elmnopen

[elmnopen]

The Queen’s Flowers

The market place was busy, as it always was this time of day, early birds out getting their worms. That worked perfectly for me. With all the bustling, a vendor was far less likely to notice the apple falling out of his cart when I bumped into it. 

Busy is one thing, but chaotic is a whole other mess, and one I don’t like dealing with. Chaos, unfortunately, seemed to be on the menu for this morning. 

It all seemed to happen at once. The apple hit my palm the same second someone slammed into me, and a split second later shouting erupted from the crowd. Glancing down, I was startled by who I saw pulling away from where she’d crashed into my chest.

Away the princess ran, away from the guards struggling to push through the crowd. I turned tail and ran after her, grabbing her arm and pulling her into an alley. She cried out and hit my arm, desperately trying to get me off. I let go, resulting in her falling back into the dumpster. 

I just barely smothered my grin.

“Hey, Princess, relax. Why are you running from your guard?” I asked, crouching to where she lay on the ground. 

She looked up at me with big doe eyes, wide with fear. Either way, her voice stayed firm

and sharp as she told me off. “That’s hardly your business! Leave me alone!”

“Alright, as you wish,” I shrugged, standing. The shouting was getting nearer, and rapidly so. “You have fun being towed back to the castle. Ta ta.”

“No, wait,” there was defeat leaking into her voice now, defeat and desperation. The poor girl. “Will you help me?”

I grinned, and she recoiled ever so slightly. Grabbing her wrist I pulled her behind the dumpster and slid a panel in the wall up, gently urging her into the dark space. In she crawled, no hesitation, trusting and naive. Oh, so stupid. I guess princesses aren’t taught not to trust strangers like the rest of us peasants. Then again, what other choice did she have?

I wasn’t planning on hurting her, of course. I just couldn’t shake the thought of how dead she’d be if anyone else had picked her up. It must be my mother shining through. 

The space I’d built wasn’t built to fit two people, no matter how small we both were. I may be flexible, but this was ridiculous. I wasn’t certain whose hair was in my mouth, nor was I sure which heartbeat was hers and which was mine, but it was almost cute, the way she curled up delicately against me. 

I slapped a hand over her mouth as the thunderous footsteps of guards trampled the alley where we’d just stood. She tried to pry it off, but I didn’t budge, not trusting the daft little thing not to talk or gasp and give us away. 

Once the footsteps and shouting faded away I twisted, pressing my cheek to the ground, knee pressing uncomfortably into the back of my skull, peering out through the crack I made as I lifted the panel. Once I deemed it safe out there, I sat up and shifted us around.

After much jostling and tiny squeaks of protest from the princess as her dress caught under me, I was finally able to press my ear to the wall opposite where we’d come in. I could hear singing softly, and chatter. The sounds of fifteen orphaned girls preparing themselves for their day after a long night's hard work. I sighed heavily, we’d have to wait for them to leave. 

I pulled away to slump against the wall my back was already pressed into, a rather pathetic attempt at giving the princess in my lap some space. There was a moment of silence before she whispered, quiet as a mouse. 

“What’s happening?”

“We have to wait for the girls living in the building to leave. Do you have any idea what the time is?” I whispered back.

“No.”

Silence, then, “Who are you?”

“Princess, we’re still hiding.”

She finally shut up, and I pressed my ear to the door again. Though I knew, logically, only five minutes passed, it felt like half an hour before the lady in charge of the girls collected them to be sent on their way. 

Slowly, I slid the panel up and rolled out, quietly looking around before moving so the princess could slip out after me. She dragged herself out in the most ungraceful way, now covered in mud. 

Again, I suppressed a grin. 

The room we entered contained fifteen beds, each with brightly coloured covers and drapings thrown wide open to reveal messy beds and dresses with scandalously low necklines and slits up the skirts for one to poke her leg out of. 

We got halfway across the room when the princess wrenched her wrist out of my grip and hissed in a tone of voice that suggested she was prepared to fight. “Where have you taken me?”

“Relax, Your Highness. I have no intentions to sell you. This is how we get to my home, on the roof.” I said in a calm whisper, backing up to the wall.

“That’s a rather pathetic lie.” She replied, glaring at me hard. The black smeared artistically around her eyes helped the dark look. 

I just pulled at the door that revealed a large dumbwaiter. Doubt and indecision clouded her face, softening the glare. 

“Come now, we have to hurry.” 

It didn’t take all that long to get her up, and I followed shortly after. When I arrived she was standing awkwardly in the corner, taking my home in. All three walls of it, that is. 

Long before I moved in, the roof and one wall had burnt down, and the space had been abandoned. The other rooms on this floor weren’t safe to move around in, but with some tarps and rope from my old job, it was easy to make this room livable. A bundle of blankets and rags vaguely resembling a bird's nest served as my bed in the center of the room, where the tarp roof was least likely to leak on me. A large square box pushed into one corner of the room, about as tall a my knee, held all my possessions. Excluding the twin masks, which I took off the wall as I strayed further into the room. 

Both masks were simple things; white, with black eyes and mouths painted carefully on. One a smile and one a frown. I held the frown in my left hand and the smile in my right, enjoying the familiar weight that helped soothe the butterflies in my stomach. 

“Welcome, Princess, to my home.” I greeted enthusiastically, spinning on my toes as I walked to my bed and dropped dramatically into it. “What has you running through the market like a hare with a hunter on it's bushy little tail?”

“That remains none of your business.” She replied shortly, but without the harsh edge to her voice.

I raised my left hand, the mask hiding my face. “Remember who grants you sanctuary. Remember your manners.”

Though I couldn’t see her, I knew she shuddered and turned away. Had this been a real performance I would have taken the opportunity to creep closer while she wasn’t looking. 

“It appears I’m at a disadvantage. You know who I am, and yet I know nothing of you.” She said politely. 

I stood and spun, switching masks. “They call me Amaryllis. Forgive my ignorance, but I don’t seem to know your name, Your Highness, could you give it to me?” I asked with a dramatic bow, my suddenly empty left hand extended. 

