Stable boy

Sylva is alone in the world. She lives in a manor with her mom but still her mom wants her to live on high society. She can't, not with having to marry Hash in a year or with her love of horses. Then she meets Jane. A girl hiding in her stables, together they start on a journey to freedom.

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I snuck along the night, cool air wiped at my face.  My paint, from tree roots, stuck and as it rubbed my skin.  “Hurry up,” I whispered to my brother who trailed behind me like a lost puppy.  “I want to sleep,” he wined.

I paused and let my feather hover over the paper.  The party’s music echoed below me.  I let my thought travel to Boston.  The biggest thing was how did these people get the courage. And, why?

“I know but we have to because,

I stopped again.  

“Time to rejoin the party,” I complained to the walls.  Then I looked at the walls.  They closed in where outside was so free.  I screamed, and let the wild animal in me out.

Then I whent to the party, no thing of wild fear here.  

I scanned the room.

“Did you hear?” asked a floating voice that I knew well.

“Amelia,” I greated.

“Well did you hear about the tea party?” she asked instantly.

“Yes, one of the older men told me,” I answered.

“Well can you imagine it being true!” she practically shreeked.

“That is for you to figure out,” I said then added, “either way it is a good story”.

“I know, and did you see how that man looked at me,” said Amelia rapidly.

I rolled my eyes at her.  I needed someone to talk to as a friend and when you asked your rich, party loving mother, you get gossip girl as that person.  “Want to find someone to dance with?” I asked politely.

“How about that young man?” she suggested pointing at her boy friend.

“Go for it,” I said without enthusiasm.

“See you later,” she said walking across the room.

Now I could go back to my room with the thought that this was some silly gossip that I could twist into a story.

“Because we need to,” I told my brother.

“But why,” he whined sounding like a girl, and for that I was annoyed.

“Use better grammar,” I barked.

“Sorry,” he wined.

I ignored him and concentrated on my aching feet.  I had ran all day for my Master, as a blacksmith apprentice it was part of my job; to deliver some of what he made.

Soon the harbor came into view.  

I Let a yawn escaped me.  Time to stuff this under my bed.

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