Beauty Sleep

by Cameron Dokey

  “To wear my father’s crown, you mean,” I said, and heard him draw in one swift breath.

  “That really is what you think, isn’t it?” he asked, and now his voice was bitter.”It’s what you’ve always thought. Devious, scheming Cousin Oswald. So devious and scheming it never occurs to you I might want something simple and mundane. So simple and mundane you don’t even see it when it’s yours.

  “What about, to be a part of a family? To be wanted. To be loved. Did you never think I might want those things, ma petite Aurore?”

  “But,” I said, then found the words I’d been about to say simply die away and slide back down my throat. For the truth was that such a thing had never occurred to me. Not even once. I don’t think it had occurred to any of us, not even to Papa.

  Oswald turned his head. I could feel his eyes upon my face. “You might as well just admit it,” he said.

  And so I told the truth and answered,”No.”

  He sighed, as I’d placed and lifted a great burden on his shoulders all at once.

  “Wait a minute. You are part of a family,” I said, sitting up a little straighter. Angry all of a sudden. “We’re a family, aren’t we?”

  Oswald gave a derisive snort. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Aurore. Having relatives isn’t the same as being part of a family.”

  “But you never said anything,” I protested. At which he snorted once again.

  “What on earth would you have had me say? One cannot simply ask to be loved. To be included where one is not. ‘Please pass the marmalade, Uncle, and, oh, by the way, could you see your way clear to think of me not as your brother’s son but as your own?’”

  “You could have tried giving it,” I said.

  “It isn’t as simple as that, Aurore.”

  Now it was my turn to snort.”Don’t you be stupid. Of course it is. How many people do you think have the courage to love all on their own? It’s really much easier when you do it in groups.”

  “You make it sound like a herd of cows.”

  My lips twitched.”I prefer the image of a flock of birds, myself.”

  “Crows?”

  “Snow geese. I’m sorry, Oswald.”

  To my astonishment, he closed one of his hands over mine, then raised it to his lips and pressed a kiss into my palm. Then he kept my hand in his, resting it lightly upon one knee.

  “So am I, ma petite Aurore. I kept telling myself that, someday, one of you would see me, see the things for which my heart longed. But you never did. There were days when I thought I knew just how Cousin Jane must have felt.”

  “Invisible,” I whispered, and felt my whole body begin to shiver as fingers of ice walked down my spine.”It’s you in my dream. Not her. It’s been you all along.”

  “What dream? What are you talking about?” asked Oswald.

  “I have nightmares,” I answered.”Nurse is the only one who knows.”

  “Nightmares,” he echoed, plainly bewildered. “How long has this been going on?”

  “Since I turned ten,” I said.”Since I first went outside. Once a month, on the same date as my christening, I dream that I am someone else. Someone lonely and in pain, searching for a thing they treasure, but have lost. They search so long, they become invisible. No one sees them, and so no one recognizes they’re the same as everybody else. They have the same desires, needs, and wants. Until the day comes when their desire changes, and being rid of the pain consumes them. This becomes the only thing they want. To do that, they’re willing to do anything, even inflict great pain themselves.”

  “Jane. You are dreaming of Cousin Jane,” said Oswald, but his voice had suddenly gone hoarse.

  “So I have always thought.”

  “But now you’re not so sure, is that it?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t even know if it’s important.” At this, we both fell silent, as if trying to decide where to go next. And then I heard myself ask one of the questions to which I’d always wanted an answer.”Did you know her?”

  “No,” Oswald answered. He toyed absently with the fingers of my hand.”Not really. Not in the way I think you mean.”

  “But you saw her,” I persisted. At which he nodded.

  “Yes. The first time it happened, I was so young I didn’t even know who she was. She scared me half to death. After that, I got used to coming across her from time to time. We rarely spoke. But seeing someone is not the same as knowing them.”

  “I know that.”

  His lips curved up, though it wasn’t really a smile. “It won’t do any good to run, Aurore. Your father will only come after you. Have you thought of that?”

  “Yes,” I said.”That’s why I’m going where no one will follow: to la Forêt.”

  At this, Oswald dropped my hand as if my fingers scalded and shot up from the bed. “For pity’s sake, Aurore!” he exclaimed. “Have you gone mad? You can’t go there. You mustn’t.”

  “It’s the only way,” I said.”Whatever my destiny is, it’s mine and nobody else’s. And I—I can’t explain it, but I think that la Forêt is where I’ll find it.”

  “Is this another one of those things that you just know?” my cousin asked.

  “Something like that,” I replied.

  No sooner did I admit this than a great urgency seized me. My limbs became restless all at once and I stood up. As if my very bones and muscles had come to the same conclusion my mind suddenly had: If I didn’t leave now, I might never have the strength of heart to try again.

  I moved to stand before my cousin, gazing straight up into his face. “Promise me something, Oswald.”

  “What?” he asked, and though his voice was steady, I could see the turmoil in his eyes.

  “Look after Papa and Maman when I am gone.”

  At this, a strange combination of hope and fear came into my cousin’s face. “I’ll do my best,” he said. “But they won’t want me. They’ll want you. You are going to break their hearts, Aurore.”

