“Lia, my mother would like to speak to you now,” Penelope calmly states with tears staining her brown eyes. A month has passed since Rasha’s coughing has started and it has taken a turn for the worse. Yuri takes Penelope and holds her tight. Her tears make Yuri’s black hair even darker. The ruby still lies on her neck. I take stand and enter the room where Rasha is lying. It is a familiar room, perhaps from a dream; it looks different though. The windows are shut to keep December’s cold winds and snow out. The curtains framing the windows are an intricate pale lace, provided by Queen Darya. Two nurses are standing at an oak table opposite the bed. The bed, much bigger than the ones in our room, smells of sickness and is tarnished with red. Numerous pillows prop up the feeble Rasha. Her skin has turned as white as the snow relaxing on the windowpane. Her eyelids shelter her big brown eyes. She stirs meekly to cough up blood. I take a seat in the chair next to her bed and gently place my hands atop hers, as if I am scared that I will break her with the slightest touch.

“Rasha, it is Lia here now.”

She coughs up some more blood. I dip a rag in the pitcher on the oak table next to the bed and squeeze out most of the water over the pitcher. I wipe the blood off her face.

Her desiccated lips move to form soft words. “Lia, I want you to know something…”

“You know you can tell me anything, Rasha.”

“But I do not think now is the right time for you to hear it,” she breaths.

“Rasha, you have been the only mother to me. I learned everything I know from you. You have always told me that I am mature for my age.”

“This is different, Lia…” More coughing and blood. I wipe her face tenderly and dip the rag back into the pitcher. I wring out the excessive water.

“Then tell Penelope and she can tell me when I am ready.”

“Right now, I just want to say good-bye and that I am sorry. I do not think I will make it through this, Lia.”

I press my finger softly against her lips. “Do not say that. You will get better. You will live to see your grandchildren. You will be there when I get married, right?” I cannot stop the tears falling from my face.

Before answering, she coughs up blood, but I do not wipe it away. “Lia, you and I both know that this is getting worse. I can only take so much. Let me talk to Penelope one last time.”

“I will get her for you. Good-bye, Rasha. I love you.” I lean in and leave a faint kiss on her snow-cold forehead. I snort the tears and snot back into my nose and wipe away the remaining wetness from my cheeks. I stand up and slowly make my way to the door. Rasha whispers to me, “I am extremely sorry.” I continue to the door.

Just as I reach the door, my hand respites on the cool handle, my eyes close, and my lungs heave. My eyes open and my hand turns the handle and pushes the door outward. To my surprise, the door is being jerked at the same time. I look around the door to see Queen Darya. My mouth opens in shock. Her dark blue, velvet dress covers her with warmth. Her sapphires pierce me with disgust. She yanks the door open, grips my wrist, and shoves me to the ground. Ignoring me on the floor, she enters the room and shuts the door in its frame. Penelope helps me up as I rub my wrist. “Penelope, your mother would like to speak to you after Queen Darya is finished.” Penelope nods and walks with me to sit.

A few terse minutes later, we hear crashing and yelling from within the room. In unison, our heads instantly turn to the door with concern. The door is shoved out with one of the nurses guiding Queen Darya out. She screams, “Rasha, do not die! You are all that I have left! You are my only friend, the only one I can trust! Do not die Rasha!” The nurse and Queen Darya go down the hallway and make a left at the end. Penelope leaps to the door; I follow, and she sighs with relief at the sight of Rasha stirring. She continues to her mother’s bed and the second nurse leaves the room, closing the door and pushing me away from the room.

Yuri and I anxiously wait for Penelope for over an hour. Finally, the door creaks open. Yuri and I look up. Penelope’s shocked face tells me that Rasha told her the secret. Her brown eyes, full of melancholy and pain, are silently crying. Yuri rushes over to her. He guides her to the seats where we have been stationed. He holds her shaking hands and asks her, “Penelope, what happened?”

Her face is now stoic with streams of tears. She slowly speaks. “We talked. She told me a…disturbing secret. When she was done, she said, ‘Penelope, I am not proud of what I have done, but I love you and I hope you can still love me.’ Then I said, ‘Of course I still love you. I will love you forever. You are my mother.’ She took one last look at me with her big, brown eyes. She said, ‘I am sorry.’ I hugged her and then she died, right in my arms.” Yuri takes her trembling body into his strong arms. I sink to floor and rest on Penelope’s knees, sobbing. The three of us shake with sobs because we do not know how else to respond. The only mother I have known has died. The one person who could truly protect me from Queen Darya’s beatings has died. The one person who has loved me unconditionally since my birth has died.

Rasha’s ashen, serene face is just as beautiful as when it was pink and full of life. The golden heart lies dull on her chest. A crown of blue larkspurs covers her limp brown hair and rests on a silk pillow within her coffin. I can no longer see her familiar brown eyes to guide me through this time of difficulty. Her long hands are delicately placed on top her abdomen. Penelope gives one last kiss on her forehead before the coffin is secured. Her dirty blonde hair is halfway pulled back. The ruby on the golden chain stretches to stroke its previous owner for the last time. Yuri places his hands on her shoulders and she leans back into his arms.

