Living in a castle wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

At first, Sapphy had been in awe of just about everything. She had her own temporary bedroom in Morgana’s quarters while castle staff were doing up a special suite for her on the opposite side of the corridor, having furniture made especially and everything. Sapphy had been called over to pick colours and patterns, select wardrobes from a range of styles, make decisions about whether she wanted carpets or wooden floors with rugs. She could choose to take her meals in her bedroom alone, where a servant would bring it up for her, or she could dine with Morgana in a special room just for eating in. She had the run of the castle and its grounds and was encouraged to meet some of the other young people.

After a month of living the high life, the novelty was starting to wear off. The other ‘young people’ were boring snobs who looked down their noses at Sapphy, assuming they looked at her at all. Most of them seemed to think she was staff. The servants were annoying in their quantity, always just there. Increasingly, Sapphy started to spend her time shut up in her room, growling in frustration whenever anyone popped their head around the unlockable door.

Without privacy, it was hard to do any of the things she wanted to do but didn’t want Morgana knowing she was doing it. She’d yet to meet a boy she thought was fit enough to have sex with, so that mostly meant knitting.

It was Morgana who had introduced Sapphire to knitting, months ago when they’d lived in Olive Grove together. She had it in her head that Sapphy couldn’t ‘do nothing’ and had to be engaged in some kind of hobby, educational activity or apprenticeship. Sapphy had obligingly followed her to every bloody club in the Commune and either accidentally or deliberately made a mess of it, ensuring she was never invited back. The Ladies’ Knitting Society had certainly not been impressed with her demeanour, but Sapphy had been impressed with their craft. It would be way uncool to admit that, so she’d taken to ‘borrowing’ wool and knitting needles whenever she could get hold of them, stashing them under her bed, and having another go at it when no one was around.

Today she’d been turfed out of her room so that the servants could do a deep clean, so she’d had to find somewhere else private. The linen closet had seemed appropriate. Sapphy had left the door open just a crack so that she had a glimmer of light and sat huddled in the dark, clicking away with her needles, engrossed. She didn’t notice the door opening and the little boy toddling in, but she did jump when the door slammed shut. The closet plunged into darkness.

At first Sapphy didn’t react, other than to drop her knitting needles in surprise. The little voice started her back into action.

“What the fuck?!” She shouted, shoving her knitting and needles behind some folded linens. Even though it was dark, she didn’t want the lights to suddenly flick on and reveal her hobby. Satisfied with the security of her secret, the thirteen year-old Brummie clambered to her feet and started to make her way back over to the door, swearing as she kept knocking into things. She finally reached the door handle, slapping away the little hand which was already there, and tugged and twisted. No good. It must have locked automatically from the other side, because the door was not opening. Sapphy whipped around and squinted through the darkness. “Watcha do that for, ya moron?” She demanded to know. “Who the fuck even are you?”

sapphire.