Heart

Chapter 6

In the town of Saint Rochelle (Lily):

Mira's townhouse was crumbling, chunks of white stone gouged from columns. The curling iron railings leading up to the door were dull and covered in bird droppings. She had said it was in the Greek style, all Corinthian columns. The too casual hand gesture and smug air had annoyed me but it had been glorious. The structured elegant carvings, the windows positioned for light. I was a village girl welcomed to a palace, surrounded by vines of perfectly curled iron. Her servant had noticed my look of wonder and sneered. How uncultured, how uncouth, with my tired clothes and ignorance.

Now it was covered in shit and ruined.

Anthus perched on the railing and stuck his crow nose up in the air.

"I know you don't like houses," I said, turning to him. "But I have to know if she's alive or not."

Anthus blinked once, an admission that he would put up with it for now.

I placed my hand on the dark wood of the door, untouched by brutality. I had come in and out of this door for months, trembling and then transforming. Into what I thought was ladylike. I had no idea that I hadn't changed at all.

I turned the handle, the cool metal bringing me back to the present.

The door swung open and I entered the foyer. It was as if a storm had swept in and turned everything upside down. The place was bare; the priceless vases and paintings gone. The pristine white floor was dirty and unkempt. The sweeping staircase was chipped and unpolished. Clearly the servants hadn't survived or stuck around. The mirror to the left was cracked and my face looked distorted when I glanced into it. Anthus flew in and I looked upwards.

"Mira!" I shouted. It felt wrong somehow, to disturb the silence. I raced up the staircase, my feet too loud and quick.

I could imagine her chastising me for walking like that.

"You need to be elegant," she said and forced me to walk again. As if I didn't know how to walk.

The upstairs was quiet too, eerily so. But as I approached Mira's room, I heard the faint rumble of voices.

"...we need.....hidden...rebel..." I went still and listened, wondering who was in there. My hand strayed to my sword hilt.

I moved like a cat but I wasn't quiet enough. Mira's bedroom door flew open with a bang.

I jumped backwards, half unsheathing my sword. A man stood there, his dark hair covering a face marked by scars. Beside him stood my all conquering cousin, the ultimate lady.

"Mira." She stared blankly at me.

"Lily," she whispered, her hand resting on her throat. I took a long look at her and couldn't believe it.

She was ragged and her hair was a bird's nest. The expensive hair pins were gone, probably stolen by greedy soldiers. Faint bruises marked her arms, as if someone had grabbed her. Her eyes were as hard as ever, glittering coldly. The dress she wore was probably beautiful once but now the midnight blue was reduced to a dishrag, bathed in dirt.

"You're alive," she said, her eyes widening.

"Obviously." Anthus landed on my shoulder with an irritated caw. The scarred man glowered at me, tensing. Mira placed a hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright, Jean. It's my niece, Lily. She could be an asset."

He regarded me warily as if assessing my worth. His eyes strayed to Anthus. If he tried to eat him, I might have something to say about it.