Hair like Fire, Eyes like Water

A Story by Gianna Addams

Love in 16th Century England was never easy, especially when the lovers in question are considered an abomination

Gianna LePera

Once upon a time in a far off land there lived a girl, who worked on an estate. Her name was Sara. Sara’s tasks were grueling and laborious, but every day since she was a child she loved to irritate the prince that lived in the big house. He would come to his window, or stroll about the grounds, and she would pester him with meaningless questions and jeers until he was ready to burst. They had played together when they were younger, but out of the view of the Queen and King, who would never let their son be associated with a plebian. Her mother had often accused Sara of growing to love the boy, but she could never think of anything more detestable. Sara got a decent education, for the prince would often throw down books and notes to her from his window, as he found out quickly how much she loved learning by her fascination with asking the meaning of every “fancy” word he would use in conversation. Sometimes, when his mother and father were out, the prince Philip would let her in the castle. They got caught once, and Sara didn’t see him again for two months, he wasn’t even allowed to leave the castle. Everything changed the day Philip told Sara that his siblings, who had been living under the care of his grandmother, were coming briefly to stay.

“If they are anywhere near as intolerable as you, I’m sure it will be marvelous to meet them.” Philip loved when she used, and sometimes mispronounced, the large words she insisted on throwing into casual banter. They sat behind the wooden houses built for the peasants who worked the land, eating grapes.

“Hm. Well we are related but I’ve never met them, so your estimates of their dispositions are as good as mine.” Philip said, and Sara nodded in agreement. She threw a grape seed at the creek, and watched the ripples work their way out from the impact point, making little waves where the grass kissed the water. Philip watched her face from the side, as she smiled and stared at the water. She always wondered why he did that.

“You’ve never met your own siblings, not even once? And how many of them are there, how many boys or girls?” Said Sara, throwing another seed.

“I think,” Philip muttered, still chewing on a grape, “I have a younger brother, aged maybe 11, his twin sister of the same age, and another sister, only one year your elder.” Sara raised her eyebrows and took another grape.

“We shall see if she has not been too rashly influenced by her surely pompous upbringing.” She gave Phillip a playful shove, and he laughed.

“Cheers,” Philip said, raising his grape as if it were a glass. Sara brought her grape up and lightly bumped them together.

The next day, the siblings arrived, in a beautiful carriage. Sara was hoeing the fields, her face smeared with dirt and her dress in tatters, when she heard the sounds of hooves arriving at the gate. The twins came stumbling out of the carriage first, both wielding wooden swords, battling each other. Sara had not seen much sword fighting in her life, but she noted that they both did have impressive form. Just then, she heard a laugh come from the back of the carriage, and out stepped the most beautiful girl Sara had ever seen in her life. She had long, silky red hair, and greenblue eyes that pierced through the morning haze. Her laugh echoed in Sara’s ears like a drum, her pale ivory skin seeming to gleam in the sun. She had the most beautiful smile, with lips spread from ear to ear out of pure joy, ever so slightly throwing her head back in feigned exasperation. That was when she spoke.

“Joan, I think I may have taught you too well, you may kill poor Robert some day and I won’t be the one to help you hide the body.” She said, that ever-haunting laugh still emerging in between words and in pauses. Her voice, Sara thought, was like an angel. She was an angel surely, there was no way such an impossibly beautiful person could have been anything but crafted by the hands of God himself. Just then, those impossibly clear green eyes drifted to Sara, and her expression changed. Her smile neutralized, but then spread again onto her face, this time only a little grin. Sara cursed herself for staring like an idiot with an awestricken look on her face, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away, even when the princess had looked down. Sara shook her head as to bring herself out of this haze, and continued working on the hoeing she had long since abandoned, awkwardly fumbling with the handle and struggling to work the metal end through the thick dirt. The angel smiled again at this, but turned to walk towards the house. Sara looked back at her as she disappeared into the entrance, widening her eyes and shaking her head. What in the hell had just happened.

After nightfall, Philip climbed down the greenery by his window as he always did, and scuffled along to meet Sara, who was gazing out her window at the castle in a peculiar manner. He furrowed his brow and waved a hand over her eyes to shake her from the trance she seemed caught in. After a few moments she shook to attention and looked at him, a bit bewildered.

“Huh, what? Oh hi Philip.” She said, clearly still stuck in her own head. He squinted at her.

“No insults? No quips, no sarcastic remarks really what on earth has gotten into you Sara?” Philip said. When she did not reply, he followed her eye line to a window, where his sister sat, focused intently on scribbling something on a piece of parchment. Sara looked down nervously and then suddenly started changing the subject.

“Those kids will be annoying huh, adorable but deadly, did you see their sword form? It was quite impressive, next thing we know they’ll be challenging you to a duel! If your jousting skills are at all like I recall you may be struck down before your prime!” She continued babbling on, but Philip knew something was different. He couldn’t place what it was, but it made him uneasy. Out of impulse, he kissed her, and Sara was caught by surprise. She knew she should want this. This is what all the storybooks were telling her was perfect, her dream, her fantasy. But, despite everything, she couldn’t do it. Sara pulled away and Philip looked at her, waiting for a response. She couldn’t think of anything to say, so she just looked at him with pity, and with sadness. Sara just shook her head and Philip knew what that meant. He struggled to hide how hurt he was, which killed Sara, and nodded dejectedly, biding her a silent goodbye, before he turned and left.

Sara could not stop thinking of the angel, even in the days that followed. Her laugh, her eyes, her smile all haunted her memory day in and day out. Sara could not conceive what could possibly have come over her, the emotion made her sick to her stomach but lightheaded and joyful. She could not for the life of her understand why she felt this way, it had never happened before. Philip sensed it, she could tell. Sara had to snap out of whatever this was and quick. The next day she declared herself ill, what else could have her so on edge, and therefore was allowed to work in the house. This excited and unnerved her, but once again she could not comprehend the feeling. With tattered clothes and rugged shoes she made her way inside the house, never failing to feel unwelcome. As she entered the other servants looked up and greeted her, presenting her with a bucket of water and a cloth to scrub the dining room floor. Sara nodded and made her way inside to find the angel sitting at the comically large table Philip always made fun of, scribbling again. When Sara came in the angel’s eyes bulged and she dropped her ink cartridge, making the black liquid spill on the floor. The angel quickly dropped to her knees, attempting to clean the mess and muttering…

“I’m so sorry, I seem to be a bit jumpy for the past couple days.” Sara rushed to her side to clean the spilled ink, using the cloth and bucket she had been supplied with.

“It’s alright miss, this floor has seen its fair share of messes. Once, the queen even spilled a whole bottle of wine!” Sara said, giggling, and then immediate realized she had been too informal. She cleared her throat and continued, “sorry miss, I don’t mean to be rude.” The angel seemed surprised, and began laughing as well.

“Don’t be silly, I’m sure the queen had too much of the stuff to begin with!” She said, and the girls both giggled like children. Sara couldn’t stop smiling.

