Seven Deadly Sons

Melanie. (26)

The ceiling is domed.

That's the first thing I see when I open my sore eyes the day after the ball, the first and very last I will ever attend. I have no desire to see another.

In the morning, the dome lights up with the light which spills craftily from behind the huge curtains, shooting up and over the space.

I suppose I never noticed before because, well, why would I ever look up?

Stretching, I think about throwing the curtains and commanding it be a new day — but then I realise where I am, who I am, and precisely how unloved I am.

I also remember my trial is today.

Quite unlikely I can survive another witch trial but I can give it a bloody good go, surely?

Strolling over to my incredibly messy armoire, I pull out a set of red brogues with a white shirt slightly too oversized for me. I consider sitting down before my vanity to play with the makeup and hairbrush, but quickly think better of it.

Stumbling from my room with one hand half down my trousers to tame the endlessly long shirt, I admire the hallway and building I am to stay in - possibly not for much longer, true - in the cool quiet light of day. I don't see a single staff member, as I would have expected from a building of such calibre, and as I let my gaze wander I see the building has no wear and tear at all to note of.

This immediately leads me down the path of memory to my childhood, again, or lack thereof.

I met my mother last night.

She doesn't know me. Or perhaps, she just doesn't want me.

I try to take it on the chin, as I have with most things throughout my short life — often literally — but it's too hard. Turning away from the black well of sadness I imagine sits just inside my abdomen, I let my anger and resent back in.

"What are you thinking of?"

The voice behind my ear makes me jump so far out of my skin that Maddox has to gently push me off of him. Embarrassed, I give him a wide berth so he can walk beside me.

"Nothing". I state, "My trial is today, is it not?"

Troubled, I see Maddox frown briefly before his forehead smooths again and the emotions are again hidden. "Quite so. There have been some revelations, but considering the weight of your crimes I cannot imagine a change in the sentence."

"Revelations? Can you explain?" We're almost at the twisting staircase now, down to the stolen art or up to the ladies. Beyond that I suppose is where that atrium is. It's then that I notice my feet haven't been making any noise though the floor in marbled, this fact distracting me for some time whilst I watch the patterns form across the white expanse.

Forgetting that Maddox has failed yet to reply, I look up in question.

"Well?" I ask, his face was stoic as he continues to lead me at a punishing pace to the courtroom. We turn a corner, at the end a pair of ornately carved wooden doors come into view. They remind me of the doors from the front of this huge building. Was it days or weeks ago when I had arrived here?

Almost at the end of the corridor now, he finally deigns to reply to me.

"I am bound to not tell you." We both stop before the doors, the design of a winged man with arms spread in rapture so realistic, I wouldn't be entirely surprised if he jumped right off and started to laugh in the face of my misfortune.

"But, do not forget this -

No one is invincible. There is always a weakness in Afalon, and yours might just be your pessimism."

What was that supposed to mean? I open my mouth to ask but he's already moved to open the doors, and with a great gust of silence I'm left gaping at the open room filled with participants waiting to watch my demise.

Unnerved, I whisper; "If they bow I'm dead right? That's what happened to Gezêbia?" but Maddox has walked off to greet the cloaked man, what was his name? Svenin.

They greet each other briefly, then Maddox disappears off to the side where I see other well-dressed boys of a similar age and look waiting.

Sucking in what will probably be one of my few and final breaths, I stride the same way Maddox did over to the master of ceremonies. Unsure of what to do, and bowing clearly out of the question, I just stare at him.

"Go sit over there, girl."

Not wanting to prolong the awkward pressure I was feeling from so many eyes on me, I follow his finger over to a row of people sat on the floor, on a slightly lower platform back by the door I came from. Spotting my mother among them, I decide to make my way over regardless.

She stares straight forward, assessing the crowd, and I am shocked again at how strikingly similar we are; down to small features like freckle placement and hair length. Though she does style her own straight down whilst I more often braid. Better for reading cards.

"Do you really not remember me?" I whisper, leaning closer.

Unmoving, she says "Of course I do. You were at the ball yesterday."

"Yes, but... I am also your daughter. You're my mother, Lucretia." Maybe she's delusional? This place, her life in the time we have been apart may have changed her somewhat. Svenin begins placing chairs around the platform, eight in total.

She shakes her head slightly, whispering only, "Ameline."

Frowning and speaking openly, I say "Excuse me?" But mother dismisses me with a sharp wave and stares forward again, assessing.

I notice some of the others with us are looking between us with a mixture of expressions; from confusion to disbelief. I decide to follow her lead, especially when Maddox and the other princely brothers — Passion Ashervik and Envy Faustus among them — take their seats by age, followed by the King and Queen.

Once seated, they are all announced by the Master of Ceremonies, Svenin, much like they had been at the ball the previous night.