𝙂𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙠 𝙏𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙𝙮

17.

17. Brokenhearted fools
Only - RY X

The emptiness of the hallways around me seemed like they were mocking me, like they knew something I didn't. I was unsettled by the fact that my footsteps were louder than the dinner happening right down the hall. At least the walls weren't blank.

Upon the ceaseless halls hung paintings, some with nude women, some holding watering pots or teacups. Some paintings were of fruits, of people dancing under the castle lights, under the moon. A few sculptures lined the walls as well, sitting on lone tables, on top of white tablecloths. I find myself slowing my pace to really see the art.

I forget myself, remembering I was trying to find my sister. I heard a door echo from a head in the hall, the pale walls snickering at me as I run through them, heels clicking as I slow to the door that caused the ruckus. It was to the gardens, and in the middle of the many flowers and plants, I see my sister, staring at the moon.

I remember last night's events, Technoblade's hand on my neck, his eyes on my lips, desire dripping from his tongue. I can still feel him undoing the flowers in my hair, the shivers that went down my spine at his touch. Like fire, like warmth in the snow. Like a world I so desperately want to indulge in. His touch on my neck, on my back when we danced, his breath hot on my neck, it's like I was reliving it at that moment.

Opening the glass doors to the garden, the fresh smell of water hits my senses like a fresh breeze, the smell of the flowers mixing together to form a complex potion of smells. I see Elera sitting on one of the stone benches next to the statue Techno and I admired last night, seeing the vines intertwined with the structure, with the cracks. I see tears shine in my elder sister's eyes and feel my heart aching with her.

I have never seen Elera cry.

"I hoped you will never feel the way I do at this moment, dear sister." She says, her voice like honey. Taken notice of my presence in the space, she wipes her eyes, smearing the eyeliner slightly. Her tears were not of waterfalls or raindrops, they were like a mist, a single sprinkle from her perfect eyes. She was always the beautiful sister, The heir to the throne.

"What do you mean?" I whisper, sitting beside my sister, taking her soft hands into mine, hands slightly worn from the years of holding book pages and quills. She smiles sadly, heart showing in her eyes. "What did they say to you to make you this way, my sweet sister?"

"You needn't worry about it (Y/n), it shouldn't be your problem." Her voice is shaky, a bare whisper against the room around us. "It's my burden."

From the way she smiles to try to run away the tears, to the way she grips my hands so tightly, to the way her breath is erratic, I know there is something wrong. I have never seen my sister cry, have never seen her raise her voice, have a hair out of place, a smile not on her face. I have never seen my sister without a book in her hand, a tiara on her brow, a perfectly pressed dress and the most flawless makeup. I have never seen my sister walk out of a room with tears in her eyes.

I have never seen my sister look so defeated.

"Elera please, don't barricade yourself. Let me help you," I wipe a tear, holding her cheek tenderly. "I can't stand to see you this way."

"Unless you wish to take the throne, you cannot help me." She turns away from me, sniffling as she stares at the rising moon. The second ball would be starting soon, very soon. I could hear servants bustling about in the hall just behind the glass door. I could hear the orchestra practicing their numbers.

"What ever could you mean?" She just shakes her head, lowering her chin to hide her features. My sister and I shared many of our mother qualities, however, I have never seen my sister look so much like mother before.

"Father and King Alford have both agreed that I have been of the age to marry for years, and that it was time the two kingdoms were united through blood." She starts, voice low, cold. Hateful. "They plan to make the announcement later tonight; the wedding will be at the end of the celebration."

My mind is racing, heart pounding. United in blood? We were at peace, there were no conflicts between our kingdoms, haven't been for years, why would they need a marriage to unite the kingdoms. Who would Elera have to marry?

It hits me slowly when Elera looks back into my eyes, her hate and anger and sadness evident in her eyes. The King and Queen of Tartarus only have one living son, one living child. My face pales when I come to the realization. I gasp, my hand to my mouth, eyes blown hide.

Oh Leon..

Elera looks away again, sneering at the ground. "You have to marry Azriel." I cannot imagine the pain of my brother, my sister. I always knew that one day she would marry, she knew as well, but we always assumed she would be able to choose. That she could fall in love with her prince charming and live happily for the rest of her life. Now, she has to marry someone who loves another. Not just another person, our fucking brother.

"Oh Elera." I bring her into a hug, holding her close as she sobs, as she lets that perfect facade fall and her true colors come to the surface.

I always say my sister as dull, a textbook princess and heir. She was perfect and monotoned, but as she sobs in my arms, face buried in the crook of my neck, I see she was never monotoned and gray. My sister was as colorful as the flowers that surrounded us.

She was as purple as the peony, orange and the tiger lily, yellow as a sunflower. She was blue like a forget-me-not, green as the vines that snaked through the garden statues. My sister was a rainbow, conditioned into being a rain cloud. As first born, she was tutored privately, told differently than Leon and I. She was punished for being the eldest, for being named Heir to the Throne in Polis. Her duty was to be as perfect as possible, as selfless as possible.

I have never seen my sister cry, and then I realize, I have never seen my sister.

I have only ever seen Elera the Crowned Heir to Polis.

May. 1

my poor Elera :(