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Authors: Cameron Dokey
31
close your eyes and hold on tight, the faster to get the things you fear to go back to sleep themselves.
I think the worst part is that when you know you dream another persons dream, you can never truly feel at peace. Never truly trust yourself. If you carry around somebody else's nightmare, who knows what else your insides might hide or when it might come out?
Now, where was I?
Oh, yes, the happiest years of my life.
They were, really. Nightmare aside. I got to go outside every day, usually for as long as I wanted. I started by exploring the closest places first. The kitchen garden, and then the other, more formal, palace gardens. Naturally, my favorite one of these was the one devoted entirely to roses, though it always gave Maman fits when I went there. All those thorns.
But, finally, after several months, the day came when I had explored every single inch of the palace grounds to my satisfaction and was ready to take the next step: the world outside the palace walls. I wanted this so much it made my bones ache. So much it kept me awake on the nights the dream didn't come. Not in the same way. Not in fear, but in anticipation.
As if the wide world had a voice and I alone could hear its call.
I was pretty sure I knew what Maman's reaction to my going outside the palace walls was going to be. As it turned out, it was Papa's reaction that provided the surprise.
I've already told you three important things about Papa and Maman. How they waited for many long years to have a child.
How they loved one another in spite of this trial. How Maman preferred to define her world with words, and Papa his with silence. When Papa did choose to say what he thought, however, his words carried a weight Maman's did not. This was not simply because he was king. It was because everyone around him knew that, if he spoke a thing aloud, it was because he had thought it over thoroughly and made up his mind.
So when the day came when I could stand the anticipation no longer and announced at dinner that I wished to broaden my horizons, to go beyond the palace walls, a look of horror crossed Maman's face and she pulled in a breath to give the answer I expected, which would have been: "Mais non!"
32
But before she could, Papa uttered this sentence. "Why do you wish to do such a thing, Aurora?:”
At this, I became so astonished every thought flew from my mind. I had been prepared for a battle with Maman, not a discussion with my father.
“I don't know," I stammered out. "I just do, Papa."
Oswald's face assumed the expression it carries when I have done something particularly stupid, a thing that made me want to kick him under the table.
"But you must have a reason," my father urged gently. "I would simply like to hear it. There's no right or wrong answer.
Take your time. Not everyone expresses an interest in spending time outside the palace, so I'm curious to know why you wish to.
That is all."
Take that, Oswald, I thought.
I don't know how things are in the land of your birth, but in mine there is a division, the great schism Papa calls it, between those who live at court and those who don't. Those at court are mostly nobles, except for the servants, while those they refer to as the common people live outside the palace walls. In towns and villages. In the countryside. The nobles think as little about them as they can afford to, but in this they overlook an important fact of life: It is the ones outside the palace who perform the tasks which keep our country prosperous.
The nobles find no fault with the current arrangement. It's the way things have always been or at least for as long as they care to remember. Why should things not continue the way they are?
The common people have come by their name for a perfectly good reason. Doing common labor is what they are good for, the only thing they know. Besides, it's so difficult to tell one from another. With their dirty faces and hands, they all look so very much alike. Better
close your eyes and hold on tight, the faster to get the things you fear to go back to sleep themselves.
I think the worst part is that when you know you dream another persons dream, you can never truly feel at peace. Never truly trust yourself. If you carry around somebody else's nightmare, who knows what else your insides might hide or when it might come out?
Now, where was I?
Oh, yes, the happiest years of my life.
They were, really. Nightmare aside. I got to go outside every day, usually for as long as I wanted. I started by exploring the closest places first. The kitchen garden, and then the other, more formal, palace gardens. Naturally, my favorite one of these was the one devoted entirely to roses, though it always gave Maman fits when I went there. All those thorns.
But, finally, after several months, the day came when I had explored every single inch of the palace grounds to my satisfaction and was ready to take the next step: the world outside the palace walls. I wanted this so much it made my bones ache. So much it kept me awake on the nights the dream didn't come. Not in the same way. Not in fear, but in anticipation.
As if the wide world had a voice and I alone could hear its call.
I was pretty sure I knew what Maman's reaction to my going outside the palace walls was going to be. As it turned out, it was Papa's reaction that provided the surprise.
I've already told you three important things about Papa and Maman. How they waited for many long years to have a child.
How they loved one another in spite of this trial. How Maman preferred to define her world with words, and Papa his with silence. When Papa did choose to say what he thought, however, his words carried a weight Maman's did not. This was not simply because he was king. It was because everyone around him knew that, if he spoke a thing aloud, it was because he had thought it over thoroughly and made up his mind.
So when the day came when I could stand the anticipation no longer and announced at dinner that I wished to broaden my horizons, to go beyond the palace walls, a look of horror crossed Maman's face and she pulled in a breath to give the answer I expected, which would have been: "Mais non!"
32
But before she could, Papa uttered this sentence. "Why do you wish to do such a thing, Aurora?:”
At this, I became so astonished every thought flew from my mind. I had been prepared for a battle with Maman, not a discussion with my father.
“I don't know," I stammered out. "I just do, Papa."
Oswald's face assumed the expression it carries when I have done something particularly stupid, a thing that made me want to kick him under the table.
"But you must have a reason," my father urged gently. "I would simply like to hear it. There's no right or wrong answer.
Take your time. Not everyone expresses an interest in spending time outside the palace, so I'm curious to know why you wish to.
That is all."
Take that, Oswald, I thought.
I don't know how things are in the land of your birth, but in mine there is a division, the great schism Papa calls it, between those who live at court and those who don't. Those at court are mostly nobles, except for the servants, while those they refer to as the common people live outside the palace walls. In towns and villages. In the countryside. The nobles think as little about them as they can afford to, but in this they overlook an important fact of life: It is the ones outside the palace who perform the tasks which keep our country prosperous.
The nobles find no fault with the current arrangement. It's the way things have always been or at least for as long as they care to remember. Why should things not continue the way they are?
The common people have come by their name for a perfectly good reason. Doing common labor is what they are good for, the only thing they know. Besides, it's so difficult to tell one from another. With their dirty faces and hands, they all look so very much alike. Better
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