Jessamine!
“So what happened to the Caduceus is dangerous, Lina?” You clench your hand into a fist. You want to pull her down and give her a noogie until she stops being silly. Unfortunately, while she’s holding that, she might, oh, turn your hands into pillows or something. “Look at yourself! You are this close to becoming the next Wicked Queen!”
She really does. She has the helpless princess purring in her clutches, the flowing gown, the impossible beauty and the dangerous fragility of her happiness. Your sister is this close to losing herself to the story, and you won’t let that happen! You can’t!
“Put it down, or I’ll make you put it down!”
***
Dandy!
It’s hard to say whether the words echoing in your head or the dragon nuzzling your shoulder bring you back to yourself. Maybe it’s both, it was always both. You groan and squeeze your eyes shut tighter, too exhausted to look. Nope, not going to look.
But self-deception and blindness are ultimately disguises that we drape upon the truth in order to avoid it. What kind of princess runs away from the truth of her self? The silly kind, is what. With a groan, you sit up, your wet hair flopping into your face. Ack. Plfft.
On the one hand, Alina’s going mad with power, but if she won’t listen to her sister, she most definitely won’t listen to you, and that’s not what Adila’s hoping you’ll fix. No, it isn’t. She wants you to save her namesake and the wicked queen herself.
A princess’s work is never done.
You wade over to them through the rain and kneel beside the two, to listen, to offer a helping word when it is needed.
***
Adila I!
“You abandoned me! You betrayed me, locked me away, and you stopped caring about your responsibility when I won your war! And all I wanted was... you said we were supposed to win the war... save Hyperborea... I believed in you, Addy...”
Her voice is thick and choked with tears. The Felorian hands her a hyacinth-patterned handkerchief and Euphie loudly blows her nose for an exceedingly long time. The Felorian pats Euphie on the back, making noises as if soothing a horse, and then looks at you with eyes like glittering stones.
“I think Eupheria’s owed your thoughts from the heart, ma’am,” the Felorian says, with the gentleness of earth trickling down onto your tomb. “Tell her what you should have told her back then.”
“So what happened to the Caduceus is dangerous, Lina?” You clench your hand into a fist. You want to pull her down and give her a noogie until she stops being silly. Unfortunately, while she’s holding that, she might, oh, turn your hands into pillows or something. “Look at yourself! You are this close to becoming the next Wicked Queen!”
She really does. She has the helpless princess purring in her clutches, the flowing gown, the impossible beauty and the dangerous fragility of her happiness. Your sister is this close to losing herself to the story, and you won’t let that happen! You can’t!
“Put it down, or I’ll make you put it down!”
***
Dandy!
It’s hard to say whether the words echoing in your head or the dragon nuzzling your shoulder bring you back to yourself. Maybe it’s both, it was always both. You groan and squeeze your eyes shut tighter, too exhausted to look. Nope, not going to look.
But self-deception and blindness are ultimately disguises that we drape upon the truth in order to avoid it. What kind of princess runs away from the truth of her self? The silly kind, is what. With a groan, you sit up, your wet hair flopping into your face. Ack. Plfft.
On the one hand, Alina’s going mad with power, but if she won’t listen to her sister, she most definitely won’t listen to you, and that’s not what Adila’s hoping you’ll fix. No, it isn’t. She wants you to save her namesake and the wicked queen herself.
A princess’s work is never done.
You wade over to them through the rain and kneel beside the two, to listen, to offer a helping word when it is needed.
***
Adila I!
“You abandoned me! You betrayed me, locked me away, and you stopped caring about your responsibility when I won your war! And all I wanted was... you said we were supposed to win the war... save Hyperborea... I believed in you, Addy...”
Her voice is thick and choked with tears. The Felorian hands her a hyacinth-patterned handkerchief and Euphie loudly blows her nose for an exceedingly long time. The Felorian pats Euphie on the back, making noises as if soothing a horse, and then looks at you with eyes like glittering stones.
“I think Eupheria’s owed your thoughts from the heart, ma’am,” the Felorian says, with the gentleness of earth trickling down onto your tomb. “Tell her what you should have told her back then.”