Gifted

1: Invitation

I woke to the sun breaking through my window pane, striking my face with a painful warmth. I groaned and rolled over, forcing myself into a sitting position. I felt my long blonde hair tumble around my torso and face as I stretched. I ran my fingers through it, trying to calm the angry curls of sleep. I took a brush to it, smoothing the violent ringlets into subtle twists. I stood up and walked to my closet. I pulled down my favorite sky blue dress, stepping behind the screen to change.

When I came out, I looked at my sister, the lovely brunette Artemis. I smiled. Artie's hair was covering her face, tangled around her fingers. Hers was as untamable as my own.

Downstairs, I saw my other sister Athena, paintbrush in hand, silently depicting the dew-kissed garden on canvas, in the library. Ana, as she liked to be called, had long black hair that was pulled up into a perfect braid.

I slipped down the stairs to my secret room, my music room. A piano was set in the corner, bought for me by my kind parents. A violin stood in its place by the stained glass window. A harp stood in the middle of the room, and a flute laid on its stand in the other corner. I made a beeline for the piano, my favorite.

I quietly let my fingers dance, a rhythm flowing from them like they had minds of their own. I closed my eyes. Nothing pleased me more than playing in the morning.

I heard footsteps on the stairs and turned. It was my brother, Perseus. I often found it amusing that my sisters and I were named after the Greek goddesses, while my brothers were named after the heroes they used as pawns. Percy was my oldest brother, my best friend, and my twin. I often told my parents he should have been named Hercules, the hero Hera-- my namesake-- disliked the most. I only teased, however. I loved my brother very much.

"Hello, Hera," he yawned. "I heard you playing." I turned back to my keys.

"Where's your book?" I asked.

"Book?"

"Don't you always have a book in hand?"

"Haha, funny." He smiled a half smile, leaning on the piano. "Are you going to the gala tomorrow evening?" he asked. I looked up.

"What gala?"

"At the governor's home," he said. My heart skipped a beat. The governor had the most beautiful pianos. "Some rich earl and his son, who's a count or something, are passing through. So the governor is throwing a gala." He smiled. "And the lovely Platt sisters have been specially invited, said the herald himself."

"Liar."

"He did!" Percy insisted. "The governor and his son requested it. Not only that, but I heard the earl's son is extremely handsome. I think that's another reason." I rolled my eyes.

"I don't want to spend an entire evening with stuck-up nobles," I said. "They just like searching for pretty girls to spend time with." Percy shrugged.

"Maybe," he replied, "but, Hera, this may be the only chance for me to see Marci."

Marci Long. The governor's daughter. Percy was helplessly in love. I smiled.

"Please, Hera?" he begged. "Mother said I can't go unless all of my sisters go. I've already convinced Artie and Ana and Persephone. You're the only one left. Please?" I looked up at him.

"Only if I can play the pianos." His eyes grew wide.

"No. You know the rules. If any of the nobles heard you, you'd be taken away and forced to play at their meals and parties and war discussions and when they can't sleep."

"I was kidding," I said. "I'll go. But only because you want to see Marci. And I want to see how handsome this count from on top of his high horse is." I stood and pulled the lid over the piano keys. "I'm hungry. Let's go see if chef Artie has anything cooking yet."