3 | A Sister's Change

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Yorkshire, England
May 18, 1471

"Happy birthday, my beauties!" Father greets happily, his face a glad glow toward Anne and I.

We are now twelve years old. We curtsy to our father, our heads bowed down low to have his blessing. He and Mother touch our copper heads with their palms, and they give a prayer for us, then they release us and we slowly get up, our face beaming brightly. Mother spreads her arms and hands in a wide gesture.

"Come here, my darlings," she says, smiling. We come into her arms and she wraps us in a sweet embrace, rocking my us gently. "You're both glowing beauties, and I cannot be more proud to be your mother," she whispers in our ear. Anne laughs in delight, and I tighten my embrace around Mother's slim waist, inhaling her sweet fragrance of lavender and rosemary.

"I thank you, Mother," I mutter, looking up at her beautiful face. Anne nods in agreement, and I let go and turn to Father, who is standing beside Mother. "I thank you, Father. To both of you."

He kneels down, the large giant he is, and is now facing me, eye-to-eye. He grins and weaves his fingers into my silky, titian mane. He looks into my eyes and then cups my small face into his big hands, kissing me full on the lips, just a quick peck. I laugh and he nuzzles my nose. "Ah, Venise. I shall now give you your present, my sweet poppet."

"Me too, Father!" Anne exclaims, her face contorted in fury, though she is now calmer as she sees Father barking a laugh and coming near her, doing the same as he did to me. Methinks Anne is jealous, though I cannot be sure. She hides her expressions well. Father kissed her on the lips, but he did not cup her face in his hands nor did he call her his sweet poppet or his Anne. I raise my brows at that, but continue to look at them. He stares at my beaming beautiful sister, and I see him give a little frown at her, though he smiles warmly in an instant. Maybe he read something in her mind, but I am not positive about my thought.

Mother calls for a page to get the gifts, and she touches my shoulder as she walks by, taking Father's arm for a moment as they begin to talk, their eyes on each other, facing the window of the solar room, their backs on us. I walk toward Anne, looping my hand through hers.

"What say you, sister? 'Tis a special day! I am right glad." I smile at her.

She looks at me, her dark eyes flashing, black and white flecks flaring. "How come Father calls you his poppet all the time, though not to me?" she demands in a low hiss.

I stare at her and blink. "I...don't know, Anne. But we are equal in his love for us, so you need not worry," I assure her calmly.

She pouts and nods. "Oh aye, dear sister; but I must confess that 'tis not fair he always gives you attention more than I. I admit I was jealous when he kissed and held you gladly a moment ago." I squeeze her hand gently, searching her eyes squarely. She grins. "Not to worry! I am all right now. Though 'tis a relief that I told you this feeling of mine toward you and Father."

"I am happy you told me this." Someone knocks on the door and a page enters the solar and bows down to all of us. He comes near and puts down the presents to us, and two more servants come in bearing other gifts. Anne squeals in delight, while I giggle. The page bows down again to us, and he looks at me for a moment, our eyes meeting. He is a handsome boy for a servant, and I start to blush. He smirks, winks, and retreats, going back outside along with the other servants.

Father, Mother, and Anne did not seem to notice what the page did to me, but my heart is beating quite a bit, and my legs are shaking with delight. It is awkward.

"Go ahead, open them," Mother urges us. Anne and I kneel down on the smooth wooden floor and we open the presents wrapped in brown paper with a pink ribbon and an aquamarine one. Pink for Anne; aquamarine for me. We gather the gifts belonging to us, and Anne begins to open hers.

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