“Princess Lucy,” she lied. “That’s certainly an unusual name.”

“That’s what happens when your mum’s a witch,” I shrugged, standing perfectly upright, with my back straight and my arm tucked behind me.

“P… pardon me?” She stuttered, clearly taken aback.  

“My mum's a witch,” I repeated, rolling onto my toes. “Don't worry though, she died in childbirth and I nary a clue how to do any of her magic.” Lowering the mask to look out one eye, I could see her looking me up and down doubtfully. I dropped back down to stand on the soles of my feet.

After a short silence she finally responded. The simple “Ah. I see.” in a voice that strained to cover her distress was the only thing she could come up with. It amused me to no end.

I decided to get a good look at her finally. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back, thick curly locks reaching past her bottom in a frizzy, ruffled mess. Her long, slender fingers, the nails painted a lovely shade of dark blue, were attempting to comb out a small section she had pulled over her shoulder. Her face was round and soft, her lips shiny with gloss and her eyes dark around the edges with a black pencil I knew the rich girls used. 

I've never been one to envy, but I simply adored the look the pencil gave them. Not that her big doe eyes needed to be more accentuated. It was still lovely.

Her dress made me grin, one I didn't bother to smother as I had the mask covering that part of my face. It was a plain brown thing, with a skirt that I'm sure was far smaller and lighter than she was used to, judging by her walk. But her corset and soft materials made it an awful disguise. No one this far out into the city would wear such things. 

I decided I wouldn't think much of her body. With her fancy corsets she could be any shape she wanted. Her arms, cutting jawline and gently rounded face told me she wasn't as slim as most princess were. She wasn't fat, but she'd certainly never missed a meal.

She noticed me looking and crossed her arms over her bosom. I slid the mask up to cover my entire face, still smiling softly to myself. 

“Next time, Princess, when playing hide and seek with your guard, perhaps choose a more… appropriate camouflage.” 

“Whatever do you mean?” She asked, reaching down to let her fingers brush against her skirt. I bit my tongue to stop from chuckling. 

“No one out here wears corsets,” I chided. Tired of standing for her, I flopped back onto my bed, legs spilling out the side. I swung my feet cheerfully. “Too expensive. And we don't all wear brown. Colour is an important part of everyone's life. Also, wear a hooded cloak. No one out here could possibly dream of maintaining hair so long.” 

“Thank you, I'll keep that in mind.” She replied after a moment of consideration. She always paused to consider my words. I liked it, liked listening to the silence of her thinking. Liked her listening to me, chewing my words around her mouth before spitting out her own for me. Here, in my room, above the city with only three walls, I sat on a throne and she at my mercy, waiting and afraid that I would give the word. 

‘Off with her head!’ I almost giggled. “So, Princess. Where were you running too?” 

“Still none of your business.

I sighed, rolling my eyes as a switched masks to display a frown. This was tediously annoying, and I made sure my feelings were clear when I spoke. “I can't help you if you don't let me, and I am not keeping you here forever, Princess.” 

Again, the consideration. I knew my impatient tone tasted bitter on her tongue. “I was leaving the castle.”

“Mhmm. I gathered that. How long did you plan on staying away?” I asked, pretending to look at my nails, though I wore leather gloves that covered all but two of them and a mask with no holes to peer out of.

“I… I don't know.” She said, voice slowly getting quieter as her arrogant confidence left her.

“And where were you planning on going?” I asked, dropping my hand and turning my masked gaze to her.

“I don't know.” She whispered. She fidgeted with her skirt, but didn't look away, even when I dropped the mask and gave her a look that silently asked if she was stupid. She squirmed under my gaze. “Oh stop with that look, you bloody fool!” 

She recoiled as sharply as she had snapped when my face split into a huge grin and I jumped up suddenly, masks tumbling onto my bed. I rushed over to my box and rummaged through it, pulling out an old green and pink court jesters hat, little silver bells hanging from each of the two tips. I slipped it on, the spiked fabric laying across my chest as the bells around my head jingled deafeningly in my ears. I stood and presented myself with a grand flourish, hands in the air and feet apart, the whole thing a non-verbal ‘ta-daa!’ She looked so shocked. I tumbled forward, head over heels, until I popped up right in front of her, on my feet once again. I towered over her, a fools grin all but painted on my face. 

She wasn't sure whether to be afraid, uncertain if she had upset the witch's child, or amused by the fools antics. I wasn't sure either.

From here I could see the colour of her eyes, a delightfully soft brown with tiny flecks of black around the irises, speckled with honey where the light leaking in hit them. The black pencil was smudged and messy. 

“You run from your castle, not a clue where to go, and you call me the fool?” I asked softly, still with a grin. She realized just how afraid she really should be.  “I may be fool, Your Highness, but you are the idiot.” 

“Amaryllis,” she said in a tiny, frightened voice, placing a hand on my chest, her longest finger falling into the crook of my collar bone. She took a took half a step back, her heel hitting the wall. 

I took two steps away, not a fan of her gentle, useless touch, or of the way her voice, soft and soothing, cooled the fire in my chest and drowned out the joy clawing its way up my throat at the sight of the pretty little princess's eyes pulled wide and her jaw locked shut in fear. 

She deserved that fear, she deserved the snakes twisted and wrestling in her stomach while she watched someone chew and maul over whether her performance was satisfactory enough to give her a meal, let her stay under their roof.

I pulled the hat off and tossed it back into the box. One of the bells hung outside, jingling softly before coming to rest. I sat back down in my bed, crossing my legs and ignoring the masks clacking against each other as I bumped them. 

“Tell me you at least know why you left.” 

“The ball is tonight.” She says simply. We both knew it wasn't an explanation. I waited for more and raised an eyebrow when it didn't come. she bit her lip and refused to look away still.

“And?”

“And… that means I have to find a husband.” She murmured. I still didn't understand. She sighed heavily. “I don't want to.”

“I assumed that much. What I don't understand is why? And why you'd go through this much trouble to avoid the inevitable.”

