To Stay in the Living Lands

Chapter Two part Three

“But- I have no other realives, you died before I was born,”

“No. Cecily was transported first. You see, she stumbled upon a door five years before I did,”

“It was a long five years, for both of us. I anxiously waited, hoping that you’d come, because your door was here,” Cecily grasped Cedric’s hand.

“I did meet you, Cassandra, you were a newborn, only a few days old. You were so small, so quiet, and so pretty. Hildegard was there too. Though she smiled and fawned over you, I could tell she was masking great pain. Her husband had died a few months before, and she’d never have another chance to have a child, in her eyes,”

“I didn’t realize she had a husband,” Cassandra breathed.

“I would have guessed she would have been delighted to take you in, but perhaps her jealousy overshadowed her desire for her own child,” How could her aunt have wanted a child? She had told her every day how she never wanted children.

“We’re sorry, Cassandra,” Cecily said. Sorry? Sorry? Cassandra had lived a decade with her Aunt, and had worked and worked. ‘Sorry’ wouldn’t do anything to cover that. Cassandra swallowed, hard.

“So . . .she can never get here?”

“She won’t find the way unless the King builds her a room, and he will next come in 23 or 24 years.” Cassandra felt a weight lift off of her shoulder. She felt as if she had grown an inch or two. She was free. Truly free. Free of endless chores, she could be her own person now. I’ll never serve someone again. She silently promised, I’ll never let my freedom be taken away. 

“What do you do for a living, Mr. Cedric?” Cassandra asked. She couldn’t bring herself to say Grandpa. 

“Please, Call me Grandpa,” Cedric said, “And I work the fields, along with your Grandmother,”

“But- aren’t you old?” Cassandra asked, “I mean, too old to work in the fields. And who do you work for?”

“No, I will never out-grow working, Cassandra. And I work for the King, I am his servant, and he is my master,” Cassandra gripped the chair.

“Gran too?” she asked. 

“Yes, we work the fields, all day long, besides the day of rest. That was when we found you, when we were working. The King has us grow all sorts of things! I gave you some of our healing tonic we make from our fruits. Work is good, Cassandra,”
“Does he pay you?”

“Pay us? Cassandra, you will learn that this world is different. Its rules are different. We don’t get paid, well not in money. He builds us these houses and anything we could want. We have no need of money, Cassandra.” I’ll need money. 

“So, what are the job options?” Cassandra asked. Cecily and Cedric shared a look. 

“Cassandra, we all work for the King. He has given us each talents. But in order to receive them, one must travel to him,” 

“But more on that later,” Cecily said, “Who wants dessert?” 

“What’s . . . dessert?” Cassandra asked. Cecily looked horrified as if Cassandra had personally insulted her. 

“What is dessert?” she repeated. Cassandra wanted to shrink in her seat. She said the wrong thing. She always said the wrong thing. Cecily would make her do chores, make her go without breakfast, take away her room, and make her sleep in a closet. 

“Child, did Hildegard not give you dessert?”

“N-no,” Cassandra stammered. Her fingers gripped the chair. 

“Good heavens, the poor child,” 

Cecily disappeared into another room, shaking her head and muttering. Cassandra felt waves of panic rushing through her. What was she going to do? 

“Cassandra?” Cedric asked. Cassandra’s head whipped to face her grandpa. 

“Yes?” she whispered. 

“Cassandra, are you alright?” his words sounded fuzzy and distant. She nodded her head. 

“What are you afraid of?” he asked. Cassandra tried to force herself to calm down, although it didn’t seem to be working. 

“I-I-I nothing,” she stammered. 

Cecily walked in, carrying a platter stacked with something brown, cut into squares in one hand, and a pitcher of some white liquid in the other. She set it down in the center of the table. 

“Here, Cassandra, have a couple brownies and milk,” she said. Milk. Her Aunt had spoken of it before. Brownies looked like dark brown bread almost. Cassandra obeyed, afraid. What was dessert?

“Is this . . . dessert?” she asked, “More food?”

“It’s something sweet after dinner,” said Cecily, gently. 

“Sweet, like an apple?” 

“Sugar sweet,”

“I’ve never really had sugar. Auntie said it was very bad for me, and she told me that I should never eat it, she ate it because she was old.” 

“Eat it, Cassandra. It’s only bad for you if you eat too much of it all at once,” Though Cecily spoke kindly, she seemed to be angry underneath.

Cassandra hesitantly took a chunk on her fork and put it in her mouth. A sweet taste flowed through. She had never tasted anything like it in all her life. 

“This . . . this is . . .” she couldn’t form any words to describe the wonderful taste that was in her mouth. 

“Delicious?” Cassandra nodded as she shoved in another piece of brownie. She closed her mouth, savoring the soft pastry. 

She finished them all too soon. 

“Now, Cassandra, have a good rest, we’ll see you in the morning,” Cassandra nodded and went to her room.

The pillows were so soft.

Cassandra fell asleep.