Hidden Perfections

It took Emma longer than she thought it would to reach the castle. Mostly because her horse kept getting spooked by owls and strange shadows, but she also took some wrong turns. After all, she had never been to this castle before. She manged to get herself back on the right path though.

After three long hours in the saddle, she could finally see the outline of the castle straight ahead. When she got close enough, she dismounted her horse and walked the rest of the way in.

There was no gates, no moat or draw bridge. It was set up like a house, only it was a castle.

The sun was just coming up, the rays barely over the horizon. In the dim light Emma could see large wooden doors, and the outline of a tall man with broad shoulders leaning against it. As she got closer she saw the man push away from the door and walk towards her, as she was still walking towards him.

Because it was very early morning, it was still dark, which meant all Emma could make out of this man's face was lips and stubble on his chin. And the mask. How strange for him to wear a mask.

He took the reins to her horse when he reached her and led it away to the stables, never speaking a word to her. Emma stood there until he returned, and when he did, he still didn't say anything. Just used his hand to motion to her to follow him into the castle. He opened the heavy wooden doors, the muscles bunching in his shoulders.

He lead the way through an exquisite foyer and on through equally charming corridors. And then up some stairs. He led her to the very top floor and into a tower of sorts.

It was a bedchamber. Not a very nice one. In the corner there was a straw mattress, with urine spots and straw sticking out. There was a chamber pot in the other corner and nothing else in the room.

He closed the door behind them turned to face her. "Would I be right in assuming that decrepit old man is your father?"

Emma was offended on her father's behalf, but she thought it wise to keep it to herself, "Yes."

"How considerate of him. A young female is definitely worth more than a weak old man." He sneered beneath his mask.

"No, you don't understand. My father doesn't know I came. He was going to come back, but I came here while he was sleeping."

The sneer stayed in place on his face. "How very thoughtful. Give up your life, when you have all of it ahead of you, to save your old man of a father, who probably wont last the winter anyway."

Emma didn't like the tone he used when speaking of her father. She didn't like what he said either, but she knew it was more or less true. "Listen here sir, you don't know a thing about my father, or about me, so you just keep your nasty thoughts to yourself. I'm here to save my father's life, because I love him. Something you must know nothing of. If you're going to kill me, then fine, do it, I won't try to stop you." She said all of this with a courage she didn't really feel.

That sneer never faltered. "Fine. I'm not going to kill you. That would be a waste. Instead, you will be a maid in my home."

Emma didn't like the thought of being his maid, but it was better than dying. "So, are you going to keep me in this tower?"

"No, this is just for tonight. Believe it or not, other than my chambers, this is the most livable room here." He was still sneering, but he seemed more agreeable now. "What is your name?"

"What's your name?"

"I believe I asked you first."

"I don't care, I'm not telling you my name until you tell me yours." She could be stubborn. And she wasn't always the nice person everyone saw.

The man sighed. "Fine, my name is Burke."

Emma stuck her hand out. "Mine is Emma. Pleased to meet you, though the circumstances could be better."

Burke shook her hand. And turned to leave the room. "I'll see you in the morning."

He closed the door behind him, and she heard a lock slide into place.

This wasn't exactly the way she pictured the rest of her life. Prisoner in this man's castle, forced to clean up after him, make his bed, cook his food. Definitely not what she planned to do with her life. But now she had no choice.

She didn't resent her father for getting her into this situation. She could never resent him. It wasn't his fault anyway.

She flipped over the mattress. There were less urine spots on this side. She tried to position her body on the mattress to avoid as many spots as he could. The end result was one of her legs hanging off the side, one arm bent awkwardly, and her back curved to the right.

Just because she was miserable, and her situation was more miserable, she let a few tears escape. But that was it, she was done.

She tried to sleep. And eventually she did.