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I awoke from the sort of nightmare that is so terrifying, so horrible it is a relief to be alive. But it was strange to open my eyes nevertheless. I had a funny thought that my now forgotten nightmare had held me prisoner in another world from which I’d only just escaped.
I bolted upright amidst a sprinkling of dried brown leaves. Above me was the vast expanse of a towering oak tree, its yellowing leaves still clinging to damp branches as the giant mass vanished in soft fog. The air was crisp and cool, my limbs felt chilled yet my lips were warm. I moved to touch them and noticed a large pink butterfly perched on my wrist.
“And having kissed the Sleeping Beauty, did they live happily ever after?”
I gasped and whirled to face the intruder’s voice. The butterfly fluttered off towards the shadowy forest just as startled as I was. My heart hammered in my chest at the sudden intrusion of his voice. Squatting in a patch of dark grass was a peculiar stranger in worn black pants, leather boots, and chainmail beside the dirty legs of a white horse.
“Who are you?” I demanded as my heart thundered in my chest.
“A friend, maybe.” He stood, the sun beaming over his shoulder so that I couldn’t see his face. But he crossed wide around me to sink down onto his knees in the grass at my left. Out of the light, I could see his face again. I was stunned by the sight of his pale angular features; from his big eyes to the long thinly tapered nose and finally his wide mouth with pale wine red lips. The eyes, a cloudless day on the cusp of summer and autumn, were flecked with gold around the pupils like stars in the daytime sky. Coupled with the clipped mane of dark red curls, the contrast was striking and lovely. I’d never seen hair so red—like roses and wine or maple leaves and cinnamon, or blood. I shuddered from a strange sliver of fear and cold. Something about blood made my head swim in confusion but he was reaching toward me and the smell of his wrist swelled around me. Sweat and summer and horses but underneath that was the faint perfume of vanilla. Startled by the unexpected scent, I tensed and he pulled a small yellow leaf from my hair.
“But, who are you?” he asked. “I’ve never seen you before and I know I would remember.”
I glanced at his face again, astonished by his unfamiliar beauty and his odd hair and noticed other things about him that I hadn’t before. Over a shirt of mud-spattered chainmail, he wore a highly polished silver breastplate. A soldier, I thought. His hands were slender with strong fingers and graceful wrists, his legs were well muscled. I blushed as I forced my eyes back to his face and could only stare in a dazed stupor as his lips moved.
“Your name?”
His words hovered around me. The question was simple and yet I had no answer. I felt that I should but there was nothing in my mind.
“Strange place for a nap,” he spoke the words distinctly and slowly as if I were hard of hearing or a fool.
I frowned and touched my hand to my head. Had I been napping? I tried to think back but there was only a thick wall of black before his face and red hair.
“Are you lost?” he asked.
I leaned on my hands as his question echoed against that wall of black. “I think... I fell asleep.”
“Yes...”
I frowned as I tried to recall and suddenly, I remembered—“The apple was blue!” His mouth curved with amusement and I had an odd urge to reach out and touch his curls. “Your hair is different.”
“It is,” he nodded very seriously.
“How?” I blurted unthinkingly. He touched my wrist and turned my arm over to run his finger down the skin. My skin was a deep gold color. I looked at the pale rosy cream of the back of his hand and my arm. I stared at my own hands in wonder. He grinned and reclined on his elbow, tossing his head back in the sunlight with his eyes closed. The curls turned a vivid scarlet.
“You’re not from Lesia, are you?” he asked lazily.
“Lesia.” I repeated the word aloud as though waiting for an answer. Nothing came to me. I turned my attention back to him, mesmerized by the wine red and pale gold strands sparkling in the light. He smiled slowly as though he felt my gaze. I could tell he enjoyed me looking at him.
“If I tell you why my hair is different, will you promise to see me again?”
It amused me to be with him, to listen to him speak and watch his manner. I smiled at him though he couldn’t see it. “And if I don’t want to see you again?”
One jewel blue eye opened to peer at me.
“Why wouldn’t you?” He sounded genuinely affronted, “what’s wrong with me?”
I glanced away from his beauty, out over the meadow beyond the edge of the wood. A wide road cut through the trees and wound on towards a magnificent white stone castle with many towers and turrets.
“Have you come for the Festival? You must be going to the feast.” He said, “you obviously don’t know who I am, nor I you, but I would very much enjoy seeing you tonight.”
