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The princess was content to settle next to Lady Evangelina in the sand, but she was unaware that she had raised Lady Dorothea's heckles so about Lady Melina. This entire situation was frustrating, if only because these were ladies, and few of them were acting with either poise or grace considering their status. A party did not excuse them, truly. She was sure that Queen Theodora felt the same, deep down. There should be some scolding of Lady Imma once the girl was not higher than the skies and ranting and sobbing about a stray sea lion.
The squeeze of her hand had Xene nodding a quiet affirmation of her offer. It seemed to please Evangelina, but the princess wouldn't push any further talk of it for now. They were still in company, and more ladies were gravitating toward them in a show of support for the young Lady who was soon to be married. This was her party, her day, and they needed to show her that this situation could still be fun.
When Lady Dorothea slid down to sit on Evangelina's other side, the princess leaned a little forward to get a good look at the pretty young woman. Beautiful, but exotically so and much different than the classically gorgeous girls that inhabited much of court. Dorothea was a unique beauty who would one day enrapture the correct man to her side and make a good match. At least that was what Xene assumed would happen. She was intelligent and stubborn and knew the correct man would one day come along.
The story that the young woman spoke of brought a smile to even Xene's lips, and she found herself also laughing a little, pleased that Evangelina was quickly starting to relax. The look that the princess gave Lady Dorothea was one of a thankful nature, her gaze flickering to Evangelina in a single show of what she was thankful for in that moment. She even mouthed the words 'thank you' to the Dimitrou lady, giving her an approving nod.
"If we're telling embarrassing stories..." the princess mused, shaking her head and smiling a little shyly. "At my mother's last party before the King and my brother died, Stephanos, the King, and I lured Lord Nikos down to the gardens at the Mikaelidas manor and pushed him into the fountain," the princess mused, "Not my finest moment, and I felt guilty at first, but it was hilariously funny. Stephanos wanted to knock him down a peg. And yet, unfortunately, he still attends court," the princess said airily. "He looked like a soaked pup and made Achilleas give him new clothes."
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The princess was content to settle next to Lady Evangelina in the sand, but she was unaware that she had raised Lady Dorothea's heckles so about Lady Melina. This entire situation was frustrating, if only because these were ladies, and few of them were acting with either poise or grace considering their status. A party did not excuse them, truly. She was sure that Queen Theodora felt the same, deep down. There should be some scolding of Lady Imma once the girl was not higher than the skies and ranting and sobbing about a stray sea lion.
The squeeze of her hand had Xene nodding a quiet affirmation of her offer. It seemed to please Evangelina, but the princess wouldn't push any further talk of it for now. They were still in company, and more ladies were gravitating toward them in a show of support for the young Lady who was soon to be married. This was her party, her day, and they needed to show her that this situation could still be fun.
When Lady Dorothea slid down to sit on Evangelina's other side, the princess leaned a little forward to get a good look at the pretty young woman. Beautiful, but exotically so and much different than the classically gorgeous girls that inhabited much of court. Dorothea was a unique beauty who would one day enrapture the correct man to her side and make a good match. At least that was what Xene assumed would happen. She was intelligent and stubborn and knew the correct man would one day come along.
The story that the young woman spoke of brought a smile to even Xene's lips, and she found herself also laughing a little, pleased that Evangelina was quickly starting to relax. The look that the princess gave Lady Dorothea was one of a thankful nature, her gaze flickering to Evangelina in a single show of what she was thankful for in that moment. She even mouthed the words 'thank you' to the Dimitrou lady, giving her an approving nod.
"If we're telling embarrassing stories..." the princess mused, shaking her head and smiling a little shyly. "At my mother's last party before the King and my brother died, Stephanos, the King, and I lured Lord Nikos down to the gardens at the Mikaelidas manor and pushed him into the fountain," the princess mused, "Not my finest moment, and I felt guilty at first, but it was hilariously funny. Stephanos wanted to knock him down a peg. And yet, unfortunately, he still attends court," the princess said airily. "He looked like a soaked pup and made Achilleas give him new clothes."
The princess was content to settle next to Lady Evangelina in the sand, but she was unaware that she had raised Lady Dorothea's heckles so about Lady Melina. This entire situation was frustrating, if only because these were ladies, and few of them were acting with either poise or grace considering their status. A party did not excuse them, truly. She was sure that Queen Theodora felt the same, deep down. There should be some scolding of Lady Imma once the girl was not higher than the skies and ranting and sobbing about a stray sea lion.
The squeeze of her hand had Xene nodding a quiet affirmation of her offer. It seemed to please Evangelina, but the princess wouldn't push any further talk of it for now. They were still in company, and more ladies were gravitating toward them in a show of support for the young Lady who was soon to be married. This was her party, her day, and they needed to show her that this situation could still be fun.
When Lady Dorothea slid down to sit on Evangelina's other side, the princess leaned a little forward to get a good look at the pretty young woman. Beautiful, but exotically so and much different than the classically gorgeous girls that inhabited much of court. Dorothea was a unique beauty who would one day enrapture the correct man to her side and make a good match. At least that was what Xene assumed would happen. She was intelligent and stubborn and knew the correct man would one day come along.
The story that the young woman spoke of brought a smile to even Xene's lips, and she found herself also laughing a little, pleased that Evangelina was quickly starting to relax. The look that the princess gave Lady Dorothea was one of a thankful nature, her gaze flickering to Evangelina in a single show of what she was thankful for in that moment. She even mouthed the words 'thank you' to the Dimitrou lady, giving her an approving nod.
"If we're telling embarrassing stories..." the princess mused, shaking her head and smiling a little shyly. "At my mother's last party before the King and my brother died, Stephanos, the King, and I lured Lord Nikos down to the gardens at the Mikaelidas manor and pushed him into the fountain," the princess mused, "Not my finest moment, and I felt guilty at first, but it was hilariously funny. Stephanos wanted to knock him down a peg. And yet, unfortunately, he still attends court," the princess said airily. "He looked like a soaked pup and made Achilleas give him new clothes."
Truly, it seemed a lovely party, this little soiree for Lady Evangelina on the beach. A lovely, nearly unguarded party, so many of the men who remained far up the beach out of the view of the ladies in attendance. Perfect. The Drowned One loved when his job was made even easier.
As he observed from his hidey-hole in the rocky crag a few yards away, he thought the gods must have been in his favor. The party was a disaster on its own even without his interference, chaos erupting from nearly every point. So why not add a little more?
The women’s attention otherwise diverted by the debacle with the queen’s sister and the sea lion, the Drowned One took his opportunity to silently pilfer one of the lit torches, obscuring its light with a fold of his dark cloak. Carefully, slowly, he made his way toward the nearest tent still standing, shielding the torch with his body. Once he was close enough, he allowed the flame to lick the fabric, dropping the wood brand and backing away. Smile hidden by the wraps on his face, the Creeder dissolved back into the dark, eager to see how the pristine ladies of Taengea would react…
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Truly, it seemed a lovely party, this little soiree for Lady Evangelina on the beach. A lovely, nearly unguarded party, so many of the men who remained far up the beach out of the view of the ladies in attendance. Perfect. The Drowned One loved when his job was made even easier.