“I don't want to marry some random suitor that decided I was pretty enough to bare him kids.” She spat. “Princes are all spoiled brats and I'm supposed to go out there and put myself on display in hopes one of them will think I'm worthy of them.”

“That sounds awful.” I said, lifting the mask with the frown to my face. “Unfortunately, I don't have much experience with princes. But I do know that all you'll ever really have to do is give him a son and then enjoy your life in a castle. Sorry, but I really can't muster the sympathy.”

She made a sputtering sound. I realized that I had offended her, and I couldn't care less. What I did care about was my empty stomach.  

“Are you hungry, Princess? Or did you nick breakfast before you fled.” I asked, standing and pulling the hanging tarp aside so I could peer outside and determine the time. 

Empyrean, the first and largest sun in our solar system, was nearing its peak, with Plantin, our third moon, slowly chasing. Sol, the smaller of the two suns, was rising, moving rapidly through the sky after Empyrean. By now I should have had breakfast and been relaxing with my feet in the lake, waiting for the school bells to ring and the kids to rush out for their outside break. 

I turned back to the princess, mouth open to inform her I'd be slipping out to grab us something to eat, but was silenced when I saw a small pile of food sitting on a piece of pink cloth at the Princesses feet.

She smiled softly. “I nicked breakfast before I left. Would you like some?”

I could already feel my mouth watering, and I didn’t bothering fighting my grin. “It seems there is a brain inside that pretty little skull of yours.”

There were apples, pears and little buns that I had no doubt were fresh baked and soft, nothing like the hard loaves I occasionally bought. I leapt over my bed and sat on my knees beside the fabric. She did the same, but I hardly noticed when I spotted the muffin. The last time I'd had a muffin I was fourteen, which must've been over five years ago This one was golden brown, with little black spots littered over the top. Chocolate, the gift of the fairies. Food bliss. 

I quickly snatched that while she picked up a small orange and began peeling it. I carefully picked a chip out of the top. It was half melted and stuck to my nail. I happily sucked it off and paddled my feet while it melted in my mouth. 

I was halfway done the pastry when it occurred to me that I had no clue where she had hidden the bundle. She wasn't carrying a bag, and I hadn't seen the pink fabric before. Through a mouthful of food, I asked where she'd hidden it. 

The corners of her mouth perked up. Perhaps she was amused by my lack of manners, or maybe she was just proud of how well she’d hidden it. “I’ve got a belt on under one of my skirts’ layers, I hid it there.”

“That explains why some of the loaves are crushed” I teased, picking up a crumb and flicking it at her. She rolled her eyes and ate more of her orange.

“Where did you get your fool’s cap?”  she asked, making polite conversation.

“I used to be a court jester.” 

“We haven’t had a jester in years, long before I was born.”

“Then you should be able to come to the logical conclusion that I wasn’t a jester in this kingdom.” I said simply, popping another chocolate chip in my mouth. 

“Where were you a jester?”

“Another kingdom.” I shrugged. I wasn’t sure what the kingdom was called, but I did know it was somewhere down south. It was always cold there. 

“How did you end up over here?”

“I joined a traveling circus. They came by about… two years ago? I remember you watching. That was my last show.”

“What happened?”

“Ring master died and the guy who took over was a bastard, so I left.” I stood and stretched, bending backwards until my head was between my legs and I could peer at her awe struck gaze. It was the mildly disturbed look the crowds always gave me, and it looked lovely on her, just as it had in the circus tent years ago.

I smiled and let my upper torso lay on the ground, my head propped up by hands. On either side of my arms, my feet paddled, making a cute little tapping sound. A small smile graced her lips. 

“Are you entirely certain you don’t know witchcraft?”

I laughed, bringing my feet up and over my head so I laid on my stomach the same way anyone might. “No witchcraft. Just flexibility. I’ve been doing this for as long as I can remember, it’s what earned me my place as the jester.”

She smiled brighter. 

***

We stayed and talked about petty things, like which maids were flirting with the knights at the castle and which men at the market where likely to hire a whore for a night. I showed her some of my circus tricks, and she sang for me. Her voice was lovely, soft and flowing. She sang me a lullaby, and I felt like a babe, being cradled softly. It was very relaxing, and her eyes lit up when I applauded her performance. 

Her laughter was the best part of the day. What started off as polite chuckles and dainty giggles muffled by her hand slowly turned into a deep belly laugh and her head tossed back. It was like watching a royal shell fall away to reveal a person beyond the long hair and fancy makeup.

I liked it. 

When Empyrean began to set, I offered her my bed and told her to rest. She looked terribly small curled up in the blankets, drowning and lost when I threw more over her to ensure her warmth. Her big doe eyes looked betrayed when I headed for the dumbwaiter, and she seemed no more at ease when I promised I was only going for a walk.

Either way, out I slipped, down the dumbwaiter and out my door into the streets. In the fading light the window blew cold and I wished I’d thought to change into something beyond my tights and off the shoulder makeshift shirt. I pulled the fabric bundles out to cover my shoulders, but it did little to stop the goosebumps rising along my bare arms.

I headed towards the castle, Waving off men who thought I was a whore and whores alike. It was dark enough to be difficult to see by the time I arrived, and I wondered if I’d still be able to do what I had planned. 

With the castle two rows away, I turned west, towards the sea. Soon enough the salty taste in the wind hit me, and I searched for the soft pink house. That house had a drain pipe thick enough for me to climb up, and from the rooftop I could see both the castle and the docks.

Sure enough the docks were full of big, fancy boats with big fancy flags, some I knew and some I didn’t. Through it all I thought I saw the flag the old circus used to fly. I smiled to myself, of course the bloated bastards would come perform for a ball this big. Good money. 

Though the ball was to be held tonight, the gates were not thrown open as they usually would be. Instead, the doors were shut tight, and even the docks were on lockdown, guards patrolling every pier.

Looking down I noticed lots of guards roaming the streets as well, and it occured to me that they wouldn’t take kindly to riff raff sitting atop a roof so close to the castle. I began making my way back down the house. 

