Screaming heralded my death. Hateful confessions poured out of my mother as she raised a bat over my head. I hadn't seen her in over ten years, but she was the last person I'd see before I died. A fate I thought I'd long since escaped descended upon me, and I died inside my worst nightmare.
Images of my life slipped between my fingers like sand. Hours, weeks, years. There wasn't a way to stop the cascade. Yet, my hands remained cupped as I tried to inspect the grains of sand, searching for something: a key, person, or decision that would deliver me to the future I desperately wanted to reach. A future that was so close until it wasn't.
With my hourglass drained empty, time no longer paid me mind. I settled at the bottom of the glass and melted away into the endless dark. I figured, eventually, my soul would disperse into tiny pieces, or my soul would be inherited once it forgot who I was.
Before my soul could forget who I was, before I was ready to let go of the concept of me, time began to trickle back into my hourglass. Images of an unfamiliar little girl living in a world wholly unlike mine flashed by.
What's happening?
______
The crust of a long slumber crumbled as my eyes opened, squinting through the greeting of the midday sun. Windows lined one entire wall of this room; not only could I smell the ocean, I had a full view of a turquoise coastline in the distance.
I must be dreaming. There are two moons.
I was able to take in the room around me as my vision adjusted. The earthen ceiling above my bed's lace canopy was intricately carved and painted to look like a forest canopy. A few oil lamps illuminated the darker corners of my room. A teenage girl was sitting next to me, but she had fallen asleep while leaning on my bed.
Dark auburn ringlets obscured her face, but my tongue instinctively knew her name, "Phoebe?"
The high-pitched voice that peeped out of me wasn't what I expected. I lifted my arms and observed the body responding to my brain's directions.
I'm so small.
"Daphne?" Phoebe's amber eyes widened as she realized my awakening wasn't a dream, and she turned to shout, "Mom, Dad, she's awake!"
Phoebe pulled me into her arms and gently caressed my hair and face; the scent of lavender and honey trailed behind each stroke. Her eyes grew glassy with tears, and she'd begun holding her breath. The heart beating against my cheek slowed from a panicked rumble to a calming lullaby.
"I'm so glad you're okay, Daphne," Phoebe whispered.
Three sets of rapid footsteps approached my door; my sister's handmaid, Astrid, skillfully swung the door open before my company could make any further racket by knocking. Out of breath and out of order, my mother, father, and brother, Theo, had nearly fallen into my room in a pile. The three took a turn to hug me, and with each additional hug, my fists clenched the sheets harder.
Too close.
My mother, Delilah, spent a few moments studying my face, "Everyone, let's give Daphne a little space. Sweetie, are you alright?"
A lump formed in my throat.
I've suddenly remembered so many strange things. How am I, Daphne? Or have I always been Daphne and just… didn't realize it? Then what are those peculiar memories from before? Before?
Tears rose, and a desperate sob escaped me.
Where am I? Who am I?
Delilah slowly cupped my face and leaned her forehead against mine, "Shhh, my sweet. You're safe now. Mommy, Daddy, Phoebe, and Theo are here. We love you very much and were so worried about you."
This can't be real.
________________
When I next awoke, I saw Garth, my father, sitting in the corner of my room while reading a letter by the fireplace. Outside was the same turquoise bay under two moons; above me was the beautifully carved ceiling, and before me was a room full of books, flowers, and toys.
It was real.
"Daffodil, you're awake again."
"Daddy?" I responded without thinking, the term of endearment causing me to blush.
Garth slowly crouched next to my bed and held my hands. His fingers were calloused, contrasting his beautiful, delicate face. Eyes like emeralds carefully scanned my body while his wrist rested against my forehead, "It seems you're all better now, no fever in sight."
I clumsily blurted out, "What happened?"
My father's upbeat gaze faltered, "you don't remember?"
I shook my head.
"Well, let's get some breakfast and talk while we eat."
I was cradled in my father's arms before I could swing my legs over the bed. Tears gathered in my eyes, but I could feign sleepiness well enough to hide it.