“It really is alright miss I can clean up the ink, some baby powder and lemon should banish the stain.” The angel stopped and stared for a moment, surprised by something, but wiped the expression off her face promptly. Sara rushed to the kitchen and the bathroom to retrieve the supplies, and came back to continue scrubbing. Surely enough, the stain came right out.

“How did you know that? About the stain.” The angel asked, seeming to be genuinely interested in the answer. That was something Sara had to get used to.

“Oh you learn your fair share of tricks after working here all your life, I should hope I would know how to get out a stain even if I do tend to the land instead of the house usually.”

“Why not now?” The angel said, “if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Um, I’ve been feeling a little odd since last Tuesday morning, must be a little cold. I wouldn’t want to make you sick too miss”

“Not to worry, what’s the harm in a little cold?” Sara could do nothing but stare, speechless. The angel’s face was illuminated by the fire that blazed a few feet away, making her eyes gleam in the light, a bottomless electric emerald sapphire ocean that Sara could drown in all day. Wait what? What was Sara even saying how could you swim in someone’s eyes that didn’t make any sense. The angel stared back then abruptly looked down, quickly rising to her feet and gathering her things. “I uh, have to go. It was nice to meet you….”

“Sara”

“Sara. I’m Ivy. I hope I didn’t take up too much of your time”

And with that, she was gone, hair flipping ever so slightly as she left, exposing the beautiful braids from each side of her head, joining together at the back to gently pull the locks away from her face. She smiled slightly before she was gone, but Sara could, once again, do nothing but freeze. Sara gently placed her hand over the spot where the stain once lay, grinning to herself. Not one person in her entire life, including Philip, had ever been so kind to her, treated her like an equal, like a friend, like a… Sara stopped her train of thought and hastily returned to scrubbing, it might take her all day if she didn’t start on that ridiculous table soon.

Sara saw Ivy again a few times over the next two days, once in passing in the corridor, exchanging a small smile, and once again when Ivy was staring at the moon on her balcony, and Sara was returning to her hut. The moon shined on her face just so, enough to bring Sara to nothing but a babbling idiot. Ivy motioned with her hand towards Sara, beckoning her to come closer. Ivy’s room was only one story up, so conversation was not terribly difficult.

“You see how the moon is only partially lit? Its because the earth is turned away a bit, and we can only see part of it.” Ivy said, putting her fingers out towards the sky, making a pinching motion with her long, slender fingers. “It’s so tiny from here, but the higher up you are, the bigger it gets.” Sara smiled and raised her fingers too, pinching the moon in between her thumb and ring finger. Ivy grinned down at her.

“I love the night, most people don’t because it’s dark, but I do because you can see the stars and the moon. Sometimes I lie on the grass and connect the stars like dots, and I make up my own names for them. Consider it reverse cloud watching,” Sara said. Ivy laughed, and her hair blew in the breeze, enough to slide the drifting strands off the side of her face.

“Someday, I’ll do that. But I have to learn from the aficionado right? Guess you’ll have to help.” Sara’s grin could stretch wider than the sky when she said

“Whenever the whim strikes your fancy miss.”

On the third day since Sara’s presence in the house, she was ordered to clean Ivy’s room. Sara cursed and blessed the stars all at once. She scurried up the stairs and to Ivy’s door, moving her hand to knock, pausing, then continuing the motion. She heard a familiar, sweet voice utter, “Come in.” Sara turned the doorknob and opened the door, revealing a sight she wanted tattooed on her memory. Ivy sat on her bed, the sun streaming from the window behind her, illuminating her red hair to have all the vivid color of a fire raging bright but also a gentle stream as it cascaded down the sides of her face and the front of her blue dress. She was, of course, scribbling away at the parchment on her lap, focusing intently on her work. Ivy looked up upon Sara’s entry, and lit up with that smile Sara had begun to look forward to every day. “Come in Sara, I’m not terribly busy. What is it?” The tone of her voice was like a bell, ringing clear in the air. She had remembered Sara’s name. Sara wondered why.

“I have orders to clean your room miss.” Sara said, as casually as she could muster. Ivy giggled and shook her head.

“Alright but you must stop calling me ‘miss.’ It’s Ivy, and you’re Sara. It is okay that I call you Sara?” She said. Sara shook to attention again, never understanding why she always lost focus on Ivy’s words to instead observe the curve of her lips.

“Yes, yes of course I don’t mind, you could call me Erving and I wouldn’t mind.” Sara said, soon realizing in horror how much she had misspoken. “Err… not that um you would call me Erving or that you specifically could call me anything or… I always say the wrong thing around you-- people! I mean people, around people, and I offend PEOPLE.” Sara felt like a complete idiot. Nevertheless, Ivy was laughing and shaking her head, looking at Sara with a gleam in her eyes Sara pretended not to recognize.

“No offense taken, Erving.” She said, still stifling giggles. Sara couldn’t help herself but laugh too. They stood there, laughing for some time, until Sara’s ribs hurt. “Come sit down!” That shut Sara up in a second. She swore she must have misheard, but Ivy eagerly tapped the bedding next to her. Sara looked back at the door, and Ivy let out a sigh. “I won’t tell anyone,” she said softly, in a tone that lit something in Sara’s stomach. “And you certainly do not have to clean my room for me, I’ll do nothing but dirty it again before nightfall. I am a poor slob despite my hopeless efforts at tidiness.” Sara laughed again and grinned, before cautiously sitting down on the bed as well. She glanced down at Ivy’s parchment, and was met with something she never expected. Ivy struggled to cover up the paper but Sara grabbed it in time. She found herself looking at beautiful sketches of the castle, the corridors and of landscapes, tracing the dried black lines with her finger. Sara looked up at Ivy, who was blushing, and Sara noticed the gleam still in Ivy’s eyes, the gleam that made her want…something. She couldn’t put a finger on what.

“I beg your pardon mi--Ivy. But these are exquisite.” Sara said, attempting to stop herself from gushing, she had already made quite enough of a fool of herself today. Ivy’s eyes lit up and she smiled, biting her lip and looking down at her hands, fiddling with her fingers. As Sara was about to turn another page to a different drawing, Ivy snapped to attention, eyes bulging, and grabbed the papers, getting up and shoving them into a drawer. She stood, facing away from Sara for a moment, and Sara was sure her own surprise was written on her face. Ivy spoke, still turned away from Sara, her voice breaking on a word or two,

“I’m sorry Sara but I think you should leave.” She whispered the last few words, struggling to get them out of her own mouth, clearing her throat once they were said. Sara got a grip of herself and got up, grabbing her supplies and reaching for the door.

