For the Love of My Sister

[gothicwords]

At sunrise Alexi arose, to sit down at her black lacquered desk. In only her robe and a pair of overly warn slippers she set to pen the letter she would send to her sister in Amasynian. Laid out on her desk was a pot of blue ink, several pieces of ivory parchment along with the wedding invitation. and her feather quill. She read the invitation again with a deep breath that gave away to her state of sadness regarding the issue.

"Not in this life time my beloved sister. I need you now. There is no man, that important." She said quietly as the sun started to trickle through the window and shimmer off her night robe and it's silver threads.

Her thumb rested in her mouth and she felt the filed nail on the tip of her tongue. She had everything to loose at this point, and her family she would not. And so she wrote.

My Beloved Sister Messina,

I pen this letter my sweet, sweet sister with tears of regret. I fear I must forbid you to marry Lord Edric Reginald. For our name is at stake Messina. Father's name. The very House of Rose has been threatened to be undone. Since I have returned home to Mryken, I have taken up residence at Castle Rose. Our Home. And though I know you are aware of the bewitched state the castle has fallen under I request that you come at once. Together we can see her restored. Together we can rebuild Rose Justice and clear our good name.

There is a force upon the move through the land. A war is about to break loose between man and beast. I leave you with three days to explain to Edric that you must leave. Lie if you must. Tell him you will return to him after the war. What ever you do, hurry. It is of great importance that we are together again. There is no love greater than ours. There is no man who is greater than that love.

At dusk on the end of the thirday my carriage will arrive to see that your things are collected and that your journey is a safe one. I would come myself but I am in no condition to travel such a distance. Once you are here, I shall explain everything.

I can give you no more than three days and two nights my love.

Until I see thee face to face and we are together again.

Thy Sister of the Wind

Alexi

She blew on the ink before she creased the letter and poured the wax over the crease. Stamping it with the ruby ring that embedded a rose into the hot wax.

[emmy]

Messina Rose received word from her sister as she was being fitted for her wedding dress. The messenger arrived, waiting awkwardly by the door as she shooed away the seamstress and waded forward to accept the parchment. A varied assortment of pins pricked her sides, tucked carefully into the folds of her pale silk gown.

“Who sends you?” she inquired with haste, wishing simply to get the dress sized and return for lunch.

“Milady Alexi Rose,” the unsure boy answered, fishing into his bag to procure the sealed envelope. Messina reached forward and snatched it from his fingers.

She held the letter within trembling fingers, looking down upon it with an uncertain gaze. Oh, how she had longed to hear from one of her dear sisters; but had it been some cruel punishment from fate that the occasion presented itself now, just days before her wedding? She looked up from the yet un-opened paper and glanced at her reflection in the narrow, gilded mirror before her. Her gown gleamed, rich in needless, gaudy decoration. It flowed in a pool of crème past her feet, the train peppered in gold embroidery to match the embellishments along the bodice of her dress.

And her pale green eyes soaked up this vision of perfection in greedy, longing delight. This is what she was, what she deserved – nobility, wealth, security. Reginald could give back all of that, simply by the arrangements of this marriage. True, she would lose everything else that she had – but what, in all honestly, did she have of much worth from her past life? A wrecked, tarnished name? The years of debt her father had left them as a parting gift? She did not look back upon any of that lightly.

But now Alexi had returned from her lengthy trip at sea, and Messina suddenly found herself in a predicament. The seal was broken with the tip of her nail, wax curling beneath it like a line of rich, dark blood. And with an unsteady breath – one of uncertainty, thrill, and anticipation – she read the lacy prose that she found within.

Promptly, she cast the letter aside. Messina would agree to no such thing – abandoning her last chance at retaining her riches? Old age, after all, was fast approaching – and what if Edric would not accept her back? There were far younger and prettier women in the land, and she did not take this knowledge for granted.

Instead, she chose not to heed the words of Alexi. Myrken Wood was so far away – and she was so pampered and sheltered from worry in this new, if not so exciting, life. Let her sister send for her things, and let her react to the empty carriage when it returns without luggage or sister. Messina was soon to be The Lady Edric Reginald, and the sudden worries that her sister had decided to place upon her would do little to change that fact.

