Over the next few days, after my rooms have been arranged, I find a study with a full set of scholarly treasures laid out for me. Inks, paper, inkstone and brushes. In one corner, I find a lute sitting nearby coloured needles and threads. Bah. Who wants to sew?
Brushing my fingers across the musical lute strings, I find another corner which contains a sword and bow. A full quiver of arrows catch my eyes and I pull one out to examine, admiring the red dyed feathers. Replacing the arrow, it is a saddle that catches my eyes. It is new. Well made and embroidered at the edges. Pretty.
People peek at me from around corners and from behind curtains. They aren't hiding very well and it looks like I am meant to pretend I don't know what they are doing. Examining the dried painting I did the other day, I frown at the errors in the painting. My skill has gotten rusty. I have tried and retried to repaint it in colour but the original picture I saw in my mind has faded and lost its glow so that when I attempt to transfer it to another sheet of paper, there is no life in the painting.
The sight of the horse saddle inspires me.
With a few quick strokes of my brush, I have a woman riding a horse, looking behind her at a forest of red. Hidden in the red leaves are two figures, obscured by leaves. One carrying a little one on his back. Shuddering a little, I throw the paper aside and paint the horse with the saddle. Empty.
Picking up the saddle, in one hand, I sling the quiver over my shoulder and tuck the bow under my arm. I am looking for the wind in my face and the smooth feeling of an arrow leaving the bow to strike where I have aimed. At the entrance of the room, I pause to look down at my dress. This isn't right. I can't hunt in this dress. Fluttering Blossoms holds out the sports wear clothes I am thinking of and helps me to get changed. I didn't know I had any.
Although I really want to go hunting, I know my body is too weak for that now. I will have to build up the strength. Improve my abilities.
Once I have changed, I leave the saddle aside, stroking it. I pick up the bow and arrows instead and go in search of an archery range. Outside, I find Little Swallow and Deep Waves waiting and beckoning me to follow them. Neither one can stand still. They are bouncing and running and pulling at me.
"Come on," Deep Waves pulls at my sleeve. "Faster, my Lady. The Second Prince has a surprise for you! I can't wait. Come on."
"Slow down," Little Swallow scolds him, shaking a finger in the same manner as her mother. "You know my Lady can't move quickly. We'll get there in the end. What happens if she loses balance and falls? Then we'll be in big trouble."
"Aww," Deep Waters complains but stops tugging me. Shining eyes look up with me and plead. "Just a little bit faster, my Lady? Please?"
I comply by lengthening my strides a bit, resulting in a cheer from both children.
We arrive at a small archery range and my body remembers how to string the bow. It takes some effort though. It is harder than I remember. Pulling the string for practice, I realise that I no longer have the strength to pull the bow. Despite that, I nock the arrow and aim. After a moment's struggle, I put the bow back down and unstring it. The children release an 'ohhh' of disappointment. The people watching me from behind corners slump their shoulders.
Noticing Bright Cheer nearby keeping a closer eye on things, I gesture him over and point at his sword. He hesitates and glances back at where a certain white furred collar is hiding. The sword is passed to me and I examine it closely, tracing the designs on the scabbard. Taking a firm grip, I begin to unsheathe the sword, but the sun's reflection on the reflective surface blinds me. In that moment, I remember the last sword I almost held. A sword that beheaded a spurting body of blood.
Dizziness assails me.
"No, no," I almost throw the sword back to its owner while people whose names I have momentarily forgotten rush out from their hiding places to support me. It takes a little while to get a grip on myself and find my way back to the present moment again. Shaking my head to clear the memory, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Again," I say firmly. I hold my hand out.
Bright Cheer passes me his sword once more and with a shout, I unsheathe it in one move. The sword rings and I close my eyes, feeling people move away to give me space. My feet remember the steps and my arms remember the movements but I have no strength to add to the flow and thrust of the blade. I last one move and fall, feeling too dizzy.
Allowing the sword to be removed from my hand, I unsteadily regain my feet. I look at the sword, feeling a strange bitterness well up in me. I look at the bow and feel the bitterness turn sour. With a scowl, I leave the training ground to follow the scent of horse that is in the air, eventually finding the stables. There are a few horses in the stables and I greet each one, gently blowing at their nostrils in the same way they snort into my face, allowing us to get to know each other.
"This one is yours, my Lady," Sword Song leads a quiet mare from one stall.
She has already been saddled. Just from our greeting, I can tell she is a quiet and gentle little lady. She and I breathe in each other's breath. Resting my forehead against hers for a moment, I can almost hear her encouragement. Trailing my hand over her body, I examine her and sliding a hand down each leg, check each hoof to ensure she has been properly shod and has no stones or injuries. I examine the buckles, making sure they have been done up firmly.
Patting her withers, I grasp hold of the pretty saddle, placing one foot in a stirrup and attempt to swing myself up in the saddle in the old way my body remembers. However the moment one foot leaves the ground, I realise with a spurt of fear that I am lacking the strength to make it all the way up. In that split second, I know I am going to miss and fall to the hard ground in an ungainly manner. Shutting my eyes, I wait for the fall but instead feel strong arms boost me all the way up. In the next moment, I am looking down from the horse's back with strong arms around me and a firm chest supporting my back.
Wiping my eyes, I look out from my high seat, while the mare continues to wait patiently beneath me.
"Don't worry," says that familiar voice that I once almost decided to love. "I'm here. I've got you."
The horse is nudged into a walk by heels that are not mine and another hand holds the horse's reigns. I hold the pommel of the saddle and try to remember the rhythm and balance of riding a horse. I don't pay attention to where we are going, looking up at the free sky above and at the strong arms around me. There was a time, I thought I would wake up everyday with these arms around me. Although I know I shouldn't indulge in these feelings and allow the man behind me to indulge in this fantasy, I can't help myself. The last time I had ridden a horse with him... the last time...
Forget it. I shouldn't remember.
Out of a gate into green fields, the horse is kicked into a canter and then a gallop. We fly across an open field. Laughing. I find myself laughing. And crying. Crying for what was lost and what I am giving up on. Because I can't be the person he wants me to be. I can't be the person I want to be. I want to move on but my heart is still stuck. My will is too weak and my body doesn't always listen to me anymore. It is not able to handle as much as it once did.
At some point, I don't know when, I fall into a satisfying slumber. Supported by those strong arms and that firm chest, I am not afraid. Safe. I can relax here. Nobody will be able to harm me today. Not today. Not right now.
"Gently."
I feel arms lift me down and carry me away. Washed and changed into clean clothes, I roll into a comfortable position and sleep. A deep, sweet, restful sleep. I feel like I haven't had such a good sleep for a long, long time.