“I’m sorry if I offended you miss, and I’m sorry I didn’t clean your room. You won’t see me again.” She said. Ivy flinched when Sara called her miss, but only nodded once Sara had finished speaking, without a word, and Sara left the room. She leaned up against the door and slid down, bringing her knees to her hands. What had she done? Her head was reeling with all of the things she must have said, must of done to make Ivy want her to leave. There were so many things she did that were inappropriate, she probably hated Sara since the beginning because of her lack of respect, and was just being nice until Sara really crossed the line, she buried the heels of her hands in her eyes, wrapping her fingers around her head and squeezing it, in a vain attempt to make the thoughts go away. Little did Sara know, in the room she had just left, Ivy was crouched in the same position, small tears rolling down her face.

For a week, Ivy avoided Sara like the plague. She passed her quickly in the corridors, never emerged from her room unless crucially necessary, and never went out on her balcony anymore. Sara was no better, miserably dragging herself about, doing chores with the vigor and stamina of a dying sloth. Philip went to see her once, but she couldn’t face him, so she declined on account of her health. She must be sick, why else would she be so uncharacteristically out of her mind? The days felt like weeks and the hours felt like days, until finally her mother said something on one of her visits.

“Child, why are you so down? Did Philip do something to you?” Sara rolled over to her side on the bed she laid on, facing away from her mother.

“No mom,” Sara’s words were muffled into her pillow, “Philip didn’t do anything. Nobody did anything.” Sara’s mother raised her eyebrow in disbelief, and walked over to sit on the side of Sara’s bed, placing a gentle hand on Sara’s hip.

“Then what is it? Don’t lie to your mother. Even though I hardly see you once a year I still know you better than anyone” Sara sighed and turned to face her. She tried to say what was bothering her but she couldn’t. She didn’t even know what it was herself.

“What is it when you feel like your heart falls into your stomach, weighing you down all day, and you don’t want to do anything but see the person that caused it?” Sara said, sniffing. Her mother smiled knowingly, and tapped Sara’s knee affectionately.

“That’s easy. You’re lovesick. I won’t ask you who gave you the feeling, even though I have an inkling, but I’ll tell you this, that’s the kind of sickness that you can’t heal with vitamins and rest. That’s the kind of sickness you either have to repair with the parson who gave it to you, or wait till it goes away. Regrettably, there’s no other way to cure it..” Sara looked at the ceiling. She knew it, in her heart, but she couldn’t admit it. She squeezed her eyes shut, and breathed a heavy sigh. Her mother nodded and smiled empathetically, before shaking her knee and getting up to leave. Her mother was right, Sara knew it. What was a complete mystery to her, and the ultimate source of her torment, was what to do next.

The next day, of course, they ran into each other. Sara was ordered to clean Ivy’s room again and despite her every protest she could not neglect what the cook instructed her to do. He was her boss for the time being. Sara raised her hand and paused, like she had before, this time with much more legitimate grounds. After standing outside the door until the light from the windows turned from yellow to pink and orange, she squeezed her eyes shut and knocked. Initially there was silence, but then a voice said,

“Mother I told you I’m fine. I don’t want to talk right now.” Ivy’s voice was still clear and beautiful like a bell, but it was as if something was lodged inside it, stifling and paining the sound. Sara really didn’t want to do this, but she had to.

“I’m sorry miss but I have to clean your room, I have orders that I must follow. I won’t bother you at all.” She said, keeping her eyes closed and fiddling nervously with the peeling finish on her broom. There was another pause, but then Sara heard shuffling of several sheets of paper into a stack, the opening and closing of a drawer, footsteps and the unlocking of the door. It opened to reveal Ivy, but not how Sara remembered her. Her eyes were tired, with heavy bags under them, her skin was ghostly, and her lips were cracked. Sara got the urge to comfort her, to wipe the sadness off of her face. This time though, she really knew she couldn’t overstep her boundaries.

“I have to clean miss.” Sara said again. Stupid. Ivy obviously knew that why did she repeat it. Ivy nodded meekly and went to sit on her bed. She didn’t have any of her drawings on the bed or the table like last time. That was probably why the drawer opened and closed. Sara cleaned quietly for a few minutes before Ivy broke the silence.

“How…How have you been?” She said, voice hoarse and breaking again. Sara looked up and then down again. Don’t make too much eye contact it will freak her out.

“Fine. I got a bit sicker now with…. something. Symptoms are quite unusual, not sure what it is,” Sara lied and scrubbed the floor harder.

“What kind of symptoms?” Ivy said, not looking at her. Sara paused, opening her mouth, then closing it, then opening it again,

“Headaches, racing thoughts, lightheadedness, and a strange sensation in my stomach like butterflies flapping their wings. There’s mental symptoms too, its making me dizzy, can’t think straight or concentrate, can only focus on…” Sara cleared her throat. “Odd. Very very odd.” Sara didn’t know why she was now scrubbing so hard at this one spot of floor. She looked up, and Ivy was looking at her like she had grown a second head. Sara stared back, a bit confused, when she saw Ivy’s eyes begin to water. Ivy looked down abruptly, and Sara followed suit, continuing with her nonsensical scrubbing. There was a long silence, before Sara heard a whisper she barely comprehended.

“I think you gave it to me too.” Ivy looked up at her, seeming to regret what she had said. Sara looked back, trying to conceive the impossible idea that was Ivy feeling the same way. Sara slowly got up, and walked over to her. She stood in front of Ivy for a minute, looking in her eyes, trying to make sure this was what she wanted. Finally, Ivy grabbed the back of Sara’s neck and pulled her into a kiss. It was like the universe exploded. Sara was kissing Ivy and Ivy was kissing back. Sara put her hands on the sides of Ivy’s face and Ivy wrapped her arms around Sara’s waist and pulled her closer. Sara was having a hard time believing this was happening, or what exactly was happening, but before she could think she was stumbling back onto Ivy’s bed and Ivy was on top of her. Sara beamed and flipped them over, so Ivy was underneath, smiling at her with LOVE, she could finally say it, love in her eyes. She wanted this moment to be painted and framed, to never forget how Ivy looked with her lips red and her hair sprawled on the pillow, smiling at Sara like she was the only person in the world.

An hour later, Ivy was lying on Sara’s shoulder, and Sara could not stop looking down at her. She felt as though she had become the richest woman alive, she was going to rule the world, like she never wanted to leave this bed. Ivy looked up at her, smiling shyly, her eyes clear enough to see all the beauty of her mind. Sara didn’t deserve this. What had she ever done to deserve this? This was better than anything Sara could imagine. She put her hand on Ivy’s shoulder, feeling where skin met the fabric of her dress, unable to help herself from wanting more, but still unsure of what more even meant. The touch made Ivy smile wider, and Sara kissed her forehead. Ivy scrunched her eyes closed and hummed, nudging herself deeper into the crook of Sara’s neck. Sara ran her hands through Ivy’s hair, not wanting to say what she had to say. She kissed by Ivy’s neck up to her ear and whispered,

“I’m sorry Ivy, but I have to go.” Ivy opened her eyes and sat up, searching Sara’s face for signs of regret or discomfort. Sara couldn’t help but find this adorable, and leaned in to kiss her, smiling despite herself and holding the sides of Ivy’s face. Ivy was smiling too.

