While Pollyanna recounted her past, she kept thinking of something she had tried to block out for many, many years, but now, it kept resurfacing at the edge of her memories. It was a hairpiece with a pink rose that she never dared to wear as a child because it was so precious to her. She thought it was expensive when she was a child, but, thinking back on it, she knew it was just a cheap accessory. She remembered turning it in her hands over and over while she lived in the manor with Kline.
She could trace the shape of it even when she wasn’t holding it; she could remember the precise shade of pink it was even though she hadn’t seen it for hundreds of years. It was a happy memory for her--a present given to her by her father for a birthday long passed. She had so little as a child, and so whenever she got a present, she worshipped it.
Pollyanna preferred to forget such memories because they made her weak and emotional, and there was nothing she liked less than feeling weak and emotional. Back then, she was always depending on the kindness of others to help her, and she thought they would, because she thought everyone had the desire to be a hero deep down like she did.
She knew Rory did.
Just thinking about him made her head flare with sadness.
He had made her
weak.
It was Fjorn who had picked her up from the ashes of her childhood and made her into the strong and stable woman she wanted to be. He had given her what she wanted, and she was only alive and well thanks to him.
I have no regrets. I got what I wanted.
Pollyanna repeated again.
“Are you sure you want to hear more?” Pollyanna asked Eory as she stretched her legs out in front of her, crossing her feet at the ankles. “It gets worse.”
Eory sincerely wondered if he did.
His eyes were red from crying for her at her past pain. He felt such a vicious disgust at the world that he felt like crawling back within himself and letting Taylor take over again. However, he didn’t want to abandon Pollyanna like everyone else had. He wanted to listen; it was the only way to help her.
“I want to hear.” Eory said compassionately.
Silence ensued.
Pollyanna turned around and faced him for the first time since she entered the room. She crossed her arms on the mattress and leaned her chin on them. “You’re such a cute boy… Do you know what usually happens to cute boys?”
Eory blushed, but was apprehensive of what she might say next. “What happens to them?”
“They get gutted from the inside out.” Pollyanna’s flirtatious expression changed to a cold, hard one. “That’s what happens to them.”
__
A week had passed since her wedding. Kline was gone all day on most days, and Pollyanna was left alone at the manor during that time. He would only visit her at night, and then he would leave her, crumpled and broken, to her own destructive thoughts and lonely feelings for the rest of the night and the following day. Pollyanna didn’t know what Kline did during the day and didn’t care. She knew he worked a job that made him wealthy, but that was all she knew.
She would stay in her room for most of the day, not knowing what to do with herself. She was too frightened to leave. There was a bookcase in her room, and she spent most of her time reading through the books upon it. A familiar fairy tale that her father used to read to her was on the bookcase. She read it over and over again, the pages were crinkled from her tears dotting the page.
Sometimes, she would venture forth from her room and explore the manor when the boredom became too much for her, but she would avoid the servants and any human contact while she was out.
At the end of the week, Pollyanna finally got so bored that she asked Kline what she was supposed to do from day-to-day now that they were married. It was in the morning, while he was getting dressed, he responded, “You are to be a wife and mother. I’ll have the staff teach you how to cook, clean, and mend clothes.”
“A mother…?” Pollyanna whispered, frightened by the prospect. She couldn’t even take care of herself, let alone anyone else.
“Renthas refuses to give me an heir. I swear, I’ll have three before I die.” He replied as he pulled his boots on.
Pollyanna bit back a gasp.
I shall give birth to the spawn of the underworld…
Pollyanna thought to herself in horror.
That’s what any child of his would be.
The next morning, Pollyanna was a dutiful student while the staff taught her how to sew, cook, and clean.
Under her mother, Pollyanna never felt the need to try hard at the tasks a woman should be good at. Now that she had to learn in order to succeed, she tried her best. Many of the staff told her she was a quick learner.
“By the way,” her sewing teacher said as she taught Pollyanna how to stitch up a pair of Kline’s breeches. Pollyanna was focused on her task; it was monotonous, but it kept her mind off other, difficult subject matter. The needle ducked up and down through the fabric in a satisfying rhythm.
“What is it?” Pollyanna asked.
“Your mother wants to see you tonight.” Her teacher replied.
Pollyanna lifted her eyes from her task nervously.
I don’t want to see her.
“She that you haven’t left the manor since you’ve been married.” Her teacher informed her. “She wants to know how you are.”
“I-I’ll ask Kline if I can go tomorrow.” Pollyanna replied, wishing to end the conversation. At night, while Kline sat at the edge of their bed, she asked him whether she could visit her mother.
Kline agreed without hesitation. “What a lazy little mouse you are. You don’t need my permission to visit your mother. She lives right next door, after all. I was wondering why she was so upset earlier.”
“You’ve been to see her?” Pollyanna whispered meekly.
“Of course. You’ll see her first thing tomorrow.” Kline ordered and left her for the night.
The next day, Pollyanna stepped out of the manor for the first time in a week and enjoyed the warm sunshine on her face. Kline’s manor was at the edge of the town; it was isolated and quiet with no other houses and no other people around.