As he observed from his hidey-hole in the rocky crag a few yards away, he thought the gods must have been in his favor. The party was a disaster on its own even without his interference, chaos erupting from nearly every point. So why not add a little more?
The women’s attention otherwise diverted by the debacle with the queen’s sister and the sea lion, the Drowned One took his opportunity to silently pilfer one of the lit torches, obscuring its light with a fold of his dark cloak. Carefully, slowly, he made his way toward the nearest tent still standing, shielding the torch with his body. Once he was close enough, he allowed the flame to lick the fabric, dropping the wood brand and backing away. Smile hidden by the wraps on his face, the Creeder dissolved back into the dark, eager to see how the pristine ladies of Taengea would react…
Truly, it seemed a lovely party, this little soiree for Lady Evangelina on the beach. A lovely, nearly unguarded party, so many of the men who remained far up the beach out of the view of the ladies in attendance. Perfect. The Drowned One loved when his job was made even easier.
As he observed from his hidey-hole in the rocky crag a few yards away, he thought the gods must have been in his favor. The party was a disaster on its own even without his interference, chaos erupting from nearly every point. So why not add a little more?
The women’s attention otherwise diverted by the debacle with the queen’s sister and the sea lion, the Drowned One took his opportunity to silently pilfer one of the lit torches, obscuring its light with a fold of his dark cloak. Carefully, slowly, he made his way toward the nearest tent still standing, shielding the torch with his body. Once he was close enough, he allowed the flame to lick the fabric, dropping the wood brand and backing away. Smile hidden by the wraps on his face, the Creeder dissolved back into the dark, eager to see how the pristine ladies of Taengea would react…
Time passed in a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. One second the stars were singing her name through the soft light of their distant fire and the next the sand imparted words to her through the nuances of its ever changing texture. Dafni was a lamb lost to the slaughter of her higher brain functions. Her feet nestled in the sand one moment and then cold surf the next. Her eyes open and full of wondrous visions of color and sound (because for some reason sound was not auditory but visual at the moment… or had it always been this way?). And the next blackness overtook her, and with a desperation unknown to the young Leventi except in the direst of cases (such as getting a stain out of her favored chitons or scratches polished from her most precious stones) she clawed at the air around her until the silliest thought would hit.
Are my eyes closed?
It would be at that time that she would pry her heavy lids open and spin about in a gangly uncoordinated fashion, a disjointed laugher falling from her once prettily painted lips. For they were painted in a pleasing way no longer, even if some of the paint did still cling to the sensitive skin. The color was now smushed and smeared away from its former glory until Dafni resembled a circus performer more than any Lady known to high society. Oh the shame she would feel come morn! Or whenever she fell from her high, whichever came first. That is, if she even remembered the eve at all!
She continued in this fashion for what seemed like years or maybe mere minutes? The flow of time losing its linearity and instead spreading out before her like the loops, crosses, and broken threads of her misshapen cross stitching adventures.
At one point a Sea Lion materialized out of the heavens, appearing to the young Leventi in flashes of delusion to instead be none other than her father on the body of a bull. Now this really set her off. Giggles and chortles and chuckles falling from her lips in a collision of sounds one would more equate with the possession of a dog by an evil entity than that of a human woman. Not that Dafni heard anything but pretty colors and tinkling bells, for she was nothing if not amusing and vocally pleasing in her own head.
Soon, or perhaps many seasons, after the Fotios bull sea lion played a game of cards with all the other ladies and mermaids at the party (and must she say, what a poker face her father/monster did have!) Another sound caught her eye. Like lighting it crackled in her vision and she heard all of its tones of red and yellow and orange with the pretties tails of blue. A fire, magnificent and frigid, the sound of its glow calling to her innermost eardrum.
“So pretty…” Dafni garbled on another round of giggles and she stretched her hand out to play with the pretty flames. The fire still several feet away, even if in her mind she stood within it’s embrace; her feet bringing her ever closer now that her brain was occupied elsewhere and no longer holding such a dictatorship over their actions. They were free. She was free. And the fire, it was oh so pretty.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Time passed in a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. One second the stars were singing her name through the soft light of their distant fire and the next the sand imparted words to her through the nuances of its ever changing texture. Dafni was a lamb lost to the slaughter of her higher brain functions. Her feet nestled in the sand one moment and then cold surf the next. Her eyes open and full of wondrous visions of color and sound (because for some reason sound was not auditory but visual at the moment… or had it always been this way?). And the next blackness overtook her, and with a desperation unknown to the young Leventi except in the direst of cases (such as getting a stain out of her favored chitons or scratches polished from her most precious stones) she clawed at the air around her until the silliest thought would hit.
Are my eyes closed?
It would be at that time that she would pry her heavy lids open and spin about in a gangly uncoordinated fashion, a disjointed laugher falling from her once prettily painted lips. For they were painted in a pleasing way no longer, even if some of the paint did still cling to the sensitive skin. The color was now smushed and smeared away from its former glory until Dafni resembled a circus performer more than any Lady known to high society. Oh the shame she would feel come morn! Or whenever she fell from her high, whichever came first. That is, if she even remembered the eve at all!
She continued in this fashion for what seemed like years or maybe mere minutes? The flow of time losing its linearity and instead spreading out before her like the loops, crosses, and broken threads of her misshapen cross stitching adventures.
At one point a Sea Lion materialized out of the heavens, appearing to the young Leventi in flashes of delusion to instead be none other than her father on the body of a bull. Now this really set her off. Giggles and chortles and chuckles falling from her lips in a collision of sounds one would more equate with the possession of a dog by an evil entity than that of a human woman. Not that Dafni heard anything but pretty colors and tinkling bells, for she was nothing if not amusing and vocally pleasing in her own head.
Soon, or perhaps many seasons, after the Fotios bull sea lion played a game of cards with all the other ladies and mermaids at the party (and must she say, what a poker face her father/monster did have!) Another sound caught her eye. Like lighting it crackled in her vision and she heard all of its tones of red and yellow and orange with the pretties tails of blue. A fire, magnificent and frigid, the sound of its glow calling to her innermost eardrum.
“So pretty…” Dafni garbled on another round of giggles and she stretched her hand out to play with the pretty flames. The fire still several feet away, even if in her mind she stood within it’s embrace; her feet bringing her ever closer now that her brain was occupied elsewhere and no longer holding such a dictatorship over their actions. They were free. She was free. And the fire, it was oh so pretty.
Time passed in a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. One second the stars were singing her name through the soft light of their distant fire and the next the sand imparted words to her through the nuances of its ever changing texture. Dafni was a lamb lost to the slaughter of her higher brain functions. Her feet nestled in the sand one moment and then cold surf the next. Her eyes open and full of wondrous visions of color and sound (because for some reason sound was not auditory but visual at the moment… or had it always been this way?). And the next blackness overtook her, and with a desperation unknown to the young Leventi except in the direst of cases (such as getting a stain out of her favored chitons or scratches polished from her most precious stones) she clawed at the air around her until the silliest thought would hit.
Are my eyes closed?
