chapter 1  

SAL had almost forgotten how the world outside looks like. The last she remembers of it was a bright place with sunlight tinging everything yellow. Conversations, light and flitting they were. Now, it was uncertain if those memories were even real. The saccharine happiness tells her it was probably an image she had seen before in the books and thinking like this only makes her imagine things.

But imagining was not so bad. There would be a vast field with the greenest and softest grass she would then lay onto. A prince in a long coat would wake her up from her sleep, smiling sweetly at her. Her brother would be a tease, telling on her to anyone else. But she would not mind, because she was too happy to care.

Loud neighing of horses knocked her out of her reverie. Sal glanced at her surroundings. Fading fleur-de-lys patterns painted on the ceiling. Cold wood rubbed against her skin as she lay on the floor. Books strewn around the place built a quirky kind of forest and mattresses dangled from her bed. The maid would be really angry.

The neighing did not stop. Scarier still than the possible anger of the lady was these times of the month. There was clip-clop of horses’ hooves that was surely then followed by merry voices of men. Sal crawled to the edge of the wall to ensure a more secure hiding place.  The names who owns the voices she has memorized but the noise all sounded foreign to her. Sal clutched to her veil and wrapped it around her head and hair as she further holed in the wall.

Three knocks sounded on the door. Sal tried to sit up but ended up clutching her knees against her chest.

Keys jingled as the door opened to reveal the maid. The maid then went straight to the capiz windows to lock them tighter.

“ You’re not a rug, Signorina. Sit up.” The maid whispered.

Sal tried to mutter a word but ended up dragging herself up onto the bed as the maid sat by the table. Neither of them uttered a word as faint conversation drifted by, all of it in a language the maid would not understand. An hour on with both of them stuck in silence until the horses whinnied again and carriage wheels clattered did the maid stand up.

“ Stay here, I’m going to check.”

As the sounds dwindled, so did the pit in her stomach. She would never be used to this. Even as she understood the conversations of the visitors, their ideas all went over her head. After all, it was a sinful thought to try and be curious. What if they do notice her?

The maid came back. She navigated across the dirty room and adjusted the veil on Sal’s head like she always does every few minutes. Sal could barely see her room through the thin fabric when she looks straight up ahead but at least her face was not visible. It had then been easier to look down.

Rustling sounded across the room. Ah, the maid must be cleaning and putting her things back in place. “ Sometimes, I wonder what kind of wife you’ll be.” The maid muttered, ever the blank tone in her voice.

But Sal sat upright, her toes wriggling as she put her soles together. Being married looked so good in the stories she’s read for all the princesses lived their happily ever afters. The wedding could not come any sooner.

The maid motioned to her so she checked the piece she started embroidering days ago. The threads are all over the place and it was not as smooth as a picture as what the maid had shown her before, but it was good progress.

The maid shook her head at the sight of her work.

“I’m sorry,” Sal said.

Sal sighed. The job was enjoyable at least, but it was not good enough. The maid would not even teach her cooking, too afraid she must be that Sal will burn a house.

“It was almost impossible to think the Signor would arrange for a marriage “ The maid muttered. It was clearly to herself, but Sal was almost trained to hear the conversations people did not want to hear. She can’t help it. She has ears. But sometimes, it is perplexing for a marriage seems like an unprecedented blessing.

“A good wife should be responsible for her husband.”Sal repeated one of the mottoes the maid has been saying. But inwardly, it was not something to mind.

The maid only stared at her. At the very least, Sal knew that the statement would satisfy the maid. Despite all the maid’s doubts on her abilities, there was no need to doubt. Marriage is when she’ll have to live and stay with another man in another house. It seemed like it will be more fun than here.

Sal shot a look at the capiz windows. Will her new house have windows gray like that? Or will they have no windows at all and set a bed and a table on the roof?

“Do you think I have to live outside after the wedding?” Sal clasped her hands together, waiting for a reaction at least. The maid leveled a quick glare. She should feel nervous then.

It was one of those dangerous questions so Sal clamped her mouth shut and gripped her veil close to her head.

“Only the Signor knows.” The maid replied.

Sal’s hands crumpled. She should have known better than to let the Signor’s name be incurred in conversation. Is he even in the Casa right now? The man comes as quietly as he goes like a ghost. The presence of visitors earlier tells her that he was in the Casa. It is not right to feel too at ease.  

SamCarreon Creator