"I like this color on you," Daphne said, smearing violently red lipstick on her. "Mhh!" She hummed, rubbing her lips together to imply Astoria do the same. She did, the chalky consistency making her mouth go dry.
"There," she said, turning her sister to look in the mirror of the vanity. She half smiled, not nearly as enthused by the final product as Daphne was.
A soft knock on the open door caused both their gazes to shift. Their mother stood, smiling limply at them in the doorway, and made her way into the room.
Without much warning other than a wary sigh, she revealed a simple, glittering ring in her palm.
"I didn't like how that Flint boy was eyeing you the last time. . ." she said, flipping the silver band over in her palm.
"If anyone asks, you're engaged to a Bulgarian whom you met on his travels to England. The engagement is recent, and he is over in his country until the wedding."
Astoria stared at her blankly, then said, "Mother, that's -- but that doesn't make any sense --"
"Yes, it does," she said curtly.
"But, don't you think people will question it when the wedding never rolls aro --"
"Don't argue with me, and do as you're told," she snapped back. She took in a long breath, composing herself, and slipped the ring on her daughter's left finger. "Please Astoria, could you just -- please."
Astoria nodded, staring down at the lie on her hand. Her mother sighed again, and said, "Be ready to leave in a few minutes." She was halfway through the door when she turned back and said, "Oh, and Daphne, please take some of that God awful lipstick off your sister."
She nodded, taking a tissue to Astoria's mouth without making direct eye contact.
A few moments after their mother had left the room, Daphne turned and said, in her most soothing voice possible, "Come on, it's not so bad -- at least the ring is pretty. . . ."
"Hm," she mumbled, not really listening to her. She was too busy grimacing down at the blasted thing.
Daphne took her other hand, her eyes boring deep into Astoria's. There it was, prying the air between them, forming in her mouth. She was going to say something, something that might have been meaningful, or might have been rubbish; but Astoria would never know, for the thought dissolved in her eyes.
She stood, her old self again.
When would she ever just talk? Just say something real and mean it for once?
Brushing off her deep green gown, with golden, glittering feathers cascading down the left side of the bodice and trailing down the skirt, Daphne sighed. "Come on. We'd better be going."
"Yeah," Astoria muttered, raming the ring farther down her knuckle.