Family Gifts

Sunrises here are divine. I climb the servants’ staircase in one of the towers of the chateau and sit at the top, wrapping myself in a blanket. The towers are purely ornamental, but a few of them have trapdoors to the roof. I love it up here. I love to sit here and dream the day away. But I can never stay too long. As soon as I hear Mother screeching for me from below I must return and pretend that she has awakened me. Fortunately my room on the first floor is conveniently close to this tower and I can do this without any problems.

Everything is so peaceful up here. The birds twitter to each other as the sky lightens and the clouds blush every elegant colour imaginable. Gradually the landscape becomes discernible and I can see the grazing cattle and sheep in the fields, the trees in the distance, the farmers emerging to start the day. The sun slowly floats up from its nest in the distant trees, a glowing orb of liquid fire.

Kyla and I used to do this together. I hope that, wherever she is now--the address on her letters indicates that she is in India, but I trust nothing--she, too, has a place to take respite. We haven’t spoken of such things. I shall write to her about it in our next letter. I miss her desperately, especially since it seems I have no hope of seeing her again. Whenever I ask about visiting her, Mother slaps me, or at least snaps at me to shut up. Zira, my other elder sister, is no better. She’s a shallow, stuck-up imbecile, but Mother dotes on her incessantly. They’re two peas in a pod.

I wish Zira could have been the one to leave when she was married off. But no, she and Norbert live here, in the princess suite upstairs. It’s a decidedly feminine room, despite Norbert’s presence; Zira’s always had it, and the pink walls and furnishings show it. I think they kept it because of the balcony, and the adjoining full bath with a hot tub. The closet, despite being the size of my entire room, is filled with Zira’s clothes and Norbert must use a linen closet in the hallway for his things that cannot be folded.

“Aerys? Aerys! It’s time for breakfast!” Mother squawks, jolting me from my reverie. I am instantly on my feet and descending the stairs with practised stealth. I have done this too many times to be caught now. A narrow, forgotten passage under the stairs at the bottom of the tower connects to my closet, and I emerge from there with a dress in hand just as Mother bursts into my room through the main door.

“Ah, there you are, Aerys, darling. It’s breakfast time, dear. Cook made your favourite,” Mother coaxes with one of her trademark brittle, insincere smiles. She perpetually looks like she’s swallowed something bitter. It’s quite a pity, as it rather spoils her looks. She’d be a storybook beauty if she ever smiled genuinely.

“Thank you, Mama. I’ll be there just as soon as I’m dressed,” I reply demurely with a slight curtsey. She always makes us be formal, all of her children, and she makes us call her Mama (once I tried calling her the Dragon Lady after reading a book of Chinese history; she did not approve). Mother purses her lips in disapproval.

“Be quick about it. I’ve actually gotten your father to come to a family meal for once. You wouldn’t want to miss him.” With that, she sweeps out of the room and I smirk to myself. There is no doubt in my mind that Father came because our cook, Delilah, made ‘my’ favourite dish, which is coincidentally his favourite, as well. I also asked Delilah to ask him to breakfast for me, since I never see him to ask in person and she sees him almost daily, based on how often I hear them together in his study...procreating.

Unlike Zira (or most females, she tells me), it only takes me a few minutes to get dressed. I don’t understand how it takes her so long to take off a nightdress and put on a regular dress. Then again, she’s always dressed far more elaborately than I do. I like my peasant-style attire, but both Mother and Zira find it appalling. Grandmother’s word rules, however, and so I am permitted to wear what I please. It is her money that provides for us, after all, and I have always been her favourite. They say I look like she did when she was young, with my wild auburn tresses and turquoise eyes. Grandmother’s eyes have become a cold, snappy violet and her hair has gone completely white. I’m never quite sure if I like her or if she terrifies me. I think she prefers to keep it that way.

