Charlene sat by the window, the glass cool against her forehead. The black curtain of her hair flowed down her back, a dark waterfall against her simple, dark-blue dress. Her brown eyes were fixed on the cobblestone street below, but they saw nothing. They were replaying the day's wedding in her mind: the procession, the cheering crowds, and the vision of Princess Jackline radiant in red silk.
From the warmth of the kitchen, the clatter of pots and the scent of simmering herbs were an anchor to a world she felt herself drifting away from. Her sister, Sara,who also had dark curly hair with brown eyes, was humming softly as she helped their mother.
The domestic contentment was a weight, pressing down on Charlene's chest."Did you see her, Mother?" Charlene's voice was thin, a stark contrast to the thick stew her mother was stirring. "She looked like a goddess in that wedding dress." The words were laced with a bitter admiration. "And the King... his looks are a sin in this world."
Her mother's stirring stilled. She turned slowly, her gaze steady and serious. "Charlene, it is not right to admire a married man," she said, her voice holding a firm disapproval. "And who are you speaking of? The Queen?"The casual mention of Jackline's title was a barb.
Charlene flinched, pulling away from the window as if burned. "Why does she get everything?" The words tumbled out, sharp and petulant. "A rich, powerful, and handsome man. She always gets everything." Her roll of the eyes was a reflex of old resentments, practiced a thousand times.
She and Jackline had been friends, a fact everyone seemed to remember except for the part that still haunted Charlene. While the other servants' children had cowered or been dismissed, Jackline had seen her as an equal. But Jackline's kindness was a gilded cage. It only served to highlight the vast chasm between their lives. Jackline's empathy, her refusal to "look down" on Charlene, felt less like a gift and more like a constant, humiliating reminder of her own station.
"You shouldn't be jealous of your friend, Charlene," Sara said quietly from across the room, her voice gentle but firm.Not my friend, Charlene thought, the words a sour taste in her mouth. Never my friend. She wondered why they all took Jackline's side. They saw her as a good girl, the one who didn't covet what she couldn't have. But Charlene saw the world differently. Jackline's life was a feast, and Charlene was forever watching from the scullery door, clutching a crust of bread.Her jealousy, a venom she usually kept hidden, now burned on her tongue.
It wasn't just envy; it was a hungry, determined rage. "I'll also get married to a rich man. Just you wait." Her voice was no longer a whine, but a vow. A promise whispered into the quiet air of the cottage kitchen, a spark of rebellion that would one day consume everything. "No matter what it takes. "