Begin Again

Elsa rested her head on her chin as she stared out the window. She watched the merchants begin to set up their mobile shops for the Juniper Festival. She imagined herself as one of the young peasant girls skipping up the street to the music. She sighed as she sat on her mattress and smoothed out her blue velvet dress. Small beads of sweat were beginning to form along her forehead, right under her blonde, silky hair. Elsa thought that June was too hot to be wearing velvet, but her mother insisted she look nice. While she fanned herself with her hand, she walked out of her room and into the dark, damp hallway.

                She made her way down the long hallway towards the main staircase. Elsa had always thought there was something eerie about the way the candles never burnt out or melted down. She always managed to convince herself that the servants were very good- they replace them when no one is looking. But today, she noticed a strange smell that seem to be originating from the burning wick. Thinking she must be going crazy, she just ignored any qualms she had about the candles.

She lightly stepped down the stairs, and then she walked towards the dining hall. She watched as her father directed the cooks on which foods to make for the feast. Tonight, he would invite all of the merchants in for a six-course meal. Normally her father doesn’t let anyone foreign into the castle, but it has been customary for the king to invite the merchants in ever since the kingdom was founded.

Elsa knew that he would be very grumpy today because of the company soon to arrive, but she so desperately wanted to enjoy the festival from the street level. She didn’t want to stare at the booths from her window. So, she took a deep breath and spoke once her father was finished yelling at the servants.

“No!” his deep voice boomed. “I told you we do not use the best dishes for tonight’s feast! I do not care what my father used to do, I just know that I don’t like tonight’s dinner. So, use the best of the worst dishes. And do not use up all of the spices in the soup! Those are expensive!”

“Yes, your majesty,” a servant said in a squeaky voice.

King Tynan wiped away the spittle that had collected in the corners of his mouth and his beard during his rant. He ran his fingers through his short brown hair as he tried to collect himself.

“Hi, father,” Elsa finally said.

“Oh, hello Elsa. Do you need something?”

His voice was filled disinterest as he spoke to his daughter. It was a stark contrast to the fury the just recently filled his words.

“I was just wondering if you might let me go out to enjoy the music of the festival. I will be eighteen soon, and I was hoping that I might finally be old enough to go out. I get so tired of staring at the fun from my window. This festival only comes every four years, and I desperately wish to enjoy this one before you marry me off to some dunce.”

The king stared at his daughter with his beady black eyes.

“How about the answer, no.”

Elsa’s face fell and she turned to walk away before her father yelled, but it was too late.

“I give you a home and nice clothes and riches, but you wish to associate yourself with the poor people? What an ungrateful child. And all of your marriage prospects are none but the richest men of the lands. I don’t wish to hear you call any of them ‘dunces’.”

He made air quotes with his fingers as he said that last word. Elsa’s eyes filled with tears, but she visibly cringed with what her father said next.

“So, Elsa,” he began with a sickly sweet voice. Then he started to yell again. “You will never be allowed out of this house until you marry!”