Winter was woken up that night by the soft patter of tiny feet. At first, she tried to ignore them, but their scurrying soon wore her down, and she let out a whimper. That little tune was playing again; so loud, nearly too loud to be in her head. She sat up and brushed the hair back from her face...and stopped. Her entire body froze.
On the floor, there were four little mice shuffling about, picking at the sides of her bed, probably in search of food. Winter managed to keep herself from screaming, but her heart still beat furiously in her chest. The creatures, instead of scampering, jumped about like grasshoppers, squeaking. Her fingers trembling from shock, Winter inched closer to the edge of her bed, careful not to put her feet on the ground.
Not two seconds after she did so, the mice turned to look at her all at once. She let out a squeak of her own. The mice broke out in a run, tripping over each other to escape the princess' gaze. Winter instantly tore the covers away and began to chase the rodents, a new determination in her eyes. The ditty still played in the back of her mind, an unending annoyance. She followed them into the parlour, through the faint glow of the lamps, until they slipped in behind the little door, that was still open a crack.
Winter managed a little laugh. "You're trapped now, Mousies," she crooned. The tune was even louder now. It seemed like it was coming from behind that door...Winter grit her teeth and opened it up completely. A horrible groaning sound came from the hinges. There, she knew, she would find the mice trapped against the broken bricks and regolith wall. She braced herself for when they would try to run again.
Except they didn't. She didn't feel their little feet tearing through her skin in their haste to get away. Instead, she felt a sort of pleasant breeze wafting around her, with the smell of something sweet. The song suddenly stopped, and there was nothing but dead silence in its wake. Winter let out a gasp as she opened her eyes and took in the sight of the glowing tunnel that lay just beyond the doorway. It seemed to be made from some sort of fabric but held tight against Winter's weight. She put a hand on it, terrified, but at the same time, filled with wonder and excitement. She stayed there for a moment, on her knees, waiting for when she would wake up from her dream and there would once again be only a wall behind that little door.
The tunnel continued to glow. Smiling, Winter took a deep breath and slipped in through the threshold. The tunnel's fabric was soft against her knees, covered by the long skirt of her nightgown. The entire journey was a nerve-wracking one; at last, she was going on an adventure. She was leaving through her secret exit. Winter couldn't help but feel happy, even through the fear.
Breathe in, breathe out.
She could see the end of the passage, where an identical small door stood cracked open, just like the one in her room. She climbed up through it, beyond excited, her mind flooded with thoughts of what this new place looked like. Maybe it was an ocean paradise, with mermaids. Maybe it was a cozy little house. Maybe...
It was just her parlour.
She found herself sitting on the big pink rug, in the octagonal room, with the little door cracked open behind her. "Oh, come on!" Winter cried, throwing her hands in the air.
A cry of despair escaped her and she crumpled to the ground. She was just hallucinating now. Perhaps she should go back to bed and forget about the mice and the door and the doll...the doll that she had left behind. She only then noticed that her little companion hadn't tagged along. But her thoughts lingered on that for only a moment; she quickly noticed one of the mice standing by the door to her bedroom. All thoughts of hallucinations were forgotten. A determined smile on her face, she rose to her feet and dashed after the small animal with a great ferocity in her blood. That stupid mouse would stop bothering her now—
The mouse quickly turned around and darted out a different door, one that leads to the hallway. Winter didn't even think of the guards that could've been standing right before her, ready to grab her at any moment. She continued to run. She would not be swayed from her objective.
She found the hallway to be dark and deserted. Her heart hammering, she searched in vain for the mouse, but there no longer any trace of the little thing. Winter crossed her arms over her chest, her unhappiness settling like a rock in her gut.
Suddenly, there was humming. It was the same tune that had plagued her for the last insufferable while, but not made by the squeaks of rodents. No, it was the gentle hum of a woman. Sweet and tender, it made the chill in Winter's bones fade away. She wiped at her angry tears and tiptoed further down the hall—as she did so, some soft lights came on, and she noticed something distressing. The hallway was identical to the one in the palace, but it also wasn't. The colours seemed brighter. The flowers seemed to be more in bloom. The gold and silver and diamonds sparkled in a way that they never did back home.
The woman's song was quite loud now, and Winter came to a stop in front of the door it was coming from. She recognized this place: it was the entrance to her stepmother's private study. Winter had never been inside that room—she knew better than to even ask. Gulping, she gently laid a flat palm against the carved regolith door. The humming didn't stop. It was enticing, as if Winter were being beckoned to enter.
She knocked.
The singing stopped. After a moment, the voice replied, "Come in!"
