Lady Rue Demure of Tristesse carried only one weakness. If you questioned her on the matter, she would surely say that it was her love for women. If you questioned the citizens living beneath the shade of her estate, surely they would say it was solitude. If you asked her dear friend La Lune, she would say that Rue’s one weakness was herself. I would invite you to listen to her story and draw your own conclusions.
It started as a simple death. Rue had found herself in a love of sorts with Lady Douleur, referred to by the townsfolk as Le Ronguer — which is “the rodent.” The townspeople whispered of her treacherous heart and venomous tongue, but Madame Demure was nothing if not welcoming. Upon meeting the woman and falling for her earthly charms, Madame Demure found herself in an unworthy union. After one particular night, Madame Demure’s advisors could take no more of their keeper’s ill treatment. Toussaint, the second-in-command of the Demure estate, requested an audience. He stood before Lady Demure with stones in his chest.
“Our Lady, tell me, do you know my heart’s intentions toward you are pure? He asked.
Madame Demure became offended and clutched her chest.
“Of course, you are my most trusted advisor, Toussaint. For you, I would stake my estate and all my accolades.”
“Yes, my lady. Since you have said this, may your advisor speak freely?”
“Go on, dear friend,” she said.
“You must separate from this curse on your happiness. Come now, dissolve this current union, and seek out a suitable partner.”
Lady Demure’s anger was kindled toward her advisor.
“Mind your tongue. You speak of your superior and of my wife.”
“My Lady, I mean you no dishonor. I only meant to bring your attention to an important matter. We have heard her manipulations through the halls. We wait for our lady to appear, yet we see no sign of the woman we once knew.”
“Toussaint, I am a wretch of a woman. I am lucky to be desired by someone of Lady Douleur’s poise and beauty. Who else will I find to stand by my side?” Lady Demure asked.
Toussaint regarded his keeper with doleful eyes. This was the worst of many past lovers. Before Lady Douleur, there were Lady Faux and Lady Avarice. The one pretended to be a lamb, only to unhinge her jaw like a snake prepared to strike. The other only pursued his lady in hopes of personal gain. Toussaint gathered the shattered pieces like seeds and repotted his lady after each crisis. He had grown tired of watching her destroy herself and being forced to clean up the mess. Before summoning the courage to speak with her, he struck up a deal with the other advisors, saying, “If she refuses to care for herself and ignores our revisions, surely our input is no longer needed. Surely, she should give the role to Lady Douleur!” So, after seeing that his keeper was a shell of herself, Toussaint removed his signet ring and kissed it. He placed it harrowingly on the wooden desk between them.
“I will not continue to align with your suffering. If you insist on sustaining this union against your counsel’s vehement disapproval, we shall dissolve our associations with you immediately.”
Toussaint did not allow the lady to speak her piece. He knew the woman was adept at stringing words together. She could be much too persuasive to allow her a word in. He quickly turned on his heels and approached the wrought-iron doors. He spared one last look at his lady before quickly bowing and making his escape. After he had gathered the remaining servants, he took his belongings and marched away from the estate with them. Lady Demure, being broken of spirit and overwhelmed with disdain for her inner man, said nothing. She watched from her bedroom window as her advisors departed with their belongings. Then, being dense with folly, she fell into sackcloth and ashes, saying,
Woe unto me
My servants have abandoned me.
My friends have turned against me.
They have conspired to leave me alone.
My wife reviles my presence.
And regards me as useless.
Though I open my heart,
I am left alone, with only the moon as a companion.
Meanwhile, La Lune regarded her dear friend with puzzlement. She consulted with the stars on what to do about her predicament. Seeing that Le Roungeur had drained every ounce of joy from her life, La Lune devised a scheme.
“I will send a temptation to Lady Dohleur. I will cause her to bring great suffering to our Madame Demure. A suffering so great that she will have no choice but to dissolve the union.”
