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BEING DIFFERENT in a family of sameness was an odd concept.
Everywhere she looked, Acacia saw blonde hair as pale as corn silk, eyes that ranged in colors from blue to green, full lips, slender noses and willowy figures. Her family even shared the same interests: sewing, gardening, swimming and practicing their various instruments. They had the same first letter in their names and all shared the last name of Harlow. They were even relatively the same size in height— including her mother, Angelonia. What made Acacia different, however, was the fact that she had a soulmate.
It was almost unheard of in their world for someone to have an Intended. Most Terebinthians found love the "old-fashioned" way by flirting with farm boys or nobles and finding their way by themselves. Having a predestined lover put her in a place of both awe and jealousy. Acacia had never much cared for the people's opinion of her, though, and mostly ignored it.
(She didn't miss the murmurs that Amaryllis, being the eldest, should have gotten a soulmate and not her— the youngest. Those whispers were the only ones she couldn't overlook.)
Her siblings, on their part, never showed what they truly thought of her being the one with a soulmate. When she'd been younger, they had picked on her a bit but had relented as she'd grown up, respecting her privacy in that regard (though they still didn't understand why the name read Peter since it wasn't any sort of flower that they knew.)
They fluttered around her now, most likely gossiping about the ball that Queen Susan was throwing to host any country that could come. Acacia sat silently in the middle of the chaos, watching her wheat-haired sisters whine to the eldest who was looking rather smug.
"You're so lucky that you get to go to a Narnian ball," Azalea, the second eldest sighed, "no one knows what Queen Susan's parties are like and you'll be the first to find out."
"I'm sure it will be quite boring," Amaryllis sniffed, "I doubt she knows the right food to prepare for us. After all, her kingdom is mostly made up of animals."
"Do you think they defecate in the throne room?" Amaranth asked with a giggle, her question immediately followed by squeals of disgust as Aconite swatted her sister with a nearby pillow.
"Don't be foul, Mar," came the chiding remark, "I'm sure they practice proper hygiene."
"I'm not," the eldest rolled her eyes, "though even if the party is a complete failure at least the kings will be nice to look at, or so I've heard."
