Davina

Chapter Nine

Davina's POV

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Another year, another ball.

I'm currently standing in front of a large, rectangular mirror with an antique silver frame. The mirror's huge, but it still doesn't reach my ridiculously tall ceiling.

The dress I chose for the ball tonight is a strapless red one that has roses outlining the bottom of the skirt that touches the floor, hiding the gold heels I have on.

I'm not entirely looking forward to tonight, considering my brother, who was also my best friend, just died and I'm still mourning, and the ball is boring every year, no offence to my great-grandmother whose death anniversary we're celebrating.

"Hey, sis," Adrian says, stepping into my bedroom doorway with both hands in his pockets, already dressed in a black tux.

"Hey, Adrian," I say back. "What's up?"

"Nothing," he shrugs. "Just checking if you were ready since we're leaving soon. You look great, by the way."

"Thanks," I nod. "You too."

He puts on a warm smile then purses his lips together, furrowing his eyebrows and looking at the floor. He wants to say something.

"And um," he starts. "I just wanted to say sorry. For not making Yuri's death seem like a big deal." Wow, an apology. "I loved him, and I know you did too."

"I did," I nod. "And you don't need to say sorry, I know you two weren't close." I say, turning my head and look at the mirror, adjusting my dress in some areas.

"Yeah," he nervously chuckles, scratching his tilted head. "We weren't the closest, and I know dad's pride in me was hard on him," I make eye contact with him in the mirror as I fix my hair, "for both of you," he corrects himself. A small period of silence occurs until Adrian starts talking again. "And um, I really need to get this out, I'm obviously not going to say it to Dad 'cause he'd think I'm weak—"

I cut him off with a scoff. He looks at me, confused, eyebrows in a deep furrow.

"Huh?" he says, waiting for an answer.

"Is that all you care about?" I ask him, raising my voice slightly.

"I'm so confu—"

"Our brother just died, and you want to pour your heart out, but you're scared to do it in front of your dad because you don't want to look weak? Is being the favorite child that important to you?!"

We both look at each other, holding eye contact, both with very different looks on our faces. Mine, angry and murderous. Adrian's, confused and lost.

"Just get out, Adrian. I'm not having the best week."

He purses his lips together and nods, keeping his eyebrows in a deep furrow. I sigh in exhaustion of everything that's going on. Failing an easy mission, losing my brother, attending the same goddamn ball every year for my great-grandmother's death, taking my anger out on Adrian, the only brother I have left, and the only living family member I have that might still have some care for me, because clearly my dad doesn't.

I give myself one last look up and down in the mirror, then head out of my room.

This is going to be a long night.

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"Well no, because as I said, we'll hav-" my dad whispers to Adrian on the first floor, not knowing I'm coming down the stairs. "Davina," he says. "I didn't see you there."