It would be at that time that she would pry her heavy lids open and spin about in a gangly uncoordinated fashion, a disjointed laugher falling from her once prettily painted lips. For they were painted in a pleasing way no longer, even if some of the paint did still cling to the sensitive skin. The color was now smushed and smeared away from its former glory until Dafni resembled a circus performer more than any Lady known to high society. Oh the shame she would feel come morn! Or whenever she fell from her high, whichever came first. That is, if she even remembered the eve at all!
She continued in this fashion for what seemed like years or maybe mere minutes? The flow of time losing its linearity and instead spreading out before her like the loops, crosses, and broken threads of her misshapen cross stitching adventures.
At one point a Sea Lion materialized out of the heavens, appearing to the young Leventi in flashes of delusion to instead be none other than her father on the body of a bull. Now this really set her off. Giggles and chortles and chuckles falling from her lips in a collision of sounds one would more equate with the possession of a dog by an evil entity than that of a human woman. Not that Dafni heard anything but pretty colors and tinkling bells, for she was nothing if not amusing and vocally pleasing in her own head.
Soon, or perhaps many seasons, after the Fotios bull sea lion played a game of cards with all the other ladies and mermaids at the party (and must she say, what a poker face her father/monster did have!) Another sound caught her eye. Like lighting it crackled in her vision and she heard all of its tones of red and yellow and orange with the pretties tails of blue. A fire, magnificent and frigid, the sound of its glow calling to her innermost eardrum.
“So pretty…” Dafni garbled on another round of giggles and she stretched her hand out to play with the pretty flames. The fire still several feet away, even if in her mind she stood within it’s embrace; her feet bringing her ever closer now that her brain was occupied elsewhere and no longer holding such a dictatorship over their actions. They were free. She was free. And the fire, it was oh so pretty.
Be. Quiet, said Xene.
Bitch, thought Melina.
Melina made no move to defend herself, though her friend did raise some heckles. It didn’t matter what the Princess thought anyway. What mattered was Evie. This was her day. If she was upset well… everyone should be upset! If she was happy, everyone should be happy. This was a day to celebrate her cousin. The last few moments of a Leventi before she joins the ranks of the Dimitrou. And as much as Melina hated partying, they would party like a Leventi should!
Luckily Melina had to say absolutely nothing (which was probably to the relief of everyone around her, particularly the Princess). Evangelina started giggling and the night was saved. Things could get back to normal, Dafni and Imma could be forced to sober up, and things would be as they should be.
Or so Melina thought.
Turning back to the party she saw a tall plume of smoke, followed by flames as it quickly gnawed at one of the tents. And who else does she see there but her sister, dancing and playing with the fire like it was some sort of toy.
Melina’s blood ran cold. Dafni, for as much as they might fight, was her baby sister. Just the thought of her hurt brought pain within Melina herself. All thoughts of Evie was forgotten. The only thing that concerned Melina now was Dafni, whose hand got ever closer to the dangerous, hungry fire.
She took off running as fast as she could- faster than ever before. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she bolted towards her sister, kicking up sand in her wake.As she got closer, the smoke got thicker. She could feel the heat on either side of her as it started to spread from one tent to the patches of grass and the other tent. Melina coughed and squinted, before she found the figure of her sister. She pulled Dafni close to her with a large yank! “Are you mad?! Melina shrieked at Dafni, eyes blurring with worried tears.
She dragged her sister safely away just as the tent collapsed in on itself. Frantically Melina looked over her, checking her skin for any burns. “You could have been hurt! You could have scarred yourself! You could have… you could have…!” Melina was a mixture of fury and relief. Only when she was certain that Dafni wasn’t harmed did she force her sister into a hug, holding her tight. “Don’t you scare me like that, Dafni! Do you understand me?!”
The question would be how did that fire start? Was it Dafni who did it? She was high out of her mind, and no one had eyes on her. But if she was dancing with fire, could she even be coherent enough to grab a torch and bring it to something that would catch? Whatever the answer, Melina didn’t care. As long as Dafni was safe that was all that really mattered.
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Be. Quiet, said Xene.
Bitch, thought Melina.
Melina made no move to defend herself, though her friend did raise some heckles. It didn’t matter what the Princess thought anyway. What mattered was Evie. This was her day. If she was upset well… everyone should be upset! If she was happy, everyone should be happy. This was a day to celebrate her cousin. The last few moments of a Leventi before she joins the ranks of the Dimitrou. And as much as Melina hated partying, they would party like a Leventi should!
Luckily Melina had to say absolutely nothing (which was probably to the relief of everyone around her, particularly the Princess). Evangelina started giggling and the night was saved. Things could get back to normal, Dafni and Imma could be forced to sober up, and things would be as they should be.
Or so Melina thought.
Turning back to the party she saw a tall plume of smoke, followed by flames as it quickly gnawed at one of the tents. And who else does she see there but her sister, dancing and playing with the fire like it was some sort of toy.
Melina’s blood ran cold. Dafni, for as much as they might fight, was her baby sister. Just the thought of her hurt brought pain within Melina herself. All thoughts of Evie was forgotten. The only thing that concerned Melina now was Dafni, whose hand got ever closer to the dangerous, hungry fire.
She took off running as fast as she could- faster than ever before. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she bolted towards her sister, kicking up sand in her wake.As she got closer, the smoke got thicker. She could feel the heat on either side of her as it started to spread from one tent to the patches of grass and the other tent. Melina coughed and squinted, before she found the figure of her sister. She pulled Dafni close to her with a large yank! “Are you mad?! Melina shrieked at Dafni, eyes blurring with worried tears.
She dragged her sister safely away just as the tent collapsed in on itself. Frantically Melina looked over her, checking her skin for any burns. “You could have been hurt! You could have scarred yourself! You could have… you could have…!” Melina was a mixture of fury and relief. Only when she was certain that Dafni wasn’t harmed did she force her sister into a hug, holding her tight. “Don’t you scare me like that, Dafni! Do you understand me?!”
The question would be how did that fire start? Was it Dafni who did it? She was high out of her mind, and no one had eyes on her. But if she was dancing with fire, could she even be coherent enough to grab a torch and bring it to something that would catch? Whatever the answer, Melina didn’t care. As long as Dafni was safe that was all that really mattered.
Be. Quiet, said Xene.
Bitch, thought Melina.
Melina made no move to defend herself, though her friend did raise some heckles. It didn’t matter what the Princess thought anyway. What mattered was Evie. This was her day. If she was upset well… everyone should be upset! If she was happy, everyone should be happy. This was a day to celebrate her cousin. The last few moments of a Leventi before she joins the ranks of the Dimitrou. And as much as Melina hated partying, they would party like a Leventi should!
Luckily Melina had to say absolutely nothing (which was probably to the relief of everyone around her, particularly the Princess). Evangelina started giggling and the night was saved. Things could get back to normal, Dafni and Imma could be forced to sober up, and things would be as they should be.
Or so Melina thought.
Turning back to the party she saw a tall plume of smoke, followed by flames as it quickly gnawed at one of the tents. And who else does she see there but her sister, dancing and playing with the fire like it was some sort of toy.
