The next two weeks passed with agonizing slowness, as we were confined strictly to routine. The tutors we were given over to, loyals of our sire and the Jii’Hssen, were strict and harried. While Phaeliisthia’s lessons were often obtuse, overlong, or staggeringly difficult, nothing could have prepared me for the sheer exhaustion of mind and body through rote repetition.

Worse yet, every lesson seemed to go the same way.

“Bow like this.”

“Phaeliisthia already taught us.”

“No, like this.”

Sure, we’d get it “right” quickly most of the time, but that hardly made the tutors less frustrated. Only Lissti, my old nanny whom I barely remembered, seemed to treat us nicer. Ssiina had said the reason was jealousy that Phaeliisthia had taught us so well, so these tutors tried to snag our scales with the tiniest mistakes.

Kyrae just thought they were being petty because they were forced to teach an ea along with lamia, and that their lessons were being compacted to near-uselessness.

I figured maybe they were just jerks, but I held my tongue. Held it around the tutors, anyway. For the moment, I was still considered a child and I was going to abuse these last two weeks for every single tail they were worth.

Unfortunately, me still being a child cut both ways. Sire, the Jii’Hssen, Aunt Zaiia, everyone was plotting and us sisters weren’t involved. There were no knives in the dark that we knew of, but even with the shadows as timid as they were in the Emerald Palace, I could still hear echoes of whispers and lingering traces of clandestine meetings throughout the halls.

Since visiting Ynna, I seemed to have a greater control, a greater depth to these curse-borne powers of mine. I guess I just wasn’t as afraid now with that chapter of my past resolved. At the same time, that lack of fear… well it didn’t scare me. That wouldn’t really make sense.

It… it made me anxious. Apprehensive. I’d seen the beast in the void, and it had seen me, yet I still lived and slithered the material plane. There wasn't fear now so much as there was a sense of anxiety.

Uncertainty, rather than doubt, was the cause. These powers, if left without outside aid, would kill me. They’d nearly done so a dozen times or more these past few years.

I just didn’t know when.

How, I knew. Why, I had some guesses.

But when?

That was the question. That was the only barrier between me and using this power for my and my sisters’ gain. Jaezotl would not have seen fit to allow one such as me to exist if he thought I were prone to blasphemy. That, or I hadn’t yet crossed that line.

I’d been close, perhaps, in my darkest days. But Sire, the meteoric rise of my new life, Ssyri’zh Onussa and those like her within the Temple, and most of all Phaeliisthia had grounded me. The ancient dragon revered Jaezotl in a very different way to us “mortals.” Yet she still revered him, and lived as guardian of the third holiest site in all the Empire.

On the outside, I wanted to remove the curse and be done with it. But Phaeliisthia’s words stayed with me, or at least the concept of them. If a near-deific—but importantly not—being were to tether to me, and I could seize power from them?

Why in the world would I decline?

Especially now. We had enemies coming for me, enemies who would come for Kyrae, and enemies who would come for Ssiina by association. And today we were set to get even more.

Ideally, we’d also find allies, but I wasn’t putting all my weight on my tail tip.

Just think of it like another test, Issa.

“You’re marvelously still today, Hssen Issa,” Lissti said just loud enough that I jolted.

Her carefully held brush pulled away, but not fast enough, smearing powder across one of my cheeks. I felt bristles tickle the back corners of my mouth, beyond my lips, as it passed.

My former nanny said nothing, but she did exhale slowly through her nose. Her greenish-brown hair had been done up in a bun, and the lights of the room made her skin look even paler than usual. Tapping powder out of the brush, she dipped it into one of the many jars on the table next to us and twirled it slowly. “It is my fault for surprising you, Hssen Issa. I beg your forgiveness.” She said the words formally, but without apprehension.

“Granted.” I smiled at her familiarity. “I think there might be a bristle in my mouth.”

“Open slowly then. I need to clean that cheek and start again anyway.” She set the brush against the edge of the bowl and grabbed a cloth, damp with something acrid-smelling.

I forced myself not to nod reflexively like I’d been doing for years now and complied. At the same time, I took a chance to look at the others. Ssiina was getting her makeup done by some servant she knew from before, and the lania’el lady who must have been hardly older than we were was chatting away amiably. My hssen-raised sister’s ornate silken dress for the evening, like all our garments, prominently featured royal green as I had come to know it. A sort of rich, vibrant emerald. Hers, however, prominently featured gold, matching better her eyes.

