Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Papa.” I smiled and let go of my brother to embrace my father, hugging him tightly as if I were the child of twelve rather than Hector.
“We have missed you, my dearest,” he replied and kissed the side of my head before stepping back to look me over. A smile spread across his white face. “A vision. More and more, you take after your mother. One would think I had nothing to do with the creation of you.”
“Then one would not know me, Papa, for are we not alike in mind?”
“That we are. Thus, I have this,” he replied, lifting the book so I could see. “It was very well received last winter, and I could think of no one else who would truly appreciate it.”
It was in German, but the title roughly translated to Children’s and Household Tales, by the Brothers Grimm. What a strange name. It was true I dearly loved to read, no matter the language, but the books that enticed me would not be given to a daughter by her father, nor would they have the word children’s anywhere upon the cover. Nevertheless, his joy in giving me the gift increased my joy in receiving it.
“Thank you, Papa. I shall begin this very night—”
“You shall not!” her voice bellowed and caused both my father and me to stand ready.
Upon turning, I was met with the fiercest of women, dressed in the richest of purples and all other finery, her skin a deep and warm brown like mine and Damon’s. Her dark, curly hair was pinned up and away from her face.
“My love—”
“Again, with the books?” my mother interrupted him to say.
“They are mere children’s tales.” He sought to brush off the matter.
“Tales in which she shall be engrossed all night, leaving her looking as if she were daft or addlepated come sunrise.”
“Mama! I have only just arrived and have yet to read even a single page. Must you be so severe?” I exclaimed.
“Yes. As your mother, it is my duty, for tomorrow is far too important.” She stepped closer to me, cupping my cheek. “Welcome my dear. There is so much to prepare.”
“I was under the impression that the preparation was for Hathor?” My father sought only to save me and was rewarded with a harsh glare from my mother, which made him pull Hector in front of himself as though the boy were his shield.
As I grew older, I learned that the relationship between my parents was anything but conventional. Most husbands I had observed sought to avoid arguments with their wives. Father seemed to revel in battling with Mother, though he had yet to land a victory in their nearly thirty years of marriage. I could not fathom why it brought him such joy to annoy and tease her. But it did.
“The preparations for Hathor have long since concluded. Now I must focus my attention on this one.” She lifted my chin with the edge of her finger, examining my face. “You have indulged in cakes.”
“I have not!” I lied.
“She shall ruin me!” My sister Hathor stood at the very center of the stairs, her shoulders slouched, messy brown curls now beautifully styled and full of blue ribbons. “Mama, Papa, send her back. This is meant to be my season! Who is going to call upon me when she is here, looking as she does? If this is her after a long journey, imagine the uproar she will cause well rested.”
“She shall be the most handsome in the ton, and you shall be utterly forgotten.” Abena, my youngest sister, giggled as she skipped down the stairs, hand in hand with our other sister Devana, whose blonde curls bounced freely on her way to me.
Of us all, Devana was the only one with white skin, blue eyes, and golden hair, taking after Father as completely as Damon and I had taken after our mother. Hector, Hathor, and Abena were different degrees between them, though Hathor’s eyes were more the color of honey.
“What have I told you?” our mother replied, turning to my sister. “Beauty is magnified when surrounded by beauty. Now come here and welcome your sister.”
Hathor glowered, marching down as if she were going to meet an archenemy and not her sister. “Odite,” she said to me.
“Hathor,” I replied in turn.
We stared each other down.
“Would it have been such a burden for you to eat more cake?” She pouted.
“Even if I were to become as round as a pig, I doubt that would hinder the loveliness of my appearance,” I jested.
She spun around to shriek. “Send her back at once!”
I laughed and hugged her, kissing her cheek. “I have missed you, sister, and from your numerous missives, I am well aware you have missed me, too. Even if you should not admit it.”
“I know not what you mean. I merely sought to keep you informed of the ton should you be bored.”