Mila

Leave it to my sister to talk ill of someone right in front of them.

I am careful not to let my dismay show on my face. Shooting the handsome nobleman an apologetic smile, I allow my sister to drag me away. Her grip on me is tight enough to send tingles up and down my arm.

She pulls me to the side where no one is near.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks, her voice dangerously low.

I swallow the sudden lump in my throat. “I was just. . . he asked me to dance. I was being polite. He seemed nice enough—”

“What is wrong with you?” Vera hisses. “You can’t be seen with just any nobleman that seems nice. Everything you do reflects on me. You need to be respectful.”

The insult stabs into me, even colder than her gaze, but I keep my head bowed. “I’m sorry. . . I wasn’t thinking.”

Vera sighs with exasperation. Twining her arm around my shoulders, she turns me so I’m facing the dance floor again. She nods at the nobleman I was dancing with. He’s found another partner, a beautiful woman wearing a deep sapphire blue dress that shimmers in the light.

“Do you really think that man is worthy of dancing with you?” Vera demands. “Compared to us, he is nobody. We are Alisova women, Mila. That means only the finest men deserve to be in our presence. And you let him touch you?”

She shakes her head in irritation. I wish that she didn’t need to put down others in her quest to improve my value.

“I meant no offense,” I say carefully. “It won’t happen again.”

Vera leans away with a tsk, but satisfaction dances in the gold of her eyes. “Good.”

Her reaction instantly sours my mood and I no longer have the desire to dance, let alone be in the presence of company. Especially if it means following my sister around and moderating myself so I don’t offend her.

“I’m tired and my head is throbbing. I’m going to lie down for a bit.”

She frowns, but after a moment of studying my face, she waves me away. “Fine. Go.”

I don’t wait around to give her a chance to change her mind and quickly leave. On the way to my bedchamber, I pause at the gallery and stare at the images of my parents hanging on the wall.

“I’m sorry, Mama, Papa,” I whisper to their portraits. I hope they are watching from overhead as everyone celebrates them.

My intentions weren’t to disrespect their memory by leaving the festivities early, but I simply can’t be here anymore.

Every year on this day, I feel closer to my parents. This time is different.

Ever since our eighteenth birthday, Vera has become more and more insistent, stubborn, and cruel. Nothing is ever about the two of us anymore. Everything is all about her now. Her word is law.

With each passing day, it’s becoming more and more draining as I try not to upset Vera. Unfortunately, that leaves little room for my own thoughts, my own life.

As I reach the silence of my bedchamber, I feel the tension leave my shoulders. A deep sigh of relief leaves my lips as I collapse on my bed. I gaze up at the ceiling, studying the delicate floral pattern—painted with a deft hand.

Although I’m away from the madness, my thoughts still swirl with thoughts of my sister, as if I can’t escape her, even when I’m alone.

I think of Vera and I as flowers sometimes. She is a vibrant and beautiful rose covered in thorns, desired no matter how dangerous she is to pluck. Next to her, I am a fluttering begonia, forced to bow under its own weight, gentle and unnoticeable.

The sound of soft scratching catches my attention and I abruptly sit up in my bed. Jumping up, I follow the noise to my window where I spot a small figure moving outside my window, waving to try and get my attention.

Pushing the window open, a little golden light flies in and begins twirling around me, winking in and out like a star before settling on my shoulder.

Pale blue eyes blink from a tiny face. “Why do you allow her to speak to you like that?” she asks before I am able to say anything.

“Adelina, you were there?” I stare at her in disbelief. Adelina is a fairy and tends to avoid other humans at all costs. Like most of her kind. History has taught them that. Humans and fairies do not usually get along.

Adeline is very protective of me and our friendship, though. Truth be told, she’s been my only true friend for most of my life. It gets lonely living in such a luxurious place with no parents and a sister who tends to think only of herself.

“Of course I was there,” she replies, pushing her long, blonde hair over her shoulder.

I wander back to my bed and sit once more. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

She hovers in front of my face, her arms crossed. “Vera shouldn’t have stopped you from dancing with that human male. He wasn’t doing any harm.”

“I have to keep up a certain image, Adelina.” I hear myself mocking my sister's words as I wring my hands and look down at my gown that Vera insisted I wear. “He was nice, but. . .”

“You don’t really believe that he wasn’t worthy of dancing with you?” She floats in front of me and places a tiny hand on my face for comfort. “Don’t let her words take root in your head.”

Lowering herself to the bed, Adelina takes my hand. The touch is so light that I barely feel it. “I wish you would stop letting her force you to be her shadow. There is more to you than just being her sister. You are just as worthy of respect and admiration as she is. Just because she is going to be queen doesn’t mean that you have to bow your head and fold to her every whim.”

I shake my head. “It’s because I am her sister that I must. Vera is going to be queen. Things are not always going to be easy, but no matter what, I have to keep the peace.” My mind drifts. “It’s what our parents wanted.”

So many times Mama or Papa took me aside and reminded me of that. Whenever Vera took something of mine or insisted on doing everything first, I would argue and cry and then our parents would take my hand, kneel down to my level, and explain to me that I must pacify her.

“This is very important, Mila," Mama used to say. “Vera is only going to become more headstrong as she grows up. It may be difficult to handle at times, but she is your sister. You must make things work with her.”

“This is what I have to do, Adelina,” I continue. “For the good of the kingdom, this is my duty.”

Adelina peers up at me, her pretty eyes full of pity and disappointment. “You are my friend, Mila,” she says softly. “I love you, but this isn’t right.”

***

I stand in the doorway of my father’s office, waiting for Vera to acknowledge my presence. I haven’t seen her since last night at the party, but her summons seemed urgent.

She sits at the massive mahogany desk, looking every bit the impatient queen. Gisele and the trio of our attorneys are here, too.

Their expressions are all business and authority, and though Gisele’s eyes are lost in the distance, the attorneys gaze at my sister with fearful respect.

“Finally, you’re here,” Vera says sharply as I step inside. I quickly apologize and fall into line beside Gisele. She puts a gentle hand on my back, her touch feather-light.

“Go on.” Vera nods at one of the attorneys as he steps forward, producing a scroll from his robes and sets it down in front of her. His dark eyes gleam with barely contained excitement.

“This is a list of your suitors, Your Highness.”

So, my being here is more of a formality than anything else. This is an announcement for her, but it would look odd if I am not here acting as witness. It’s an important decision.

Whoever she marries will be the next king.

She pores over the scroll with interest. Her eyes dart back and forth as she reads each name. She levels her gaze back up to the attorney’s. “Bring them in. I want to see them.”

Her order is swiftly obeyed. Within minutes, four young men are brought into the office for Vera’s inspection. They are all handsome, with charming smiles and polite bows when each of them is introduced.

Vera examines every detail of their faces and clothing. Once she is done scrutinizing them, she sends them out with a flick of her wrist. She barely waits until the office door is closed before she huffs, unimpressed.

“What about this last one?” Vera asks, tapping the scroll with one sharp fingernail. “Rafael Von Nacht. Where is he?”

“He will be arriving by ship tomorrow, Your Highness,” one of the attorneys answers. “He has traveled a long way to come meet you.”

She makes a rude noise of annoyance, then turns her attention to me.

“Mila, you will meet this. . . prince at the dock when he arrives tomorrow.”