Melina’s blood ran cold. Dafni, for as much as they might fight, was her baby sister. Just the thought of her hurt brought pain within Melina herself. All thoughts of Evie was forgotten. The only thing that concerned Melina now was Dafni, whose hand got ever closer to the dangerous, hungry fire.
She took off running as fast as she could- faster than ever before. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she bolted towards her sister, kicking up sand in her wake.As she got closer, the smoke got thicker. She could feel the heat on either side of her as it started to spread from one tent to the patches of grass and the other tent. Melina coughed and squinted, before she found the figure of her sister. She pulled Dafni close to her with a large yank! “Are you mad?! Melina shrieked at Dafni, eyes blurring with worried tears.
She dragged her sister safely away just as the tent collapsed in on itself. Frantically Melina looked over her, checking her skin for any burns. “You could have been hurt! You could have scarred yourself! You could have… you could have…!” Melina was a mixture of fury and relief. Only when she was certain that Dafni wasn’t harmed did she force her sister into a hug, holding her tight. “Don’t you scare me like that, Dafni! Do you understand me?!”
The question would be how did that fire start? Was it Dafni who did it? She was high out of her mind, and no one had eyes on her. But if she was dancing with fire, could she even be coherent enough to grab a torch and bring it to something that would catch? Whatever the answer, Melina didn’t care. As long as Dafni was safe that was all that really mattered.
This was all she’d really wanted, a night on the beach surrounded by her friends both new and old. The comradery of women who faced the same challenges she did. A night with drinks and sand and embarrassing stories. There was some relief in that everyone seemed to have their own story.
Tilting her head, she returned her shy smile that Princess Xene offered before she started with her own story. It was a story with an unpredicted twist involving perhaps the one person who was making her question her decisions. Lord Nikos. Dipping her head as a small laugh escaped and she bobbed her head in amusement. It was hard to picture Princess Xene, the picture of courtly grace indulging in a bit of mischief and shoving the Condos into a water fountain. Well, it might have been hard to picture except she’d mentioned Stephanos and Achilleas being at the root of that little prank and she’d seen them at that sort of behavior before.
“Oh, I bet he came up sputtering at that.” She laughed and her eyes slanted sideways as she smirked, “Did Achilleas have to go through his childhood trunks to find something that would fit Nikos?” Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes imagining it but the scent of smoke tinged with something else had her opening them again and scanning her party only to freeze.
Melina had seen it too and was up and running. Evangelina’s hands dug into the sand as she looked from the flames licking up the walls of one of the tents causing smoke to pummel upwards and then there was Dafni dancing about playing in the flames, hypnotized by the orange and gold and red. Her mouth fell open and she glanced at Xene and Dorothea. Was this really happening?
It seemed like she was moving in slow motion but in reality she was up and right behind Melina in an instant, her feet sending sprays of sand behind her as she ran down the dune and towards the fire. By passing Melina who was dragging Dafni safely away from the flames and trying to shake some sense into her. Good luck there, Mel. Her hands reached the parts of the tent that were soon to catch on fire, the flames kissed her hands and she jerked them away.
“Damn it!” She yelped, examining her hand and finding only a tiny red line before she was reaching up and with more quickness jerking the tent down with as much force as she could muster. The sand would put out the flames, but how had it started. Had Dafni started it? She glanced over her shoulder at Melina who had Dafni wrapped up in her arms. It was possible, but…
Her heart was racing and she cradled her hand to her chest as she watched the remnants of the tent burning in the sand. Her eyes shifted over the beach, “Is she okay, Mel?” Walking over to Melina and Dafni, “Who did this, Dafni?” Not that she was certain that she would trust whatever came out of her cousin’s mouth but if Dafni had seen anything, Evangelina wanted to know who’d dared ruin her party. Glancing around to the faces of her friends and family, “Did anyone else see anything? How’d this happen?”
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This was all she’d really wanted, a night on the beach surrounded by her friends both new and old. The comradery of women who faced the same challenges she did. A night with drinks and sand and embarrassing stories. There was some relief in that everyone seemed to have their own story.
Tilting her head, she returned her shy smile that Princess Xene offered before she started with her own story. It was a story with an unpredicted twist involving perhaps the one person who was making her question her decisions. Lord Nikos. Dipping her head as a small laugh escaped and she bobbed her head in amusement. It was hard to picture Princess Xene, the picture of courtly grace indulging in a bit of mischief and shoving the Condos into a water fountain. Well, it might have been hard to picture except she’d mentioned Stephanos and Achilleas being at the root of that little prank and she’d seen them at that sort of behavior before.
“Oh, I bet he came up sputtering at that.” She laughed and her eyes slanted sideways as she smirked, “Did Achilleas have to go through his childhood trunks to find something that would fit Nikos?” Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes imagining it but the scent of smoke tinged with something else had her opening them again and scanning her party only to freeze.
Melina had seen it too and was up and running. Evangelina’s hands dug into the sand as she looked from the flames licking up the walls of one of the tents causing smoke to pummel upwards and then there was Dafni dancing about playing in the flames, hypnotized by the orange and gold and red. Her mouth fell open and she glanced at Xene and Dorothea. Was this really happening?
It seemed like she was moving in slow motion but in reality she was up and right behind Melina in an instant, her feet sending sprays of sand behind her as she ran down the dune and towards the fire. By passing Melina who was dragging Dafni safely away from the flames and trying to shake some sense into her. Good luck there, Mel. Her hands reached the parts of the tent that were soon to catch on fire, the flames kissed her hands and she jerked them away.
“Damn it!” She yelped, examining her hand and finding only a tiny red line before she was reaching up and with more quickness jerking the tent down with as much force as she could muster. The sand would put out the flames, but how had it started. Had Dafni started it? She glanced over her shoulder at Melina who had Dafni wrapped up in her arms. It was possible, but…
Her heart was racing and she cradled her hand to her chest as she watched the remnants of the tent burning in the sand. Her eyes shifted over the beach, “Is she okay, Mel?” Walking over to Melina and Dafni, “Who did this, Dafni?” Not that she was certain that she would trust whatever came out of her cousin’s mouth but if Dafni had seen anything, Evangelina wanted to know who’d dared ruin her party. Glancing around to the faces of her friends and family, “Did anyone else see anything? How’d this happen?”
This was all she’d really wanted, a night on the beach surrounded by her friends both new and old. The comradery of women who faced the same challenges she did. A night with drinks and sand and embarrassing stories. There was some relief in that everyone seemed to have their own story.
Tilting her head, she returned her shy smile that Princess Xene offered before she started with her own story. It was a story with an unpredicted twist involving perhaps the one person who was making her question her decisions. Lord Nikos. Dipping her head as a small laugh escaped and she bobbed her head in amusement. It was hard to picture Princess Xene, the picture of courtly grace indulging in a bit of mischief and shoving the Condos into a water fountain. Well, it might have been hard to picture except she’d mentioned Stephanos and Achilleas being at the root of that little prank and she’d seen them at that sort of behavior before.
“Oh, I bet he came up sputtering at that.” She laughed and her eyes slanted sideways as she smirked, “Did Achilleas have to go through his childhood trunks to find something that would fit Nikos?” Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes imagining it but the scent of smoke tinged with something else had her opening them again and scanning her party only to freeze.
