The Punishment that fits the Crime: Day 1

Day 1

The screams had ceased, so my lord, Robin, snuck a peek through our prison window. “Marian! My lady!” he gasped. “The screams have stopped.” I smiled, and ran toward his smile as bright as day.
“My lord! I was waiting for you!” I blushed. “I knew you would come.”
“Who was screaming?” I gestured to my maid.
“My maid. Her name is Mohan.”
“Mohan.” Though the tiny window was too small to see properly, I smiled at him. “Give me your hand, dear. I want to see you.” I stared down at my hands. Though Mama had said I had beautiful hands, I hated them. I noticed Mohan gazing fondly at her tiny perfect hands. I made her stand, and pushed her right hand through the window. She jumped, probably at the feel of Robin’s gloved hand.
“Mohan.” I ordered. “Mohan, sing for Lord Robin.”
“Which song?” Mohan is a holy girl who sings certain songs which seem to make people heal or do whatever the song is about.
“The song of healing,” Mohan licked her lips nervously. I could tell that this was the highest ranked person she had ever sung to – besides me.
She began singing about a little lost bird that flitted from branch to branch, looking for its home. Finally, the bird finds its mother and its nest, and the two share tales of their adventures. I pulled Mohan’s hand out of the window, the song having given me courage, and stuck my own hand through the window.
“I brought you something, dearest.” He pressed a large bag into my hand. “Sassafras seeds. I also included a sassafras branch, for you to snap and smell.” I pulled in the gift, and reached back out. He held my hand in his big one. I used my left hand to reach into the basket of laundry and pulled out my prettiest evening gown with tiny ivy leaves embroidered on it.
“It’s mine.” I said, pushing it through the window. “But I want you to have it.” He lost his grip on my fingers through the cloth, and I instinctively reached for him again. I write now from the bed in the second floor. Mohan snores from below, so I shall get some sleep.