Meiden Fassa's office was one of the more interesting rooms in the palace. Unlike most of the other rooms, the office was decorated in subdued, rich tones of dark woods and navy blue fabrics. The Western side of the room was graced with no less than three bay windows, through which the afternoon sunlight illuminated the otherwise gloomy room. Bits of dust floated merrily in the air, illuminated by the shafts of golden light. Many visitors to this room often complained that the accumulated dust of the room was an irritation to their sinuses, but Meiden was adamantly against anyone cleaning his sanctum. He always defended his position by saying that he feared that "some ignorant servant might discard of some priceless item mistaking it for common garbage."
Every bit of the walls not taken up by a window or door was lined with a series of shelves and racks which housed his library. Hundreds, if not thousands of leather-bound volumes and ancient scrolls occupied every possible space, some of them so old that they outdated the kingdom of Asturia itself. Meiden prided himself at having one of the greatest libraries on Gaea, his only rival for the title being his own son, Dryden.
In addition to the manuscripts, he also had a large accumulation of maps. An old, yellowed globe of Gaea sat on the right hand corner of his desk, serving as a paperweight for a stack of out of date maps and charts. On the left corner, another pile, this one of more accurate, modern maps, was being held down by a pile of small, burlap bags containing the shining gold pieces which he kept nearby at all times. Though Meiden was rich, his assets were tied up in investments of his mercantile business, and thus he had only a relatively small amount of gold in his possession, making it all the more precious to him.
In fact, Meiden loved money. Not love in the sense of a companion, but as in the goal of his existence. Born to a long line of merchants that could trace its lineage back to before Gaea was created, he was literally born to make money. And that he had. As the head of the most powerful trade organization on Gaea, and the richest private citizen in Asturia, he had attained a position in the nobility. That prestige had earned him the position of the King's most trusted advisor. So great was his influence that King Aston had agreed to betroth his youngest daughter Millerna to Dryden. Thus, Meiden's son would become the next King of Asturia. That fact gave him almost as much pride for his son as he had for his own accomplishments.
At that moment in time, Meiden sat in a dark red, leather chair behind his desk. A crystalline goblet filled with a fine vinor in his left hand. He sipped it periodically, enjoying the comforting sweetness of the liquor. He ran his right hand through his thick black beard, considering his options for the day's activities. He gazed out of the nearest of the windows, to see the white-washed surface of the palace walls in the distance. The warm sunlight felt pleasant against his dark, weathered skin, and he elected to simply sit back in his chair and laze the day away.
As he did so, there was a sharp, precise rap on the office door. "Come" Meiden called out, sitting up straight, putting the glass of vinor into a convenient, open drawer, and grabbed one of the maps from his desk in what seemed to be one fluid motion. When his aide opened the massive red wooden door, he saw what he believed to be his master hard at work planning his next financial endeavor. Meiden, after all, had a reputation as a tireless, economic master to uphold.
Looking up from the map as if he had been interrupted from his study, he asked curtly: "What?"
"Someone here to see you milord." the aide, a rat-man informed him. "A knight, I believe. He says that he is here to apply for a guymelef piloting position."
"What guymelef piloting position?" Meiden thought aloud, having already forgotten the suggestion he had made yesterday.
"He mentioned something about slaying a Sky Dragon, master." The rat-man provided.
Realization dawned on him like the morning sun on a desert. "Ah...yes. Now I remember. Send him in, would you?"
"Yes, milord." The aide inclined his head and retreated back into the antechamber.
Moments later, the door swung open once more, this time admitting a muscular fellow, with coal black hair, clad in informal garb that marked him as a common knight. Although he did not look particularly dashing or heroic, he seemed to have a capable aura. "Lord Meiden?" The knight inquired hesitantly, as if in doubt of his own presence.
"Yes. And who might you be?" The merchant answered with what he assumed was an appropriately modulated tone considering the relatively low status of his audience.
"Gaddes, sir." The soldier stated. "I've come to ask about that position I heard about, the guymelef piloting one? I heard that you needed a pilot to go kill that Sky Dragon."
"Where did you hear of this?" Meiden asked, curious as to how word had filtered down to such a low-level knight in such a short time.
Gaddes cleared his throat and straightened his vest self-consciously before replying. "I...uh...heard it from a messenger I met at the Garusan restaurant."
Meiden contained his instinct to bristle at the statement. Messengers were never to divulge information to others outside the Court, and doing so was a crime punishable by demotion. "Who was this messenger, then?"