Melina had seen it too and was up and running. Evangelina’s hands dug into the sand as she looked from the flames licking up the walls of one of the tents causing smoke to pummel upwards and then there was Dafni dancing about playing in the flames, hypnotized by the orange and gold and red. Her mouth fell open and she glanced at Xene and Dorothea. Was this really happening?
It seemed like she was moving in slow motion but in reality she was up and right behind Melina in an instant, her feet sending sprays of sand behind her as she ran down the dune and towards the fire. By passing Melina who was dragging Dafni safely away from the flames and trying to shake some sense into her. Good luck there, Mel. Her hands reached the parts of the tent that were soon to catch on fire, the flames kissed her hands and she jerked them away.
“Damn it!” She yelped, examining her hand and finding only a tiny red line before she was reaching up and with more quickness jerking the tent down with as much force as she could muster. The sand would put out the flames, but how had it started. Had Dafni started it? She glanced over her shoulder at Melina who had Dafni wrapped up in her arms. It was possible, but…
Her heart was racing and she cradled her hand to her chest as she watched the remnants of the tent burning in the sand. Her eyes shifted over the beach, “Is she okay, Mel?” Walking over to Melina and Dafni, “Who did this, Dafni?” Not that she was certain that she would trust whatever came out of her cousin’s mouth but if Dafni had seen anything, Evangelina wanted to know who’d dared ruin her party. Glancing around to the faces of her friends and family, “Did anyone else see anything? How’d this happen?”
Imma smiled as Theo wiped the tears from her eyes. Her chiton felt so soft, like a cloud. Were clouds soft? Of course they were. And fluffy. She felt as if she could fly up to them and sit on one. Wouldn’t that be lovely, to glide upon a cloud? In fact, if she didn’t keep holding onto her sister’s arm, she felt as if she might float away. Maybe eating would make her heavier so she could stand without drifting into the sky. Although the notion of flying was intriguing, the young Leventi was afraid that she would never be able to come down again.
She followed Theo back toward the ruined tents. After the sea lion incident, she was surprised that her sister wanted anything more to do with her. The Queen of Taengea and had a reputation to uphold, and yet she was taking care of the sister who had embarrassed her and everyone else at the party. Those servants were going to spread this around, but Theo cared more for Imma than what people said of her. Of course her sisters loved her, even when she did something stupid like thinking a sea lion was Poseidon and wanted to marry her.
The sky was still beckoning for her to soar toward the sun. Theo stopped before a kline a fair distance from the wreckage and told that she was going to fill a plate for her. The finger she held up in warning seemed grow larger and larger, but when she blinked, it looked like a normal finger again. Imma understood that her sister expected her to stay where she was. When she let go, she felt like she was about to float away, but she forced herself to sit upon the kline. The world started spinning around her again and she closed her eyes, only to see brightly colored butterflies dancing behind them. How did they get there?
Theo returned with a plate for each of them. She was the best sister ever. Her husband was fighting a war somewhere far away and yet she still had time for Imma’s silliness. As she ate, the youngest Leventi girl realized how lucky she was to have such a caring sister and she promised herself that she would never resent her or her other sisters again. Instead of competition, she would think of them as her role models. She wanted to be just like Theo … confident and compassionate and willing to drop everything to help her family. Yes, Imma still envied her beauty, but beauty was only skin deep. Theo was beautiful on the inside too.
The delicious food brought her back down to earth. The world was still sparkly, but she no longer felt as if she was going to float away. Maybe all she had needed was something in her stomach to counteract the drugs and drink in her system. Imma nodded when Theo asked if she felt better. Her sister patted her knee and the young girl reached over and squeezed her hand. Her own was a bit greasy. “I hope the next wedding will not be mine,” she replied. “Selene and Nana will marry before I do.”
A movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention and she looked back at the tents. She thought she saw a shadowy figure, like a ghost, creeping toward the ones that were still standing, but when she blinked, it was gone. It was probably another delusion and she put it out of her mind. “When I do marry, I certainly hope my groom will be handsome.” An image of Nikos of Condos popped into her mind and she blushed. Why was she thinking of him? He had certainly made an impression on her, but she doubted he would want to …
Was that smoke wafting through the air? Had the cooks burnt the food? No, it was coming from the tents. Imma looked back and grabbed her sister's arm. Her heart pounded in her chest. “Theo, the tents are on fire!” The words had barely left her lips when Melina ran by them followed by Evie. This time, she was fairly certain that what she saw was real.
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Imma smiled as Theo wiped the tears from her eyes. Her chiton felt so soft, like a cloud. Were clouds soft? Of course they were. And fluffy. She felt as if she could fly up to them and sit on one. Wouldn’t that be lovely, to glide upon a cloud? In fact, if she didn’t keep holding onto her sister’s arm, she felt as if she might float away. Maybe eating would make her heavier so she could stand without drifting into the sky. Although the notion of flying was intriguing, the young Leventi was afraid that she would never be able to come down again.
She followed Theo back toward the ruined tents. After the sea lion incident, she was surprised that her sister wanted anything more to do with her. The Queen of Taengea and had a reputation to uphold, and yet she was taking care of the sister who had embarrassed her and everyone else at the party. Those servants were going to spread this around, but Theo cared more for Imma than what people said of her. Of course her sisters loved her, even when she did something stupid like thinking a sea lion was Poseidon and wanted to marry her.
The sky was still beckoning for her to soar toward the sun. Theo stopped before a kline a fair distance from the wreckage and told that she was going to fill a plate for her. The finger she held up in warning seemed grow larger and larger, but when she blinked, it looked like a normal finger again. Imma understood that her sister expected her to stay where she was. When she let go, she felt like she was about to float away, but she forced herself to sit upon the kline. The world started spinning around her again and she closed her eyes, only to see brightly colored butterflies dancing behind them. How did they get there?
Theo returned with a plate for each of them. She was the best sister ever. Her husband was fighting a war somewhere far away and yet she still had time for Imma’s silliness. As she ate, the youngest Leventi girl realized how lucky she was to have such a caring sister and she promised herself that she would never resent her or her other sisters again. Instead of competition, she would think of them as her role models. She wanted to be just like Theo … confident and compassionate and willing to drop everything to help her family. Yes, Imma still envied her beauty, but beauty was only skin deep. Theo was beautiful on the inside too.
The delicious food brought her back down to earth. The world was still sparkly, but she no longer felt as if she was going to float away. Maybe all she had needed was something in her stomach to counteract the drugs and drink in her system. Imma nodded when Theo asked if she felt better. Her sister patted her knee and the young girl reached over and squeezed her hand. Her own was a bit greasy. “I hope the next wedding will not be mine,” she replied. “Selene and Nana will marry before I do.”
A movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention and she looked back at the tents. She thought she saw a shadowy figure, like a ghost, creeping toward the ones that were still standing, but when she blinked, it was gone. It was probably another delusion and she put it out of her mind. “When I do marry, I certainly hope my groom will be handsome.” An image of Nikos of Condos popped into her mind and she blushed. Why was she thinking of him? He had certainly made an impression on her, but she doubted he would want to …
Was that smoke wafting through the air? Had the cooks burnt the food? No, it was coming from the tents. Imma looked back and grabbed her sister's arm. Her heart pounded in her chest. “Theo, the tents are on fire!” The words had barely left her lips when Melina ran by them followed by Evie. This time, she was fairly certain that what she saw was real.
