Lina: Twisted Fairy Tales Book Two

28: Vastly Different

One of the first stops I made was Uncle Reggie’s rooms where he conducted business. I snagged the log-book from his desk drawer of the ongoing funds that had been donated, collected and set aside for aiding our people. Of course we would love to claim to eradicate poverty, but it just didn’t work that way, did it? The world still required trade or gold, payment in some form for services and goods. The Kingdom also still received stragglers from the war around my time of birth, and still had the consequences of said war to remedy. There were funds needed to set our Kingdom to rights.

‘Generational homelessness would not become our heritage’ As Mama always used to say.

Plus there were the displaced orphans, injured war veterans, the widowed.. The list went on. The ravages of war were far reaching.

There were some scratched out notes about recent donations and withdrawals to the budget. But there were no notations on what was done with the funds or what else was needed. I sighed. Looked like I would be taking a bit of a walk around to check up on things. I pulled some more books to cross-check some of the budget information and snatched one of Uncle Reggie’s favorite quills and a small ink pot to fill out some much needed information. Then I grabbed up one of Reggie’s leather shoulder bags to stuff everything in, before setting out. Served him right for not keeping adequate notes. Then I stomped out of the room.

The sun was surprisingly pleasant and warm. I hadn't realized so much of the morning had already passed me by. Or maybe I had just spent so much time in my own head lately I hadn't really noticed the world around me. For a moment, I just stood with my head back, letting the sun warm me. I relished the little shiver of pleasure it gave me before I forced myself to concentrate and get back to what I needed to do.

Unfortunately, the first place I stopped, I had to deal with an unexpected visitor.

“Lina!” Several children cried when I entered the orphanage. I had expected this place to be busy, what with all the young children, so was prepared for the explosion of noise as I stepped inside.

“Ah, ah, that’s ‘Princess Malina’.” Corrected the Matron of the orphanage. I squatted down so that the handful of older children could run into my open arms.

“That’s ok, you can call me ‘Lina’.” I stage-whispered to the kids with a wink.

“Can you turn into a fox for us?” One older boy asked.

“No, a pony!” A smaller girl yelled excitedly.

“Or a cat!” Another girl squealed. My eyes lit up, thinking of the lion I’d just learned about.

“You know, I just met this amazing wild cat that comes from another land..” I mused, tapping my lips and beginning to describe it.

“By the Gods, Malina! Tell me that isn’t what you come here to do!” My grandmother’s voice whipped out over all of our heads, making more than me flinch. She separated my name out into something foreign with three distinct syllables in that way maternal figures do when scolding a child. I groaned under my breath and stood slowly to face her.

“Oh but it makes the children so happy, My Queen.” The Matron objected on my behalf, only to be shot down by the most evil of glares from my grandmother. The people still used the term of respect and treated her as though she had power, despite the fact that she really was nothing more than a figurehead these days.

“I don’t need your help in the matter, thank you.” She sniffed. The Matron looked properly abashed, and me, I just rolled my eyes.

“I don’t do anything to ‘dishonor the crown’ as you would put it.” I sighed as my grandmother turned back to me.

“Oh? I know you are nude between transformations! How is public nudity for a Princess not dishonoring your station?” She scolded.

“Well if you think about it, we’re all naked under our clothes.” I responded with a shrug and children’s giggles were muffled around me. My grandmother sputtered and looked around pointedly.

“You disgrace yourself even now, young lady. Don’t think I won’t be taking this up with your mother!” My grandmother swept out of the orphanage, being chased by the Matron who was babbling apologies. I sighed again.

“So who wants to see a really big cat?” I asked with a grin. Children started yelling all around me.

The conversation between the Matron of the orphanage and I was relatively brief. The funds were donated to be used for the usual fare, food, clothing and other necessities, but a hole in the roof still needed tending to, and the Matron was desperate for us to put on some kind of banquet or something to draw attention to the orphans that needed homes. Or at the very least, the orphanage itself, which could use more hands and more funding. She was terrified the event with my grandmother may have ruined her chances of the banquet taking place, but I merely laughed.