We slowly walk out to the ever-flowing waters with the coffin in tow. Four servants, two from the kitchen and two from the garden, bear the sleeping Rasha. The evening’s sky is overcast, making the funeral all the more glum. I stop looking at my feet treading in the snow to the crowd that has gathered to say good-bye. A mass of black is swarmed near the barren tree and flowing river. All are drying their eyes and wait for the seven of us to take our places. The servants gently place Rasha in between the blackness and us. Yuri takes Penelope’s left and I take her right. They take places in front of the blackness; everyone waits for Penelope to speak. At first, her voice trembles, but gradually grows stronger for the mass to hear.

“My mother was a great woman who loved all. She made every single one of us feel special, like somebody cared about us. She went out of her way to serve not only Queen Darya, but all who worked in her palace. She made warm blankets for every single birth, watched the grown babes when mothers were exhausted, and attended every single one of their weddings. All her life, she lived in this palace. Not once did she complain. She took an orphan in as her own, called the child her own daughter, someone I am glad to call my sister. She taught us to stay together, no matter what; to love all, even the stubborn; to treat all kindly, even the cruel. She had unconditional love for all living things. And I know that you all loved her back. I can only attempt to follow her footsteps and that you can learn to love me the way you loved her.” She wipes the steady stream of tears off her face. The collective blackness repeat in unison. “It is now time to push the coffin into the river. Please throw your selected flower into the river.”

The blackness breaks off into individuals that release a single flower and then make the black shape again. Soon, the river is filled with hundreds of flowers. The four servants push Rasha into the flowers. My feet automatically move to the river. I look below the short drop and the river becomes blurred. To focus, I blink slowly and breathe deeply. This is truly the hardest part of my life: letting go, I think to my self. I turn and watch the world around me in slowed motion. Women dabbing a white cloth to their eyes; men comforting wives and children as best as they can; adolescents crying in the arms of fathers and mothers; small children, not sure what to think about the somber environment, solemnly playing amongst themselves. I look down to the emptied river and then to my left to see Penelope mirroring my actions. I raise the single wisteria and let it tumble to the water. In the corner of my eye, Penelope’s orange ranunculus, a rare flower for Catríona in the winter, also tumbles to the water. Yuri must have bribed a neighboring kingdom, for it was Rasha’s favorite flower.

Yuri, Penelope, and I blend in with the blackness as we retire from the cold. The three of us are the last to reach the opening to the servants’ dining hall. As soon as we reach the threshold of orange light, warmth brushes my face and I welcome it fully. The air is filled with chatter; occasional shrieks of laughter from younger children who have collected in a circle by the kitchen doors to get away from the sorrow of the day make the room tolerable. The room is warm and inviting, unlike minutes before near the river. It is full of merriment and goodwill. Penelope takes a seat at the head of the table, Yuri takes the seat to her left, and I take the seat on her right.

Sitting next to me is Maria, the midwife. Her plump face, ridden of the flush color, is rosy with kindness. Tucked behind her ears is a bun of peppered hairs. Her eyes crinkle with delight as she laughs from a joke. Noticing me for the first time, she turns and smiles warmly, revealing two missing teeth.

“Hello there, dearie. Haven’t ‘ya gotten any food yet? ‘Ya need some meat on those bones of ‘yars.” I try to protest, but her round hands move too quickly for me to refuse. In between the rows of people, serving bowls filled with all sorts of comfort food I do not even try to recognize start piling on my plate. The plate returns in front of me. I thank Maria and she begins to ramble on about how she birthed me. I half listen, half push the hearty food around my plate.

“I was there that spring day. ‘Ya was ready to spring out, ‘ya were. ‘Yar mutta was so happy ta see ‘ya bafor she died. Queen Darya was there, too. Da queen asked me to leave, so I did, not wantin’ to make her upset, ‘ya see. When she came up to give ‘ya ta me, she said ‘yar mutta died shorty afta I left. I asked her what ‘yar name was and she said, ‘Rosalia.’ One of da most beautiful names I ever heard, I tell ‘ya. ‘Ya was a perfect lil’ babe, didn’t cry or fuss or nutin’. Perfect lil’ babe ‘ya were…”

I had heard this story many times before, so I stopped listening, letting her think I was still paying attention. She would not notice me. Rasha told me when I was younger that Maria was a gypsy, or at least her ancestors were. All the gypsies live in Meridia now or most of them anyway. Rasha told me that you could always tell who was a gypsy just by their speech. Maria was definitely of gypsy descent. All of the sudden I heard her say something foreign to my ears. I try to think over the remark she just said, but the words spilling out of her mouth cause a wreck in my mind. “Maria, can you repeat what you just said, please.”

“’Bout ma sista?” Her wrinkles twist into confusion.

“Yes, yes, about your sister.”

“Well, bafor she died, she was da midwife here in Catríona. Ma twin sista, ‘ya know. Dat was ‘bout the time Queen Darya was havin’ her babe…”

“Queen Darya had a baby? When?”