Imma smiled as Theo wiped the tears from her eyes. Her chiton felt so soft, like a cloud. Were clouds soft? Of course they were. And fluffy. She felt as if she could fly up to them and sit on one. Wouldn’t that be lovely, to glide upon a cloud? In fact, if she didn’t keep holding onto her sister’s arm, she felt as if she might float away. Maybe eating would make her heavier so she could stand without drifting into the sky. Although the notion of flying was intriguing, the young Leventi was afraid that she would never be able to come down again.
She followed Theo back toward the ruined tents. After the sea lion incident, she was surprised that her sister wanted anything more to do with her. The Queen of Taengea and had a reputation to uphold, and yet she was taking care of the sister who had embarrassed her and everyone else at the party. Those servants were going to spread this around, but Theo cared more for Imma than what people said of her. Of course her sisters loved her, even when she did something stupid like thinking a sea lion was Poseidon and wanted to marry her.
The sky was still beckoning for her to soar toward the sun. Theo stopped before a kline a fair distance from the wreckage and told that she was going to fill a plate for her. The finger she held up in warning seemed grow larger and larger, but when she blinked, it looked like a normal finger again. Imma understood that her sister expected her to stay where she was. When she let go, she felt like she was about to float away, but she forced herself to sit upon the kline. The world started spinning around her again and she closed her eyes, only to see brightly colored butterflies dancing behind them. How did they get there?
Theo returned with a plate for each of them. She was the best sister ever. Her husband was fighting a war somewhere far away and yet she still had time for Imma’s silliness. As she ate, the youngest Leventi girl realized how lucky she was to have such a caring sister and she promised herself that she would never resent her or her other sisters again. Instead of competition, she would think of them as her role models. She wanted to be just like Theo … confident and compassionate and willing to drop everything to help her family. Yes, Imma still envied her beauty, but beauty was only skin deep. Theo was beautiful on the inside too.
The delicious food brought her back down to earth. The world was still sparkly, but she no longer felt as if she was going to float away. Maybe all she had needed was something in her stomach to counteract the drugs and drink in her system. Imma nodded when Theo asked if she felt better. Her sister patted her knee and the young girl reached over and squeezed her hand. Her own was a bit greasy. “I hope the next wedding will not be mine,” she replied. “Selene and Nana will marry before I do.”
A movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention and she looked back at the tents. She thought she saw a shadowy figure, like a ghost, creeping toward the ones that were still standing, but when she blinked, it was gone. It was probably another delusion and she put it out of her mind. “When I do marry, I certainly hope my groom will be handsome.” An image of Nikos of Condos popped into her mind and she blushed. Why was she thinking of him? He had certainly made an impression on her, but she doubted he would want to …
Was that smoke wafting through the air? Had the cooks burnt the food? No, it was coming from the tents. Imma looked back and grabbed her sister's arm. Her heart pounded in her chest. “Theo, the tents are on fire!” The words had barely left her lips when Melina ran by them followed by Evie. This time, she was fairly certain that what she saw was real.
Theodora smiled when Imma squeezed her hand, the Queen then twining their fingers together so she could grasp it more firmly. The youngest Leventi commented that the next wedding wouldn’t be hers, that Selene and Nana would marry first, but Theo did not exactly share her confidence. By all rights, Selene should have been the first one married, yet each arrangement made for her had fallen through again and again. Idly, she wondered what life would have been like if Selene had been the one to marry Achilleas rather than her—if the eldest Leventi’s golden head would have borne the crown any easier than hers or Pia’s did. Perhaps then she would have been free to marry Emilios, free to separate herself from all the madness overtaking Taengea…
But none of those hypotheticals mattered. She was married to Achilleas, Selene remained unwed, and her youngest sister had drunkenly tried to marry a sea lion. Wasn’t the Leventi family grand?
When I do marry, I certainly hope my groom will be handsome.
Imma’s remark managed to pull Theo back out of her thoughts, chuckling quietly and nodding in agreement. “Of course he will be,” she was quick to assure her with another squeeze to their conjoined hands. “I’m the Queen. I can’t very well allow some hideous monster to wed my baby sister, now can I?”
Their conversation was soon interrupted by yet more chaos, a sharp scent of smoke wafting across the beach toward them. Just as Imma was crying out about the tents being on fire, Theodora was turning her head to look—eyes widening in horror at the sight. Jumping to her feet, she pulled Imma up with her, the plates of mostly eaten food abandoned and forgotten.
Quickly as she could move across the sands, she was hastening her sister away from the blaze as Melina and Evangelina were rushing toward it. What did they think they were doing?! It was then she saw Dafni and sighed; of course she would be the one to be running toward it and trying to play with it. She wasn’t exactly the shiniest apple of the bunch.
It was only due to Evie’s quick thinking that the fire didn’t spread further, the woman collapsing the remaining canvas over the flame until it eventually ate itself out. Heart pounding in her chest, she looked over Imma to reassure herself the younger woman was all right before shaking her head when the bride-to-be asked if anyone else had seen anything.
“Nothing. Maybe one of the torches fell?” It was entirely possible, especially with most of the women present in various states of intoxication. Could it be that it was deliberately set? She doubted anyone here would do such a thing, and surely someone would have seen another person before they were able to set the blaze. Who knew?
Shaking her head, she sighed. It felt like the party had barely begun before it fell into disaster, and now she was just exhausted. She couldn’t imagine anyone else felt much better than she did after all of this, and so she made the quiet suggestion, “Perhaps we ought to call it a night, Evie. Before something else happens.”
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Theodora smiled when Imma squeezed her hand, the Queen then twining their fingers together so she could grasp it more firmly. The youngest Leventi commented that the next wedding wouldn’t be hers, that Selene and Nana would marry first, but Theo did not exactly share her confidence. By all rights, Selene should have been the first one married, yet each arrangement made for her had fallen through again and again. Idly, she wondered what life would have been like if Selene had been the one to marry Achilleas rather than her—if the eldest Leventi’s golden head would have borne the crown any easier than hers or Pia’s did. Perhaps then she would have been free to marry Emilios, free to separate herself from all the madness overtaking Taengea…
But none of those hypotheticals mattered. She was married to Achilleas, Selene remained unwed, and her youngest sister had drunkenly tried to marry a sea lion. Wasn’t the Leventi family grand?
When I do marry, I certainly hope my groom will be handsome.
Imma’s remark managed to pull Theo back out of her thoughts, chuckling quietly and nodding in agreement. “Of course he will be,” she was quick to assure her with another squeeze to their conjoined hands. “I’m the Queen. I can’t very well allow some hideous monster to wed my baby sister, now can I?”
Their conversation was soon interrupted by yet more chaos, a sharp scent of smoke wafting across the beach toward them. Just as Imma was crying out about the tents being on fire, Theodora was turning her head to look—eyes widening in horror at the sight. Jumping to her feet, she pulled Imma up with her, the plates of mostly eaten food abandoned and forgotten.
