Jada Chamberlyn tossed in her bed, staring up at the canopy above her. It was almost 3am and she was wide awake. None of the servants would be, nor would any of her family members; she slid out of her bed. Over her violet silk pajamas she slipped on a white robe. It wouldn't do much to keep her warm, but it would at least provide some sort of protection against the night air. Her Henshin pen she left in the drawer of her night table. She pulled up her hair into a loose ponytail, just to get it out of the way, and on bare feet she padded over to her balcony doors. They were pushed open, and she stepped out onto the balcony. The stone was agonizingly cold on bare feet, but she didn't even notice it. She stepped down the circular staircase that led up to her balcony, heading for the back.
The cobblestone path was rough on tender feet but she didn't notice it. Something in the night was whispering to her. Something in her dreams tortured her.
She dreamed of a lover. Colors spun, her hair tangled with his own. His hands were powerful, firm, gripping her hips and pulling her to him with desire. His lips on hers were warm and firm. Sometimes she woke in silent tears for a lover she had never had. The tears that dripped down her cheeks weren't tears of sorrow. They were tears of shame. Because she was a coward.
When Jada woke, she struggled for breath; lungs seized with the desire to hold to her dream and the feeling within.
He wasn't real. He never had been. And he never would be.
Her own dreams would fade because she couldn't bear the thought of her mother's displeasure. Before she was 19, she'd find herself the unhappy bride of someone who was twice her age (if she were lucky he wouldn't be older.) And what purpose would it serve? Some fantasy of her mother's that she had married in her own class? Was the older woman not happy with the sacrifices and the successes of her husband? Apparently not; all four of the Chamberlyn children knew Szelem was unhappy.
An only daughter, at seventeen Szelem Montgomery had defied her parents and married Michael Chamberlyn. She was given $100,000 and removed from her parents will. Szelem had gotten a fine laugh when ten years later he was a millionaire, starting with that “small” amount of money. At twenty she'd given birth to their first child, Jada Marie. Neither had thought it would happen; nor had Jada's grandparents. The Montgomery patriarch, mellowed by the loss of his wife, relented to leave his money to family. Every penny of his estate was tied up in a trust fund in Jada's name for when she turned eighteen. The old man had died before Zora and Kayley were born or it may have been different. Szelem had never forgiven her parents. And yet as Jada grew, Szelem had found herself more and more like them. Kayley and Zora were able to hold themselves apart; by the time they were born the Chamberlyn family had a nanny. But Jada had grown up in her mother's arms, rocked to sleep by her parents when she had nightmares. Jada had been doted upon, a small miracle after thirteen years of a barren marriage. Lucas was the son, to him fell other expectations aside from a marriage that would bring him comfort. And Szelem had been forty when he was born, an even greater miracle. Being five years younger than Jada, Kayley and Zora had grown up with the nanny; it was to her that they ran, and their mother's increasing demands for her daughters didn't matter to them. They were the lucky ones.
The eldest Chamberlyn child couldn't bring herself to break her mother's heart by being like her. Furiously Jada kicked at a small rock in the path, sending it flying across the lawn as she headed for the walking pond. Hissed in pain at her own blow to the small stone. Her feet were too tender to go around abusing rocks.
She shouldn't feel this way, not with the demands that had been placed on her. But her sisters, and her little brother, had always been close to her. The parents sat above them, they weren't part of them. Jada didn't want to find herself a part of some placed family like she would be if she married one of the men her mother was encouraging her to. She wanted a man who would make a family with her, not to be stepmother to a boy as old as or older than she was.
Someday Jada wanted a family full of laughter and happiness, not the stern silence of her parents marble halls. She wanted a home that felt lived in, with mess and carpet instead of oriental rugs, and she wanted her children to have a room where they could draw on the walls if they wanted to. She wanted pictures on the refrigerator, and she wanted cheerios, and a table small enough to see the faces of her family.
She wanted to wake in the arms of someone she loved.
Could she break her own heart by being what Szelem wanted her to be?
The cobblestone path was rough on tender feet but she didn't notice it. Something in the night was whispering to her. Something in her dreams tortured her.
She dreamed of a lover. Colors spun, her hair tangled with his own. His hands were powerful, firm, gripping her hips and pulling her to him with desire. His lips on hers were warm and firm. Sometimes she woke in silent tears for a lover she had never had. The tears that dripped down her cheeks weren't tears of sorrow. They were tears of shame. Because she was a coward.
When Jada woke, she struggled for breath; lungs seized with the desire to hold to her dream and the feeling within.
He wasn't real. He never had been. And he never would be.
Her own dreams would fade because she couldn't bear the thought of her mother's displeasure. Before she was 19, she'd find herself the unhappy bride of someone who was twice her age (if she were lucky he wouldn't be older.) And what purpose would it serve? Some fantasy of her mother's that she had married in her own class? Was the older woman not happy with the sacrifices and the successes of her husband? Apparently not; all four of the Chamberlyn children knew Szelem was unhappy.
An only daughter, at seventeen Szelem Montgomery had defied her parents and married Michael Chamberlyn. She was given $100,000 and removed from her parents will. Szelem had gotten a fine laugh when ten years later he was a millionaire, starting with that “small” amount of money. At twenty she'd given birth to their first child, Jada Marie. Neither had thought it would happen; nor had Jada's grandparents. The Montgomery patriarch, mellowed by the loss of his wife, relented to leave his money to family. Every penny of his estate was tied up in a trust fund in Jada's name for when she turned eighteen. The old man had died before Zora and Kayley were born or it may have been different. Szelem had never forgiven her parents. And yet as Jada grew, Szelem had found herself more and more like them. Kayley and Zora were able to hold themselves apart; by the time they were born the Chamberlyn family had a nanny. But Jada had grown up in her mother's arms, rocked to sleep by her parents when she had nightmares. Jada had been doted upon, a small miracle after thirteen years of a barren marriage. Lucas was the son, to him fell other expectations aside from a marriage that would bring him comfort. And Szelem had been forty when he was born, an even greater miracle. Being five years younger than Jada, Kayley and Zora had grown up with the nanny; it was to her that they ran, and their mother's increasing demands for her daughters didn't matter to them. They were the lucky ones.
The eldest Chamberlyn child couldn't bring herself to break her mother's heart by being like her. Furiously Jada kicked at a small rock in the path, sending it flying across the lawn as she headed for the walking pond. Hissed in pain at her own blow to the small stone. Her feet were too tender to go around abusing rocks.
She shouldn't feel this way, not with the demands that had been placed on her. But her sisters, and her little brother, had always been close to her. The parents sat above them, they weren't part of them. Jada didn't want to find herself a part of some placed family like she would be if she married one of the men her mother was encouraging her to. She wanted a man who would make a family with her, not to be stepmother to a boy as old as or older than she was.
Someday Jada wanted a family full of laughter and happiness, not the stern silence of her parents marble halls. She wanted a home that felt lived in, with mess and carpet instead of oriental rugs, and she wanted her children to have a room where they could draw on the walls if they wanted to. She wanted pictures on the refrigerator, and she wanted cheerios, and a table small enough to see the faces of her family.
She wanted to wake in the arms of someone she loved.
Could she break her own heart by being what Szelem wanted her to be?