"Maketto...yeah I'm pretty sure that's what he said his name was." The soldier's reply came in a hesitant voice. "I haven't done anything wrong, have I?"
"Oh, no, no." Meiden reassured him. "It's simply that the job was merely a suggestion I made to the King. You see, King Aston has yet to approve that course of action. I'm afraid that the messenger you speak of was premature in his informing you."
"Oh." Gaddes said simply, not sure how to take the news. "Well...I guess that's that. I suppose I should go now."
Meiden watched thoughtfully as the young knight turned to leave, and was slightly empathetic. "Wait..."
Gaddes turned to face him with a confused look.
"Gaddes, isn't it?" Meiden asked, having almost forgotten the name.
He nodded.
"I apologize for the inconvenience, I had no idea that word had spread about the Sky Dragon's attack, let alone my plans for dealing with it. I would like to make it up to you."
"How's that?" Gaddes inquired, his coal-black brows furrowed in confusion.
"Perhaps the position could still be open. If you're still interested, that is..."
"Yes sir!" The knight's expression brightened slightly.
Meiden chuckled. "You see, I have several guymelefs, but as you know, no one to pilot them. The one that I was thinking of employing to destroy the Dragon is in the Eastern Sun warehouse on the far side of the city. It's a fine machine, but I'm afraid that it sustained some damage in a battle prior to my purchase of it." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "If you were to repair it for me...you know, bang out some dents, test it out, and whatnot, I might be able to convince King Aston to follow through with my idea. If so, then you would already have guymelef ready, and would be the first in line for the position. Also, in the event of King Aston's refusal, I will compensate you for your effort with a payment of 300 ----------."
"Three hundred?" Gaddes' eye's enlarged.
Meiden smiled wider, knowing full well that the young man was considering the implications of a full month's salary being offered to him for a simple repair job. "I take it you are satisfied with that offer?"
"Yes, milord!" Gaddes agreed readily.
"Excellent. Report to the Eastern Sun warehouse tomorrow morning then." Meiden watched the young man leave with a pleased grin. Not many could have come up with such an ingenious win-win solution to a problem on the spot, and he was quite proud of himself. Reaching into the drawer, he picked up the goblet of vinor he had deftly hidden there and took a sip. Marvelous he thought of both himself and the liquor. However, what he failed to realize was the even more marvelous thing: that he had just given an eighteen-year-old young man the means to either gain tremendous prestige, or a horrible death.
* * *
Marlene stood before a full-length mirror in her room, gazing at her own reflected image. She was wearing a new dress, an elegant one of pink and white with a low-cut neck, ruffles at the shoulders, and at the hem of the dress, which just barely reached the ground. Lace adorned the skirt and the neckline, a soft white only slightly more ivory than her skin. A necklace hung around her neck, a large amethyst at the vertex of a pearl parabola. Elbow-length gloves of the same white lace as the dress served as a background to bracelets of the same pearls and amethysts. Taken together, it was a beautiful ensemble that complemented her light complexion and soft, lavender-blue eyes.
Although she was gazing directly at the mirror, her own appearance was the last thing on her mind. Ever since the night before, her mind had been a whirl. Thoughts of her lover flooded her mind like a storm, each memory and idea like another rush of water bursting forth to push away all other thoughts. That night, she and Allen had done something that she had always thought that she wanted, something she had always known was to happen between them, but now she felt differently.
It had been wrong, she knew. It violated everything that Allen's code dictated, and defied the honor of the Aston family. Worse yet, she realized that they had done what they did for the wrong reasons. She had been afraid of never having the chance to experience Allen, afraid of what they might never be able to do if he were to die in this mission of his. Now, she realized that it could have been a more tragic mistake not to wait.
At the same time, that fear was still there. The fear of losing him; the fear that they would never be together again; the fear that Allen would merely fail, leaving her with no option but to marry the Duke of Fried; all of these fears welled up inside of her, and combined into a sickening feeling. She felt that her fear was a Sky Dragon of its own, a formidable beast that terrorized the countryside of her soul.
She let out her fear in a long, shaky sigh, but in doing so, it allowed another emotion, doubt to creep up on her. Why Allen? She asked mentally. Why do you have to jeopardize everything we have on such a stupid venture? Why did you ask me to speak to Meiden for you? Why did you have to involve me in this at all? The answers she sought were not forthcoming.
