Flora Read online

  Oswald hurriedly closed the door behind him, giving only a glance so small as to not squish her in the doorframe had she attempted to escape. Leaving Flora alone once again in her room, now dimly lit, as he shut it. He had no idea that even if she wanted to, she would never make even ten steps with enough speed to get past Oswald.

  She was frozen to the spot, and dread grew inside her as she wondered if that seemed odder than trying not to escape through her cage door. Although she had seen the piece of paper that the young guard had pulled from his sleeve and left behind, Oswald had not. Regardless of attempting her own escape, there was someone trying to get to her.

  Flora hobbled over to the letter, scooping it off the floor and began unfolding it, feeling sure it would be from her brothers. How they had done it, she had no idea. They must have better guards then Oswald she thought. Though when Flora held the letter up to the candle and saw the scrawl of letters, she had to grip the letter tightly even though it was now burning her fingertips. There was only one other person that this letter could have been from.

  It read:

  Had no choice. You will be back with me soon.

  Harriet.

  Flora crumpled up the letter and threw it at the wall, biting her tongue to stop from screaming and alerting Oswald. Her fingernails now bit into her hand, but she felt no pain there. All she could feel was her heartbeat as it raged against her ribs.

  The room seemed to grow more faint as she slowly paced along the far side of the wall, her hand pressing against its side, as that piece of paper lay still on the floor on the other side of the room. A creak from the door had Oswald's head peeking in and Flora stopped at the sight of him. Her lungs frozen shut as she held her breath. Her shadow casting over him.

  "It is ...so quiet in here," said Oswald, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  "Want me to sing for you?" Flora said, coughing."Since I'm in your control," she finished with a weak wave of her hand.

  She almost wanted Oswald to come in and see what that control could give him. A broken jaw was what she thought would come from it, given the fists Oswald always clenched. But he squinted his eyes at her, turned the latch on the door to make sure it indeed moved and shut the door behind him again. The latch snapped loud enough to crack the ice coating her heart.

  Her eyes came back to the crumpled paper along the floor, and she knew she could not leave it there for all to see. It would only bring trouble. She walked slowly over to it, counting every step before bending to pick it up. Without standing she started tearing the rough paper into little pieces, pieces that were so small that there was no way that the writing could be put back together. Even if it was Harriet who broke her out of here, at least she would be out. But Oswald did not need to have any idea who was playing games outside her prison cell, or that someone was trying to get in at all.

  The letter looked like no more than a pile of dust when she was done. But still, it seemed to laugh at her as she stared at it's remains while she walked along her cell. Oswald now quiet, was forgotten on the other side of the door.

  She had no idea when Harriet would come. For all she knew it could be years. Harriet liked to taunt like that.

  She stared at the window above her, seeing nothing but a flash of eyes through the window as the night carried on without her. She stepped onto her bed and reached up as high as she could. If she strained she could grab one of the bars along it. Her vision went fully black as the blood left her head, and she waited there, dangling, until her vision cleared.

  She pulled herself up and with the other hand reached along the glass to wipe away the thin pane of dirt, leaving a clear trail that revealed stalks of dead brown grass behind it. Her heart started beating as she released herself from the bars, dropping quietly onto the bed. She pulled off her boot and tapped the heel, coughing to cover the noise as the blade slipped out.

  She climbed back onto the bed with her boot in one hand, aiming the knife on the edge of the toe towards the window, and started gently scraping along the window's bottom edge. She could just reach it without pulling herself any further up. As sediment fell from along its edge, Flora sucked in a breath of relief and continued digging a shallow line along the first one. Maybe she could get out of here sooner than she had hoped.

  Fingers

  A boot tapped her along her bruised ribs. She bolted upright with a gasp, specks of dirt following her momentum to stay clinging in her hair. She reached for the knife she usually kept strapped along her wrist, but the light pressure of a heeled boot sat on her arm holding it to the ground.

