It took us twenty minutes to get him to the kitchen door, Malus yipping fretfully behind us. She had panicked when she saw Zane's limp body and we doubted she would be placated until her master was up and walking later. We leaned him against the side of the house and ordered some of the servants to take Zane to his room.
With that out of the way, Mikayla and I went to our separate bathrooms to wipe the blood, sweat, and dirt off our worn-out bodies. I sat in my tub, resting my head against the rim. I stared up at the golden ceiling, the candles on the counter giving some light. My legs were stretched all the way out, the tips of my toes curled around the rim of the tub. The water was hot, the steam curling my damp strands against the sides of my face and neck.
My thoughts wandered to Will. I didn't love him: the lack of pain in my heart told me so. I was still saddened by how quickly things soured between us, but it was for the best. Had Lucifer or God found out about us, we would surely be killed. Will was immortal; I'd feel awful if his life was cut short because of me.
I wondered if he was even thinking of me. Probably not, I thought morosely, he was probably glad to be rid of me. He no longer had to "babysit" me.
To think you are even sulking over an Angel. Rayi scorned and I could imagine her frowning.
"I'm not sulking." I argued quietly.
She didn't respond, but I could feel her disbelief. I sighed and sank into the water until my nose was millimeters from being submerged.
My body had long since been clean, but the warm water was calming, reminding me of Will's embrace. Subconsciously, I wrapped my arms around me, though they did not give me the comfort his arms did.
Perhaps I did miss him.
There was a knock on my door, to which I garbled, "Enter."
Mikayla entered, in a simple red gown with a towel still in her hair. She rose a thin eyebrow at me as she knelt by the tub.
"You look like a frog." I ignored the gibe and lifted my head from the sweet smelling water.
"What do you want?" I grouched, resting my head against the tub again.
She stood and faced my vanity mirror, pulling the towel out of her hair. Plucking her silver-toothed comb from her waistband she began to brush her long hair out, humming as she did so.
I had always been envious of her hair, specifically its length. It was nearing her hips and was straight and thick. Mine, while thick, was wavier and liked to stick up at all ends. If I could exude the effort to care for it I would grow mine out, but until then I was content to admire Mikayla's.
"We'll be leaving for the King's birthday in a couple hours. I hope you'll be done soaking by then."
I disregarded her statement and asked, "Do you think Father expects one of us to marry Lin?"
She faltered in her brush stroke for a heartbeat before resuming like she hadn't stopped at all, her face carefully blank. "I would imagine so. Why else would he have us go buy new dresses?"
"He is the Adviser...I don't want to marry him."
"Who says you have to? You could just say no." She winced when her comb got snagged in a knot. "And who's to say he'll pick you? You're not exactly 'queen material', you know?"
I shot her a dirty look, which I knew she saw thanks to the mirror. "What's 'queen material?'"
Mikayla untangled her comb and carefully worked the knot out. "Well, elegant, wears shoes. That sort of stuff."
I was grateful she didn't say "beautiful", otherwise I would think of myself as the "Ugly Twin." I looked at my toes thoughtfully.
"Shoes make my feet feel constricted." I mumbled, wiggling my toes a bit.
"I doubt the King would permit you to walk around the palace barefoot. The fact Father allows it is remarkable. It isn't polite or ladylike to not wear shoes." She chastised lightly.
I thought of Will, who always teased me for not wearing shoes. I felt a pang when I thought how he didn't mind carrying me because of the snow. He barely noticed my weight, he had insisted when I voiced my guilt. "Lin will probably choose you; you have pretty hair."
"So do you, if you'd grow it out. You used to have it long." Mikayla turned and looked at me, an unreadable expression on her face.
"That was when Mother was alive." I said.
The atmosphere between us grew tense and silent. The bathwater felt cold then and I unplugged the tub. I stood and got out of the tub, walking over to where I had placed my towel. I wrapped it snugly around me and looked at my sister.
She had a strained look, like she wanted to say something but couldn't quite choke it out. None of us spoke about Mother; it was taboo now.
"Right." Her voice was tight. "Well, I guess you'll end up marrying Zane. Hey, do you want me to help you with your hair?"
The abrupt change of subject and offer to help me get ready didn't surprise me. I didn't want to talk any more about Mother or marriage. I smiled edgily and nodded. "Not much you can do with it, though."
Her face relaxed and she scoffed, "Nonsense; there's plenty you can do with your hair. Put some clothes on and come to my room."
She left my bathroom, closing the door behind her. I halfheartedly dried myself off and roughly dried my hair. I had previously laid out the plain gray gown I was going to change into after my bath on my bed. Walking over to it, I dressed quickly and went to Mikayla's room.
If my room was unassuming, Mikayla's was intricate. The walls were painted dark purple with a gold border wrapping around the entirety of the room. Her curtains were eggshell white and her bed was covered with black silk sheets. Her dresser and mirror were made of mahogany and were painted a deep red color.
She was seated on her four poster bed, staring at me hard. I quailed slightly underneath her scrutiny, disturbed by the intensity of her gaze.
"Is there a reason you're looking at me like that?" I finally asked, my left hand gripping my right arm subconsciously.
She blinked and stood. "I was just thinking of what to do with your hair. It's going to be simple, don't worry."
Grabbing my hands, she dragged me to her dresser. She pressed on my shoulders and I obediently sat in the chair. The candles on the dresser flickered lazily, lighting up the mirror enough so Mikayla could see what she was doing.
I had brought my own comb, knowing she didn't like to share her things, and handed it to her when she stood behind me. With a hum of thanks, she took it from me and began to brush my hair.
"Your hair is so stubborn." She mused, frowning when my hair curled up at the ends.
