The night faded away into the dewy first light of morning.
Gunter had already been awake before even the sun sat up and stretched. Beating her by hours to the kitchen table. His footsteps were heavier than usual. He felt weighed down and old. Body aching, he sat down at the table and pulled out a fresh piece of paper.
Unlike all the other paper on the table, this one was empty, waiting to be filled. With great remorse he began to write a letter, leaving its intended recipient nameless.
Chris and Zeven did not come down from the bedroom for hours. Both lying awake together, unwilling to wake the other by leaving their embrace. Arms and legs entangled, their chests heaved together breathing in time with each other.
But they both understood that they could not will away the day. When Gunter came upstairs and knocked on the door, Chris pulled away first. Sitting up as she pushed off from the bed, before touching her feet to the floor.
The ground was cold beneath her feet, the absence of Zeven's arms around her left an icy feeling over her body. Fighting the desire to crawl back, she stood up and walked over to the bureau drawers. Throwing on one of his sweaters to stave off the chill. She disappeared from the room before anything could be said.
As far as mornings went, it had little note. Gunter poured hot coffee into both of their mugs, pre sweetening Zeven's. They made light conversation, avoiding the topic of that night, and waited for their guests to arrive.
The front door opened to reveal both Brennan and Mae. Brennan stood behind his sister, pushing her in her wheelchair. She looked more vivacious than usual, reaching her thin arms up to invite Zeven in for a hug. Immediately he embraced her back. Going as far as to lift her from the chair and spin her around in his arms.
Brennan rolled his eyes as he wheeled the now empty chair inside. Greeting Chris with a firm handshake which dissolved into a brief hug.
Looking at Chris and Zeven, Brennan could read the stress and anxiety that they carried. Perhaps they might have fooled someone who was not so closely acquainted, but the way Zeven never stopped moving even after setting Mae back down and how Chris blinked in excess were easy to see if you knew what to look for.
Mae grabbed the wheels of her chair moving into the kitchen.
"Where are the sweets?"
Zeven who followed shortly behind answered mournfully, "Gunter took them away because he thinks I lack self control."
"You do." Chris and Brennan spoke in one voice, giving each other a side glance when they realized what they'd done.
"You must think you're real funny."
"I do." Once again in perfect unison.
Zeven turned back to Mae, "no one loves me in this house." dramatically throwing himself over the counter.
"I love you!" she piped up.
"Don't encourage him Mae."
'It only makes it worse."
Brennan moved from the far side of the kitchen to the neat pile of books and papers on the counter. Carefully thumbing through them he strained to decipher her writing. Zeven noticed him looking at the papers.
"She's quite a genius, it's almost frightening."
"I'm more impressed that you can read it."
Chris reached over and snatched the paper from his hands. "At least I'm not so anal retentive that if I don't make a perfect circle over the i I don't crumble the paper up and start over."
"That was one time!"
"You are right Chris, he has always been rather uptight. But," Zeven grabbed the paper out of her hands lifting it straight into the air, "he knows how to use punctuation. It's like you forget that your readers need to breath."
"Zeven can't spell for shit!" All eyes turned to Mae, mouths dropping open.
"Don't use that kind of language!" Brennand and Zeven both reprimanded her, turning their backs to Chris who threw a thumbs up at her in support.
"I think I am going to have to be the bad guy all day, but shouldn't we start on what we came here to do. I don't want to rush." Mae wheeled herself past the two boys and over to Chris. "Are you about ready?"
Chris stole a look at Zeven, before nodding her head.
"Let's do this."
Mae made it very clear that it was Zeven she wanted to carry her up the stairs. So Brennan had to carry up her chair instead. Chris could almost feel the jealousy radiating from Brennan as he stared daggers into Zeven's back.
Once they were up in Zeven's room, Mae was sat gently on the bed.
"Now leave us girls to do the girl stuff. Brennan help Zeven with whatever you boys do and then come back up here to help me finish up."
"Why are you kicking me out of my own room?"
"Because I can't get up another flight of stairs to her room." That immediately shut Zeven down. And as he sheepishly turned and left the room, Mae looked over at Chris and winked.
"Shall we?"
Chris was suddenly very afraid of the small girl sitting in the chair. Nodding as she moved in front of Zeven's bed so that Mae could reach down and fix her hair.
Her hands felt very different from Zeven's, they were small and frail. and as they combed through her hair her fingernails would occasionally graze her scalp causing goosebumps to arise.
She looked over at the dagger that sat on the bureau. It had been on her hip everyday since Zeven had given it to her. Longing to take it with her, to keep it on her person, to use it to soothe her anxious heart, she could not. As Zeven and Gunter both had explained many times the risk was too great should she be caught holding it. So she would leave it there. All night.
Her hair was done up in braids and curls. The braid stretching over her head like a crown before disappearing into the loose bun pinned at the back. It sat low on her head, and was elegantly distressed. Stray curls fell out in different sections adding a soft windswept look.
As for her face, Mae had applied only the lightest layer of makeup. Knowing how Zeven looked at the freckles on her cheeks she was careful not to cover them. But she did add a touch of rouge to both her eyes and cheeks. Dragging a thin line of black eye liner along her eyelid, elongating her natural eye shape; adding mascara to lengthen and frame her grey eyes. There was nowhere to look but directly into her eyes, even more so when they were encased in thick black eyelashes. A black hole drawing everything into it.
Her lips were pleasantly pink. Only a shade deeper than her usual color, but that was all it took to make them look sweeter than a red apple. And as Chris looked in the mirror, her hand reached up to brush gently over them. Unable to believe that that was in fact her face.
"You're beautiful. I have a hard time imagining a prettier girl at the ball. And I only take partial credit." Mae called from the bed.
"I look like a woman."
"You always look like a woman, because you are one. What you look like is a queen. Are you sure that you wouldn't be happy if you stayed?"
"It's not about being happy," Chris said, her eyes still fixated on the mirror, "I have to become King of Ametade. My mind is made up, tonight is the last time I am a woman."
She looked away from the mirror, understanding that wishing and hoping did nothing but hurt in the end.
Coming out from the bathroom, Mae gave her a reassuring smile. Opening her arms for Chris to slip into. She wrapped her arms around her tiny waist as Mae draped her arms over her shoulders.
"You are going to be just fine. But I swear to God, if you smudge that makeup you won't be."
Chris chuckled as she pulled away to look at Mae.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
The girls embraced once more. Breathing a sigh of relief, Chris's heart felt lighter.
"All that's left is the dress."
"Just let me call Brennan."
"Why?"
"Somethings call for four abled hands."
Chris didn't question her decision, instead she made her way to the closet to grab the dress.
She had yet to see the dress. Pretending that if she ignored it enough it might go away. But there she was, hand on the door knob unsure of what to expect.