Selene
“No! What in the Goddess’s name is this miserable piece of fabric? Why can you not do anything right? I ought to have you exiled!” Solisa exclaimed, kicking at the beautiful dress. The light from the nearby torch hit the diamonds that were scattered across the bodice of the dress, bathing the room in a tawny light. It made Solisa look even lovelier than she was and I felt a bubble of gratefulness bloom inside me. Thank the heavens she’s lovely; the gods themselves know there are no other redeeming qualities in her.
She stalked about, quite like an angry kitten, looking over her shoulder and scowling at the line of the rejected dresses. With a spoiled air that only those born with power can muster, she tossed her hands up into the air, muttering about the ungratefulness of the help these days. The maid flinched, putting up her arms to protect her face, gazing at me pleadingly from behind them. She thinks I’m soft. I should ignore her plea just to prove a point. I am a fierce phoenix. Hear me roar.
I held up a finger wearily and pointed to the door. The maid smiled gratefully at me and scurried out, no doubt preparing to regale the maids in the kitchen with tales of an abusive princess. I sighed, waiting for Her Highness to turn her fury upon me. Solisa turned to me, her eye twitching. Gods be damned. How does she manage to still look beautiful while doing that?
“Selene, you heartless little whelp, could you not have gotten the dress for me?”
I sighed and bowed, straightening back up in time to instinctively catch the metal hairbrush she threw at me, a skill picked up from years of dealing with her tantrums. It was a nearly flawless dexterity that never failed to infuriate her further.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness. As you are well aware, we are leaving for the Kingdom of Onnar in one week’s time. I was overseeing the preparations for this trip. Of course, this is no excuse for shirking my responsibilities.” I mumbled, tilting my head to the side to hide my eyes. She hated my eyes. Yes, I was working my rear end off while you clutched at your pastries and moaned about your ‘womanly troubles’
It had taken me years to perfect the look of pitiful groveling servitude, but I saved it for these moments.
“I think you’re a despicable wench who is attempting to kill me and take my place in line to the throne. No, I know that is what you’re doing. There is no fondness lost between us, yes? My father is the reason you are here. Seeing as he is no longer here, you had better endeavor to remain on my good side, Selene. You will get me the dress, yes?” She said, pointing at the door. I could tell by the way she curled her fingers vindictively around the handle that she was challenging me. I bowed and left, accepting the unspoken challenge. I knew that if I didn't return with a beautiful dress by nightfall, I would be locked out of the palace.
While I understood why she would be irritated, I had never understood why she nursed such a deep hatred of me. I was a gutter rat, in every essence of the word, and I had been taken in by her father.
As I strode through corridors of the castle, I smiled at the maids and manservants that passed by. Most of them nodded, but a few of them were brave enough to flash a grin at me. It filled me with warmth.
As I strode to the stables, I saw that my horse was already saddled. Looking over, I gave a questioning look toward the stable boy. John was an incorrigible thief that had had his tongue cut out by the ripe age of fifteen. He could not speak, but had developed a way to communicate with his hands. I adored him. Not in a romantic way, of course. I was fairly convinced that he was actually born to be my friend. He had an acrid wit that delighted the wicked side of me to no end.