“You may return,” Messina states to the messenger with the wave of a carefully manicured hand. “Simply inform my sister that I received her letter. And tell her that I was fitting my wedding dress.”

Ignoring the sick flutter of her heart, Messina called for the return of her seamstress and took another look at her reflection in the mirror, paying no attention to the curl of paper discarded at her feet. But, all the same, she could not swallow back the sudden lump that had formed in her throat…

[gothicwords]

How far would you go to track them in their lies Alexi? It was a question she was asking herself a great deal these days. A question she asked herself even then at her table, enjoying a bit of dessert. The bell sounded at the front door of the manor. She released the fork that was covered in dark raspberry liquor and gave it one last lick. Her chamber doors were unlocked; chambers which are hidden away in that secret but safe cove of her Manor. Once out that door she literally ran through the other dark, and unforgiving rooms until she reached the door that lead to the front entrance of her home, unlocking it and also tugged it open.

The gust of air sent back her dishelved hair, she had yet to even brush it through since the night of her disappearance. There stood the young man with a look of worry on his face. Perhaps it was due more because of the appearance of the woman before him. His brow shot up like lightening as he nearly gasped. She stepped out of the house all together closing and locking the door behind her. They stood facing each other. She listened to the words that Messina had given the messenger in regards to her letter.

"Her wedding gown Madam Rose." he finished saying as his arms folded behind his back. He darted off the stone step leading to that wide entrance of Castle Rose just to get a good look up at Alexi.

The woman he gazed upon was wearing a pair of breeches! Leather riding gear covered every curve of lthe lower half of her feminie form and lay flush against the front of her protruding hipbone. A red sash had been tied about her neck and waved over her shoulder in the brisk spring breeze that caressed both his and her flesh. All off set by this romantic white blouse she hadn't quite buttoned all the way left to flap in the wind against what appeared to be a bandaged rib cage and unbound breasts. Her eyes were as deep and hollow as he had ever seen them. She had a gaunt appearance in her expression as if though she had not slept in a number of days. Marked by dark circles and a ghastly arrangement of hair. The trail of it leading down her spine had been left for some time simply tied in a knot at the nap of her neck. The chestnut layers of her front curling locks licked out and tasted her jaw as they were never accustomed to doing.

"Roger? " She asked with a flare of nostril and an actual push of her hand through the front spance of her unkempt portion of hair.

"Don't look at me like that. It isn't proper." The words twisted off her mouth with a sarcastic wink.

He had seen this side of her before and knew it all to well; For which he followed with a slow bending of his frame at the waist, in a bard like bow. His eyes never left her body; what for him had always been a feminine wonder and mystery, when beheld in such a gothic arrangement of garments. He had seen her like this before and he always enjoyed it more than he should.

"It's nice to see you again Lexi." He smirked still in his bow, his hand swept out to the side, the other behind his back. Alexi had adopted Roger when he was just a small boy, the soul survivor of an advisories vessel Rose Justice had sieged. Adopted by her crew of sailors. He was now about the age of eighteen. He had grown up on Sarah, the largest of her five seaworthy vessels and he had seen her shatter the worlds of others before. He respected that influence she had over people. Something he himself aspired to.

"I suspect she would react this way. It is exactly why I gave her three days; I shall let her stew over it. I know my sister; she will come to her senses.
However, I also know she has a greater love for men than I do. I suppose she has grown used to the life a noble woman enjoys in Amasynion. This is why I want you to give her this."

She had in her hand an envelope. The young man, Roger stood straight and took hold of the object. Yet Alexi did not let go. Her other hand weighed down on his shoulder in a firm grasp.

"It's a note of funds. "I suggest you keep it hidden.” She warned. "You are going to need it. This is what I want you to do."

Her feet moved down the few stone steps and her eye came level to his as she explained what he was to do.


"Take half of it and give it to Messina, take the other half and use it for the things you will need to keep Court up until the wedding. Just in case you have to stay that long."

