A Winter's Tale

Chapter 2:

Chapter 2:
      I walked slowly through the castle, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. That wasn't very difficult considering no one stopped to acknowledge me. I was at the very bottom of the social web that was King James' court. Although, I did have a sister. Not many knew we were related by blood. Edith Ella Sinclair was by far, the most beautiful woman in the King's court. Edith was born before me, and a woman that transpired against our mother took the beautiful girl in, changing her surname.

    Edith never desired to tell the truth, for she thought herself better than me as well. Being the main source of my pain, I tried to avoid my sister at all costs. Where as we both were infamous, it was at two completely different reasons. Edith was known for her beauty, and her acceptance among everyone else. I was known for the exact opposite. Honestly, no one could look at the two of us, and see any resemblance. Edith's hair was honey gold, staying obediently high atop her head in shiny ringlets. Her eyes the crystal blue of the sky. My hair was dark, darker than the night sky. My eyes clearer than the stormy waters at the docks. I didn't take the likeness of my mother, or much of my father. I was a mystery to the eyes of all the handsome, rich, ivory residents in the court. One that was not easily solved, or welcomed.

      I continued to walk, but did slow down to admire that portrait or King James' first wife, Emma Vaughn. Emma had always been my personal role model. She treated me as a daughter as much as her husband did. Emma was beautiful. Even more so than Edith. It was horrible that she died giving birth to their only son, Geoff. Now, Geoff was an outcast as much as myself against his other half brothers from King James' second wife, Marilyn. Marilyn was a nice lady, but she spent more time gossiping than with her husband. She abused her powers as Queen.

     "Emery," a soft voice called out to me. I turned to see perhaps my only friend at court, Lucy Laird. Lucy's parents once forbid her to keep in contact with me, but she was a rebellious spirit. When they realized that, they didn't forbid her to do anything. "Hello Lucy," I greeted her. She slowed to a stop beside me "were you just coming from King James' study?" I nodded "yes." "Why did he call on you," from anyone else, the question would've been laced with disgust, but with Lucy it was laced with curiosity. I glanced away quickly "I am betrothed." Her gasp was probably heard throughout the entire court. Everyone assumed that I would never be wed. I would spend my days at the court as a spinster. I would watch Edith marry the richest, most handsome man, and have equally lovely children. Even Lucy, as innocently pretty as she was, would marry before me. But, no. I would be married before all of them.

    "To who," Lucy all but shrieked. I grabbed her arm, and pulled her into a crevice along the corridor. "Keep your voice down," I said lowly "I'll tell you, but I can't say you'll be pleased. He is not a man that you would wish for me, or anyone. It's the Count of Dubois." Lucy's face filled with giddy excitement "Emery! Have you ever seen the Count of Dubois?! He attended a ball a few years back, and Edith threw herself at him, no matter his reputation. You're going to be married to him!" I frowned. Why could no one see the predicament I was in? My King obviously thought the marriage between us would result in something beautiful. I failed to see it that way. Instead, I felt as if I was going to marry evil in a form. Lucy shook her head, the light curls bouncing from the movement. "You are being ridiculous, Emery," Lucy sighed "Edith is going to be green with envy when she finds out. She's pining for him, you know? But, no her own sister is his betrothed." I grabbed her wrist tightly "be quiet! No one is to know that Edith is my sister."

      If she was going to pretend that we weren't related, so was I. I would not look like a fool, and admit it, only to have her deny it. No one would believe me over their lovely girl. Lucy removed her wrist from my grip forcefully "why not? I think you should embarrass her even more than you already will. She's telling everyone that she is the woman King James picked for the infamous Count. That she'll be the one to melt his heart of steel." "I do not believe anyone can do that," I muttered, but my outspoken friend heard. Pulling me away from the shadows she gave me a look as we continued walking. Some people gave Lucy a nod, but only sniffed at me. They would not acknowledge me, but that would make certain that I knew they thought me beneath them. I was used to it by now though.

     "Oh," Lucy suddenly did a little twirl, hindered by the heavy dress she was wearing "you're finally leaving court. If mother, and father have anything to do with it, I will be staying here for the rest of my life." Lucy Laird was not as rich as some families in the court, but she was wealthy. Her dress said so. An extravagant deep purple, it went up to twist around her neck in a high collar. At the waist it cinched in tightly. So tight I could almost see her corset laces. I often wondered how Lucy managed to breathe. It spread out in a big span that dwarfed her legs, but made her seem taller, and thinner. It was an afternoon dress, but it was adorned by laces, jewels, and fine seams. Much unlike my own. Plain, and dark blue, it only cinched in lightly at my waist. Giving me a faint illusion of a figure. It did not spread out, but went straight down. I only adorned it with the majestic red ruby that my mother used to wear. "Lucy," I chuckled "you will find your way out of here as well. Just manage to capture the attention of a Count. Not a hard feat for you."

       Lucy almost let out a most ungraceful snort, but caught herself just in time. The abrupt stop didn't bode well for her vocal chords, and she ended up letting out a strange croak. Almost equivalent to a choking sound. She giggled helplessly, and glanced around. I held in my laughs as best I could, but when her eyes met mine, the sound leapt forward. Our laughs bounced around the walls until I heard a soft throat clearing. There was no mistaking that sound. I turned, and there she was smirking. Edith.