The following morning, Lady Demure set off on business to replace her advisors. She scoured the town from sunrise to sunset but returned home empty-handed. Upon arriving at her estate, she noticed a wagon tied up outside. It was a deep blue with shiny gold stars hand-painted on the doors. It was like nothing she had ever seen from any kingdom nearby. She crept to the wagon — her curiosity getting the better of her — to find her partner entwined with a young maiden with fiery tresses. Lady Demure wailed aloud and rented her clothes at the sight. However, Lady Dohleur grinned wickedly from inside the wagon and continued her adultery without shame. Lady Demure hung her head as self-loathing overtook her. She slumped forward as if beaten and turned from the wagon, ignoring the groans of pleasure growing increasingly louder. She was ground so low that she felt one with the sediment. A cloud settled over her head so thick and dark that she failed to see the wagon burst into flames, killing both Lady Dohleur and her lover.
When Le Ronguer departed, it left a hole in Rue like a pinprick. It was the smallest hole, but it made such an uproarious whistling when the wind threaded through like a needle. It was a loathsome sound that kept Rue awake at night. She would whisper to La Lune, and the goddess turned still while she lay in her chiffon sheets. She writhed and wrestled with her thoughts until she could no longer withhold them.
“Do you hear that?” she asked.
La Lune rested in the clouds, though Rue could interpret her reply even while she remained still. No. La Lune could not hear the whistling, but it rendered Rue fretful. She took her crescent moon nails and bit them down to stubby pits. La Lune was alive to Rue in ways that defied the laws of space. The night goddess watched on as Rue agonized over her imagined whistling.
“What must I do with La Fille?” I have made her ami de confiance, yet she refuses to see with her eyes.” La lune asked. “Oh! I know I will give her what she desires most. I will expose the deepest portions of her heart. Perhaps then she will hear logic.”
So it came to pass that the still goddess plucked the most vibrant star from the expanse and caused it to supernova. The homicide gave way to a woman comparable to none on Earth. Her hips were like mountains, and the valley between her breasts was supple and dimpled. Her hair fell over them in lengthy ringlets the color of moondust. In the brilliant blue haze of the night, each strand twinkled like a celestial body. La Lune spoke her intentions over her creation and sent her to Earth.
“Gaie Ty, go to Earth and pursue my dear friend. Make her time cumbersome so that she will learn the truth.” La Lune said.
Rue was not fond of being disturbed during her fits. She wallowed in her despair, wrapping it around her like a cloak. She stomped through her home to answer the insistent clang of her doorknocker. She flung the door open with such force that it left a hole in the wall behind it. However, upon drinking in the woman’s appearance, her temperament cooled swiftly.
“I beg your pardon. Are you the keeper of this fine manor?” The woman asked.
Rue stood dumbfounded. Her mouth was ajar, and her throat was dry. The young woman regarded her with a certain allure that wired Rue’s jaw shut.
“Will you lend me your time, fair maiden?” The woman addressed Rue again.
Rue managed to step aside with what remained of her good sense to let the woman into her home. After the departure of her servants, she had no one to clean. She looked around at the mess and invited the woman to sit down. Cups of stagnant tea and other rubbish decorated the tables. Rue’s visitor did not mind. She simply moved everything around and found somewhere comfortable to sit. Rue noticed and was gracious for the woman’s tolerance of her disheveled demeanor.
“Would you honor me with your name?” Rue asked.
The woman was bemused and offered a coy smile.
“I am that which is sought out and found in hiding.” She said.
“You would hide in plain sight?” Rue asked.
The woman smiled again.
“Yes, even from the most deserving, it seems.” She said.
Rue hung her head and watched the woman from beneath her eyelashes. The woman regarded Rues’ golden irises and velvety dark skin as bewildering. She couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Rue was. Even surrounded by mountains of dross.
“Come now; if you will be my guest, I should know what you like to be called.” Rue prodded.
The woman relented, seeing how comely her host was.
“You are to call me Gaie Ty.”
Rue’s ample mouth broke into a Cheshire grin upon the revelation.
“Gaie Ty. What a beautiful name!”Rue said.
Gaie Ty explained the unfortunate events that led her to Lady Rue’s manor.
“Madame. I would be honored to act as your house guest for the time being. I will manage your estate while you tend to business. All that I ask for in return is a place to rest my head and three meals a day.” She said.
Lady Rue pretended to ponder the offer. Of course, she would allow the breathtaking woman to stay with her. It would be too soon for her to take another wife after the adultery and disappearance of Lady Dohleur. However, Rue required a servant. The estate was in shambles, and she was no housemaid. After a brief pause in conversation, Rue agreed to the stranger’s terms.
