Cataline sighed and walked back into her room from the balcony where she'd been watching the sun set. She loved watching the blaze of colors fill the sky. It was one of her greatest regrets that she didn't get to enjoy it more often.
"I'm here, mother," she called back, wearily settling herself on the small chair in front of her vanity.
"Oh, good!" her mother exclaimed, panting slightly from climbing the stairs. "Kyleen will be up in a moment to brush your hair and help you change for bed. Don't forget that tomorrow's a very special day!"
"I won't, mother," she said quietly, gazing at her reflection in the mirror and dreading the coming day.
Sensing her daughter's distress, her mother moved to stand behind her, gently laying her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "It'll be alright, Cataline," she murmured gently. "Kyleen will help you get ready and no one will notice. Never fear." She kissed the top of her daughter's head before leaving the room, pausing for a moment at the door to look back. Anger once again coursed through her as it did every time she saw her daughter's scarred face.
Cataline had always been a beautiful girl, ever since she was a child. Unlike the other children in the town, growing up with extreme wealth and privilege had not spoiled her. She was kind to anyone and everyone including the servants which had greatly concerned her mother. The servants were there to serve, they didn't need or deserve kindness or respect. As far as her mother was concerned, they weren't even human. But her daughter didn't agree and it was with growing distaste that she watched the servants respond to her daughter's kindness and generosity, asking for little favors, speaking when they had no business to, paying more attention to Cataline than to their work. She'd had no choice but to come down hard on the servants, it wasn't her fault that the one sick female had died after a particularly harsh beating. But the daughter of the female hadn't seen it that way, she'd placed the full blame upon her and had taken out her rage and pain on Cataline.
Caught by Cataline stealing a set of very expensive throwing knives, the wretched girl had sliced open the left side of Cataline's face, leaving a deep gash that ran from her hair line to her jaw, just barely missing her eye. Though the best doctors were called to tend to her, there was little they could do to prevent the wound from leaving a terrible scar. Surrounded as she was by other rich children with flawless skin and cruel natures who teased and mocked her at every opportunity, she slowly withdrew from the company of others, preferring to spend her days in the library reading, in the music room playing her piano, or at her desk sketching the flowers that she so dearly loved.
It pained her mother to see her so withdrawn. Once a great beauty herself, known and envied throughout the town, her mother wanted the same for her daughter. She wanted to see Cataline rise to new heights within their society. If only the girl was more confident, more outgoing, and less sweet, perhaps then something could be done.
Cataline watched her mother go with a sense of relief. She loved her mother, she truly did, but she hated the disappointment and pity she saw in her face every time her mother looked at her. As Kyleen hurried in and began the nightly ritual of brushing her long hair one hundred strokes, she continued to stare at the mirror, absentmindedly running one finger along her scar.
She often wondered what had become of the girl who'd delivered the blow that left the scar. She didn't blame her, didn't hate her. The girl had been in pain, grieving the sudden loss of her mother. If she blamed anyone for what had happened, it was herself, for fraternizing with the servants as her mother called it. If she hadn't been so determined to make friends with every person she met, perhaps none of it would have happened. But as a child, she just hadn't been able to understand the divide between the rich and the poor. To her they were all people and deserved to be treated equally.
Now that she was older, she understood the division between classes, or she at least understood the concept of it. But twelve years later, she still didn't understand why they couldn't all be treated equally. It seemed like things would be so much better if that were the case. What could they accomplish if they all banded together?
Later that night, standing on the balcony once more looking up at the stars, she made a wish as she had every night since her injury. She wished that a time would come when everyone was equal, when the rich and poor would stand side by side and there would be no animosity. As she made her wish, stars began to shoot across the sky, more than she had ever seen. She stared in awe at the spectacle. Surely it was a sign. Perhaps, at long last, her wish would be granted. Hope filled her heart as she stared at the night sky, alive with the light of the stars soaring across it. Change was coming, she could feel it.
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