The morning sunlight of purity
rushed in as Hilda’s mother
brushed aside white bedside curtains,
the heavens bathing her daughter.
Hilda’s eyelids shot open to the beauty.
Her mother’s stout silhouette, before
a backdrop of a gold and cyanic blue sky,
sat herself beside her daughter.
“God save you, mother,” said Hilda.
“And my daughter, as well.”
As Hilda sat up, her mother
motioned her to stop.
“What is it, mother?”
Placing her hand over Hilda’s
with such delicacy, she knew
her mother had something to say.
“Oh, mother! What is it?
You or father taken ill!” exclaimed Hilda.
“Hush!” Her mother’s smile
eased the suddenness of fear.
“Hilda, my only living child! Pretty
and laborious! I have arranged…”
“A husband for me!” Hilda interrupted.
After some moments of silence,
with eyebrows gathering together,
Hilda knew she would not marry yet. Dipping her head with a sharp sigh,
she pleaded her mother to forgive her.
“Your father and I have arranged
for you a job, one that pays,
one that you’re fit for.”
Hilda leaned forward, asking,
“I have never earned a coin
outside our home, mother.
I thank you and father.”
Hilda leaned further to embrace.
After moments of warmth and love,
unknown even to her mother,
Hilda’s destination was a wintry Hell
in the season of life, summer.
Her mother held Hilda’s, as she said,
“You are going to the castle, girl.”
Moments of heartbeats boomed.
“The… the castle, mother?” Hilda stuttered.
Both gazed at the other in silence,
then Hilda asked, “for how long?”
“After church today, a diligence
will meet us there. And take you,”
her mother choked. Her hand
covering her mouth, as she knew
her daughter did not know the castle
to which she was referring.
So, she asked, “Hilda, you know
whose castle I refer to, yes?”
Heartbeats more of silence,
Hilda then shook her head,
answering, “mother, you mean
castle Hohenzollern?”
“No, my daughter. You are going into servitude, the castle beyond the forest.”
The daylight suddenly became dark,
the summer warmth became wintery.
“Mother… I hear about the girls who
go there, with promise of coin
and valuable lessons in manners
of the nobility from the queen herself.
But mother, these girls never return!”
“Hush!” Her mother pressed her finger
against Hilda’s lips. “Hush and listen, girl.
Both your father and I are old now
and illness naturally will soon follow.
We want our daughter by that time,
to have a husband, healthy children,
a home… and remain God-fearing!”
She suddenly grasped Hilda’s arms.
“You will go for one month!
Enough coin to be made
to find you a husband,
to secure a marriage to a good man!
Hilda gasped, “so, this has nothing
to do with learning epicurean manners,
just a month, just enough coin
to send me away as property,
and become more God-fearing!”
With a sudden sweep of her hand
across Hilda’s cheek, her mother exclaimed, “Yes!” and both
choked in tears. Continuing,
her mother again, with delicacy,
joined hands with her daughter,
in almost a whisper, she said,
“My Hilda will return.”
There, mother and daughter,
in the bright eyes of God,
embraced as if it was goodbye.
And both broke down into tears.
***
The tolling of the church bell
sounded like thunder in Hilda’s ears.
Rather a beacon from some distant land,
calling on her to come, and never return.
She kept looking up at the cyanic blue sky,
imagining an overcast with thunder clouds.
No summer rain, but rather flurries
of snow whirling wildly around her.
And she imagined the black steeple
of the church aflame, collapsing
into a burning pile of splintered wood.
Hearing the bell come crashing down.
This moment of agonizing trepidation,
Hilda’s eyes scanned all the others.
Their pious spirits, their youthful smiles,
her own piousness and innocence.
And to the chorus of the church folk,
suddenly many gasped and screamed
as a carriage driven by four coal-black
horses and a driver without a speck of
color on him, cleaved through the crowd.
It was the diligence, all eyes fell on Hilda.
Many crossed themselves, and whispered
to eachother as they stared.
The driver, with a graceful wave
of his hand, motioned Hilda to climb in.
After one more embrace with her parents,
Hilda gathered her bags
and with obvious reluctance,
got into the carriage, which itself
was pitch black without color.
Next came the crack of the whip,
and Hilda jolted in her seat.
Watching her family and fellow
church-goers fade into the distance.
Moving through the village at a slow pace,
as soon as they cleared the town,
they picked up momentum
at the cracking of the driver’s whip.
Hilda buried her face into her hands.
***
When their speed had slowed,
Hilda finally lifted her face
and noticed they had entered
the neighboring village of Fruhdorf.
The reception there contrasted
like night and day, good and evil.
The carriage came to a stop
before the village townhall.
There, stood three young women
like her, with bags by there feet.
Peasant girls like her obviously.
They picked up their bags and approached.
Filing into the carriage,
their moods and expressions
also contrasted
sharply with Hilda’s.
One spoke first to Hilda, asking,
“Oh, what an adventure!
Have you been to the castle already?”
Hilda rigidly shook her head.
Her solemn glare gave away something
to the other girls. Another added,
“how far is the castle?”
And the the third answered,
“it will be morning when we arrive.”
A weight suddenly dropped
in Hilda’s stomach, and she spoke up,
“I hear the queen will teach us
epicureanism herself. Even dine together.”
Hilda was going off things she had heard,
from the survivors of the castle. “How long are each of you serving the queen?”
The three others looked at eachother before one said, “a year.”
Another jubilantly added, “one year
in the service of our queen!”
“One year in the Queen’s good graces,”
the third answered, then asked Hilda,
“and how long will you serve
in her majesty’s castle?”
“A month.”
Again, the three looked at eachother
however with confused expressions.
“Only a month?”
“Yes, just one month.”
Hilda’s eyes dipped to her mother’s Bible
as she held it open, occasionally reading,
but mostly scanning the pages aimlessly.
Hilda turned to the window
without saying another word to the girls.
Noticing when they were clearing Fruhdorf,
the three girls laughed amongst eachother.
Laughter mocking Hilda’s own trepidation.
All the while, she kept her mother’s Bible
close, keeping a glassy gaze beyond.
The girls’ laughter silenced
as the carriage made a sudden stop.
They could hear the driver hopping off,
then he opened the door, asking,
“who here can read?”
“I, sir!” Hilda answered.
The driver then handed her a letter,
and before breaking the seal,
the driver had shut the door,
climbed back up to his box,
cracking his long whip,
and again Hilda jolted
before noticing that the red seal
had a letter on it: V.
At the urging of the other girls
Hilda broke the seal and read:
“Castle Vlada. My new girls!
You are on a journey through
my beautiful forest,
to my home beyond.
Welcome! Welcome!
Much adventure lies ahead
in your service to me,
and to the kingdom!
Most precious to me
are those who honor their queen,
as queens are chosen by God,
you will earn your place in heaven!”
Your Queen,
V.
To be continued…
