Cynosure

Mother Dearest...

"You are so ugly Gwen. Look at you." Mother tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "Why can't you be more like your sister? She's so beautiful and does everything perfectly." The side of my face is stroked affectionately but Mother's grip on my arm pains me. I look slightly to the right, to where my sister is.

She blinks in surprise as she catches my eye. A gentle smile is offered to me but all I can do is wince as Mother tightens her grip, drawing my attention back to her.

"Both you and Eden are almost at the age to be officially announced as part of the royal family. You will be on your best behavior." The scowl on her face is smoothed out, returning her back to her regal state. Mother stands up and brings a hand up towards Eden.

"Come, Eden. Lady Audrey and her daughter entered palace today. You will do well to greet them." Eden smiles brightly and turns to look at me.

"Gwen, you should come–"

"Eden." The harsh tone of Mother's voice makes me clench my teeth.

"You know I don't like going to these kind of of things. My curtsy and table manners aren't as good as yours anyways, Eden." I look away from Eden and stare at the back of Mother's head. "I wouldn't want to embarrass anyone."

"Come along now Eden. You heard your sister." She slowly gets up from her seat and walks towards Mother. Before leaving the study, she turns and curtsy. Her delicate fingers grasp at her overskirt, bringing them out and slightly up.

She moves evenly, with a slight tilt of her head downwards. My hands turn into fists at my sides, bunching up the soft material of my skirt.

It was obvious who Mother favored. Eden was constantly drowned in silks and gold of the finest quality to bring out her beauty. I was always given the things she didn't want.

Always given the simplistic jewelry, the one piece dresses contrasting the two piece ones Mother and Eden both wear.

It was traditional, expected even, for the women of Royal status to flaunt their navel areas as a sign of their title. Unlike the common people who have a dark scar, the people of noble status had a hollowed in navel. At times the waist and hip area was more decorated than the crown atop Mothers head.

When Eden finishes her curtsy there's the brightest smile on her face, as if she just accomplished something great. With a turn of her head, she rushes out the door after Mother. I could only stare at her fading figure as the doors closed.

I hate that curtsy of hers. Completely perfect. As if she was mocking me with every subtle movement she made. I could never be as perfect as her. That was decided the moment we were born, her small pink body entirely smooth, without a single hair out of place.

Her umbilical cord was removed with precision while mine left a ugly scab that faded into the smooth patch of skin by my navel area, much like the commoners and slaves Mother and Father rule over, who could not get a proper doctor to deliver the child. If stripped of my clothing I would be the same.

I release the fabric of my skirt and let out a breath I was not aware I was holding.

~

I dislike this part of myself. The part that still yearns to be alongside Mother when she does her greetings, or with Eden when she plays with the daughters of Duchesses and Ladies, even princesses of other kingdoms.

I couldn't bring myself to shake this habit of following after Mother and Eden when there's visitors. Eden's laughter is loud and clear and so is Lady Audrey's daughters as they play in the garden.