Every prince or princess that is sent as a naked slave to the land of Queen Eleanor is eventually returned to their own land and restored to their old rank and status. Therefore I was not overly concerned when I found myself wearing one of my old gowns and walking down the corridors of my old family home.
However there was a certain uneasiness caused by the fact that I could not remember the majority of days that preceded this one. In particular, I could not remember that day that my servitude in a foreign land ended.
I suspected that it could be explained by some sort of brain malady. In my great grandfather's day, when knights came back from the crusades, they often had a failure of memory for many of the days, weeks and even months of their time in that foreign land. Perhaps it is some sort of curse inflicted upon those who set foot in a forbidden place. Or perhaps it is a malady of the brain, inflicted upon those who are not strong enough to bear the trauma that was inflicted upon them.
Perhaps I would speak to my mother when I could have a private moment with her. I imagine we might have a wise man in the kingdom who knows of such things. I am certain that my mother could arrange a meeting with such a man.
I noted; with a certain degree of dissatisfaction; that I was slow and awkward now when forced to walk in clothes. My long skirts brushed across the floor when I walked and I was often obliged to grip my skirts and raise them up so that I would not trip upon them. This was especially true when ascending or descending stairs.
It would seem to me more practical to make skirts considerably shorter. Who decided that these wretched things must be so damnably
long?
Was the purpose of the skirt to hobble all women and to make them travel at a much slower pace than their male counterparts?
In the course of my wanderings, I found my sister, Derica, in one of the smaller greeting halls.
"Odilia," she called out. "Come and sit with me. We have much to discuss."
The greeting hall wasn't used much. It was too small for any large gathering and the table could only seat ten people. I could not fathom why my sister would be idling her time away there, yet it was a matter of very little concern, so I entered the room and sat at the table, in the chair nearest the entrance.
"Derica," I greeted her, "What is it that you wish to discuss with me?"
Her face held a countenance that seemed out of place on her. I had known her my entire life and she had always seemed to be a gentle soul, but now her face held a grim expression, like that of a soldier who's been away at war. She smiled, but it was not a gentle smile. It was akin to the smile of a king just prior to ordering the execution of a spy or a traitor.
"It is no secret that you've been having difficulty readjusting to life at home," my sister began. "I've discussed it with mother at length, and she has finally conceded that I would be the one most able to oversee your transition."
"I appreciate your concern, Sister," I said, somewhat discomforted by the uncharacteristic expression on her face, "however I'm certain that I shall readjust in time. It should be nobody's burden but my own."
"Oh, but, Sister," Derica protested sweetly, "It has already been decided. Mother made it quite clear that the burden is mine and I have already devised a plan for reintegrating you back into our community."
I shook my head in negation, but Derica merely increased the intensity of her smile, as if that were enough to counter my refusal.
Then, when I attempted to speak once more, Derica interrupted me and said, "You yourself told Mother that you were found it awkward to wearing clothes once more and that you felt graceless and blundering attempting to walk in these long skirts. I have arranged for you to live in a section of the castle where you may roam naked without any person making a rude or untoward comment about your lack of clothing."
For several seconds I could not speak, so severe was my shock at hearing Derica's words.
"I never said any such thing to mother."
"You did. I was there when you spoke to her."
"I do not remember saying any such thing."
"You don't?
Memory can be such a
fragile
thing."
Derica's voice sounded soft and gentle when she said it, however her expression never changed. I began to hold suspicions about my sister. Had she somehow violated my memories? Could she even have the ability to do such things? And even if she were capable of removing memories from my head, could she be so cruel? She had once been such a kind and friendly soul.
I stood up and declared, "I must speak with mother! I can put this all to order, if I have her ear for just a few minutes."
But as I attempted to leave, I was blocked. Two of our family's soldiers and three members of the kitchen staff were in the doorway as soon as I opened the doors. They deliberately blocked my path.
"Stand aside," I commanded. "I am your princess!"
The soldiers looked grim faced and were unmoved by my words. And the three women of the kitchen staff put their hands upon me and physically dragged me back towards the table where Derica was seated.
"Derica is also our princess," replied the tallest of the kitchen staff, "And by order of the queen, she now has far more authority in this castle than you! We are following her orders now, and she has ordered us to keep you here in this room!"
I struggled vigorously against the grip of the two smaller kitchen girls and momentarily broke free, however I was only granted my freedom long enough to take two steps forward. Then the other kitchen girl abruptly laid her strong hands upon me and held my wrists in a grip akin to iron. Then with great strength, she rendered me helpless and immobile by wrenching my arms behind me, yet high above my head.
I was forced down to my knees, my shoulders aching from the stress that the kitchen girl was placing upon them.