“I know.” Ivy sighed, a bit of sadness visible in her eyes.

“Hey,” Sara said, placing a finger under Ivy’s chin to lift it up. Sara raised her eyebrows jokingly, and smiled warmly. Ivy got the message because she smiled too, raising her hand to interlace with Sara’s. She kissed Ivy’s forehead again, and got up to leave. Ivy still held her hand tightly; not letting go, instead tugging Sara back on top of her. Sara smiled and shook her head, saying with kisses in between words. “As much,” kiss, “as I’d,” kiss, “love to stay,” kiss, “I must go. They’ll be wondering where I am.” Ivy nodded and brought her hands to lace together behind Sara’s neck.

“Go,” Ivy said, “don’t make any other girls fall for you on your way down to the kitchen.” Sara laughed hardily and kissed Ivy’s nose.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sara giggled, grabbing her things and hurrying for the door, “Bye for now.” She walked out and moved to close the door, but before she closed it she peaked in again, seeing Ivy smiling and laughing to herself, falling back down on the bed, grabbing a pillow and briefly shrieking into it. Sara beamed and closed the door quietly. She felt like she had to pour the bucket of now ice-cold water on her head to make sure that this was real life. She hurried down the corridor, looking back three times at the closed door before turning the corner into the staircase. For the rest of the day she did twice the chores she needed to get done, and sang to herself the entire time. In the night, when everyone in the castle was asleep and right before she was allowed to leave, Sara made her way to the ballroom, her last room to clean. She was polishing a coat hanger, when music started to play in her head again, as it had the entire day. She placed the hanger a ways away, grabbed a red hat with feathers on either side that reminded her of Ivy’s hair, and placed it delicately on the top hook where her head would be. Then, she got a coat that looked like a dress Ivy wore the day she arrived, and draped it over the hanger, buttoning it in the front so it stayed on. Sara placed the coat hanger a few feet in front of her, and stepped away. She looked around nonchalantly, then looked towards the coat hanger.

“Me?” She said in a whisper, afraid to wake anyone, placing a hand on her chest in feigned surprise. Sara looked behind her and then back to the hanger. She shrugged, and took the hanger in her hands, using one of the branches as an arm and curtseying. She then grabbed it and took one of the “arms,” picking up the hanger and engaging it in a waltz. She used ridiculous footing and terrible form, but grinned to herself like a sucker the whole time. After a while, she heard a small giggle from the corner of the room. Afraid she might have woken someone, she turned quickly, ready to apologize, only to find Ivy leaning against the doorframe, starting to walk slowly over to her. A grin spread across Sara’s face. She put down the hanger, and curtseyed. “It has been a pleasure coat hanger Ivy, but if you will kindly excuse me, I’m going to dance with real Ivy.” With that, Sara abruptly turned, grabbed Ivy’s hand, and continued dancing. Ivy was doing her best to contain her hysterical laughter, and Sara mimicked the very serious and distinguished facial expression she had seen on every old man at every ball ever held at the castle, eventually breaking into a grin. Ivy got the hang of the ridiculous footwork after a few beats, trying in vain to mirror the serious expression over her giggling. Sara stopped and twirled Ivy out, then back in, standing behind her and holding her hand. Ivy turned her head and smiled warmly, her face only millimeters from Sara’s. Sara touched their foreheads together and ghosted her lips over Ivy’s when…

“Ivy! What are you DOing?” came from the corner of the room where Ivy once stood. It was her little brother, Robert, who was laughing hysterically at the sight. Both Ivy and Sara simultaneously let go and stepped away from each other, but Robert continued to laugh. Both the girls’ expressions immediately dropped, no longer joyful and loving but instead frightened and guilty. Ivy looked at Sara apologetically and made her way over to Robert, telling him to get back to bed. Before they disappeared into the stairway, Ivy glanced back at Sara again, weakly smiling, and in an instant she was gone. Sara was left in the Ballroom, staring at the people who were no longer there. She stood for a long time, eventually shaking her head and leaving hastily, a frown permeating her face.

The morning after the incident, Sara was on her way to work through the gardens, when a hand reached out and pulled her behind a bush. Before Sara could understand what was happening she was nose to nose with Ivy, which despite everything made her smile and sigh in relief. She also soon noticed the leaves and sticks pushing into her hair and poking her ears, but she ignored them.

“You don’t need to worry about Robert, I told him what it ‘really’ was. Now he thinks you were helping get a knot out of my hair.” Ivy said, leaning in even closer. Sara was trying to focus on the conversation but it was not an easy task with Ivy this close.

“Uh yeah. Wait what? Where was the comb? And why in a ballroom of all places?” Sara said.

“He didn’t see it. And girls are weird.” Ivy replied through laughs, and Sara couldn’t help but laugh too. It never had to be funny, but whenever Ivy laughed, the giggles were contagious to Sara. Then the queen spoke from a ways away, probably from the front doors of the house.

“Ivy! Where are you?” Ivy rolled her eyes.

“I’ll be right there mother!” She said, looking up in annoyance. Ivy looked back at Sara, gave her a quick kiss and said, “see you later.” With that she was off, and Sara was left leaning against a shrub, sure that it was the only thing preventing her from falling flat down on the grass. After a minute she composed herself and stepped out again, resuming her previously uneventful walk to the house. Sara thought to herself, ‘Red really was a beautiful color, wasn’t it’

Every day for the next two weeks, Sara went to ‘clean’ Ivy’s room. It really was getting quite messy up there. When Sara was cleaning, cooking, or doing chores while Ivy was around, the two would constantly exchange glances. Sometimes if no one was around, Ivy helped Sara with her chores. They would pass the time in gazes and in listing off their favorite books. Many of Sara’s favorites mirrored Philip’s taste, but she loved them all the same. One second of Ivy looking at Sara with that beautiful grin and that gleam in her eye could power Sara for the rest of her life, but she considered herself the luckiest woman on earth because she got to see that smile every day. One afternoon, lying on Ivy’s bed, Sara got a pleasant surprise. They lay there together as always, when Ivy looked up at her suddenly, and smiled.

