Flash Fiction Spooktacular

Skein, Part One - Sylvaine 8

Skein

Wintry weather never stopped Veronika from playing in the woods, but she was also getting older. She was eighteen, tiny for her age, and still as playful as when she was twelve. It might have a lot to do with the fact that she was an only child and wasn’t exposed to many young people her age. However, everyone couldn’t help but notice that she was becoming a woman.

Veronika was still slim, but everyone could see her womanly curves through her cotton and silk dresses, even if some of them were ashamed to admit they had been looking. They could also see how beautiful she was becoming with her mischievous green eyes, pert nose, and rosebud lips. Her most stunning feature, however, was her long, blond hair. It was soft, smooth, and the color of corn silk. During the wintry months, the strands turned even lighter for some reason although there was nothing magical about Veronika and her family – at least that was what she believed in.

Even though it wasn’t considered proper to have anyone’s hair down those days, she often had her hair loose and flying as she ran in the woods or even when she walked the palace halls. When she turned eighteen, however, her mother put her foot down.

“Veronika, you have to stop this nonsense. Do you see Flora doing that? She’s prim and proper, even though you’re the one who was born into the nobility. Do you want people to think she’s the princess?”

Well, she wasn’t exactly a princess, not technically, anyway. She was, but it was really her father who was the son of a king. She was a duke’s daughter, but it was a high enough position for plenty of expectations. Veronika obeyed her mother, having her hair braided and coiled on top of her head. She even covered it with a bonnet when she had to go for a walk outside.

“Where are you going, my lady?” Flora asked, looking pretty in her simple cotton dress. Her mother was generous to the young maid, who was only two years older than her, but not so much as to overshadow her own child.

“To the woods,” Veronika replied, slightly annoyed. She already knew that it meant Flora would be following her around. She had originally planned going on an adventure on her own. It could just be picking flowers, but it would have been on her own.

The two walked quietly, with Veronika wondering what she could do to make their unplanned expedition more fun.

“You take care of geese, don’t you, Flora?” she asked. Veronika had often wondered why Flora needed to do so. She was well-provided for at the palace. The lady’s maid also got a neat allowance to give her family. The geese caring might have been some sort of strange hobby, then, or was the family expecting Flora would eventually lose her job?

Other thoughts crowded Veronika’s head – of crows and other birds flocking to the castle, some of them eating bloody carcass on the grounds. Even the moat seemed suspiciously crowded with hidden secrets, murkily hiding floating and sinking feathers.

“I do, my lady,” Flora answered, but Veronika noticed the slight hesitation and the way her maid’s lips paled a little. The lip-biting that followed was obviously to cover it up, but it made things so much worse. The young noblewoman grinned at the thought.

“You know what we can do? We can swap clothes. You can be the princess for the day, and I can be the goose girl.”

“The goose girl?” Flora squeaked, but Veronika could see that the other girl was interested. There was a glitter in her eyes, one that she always suspected was there but partly hidden because of her station in life.

“Yes, the goose girl. I would like to be in your place even for one day.”

“In my place? Are you certain, my lady. It’s not something that you may imagine it to be.”

“How bad can it be?”

“Do you really want to know? Do you want to see the full extent of it?” This time, there was an even shrewder look in Flora’s face, but Veronika still wanted her adventure. What would the harm be? Flora was pretty enough to be believable as the princess. She was educated with her when they were children. Therefore, her diction and accent were just right. She could pretend to be the daughter of the Duke of Helm in Gooseberry.

“Yes. Treat me not how my mother treats you, but how other people treat you and your family.”

The mischief grew in Flora’s eyes, but Veronika chose to ignore it. So what if she would be submitted to abuse, if it would only be a few minutes or hours? They would take emma, her horse. This way, the whole thing could look more dramatic and they could reach deeper into the forest.

The two girls exchanged clothes hurriedly. Both of them were blond, but there was no mistaking the beauty of Veronika’s hair. She had to keep it under the bonnet. The two had to pull some of the threads to make it look shabbier than it ever could be. It was mostly a failure, but at least they tried to make the exchange look genuine.

Because they swapped roles, Veronika had to walk beside the horse that carried Flora. At first, she was excited about it. It felt liberating not to be the princess. People greeting them barely looked at her. They all had to look up to Flora, who she felt was enjoying her new role immensely. They met some peasants along the forest path, and they nodded respectful greetings at Flora and completely ignored her. It was as success.

