Arvella couldn't imagine a night more dull than the one she was mentally preparing herself for now. Another several hours of entertaining, dancing, and meddling in affairs in which she had no business in, at least not now. She was only 17, relatively young compared to others of her status, others who took great pride in gloating for how long they had spun around the universe. Arvella felt no such pride, felt as if that it did not matter how long one lived if they had nothing to live for. Alas, her words were not taken into consideration for apparently her age also reflected her intelligence, which was another matter she could argue upon for hours.
She gasped as her thoughts were abruptly interrupted as she felt as if the very life was being squeezed from her core, causing her to stiffen into a rigid form.
"Now, now, it wasn't that bad," an airy voice sighed behind her, "if one wishes to impress the audience, one must dress for them."
Arvella rolled her eyes upon hearing the distaste in his voice, a tone she had heard far too many times before.
"If one wishes to impress, one must be able to breathe," she replied eloquently through gritted teeth, holding her chin high as she looked ahead, regaining her posture. She gasped once more as the corset was laced even tighter, stumbling as she felt as if she were about to snap in half.
"Breathing comes only second to impressions, dear sister," he reminded her gently, "this is a very important occasion, one that must not be imperfect in any way."
The handmaid rushed around her feet, draping her smooth skin in waves of light satin. She glanced down at the material in which was chosen for her, something that would supposedly only eccentuate her beauty. The gown itself was dazzling, she hated to admit. The material was of a deep blue, one so deep she had gone so far as to saying she had never seen the shade before. It was endless, mesmerizing, one good get lost if it weren't for the other accents. Deep shades of Violet and cobalt swirled together like a nebula, with dazzling encrusted jewels glittering like stars. Arvella tried not to look at herself as she looked up once more, tried not to look at the reflection in the large glass window. Instead, she looked past herself as she had done many times before, and into the vastness of the universe before her.
A canvas of stars stretched beyond the reaches of her vision, the ever stretching arms of far off galaxies reaching into the darkness. They swirled and shimmered, sparkled and spun. She had become so lost in this sights before, had become so entralled in discovering soemthing she had never known. The entire world she lived in, all of the infinite possibilities, it was so-
"Breathtaking," he sighed behind her, stepping up beside Arvella.
She was jolted from her dreaming, forced back into what was her own disappointing reality. The stars faded back into the background, and she had now come face to face with the person she was most dreading to see; herself.
Too short, not thin enough, caked in cosmetics that she had never heard of, dressed up like a pet ready for a show. This wasn't her, not this refined version of what everyone had expected. She glanced at the reflection beside her, none other than her eldest brother, the heir to her family's fortune, Batair Silaverius.
He was what everyone would have thought him to be. Tall, lean, skin of pure ivory, icey-blonde hair that swept in waves and eyes like a golden sun. He was proper, well-trained in all areas of diplomacy, war, and all-around able to get whatever he desired. He stood straight, hands folded behind his back as he looked at the two of them, reflected into the starry sky.
"I believe we are more than ready to handle what is next," Batair smiled slightly, glancing up to his sister confidently, "mother and father will be expecting us any minute, please, do not be late."
Arvella held her gaze with his until he turned to leave, the automatic doors closing behind him with a silent huff. Finished with her work, the handmaid took a step away from Arvella, placing her hands neatly in front of her as she admired her work.
"Lord Batair is right," she assured her with a curt nod, "you look simply dazzling in that gown, surely you will turn many heads tonight."
Arvella closed her eyes for a moment, releasing a sigh she had held for far too long. Lifting the edges of her skirt, she carefully stepped off of the pedestal, the long train trailing down after her. Her handmaid chewed at her fingers nervously, surely fearful that Arvella would damage the exquisite gown.
"That is what I fear, Briesis," Arvella spoke, releasing the material gently from her hands, "I do not wish to be a spectacle for others to behold, I just want to be myself."
Arvella opened her eyes, her unhappiness evident through them. She was frightened, no, petrified, of what others might think of her, and more importantly, how they would act.
The handmaid frowned, eyebrows tilting in sympathy as she stepped over to her, reaching out with her hands to hold those of the woman she had grown to know.
"Oh, but you are yourself," Briesis smiled, revealing her short mouse-like teeth, "you don't need to see it, just feel it." She moved one of her hands over Arvella's chest, giving it a few gentle taps over where her heart was.
Arvella couldn't help but smile slightly at her actions, out of all the handmaidens under her family's control she had formed an undeniable bond with Briesis. She had been born into servitude, as he sole purpose was to serve a family of higher class. She was Terran, yes, but her genes had been spliced with those of a common field mouse. Those genes made her quite tidy and quick, not to mention meek and quiet. She obeyed orders as she was told, and usually minded her own business. However, that was not the Briesis she knew.
She had known Briesis since she was a child, having remembered spending more time with her than her actual mother. That was not an uncommon thing to happen, as her mother was a very busy and important woman, so she was reassured several times. Unlike her mother or her father, Briesis had always been there to comfort her, to wipe away her tears, to cheer her on when she was learning how to ride. Briesis was her closest and only friend.
"You're right," Arvella smiled, resting her hand upon Briesis' with a soft sigh.
The older woman smiled, dimples wrinkling at her cheeks as short whiskers curled up. "I am very proud of you, my little star."
Arvella released her hand as Briesis backed away, bowing her head politely as she motioned to the door. "I don't think it is wise to make them wait any longer..."
A sudden dread took a hold of her as she looked to where her maid had gestured, dreading stepping into something she could have never prepared herself for. Although Briesis had succeeded in comforting her momentarily, that feeling of safety left her, feeling exposed and quivering. She wasn't ready for this, wasn't ready to face them.
She frantically flipped her head around to see her maid one more time, but before she could open her mouth to utter denial, the door slid open once more.
"Did I not tell you not to be late?" Batair sighed dramatically with a roll of his eyes, storming into the room towards his sister, "we're on a very tight schedule, no use in mucking it all up now."
Before Arvella could protest, Batair had already hooked his arm in hers, nearly dragging her out of the room. Arvella stole a quick glance over her shoulder, her eyes pleading for help as she looked onward at Briesis, who was gleefully waving her away.
This was the beginning of the end.
Arvella was whisked through various corridors, her lengthy dress trailing behind her. For once, she was appreciative of the design of this particular one, how the slit in the front allowed her to move quickly without getting caught up in the skirts. How she had managed that, she would never know. Her heels clicked noisily on the black stone floors, keeping in rhythm with her brother's swift strides. She had to admit, she was having some difficulties keeping up with his pace, but she supposed this was one of his ways of punishing her for delaying their arrival.
Before she knew it, they were there, facing a large metallic door with various designs encrusted in it. Planets with rings, ancient looking encryptions like a labyrinth of technology. None of this meant anything to Arvella, as she had never thought to sit and study it. But now, she had wished for a bit more time to look at it, to get lost in the swirling patterns. She wanted to know what it meant, yes, anything than what was to come next.
"Ready?" Batair breathed into her ear, a short smirk lifting at the corner of his lip. He was enjoying this, that bastard.
Arvella was more than ready to bite back with some sort of snarky remark, but her breath hitched as the door suddenly swung open before them. A blinding light streamed across her face as she squinted, freezing like a poor deer in headlights as she stood there, motionless.
"Their brilliances, Lord Batair and Lady Arvella, heirs to the Silaverius Dynasty."
So this was what the end was like.