This Wednesday Morning

This Wednesday morning would be easier than the day before. She would rise, slowly and with a bit more effort from her nannies and maids. She would allow herself to bathe and pamper a bit. She would even nibble a bit while she sat on the plush stool with a pensive look on her face when her meal was brought up for her and placed onto the silver vanity. This week, unlike many weeks before, she would allow her hair to be brushed before she was left to finish her meal. She would eventually leave her room and begin wandering the grounds, a small plush wolf hugged to her chest and a tan piece of paper sticking out from her pocket. She would wander the grounds of the mansion, stopping by the stables to see the horses and to pet their long silky manes. Walking through the garden to watch the birds as they flew and sang as she filled up their feeders and freshened their water. Walking through the mansion’s many halls, watching as linens were changed, clothes were washed, and the rooms were dusted. She would give a small smile to those who noticed her quiet presence that day as the servants went about their daily chores. By the time it was noon, she would be sitting in one of the lesser-used sitting rooms that faced the eastern garden. She would eat the food that was served to her for lunch, her face looking more noticeably flushed and her eyes brighter than they had been in weeks prior. By the evening her feet would lead her to the library doors, where she would stand and ponder. When she did enter its looming shelves and maze-like pattern of books she let her hand run along the shelf. Her hands grazed the spines of every book as she made her way directly to his chair. There she would wrap up in his coat and curl up in his chair, taking out the paper from her uncle and murmuring the words softly to herself.