The moment my foot touched the soil I heard a shout, and just like that I was running. I wove between houses, back into the market where I leapt over carts and stands, trying to shake them. The late night roamers disappeared into the night when I past. 

Soon the shouting of the guards behind me grew faint, so I made my way back home. It was late, and the girls would all be gone now, so I slipped in through the front door. I regretted it the moment I heard a voice, raspy and quiet, cutting through the quiet. 

“Amaryllis?” I jumped and ducked, spinning to look at who’d spoken. Curled up in her plush bed, surrounded by tissues, sat a blonde girl, looking pale and sickly in the moonlight. “What are you doing down here?” 

“I could ask you a similar question, Melane.” I had rescued Melane a year ago. I found her early one morning when I had been slipping out to get my breakfast, bleeding out in the alley. I made sure she got home safely, and in return she didn’t tell anyone about my living above them. She was a sweet soul, I found a piece of cake in the dumbwaiter the day of her twenty fourth birthday a few months ago and I hoped it would become tradition. 

“I’m sick. Strep throat we think,” she rasped.

“Thats a shame. I’ll be going now, if I may. Too many guards out tonight, not good for a walk.”

“What are they doing? Will everyone be okay?”

“They’re looking for the princess, she’s missing.”

“But it’s the ball tonight!”

“I’m aware.”

“Oh… will everyone be okay?” 

“Of course. I made sure they knew the guards are around,” I said with a cheeky wink. “You rest up, and feel better soon, okay?”

She nodded. “Thank you Amaryllis.”

The door to the dumbwaiter closed as the front door burst open, causing Melane to shriek. I wanted to jump out and help her, but the Princess was waiting for me. I figured, in the end, she’d be fine. 

When I arrived, the princess was sitting up in bed watching me arrive. I offered a small smile. “You ought to be resting, your Highness.”

“I was worried. Where did you go?” she said, pulling the blankets tighter around her. 

“To the castle. I wanted to see what was happening with you missing.”

“And?”

“And it was amusing. The ball has been postponed, and the docks are in lockdown. Guards are around every corner.” I said, sitting in the blankets across from her. She kicked some over my legs.

“Were you seen?”

“Oh, yes. We had a nice little chase.”

“What?!” she exclaimed, panic stricken.

“Relax, I needed the exercise. Those tin can wearing klutzes couldn’t catch me if their life depended on it. Besides, there’s no real reason to them to follow me. Why would the person sitting on a roof have their beloved princess?” guilt writhed in my stomach. They probably had followed me back. And now they were taking Melane and the others.

It was a shame, I had grown fond of them. I hoped whoever bought the building afterwards were nice.

The princess nodded solemnly. I smiled. She offered a weak one back.

“Lay down and sleep, Princess.” I said softly, resisting the urge to pat her hand or stroke her hair. She did as she was told, bundled up in blankets. I pulled one around my own shoulders and sat the way I was, too on edge to even think of sleep.

***

It wasn’t even an hour later when I was shocked awake by heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. The princess lurched forward to grab my arm, and my brain, slow and sluggish in its sleepy state, decided the best thing to do was tuck her under my arm, as if that would keep her safe. 

The stairs weren’t sturdy, half of them burnt away from the fire, and I was sure there was no way they could get up them. But the sound of splintering wood and pained shouting never came, and instead we were surrounded by guards. 

I suppose my brain couldn’t keep up. I knew they were shouting things, and I knew the Princess was screaming back at them. My arms were being jerked behind my back and I was pushed to my knees. As they tore apart my blankets and dumped my clothes out of my box, the only thing I could clearly think about was how bitter I was. 

I could have been using the stairs this whole time? Damn.

The tinkle of breaking clay is what snapped me out of it, clearing the fog from my mind with a snap. At one of the guards feet lay my mask, its theatrically dramatic pout split by a jagged crack. I screamed before I even realized I was the one making that horrible, screeching sound. I jerked as hard as I could, twisting to escape the guards hold and save it, save the frowning mask looking at me with its big, sad eyes. I felt my shoulders pop in and out of place as I thrashed, nearly got free when another guard grabbed me. 

A boot came down hard on the piece of clay I’d carried my whole life. I’d made that with my own six year old hands, painted that curve oh so carefully. And now it was nothing but dust under the heel of a knight.

He held the other mask above his head, the grin twisted and leering at me. I braced for impact, but It never came. Instead, the mask was snatched from him by a dainty hand with lovely dark blue nails.

And then we were lead away. 

***

I curled up in the corner of my cell and sobbed drily. No matter how distraught I felt, I couldn’t summon the tears that had cascaded down my cheeks as the my masked had lain on my floor in two pieces. The air was dry, the dirt I sat on was dry. Everything was dry. I felt hollow. 

It was dark, and no matter how often I called out, no one answered. It was rumored that this king hated locking people in his dungeon, instead favouring public punishments such as whipping and hangings, or making them work ungodly hours of labour. At this point, I figured it was safe to assume those true. 

I could only wonder what was in store for me. Was I to starve to death and then be left to rot? Or maybe I would feed the rats. Perhaps I would be called to trial and slaughtered. I heard it had been a while since they used the guillotine. Wouldn’t be the first time I had left heads rolling. 

The last thing I expected was the glittery blue dress to appear the next night. 

The princess was stunning, hair pulled away from her heavily makeuped face. Her neckline was far lower than I would have expected, but I suppose she was there to find a husband.

“Your Highness, what brings you here?” I teased lightly, crawling forward to press against the bars. She began pulling up the many folds of her vast skirt, trying her hardest to find her way through them all. “What on earth are you doing?” I stuttered, completely taken aback.

“Oh stop that.” she snapped, now huffing slightly from the effort of rustling through the layers. She smiled triumphantly and dropped the fabric, holding up what she was looking for.

A slab of clay, with a cheeky smile painted in neat strokes

I pressed against the bars as hard as I could, straining with both hands to have it back in my possession.  As soon as it touched my fingers I snatched it away and pulled it into my lap, cradling it softly.

“You’re welcome.” She teased, her voice soft.

