But when Clara arrived, shaking, of course, her Uncle refused to speak with her. The maid knocked on the large wooden door only to hear muffled cursing and the soft, frightened voice of her aunt. "That is my aunt and uncle, and this is home." thought Clara, cynically. With her aunt and uncle unavailable, the maid led Clara to the room she was going to live in from now on. Clara thanked the maid, who nodded her head politely and left after casting a sympathetic look at Clara.

Clara looked around her room. It wasn't bad at all, surprisingly enough. There was a large bed in the middle, with pink, satin sheets and a painting of a large pink rose hanging above it. There was a tall mirror standing in the corner, and when Clara glanced into it, she saw a small girl who looked too young and small to be 15, with pale skin begging for sunlight, chapped lips, dark clothes, and tired eyes. There was a desk made of dark wood with an equally dark chair, standing in front of a large, rectangular window. Her bags were standing on in the corner, looking as pathetic, dark, and lonely as Clara felt. She sat down in the chair and looked out the window. The outside world just went on without her, bright and lively. Seconds passed by, then minutes. She had so many thoughts running through her mind...about her family, and how she forgot they even existed, about William, the silly, cheerful boy with a strange past...and how horrible life would be now, here with her terrible Uncle.

Suddenly, Clara did not know why she was still here. Why did she live when everyone else died? Why was she chosen? She promised herself never to go to that dreadful, beautiful clearing ever again. Was it magic? Witchcraft? What made her forget? Then, thinking of witchcraft, she remembered what the knight said to William. She had to be on her toes at this place. Something peculiar was going on...and Clara meant to find out.


"My Lady, my Lady wake up! It is dinner time...oh please do get dressed! Quickly!" Clara lifted her head up off the desk and looked out the window. The sun was beginning to set. She had fallen asleep? But then...she had slept all day! She hadn't unpacked or undressed...her uncle would be furious! But the maid was insisting.

"What is your name?" Clara asked, sleepily. The maid raised one eyebrow. "Becka, my Lady, but...you must get ready, dinner will be served in promptly 20 minutes! Lord Schipellet does not tolerate lateness. And Lady Landrea has prepared a splendid meal; my Lady today you should be happy, because you are joining our wonderful manor. Perhaps after dinner, your cousin, Sir Gregory, can give you a tour around the grounds!" As Becka the maid chattered, she was pulling Clara into the wash room, scrubbing her face, combing the knots out of her dark brown hair, and soon enough, tightening a deathly white corset on her frail body. Meanwhile, Clara was trying to soak in information. She had a...a cousin? A boy cousin? She decided to speak up.

"...and there will be corn and bread, oh good bread dear, not the kind we eat, oh no. Oh, and you should see the dining room it is absolutely-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt but...I was not aware of having...a cousin." Clara interrupted Becka's cheerful chatter. Becka looked at her, astounded. Then she laughed, in a friendly fashion. "Oh, well, I'm sure you will...like him...very much, dear! He's quite handsome, so, if he takes you around the village I'm sure the other girls will just...well..." Becka noticed that Clara was not looking any happier than she has looked in the past 10 minutes. So therefore, being the understanding woman that she was, she cheerfully changed the subject.

"Well I'm sure you like brownies, I've made the most delicious batch, it can cheer up the gloomiest of folks, I promise you..."


Clara sat down beside her aunt at a large wooden table. Her uncle did not speak with her. Having seen her aunt for the first time in about two years, she was astounded at her appearance. The woman lost all color in her cheeks! All the life was drained away from her eyes! Her aunt was usually such a bright character, maybe not the most intelligent, but happy and lively all the same. She wore a black dress.

"Good evening, Aunt Landrea, Uncle Schipellet. Thank you for-" Her uncle slammed his fist on the table, causing the silverware to rattle and her aunt to flinch slightly. Then he spoke, his voice smooth like honey, though seemingly dangerous as the sharpest sword.

"Clara, dear, now that you are living within our manor, you must know some rules. I am the Lord here. Your Aunt, well, she is the Lady but does not hold the rules as I do. She is foolish therefore do not listen to her as you will listen to me." Aunt Landrea did not seem to mind the insult. She simply stared blankly forward. Lord Schipellet continued, "Now, what you did this afternoon is not one of the rules. It is common sense, you see, that you do NOT go riding off with the stable boy, upon arrival, at MY MANOR. IS THIS UNDERSTOOD?" His voice went from honey sweet to dagger sharp, piercing into Clara's ears.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Good, then. Let us begin dinner!" He clapped his hands twice and flashed a smile at both Clara and Aunt Landrea, who smiled back almost obediently and slightly nodded. Clara simply stared back into his glass eyes and fake smile, and then looked down at her empty plate. Some servants ran out with steaming dishes of baked potatoes covered in garlic and spices, baked herring, plates with steaming vegetables, plates with bacon, lamb, lark, and peppered chickens, and bottles of wine and champagne in bowls of glass with ice. William was not one of these servants. "Maybe because he's just the stable boy, he doesn't do kitchen work," thought Clara. She hoped nothing had happened to him; and even though they had just met, she felt like he was her best friend, the only person she could trust, in this horrible place. Besides perhaps Becka, but she was a little annoying.

"Father, Mother, and this must be Clara, my long-lost cousin." A handsome boy, with light, shoulder length hair and sky blue eyes walked into the hall. Clara bowed her head slightly as the boy sat across from her. "He looks older than I am!" Clara thought to herself, "How could I not have known about him?" But she felt it would be too bold to speak now.

"Excuse me for being late, Father. I was skinning my newest catch. The hunting was a success, as it usually is." Lord Schipellet looked at his son with extreme pride.

"Let us eat?" Lord Schipellet started placing food into his plate, as did the others. But when Clara reached for a juicy chicken leg, her aunt slapped her hand.

"You can eat one potatoe and a piece of bread. And as one of the rules of the manor, you may not leave this table until everyone has finished. That is your punishment." And after seeing Clara's shocked expression, her uncle added, "Be happy we are feeding you at all." Then he took the chicken, and bit into it without breaking eye contact with Clara.

So she ate her one potatoe and piece of bread and thanked them for it too, and much to Lord Schipellet annoyance, she didn't complain one bit. Soon everyone was finished with their meal and Clara was excused. As she climbed up the winding stairs to her room, she caught sight of Sir Gregory staring back at her.

In her room she sat on her bed and thought things over. What will happen to her tomorrow? Who is this unexpected cousin? Will Lord Schipellet ever be kind to her? Is there a more harsh punishment coming her way? Her stomach growled a bit. She wished she could talk to someone...and then she thought, where is William? She looked out her window towards the stables. There, just as she had expected (and hoped to see), William was going stall to stall, throwing some hay in for the horses. Then he threw the remaining hay on the ground, and appeared to contently lie down to sleep. She could almost see the wind tousling his messy hair as he lay there. Suddenly self conscious, Clara turned towards her bed covered with satin sheets and plush pillows, and suddenly realized how exhausted she really was.