Leera tugged at the hem of the dress. Despite the flowery pattern of the sleeves and the train that resembled a peacock’s tail, the word that best described the dress was ‘constricting.’ The maid had pulled the corset and bodice so tightly that Leera now thought of her upper and lower body as two separate entities.
The only comfort was that Maya looked even more miserable in her dress. The usually nimble assassin was dolled up to the point of absurdity. She wore a gown made out of rubicund silk, cashmere, and feathers, which could only be described as a marvelous monument to impracticality.
Leera took a careful step in the heels, which were much too high to walk in properly, and looked at herself for the first time in the floor mirror. The lace-creature that stared back at her looked nothing like the small town girl she had seen in the mirror back home. It had her vanilla hair, pale skin, and her downcast turquoise eyes, but that’s where familiarity ended, and the bizarre princess’s dream began. It was weird, but she kind of liked her new look.
“You do realize I’m not a Caeli woman?” Maya complained and blew away the white feathers of her updo that kept falling into her face.
“Our nation’s traditional wardrobe is compulsory in the court, Lady Maya,” the maid said and tightened the laces of her bodice further.
Maya grunted at the added discomfort. “I hope your brother is worth the suffering.”
Leera nodded slowly. She remembered the days after Aelar was swallowed by the lake – the crushing loneliness, the tears of unquenchable sorrow, and the guilt of not being able to fly over and save him – she had eventually returned to the orphanage only to find the doors locked. She had banged her knuckles bloody on the unrelenting wood. Nobody answered. And slowly but surely a hollow realization crept up on her. She was alone in the world.
She couldn’t decide which was worse, losing him or learning that he’d been alive all this time and had decided to neglect her.
The maid rounded Maya and, once again, started pulling at the laces that crisscrossed her back.
“I swear, girl. If you touch that thing one more time, I’ll slice off your fingers.”
The maid pouted visibly and shot her a dark look, but decided to back off.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Whoa! Look at you,” Bryne said and strutted into the dressing room.
“Shut up, okay?” Maya said. “I didn’t eat anything this morning to fit into this contraption, and I’m already annoyed.”
“For your information, I was talking to Miss Eirey,” Bryne said, smirking, “But I suppose you look presentable too.”
Maya scowled. Bryne offered his arm to Leera, who, despite her mixed feelings about the man, was thankful for the support. Without help, she doubted she’d make it out of the room in those shoes. She had to admit that Bryne looked quite handsome with his fiery hair tied into a neat bun and his beard charmingly trimmed. His outfit was simple but elegant – an embroidered tabard with a thick silver sash, velvet pantaloons, and polished leather boots.
“Lord Eirey is ready to receive you,” one of the guards said.
“He better be,” Maya muttered and stomped out of the room with Leera and Bryne in tow.
----------------------------------------
The throne room of the castle was austere. The banners were rolled up, and the chandeliers were covered. The chairs of the seating area had been stacked, the tables placed along the walls, and the tall windows blinded. Even the massive throne itself was draped. A single wooden table, flanked by armored guards, dominated the floor of the room.
“Lord Aelar Eirey, Custodian of Castle Saltgale, and Regent of the Kingdom of Caeli, bids you welcome,” one of the guards announced.
The man with cropped silvery hair lifted his eyes from the paperwork in front of him. Leera’s heart skipped a beat. It was really him – twenty years older and much thinner than she remembered him, but it was definitely her brother.
“Brother!” she said and broke free from Bryne.
She managed to stumble all the way up to the table before the guards there crossed their halberds and blocked her way.
“I can’t believe you’re alive…” she mumbled, suddenly embarrassed over her outburst. “What happened to you… why didn’t you reach out… why…?”
Aelar tilted his head to the side and gave her an unimpressed look. Leera’s throat tightened, she felt like crying, but she forced herself not to. Her brother’s gray eyes were like steel shields, hard and unforgiving.
“Aelar, please.” She tried her best not to sound desperate. “Don’t you remember me?”
He ignored her and emptied his goblet on the floor. He then made it float through the air towards her.
“Melt it,” he said.
“W-what?”
“This is gold – you’re an Isobender,” he said. “Melt it.”
“I can’t… I mean, I’m not.”
The goblet dropped to the floor with a loud clanking sound that echoed between the stone walls. The throne room went silent for a moment. The corners of Aelar’s mouth dropped. Leera had seen the expression every time he had unsuccessfully tried to teach her how to fly.
“You’re as pathetic as the day I left,” Aelar spat. “You were always useless.”
Leera felt herself shrinking. His words felt like a sledgehammer to her chest. She gasped for air, blood pounding in her ears. Bryne said something that earned him a punch in the gut by one of the guards. Maya stormed out of the room.
“It doesn’t matter. Send word to Felthorne that I have something he wants,” Aelar said to one of the guards. “Oh, and find that old fool, Quick, and cut out his tongue for lying to me.”