“Our last stop is the historic monarch’s chambers.” Starkon said grandly. Turning around to head right back into the palace.
“Wait! We haven’t seen the portrait hall yet!” Roskva grabbed his arm to stop him. “We have to show Aneira the painting of our father!”
“There’s a painting of father in the portrait hall?” Aneira asked. Feeling a bit weak at the idea of their father staring at them. Even if it was only paint.
“Yes! I bet you’d recognize him, but I couldn’t! Not at all!” Roskva said. “You have to see it!”
“If you would like of course.” Starkon placed his hand on Roskva’s shoulder. Trying to speak gently. “I’m sure that this has all been very exhausting for you.”
“I have to see it.” Aneira said determinedly. Even as their stomach did somersaults.
“Yes!” Roskva cheered. “C’mon!” Roskva ran off down the hall. Jumping up and down at the end of the hall, waiting impatiently for the rest of the crew.
“She’s rather wonderful, isn’t she?” Starkon asked, as they all followed Roskva’s lead.
“She is. And rather taken with you.” Aneira said suspiciously. “What exactly are your intentions with her?”
“I have none.” Starkon said surprised. Mocking hurt. “I have no intentions of any kind. Merely being a good host.”
“I’m sure.” Aneira said dryly. Bellaire walked closely to Aneira. Muscling between them and Starkon earning her a glare.
“I’m being serious! My feelings towards your sister are as harmless as yours.” Starkon pleaded. “She’s like a baby sister I never had. Never had the chance to have. I must say I am quite envious of you. She’s such a bright ray of sunshine.”
“I don’t think I believe you.” Aneira said.
“I see.” Starkon pursed his lips together.
“This way!” Roskva called and vanished behind a pair of doors. Aneira took a breath to steady themself before entering the portrait hall. Hundreds of eyes stared down at them with nothing but cruel judgment.
“He’s right here!” Roskva bounced up and down and pointed up at a smaller but still dignified portrait. Aneira felt a pit in their stomach as they looked up at the cold painted eyes of their father. Looking down at them in disappointment.
“That’s him, right?!” Roskva could hardly contain herself. Jumping up and down and grabbing onto Bellaire in her excitement.
“Yeah. That’s our father.” Aneira said. Trying to contain the tears welling up in their eyes.
“I knew it!” Roskva squealed. “He looks so proud of us.”
“Yeah.” Aneira lied. Roskva stilled and looked down at the ground sheepishly.
“You know, I didn’t really recognize him.” She admitted. “It’s been so long, I forgot what they looked like.” Aneira looked over at their sister. Tears falling from Roskva’s eyes.
“That’s what paintings like this are for.” Aneira said. “So we don’t ever have to forget them.” Roskva smiled from under the hair covering her face.
“You two will have your own before long.” Starkon interrupted the moment by squeezing to Aneira’s side before Bellaire could stop him. He brushed against Aneira and yelped. Both jumping away from each other.
“Y-you’re stone cold.” He said. Rubbing where his skin had touched theirs.
“Yes. Poor circulation.” Aneira said quietly. Their lips pursed so tightly they turned as white as the rest of their face.
“Cold as death itself.” Starkon mused, feeling his arm. Bellaire cleared her throat.
“That royal suite you mentioned?” She asked, sending Aneira a knowing nod. “Should I lead them to it?”
“Yes. Do that.” Starkon said, “I have something to attend to…”
“Something I could assist with?” Aneira asked sternly. Starkon shook his head distractedly. Drifting out of the portrait hall.
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“Aneira!” Roskva snapped as soon as the door behind the former prince closed. Aneira turned to look at their sister. “Why are you being so mean to him?!”
“Roskva, I don’t think he’s being genuine.” Aneira said. “Something in the way he acts is suspicious.”
“He’s only acting suspicious because you make him uncomfortable!” Roskva hissed. Aneira tried to say something but couldn’t think of anything to say.
“I understand.” They said finally. “Lady Callafon, be so kind as to show Roskva that suite.”
“Right, I mean. Of course, your majesty.” Bellaire gave a polite but quick bow and turned to Roskva holding out a hand for her.
“Me? Isn’t that supposed to be for you?” Roskva asked.
“I don’t need them. They are yours.” Aneira said and looked back into their father’s portrait. “I’ll return to my rooms when I’m finished here.”
“Are you sure?” Bellaire asked,
“Yes, I’m sure.” Aneira nodded. “Go on.” Bellaire offered Roskva a smile. Roskva stared at her sibling.