Winter clutched the handle tightly and pulled the door open. The room inside was well light and cheerful; beautiful paintings of space lined the walls, and the windows were wide open, providing a gorgeous view of the sparkling city below the palace. The scent of roses and sweetness wafted through the air. In the fireplace, a pleasant little flame burned along peacefully...and beside this fire sat the woman, reading a book. Her head was lowered, although Winter couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched.
Winter took a step forward and cleared her throat. "Stepmother?"
The woman looked up, a pretty smile on her face. As she stood, Winter could see that she wore the exact same gown that she distinctly remembered seeing on Levana that particular day; red, lacy, with a hem that seemed to float on the floor. She didn't look anything like Levana, though—her skin was of a lovely tanned hue, her hair a rich brown that fell to her hips without so much as a curl. She was shorter and thinner, much thinner than the Levana she knew. She kind of looked like a child.
But that was not the weird part.
For this woman had buttons instead of eyes. Big, black, shiny buttons, that seemed to have been sewn directly into her skin, onto her face. Just like the ones on the doll.
Horrified, Winter put a hand over her mouth.
"Good evening, Winter," the woman said sweetly. "You're just in time for supper, the cook tells me."
Winter jutted a finger toward her. "You're not Levana," she accused. "My stepmother doesn't have...buh...buh—"
"—buh-buttons?" The woman chuckled. "Do you like them? I'm the other Levana, silly." She put a hand to her chest.
Winter puckered her lips. "I don't believe you."
"You don't? Well, that's quite a shame. But whether you believe it or not, supper is still ready. It'll get cold if we make it wait for us." The Other Levana smiled. "Why don't you pass that message along to your Other Father, dear?"
When Winter didn't move, the Other Levana let out a sigh. "Go on! He should be in his rooms. You know where those are, don't you?"
"In the guard's wing?"
A sweet laugh. "Of course not! They're next to mine," said the Other Levana.
Winter's flesh was coated in goosebumps. "Yes...of course. I'll be going now." She couldn't help the tears that pricked at the back of her eyes as she made her retreat. She could feel the Other Levana's button eyes fixed to her back. Never had she felt more anxious, even under her stepmother's melting glare.
The study was not far from the royal apartments; Winter barely escaped the woman's stare by her venture. The door to the Other Father's room was closed, like every other door in every hallway in this fake palace. Winter stood, gathered her courage and pushed it open.
She was greeted with the joyous smile of Evret Hayle, who sat, comfortably, on a cushioned bench. In front of him, there was an elegant grand piano. "He-llo, Winter!"
All of Winter's blood rushed to her toes. He was there, in the flesh. Her beloved father. She didn't even mind the eerie smile or the buttons sewn into his face. She let out a great sob and flung herself into his arms. "Papa..." she wailed, her tears surely staining his expensive-looking sweater.
"Woah, kiddo...you're going to dry up if you keep on crying like that."
Winter pulled away and attempted, in vain, to staunch the flow of her tears. "I've missed you, Papa...I've missed you so much..."
"I've missed you too, kiddo. It wasn't the same here without you."
She sniffed. Now, the surprise having dulled, she took a look around the room. It was nothing like the room her father had lived in; instead of impersonal, it was colourful, fancy, lively...
It was wrong.
She cocked her head to the side. "Since when do you play the piano?"
The Other Evret let out a chuckle. "Oh, I don't. Why bother, when it's the piano that plays me?"
He pushed something that Winter couldn't see, and suddenly, a couple of robotic hands burst forth from the lid of the piano. They slipped onto his own like they were gloves. Winter jumped back and let out a gasp.
"You wanna hear my new song?"
Winter pursed her lips, but smiled nonetheless. "Okay."
The hands jumped down on the keyboard and began to dance along the ivory keys. The instrument seemed to come to life. Evret moved from side to side, his arms propelled by the robot. All while he sang loudly, perfectly in tune.
Makin' up a song about you, Winter,
You're a peach, you're a doll, you're my sweet daughter
You're as cute as a button in the eyes of anyone who ever laid their eyes on you, Winter!
When you come around exploring Mom and I will never ever make it boring
Our eyes will be on you, Winter!
The Other Evret finished, smiled, and rested his chin on one hand. Winter could tell that he was expecting a reaction, but she could only manage a glazed look. She gulped. "Step-...uh...she said to tell you that supper's ready."
"Ah, yes. Who's starving, raise your hands!" He laughed as the piano hands flew up; this lifted him somewhat off his seat.
Winter let out a giggle. It was sort of funny, she thought. Once she got past the surrealness of the scenario.
The Other Evret stood gallantly, a goofy smile on his face. "Shall we go?"
Winter's stomach suddenly rumbled—she had forgone a meal again that night. There was no way she was swallowing that chard.
"Yes," she decided. "It's off to supper now."
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Banana Kisses~