Kestrel is the niece of the castle head chef, Marben.  She has been sent to the castle to live and work.  She believes her primary purpose for being sent to the castle is to take care of her uncle- His rise to being head of the kitchen staff means that he spends day in and out caring for the needs of the palace, but there is little time to care for himself.  She takes care of his personal living area. ironically cooks for him and works in the kitchen- at least that's the plan.

Kestrel has lived above the old tailor's shop in the center of the village for her entire life.  At four her mother began teaching her needlework and how to sew.  She took to it like a fish to water.  Her natural quiet demeanor, creativity, and attention to detail soon made her into an adept seamstress; however, it soon became apparent to her father and mother that she lacked a commitment to fashion protocols and she quickly became an embellisher with a considerable talent in beading and embroidery.  Over time, her skills helped the family business, and she began working with finer and finer materials, though truth be known, she prefers simple stitch work to gems and jewels..

Kestrel's clothes are simple to match her tastes and status. She wears a plain white linen blouse and brown woolen skirt.  A brown cotton bodice done up with a bit of cording sits over a blue apron.  Only if someone bothers to look closely will they discover the intricate needlework along the base of her apron where she has practiced a difficult stitch for use on a nobleman's doublet.  Similar practice runs can be found along the edges of her sleeves, along the neck of her blouse and around the contours of her bodice.

If anything stands out about Kestrel, it is her pale blond hair inherited from her mother and her light brown almost golden eyes inherited from her father.  The combination is striking and it is a trait that she shares with her twin brother.





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Kestrel sat on the edge of the bed near the attic window overlooking the street and threaded the tiny, silver needle for the twentieth time.  Nearby, Asha and Hershel, still too young to be required to contribute to the family business, jumped from bed to bed, playing some new form of amusement.  Benita sat watching Kestrel’s every move.  While it was impossible for the fourteen year old to somehow learn everything her older sister had tried to teach her over the past two years, she still seemed intent on trying.

“I don’t understand why Mother and Father are sending you today,” Benita muttered, watching Kestrel roll the knot between her fingers.  “You’re birthday is next month.“

“I don’t know, Beni,” Kestrel sighed.  “They have their reasons…  Alright watch closely.” Leaning toward her sister, Kestrel pierced the fabric, catching the bead and tightening the string.  Doubling the stitch back upon itself, she secured the pearl with hardly a speck of thread noticeable on the fabric.    “You try.”

Taking up the bit of velvet, Benita tried to recreate the stitch but her fingers were about as nimble as an ox on a frozen pond.  The stitch work was large and loose, the pearl sagged on it like a dead spider.  With a huff, Benita tossed the fabric, needle, and cup of seed pearls onto the patch quilt.

Kestrel scrambled to secure the cup and its contents before the pearls tumbled off the bed and disappeared into the floorboards.  “Benita!”

“Mother and Father should send me to go help Uncle Marben,” Benita muttered, folding her arms and pushing back into the pillow.  “You don’t know the Prince from the stable boy.”

Kestrel shrugged.  She had never seen a point in thinking about much more than the latest garment she was beading, helping her mother in the kitchen, or seeking her own amusements during her scant moments of free time.  If the hours she spent beading and embroidering clothes for the nobles taught her anything, it was that there was a giant difference between her life and theirs.  To spend so much of one’s day worried about a new pair of gloves that looked exactly like the pair that was made the week before…  She shook her head.  Frankly, the few nobles she had met- like Lord  Vanderwell, her nose wrinkled at the thought of his long leering stares, didn’t make her even the slightest bit interested in meeting more.  Benita on the other hand was obsessed.

“You’re no better with a broom and a spoon than you are with a needle,” Thallen’s voice, deep now after last winter, sounded so much like her father’s Kestrel had to look up to see her brother enter the room.  With three long strides, he jumped sidelong onto the bed.

Again, Kestrel was sent scrambling after pearls.  She glared at him.   “Thall!” she said.

He chuckled.  Reaching into his vest, Thallen pulled out a small bundle.  Kestrel caught it as he tossed it to her.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“It is your birthday,” he said.

“Our birthday,” she corrected, “not until next month.”

“And…” Thallen pushed at her shoulder. “You’ll be at the castle, goose.  Open it.”

“But…”

“Open it!  Open it!” Asha and Hershel bounded onto the bed beside Thallen, crowding Benita off the pillow.

Kestrel looked at her siblings.  A small pang that she’d been ignoring since her parents gave her the news grew a little larger.  They were all that she had known and now she was leaving them.  She knew that she needed to go.  Her absence would help the family make ends meet.  Thallen too was planning on leaving.  He’d discussed it with her long before their parents presented the idea of her going to work in the palace kitchens.  He had talked about joining the military for at least a year- though Kestrel doubted her parents knew.  He wouldn’t wait much longer than their birthday before he too stepped out of their little shop into the world.  Unlike Kestrel, Thallen was restless, moody, and quick to action.   She squinted at him.  What was he up to? She wondered.  Her eyes drifted down to the bundle- it wasn’t like the family had money to buy presents.

“What is this, Thall?” she asked.

“A present,” he answered.  “One I’ve been saving.”

Now she was really confused.  Tugging at the knots, Kestrel slowly unwrapped the folds of cloth.  Finally the bundle fell open.  A tiny silver box lay in the center.  Picking it up, Kestrel opened it.  On the bit of red velvet a needle and thimble glinted in the afternoon light.

“Thall?”

“They're enchanted,” he said.  He touched the box.  “The needle is strong- it won’t break or ever get dull and the thimble.  If you put it on, you’ll always be able to find the needle.”

Kestrel picked up the two items from the box.  “Where did you…”

“I’ve been doing odd jobs on my own time.  Helping the soldiers- mending, fixing boots and such.  One day one of them gave me the box as payment.  He said that they belonged to his grandmother.  I thought I’d give them to you, since I’m…” He paused looking uncomfortable in the midst of the younger siblings.  “…since I’m not going to see you again for a while.”

Shaking her head, Kestrel returned the needle and the thimble to the box and tried to return it. “Thall, I can’t.”

He folded his arms.  “Sorry, it’s a present.  You can’t give it back,” he said.

Kestrel frowned.  That was her game.  For years she had given up her piece of fruit, cheese, or whatever little splurges ended up on her plate to her younger siblings, telling them that presents couldn’t be returned, so they might as well enjoy them.  It was unfair that Thallen was using it on her now.  It bothered her even more that she knew the significance of him giving up the two enchanted items.  If he was really following in father’s footsteps, they would be invaluable tools, but if he was leaving… there was no need for tailor tools in the midst of battle.

“Kestrel!”

All the heads in the loft turned toward the stairs as their mother’s clear voice carried up to them.  At once there were glassy eyes.  The two youngest allowed the wet tears to stream down their faces while Benita and Thallen tried to hold them back.  Kestrel passed through a curtain of arms, all the while swallowing down the knot in her throat.  Gathering up her cloak and the carpet bag with her meager belongings, she walked toward the stairs.  She kept the little silver box in her hand, until she reached the railing.  She had a thought of leaving it on the workbench downstairs.  At the very least her father could sell it for supplies, but as she looked at her brother she realized she might not see him again--the one person who knew everything about her.  They had spent every moment of their lives together…  Opening the latch on the carpet bag, she slipped the box inside, gave her siblings a warm smile and a wave, and descended the stairs toward her new life.