“Katria, come along now, you don’t want to keep your new husband waiting.” Joyce appears behind her daughters, eying the trunk she gave me. “Oh, good. I thought it might all fit in that small trunk.” Joyce looks around the room with disdain. A small room, filled with a small amount of things, for a woman she tried to make small her entire life.
I vow then that I will never let this new husband or anyone else make me feel small. I will try with all my might to stand tall. I will never live cowering again.
“Let’s go.” I sling my lute onto my back and hoist my trunk.
We four trudge out to the wide veranda at the front of the manor. It’s there that I get my first look at the butler who negotiated for my fate. He’s tall despite having a bit of a hunch to his back, wiry, with beady black eyes and slicked-back gray hair. His clothes are fine, not overly adorned but clearly of good make. The kind of wealth that doesn’t scream at you but whispers with easy confidence. Joyce could learn a thing or two from him.
“You must be Lady Katria,” he says with a bow. He then looks to Joyce and motions to the chest at his side. “Here are the four thousand pieces, as promised.”
“As you already observed, this is Katria. And here is her dowry.” Joyce holds out a small parcel wrapped in silk. The butler unwraps it, checks its contents, and then reverently re-wraps the tome. My hands shake as I fight the urge to snatch it from his grasp.
“Excellent, all is in order. If you’ll follow me, Lady Katria.”
It strikes me as I’m halfway down the main stair between the veranda and drive that this might be the last time I walk this path. I don’t know if I will want to return to this house, or the people living in it. I look behind me, up at them, and behind farther still to catch a final glimpse of the beautiful, time-worn paintings on the ceiling of the entry.
Mother wasn’t meant to live here for very long, my father would say. Maybe, neither was I. Maybe I’m just fulfilling my destiny of leaving this place a bit too late.
I’m almost at the carriage when the clopping of hooves distracts me. Cordella leads Misty around the house from the side stables. She gives a wave.
“Miss, I figured you would not want to be leaving without this one.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. Everything is happening so fast I wonder what else I’ve overlooked. Or what else I assumed would sort itself out.
“Cordella.” Joyce’s voice is like a whip, cracking through the cool air. “Take that beast back to the stables.”
“What? Misty is mine.”
“I’m sure your husband would delight in giving you a new horse, a better horse, as a wedding present. Don’t be a selfish girl and deny him that,” Joyce scolds.
“I don’t want… I want Misty.” I look to the butler. “She’s a good horse and has been with me her whole life. It would be no trouble, would it?”
“There is room in my master’s stables.” The man nods.
Joyce shakes her head and brings a hand to her mouth. “I cannot believe it. I know I raised you better.”
I purse my lips. Years of experience has taught me that silence is best when she gets like this.
“To think, you would disrespect your new husband and take from your family unnecessarily at the same time, all over a silly horse.”
“Silly? See, none of you even care about that horse!”
“You are a lady, Katria Applegate. It is unbecoming to shout.” Joyce has gone quiet. “Cordella, please bring that horse back to the stables.”
Cordella glances between Joyce and me. But I know what she’ll do before she does it. She can’t object to Joyce’s demands. Cordella turns.
“No! You can’t do this! Please!” I rush to Cordella.
“Katria.” My name is like a whip from Joyce’s mouth. I flinch and freeze. Halted by the mere sound. “You are upset over nothing and making a fool of yourself.”
I want to scream at her. She has the remnants of my father’s business for herself. She has her four thousand pieces. They could buy a whole herd of horses. Let me have Misty, I want to shout. But I can’t. Because like Misty I have been trained, I have been silenced by an invisible bridle that my stepmother shoved between my teeth long ago.
A gentle touch on my shoulder startles me. I look up to see that the butler has closed the gap. His eyes are surprisingly gentle and sympathetic.
“I will see to it that my master gets you a new horse.”
She will never be left wanting. He had said that was the promise his master made. I could ask for anything I wanted but it would mean nothing. It would be empty kindness for the sake of fulfilling an obligation from people who care more about a book than me.
I jerk away. “I don’t want his horses.” I don’t want his pitying or compulsory kindness. I don’t want anything that could resemble closeness in this marriage.
“It’s always something with you, isn’t it?” Joyce murmurs, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Calm down and be graceful as you venture into this new stage of your life.” She makes it sound as if I have somehow chosen this. As if this was something I wanted. I glare up at her before getting into the carriage.
Laura rushes forth as the butler assumes the driver’s seat.
“Laura!” Joyce is nearing her breaking point.
“Go back to your mother,” I hiss at my sister. I shudder to think of what reprimanding she’ll face. Laura ignores me and Joyce, grabbing the door and preventing me from closing it.
“I’m going to miss you,” she blurts with tear-filled eyes. My sweet sister. Barely fourteen. The best and most unbroken of us all. “You made this place bearable.”
“No, that was all you.” I quickly embrace her. The butler doesn’t rush us. “Don’t lose your kindness, Laura, please. Hang onto it with all your might until you can get out.”
“You don’t either.” She pulls away and I refrain from telling her that mine was lost a long, long time ago. “I’ll look after Misty, I swear it. Cordella will teach me. So maybe the next time you come back, you can take her then. I’ll try and speak to Mother.”
“Don’t risk her ire on my behalf; you know better.” I gently tuck a strand of hair behind Laura’s ear. Movement over her shoulder catches my eye. “Now, go, before your mother comes to collect you.” I gently push her away and shut the door. Joyce ushers Laura up the stairs with some choice, clipped words.
The carriage lurches forward and I quickly lose sight of them. No matter what Laura says…I doubt I’ll ever be coming back.
Helen said that Lord Fenwood lived to the north of town. In my mind, that meant slightly to the north. Kind of like how our manor is just south. But it turns out Lord Fenwood lives much farther. It’s late in the day when we arrive at what is to be my new home.
A tall stone wall, easily twice my height, is the first signifier that we’ve arrived. There has been nothing but rolling hills and the ever-present forest at my right for most of the day. An hour ago we took a small branching road, more like wheel ruts between the grasses, that plodded along toward the forest. I saw the wall first, stretching out from the trees, like some crumbling remnant of a long-ago castle.