Sanguine

Doll

"Marcia, Matilda, Maria, Margreta, Maximiliana, Magdalena!" a whiny, high-pitched voice echoed through the castle halls and it was accompanied by the sound of pitter-pattering little feet, running as fast as they could. It was little Mircalla Karnstein. She was about six years old now and she was currently in the process of trying to find any of her six older sisters. It was her belief that one of them had stolen her favorite doll as some sort of meanspirited joke. She wouldn't put it past any of them. And it the doll wasn't in any of the places she usually left it, so that implied that someone had taken it from her. She continued to run through the long, twisted halls, ignoring the cold chill of the stone on her bare feet.

"Marcia, Matilda, Maria, Margreta, Maximiliana, Magdalena!" she repeated angrily, but after long enough, her search was finally over. She managed to find Marcia curled up alone in the royal library.

"Marcia!" Mircalla whined as she entered the library, making a bee-line for Marcia.

"What?" Marcia asked, not looking up from her book.

"Did you take my doll?" Mircalla pouted, annoyed that her sister wasn't paying attention to her.

"What?" Marcia repeated, amusement in her low, rich voice. She finally turned from her novel to look at her youngest sister.

"My doll! I can't find her! Did you take her?" Mircalla pressed and when Marcia began to laugh, Mircalla's pout only deepened.

"Why would you think I have your doll?" the older girl asked.

"Because I can't find her anywhere!" Mircalla responded irritably.

"You know I'm too old for dolls!" Marcia cried back, exasperated amusement in her voice as she continued to stare down at Mircalla.

"Well then where's Maria? Maybe she'll know!" Mircalla's voice took a deadly edge as her temper shortened. That was a big mistake on her part.

The moment she dared allow such a threatening timbre to enter her voice, the fun and games ended. Suddenly, Marcia was no longer the amused big sister Mircalla knew and loved. Instead, she became the fierce Karnstein that she was born to be.

"Mircalla Karnstein! You know better than to speak to me, your oldest sister, with such a disrespectful tone!" Marcia never raised her voice above a whisper, but her tone was so threatening that she didn't need to. "I may be your sister, but I am still also your superior, and I expect to be treated as such. Am I understood?" she demanded. Her eyes were as cold and hard as the stone wall behind her. Mircalla looked down in fear, but said nothing. Marcia responded by leaning forward slowly towards Mircalla...

"Understood!" Mircalla was quick to cry out and jump back, visibly trembling with fear.

"Good," Marcia looked at her little sister with languid and burning eyes, reclining back again.

But with her display of power over, Marcia allowed her face and voice to soften once again.

"I bet at least one of our sisters is in the kitchen," she offered gently.

"Thanks," Mircalla replied nervously. Even though she knew Marcia wasn't mad anymore, she was still a bit scared by her intimidating display. Marcia could be really scary when she wanted to be. But it made sense. She was the family's main heir, after all. She would make an excellent countess and leader of Karnstein someday...

"No thanks!" Mircalla whispered to herself as she fled the library. Maybe that sort of lifestyle suited Marcia, but Mircalla hoped that she would never turn out like that. No way. She liked being the cute one of the family! But while she scurried away, Marcia continued to watch her leave, a small smile on her face. At least Mircalla had been sweet enough to give her a tiny curtesy before unceremoniously fleeing the room.