The Humble Queen

Preview

Drip-drop, drip-drop.

Slowly, I opened my eyes as I listened to the soft drops of rain that fell flawlessly from the clouds. I wonder, what would it like to be a rain drop? I suppose that's a silly question to ask.

It was a chilly, wintery morning in early December. Christmas was arriving soon and Daddy had still not come back home from work. It was rather odd, Daddy never worked so hard in December. He always looked forward to Christmas with Grandfather, Grandmother, Mummy and me.

As usual, Mummy and I had travelled to Grandfather's mansion. My grandparents had always hosted the most lovely Christmas parties. Unfortunately, Daddy wasn't here... which was odd. I had never been in this mansion without Daddy. It felt foreign without him.

Bracing the cold, I pushed the heavy covers back and dangled my legs over the edge of the bed. My bare feet made contact with the icy floorboards, sending a violent shiver down my spine. Straightening my posture, I walked to the window and pulled back the long, grey drapes.

Tears from the clouds raced competitively down the glass of the window. Outside, the grass had been drenched in the sad tears. The trees blew recklessly in the breeze too, surely someone would be injured if they stepped foot out there.

My breath condensated on the window pane, it left behind a small patch of fog. Childishly, I lifted my index finger and pushed it to the horrifically cold glass. A tiny smile appeared on my face as I drew a small face. Gradually becoming known to the coldness, I placed my palm against the window. I knew what I was waiting for, and I know that it wouldn't come any time soon.

Daddy didn't show up.

A delicate sigh escaped my thin lips as I rested my cheek upon the window. My grey eyes glanced around the room. I remember watching Daddy paint this room. It was such a contentful time back then. I closed my eyes as I breathed in softly.

I could still remember the raw scent of the dark grey paint. I could still remember Daddy - with paint in his hair, on his face and somehow on his clothes - smiling radiantly down at me as he bunglingly led the large bristles of the brush in a sloppily choreographed dance. The colour of the paint complimented the room well.

Pushed against the right wall was a large bed. It was made of wood which had been painted white; the bedframe was huge. Buried inside the bedframe was the matress. It was a comfortable one, it felt extremely soft and welcoming to the touch. Cotton sheets were spread across the bed, they were a mess as I had only recently awoken.

Abruptly, there was a loud pounding against the white door. Groggily, I stood from where I sat and made my way to the door. Mrs. MaCready was sure to be angry when she saw the muddled state that I was in. I stopped before the door and reached my hand out.

Mrs. MaCready was a simple woman. Abide by her rules; she would be kind. Disobey her; you would meet her wrath. She was a towering lady who had barely any flesh on her bones. She had circular specticles which her beady eyes peirced through. Her long hair was always tightly pulled back into an awfully immaculate bun.

My small hand landed upon the door knob. My wrist twisted to the right, unclicking the door and opening it. Mrs. MaCready - who seemed to be in a rather foul mood - stormed in, her skirts danced around her.
"Why aren't you dressed yet?" she cried, her bony hand grasped my shoulder achingly, "Go, sit." Mrs. MaCready was extremely talented in telling people what to do.

Ponderously, I followed the middle-aged woman as she rummaged through the tall, wooden wardrobe. My eyes stared into the mirror. My reflection was dreadful. All the worrying about Daddy has taken its toll. Dark circles rested beneath eyes and my skin had paled exeedingly. I'd lost a lot of weight, that - too - was extremely clear.

Finally, Mrs. MaCready re-emerged from my closet with a simple, winter-styled dress in her slim hands. Her tough eyes watched me like a hawk. She handed the dress over to me and pointed to the dressing screen.
"Change," she ordered, "quickly." I only inclined my head as I slouched over to the dressing screen.

Standing behind it, I quickly removed my white nightgown and slipped on the dress. The dress was made of cotton. It had long sleeves with fur cuffs. The top was a turtleneck, the skirt was straight, and easy to walk in despite the fact that it reached the floor. It was also a beautiful pale blue, Mummy's favourite colour.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I walked out from behind the dressing screen and made my way back over to the vanity table. I stared into the mirror as Mrs. MaCready began brushing aggressively through my hair. The pain was barely bareable as she raked through the many tangles. Finally, she pulled my golden curls back into a long braid which reached my hip.

"Your Grandfather awaits you in the dining hall," she informed as I stood up, "straighten your posture girl!"
"Thank Mrs. MaCready," I murmured as I straightened my back and left the bedroom.

A/n: Hi everyone! This was a preview of the first chapter for the rewrite of this story. Please tell me down in the comments if you liked it and please suggest some ideas of which you'd like to take place. Thank you!!!