The Curse of Eternity

Death Sixteen

Beginning the day Myorla and Ceres dress me in an elaborate gown the shade of a peacock and embroidered with matching feathers. The cerulean shimmers brightly and I hope no servant will be blinded. The sleeves contain long, flowing ends which stop at my elbows. The fan when I walk.

I didn't believe Ceres when she proclaimed the gloves are beautiful. I have to use gloves to touch the world and they get dirty.

Ceres pulls a long, rectangular beige box tied with a red ribbon from the air. Myorla unties the ribbon and reveals the gloves. They are fingerless and crocheted in the finest thread of flowers, vines, and argyle patterns.

"Lord Jerrath made designed and made these! Ceres exclaims.

"Ceres are you serious!" Myorla cries in mortification, "What will Lord Jerrath do when he comes to discover the betrayal of your contract?"

"He will do nothing," Ceres proclaims. "Oh Myorla, even after a century and a half you have not grasped the mind of Lord Jerrath."

"Shhhhhh," Ceres hushes, placing her forefinger to her lips, "Indoor voice please or he will hear you. Lord Jerrath has ears like a bat. He hears everything."

"So he does," Myorla retorts dryly, "I can giggle like a Moki and wonder if my hair is bright."

"My hair is brighter."

"You are too serious Myorla. Life is too long to be so dull."

"Life is too long for us to be so ignorant," Myorla says in the same monotone.

"That hurt Myorla right here," Ceres points to her right forearm.

"Really Ceres? Your forearm?"

"Well, my right pinky toe to be exact."

Myorla gives a short, staccato laugh sounding like the bark of a Lupina.

"All right!" Myorla raises her hands in mock surrender, "I admit it is quite funny to see Lord Jerrath in such a position."

"Quiet funny? Oh my Dyu's, it will be hilarious!"

"Do not push it. Can we please continue with our business? We have a full day and you do not help when you stand like a virgin kissed for the first time."

"You are such a needle."

"Someone has to be."

"As I have said, veils and gloves are Lord Jerrath's designs," Ceres repeats.

Myorla and Ceres quickly pull off my hood and comb my tussled hair.

"W-What are you d-do-doing?"

"We are braiding your hair," they reply in unison.

"Th-there is no p-p-p-point. I w-w-wear a h-hood."

"You should look your best. The veil will be fine for normal excursions about the manor. Furthermore, you will not be using such a covering for a while."

My heart feels like a horin is breaking through my ribs.

"W-W-What do you mean? I-I-I ask f-for a-a hood!"

"Yes you did and you will receive plenty in time but they are part of your outing attire. As I said before, The veil will do fine for your daily business about the manor."

I hold the dainty crocheted fabric they deposit in my lap, it simmers like my dress. Maybe it is meant to blind and force people to look away. I think not. The veil is the same crocheted pattern as my fingerless gloves and exposes more skin than it hides. How can the minuscule piece of fabric do anything? I scarcely believe it covers my eyes but what of the rest of my face? How will it stay on my face? It has a long braided cord attached to either end. This veil could not protect innocents if they happen to catch my gaze. I would kill them all.