Electronic fiction by ladyhildegarde
†
Tea Time
he moment had turned ugly. They were laughing good-naturedly, when Gisela said, "Of course I am favorite," and Hildegarde put down her tea cup and grew still.
Oriente turned and looked, as though someone might be watching them in the courtyard. Prickles went down her spine. Her hand went to her twin's: she was many things to Hildegarde, nursemaid too, and comforted her unthinking.
"You?" Hildegarde hissed, disregarding her sister's caress. "A favorite?" She laughed gently. "But you're a hanger-on, a ward with no social status. A burden. My father-"
"He bids me call him "Father," too," Gisela continued, undaunted.
"Be still," Oriente whispered. "These things are not for us to discuss." She turned her luminous eyes to Hildegarde. "There is none superior to you, dear. How could anyone be preferred? She goads you."
Hildegarde's face softened when Oriente spoke, as it always did. "Magic mirror," she replied sotto voce. "It is, as always, as you say."
†
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Last update
Monday, July 2, 2007 5:11 PM