Not even the rustling leaves and the whistling winds could drown out the rambling and complaints from my sister, Rose, as I led her deeper into the forest. I remained silent as she droned on and on, every breath emitting a new complaint.
“My feet hurt,” she whined.
“We haven’t gone far, Rose,” I reminded her.
She groaned and followed close behind as I pushed aside the thick, snow-tipped brush. Rose didn’t bring gloves, so it was up to me to clear the path. Although Rose was two years older than me, I had recently found myself having to take the role of the older sibling. I was responsible for hunting, wood chopping, tending to our pigs and horses, and many other duties of the sort.
Rose used to be the one to take care of things around the house, claiming it was her job as the older sibling, but she had tired herself out from months of trying to keep us alive after…
Well, it was no use dwelling on it now.
It was high noon, but the sun was still nowhere to be found. The winters in the kingdom of Illea were brutal. Harsh winds, clouded skies, and cold weather were almost guaranteed with each new day.
We only had a few good months of spring - just long enough for the green grass to poke through the icy ground and bright flowers to pop up around our village. The frozen river would melt, too, making it a perfect place for a swim. This was an activity we used to love to do. We always looked forward to the first warm day.
It’s such a vast distinction from the heavy snow set upon us now.
“I could get frostbite, you know?” Rose griped. “Missy Thompson told me that her best friend, Maria, got frostbite on her toes last winter and couldn’t walk for months. Months, Violet. Is that the fate you want to fall upon me?”
“One can only hope,” I muttered under my breath.
Rose swatted me on my shoulder, causing me to chuckle. “When my toes and fingers turn purple and we have to visit Dr. Brenner in the infirmary, you will regret taking me out here.”
Despite her having a fair point, I kept my composure. Dr. Brenner was a putrid old man with little-to-no medical knowledge, but he was still the closest thing the village had to a real doctor. In our village, we learned to take the help when it was offered. “Relax. It’s just a little further. Plus, if you get frostbite, I’d aid you back to health myself before enduring Dr. Brenner’s dreadful droning and lecturing.”
“And for that, I am grateful.” She giggled and quickened her pace, now falling in step next to me. We tended to do this a lot. The bickering began at birth, but we always tended to play it off with a few jokes. We meant well to each other, that I knew, but after all the years by ourselves, it was natural to grow tired of one another after a while.
We leaped over fallen logs and shimmied between tight corners of the snow-blanketed forest until we finally arrived. My heart skipped a beat when I saw it in between the clearing of leaves.
It was just how I had left it: an old, worn-down shed, crafted from the pine wood that littered the forest. It housed a large, arched door and a whimsical circle window. The trees were cleared around it, letting the sky beam down onto it, the green grass poking out of the thawing snow.
Rose peeked from behind my shoulder and gasped.
“It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed. “It’s even better than you described.”
I grinned back at her and motioned to her with my hand. “Come on, you haven’t even seen the inside yet.”
The door creaked open, and a rush of warmth surrounded us. I shrugged the wool coat off my shoulders and draped it along the arm of the couch. I took Rose’s coat too, setting it on top of mine as her wide, crystal-blue eyes scanned the small room in awe.
I knelt, poking around the fire in the small furnace.
“I traveled out here this morning in preparation for your arrival. I know how much you hate the cold,” I told her. I fell onto the light green cushions of the couch.
She wrinkled up her nose playfully. “Awe, so my sweet Violet does have a heart. I knew it was there somewhere deep inside your cold, cold chest.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, hush up and sit down.”
I leaned over, digging in the small crate just to the side of the couch, and pulled out a leather-bound journal as Rose took the spot next to me. I pulled the band away and opened the pages.
“So, this is what you dragged me out here for?” Rose grabbed the journal from my hands and began skimming through the pages. “What is it?”
“It’s Dad’s old journal.” I tried to play it cool with my bland tone. I knew if I appeared too eager she’d shut this down immediately.
Her curious expression flattened slightly at the mention of our father. “Why is it here?”
I reached over and flipped to the bookmarked page, tapping my finger on the paper. “Read here.”
I waited patiently as her eyes scanned each line. I chewed my lips as she read, running over each possibility of how she’d react in my head.
“So, dad… built this place?” she asked, her eyes gazing around her surroundings almost as if she was seeing it in a brand new light.
