Chapter Text
As she crawled through the dim and dusty corridors, a wide smile adorned Claudia’s face. Navigating the tight passageways always felt like an adventure to her. The passageways snaked through the castle walls, their very existence probably unknown to most of the castle dwellers. The dim light and the musky smell did not bother Claudia, in fact, it was comforting. It was familiar and safe. It was a place only she knew. A place where she could do and feel as she wished.
The stale air in the passageways slowly gave way to another scent, that of baked goods, which served as Claudia’s guiding beacon. Not that she needed to navigate by smell, she was more than familiar with the route to the kitchen. But it was fun to pretend she was somewhere she had never been. Somewhere else. Anywhere else.
When she turned the final corner and approached the grate which granted access to the kitchen, she made sure to be extra quiet. She could hear the baker at work. What was his name? Darius? It wasn’t important. What was important was that she’d arrived just in time. He had not yet finished baking, which meant that the goodies would be fresh when Claudia got her hands on them.
She was hoping for jelly tarts. Katolian jelly tarts were famous throughout the Pentarchy. Sweet and savoury, flaky and buttery. They were her favourite. She closed her eyes and salivated as she imagined which flavours she’d soon be snacking on. She opened her eyes and shook her head. She had not come to pig-out on pastries. She needed provisions. They were meant to last, all the way to her destination.
When she heard the baker retrieve the tray of pastries from the oven and set them upon the table to cool, Claudia readied herself. She just needed him to step out of the room or at least turn his back for a moment. Luck was on her side, and one of the kitchen assistants called out to the baker from the walk-in pantry for help sorting a box of freshly delivered vegetables.
Claudia wasted no time. She carefully lifted the grate and ambled toward the counter. Her movements appeared synchronized, as she’d done this before. As always, the counter was too high for her to reach, so she slid the stepping stool which was always stored underneath the counter forward. It provided her just enough extra height to peek onto the counter and observe her prize.
Jelly tarts! Just as she’d hoped. She looked over her shoulder to make sure the coast was still clear and then began shovelling the treats into the cloth bag she had brought with her.
One jelly tart. Two jelly tarts. Three. Four.
She heard the rattle of pots and pans behind her and quickly turned her eyes toward the sound. Nobody was there. Maybe they dropped something in the pantry, she thought.
Eight. Nine. Ten.
Ten seemed like a good number. That would be enough, surely. She jumped off the stool and placed it back under the table and quickly retreated into her secret passageway. And not a moment too soon. As soon as she closed the grate, the baker returned to check up on the desserts he had left to cool.
“Hmm,” he said with confusion. “I could have sworn there were two dozen in this batch…”
Claudia smiled as she crept away. The perfect crime.
She wanted to save all of the treats for her journey. She really did. But the smell was so good. Freshly baked jelly tarts were simply irresistible. She bargained with herself. It was probably a good idea to try one. She needed to make sure that they were good, to make sure they would be safe to take with her. She nodded in agreement with herself.
“Yeah, I gotta make sure…” she said and opened her bag of treasures.
The pastry was still warm. She nearly squealed in anticipation. It had been a long time since she’d had a dessert that looked so yummy. It had been a long time since she’d had any dessert. Her father didn’t make time for such things. He didn’t make time for a lot of things. He didn’t make time for her. Not like Mama would, she told herself.
She brought the treat to her nose and inhaled. Her eyes widened when she recognized the aroma.
Moonberries!
Moonberries did not grow in any of the human kingdoms. They only grew in Xadia. Specifically, they only grew in the forested regions inhabited by the Moonshadow elves. These berries had been gathered there and shipped all the way back to Katolis. That meant they were expensive. And more importantly, it meant that they were intended for someone of high status. The king and his family. Only royalty had the privilege to dine on such delicacies.
Claudia chuckled and imagined that she was a princess as she took a big bite. Her kingdom was the little passageways that only she knew. The place where she could be herself. She sat crossed-legged, leaned against the wall, and continued munching on her treat. So far, it had proven satisfactory. They’d be the perfect snack as she made her way. Maybe too perfect. The tarts were big. Too big. The jelly was sticky, and it dripped onto her hands, and she felt it on her chin and around her mouth with each bite. Jelly tarts were a messy affair.