What is this feeling?
I gazed through the windows as my father carried me. A lush garden surrounded my home, which appeared to be on a large terrace on the side of a mountain.
The house itself was pretty rustic.
Like the castles from… before.
The dining hall was much grander than the rest of the house. Warm red carpets underlaid three long tables, enough space for 30 people to sit at each. Intricately woven chandeliers lit the room, along with large iron candelabras.
Farmers, soldiers, and families alike were seated at the tables. My mother and siblings sat at the head of the central table and excitedly beckoned my father over.
I shyly buried my face into my father's neck. He smelled like freshly sunned hay.
"How is she?" My mother asked.
"The fever is gone, but," my father glanced around and lowered his voice, "it seems she doesn't remember what happened."
Everyone's smiles briefly dimmed.
Did I make a mistake?
Theo tried to brighten the mood, "Let's talk about it while trying out my newest recipe! It has to stay top-secret for now, anyway. Then, we can avoid any dramatic rumors circulating about Dap-"
Phoebe must've stepped on Theo's foot under the table to stop him from loudly announcing the concern the rest of my family shared.
Why is this being kept a secret? Have they realized something's wrong?
The rest of breakfast was uneventful, but a mounting dread engulfed me as everyone finished eating. I looked around at my family members, trying to determine their intentions, but the entire way to the cellar was spent happily chattering about winter preparations. This didn't seem like a trip to punish me.
Will they leave me down here?
To my surprise, the cellar was well-lit and lined with furs. A bar lined one side of the first room, while the other had shelves. Labeled doors led to specific food storage types.
Theo jingled a ring of keys, "Daphne, you wanna unlock the door for me?"
I shook my head. I didn't believe they'd put me in the room, but I was still afraid.
"That's alright. Your job for today is much more important than helping me find the right key," Theo hummed happily while opening the wooden door, "welcome to my study."
Sconces were already burning in this room, and recipes were scattered on a counter in the center. The shelves were neatly lined with dozens of jars; most of them were savory pickles, but I also eyed a few fruit preserves.
"And now," Theo said theatrically, "my newest creation!"
He confidently placed a glass jar of opaque, brown liquid on the counter.
We stared at him silently.
"Um, sweetheart," my mother searched for the gentlest words, "what… is that?"
Theo flashed a brilliant smile, "I was waiting for that question. We use onions and savory spices in our vegetable pickles. Why not try dessert spices in a fruit preserve? This batch is lightly sweetened with the super honey Phoebs created!"
Phoebe's gaze fell excitedly to the jar. "What is it?"
"Cinnamon-spiced apple butter. Hopefully."
The scent of apple juice and cinnamon filled the tiny room when the jar popped open.
"Okay, sisters, are you ready to test my new product? I could really use your help!"
My sister turned to my dad and gestured to hand me over. Without a second's consideration, I leaned into her arms. Even though she'd undoubtedly held me many times, Phoebe happily nuzzled into my hair and kissed my forehead.
Theo handed us a spoon, "Phoebs, Daphne, try it!"
The warmth of cinnamon wafted into my nose, and an apple tartness followed right after. I couldn't help but smile at the familiar food and didn't realize my gaze was fixated on the jar.
Theo gave me a self-satisfied grin, "You can have two." - Mother cleared her throat - "one more spoonful."
I swallowed my fear with some apple butter, then asked again, "What happened?"
Everyone exchanged gazes with one another, seemingly deciding on who should answer. They settled on Delilah. Phoebe sat me on the counter so I could face our mother.
"You were playing outside with one of the barn cats and followed her into the crop fields. You fell into one of the wells and got very hurt," my mom sighed, "but luckily, your sister kept a close eye on you and arrived in time." My mother's hands shook as they held mine, "then you got very sick and didn't wake for four days. We were all so worried."
