The blackness dissolves into my room that I share with Penelope and Rasha. I look around the room and see Penelope’s chest leisurely moving up and down. Dawn is tripping in the window. I get out of my bed and shuffle to Penelope. I raise my hand to rub the sleepiness out of my eyes. I shake Penelope when I reach her. She reluctantly stirs and awakes in acquiesce. Her high-pitched voice grumbles, “What Lia? It is our day off; we do not have to get up this early.”

My own high-pitched voice responds, “I had a nightmare.”

Penelope sits up and swats stray blonde hairs away from her face. “Well, I can see that Lilith has not gotten you yet. Sit down and tell me what it was about,” she says soothingly. I sit down upon her bed and lay down with my head in her crossed-legged lap. She strokes my hair.

I sigh and start, “I dreamed that I was with my mother and father, but my mother was giving birth to me. My father has golden locks surrounding his facing and bounced whenever he laughed. My mother seemed to be in no pain, even though she was giving birth to me. Her hair was redder than mine was and tied back to give her air. We were all laughing together, like a real family. We were in a room just like this, but with only one bed in the middle of the room, which my mother was lying on.”

“This doesn’t sound like a nightmare,” Penelope encroaches my story.

“I am not done yet. Where was I? Oh yes, my mother was lying on the bed in the middle of the room. My father stopped laughing and left the room. Queen Darya came into the room and looked coldly at my mother. She was more beautiful than she is today. Her hair was an even darker shade of brown; her eyes were a brighter blue than they have been; she also seemed vulnerable, scared, and hateful. My mother stopped laughing and started screaming in pain, but Queen Darya did not do anything except watch my mother suffer. I tried to comfort my mother, but she could not feel me or see me anymore. I started to cry and Queen Darya looked at me with such hate. I backed up into a corner as Rasha entered the room. She looked caring, like always, but a little bit like Queen Darya because she was following Queen Darya’s orders. Then my mother gave the last push and I was born. I was crying as myself and as a newborn baby. Rasha brought the baby over to Queen Darya. Queen Darya took the baby and wrapped her in a warm blanket; the baby stopped crying once she realized she was comforted. Queen Darya said something to Rasha, but I could not hear. Rasha looked deeply sorrowful and then Queen Darya left the room, crying, with the baby cradled in her arms. Then Rasha went over to my mother with a knife…”

“Do not worry about your nightmare, Lia. None of that really happened. Your mother died in childbirth; my mother did not kill her. Do not fret because guess what?”

I sniff the snot and tears mixture back into my stuffy nose. I sit up with eagerness. “What?”

“It is the twenty-third of May. Today is your sixth birthday!”

Thoughts of my nightmare disappear. Today is my birthday, I silently think to myself. “What do I get for my present?” I ask avariciously.

“My mother will be back shortly with it. You were supposed to stay asleep until at least the sun was up. She is helping Queen Darya right now. If I tell you what your gift is, do you promise to act surprised when my mother comes back?”

“I promise. Tie me up by my toes and pluck all of my eyelashes off if I am lying,” I giggle.

Penelope’s voice drops down to a whisper. She cups her hand at the side of her hand and puts it up to my dainty ear. “We got you a…”

My body is being bounced heavily. I peek to see an older Penelope with discontent. My eyes wander around and I see a young and pretty stranger.

“Rasha, I want to help you with Queen Darya,” I whine. I struggle to gaze up to her matronly brown eyes because she is a giant compared to me. She bends down, puts her arms around me, and lifts me up. A gentle kiss touches my cheek. She carries and slowly rocks me over to her bed. Penelope is already fast asleep in her bed. The dehydrated moon peeks around the corner of the window and winks at me. I fear that Lilith will come soon, but then I remember that Rasha already sang a lullaby to ward her off from our dreams and sleeping bodies.

Rasha begins to braid my short red hair. “Lia, honey, you need some sleep. It is too late for you to be helping me with Queen Darya. Besides, what would Penelope do if she woke up and saw that we were both gone? You two need to stay together.”