Pollyanna could hear even the smallest of sounds, and she found that to be very pleasant. She could hear cicadas, the cooing of birds, and even the bubbling of a distant brook. She enjoyed the fresh smell of rosemary on the wind.
She looked to her left. Next door to the manor, she saw a finely built house where she was told her mother resided.
So this is what selling your daughter bought you…
Pollyanna thought to herself.
She took a deep breath, approaching the house’s front door. Pollyanna lifted a fist with a shaking hand--ready to knock--but found that she was too nervous to follow through.
I swear, I’m more scared of her than I am of Kline at times.
She let out a horrendous sob and leaned her forehead against the door.
“Pollyanna?” A voice called out curiously.
Pollyanna immediately dried her eyes, looking the way the voice had come from.
Rory was standing nearby.
“Hello Rory,” Pollyanna tried not to sound resentful at him, but it was hard to avoid. “Are you well?”
Rory, who was holding a beautiful, hand-crafted, earthen bowl, stared at her searchingly. “A-are
you
well…? I mean, I’m really happy for you, but he is a little…”
Pollyanna couldn’t help the angry tears that came unbidden to her eyes. “Do I look well, Rory?”
Rory was confused. “Why are you crying?”
Pollyanna turned away from him. “How could you be so heartless? So… So blind! You could have saved me!”
Rory screwed his eyes shut, misery smeared across his face. “I wanted you, Pollyanna. I still want you. It’s you who picked Kline over me.”
Pollyanna spun around. She clenched her fists—her eyes were still stung with tears. “I needed you to ask me before he did! If you had asked, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. I don’t understand… Am I too ugly for you? Was I not good enough?”
She collapsed to her knees—breaking down at the sight of one of the only people who could have rescued her.
Rory came to her side, brazenly wrapping his arms around her—an act that could get both him and Pollyanna into deep trouble if someone saw. “I’m sorry Pollyanna. I wanted to ask you so badly—I kept trying to get up the guts, but you were so intimidating. Look at me… Look at me…”
Pollyanna, who previously could not look him in the eyes, looked in them now with wide, tearful eyes of her own.
“I was a coward. It’s not that you weren’t good enough, it’s that I was too afraid to ask you. God, I’ve had trouble sleeping every night since. I know you didn’t want to marry him. I know you only did it because your parents wanted you to, and good girls do what their parents ask of them. Pollyanna…” Rory murmured and thumbed some of her tears away. Pollyanna closed her eyes and felt at peace in his arms. “Will you meet with me tomorrow morning? I’ll wait for you just outside your manor. I want to talk more.”
Pollyanna took a moment—enjoying his embrace a little while longer, and then she nodded. “You’ll wait… Inconspicuously, right?”
Rory chuckled a little. “Of course.” He frowned awkwardly, looking apologetic after a moment. “Your… Husband requested a bowl at our shop. I have to deliver it now.”
Pollyanna nodded sadly. “Okay.”
--------Rory released her from his arms. He knocked on Kline’s manor door, handing the beautiful bowl off to one of the servants after being paid a few coppers.
Rory waved goodbye to Pollyanna as she mustered her strength to knock on her mother’s door. She rapped her knuckles on the white door.
She heard footsteps approaching from inside.
Her mother appeared at the door with a hollow expression on her face. “Pollyanna. I’ve been expecting you. Why didn’t you come to visit me sooner?”
She felt so very alone under the scrutinizing gaze of her mother. “I’ve been busy, mother. I’ve been learning how to sew and cook and clean and…”
“Things that you should have already learned from me,” her mother cut in, “but you never did because you’re such a lazy girl.”
Pollyanna closed her eyes with a frown pulling at her lips. “Y-yes mother…”
Her mother sighed. “Come on in, Pollyanna.”
She spun on her heel, following inside the house. Pollyanna followed after her.
She turned in a tight circle, surveying the house while following her mother. The little house was built to perfection; it was made of stone instead of straw and mud like her old house and it had more than one room, which seemed like paradise to Pollyanna and her mother. It was spotless thanks to the servants and decorated beautifully.
Pollyanna’s eyes glistened as she looked upon the splendor of the house.
Daddy was a good man, and he could never afford anything like this…
Pollyanna followed her mother to the sitting room where the young girl sat down on a sofa, slouching. The room felt and looked too clean for a low-born girl like her to reside in, and she felt uneasy sitting in it.
“So, how is life with Kline?” Her mother asked, sitting across from her on a chair.
Pollyanna replied with slumped shoulders, “It’s… The house is nice.”
Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “Sit up straight, Pollyanna.”
“Yes mother…” Pollyanna murmured resignedly, sitting up straight.
Pollyanna looked at her red high heels and resisting the urge to clack them together like she might if she were younger. She had so many unexpressed feelings that she felt only her mother could help her process. She gulped and asked, “Mother, do you ever miss father?”
Her mother took a sip of the hot tea that was set on the table separating the two. “Of course I miss him. He was a wonderful father and husband. He made many foolish decisions toward the end, however. Aren’t you glad I convinced him to let you marry Kline before he died? Look at you; you have everything I wanted as a girl… Red satin shoes, a beautiful bow in your hair, and an expensive dress.” Her mother said it coldly.
She said it
jealously
.