I chuckled and held the mask up to my face, smiling at her.

Gently, she put her fingers  against the top and lowered it. I saw she was kneeling, dirtying her dress. Her thumb caressed my cheek gently. I raise my hand to cover hers. 

“Careful princess, at this rate you’ll be the dirtiest of them all.”

“Good. I don’t want anyone to look at me.”

“They’ll certainly still be looking at you, just not with any desire to see you as their queen,” She rolled her eyes. I grinned. “Such attitude.”

“Amaryllis, you’ll make a fool of me yet.”

I grinned, and soon she was gone.

I turned my mask over in my hands, taking comfort in its smooth surface. What I didn’t expect was the key taped to the inner forehead.

There was no way. She couldn’t possibly have just smuggled me the key to my cell. And yet, five minutes later, as I slid the key into the lock, it fit. Turned. And the door swung open.

I crept down the hall, mask in one hand and key in the other, wondering how the hell I was going to find my way out of there. 

As I neared the staircase, an open door caught my eye. Inside, I saw a box of old clothes that looked like they hadn’t been touched in decades. It was just my luck to find a jester’s suit tucked away at the bottom. What a handy coincidence. 

I changed quickly, leaving my own clothes discarded in the box, and pranced up the stairs with my mask over my face, one eye peeking out. It wasn’t hard to find the ballroom, and easier still to find the circus people.

I wanted to join them, I missed the thrill of it all. It was crazy, I was supposed to be escaping. But I couldn’t wait to see the look on the princess's face.

The ringmaster looked quite surprised to see me. “Little Enchanter, what a pleasure to see your mask again.” I bowed deeply, biting my lip. When I left I hadn’t as much as said goodbye. I assumed he was pretty pissed at me, and his low drawl led me to believe I was right. He always was a jerk.

Something slammed into my side, and the wind was all but squeezed out of me by the tiny arms. I already knew who it was from the squealing in my ear. Tatina. She had one of my favourite and most shocking acts of all of us.

Tiny and elegant, she danced with such breathtaking grace you never could take your eyes away. With flowing skirts of soft pastel colours floating around her and a melody played from a music box, she truly was a sight to see, small and delicate.

And then we dropped a car on her. The audience, snapped out of the calm admiration, screamed. I never could stop myself from cackling.

Tatina, 5”2 and thin as a wire, was stronger than an ox. She could easily lift the car and toss it to the side.

Sometimes she forgot her own strength, and the hug she was crushing me in was one of those times. I tapped her arm to let her know she was about to break my ribs and she dropped me. I chuckled and turned to look at her. She was one of the people I missed most, she always felt lovely curled up against me at night. 

Now though, a large man, twice the average person's size with shocking green hair falling over his eyes, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and fixed me with a look that I think was supposed to be intimidating. I resisted the urge to laugh. They were cute.

I turned back to the Ringmaster and bowed again. “I look forward to performing with you tonight.”

He scoffed. “And what makes you think I’ll let you do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you? You know the crowd loves my act, and you can charge extra for a one night only, returning special.”

“You’ve always had a tongue of silver.” he said, chewing on my offer. I wanted to tell him that it was easy to persuade a man who wanted money, but I held my tongue. Finally, he nodded. “Prepare what you need, you’ll be the third act”

“Excellent. Sir, if I may, I would appreciate your help with my act. I ask you use your whip.” I said, nodding to where it was secured by his hip. He grinned down at me.

***

Lupines grinned at me while we stretched and waited for the applause to signal the end of the last act. By now the guards knew I was missing. When the applause came, I happily put my mask to my face. Lupines leapt onto the balcony railing and waved at the crowd, enjoying the spotlight. I leaned against the railing and pretended to be bored. Then, I shoved him off. 

I just barely bit back my laughter as a lady screamed. He tumbled and twirled through the air, and caught the bar of the swinging trapeze. About five others swung out to join him, and the audience marveled at the people swinging through the air on bars supported by huge, brightly coloured butterflies. Lupines came back to grab my hand, my other hand holding my mask to my face. I couldn’t see anything, and I loved the thrill of it.

He swung me one way and let me go. I did a somersault through the air and heard gasps of delight and terror. Someone caught me around the waist and launched me up. I flew straight up, arched, and fell back down, spinning. Someone else caught my ankle and spun me up and around. My free arm stayed straight up, waiting for my own metal bar to hit it. Soon it did and I happily pulled myself into the metal ring. 

I twisted and contorted myself into all sorts on funny shapes, making it look like I was falling several times. It was like a dance. The crowds ‘ooh’s and ‘ah’s were like music to my ears, a long forgotten melody. I decided I would perform on the streets more. 

I pulled the mask down and leapt from my hoop to the stage below where the king, queen and princess were watching. I bowed deeply, then leaned forward and tumbled to kneel at the princesses feet. I stretched out my hand, asking for hers. She rested it carefully in mine, and I slipped my mask up so I could press a kiss to the back of her hand. I sat up and winked, enjoying her look of pure terror and wonder before the ringmaster jumped out and beat me back, cracking the whip loudly and sending me tumbling back. 

***

I didn’t stick around after the performance, instead taking to the street and running home as fast as my feet would take me. The building was abandoned, but I knew it wouldn’t stay that way. I moved quickly, tearing down the tarps I used for a roof and piling all my clothes back into my box. Soon I had everything packed away and was leaving the building.

I had no clue where I’d go, but I knew I’d find somewhere. Lots of buildings were abandoned around here.

I spent the next week setting up my new home (this one had a roof!) and waiting for news on the Princess’s engagement. But instead of joy, the kingdom was soon plunged into dismay and sorrow, and instead of marriage there came news of death. The king and queen’s death. 

I felt my heart flutter when the news was announced in the town square, and I was glad I was sitting, for the world was spinning. I had never given the royal couple much thought, this was a fine kingdom in my eyes, but now I my thoughts went to the princess. The poor thing, alone, newly queen and unmarried. I wondered how she was handling it. 

