A letter comes

Two years passed in the village. It was a sleepy place. Everything interesting would float around for a day or two then become eerily calm again. Wild and dark winters would come. People would stop laughing and the streets would fall quiet. Our house a mile or so from the village was ne'er visited in the winter. We would be left alone to our solitude. My aunt would disappear for days on end during those dark nights. I would sit alone by the fire. I came to both enjoy and yet grieve the stillness of winter. The children eventually grew old. There were no more stolen bits and bobs. Only chatter that died down when I approached. By myself for nights on end, I would look out to the night sky, burying my eyes into the black stillness, searching for something that never appeared. My life was repetitive and routine.

Every now and then, If I had saved enough from doing odd jobs in the village I would buy romantic books. I don't know what attracted me to them. My aunt had instilled in me a life of practicality. But after overhearing the local girls talk of wonderful tales, I began to indulge myself. There were stories of dragons, demons and powerful mages. The most popular was the tale of maidens saved from the dark domain of the demon lord by epic heroes.

Perhaps this was why when a local girl was married off it was all the talk in the village. A 'real romance' so they said. In the books they would talk of this love, consuming and righteous. Young girls around our village would through the word around audacious. On the night of the wedding, my aunt returned earlier than usual. She bundled through the doors in her thickest cloak, she sat down by her chair near the fire still engulfed in her thick furs and stuck out her hands. She breathed out heavily and gestured for a blanket. I fetched the blanket then sat aside to continue my knitting.

"Falworths youngest is to leave the village they say", She said. I looked up somewhat curious at her comment. As long as I had known her she had never taken the slightest interest in the comings or goings of the village.

"Yes, so I have heard", I answered tentatively.

"Another one to be married ", She said slowly. "Married quite young. The girl is barely of age".

"They say he is a duke, that is why the Falworths allowed the marriage. A duke of 9000 rupels a year"

"A duke to marry into a dead house. It is not an agreeable marriage for him. And yet these things are sometimes overcome. Though not always", My aunt's long, dark lashes fluttered up. Her dark eyes set on me. Then drifting back to the fire she began to lit her pipe.

The flames crackled and she began again.

"Sometimes it is better not to marry", she hesitated, "Our cousin lets us live on this land, we need only be concerned with filling our bellies and lighting our fires. They do not expect any more than that we keep the land well."

"Do people not also marry for love?"

"Love? To hear you say such a thing!" She scoffed at the notion. I had hardly heard her laugh before but the smile seemed to die when it reached her eyes. She composed herself somewhat reproachfully.

" My parents.." I began, she looked at me sharply. The words caught in my throat and I began to rephrase, "Isn't love something to aspire to?"

"We have a blessed life compared to other women. Love will only pull us down. They use it to encompass their dissatisfaction with lofty and high ideals. I thought you were a clever girl. Rather than to aspire to love, aspire to contentment. The middling is better than the pit and no worse than the peak".

I took a moment to take in her words. My aunt always spoke in such a grandiose fashion.Yet I took the plain meaning of her words. I had found contentment in the lonely nights. The ones who mocked me had been replaced with eager-to-please scullery maids and overzealous apprentices. Everything seemed to keep churning on. Things which seemed exciting, like love and romance were forgotten by the next scandal. And all became quiet by winter. Why chase a shadow of a thing? I had no need to marry, no expectations at all. A fate luckier than most girls of my station.

My aunt seemingly content with what the effect her words had had returned her gaze to the fire. She sat snugly in a bundle of her jet black locks and furs, gently closing her eyes.

"Have you ever been in love, aunt?" I said barely whisper. She did not answer.

By next morning, my aunt was gone again. I knew not where. I went out to the village again to hear the whispers about the Falworth scandal. I was standing adjacent from some well to do ladies. They had seasonally fashionable petticoats. I strayed closer curious to know why they were in town. Under the pretense of looking through the window of the old book store, I drew closer. There were three ladies. The first, in a bouncing fresia cloak spoke clearly:

"...and then seeing my poor cousin in that wretched bridal frock I felt quite relieved I had not invited the Baron. Could you imagine?" She said growing pink in the cheeks. I discerned they were relatives in town for a recent wedding. Doing my utmost to stare forward at the books, I took another step towards them. Almost immediately I recoiled as I felt a foot beneath mine.

I gushed and retreated back. A gentleman who had been beside me turned slowly to face me.

