She woke up from her nap and stretched, her back arching and her head pressing into the soft back of the chair she was in. Naps were wonderful. Only twenty minutes and one could feel refreshed as if they’d slept for hours.
Not that she was opposed to sleeping for hours. Hours spent in sleep were good, too.
She stretched her legs as well, and the rustling of fabric that was a singular sound, relegated to one particular garment, could be heard as loud as a set of cymbals crashing against her skull.
Her eyes snapped open.
Her hands flew to her lap.
She looked down, and saw piles upon piles of white silk and lace, her bare toes barely visible from beneath the long gown. Her eyes were hypnotized by the intricate designs, the crystals that were woven into it. Not gaudy, just eye-catching.
Shaking her head, her gaze went from the skirt to her torso, also clad in silk and lace, but instead of voluminous it was tight, constricting, and it stopped only an inch above being indecent.
Maybe two inches.
Silk and lace covered her arms from her fingertips to just past her elbows as well, and there was heavy jewelry of some sort around her neck. She reached to feel the rows of heavy stones that fell into an arrow that pointed between her breasts. She could just see the dropped stone that was the feature of the necklace, and it matched a ring bearing the load of a very, very large, clear, iridescent precious stone that was on her left hand.
She was confused. Why was she wearing a wedding gown? She did not remember getting engaged. That was something she was sure she would remember. It was something all young girls dreamed of – the moment their love got down on one knee, held out a little aqua blue or black velvet box and said those magic words.
“Ah, I see you’re awake!”
She lurched up and out of the chair she’d been napping in, and spun to face the person behind the voice.
“Oh, now, I didn’t mean to startle you. Dear, I really thought we were past that.”
She stared at the man in the doorway. He was short. He was ugly. She had no idea who he was.
It was now that she realized there was more than one rustling sound going on. While the layers of her (admittedly amazing) dress slipped and shivered against each other, whispering to her to be careful, to watch out, warning her about the man she faced, there was also the clank and jangle of chains as she shifted her feet, backing away from the stranger.
She gathered some of the skirts, and looked at her right ankle.
It was a white cuff, and a white chain. She had barely noticed it before, but now it weighed her down like an anchor.
“It’s just for your protection, darling,” the man in the doorway said, now moving through the room to a counter that held several decanters, each with a label she could not read. “You were so hurt the last time we let you loose. We just want you to be safe.”
Hurt? She tried to test her joints, her bones, moving around to see what had been injured, but she found nothing.
“I don’t feel hurt.”
Her hands flew to her mouth. She wasn’t sure what startled her more – that she had spoken, or that she didn’t recognize her own voice. Her eyes darted around the room, and upon finding a mirror, she moved as close to it as the chain around her ankle would allow.
Standing in the center of the room, looking at a large, floor-to-ceiling mirror, she nearly found herself in a heap on the floor.
She saw the gown, and recognized it as the one she currently wore. She saw the gloves on her arms, and knew they were her arms.
But she did not recognize her face. Her hair, a wild, spiky riot of short brown locks was foreign. The nose that looked as if it might have been broken at one point was the one her fingers were feeling right now, but she did not know it to be hers. Even the color of her eyes were strange.
“What’s happening? I don’t understand. Why don’t I know who I am?”
The man in the room held out a tall glass filled with an amber liquid. “Here, drink this.”
She took it, but did not drink. “What is it?”
He shrugged. “I am not here to drug you, if that’s what you think. It is merely something to help you feel better. You have been through a lot, and here you are now, on the day of your marriage to the most powerful man in the world. It is of course completely normal for you to be uncomfortable and confused.”
Her head spun. She wanted to go back to the chair and go back to sleep, and hopefully when she woke again everything would make sense. She didn’t dare move, because the thought of hearing the sound of the chain and of the dress again surrounded her with a blanket of paralyzing fear.
“Sweeting, drink. I assure you, you will feel better.”
She looked at the glass, smelled the liquid, but could not bring herself to tip the glass.
He helped, with his slow movements and short stature, he was less threatening than her own towering reflection that was still facing her. His hand raised the bottom of the glass so the liquid flowed into her mouth. She didn’t resist, and swallowed until the last drop slid down the back of her throat.
“Better?”
Agnes looked down at her manservant, and smiled. “Thank you, Javier. That was just what I needed.” Shaking her right ankle, she held it out from beneath her dress. “Could you please remove this now? I have a wedding to finish getting ready for.”
Javier smiled, and returned the glass to its place next to the decanter bearing the name of his mistress. He thought his master would be pleased with his choice for today. Such an important day deserved a polite, docile, willing woman. Putting the stopper back, he gazed at the other Personality Bottles, and thought perhaps later, he would use Jacqueline.
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This post of fiction is part of the April A to Z Blogging Challenge. I’m doing short stories, about 1,000 words, based on words I like that start with today’s letter. Don’t forget to check out the participant list to check out other amazing bloggers blogging about today’s letter!