Kyrae was sitting somewhat stiffly, on a stool that clearly didn’t fit the décor of the lavish powder room. Clearly, someone had requested furniture for an elf, and someone else had assumed servants. Though it was worse than what the few elven servants had. They dressed well, though the shadows had told me of their discontent.

The woman doing Kyrae’s makeup was stiff enough that even I noticed it, and Kyrae looked like she was set to finish even after Lissti fixed me. While her stool was fit for a ssen’iir, Sire had ensured her gown was fit for hssen. The primary green of Kyrae’s garb was the same royal color, leaving no doubt as to her status. However, an earthier green joined browns and bronzes and mingled with the copious gold and gems we all wore, and that were sewn into each garment.

Lissti finished wiping my cheek, taking care past my lips. It tickled a little “Mouth closed. Chin down.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

I re-hinged my jaw and closed it slowly, looking down. My own dress for the evening was… certainly something.

Something unbelievable. Nearly matching Ssiina’s, its rich green almost seemed to glow, and the emeralds sewn in around the hems of my wide sleeves glittered with every little motion. It was comfortable, fit like a second skin, and oozed opulence. Where my sister’s more prominently featured gold, mine featured a darker shade of green and hints of black threading.

Despite living as royalty, in a way, for nearly half a decade, the fact I was hssen still hadn’t fully sunken in. Limitations of childhood, and of everyone making all the big decisions for me and my sisters were to blame. Now, though?

Well… we were going to Hesuzhaa Jii’ssiisseniir, the Spring of All Life, soon after tonight. The circumstances had changed, with my curse likely to be revealed sooner rather than later. Ussyri Noksi at the Temple knew, but so far as I’d been told, few others outside the top classes of ssyri’ssen (and our friend Ssyri’zh Onussa) did.

This last decision, and our mission, weren’t mine. Not that I’d do any different. The Spring of All Life would hold something that could help. Whether we found it through espionage or by asking really nicely, that was still to be determined.

Unfortunately, we’d be receiving even more schooling in the meantime, much of which would be review of Phaeliisthia’s lessons. Although the histories of Jaezotl did interest me.

Maybe I wasn’t so close to independence.

Hssss.

“Almost done, Hssen Issa.”

I hadn’t realized I’d hissed out loud. Blushing, I was about to open my mouth to apologize, when Lissti interrupted.

“Please keep still, Hssen Issa.”

I did, and the whole ordeal was over mercifully quickly. Lissti held up a mirror of polished silver when she’d set the last of her brushes down, and I took in my reflection. Emerald eyes jumped out at me first, vibrant and nearly glowing like gemstones set in a rim of dark shadow and big lashes.

The shadow around my eyes curved down on the outside like a pair of fangs, dark against my skin whose tone was deepened and polished by expertly-applied powders. Along the lines of my mouth, past lips hued a darker green that matched my scales, a similar black had been traced, marking my face like a holy serpent’s.

My shallow nose, likewise, had been dusted to look almost scaled, blended to appear flatter and more serpentine. Strong cheekbones drew down to an almost delicate chin, and back up to my pointed ears, studded up their lengths with rings of gold and simply-cut emeralds.

The curve of my trimmed brows led into hair that had been expertly styled. Twin thick curls fell down, one to either shoulder, framing my face. The back had been tucked behind my ears and coerced into a gentler series of curls, almost like natural waves down past my shoulders.

Every part that needed to, glimmered in the brightness of the powder room, and the shadows that served to highlight seemed to suck in light. I almost didn’t look like me.

I looked like a me that could’ve been. And, I supposed, a me that would still be. At least for tonight.

With my face schooled into a serene posture, I looked nigh-unapproachable. Someone that ussen wouldn’t risk offending, or that pickpockets would stay well clear of. Not only that, I’d become acutely aware of my size the past weeks, and I wondered how I ever thought I could pass as lania’el. Or ke’lania with my fangs as they were.

Honestly, I looked dangerous.

And I liked it. A lot.

Ssiina had a similar aesthetic, nearly my twin save for her golden lips and less-intense eyes. Kyrae… was different. The shadow around her eyes was thinner, brown-tinted above, and flared up at the edges. Her lips were, oddly, an almost-reddish color, and her hair was done in braids, each tipped with a gold bangle.

She didn’t look any less like royalty. Just a little different; a little less “serpent” and a little more “elf.”

Together, we cut quite the trio, and I briefly wondered just how much what we were wearing was worth. More than a ssen’iir would ever see in their lifetime. Perhaps more than some kss’kaa, or a minor ussen managing one of the imperial territories.

