On the Day of the Hunt (V)
17th March, Story #77/366
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Being Chosen by the Queen, and all that followed was exhausting.
Maids help me out of the stupid dress and underthings, then I sink into the pillows. I sob for my mother, remembering her sat rod-like in the gallery with despair on her face... Sleep took me before the tears even dried.
I wake to sunlight streaming onto me and certainty heavy in my gut that the boy who'd sat feet from me the night before was dead.
I was sure it'd be me. Surer than I'd ever been in my life. More than sure: I knew. And yet... I'd been wrong. Here's my chest, see: still going up and down with each breath.
Maids re-appear, as if by magic, or on a signal. Bobbing up and down as if I were a Lady and telling me breakfast was being served to the Candidates. Bringing me warm water for washing, clean clothes. I accept their help, grateful, and wonder at how quickly I'd come to do that.
Breakfast is hot fresh bread, fruit, eggs, cheeses, and (I could hardly believe it) more meat. Hot tea. Golden honey. I want to swipe a jar of it, but I've no pockets.
I've a better appetite this morning. Maybe I'm coming to accept this luxury, this excess of food, like the steaming claw-footed bath, the maids, the thick card with my name on it that probably cost more than most people earned in a week. Is it so bad, to accept ease and comfort in these last days, hours, before I die a gruesome death?
I exchange glances with the other Candidates amidst the clatter of plates and silverware, loud in my ears. Wanting and yet not wanting to make conversation. Unsure if it'd make it better, or worse. Do they feel the same?
Afterwards, guards materialise at my elbows just like the day before. They escort me to the royal gardens. My heart splits; my mother waits there. We hug like it's the last time we ever will. It might be.
"Listen," she says, "I must tell you..." Her gaze is intense, her fingers bite into my shoulders. She sags, smiles, tells me she loves me.
She's lying.
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Word count (excluding notes): 366
Submitted on 17th March at 23:05
*Quick Author's Note*
First, and most importantly: thank you for reading!
Leave me a link to your own latest story, if I haven't already seen it!
If you enjoyed this story, the best compliment you can give me is to share it, or read another.
A Year of Stories: I'm writing a story every day this year. This one makes a 77 day streak. That's eleven weeks! I'm also putting them in my Index post.
Thank you
Thank you again! I do my best to reciprocate all reads.
About the Creator
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Comments (9)
Is she? Great storytelling here, L.C. You have us biting our nails for fear of what is to become of her.
Once again the scene setting and character voice are top notch! Curious about the mother daughter dynamic! Obviously it’s a contentious one, but feels like there’s a story there
This is awesome. Love the descriptions and the constant tension!
One of the greatest from you! Thank you for sharing.
a perfect story line.
Cliff hanger! Ugh! Gee hurry up and write the next. I’m hoping this revelation is a deflection…. And her mum is lying to protect her, make her angry? Great stuff L.C.
Her mum doesn't love her? That's unexpected! I love how you evoke the wretched excess. reminiscent of the stuffing of Hansel and Gretel. Really fine storytelling ... eager for more!
This is a great series. Bring it on..
Oof - that is a hard feeling, to hear the words everyone wants, but to know in your gut that they are not true. ESPECIALLY in this situation! Can't wait for the next one, LC!