Two Wicked Courts

Chapter 2

The night sky full of branches instead of stars...

Ghostly laughter and spindly fingers with too many knuckles...

Whispers that sounded more like the wind in leaves than words...

Acrid colored smoke and a bitter drink...

...and the disorientation of jerking awake in my own bed, as if I belonged in that recurring dream instead of the bedroom I've shared with Alana since she was born. I always expected to find my feet dirtied and twigs in my hair, to have proof that I had been taken by the Fae during the night, but there was nothing. It was always just a dream and I would always feel the sting of disappointment when I remembered nothing so interesting would happen to me.

At least, not again.

And the sting turned into a sharper, deeper pain when my mother's words came back to me.

My life had suddenly split into two parts; the last remaining days I could pretend nothing had changed, and whatever would come after the solstice. Even after a full night of sleep, I still had no idea how to feel anything but dread for my sudden engagement. I started to feel foolish for agreeing with Alana's plan because I had been tired, emotional, and rash, but her excitement, how she couldn't stop herself from talking about her plans, only prevented me from being able to say I wanted to change my mind.

On the other hand, whenever my mother was able to corner me, I was pestered with plans and orders regarding how the ceremony would go, and what would be expected of me as a wife. She sat me down at the table one evening to explain to me the mechanics, how it may hurt or I might bleed, the earliest signs of pregnancy, as if I didn't know already. Alana had eavesdropped and snickered when I was mercifully excused and escaped into the bedroom.

I tried my best to put it out of my mind completely and busy myself with any chores and errands I could think of; washing dishes, sweeping, mending clothes, feeding the chickens and the goat. Mother had remarked about how helpful I had become and how being a wife would suit me. The comment made me feel ill and I went back to avoiding any thoughts of it, but busying myself had only made the time pass more quickly. Before I realized it, it was Calan Awst and Alana wouldn't let me forget it.

I sat on the edge of my bed and played with the pendant she gave me as she flitted about the room bursting with energy I couldn't seem to muster. Then again, it wasn't her impending marriage that was looming over us. She stopped to admire her reflection in the mirror and smoothed her dress over her hips.

"The dress looks the same as the last three times you tried it on."

Her reflection glared at me. "Quit being bitter. Just because you're in a foul mood doesn't mean you have to ruin my day, especially today."

"Forgive me for not being happy with the current situation."

"Everything isn't about you, Una. You know there's nothing I can do about it. I would like to have fun tonight."

I fell back in bed and let the resounding thump be my only reply. My head turned to watch the dust particles scatter through the air, illuminated by the cascading afternoon light from the window.

"Should I wear my hair up or down?"

"Up," I replied idly. "You have that ribbon that matches your dress."

"Oh, I had forgotten I had that." She laughed lightly and began to rifle through her things. "Are you going to get dressed? I would like to leave soon, before Mother gets the chance to give us better things to do."

"As if she could stop you from attending the festival." I stood and stepped out of my leggings and overshirt, faded and nearly threadbare from use over the years. I gained my height when I was much younger, towering over Alana and the village boys before they caught up to me a few years later. I remember how Alana would worry over me as I moaned from the pain in my legs at night. I had stopped growing after that summer and the clothes had fit me ever since. I tossed them into the basket beside my bed to be washed out of habit and faltered when I wondered if I would have another chance to do something as mundane as laundry before my wedding, at least here, or if I'd ever get to enjoy our west-facing window and how the sunlight slanted through it as it began to set every evening.