Quickly as she could move across the sands, she was hastening her sister away from the blaze as Melina and Evangelina were rushing toward it. What did they think they were doing?! It was then she saw Dafni and sighed; of course she would be the one to be running toward it and trying to play with it. She wasn’t exactly the shiniest apple of the bunch.
It was only due to Evie’s quick thinking that the fire didn’t spread further, the woman collapsing the remaining canvas over the flame until it eventually ate itself out. Heart pounding in her chest, she looked over Imma to reassure herself the younger woman was all right before shaking her head when the bride-to-be asked if anyone else had seen anything.
“Nothing. Maybe one of the torches fell?” It was entirely possible, especially with most of the women present in various states of intoxication. Could it be that it was deliberately set? She doubted anyone here would do such a thing, and surely someone would have seen another person before they were able to set the blaze. Who knew?
Shaking her head, she sighed. It felt like the party had barely begun before it fell into disaster, and now she was just exhausted. She couldn’t imagine anyone else felt much better than she did after all of this, and so she made the quiet suggestion, “Perhaps we ought to call it a night, Evie. Before something else happens.”
Theodora smiled when Imma squeezed her hand, the Queen then twining their fingers together so she could grasp it more firmly. The youngest Leventi commented that the next wedding wouldn’t be hers, that Selene and Nana would marry first, but Theo did not exactly share her confidence. By all rights, Selene should have been the first one married, yet each arrangement made for her had fallen through again and again. Idly, she wondered what life would have been like if Selene had been the one to marry Achilleas rather than her—if the eldest Leventi’s golden head would have borne the crown any easier than hers or Pia’s did. Perhaps then she would have been free to marry Emilios, free to separate herself from all the madness overtaking Taengea…
But none of those hypotheticals mattered. She was married to Achilleas, Selene remained unwed, and her youngest sister had drunkenly tried to marry a sea lion. Wasn’t the Leventi family grand?
When I do marry, I certainly hope my groom will be handsome.
Imma’s remark managed to pull Theo back out of her thoughts, chuckling quietly and nodding in agreement. “Of course he will be,” she was quick to assure her with another squeeze to their conjoined hands. “I’m the Queen. I can’t very well allow some hideous monster to wed my baby sister, now can I?”
Their conversation was soon interrupted by yet more chaos, a sharp scent of smoke wafting across the beach toward them. Just as Imma was crying out about the tents being on fire, Theodora was turning her head to look—eyes widening in horror at the sight. Jumping to her feet, she pulled Imma up with her, the plates of mostly eaten food abandoned and forgotten.
Quickly as she could move across the sands, she was hastening her sister away from the blaze as Melina and Evangelina were rushing toward it. What did they think they were doing?! It was then she saw Dafni and sighed; of course she would be the one to be running toward it and trying to play with it. She wasn’t exactly the shiniest apple of the bunch.
It was only due to Evie’s quick thinking that the fire didn’t spread further, the woman collapsing the remaining canvas over the flame until it eventually ate itself out. Heart pounding in her chest, she looked over Imma to reassure herself the younger woman was all right before shaking her head when the bride-to-be asked if anyone else had seen anything.
“Nothing. Maybe one of the torches fell?” It was entirely possible, especially with most of the women present in various states of intoxication. Could it be that it was deliberately set? She doubted anyone here would do such a thing, and surely someone would have seen another person before they were able to set the blaze. Who knew?
Shaking her head, she sighed. It felt like the party had barely begun before it fell into disaster, and now she was just exhausted. She couldn’t imagine anyone else felt much better than she did after all of this, and so she made the quiet suggestion, “Perhaps we ought to call it a night, Evie. Before something else happens.”
Dafni’s feet whispered to her their desire to grow closer, to quench their need for excitement and texture in the cold of the billowing flames. For the ocean would not do, it was far too hot. The flickering blue and orange tongues of fire becoming dizzyingly enchanting with their lack of monotonous movement, a veritable monologue of all that was missing from her stale life if she had ever heard one. The vivid color of the story the flames spun teasing her ears in a cascade of clamoring voices. One second her mother sang them in a voice blessed by the angels, and in the next, a lion; strong and loud, roared them to the world. The story was long and boring, and even as Dafni danced to their tune, she mourned the unfairness of it all. The dastardly married status of all the eligible men, and refusal of the other nobles to give her the horses she most coveted. The lack of adoration from her peers, and denial of affection from her father. All Dafni wanted were simple things; crowns and jewels and acts of obsessive love, but none were forthcoming. The horror of the story her flames spun making her eyes sniffle and nose cry.
But in a blink of her heavy ears everything changed. Excitement was brought back into her life with the ferocity of an angrily thrown book. Words twirling across Dafni’s retinas and a happy hug constricted her body, the gesture full of jubilant expression. It was Melina! Dafni loved Melina. And Melina loved books. Dafni felt, in that moment, and for the first time in quite a stretch, as if her sister's love for her was akin to the written word. Akin to the leather bindings of story filled pages and knowledgeable accounts.
“I’m your favorite book!” Dafni squealed gleefully to her sister, legs taking the opportunity to wrap as completely around her sister’s waist as her arms were around her neck. “I always knew I was your favorite, not even your romance novels could compare!” She babbled, her thoughts becoming more and more erratic and hard to follow the longer she spoke. What seemed like years later Melina’s hug started to make Dafni feel a sensation she was not well accustomed to, a sensation that flashed her back to the days of naïve childhood games. Melina’s hug... started to tickle. A scream of glee leaving Dafni’s lipstick smeared lips. “Stop!” She begged her big sister as the tickling continued, her petite form writhing in Melina's grip as it attempted to escape the intensity of the sensation. Giggles and uncontainable snorts leaving her in a chorus of mirth. “Melina!” Dafni shouted once more, until finally, a new face swam before her eyes. One that did not belong to her sister. Dafni’s eyes grew wide, her brain morbidly fascinated as the disembodied, bald, and floating head, preceded to speak.
“Who did this, Dafni?”
Releasing one hand from its death grip on Melina Dafni reached out towards the face, her fingers hesitant but curious as they tried to explore where the head seemed to meet empty air.
“Boop!” She said, her lips popping the p much like she expected to pop the head upon the connection of her finger with its nose. No such luck. “Hello Mr. Head.” Dafni singsonged gleefully, eyes growing distant as her mind wandered elsewhere, only to be brought back to the head once more.
“Did anyone else see anything? How’d this happen?”
This time it had hair, purple to be exact, a purple that would look much better on herself if Dafni was going to be honest. She squinted at the hair, trying to touch it even as her mouth formed the words her brain barely remembered coming up with.
“It was the tickle monster,” the adorable drugged up darling whispered conspiratorially, “But don't tell anyone.” Dafni finished, a very serious head nod accenting her stark warning; the hopeless young Leventi very pleased with herself for imparting such vital information as the identity of the flame maker. Even as she talked her free hand started to pet Melina’s hair. But it was not enough. In the next second, her mouth was biting at her sister's head in an attempt to eat what suddenly appeared to her to be her favorite delicacy, a giant steamed snail; albeit a very hairy one. She would need to talk to the cook about this, it was utterly unacceptable.