“But Penelope is going to be four tomorrow.” I make four of my fingers stand up on their own to prove my point. “She is older than me. She can take care of herself. Please let me help you with Queen Darya.”

“Okay, fine. You can come help me with Queen Darya, but then it is right off to bed with you when we come back.”

“Thank you Rasha. I love you.” I stand up on the bed so I am the same height as Rasha and put my short arms around her. She embraces me back and lifts me up again. She stands up, walks over to the door, and opens our tiny door.

My arms are wrapped around her neck tightly, for fear of being dropped. She graciously walks to the grand entrance. I feel her move her weighted feet with every step up the staircases and her hands rub my back tenderly. After she finishes climbing the main staircase and the spiral staircase, she bends down to let me walk on my own. She holds my hand as she turns the elegant gold handles on the door to Queen Darya’s room. She gives a slight push to open and I see Queen Darya sitting quietly in a chair near the marble fireplace. I tug on Rasha’s sleeve and wonder in a whisper, “What are you helping Queen Darya with?”

Rasha turns to me and bends down to my eye level. She smiles and says, “I am going to get her dress off of her and help her get her nightgown on. Maybe she will let you brush her beautiful long hair.”

Rasha continues to hold my hand as we walk over to Queen Darya. The cackling fire dances before us, warming our bodies. Queen Darya stands up when she notices Rasha. She parts her ruby red lips and says, “Hello Rasha. What is…”

I peek open once again. The young and pretty stranger opens the servants’ door and Penelope shoves her body, as well as mine, inside. A tear falls upon my cheek and causes the collected moisture to drip off my nose.

Queen Darya is coming at me with such fury. I beseech, “Penelope, Rasha, help me! Please help me!”

Queen Darya strikes my cheek with a stinging hand. I cry even harder. I try to run out of the corner that she has backed me into, towards the main entrance. I manage push myself away from her striking hands. Just as soon as I think I got away, her hands wrench my reddish brown hair back. I scream in pain and fall backwards. She drags me by my hair back to my room. I raise my arms attempting to pull her grip away; I kick my legs to try to slow down the dragging, to get attention.

“Rasha, Penelope, somebody, anybody just please help me!”

“Stop screaming you ugly little girl! Nobody wants to help you because you are worthless! You deserve to be beaten!” Queen Darya screams to me. I continue to cry, with the realization that nobody loved me enough to care. I am just a nine-year-old orphan that nobody wants; nobody would want to save me from a deserved beating, especially from the Queen of Catríona.

As Queen Darya drags me into the doorway of my room, I see Rasha and Penelope racing to me in the distance and I outstretch my right arm to them; it is too late, though, because Queen Darya slams the door shut. She releases my hair and circles around to my front. Her hair is unkempt and hides her angry face. She bends down and rips the bracelet I received for my sixth birthday off my frail arm. “You do not deserve any jewelry!” she rages.

Queen Darya throws the bracelet across the room, under the dresser Rasha, Penelope, and I share. She storms over to the chipped pitcher on top of the dresser and raises it over her head; then, with all her might, she throws it at my head. She then throws the saucer on which the pitcher was sitting on at my arms. I hear pounding on the door and crashing around my ears. The pitcher hits my head and arms, slicing my skin open, as Queen Darya thrusts the door open.

Penelope rushes over to attend me with a bowl and rag while Rasha assuages Queen Darya by holding her hands from behind and embracing her. Rasha says, “Penelope, tend to Lia’s cuts. I will take Queen Darya to her room to settle down.” She guides the hyperventilating Queen Darya out of the room.

I cry harder once I realize the pain from the cuts all over my face and arms; paralyzed on the floor, the angst of moving my body taking over. Penelope has brought a water-filled bowl and a soft rag to clean the cuts. She dips the rag in the bowl and then applies it to my right forearm. I squeal in pain, but then I stop myself to seem braver for Penelope. She lightens the pressure on my arm and then wraps a white cloth bandage around my forearm. She repeats the cleaning and bandaging on my left arm. She cleans my face, but does not put any bandages on it because I would not be able to see. Still frozen in fear on the floor, Penelope helps me sit up and drink some water. I tell her…

Rasha is looking at me with tear-stained eyes. Penelope is describing something anxiously with her hands, but I cannot understand. The young and pretty stranger dabs my face with a cool rag.

