Part 2
Fen and Fern
“Your concern over the Lyra situation is unfounded; yes, her movement is limited and her education is tightly controlled, but she lives in a gilded cage crafted by the misdeeds of Micah Lavoric. In truth, the girl should count herself among the fortunate that she still draws breath.
-From the Desk of Lady Carola Jenwise, Duchess of Klocby
“Wake up, dear Lyra,” Sheena’s soft voice floated into my ears from far away as I stirred in my bunk. My eyelids didn’t want to cooperate and my mind kept floating back to into the land of sweet sleep. I laid there, squeezing my eyes shut and trying with great futility to hang on to the waning threads of sleep, even as Sheena playfully tickled my chin. Then, suddenly, my sleepful state was shattered entirely by the sound of Jen screaming.
“Lyra wake up, the dorm is ablaze!” She shrieked, and then proceeded to leap onto my bunk, jumping on my legs and causing me to squeal and shout out in surprise as I fell from to the ground wrapped in a mess of blanket and nightgown.
“Jen!” Sheena shouted as I struggled to free myself from the cocoon of blankets entangling my legs and upper body.
“Oh come now, oughtn’t she know she’s slept long enough?” Jen burst into laughter as I managed to sit up and regain most of my senses. I nearly flew into a panic as I swiveled my head and realized that the dorm was completely devoid of human life.
“Oh no, I overslept!” I scrambled to my feet and then proceeded to trip over the adjacent bunk, saved only by Sheena’s quick movements as she wrapped her hands around my arms and snatched me back to the aisle. “Sheen- First Girl, where is everyone? Why didn’t you wake me up?”
Jen giggled, I gave her a glare of utter contempt and panic.
“There won’t be any work today, Lyra,” Sheena said. “for today, you meet your family. Jen, you will assist the First Preceptor today, make sure that-”
“You think I don’t know how to follow orders?” Jen stuck out her tongue and Sheena gave her a perplexed look.
“Then get ye to it,” She told her. “Come, Lyra, we must prepare.”
I couldn’t help but wonder what she meant by ‘meet your family’, but I followed her nonetheless to an empty shower room adjacent to the backup servant quarters where we’d been duly relocated while the renovations were underway.
“Have you kept up with your moisturizing?” She asked me as we walked briskly to a shower stall and she gestured for me to walk in.
“Yes First Girl,” I said as I pulled my nightgown over my head and laid it on a a nearby bench before stepping into the shower.
“There is no need for service honorifics,” She told me. “Today you are Lyra Rossi, my sister, and I am your older sibling, by law. The culturally correct way to address an older sibling is ‘yes Elder Sister’, if familiarity does not permit otherwise. Finish in the shower, we are short on time.”
Four days had passed since the fateful encounter in the High Lady’s office but even now, as the steam pressured water pumped over my skin, I couldn’t help but flash back on what could be nothing less than a traumatizing event. The look of indifference cast by the High Lady as I kneeled before her desk, the trembling that shook my very marrow.
“I sentence Micah Lavoric to the death of self.” She had said. The death of self. The death of everything I would have or could have been. In the moment, as I’d cried into Sheena’s chest, the concept seemed so alien to me, but day by day I could feel the presence of Micah Lavoric growing weaker. His was the death cry of a mishandled childhood and Lyra was an unintended consequence.
“I sentence Lyra, to live. I sentence her to find her passion, to be a joy among others, to live in the way best befitting to her.”
But these were mere words; Lyra could never find her passion, not like this. Instead, Lyra would have to be content with merely existing. I stepped from the shower and dried myself off just in time for Sheena to approach, carrying a bundle of clothes.
“Miah gave you much,” She nodded as she set the dress and undergarments down on the bench. “You will wear green this day, as green is the primary color in the Rossi family crest.”
“I don’t understand,” I said as she handed me undergarments and urged me to put them on. “Are they…are they coming here?”
“Luckily for us,” She said. “My family, while not of the nobility, is respected enough that you are being allowed off the grounds for the day. My father is a clock maker, my mother works for a respected printer.”
“But if that’s true, then why are you in service?” I wondered if it was the wrong question to ask, but part of my sentence was drowned in a swathe of green fabric as she pulled the dress over my head.
“The Rossi family has a long tradition of working in lower class positions before they move on,” She explained. “to give us perspective. Come now, let’s fit your bodice.”
The bodice was a thick, heavily boned material, practically a corset, and it fit over my dress easily. Sheena tightened and I immediately grunted as the material dug into my shoulders.
“Mind your complaining,” She told me as she turned me around and inspected me, smoothing out the wrinkles and straightening my collar. “You’re going to meet your family, you’ll want to look presentable.”
Meet my family; what a strange concept. Family consisted of my father and sister but each day their faces faded more and more from my mind; soon I would scarcely remember what they looked like. After my dress was secure, Sheena applied my makeup, wiping it off once to re-apply it until she was finally satisfied.