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Dafni’s feet whispered to her their desire to grow closer, to quench their need for excitement and texture in the cold of the billowing flames. For the ocean would not do, it was far too hot. The flickering blue and orange tongues of fire becoming dizzyingly enchanting with their lack of monotonous movement, a veritable monologue of all that was missing from her stale life if she had ever heard one. The vivid color of the story the flames spun teasing her ears in a cascade of clamoring voices. One second her mother sang them in a voice blessed by the angels, and in the next, a lion; strong and loud, roared them to the world. The story was long and boring, and even as Dafni danced to their tune, she mourned the unfairness of it all. The dastardly married status of all the eligible men, and refusal of the other nobles to give her the horses she most coveted. The lack of adoration from her peers, and denial of affection from her father. All Dafni wanted were simple things; crowns and jewels and acts of obsessive love, but none were forthcoming. The horror of the story her flames spun making her eyes sniffle and nose cry.
But in a blink of her heavy ears everything changed. Excitement was brought back into her life with the ferocity of an angrily thrown book. Words twirling across Dafni’s retinas and a happy hug constricted her body, the gesture full of jubilant expression. It was Melina! Dafni loved Melina. And Melina loved books. Dafni felt, in that moment, and for the first time in quite a stretch, as if her sister's love for her was akin to the written word. Akin to the leather bindings of story filled pages and knowledgeable accounts.
“I’m your favorite book!” Dafni squealed gleefully to her sister, legs taking the opportunity to wrap as completely around her sister’s waist as her arms were around her neck. “I always knew I was your favorite, not even your romance novels could compare!” She babbled, her thoughts becoming more and more erratic and hard to follow the longer she spoke. What seemed like years later Melina’s hug started to make Dafni feel a sensation she was not well accustomed to, a sensation that flashed her back to the days of naïve childhood games. Melina’s hug... started to tickle. A scream of glee leaving Dafni’s lipstick smeared lips. “Stop!” She begged her big sister as the tickling continued, her petite form writhing in Melina's grip as it attempted to escape the intensity of the sensation. Giggles and uncontainable snorts leaving her in a chorus of mirth. “Melina!” Dafni shouted once more, until finally, a new face swam before her eyes. One that did not belong to her sister. Dafni’s eyes grew wide, her brain morbidly fascinated as the disembodied, bald, and floating head, preceded to speak.
“Who did this, Dafni?”
Releasing one hand from its death grip on Melina Dafni reached out towards the face, her fingers hesitant but curious as they tried to explore where the head seemed to meet empty air.
“Boop!” She said, her lips popping the p much like she expected to pop the head upon the connection of her finger with its nose. No such luck. “Hello Mr. Head.” Dafni singsonged gleefully, eyes growing distant as her mind wandered elsewhere, only to be brought back to the head once more.
“Did anyone else see anything? How’d this happen?”
This time it had hair, purple to be exact, a purple that would look much better on herself if Dafni was going to be honest. She squinted at the hair, trying to touch it even as her mouth formed the words her brain barely remembered coming up with.
“It was the tickle monster,” the adorable drugged up darling whispered conspiratorially, “But don't tell anyone.” Dafni finished, a very serious head nod accenting her stark warning; the hopeless young Leventi very pleased with herself for imparting such vital information as the identity of the flame maker. Even as she talked her free hand started to pet Melina’s hair. But it was not enough. In the next second, her mouth was biting at her sister's head in an attempt to eat what suddenly appeared to her to be her favorite delicacy, a giant steamed snail; albeit a very hairy one. She would need to talk to the cook about this, it was utterly unacceptable.
Dafni’s feet whispered to her their desire to grow closer, to quench their need for excitement and texture in the cold of the billowing flames. For the ocean would not do, it was far too hot. The flickering blue and orange tongues of fire becoming dizzyingly enchanting with their lack of monotonous movement, a veritable monologue of all that was missing from her stale life if she had ever heard one. The vivid color of the story the flames spun teasing her ears in a cascade of clamoring voices. One second her mother sang them in a voice blessed by the angels, and in the next, a lion; strong and loud, roared them to the world. The story was long and boring, and even as Dafni danced to their tune, she mourned the unfairness of it all. The dastardly married status of all the eligible men, and refusal of the other nobles to give her the horses she most coveted. The lack of adoration from her peers, and denial of affection from her father. All Dafni wanted were simple things; crowns and jewels and acts of obsessive love, but none were forthcoming. The horror of the story her flames spun making her eyes sniffle and nose cry.
But in a blink of her heavy ears everything changed. Excitement was brought back into her life with the ferocity of an angrily thrown book. Words twirling across Dafni’s retinas and a happy hug constricted her body, the gesture full of jubilant expression. It was Melina! Dafni loved Melina. And Melina loved books. Dafni felt, in that moment, and for the first time in quite a stretch, as if her sister's love for her was akin to the written word. Akin to the leather bindings of story filled pages and knowledgeable accounts.
“I’m your favorite book!” Dafni squealed gleefully to her sister, legs taking the opportunity to wrap as completely around her sister’s waist as her arms were around her neck. “I always knew I was your favorite, not even your romance novels could compare!” She babbled, her thoughts becoming more and more erratic and hard to follow the longer she spoke. What seemed like years later Melina’s hug started to make Dafni feel a sensation she was not well accustomed to, a sensation that flashed her back to the days of naïve childhood games. Melina’s hug... started to tickle. A scream of glee leaving Dafni’s lipstick smeared lips. “Stop!” She begged her big sister as the tickling continued, her petite form writhing in Melina's grip as it attempted to escape the intensity of the sensation. Giggles and uncontainable snorts leaving her in a chorus of mirth. “Melina!” Dafni shouted once more, until finally, a new face swam before her eyes. One that did not belong to her sister. Dafni’s eyes grew wide, her brain morbidly fascinated as the disembodied, bald, and floating head, preceded to speak.
“Who did this, Dafni?”
Releasing one hand from its death grip on Melina Dafni reached out towards the face, her fingers hesitant but curious as they tried to explore where the head seemed to meet empty air.
“Boop!” She said, her lips popping the p much like she expected to pop the head upon the connection of her finger with its nose. No such luck. “Hello Mr. Head.” Dafni singsonged gleefully, eyes growing distant as her mind wandered elsewhere, only to be brought back to the head once more.
“Did anyone else see anything? How’d this happen?”
This time it had hair, purple to be exact, a purple that would look much better on herself if Dafni was going to be honest. She squinted at the hair, trying to touch it even as her mouth formed the words her brain barely remembered coming up with.
“It was the tickle monster,” the adorable drugged up darling whispered conspiratorially, “But don't tell anyone.” Dafni finished, a very serious head nod accenting her stark warning; the hopeless young Leventi very pleased with herself for imparting such vital information as the identity of the flame maker. Even as she talked her free hand started to pet Melina’s hair. But it was not enough. In the next second, her mouth was biting at her sister's head in an attempt to eat what suddenly appeared to her to be her favorite delicacy, a giant steamed snail; albeit a very hairy one. She would need to talk to the cook about this, it was utterly unacceptable.