The cobblestone streets of Catríona are glistening from the sun. I take it to be mid-summer from the peddlers selling sweet-smelling strawberries and other summery fruits. Peasants are blissfully drifting in between their shabby houses. Not too far off in the distance, I hear the unmistakable chatter of the market. Rolling green hills frame the rooftops.

In the corner of my eye, I notice a young couple holding each other affectionately. I walk towards them, but they do not notice me. The young man, about eighteen, has golden locks framing his handsome face. His hazel eyes and generous smile compliment his strong stature. By his side is a young woman, also about eighteen. She is considerably shorter than the man, but her chocolate brown hair reaches her waist. She smiles continuously, making herself stunning. Her sapphire eyes pierce my own when she turns and looks through me. The young man is wearing light brown trousers and a filthy work shirt; the young woman is wearing a simply beautiful yellow working dress with a daisy tucked behind her ear.

The man leans over and whispers something in the woman’s ear. The woman’s eyes burst with tears of joy. She turns around and embraces the man while he twirls her around. I approach the two lovers to discover what just happened. The woman speaks after the man sets her feet on the cobblestone. She squeals in delight, “Rian, of course I will marry you! I love you so much. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and nobody else.” She leans over and kisses him hard on the mouth. The man welcomes the kiss with tenderness, but then pulls away.

“I love you too, Darya. We were meant to be together for the rest of our lives. The sun and the moon have given me such blessing to bring you into my life. My life would not be complete without you.” His voice is attractive.

“I wish my mother and sister were still alive. They would be elated to have you a part of the family. My father will prepare us the biggest feast for the wedding and prepare his fattest calf for this news.”

“What are we waiting for? We should go to your father’s house immediately and tell him that you have said, ‘Yes.’” The couple walks holding hands down the street and then into a separate alley. I follow them and then I hear the woman’s harmonious voice speak quickly in excitement, “Father, I have given Rian my hand in marriage and…”

Somebody is at my left side, stroking my hand. Another pair of hands is changing the cool rag on my forehead.

Wedding bells chime and birds chirp. Peach blossoms are softly falling on the ground and guests’ hair. The couple I saw in the village is now in the center of attention. The woman is wearing a pure white gown with a crown of forget-me-nots and a bouquet of lilacs. The man is wearing a clean set of robes. They are holding each other’s hands and smiling at one another. The man behind the couple finishes talking, and then the man starts talking directly to the woman. She begins to tremble with anxiety and bliss. The man continues to talk, leans in, and kisses her. She flings her arms around his neck as the guests cheer.

An older man towards the front of the guests wipes away the single tear on his puffy cheeks. His eyes are slightly red and raw. He stands up, hobbles to the groom with a wooden stick for support, and gives him a great hug and then kisses the bride on the cheek. The newlyweds rush from the crowd to a giant willow tree near the river. The bride sits down next to her new husband and father and her dress spread out into a circle of white.

I pursue the guests over to the tree because I smell the calf roasting with thyme and rosemary; however, not a single person notices me. I grab a morsel of the meat and sit near the newlyweds. The groom leans over and so do I. He whispers in her ear, “Darya, my bride.”

“Yes Rian?” She turns her polished face towards him.

“The king of Catríona is dying.”

“I know of this, but why are you telling me this at our wedding?”

“The dying king of Catríona is my uncle and I am the only heir to the throne. Since we are married now, you will be my queen of Catríona.”

“So we will be the rulers of Catríona?”

