The Hotel at the Top of the Mountain
Erraline sat at her balcony looking out at the pearly sky and snowy peaks that surrounded her. Dove-gray clouds softened the stark black and white mountains that ringed the hotel on all sides.
This was her favorite space in her rooms, out here alone with the open sky and cold mountains. Being with them made all her frustrations seem very temporary, they cleared her thoughts and made her feel like something would come, something might change.
"Erraline?"
A voice wafted out from inside, and Erraline sighed. She lifted her head and enjoyed the wind against her face a moment more, skirts ruffling against her legs, stray hairs wafting away from her neatly done hair.
The balcony door opened with a chuk and Erraline turned away from the wind.
"Erraline? There you are, it's time to begin your lessons."
Erraline followed Madame Oyena into the little library that served as her schoolroom.
Madame Oyena looked just a little too young to be called 'Madame', with soft cheeks, round blue eyes, and a small nose. Her hair was always completely covered by a head scarf tied at the top, and she wore simple, well-cut clothing made from sturdy brown and blue cloth. She was sensible and very well-educated, and not the type to be cajoled or convinced of things she did not find convincing, all qualities well-suited to be a tutor to the daughter of the owner of the Hotel on Top of the Mountain.
Erraline was also young, younger than her tutor, only fifteen years old and already a beauty. She had clear, fair skin and almond-shaped eyes, and her long black hair fell in undulating waves to her waist when it was let down. Her lips were sweet and dark and her eyebrows soft and high, and she made a beautiful scene quietly sitting beside her tutor all morning, listening attentively and answering all questions.
But as soon as her tutoring was finished and Madame Oyena left the look of quiet attentiveness slipped away and was replaced by a dull sort of boredom. She walked into the game room, the white skirts of her fitted dress swishing around her ankles, and played a game of pool against herself. She won within the minute, expertly sinking every ball, and then sighed, dropping the cue on the carpet and going into her room, shutting the door behind her even though there wasn't really anyone to shut out.
She paced forward and contemplated her sewing machine. She already had more dresses than she could count, and her dolls had dozens.
She fell heavily onto the bed instead. Light filtered in through thin linen curtains and she wondered, as she often did, about her future, about the plans her father had. She wondered if she would be married off to a man her father wanted to inherit, or if he would just give the hotel to whoever he wanted without involving her at all. She rolled over and looked out the window. Her thoughts turned to the same place they invariably went, to change.
Erraline had lived in the same set of rooms for as long as she could remember, her only companions her tutors and nurses, and the rare trips out of her suite and into the rest of the hotel were like life to her. She drank in her new surroundings like a drowning man gulping air, only to be thrust right back into the suite again. The only thing that kept her from going crazy were the mountains and the books. For years, ever since her voracious appetite for reading had surfaced, her tutors made sure that the books in her library were regularly rotated, so that she nearly always had something new to read. She devoured history mostly, history and novels. So long as it was a story about other people and other places, Erraline was happy with it.
But the bookshelves hadn't been filled for months, and she didn't feel like re-reading anything right now. She felt a familiar ache in her soul to do more than just sit around being taught, she wanted to actually live, it didn't have to be anything spectacular, she didn't mind it being an ordinary kind of life, but she wanted it to be less mundane than this. She wanted a little bit more freedom, a little bit more change.
This was her favorite space in her rooms, out here alone with the open sky and cold mountains. Being with them made all her frustrations seem very temporary, they cleared her thoughts and made her feel like something would come, something might change.
"Erraline?"
A voice wafted out from inside, and Erraline sighed. She lifted her head and enjoyed the wind against her face a moment more, skirts ruffling against her legs, stray hairs wafting away from her neatly done hair.
The balcony door opened with a chuk and Erraline turned away from the wind.
"Erraline? There you are, it's time to begin your lessons."
Erraline followed Madame Oyena into the little library that served as her schoolroom.
Madame Oyena looked just a little too young to be called 'Madame', with soft cheeks, round blue eyes, and a small nose. Her hair was always completely covered by a head scarf tied at the top, and she wore simple, well-cut clothing made from sturdy brown and blue cloth. She was sensible and very well-educated, and not the type to be cajoled or convinced of things she did not find convincing, all qualities well-suited to be a tutor to the daughter of the owner of the Hotel on Top of the Mountain.
Erraline was also young, younger than her tutor, only fifteen years old and already a beauty. She had clear, fair skin and almond-shaped eyes, and her long black hair fell in undulating waves to her waist when it was let down. Her lips were sweet and dark and her eyebrows soft and high, and she made a beautiful scene quietly sitting beside her tutor all morning, listening attentively and answering all questions.
But as soon as her tutoring was finished and Madame Oyena left the look of quiet attentiveness slipped away and was replaced by a dull sort of boredom. She walked into the game room, the white skirts of her fitted dress swishing around her ankles, and played a game of pool against herself. She won within the minute, expertly sinking every ball, and then sighed, dropping the cue on the carpet and going into her room, shutting the door behind her even though there wasn't really anyone to shut out.
She paced forward and contemplated her sewing machine. She already had more dresses than she could count, and her dolls had dozens.
She fell heavily onto the bed instead. Light filtered in through thin linen curtains and she wondered, as she often did, about her future, about the plans her father had. She wondered if she would be married off to a man her father wanted to inherit, or if he would just give the hotel to whoever he wanted without involving her at all. She rolled over and looked out the window. Her thoughts turned to the same place they invariably went, to change.
Erraline had lived in the same set of rooms for as long as she could remember, her only companions her tutors and nurses, and the rare trips out of her suite and into the rest of the hotel were like life to her. She drank in her new surroundings like a drowning man gulping air, only to be thrust right back into the suite again. The only thing that kept her from going crazy were the mountains and the books. For years, ever since her voracious appetite for reading had surfaced, her tutors made sure that the books in her library were regularly rotated, so that she nearly always had something new to read. She devoured history mostly, history and novels. So long as it was a story about other people and other places, Erraline was happy with it.
But the bookshelves hadn't been filled for months, and she didn't feel like re-reading anything right now. She felt a familiar ache in her soul to do more than just sit around being taught, she wanted to actually live, it didn't have to be anything spectacular, she didn't mind it being an ordinary kind of life, but she wanted it to be less mundane than this. She wanted a little bit more freedom, a little bit more change.
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