  “No,” I said, my voice calm and certain. “Their hearts were broken long ago. Cousin Jane did that. They have just been waiting for the proper time to come apart.”

  To my amazement, Oswald reached down and gently grasped my chin, angling my face upward as if he wished to see it more clearly.

  “When did you grow up?”

  A second surge of urgency flooded through my veins. This time, for him.

  “Tell them, Oswald. Tell them that you want them. Better yet, show them. Maybe you haven’t been invisible your whole life. Maybe you’ve just been hiding.”

  “Oh, so now I’m a coward, is that what you’re trying to say?”

  “Worse. You’re a scheming, devious coward.”

  He gave a strangled laugh and pulled me against him. “Shut up, Aurore. Any more declarations of affection like that and you’ll break my heart too.”

  We stood for a moment with his arms around me and my head cradled against his chest. I could hear his heart beat against my ear. A different sound from the one that Papa’s made, but, to my surprise, just as strong and comforting.

  Seeing someone isn’t the same as knowing them, I thought. And, for the first time, wondered about all I had seen but never known about my cousin.

  “I promise to look after them,” he said at last. “I can’t promise that they’ll love me, just that I’ll love them. Or your father anyway. Your mother may present more of a challenge.”

  “I understand perfectly,” I said against his chest. “Thank you, Cousin.”

  And suddenly, I knew that it was time to step away. To this day, that single step back is the hardest thing that I have ever done. I had thought leaving Papa and Maman would be the most difficult, but it wasn’t. It was stepping out of Oswald’s arms.

  “There’s just one more thing,” I said as I stepped back.

  “You’re awfully full of demands, all of a sudden,” Oswald said. His tone was light. But I could see the way his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. “What
must I promise this time?”

  “Promise me you will never marry Marguerite de Renard,” I said.

  I just had time to see his mouth fall open before I spun around and sprinted for the door. I had one foot across the threshold before I heard his answer.

  “I promise. Fare you well, my little cousin. I will wait for you, Aurore.”

  TEN

  And so I began my journey to la Forêt.

  I traveled all that night, walking swiftly. I walked on the roads when they would take me where I needed to go. When they would not, I walked across the open fields or whatever else lay before me. There were no signposts, but then I needed none. The call of the Forest itself was all I needed to guide me.

  I reached it just at dawn, stomach rumbling, legs aching. I came to a halt at the place where the grass ended. A strange patch of barren earth edged the Forest on what I assumed was all four sides, for it extended in either direction as far as my eyes could see. My toes extended out past the edge of the grass as if over a bottomless pit.

  Just half a dozen more steps, I thought. That’s how many it would take to cross the patch of ground that marked the transition between the world of la Forêt and the world in which I’d grown up. The world comprised of everything I knew and loved. Six little steps to leave it all behind and enter who knew precisely what.

  As I stood, hesitating, the sun came over the horizon with an exuberant leap. And, as the light struck the trees, it seemed to me that the Forest came to life. Branches trembled and swayed upward, as if taking a morning stretch. Trunks gleamed like polished mother of pearl in the soft, early light. In that moment, it seemed to me that I could actually see the magic of the place, shimmering like a soap bubble over the tops of the trees.

  You can do it. It’s only six steps, I thought. You’ve come so far, you can’t stop now, Aurore.

  My body refused to cooperate and remained motionless.

  The sun inched higher and now it seemed to me that the trees began to converse with one another. Each leaned over to its neighbor, first on the right, then on the left, in a great rippling motion, as if passing some vital piece of information from tree to tree in a great chain of knowledge that would soon be spread throughout the Forest. Then, as I watched, trees in the foremost line waved their branches in my direction, the very leaves curling forward, then back, as if beckoning me in.

  I felt a breath of air pass over my face and, in that moment, I knew what it was the trees of la Forêt whispered to one another.

  Aurore.

  Aurore, they said. Welcome. We have been waiting for you.

  At this I might not have been able to move at all, had not an unusual thing happened at almost the very same moment. A great gust of wind struck me from behind, strong as a hand in the small of my back. One. Two. Three. Four. Five steps I stumbled forward before I regained control of my limbs and brought myself to a teetering halt. Now I stood so close to la Forêt I could almost hear it breathing. One more step, and I would be beneath its boughs.

  Now there was no wind at all, as if, instinctively, the Forest knew the same thing I did—that this final step must come from me, and me alone. It must be my will that carried me forward and no other’s. For only then would I truly have chosen my own destiny, embraced no matter my misgivings, whatever it was that la Forêt might hold in store.

  I pulled in five deep breaths. On the sixth, I took the final step. And so the deed was done.

  How shall I tell you what going into la Forêt was like? Though I moved through the air, passing beneath the trees for the first time felt exactly the same as wading in a pool of deep, clear water. As if the magic of the place had given the air a texture and substance it did not possess in the world outside. It pushed against me as I moved through it, as if in silent challenge. Then, over my head, I heard the branches begin to stir once again.

  Aurore, they said. Aurore. At last. We’ve been waiting for so long.