I blushed and glanced down at the grass. The white horse, grazing near the roots of a tree beside the road, snorted a derisive whinny. The soldier threw his mount a withering glare.
“Will you be there?” he pressed. Absently, I leaned into the sound of his voice. He was just a man, I told myself, but his voice was unexpected... like the wind, soft and yet overwhelming somehow. “I must know. If I don’t see you I might have to come find you.”
“I don’t know,” I spoke softly, shaking my head to clear it.
“Oh, I see,” he teased. “You have a suitor...or a husband... or possibly a very large, angry father who wouldn’t take kindly to his daughter being pursued?” I laughed out loud and stopped short, surprised at the sound—a musical tinkling that fluttered the leaves in the trees and set the birds singing. He looked dazed as he stared at me and I felt the blood in my cheeks again. “Who are you?”
I smiled gently and tried to think of a name to give, but when I opened my mouth to tell him I had no answer, an uproarious sound startled us both. I spun around and saw five knights in shining armor on white steeds thundering around the curve in the road. Two of their party carried sapphire blue flags with an emblem of a sun and two crossed swords while the other three drove their mounts hard down the road, howling with laughter.
“A suitor, husband, or father then,” he said, his face was pained. I laughed and shook my head.
“I’m waiting for my knight in shining armor to come along,” I said to him as I watched the knights pass us. The soldier had climbed to his feet and removed a polished silver helm from a saddle bag on his horse. He slid it onto his head and turned to me with his arms out, showing off.
“I am a knight,” he said.
“So you are,” I laughed, “but not my own and I think you have to leave.”
He was grinning when he lifted the grate of his helm. “I suppose you don’t want to know about my hair, then?” he asked, his expression mischievous as if I were missing an obvious joke.
“It’s probably some sort of quirk–maybe the same one that gave my skin its color.”
“True enough,” he answered, grinning, “but you wear my kiss, Lady, I am indeed your knight. I’ll find you again.” He had mounted his horse and the stallion reared, kicking its forelegs as the sun glinted off the polished armor. With a jolt, I realized his shining breastplate was shaped for a woman’s breasts. The knight was a woman! A female knight, I marveled. Awestruck, I searched her armor for a symbol–an emblem, a handkerchief, anything that would betray her identity but there was nothing, only the memory of her vivid red hair any indication of who she was. I watched her take off down the road to catch up with her comrades until they were a cloud of dust.
I stood by the side of the road, staring at the distant castle and thinking of her, the red haired she-knight. Absently, I traced lips still warm from her kiss. And having kissed the Sleeping Beauty, she’d said, did they live happily ever after? I wanted to be outraged that she’d dared to take liberties as I slept but she’d waked me from a terrible nightmare. A nightmare I didn’t remember, just like my name. I shuddered at the thought.
“Amia!”
The birds that had been singing in the tree by the road scattered across the sky in a frenzy of feathers and frightened calls. Again came the shout and I turned towards the sound to see a figure running through the fields towards me.
“Amia!” it was a young girl with a glistening pale face under a white cap. Her navy skirts billowed around her legs as she ran towards me. “Praise the Gods, I’ve found you!”
Flabbergasted, I glanced around me. Maybe there was someone else nearby but it was just us now. Her breaths came in quick pants as she bent over at the knees to catch her breath. She straightened up and grabbed for my hands. I pulled back, not wanting to be touched. “Oh, you must come!”
“Are you well?” I asked her.
She frowned at me. “Minda’s looking for you, Mistress Rosen is in a terror.”
“Who?”
“Oh, please, there’s no time to waste!” she said, “I’m so happy I found you. She’s sent all the girls to look, anyone she could round up. We have to get back now.”
“But who are you?” I asked her.
She stopped tugging and shook her head back and forth. “Minda said you wouldn’t know me. I’m Sara, I work in the laundry so we haven’t seen each other before. You have to come back to the castle straight away!”
The castle? I frowned at her as she tugged me forward. “Come quickly, she was desperate to find you!”
“But—wait!” I called after her as she broke into a run.
“Hurry!” she shouted back. “There’s something happening in the gardens and you have to be there.”
“Me?”
“Who else!”