“Dat was ‘bout eighteen an’ a haf years ago. ‘Bout spring time. I was a midwife in Meridia then. Don’t know much ‘bout the babe dough. Ma sista said the babe was da most beautiful baby girl. An’ then, an’ then somethin’ happen ta her. Don’t amember wat happen. But Queen Darya was very upset, ‘ya see. Change her foreva, it did.”

The forgotten image crept into my head and started to play.

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.”

“Was the baby’s name Aniella?”

“I tink it was. Anyway, I came here afta ma sista died. An’ then I couldn’t go back ta Meridia. So, I was put ta work here. Then ‘ya was born. Eva since then, I’ve been birthin’ babes here. Looks like dessert is comin’ out now. Oh, an’ it’s ma favorite, banana cream puddin’. Do ‘ya wan some, dearie?”

“No thank-you. I am full.”

“”Ya hardly touched ‘yar dinner dough. ‘Ya sure ‘ya don’t wan some?”

“I will be fine. Thank-you though. I think I am going to bed now.”

“Night dearie. Don’t let those beddy bugs bite ‘ya. Ma sista got bit by one of those one time. Red marks all up ‘er back. Now where’s that banana cream puddin’?” I scoot my chair back a little to leave. Maria goes on chattering with the people on the other side of her. I look at Penelope. She is just staring ahead at her empty plate. I push my chair back under the table and Penelope looks up from her trance.

“Lia, where are you going?”

“I am going to my room. I am tired, but not very hungry. I do not want to be around people right now.”

“That is what I feel like right now. Would you mind if I came along with you?”

“Of course not, Penelope.” I start towards the kitchen door, a short cut to my room. She proceeds to follow me, but pauses when Yuri begins to stand. I pause also, curious to know why she does not want Yuri to come.

“Yuri, I will be fine. I just need to be alone with Lia right now. We need to talk.” Yuri settles his strong frame back into his seat, all the while keeping a watchful eye; he has always been uncomfortable having Penelope out of his sight. Penelope walks to me, nudging me to exit the room.

Pretending as if I had not heard the conversation between them, I ask, “Penelope, what did you tell Yuri? He seemed awfully worried.”

“I just told him that I needed to talk with you in private. We have not had a chance to be alone together since my wedding.” By now, we are in the midst of the eerily vacant kitchen. This is the first time I have seen the kitchen without anybody hurriedly rushing about making various foods. It still smells of all the comfort food present in the dining room, but not as intense. Penelope is so at home with the kitchen, she does not notice the silence.

As soon as we close the kitchen doors, Penelope starts walking faster, as if someone were behind us, following us to our furtive meeting. She rushes to the forgotten familiar of the room we once shared. She pulls me into the room by my wrist and shuts the door behind me. She turns to me, desperate to tell me something. “Lia, I need to tell you something…” Knocking interrupts her. Ignoring the noise, she continues, “It is something very im…” Harsh knocking persists. She realizes she cannot ignore the person at the door. She sighs, turns, and opens the door. At the door stands one of the nurses who attended Rasha while she was sick is standing in her uniform, a crisp white dress, white slippers, a light pink apron, and pulled back hair.

The nurse’s harsh and crisp voice fills the silence that has followed the knocking. “Miss Penelope. Queen Darya wishes to see you.”

“I will be there soon, I just need to…”

The nurse cuts her off. “If you are to follow in your mother’s footsteps, you need to leave right this instance to attend Queen Darya.” She looks Penelope up and down with a critical eye. “Hurry along then. Queen Darya does not like to wait.”

“I am coming.” She turns back to me and says quietly, “I promise I will not be long. Stay here until I get back. I need to tell you…”

“Miss Penelope! We cannot let Queen Darya wait any longer!”

I mouth Penelope to go so she can hurry back to tell me. She leaves, making sure I know she is truly sorry. I plummet to my nostalgic blue and yellow quilt, waiting.

I almost fall into deep and welcoming slumber, but I hear the door creak open. I shoot up in fear, but only to feel sleepy again when I see Penelope’s back closing the door. I let my head fall back into its place in the pillow, keeping one eye open and lazily focused on Penelope. I notice something glittering on her face from the candle. I lift my head up and focus my eyes to find reason for the glittering. I rub the sleepiness out of my eyes and see that the tears on her face cause the glittering. With deep concern, I ask begging, “Penelope, did she beat you? Did she hurt you at all? What happened?”

She sits on her old bed. “I am not hurt physically, Lia. She told me something.” She changes her sorrow into a burst of rage. She stands up and swings her arms around in frustration. “Why does everybody in this palace trust me with their secrets? I cannot listen to any more secrets! I will be sick if I hear any more secrets! Why do they trust me? Of all the people in this palace, why me?” I rush to her side to comfort her. In order for her to hear me over her bursts, I yell in desperation.

“Penelope, tell me these secrets so you will not have to be the only person who bears them! Tell me, Penelope!” She stops her rants at once and sits back down on her bed. I sit across from her on my quilt. We both are calm again.

“That was what I was trying to do before I had to go to Queen Darya.”

“Tell me now.”

Her tears start to pour out uncontrollably. She musters up the courage and blurts out, “Queen Darya wants to kill you.”

“What?” I stand up, trying not to believe what just came out of her mouth. I