Lady Rue housed Gaie Ty as the seasons progressed. Rue looked on as she grew well versed in the town’s affairs and tended the manor dutifully. On the eve of the anniversary of Gaie Ty’s arrival, Rue wrestled with a perplexing emotion in her bosom. Her heart grew burdensome inside her chest. So much so, she wished for a professional to remove it! Gaie Ty looked on in anguish as Rue wrestled until she could no longer bear it.
“Miss, may I pose you a question?” Gaie Ty asked.
Rue’s ears were filled with the incessant whistling that followed her around. It had never gone away. In fact, in Gaie Ty’s presence, it seemed to grow more severe. Lady Demure held the bridge of her nose in frustration. Yet even through the ruckus, she could just make out Gaie Ty’s voice.
“Of course,” Rue said.
Gaie Ty steeled herself by clearing her throat.
“Have I done something to offend you? Is that why your countenance is downcast?” she asked.
Upon hearing Gaie Ty’s assumption, Lady Demure paled.
“No, my dear. You have been a great pleasure. Your Lady is concerned with matters of the heart.” Madame Rue said:.
“My lady, please tell your houseguest what troubles you. Perhaps I can be of assistance.”
But of course, Gaie Ty understood that this response was necessary for the truth to be revealed. She waited patiently for the words she knew were coming.
“You have been here with me for one whole year. Each day, I find myself growing fonder and fonder of your presence. I wish to have you for myself, but I am a lowly mortal, and you are a goddess on loan to me. I could never be worthy of you, yet I desire you still. This is my dilemma, Lady Gaie Ty.”
Lady Demure waited for a response in hopes that the woman would sharply rebuke her. However, Lady Gaie Ty looked at Madame Demure in her golden eyes and said flatly,
“No, you could not.”
Lady Demure was frozen with shock.
“I could not what?” she asked, in hopes for a clarification that denied her worst fears.
“No, you could not ever be worthy of me.” Gaie Ty said.
Lady Demure shrunk into herself. Her shoulders slouched forward like a kicked puppy, and her lips quivered with the effort to hold back her tears.
“Then tell me, how can I be worth your desire?” She asked.
Gaie Ty regarded the woman with pain in her chest. She did not see. Gaie Ty cleared her throat.
“Very well. Go up north to the house of your birth. Find your maternal figure and tell her a painful truth. Once you have done this, come to me again.”
Lady Demure trembled in trepidation upon hearing Gaie Ty’s request.
“My dear, that is a difficult appeal. I have not borne the discomfort of my mother’s presence in ten years! However, I would do anything for your love. Please pack my things and prepare my stallion. I will leave at dusk.”
Lady Demure preferred to travel by moonlight in La Lunes Company. She rested when the days grew hot. She watered her horses near streams when she passed them and enjoyed the provisions Gaie Ty had prepared. The closer she drew to her mother’s estate, the more fear overtook her. All the while, she kept up heavy chatter with La Lune, who gave her strength and kept her from abandoning her quest altogether. As she approached her mother’s home, the woman saw her coming and began to berate her.
“What is this wretched gossip about another divorce? I must hear from strangers that you are damned to unlawful attractions, and now you cannot even keep one whore. What good are you?” She said, snarling at her daughter like a lowly indigent.
Lady Demure trembled at her mother’s feet, kissing the ground she walked on. This was the nature of their relationship. Lady Demure knew her mother’s disgust more than she knew the contours of her own face.
“Pardon my failure, mother.” She said.
The older woman regarded the younger woman with obvious repugnance. Lady Demure bore the presence of her mother for seven days under constant scrutiny. With each soul-crushing criticism, anger burned in her chest like hot coals. She had made much of herself since she left home. She was the owner of a powerful estate, which she now maintained by her lonesome, save for her elusive guest. She knew her preferences were disapproved of among the townsfolk, but even they respected her. Yet, her mother still regarded her as’s value, which is worthless. Now that Lady Demure had the chance to think about it, she couldn’t recall a time when her mother had given her any praise. As the sun rose on the eighth day, Lady Demure couldn’t bear to leave her small quarters because she was tormented by an abysmal sadness. This angered her mother, throwing her into a fit of rage comparable to that of a bull. She rammed her horns into Lady Demure relentlessly, until the young woman could no longer sustain the weight of her rejection.