"I do not think my sister is foolish enough to put her future husband at risk of my wrath. So, knowing this you shall remind her every day where her loyalty lies. You shall see to it that she receives a rose and with it a note with the number of days she has left until I come for her. Which will also be the same number of days up to her wedding. I pray she is not foolish and silly laden with love or the wealth of Lord Eldric that she would put herself in a position to be embarrassed by such an interruption, as I shall cause. "

The little smug look of her eyes and upward turn of pressed lips went to Roger's forehead in a favorable kiss. "Tell her, I love her, and that I am sure she looks beautiful in her wedding gown."

" Be quick Roger, I need my sister at my side."

She bid him Gods Speed and turned retreating into Castle Rose.

[gothicwords]

The letter that Roger would hand to Messina reads as follows:


Messina,

I love you. Here is a small portion of what I spent the past ten years gaining or as some may see it, taking from others. There is no reason for you to worry of wealth or a good name. For you have the noblest name of all. You are the daughter of a Rose; least you forget all that we are.

We cannot waste any more time for time is now a fleeting thing. Our name shall be restored and we shall be a family of the court once more. I will go to every length to see us a Family again. We shall become those that say what is fair within Court Life. You will not be subjected to the games of others for we shall beat them at what they love so much. Manipulation and treachery shall we rise above. Your Lord Edric shall be the last of your desires once we are a family again; there is more power and wealth to be had. I know you recall the days of Castle Rose. I have reclaimed it Messina. We will clear out the ghosts of the past.

You have no idea what crimes I have committed to see to that. The Sea of lies which father sailed to give us what he did, was not paved with Gold My dear sister, but with Blood. I suggest you leave the silly notion of a happy marriage to a man who will give you little more than a warm bed and fine food. I give you until the day of your wedding to come to your senses on this matter. Should you fail I fear I will come for you myself.

Use Roger as you see fitting. He's at your disposal.

I love you.

Your sister

Alexi

[emmy]

Messina was settled at one side of the large, oaken dining table. It was spilt with amber-fingered light from the myriad of candles dotting the center of the table, as well as the large, swollen chandelier that was slung above it all. She leaned into her high-backed chair, and the smooth fabric of her silk taffeta gown rustled against the deeply engraved, wooden backing. She was eating alone, and she languidly pushed her food about her plate, only absently contemplating her next bite.

A cook rushed out with a wheeled cart, and atop it was stacked her heavily-layered wedding cake. It was thickly frosted and embellished with lacings of chocolate along the edge of each layer. Messina looked up and set down her knife and fork.

"Milady," murmured the cook, dipping low at the waist to bow, with a flourish of his arm. "We seek your approval for Milday and Milord Reginald's cake. The Rose petals you requested will be scattered here," the man gestured to where the dark-red petals would grace the smooth white frosting. Messina dipped her head in faint acknowledgement, though her mind was obviously elsewhere. She had received her sister's second letter, and a small frown budded along the soft lines of her petal-fresh lips. Said note was tucked in a clenched hand at her lap of pleated skirts, folded away from the prying eyes of servants. What rumors were already being muttered behind The Lady's back, about her sudden jittery nature these past few days?

"Very good, Theold. As always, you've managed to impress me with your work." A smile - absent, yes, but attempted all the same - snags the worried lines from her pretty features. "As for me, I'm about full. When Edric returns, he may dine by himself as I have." She pushed out from her chair, the lion-head studded feet scooting silently against the lavish red carpeting underfoot, and she moved to exit the dining hall.

* * *

"There's something I'd like to show you." Edric caught up Messina's slender fingers, and his thumb rubbed assuringly against the cool metal of her engagement band. She looked up and smiled, other hand casting back a few coils of smooth, honey-drenched hair. Tomorrow was the last day before her wedding, and she still hadn't been able free herself of the ever-growing knot that had formed in the base of her stomach. At the touch of his hand, it only got worse.

What am I getting myself into? Am I this selfish?

"--What is it, my love?"