I always move through the chateau’s secret passages, although they are falling into disrepair since only a few of the servants and I are aware of their existence, when I have been summoned to a particular room. I like to appear out of nowhere and scare people, especially my younger siblings. They, like Zira and even Kyla, all resemble my mother with blonde hair and dark eyes. Most of them also inherited her attitude. The littlest ones, Micah and Mikhail, are indisputably adorable. Everyone, even Mother, dotes on them. They’ll probably turn out to be spoiled brats, but for now they’re quite cute. They’re only six or so. It’s hard to keep track.

“Good gracious, Aerys! Must you always just appear in the most unlikely places?!” Zira gasps as I step out from behind an ornate screen that separates the sunroom from the dining room. I smirk slightly. She’s my favourite scaring victim.

“Perhaps you simply should not stand so near the most unlikely places,” I answer breezily as I brush past her to take my seat at the table. Father is already seated; I can hear Mother screeching at Delilah. The little lines around my father’s mouth tighten. He wants to rescue his lover from Mother’s wrath, but cannot without the risk of revealing his dirty little secret. What a splendid misery they make this place.

“Good morning, daughter. Happy birthday,” Father greets me woodenly. I drop the usual curtsey in return.

“Thank you, Father. You are too kind.” Then Mother appears, and Zira and I drop into our seats automatically. As if on cue, Norbert (still quite sleepy-looking) enters the room, followed by a scraggly trail of my younger siblings. They’ve liked him far more than Zira ever since he moved in. He’s just as boringly handsome and dim-witted as his wife, but unlike Zira he actually has a kind heart. I feel sorry for him.

We all eat in silence, as is normal. Mother’s eyes are smouldering with undisclosed desires, as they always do when she and Father are in the same room. He blandly ignores her burning glances and she gradually gets more fidgety and irritable. Meanwhile, Norbert and Zira shoot each other ridiculously sappy looks and my younger siblings make faces at them, thinking them as disgusting as I do. I am glad that none of the little ones have chosen to talk about their latest adventures. It would only make Mother angry and make this more tense than it already is.

“Children, this is a very special day,” Mother announces once she has finished her breakfast, once again wearing that tight, insincere smile. “Your sister Aerys turns eighteen today.”

“Happy Birthday, Aerys!” all my siblings chorus, as is customary in our family. We always celebrate birthdays at breakfast with family, and then there’s usually a banquet at night with Grandmother and Grandfather and any ‘special guests’ they may bring. I blush and smile, unused to the attention, although admittedly it is less than heartfelt by at least Zira.

“In honour of your sister’s birthday, we are having a special banquet tonight. You will all attend looking your absolute best,” Father says woodenly. I arch an eyebrow at him. He almost never speaks at these functions. I think he resents us all because we’re Mother’s children, or he feels guilty about something. He’s more difficult to read than most.

“You are most gracious, Father,” I answer softly, as I must.

“Your siblings have a gift for you, Aerys, dear,” Mother interjects. Lucia comes forward with the elegant garment box I’m expecting. Zira and Kyla both got elegant dresses from all of us on their eighteenth birthdays. I hardly expected to be an exception. I am, however, surprised by the dress, which is somehow exactly my taste: Red and Grecian in style, with the bust formed by a sash cinched between the breasts by an antique silver brooch. The sash comes over the left shoulder from the back and through the brooch again to dangle over the stomach, lost in the rest of the floor-length skirt.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathe, unable to believe my eyes. “Thank you all. I shall wear it tonight.” I’m sure I’m required to, anyway, but I would wear it even if I were forbidden to do so.

“Excellent. I had planned for exactly that,” Mother gloats, no doubt thrilled that for once my wishes and hers align. “You are all dismissed. Aerys, the day is yours to do with as you see fit, unless I summon you.”

“Thank you kindly, Mama.” I back out of the room behind the screen before fleeing them all silently as usual to stow the dress in my closet with my others. After that, I will spend my time in the music room, practising piano, harp, flute, lute, harpsichord, and anything else that happens to be available. My musical studies are my favourite and my best. Also, if I play loudly enough, I most likely will not hear any summons that comes. It’s worked for every other birthday. Why should this one be any different?

***~O~***