Fiction: A Young Girl’s Trial (Part 2 of 2)

08 Nov

So, it was decided.  Princess Quinn led the procession to take Morrigan home to collect some of her things.  It was decided that she would live for most of the month in the castle, in quarters near the Princess’s rooms, and for a couple days each month, she would go home to be with her family.

They were met right outside the castle door by that family, Morrigan’s two older sisters, one older brother, and younger twin brother and sister, rushed forward to pull her into a hug, desperately happy to see her there alive, looking well, and not bound in chains.

When she attended her father’s next royal decree, Princess Quinn wore a dark red ribbon to tie her hair back, and praised Morrigan for starting the new fashion statement.  Morrigan has worn a ribbon every day for the past eleven years, since that faithful day as a seven year old.  The ribbons that she worn on that day, still sit carefully in the top drawer of her dresser, and when she need reassurance that everything is going to be alright, she pulls those ribbons out, and winds them between her fingers.  It was a nice, gentle, reassurance that everything was going to be alright.

Morrigan became friends with Princess Quinn, and their families grew closer over time.  In fact, now a twenty one year old woman, Princess Quinn was in discussions with Morrigan’s family to marry Morrigan’s older brother, Casey, also twenty one years old.  Morrigan loudly proclaimed that it was disgusting, but in her heart of hearts she was happy for them.  They were truly in love, and, hey, who didn’t want to be the sister of the future king.

However, that love did give a little bit extra fuel to the fire for those who were sure that Morrigan was evil, that she was brainwashing the Princess into marrying her brother, and that the end result was to be a struggle for power where Quinn might be the Queen in name, but Morrigan would be pulling all the strings.

Morrigan stopped skipping for a second. That’s why her childhood had been so stilted, so jaded.  Because Morrigan had to remember that every step she took, ever word she uttered, every slight flick of the eye, she was being watched, judged, and whispered about.  Whether they had the best of intentions or the worse, the fact of the matter was, they were still watching her, and she wished that just for once in her life, she could be all alone.

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Posted by on November 8, 2014 in Stories


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