R O L E P L A Y
with greatest regret
solo (Jehan Crake, Petra Crake, raven stunted)
in which Petra receives a letter that crushes her dreams.
"Petra, there is... a message for you on the dinner table."
The phrasing was strange and Petra understood instantly when she saw the scene before her. The messenger on the dining table was not so much frightening or alarming, just... odd. It brought fleeting thoughts of ravens and crows -- some sort of black bird -- to her mind, but there was something decidedly un-birdlike about the creature. A letter, crisply folded, was clenched in its beaky mouth. When Petra reached out to take it, the creature dropped it on the table. It cawed a few times, bowed low, then hopped out the window.
"Who is it from?" asked Jehan. "Were you expecting a letter from anyone?"
"No, I -- " Petra stopped as she unfolded the delicate parchment. Her eyes jumped to the bottom, and the breath caught in her chest as she recognized the name: Lettie Arelgren.
She'd been waiting for this moment for weeks and weeks, but now that the time had finally come she found her hands were shaking and her eyes refused to tear away from Lettie's signature. Petra forced herself to breathe in deeply. It came out in a shuddering exhale. What was the worst that could happen?
The words on the paper seemed to echo audibly in her mind. Excuses and apologies formed an elegant, melancholy dance on the page -- Lettie was too busy, Petra was too young, too inexperienced, too ill. Sorry. Petra became aware that her face felt like stone, infallible, unbreakable. She kept reading, determined to make it through every word. With greatest regret. At the time Petra felt she was being brave, strong. Later, she would realize she was simply naive. A fool. Somehow, though she'd always known that rejection was a possibility, she'd never truly believed it could happen to her.
"Petra, is everything well?"
She looked up to find her brother looking at her uncertainly. It was an expression Petra was not unused to seeing on him, at least nowadays, whenever he looked at her. "I'm fine," she managed to get out, and then her face contorted and she couldn't hold it in anymore. She turned and ran.
"Petra!"
Distantly, Petra thought as she fled to the comfort of the bedroom, that in the past Jehan would have known what to do. He would have chased her, held her close, forced her to tell him what was wrong and then made everything better. Now, it was as if he didn't have a clue what to do with her. As if she was the one that had changed, not him, not the rest of the world. It was an unfair and petty assessment, she knew. He needed time to adjust just as much as she did. But in the end, no matter what excuses people made, it all came down to one simple truth:
No one, not her hometown, not her family, not the Order of the Nightingale, wanted her.
For the first time since she arrived at her brother's home, Petra buried her face in her pillow and let herself cry.