As she continued her introspection, she heard the faraway sound of her chamber's door opening. "Marlene?" A questioning voice asked from the door.
She turned away from the mirror to look upon her little sister, Eries, middle of the three Asturian Princesses, also dressed in a formal gown. "What is it Eries?"
"I was just looking in on you." The younger princess replied. "You've been in here for several hours. Is there something wrong with the dress?"
"No...no." Marlene shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "The dress is fine, Eries."
"Then is it that boy I let in for you last night?" Eries asked, her intuition into the affairs of her older sibling surprisingly accurate.
"I...yes." The older princess conceded.
"What's wrong exactly, Marlene? You can tell me." Eries insisted, entering the room and closing the door for privacy's sake. "I won't tell anyone."
The elder princess considered her sister for a moment. "Eries...that boy...his name is Allen Schezar, he's a knight in the military. I...we...are lovers."
Eries' eyes widened. "I was afraid of that...Marlene, how could you? You are betrothed to the Duke!"
"I know! I know." Marlene professed, closing her eyes and shaking her head in exasperation as she made her way over to her white-lacquered vanity. She sat down huffily on the seat where she had been last night, just as Natal had arrived on the veranda. "It was stupid of me to do that...but...I..."
"Go on..." Eries prodded, taking a seat quietly on the edge of the bed.
"You remember the suggestion Meiden made to father about dealing with that Sky Dragon?" Marlene asked, and seeing her sister's affirming nod, continued. "Allen...he wants to slay the beast himself. He hopes that if he were to become a Knight Caeli that father might reconsider my betrothal to the Duke and allow us to marry. I...I was afraid that he might die before we could be together, so..."
"You...last night..." Eries finished the thought, effectively, if not completely.
"Yes!" Marlene cried, ashamed at having revealed it to her sister already.
"Oh...Marlene..." Eries stood and walked over to her. She embraced her sister, hoping that the contact might console her.
"Why...?" Marlene sobbed, tears rolling down her pale cheeks like a woodland stream, down a winding path before emptying into the sea-green of Eries' dress' shoulder. "Why did I do it? Why...?"
* * *
Eries tried to hold back her emotions. She couldn't give in and cry for her sister's lost innocence...she had to be strong and supportive...she had to deny her feelings to help Marlene deal with hers. Her empathic sadness, and her shame for her sister's acts were hard to keep down, forming a tight knot in her throat that blocked any comforting words she might have offered. Finally, the younger sister managed to speak. "Marlene...you can't afford to fall apart now. Everyone will be waiting down in the dining room..." No sooner had she spoken than she regretted having said it. It was cold and callous to say such a thing.
Before she could apologize, Marlene replied, reigning in her sobs slowly. "Yes...yes...you're right Eries...I have to compose myself...I have to put up a strong front, to be the princess that I am..."
The younger princess felt almost sick as she heard this. How can she say that? She thought miserably. How can she be so hard on herself after what's happened? She's brought dishonor to the Aston family by having an affair...how can she simply shrug off such a thing? Oh, Jichia, please take pity on her! Eries' was beside herself, torn between the strict ethics and standards which she held for her family and the sympathy and goodwill toward her sister, she didn't know what to think or feel. Through her own emotional turmoil, she spoke once more in the cold, dispassionate tone. "You had best wash your face, Marlene...we can't have you seen with streaks across your pretty face..."
Marlene nodded, gently pushing Eries back and walking to the small bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. As Eries sat numbly on the floor next to the vacant stool, she heard the splashing of water as Marlene washed away her tears. Moments later, she emerged once more, her face somewhat flushed, but well on its way to normalcy. She breathed deeply, steadying her nerves. "Thank you, sister." She said in a readily strengthening voice. "I needed that."
"You are welcome." Eries replied, utterly appalled that she had been so cold-hearted to her sister, and ashamed that she had seen it as a favor.
"Oh, Eries!" Marlene exclaimed. "I cried all over your dress!"
Eries looked down at the wet stain on her shoulder, an area of darkness on the sea-green fabric that stood out like a sore thumb. "It is okay, Marlene. I shall just change, that's all."
"Eries..." Marlene was now calmed as she gazed with those lavender-blue eyes at her. "Thank you for being there for me...for pointing me in the right direction." She embraced her gently. "I couldn't ask for a better sister..."
Eries felt that sick feeling increase by a hundred fold. No, Marlene, don't thank me! All I've done is get you to put aside the problem, I haven't helped you deal with anything at all! Don't thank me! She thought, but it came out as: "Nor could I..."