There was no time for talking now, I had to concentrate to catch up to her, to follow her through the tall grass and the meadows, but I was distracted by the riot of color streaking past us. To the east, the forest was a blaze of oranges and yellows and in some places vibrant red. Not quite the same color as the she-knight’s hair but the color itself brought her to mind. I didn’t know her name but she wanted to see me again and I realized I wanted the same thing. I was staring at the trees, tickled by the wet stalks of the tall yellowed grass when Sara ran back to me, grabbed my hand and pulled me along.
The castle loomed larger as we came near until Sara was running around a sharp stone corner and ducked under a half-closed portcullis. The pair of guards standing on either side of the arch shot me open-mouthed stares. I was momentarily perturbed by the looks but Sara was running through the dusty courtyard to a battered wooden door. I followed behind her with my heart racing from exertion and fear. It occurred to me then that I didn’t know where I was going or where I was or who this girl was or even...
I collided with Sara, bouncing off her solid back and hit another person. Skidding on the soft soles of the shoes on my feet, I nearly overturned a large metal basin full of steaming water. Two quick hands snapped on my wrists and held me in place. I stared up into the face in blank confusion.
“There you are, Amia.” The lilt in her voice made some difference in the way she spoke the syllables. The word rang a very dim and distant bell inside that dark place in my mind. It was a hollow echo, familiar and yet...not exactly right. Her hands were warm on my wrists, her violet eyes watering as she stared at me.
“Minda?” I queried. She beamed and nodded at Sara who took off back through the door. I turned after her but Minda, with her rosy face and violet eyes, held me firmly.
“Never mind that,” she pulled me forward and into a galley where three young girls scrubbed large roasting pans in the basin I’d almost upended. I smiled apologetically at them as Minda led me into the main kitchen. I winced as heavy pots and pans clanked and scraped against one another. We dodged helpers and assistants running this way and that while the chefs shouted out orders. She easily navigated the chaos, catching me when my clumsy feet caught on crates of cabbages and turnips and when I knocked over a bag of potatoes sending dozens scattering across the tiled floor, she tugged me hard. We were through the door and into a stairwell before the crashing started. I didn’t even have time to think about the mess that had caused.
“But wait, what’s going on?” I called to her.
She shushed me but slowed her pace and drew me closer. “The butcher hasn’t brought the meat and the Feast is ruined,” she barely spoke above a whisper, “Mistress Rosen is furious.”
“I should think so,” I nodded. She stopped walking and pushed me roughly into a side hall. “Will you please stop pushing—”
“What did you do?” she asked me. “Fall down and hit your head?”
I frowned and thought about it. I touched my forehead gently. “I don’t know.”
“Well, get ahold of your senses!” she snapped in a harsh whisper.
“I don’t understand. Who is Mistress Rosen and what feast?”
“What? You were supposed to deliver her list and the money.”
“I was?” I frowned all the harder, trying to remember.
She threw her arms into the air. “Yes! It was your job to go to the butcher for the feast day order.”
“But... I don’t remember that. Are you certain?”
“Yes, I’m certain!” She hissed, her eyes were ablaze. “What’s the matter with you?”
“I can’t remember,” I told her.
“Can’t remember what—going to Mr. Pinkette’s?”
“Mr. Pinkettes?”
Minda scoffed with a shake of her head and then the color drained from her face. “Oh, there’s nothing to be done about that now. We have to hurry!”
She snatched my hand and we ran down the empty hall, plush carpets giving only just beneath our feet and candlelight flickering off the dark paneled walls. She pushed open a highly polished wooden door, carved in the same manner as the walls. The chamber beyond was all white marble and red carpets trimmed in gold. Here a pair of girls in navy skirts and white caps used delicate feathered rods to sweep the dust from marbles busts and statues. Another pair scrubbed the gleaming floors furiously quick. A group of men and women in brilliant damask colors crisscrossed the expansive floor, it seemed everyone was in a state of panic and Minda pulled me into another empty paneled hall, this time with torches and stone walls, a servants’ passage.
“I knew I should’ve gone with you, blast Sebastian!” she cursed. “Rosen was planning to tar your hide but then I heard about the gardens today and... well, lucky for you, I found you first.”