  Flicking her eyes wide to follow the booted limb and trails of navy blue gown skywards, she saw Lady Willa. "None of that now," Lady Willa said down to her.

  "You disturbed a lovely dream of me in the flower market," Flora said mumbling, sniffling, and flicking her eyes to the window to see her jacket still hung smushed along the bars, covering the scratches she had made. She had not gotten far into grooving into the windows edge. So far she was sure that her scratches would not even be noticed. She hoped the habit of putting her jacket there would be hidden by the time she had a substantial hole.

  Satisfied and holding back a yawn she eased her wrist out from under the pressure of the women's boot. She propped her head up on her hand, crossing her legs to stay seated on the floor preparing for Lady Willa.

  "I just want one moment of your time," Lady Willa said bending her knees to come down to Flora's level. Her back still as stiff as a board and perfectly vertical. "I'll play nice if you play nice, and if not—" she said in a near whisper as she snapped her fingers ever so slightly.

  The noise echoed along the walls that were so close around them, causing the door to open with a whirl of force before banging against the cell wall. It revealed two large guards in vibrant white and red uniforms with Dawson strung between them. He was still dressed in the blood stained clothes he had been captured in, followed by two other guards and a large man dressed in servants garb.

  The smell of the foul clothes followed them into the room and Lady Willa flinched as it hit her. Flora barely noticed that though. She barely noticed Oswald still standing at the verge of the black pit of the open doorway, as she took in Dawson.

  The legs Dawson wobbled on matched Flora's own as she jumped onto them. They wanted to give way when she saw him alive. Exhilaration forcing any remnants of exhaustion from her as she swayed. His hair had fallen from the tie he had used to keep it back that night. It was flowing around him like a fiery mane, but at least he was still breathing.

  Lady Willa stood up slowly, and straightened before nodding to the men behind Dawson. There was a tussle as the guards moved him around. Dawson fought against their weight, trying to keep Flora insight. However, they had him tightly bound and soon had him upright with his stomach against the wall, arms outstretched.

  Flora was trying to put together her words of joy at seeing him alive, but she stumbled. Her happiness to see him alive was so great that she stood still in wide-eyed amazement on the other side of the cell. Until one guard grasped Dawson's callused pinky finger, snapping it.

  The peel of bone breaking had the hairs on Flora's arms raising. She tried to run to Dawson, whose finger dropped unnaturally along the side of his hand. The skin still perfectly intact, as the rest of his fingers flexed with tension. His body trembled as he clenched his eyes and mouth shut, but Lady Willa pressed a manicured hand against Flora's throbbing chest, holding her back, before she could even move. The room grew cloudy and Flora almost fell into Lady Willa as she absorbed what had happened.

  Flora then realized that the guards still had a hold of her brother. "Now we have the right—motivation," Lady Willa said again, her face blank and every word measured. "Get him out."

  "Dawson!" Flora screamed, her throat scratching. Finally uttering a word as one of the guards dragging Dawson grabbed the door with a free hand to slam it shut behind them. The last thing she had seen was the faint light of her room reflecting in his eyes.<
br />
  "I have some terms, you follow them, Dawson will be safe. You don't follow my terms, and things will happen to Dawson," Lady Willa went on, seemingly oblivious to the raging storm encircling Flora.

  "You are going to regret this," Flora said, her voice shaking. "One day you are going to find your own fingers snapped."

  "Well, I hope that is all that happens," Lady Willa smiled, her eyes lighting up as if she hoped that it did indeed come true. "Do you agree to my terms then?"

  "Of course I do you crazy woman," Flora spat back through the terrible taste of uselessness in her mouth at. Her weak arms swung at Lady Willa, aiming directly for the woman's teeth.

  Lady Willa leaned back, dodging it easily, as she watched Flora's craze coursed through her body. "There is nothing you can do to stop it you know. You have no weapons. You do not have the strength to outmatch them," Lady Willa paused again. "Or the strength to outmatch me. It is not a betrayal to them to play along and keep them safe."