After several big bites, she wrapped her arms around her belly, feeling a stomach-ache coming on. Her father had always warned her about eating too much sugar and getting sick. Maybe he was right, but that only made her determined to eat the whole thing. A look of defiance replaced her smile, and she munched aggressively on the pastry until it was gone.
Afterward, she didn’t want to move. She couldn’t move. Her belly bulged and she moaned, but it was worth it. She let out a burp, followed by a laugh. She needed to get going. She needed to be home before they noticed she was missing.
Claudia opened the door to her family quarters. She made sure to do it slowly to avoid the creaking sound the door always made when swung open too fast. Once she stepped inside, she closed the door with just as much care. She listened closely and then sighed in relief. He wasn’t home yet. He usually didn’t return until late in the evening. He’d spend almost all of his time in the High Mage’s office. Unless, of course, it was to watch and encourage Soren in his training.
Soren.
His first-born son.
His golden boy.
Her.
The spare.
The other one.
Claudia tiptoed toward her room which she shared with her brother, unsure if she would find him inside and waiting for their father to return. When she found the room empty, she dashed over to her bed and slid her bag of pastries underneath for safekeeping.
“You’re lucky this time,” her brother called out from behind.
Claudia turned to find Soren standing in the doorway to their room, his arms folded.
Claudia closed her eyes and huffed. She sensed judgement in Soren’s eyes. She hated when he got that way.
“Clauds, you’re not supposed to leave the quarters without telling Dad. It’s dangerous for little girls in the castle,” Soren scolded.
“I’m not a little girl! I’m almost seven!”
Soren sighed. “Seven is still really little, Clauds. Dad knows best. You should listen to him…” Soren insisted.
Claudia turned her nose up at her brother. He was so wrong. Her father didn’t know best. He didn’t know anything, and he didn’t seem to care either.
“Clauds…” Soren continued, his voice softer. He stepped toward her and landed a hand on her shoulder. “He’ll get better….eventually.”
Claudia didn’t share her brother’s optimism. Her father was getting worse, not better. She could remember how things used to be. Before their mother left. She remembered how her father used to look at her. But he hadn’t looked at her that way in a long, long time. Whenever she stared at him with her green eyes, her mother’s eyes, his gaze hardened, and he’d look away or say something that made her heart hurt. And she hated him for it.
Before Claudia could tell Soren to leave her be, the front door swung open and slow, heavy steps echoed throughout the quarters. Their father was home, and they were expected to greet him.
Claudia and Soren scampered out of their bedroom and made their way toward the living area. They stood side by side with their arms behind their backs and greeted their father.
“Welcome home, Dad,” they said in unison.
Their father placed a bundle of books he had carried from his office upon the small table next to the front door before he landed his gaze upon his offspring. Naturally, he looked to Soren first.
“Soren, my boy! I’m sorry I could not make it to your training this afternoon! I had an unexpected request from the king himself! But I promise, next time I’ll let him know that family comes first!” he said with a smile and a hearty laugh.
“Thanks, Dad!” Soren replied with a grin.
“How was training today? Still at the top of your class, I presume,” their father asked.
“You bet! I’m not gonna be second best!”
“That’s right, my boy, that’s right! There is no room in this life for second place,” he said. His eyes then fell upon Claudia.
Claudia saw anger brewing behind her father’s eyes.
“Claudia…where have you been?” he questioned, each word cold and precise.
“I-I came right home after class. I was in my room the whole time,” she fibbed.
“Is that so?” her father sneered and bent down to her level, and gestured at her face, and her dress. “So, what is this mess?”
Claudia peeked at her dress. It was still covered in jelly, as was her face, which all-of-the-sudden felt sticky again. Her father lifted her hands by the wrist, jelly staining each of her fingers.
“You’ve made a total mess of yourself! It’s all over your hands and clothes!”
“N-No it’s not!” Claudia fired back defiantly.
“Enough! You’ve been caught red-handed. You need to admit what you’ve done!" Viren scolded.