Father butted in with a more positive spin, "Gina has tirelessly worked away to build safer wells since you fell. We must thank her, and I'll show you how to recognize the wells from now on. You're almost a big girl, and we want you to be safe."
I nodded at my parents.
In unison, my family exclaimed, "You're such a good girl."
Tears rolled down my cheeks before I could stop them.
'Good girl' has a variety of connotations.
Before, it was a shackle and a threat.
Now, it feels more like a head pat.
My father picked me up, "Delilah, kids, I'll bring Daphne back to her room. I think she's still tired." His gentle gaze fell to me, "It's okay, you're safe now. You're always safe with us."
_____
After a few days of bed rest, I recovered but couldn't wander the property alone. As Theo and Phoebe were already teenagers, my parents hadn't realized how lax they'd become with child supervision. My family determined one of them would supervise me until they acquired a handmaid.
I spent most of my time with Phoebe; I felt the safest with her, and she taught me the most exciting things about botany while flitting around her greenhouse like a hummingbird. She told me about the local climate, agricultural staples, and which merchant was ripping her off that week. Her handmaid, Astrid, was always present yet never visible.
When I wasn't with Phoebe, I was following our father. Garth was an incredibly busy man, but not in the same way most dukes are; he served as a jack of all trades for his people. He could advise farmers, fix the wheel of a wagon, and enlighten me about local politics while juggling with one hand. I always learned a lot on the days I was with my father, but my stamina couldn't keep up with the unpredictability of his day to day.
I liked Theo plenty, but the cellar still made me uncomfortable. My aversion to basements wouldn't be cured by apple butter alone. On the days he went to the smokehouse or the seaweed racks on the beach, I'd follow him to learn about the kinds of food we store for the winter (copious snack samples were my other motivation).
As for my mother, I was terrified of Delilah. I could tell she felt my fear and gave me plenty of distance, which made me feel guilty. She was a good mom as well as a proactive duchess. Mother spent most of her days surveying the territory and escorting visitors along the road, gathering information and occasionally odd wares. Avoiding my mother was easy because of her routine, but it prevented me from getting more comfortable with her.
______
My seventh birthday arrived two weeks after my awakening. The manor fell into chaos the days prior and the morning of the celebratory banquet; people from across the province had gathered in the village's two inns and set up a camp in the expansive field where I'd fallen into the well. Are all birthday celebrations this large?
After breakfast, my mother, sister, and a maid I'd never met came into my room carrying a pile of lace dresses, accessories, and at least six pairs of shoes. All the options showed signs of light wear and well-concealed repairs. It made me smile, knowing I'd wear something my sister wore when she was little. I pointed at a dark green dress that matched my father's eyes.
Phoebe squealed, "I was hoping you'd pick this dress. It'll match your eyes, too."
Our mother happily nodded, "Then let's add this lace underskirt, these socks, and," my mother looked at my sister, "brown or black shoes?"
They both grabbed for the black pair, giggling at their unspoken agreement.
The new maid twiddled her thumbs while she stood by the door.
"Oh, goodness, apologies for our bad manners," mother exclaimed, "Celeste, this is Daphne. Daphne, Celeste is your new handmaid."
Celeste awkwardly expressed, "No, I should have… introduced myself."
My new handmaid was a beautiful girl who contrasted greatly with our household. Fair skin and eye color, topped with silvery blonde waves and a cherubic face. She displayed more manners than anyone else in our employ. Though, it appeared her demeanor stemmed from fear rather than stuffy refinement.
I slipped out of the chair, escaping the fashion tornado my sister and mother created, and walked towards Celeste. I held out my hand, and she gently grabbed it.
"Hi, I'm Daphne."
Celeste's sky-blue eyes grew wide, "h-hi, Lady Daphne. My blessings for your seventh birthday."
"My name is just Daphne."
"I understand, my lady. But it's my job to call you Lady Daphne so everyone knows your importance."
I shrugged and settled back into my chair.
"Celeste, can you start untangling Lady Daphne's hair?" My mother asked in a teasing tone.