“You’ll send for me when you start working on my party… right?” She asked.
“Mhm.” Aneira nodded absently. Roskva allowed Bellaire to lead her out of the portrait room. Aneira held themself together until the door shut. Once the echoes of the wooden doors died Aneira fell to their knees in a sob. Choking on their sobs as tears fell down onto the marble floor
“I’m sorry, I failed you. I - I tried. I tried.” They sobbed “I miss you. I miss mom. I want you both back.” As they sobbed they felt the eyes on them again. Panic set in and they covered their face.
“I’m okay,” Aneira announced. “I just” They stood up but the room was empty. They looked around finally making eye contact with the face watching them. A ghostly pale face that was nearly see through.
“So.. you and Aneira?” Roskva asked as Bellaire led her to the rooms designated for the King and Queen of the kingdom.
“I am their bodyguard?” Bellaire said, shaking their head at the ridiculous question.
“Yeah, and?” Roskva smiled cheekily.
“And?”
“And you being so worried about them and where they are and being as close to them as you can.” Roskva listed on her fingers.
“All part of the job.” Bellaire insisted, which made Roskva laugh.
“Oh sure it is.” She giggled, “So there’s nothing between you two at all? No unspoken feelings?”
“Annoyance?” Bellaire suggested. “Frustration?”
“Anything else?” Roskva inched closer and noticed the little blush on Bellaire’s cheeks.
“Maybe a little admiration.” She admitted. “But don’t tell them that. They’re full of themself enough as it is.” Roskva laughed and jumped excitedly.
“I knew it! You do have a thing for them!” She cheered in the halls.
“I do not. Here’s the suite.” Bellaire opened the double doors to a massive entryway and sitting area.
“What? This is a whole other house!” Roskva’s jaw dropped. She ran into the space. Spinning with her arms out and even performing a cartwheel. “There’s so much space!”
“Yup. Room enough for just about anything.” Bellaire agreed. Now actively trying to keep Aneira out of her mind. As long as one sibling lived, her job was done. It didn’t HAVE to be Aneira. At least, that’s what she kept trying to tell herself.
“You’ll be safe in here, right?” Bellaire asked, looking around to quickly assess the room’s safety. “There doesn’t seem to be any danger.”
“Anxious to get back to Aneira?” Roskva said, turning with a cheeky grin. Bellaire felt their cheeks getting warm.
“They did seem a bit off, didn’t they?” Bellaire asked. Turning away with her nose in the air. “Left alone with the picture of your father?” Roskva’s cheeky grin faded.
“You think they’re grieving?” She asked. At the door in three fast strides.
“It’s possible they might need someone.” Bellaire said. Stepping out of the doorframe, Roskva charged through the door. Practically running all the way back to the portrait hall, finding it empty. Bellaire immediately jumped to high alert.
“Their room.” She stated. She turned and ran down the hall with Roskva falling far behind. Even at her top speed, Roskva wasn’t fast. Not as fast as the athletic Bellaire.
Bellaire seized the door and threw her shoulder against it. The door slammed open with a boom that echoed in the halls. Aneira threw the full mug in the air at the sudden sound. Aneira’s start froze the coffee inside the mug solid. Making the mug bounce along the ground instead of shattering.
“What’s the rush?” Aneira asked, feeling their heartbeat storming in their ears. They scooped up their mug. Putting it down on the table next to the coffee tray.
“I just.” Bellaire said. Standing up straight again and searching for words. Shifting her shoulders as she thought.
“Aneira?” Roskva breathlessly caught up and fell into Bellaire’s side. Gasping for air from the run.
“Roskva? What is it? What’s wrong?” Aneira asked. Taking alert steps toward the doors. Looking between the two worried faces for a hint.
“Nothing.” Bellaire shook her head and stood beside the doors. Looking up as uninterestedly as she could.
“WE were concerned you needed support while mourning.” Roskva said. Entering into the room with a dirty look at Bellaire.
“I’m not mourning. I wanted coffee.” Aneira said. They looked at the cup and picked up their mug. Looking at the thawing liquid inside miserably.
“Let me join you,” Roskva said. Coming closer to Aneira. They released the mug and let it fall to the ground. This time the mug shattered.
“Oops!” Aneira stumbled back. “Shoot, I guess I’ll have to clean that up. Maybe some other time?”
“Right.” Roskva said, slowly backing away from the spill. “I could?”
“Later Roskva.” Aneira said. The force sucked the air out of the room. Roskva drifted out of the room, Aneira quickly closing the distance and closing the door right behind her.