Her feet touched the floor, cold still, and she shivered in the thinness of her nightgown. As always, she paused, waiting to see if her roommates would stir. They never did. Aurelie rose and crossed the room. There was a basin with a mirror above it, small and blurred, with tepid water she would refill. A small thing she did for all three of them, and always had. There was a gas lamp on the wall nearby, which she turned on.
In the flickering yellow light, Aurelie examined her dim reflection. Twenty-one. Rough hands came to touch a freckled cheek. Less full, she thought, then they had been. She had, perhaps, lost some weight. It was hard to tell. Nothing fit her to begin with, not really. Aurelie frowned, watching the pull of muscles. Then she smiled, and she couldn’t hold it for long. Bared her teeth, running her tongue over the top set. Straight, but not remarkably so. Lucky in her genetics, at least in this. An unremarkable nose, freckles that had paled over the winter but never left, a pointed chin. All features familiar and average. After a moment more, she turned away, unsure of what she had been looking for.
Later, Ana had promised to visit. To spend time with Aurelie, because it was her birthday. That was something she turned over, around and around, inside of her head. Aurelie would never have asked; after all these years, spending her birthday alone was almost a ritual. She couldn’t remember the last time she had spent it otherwise. Even before she knew what she was, Ana had been in school and her parents… Her hand came to touch the locket at her throat.
That was later; now, there was work. Always, there was work. Some she cherished and much she did not, but all of it kept her busy. Aurelie let it fill her muscles and her mind. Twenty-one. Eleven years; longer here, now, than outside. Certainly more of it that she could remember. Something caught in her heart and it twisted.
She shouldn’t have put that in her letter to Aremu; she regretted it the moment she had handed the envelope over. No, before--the moment she had set it to paper. To rewrite the whole thing, to begin again, felt dishonest. Aurelie remembered the way her friend had spoken of lying and she couldn’t bear to do it. But the anxiety remained, and it gnawed at her.
Still, she smiled. She laughed when one of the scullery girls told a joke, though it wasn’t funny--she just knew how it felt to joke and have nobody laugh. The girl was only twelve, though tall for her age. Taller than Aurelie, which was not much of an accomplishment. Aurelie looked at her bright, eager face, still so soft with childhood, and something in her ached.
She had finished cooking for the lunch service when Ana came. For a moment all activity in the kitchen halted, a strange kind of quiet settling over the normally-loud room. All eyes were fixed there at the fine figure in the doorway. Her sister, her Ana, beautiful and resplendent. She issued a brisk command to an older woman, easily ten years or more her sister’s senior, and the woman obeyed her without a second thought. That ached, too. Aurelie moved to her sister’s side before the other passive had reached her, knowing what Ana wanted.
”Ana! I was just finishing the lunch service, I--oof!” Aurelie found herself swept up in a hug, shocking in its ferocity. Ana smelled of candied violets; Aurelie had always loved candied violets. Aurelie closed her eyes and thought of a place that had been home and never would be again. Of ornamental ponds and ivy. Echoing empty halls, filled mostly with the soft sounds of servants and the quiet footsteps of one little girl. The picture was dim and distant. It grew more so every year. One day, she knew, it would leave her forever. And then there would be only Brunnhold.
“Happy birthday, Birdie,” Ana’s voice whispered in her ear, sweet and fierce. Aurelie’s breath caught in her chest. But no, it was just the strength of her sister’s grip. Ana released her and Aurelie found a gentle smile easily enough. She looked at Ana’s beautiful face, she felt her diamond-bright field, and that ached too. Aurelie didn’t quite know why. Soft fingers touched her hair and cheek in a brief and gentle caress. There were, Aurelie thought, signs of strain around Ana’s golden eyes that had not been there before.
They moved from the kitchen, Aurelie doing her best to wipe her hands and removing her pinafore. She couldn’t help but feel a small and grubby thing next to her sister, under the weight of all that Perceptive brightness. Even though she knew, now, that she was not empty--but the quiet of what surrounded her was drowned out, and Aurelie with it. And maybe that’s what she wanted, after all. To be lost. To know her sister’s love, and to be swept clean by it.