Claudia averted her gaze to the floor. The look in her father’s eyes scared her. Whenever he looked at her like that, she had to turn away.
“I stole a jelly tart…” she confessed.
Viren scowled. “Did I raise you to be a thief?! What do you have to say for yourself?”
Claudia remained silent and pouted. She could feel tears building behind her eyes.
“Answer me!” Viren demanded.
“Claudia, you should say you’re sorry….” Soren said.
“That’s right Soren. She needs to take responsibility and repent for her crimes. I’m happy that one of my children understands the difference between right and wrong.”
Claudia looked at Soren, hurt and betrayal in her eyes. Soren shuffled in discomfort, knowing that he had hurt her feelings. He didn’t mean to team up against her. He just wanted to move past the confrontation.
“I-I’m s-s…” Claudia stuttered, her head lowered, and her eyes settled upon her feet.
“Go on,” Viren insisted after a brief pause.
Claudia lifted her head and stared directly at her father with her sad eyes. In his face, she saw judgement and contempt. The opposite of how a father was supposed to look at his daughter. He didn’t look at her with love in his eyes. Not like Mama would, she told herself.
“I’m not sorry!” she shouted, her fists clenched and steel in her gaze.
Viren fumed.
“Go to your room…” he said coldly.
“I don't wa-”
“Now!” he shouted.
Both children recoiled at the sound of their father’s booming voice. Claudia started to well-up but looked away before any of her tears fell.
“You’re going to bed without dinner tonight. It looks like you’ve spoiled your appetite anyway. Think about what you’ve done!”
Claudia stumbled her way toward the room and threw herself upon her bed. She buried her head in her pillow and cried. Outside her room, she heard her father address Soren.
“Son, would you please heat up the leftover soup. We’ll have that for dinner tonight.”
“Yes, Dad,” Soren said obediently.
Claudia snickered. She didn’t want that soup anyway. It was three days old by that point and stale. She and Soren had made it themselves. They’d often be responsible for preparing dinner. Claudia tried to follow a recipe she’d seen her mother make, but it didn’t taste the same. There was something missing. But it wasn’t an ingredient. It was something else.
When the soup came to a boil, Viren spoke again.
“Soren, help your sister clean up. I don’t want her to track her sticky hands all over her bedding.”
“Yes, Dad,” Soren answered meekly.
Claudia heard Soren approaching their room. She wiped her eyes dry and sat up in bed and put on an angry face. She met him with her well-rehearsed scowl. She wanted him to know that he had hurt her.
Soren sighed and shrugged and then closed the door behind him.
“Don’t be like that, Clauds,” he pleaded. “Let’s go wash up.” He stepped toward her and took her hand in his own and squeezed tenderly. Claudia knew that meant he was sorry. She allowed him to lead her to the washroom, where a basin of warm water was waiting.
“Sit down, and I’ll get you cleaned up,” Soren insisted. Claudia planted herself on the small stool next to the washbasin and let Soren wipe her face clean with a warm cloth. When Soren lifted her hand and started dapping it with soap and water, Claudia decided she could forgive her brother for not standing up for her earlier.
“Does Dad hate me?” Claudia asked.
“No, Clauds, of course not! He loves us both. It’s just… it’s been hard for him too, you know?”
But Claudia didn’t know. She didn’t understand.
“I’m running away,” she confessed.
“That’s nice…” Soren said dismissively, not bothering to stop scrubbing his sister’s hands.
“I mean it! I’m running away tomorrow!”
Soren groaned.
“Clauds, stop being such a baby…” he huffed.
“You can come with me Soren! I’m going to Del Bar. I’m gonna go live with Mama!” she said, her voice breaking as she laid her plans out for her brother to see.
“Mom is gone! Clauds, she left us! She doesn’t want us!” Soren barked, his eyes getting watery.
Claudia pouted, certain that Soren was wrong. He was so wrong. Claudia was sure that her mother wanted them both, and that her father had pushed her out. Her father was the one who didn’t want them. He didn’t want her, that much she was sure. She didn’t know what else to say, so she sat silently and let Soren finish getting the sticky jelly off her hands. Soren had made up his mind. He wouldn’t come with her.