  At that, I made a decision. We had to come to some sort of arrangement, the Forest and I. I couldn’t let things continue as they were, with la Forêt being magical and mysterious and my heart beating just a little bit too hard.

  “I hear you,” I said, deciding my best course of action would be to speak out boldly, beginning as I wanted to be able to go on, even if that was the opposite of what I actually felt like doing. “I do have ears.” To demonstrate, I pushed the curtain of my hair aside. “I’m sure I’m very sorry to have kept you waiting, though I had no idea that I was doing it. If there’s something you want me to know or do, you might as well just come right out with it. Being all mysterious will only make me cross, which neither of us will like.”

  At this, a gust of wind swept through the branches like a sudden laugh and blew into my face with such force that I threw a hand up to cover my eyes. When I brought it down again, la Forêt was quiet and still. Even more, the air was now the consistency of which I was accustomed, though it was so clear and pure it brought tears to my eyes.

  Now I could see that the trees, which from outside the Forest had pretty much all looked alike, were in fact as different from one another as people are. Some were smooth-barked; others had rough skins. They had shades ranging from the black of ebony, to the red of cherry, to the papery-white of ash and alder. The air was so clear that I could see from many feet away a thin line of black ants marching in single file up the burnished copper bark of a madrona.

  The everyday rules regarding the habitats of trees did not seem to exist inside of la Forêt. Spruce and figs grew side by side, embracing one another. It is a study in opposites, I thought. Just as I am. And I heard the Forest sigh and rustle. As if a question that had troubled it had been answered, and a course of action decided upon. And that was the moment I lost what remained of my fear, or most of it, for it seemed to me that la Forêt had reached our agreement, even if I didn’t yet understand quite what it was.

  Naturally, no sooner did I have this encouraging thought than overhead there broke out the loudest clap of thunder I had ever heard and it began to storm. To hail, to be precise. And though the hailstones were only as large as a grown man’s fist, and not his skull, they were more than large enough to make me scurry for shelter.

  The first place I tried was beneath the boughs of the biggest evergreen I could find. But the wind gave it a mighty shake, causing all the hailstones that had been trapped among the branches to rain down upon my head at once. Next I tried crawling beneath some low-growing shrub, only to be chased off by a fox who had taken shelter there along with her cubs. Finally I tried clambering up into the branches of the madrona, but instead slid right down its smooth copper trunk.

  At that, I gave up.

  “Must we play twenty hiding places?” I shouted at the storm. “Three is more than enough. I can take a hint. I’m not stupid. Just show me where you want me to go.”

  As if in answer, the wind snatched at my cloak, tugging until I turned around. Through the driving hail, I could just make out the outline of a cottage, a thing I had somehow failed to notice before. This so surprised me I was incapable of moving for several moments, completely oblivious to the fact that I was growing colder and wetter with every second.

  How could there be a cottage in la Forêt when it had been forbidden to go there for time out of mind? It wasn’t until a hailstone hit me on the head that I found my legs. Questions could be answered later. Right now, I needed to get out of the storm.

  I dashed madly for the cottage, the wind pushing from behind. By the time I reached it, my hands were so cold and wet I couldn’t work the latch, so I ended up kicking at the door. I was just on the point of raising my leg to try to kick it in when it opened. I lost my balance and somersaulted across the threshold, landing in a great puddle of water and mud in the middle of the floor.

  “I believe it’s customary to knock before you kick the door in,” a voice said.

  Then the door slammed behind me and I was staring up into the face of a young man I had never seen before.
<
br />   ELEVEN

  His eyes were the same color as the branches of the evergreens, and were flecked with gold in a way that reminded me instantly of Oswald. Looking up into them was like gazing up into the Forest’s canopy with the sun dappling down. His hair was muddy brown. He looked exasperated with me, to say the least.

  “I didn’t think anyone was here,” I gasped. “I didn’t think people lived in la Forêt. If I’ve hurt your home, I’m sorry.”

  “Yes, well,” he said after a moment. He leaned back and stopped looming over me. “I suppose your haste was understandable. The storm really is remarkable. I’ve never seen such hailstones, have you?”

  At this, he scurried to one of the windows and began to peer out, his irritation with me apparently completely forgotten. The look on his face was such a strange combination of studiousness and excitement, I half expected him to start making notes. A moment later, to my amazement, he pulled a quill, ink, and a small leather-bound book out of a knapsack at his feet, and did just that, not noticing when he dripped ink down the front of his shirt.

  I had seen such hailstones, of course, and ones that were even larger. But since my unexpected companion seemed so excited about the size of the ones currently hurtling through the trees and thundering on the roof, I decided to keep quiet about it. At least one of us was enjoying the current situation. It seemed a shame to spoil it.

  “Oh, and by the way, I don’t live here,” he went on. He made a notation in his book, then pressed his nose against the glass. I feared he’d decide to open the window in another moment. “This isn’t my home. I’ve come to the Forest on a great quest.”

  He spoke those last two words as if they should be spelled entirely with capital letters, punctuating them by shutting his book with a snap. I tried in vain to think of a suitable reply.