Forced to move out of my old room, I lived in the drafty tower room above Ava's, a place usually reserved for the scullery maid. Since our budget was becoming increasingly tight, the room had remained unoccupied for some time, and it was dust-ridden and smelt of mildew. The rain had managed to leak through the often-patched roof, but I couldn't find it within myself to complain. Living in a drafty tower seemed better at the moment than being in closer vicinity to my sisters.
Excitement for the upcoming ball was growing, and giggly squeals of delight could be heard from every corner of the house as the girls looked over their wardrobes. Whenever I drew near, however, I was regarded with looks of intense superiority and effectively ignored. Staying away from them became increasingly more pleasant.
The staff watched everything in bewilderment. They didn't know whether I should be treated as one of them or one of the family. In truth, I myself was unsure. From the way my sisters treated me, it was clear that there was no one they loathed more, but they didn't treat me badly. Something or someone seemed to be stopping them, and meals were filled with tight silence and glum awkwardness.
Since his departure, father had only sent one note to say that he had arrived in the city, and I dearly missed being able to talk to him after a long day in my sister's company. Unlike other times when he was away, he didn't send my notes of encouragement. He was silent, and I was sad.
My birthday came with no word form him and nothing worth celebrating. It was the first time I had known him to break a promise. Once he gave his word, it was a given that he would go through with it no matter the cost.
I was sixteen, normally considered quite the achievement in Falean culture, but there were none of the usual congratulations. We didn't even have a special dinner. The servants gave their best efforts to cheering me, but I couldn't help being gloomy. Father had promised to return by my birthday, and only something very important could deter him from fulfilling a promise once it was given.
Once Greta—the cook and my old nursemaid—realized I couldn't be cheered, she reluctantly returned to her work and sent David for the mail. I wanted to help with the chores, but my heart wasn't in the work like usual. I stared helplessly at Ava as she scrubbed the kitchen floor on her hands and knees.
When I could bare the kitchen no longer, I rose and went into the yard to try to give my mind something else to focus on. The sky outdoors was vast and open, bluer than it had been in a long time. I hadn't even gotten my wish for snow; it seemed all the odds had been piled against me. I wanted desperately to go to the menagerie, but it had been forbidden, and I didn't feel like facing Mother's wrath when she learnt of my disobedience.
"Miss Bree!" David's voice pierced the silence as he suddenly tore through the gate, waving the mail in one hand and a separate envelope in the other. "It's a letter, miss, from your father." His hand was shaking when he finally reached me and put the letter in my hands, but his shakes weren't near as violent as the ecstatic trembles that were passing through by body at the sight of the note. Greta and Ava had come to the door when they heard the commotion, and now, they all grouped around me, their faces eager as they shared in my joy.
"Well, go on then, open it!" Ava prompted, her face red from the heat of the kitchen. I smiled, almost ready to cry with renewed happiness.
"I can't." I said, my heart sinking at the words. "Mother." I shrugged, disappointed as the word brought me back to earth.
"No, miss," David protested. "It's addressed to all of you, not just her." His words tempted me beyond my desire for self-preservation.
Clutching the envelope with indecision, I suddenly couldn't bear it any longer. I had to know what he had to say. Trembling with excitement and curiosity, I tore the seal and beheld Father's scrawl with a beaming smile. I had to wait for several minutes before my sight fully cleared, and then I read the words aloud eagerly:
YOU ARE READING
I Am Bree - Book 1
Fantasy****Copyrighted**** 'Tell me you don't feel it.' He whispered against my lips, and the trembling that had ceased at the feel of his lips against mine began again with renewed vigor. 'Tell me it's not what you want, and I'll go. You'll never have to...
