"How come every time I turn my back on you for five minutes, you disappear and then an hour later you return with your skirts all dirty with dirt and some soot?"

"I'm sorry Lady Lucas, but this house is very large and I enjoy searching every nook and cranny that I see."

"That must be the biggest lie I ever heard in all my life. But non the less I can tell that but the way your skirts are after you disappear. My one question though is where do you go? It seems you go up to the attic and clean it with your skirts." Lady Lucas started to help me take of my outer skirts.

"Oh no, I do that with all the scraps from sewing. After all, my sewing is gastly and hardly any of the maids can go up there. Since of course it's forbidden to all but a hand full."

"Oh really? And you are one of that handful?"

"Well of course I am. I am after all one of the children of Sir. Markus de Catamule. And his only daughter."

"More like, 'his only sickly daughter." A young maid said in a loud whisper to an other maid.

"How dare you speak about me like that!!" I yelled at her as anger boiled in my veins.

I could feel my face getting red from the extent of my anger and slowly my shame of my health.

"I'm so sorry your Highness." The maid bent low in a bow and slowly walked backwards to the doors.

"Just leave! ALL of you!" I flung myself down onto my large bed of silk.

"Your Highness!" Lady Lucas said in a firm voice.

"I don't care! Just leave me!"

Every one left me as I cried tears of hate  to that maid, me for being so sickly.


I must admit that because of all my crying and tiredness I became ill with another fever.

Margret my personal healer came in with sigh.

"Must you really through a fit that gets you sick? Really."

"it's not my fault." my voice was weak and I felt as hot as the sun.

"If I may be so bold, I dare say it is. Yelling, screaming and then crying as if the plague came and took everyone and everything. And I might at keeping a window open when the wind starts blowing a cold wind. It's very hard to not say that it is your fault."

"ugh." I looked that other way.

"Now lets get you better. So that you can attend the Midsummer Feast."

"Father wouldn't let me even if  I was all better." Margret started putting blankest around me.

"Well, you'll never know unless you try." Margret handed me a cup of tea and started a fire in my fire place.

I looked at the brown colored tea. Would father really let me go to the feast if I got better? Oh heaven please let that be a yes.

The End

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