DEMENTED | Romance | Fantasy | Slight Thriller

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Small Moments

Listen to the above music while reading.

It was true. Crimson had never loved Autumn. But she had always admired her.

The first time she ever truly noticed her was during a Harvest Moon Festival many years ago. They both had been very young then–Autumn only a year older than her (she would find out Autumn's age at the time later on). Children all around her were laughing, playing together happily, and Crimson had wanted to join them–but instead was forced to remain in the royal box with her sister and parents. It was a time when Crimson did not fully understand what it was to be Crown Princess, and the responsibilities that would come with taking the throne, so for the time being she was sullen–not knowing how this miniscule sacrifice of time would prove beneficial to her in the future.

It was then when the daughters of the courtiers would perform a dance for the royal family, and Crimson pretended to be disinterested, earning herself a murderous glare from her father. He would punish her later, she knew. But for now she would try and have this over him.

But she lost her pretense as soon as she noticed a girl in the center of the dance. Each movement she made rippled like water. She moved fluidly and gracefully, by far the most talented in the group. They performed two numbers, and all the while Crimson couldn't help but stare–utterly mesmerized. Strange, she thought to herself later. There must've been magic in her movement. She was a spark of light in the darkness that grew when her mother passed.

The next time she would see her would be in the latest time of the night and the earliest time of the morning, nearly a year after Crimson had initially noticed her. All night, she'd been plagued with visions of her now-dead mother, screaming unknown words in her face, all ballooned purple and puffy from the sickness that had killed her. Sobs no longer shook her frame, but the fear was still in her eyes–so she decided to leave the palace for a bit and watch the cursed sun rise.

She walked into the gardens, a nearby gazebo as her target. She lifted her skirts to climb the step up into it, but just as she was about to she realized she was not alone. There was the girl she'd seen before dancing. She hadn't noticed her yet, looking out at the growing light rising from the dark horizon. Then she turned and saw Crimson frozen, and startled. "Oh!"

"Sorry to disturb you," Crimson said sheepishly. "I'll take my leave–"

"No!" Autumn exclaimed, and then caught a hold of herself. "I mean, that's okay, you can stay up here. I promise I won't be too much of a bother."

Crimson smiled. "Thanks," she said as she stepped in the little "room" and sat next to her. She did not yet know her name, and so she asked her.

"Oh, I'm Autumn–Marquis Armani is my father," she explained. "Sorry, I should've said that at the beginning."

"It's okay," she reassured her. "I'm Crimson."

"I know." Autumn smiled. "I've seen you at court a few times. And I've gotta say, you're so much different up close."

"Different?" She was confused. "Different how?"

Autumn laughed–and it surprised Crimson, for it was unladylike and, to be frank, resembled that of a dying horse. "You–just seem much less intimidating, that's all. You have this sort of stern look on your face whenever you're in there. Like this." She mimicked an exaggerated frown, and Crimson scowled. "I don't look like that!"

She laughed, pointing. "Now you're doing it again!"

Crimson immediately tried to wipe the look off her face, and gradually Autumn's laughter softened. "It's just really nice to finally talk to you in person. I've wanted to for a while now!"