One tower, stronger than two. The girl thought as she stacked the tower as high as she was.
Crouching under the table, not out of fear or shame.
But out of comfort.
She was unusually tall for a girl her age, but she thought she was just the right type of tall because she could still fit under the table.
She found no other place to crouch down here. She was short enough to sit, but tall enough that her head would occasionally bump against the back of the table.
The girl built with blocks a palace fit for a king. She stole the wooden tiles from the carpenter's shop and took the resin from the forest so that the glue would stick. She carved them himself. So proud and even signed her name on the corner.
It's a shame she had to rescue them from the fire her father threw into it.
Her father didn't like her playing with wooden carvings or building things. In fact, he didn't like her doing any of the things she liked to do. like wearing pants or swimming or fighting or doing anything.
Sometimes she catches him staring at her with anger and frustration.
Father always talks over me when he's dealing with important matters. It didn't matter that the subject was her.
She looked at everything but him. The patterns of the carpet and how they all fit together. The patterns phasing in and out are always overchanging. She had been trying to solve this puzzle for many days and had failed.
"I could also kill her. She's an abomination of nature," he said with a certain degree of uncertainty. As if her existence bothered him, but it would take too much effort to get rid of her. He noted indifferently, "There will be new boys sold at the port today. I'll just add another boy to the list."
The guard, one of his most trusted advisors, tilted his head, asking, "What do you mean?"
He sat back in his chair in the lazy way only a lord can have. "I mean, he's not my daughter anymore. Prepare the mage to do a binding spell to cast on him and then give him away to the next boat."
The girl thought, Does he intend to sell me?
To be fair to the guard, he gave a glance before asking, "Are you sure, sir?"
Her father, who raised her, without hesitation answered, "Yes." While she was still hidden under the table shivering from fear. The girl knew better than to run because nowhere was safe.