“I want to show you something.” Sara glanced down to meet her gaze and raised her eyebrows. Ivy looked giddy, about to give away a big secret. Sara was intrigued, and kept her hands around Ivy’s waist as she sat up, resting her head against Ivy’s bare shoulder as Ivy fiddled with something on her nightstand. When Sara looked up, she saw Ivy’s porcelain hands opening the drawer from that first time Sara had sat on this bed. She shot up to a fully erect position, leaning in closer to see what was in the illusive drawer. When Ivy opened the drawer, all that was inside was a stack of parchment. Ivy turned around to face Sara, looking bewildered, kissed her, and gently placed the parchment onto her lap. Ivy smiled excitedly, signaling Sara to look at the parchment. At first, flipping through the pages, she saw only the pictures that she had seen the first day, the landscapes and illustrations of the castle. Then, she reached the last image, right before Ivy had snatched the papers from her hands. She looked up at Ivy, silently asking permission. Ivy smiled and exhaled, exasperated, then flipped the page herself. What was on the paper gave Sara chills. It was a pair of eyes that she recognized, for they were her own. There were three sets of them on the page, one looking ahead, another looking to the left, and the last scrunched up at the cheeks, the way they did when she smiled. Sara couldn’t process this. The date said the August 3^rd, which was the day that Sara met Ivy, when she still didn’t know Ivy’s name, so she called her the angel. She flipped to the next page, dated the 4^th, a pair of hands with the same burn mark Sara had received on the knuckle of her left thumb when she was 7 and ill-prepared to use a frying pan. The next page dated the 5^th, Sara’s lips. Next page, dated the 6^th, Sara’s hair, neck and shoulders. Next page, the 7^th, Sara’s smile. Next page, the 8^th, the day that changed her life forever, there was a beautifully detailed sketch of Sara’s whole face, neck and shoulders, looking ahead and smiling warmly. Next pages, Sara in various stages of laughing, one of Sara doing the serious expression she used when dancing with Ivy, another one of Sara dancing with the coat hanger, her hair in swing and her dress brushing the floor. One drawing of the curves of Sara’s back as she lay on the bed facing away, with a line down her spine and her hair falling on the pillow. The last, of course, was her favorite. It was of Sara, but Ivy too. They were lying in bed together, facing one another. Sara was doing her favorite thing to do, cupping Ivy’s face softly, and looking into her eyes. Ivy was smiling, but the parchment oddly seemed to give Sara too much credit in beauty, while not awarding Ivy nearly the justice of gorgeousness she deserved. They were all beautiful, and Sara could not find the words to express how much she loved every one. Instead, she just looked at Ivy, who was biting her lip in anticipation. With watering eyes, Sara tackled Ivy onto the bed, showering her in kisses. Ivy, who she knew was ticklish, was giggling like crazy, with her legs wrapped around Sara’s waist and her arms around Sara’s neck. Sara stopped and looked down at Ivy, debating whether she should say what was on her mind.

“I love you,” she said before she could stop herself, and Ivy’s eyes widened. After a moment of silence, Ivy smiled again and leaned in to kiss Sara.

“I love you too.”

Sara fell asleep with Ivy’s arms wrapped around her hips, and her leg draped over Ivy’s body. She woke up in the same blissful position, and she did nothing but grin at the treasure she held in her arms, worth more than any sum of money or gold that someone may possess. Soon however, Sara realized where she was, and at what time. She shot up, waking Ivy, beginning to clumsily throw on her clothes. Ivy was groggy and confused, but she soon realized the time as well and hurried Sara along.

“You must find a way to be less beautiful and wonderful it is truly meddling with my chore schedule.” Sara said, while tugging on an old boot. Ivy grinned with one side of her lips, but continued to give Sara articles of clothing that had been strewn about the room. She hurried for the door, thinking to herself that she was really getting sick of doing this. “Maybe I could just…” Sara said, turning back, making Ivy laugh.

“Get out you dolt, just because I love you doesn’t mean you can parade about under the charade of a simpleton.” Ivy declared, giggling in between words. Sara nodded and opened the door. She turned back once more and said,

“Could you say it again?” Ivy smiled and locked eyes with Sara.

“I love you.” Sara smiled and turned back towards the door.

“Maybe just one more time”

“Get ouutt!!” Ivy said, laughing hard now, and throwing a pillow at Sara for good measure and falling down on the bed as she threw it. Sara smiled again and finally shut the door.

As Sara walked down the corridor, Philip turned the corner from the staircase. They locked gaze and Sara’s eyes grew to the size of wheels. She hadn’t really talked to him since he kissed her… kissing… kissing Ivy, kissing Ivy, kissing Ivy, stop! Back on track. She really needed to work on focusing on other things. Philip was looking at her with curiosity, a bit of shielded pain, and confusion. Despite his buzzing brain, he calmly nodded and bowed to her,

“Sara.”

“Philip.”

There was a pause.

“What are you doing in front of Ivy’s room?”

“Who?”

“Ivy, my sister. That’s her name.”

“Oh yes. I heard it before, just slipped my mind. Uh, I was working on polishing the windows so long last night I fell asleep! Ridiculous I know. I woke up this morning surprised to say the least.” She cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows because she certainly had.

“Uh, sorry about that.”

“Thanks.”

……

“Yeah so I’ve got to go, chores are done and I never checked out with the cook.”

“Oh yes of course sorry, didn’t mean to keep you.”

“No don’t fret its completely alright…….. Okay! Well I suppose I’ll be seeing you around.” Sara smiled politely again and walked past him, but she felt him grab her wrist. She looked down at the hand and back up at him, who was staring back. His eyes were pleading, what are you not telling me, why don’t you want me, they said. Sara felt tears coming to her eyes. She couldn’t tell her best friend, the only person, well previously the only person, she trusted the amazing and terrifying development that had taken over her life. She hated that she was hurting him, she wanted nothing more than to talk to him but she knew she couldn’t. She felt a tear escape the corner of her eye.

“I’m sorry Philip.” She whispered, removing her hand from Philip’s grasp and continuing down the corridor, giving him one last glance before disappearing. She held the wrist Philip had grabbed with her other hand, bringing it to her chest and closing her eyes as she descended the staircase. Philip’s suspicion and vendetta grew the more she rejected and confused him. She loved him, of course, but not in the way he loved her, and his possessive nature began to show through his polite exterior.

That night, Philip went outside into the fields, eventually finding himself leaning against Sara’s hut, where just over two weeks ago, he sat with her like they always had. He wondered and wondered what could have happened to change everything so much, surely it wasn’t the kiss, that may have freaked her out but not to the degree she seemed to panic this afternoon. He remembered her peculiar gaze to Ivy’s window, and her odd behavior when he brought her up today. He looked up to her window again, hoping to find some clue, and he did. In the corner of the window, he saw two shadows, both with long flowing hair, and both with slender waists that curved in the way that, anatomically, only women’s backs curved. The shadows were intertwined, their heads close together and tilted, hands buried in hair. Philip leapt up and stared in pure disbelief, his jaw unhinged. He did not understand what he was seeing until a familiar figure went to blow out the candle. It was Sara, wearing only her corset, and once she blew out the candle, the moonlight still illuminated her face. She stared up at it, and after a moment Ivy came up behind her, putting her hands around her waist. Sara smiled and held Ivy’s hands where they rested, Ivy kissed her shoulder and she smiled wider than he had ever seen her smile. Sara turned around to face her, holding Ivy’s hands so they stayed on her waist, and leaned in to kiss her on the lips. They both giggled and disappeared from Philip’s view. He had heard once of perversions like this, and it angered him to his core. What infuriated him the most was seeing someone else hold Sara like he wanted to hold Sara, and to see love in her eyes for not only someone else, but another girl! Tears stung the corners of his eyes and he knew what he had to do.

