Winged

Chapter Twenty-Three

Annabelle

Not daring to attempt to once more become who I was in case of any noticeable fault, I form a new human body for myself, until the clothing I had stolen drapes over my thin figure, not yet fully human, before filling them out so they fit snug and tight around my new curves. I must look more like the woman intended for this outfit, now. But without the title of royal blood, I'm not sure how I'll get out again. Maybe shift to an insect and crawl under the door they let me in through, seeing as I still won't be able to get through the main entrance.

The booth has no windows so that, I assume, the Manin can't escape, but a magicked light source rests on the table, giving my skin a pale, almost blueish hue. Compared to my sisters, in the sunlight, I suspect my newest skin should appear almost golden. For once, I've tanned.

Escape, because, despite the luxury, the glamour- the creatures that are here do not have the free will to leave.

I wonder how many of the Manin were born here, in captivity? How many wish to leave, and how many see this place as home?

I feel tired now, exhausted from a lack of sleep. Although my eyes droop, I force myself to stand a bit straighter and smile at the twins. I mustn't look tired to them, otherwise they won't listen, fussing over me, and I need their utmost attention when I explain my idea- they, like me, have a tendency to think they know exactly what they're doing until the time comes when they actually have to do it, at which they'll completely forget or end up with a terrible improvisation.

The secluded booth is quite well-sized, with two velveteen soft-backed lounges and a delicate redwood table against the far wall, a large, creamy woollen circular rug on the floor, almost as soft as the bed in Quina's guest suite and an icebox in the corner filled with glasses and champagne. The magicked lantern rests on in the centre of the redwood table, making the room appear bluish and icy, even though the temperature is rather comfortable.

I notice Jackie passing Harriet a flute and send her a glare out of habit. She passes me one and I take it, hesitantly, before giving it back as Harriet takes a swig and spits it back into the glass in bitter disgust.

Jackie grins and downs the whole thing.

She then begins violently coughing as Harriet snorts. I smile at my sisters, and what our parents are missing out on. I do wish Xavier were here to laugh at them with me.

I don't dare close my eyelids for too long, afraid to fall asleep. Harriet comes up next to me and purses her lips as her light eyes examine my new features that possibly roughly resemble our godmother- my upturned nose, sharp cheekbones, raven black hair, golden skin, and angular eyes. Are my features lined with the age and wisdom I only remember her having? I can't tell from the reflection in her eyes, it's too murky, but I don't look odd, at least. I wonder if my sisters make the connection between our appearances. They haven't said anything. Although that could mean almost anything.

"Does it hurt?" She asks me, her legs now swinging in the empty air under the tabletop she perches on. Her lower back leans against the light, her Sabrina-style dress reflecting its shimmer across the space like millions of tiny sprouting flowers, moving when she moves. One flashes in my eye and makes me blink.

"No, it itches though. Tickles, even. Like a feather-light touch everywhere, at once." I tell Harriet quietly, too tired to truly bother with talking before moving to help Jackie move the rug to cover the splatter of alcohol on the floorboards. They both still eye me carefully, unused to the woman next to them.

They both sit, and we find comfort in the silence passed between us like the gentle hug of our father's embrace, without needing to say a word. It's nice- it's been such a long time- but in the silence, I feel my eyelids beginning to droop once more and remember that I must say what I need to in the time we have together. My stomach gurgles, causing Rhem to mumble in protest as she stirs from her sleep in my pocket.