How Dare You

Chapter 4

Precisely four years later it happened, and little I know at that time just what misery her existence would cast upon our family. Cinderella. 

"Mother, we were fine for years, and now suddenly you feel that we are in need of a father figure? You jest not" I stared into my mother's guilt filled eyes, my voice contentious with disbelieve. 

"Oh Drizella just give Marcus a chance! You'll come to adore him I'm sure!" The guilt in her eyes melted as something eles replaced it... something that was the cause of all this...love. Mother was in love. That's why she wanted to marry the duke, not because she felt we were in need of a father figure, but because she was in love. 

"We're not you mother" I retorted sharply. This felt like betrayal, no, this was betrayal. 

Mother flinched, clearly taken back, "Drizella!" she exclaimed angrily after a brief pause, "You've always been a good girl, so why are you being so oppose to this?? I'm not asking for much, just give him a chance and meet him! He has an 18 year old daughter... it'll do you good to be around other people your age you know!"

"I DON'T NEED ANYONE OTHER THAN SISTER!! And it is precisely because sister has always listened to everything you've said that you should now do the same for her!" Anastasia shouted, her voice laced with frustration and rage. 

"Not you too Anastasia! In all honesty it seems I've been to lenient on you ladies seeing as you dare to talk back to your mother now" 

In utter dismay, Anastasia and I stared blankly at each other, mother was never like this before... not before she met Marcus...

"Hah Duke Marcus must be real charming isn't he mother?" Anastasia said spitefully, her lips stretching into a scornful smile that reflected the extent of how ludicrous she believed this was, "Why? Is father not enough for you?"

"Your father is dead" My mother stated sternly. 

The very second those words left my mother's mouth, a dangerous presure downed upon the air, slaughtering any sound or movement. Anastasia's eyes transformed into a cold glare, and I could tell that mine did too. 
Regret instantly found its way to my mother's lovesick heart, seizing and twisting  it in a painful grip, "A-ah, I d-didn't-" 

"Our father?? I'll remind you that he was your husband too Duchess,"  Mother's quiet gasp was echoed by Anastasia's amused scoff, and from that I knew they understood exactly why I called my mother whom was a baroness a duchess. "Anastasia, let us let ourselves out" I said, remaining the same tone that I had throughout the whole conversation, calm, flat, cold, sophisticated, collected. For no matter how little, I was a noble, therefore it is my duty to act as so, no matter what. 
I gave a slight curtsy before turning around swiftly towards the door, and I could hear Anastasia follow my example. 

"Sister, I wish I was like you"

I turned my head slightly to face Anastasia, "How so?"

"I shouldn't have yelled at mother... it wasn't very... ladylike..." Anastasia muttered, her head down in shame, and her face red in embarrassment. 

"...Anastasia, as long as our heads are on our necks we must hold it high"

At that, Anastasia straightened her back and looked up, meeting my eyes, "You can't even tell that I'm a noble, one would think that I were a commoner if not told otherwise..." she pouted, but her eyes showed something much deeper... this without a doubt must have been bothering her for a quite while. 

"You shouldn't be worrying about such things dear sister, afterall I doubt there will ever come a time when our etiquette is tested, we are only barons" I chuckled 

"But still..." 

Our footsteps had reached a stop, and I could feel my gaze slowly drifting towards the setting sun that painted the sky in the sweetest orange and the clouds in the brightest pink... and naturally beneath the sky and clouds and falling sun was the cold, dead ocean. 

"One can not do much but keep walking"

It was only a matter of time before we found ourselves home again, for the streets were not kind to young girls such as Anastasia and I. It was obvious what we were both thinking; How should we act when we see mother?

"How much do you think mother loves him?" Anastasia said in barely a whisper, as a breeze escaped from the ocean and caressed a strand of hair from her face.  

"Enough to change her completely," I answered bitterly

The rest of the way we walked in silence, it was a peaceful yet nerve wrecking sort of silence, and it immediately crumbled into pure dread when the door of our house was before us. I had never once thought that I would harbor such emotions from the sight of our home... if home is where the heart belongs then I wonder why my heart is pounding so heavily against my chest in desperate attempts to flee.  

The chilling creaking of the door demolished any hopes in concealing our presence, then again if not the door our footsteps would've done the same. I remember how bright this house use to be, and wherever that light went I hope it come back soon. Somehow it felt colder, emptier, hollow in a way... which was strange considering the face that nothing physical had truely changed. 
It didn't take long for us to realize that all our worries about how to face mother was in vain, for when we made our way up stairs and saw the tightly shut door of our mother's room, we knew she was behind it. Somehow even the wooden door seemed to be testing my patience, the way it stood ever so still, the way it towered over my head, and the way that it stared down at me with such conceit. I'd like to think that it was the reason my fingers curled into tight fists, the reason my nails dug into the palms of my hands drawing blood that burned with my fury... except it wasn't. Because I was mad at mother, and I was infuriated at Duke Marcus.