“Enough!” Lady Demure said it in a loud voice.
Her mother halted her assault and stared at her daughter.
“Excuse me?” She asked.
“Mother, do you wish I had never been born?” Lady Demure asked.
Her mother regarded her with a disdainful expression.
“Why would you ask such a foolish question?”
“Why will you not answer it?” Lady Demure asked.
“You are too frail to bear the answer.”
Lady Demure slouched as if hit with a punch to the belly. Salt water flowed from her eyes.
“I have spent most of my life chasing your heart. Now that I know I cannot catch it, I can tell you the truth. I, too, wish I had never been born. Only today, it is not because you had me as a daughter, but because I had you as a mother.”
The senior woman’s face paled, and a small gasp echoed in the growing distance between the two generations. Without uttering another word, Lady Demure rose to her feet. She sauntered to the kitchen shears and took them into her hands. She hacked hastily at her long, dark mane until it touched the tops of her shoulders. She bundled the disregarded hair together and threw it into her mother’s furnace. As the hair crackled in the fire, Lady Demure kissed her mother decisively on the cheek. She allowed the door to slam loudly behind her. As she rode away on her stallion, she knew she would never return to her mother’s home.
Lady Demure traveled by night to her estate. Before she could reach the door, she was shocked to find Gaie Ty waiting for her in the garden. The woman appeared to have grown up to be more lovely. Her hair now touched the tips of her toes. She was dressed in a sheer fabric, something like chiffon. Her body was accentuated by every tuck and fold. Lady Demure panted with desire.
“You have cut your hair,” Gaie Ty called when Lady Demure was not too far off.
“A necessary sacrifice.” Lady Demure said.
“You have learned a truth.” Gaie Ty said.
“More of the same.” Lady Demure said.
Gaie Ty nodded and crossed her arms. Lady Demure stood across from Gaie Ty expectantly. When the woman said nothing, Lady Demure raised her arms.
“So?” She asked.
“So?” Gaie Ty asked.
“I have gone to the place of my birth. I have told my mother a painful truth. Have I proven my worth to you? Will you be my bride?” Lady Demure asked.
Gaie Ty sighed and shook her head.
“You are not worthy.” She said.
Lady Demure doubled over and fell to her knees with her face in the dirt. Gaie Ty flinched at the action. A lady of Rue’s stature should never place her face in the mire. Gaie Ty was ashamed to put the woman through such turmoil.
“My dear, tell me what I must do to prove my worth to you.” Lady Demure asked.
Gaie Ty nodded.
“Very well. Go to the desert of Dénudée and toil there for one year. When you have located and drunk from the river of discourse, return to me.” She said.
Lady Demure grew perplexed at the odd request. However, her heart burned with desire for the woman’s approval. Again, she waited to travel by moonlight, steadily chattering with La Lune about her predicament. She traveled seven nights before the lush terrain beneath her feet turned to ashes. The dazzling foliage grew scarce and sickly until only the smallest twigs remained. For three seasons, Lady Demure wandered the desert of Denudee, living like a pauper. She kept her head low, and her posture bent in pity. She despised being in the desert alone. The thought consumed her. She did not lift her eyes to take in the sky. Now, once per season, rain was summoned to the desert as the moon beckoned the ocean for clouds to send over the valley of naught. On the seventh day of the first month of a new season, the sky would become pregnant with pending rainfall. However, each cycle passed without rain because Lady Demure would utter, “There is no water here,” and void the rainfall just before its release. Spring was swiftly approaching, and Lady Demure grew desperate. As night fell on the eve of her first arrival in the desert, she lifted her eyes to speak with La Lune. When she had stopped pitying herself long enough to lift her eyes, thick, menacing clouds loomed above.
“Clouds! There will be water! I will not die of thirst here!” Lady Demure said.
The moment the words were out of her mouth, rain began to pound the desert floor. Since the sky had been sewn closed like an abandoned child’s mouth, there was an overabundance of water. In the middle of the garden, a river carved itself out with the help of the heavy precipitation. Lady Demure stumbled through the dense mud toward the newly formed river. She could barely recall the previous three seasons without rain or resources. The water from the river of Discord was gelid and sweetened like agave nectar. Lady Demure plunged beneath the surface to soothe her chapped skin. She could feel the strength return to her dried-out bones the longer she lingered in the saccharine water. Lady Demure stayed by the river until night fell once more. La Luna appeared to draw nearer to the earth as Lady Rue began her journey to her estate. She was full-faced and full-bodied. Her cool glow rendered Rue’s skin cobalt. As she closed in on her home — about a mile out — she looked up into the sky and addressed La Lune.
