Luminous

42 - Behind the Mask

"Lady Arinel? Where's Haselle? What're you doing here?"

Meya demanded, gawking at the young woman with brown curls who had answered her summons with a loud bang that bounced the door one-and-a-half rounds into the wall. Completing the remaining half-round with a thunderous slam, Lady Crosset flounced over to Meya, pushed her down on the chair, then snatched up a comb.

"She's distraught. Grandmother's taking her straight to our carriage." She explained brusquely as her hands bustled about, dividing Meya's hair into equal portions with the comb's tapered handle. Her hands were shaking, and the comb's pointed end sliced a vicious path down Meya's scalp like a scalpel—the Ice Lady was enraged.

"What happened?" Meya winced as Arinel yanked back three sheaves of her hair and weaved them into a plait.

"Few days ago, the other Crossetian maids gave her an ointment for her burns—spiked with poison ivy!" Arinel tugged hard on the rungs of the braid to tighten them, and Meya bit back a groan of pain. The lady took no notice. She headed straight into a fiery tirade, punctuated by her own seething grunts and Meya's internal prayers.

"I could've ordered them thrown headfirst (Ow!)—into an ivy bush (Agh!)—if I had the power. Despicable! (Youch!)—After all she'd been through! (Oh, sweet mother Freda.)—How could they! (I'm going bald.)"

"You could punish them, your grace. To them, you're the real Lady Crosset. Knock yourself out." Meya commented through gritted teeth, blinking back tears. Then all emotion melted away from her freckled face, her gaze cooled as she reminded, her voice level,

"That aside, ought you not to have told me summat?"

Arinel's hands froze. Lowering the braid she was working on, she raised her gaze to meet Meya's eyes, reflected in the mirror. Her lips quivered, forming soundless, unuttered words,

"So, Coris told you?" She breathed, eyes wide in shock and guilt. Meya did not oblige with the slightest nod, but the answer was blatant in her cold stare. Arinel sighed deeply, nodding in surrender.

"We agreed to leave it to him. He was the only witness, after all. I'm so sorry, Meya. I never knew—"

Meya studied Arinel's reflection as she dipped her head in shame. Tremors from her fingertips traveled up Meya's half-finished braid, and Meya felt her resentment abating. Arinel really hadn't known, after all. She wasn't to blame.

"Aren't you scared of me?" She asked, more to torment herself than from genuine curiosity, adding at the sight of Arinel's perplexed look, "I'm a fire-breathing, humongous monster, you know?"

Arinel chewed her lip as she articulated her thoughts and feelings into words, then sighed softly.

"Well, I'd be lying if I said the notion didn't intimidate me at all." She fiddled idly with Meya's braid, then shook her head firmly, "But I'm not scared of you, no. Weirded out? Somewhat. I guess I simply need time to get used to it. We all do."

Meya found it difficult to believe. As if sensing her cynicism, Arinel knelt down beside her chair, fingers still loosely steepled on her braid. Meya turned and met her gaze. She unfurled a faint, gentle smile.

"From what Coris told us, your first act upon transforming was rescuing him." Her voice was soft as her soothing hand on Meya's arm, her fingers sinking into the scar that was solid proof of her heroic deed. 

"Dragon or human. Then or now. Your motive have always been to protect. That's what we saw when we look at you." The lady's smile widened a twitch as her voice lowered into a whisper, "It's the same with your Song, Meya. If you don't let it define you, then it won't."