Sisters of String and Glass, Part 39

This week’s snippets will be a little uneven simply because of the way the chapter was written. It’s also the chapter where some of my characters got the upper hand on me. Definitely not nice of them. But it also has one of my favorite scenes. Happy reading!

Chapter Eleven

My sister was completely taken in by the girl. She didn’t say much, but seemed to see so much more than a normal child. She spoke frequently of this twin of hers, said she was in a deep sleep and could not be woken. My sister gathered the girl’s sister had died during childbirth. But the strangest thing was the girl’s mother and father refused to speak of this with my sister, and ended up pulling their daughter from my sister’s side. After that, the townspeople slowly began to refuse to associate with my sister, eventually driving her from the town and back into the forest.

The Prince and Princess had kept Muriel waiting and fretting for three days, three days during which she either stormed through the halls or withdrew to her rooms. Three days during which Camille had willingly put herself at Muriel’s disposal to shield her sister, to try to ensure Muriel forgot about the young woman who had assisted her after the disastrous soiree.

Camille, at least, had heard from Andalissa. Muriel had been the talk of the soiree after their departure. Very little of it was flattering, but most of the remaining guests were sympathetic to her and Abigail. Andalissa’s note had been full of humor, so Camille knew her friend had gotten a good laugh and a reprieve from the quiet dignity her parents always pressed on her.

Camille had replied with relish: a request to her friend to ask her parents to delay responding to Muriel. Andalissa had been more than happy to acquiesce. But, finally, Muriel had received her answer.

The new Countess Olidan was to host the Prince and Princess. In three days’ time.

The manor was thrown into disarray at Muriel’s frequent, often competing, requests. Abigail bemoaned the fact that the kitchens had never been busier, her arms had never ached more from mixing, baking, and decorating. But, because she had been so frazzled and exhausted, she had been able to blend in with the rest of the kitchen staff so Muriel barely glanced at her when she charged into the kitchens.

The night before the visit, Camille found Abigail sprawled across her bed, her eyes blinking blankly at the ceiling.

“Abigail?” Camille asked tentatively as she pushed the door closed behind her.

“I may never move again,” Abigail murmured, not moving a muscle.

Camille grinned and flopped down beside her sister. She groaned and stretched, her muscles protesting, but she has certain nothing had ever felt better.

“It’ll be all over tomorrow,” Camille said.

“Yes. But then we’ll be back to the same Muriel.”

“At least we’ll know what to expect.”

“I suppose,” Abigail murmured just before yawning.

Camille smiled and pushed herself up. “Would you like me to help you prepare for bed?”

Abigail shot her a glare, but it quickly lost it’s ire as another yawn overcame her. She threw and arm over her eyes and said, “No, thank you. I’ll manage. Besides, it wouldn’t be terrible if I fall asleep right here just like this. It’s not like Mother never fell asleep by the fire, fully dressed.”

Camille nodded, though her sister couldn’t see. With a groan, she pushed herself off the bed, murmured a quiet good night, and silently left Abigail’s room.

Catch up on Sisters of String and Glass

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