Uncommon

The Letter

Lilia was about to collapse. The only thing keeping her awake was sheer willpower and fear of more punishment. She barely got any sleep and was more than glad the month was about over. She could finally go back to sleeping in her own bed- well, her side of it anyway. Currently Lilia was at breakfast, barely able to eat as she would much rather trade her bowl of oatmeal for sleep.

"Hey wake up! Somebody's is coming!" Rachel whispered. Rachel was one of Lilia's few friends. Having come in from a particularly heavy downpour six years ago, the two have been close ever since. Rachel seemed to be liked by the faculty and used that to their advantage, demonstrated now as a game of telephone began through the entire dinner hall, each warning another that someone was coming.

With great difficulty, Lilia pushed herself up from her resting position on the table. Her eyelids felt like there were wights attached to them, pulling them down to tempt her back into sleep and fantasies of sweet dreams. Lilia had no idea where she would go when she finally could leave this place. Perhaps a writer, but a writer needs stories. Her dreams give good stories...

Rachel jabbed Lilia's side with her elbow. Lilia shot of, suddenly alert, then grumbled at Rachel for being so harsh.

"Are you sure you want Lennox making you do even more punishment?"

"No..."

The doors burst open, Headmistress Willard herself gliding into the room. A deadly smile upon her face. Lilia thought she looked better with a permanent frown.

"Girls, girls, listen carefully," she said, her voice ringing out against the walls and echoing on the high ceiling. "We have received a letter from the queen herself! She says this- and don't ask me to repeat; 'To whom it may concern- In three days time, we would like to select one of your flourishing girls as the next queen. My son, Prince Ronan Domhnall, will be attending personally to make his selection. He is very particular and is in search of someone well-educated. With that in mind, we expect you to present your most beautiful, intelligent, and well-mannered students. Sincerely, Queen Estella Domhnall'"

"The prince has to be absolutely insane," Lilia yawned. "Who would ever come here in search of a bride?"

"Maybe he's looking for someone humble?" Rachel answered in a hushed tone.

Lilia bit back another yawn. "It's a political or publicity stunt if you ask me. One night's dessert says he's a creep and goes for one of the Greenlings."

"I'll take that bet." The Greenlings were those below the age of twelve or new to the school- and there was a far bigger number of Greenlings than any of the older girls. (The older ones didn't have a name.)

"With this in mind," Headmistress Willard said, bringing all attention back to her. "The next three days of lessons are canceled. We are to prepare in the selecting process for the future queen! If I find any of you misbehaving or breaking the rules- automatic night shift for a month! I will not have any of you making a fool out of me and this facility. Have I been made clear?"

The entire hall echoed in a tired, unified voice. "Yes Headmistress Willard."

"Good. Directly after breakfast, you are all to wash up and line up by age in the courtyard before nine thirty. You shall receive further instructions when you arrive." The hall was silent, no one saying nothing and no one making a move to get up. "Hurry it up then! Don't waste any time!"

Everyone started scrambling to get up, rushing to clean themselves off and brush their hair, making sure they looked like perfect little dolls all crafted to be of the same set.

"Lilia, can you help me please?" a little girl, Mora, asked. She wasn't more than six years old and Lilia couldn't help but feel bad for the poor thing every time she interacted. Mora was such a sweet girl, it's a shame no one kept her. "I can't tie it." She held out the little yellow ribbon one of the older girls gave to her as a gift before she left.

"Of course, come here." She guided Mora away from the crowd of girls to a corner to brush her hair and tie it nicely in a bow.

"Can you tell me a story?"

"Sure, which one do you want to hear today?" Lilia was a known storyteller. She loved to read and would sometimes alter the story to fit to her liking. She'd reimagined thousands of stories millions of ways as a means of entertainment. When there was a big thunderstorm out, all the smallest Greenlings would come running to her, begging for a story to make them forget about the harsh weather.

"I want a princess story please!" Mora answered, bouncing in her seat.

"I'll tell it to you, but you have to stop squirming!"

Mora giggled. "Sorry."

Lilia thought for a moment. "A princess story, she says... hmmm"

"I want the one with the really long hair."

"Do you mean Rapunzel?"

"Yeah! Rap-puzzle!"

And so she began, Lilia's words painting a vivid picture in the little girl's mind. Mora really liked Lilia, and hoped she would stay forever.

"Lilia?" Mora interrupted the story. "Will you stay with me forever?"

She bit back her answer. As much as Lilia dreamed of getting away from this horrid place.

"I'll tell you what Mora, when I leave, I'll take you with me."

Mora gasped. "Really!?"

"Really."

It was hot out in the courtyard, and the uniforms did nothing to help. Not to mention, no one knew that the headmistress herself would be conducting today's lessons.

"Line up! Did I not tell you to do so before?!" she barked. The girls scrambled to line up by age. Thankfully, the older girls knew where everyone should be and in what order. The littlest ones were still struggling with putting their months of the year in order, but they quickly sorted themselves out.

"That took too much time. Seven minutes wasted on you!" 

'There's over two hundred of us, what else were we supposed to do?!' Lilia wanted to say, but bit  her tongue to keep from lashing out. 'That'll just get you into more trouble.'

Headmistress Willard went down the lines of girls. "Chin up... shoulders back... feet together. Don't frown dear, smile, be pleas- oh- maybe not." She corrected each and every little thing that wasn't up to her standards.

"Miss Abigail, what are these?" she flicked a ten-year-olds pig-tails.

"They're braids madam." Abigail answered, very much afraid of the headmistress.

"Do you see anyone else wearing braids? Hm?" she tested. "Go on, look around. Tell me child, is anyone else wearing braids?"

"N-no madam."

"Then take them out before I cut them off!" She roared. Abigail hurriedly undid them, her eyes glossing over with tears as the headmistress moved on.

"She's such a crybaby," one of the older girls, Jessica, murmured. Her friends tittering around her.

"Don't be so cruel," Lilia hissed. "You were her age once too."

"Yeah but I never cried like that," she snickered.

'Just you wait until I shove you down a flight of stairs, see who's crying then.' Lilia internally threatened.

This was going to be a long three days.