The next morning, Philip told everyone, including the town priest. Before Sara or Ivy had woken to see the sun that day, the town was rioting in protest. As soon as the king and queen found out, the lovers’ fate was sealed.

Sara woke abruptly from her sleep with the sound of the door slamming open, and the queen screaming. She looked down at Ivy, who jumped up upon seeing her parents. It all seemed to happen in slow motion, without a sound. Sara saw the queen’s mouth moving, open wide and shrieking something, paired with the shouts of the king, but she couldn’t hear a thing. She saw Ivy screaming at her parents as well, saying something about true love and happiness. Before Sara could say a word, she felt hands around her waist, but not the slender, warm hands she knew, big, cold hands with muscles straining, lifting her from the bed. She was yelling now too, fighting against the hands dragging her away from her angel, her Ivy. Ivy’s face was changing into an expression she had never seen before, an expression that she didn’t like. Ivy was terrified, shaking, tears streaming down her face. Sara needed to comfort her, she needed to hold her and make her laugh again. Through her crying and panic Ivy reached out her hand to Sara, who grabbed it, but this only made the hands pull harder, until she was torn away. That was when sound and time went back to normal, and she heard Ivy scream “no,” with the despair and desolation of a thousand heartbreaks, begging her father to let Sara go. Then Sara heard something that made her heart shatter even more than it had already from the lips of the queen, “Philip told us everything!”

The betrayal, the pain was almost too much to bear. Ivy didn’t seem to register this, but it was tearing at Sara. Sara grabbed hold of the doorframe on the way out, but she could not hold on as the king hauled her down the corridor. As he took her away, Sara could hear Ivy screaming her name and crying, Sara screamed back but it was no use. Ivy ran into the corridor to stand by her door, but the queen shouted at her to stay put or else. Ivy cried harder and slid to the floor on the wall, grasping the peeling the old wallpaper with both hands, as if she was trying to hold on as the world spun too quickly around her. As the image of Ivy clutching the wall disappeared behind the entrance to the stairwell, Sara knew that she might never see her again.

After what felt like hours of curling up in the corner, Ivy tried in vain to breathe, but ended up hyperventilating as she stood up on shaky legs, grasping the doorframe for support. On instinct she looked up, and was met with the eyes of her brother, standing in the entrance to the stairwell, where Sara had just disappeared. The calmness of his face made her realize it was he who had betrayed them, who took Sara away from her. The realization dawned on her like a great shadow being cast upon a grassy meadow as she remembered the words of her mother that she hadn’t heard the first time. Her crying ceased as she stumbled backward, trying to process everything that had happened, trying to breathe, breathe, just breathe, breathe.

But she couldn’t. The events of this morning had knocked the wind out of her. Philip tried to come closer but Ivy only stepped further back, trying to stop herself from punching him, from killing him right there. She almost did, but it was too much, she couldn’t get it all through her skull, the grief overwhelmed her. All she could do was look at Philip, with hurt, betrayal, and heartbreak in her eyes, before crawling back into her room and shutting the door.

At the same time, Sara was being dragged to the dungeon by the king, kicking and screaming the whole way down. She shouted and shouted, pounding on the kings back as hard as she could through her sobs, before finally being thrown down a short flight of stone steps into her cell, landing hard on the floor and rolling until she hit the wall. She cried out in pain, tasting the blood in her mouth and feeling the bruises on her face. The king went to close the door but she scrambled up, clutching her right rib, feeling like it might be broken, but fell again. She couldn’t stand. He stood with the door open and she could no longer able to tell whether the hot liquid running down like streams on her face were tears or clots of blood.

“You won’t do this. You can’t do this to her. Do whatever you want to me but lay a hand on her and you will wish you had never been born,” Sara said, throwing her words like venom and spitting out blood as she spoke. The king did nothing but laugh a hardy laugh.

“Lets remember you little perverted w***e, who is in the cage, and who has the keys to the kingdom.” He said, a smile permeating his sinister face, laughing again as he locked the cell door and walked up the steps. As the final door to the dungeon shut, Sara was left in the dark.

For days, Ivy didn’t sleep, drink, draw, or eat. She locked herself in her room and lied on her bed, tracing her hands over the sheets that had once been occupied by her lovely Sara, or looking at the drawings and tracing the lines like Sara had when she had shown them to her. She couldn’t bring herself to move sometimes, she just rocked herself and breathed hard until she no longer felt like water was filling her lungs.

For days, Sara couldn’t eat, move, or sleep. She was locked in her cell in the dark for days, doing nothing but scratching swirls and sketches of eyes and lips on the floor, lying down against the cold stone wall, imagining that Ivy was sleeping beside her, placing her own bloody, unwashed hair against her shoulder, where Ivy’s hair tended to rest when they slept. She couldn’t bring herself to breathe sometimes, rocking herself to sleep to try and stop the tears and holding the air in her lungs until she had to take a breath to pass the hours.

After three days had passed, slower than any others in both of their lives, the doors unlocked and opened to reveal one of the people that had taken away their happiness. In Sara’s cell, the king stood strong and tall, casting a shadow over her body from the light shining behind him, with a knight by his side. The knight grabbed her and cuffed her hands behind her back, the cold metal digging into her skin. He held a small dagger to her back, making her inhale sharply, and motioned for her to go up the stairs. Sara closed her eyes and began walking, unsure of what would await her.

After walking up the stairs and out of the dungeon, the King led them both to the throne room, taking a seat as his throne with a cocky raise of his eyebrow. The throne room was filled with royals, extended family, prestigious members of society, advisors, and Philip, with a serious expression on his face usually only reserved for when the queen scolded him. Sara could have killed him right then. Among them was a beauty, the angel among mortals, and the star among blackness, her Ivy. Sara lit up when she saw her, and tried to run to her, but the knight grabbed her back and threw her on the floor in the middle of the room, in the center of the circle formed by those in attendance. Everyone backed away from her quickly, murmuring amongst themselves about the perversion that Sara had supposedly coursing through her veins. Ivy noticed this, along with the bruised and cuts and blood stains on Sara’s face, resisting the urge with all her might to kill anyone who had hurt Sara. Philip seemed to notice it to, first expressing anger, but soon smoothing out his face, swallowing hard, and adjusting his collar. Despite everything, Sara could do nothing but stare at Ivy, apologetically, lovingly, and unconditionally. She tried her best to send one last message to her love through only her face, ‘do not weep for me after years have gone by, let yourself love again, I will always love you, and I’m so sorry this happened to us’

Ivy seemed to understand the message, nodding with tears coming to her eyes. Ivy spoke back, ‘I love you too, more than anything, but you’re not gone yet.’ This alarmed Sara, ‘Ivy no, don’t do anything stupid,’ she tried to say, shaking her head vigorously, but Ivy was no longer looking at her. The King spoke,

“We are here to decide the fate of this perverted harlot who has brutally forced herself upon my daughter. Does anyone have any suggestions before I make my decision?” Sara hung her head, but looked up when she heard the click of heels walking across the floor. Her head jolted up to see Ivy walking out to the middle of the floor. The King was clearly fuming, but he held back his knights, waiting for her to speak. Ivy stopped, a short distance away from Sara, using all her willpower not to lean down and touch Sara’s face, to heal every wound with love. She instead looked up at the King and cleared her throat.

