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“By Batian. He wanted you there at their arrival so they could see you.”
I tried so hard to hide how much the words cut through me, but a wince escaped, my face heating as I tried to hold back the knot in my throat. To stop my eyes from burning.
“He wanted everyone to know you weren’t dead… yet.” It didn’t matter if I refused to look at her, I could still hear the malice in her voice, the depth of it increasing with each step up this infernal staircase.
“I am not dying, mother,” I spat the word, still fighting the burn in my cheeks. The way she said it; that ‘yet’ cut through me, she probably wanted me dead. “You know I am not dying.”
“A Requisite cannot live long without its Catalyst,” she almost sounded giddy. “Bonded or not.”
Her voice hissed in my ear, the iciness of her tone cutting through the angry heat that had overtaken me. I missed the next step, nearly falling on my face as she chuckled darkly and moved to face me, cutting off any forward movement toward the large double doors everyone was vanishing through.
“Where did you hear that?” I asked as I stood to face her.
“Everyone thinks it's after the bond, but I’ve seen the slow death without it. I’ve seen what’s coming for you.” Those eyes flashed dangerously as she stood there; pressing, goading. Playing.
I had never heard that, with how much she liked to prod me you would think she would have mentioned it before.
Unless she was playing with me this time, too. I exhaled and tried to take another step up the stairs, even as she blocked my progression.
“I guess we will see.” If it sounded like a challenge, it was. “I am fairly certain he wanted me there because I am his sister and because it is his wedding.”
She gave a small sound, the high-pitched squawk a slice of a laugh. “That was not his wedding, girl. That moment, there, was to confirm your existence. To show that you are alive, not that anyone cares.”
I wanted to tell her that Batian cared, that Aeinya cared, that everyone but her cared. But that would only give her what she wants, playing into all of it.
“Why do you hate me so much?” I spat the words before I could stop myself, my skirts falling as I turned to face her, everyone filtering around us as they made their way up the last few stairs and into the banquet hall.
“You? I don’t hate you!” She made another sound that could have been a laugh and I winced. “I hate what you have done to our legacy. I hate what you have done to everything I have built. I hate the stain you have left for your brother to clean up. I hate what you brought into this world and all the trouble you are causing for me.”
I narrowed my eyes, “What have I brought into this world, exactly?”
She pursed her lips, those blue eyes flashing. Her skin, so smooth and pale, was perfectly flush, her hair braided in perfection around her head and through the crown she wore, the silver crown that matched Father's.
She looked like ice; pale and perfect and inhuman. She sneered with all that perfection, my tangles of hair catching in the breeze and pulling over my freckled face which I was sure was still smudged with dirt. But I didn’t look away.
“A stain, girl. You have brought a stain that I am growing tired of.” She fixed me with a piercing stare before continuing up the steps, following the last of the courtiers and their giggling into the banquet hall.
I waited only a moment before following her at a near run, only to face her again as she stood in the door frame, the doors already closing behind her.
“They’ve seen you. That’s all we need. You can go back to your room now.”
The doors slammed in my face as she smiled, the sound merriment and the smell of food that wasn’t porridge made with bacon fat fading into nothing.
I kept my head high as I stared at the door. Everything inside of me felt like it was cracking, but I wouldn't let it show, I wouldn’t let it break me. Even though my eyes burned, even though my throat wouldn’t let any air past. I said nothing, aware of the Boy who was right beside me, the Boy who had heard everything, who had always been there.
Who always would be there.
“Do you think it’s true?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I couldn't get any sound past the lump that had formed there.
He shook his head fervently. ‘No.’
I nodded once, trusting him over my mother even though I was sure he knew significantly less.
“Let’s go,” I whispered to him, picking up my skirts again as I turned, and slammed myself right into a wall of a person that presented itself as a wide, muscled chest that sent me stumbling back and right into my poof of skirts.
Unable to keep my balance, I fell, landing on my backside. Thank the Goddess for all the ridiculous amounts of fabric or I might have cracked something.
“Oh! By the Gods! I am so sorry!” A tanned hand stretched out to me as I looked up at an angel sent from the Ether.