  Flora could hardly look at the women in front of her as the knives still tucked along her body pressed against her nerves like a fresh wound, while she steadied herself. But the movement had been too much and she puked on the floor the little food she had had in her stomach.

  Expectations

  Lady Willa's eyes held Flora's, who glared at her with tight eyes while she contained every inch of heat rumbling within her body, wiping the puke from her lips. She wanted to lash out. To crack Lady Willa's head along the stone, but eventually, Flora had to drop her gaze as Dawson's face reflected in her mind.

  Only Lady Willa's gasp made her aware that the stone was vibrating around her. Flora could still hear the snap of Dawson's bone vibrating through he. She balanced precariously on the ground as she tried to focus. Lady Willa circled her as the tremor slowly petered out, skirting Flora's vomit on the floor. Cockroaches had already started to crawl through it.

  The manservant was still in the room with them. Flora had almost forgotten about him. His muscles threatened to burst out of his shirt as they tensed and he watched her to see what she would do, hands dangling, ready at his sides. He seemed unaware of the earthquake, except to notice the dust that fell onto Lady Willa's skirts.

  Flora stood tall and trembling with her arms braced behind her, fingers biting into her arms, tracking the woman with the corners of her eyes. The large manservant finally relaxed, and stood with crossed arms against the wall in the back of the room. His eyes tracked Lady Willa as his chest rose up and down in calm breaths.

  "We are going to civilize you. We need you to blend into our court and I was unfortunately selected to be your teacher on the matter, and Marcus here will be your partner," said Lady Willa with a wave at the man.

  "How unlucky," said Flora.

  "Give me a curtsy," she demanded.

  "Why should I?" Flora spat out as she stared at the women, every bone shaking with rage in her body. A second tremor shook the room causing dirt to fall from the ceiling.

  The women wrapped her arms around herself as she stared at the roof with skeptical eyes while her brows peeked in interest. "Let us pretend that I am a duke then," she said. "That should be reason enough."

  After a silent moment, Flora dipped her chin and fell into as graceful a curtsy as she could manage through her tremors. However, she was no longer sure if it was her or the world around her.

  Lady Willa was grinning as Flora stood up. "I would be embarrassed to do that in-front of anyone."

  Flora gave her a stony stare. They continued like this for hours. Flora's anger always bubbling under the surface. Lady Willa asked her questions and Flora answered them, while Marcus gauged the ceiling during every rumble, hoping that it was not going to fall on their heads.

  "Do I need to bring your handsome brother back in here?" Lady Willa said crisply when she caught Flora rolling her eyes.

  Flora bit her lip but kept her eyes under control. "Don't you dare," she said, her throat raspy and dry.

  So they continued. They moved through curtsies, dances, and proper footwork, while Marcus played the gracious Nobleman.

  He seemed kind enough, giving her a cautious closed smile, but saying nothing as he followed Lady Willa's orders. With only a touch of Lady Willa's hand, Marcus would stop to listen to her with attentive eyes. He never argued with her or commented back.

  They danced and she broke a sweat, losing what precious water she had in her body. Meanwhile, he stayed smelling as bland as when he walked in. It was as if he would not allow body odor to be present in front of his Lady.

  Flora wanted to hate him, she knew she should, but his stable arms took most of her weight and she wondered if he might have been the only reason she was still standing. Only when Flora's injuries finally tripped her, did Lady Willa scowl, and they moved on.

  Flora's muscles were shaking as she finished. The back of her calves screamed for her to sit down. At least this torture would keep in her shape for when it came time to escape, or so she hoped. Though she felt so faint she absently wondered if escape was even possible. Stopping in front of Flora, Lady Willa's expression was different then it had been before, eyes clear with satisfaction. Lady Willa curtsied shallowly to her, holding the pose until her eyes ticked up to Flora.

  Flora swallowed as she curtsied in return. Holding it until Lady Willa stood.

  "Until next time," Lady Willa said, turning to the door on which Marcus rapped, before it opened from the outside revealing Oswald.