“Your grace. I require nothing from you but to harm Sar- the girl no more than you already have. I have mercy still for her and ask you to have the same empathy. She knew not what she was doing, she did not hurt me, and I hold no grudge against her. If you believe a punishment is in order, you have every right to exercise your power, but I ask you to banish her if you must, send her to Italy, the Alps, Romania, anywhere you see fit. Just don’t-“ Ivy’s voice broke there, “Don’t hurt her.” The king paused for a moment, and then began to laugh. Philip looked at him, then back at Ivy and Sara with worry on his face. Tears began to come to Ivy’s eyes once more, and her expression was permeated with anticipation, with desperate hope, struggling to keep her composure.

“Any other absurd requests while we are on the subject?” The king said, and there was silence in the crowd, “Brilliant. Well, I have made my decision. The girl shall be executed tomorrow morn.” Philip jumped to attention, his eyes widening and inhaling sharply.

“Father!” Philip said, with what Sara could only label as shock. The king only looked at him sternly in response, but his dismay and concern did not fade when he looked back over at the heartbreaking scene in the center of the room. Ivy had jumped as well, running over to Sara and wrapping her arms around her.

“You have to get out of here you have to get out. You can’t die you can’t!” Ivy was crying hysterically, trying to breathe, but Sara only looked up with a few lone tears dripping down her cheeks and a pained smile on her face. She wiped the tears from Ivy’s face and said only this,

“I love you, my angel. Please don’t forget me.” Ivy cried harder and held Sara’s hand on her face. In an instant the Knight had grabbed Sara again and another got Ivy, who was kicking and screaming against the guard, her veins streaming and limbs punching at anything she could reach.

“STOP! Let go of me please please you have to let go,” Sara was being dragged out as well, saying,

“I’m sorry Ivy,” before disappearing behind the corner. Ivy wept and wept, screaming,

“No! You have to let me go please!” Ivy stopped fighting, falling limp and succumbing to her own hysteria as Sara disappeared, the knight finally letting her go only for her to slide to the floor, her dress pooling around her and her tears consuming her. For good measure, the knight kicked her, making her cry harder. Ivy would never again see the face of the girl she loved; she may never find someone else again. She could never hold her again, she couldn’t lie on her bed and measure the moon with her, and she couldn’t look into her eyes, she couldn’t show her drawings just to see her smile. She couldn’t love her. Ivy had lost Sara forever.

Philip watched it all, growing more horrified with every second passing. His sister and his best friend, both of whom he loved, both had their happiness ripped brutally from their hands in the most ruthless way he could imagine. He looked at Ivy, crumpled on the floor, broken. What a mistake he had made. He remembered when he had first discovered them, how they looked at each other. At the time it only infuriated him, but now he focused on the love there, how he had never seen love like that, not even in his mother and father. He had killed that beauty; he was killing the girl he loved on account of his own selfishness and petty rage. After the court had cleared, he walked cautiously over to Ivy, still hunched on the floor. He rushed over to the window and picked up a lone blanket, draping it over her shoulders. Ivy didn’t look up at him, but took the blanket and held it close, staring at the spot on the floor where Sara once kneeled. He sat beside her and timidly placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to flinch and look up at him. Once she saw his face, she flinched away, trying to hide the emotions overwhelming her expression. He shut his eyes and breathed out, still unsure, but he spoke anyway,

“Ivy. I cannot apologize enough for the pain and chaos that I have caused you, believe me it was unconsciously done. I own to my misjudgment and petty rage upon my discovery of the truth completely, but I would never deliberately aim to hurt my sister and my closest friend this way. You may chose to forgive me, or you may tell me to never speak to you again. It is your choice. However, I do have a plan to help Sara and you escape this place and live out the rest of your days together.”

Ivy looked up, hopeful at his mention of escape. She eyed him suspiciously, studying the creases of his outstretched hand for some sign of disloyalty, finally taking it warily. Philip nodded to her gratefully, and led her out of the room, daring to put a hand over her shoulder to bring her into a half embrace as they walked. He was her brother after all, and she had no one else to seek comfort from in this great time of distress. She now had hope though, for if anyone knew this castle like the back of their palm it was Philip.

It had been a day since she had seen Ivy in the ballroom, and the look on her face might very well haunt Sara for the rest of her days. Then again, her days included only those between now and 48 hours from now. Suddenly, she saw a light, entering her room under the door crease and through the small barred hole at eye level. Sara eyed it skeptically, struggling to stand with her injuries that still stiffened her legs and spine. She held the wall for support, and slowly ventured towards the exit, but fell back with the impact of the door being burst open. She covered her eyes with the spare wood shards flying, not with enough force to impale her but enough to leave a bruise. When she drew back her arms, she saw two figures silhouetted in the light. It was not the king, but a smaller and thinner male gait with a less ostentatious crown. This figure could only be Philip. The figure beside him was one she couldn’t believe she saw. With hair on fire and a virtuous silhouette it could only be… but it couldn’t possibly! The figure stepped forward and into the light, revealing porcelain skin and piercing eyes. It was her love, her Ivy. Sara stood immediately disregarding the pain she felt, and stepped towards her. Sara put her hand on Ivy’s face, feeling her jaw and her neck, remembering every line and curve, making sure it was she. Ivy teared up again too, and could hardly stop herself from leaping into Sara’s arms, arms wrapped tight around one another, softly crying, this time tears of joy.

“You came back,” Sara cried into Ivy’s shoulder. Ivy pulled back and placed her palms on the sides of Sara’s face, bringing it forward and touching their foreheads together.

“Of course I came back. I love you Sara.” Sara kissed her twice quickly, aware of Philip’s presence, then embraced her again. After a moment, Sara let Ivy go with an extra squeeze for good measure to face Philip. Pure rage and betrayal spread across her face and she started to walk towards him, but Ivy put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “He’s on our side, he knows how we can escape.”

Feeling the need to speak for himself, Philip cautiously stepped in. “I am so sorry for everything that I have done, I truly never wanted to hurt you, I just was overcome by jealousy and anger at something I didn’t understand. I still love you Sara, but that means that I care about your happiness. If Ivy can make you happy, and if this is how I can make up my terrible misjudgment, then I will do everything I can to help.” Sara stared at Philip the same way Ivy had, with unrelenting suspicion, yet she couldn’t help but remember everything they had done together, everything they meant to each other. She knew that Philip would never deliberately hurt her, but it was so typical of him to throw a tantrum like this and feel bad about it. Despite everything, Sara trusted him once again. Sara nodded to him and both Ivy and Philip exhaled in relief.