Sheena ordered me to walk alongside her after she’d finished attaching her own bodice and instructing me on how to tighten it for her. Her dress, while similar to mine, was a slightly darker shade of green, and her bodice boasted a white trim. We left the dorm and met with Balthasar, who greeted us in his stiff military fashion just outside a door sealed with a clockwork locking mechanism.
“By the High Lady’s leave,” Balthasar said, looking from me, then back to Sheena. “We have until the sun sets to return.”
“‘Tis only six past six,” Sheena said. “We have time.”
Balthasar nodded and turned a lever; I stood there and watched with disinterest as the clockwork gears creaked and turned, a loud click emanating from the assembly as the locking mechanism released and the door swung outward to reveal a skywalk. Glass on either side, I beheld the city far below as we entered the undercarriage of an airship and took up residence in posh leather seats.
“The ship will dock at the Market Quarter,” Balthasar said as the door closed and the scenery outside began to drift. My stomach lurched a little as the docking clamps released and the dirigible jerked upward just slightly.
“Balthasar,” I said as he crossed the cabin to stand by the window. “May I speak to you privately?”
“You may not,” Sheena said sternly. “Whatever is said will be said openly, I’ll not have my little sister sneaking about, plotting and scheming under the cover of darkness.”
“I’m not scheming!” I argued, garnering a nasty look from Sheena, but it was Balthasar who spoke from his position near the plate glass window.
“Mind your tone, girl,” He said without turning. “and mind your sister, this is a different culture and you’ll have to play by the rules.”
“What do you mean?” I asked him, then realized I might have reconsidered speaking.
“Klocby puts a heavy emphasis on family, my girl,” He smiled half heartedly, folding his hands behind his back. “The older sister holds dominion over the younger, so long as the younger isn’t of majority.”
“And the older sister commands respect,” Sheena added. “You will do as you are told. You are, of course, accustomed to obedience in service, but in that situation there are certain misdeeds you could get away with. This scenario is different.”
“Different?” I frowned as I wondered just what I had gotten myself into. “How?”
“Misdeeds will be met with reprimand, disrespect, with punishment. You are a Klocby citizen and part of a family that recognizes tradition.”
“I see,” I nodded, trying to ignore the twisting in the pit of my stomach. “Balthasar, may I ask a question?”
“Lyra,” Sheena turned in her seat and glared at me. I sighed almost inaudibly.
“Sheena, may I-”
“Lyra!” She rose from her seat, looking down at me with a stern, but not an angry expression.
“Elder sister,” I said. “May I ask Balthasar a question?”
“Regarding what?” She demanded.
“The Stormveil Incident.”
“No,” She sat down and looked at me. “And I’ll hear no more of it.”
“Actually,” Balthasar said, turning from the window. “I will give you an answer, and it’s to be the only one you get. By your leave, Miss Rossi?”
Sheena nodded.
“What happened in the Stormveil is inconsequential in the grand scheme, but I will tell you, my girl, that it changed you. Your memories were fractured upon your return, but most assuredly, you would have noticed subtle changes. Perhaps you felt more of a moral obligation toward your servants, or maybe you developed a distaste for your father’s appetite for war. All of that aside, when I heard that you had chosen to become Lyra, I was able to breathe easy; it was your due, and it was a long time coming. Rest assured, Lyra, you are who wanted to be. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Wait,” I shook my head “What does-”
“Enough!” Sheena cut me off. “You have your answer, and it is the only one you will have, ever! Do you understand?”
“Yes, Elder Sister,” I sighed and slammed myself back into the seat, exhaling and looking at the riveted ceiling of the undercarriage.
“Lyra!” She hissed. “Do. Not! You do not throw yourself back into the seat; you comport yourself as a lady!”
“Look, Sheena,” I rolled my eyes. “If I’d know that you were going to be a bitch about the matter then maybe I wouldn’t have-” I stopped speaking as I noticed Balthasar turning on his heel and walking toward the front of the cabin. He vanished through the sliding door, presumably toward the cockpit. I turned slowly and met Sheena’s gaze; it was cold, but not angry.
“Up,” she pointed past her, toward the empty space beside the aisle, nearest the window. Cautiously, I walked past her and stood just in front of the window; below, steeples and roofs passed by. Sheena rose from her seat and walked behind me, pacing quietly until finally, she spoke. “Backside, or legs?”
“What?”
“Place your hands against the window ledge and lift your skirts.”
“Wait, Sheena-”
Ten or so minutes later, we were disembarking across another steel and glass gangplank. Balthasar walked behind us, and I kept my position beside Sheena, barely.
“You will learn our customs,” She assured me as I walked with a pronounced limp. “you must learn them, and so I will be hard on you. Take it as a learning experience, Lyra. Stand up straight and walk, don’t slump. You are a lady, it is what you wanted to be, so be it.”
Before I could say anything, she unfolded a black cloak and laid it on my shoulders, pulling a deep hood up over my head.
