The fire crackled in the small furnace next to my book shelf. I added the little fire wood I had to fuel it. The cold winters were unbearable even if you had two large furnaces to heat you up. The maids often bring me fire wood and matches when they enter my chamber to bring me my food. They probably feel pity.
It wasn't new to me - being an object of pity. No matter how unfortunate someone was they'd always pity me, the loved royalty of Partha ,
now forgotten and hidden away for good.
No one knew where the hatred of father towards me originated from or why. After Ma died everything changed - which I was never really fond of.  I still remember the day of my seventh birthday Ma hung a newly woven tapestry up in my room . It was made just for me. The carefully sewn lilies were brought out by it's black jute base. The pop of colour was added by the green and yellow satin threaded leaves . For days I contemplated on whether I should take it off or not. Even the littlest of changes disturbed me. Now? I didn't have to worry about change. There's not much you can do when the people around you don't want you to be seen or heard from. My life in this small chamber was as mundane and dull as the clouded skies of the monsoons or like the droopy leaves that was stripped off of their green virgin hue, after a heavy rain.

I knew a way, a possible way to save this place. However did I want to save it...or rather them.
Partha was where I was born where I made those Memories with Ma . It wasn't the Partha I doubted saving rather it was them- Father, who wanted to completely forget my existence, his new family, all of them who forbid me from knowing the cause of Ma's death, those who didn't question father's decision. I did not want to save them , but as long as this place exists I do not wish to lose the little part of Ma I can remember. I want to remember the garden we used to play at, the library we used to read in, the hall we used to dance in. Those hazy memories of her are so precious .I didn't want to loose the place that held those memories. Maybe, just maybe father would love me again if I saved them. Maybe if he knew i wanted what's good for them, maybe just maybe if he knew I was the reason everyone could be saved , I would be welcomed again as  his daughter and as a royalty again. That very little hope that ignited within me , that little possibility was the reason I chose to search for her . I slowly walked up the shelf and picked out the thin delicate book. The blue booked with its spine coated in silver, had her name in the title, written in the same silvery ink. Looking at it sent chills down my spine. I had read it and been read to uncountable number of times. The words were imprinted on my brain. I could possibly even recite the whole book if I tried hard enough. Just as I was about to crack the book open, I heard sounds through the door. It sounded as if someone was trying to unlock my door. A lady , or rather a girl burst open through the door. She looked a little older than I. Her hair was neatly braided and pulled back , her face was greasy with sweat and her face held a troubled expression. She was wearing a dress , a uniform with the crest in the middle of her collar. Before I could ask anything she grabbed my wrist , tighter than I expected her to and ran. She rushed downstairs as screams and shrieks of uncertain citizens echoed throughout.