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I turned to see the older woman, who I forgot was there while I’d been reading.

Her hair was tidily pulled back in a tight braid; it was a mix of brown and grey, and her face had so many lines upon it–wrinkles she had earned, I was certain, from the full lifetime of expressions upon her face.

Mother always taught me to be mindful of my facial expressions, mostly to avoid ending up looking something like that lady.

Still, even though she may not have appeared as perfectly beautiful as, say, my mother, she had a beauty that my mother never could have.

She seemed to have a sort of confidence, such that she did not have to prove anything to anyone.

She worked for the royals and was close to the prince; certainly, that would have built confidence.

I envied the peace she exuded.

Will I ever appear that confident? A confidence born from being unapologetically myself?

“Oh, thank you,” I said, leaving my thoughts behind.

“You will find the prince to be carefree and easygoing,” she smiled, and the beautiful wrinkles crinkled in such a charming and honest way.

“He does seem so. What is your name?”

“You may call me Martha. No title needed.” She looked from me to the needlework in her lap. Her needle moved very quickly over some embroidered design that I could not make out, using a bright blue thread.

“I will see you tomorrow?”

“See you then, my lady,” she said, still looking at her work as she spoke.

Tucking the book under my arm, I made my way back through the castle.

It was absolutely the most beautiful building I had ever seen.

I walked slowly, no longer having the fear of arriving for my first meeting.

White marble columns framed the open hallways; light blue and white shimmering curtains moved softly in the gentle breeze.

The salt of the sea, mixed with the pink, red, and yellow, tropical spring flowers, blooming in silver pots against each wall, smelled of home–of Walden.

I closed my eyes, clenching my book tighter under my arm.

The steps I took upon the white, marble hallway floor created a steadying and calming rhythm.

I paused for a moment to admire the airy walkway, and I smiled as the warm sun shone through even behind a few rain clouds, and I began to walk again.

I was happy to see the sunshine after having arrived during the rain.

I continued my slow walk, wanting to prolong my departure.

How could it be that I feel more comfortable here within these castle walls than within my own home? I wondered.

Mother, of course, I answered myself. I knew that Mother was always the reason.

But one could not change their mother. I wondered what it would have been like to have been raised by someone like Martha, the chaperone.

If I ever married, I was determined to do things differently than my mother.

However, I was not sure I would ever marry.

Mother seemed to believe that it was an impossibility for me because of my timidity.

Finally reaching the front entrance and then the carriage, I thought again of Prince Peter.

He had been nice to me, and that was something I was grateful for.

It would have been so much more difficult, of course, if he had been unkind.

I smiled, thinking about him lying there as I read to him.

Perhaps, reading to the prince would become a bright starlight in my darkened sky.

“So, did you shame your family?” Mother asked as soon as I walked through the front door of Darling Manor. I clenched my book tightly, my fists aching from the force of it. I moved it up in front of me. The book-shield had worked earlier; perhaps, it could help me with Mother.

“I believe it went well, Mother. I was surprised to learn that I was reading to the prince .”

“Yes, I thought better of telling you. I know how you get–so afraid of even your shadow,” she said with a wave of her hand. “This is a unique opportunity and it better have gone well, because I do not want to have to explain another failure of yours to my friends.”

Her words felt like knives cutting through my chest. I’d left my heart exposed, and the book was not large enough to cover my whole person as a true knight’s shield would.

I was used to her jabbings and stabbings and had created ways to repair the wounds she often inflicted.

At that moment, I only had to stop the blood from seeping.

I pressed the book tighter against myself, moving it up against my chest, blocking my heart until the wounds cauterized .

Mother put on her spotless, white gloves as she walked toward me.

I stood by the door, looking at her blonde hair that was perfectly pulled back in the latest, most popular fashion; her dress pressed perfectly; and her posture straight.

I looked at her skin; it was almost flawless, but hiding in the corners of her eyes and mouth, there were some wrinkles.

She could not fully escape them, it seemed.

The comparison I had made earlier between her and Martha was irrefutable.

Maybe my mother would be the more admired of the two if they stood side-by-side, but Martha was the real beauty who won my admiration.

Mother was perfect , like always, but there was a stiffness to her perfection, something stirring in her eyes which revealed that she was not satisfied.

She had no peace within her, not like Martha had.

“See you later, Gwendolyn. I am headed into town–unless you would like to accompany me?”

“Oh, I have to prepare for the reading tomorrow,” I said, nodding and walking to the stairway, needing to escape her by leaving to go read in my room.

While she did not mind my reading, she thought socializing was of higher importance.

Having a daughter who did not like to socialize was a great disappointment to her.

“Fine, be bookish.” She waved her hand in annoyance, not looking at me. “I guess, as long as it helps to bring us closer to the royal family, I can tolerate your obsession. ”

“Thank you, Mother.” I watched as she walked through the door and stood frozen on the steps as it closed behind her. I took what felt like my first breath since arriving home. It was always more peaceful without my mother there.

Perhaps, I could read in the sitting room near the window. She will, most likely, be gone till supper. I wouldn’t have another run-in with her until then, and I could enjoy the beautiful view for a time.

Moving quickly to the safety of the sitting room, I found a comfortable space with closed doors, open windows, and with my book in my hands, I let the story finish healing my wounds and the sea breeze soothe me.