Today marks the day before my thirteenth birthday and tomorrow will be the ceremony to determine what circle mage I could potentially become. My loudly thudding heartbeat betrayed the anxious feelings that are currently keeping me awake. Memories of the days leading up to tomorrow swirled chaotically in my mind…
My existence has been nothing but a constant series of disappointments for everyone around me. My father used to say that if I were born a boy, he would not face such scrutiny at the court. He said that a firstborn being a girl is seen as a sign of trouble in a family, and that I should count myself lucky that he lets me live so comfortably. I know he's right because before I was ten my mother would try to keep me from doing too many things outside, and she would occasionally cast sad glances my way.
She was always harshly criticized by my father as well, and sometimes I could hear the maids and servants discussing about whether my father would take in a concubine. Many servants said that ten years without getting pregnant again after my birth was also considered an ill omen. I even heard one person say that it was my existence that made my mother infertile. Luckily for my mom, before my father brought in a concubine, she became pregnant that year, and my brother was born when I was eleven. Slowly my existence faded into the background for my family.
If I was just ignored, I could probably deal with everything else easily. After all, being a ghost who lives comfortably is relatively easy compared to other possible outcomes I could suffer after my brother's birth.
But that's not what fate had in store for me apparently.
It started with occasional comments from the servants and maids about how lucky I was to still be here, or how my brother was a blessing after such troubling times. Early on the comments were subtle enough that you might mistake them for being just unintentionally cruel. But they were said frequently enough to give me pause and make me remember how my mother and father acted before my brother was born. But if everyone is saying the same things, it must be true, right? Why would my parents ignore me like this if it wasn't?
Eventually their words became more hurtful, with direct comments about how inadequate I was, how I was unneeded, unwanted, and undeserving of our family name. "The great Arkesh family weathered a horrible tribulation before the Young Master was born." Or "You should work harder to keep the family from feeling you're a further hinderance to their success." The words that stung more than anyone else's were always spoken by Lizabeth, the maid in charge of my care. She was previously my nursemaid, raising me when my mother couldn't find time to care for me until I was eleven, and then left in charge of everything for me after my brother's birth. I can only assume her disappointment was because I wasn't good enough for my parents, and so her fate was relegated to a forgotten part of our castle along with me. Despite her words hurting me the most, she spent so much time with the useless me, so how could I hate her? I want her to be happy, but because she's stuck serving me her life became more difficult as well.
A year after my brother's birth was when things changed to finally affect the care for me. The maids who oversaw my bath had to use cold water, even if their hands turned red and chapped from doing so. The servants in charge of my meals brought only the most meager scraps. Old and stale bread, small pieces of meat, and cold vegetables. There was never anything moldy or that could make me sick, but it was barely enough to keep me from passing out during the day. Lizabeth told me that they were suffering the same fate as me, that the budget had been reduced for our part of the castle, and that I shouldn't complain because we were still being cared for and everyone was suffering along with me.
The final, and worst part, started about three months ago. Lizabeth began to whip my back for the smallest infractions. She always had a sad expression when she did it, and when I asked her why she told me that it was at the behest of my father.
If I couldn't lift the soup to my mouth without spilling a drop back in the bowl, she would whip me. If I was not awake before she opened my door in the morning, she would whip me. She even changed the times she would wake me to earlier and earlier. Eventually she began having the maid who worked late at night wake me before she was relieved for the day. I was kept awake late studying, facing quizzes until the late hours, and sometimes being asked questions that we hadn't covered. I'm not sure why I have to be whipped, it hurts so much, but other servants tell me that the firstborn Young Ladies of other houses are treated the same, or sometimes even worse. Lizabeth said that even some of the servants were whipped if I made a mistake and my parents heard about it.
Lizabeth told me that she never thought poorly of me like the other servants, that everything she was doing was not just for herself, but to help me. I was told that if I could succeed in impressing my parents with impeccable manners and skill, that even the servants would lead a better life. She must have my best interests at heart, because she keeps encouraging me to do better, for myself as well as for her. Sometimes she would even hold me for a while as I cried after whipping me, helping me recover by using the precious medicine that she'd gotten from the main living quarters. I don't know what I'd do if my care was under someone other than Lizabeth.
I did my best to succeed because I knew that, if I excelled in my studies and my etiquette, I would be rewarded by my parents. I never saw them, but Lizabeth assured me that, even if they were too busy, they would know my efforts when the time came. Just last week I had managed to answer every question she asked without making a mistake, to balance a book on my head for three hours without letting it fall, and to dance for an hour without passing out or even collapsing. She was so proud of me that she said we could take a break for the week. She even managed to sneak me more food over the last week as well! I'm so lucky that she's stayed here with me this long despite how hard it's been on her too.
Tomorrow is the day where I can show my parents how good I am. Tomorrow I can prove to my father that it wasn't a waste to keep me here, feed me, and treat me better than I deserved. Tomorrow, if I prove myself, I might finally earn a place at the dinner table with the family. I'm so nervous and scared. What if I mess up? What if my father sees me make a mistake? What if everyone realizes that I'm bad luck because I'm a firstborn daughter?
I know I need to sleep, but every part of my body feels like it's tingling. I'm glad I've had more food lately, but because I'm not tired from being hungry it's harder to fall asleep. I'm so weird to think that having less food would be a good thing. I should appreciate Lizabeth's kindness more, and not let it go to waste. If I focus on trying to breathe like that book about magic circles taught me, I should be able to sleep.