turned guys away a time or two before Trev had
tried and succeeded. Yet, Llywelyn hadn’t and was offended at the
very thought. At the same time, the possessiveness in his voice
when he talked to his brother was unmistakable. “She’s mine,” he’d
said . What exactly did that mean?
I rolled off the bed and stood, ready to get
moving and face whatever reality Llywelyn had constructed. I walked
to where Anna lay and crouched beside her bed, just to check on
her. As always, my heart swelled when I looked at her, so glad that I had her. As Mom had said, she was the one good
thing we’d gotten out of this mess.
Anna opened her eyes.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I said.
“Hi, Mommy. Are you okay now? You slept a
long time!” She lifted a hand and touched the wooden side of the
trundle bed. She looked at it for a second before sitting up
quickly, twisting her body around in a jerky motion to survey the
room.
“It’s okay, Anna,” I said. I picked her up.
She still swiveled her head to take in her surroundings.
“Is Gramma here?”
“I would like to think that she’s on her
way,” I said. “We had an accident in the car. Do you remember?”
Anna gazed at me, her eyes solemn. “There
was a man. He unbuckled my car seat.”
“I imagine he did,” I said. “Did he carry
you here?”
She nodded.
“Was he nice?”
She nodded.
“Could you understand him when he talked to
you?”
Anna shook her head. “There were two men.
And a horse. And then there were more men and one of them had a big
stick with fire on the end. We’re in a castle .”
Well now. Just then, someone knocked
at the door and I swung around. “Come in!”
The door opened to reveal a girl a few years
younger than I, dressed in brown. She was slender and short, but
the most noticeable thing about her were two large buck teeth.
“Madam,” the girl said, curtseying. “Are you
ready for me to help you dress?” She spoke slowly in Welsh and I
aligned each of her words with their modern equivalent, finding
that I understood the gist of what she said.
“Yes, please.” I’d made the mistake of
sending her away earlier after she delivered breakfast so I could
have some privacy to think—a mistake because it only took twenty
seconds of contorting myself to realize I wasn’t able to tie my
dress up the back. I’d opened the door to call her back, but she’d
gone and I’d had to ask the guard to find her for me. Now here she
was, giggling in the hall with the man, certain that I was an
idiot.
We were destined for full, medieval regalia,
in keeping with the fantasy: leather boots, woolen leggings, shift,
petticoat, dress, and wimple, with a cloak over all of it, for both
Anna and me, even though we were inside. After dressing me, the
girl—Dana was her name—fixed my hair. One night and I already
understood why women went to bed with their hair in a braid,
because otherwise the tangles were painful to get out with only a
wooden comb that pulled and caught in my hair.
With my hair finally smooth, Dana began to
do something elaborate with small braids and in the end perched
them on the top of my head, a cloth pinned over them. At least I
wasn’t being forced to wear a veil; at least the dress was blue, my
favorite color. But honestly, did the fantasy have to go so far as
to not allow me a shower? Or underwear? I cursed myself for not
shaving my legs the previous morning. Of all days to forget . .
.
Anna watched the procedure, eyes wide,
taking it all in. What questions or pronouncements might I get out
of her later?
I liked reading about history a lot. I liked
listening to Mom’s stories about Wales, but it didn’t take a genius
to realize that for women, living in any era but the twentieth
century—the latter half of the twentieth century
even— sucked. After the fact, I understood that I’d allowed
Trev to guilt me into a subservient existence with him, but I had eventually left him when he hurt me, and I knew that occasionally I
tried and succeeded. Yet, Llywelyn hadn’t and was offended at the
very thought. At the same time, the possessiveness in his voice
when he talked to his brother was unmistakable. “She’s mine,” he’d
said . What exactly did that mean?
I rolled off the bed and stood, ready to get
moving and face whatever reality Llywelyn had constructed. I walked
to where Anna lay and crouched beside her bed, just to check on
her. As always, my heart swelled when I looked at her, so glad that I had her. As Mom had said, she was the one good
thing we’d gotten out of this mess.
Anna opened her eyes.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I said.
“Hi, Mommy. Are you okay now? You slept a
long time!” She lifted a hand and touched the wooden side of the
trundle bed. She looked at it for a second before sitting up
quickly, twisting her body around in a jerky motion to survey the
room.
“It’s okay, Anna,” I said. I picked her up.
She still swiveled her head to take in her surroundings.
“Is Gramma here?”
“I would like to think that she’s on her
way,” I said. “We had an accident in the car. Do you remember?”
Anna gazed at me, her eyes solemn. “There
was a man. He unbuckled my car seat.”
“I imagine he did,” I said. “Did he carry
you here?”
She nodded.
“Was he nice?”
She nodded.
“Could you understand him when he talked to
you?”
Anna shook her head. “There were two men.
And a horse. And then there were more men and one of them had a big
stick with fire on the end. We’re in a castle .”
Well now. Just then, someone knocked
at the door and I swung around. “Come in!”
The door opened to reveal a girl a few years
younger than I, dressed in brown. She was slender and short, but
the most noticeable thing about her were two large buck teeth.
“Madam,” the girl said, curtseying. “Are you
ready for me to help you dress?” She spoke slowly in Welsh and I
aligned each of her words with their modern equivalent, finding
that I understood the gist of what she said.
“Yes, please.” I’d made the mistake of
sending her away earlier after she delivered breakfast so I could
have some privacy to think—a mistake because it only took twenty
seconds of contorting myself to realize I wasn’t able to tie my
dress up the back. I’d opened the door to call her back, but she’d
gone and I’d had to ask the guard to find her for me. Now here she
was, giggling in the hall with the man, certain that I was an
idiot.
We were destined for full, medieval regalia,
in keeping with the fantasy: leather boots, woolen leggings, shift,
petticoat, dress, and wimple, with a cloak over all of it, for both
Anna and me, even though we were inside. After dressing me, the
girl—Dana was her name—fixed my hair. One night and I already
understood why women went to bed with their hair in a braid,
because otherwise the tangles were painful to get out with only a
wooden comb that pulled and caught in my hair.
With my hair finally smooth, Dana began to
do something elaborate with small braids and in the end perched
them on the top of my head, a cloth pinned over them. At least I
wasn’t being forced to wear a veil; at least the dress was blue, my
favorite color. But honestly, did the fantasy have to go so far as
to not allow me a shower? Or underwear? I cursed myself for not
shaving my legs the previous morning. Of all days to forget . .
.
Anna watched the procedure, eyes wide,
taking it all in. What questions or pronouncements might I get out
of her later?
I liked reading about history a lot. I liked
listening to Mom’s stories about Wales, but it didn’t take a genius
to realize that for women, living in any era but the twentieth
century—the latter half of the twentieth century
even— sucked. After the fact, I understood that I’d allowed
Trev to guilt me into a subservient existence with him, but I had eventually left him when he hurt me, and I knew that occasionally I
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