“My dear friend, what shall I be called now that I have returned? A fool or a charlatan?” She asked.
She would go up to the woman she loved and seek out the answer. Lady Demure entered her home and called for the woman. After some time, Gaie Ty came down wearing the moon’s light. A gossamer fabric clung to her shapely body. Her iris glowed a stormy gray with hints of pale blue. Lady Demure regarded the woman before her and turned her back to eclipse her uncertainty. Gaie Ty called to her.
“My Lady. I believe we have a meeting.” She said.
Rue turned around and stared into the eyes of the woman she loved. She stood there, waiting for a judgment. She waited for her work to be approved and given permission to scoop up her bride. Gaie Ty stared expectantly ahead. Rue grew impatient.
“My darling, are you not going to tell me that I am worthy of your hand? Will you let me stand here until the grave swallows me?” she asked.
Gaie Ty sighed and pursed her lips. She shook her head slowly and allowed the words to fall like scalding rain.
“You are not worthy, Rue. You still have not learned.” Gaie Ty said.
Rue stood in front of the woman she loved, rooted like an oak tree.
“No. No, Gaie Ty,” Rue said.
“No, to what, my lady?” Gaie Ty asked.
“You do not get to ask these things of me. You do not get to send me away to toil, suffer, and dry out for your approval to continue to withhold it.”
Gaie Ty’s heart quickened at the woman’s words. She squared her shoulders and held her head high.
“I am a separate person with separate intentions. I have every right to withhold my love. Will you continue to chase it if I continue to dangle it?” Gaie Ty asked.
The lady stood before the woman she loved with her back taught. Her chest grew tight, and breathing became a prison. The woman groaned and fought the sudden urge to vomit and go away from her estate. The incessant whistling had returned. Her quests had taken her mind off the sound. She was too busy struggling to notice it, even in the desert. Now the noise was almost overwhelming. The whistling of an empty space is desperate to be filled. The lady fell to her knees, wrestling with heads or tails. Are not the two opposing sides indeed emblazoned on the same coin? You do not judge a coin by its individual sides. That would damage its overall worth. So, if one side can exist, can’t the other? Are not both sides necessary to be a whole? Rue stood up on her two feet. She planted them firmly on the ground. Her posture was straight as a skilled archer’s arrow. The whistling that had almost killed her abated to a faint sound. Like the noise of a gnat circling your face. She set her jaw and crossed her arms.
“No. No, I will not. I am worthy of your hand, Gaie Ty. However, if you do not believe I am, then I will not continue putting in the effort to convince you.” Lady Demure said.
The two women stood silently for an eternity. Lady Demure wrestled as she craved the desire of the other woman. However, realizing that she had proved her devotion in ways the other woman had not, she stood her ground. When the silence became too much to bear, Lady Demure turned away, intending to leave the estate and everything behind. She would go off to a faraway land and start a simple life of solitude. She would learn to enjoy herself in a city far from her past failures. She would build a new life. She would yet again build herself from the ground up. This time, she would have a much better foundation. All this knowledge did not stop her lips from quivering with disappointment. Despite how much she wanted Lady Gaie Ty, she could no longer risk herself for the strange woman’s entertainment. She wanted to be loved, not tested.
“My Lady!” Gaie Ty said.
Her voice sounded ragged. As if it had held in those words for decades. Lady Demure turned and met the gaze of the woman who loved her. As if a veil had been lifted, she saw her reflection in Gaie Ty’s eyes as if she were seeing it for the first time. Gaie Ty smiled with tears spilling over the gentle swoop of her lashes. She lifted her dress and made a beeline to her love. When their arms entwined, Gaie Ty snatched Lady Rue’s face in her palms and pressed their lips together firmly. The kiss lifted Lady Rue off her feet and into the clouds. Gaie Ty smiled as Rue stood in a stupor and caressed her lady’s face.
“My lady, you were always worthy.”