  "Wait," Flora said, her breathing clotted with phlegm. "How will I know if my brother is okay?" She asked.

  Lady Willa looked at her over one shoulder, taking in Flora's face. "That is a good question," she said, pausing. "You are much too pale," she finished, and then they left.

  She laid prostate on the floor not long after. Savouring the coolness that radiated up from the floor. She did not have a single worry about the snakes or cockroaches in her room, even though she had absently thought one may have crawled over her leg. She only focused on the coolness of the floor.

  The door creaked open. Flora was too tired to even lift her head. Her eyelashes fluttered, showing a blurry version of Oswald's face.

  He left the door open behind him. Walking slowly towards her he tipped her head up gently. His other hand popping a cork on a small bottle, easy enough to hide in his sleeve. He turned the vial to his lips taking a slow sip, before putting the vial to Flora's lips.

  She licked at it. Too tired to care. Soon the world was black again.

  She new it had been at least two days until she next opened her eyes. She could tell by the amount of vomit that had disappeared from the floor when she lifted her head gently in a moment of clarity. She was sure cockroaches were crawling through her hair, but she fell asleep again. Whatever Oswald had given her must have had a sleeping effect and she dreamed of cats walking with her across a grassy field.

  She was soon leaning up against the wall, her clothes soaked wet with sweat, but she left them on. She felt so much better she almost found it unbelievable. Her cuts that had once been oozing puss were now scabbed over. She could finally swallow without flinching and it was not long until Lady Willa came back to her door. Back for training.

  Lady Willa came back every day for what felt like weeks, but to Flora's relief, Dawson was never brought back in to be tortured. Though, neither did Lady Willa answer her questions about how he was. Cockroaches had long since eaten all of the puke on the floor, to Flora's relief.

  Her only choice was playing along, bidding her time until something got her out of here. Whether it was her, Harriet, or her brothers, she was starting not to care.

  When she had pulled curtsies till she thought the muscles in her leg would snap the door opened again. Lord Reynald had finally come to visit.

  He shoved Lady Willa aside to look at Flora. Flora could see Marcus's fists clench and unclench at Lord Reynald's treatment of his beloved mistress.

  "She knows how to act her place," Lady Willa said waving a hand at Reyn
ald. "Curtsy in acknowledgement."

  The corner of his lips rose in satisfaction as she dropped her head and performed a perfect curtsy.

  "I wish you luck in convincing the other Nobles that she is one of us. A month is not enough time to get her up to the standards here," said Lady Willa without even looking at him.

  "We shall use the revel at the end of the week to introduce the two of them. As for your concern, I have of course that solved that My Lady," he said kissing Lady Willa's cheek. "Meet my new country cousin, or much distant cousin I should say, Miss Flora Faodail. No one will expect somewhere who lives so far away to have all the curtsies they should."

  No one came the next day and she paced her cell. No food had even been dropped through the door. She waited, pacing her room and scratching at her window as she waited for what would happen next.

  Faodail

  Flora had fallen asleep in the early hours of the morning. She had spent the past nights scratching at the window edge until her fingers ached. When she could no longer keep her eyes open, she hid everything again and nodded off to dream more about cats. She felt groggy and sticky with warmth as she woke up in what was now a bright room. A shadow covered her face where Lord Reynald stood above her.

  "Good morning Cousin," he said with a smile as she rubbed her face. She stared up at him. He was dressed in fine clothes embroidered in silver. She could see Marcus behind him, setting down a tub of water and a sack that was draped over his shoulder.

  "How long have you been there?" Flora asked. "You could have knocked."

  "Your survival skills leave much to be desired. Marcus will help you dress. The clothes are curtsey of Lady Willa, I am sure she would appreciate your thanks. I have other things to attend to," Lord Reynald said, ignoring her question with a tilt of his head. "There are a few hours yet until guests start arriving, but remembering the state you are in, I thought we would start early. Enjoy."