"One Act" to save a life

In the Glass Palace where nothing stops growing, the halls overfilled with vines covered in different hues of purples and blues, Rheya was always stuck in the library, surrounded by the clearest air in the entire castle. A pot of crimson Mandeville hangs at her side and she reaches out to touch the soil, causing a surge in the plant and growing another foot of red flowers, that spill out around her feet. She looks down at the many beautifully written words scribbled on the page but gazing out the countless windows and walls of Glass, only make her ache for the breeze the wind admits.

She knew she would never be allowed to leave, but with the festival to honor the moon and sun, happening tonight, she still wondered if she could sneak out to the rooftop. Although Rheya is considered an adult to the court, at 16 she is still a child in her mothers’ eyes. And although Rheya had attempted many times to let her out on the roof, her mother had always said no. That she couldn’t allow Rheya to ever leave the Palace, and that even her mother doesn’t know what will happen to Rheya when she leaves.

With so many questions, and never understanding the responses, Rheya assumed it was her title that kept her locked away. The princess of the Glass Palace, sewed to the secrets of this nightmarish greenhouse. Her powers of growth, and the strong connection she always felt to the plants that grew everywhere.

She sighs and with a clean pinch of her thumb to fingers, the novel that was resting in between them snapped close. She yanked at her navy silk gown and set the book down right where she had just been sitting. Then scanning the room of her four bodyguards, she suddenly realized that none were watching her. So, shifting her weight suddenly she snuck behind the big bookshelf. The one that towers over all the other shelves, this tall one is home to all large maps and rolls of script from ancient times before the Glass Palace was constructed. Rheya had no care towards a time before she or the Glass Cage were in existence. She understood only this, when she was little, as she does now, that if she leaves the Glass Encampment, millions will suffer.

She still longed to see the outside though, to feel the direct heat from the golden sun on her polished skin. Keeping her head low she removed each of her slippers and set them aside, she turned and attempted to run towards the exit, only to meet face to face with one of the four bodyguards, Sorrell. She grew up with Sorrell at her side, perhaps he might be the only one in the Glass castle she could really trust with her secrets.

“Hello, Your Majesty, off escaping again, are we?”

Rheya only shrugged in response, remembering that if Sorrell knows she’s attempting to escape, there will be no getting around him. Every attempt she has ever carefully crafted or pulled together with the tightest of knots had always been undone and found out by Sorrell. He was a constant shadow in her life, and although that could sound annoying, Rheya found it comforting to always have someone she trusted, standing behind her.

He smirked and removed his hidden arm from behind his back, and in his fist was one, partly smooshed, marigold flower. The colors were vibrant, and it looked as if this flower was in an interview, attempting to catch Rheya’s eye and be reborn as fall itself, with beautiful yellows and deep oranges, it made Rheya smile.

But as soon as her smile came, it fled quickly, “Where did you get this?” She met Sorrell’s gaze, worry flooding her every nerve, “It’s an older flower from before the Glass Palace was created.” She started to feel a wobble in her connection to the plants, like something was wrong with her.

“I found it a few miles from the South entrance, your majesty.” Sorrell gave Rheya the flower, and in her hands, it instantly started to decay. Sorrell raised an eyebrow as did Rheya. “How do you know it’s an old flower,” Sorrell curiously watched her, as she turned the stem over and over in her palm, the flower started to become stiff with death. Sorrell stood up straighter and placed his hand on the handle of his sword, but Rheya didn’t notice.

“My mother has taught me a lot of things, Sorrell,” Rheya took a few steps around the giant bookshelf, Sorrell followed, and placed the flower on the large wooden table in front of the fireplace that is always lit in the winter. “But I don’t think I remember her telling me anything like this.”

The fire crackled once and only received a second of recognition from Sorrell, before he looked back at the three other guards, raising a hand signaling to them that all was not well, and that they should return to their posts at the queen’s side. As they shuffled away, bowing to Rheya as each one passes, she crosses her arms, “What is a marigold flower doing blooming in the middle of winter,” she paused, “not to mention that no one has seen one in over two decades.”

She squinted her eyes in suspicion at Sorrell, who instinctively threw his arms up as if defending himself from any sort of accusation, “Hey I just thought it looked pretty and you like pretty things. Though,” They both look down at the dead marigold again, “it’s not really pretty anymore.”

Rheya scoffs, “You think? Look at this,” bending down to touch the flower when it makes contact with her finger it instantly turns to dust.

“Oh crap,” Sorrell steps away from Rheya looking at her with fear and hatred, which only causes her to laugh, as she missed the hatred part considering she had never seen Sorrell’s expression of hate.

“Don’t worry, big baby,” She jumps towards Sorrell whose eyes widen as he tries to run from her grasp, but she catches him, touching his bare hand, for just an instant.

He pulls his hand away fully expecting to see a mark of decay there, instead he shoves his hand into his pocket, clicking his tongue at her and looking away.

“See, you’re fine.” She coos at him and pushes the marigold flower dust off the table, “Now I just have to inform Mother on what you found, follow me.” She waves for Sorrell to follow her through the library as she passes him. He waits for her to pass him before taking his hand out of his pocket to look at the ashen mark of decay Rheya left behind. Sorrell swallows, knowing what must be done, he looks at the ground and prays that she can forgive him.

In the throne room, Rheya’s mother, the queen, sees Sorrell trailing behind Rheya like usual, so she doesn’t suspect anything, not until Rheya feels someone grab at her wrist and shove her to the floor.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Rheya screams to whomever is pinning her down, “Unhand me right this instant, or you will never live to-“

“Silence!” the queen’s voice echoes through the room, pausing to point at her daughter, “Sorrell,” she says, leaving Rheya gasping and screaming for Sorrell to help her.

“Bring her to me,” the queen says instead, “What has happened?”

Rheya is pulled to her feet again as she gasps for air attempting to calm her nerves. Still unsure about what is going on, she yanks her head to see who has her arms wrapped and seeing her beloved best friend Sorrell as the culprit, forces her to become angrier. Spouting nonsense words, she would only ever say under her breath.

“It’s not lady like to curse, Rheya.”

“What is the meaning of this mother?”

“You tell me.”

The queen looks at Sorrell expecting an answer, “Nature is no longer on our side.” The queen answers by raising a brow and only saying, “Any proof?”

With that, Sorrell snatches Rheya’s wrist, taking her finger he presses her pointer into his neck, causing the searing sizzle of his skin to echo the room. Rheya screams and tries to pull her hand away, she yells for her friend, “Sorrell!” Her eyes swell with tears, even if she doesn’t understand what is happening, she never wanted to cause Sorrell any arm.

The queen doesn’t answer, and looks to Sorrell, she nods once, and Sorrell lets go of her arm, shoving Rheya to the ground once more. Stepping away, he draws his sword pointing the blade towards Rheya.

“Up.” He demands from her.

“What is happening to both of you, what is going on!!?” Rheya screams towards her mother, “Mother please, I don’t know what is happening to me, I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“I’m sure you didn’t honey, but-but Sorrell’s in pain because of you, - and I just,” The queen pauses trying to remember, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry what was the line again?”

“CUT.” The director yells, and sighs, “You know what everybody, lets just take it from the top again.”

Sorrell jogs over to Rheya helping her stand up, “Sorry, was that last shove too much? I can definitely tone it down if you need me too?”