“Trust me, she lives for these types of things. And since she doesn’t think I can handle these parties and things well enough, there’s no way she would leave this to me and let me ‘destroy her reputation’ for putting on a good party. She’ll most definitely have to be involved, and will most assuredly take charge.” I told the Matron, grumbling under my breath that my grandmother would probably make sure to find the most hideous dress or uncomfortable way to include me as punishment for my activities with the orphans. I jotted down notes on our discussion as the Matron looked on with wide eyes, still worried about the outcome of her fate due to the run-in with the Queen Mother. To say that I sighed a breath of relief when I escaped from there would be an understatement.

My next few stops were to some special causes of my own that I was afraid had been neglected in my absence. Just because the ‘war’ was over didn’t mean the occasional skirmish or rebellion didn’t rise up. Some fool that thought he was going to reinvigorate a dead cause. And there were almost always casualties.

One of those casualties, and the last of my visits to my ‘special causes’ was a young woman, no older than me, raising her two younger siblings after her parents had died in a raid of their village by rebel forces. The rebels had been driven from the Castle in defeat, after attempting to incite a coup, was the theory. In a strange way, it made me feel responsible for the girl’s misfortune. If we hadn’t driven them away, they wouldn’t have been raiding, scavenging for food. Which means their family’s farm wouldn’t have been attacked, and then her parents wouldn’t have resisted, leading to their deaths. And ultimately, the children being alone.

Logically, I knew I had no hand in what had happened, but my heart hurt for them, and I still felt guilt. So I checked in on them whenever I could, making sure the children had clothes, that there was enough food. I brought toys when I could, made sure they had enough to keep them warm during the winters, and pointed employers the way of the young woman if and when she was in need of extra coin. It would be easier to just give the coin to her, but she was rather strong-willed and didn't want to be handed everything. I think that’s why I liked her so much. Hand-me-downs she didn’t reject so quickly. After all, our society was still based very much on making as much use out of an item as we could, and after the third time I’d told her an item from the Castle proper was going to be thrown out, she’d snatched it from me. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. Even if those items were in no danger of being burned on the trash pile.

“Lady Malina!” She gasped as I rounded the corner of their shabby little hut. As I approached, she was doing laundry, hanging it out on the line. She clutched an apron to her chest as if in shock. My gaze sharpened on her.

“Tell me you haven’t been dismissed-” I barked. She flinched. I didn’t mean to seem so snappish towards her, but I wouldn’t put up with some fool releasing her from her job because she had to care for her siblings. She worked hard, and they knew it. They could afford to give her a day or two off a week.

“No, no! The baker gave me the day off. I take them when he takes his rotations in the castle. I.. It’s too crowded there for me.” She looked down at the pail of laundry at her feet. What she really meant was she was still too traumatized. I couldn’t figure out whether she was just uncomfortable around large groups of men, seeing all the people in armor, the crazy commotion of the Castle, or perhaps my parents just made her relive her loss. Either way, I didn’t press her on the issue and she hadn’t volunteered any information in all the time I’d known her.

“Oh good.” I responded carefully. “I’m glad that’s all then. If you need any help with your employment..” I offered, but she desperately began to wave her hand.

“No, no! You do enough! Thank you again!” She stammered quickly. Red-faced, she bent and pulled another article of clothing from the pail to toss over the line. I noted it was a bit threadbare, and reminded myself to ask one of her neighbors if I could drop off some clothing they could ‘donate’ to the family. She seemed more comfortable accepting things from them than me.

“So where are the little ones?” I asked, walking over to help her straighten out the child-sized chemise.

“Oh, running around somewhere. Can’t keep them home on nice days. Oh My Lady, you don’t need to do that!” She exclaimed as I lifted another article of clothing from her pail.

“Perhaps not, but I felt like it. After all, it is such a nice day. I’d rather be here speaking with you than cooped up inside the castle being forced to learn new stitches.” I made a face and she laughed lightly, but then her expression became sad.

“Our lives are so vastly different, aren’t they?” She sighed, a hand on the latest article of clothing she’d hung. My heart twinged again with guilt.

“Yes. Very much so.” I murmured in reply, realizing she’d probably kill to have my life, abduction and all.