The excitement didn’t last long. As they grew closer to another town, Flora’s behavior changed.

“Get me some water,” she barked.

Veronika was offended and wanted to yell back, but couldn’t. She was wearing Flora’s clothes and was playing a part. People were also watching them curiously. She wanted to do it right.

“ Yes, m’ lady,” she responded meekly, as she reached for the leather wineskin on Gemma’s side.

What she didn’t know then what that it was only the beginning. Flora didn’t stop Gemma from trotting along, even as the sun seemed to be taking a dip, getting closer to the horizon. Veronika noticed the her maid had been urging the mare to move faster. She was a tall girl, but she stumbled a few times trying to catch up. They only stopped when Flora demanded cheese and bread, but that was it.

“Let’s switch back, Flora. I mean it!”

The maid laughed cruelly, making Veronika feel chills go up and down her body. It was real now. This was no longer pretend. Her feet felt sore and bruised from all the walking, and she wouldn’t be surprised if they were bleeding. Her skin was not used to this kind of abuse.

“Let’s return to the castle,” she said, trying not to beg but her voice started taking a high pitch she had never used before. Still, she might be feeling bruised and beaten, but she wouldn’t give Flora the benefit of seeing her in distress. Her father would have to deal with Flora when they were back at the castle.

But it wasn’t meant to be.

The two girls heard horses’ hooves approaching. Veronika realized that they were about to enter another kingdom, and some of these places weren’t exactly friendly. She stiffened, and would have been ready to run, except this time, she would have to wait for Flora’s orders. Her maid had made it clear that she would have to walk instead of take Gemma. Running might also be futile. They were a long way from home and her whole body ached from walking for hours.

“Good day, fair ladies,” a smooth, deep voice greeted them.

Veronika looked up to see a handsome man with hair as dark as midnight watching them. He appeared to be in his mid to late twenties, but he had an air of authority and, well, a crown on his head, that alerted the princess as to who he was.

The princess gave a little curtsy, startling the man with the crown. Flora looked flustered, although she tried to cover it up by being as mean as ever. She gave a little awkward nod, uncertain as to how to behave.

“Good evening, my lady. I’m guessing you are the Princess of Gooseberry, Princess Veronika. You may have met me when you were very young. I am King Corbett of Eastfield.”

Veronika idly thought of how his name meant crows. Fancy meeting a man with such a name while her goose girl of a maid had turned the tables on her.

“Your Majesty, I am pleased to be reacquainted,” Flora said, batting her eyelashes. She wasn’t going for subtlety at all.

“It’s getting dark and we are closer to my kingdom than yours. May I invite you to my castle? But I could swear your hair was a paler blond, Princess Veronika. Pardon me for being so bold.”

“No, Your Majesty. It’s a common mistake. My hair was paler when I was younger, but it had gotten darker as I grew older.”

Veronika let her bonnet slip to reveal a little of her hair. It was her only plea for help, as she hoped that the young king would notice. He looked her way, and her heart thundered. However, he seemed to have not noticed how the pale, shiny hair couldn’t possibly be a peasant’s own. She imagined that she was now dirty and bruised.

“Cesar, take the young maid to your horse.”

Veronika wanted to protest. A noble maiden like her shouldn’t be riding a horse with a man, but she didn’t have a choice. The large man with a pockmarked face hauled her from the ground and placed her on the horse. Then, he swung himself effortlessly behind her. She tried not to shudder. She wouldn’t cry, either. In her heart, she vowed that Flora would pay for everything she had done to make her suffer. It didn’t matter that her suffering had lasted for a few hours so far. Flora had humiliated her today, and she would never forget it.

Despite the princess’s disgust at having to ride a horse with one of the king’s men, Cesar had never taken advantage of her and it made the journey easier. As the castle spires appeared over the tall fir trees, she realized that she might be in even greater danger.

It was already dark when they were ushered into the castle. The two young women dismounted their horses and followed the men to the entrance. A few more men watched from the back, as if making sure they wouldn’t escape. It was bigger than Helm Castle, darker, and seemingly endless. Veronika tried to catch her maid’s attention. Forget about revenge for now. The two of them needed to get out of there. Yes, the king was handsome and the castle opulent, but something told her that neither or only one of them would survive.

