Moonlight

The River Jeva was slowly flowing past the lively little town on its banks, embracing the low hill behind, on which Lady Aghata's castle stood, withdrawn in dignified solitude. Its walls were built of dark grey stone, and the lace-like towers shimmered golden brown in the afternoon sunlight. Low bushes lined the castle grounds, forming a green fence around it.

Light rarely shone from its countless windows. Few lived behind its closed gates, and even fewer visited the town. People sometimes saw the burgundy-black heraldic carriage pass along the main road, but despite their efforts, they could never peer behind the thick curtains. All they knew was that the Lady had lived in the castle for as long as they could remember. Some believed she was centuries old, while others just laughed at such rumours, and the wiser ones said nothing at all. They never saw any visitors go to the castle, although only one road led to the hill, passing through the town, and still, no one knew about tonight's guest.

In the vast dining hall of the castle, candles burned in tall, wrought-iron chandeliers along the walls, their light spilling over the oak dining table, around which twenty people could easily have sat. But tonight, just as on every evening for many years, only two women quietly dined at the far ends of the great table.

One of them appeared to be a few years older than her companion. Her long black silk gown clung to her slender body. Her posture and her entire presence exuded dignity and strength. Her hands moved mechanically as she cut small bites and raised the fork to her lips. It was clear that her thoughts were elsewhere. She didn't even notice the girl sitting at the other end of the table – elbows on the surface.

She had just grown out of childhood. At least that was evident from her round baby face, her thin, fragile frame, and her bright azure eyes. Her colourful, patterned dress was a vibrant splash of colour amidst the sombre walls. She fidgeted in her seat like a flower disturbed by a gentle breeze. Her thin fingers disappeared into her thick, wavy blonde hair as she leaned forward, picking at her plate. Her eyes occasionally darted to the woman with the black hair, almost as if expecting a reprimand for her improper behaviour.

Yet, she still flinched when the woman spoke, her deep voice breaking the silence.

"Aliarra," the fork clinked softly as she set it down on the plate.

The blonde girl immediately straightened, trying to mimic the other's posture. But at the sound of the following words, her shoulders slumped and her mouth fell open.

"Tomorrow, you leave the house. I hope you will remember everything I taught you along the way, for it will serve you well. I haven't spent all these years on you just to send out the ignorant maid I took in long ago. When you finish your dinner, go to your room and pack. You'll need only two changes of light clothing and the jars from the green chest. You leave at dawn."

"As you wish, Lady Aghata," she replied, gathering herself and her voice, nodding slightly. "Where am I going? If I understand correctly, you will not come with me. Will I have a companion? Who will it be? Ghustav? And when will I return?"

She asked all her questions in a single breath before the other could cut her off.

"You will know everything when the time comes. Now go pack."

Without a word, the girl stood and made her way to her room, her mind racing.

An ignorant maid, indeed! She had been just a child then. It had taken months for Lady Aghata to wean her off the "yes, ma'am" and constant bowing. Though sometimes, she still felt a twitch in her spine when the Lady spoke to her with a little more force. But to call her a maid was an exaggeration.