"I'm excited about our wedding day," Edric began, continuing to rub her fingers. He looked nervous.

She just couldn't bring herself to trust her sister's word. Their reputation - their Family Name - was just about ruined. One sister dead, the other missing; there simply wasn't anything left to reclaim. And their home: their haunted, lonely home, that groaned in the night, of the deaths of those they had once loved so very long ago.

Alexi must know I can't give this up - I'm doing it for us!

"As am I." Her smile deepened, and she reached her hand forward to touch Edric's cheek.

"And.. there's something I wish to give you." He released her fingers and conjured a long, velvet-encased box from his cloak.

"Oh no, you don't need to give me anything!" She looked at it, hand falling to her chest. Her head was spinning.

"I was going to wait until after we were wed, but I just had to give it to you now." He smiled. More than likely, he too had noted Messina's hesitant nature. Perhaps he was trying to remind her of what she was marrying.

He looked down and carefully unlatched the front of the box, lifting from it a necklace. It was hung with a diamond pendant, sculpted in the shape of a budding Rose. Gently, he turned her to face the mirror before them, so that he could put it on her for her to see. Messina gasped. "I know you're sacrificing so much to be here with me, but I'd never want you to forget who you are. I love you, for who you are who you will become."

His words spun past her in a daze. Messina caught her breath in her throat, and her pale ivy eyes latched upon the mirror as the glimmering bud was slid along her neck, to touch her alabaster flesh with its chilled surface.

And I am in love with him, she decided firmly. In one day, Alexi too will know this.

Messina turned and kissed her betrothed, closing her eyes to a well of confused tears

[gothicwords]

A long stemmed, crimson pedaled rose arrived every day for Messina. The potential harm of razor sharp thorns lining it's green bark. A black ribbon tied in a long flowing bow around the middle of the stem, would arrive for her daily with the parchment of paper numbering the days until her wedding. The fragrant flower was a silent reminder of her older sister.

Every day that passed with out a word from Messina left Alexi feeling more and more empty inside. The emotion had riddled her at the the most at the Captian's Celebration. The silence of her sister was a quiet burden she carried around with her. The reminder of dancing and singing together were so fresh from those many years when all four of them were together at their family home Castle Rose. In the company of the other nobles that night she was forced to remember those former days.

********

"What?!" She took the piece of paper out of the young woman's hand.
"A warrant for my arrest?" The merchant's delinquently dark brow narrowed. Who, by whom? She read the name again and blinked.

"This can not be happening. Rebecca? Burn this. " Alexi slapped the piece of paper back into the hand of the young maiden. She could not be taken in for questioning and the very thought of the gaol made her horrifed. It would take all she had to face such a thing. Not now. Not only a few days before Messina's wedding. She would be leaving to see that her sister did not make the biggest mistake of her life. Warrant or not.

She motioned to the trunks in her chamber. "Have them packed and ready by the morning. We shall leave at daybreak. "

Rebecca was just then kneeling in front of the fire. She had taken the announcement she had found tacked at the center of the Town Square. Placing it into the flame she watched as the corner of it caught a blaze and the flames consumed the entire thing with a hissing sizzle of heat and ash.

"Yes Madam, as you wish." Rebecca knew Alexi was worried. She knew by the way her mistress paced the floor; sure she would create a hole in the floorboards. There were other things as well, the strange cruel edge to her tone lately. The lack of patience and the tense frame of her body never seemed to relax. Ever. So much weighed on her shoulders. Especially the trial of her attacker Phlynn. The hatred displayed by numbers of men and woman, but most hurtful to her was that of Angelina's feelings towards her. Held hostage by the "Prince of Mryken Wood, and no one, not a soul scent correspondance. There was a mad man out there who expected something of her and no one knew who he was or hoped fell pliate to his dealings. She was sure of it, why else had a whole town been silent? This Varian had locked her in the dark screaming for just one little ounce of light, never to have it granted.

