Les Cygnes
... deception reigned supreme.
You see, I hate my stepmother, and I have always hated her. I have never needed a mother, nor did I want one. The way she tore our beautiful family apart did not speak strongly in her favour.
On the other hand, I have to –grudgingly- admit that without her I would not be who I am today. And while my ending is not the happiest, or the most satisfying, it serves to please me.
Well. At least my life was not dull.
She used magic to ensnare my father- who otherwise would have, I’m sure, gone for my wet nurse.
She was beautiful. My stepmother, that is. She had ebony locks much like my own, and stunning indigo eyes set in her pale skin. She always wore dark colours, even on her wedding day, and she stained her lips with black.
We were not allowed to the celebration after the marriage ceremony. We were locked in the playroom and given bread and water instead of the cakes and fine tea we were accustomed to.
She said she didn’t want us to spoil her day, or to eat all of the good food meant for the invited guests.
She told us that we were children, and so we weren’t invited, like servants weren’t invited. We had to be at the ceremony, but only out of necessity, not because we were wanted there.
It was that exact moment when I realised she was trouble.
She wasted no time in rearranging the order of the castle.
She started small, suggesting that it wasn’t proper for a king to eat with his young children, but instead that adults should eat together. We would stay in our playroom.
Then she stopped our father coming to visit us up there. A king should be ruling is country, we had servants whose job it was to look after us. So our father stopped spending time in the playroom.
But then she got rid of our servants. Nurse was simply thrown out of the castle, although she was given another placement.
Anya, my poor, beautiful ex-wet nurse, who was so completely in love with my father, who was so dedicated to his children, who should have married him, was put on trial for treason against the crown.
My stepmother gave the evidence against her.
She was found guilty immediately, and she was beheaded the very next day. I did not even get to say goodbye.
My stepmother was jealous, of course. She wanted my father completely to herself, without thoughts of his children or a woman he could truly love breaking the spell she had him under.
Her plan worked. He forgot all about us.
No. No, he didn’t. I just like to pretend that, because it is easier for me to believe. He didn’t forget us. He grew to hate us. My stepmother would whisper poison into his ear and blacken his heart, till he could not bear even to look at us.
It was around then that we found ourselves pushed out of the castles good books. Around then that cook was forbidden to give us those sweet and sticky cinnamon swirls that I loved so much.
But I could stand the rejection because I was not alone.
I still had my brothers.
On the other hand, I have to –grudgingly- admit that without her I would not be who I am today. And while my ending is not the happiest, or the most satisfying, it serves to please me.
Well. At least my life was not dull.
She used magic to ensnare my father- who otherwise would have, I’m sure, gone for my wet nurse.
She was beautiful. My stepmother, that is. She had ebony locks much like my own, and stunning indigo eyes set in her pale skin. She always wore dark colours, even on her wedding day, and she stained her lips with black.
We were not allowed to the celebration after the marriage ceremony. We were locked in the playroom and given bread and water instead of the cakes and fine tea we were accustomed to.
She said she didn’t want us to spoil her day, or to eat all of the good food meant for the invited guests.
She told us that we were children, and so we weren’t invited, like servants weren’t invited. We had to be at the ceremony, but only out of necessity, not because we were wanted there.
It was that exact moment when I realised she was trouble.
She wasted no time in rearranging the order of the castle.
She started small, suggesting that it wasn’t proper for a king to eat with his young children, but instead that adults should eat together. We would stay in our playroom.
Then she stopped our father coming to visit us up there. A king should be ruling is country, we had servants whose job it was to look after us. So our father stopped spending time in the playroom.
But then she got rid of our servants. Nurse was simply thrown out of the castle, although she was given another placement.
Anya, my poor, beautiful ex-wet nurse, who was so completely in love with my father, who was so dedicated to his children, who should have married him, was put on trial for treason against the crown.
My stepmother gave the evidence against her.
She was found guilty immediately, and she was beheaded the very next day. I did not even get to say goodbye.
My stepmother was jealous, of course. She wanted my father completely to herself, without thoughts of his children or a woman he could truly love breaking the spell she had him under.
Her plan worked. He forgot all about us.
No. No, he didn’t. I just like to pretend that, because it is easier for me to believe. He didn’t forget us. He grew to hate us. My stepmother would whisper poison into his ear and blacken his heart, till he could not bear even to look at us.
It was around then that we found ourselves pushed out of the castles good books. Around then that cook was forbidden to give us those sweet and sticky cinnamon swirls that I loved so much.
But I could stand the rejection because I was not alone.
I still had my brothers.
♠ ♠ ♠
Thanks to landslide; for her reassurance :)