A Midday Stroll
826 Words
It seems like an eternity of solitude before I hear footsteps approaching again. When I do, I sigh a breath of relief knowing that I’ll finally get my hour of fresh air.
As the footsteps get closer my heart begins to accelerate. No matter how much I’d like to deny it, I find myself hoping that it’ll be Ladon on the other side of the door,
I climb out of bed and smooth out my dress, then check my reflection in the mirror and fix my hair. What am I doing? This isn’t like me.
Maybe I’m just craving attention because of this isolation. That has to be it.
I hear the lock begin to jingle again, and as hard as I’m trying to stay calm, my pulse races even faster.
Tap tap.
There’s a knock at the door. “Come in,” I say, but my voice cracks as I’m trying to hide the nerves in my clenched throat.
The door swings open with a loud creak, and on the other side is an enormous, bearded man with fiery red hair. “Your father will allow you one hour outside,” he says in his gruff, insensitive voice.
My shoulders slump in disappointment. Oh well. At least I get some semblance of freedom for a while. “Wonderful,” I say with a forced, cheesy smile and an overly-sweet voice.
He stands aside to let me pass by, and as we descend the spiraling staircase he stays uncomfortably close… like a lurking shadow. He’s so close that I can feel his hot, smelly breath on the back of my neck.
It makes my skin crawl. “Is that really necessary?” I ask, looking back at him with a scowl.
“Merlin’s orders,” he explains, “You’re not allowed out of my reach.”
I let out a frustrated groan and roll my eyes. “Great,” I sigh.
“Would you rather return to your tower?” He asks as we emerge into the courtyard.
I throw up my hands in surrender. “No, I’ll behave, I promise,” I say with that same saccharine smile.
“Hmmph,” he grunts, folding his arms across his barrel-shaped chest.
I turn back around with a massive eye roll and walk toward the center of the courtyard, lifting my face to the shining sun. I close my eyes, basking in the warm glow.
It’s funny, the things you don’t really appreciate until they’re taken away from you.
My eyes flutter open and I look at the people milling about, and it makes me realize quickly how little I missed them. I hate people. All they’ve ever done is hurt me.
I know how I want to spend my hour of freedom. “I’m going to the stables,” I tell the guard firmly.
He doesn’t respond, he only raises a bushy eyebrow at me suspiciously.
Well, he didn’t say no. So I turn on my heel and stalk toward the stables with my hairy shadow in tow.
The whole way there my mind is racing. I’m scanning every corner of the courtyard, taking note of where every guard is stationed as I formulate a plan for escape.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking around for Ladon too.
On the way to the stables we pass by the blacksmith’s workshop. He’s hammering away at a molten horseshoe, drenched in sweat and soot. Hanging on the wall behind him are various weapons and tools.
He wipes the filthy droplets from his forehead, then turns around to grab a small saw from it’s hook. He returns to his task and uses the tool to saw directly through the end of the shoe.
My eyes grow wide. That little tool can cut through iron. There’s my method of escape. I’ll never get through the enchanted door without the key… I’m just a magicless freak, after all. But if I could manage to cut through the iron bars of my window…
“What are you gawking at?” Grumbles the ogre behind me.
I clear my throat and smile. “Just watching an artisan at work,” I explain with a shrug.
He grunts again, then shoos me toward the stables. “I hope you realize you’re not riding the horses,” he says.
“Yeah,” I answer, “I gathered that.” I couldn’t care less what he has to say. My heart is racing at the prospect of freedom as we reach the stables. Somehow I have to get that tool.
- Writer