"O-of… of course," Celeste's face and ears flushed a brilliant pink shade.
It felt like hours passed before I could escape my sister and mother. There were a few more hours before evening, and I wasn't interested in indulging my obsessive relatives any further. I slipped out the window when they'd turned to decide on accessories. With my highly reluctant maid in tow, I quickly reached the garden.
My father and brother stood down the central path. From far away, they looked like twins. Tall, muscular men with black curls atop tanned olive skin. But, up close, Theo's eyes were the same amber brown as our mother's. The men turned at the noise of leaves crunching beneath my tiny stride.
"Daffodil!" My father and brother exclaimed at the same time.
Theo crouched and held his arms wide so I could tumble into him.
Our dad came over and put a hand on my and Theo's shoulders, "Daffodil, you look so beautiful today. Theo and I have much to do in the garden before tonight's banquet. Can you help Miss Celeste with polishing silverware?"
I nodded, "what time is dinner? I want apple butter."
Theo chuckled, "Just before the sun sets, we'll light up the candles in the hall, and you'll be presented by all of us. Everyone's excited to finally meet you."
I tilted my head, "
"Only the people in Lykos know who you are. The people across the peninsula still need to meet you! Few noble houses have stepped foot in the duchy since Phoebe's-"
My father interrupted, "Theo, we've gotta get back to work. Celeste, do you feel comfortable answering any questions Daphne might have about tonight?"
She confidently nodded, "Of course, my lord. I'll bring Lady Daphne to the kitchen and prepare the tables."
Celeste held my hand as we walked back to the manor.
"Miss Celeste?"
"Yes, my lady?"
"Where did you come from?"
A momentary frown broke Celeste's perpetually sweet demeanor.
"Hmmm… I was born in the capital originally. My mother was a court lady, and my father was a professor of history at the King's Academy…" Celeste paused while trying to determine what she should divulge.
This poor girl is already talking about her family in the past tense.
"Lots of things happened; along the way, I met your mother, and eventually, I came to work here for you," Celeste's small smile returned when we made eye contact.
"How old are you?"
"Fourteen, that's seven years older than my lady," Celeste hummed, "I'll turn fifteen in two months, just before the new year begins."
I continued my onslaught of questions, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
Celeste giggled at this question, "I'd like to be your handmaid even when you grow up."
I tilted my head, "Really?"
"Of course," Celeste proudly straightened her back, "A handmaid must stay by their lady's side. Even if I married and had my own children, I'd still want to be your handmaid."
Celeste didn't lie in response to any question I asked, even the difficult ones. I could tell she didn't want to talk about her parents and, by extension, her life from before, so I let our conversation settle into a comfortable silence as we approached the bustling dining hall.
The rest of the day passed quickly. By evening, I was back in my mother's room with Phoebe and Celeste so they could smooth out my frizzy black curls with scented oils and add the accessories I dodged earlier.
"I'm excited to present my little sister today," Phoebe's upper lip trembled, "I'm so thankful you're safe." She offered me her hand, and we walked down the stairs together.
My mother and father were waiting for us just outside the grand hall. The giant wooden doors could only block out so much noise; my banquet sounded like a party already.
My dad lightly knocked on the door, cueing my brother to begin the event.
A booming, deep voice, totally different from Theo's typical tone, announced, "Everyone, please rise to greet your newest lady of Lykos and the Roswen Duchy, Daphne Roswen."
The doors swung open.
My mother and father gently pushed my shoulders, signaling me to walk to the spot at the head of the central table. Our parents followed behind their children while Celeste seemingly appeared behind the head of the table out of thin air. She smiled proudly at me, reminding me to smile as well.
The occupants inside our dining hall were nobles from provinces that bordered our own, with a few curious folks from even further. They and their families occupied the space typically offered to our citizens, and it felt a little wrong. Whispers hummed throughout the room.
A wife muttered to her husband, "Look at this party! They're acting like this child will save the kingdom, but she's just another country bumpkin. What a waste of money."