“All cleaned up. Ready for bed?” Soren asked with a smile.
“Can you read me a story?” Claudia asked with a hopeful smile.
“Sure, after I eat dinner,” Soren agreed. He then led her back to her room and helped her climb into bed. He tucked her in and promised he’d be back to read to her soon. He kissed her on the forehead before departing, and he closed the door behind himself.
While she waited for her brother to come back, Claudia thought about which story she wanted him to read. She had lots of books to choose from. She knew most of them by heart, but that was okay. She loved them all. Before she left, her mother was always the person who read to her. Her mother’s voice resonated in her mind and in her heart. Her voice was so soft, and welcoming. Every single word was safety, like a warm blanket.
When her mother read, she’d do voices for each character. And she was so good at it! She’d make her voice high and fancy for a princess, or silly for the clowns and jesters. She’d make it deep and raspy for the villains or dragons. Her voices could even be scary, but Claudia always knew that she simply needed to squeeze her mother a little tighter to let her know she was afraid, and she’d go back to her normal voice.
Soren now filled that role. He’d read to her before bedtime if she asked. And it always went the same. Soren would curl up beside her, just as their mother used to. Soren would always start the story in a dull monotone voice of feigned disinterest, until Claudia chirped up.
“No! So-ren! You need to do the voices! You need to do it like Mama would!” she’d insist.
Soren always sent her a smile, and then he’d start over. He’d try to do the voices, but he wasn’t very good at it. Most of them sounded the same. But he was trying. And she loved him for it. She loved him so much.
Time ticked by as she waited for Soren to stumble in. His normal bedtime came and went, but he had not returned. It was a full hour past his regular bedtime before the door swung open. By this time, Claudia was fighting to stay awake, but she refused to go to bed without a story.
“Clauds, I’m sorry. I can’t read you a story tonight,” Soren said groggily.
“But you promised!” she whimpered.
“I know. I’m sorry. But Dad said it’s part of your punishment. He wants you to think long and hard about what you did.”
Claudia pulled the covers over her head and started crying. She wanted someone to read to her. She wanted someone to hear her and to see her. She wanted someone to hold her. The way Mama would.
She fell asleep without getting any of the things she needed.
She woke up with ironclad resolve.
Today was the day.
Soren was sound asleep and snoring. Staying up past his bedtime had really tired him out. Claudia smirked. It would actually work out to her advantage. There were a few final things she needed to gather before she left, and if Soren were asleep, it would be that much easier.
She rolled out of bed and put on a clean dress and fresh socks. She pulled her stash of jelly tarts from under the bed and opened the bag. Into it she tossed her stuffed unicorn. She’d need that. She also took her favourite book, which she knew her mother would happily read to her when she saw her again. She couldn’t wait!
She needed only one more thing. She looked at Soren to make sure he was still asleep and then tiptoed toward his drawer. She knew what she was looking for was hidden away in a box in his top drawer. She slid open the drawer and then flipped the lid of the square wooden box, which held a folded piece of paper.
With unmatched care, Claudia unfolded the paper. It was Soren’s most cherished possession. A portrait of their family. But she needed it more than he did. She needed a picture if she had any hope of finding her. Yet, as her eyes shifted between the picture and her sleeping brother, she was filled with guilt. She was going to take something important from her brother. She’d heard him, in the middle of the night, fetch the drawing and then hide underneath his blankets, with a jar of glow-bugs to provide ambient light so he could look at his mother’s face and remember. Claudia could hear him sob. She always wanted to comfort him, but she knew it was better to let him have that moment to himself and let him miss her in his own way.
She looked back at the drawing, and wondered how Soren would feel when he realized she was gone, and that she’d been serious about running away. Would he miss her? Would he remember her in ten years?
She didn’t want him to forget about his little sister, so she scampered over to her nightside table and found the scissors she used for arts and crafts. She carefully snipped along the drawing and cut her mother out. She folded her mother gently and placed her in her pocket. She folded the family that had been reduced to three and placed it back in the wooden box. Something for him to remember her by. A gift.
Still on her tippy toes, she threw her bag over her shoulder and made her way to the door. She looked at her brother one last time, and then she left.