"Forgive me Sir, I did not notice you there" I rambled. And it was strange I thought to myself that I had not noticed him. Although I was not looking, I pondered how I had not noticed his presence at all. It was as though he appeared from nowhere. The gentleman was wearing a smart black suit and hat. He held a peculiar cane with the head of a crow. I tried to look in his eyes to apologise but I could hardly see them. He had thick, black spectacles that concealed his eyes.

"It is no trouble," he said flatly. Patting his suit lightly, he paused and seemed to be appraising me. From his pocket, he gracefully pulled out a handkerchief and presented to me. Not knowing how to respond, I looked to his face again to try to detect his international. His pale face remained rigid and flat in affect. I looked back to the initial embroidered on the edge of the handkerchief. It was the letter M.

I reluctantly took the handkerchief. The material felt heavier than I expected. The texture was thin and wrinkled. It was unlike any handkerchief I had ever felt. It was almost like old skin.

"Charmed to make your acquaintance, I'm sure", He said in a deep low voice. I curtsied as best I could and wondered what had prompted this introduction.

"I make it a point to introduce myself where I may be of service", I recoiled at the way he spoke the words and the creeping sensation as though he could read my mind.

"And what services might they be?" I asked, trying to maintain an air of politeness. From the corner of my eye, I noticed the brightly coloured ladies had drifted off. I felt somewhat annoyed and eager to leave.

"Services of all kinds and any kind"

I refocused upon this strange gentleman.

"I see'. I responded coolly. "Then I thank you Sir. I will consider your service for future".

He tipped his hat to me and bowed. I made haste for the grocer before proceeding home. The day diturbed me somehow. I felt restless in the empty cottage.

It wasn't long before winter came in full bloom. The forest became stark and barren. Field of ice laydown in white sheets as far as the eye could see. My aunt had not returned after that night for sometime.

I was out on a cold, windy night bringing firewood. A dark figure bundled in furs came up by the path. The winds howled and the cottage rattled wildly. My aunt's face appeared like a banshee in the night. She looked drained and battered by the weather.

"I must talk with you at once", She said in a strange, tight voice.

I followed her inside. I began to rekindle the fire and she huffed and heaved into her chair.

Her eyes looked pitch black in the candle lit room. From her coats she pulled out a letter. It was sealed in blue wax with an unfamiliar insignia.

She stuck out her wrist and I took it from her cold, thin fingers.

"It is from our cousin?" I asked. I turned the letter over to see my name. "Addressed to me? But why? I have never met our cousin".

"T'is not his hand", she said breathlessly. " Just open it child", she followed indignantly.

I took a letter opener from above the heath and tore it open. My aunt rose up and snatched it from my hands impatiently. Her eyes scanned the page. Her face seemed to lose colour. She passed it back to me and sank back into her chair.

I read the words slowly. My hands began to tremble as I read. A whisper barely escaped my lips.

"It is from my father," I said questioningly. " He writes that his duchess has died and he wishes for us to become family once more".

My aunt stared deep into the fire. Her fingers pressed against her blue lips. She suddenly arose and snatched the letter from my hands and threw it violently into the flames. I left out an unconscious gasp and stepped towards the hearth.

"Why did you do that?!" I cried out.

"It is a trick!"

"It was marked with an official insignia. How can it be a lie. It must be my father."

"Father? What father? He is no father to you. This is a wicked deceit. Have you no brain at all child?!"

"What can you possibly mean?"

"He has no love for you. He seeks to gain something by this reunion. Do you not see?"

"That may be true. But what have I to lose by at least meeting him?"

"This place we have made.You will lose it all."

"What place do I have? We are not wanted here, merely tolerated. Condemned to live like ghosts."

"And by whose fault did such a wretched existence come to be? You will not find a place there. Is your life here so bad? Is it not better to be content here than risk all by going there?"

And for the first time in my life I knew. As the words passed my lips. I knew what the feeling was which kept me awake in my dull ,lonely nights. The feeling I had choked down since childhood. Everything I had tried to distract myself from with passing interest in fantasy and romance.

"I want to meet him".

"Then you are just as stupid as your mother", My aunt snapped. She flew from her seat in a rage I had never seen before. She slammed the door behind her as she poured out into the night. I stood alone by the warm flames and the dim light. I felt this great anticipation swelling within. I felt excited. For the first time in my life I felt alive. That night, as I lay in bed, I looked into the black abyss behind my eyes, swirls of light danced brightly.