Rosalind - Amby Awards 2023 TOP PICK

38-Ivory Fine

The silver gown hung on a hook on the exterior of the wardrobe. Rosalind stood back admiring the dress as though one would a painting or some exquisite work of art. The garment was ethereal. It made Rosalind think of fairy tales. Layers of semi-transparent material shimmered over a dove gray underskirt. The gown was held up by thick straps. Elaborate metallic shoulder pads in the shape of birds' wings secured the straps in place. Plunging from the clasps was a long cape in the same material and shade as the top layer of the gown.

"Lord Caspian will be expecting your presence for dinner in two hours." Rosalind recalled Agnes' words.

Moving to the gown, she studied the ribbons which would hold the gown snugly on the wearer's body. The ribbons zig-zagged down the front. It would be a task but it would not require two people to put it on.

She wanted to walk outside until dinner time. Her room, at that moment, felt suffocating. Perhaps a long walk in the crisp air would make her feel like she wasn't losing her mind.

Rosalind slipped her own dress off her shoulders. When it dropped to the ground she stepped out of it. Heading to the wardrobe, Rosalind plucked the silver gown carefully off the hook and wriggled into it, like a butterfly returning to her cocoon. The front lay obscenely open as she worked the ribbons through their loops. From the bottom up she tugged and tied to secure the dress onto her body. While the top part clung onto her like a second skin, the skirt flowed elegantly around her. Rosalind adjusted the cape over her shoulders then turned towards her mirror. Her gaze darted around the frame, avoiding the glass. She knew she would have to look at herself eventually. With her heart frantically beating, she shifted her gaze to the looking glass and flinched when her reflection looked away. "Look at me," she uttered. "See me. I am the woman I always was." Her eyes flickered from side to side as she voided her own gaze. "I am a woman. Human. Pitifully mortal." Her gaze drifted slowly, cautiously; Rosalind finally looked at herself. Eye to eye she and her reflection stood. "I am no aberration roaming darkened halls. I am no monster. I am simply going mad and I simply want to go home."

The woman in the mirror shed a tear and Rosalind wiped it away. Drawing a brush through her long hair, her heart was heavy. "I need to get out of here." The brush landed with a thud when she dropped it on the table.

Rosalind grabbed her stole, draped it over her shoulders and exited the sanctuary of her chamber.

The sound of silence welcomed her down the hall. Candlelight flickered as she hurried down the steps. Pulling the door open, a gust of wind reached for Rosalind and filled her hair with bits of snow. But somehow she did not feel the cold.

Her boots crunched with every step she took which led her further from the house down an unknown path. The cobblestone underfoot was covered by a thin sheet of white. It looked like a path often used but she could not see where it lead to. Before her, trees leaned close together, creating an archway that she walked through. Soon, she came upon a clearing and in the distance, Rosalind saw a stable.

She had not heard the sound of horses during her stay and upon seeing the building Rosalind wondered how many steeds the lord kept. Do the animals fear him or are they used to his odd appearance? Has he perhaps blinded them to keep them from tearing away? She recalled the Hershel mares and how Julian had to put one down when the horse nearly went mad from shock. Lord Caspian is worse than any storm, she thought. Upon thinking of him, she trembled.

What if he is at his stables getting his horses ready for a hunt? I know I should not roam yet I dare. Am I this foolish or have I stopped to care what the repercussions may be?

Rosalind reached towards a brittle bush and snapped off a twig. Pale green leaves clung onto the browning stick, trying to survive even though their main life-line was already gone. Absentmindedly, Rosalind began plucking the leaves off the twig, scattering them on the ground. When the last leaf was gone, Rosalind dropped the stick into the snow.

The sound of the horses was clear now, yet there was no tell-tale scent of animals and hay. The stables were immaculate, as though they were just built. Windows and doors were shut to protect the creatures from the weather outside.

She could not see anyone else around. When Rosalind touched her ear to the stable's door, all she heard was a soft neighing followed by hooves upon dried hay. Taking hold of the knob, she opened the door and entered the stable.

A beam of light entered with her and illuminated the path down the middle of the building. A menacing darkness blanketed either side, shadowing the stalls. Scatters of straw created crinkling sounds with every step. Behind her, the door swayed half-way shut. Rosalind made her way in deeper, still having not seen any form of life. I can hear them, but I cannot see them. The first two stalls were empty, baring nothing but bales of hay that Rosalind could see only when the wind blew the door open just a fragment. The hay smelt sweet and dry and it reminded her of the stables in her own home.

Bringing her hands to the stole, Rosalind pulled it tighter. The menacing wind toyed with the stable door, sending small flashes of light in before turning the interior into a place of darkness. But a storm was brewing. The wind, gentle moments ago, roared and pushed the doors open with a mighty shove. Light bolted into the belly of the building, illuminating the last two stalls where Lord Caspian's steeds stood.

When Rosalind caught sight of their abominable faces and bodies, she screamed to high heavens. The horses glared at her, their eyes were darker than anything she'd ever seen. When they shook their heads, she saw their bones – ivory fine – peaking out of the places flesh no longer covered. The horses were made of rot and nightmares, black and brutal. Flesh hung from the creature's flanks. Their tails reminded Rosalind of whips.

One of the horses neighed loudly. It rose on its hind legs and thrashed its front at her as though it were ready to attack. Dark eyes from moments before turned red like embers in a fire. 

Never in her life had she ever seen such monstrosities. Fear dominated a pity she should have had. She clasped her hands over her mouth to stifle another scream. Rosalind stumbled backward. Her heart desperately pleading to flee.

The furious horse landed with a thump causing the ground under her to shake. It lowered its head and bashed into the bars of the stall.

Rosalind dropped her hands and screamed again. Turning as fast as she could, she ran out of the stable and right into the lord.