“Mhm, and guessing from the date here,” I tapped the top of the page where the smeared ink was, “he built this place mere months before his death. He built this because he was hiding from someone. From her.”
Rose sighed and closed her eyes. “Violet.”
I grabbed the journal from her, desperately flipping through the pages. “No, I know, I know. Just look at this, though.”
Rose’s somber eyes didn’t leave mine. “Violet, we’ve talked about this. You can’t keep making up all these theories any more. Our father’s gone. He was killed during a raid on our village. There’s nothing more to the story.”
“Just read these pages, Rose. Please,” I begged her.
She shook her head. “No, Violet. You need to drop it.”
“But mom said-”
Rose’s expression turned cold. “I thought I made it clear to never mention that woman again. She left us right after Dad died without so much as a warning. She’s not our mom. Not anymore.”
“You’re not listening to me, Rose!” I wailed.
Rose leaned over, grabbing both my hands. “I’m the oldest, remember? I make the rules now. So, as the oldest, I say we’re going home.”
Rose’s complaints halted on the walk back home. The cold wind whistling past our ears filled the silence as we trekked back through the forest. After a while, Rose’s steps fell in unison with mine, and her cold fingers slipped into my grasp.
A silent olive branch.
“I’m glad you showed me Dad’s shed,” Rose said.
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter anyway.” My tone matched the cold weather.
“It does. We can go there during the raids. Hideout until it’s safe.”
I sighed, letting the anger seep from my body and puddle onto the floor. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Raids had been happening at random since I could remember. It happened when the Queen suspected there was contraband in the villages—things that spoke negatively against her or her kingdom. Most were tame, our house only slightly out of place when the guards turned to leave. But the one that took Dad… was much different. Piles of possessions—all non-contraband—were set ablaze. Public demonstrations in the town circle happened day after day. Death had surrounded us… consumed us.
One of those included our father.
“It’s good to have another place away from Athea,” Rose spoke again. “Our village is nice, sure, but sometimes it gets to be too much. The looks we get from people… the whispers…” Rose trailed off, her eyes gazing down at the frosted, forest floor. “They act as if we’re a walking funeral. I mean our dad died months ago now, at some point they have to move on, right?”
“Dad was an important part of the village,” I explain. “He practically carved every wooden piece of furniture in a ten-mile radius.” I scoffed, the memories painfully flowing back to the forefront of my mind. “His hammer and nails essentially hold the village together.”
Rose laughed at this, but her smile quickly faded into a frown. “I wish he was here.”
I gazed up at the tips of the trees, blinking back any possibilities of tears. “Me too.”
The sun had just begun to fall behind the trees when we arrived back at our small cottage nestled in the forest. It was right on the outskirts of the village, only a five-minute walk from the main market square. Our father had built the house just a month after I was born. Rose was only four at the time, but that didn’t stop her from listing her demands about how she wanted the house to look.
She wanted a light green cottage with light blue shutters. The door had to be rounded and match the shutters. Her biggest demand, though, was one my father couldn’t accomplish: her own room. This, of course, made little Rose very upset when she discovered my sleeping infant body in the crib against the wall of her space.
Rose kicked the post of the stairs to knock the snow from her boots. Just before I could join her, my eye caught a glimpse of something on the door.
A small, emerald envelope was nailed to it. Ignoring the snow on my boots, I climbed the steps and pulled it free. Chips of the blue paint flaked away and floated into the snow. I didn’t even have to read whom it had come from. Only one person in the kingdom sent letters in their signature green envelope and gold wax seal.
The Queen.
My heart jumped in anticipation and confusion. What could the Queen possibly want from us? We had never gotten a letter, not since our father had passed. Those letters we were never even allowed to read. Our father would whisk them away and hide in his room as he read them. When any of us questioned it, even our mother, he’d brush it off and carefully steer the conversation away from it.
“What is it?” Rose called from behind me.
I held the envelope out to her, her eyes going as wide as my own.
“It’s from the Queen,” I told her breathlessly.
Rose plucked the envelope from my hands and tore it open. Unfolding the letter, our anxious eyes began scanning the large cursive.
My heart sank as I looked up at Rose.
Rose placed a hand over her mouth. “I’m to be summoned in front of the Queen. For a… sentencing?”
“What did you do, Rose?” I demanded.
She peered down at me with a concerned, frightened expression.
“What did you do?” I repeated.
I was met with a haunting silence.