Marlene broke her hold and made for the door. "I suppose I should head down to the dining room."
"Go on," the younger princess replied. "I'll catch up in a minute."
Marlene exited the room, closing the door lightly behind her, leaving Eries to consider the mess that she had just made even worse.
* * *
Every bit of the walls not taken up by a window or door was lined with a series of shelves and racks which housed his library. Hundreds, if not thousands of leather-bound volumes and ancient scrolls occupied every possible space, some of them so old that they outdated the kingdom of Asturia itself. Meiden prided himself at having one of the greatest libraries on Gaea, his only rival for the title being his own son, Dryden.
In addition to the manuscripts, he also had a large accumulation of maps. An old, yellowed globe of Gaea sat on the right hand corner of his desk, serving as a paperweight for a stack of out of date maps and charts. On the left corner, another pile, this one of more accurate, modern maps, was being held down by a pile of small, burlap bags containing the shining gold pieces which he kept nearby at all times. Though Meiden was rich, his assets were tied up in investments of his mercantile business, and thus he had only a relatively small amount of gold in his possession, making it all the more precious to him.
In fact, Meiden loved money. Not love in the sense of a companion, but as in the goal of his existence. Born to a long line of merchants that could trace its lineage back to before Gaea was created, he was literally born to make money. And that he had. As the head of the most powerful trade organization on Gaea, and the richest private citizen in Asturia, he had attained a position in the nobility. That prestige had earned him the position of the King's most trusted advisor. So great was his influence that King Aston had agreed to betroth his youngest daughter Millerna to Dryden. Thus, Meiden's son would become the next King of Asturia. That fact gave him almost as much pride for his son as he had for his own accomplishments.
At that moment in time, Meiden sat in a dark red, leather chair behind his desk. A crystalline goblet filled with a fine vinor in his left hand. He sipped it periodically, enjoying the comforting sweetness of the liquor. He ran his right hand through his thick black beard, considering his options for the day's activities. He gazed out of the nearest of the windows, to see the white-washed surface of the palace walls in the distance. The warm sunlight felt pleasant against his dark, weathered skin, and he elected to simply sit back in his chair and laze the day away.
As he did so, there was a sharp, precise rap on the office door. "Come" Meiden called out, sitting up straight, putting the glass of vinor into a convenient, open drawer, and grabbed one of the maps from his desk in what seemed to be one fluid motion. When his aide opened the massive red wooden door, he saw what he believed to be his master hard at work planning his next financial endeavor. Meiden, after all, had a reputation as a tireless, economic master to uphold.
Looking up from the map as if he had been interrupted from his study, he asked curtly: "What?"
"Someone here to see you milord." the aide, a rat-man informed him. "A knight, I believe. He says that he is here to apply for a guymelef piloting position."
"What guymelef piloting position?" Meiden thought aloud, having already forgotten the suggestion he had made yesterday.
"He mentioned something about slaying a Sky Dragon, master." The rat-man provided.
Realization dawned on him like the morning sun on a desert. "Ah...yes. Now I remember. Send him in, would you?"
"Yes, milord." The aide inclined his head and retreated back into the antechamber.
Moments later, the door swung open once more, this time admitting a muscular fellow, with coal black hair, clad in informal garb that marked him as a common knight. Although he did not look particularly dashing or heroic, he seemed to have a capable aura. "Lord Meiden?" The knight inquired hesitantly, as if in doubt of his own presence.
"Yes. And who might you be?" The merchant answered with what he assumed was an appropriately modulated tone considering the relatively low status of his audience.
"Gaddes, sir." The soldier stated. "I've come to ask about that position I heard about, the guymelef piloting one? I heard that you needed a pilot to go kill that Sky Dragon."
"Where did you hear of this?" Meiden asked, curious as to how word had filtered down to such a low-level knight in such a short time.
Gaddes cleared his throat and straightened his vest self-consciously before replying. "I...uh...heard it from a messenger I met at the Garusan restaurant."
Meiden contained his instinct to bristle at the statement. Messengers were never to divulge information to others outside the Court, and doing so was a crime punishable by demotion. "Who was this messenger, then?"
"Maketto...yeah I'm pretty sure that's what he said his name was." The soldier's reply came in a hesitant voice. "I haven't done anything wrong, have I?"
"Oh, no, no." Meiden reassured him. "It's simply that the job was merely a suggestion I made to the King. You see, King Aston has yet to approve that course of action. I'm afraid that the messenger you speak of was premature in his informing you."