Then why attend?
"Don't mind the bullies, Daffodil," my father whispered to me as soon as we got out of earshot of that woman.
"It's okay, Daddy. I'm definitely going to save our home."
If I wasn't required to hold my head high and look forward, I would have checked to see if the choked noise I heard was my father stifling tears of pride.
My parents pulled out my chair, then Phoebe's and Theo's, and sat down once we were seated correctly. The hum of the room settled into silence.
Theo whispered, "Now, Daphne, do you remember what happens next?"
I nodded, but I had no idea.
Baron Toren, a well-dressed old man, stood at the head of the table to the right of ours and broke the crowd's whispers, "Now, for Lady Daphne Roswen's interview."
What?
Ignorant of my thoughts, the man continued, "My lady, would you like to answer a question about societal development, medicine, politics, or food production?"
What?
"What?" is nearly what I blurted out, but I regained my composure, "societal development, please."
My family seemed a bit surprised by my choice but didn't object.
"As we all know, the Roswen Duchy is facing hard times. Money isn't flowing in despite Duke Roswen being the kindest lord the Parnassian Peninsula has ever seen," he paused for emphasis, "but with a new generation comes new ideas. This is why we like to ask the children debuting into society for their ideas on pressing concerns plaguing our communities," His eyes turned to me. Then his grin twitched into a sneer, "Lady Roswen, please don't feel pressured to give a good answer."
Baron Toren clearly insinuated that my father was a pushover with no knowledge of how to run the province. Then he implied my parents weren't giving their children a proper education. A yearning to wipe the floor with the baron's ego erupted within me.
"The question is: What is a feasible model to educate the youth of our province while still allowing them to contribute to their family's business? As we all know, education is what unifies a nation."
My mother and father were exchanging bewildered stares.
Easy, this is common knowledge.
I cleared my throat and stood in my chair so everyone could see me, "Seeing as the Parnassian Peninsula is an agrarian province, the best course of action is holding school sessions during the less busy times of year for agricultural production, perhaps from fall to late spring. Regular transportation to and from school would severely burden many families, so providing students room and board while school is in session is imperative. Paying for tuition upfront would be the easiest course of action; however, not everyone could afford this, so offering alternatives such as serving the public for a set number of years following graduation or giving special funds to exceptional candidates is necessary to widen the pool of potential future workers..."
Should I have stopped sooner?
At some point during my response, the baron sat down in defeat, so I curtsied and let my gaze wander across the dining hall. There were exclamations about my being a genius, whereas others suggested the answer was handed to me. A distinguished-looking woman was swiftly making her way towards the head of the table, so I sat down and hid behind Phoebe.
The woman stopped at my mother's seat, "Lady Daphne is truly exceptional! I… I'm sorry. I'm actually," the lady frantically dug in her purse until she located a pocket watch, "this is engraved with the seal of the King's Academy, I represent the rural outreach department."
I swore I heard the representative mutter that she was the only person in the department.
My mother gracefully smiled at her, "And your name?"
"Ah, uh, I'm Wanda, youngest daughter of the asshole that asked the question, Baron Toren."
My father guffawed at Wanda's brazen social strategy.
"I really have to apologize. I'm not sure why my father treated you like this. He was supposed to ask what school subjects might help the province. So, I'm thoroughly impressed with Lady Daphne's ability to answer such a complicated question," Wanda realized she hadn't breathed once during her spiel and did a deep, embarrassed inhale.
Pride swelled in my chest, "Thank you, Lady Wanda. When can I go to your school?"
Wanda chuckled, "Not until you're 12. Though, the academy might change the rules a bit if you asked for a recommendation from a department head," then winked conspiratorially, "like me."
Celeste uncomfortably wriggled in my periphery, and my mother's gaze drifted to my handmaid. To break the mounting tension, which Lady Wanda hadn't noticed for even a moment, I threw a curveball question, "Am I magic? Is that why I could answer right?"