I didn’t have much time to think about it really, as the next day wanted posters with my face and mask went up around town. This, I was bitter about, as I had been looking forwards to doing some street performances. The most curious thing was the size of the reward, as it was far more than I knew I was worth, and the specifications that I was to be brought in alive. 

The posters made my life hard. Everyone around here would give an arm for that amount of money, which made stealing my next meal very difficult. I fashioned my clothing to include hoods and stuffed the chest for a larger breast. I wished I could cut my hair, but there wasn’t much shorter I was willing to make it. Besides, my bangs hid my face nicely. I tore down any wanted posters I came by, but they always seemed to reappear the next day.

A week past. The marketplace stayed pleasantly busy, the bread stayed hard and the apples remained shiny. I was reaching for a loaf, certain the baker wasn't looking, when his husband grabbed my wrist. 

“Ray! We have ourselves a little thief!” He exclaimed, sounding far too delighted by the situation.

“Pretty little thing,” Ray replied, eyeing the fake lumps on my chest. His husband threw the loaf I had been stealing at his head, making him laugh. “I’m only joking, Dein, relax.” 

“You caught me, fair and square. I’ll leave you alone now,” I sighed, keeping my head bowed and trying to slip out of Dien’s grip. His stupid hand was too big and I couldn’t worm out of his grip. It was starting to hurt. 

“Show me your face, twerp,” Ray said, reaching for my hood. I jerked away, as far as I could while held by Dien. A crowd was gathering. 

“I wouldn’t do that, sir. You may find many more a loaf missing tomorrow, and it won’t just be these stale bricks you have the audacity to charge money for.” 

“I oughta cut off yer tongue,” Dien snarled, pulling me forward over the counter. The impact left me winded. My hood was torn away. 

I had never minded people staring at me, in fact I often enjoyed the attention of others, especially big crowds like this, with their gasps and murmurings. I never minded people watching and waiting for me to fall, probably because I was always sure I would never fall. However, this time, I wasn’t sure if I wasn’t going to fall. This was a thousand eyes watching my every move, waiting for their opportunity. Waiting for Dien’s grip to slip so one of them could grab me, hand me over to the castle and walk away rich. 

I launched myself over the counter and kicked Dein in the face. He finally let go and staggered back. Ray pulled my hood back over my face and got behind me, suffocating me. I pushed him back into the counter, but it didn’t do anything. I was screaming, thrashing anything I could think of to get him off. 

Then something smashed into the side of my head, and my body went limp.

When I came to I still couldn’t see, something rough was on my face and something was stuffed in my mouth. I tried to pull it away, but my wrists were tied tightly behind my back. Something patted my hip and Ray spoke.

“Hurry it up, Dien, they’re movin’ around again.”

“Hit ‘em again.”

“They’re wanted alive, you dingus.”

We were traveling down a bumpy road, on a wagon I assumed. I was bound at the ankles as well as the wrists. Didn’t stop me from kicking. The cry of pain it elicited settled the rage swelling in my chest. Ray’s mumbled threats meant nothing to me, but the tightening of my bindings frustrated me. At this rate I was bound to completely lose the circulation in my hands before we even reached the castle. 

***

Ray carried me over his shoulder, then dumped me on what felt like a marble floor. New hands picked me up and forced me to my knees, not at all nicely. The bag was lifted from my head and a guard looked me over. He winced and grinned as his eyes traveled over the right side of my face. I wanted to spit at him, right into his stupid red beard. It truly was a shame that I couldn’t. He shoved the bag back over my head.

It felt like forever before I heard a door open and heels clacking on the floor. The bearded guard spoke from beside me, but I didn't hear what he said over the princess's distraught shrieking.

“What have you done to them!” I heard her heels as she ran closer, then flinched in the light as she tore away the bag. Her face was painted with worry as she pulled the gag from my mouth and tossed it aside. I saw it was one of the blankets I had been using as a fake boob. It must've fallen out when they knocked me out. 

She didn't bother untying my wrists before she threw her arms around me.

"Your Highness." I said stiffly, not moving. She pulled away and looked down at my uneven chest in confusion. "It's impolite to ogle someone as such, I would've expected better manners from the queen."

She looked up and raised an unimpressed brow. I gazed back at, stoney faced. Her brow furrowed in hurt and confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re joking, right? I’m tied up and on my knees on your floor, hair stuck to my face from the blood that appeared after I was knocked out and thrown in the back of a wagon so that I could be brought to you for a reward. Now I’m just waiting for my execution date to be set.” I tried so hard to stay cold and distant. I didn’t doubt that some of my anger leaked through. 

I was quickly untied. The first thing I did was punch Ray in the face. When the guard came to hold me back I slipped away and spat on his shoes. 

He drew his sword. I stared him down. 

“ENOUGH!” the queen roared. “Lars. Take these men to collect their money and send them home.”

“But, Your Majesty...?”

“Now, Lars,” she snapped. 

Once they were gone she turned to me. I softened my glare, but not much. “What’s next. The dungeon? A trial?”

“No, Amaryllis.”

“Then what do you want.”

“I was looking for you because I wanted-”

“I won’t tell anyone anything.”

“That’s not-”

“I’m not moving out or getting a job or paying taxes.”

“Amaryllis would you-”

“And I’m not going to stop stealing or leave the kingdom.”

“WOULD YOU SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME, YOU FOOL!” I sucked in my breath. I wished I had my mask, I wished my body didn’t hurt so much from being manhandled so I could twist and bend and scared her and run away. I hated her, I hated everything she put me through. I hate her stupid face and her stupid hair and her stupid dress and her stupid voice. I glared at her eyes, but I wanted to look away, I didn’t want to watch her expression soften like it did all those nights ago. I couldn’t look away, I wasn’t some trembling quim here to bow at her feet. She’d used me enough and I wasn’t going to suffer anymore from it. I hated her.

“I want to offer you a position at the castle,” she said, looking relieved to get it out.

“I’m not going to be your stupid court jester,” I all but snarled. “Especially after how thoughtlessly you dragged me here.”