"Oh." Gaddes said simply, not sure how to take the news. "Well...I guess that's that. I suppose I should go now."
Meiden watched thoughtfully as the young knight turned to leave, and was slightly empathetic. "Wait..."
Gaddes turned to face him with a confused look.
"Gaddes, isn't it?" Meiden asked, having almost forgotten the name.
He nodded.
"I apologize for the inconvenience, I had no idea that word had spread about the Sky Dragon's attack, let alone my plans for dealing with it. I would like to make it up to you."
"How's that?" Gaddes inquired, his coal-black brows furrowed in confusion.
"Perhaps the position could still be open. If you're still interested, that is..."
"Yes sir!" The knight's expression brightened slightly.
Meiden chuckled. "You see, I have several guymelefs, but as you know, no one to pilot them. The one that I was thinking of employing to destroy the Dragon is in the Eastern Sun warehouse on the far side of the city. It's a fine machine, but I'm afraid that it sustained some damage in a battle prior to my purchase of it." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "If you were to repair it for me...you know, bang out some dents, test it out, and whatnot, I might be able to convince King Aston to follow through with my idea. If so, then you would already have guymelef ready, and would be the first in line for the position. Also, in the event of King Aston's refusal, I will compensate you for your effort with a payment of 300 ----------."
"Three hundred?" Gaddes' eye's enlarged.
Meiden smiled wider, knowing full well that the young man was considering the implications of a full month's salary being offered to him for a simple repair job. "I take it you are satisfied with that offer?"
"Yes, milord!" Gaddes agreed readily.
"Excellent. Report to the Eastern Sun warehouse tomorrow morning then." Meiden watched the young man leave with a pleased grin. Not many could have come up with such an ingenious win-win solution to a problem on the spot, and he was quite proud of himself. Reaching into the drawer, he picked up the goblet of vinor he had deftly hidden there and took a sip. Marvelous he thought of both himself and the liquor. However, what he failed to realize was the even more marvelous thing: that he had just given an eighteen-year-old young man the means to either gain tremendous prestige, or a horrible death.
* * *
Marlene stood before a full-length mirror in her room, gazing at her own reflected image. She was wearing a new dress, an elegant one of pink and white with a low-cut neck, ruffles at the shoulders, and at the hem of the dress, which just barely reached the ground. Lace adorned the skirt and the neckline, a soft white only slightly more ivory than her skin. A necklace hung around her neck, a large amethyst at the vertex of a pearl parabola. Elbow-length gloves of the same white lace as the dress served as a background to bracelets of the same pearls and amethysts. Taken together, it was a beautiful ensemble that complemented her light complexion and soft, lavender-blue eyes.
Although she was gazing directly at the mirror, her own appearance was the last thing on her mind. Ever since the night before, her mind had been a whirl. Thoughts of her lover flooded her mind like a storm, each memory and idea like another rush of water bursting forth to push away all other thoughts. That night, she and Allen had done something that she had always thought that she wanted, something she had always known was to happen between them, but now she felt differently.
It had been wrong, she knew. It violated everything that Allen's code dictated, and defied the honor of the Aston family. Worse yet, she realized that they had done what they did for the wrong reasons. She had been afraid of never having the chance to experience Allen, afraid of what they might never be able to do if he were to die in this mission of his. Now, she realized that it could have been a more tragic mistake not to wait.
At the same time, that fear was still there. The fear of losing him; the fear that they would never be together again; the fear that Allen would merely fail, leaving her with no option but to marry the Duke of Fried; all of these fears welled up inside of her, and combined into a sickening feeling. She felt that her fear was a Sky Dragon of its own, a formidable beast that terrorized the countryside of her soul.
She let out her fear in a long, shaky sigh, but in doing so, it allowed another emotion, doubt to creep up on her. Why Allen? She asked mentally. Why do you have to jeopardize everything we have on such a stupid venture? Why did you ask me to speak to Meiden for you? Why did you have to involve me in this at all? The answers she sought were not forthcoming.
As she continued her introspection, she heard the faraway sound of her chamber's door opening. "Marlene?" A questioning voice asked from the door.
She turned away from the mirror to look upon her little sister, Eries, middle of the three Asturian Princesses, also dressed in a formal gown. "What is it Eries?"
"I was just looking in on you." The younger princess replied. "You've been in here for several hours. Is there something wrong with the dress?"
