Destined

Chapter 12-Performance

March 26th, year 963 A.R.E

The weeping increased, louder as I instructed, but not quite as natural sounding.

"Alydia, your quality is slipping again," I sighed, yanking a lock of my hair in frustration. "Channel your cries from your stomach and chest."

Alydia groaned, shoulders falling, tired of having to repeat the same part of the scene over and over. But she tried again, determined to get it right. "Oh, Reginald! My Reginald! Your eyes cannot see me or the children, can they?" she wailed, at last doing justice to my aunt's pain, struck with the realization that her husband was blind as an elderly man.

Silence.

"Cecelia, that's your cue!" I slapped Drianna's notebook to forehead in aggravation. This rehearsal was one of our last, and it was going about just as well as the first had—completely disastrous.

Paranoid, I hastily retrieved my Antony's circlet from my pocket, which were attached to all of my dresses these days, so that my circlet would always be at hand when needed, slipping it around the crown of my head. Instantly, a sense of utter tranquility washed over me, and I closed my eyes, welcoming the sensation.

"Did you say something?"

My eyes shot open so that I could glare at Cecelia properly. "Yes, I was, and you were perfectly aware of your line. You were looking right at Alydia, for Fairies sake! Would you stop pretending you don't know your lines and cooperate for a change?"

"Oh, of course. My apologies." Cecelia's tone was completely apologetic, but the smirk on her face declared her as anything but regretful. "Ah yes, I remember now. No, my love. All I can envision is this desert covered in mounds and mounds of glorious chocolates. No, I cannot see your face. But if you just find the cure, if you just find my delicious remedy, I shall be able to see your beautiful face once more."

It was admirable really, that she could be so humorous, but still stay completely in character, without having even the tiniest bit of a grin of tugging at her lips. Not that I was going to tell her that, of course. "Cecelia, enough!" I gritted my teeth as both she and Alydia caught one another's eye, exploding into a wild bout of laughter. "We're never going to have a successful practice if you keep being an, an—"

"An imbecile?" Cecelia supplied, giving me a roguish wink, knowing just how I would respond to such vulgarity.

"How many times, Cecelia? How many times have we spoken about using that kind of language?" I cried, grinding the rows of my teeth against one other like blades.

"Oh, I wouldn't know, but I'll wager you do. But what's the fuss? It isn't as though I'm calling you an imbecile this time."

Thank the Fairies for Antony's circlet. It had saved me from fits on numerous occasions already, especially during rehearsals, when Cecelia dedicated herself to being obnoxious. Unfortunately, however, she was necessary for my productions, since Alydia refused to take on male roles, and I was too busy enough with the directing and narration to fill her place.

"Cecelia, just stop and think for a moment, all right?" I said, switching my tactic from lecturing to reason, thinking it might get her to behave. "We're performing for our teachers and governesses, our aunt and uncle, and the rest of our family. And we're performing tomorrow morning; the day of the Arts Celebration. Not next month, not next week—tomorrow! That means we have this practice, and just one more to get this right. Do you really want to be the one who disgraces us? Do you want to be the one who disgraces Father?"

At the mention of our father, a glint of something appeared in Cecelia's hazel eyes—regret. I smiled inwardly. At last, I had found her weakness, and now I just had to exploit it. While that would indeed be a cruel method in dealing with most people, it was justice when it came to Cecelia. The girl was a nuisance. "Can you imagine how he would feel if you acted like a child instead of your role? He would be so ashamed of you. He would be so embarrassed!"