As the carriage rolled into the lazy countryside of the English kingdom,
the sun rose and warmly peeked through the fog. Within the carriage rode a
young girl of about 15, wearing a black dress of mourning, and a hat with a
dark veil covering her face. She was holding on to a fan tightly as if it
were her protection and only friend. She lifted her veil and pulled out a
handkerchief.
"We are almost here, my Lady." said the coach, as the carriage rolled along on the dirt road, the four horses kicking up dirt on the dewy grass. The lady simply nodded, knowing he wouldn't see her reply.
Within another hour perhaps, after the lady nodded off to sleep, the carriage stopped in front of a large castle. A little ways from the castle was a stable, and one could hear horses whining from within. Surrounding the castle was a large moat, as with most castles of that time. The lady awakened at the sudden stop, and looked outside. Someone had seen the carriage approach and lowered the drawbridge. After they had crossed the bridge, the carriage stopped. The lady waited for the coach to open the door for her, and when he did she carefully stepped down and looked at the gray stone stronghold looming before her. A young maid ran out to meet her.
"Well, I shall be going now, my Lady. Sorry about...your...well," the coach stuttered.
"Yes. Thank you." the lady did not let him finish because whenever someone spoke of the incident, it brought pain in the back of her throat and tears would sting her eyes. But she wanted to look like a strong young woman for her aunt and uncle, the only family she now had left. She walked to the front of the carriage and stroked the horses one last time. There was a silence for a while, when the maid started speaking cheerfully.
"Hello, dear Clara! Welcome! Oh what terrible colors you wear, my girl. Come inside your uncle is waiting." Clara winced at the mention of her dress colors; it was rude for the maid to say this. She was still mourning for the loss of her entire family, even though it has well been at least a month. To make matters worse, she always knew that her uncle had despised her. Ever since he saw her, he would make rude comments to her when no one was within hearing distance. Her aunt was nicer, but of course had to always agree with her uncle because he was the lord of the manor. She never believed to find happiness again. She clutched her black fan ever tighter, and waved goodbye to the friendly coach with her other hand. Then Clara followed the maid inside, and into a room where she left her.
"Clara, Clara, Clara." Her uncle greeted her as such, seated in a cozy sitting room with a fire playing inside the fireplace. "Sit down, precious, pathetic thing." Clara politely took off her hat and placed it on a table. Then she sat down in a dark green armchair across from her uncle. He was smoking a pipe and kept puffing smoke in her direction. The room was filled with dark colors, dark purples and greens mostly. On the mantelpiece were a few candles burning brightly. Above it hung heads of various animals her uncle hunted. There was an uncomfortable silence, and suddenly Clara spoke, trying to be bold. "Uncle, I well know you do not...enjoy my presence here too well, but please...try to be friendly...I would like to be your friend and have my stay here be happy because-" At this her uncle started laughing uncontrollably, almost like a madman. He waved his pipe around crazily, and accidentally dropped it. Then he gasped and yelled, "Boy! Pick up my pipe!" As he yelled this, a boy tripped into the room. His hair was messy and unwashed, dark brown, with pieces of straw stuck within. His clothes were tattered and torn of course, like most slaves' and stable boys'. He was barefoot, and his skin was tan, probably from working outside so much. He hastily bowed to Clara and her uncle, and then picked up the pipe.
"There, Lord Schipellet." Her uncle took the pipe out of the boy's hand without a word of thank you, and chuckled. Clara gazed wide eyed at this dirty boy. All the slaves were kept in much better shape at her castle. But her castle was no more.
"Say hello to Clara. She will be staying with us from now on. Clara, this is William, our stable boy." Clara stood up as the boy bowed, and she held out her hand. Her uncle gasped as the boy just began to lean down to touch his lips on Clara's hand.
"William, stop right there! Clara, you should know better than to act this way around filth!" her uncle yelled, infuriated. Clara immediately pulled back her hand in fright. William hid a chuckle by turning his head away from Uncle Schipellet. When Clara saw William laughing silently, she couldn't help but smile herself. His friendly laughter was very contagious, and this was her first smile in a month.
"Clara! What is so funny?!" her uncle was extremely furious as he said this, and he stood up. He walked up to Clara, and immediately her smile wiped off her face. He was a tall and intimidating man. He raised his hand and slapped her, and she stumbled back into a table holding a candle and tipped it over. The hot wax spilled all over the dark green and purple carpet covering the stone floor. Clara was seeing sparks in her eyes from the impact of the hit. William quickly started picking up what was dropped, and Clara's uncle started approaching Clara once again. In fright, Clara ran and backed up against a wall, her uncle still approaching. He picked up a stone paper weight and raised it over his head, as if to hit her. She whined softly, and tears of dread starting to pour from her dark green eyes. She heard herself scream and William yell...and then her uncle laughing as he put down the paperweight. She stared at him in horror, and ran outside towards the stables.
