BEAUTIFUL

NINE

Astoria

What a strange thought.

The idea that one singular sentence, a particular grouping of nouns, adjectives, and verbs strung together in a somewhat cohesive manner having the capability of sending your nerves into a frenzy. In some situations, that could be considered a good thing— But unfortunately for this one, I don't believe it is.

"What?" I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as my eyebrows dip into a frown. When they refocus, I'm met Velma's apprehensive face.

"Your father requires your presence in his study," She quietly utters again, the concern in her eyes palpable as she urges me out of bed.

My spine straightens at her words, my nerves practically jumping from my skin. The room goes cold, eliciting goosebumps that can only be seen beneath the moonlight and Anastasia's glowing nightlight in the corner.

"Me?" I implore, my nerves amplifying when she nods, her face incredibly troubled.

I glance to my right, scanning over the heaps of messy dark hair splayed among the pillows on my bed, the only visible evidence of my sisters soundly asleep under the comforter. My gaze catches on Azalea's head of dark hair, before moving to her current read bookmarked and forgotten on the bedside table. For a quick second, I almost forget about the daunting news I just received, and I'm filled gratitude that Azzy's new meds are working well for her.

Then I meet Velma's worry-filled expression again, and that ghastly feeling of dread creeps back up my spine. I swallow thickly before I whisper, careful not to wake up my sisters,"Just me?"

My eyes run along the lines of her face, scanning her. She's been my lady's maid since I was in diapers, so I've grown used to her warm smiles and endearing persona. But I'm not used to the concern coating her features, or the dark circles beneath her eyes.

"Just you, mon cher." She confirms, forcing a brave face and giving me a reassuring smile.

Admittedly, that piece of information had me feeling a little nervous. The mere notion of my father needing me for something so detrimental that it couldn't wait until the sun had properly risen is an unnerving thought. The notion so improbable that I can't even think of a realistic reason as to why or what he'd require me for.

It's very rare that my father seeks me out. He's far too busy being the head of house and ensuring everything stays afloat— Not to mention, there are 7 of us children, so it's rather hard for him to keep up with all of us. His remaining time is allotted to his eldest sons, his heir-apparent and his spare, leaving only my mother to manage my life.

My father's presence in my life, I consider it to be the equivalent of a blue moon. It doesn't occur all that much, but when it does, it prominent and substantial— And often times, of great consequence. So the fact that he has summoned me to his study at such early hours is a clear indication that something is wrong.

I squeeze my eyes shut, allowing my mind to go blank and wrangle my nerves. When I reopen my eyes, I quietly get out of bed, mindful of my sleeping sisters, and slip on my fur slippers.

Yvanna lifts her head up from her position at the foot of my bed, curious and confused, as I'm breaking our typical routine. Her brown eyes follow each of my movements as Velma smooths down my hair, ushering me downstairs while mumbling about how we shouldn't keep my father waiting. My dog hops off the bed, and trots beside me as I venture downstairs.