Changeling

The irony was not lost on me — the same dreams that had led me to this predicament were now my only source of comfort, and I didn’t care. I longed for that fantastical palace hidden in a surreal forest that surely could never exist. I yearned for my fairy friends in their silk robes, and for kind-hearted adults who would look at me with understanding. I craved pies and cakes and all kinds of delectable treats that I had only tasted in my dreams. Most of all, I wanted my wings, my sparkling skin, and my pointed ears that could hear the most enchanting melodies... I wanted it all.

“Yer a pretty lass, ye ken.” When the man spoke, I thought for a moment that he had somehow seen the fairy version of myself that I often envisioned in my mind. However, he was simply referring to me—as me, covered in flecks of hay and dirt, with who knows what else clinging to my body. “With yer looks, I imagine ye’ll end up a Lady in Waiting, now that I think about it.”

Perhaps it was his compliment, even though I felt disheveled in my current state, or perhaps it was because he had always been friendly with me whenever he came into town to sell his goods. But whatever the reason, I let out a sigh and gave in to engaging in a conversation with him. “I remember this traveler came through last year, and he said somethin’ similar. Said I was just a budding little flower, but I would bloom into womanhood.”

He rewarded me with a sudden grin, several teeth long since gone. “Aye, I reckon that so. In a different world yer father coulda arranged a man of noble birth to wed ye, but, well, limited options he had, didn’t he, in that wee little village of yers? I tink the city life will do ye good I do. Nay, I don’t tink, I ken.” He gave me a friendly wink and began to hum a cheerful tune. I reclined and gazed upwards at the endless expanse of blue sky.

A river of tears threatened to spill from my eyes, but I refused to let them show. Not in this moment, not in this way. My throat ached from the screaming I had done earlier that morning, and the tears only added fuel to the fire. But I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. It helped, if only a little bit, and when I was confident that my voice would remain steady, I spoke up and asked, “what is the palace like?”

“Hmm? Well…” He clicked his tongue in thought. “I don’t ken really. Been in the castle town, for sure. Lots of pretty lassies that smell nice, nice young chaps too. Kind of smelly to be honest, too many people all together, ye ken?” He honestly didn’t have a right to complain about the scent of a city — he smelled like a bath would do him some good, though how much I wasn’t sure. I wrinkled my nose and tried to focus more on his kindness than his scent. “Do ye like gardens?” he asked suddenly. I saw a twinkle in his eyes when he turned to receive my answer.

“Aye.” I answered after a very brief pause.

He nodded and looked back towards the road. “The castle has a large garden surrounding it, lots of different kinds of plants and herbs. Some of the biggest trees I ever did see.”

After that, I became quiet. It was probably for the best; there was a noticeable gap between us that made any real conversation seem impossible. He was elderly and experienced whereas I was young and inexperienced. He could have shared interesting stories with me, but my mind was too preoccupied—too broken. Besides, I was still struggling to remember to take deep breaths, let alone hold a conversation.

As the sun began to set, we rode our horses deeper into the forest and finally stopped to make camp. The palace was still a few days off, going the speed we were going. Exhausted from hours of travel in a cramped cage, I begged my escort—for that was what I had chosen to call him in my head—to let me out. After swearing on my mother’s soul that I would stay close he reluctantly unlocked the door and helped me out. My muscles protested as I stretched and shook them loose, but I was grateful for the opportunity to stand and breathe fresh air.

As I made my way through the dense underbrush, my feet squished into the damp ground, making it harder to find dry kindling. The rain from earlier must have passed through, leaving very little suitable fuel for a fire. We needed something small and smokeless to avoid drawing attention, but that seemed like an impossible task in this soggy terrain. Meanwhile, the man unloaded our supplies with swift efficiency, but his sharp eyes never stopped scanning the darkening forest. His tense posture and alert movements betrayed his ever-present wariness.

