Clarrie Shaun

For the past few hours, Zina thought of nothing but her sister Sabi that went missing, the money, her marriage, and her dead Mother. There was no space for the thoughts of her wound bleeding out. However, there was one exception that she thought about…and it was her father who cared less about them had lived alone when she was still growing up at the age of eight. However, she could still remember the racket of his nasty mouth; the booming voice in the spacious hallways was like a bouncing ball echoing. There was no happiness and entertainment in their citadel. It made her wonder if he was her biological father.

Nevertheless, there was a slight advantage –at least her father does not sound like a bull-frog grumbling after the heavy rain. Now, would he care to visit their grave if they died because of the incident? Would he go back home?

At some point, she just wanted to wish that her Mother did not marry her father or for a better world if only God did not make an irresponsible father like him. Either way, even if she were gone, he would not show up; he just wanted Ganotan's money which caused them to go poor quickly. Ganot was a tiny island nation that thundered before her father took the throne. Her father was like heavy manacles wrapped around the little island people's money, and she was fortunate that she did not get a chance to see it. Selfishness and Greed, her deceased Mother had said before. For the family, that was the reason behind what he always said. But they would just let him be, and even if they shared new ideas, the outcome would only look worse because her father would solitarily settle for less. So, the rest of the money goes to him. Notwithstanding her father's wrongdoings, her father did not fill their home with light; even in the early mornings, it was dark and lonely, but not near similar to a prison or a birdcage. It was still home, even if they were with or without a father.

In rare cases, though, she did not like to be reminded about him. It would be great timing if somebody interrupted her in between a recall because sometimes, while thinking about family, she would divert her imagination into sitting down on a swing by the tree, with peaceful surroundings, butterflies flying anywhere. At the same time, the flowers gradually bloom as the morning sun rays freshen them up. She would gladly keep picturing herself doing that, forgetting the main picture of the natural world until she understood why some live with luxurious but deserted families.

That was not the kind of marriage she wanted or deserved, but in the end, because of her ruthless father, her thorned-deceased Mother set her up in a random marriage by using the family gathering as a meet-up. Single flawed match of an unfamiliar person, possibly. The nature of marriage she expected with a stranger would be close to separation after one year of being together. Can she handle it by being inconsiderate by all means?

She sighed, and the wound near her shoulders shortly gave out an aching numbness; she tried to move again and shifted her angle. It was supposed to be the accurate move, but since she had more restlessness, she knew it was off-beam not positioned well in the bed; it was like her body was all around the crook edge in its place. A few minutes later, Zina hushed down her grunts. There was a faint noise of footsteps coming inside the room. She tried to glimpse the side of where the noise was coming from, but she could not even spot a shadow. It was hard for her to keep moving, especially with the profound wounds that she presently triggered again. The weak sound of footsteps gradually became louder and nearer. Until it stopped, her eyes narrowed as she heard her heart beating fast because she now saw a shadow forming on the blanket that covered half of her body. Again, the unknown person was behind the wide headboard of the bed; this time, she hesitated to breathe.

"Princess Zina, it is me. Your hard worker, Clarrie Shaun."

"Clarrie!" Zina loudly said with relief from her speech.

The Gods quickly summoned a reliable aide for her. So delighted to let her maid have an upright intelligence that could annoy her future husband and the upcoming wedding administrators.

Clarrie quickly sat down on the chair that General Julius had used earlier. Her look required to be covered with a scarf, and her eyes were central. Clarrie would not be alive if Zina did not get her out of the 'House of Strivers'; she was the first royal who showed mercy to Clarrie. And before Clarrie left the Strivers' area, she dedicated herself forever and willingly to Zina.

Zina turned her head to have a look at Clarrie.

"Princess, you do not have to move physically."

"Goodness, Clarrie, do you still respect me?"

"I do, Princess. But you do not have to be so hard on yourself to have a look at me."

Zina went still and kept on being silent after.

"Princess? Are you alright?"

"Clarrie, are they any news about my mother and Sabi?"

Zina was trying her best to communicate now with no sad expression than she used to have throughout her undeveloped donkey years as a kid.

"Princess, your Queen mother, died, and your sister Sabi went missing."

Naught, but another stillness arose back.

"Mother must have been hiding something in her room," Zina whispered, and Clarrie scowled.

"Princess, you must not do anything that could harm you."

"Finding out the truth and mother's secrets would not harm me."

"Yes, it will harm you, Princess."

"How so?"

"Your Mother settled to a promise with your father. She told me this before everyone left the castle." Clarrie, through guiltiness, said faintly.