Inquiring minds would like to know; it'd be cool if there was magic.
Oddly, the five people surrounding me were short-circuited, and no one responded.
I only made the tension worse.
Also cool.
Celeste broke the silence, "My lady, if you'll come with me, let's greet the other guests."
To both my and Celeste's surprise, no one objected.
We made our rounds to each table, and I remembered to be gracious as the presents piled in my handmaid's arms. After visiting one side of a table, we'd return to the hearth and set the presents along the mantle.
After finishing our last social greeting lap, Celeste offered her hand and asked if I'd like fresh air. We went through the garden and into my sister's greenhouse.
Celeste gently shut the door behind us and stoked the embers of today's fire; the flames gasped back to life after a few logs were added. I could tell Celeste wanted to discuss what transpired with Wanda.
"So," I repeated, "is magic real?"
"Magic is very real! It's made of something called mana. Every living being contains some level of mana," her eyes steadied on me, making sure I understood her words, "however, only people with an immense amount of mana can cast magic spells or enchant objects without the help of mana stones.
"This is a secret only your mother, Lady Delilah, knows. Can you keep a secret, too?"
I nodded.
Celeste held her hand above a pot with a tiny lavender sprout. She took a deep breath and then steadily exhaled. For every second she exhaled, the plant grew bigger and bigger.
"People with as much magic as me are… not treated well by the king. They're forced into service in the palace, academy, or military. Suppose you're an exceptionally magical woman: the royal family can decide your marriage candidate without considering the input of yourself or your family. If she's selected, she's taken deep into the palace without a choice to return."
So, I ended up reincarnating in a magical, misogynistic hellscape?
"My lady, the societal debut at seven years of age used to be an event where someone's magical potential was revealed. It's theorized that mana capacity is set by the age of seven. The royal family will pursue anyone with notable mana capacity. Still, no law currently states that a child must be tested at their debut. Not yet. Debuts are socially required amongst noble houses, so each house must risk being labeled a coward for not publicly testing their child or being openly loyal to the king and risk losing their child.
Celeste explained with an even, kind tone, but I could tell she wanted to scream and cry. After her explanation, she sat silently, biting her lip.
I whispered, "Can you test me and keep it a secret?"
"My lady, it's best if we don't find out."
I pulled my best puppy dog eyes, "But Celeste…"
I expected her to push back. The puzzle pieces for why her family fled the capitol were coming together, but having this knowledge might help immensely in the future. And, strangely, I trust Celeste. It's only been a day, but my gut tells me she's with me for the long haul.
My handmaid massaged her temples, "Okay, but if I test you, you can't tell a soul. Someone bad might come for you if you tell people. Do you understand?"
I nodded; I'd have to ask Celeste later why she agreed to test me so quickly.
"My lady, close your eyes and breathe as I was doing before. I will hold your hands, and they'll begin feeling warm and tingly. It's your job to spread out that tingly feeling all the way to your toes," Celeste whispered into my ear.
My brow furrowed, and I nodded thoughtfully. Celeste did a slow exhale and then offered her hands. I was prepared for the sensation to feel prickly or uncomfortably hot, but Celeste was right; this sensation is like…
A warm bubble bath.
I opened my eyes as the sensation evenly washed across me. Like warm daylight, a light shone from me, and for a moment, it looked like a sunny afternoon in the greenhouse. The lavender plant ballooned in size.
Abruptly, Celeste tackled me and covered us with her large cloak.
I managed to whisper instead of yelp, "What's wrong?"
She shook her head, but I saw her eyes were full of tears
"Does this mean I'm a powerful witch?"
Celeste grinned, "Mage, my lady. Witches are a type of creature. But, yes, I never thought I'd meet someone like you. I'll have to show you my mana reservoir on a different night. Remember, this is a secret for only you and me to know."
After a few minutes under Celeste's cloak, she decided it was safe to come out from hiding. She grabbed a pair of shears and gestured to the newly grown lavender hedge, "might as well get some flowers out of this, too."