As his unease escalated, so did mine. We were alone in an open space, and although there was no way for me to be certain, I had a strong feeling that it had everything to do with me. After all, I was young and beautiful, a virgin in this dangerous world. Thieves and bandits would jump at the chance to come across us in our little camp. The thought made me shudder, but I quickly pushed it aside. With so many other things going on, worrying about something that may not even happen was pointless.

I dropped to my knees and leaned in, examining the tangled roots of the tall bush. The needles and twigs below were perfectly dry, protected from the elements by their thick covering. With a silent thank-you to the heavens, I scraped up a generous handful of the precious dry materials. It would be enough to start a small fire and dry out the other twigs we had gathered, giving us just enough fuel to cook our meal for the night.

A loud clatter of hooves and a horse’s agitated cry reached my ears, causing my body to tense up in alarm. Within a breath, a slew of vulgarities filled the air, making me quickly pivot on my heels to face the source. A massive black horse reared up on its back legs, its powerful hooves slashing at the air. My heart raced with terror as I took in the sight of a man cloaked in darkness, his piercing stare fixed on me with wicked delight.

“Good evening, sir.” The man tipped his hat and surveyed the camp. His eyes fell on me once again, causing my breath to catch in my throat as I instinctively took a step back. “Well, ain’t this an interesting development. What could a wee lass like yourself be doing out here in the dark with this old man?” Within the emptiness of his gaze, I sensed a deeper force drawing me in. It was like being pulled into a vortex, beckoning me towards the unknown depths.

His eyes were hidden, preventing me from trying to decipher his thoughts. The older man with me was tight-lipped and white knuckled. “And what could we be helping ye with? I would prefer for you to move along if ye dinna mind.”

A wry smirk lit up the man’s face as he leaned back, his eyes scanning the darkening landscape. I followed his gaze, taking in the fading light that painted the sky in shades of deep blue and purple, with a lingering blush of pink and orange on the horizon. The newcomer shifted in his saddle as his horse pawed at the ground, and he looked back at the older man.

“I am searching for something that doesn’t belong. A lost little thing, you could say.” I felt the weight of his gaze on me again, and I wondered why he kept assessing me. “These are troubling times, old man. You’d do best to keep moving forward. She’s a bit too young for me, but that could be perfect for others. What you have there is no ordinary child, she’s a princess in rags.” He flashed another brief grin, one that seemed almost inhuman with its sharpness. With a swift tug on the reins and a kick to his horse’s side, they vanished just as quickly as they had appeared. I emerged from the bushes and gazed up at the road, but the darkness was all-consuming. Despite this, I expected to hear the sound of him riding away, but there was only silence. As if the night had consumed him whole.

I wanted to say something, to vocalize the thought that should have been clear... but I couldn’t find the right words without sounding crazy. I was certain, beyond a doubt, that he wasn’t human.

“Aye.” The old man spoke as he stroked his graying beard. He seemed to know what I was thinking. “Perhaps he was a dangerous fellow, but we must take his warning seriously. I ken ye are tired from the ride all day, but I tink it be best for us to continue. It was a mistake to stop here.”Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

I could barely manage a nod, my mind spinning with a mix of thoughts. I couldn’t find the words to express the overall confusion that was churning in my stomach. His presence had ignited a strange mix of emotions within me—terror, sickness, and most peculiarly, an inexplicable calmness. There was something strangely familiar about him, almost like I had dreamt of him before. But how could that be possible?

I had heard rumors of the beasts in the night, but never had I heard of anything so human-looking. It was hard to believe that he was even close to resembling a person. Maybe I was just overthinking and he was simply a dangerous individual. I took a deep breath and pushed the thoughts out of my mind, turning back to see the elderly man diligently loading his wagon once again. His complexion had returned to a healthier color, and he appeared focused on the task at hand. With a determined resolve, I joined him in loading the wagon.

