I’m getting thin she says.

I cannot eat, not when she’s standing so close, holding me at night and not loving me like I love her.

This isn’t right, I’m not meant to love her!

My life is already a plan before me, I am to marry a rich man and bare him many sons and all I want is for her to wrap her arms about me and kiss me.

She dresses me in rich silks and heavy velvets; she kisses my cheek and tells me I’m beautiful.

All I can do is weep.

She’s already rounded in belly with her husbands child….how old is she now? 14? 15?

I’m still awaiting my fathers decree when I shall be old enough for men to marry me, I don’t want to leave her, I’ll beg to take her with me when the coach leaves.

She calls me Rose like the flowers always by my dressing table and I call her maid, I don’t even know her name.

She looks at me sometimes and when the light catches her just right I could believe she loved me.

And sometimes at night she holds me extra tight.