"We are almost here, my Lady." said the coach, as the carriage rolled along on the dirt road, the four horses kicking up dirt on the dewy grass. The lady simply nodded, knowing he wouldn't see her reply.
Within another hour perhaps, after the lady nodded off to sleep, the carriage stopped in front of a large castle. A little ways from the castle was a stable, and one could hear horses whining from within. Surrounding the castle was a large moat, as with most castles of that time. The lady awakened at the sudden stop, and looked outside. Someone had seen the carriage approach and lowered the drawbridge. After they had crossed the bridge, the carriage stopped. The lady waited for the coach to open the door for her, and when he did she carefully stepped down and looked at the gray stone stronghold looming before her. A young maid ran out to meet her.
"Well, I shall be going now, my Lady. Sorry about...your...well," the coach stuttered.
"Yes. Thank you." the lady did not let him finish because whenever someone spoke of the incident, it brought pain in the back of her throat and tears would sting her eyes. But she wanted to look like a strong young woman for her aunt and uncle, the only family she now had left. She walked to the front of the carriage and stroked the horses one last time. There was a silence for a while, when the maid started speaking cheerfully.
"Hello, dear Clara! Welcome! Oh what terrible colors you wear, my girl. Come inside your uncle is waiting." Clara winced at the mention of her dress colors; it was rude for the maid to say this. She was still mourning for the loss of her entire family, even though it has well been at least a month. To make matters worse, she always knew that her uncle had despised her. Ever since he saw her, he would make rude comments to her when no one was within hearing distance. Her aunt was nicer, but of course had to always agree with her uncle because he was the lord of the manor. She never believed to find happiness again. She clutched her black fan ever tighter, and waved goodbye to the friendly coach with her other hand. Then Clara followed the maid inside, and into a room where she left her.
"Clara, Clara, Clara." Her uncle greeted her as such, seated in a cozy sitting room with a fire playing inside the fireplace. "Sit down, precious, pathetic thing." Clara politely took off her hat and placed it on a table. Then she sat down in a dark green armchair across from her uncle. He was smoking a pipe and kept puffing smoke in her direction. The room was filled with dark colors, dark purples and greens mostly. On the mantelpiece were a few candles burning brightly. Above it hung heads of various animals her uncle hunted. There was an uncomfortable silence, and suddenly Clara spoke, trying to be bold. "Uncle, I well know you do not...enjoy my presence here too well, but please...try to be friendly...I would like to be your friend and have my stay here be happy because-" At this her uncle started laughing uncontrollably, almost like a madman. He waved his pipe around crazily, and accidentally dropped it. Then he gasped and yelled, "Boy! Pick up my pipe!" As he yelled this, a boy tripped into the room. His hair was messy and unwashed, dark brown, with pieces of straw stuck within. His clothes were tattered and torn of course, like most slaves' and stable boys'. He was barefoot, and his skin was tan, probably from working outside so much. He hastily bowed to Clara and her uncle, and then picked up the pipe.
"There, Lord Schipellet." Her uncle took the pipe out of the boy's hand without a word of thank you, and chuckled. Clara gazed wide eyed at this dirty boy. All the slaves were kept in much better shape at her castle. But her castle was no more.
"Say hello to Clara. She will be staying with us from now on. Clara, this is William, our stable boy." Clara stood up as the boy bowed, and she held out her hand. Her uncle gasped as the boy just began to lean down to touch his lips on Clara's hand.
"William, stop right there! Clara, you should know better than to act this way around filth!" her uncle yelled, infuriated. Clara immediately pulled back her hand in fright. William hid a chuckle by turning his head away from Uncle Schipellet. When Clara saw William laughing silently, she couldn't help but smile herself. His friendly laughter was very contagious, and this was her first smile in a month.
"Clara! What is so funny?!" her uncle was extremely furious as he said this, and he stood up. He walked up to Clara, and immediately her smile wiped off her face. He was a tall and intimidating man. He raised his hand and slapped her, and she stumbled back into a table holding a candle and tipped it over. The hot wax spilled all over the dark green and purple carpet covering the stone floor. Clara was seeing sparks in her eyes from the impact of the hit. William quickly started picking up what was dropped, and Clara's uncle started approaching Clara once again. In fright, Clara ran and backed up against a wall, her uncle still approaching. He picked up a stone paper weight and raised it over his head, as if to hit her. She whined softly, and tears of dread starting to pour from her dark green eyes. She heard herself scream and William yell...and then her uncle laughing as he put down the paperweight. She stared at him in horror, and ran outside towards the stables.