A Word a Day

Day Seven: Sister

        Knock! Knock! Knock!

        "Maury, let me in!"

        Mauritia was sprawn across her canopied queen-sized bed, dirty-blonde hair clinging to her pillow, magnificent dress crumpled carelessly between her petite body and the baby blue sheets. Upon hearing the insistant voice, she proceeded to roll onto her stomach, face firmly planted into her pillow.

        "What do you want, Eugenie?" she called out, voice muffled by the soft, cotton-stuffed pillow.

        "I want to talk to you. Maury, let me in, please. I'm not angry at you, I just want to talk." The young woman outside the door paused for a brief moment. "Please?"

        Sighing in resignation, Mauritia pushed herself up from her bed, wanting nothing more than to stay in the comfort of her bed, dreading what her sisteer would say to her once she entered. Mond, the talk she would soon be having with Father caused far more anxiety, but all the same... She wasn't sure she know Eugenie anymore. She wasn't sure that Eugenie knew her anymore.

        They had grown so far apart in the past months. Before Fahd came, Eugenie had often come to rescue Mauritia from her governess, taking her horseback riding and picnking as she had needed it. For those short months between Mother's death and the arrival of Eugenie's fiance, Mauritia's older sister had helped her cope. In a way, she became a replacement mother. She had helped Mauritia begin to heal.

        But that was all over far too soon. Father had made the decision to step down as king, and offered his oldest daughter to the youngest prince of their sister kingdom, as it was his belief that a king and a queen were needed in order to rule effectively. Eugenie, a fiercely proud and independent individual, did not take it well, especially when she learned she be marrying the skilless heartthrob that she made Fahd out to be. She avoided him, she scalded him, and Mauritia knew very well that it hurt the young man. He had even come to her for advice on gaining her sister's love, or at the very least friendship. Mauritia felt bad for the young prince; as a fellow youngest child, she knew how much it hurt to be compared to older siblings. And Fahd's three brothers, and even sister-in-law, were magnificent to say the least. Basil the Mighty. Hakin the Wise. Lionel the Courageous. Constance the Righteous. And Fahd was just Fahd, just as Mauritia was just Mauritia, living in the shadow of Eugenie the Spectacular.

        Opening the white-painted door, Mauritia looked up at her black-haired sister with bloodshot eyes. "What do you want?" she managed.

        Eugenie gave her a wry look, blue eyes staring down at her from behind unnaturally long eyelashes. "I told you," she answered calmly, "I want to speak with you."

        Then, without waiting for an invitation, Mauritia's well-mannered and diplomatic sister pushed past her and into the sleeping chambers, making herself comfortable on the edge of Mauritia's unkempt bed. She looked over at her stunned younger sister with raised eyebrows. "Well? What are you waiting for? Take a seat."

        Grudgingly, Mauritia pushed her bedroom door closed behind her, securing the lock before going over to sit on the windowsill, bare toes at home against the cold window. She knew this unproffessional mannerism bothered Eugenie, but either her sister failed to notice, or she did not feel that it was worth picking a fight over.

        Eugenie herself sat with pristine posture, her back straight and her head held high. She seemed at home in her velvetty purple and gold dress, her golcen circlet a stark contrast against her dark waves. On the other hand, Mauritia knew her own dark blue dress to be hopelessly wrinkled, her corset loosened in a manner that it did no good. Her feet were bare and she lay slouched, hair a whole other level of disaster. And her silver circlet had been abandoned, locked in a chest in her dressing room where she didn't have to look at it.