The door opened slowly, and Gen froze in terror. He was so dead if he was caught sulking in the gardens. Nimble, he scrambled up the nearest tree and clung to the branches for dear life. He dare not breathe at all, and the sweet scent of oranges tempted him. Damn it; damn his cousins and his lack of dinner.
As a young, slip of a girl stepped out tentatively, he sighed in relief. She obviously wasn't holding a dagger of any sort. She was tall, and willowy, yet he was unable to see her face in the darkness. Kicking away her slippers, she stepped into the wet mud, and a whisper of a sigh escaped her. In the moonlight, it seemed as though her colour was bled out into the surroundings, and she was all silver and sad.
Tapping her long fingers to a rhythm only she could hear, her feet began to move in a familiar pattern; he had seen the older girls dance during the festival. This particular dance was tricky, especially because it took place in that line, and one had to be careful to stay on.
Despite having probably not danced it as often as his sisters, she was quick on her feet. Twirling between lines of cabbages and carrots, her skirt fanned out in a pale circle. He had never seen anything so lonely before.
The door opened again, and warm, yellow light spilled into the garden, shattering the moment. A woman stood at the door, stern and angry, calling the girl to come in.
As she wore her slipper and fled in, he caught a glimpse of tears on her face, and finally recognized it.
Cousins. Why were there so many of them here? He must have wronged someone important in his past life to be saddled with so many relatives. And they were complaining abputr something again.
"Ugh. I swear I saw her grow fangs. Fangs!" Titus? Yes. He was slurring drunkenly. The gods alone knew how much he had drunk earlier.
"You, are never drinking unwatered wine again." Helen declared, with every bit of majesty she had been crowned with just an hour ago. "Besides, she isn't so bad." She continued, her face softening.
This, of course, was protested by one and all. Seeing a battle lost, Helen made a last-ditch attempt. "Gen? What do you think?"
Good gods, he was going to get back at her for dragging him into this. But for now…
"She isn't a monster." Ignoring their incredulous glances, he explained firmly.
"Monsters don't cry,"