“Once he dies, we will be coroneted. No more working in the harsh sun; no more waking up at the first sign of dawn. The sun and the moon have graced my life with everything a man would kill for. I have a beautiful bride, a gracious uncle, and the title of King of Catríona. My life could not be any better than it is today.” I suddenly recognize the bride as young Queen Darya. She really did use to love and feel. She really was beautiful and kind, but what could have caused her to be the way she is today? There really was once a King of Catríona, but I wonder how he died, I ponder. Young Queen Darya’s elated face turns to Rian and says, “I cannot…”

The rag is off my forehead. The young and pretty stranger is startled when Queen Darya erupts into the room with a doctor. She first talks to Rasha and Penelope, but then turns the focus to the young and pretty stranger with disgust.

The younger Queen Darya’s belly is noticeably bigger, as if she will give birth at any given second. She is sitting at the table in front of the marble fireplace drinking an obscure liquid. She is dressed in an extravagant crimson dress trimmed with gold. Rian, now dressed in finer clothes, enters the room and sits at Darya’s side, caressing her hand.

He asks enthusiastically, “Are you ready my sweet Darya?”

“I believe our baby is ready to come into the world.”

“Let me help you move into the bed. I will have Calida and Rasha fetch the midwife.” He motions two servants from the corner of the room to help him aid Darya to the bed. Darya sets down the cup and stands up with the support of Rasha and Rian. I recognize young Rasha; she is about the age of Penelope. The servant Calida disappears from the room, but she seems familiar.

Rian and Rasha slowly guide Queen Darya to the bed. Rasha removes the gown from Queen Darya’s body, only leaving white undergarments. Rian looks away as Rasha changes Queen Darya’s undergarments to her white night gown.

As soon as Rasha finishes, Queen Darya is panting and clenching her fists together. Calida enters the room with a diligent woman at her side; her peppered hair is wound into a bun and wrinkles cover her face. The old woman scurries to Queen Darya with a bowl of water, a rag, and three jars full of herbs. She places the items on the bed.

First, she opens a jar full of aloe and sprinkles a handful into the bowl. Next, she opens the second full of dried wintergreen and drops four pieces into the bowl. Finally, she puts in fresh sunflower petals. Her clear and powerful voice rises above the heavy breathing. She dips the rag into the herbal water. “I give you aloe to provide luck for you during birth, wintergreen to protect the child you are about to bring into this world, and sunflower petals to keep your baby healthy. With the power of the sun and the moon, your highnesses must love this baby as if he or she were the sun and the moon.”

She lays the wet rag on Queen Darya’s forehead and then lifts up the bowl with the mixture. She hands the bowl to Rian and he takes a sip; then she hands the bowl to Rasha and Calida, and they repeat Rian’s sip. Queen Darya moans with pain. The midwife takes the bowl back from Calida and holds the rim to Queen Darya’s lips. She takes the biggest of the sips and grimaces.

Queen Darya’s terrified screams grow louder and louder from the pain of birthing her first child. Rian grips her hand to help lessen her pain. Rasha and Calida help the midwife. She gently tugs the baby out and Queen Darya stops screaming; she sighs heavily, waiting for the results of her first child. The midwife pours the remainder of the herbal water on the baby and dries it off with a larger cloth. After ten long minutes of examining the newborn the midwife declares, “’Gratulations Queen Darya and King Rian! ‘Ya have a healthy baby girl.” The midwife shows off the sleeping infant to her proud parents. “Wat’s ‘er name?”

Queen Darya, outstretching her arms to hold the child, cradles the new bundle of life and calmly replies, “Aniella, after my younger sister.” She puts the little nose of the infant to her lips and kisses it. “I love you more than the sun and the moon. You are…”

The doctor randomly examines my body. His tired frame takes notes and then turns back to the collected group of the young and pretty stranger, Queen Darya, Rasha, and Penelope.

I am in a small, homey cottage. A little girl, in the middle of a coughing fit, lies on the bed in the small room. An older girl smiles amiably and sits by the other girl’s side, reading a story aloud. They both have matching dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes. The younger girl smiles and laughs, but then the laughs turn into coughs.

“I am sorry, Aniella. I did not mean for the story to be funny. I will tell you a fairytale now, so that your dreams will be filled with sweet thoughts,” says the older girl.

“Read the one about the two princesses, but use our names. I have always wanted to be a princess,&rd