I kept up with her as best I could with my backside practically burning with every single step. We took a lift down from the docking tower; the city becoming larger and larger with every passing floor. As it came to a stop, the lift lurched and the door opened onto huge room that prompted me to back up into the lift as I beheld the swathes of people moving from one place to another. Bright dresses, dull suits, the clapping of cork and leather against the floor. Sheena guided me through the crowd as Balthasar trailed along behind us. A group of small children shot from the crowd; a boy and two girls talking and laughing as they darted between us, brushing my skirts and prompting a look of amusement from Sheena.
The entire affair was strange to me; docking stations in Axock were just that - they were simple spires that played host to five or six docking stations, and the concourse at the bottom was always a white and gray, drab space with droves of people standing silently, waiting for connecting flights. What I saw here was a bright contrast; women in colorful dresses, vendors selling food and souvenirs from carts alongside the edge of the concourse. A scent of hogsmeat cooking over an open flame, the pouring and spraying of soda, the vague scent of alcohol, all floating through the concourse to create a complete picture of commerce. The movement of the people, the noise, all of it was too much. I found myself exhaling and inhaling heavily; I wanted to stop, but Sheena pushed us through the crowed, and moments later, I found myself in the back of a motorcar.
“It was kind of your father to send the car,” Balthasar noted as we sat down. The motor rumbled to life as Sheena gave instructions to the driver. The large-wheeled vehicle began to move through the streets, spoked tires clanking against uneven cobblestone. “Though not nobility, your family certainly enjoys privilege.”
“Here, in Klocby,” She said. “You will come to realize, certainly that the nobility is the ruling class and has no bearing on wealth.”
“Still,” Balthasar mused. “That you chose to enter service rather than move to a more formidable position…”
“So as you might be aware,” Sheena informed him. “The position of First Girl of House Jenwise makes a formidable resume entry.”
“In Axock that would be a death sentence,” Balthasar did his best to avoid laughing, but his attempt transformed into a snort that was quickly terminated as he brought a hand to cover his mouth.
“Are you, okay, Lyra?” She asked me; I looked up in surprise and she cocked her head. “Lyra I care for your well being and if you believe I enjoy tormenting you then you have misunderstood the situation. I expect of you what others will expect of you. You would do well to learn this.”
“Okay,” I nodded weakly, still suffering from the shock of the concourse. “Yes…I…I mean yes Elder Sister.”
I turned to avoid her gaze and leaned my head against the glass of the motorcar, watching the streets go by through a tinted aperture. It was much the same as the dock; people walking, talking, laughing. Vendors selling, children running, shouting. A young boy ran up to the motor car and tapped on the window as we lumbered our way through the street, and Sheena noticed my quick reaction of surprise.
“I will ask again, Lyra,” Sheena said. “Are you quite okay?”
“It’s loud,” I said.
“City life will do that,” She nodded. I expected her to ask if Axock had been any different, but instead she turned and observed the scene outside the window.
“It wasn’t like this in Axock,” I offered apologetically.
“There will be no more talk of Axock,” She said simply without offering further explanation. “Acknowledge me.”
“Yes, Elder Sister.”
The motor car pulled down a brief driveway and stopped at the front door of a house. It wasn’t a palace by any means, but it was fairly large. The exterior featured a concrete patio that stretched across a full third of the house sheltered beneath stone awning supported by six intricately carved pillars. I looked to Sheena nervously as we approached the house but she either failed to notice my apprehension or simply paid no mind to it.
“I have two sisters,” She was telling me suddenly, as if we’d already been engaged in conversation. “They are both older than you, and you will pay them the proper respect. They will expect it, and you will give it, am I understood?”
“Yes, Elder Sister,” I said, still stumbling over the words. Though all of this had happened, I was still having a hard time fully accepting it. The very idea that I was subservient to someone else felt comforting but in many ways it was also appealing and I had to fight everything in my nature to go along with it. But, then again, what choice did I have. If I said no, she would punish me. If I caused a problem, I could face execution. Not for the first time, I found myself wondering why she had chosen to give me her name, to absorb me into her family; it might have been better for both of us if she’d just allowed me to choose my own name. I could try to run, but would I make it outside of the city walls? Ultimately I was stuck at Sheena’s whim, but at least she didn’t seem to bear me any ill will. That was something, at least.
Sheena opened the door and ushered me into the foyer where to my surprise, the entire family stood waiting.
“Mother, father, sisters,” Sheena said, walking in with my hand in hers. “I present to you the newest member of our family, Lyra.”
Comments
It seems that no matter how she turns……
That Lyra is being forced into a more submissive and subservient role. Sheena can profess her care for her all she wants, but she is obviously part and parcel to this whole plan, and the punishment she hands out is obviously intended to enforce the lessons that Lyra is at the bottom of the pile.
I can only wonder where this is headed, and what plan they have for Lyra. We’re it to simply bury her somewhere as a servant, there would be no need for all the subterfuge.
And what is Balthasar’s interest? Why is he so involved?
D. Eden
Dum Vivimus, Vivamus