Part I

Deception within Cathedrals

She gasped as the knife pierced her flesh, little red drops forming. It slowly ran down her pale arm in thin streams. Blood. It reassured her, telling her she was real. It snapped her back into reality, her head jerking up to look at the flowing red canopy above her. Some of the blood dripped onto the sheets, invisible on the deep red colour. Everything in the room was red. Her gaze swept over to the window, framed by red drapes. Even the stars seemed tainted with crimson. At that point, in her eyes, anything was seen through a crimson haze.

She brought her head back down, not looking at her arm. She hated reminding herself of her pathetic habit. Instead she gazed at the tiles on the floor, pretty designs of flowers, weaving in and out of each other, glinting gold. She got up and swept over to the other side of the room, then gently slipped her arm under the cool water surface in a large, gold bowl. She relaxed, and little beads of cold sweat trickled down her face as her eyelids fluttered and closed. She let her mind wander, feeling the coldness prickle down her spine through the heavy folds of her yellow gown.

She blinked out the bright pain and shifted contentedly. The sunlight was spilling in through the glass. She lay back on the brightly coloured pillows, each one different. Her fingers played with the gold tassels of one of them. One leg slipped out from the heavy blankets, stretching. She squinted at her foot, wriggled her toes. It seemed like such a wonder. Everything seemed wondrous.

She rolled over, the leg outside of the sheets getting tangled. She gazed at his face, and agreed with herself that above everything else, this was by far the most amazing, exalting wonderment. Hearing him breathe, watching him move, seeing the chocolate locks fall across his closed eyes. She laid a hand on the side of his face, and let her eyes fall closed as she leaned forward…

They snapped open. Someone was banging on the door. She composed herself and walked over to it with all the poise and grace of a noblewoman she could muster under the circumstances, and slowly opened the door, her cuts hidden under the long sleeves of her dress. A cold mask of indifference had slid over her features as she stared at the cloaked man before her.

“Yes?”

The messenger put one hand inside his black cloak and drew out a small envelope sealed with a plain circular design in yellow wax. She gently plucked the letter from his bony hand. He muttered “Milady” and left.

She closed the door silently and then turned and walked over to her desk. She sat down and carefully broke the seal. She unfolded the envelope and read hastily, her eyes soaking up the small message. She had to leave.

Hugging the paper to her heart like a young girl she rushed around, getting ready. She wrapped a piece of a sheet around her arm and braided her hair, then twisted it into a bun. She slipped out of the elaborate gown and climbed into a plain brown one, throwing on her warmest cape and gloves afterwards. She packed only extra undergarments, and the few priceless jewels she had left. Before leaving, she turned at tossed the letter into the fire. It crackled and blackened before disappearing into the ashes.

Luckily, her room was only on the second floor and a large oak tree grew alongside it. Shouldering her bag, she stepped onto the sturdiest of the branches and made her way down, small branches scraping her face. She dropped to the ground from the lowest branch with a small “thud” that made her entire body shudder. She gritted her teeth and kept on.

The guards were all drugged by the messenger who had come to her, lying on top of each other in awkward heaps. She slipped past them, tightening her cloak about her as it began to snow. Brushing snowflakes from her eyes, she strode away from the castle and towards the woods and whipping wind.