“Thank you?” I felt I should be grateful but what she said worried me. Serving in the gardens... I must have been a servant, a kitchen maid of some sort. But why would I be tasked with this duty? And why couldn’t I remember the butcher or the kitchen mistress or the girl huffing before me as we climbed a winding staircase. We burst through a door at the top. “But I still don’t—”
A door opened further down the hall and Minda gasped. She dug her nails into my wrist as a trio of loosely robed figures walked down the hall in our direction. She pulled me into a low curtsy, pressed her lips together with her eyes on the carpet beneath our feet. We didn’t move until their footsteps retreated around the corner. She sagged against the wall, clutching her chest.
“Have you lost your senses?” She breathed, “what if that was Master Deric? By the Stars, my heart—scared me half to death! He’d skin us both alive if he caught you speaking in his halls.”
“He would?” I was horrified and amazed to discover this was my home. Again the dizziness crashed over me. Home and Amia. These words fluttered inside me until I swooned but Minda was pulling me to my feet.
“With pleasure, I promise you. Honey, I wish you’d pay more attention. I know you’ve only just started but the rules really are quite simple. I don’t want to see you flogged.” She took me through parts of the castle I didn’t remember, though apparently I should have. It was all new to me, the gilt and the finery—lacquered vases with delicate curls and curves of inlaid gold, filled with heavy blossoms in rich colors; paintings of wintry landscapes. There were others in these halls, men in silver breeches and white hose, navy jackets trimmed in white and white gloves. They were switching out the paintings in the hall, swapping the autumn landscapes for the winter. Flaming forests replaced by frigid white scenes and brown trees, a pale shadow of a mountain range in the distance. “Never speak in the hallways, no matter how quietly. Never run but always move at a rapid pace,” Minda told me.
We sped into another servants’ hall and she turned back to grin at me, “the others are all so envious.”
I was suddenly anxious. Flogged for speaking? It was absurd. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“You can.” We ran to the top of another stair to a heavy wooden door. “It’s an honor and if you do well, they may take you out of the kitchens. You could be a handmaid.”
I blanched. “No, really. I don’t—”
“—have a choice.” I couldn’t protest further, she was knocking on the door. It opened and she pushed me inside. “Here’s Amia, miss.” I spun around and tried to work my strangled tongue.
“Minda, wait! You don’t understand!” She closed the door in my face. I turned around and, not knowing what else to do, dropped in curtsy. After a time, I dared to look up and was mystified by the large silver machinery clanking softly as a hefty woman on the opposite side of the room turned a metal wheel with her portly hand. It looked to be a spindle but it was metal and not wood with rings squeaking softly as they turned. A short girl with heavy blonde braids stood off to the woman’s left with her hands clasped behind her back. Both stared at me silently and I thought I should speak but before I could think of something to say the seamstress raised her hand.
“Another one,” she tsked as she eyed me. “Well, she can’t wear that. Look over there.” She pointed to a lump of white fabric strewn over a chair. At the confused look on my face she said, “your uniform. Put it on quick, Lottie will help you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I turned to reach for the dress and a small hand pressed against the small of my back while another tugged at the ribbon laced up the back of my dress. I looked down and saw my own navy skirts. I was wearing a dark blue dress over a white chemise. It was different from what the other girl, Sara, had worn. It made me wonder if the different servants had varying garments for their jobs.
“I’m Lottie, Mistress Irma’s assistant. Stand still.” Her voice was light and sweet. She tugged hard and the bodice fell away from my torso. She peeled the jacket sleeves from my arms and snatched it away. As I stepped out of the voluminous skirt and dress, someone else whisked it away. Lottie reached for the white dress and held it over my head. “Arms up, please,” she prodded. I stuck my arms above my head as she pulled it down and then she was gone behind me. I nearly lost my balance as she threaded the bodice quickly and tightly with navy ribbon. I frowned but didn’t ask why she dressed me. The air chilled my naked shoulders, but Lottie combed her fingers through my hair, springing the tight curls. She turned me around and tilted my chin up.
“Very nice,” the seamstress said. I scowled at Lottie as she released my face.
“Why this?” She exchanged a glance with Mistress Irma and then smiled kindly at me.
“Never mind, Amia,” Lottie said, “you’d better go. You do know how to get to the gardens, don’t you?”
“Er—”
She tsked. “Go down the hall, take the last door on the right and down those stairs until you reach the bottom. Then turn right, you can’t miss the atrium. Master Deric is waiting for you there. Now hurry!” She pushed me into the hall and closed the door in my face.