“Come with me, Princess Veronika,” the king beckoned, his tone too seductive and worldly for Veronika’s taste. Then, she remembered that he thought it was her maid who was the princess. She gaped at how Flora followed the king, seemingly in a trance. The young maid seemed to float toward the king, and when she was close, he took her in her arms and kissed her full on the mouth.

Veronika gasped. She had never seen such blatant display of passion. If she wasn’t attracted to the king earlier, she was now, however strange that might sound. She trembled at the thought that it could have been her whose lips were being ravished by the king. Flora moaned in response, clinging to the king shamelessly, leaving the princess frustrated, disgusted, and jealous all at the same time.

How could Flora do that while carrying her noble name? The king’s men would think that the Princess of Helm in Gooseberry was nothing more than a harlot. The problem was that she would rather be the harlot in his arms right now.

Veronika had never been kissed. After all, she was a princess – a well-guarded young woman whose future marriage should be some sort of alliance. Flora, on the other hand, seemed to show that she was more experienced.

The king’s men left the scene alone, a man and a woman kissing in front of a throne. It was like the happy ending of a fairy tale, but it didn’t feel like it. It was darker – more passionate and promising of something deadlier.

When Flora’s borrowed dress fell to the marble floor, Veronika whimpered. She backed away from the lewd scene, uncertain how she would escape Eastfield. Perhaps she could find Gemma, ride her and return to Gooseberry to tell her father and mother about Flora’s cruelty and betrayal. She could warn them of the terrible young king so that they would never ever think of allying with him or offering her as his bride.

Then, a voice boomed in the hall, echoing, even as the king inspected Flora’s naked body. The woman’s voice sounded ageless, but the laughter that ensued was like a cackle.

“Corbett, you know that woman is no princess,” laughed the woman, who came into view. She looked ageless, sounding old and young at the same time. “She clung to you like a common whore.”

“I know, Mother. I just want to make sure. This one’s an impostor.”

“N-no. I am not. I’m Princess Veronika of Gooseberry,” Flora protested, even as the king pinched a n****e.

Veronika prepared to escape what could be a death trap. The king and the woman knew that Flora wasn’t the real princess.

“Stop right there,” the woman commanded, seeing her inching toward the entrance. “Beyond that door is certain death. Do you want to risk that, Princess Veronika?’

“I am not a princess. Do you not see what I’m wearing. woman?” I asked.

“An arrogant peasant,” the woman mulled, smiling wickedly while walking toward Veronika. She pulled the bonnet off. “With corn silk hair, so long and lustrous it reaches past her waist. Who could afford to care for hair like that and make it smell like perfume?”

“What do we to liars, peasant girl?” the king asked. Flora was crying in earnest then, but she didn’t have to cry for long. King Corbett broke her neck with his bare hands in one swift motion. Her naked body fell to the floor, lifeless.

“Here’s your real bride, my son. Look at her. So beautiful. You wouldn’t want anyone else to look at her.”

“I agree, Mother. She should be in the tower, hidden from the rest of the world.”

“N-no! Please don’t do this. When my father finds out what you’re doing to me, he would come with his knights and save me. He will kill you all!”

“Oh will he?” the king’s mother asked, mockingly. Then mother and son laughed hysterically.

“An eye for an eye,” the king said. “Your father is a murderer of crows and enslaver of geese.”

“You just murdered the goose girl,” Veronika said. As the three looked down on the heap of the floor, Flora was gone. In place of her was a broken goose. It was becoming clearer to the princess why her maid took care of geese. Some people simply had to take care of their own.

“Does it matter, princess? She was still a liar. If she hadn’t tried to pretend to be you, she would have been banished from my kingdom while you stay with me as my wife and slave.”

“I will not be your wife,” the princess insisted, but to her horror, her body responded to his growing nearness. He was wicked, but beautiful. She licked her lips, seemingly in a trance but she knew better. Her senses were alive and aflame but she wanted him – this murderer and possibly ravisher of women.

“Oh, you know you will be,” he murmured, inhaling her as he let the claw of his index finger trace her skin from nose to lips to chin, and further down. Veronika willed herself to move but she couldn’t, even when the claw made her skin red and went lower into her bodice. She tried to conjure fear, but the desire was stronger. It might be her imagination but the already chilly air became even colder, and the howling wind sounded like warnings, ones that she might not heed at all.