“That’s not the position I’m offering,” she said slowly, fidgeting with one of the rings on her fingers. I didn’t know why she seemed so nervous, perhaps she was scared I’d hit her as well. I hoped she regretted sending that stupid red bearded guard out. She pulled the ring right off and held it up to me. It was a pretty little thing, a thick, intricately carved golden hoop with little  reddish pink jewels scattered across it's design. “I was wondering if you’d want to… to… rule with me?”

I blinked. I blinked again. Something wasn’t working in my brain, I couldn’t figure out what the words she was saying meant. She started rambling, avoiding eye contact and rubbing the band of the ring with her thumb.

“Of course, I’d like for us to court first, I don’t really want to just jump into it, that would be illogical and I mean even this is gamble, I only knew you for a few hours, but they were an amazing few hours and I really enjoyed them, I enjoyed your company. You're performance was amazing, by the way, incredibly daring and stupidly bold of you to do that."

"Princess," I said, letting out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. "Please shut up."

***

Long before I was born, there was a witch named Amara. She had long, dark hair that flowed longer than any princess or queens hair. Her skin and body were soft and smooth with youth, and her face was slim and gorgeous. Many tried to woo her, king and queen, royalty and peasant alike. 

Though flattered, the witch had no need for anyone doting on her beauty, and instead devoted herself to her work as the castle magician. She tamed fairies and cast the grandest of spells to entertain guests at the royal balls. Everywhere she went, little six petaled flowers bloomed, freshening the castle with their scent and brightening everyones day. 

No one quite knows what happened the night the storm hit, but they do know she fled the castle, screaming a horrible, banshee's scream that rattled people's ribcages days after it had ended. 

The storm that struck that night raged for a month, ripping up trees and tearing apart houses. The water flooded the streets and the thunder deafened people. People died, and the kingdom was left in disarray, without a powerful magician to help clean it up. 

The king sent patrols out to search the forest. He knew Amara couldn't have left the island with the sea raging along with the storm, and therefore had to be hiding in the forest. 

After a month of searching, they found her laying in an empty meadow deep within the forest. Upon first glance, they feared she was dead, but as soon they set foot within the ring of trees, thousands of six petaled, pink-ish red flowers bloomed. Amaryllis, like the ones she was so fond of at the castle. 

Though gorgeous, upon the knights second steps into the field of pinkish red, the flowers spit out a nasty gas, and seconds later the knight was dead. Amara didn't stir, and the troops rushed back to the castle to share the news.

It took 7 months before the knights figured out how to get past the flowers and brought the witch back to the castle. 

By this time it was very obvious that she was pregnant. She spent only one night in the castles hospital before she gave birth at precisely noon the next day. She never got to hold her baby, but she did hiss its name into the king's ear as she melted away.

Amaryllis. 

***

Castle life was hard to get used too. Though I'd spent the first fourteen years of my life wreaking havoc on a castle several kingdoms away, it was far different here. Here I could eat whenever I was hungry, and my bed was more than just a cot on the ground. Here I had clothes specially tailored to me, a bed that felt like I was laying on a cloud and as many blankets as I wanted. 

Crissa, a sweet old maid that had been assigned to me, appeared at my shoulder every morning to make sure I'd eaten and was properly dressed. I think I nearly gave her a heart attack the first morning when I walked out in tights and a dress with the skirt cut off. 

The first dinner we shared, the queen quietly admit that her name wasn't Lucy. It was Elodie. She was startled when I laughed so hard I spilt my goblet of water. Every night and every morning she sat me down in the garden and brushed my hair. I was sure this was supposed to be Crissa's job, but I never said anything, instead enjoying the way her fingertips brushed against my neck. At night, she sang, the combination of her sweet lullabies and gentle touches lulling me gently to sleep. Then she would kiss my cheek and tell me to get to bed, with the promise that she would see me tomorrow.

When we were finally wed, I found the whole ceremony tedious and lame. Not that I told anyone. Not that I did much more than smile politely at anyone. I didn't really know anyone.

I was finally let into Elodie's room that night, and I was quite thrilled to curl up beside her. She giggled, far too giddy to sleep, and covered my face in gentle kisses while I rested my hands on her hips. She was so soft, so solid against me. Butterflies danced around my chest and I felt warm from the inside out.

On the anniversary of her parents death, Elodie didn't sleep, instead curling up in my lap to shake and sob, pressing a ring to her lips and murmuring. I held her and comforted her until something inside her broke and she told me what I never expected to heard. 

My soft little Elodie, my strong, brave wife, sobbed into my shoulder and told me all about the poison she'd poured into her parents drinks. I asked her why, and I just couldn't understand when she told me it was so that she could have me.

Every now and then I take a walk through my old neighborhood. I stop by the bakers to watch Ray and Dein squirm and avoid eye contact while I buy bread. I buy a bag of apples to go with it, and then I find some hungry kids. I always know where they are. 

One day, I decided to go back to the building I lived in front two years. Back up the dumbwaiter to the room I hid Eloide for a day. When I arrived, I was surprised to find a lady sitting in the center of the room. At first all I saw was a silhouette, her impressively long black hair shining in the afternoon light and pooling around her. She turned when I stepped out of the dumbwaiter, her slim face lighting up when she saw me. I tried to speak, but I couldn't find my voice. She stood, her white gown absolutely glowing against her tan skin.

 She smiled softly and held out her hands to me. In them rested a clay slate, about the size of my face. On it, immaculately painted, was a face made up of three lines twisted into a frown. 

I finally had both of them again.

Tears leaked down my face. I wasn't sure why, really. I was absolutely thrilled to have it back again, but I was hardly so overcome with emotion that I would cry.

I looked back up hoping I would be able to thank her. There was no woman though, only a large, six petaled, pink-ish red flower, dancing in the gentle breeze.

Amaryllis.

[elmnopen]

Could you see it?

No.

Could you hear it?

No.

Could you smell it?

No.

Could you taste it?

No.

