Layla
Page 25
Sunlight peeped through my window. My new window. Even though I hated this new room with a passion, I knew I was about to get rid of it, and that made me cheery. I opened my eyes to the glaring sun, then closed them again. Reluctantly I threw the covers off, and sat up on the side of my bed. I slipped my feet into my warm, woolen slippers. I stood up and slipped my silk robe on. I started for the door, but first I went over to my window and threw open the curtains. No matter whose room it was, it needn't be so dreary!
Satisfied, I headed towards the door again. I stuck my hand in my sleeve, to keep the cold stone knob from freezing my hand. I twisted it, but it didn't turn. I stood there for a second, dumbfounded. But then I realized that it was probably my silk sleeve, and it didn't have enough grip to turn such a knob. Bracing myself for an icy jolt, I grabbed it again and turned. Really hard. But it didn't turn.
It was locked.
Eyes wide, I stumbled back on the cold stone floor and fell onto my bed. I sat, heart jumping in my chest, trying to grasp what was going on. Then I figured it out. Father. He had locked me up, something like Rapunzel. Only I was different. I needed to be free! Like a bird in the sky. I was not meant for heavy chains. I was not meant for merely one room. I needed to roam! Roam and be free! But all of my dreams had been shattered at once, leaving me a barely breathing heap atop my bed.
I should have known something like this would happen. Everybody acting strange yesterday. The only bedroom in the castle with a lock on it. Brye's making me promise never to turn against him. Brye. It was him! My mind flashed back, remembering father's letter: "Brydon has come up with the idea, and I have now consented." It was his own idea to get me home! And to keep me here! And I thought I was the selfish one!
I jumped up and crossed over to the window. I examined my choices carefully. I was over the moat, so plan A would be to jump out and drown. Maybe at least they would feel bad. Plan B was to stay locked up forever.
My heart dropped to my feet in dismay. There had to be another alternative! I couldn't figure out which one was worse. Dying fast by falling into waters of doom, or dying slow by being driven into forlorn insanity. I was still dumbstruck at the idea that father had been so devious as to lock me in my room, and? take Coca! Where was he? I had him in bed with me last night! But now he was gone!
I ran over to the door and started banging on it with my fists. If I was going to be kept imprisoned, they at least had to give me my monkey! With all my might my balled hands drove into the door. Finally someone came and opened the door. The man did not say anything, just loomed over me in silence.
"Where is Coca? Give him to me now, or I'll?" I started shoving demands in his face. "If I am imprisoned like a criminal I have a right to my pets! Where is he?" I broke off, panting. The man stepped aside. Brye came into view, holding Coca in his arms. His warm gaze met my cold gaze.
"Here, I took care of him last night."
My eyes did not shift as I retrieved the monkey.
He sighed. "Listen, I know what you're thinking. It wasn't my-" He stalled, startled by my hateful look.
"Brydon, I cannot talk to you right now." I turned and faced the window.
I had just called him Brydon. I was really angry.
He came over and stood by me. I kept my eyes focused on the glass. I was so angry at the world, angry at father for locking me in, angry at Brye for bringing me home.
"Now listen-"
"No you listen!" I cut him off. "You don't understand anything! You don't know! My whole life has been ruined, shattered, because of you!" My hand flew to my mouth. I had accused him too quickly, by the look of Brye's expression. I began to reconsider whether he really had been part of this. I had just blamed him falsely for ruining everything, and now he looked as if he could have died that second. Like his eyes were ready to brim with tears. But they didn't. Mine did.
"I'm sorry!" I let him put his arms around me, comforting me. Then I drew back. "I just don't know who to believe," I bit my quivering lip. He tilted my chin up with his square finger. I stepped back. Shaking my head inside, I said, "Thanks for taking care of Coca." He understood I was hinting for him to leave. He nodded and headed out of the room. I slumped onto my bed. How could words describe my misery, my despair?
I didn't know what father planned to accomplish. If he wanted to keep me confined, he could at least let me roam the castle. My spirit was breaking. I felt so unloved. I tore in rage at pictures of everybody that had fooled me in my mind. I had to get out. But how? I could not ask Brye. Last time I asked him for help, it got me brigged in a dreary tower. Imagine! Locked up in a room with only a monkey for company.
And the room- oh, the room! It was gloomy as could be! They didn't even bother to hang my favorite tapestries. What a major lack of color. Maybe if I requested a livelier room, a more satisfying place? maybe if I made everybody think I was absolutely content here, they would see their plan was not going to work and I would be released! That was my plan C. More like my plan X.
LaShebah walked in, eyes all red and puffy. "Is there anything I can do for you princess?" she asked with a quivering voice.
The thought that ran through my head was, "Yes! First, don't call me princess, second, GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!" But I controlled myself. Screaming would mess up my plan.
"Yes. This place is nice, but it needs more color." I waved my hands about, as if I were planning the whole d?cor. "Some tapestries would do nicely. And- oh, could you bring in some flowers? They might help overcome the musty smell." I slapped a content look on my face.
LaShebah looked shocked. "I shall? get on that right away."