Two Princes

1. Two Princes

December 31

Happy New Year's Eve to you, my dear diary, my closest confidant and friend. It is my birthday tonight, when the clock chimes midnight and the ball drops, like every year, and Mother always said that even though she did not give birth to me, I was her New Year's baby, the greatest gift she received that year. This time of year especially, I miss her so much.

Father is as wrapped up in business as ever, and I suspect he is counting on Arthur to be the one to make my birthday special. My sisters are equally distracted, though I know they will at least bother to recognize the occasion when they rise in the morning. I know I should be happy for Father, and how the Liones Vineyards and Winery is so quickly expanding into the sort of powerhouse he always envisioned-and perhaps also I should be so grateful for his partnership with Arthur's father, and what that means for our family and for myself. But a daughter needs her father...and I miss the father he was before we became wealthy and influential.

As much as I might wish that he would not, I suppose his expectations are not misplaced, to depend on Arthur to take care of my birthday. Arthur is as sweet and kind as any young man, and even more so because with his family's money and connections, he is neither entitled nor arrogant. Father praises him highly, so often, and stresses what a good match it is. I guess he's still surprised-as was I-when Arthur displayed an interest in me rather than in Margaret. (I know she wasn't displeased, though, as wrapped up as she is in a romance with Gil.) Yes, he is wonderful...and I do look forward to whatever he may have in store for me. For us.

But... Elizabeth muses, staying the pen in her hand... There is no need to write the thought, nor to even finish it. The single, tiny "But" is enough.

Sighing, she closes her diary and secures the lock with the tiny silver key kept on a chain around her neck, and tucks the small book away in an inconspicuous place on her bookshelf. It blends in well; nobody's attention would ever be drawn to it, and that is exactly what she needs. After all, every girl is entitled to a secret. Or a few.

"Elizabeth?" A soft knock on the white bedroom door; Elizabeth quickly gets up and goes to pull it open.

"Come in, Margaret." She invites her sister to take a seat on the window cushion next to her, one slender leg tucked beneath her body, and she cuddles one of the throw pillows.

"Happy birthday, little sister." Margaret pulls her into a warm, lingering hug, and Elizabeth breathes in the perfume of her sister's long locks. It's the same shampoo their mother used to use, and it only brings Elizabeth to miss her more terribly.

"Thank you, M."

"I have something for you. Veronica helped me pick it out; she said the color would match your eyes. It was Mother's." Margaret pulls a small box from the pocket of her house robe, and hands it to Elizabeth, who smooths her fingers over the soft velvet before opening it.

"Oh, Margaret... It's so beautiful." She lifts a ring from the slit in the velvet bed, and holds it toward the soft yellow glow from her bedside lamp. A rainbow of colors dances across the smooth surface of the opal, set daintily in rose gold, and Elizabeth tries it on every finger. It will only fit the fourth finger of her left hand, and Margaret chuckles. "Maybe people will think you're engaged. But Father will recognize the ring, and make sure you tell Arthur and his family that it was Mother's. To clarify."

Elizabeth nods, and cradles her left hand with her right, next to her heart. "Thank you so much, Margaret. I'll always wear it."

Her sister takes hold of her hand and examines how perfectly the ring decorates her delicate white finger. "You remember how much Mother loved opals, and how she loved you. I know she would have wanted you to have it."