I Can’t Wait to Hear What You Have to Say This Time

The forest was off limits to the village children.

The reasons ranged from “You could get lost,” to “A creature might eat you.” Despite this, curiosity got the best of many and they would venture beyond the edge a few steps when a twig snap or bird screech would send them running home, never to enter again.

Sirona wasn’t afraid of the forest. As an herbalist, her mother took her on excursions in search of plants that only grew in the dense foliage. She had gone alone thrice, once in search of berries, another following a rabbit, and the time she had seen a black stallion. Her mother was waiting after each trip, and was so furious the last time that her ink and paper were taken for a fortnight.

This time was different. She’d been summoned by a man she was sure was royalty, given the richness of his cloak. He had appeared the prior night while she was sketching in the moonlight and told her to come alone tonight. He showed no menace and Sirona felt compelled to meet him.

When the moon was high, she climbed out the window and padded across the meadow to the oak tree where she had seen the man.

“Lachhi tjiri rat. Good evening, Princess,” he said softly, stepping from the shadows.

She jumped at his voice.

“Hello! I’m Sirona. I’m not a princess.”

“You are the daughter of Silvanus, the king of the gypsies. You will soon be of age to assume royal duties,” the man stated.

“I’m the daughter of Rafaela. I was told my father was a gypsy, but my mother was banned from the caravan before my birth. This is my home,” Sirona pointed to the cottage behind them.

“Your mother left without telling us she was with child. As an adult you may choose your own path,” he answered gently.

“I’m to be with my mother until I wed,” Sirona said.

“That may be your choice. I would like you to know your gypsy birthright at least” he said kindly.

“How do you know who I am? Who are you?” Sirona said, stepping backwards onto the meadow.

“We’ve watched you from afar, ensuring your safety and good health. We now want to offer your heritage,” he answered, staying within the forest as she edged away.

“I’ll be at the castletown court when you paint the Lord’s family portrait. If you like, I will answer your questions then. For now, know that you are loved, chi shugra, beautiful gypsy girl.” He smiled, turning to leave.

“Wait!” Sirona called.

Meeting her eyes, he said, “You are my daughter.” And disappeared back into the dark.

She didn’t need to return through her window. Her mother was waiting on the bench outside the cottage.

“You’ve disobeyed me again, Sirona. I can’t wait to hear what you have to say this time,” Rafaela said with barely contained anger.

“Mother, the forest contains more than trees and creatures. It also holds my father.”