The last person to brush my hair was Mother. She loved to play with my and Mikayla's hair, preferring us to keep our hair long. She would brush it until it was soft and shiny. Mikayla was surprisingly gentle as she brushed my hair, her left hand following the comb down my hair. It felt nice.
"That's why I don't bother with it."
After Mother died, I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and "butchered" my hip length hair, as Father so kindly put it. I hadn't had long hair since. We all had our ways of coping with her death: I cut the hair she loved so much, Mikayla threw herself into shopping, and Zane got angrier. Father got over it quickly.
"You should take care of it a little more." Mikayla chided, setting my comb down.
She tapped her index finger against her chin thoughtfully as she studied my hair. "Perhaps a hairband would work..."
Mikayla opened one of the drawers and pulled out a white headband with a light purple flower on it. She put it around my neck then slid it up into my hair, pushing my fringe back from my face. I blinked quickly, unused to my sight being completely unblocked.
"There! It's simple but pretty." She smiled, pleased with her work.
I noticed then that she looked noticeably healthier than me. Her skin had a healthy glow to it, while mine seemed sallow. She had no purple bruises under her eyes and mine seemed to stand out a lot. Even her hair had a better shine than mine.
"Thanks, Kay." I said, using my childhood nickname for her.
I stood and grabbed my comb off her dresser while she nodded, smiling playfully. "Sure thing, Melly-bean."
Hers and Mother's nickname for me. I hadn't heard it in over a century. I was beginning to wonder why she had been so friendly lately, but couldn't bring myself to ask. If I did, it would likely put her back in her usual mood. Perhaps something was wrong with Irsya?
I left her room and returned to mine to continue getting ready. When I entered, Zane was laying on my bed, his arms folded behind his head. He wasn't dressed yet to go to the ball. To my chagrin, he had his boots on.
"Who gave you permission to lay on my bed, jerk?" I groused, walking over to him.
He watched me through half-lidded eyes as I grabbed his bulky upper arm and pulled. I thought for a moment he was still paralyzed, but disregarded it when I felt his arm muscles tense up to prevent me from moving him.
"You weren't in, so I thought I'd wait." He sat up, but kept his feet on my bed.
"What do you want? It is to my understanding we will be leaving soon. And get your boots off my bed!"
"Father intends for you or Mikayla to marry the King." He stated, watching my face closely and ignoring my order entirely.
My face was blank. "I already figured that. Why are you telling me?"
"You're with that angel aren't you? What if King Lin chooses you?"
My shoulders slumped. "We decided it would be best if we did not pursue a relationship with each other. So, it doesn't matter."
"Aw, did you get in a lover's tiff?" I despised Zane's mocking tone.
I clenched my fists and growled, "Get out. Leave me to change."
He raised his hands in surrender, his infernal smirk still in place. "Now, now, no need to get tetchy. I hit a nerve, huh?"
I glowered at him and pointed a finger at him, a small bolt of lightning shooting out. It struck him in the chest and he gave a little spasm of pain. While he was distracted, I shoved my forearm into his throat.
"I told you to get out. If you don't, I'll shock you until you no longer have any feeling in your nerves. And if you ever speak to me like that again, I will make you regret it." I whispered, my voice shaking in my anger.
He wanted to fight back but by the time he thought of reacting, I was across the room in front of my closet. I deliberately had my back to him, boldly daring him to attack me from behind. He was entertaining the idea, I knew that much, but in the end he stomped out of my room, slamming the door behind him.
You should have mentioned the Angel of Love. That would have got him going. Rayi said, sounding a little eager.
"No good; I didn't want to fight him. I just wanted him out of my room." I mumbled, pulling my dress out.
When I first bought it, I hadn't looked it over that much. I felt bad for holding Mikayla up, so I grabbed the first dress I laid my hand on. It was short-sleeved with black lace trimming around the sleeves. The bodice was purple, as was the shear, but the skirt itself was black.
I slid the dress up my legs and wriggled until it was comfortably hugging my body. The skirt dragged on the floor and I hoped my shoes would remedy that. The shoes were black and ankle length, the heel at least three inches high. I slipped them on and stared at my reflection in my full length mirror.
I looked acceptable, I decided, and left my room. Mikayla was exiting her room at the same time I was, dressed in a light blue strapless dress. Her skirt was floor-length and when she walked, I could see her silver shoes. Her hair was plaited down her back and she had pearl earrings in place. While her face wasn't heavily made-up, her eyelids were dark blue and her lips shined with light pink lipstick.
She noticed me and smiled. I returned her smile and walked with her down the hall.
"I'm surprised you aren't trying to skip your shoes." She murmured when we got to the staircase.
"Father would have noticed."
Father was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in his finest silk suit. His long black hair was tied back in a ponytail, but two strands on either side escaped the ribbon. Without his hair to hide his face, his scars under each eye looked more severe and his pointed ears more noticeable.
"This is a first; normally Zane is down here before you two." He commented when he saw us.
"Zane was lazing on my bed no more than ten minutes ago. He'll most likely be along soon." I remarked, loosely folding my arms across my chest.
"If you were where you're supposed to be, I wouldn't have wasted time." Zane growled, tromping down the stairs.
He was hastily dressed and Mikayla stepped forward to fix his tie for him. He reluctantly let her, then shooed her away with a wave of his hand the moment he was satisfied with it. Father studied us, Mikayla and me more than Zane, before saying, "I expect you all to be on your best behavior. Lucifer will be there and I will not tolerate any sort of misbehavior."
At the mention of the Devil, color drained from our faces. Mikayla and I exchanged a nervous glance with each other peripherally.
"Yes, Father." The three of us chorused. Satisfied, Father nodded his head and ushered us out of the house and into the waiting carriage.
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