"No...no." Marlene shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "The dress is fine, Eries."
"Then is it that boy I let in for you last night?" Eries asked, her intuition into the affairs of her older sibling surprisingly accurate.
"I...yes." The older princess conceded.
"What's wrong exactly, Marlene? You can tell me." Eries insisted, entering the room and closing the door for privacy's sake. "I won't tell anyone."
The elder princess considered her sister for a moment. "Eries...that boy...his name is Allen Schezar, he's a knight in the military. I...we...are lovers."
Eries' eyes widened. "I was afraid of that...Marlene, how could you? You are betrothed to the Duke!"
"I know! I know." Marlene professed, closing her eyes and shaking her head in exasperation as she made her way over to her white-lacquered vanity. She sat down huffily on the seat where she had been last night, just as Natal had arrived on the veranda. "It was stupid of me to do that...but...I..."
"Go on..." Eries prodded, taking a seat quietly on the edge of the bed.
"You remember the suggestion Meiden made to father about dealing with that Sky Dragon?" Marlene asked, and seeing her sister's affirming nod, continued. "Allen...he wants to slay the beast himself. He hopes that if he were to become a Knight Caeli that father might reconsider my betrothal to the Duke and allow us to marry. I...I was afraid that he might die before we could be together, so..."
"You...last night..." Eries finished the thought, effectively, if not completely.
"Yes!" Marlene cried, ashamed at having revealed it to her sister already.
"Oh...Marlene..." Eries stood and walked over to her. She embraced her sister, hoping that the contact might console her.
"Why...?" Marlene sobbed, tears rolling down her pale cheeks like a woodland stream, down a winding path before emptying into the sea-green of Eries' dress' shoulder. "Why did I do it? Why...?"
* * *
Eries tried to hold back her emotions. She couldn't give in and cry for her sister's lost innocence...she had to be strong and supportive...she had to deny her feelings to help Marlene deal with hers. Her empathic sadness, and her shame for her sister's acts were hard to keep down, forming a tight knot in her throat that blocked any comforting words she might have offered. Finally, the younger sister managed to speak. "Marlene...you can't afford to fall apart now. Everyone will be waiting down in the dining room..." No sooner had she spoken than she regretted having said it. It was cold and callous to say such a thing.
Before she could apologize, Marlene replied, reigning in her sobs slowly. "Yes...yes...you're right Eries...I have to compose myself...I have to put up a strong front, to be the princess that I am..."
The younger princess felt almost sick as she heard this. How can she say that? She thought miserably. How can she be so hard on herself after what's happened? She's brought dishonor to the Aston family by having an affair...how can she simply shrug off such a thing? Oh, Jichia, please take pity on her! Eries' was beside herself, torn between the strict ethics and standards which she held for her family and the sympathy and goodwill toward her sister, she didn't know what to think or feel. Through her own emotional turmoil, she spoke once more in the cold, dispassionate tone. "You had best wash your face, Marlene...we can't have you seen with streaks across your pretty face..."
Marlene nodded, gently pushing Eries back and walking to the small bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. As Eries sat numbly on the floor next to the vacant stool, she heard the splashing of water as Marlene washed away her tears. Moments later, she emerged once more, her face somewhat flushed, but well on its way to normalcy. She breathed deeply, steadying her nerves. "Thank you, sister." She said in a readily strengthening voice. "I needed that."
"You are welcome." Eries replied, utterly appalled that she had been so cold-hearted to her sister, and ashamed that she had seen it as a favor.
"Oh, Eries!" Marlene exclaimed. "I cried all over your dress!"
Eries looked down at the wet stain on her shoulder, an area of darkness on the sea-green fabric that stood out like a sore thumb. "It is okay, Marlene. I shall just change, that's all."
"Eries..." Marlene was now calmed as she gazed with those lavender-blue eyes at her. "Thank you for being there for me...for pointing me in the right direction." She embraced her gently. "I couldn't ask for a better sister..."
Eries felt that sick feeling increase by a hundred fold. No, Marlene, don't thank me! All I've done is get you to put aside the problem, I haven't helped you deal with anything at all! Don't thank me! She thought, but it came out as: "Nor could I..."
Marlene broke her hold and made for the door. "I suppose I should head down to the dining room."
"Go on," the younger princess replied. "I'll catch up in a minute."
Marlene exited the room, closing the door lightly behind her, leaving Eries to consider the mess that she had just made even worse.
* * *