My sisters and I said little as we coiled around a low table in a lounge outside the powder room, though we all stared rather openly at each other. Nothing really brings the weight of a moment to bear like wearing enough wealth to buy a city… probably. This was far beyond any value I had a true concept of, even after Phaeliisthia’s lessons.

Eventually, Sire Tyaniis arrived, Dyni shadowing her. Our sire was dressed similarly to all three of us. Her ornate dress had Ssiina’s gold, my black threading, and a touch of earth tones that were present in Kyrae’s dress. Her makeup was similar to mine, and on her it looked downright fearsome. Were she not family, my first reaction would have been to run.

Do I look like that? Couldn’t be the case, right?

She looked at me and stopped suddenly as she crossed the threshold, Dyni almost crashing into her. “Issa… for a moment, I thought I was looking at Hinssa emulating my own makeup.” She shook her head and slithered the rest of the way inside, letting Dyni follow and pull the door closed. “Guests are gathered already; I’ve given my speech. I would ask if you three are ready, but it would not matter—the time is nigh.”

She glanced between us. “However, I can ask how you’re feeling.”

Kyrae answered first. “I am excited, Sire. Perhaps a touch anxious, but I will do all of us proud.”

Tyaniis smiled, fangs showing. “Marvelous. How about my eldest?”

Ssiina swallowed. “I am ready, Sire. Not… you said not like it matters, but I am. Exited too… and nervous.”

“Breathe, Ssiina.” Sire leaned down and ran a hand carefully through her hair. “Remember this: you outrank all of them, and if not yet, you will be superior to them. Do not underestimate your peers or your elders, but understand that your magical prowess is already impressive. I am proud of you, truly; other than your sisters, there are few who hold my respect.”

Ssiina seemed to glow even more than the magical lighting and her makeup already made her. “Thank you, Sire.”

Tyaniis smiled and turned to me. “And my youngest?”

“I’m excited. Plain as that. I’m tired of having all the big decisions made for me. Not that I resent it, or anything, it’s just that I’m ready to be an adult and decide my own life’s course.”

Tyaniis snickered and patted my head. “Then let me treat you as my child this one last moment, Daughter mine. Now rise, all of you, and let me check your clothes to make sure nothing is amiss.”

As a group, we lined up. Sire Tyaniis swiftly went between each of us, tilting spines and minutely adjusting clothes. I caught Dyni’s eye in the corner, and the bodyguard swiftly hid a big smile with one hand, though her eyes glittered with tears.

Indeed, when Sire pulled away and inspected us one last time, her eyes were wet. “I love you all, and I apologize for my gross failings as your sire.” She bowed, then rose. “I will ever endeavor to make things right. Now, hold still a moment.” Her hands moved as a blur, and a complex sigil array floated in the air before her, strung out of green-gold light.

Already, it looked as though it were burning away to nothing, disintegrating back into the air. Tyaniis slithered quickly over and up behind us. At the last second, Dyni moved closer, at Sire’s beckoning hand. When the array faded, a light washed over us.

“There,” Sire said with a tremor in her voice. “Jaezotl, how I wish Hinssa was here for this…”

“…What was that?” Ssiina asked after a moment’s hesitation.

“You captured our appearance, didn’t you?”

Tyaniis nodded. “Excellent, Kyrae. I did, yes. Right now, the sigil array is copying itself in my chambers, replicating onto a medium that will allow me to retain it forever—and to create highly-accurate paintings given materials and time.”

I blinked, thinking back to portraits in the palace. “Are the portraits in the palace done that way?”

“Some are, but most are done by hand. Now, I’ve delayed long enough. There is one more item to discuss, then we will go. Who are you to engage with, and who are you to avoid?”

“Engage with ussen from the Gyontael and Lajiir families. Potentially Iitazin as well,” Ssiina answered.

I nodded. “Avoid the Ziilant and Ssyt families, as well as Aunt Zaiia’s immediate family.”

Kyrae took a moment longer. “And I am to play a more defensive role, although I should at least make myself known to the Sunstrike family. There are others as well, of course.”

“Of course,” Sire replied. “That is why you’ve spent all this effort learning etiquette. It is a delicate dance, but I believe Phaeliisthia taught you—perhaps more strongly than she ought to have—that dances may be improvised, altered, and subverted. Do not blindly follow etiquette. Lead.”

“Yes, Sire,” my sisters and I answered almost in unison.

Tyaniis looked like she was about to cry again, before she turned and started swiftly for the door. “Then let us away, lest sentimentality beget tardiness.”