The memory of that fateful night quickly faded into the background as my life was swept up in a whirlwind. I found myself caught in the flurry of palace politics and power struggles. After completing the final purchase, the man with the cart gave me a nod that seemed almost apologetic, and suddenly I was whisked away into a life of servitude within the grand palace walls. My days were filled with endless tasks and duties as a humble chambermaid, but it didn’t take long for everything to change. With one glance from the Queen, my fate was sealed. From that moment on, I was no longer just a mere servant, but a Lady in Waiting—always at her beck and call, ready to fulfill her every request and desire. The opulence and luxury of palace life surrounded me, but also came with its own set of challenges and secrets to navigate through. But amidst it all, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly where I belonged.

Time never stopped moving forward, and neither did I... which meant that I never had the opportunity to fully comprehend or process any of what was happening around me. My days were consumed by a strict routine and schedule, leaving little room for reflection or emotions. I was taught how to be a refined Lady, with lessons in etiquette and courtly manners, and was given my own quarters on the second floor of the east wing. These rooms were directly above those of the king and queen, who occupied the entirety of the first floor of the east wing. From my window, I could see their bustling court below, people scurrying about like ants in an endless maze. But amidst it all, I felt isolated and trapped in this gilded cage.

When I wasn’t attending lessons and classes on how to be an ideal lady of breeding, my days were consumed by following her majesty’s every move and tending to her personal needs. She had taken me under her wing, treating me like a daughter, and in turn, I became isolated from the other girls. Their envy was palpable and suffocating, weighing down on me like a heavy cloak. It took me over a year to adjust to this new world and the overwhelming sense of loneliness that came with it. The palace was my entire world, with its grand halls and opulent furnishings, but inside I felt trapped and isolated—sick.

But as with the rest of my life, change was the only constant.

The chill of winter seeped through the stone walls, making me shiver as I tightened my corset and slipped on a woolen petticoat. The roosters crowed somewhere far away, signaling the start of another day on the farm. My hand grazed over the smooth wood of my vanity as I braided my waist-length black hair, adorned with a sprig of dried lavender. I paused to admire myself in the mirror, noting how my womanly curves had developed since my youth. As the sun began to rise, casting a golden glow over the room, I pulled on my lace-up boots and headed out—gone were the child-like features of my youth; time had given me a more mature and alluring presence.

It was strange to realize that I had grown up without even noticing. Yet, in another way, I still held onto a childlike innocence. I pushed away any unease that came with that thought. Today, I had classes to improve my speech; my instructor claimed it would help me shed the uncouth mannerisms I had inherited.

Suddenly, I was pushed harshly against the wall, and a rough hand covered my mouth. The touch was calloused and unpleasant. I struggled to breathe as his mouth brushed against my ear. The stench of this person’s breath filled my nose. This wasn’t the first time he had done something like this, and unfortunately, I knew it wouldn’t be the last.

“You know the rules, one word and I’ll take you for real. You tell no one.” His words echoed in my mind, and I was determined to do whatever it took to prevent that from happening. I nodded sharply, feeling the pressure of his hand on my mouth increase as he pulled me closer. Tears stung at the corners of my eyes as he thrust against me with his pelvis. With his face buried in my hair, he took deep breaths, savoring my scent while using me for his own pleasure.

“Oh, I wanna plow your fields...” He let out a low grunt, repeating the same words under his breath. My grip tightened on the walls, my fingernails digging into the rough stone as he picked up his pace. His hand dipped between my legs and I recoiled, moving out of his reach. He looked shocked, but my own expression was filled with seething anger.

The man towered over me, a formidable figure with broad shoulders and bulging muscles. His armor was ornate and bore the markings of a high-ranking captain. He rarely had the courage to touch me, and it wasn’t very long ago when he first did. I always made sure to never be caught alone with him. In recent times, he had become more brazen in his pursuit of me. No longer content with simply staring at me from a distance in corridors and across the grounds, he was now seeking me out. It seemed that months of lurking and watching were over for him.

“Shit in yer hand.” I snapped before turning and running from him.

Sometimes, change wasn’t consistent enough. Like the boys from my village, everyone seemed to want to touch me.