Second Extract: In the Hands of Time

Apologies for not posting this sooner. I've been working on some new content, which should make an appearance soon.

You'll find the second instalment of my creative piece below.

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In the Hands of Time

She finds a narrow spiralling staircase, where a rope strung from one wall to another holds a sign. No entry. It is the sort of staircase you expect to find in an old castle. Chips in the stairs. Stone swirling into profound darkness.

Someone is calling her name. It echoes, running up the stairs, flickering in her ears.

“Katherine?” She does not recognise the voice, but she finds herself stepping down, ducking past the dangling sign. She cannot see in the lack of light, so she presses her palm against the ancient walls, taking one treacherous step at a time.

Her feet find the ground at last, but she is not looking at the floor. Across the room, a veil of gold falls from a doorway, and she makes a careful path towards it; the only form of light she can see. She stands in the doorway, squinting into a luminous intensity.

The first thing she notices are the candles. They glimmer upon every surface, each one solitary as lighthouses in the creeping night. Tapestries hang upon the walls, depicting some myth or story. She cannot tell which one.

‘Katherine? Where has she got to?’ That voice again. It sounds as though it is coming from the doorway on the other side of the room.

Are they looking for me?

She walks in, and cold slithers within her for a moment. Just a moment. She shudders to shake it off, her eyes closed. The ground seems to move beneath her. She feels as though she is floating; light seeps under her eyelids, growing brighter. She dare not open her eyes.

It only lasts a moment, and then her feet return to the ground. The light fades away, evaporating like smoke.

When she finally opens her eyes, a woman walks into the room, sees her, and gives a weary sigh. She is wearing one of those Tudor costumes. Katherine assumes that she is one of the actresses for the tours. Noticing the woman’s sharp expression, she suddenly wishes she was elsewhere.

‘There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you. Come, we are wanted by the queen.’ Without another word, she bustles out of the room, her skirts rustling in the movement, like waves forced against rocks by relentless winds.

What just happened? Has she missed something ?

She raises her hand to brush unruly hair from her face. Her arm feels weighed down, and it is then she notices that she is not wearing her own clothes. She looks down at the pale folds of an intricate costume. Her head is heavy; uncomfortable under the weight of an angular hood.

She does not remember changing her clothes. Before she can wonder any more, the woman returns. “The queen is waiting! You know she does not like us to be late.’

‘I- ‘

‘We have wasted enough time already. The Lord knows I spent most of it in search of you. Now, come. Not another word.’

More skirt rustling. At a loss, she hurries after her.

‘Wait, I think you have me confused with someone else. I’m just here to look around the castle.’

That stops the woman in her tracks. She whirls round to face her; her wide eyes crackle at one with the surrounding candles.

‘Lady Katherine, you are here to serve Her Majesty, the queen, not to wander around the castle like a mindless goose. Your family appealed to me to appoint you to this most privileged position, so that you may learn the ways of the world and become a respected lady of the court. Come along. We will not keep the queen waiting a moment longer.’

They come to a narrow passage way. Katherine remains hesitant, struggling to keep up with the woman’s heavy pace. Her skirts get in the way, and she trips often. They pass many doors, all of which are closed, until they reach an imposing double door at the far end. Two men, dressed in red livery, stand guard at either side. When they see the approaching women, the doors open without a word.

She stands like an intruder in the doorway. She has never seen a room like this. Unlike those she found during the tour, nearly threadbare with age, the tapestries here are vibrant with ancient stories, draped from ceiling to floor. In the one nearest to her, a woman, dressed in red and gold, glances with admiration at the king seated above her. They are frozen forever in this silent exchange.

A firmly spoken ‘Lady Katherine’ draws her gaze away from this display, and she enters the room slowly. A group of women are seated before a large fireplace, sewing quietly. Their hands are poised between stitches, eyes fluttering as they attempt to look at her and their work all at once.

Is this part of the tour?

Everything looks so real, so vivid, and every miniscule detail in place. Even the women look as though they are part of another world. She notices that many of them are not much older than herself.

Katherine is suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of awkwardness. Her entire body feels uneasy in the layers of clothes. She does not belong amongst these women who sit so easily within their seats, and yet, she does not want to break this peculiar spell. She must play along.

She follows the woman as she drops into a deep curtsey, wobbling a little. She does not know who she is doing this to. She has never curtseyed in her life.

‘Please.’ A gentle, lilting voice speaks out from amongst the women. Katherine rises slowly, her eyes searching for the speaker, until she encounters a soft, hazel gaze.

‘Your Majesty, you must forgive Lady Katherine. I found her wandering about the place. She is still new, and does not yet know how things are done.’

‘I remember my first time here at court. I was in such awe. I had never seen another place like it in my life. I know what it is like to come to a new place and have things expected of you.’

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