Amber Ravyns had always been a child of silence,her voice was rarely heard within the estate walls.
Born beneath a red moon,she was pampered like gold,having proved herself as Evona's smartest daughter. She buried herself in books,spent her youth beside chessboard,and nurtured under the shadows of her maids.
Few had truly seen her face.
Since childhood,she was dressed in silk,taught the tongue and walk of nobles, and made aware of what society demanded.
"Your job is to make Lady Evona proud to have you," her nanny would remind her,tightening her corset to the extent it swallowed her breathe. And the poor girl could only nod.
But there was one thing, although greatness had blessed her with beauty, luxury, pride ,it stripped her of one thing every human needed - she had no voice.
For the first six years of her life, Amber could not speak. Her throat carried sound,wanting to utter a command, but gave nothing. She was shifted from ships to ships, and devastatingly, the results were always the same. Physicians called her a mute miracle,for all cure had no effect.
Yet when she turned seven,she began to teach herself.
She would watch the movement of her maids' lips,their laughter, their gossips, ..then build on her own.
"That book. Fetch it," she would point. Then her maid would stare at her stupefied,as if she had heard the strangest words on earth - no less from a child believed to be chained in her throat - since they all believed Amber was mute, thinking she'd be like that forever.
Lady Evona, completely humiliated and irritated at the mere absurdity that her daughter could not even speak,made it her sole job to behead anyone who dared mock her daughter.
And from then, Amber learnt the beauty of silence; the kind that made people listen only because she spoke with her eyes.
Years turned her into a figure both feared and admired.She grew into something people envied - intelligent,wise, and dominating. Her hair, a rare red, was enough to earn her the stares and jealousy from the women in Ravenswood. Men desired her for her beauty and how easily she had her whims fulfilled only by batting an eyelash.
Yet this same poise unsettled men who could not fathom how a mere woman could have that much power. They whispered that no woman should yield that much authority, and most believed she was a man in a woman's skin. To them,only men dominated business sectors, and they found it useless for women to dominate.
They called her the nightingale.
Because she hardly spoke. People only heard her speak once in a blue moon. And even when she did speak,her words were carried out by her maids.
She was unlike her little sister Selene, who roamed about arguing over jewels and gowns. Amber preferred ledgers over gold, libraries over love, and peace over gossip,sleep over friends. She managed trade accounts alongside Lord Bastian and solved disputes while traveling with Lady Evona.
To her,she was untouchable, and her heart was rare to be taken by love for nothing.
She saw love as something for the weak not until she met him.
-----
It had happened one night at a ball in Gainsborough, when she had been ordered by Lord Bastian to deal with simple trade work for him. She loathed going,for she could not stand the noise and laughter of the local people. She found it difficult to make friends since she spoke less.
The beautiful gowns,the smell of food wafting through the atmosphere, and the fake laughter of nobles,who were only wearing laughter as a mask for society,made her wish she was someone hidden under her blankets listening to her maids rant about their husbands.
She sipped her wine comfortably, her eyes darting through the crowd. That was when he approached her.
"Milady," he bowed,kissing her gloved knuckles. Amber only raised her eyebrow,pulling her hand away from him.
"I'm Varcourt Philip Porter," said he,waiting for her to say something - and the unfazed lady dared not bother force a word.
He had a disarming smile and eyes that carried mischief. He stood still,waiting to be acknowledged, and when she said nothing,added,"May I know your name?"
"Amber," she replied,barely looking at him,turning to hand her glass to her maid
"Suits you! A lovely name for an exquisite woman,"
She gave no smile or answer.
He chuckled. "Not much of a talker, are you?"
"Not much of a listener, are you?"
"Well, I take it you're waiting for your knight to save you from this boring ball?,"
Amber tilted her head slightly,a faint but arrogant smile drawing on her face. "I'm no damsel to need a knight. To say it was a pleasure to meet you must be the biggest lie ever,but I'm pleased to make your acquaintance,"
And with that,bearing an expression of boredom, she walked away.
As the days passed by,she was greeted with letters upon letters from an unknown source.
"Milady,there's a letter for you from House of--"
"Into the fireplace!"
"But Milady it's--"
A look up from her was enough to make the girl scared."Okay, milady"
Day after day,he'd send her letters,sometimes one he had spent an entire evening drafting to impress her, but she never opened them. Her heart was colder than the snows, and when they all appeared,they journeyed straight to the fireplace.
Other days, he'd send her roses and books - or sweets and silks he had achieved from his tours around the world,but they all ended up as gifts to her maids because she never watched them.
He still did not give up,waiting by the pond everytime he knew she might pass by or every night when he knew she would ride her horse deep into the forest.
Love,unfortunately, bloomed steadily with time,but who said the cold never melted? For slowly and steadily,she cracked.
Before she realized, she met him by the gardens once
Then twice
Then more than she could count.
He'd take her riding into the woods,laughing under the moonlight,brushing leaves from her hair and taking her on trips.
They'd read poetry and laugh about the economics ridiculousness so bad she ended up with a sore throat. Sometimes,she'd spend all her time outside with him in the cold and come home sick.
For the first time,she smiled freely. Laughed with no care. She teased and joked.
And one night,when the world was asleep,she foolishly let him claim her,promising her he'd marry her. That he'd be hers alone. That he'd never let her go.
But when she told him she was with child,she expected happiness but he paled.
"What?"
Amber smiled faintly. "I'm with child! Our child Philip and--"
"Erase it," he said that so casually she had to make sure she heard him well.
"Erase what Philip? You talk as if this child is a stain to us. To your reputation. This is our child and--"
"It's a stain and your mother and the court would not be pleased. I do not want you to get ruined by this."
She stepped back,clutching her stomach. "I can't, Philip. I might die if I try aborting the--"
He cupped her cheeks," You will and you shall. You won't die. Else I fear our rendezvous ends her"
And she did.
She lost her innocence.
Lost her smiles
And with it,her laughter
-------
Amber walked alongside the pathway,watching as carriages passed by. She didn't hear a sound or see anything. Everything blurred in her eyes as she walked by,the tears in her eyes had dried and she couldn't even cry again.
She watched the lone moon for a while, her eyes fixated on her palms.
"You're stained!," she muttered. "Stained!"
Her feet dampened,causing her to lose her balance. She cared less to save herself,holding the branch of the willow tree only to save herself more bleeding lest she struck her feet against something. Her slipper,unluckily, struck into a rock at the bank of the pond ; too slippery and crooked that she lost her balance and fell.
She did not try to rise up or swim,her whole being succumbing to whatever story fate had written for her.
But when she did finally rise from the pond ; clutching the ends of her gown and squeezing it for the least water,her robe was ruined,her hair clinging to her skin.
She took one look at the sky,smiling at herself. Her robe was ruined just like her smile.
Just like who she used to be.
And under that night sky,she swore one thing - if she couldn't have him,no one would.