But you could feel it. Oh, you could feel it, thick in the air and pooling in your lungs until it filled your throat and coated your tongue, making it too heavy to move. It refused to leave you, weighing you down further into its embrace. It wormed its way into your body, into your ears, up your nostrils and under your eyes. It crawled under your skin, the warm organ shifting and bumping, little hills rolling all over you. 

It swelled like music, filling you until you think you might burst, then dropping suddenly, leaving you to shiver, feeling so hollow. Leaving you alone, straining for it again.

It rustled and bumped, knocked against your heart, your brain .It twisted and coiled around your ribs and then down around your stomach and intestines. It fell to your feet so that you couldn’t lift them, then shot up through you and rattled around your skull, knocking you over to where you lay, thinking of the echo of your own laugh. It observed the shapes of your organs, the way they pulsed with purpose. It came up to your eyes and cast dark shadows to watch you stumble through the void it had made. It wound around your bones, cracking them to see their marrow and feel you crumble as your supports fall away. It tore open your veins and flooded them, leaving no room for the blood that was supposed to flow there.

When the empty shell that was you lay there motionless, painted crimson and purple and all the dulled colours of the rainbow, no longer pulsing and fighting, It slipped back out through your gums and under your nails, seeping out through your pores until there truly was nothing nothing left inside. 

When they found you they screamed. 

Oh, how it loved that sweet, sweet music.

It wondered,

How did this one work?

[elmnopen]

Beautiful World

As always, rain pattered against my window. No morning light streamed elegantly through my curtains to kiss me awake, no birds chirped cheerfully. It was just my alarm and the soft tapping of rain on glass. 

I stared at the darkness that consumed my room and took a deep breath. Then, just to still myself, I took another. Today would be just like all the others; there almost wasn’t a point any more.

Rain picked up as I left my home. The world was so ugly it made the sky cry, flooding and staining everything with dreary, grey sorrow. At least, that’s how I’d always seen it. The sun never came out, having long abandoned us to drown in our grotesque misery and our monotonous routines. 

It was all so depressing. 

I splashed down the street with the crowd as it flowed like a river into the subway. The cement under our feet remained soaked, but the shelter protected us from the sky’s onslaught, allowing us to drop our umbrellas and shake them out. 

Suddenly, seeping through the usual subway din, a sound tickled my ear. One gentle, cheerful chord resonated through the cement tunnel, followed by another, and another.

My heart leapt into my throat.

I looked around desperately until I pinpointed the source; off in the corner, tucked out of the way of the ever churning crowd, stood a girl. A guitar hung around her thin frame, its case resting open at her feet. Her soft golden hair was held back by two little braids sprouting from her temples, leaving her round face on display. 

As she strummed the wooden instrument her lips pulled back to reveal a smile that lit up the subway. She was brighter than the harsh white lights that lit up the tunnel, and a thousand times more beautiful. 

I stood, immovable, mouth agape. Chord after chord resonated through my body, shocking every cell awake. Behind her was the subway wall, covered in splashes of colour that I’d never really stopped to look at before. Now the once dull art practically glowed as it demanded my attention. 

Paint covered every inch of the walls, rebellious graffiti from lawless kids who couldn’t follow the rules like the rest of us. I had never bothered to acknowledge the graffiti. All I had thought about it was that someday those kids would learn to step in line. Someday they would learn the grey was unchangeable and they would adopt their own monotonous routines.

But it looked different now beside the sunny little girl who sang her joyous song. Colour splashed into the grey, changing it, creating something new. A break. Something exciting and different. The rebellion was the kids making a place for happiness in their world, instead of them waiting around for it to find them. 

And it was beautiful. It was like seeing for the first time, living in a world of greys to finally see real, gorgeous colour. I wanted to do that, I needed to do that.

Behind me, my train squealed out of the station, a sleek grey worm disappearing down that dark grey hole like it did every day. A thrill ran through me as I looked around again. Simply waiting for the next train and arriving late seemed out of the question. No, I decided, I wasn’t going to work today. 

I bounded up the steps and back into the rain, not bothering with my umbrella. Rain droplets cooled my face as I turned it to the sky. The water looked like thousands of glittering diamonds, sparkling as they tumbled out of the sky. Clouds, heavy and dark coiled above me, a thousand shades of grey I’d never seen before. The rain blurred the lines of the world, the only survivors being the colourful traffic lights that blared through, smudged against the background. At my feet the puddles danced, jumping and winding in rivers down the street.

The puddles exploded underfoot as I began to run. 

As always, Rain pattered against my window. 

My alarm sang its morning song to me, and rain pattered elegantly against my window. 

I took a deep breath and sat up to open my curtains. The beautiful world streamed in.

[elmnopen]

Fleeting Happiness

Peace came with the gentle tinkle of the music box. A sense of stillness, the ability to breathe for what felt like the first time in forever. Dust floated through the gentle golden rays of sunlight that slipped through the half closed curtains, little bits of the outside world slipping in. she didn’t mind that much; it was a gentle, beautiful reminder of what else there was. 

It’s so hard to capture happiness, contentedness, or even peace in words. Anger and sadness and every variation on those themes boil and overflow, spilling onto pages in twisted forms, desperate to be understood or at the very, very least heard. They abide no rules, break free of guidelines and crush anything in their path in their desperation. Anger is easily recognized in the harsh brush strokes of a painting, found in shouts that ring through every corner. Sadness is often carried in the heavy chords of a song, pain filled lyrics weighing everyone down.  

But happiness is fleeting, momentary and brief. Snapshots of lives, people in their pjs dancing in the kitchen while their meal cooks, a guitar beside a campfire. Even memories become bittersweet, swelling joy dampened by nostalgia. 

There aren’t enough words to convey the swelling feeling, like a bubble about to burst into laughter, joy exploding within, an orchestra’s crescendo. Maybe silence, like the kind early in the morning, when the first beams of sunlight touch the dewy grass, maybe that peace is where happiness is found. 

Maybe happiness is a moment in time, pure so long as you protect it from past and present. Happiness is not to be captured in something so eternal as words or photos. Perhaps happiness comes from living and letting go, if only for a moment.

And when the moment has passed, you can smile as you listen to the echo of your laughter.