The Blood of my Mate

A decade of Croswin celebrations. Ten years of peace we celebrated every 32nd moon. Daytime bustling in the markets selling service lamps for the festival after sundown. The castle tents get deliveries of dragon scaled lamps every year. That's like a significant symbol in the air to start the festiva—the royals. “Your procession dress is at the irons Mayura. Make sure you collect it later.” Aunt Frenna informed me. So said procession was in the half of the sand turn. “For the love of the Kryps Aunt, why would you even bother to tell it now. My hair looks impossible and Kettahat is in attendance!” Aunt Frenna swished one hand in the air and the curtains of the porte and ferete fell down. Chaos management was her memento. It was still a mystery how the memento skipped one family member and chose another in the hierarchy. She was in a hurry too, being the Consort Queen’s sister came with a huge fill out of luxuries and also an abundance of responsibilities. The sand kept slipping too fast as the hour of procession approached. “The princess has her eyes on that fine man. Steer off while you can.” Everyone knew I was going to do anything but clear the coast for the princess. When the war of serpents and alchemy happened we were all children. Children who were cousins and under the survival protection of the royal elite in Hoovay Isles. Those five years was where the ultimate competition started between us. I would have my claim on one thing and the next sand slip the princess would abuse her power. From table seating (before we won the war), to wanting Ferno as the only instructor for defense training, to fighting for the gown color for brunch. And now at almost half a quarter age, handsome men. “Behave yourself today, and make sure to not leave anywhere before the gongs.” I rolled my eyes and rushed out towards the west hall. As I passed the flower gardens, which by the way were almost withering in the harshness of snowy evenings. I did accentuate that they were summer flowers but the princess was on a mission to prove me wrong. One's strong perseverance can withstand every reality - a testament remains unproven until now seeing the state of the flowers. “My lady, where are you running off to? I will get your gown!” Rachel ran behind me. God knows from which tunnel she emerged, last I checked she was still out of my notice area. “Rachel I am pretty sure you get commissions from Audrey to annoy me every time.” I heard a sudden thud and halted, only to see Rachel kneeling down on the dirty walk way. Which was being unusually filled with servants and attendees passing by. As if everyone had something important they could not miss. “For the love of my, get up before I acquire a new witch title for bullying my attendee.” I said and turned back to walk for the irons. Lady Gerrata was known for her infamous pieces which will make women go from maiden to hidden lain. So, no doubt I wanted my dress from hers to impress Kettahat. “Life is all about important timing. How sad you missed your teal.” Audrey, looking less like a princess and more like my hipsie nemises, uttered as soon as I reached for the porte of the seamstress room (irons). “How lovely, both the beauties here!” Gerrata clapped her hands before I could chew out Audrey. “Miss Gerrata, thank you for your services to the crown.” Audrey sweet poisoned her compliment and that's when I saw Tara holding my teal gown. Unlike Rachel, Tara was the childe of an angel who was a true confidant to Audrey. Ignoring Audrey's sweet talks I proceeded to pull my dress, which had the most beautiful ribbon accentuated to the waist(supposedly a lucid element for Kettahat to pull it open very easily) which Tara held tightly and jolted herself three steps back. “It's mine. Give it to me.” I barked and grabbed the attention of everyone present in. “Mayura, my beloved, the royal astrologer informed this morning that teal will bring me immense luck today. Now, would you not want to sacrifice one dill gown for the stance of the kingdom?” I raised my eyebrows at her lies. Being craned with the memento of the third eye she is the last person who will believe in astrological predictions. “I think the blood of Yehites keeps demanding sacrifices. Give a finger and they pull out a hand along with the limbs.” I taunted her with the reminder of the day. As much as Croswin was a day to celebrate victory, peace and harmony. It also was the day we lost one last line of defence, the three thousand martrys brought us this. The heaviest exchange for me to lose both my parents in them. “Then be born as the princess next time, cousin. I dare you to take what is mine.” Were her parting words as the reminders of Tara’s heavily scented perfume trotted the air. “That was intense, my lady.” Rachel finally spoke after a few seconds. “Show me the dress.” My sour tone was quite evident as I spoke to Miss Garreta. She did not show the indifference of it on her face. Instead she smiled and went inside another section of hanged gowns with attachable bell hands, and pushed the crate of one magnimous gown. A gasp left my throat. So did Rachel's. “She is a fool to chose the teal over this!” I protested to no one in particular. “Your similar body measurements have saved my daylight child.” Miss Garreta spoke and I could hear the relief in her tone. Somehow that improved my mood. It was made of magenta frills on the skirt and the bodice had lines and lines of golden flax. “The psirila himself will fall on his knees if he sees you in this!” Rachel exclaimed, also examining the dress in closer detail while I did the same with running my fingers on the smooth lines of the skirt. Miss Garreta let out a sharp hiss of disapproval. That made me realise Rachel was stupid enough to mention psirila on a day we beat him. The vipers were supposedly the most beautiful people to ever exist. It was said that lines of hue always aligned their outline of the body frame, like the shine of the moon in the reflection of the lakes. Among them psirila the viper king was the most described for. Until today even with the risk of dungeon punishment and gold penalties some artists chose to paint him and sell in the blanc market. Then again, it's been a decade and no one alive here has probably ever come face to face with the viper king before the war ended. So all of it remains is a myth of what people want to believe he looks like. The most controversial out of every feature are the shape of his eyes. Some say it was an almond latched into the seas of drowning. While others strongly argue that it were more like a galaxy made of hot burning sun. “Croswin celebrations do not need the reminders of the brute ugliness of the vipers.” Miss Garreta told Rachel and she nodded back like a rabbit caught in a snare. “Yes. Now only if we could find a real scarf to add.” I pulled both of them back to my main issue on hand. The procession was very much ready to start. And Aunt Ferra will be behead me with her chopsticks if possible. And I had a man to impress. “How about we add a teal pearl line instead?” Miss Garreta hurriedly suggested in danger of her art being ruined with the wrong choice of scarf. “Too invisible.” “How about a brooch?” “Too openly flirting.” “An accessory?” “Then I will end up becoming the accessory of his life.” “How about gloves?” Rachel cut in and for once made more sense than she ever made in the past year. “Sounds perfect!” I echoed and gave no room for discussion to Miss Garreta. And only after a few hours into the procession cart, waving at the crowd along with Audrey, I wished I had let Miss Garreta add the pearl line instead of these stupid teal gloves. They looked like snow lay in the midst of the autumn play. And Kettahat snorted the moment he saw my hands.