“Thank you. Now, I already told Ivy the plan, and she thinks it sounds good. We are going to use the dungeon tunnels to get out, it’s far too risky to try and escape through the front door, way too many guards. However, there will be guards down here as well so we have to be willing to get through them.” Philip said, motioning down the dark hallway with his hand. Ivy rolled her eyes at his final remark,

“That won’t be an issue,” she said, a mischievous glimmer in her eye. Sara smirked at Ivy then looked back at Philip, nodding to give her approval. Her throat still hurt from screaming and dehydration. She put her arm around Ivy and leaned, needing support from her to walk with her possibly broken ankle. Sara knew she shouldn’t have skimmed through the anatomy and medical books Philip gave her. With that, the three took down the hall, Sara hobbling forward as fast as she could. It didn’t take much time to encounter some guards. There were three of them, sitting at a table drinking rum. That would be an advantage. Philip stood quietly for a moment as they all stood up, shouting various nonsensical questions about why they were there. After they had all stood, Philip flipped the table to distract them, swiftly taking all of them out without much difficulty. He checked the maze of hallways for more guards, then he waved at Ivy and Sara to follow. They took off again. It took what seemed like hours of turning, winding, following identical walls, slaying small groups of drunken guards, and descending stairs to reach the end of the wine cellar tunnels, but of course there were several dozen guards posted at the exit to make sure no lucky prisoner that found their way through was able to escape. Philip motioned for Ivy and Sara to stay back, as he cautiously approached the soldiers.

“Gentlemen, let me pass.”

“Sorry Prince Philip, the King gave orders. No one goes in or out of this exit because of the prisoner.”

“James please this is just the shortcut to my horse, I don’t want to deal with my father or wailing mother today.”

“You’re going to haveta go back up my prince, can’t let ya through here.”

Philip rolled his eyes and sighed, tapping his foot. Of course he would use the spoiled brat technique. The guards stayed put. Philip heaved a heavy sigh.

“Well you leave me no choice.” With that, he pulled out his sword, its bloody exterior covered by its sheathe. The guards stumbled back and drew as well, keeping their swords low to the ground.

“Prince Philip, don’t do anything rash now.”

“I really don’t want to James but you see it took me so long to weave through these impossible tunnels what is the difference if you let me through huh? The prisoner hasn’t escaped her cell, I saw her when I came down here. If by some miracle she got out and followed me here without making so much of a sound, and hiding when I looked back, you would slay her with your swords before she could get through. You don’t even have to make an opening I will squeeze through you if you do not resist me.” He paused. “Honestly, what is the worst that could happen?” James hesitated, glanced down the hallway, and silently nodded. Philip squeezed through, and the lovers began to wonder if he was going to leave them there. They couldn’t peak past the corner, they would surely be spotted, so they could only wait, holding their breath, for the signal. Suddenly, Sara and Ivy heard the sound of flesh being severed. The guards began screaming and the sounds continued, broken only by shouts of agony. Sara strained to hear Philip’s voice among the panic and colliding of swords, before finally hearing him scream in pain. Ivy knew the sound, and was made certain by how Sara’s body froze up when the noise pierced the air. With that, Ivy grabbed the sword she swiped from a guard a ways back and ran into the fight. Sara cried out for her to stay, but Ivy just ran. Sara couldn’t help but wince at all the noise being made, praying that someone in the big house didn’t hear the shouts. She couldn’t help but look around the corner, to see a wounded Philip holding a gash on his leg and Ivy, slaying knights left and right. Ivy out-sworded the remaining 10 knights, and as the last one fell down dead, Sara ran to Philip’s side.

“It is nothing. Go on, I’ll be close behind.” He said, staggering up with the support of the wall. Ivy went to support Sara again, but Sara shooed her off to help Philip. They all stumbled out the door, finding the two horses outside. Philip mounted his own horse, but Ivy had to cut one from the carriage. She helped Sara on, then mounted the horse herself. Ivy couldn’t help but grin to herself as the horse began to gallop away, feeling the taste of freedom on the tip of her tongue. Sara held on tight from the back, wrapping arms around Ivy’s waist and resting her cheek on Ivy’s back. They both finally felt at home again. Sara looked back, checking that Philip had followed them, and spotted something out of the corner of her eye.

“PHILIP LOOK OUT!” Sara shouted, and as Ivy whipped her head back, she only saw Philip’s eyes widen as an arrow pierced his throat. Philip’s face froze, locking eyes with a crying Sara. Sara screamed on impact, and as Philip slid off his horse, she began hyperventilating.

“Ivy stop you have to stop he’s dying!” She babbled on but Ivy knew she had to keep riding, following the route of the arrow to find the King taking aim from a balcony. Upon spotting him Ivy quickened her pace, dodging the flying arrows coursing through the air. As the king ran out of ammo and they were exiting the gates Ivy looked back again, tears forming in her eyes and breathing heavily, trying process the tragedy. She exhaled sharply as she caught a shaky glimpse of Philip, lying on the ground bleeding and lifeless. Sara was overflowing with tears, not taking her eyes off Philip’s bloody corpse. She could do nothing but picture growing up with him, every conversation by the creek, every time she irritated him with mispronouncing words, every time they threw snow at eachother in the winter, or the time Sara had fallen through the ice on the lake and Philip dived in to save her without thinking twice . She looked up at the King, fumbling to load more arrows into his bow with disgust and pure unadulterated hatred.

“You killed him! You’re a monster you b*****d! You killed him…” She couldn’t finish shouting because she knew he was out of voice range, and her voice was breaking. She watched the castle disappear in the fog, along with everything she knew, the only place she had ever been. After a few miles Ivy slowed down and turned back to face Sara, putting one leg up to rest on the horse so she could better see Sara’s face. There were a few lone tears still on Sara’s face, which Ivy sympathetically wiped away. Her hand lingered there, and Sara leaned into it, squeezing her eyes shut, then opening them again. Those beautiful eyes could never fail to make her feel loved no matter what the circumstances. Then, that beautiful clear voice spoke too,

“We’re going to get away okay? We’re going to live in a pretty house where no one will bother us, and where we can spend the rest of our lives together. We have been through so much pain, but we have eachother, and that’s enough.” Ivy stroked Sara’s face with her thumb as she spoke, Sara bringing a hand up to rest on top of Ivy’s affectionately. Sara paused a moment to consider something, then spoke.

“Can we live by the ocean?” She said, innocent and fragile. Ivy felt the tears forming again, this time out of happiness. After all that they had been through, they still had their love. It was so precious, and she was so close to losing it. She never wanted to lose that love, or lose Sara, ever again. Ivy nodded and smiled, her lips quivering as she felt some lone drops falling down her cheeks.

“Yes, we can live by the ocean. We can live anywhere, as long as I have you,” Ivy said, Sara welled up too. People always said that home was a feeling, not a place. She was starting to believe that, because as Ivy brought their heads to touch after placing a light kiss on Sara’s forehead, the sun setting behind them, she felt it.