And now the news of the former Captain signing a warrant for her arrest. None of it help her mental or spiritual well-being, in fact it was changing her. It was absurd. The woman Rebecca knew as gentle, and kind, honest and loyal. What crimes could she possibly have committed against the town of Mryken. Surely none.
Rebecca lifted from the hearth and came to rest her hands on either side of Alexi's shoulders.

"Sit Milady, I'll draw your bath, and we will comb out your hair. You need to rest and relax." She pleaded caressing the other woman's shoulders with balance of her thumb directly into the narrowing of her spine between her shoulder blades.

"Mmm." She murmured as her heavy lids drifted and she let Rebecca take care of her. Tomorrow would come soon enough.

[emmy]

But Alexi had never come; which would have been all for the better, no matter what the outcome. All Messina needed was for her sister to be affiliated with what was about to go down on that wedding day of hers.

Not that any of it had been derived from any semblance of a plan. No, not until the very moment in which it happened, had the thought ever occurred to her. Perhaps she had simply been suppressing her true self for far too long. Messina had never thought herself to be of a malicious sort, after all.

The room was thick in its oppressive silence. The atmosphere dripped in it, clung to the arms of the tailors as they scurried about the slim figure of the noblewoman, making their final adjustments to her wedding gown. She was raised upon a platform, and the lush expanse of her white skirts curtained down past her feet, to caress the floorboards with its embroidered hem. A demure man stooped at her side, fixing a run of delicate embellishment, while another tended to her sleeves. Beyond the hum of the silence, music beyond - in the courtyard, where crowds of distinguished nobility from all over Amasynia laughed, and snacked on sweet cakes and wine - trickled in past their hearing.

Messina's lips were pursed, becoming nothing but a thin line of drained color. Those round gems of hers, like chipped shards of ice, were trained carefully upon the door. Her gaze had stained holes upon that polished flat of wood for nearly twenty minutes before a man shouldered it open. "They're ready for her," he began, licking his lips. The woman stirred.

"Is Alexi here? Have you seen my sister?" Had she arrived, Messina had planned on her sister to walk her down the aisle, in place of the father that she no longer had. Her eyes brightened, and a flaxen brow rose above a single orb of ice. The man shook his head and untucked an arm from his side, holding it forward.

"I'm afraid not. I'll have to walk you, Milady Rose."

* * *

The next thing the dazed woman remembered, was thrusting herself through the snug door of the gleaming carriage of some such noble Amasynian, and demanding, with teeth chattering and lips blue with the chill, for the driver to bring her to Myrken Wood now. He had obliged beneath the icy depths of Messina's startling gaze, and never again throughout the extent of the ride did he dare another look back upon her.

There had been so many people, and none of them she knew. Some were simply vaguely recognizable faces tucked within lavish garments, all peering out upon her with their scrutinizing gaze and their suffocating thoughts. Was this lady good enough for the Lord Edric Reginald? Would she ever fit in with Amasynia, would she taint its name? What was this murmur from the east about the rest of the Rose family?

She had been clutching the man's arm as if it was her only salvation, and down at the end of the aisle stood Reginald. Really - truly - she could not take it for a moment longer. She flung the stranger's arm down, stirring the carefully pinned and tucked froth of butter crème tresses atop that head of hers - and even then, she was breathing furls of chilled breath, it fingering past lips trembling from the cold. By the time she had hooked her fingers about the lush swell of her weddings skirts and made to bolt in the opposite direction of the aisle, the shocked gathering of people had begun to congeal over, thick rivulets of ice snaking up their legs, knees, arms, torso, and finally slithering closed over their wide-eyed faces. Even Reginald, forever poised as if to lurch after the fleeing vision of pale loveliness, had become nothing more than the action pose of an ice sculpture.

She has tried, tried to forget the incident. It had been merely a bad dream, had it not? Messina had simply never left the Rose Manor in the first place, so that her brief home in Amasynia was naught but a story to plague her mind. A horrible, frightening story. But even if it had not been fabricated within her imagination, Messina rationalized, no one would ever find out. After all, there had been no one left unfrozen to leak the tale.

But now there begun the mysterious fires that raged the country side. They couldn't certainly be headed anywhere near her petrified wedding ceremony.