'ɪ ᴍᴀʏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴠɪᴘᴇʀ, ʙᴜᴛ ꜱᴀᴍꜱᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ꜱɴᴀᴋᴇ.'
Many eyed, venomous- House Viper are animosi, silver animal scryers, and controllers. They have their sigil and names for a reason. When Daliah Viper returns to her family after an unfortunate series of ba...
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Have you ever looked at someone and wanted to cut open their skin to crawl inside of it? To become them and be them? Or to turn yourself into the ground they walk? Just lying down and letting them do whatever they need to do in their godly grace and power.
Admiration is love. It's power. It's a gift for the powerful that calls for respect.
Admiration also goes hand in hand with stern love and inherited traits of beauty.
That is what I know with certainty now that I look at the slim back dressed in a green robe.
The clock clicks in the case, pointing at morning hours. Before breakfast or training.
I stand behind her. Her back is turned and I don't know if I like it. It means she trusts me. But the turned back makes me think about my parents.
About before. This is after. This should be better.
Her hand waves once. Drags me closer with a wink of fingers wrapped in metal bands. "Daliah."
Good child that I am , I stride forward, rigid , stopping myself from moving my face too much. She hates it when I frown or bite my lips. She taught me better. "Yes."
She takes back to the task of brushing her hair. Why she does it herself now is beyond me. Maybe this is just something she likes to do?
I have the same dark hair. Even if I miss some of the glossy sheen on it. My eyes watch her move , up and down, strand by strand. Healthy, well kept hair that falls over her shoulders in long,sleek lines. It's a hypnotic pattern. I stare at it like an animal at their food moving. Like the black cat used to stare when her favorite toy flew past her whiskers.
"Do you know how silk is made?"
My brain rattles. Is this a trick question?
"It's produced by caterpillars," I answer. "Before they turn into moths and start their metamorphosis, they spin a cocoon ?"
Her hand stops on the brush. Her eyes in the mirror take me in with "Don't answer a question with a question if you can impress me with confidence."
My head drops. "They spin cocoons, Larentia."
"And what happens then?"
"They get cooked," I answer. This time I take a deep breath to not waver in my words. "People boil them and take the silk."
The rhythm of the brush stops. "What do you think about that?"
My face shines pale in the mirror plate of the vanity. I'm pallid and plain against her sharp cut , perfectly formed features. Black and grey against the clean woven beauty of everything Larentia is and chooses to surround herself with. "That they are ugly to people but useful?"
