November came, bringing my brother's birthday. He was turning twenty, and I hoped that it would not be his last year of life.
We held a masquerade ball, lavish and magnificent. Damian's costume was that of a swashbuckling pirate, handsome and dashing. He'd shown it to me as soon as it'd been made, like an excited child. My outfit resembled a proud and gorgeous peacock, with a dress of rich green, feathers, and sparkling jewels. I entered the ballroom with Oscar, who was dressed in the dramatic but tasteful uniform of a Holy Warrior, from centuries ago.
To my displeasure, I saw Catherine by Damian's side. She dressed as a swan, with a puffy white dress and finely crafted wings. It suited her better than anything else she'd worn before, almost like it would've been, in the novel, and the very notion made my blood run cold. Damian must've sent it to her, for she could not have had such good taste. No matter, I would bring my brother back to my side.
"Happy birthday, Damian."
"Thank you, Val. You're as beautiful as ever, and I must tell you again what pride it is to have you as my sister."
There was something different about his smile. Though it was as charming and endearing as it always had been, his eyes had lost that crazed passion, and towards me, it almost felt slightly guilty. While I'd been wishing that would happen, I did not like it one bit when I saw it reborn in his gaze towards Catherine.
"Then, will you do me the honour of letting me have your first dance of twenty?"
"Of course."
His willingness did not fool me, for I felt his grip on my hand tighten as Kyle came to sweep Catherine away, as per my instructions. As for Oscar, I left him safely with Annalise, who was dressed as a beautiful monarch butterfly. The music began.
"It has been a while since we have danced," I noted.
"Indeed. You're much occupied with your fiance, and so I've had to find other sources of entertainment. I do not think I have done too badly for myself."
Did he blame me for spending too much time with Oscar? Yet I had been careful not to neglect his letters, even as I fully enjoyed the consequences of my improved relationship with the crown prince. Suddenly, I realized that I had also appreciated the decreased frequency of his letters, and cursed myself for not noticing earlier. I must be firm.
"Don't you? Curious, for I believe the opposite. I see that you have not taken my advice regarding Lady Catherine."
"I warned you, my sweet Val. If you do not wish to stay by me for eternity, I must make other arrangements. Besides, I find her to be quite innocent and simple, very much unlike some ladies that we know. It is deeply refreshing."
"I do not want you to sink this low merely for my attention. When you are with her, do you not crave more intelligent company? More sophistication and depth of mind?"
"Why would I do that, when I've been surrounded by so-called sophistication my whole life? I am tired of it, tired of these games I used to be so fond of. Now I see the pretentiousness of it all, masks and lies and horrid vanity disguised as manners. It is very fortunate that I found Lady Catherine in my childishly selfish attempt to tie you to me. Her pure naivety and untainted compassion are my only desires. It is not for your sake I pursue her now, Val, but for my own."
No. No, that couldn't be true. The obsession I'd so carefully built up within him, the delicate balance to make sure he never lost interest nor went overboard, all gone within an instant? My years of devotion, tolerance, and concern, wasted? I refused to believe it.
"You jest."
"I do not."
I'd learned long ago of the unpredictability of mad mages. Though the object of their obsession typically did not change, when it did, it could happen in the blink of an eye. Yet even from the day I first grasped that knowledge, I did not think that it could happen to me. He was so attached, from the time I first put my plan into motion, to just a few weeks ago. It would've been fine if he pursued Catherine to any degree, if his ultimate goal was to annoy me, but it was not fine for him to actually be obsessed with her.
"I understood your words, Sister," said Damian, nothing but hurtful sincerity in his expression. "I finally realized that it was wrong for me to ask so much of you, and for you to be satisfied with me, when it is the whole world that you want. I'm deeply sorry for all the inconvenience I've caused you, and I know that I've inflicted much suffering on you, but I promise to redeem myself and to act more fittingly as your brother. Will you forgive me, Val?"
I had never expected nor wanted an apology. By blood, I'd always thought him mine, as much as he'd thought me his, and thus there was nothing to forgive. We were each other's to bear, whether it be a burden or a treasure. I hated that he now considered us so distant that this confession was necessary, but I would make the best of it.
"As long as you remember your utmost allegiance. Vow that you will always love me over her, choose me over her, and ally yourself with us, your family, over her. Swear it, Damian, and all shall be forgiven. If you refuse, or if you break this oath, I will never look upon you again as my brother. I will rescind all love and regard I've ever felt towards you, and curse you with my dying breath. Don't make me do such a thing!"
"I swear it, sweet Valentina. You're so handsome when you're passionate, but I do hate to see you distressed, for as much as you try to hide it, I think you are distressed, and I'm sorry again for the sorrow I cause you. Trust me when I tell you that the depth and fervour of my love and loyalty to you have not changed, and I shall always do my best, as before, to make you happy."
Damian's eyes were filled with tender affection, and I gazed into them with wonder. I could not remember the last time he'd seemed so sane, allowing me to love him so freely. Forgetting Catherine, this was what I'd always wanted with him, a normal and strong familial tie. I allowed myself to savor it, just for a moment.
Unfortunately, I doubted that it would last. His obsession may have been reset, but it would grow for Catherine with even more intensity than it had done for me, since there would likely be no resistance on her part. If I could not convince him otherwise, if I had to leave him to make his own decisions, with his own free will, of which I was no longer master of, then I must simply ensure the best for myself.
"The Magician's Vow, Damian."
His eyes widened, and he hesitated, but nodded. Ever since the hunting competition, I'd been preparing for a possibly dire situation, searching for the next best option, if I could not cure him completely. I'd hoped I'd never have to use it, and certainly not in this context. It was a horrible solution, so much that it could barely be called a solution, but it was the best that I'd been able to find.
Through the rest of our dance, he muttered the words of the spell. When the music died, he kissed my hand. I felt a jolt where his lips brushed against my skin, and a magic circle appeared there. It faded, and the spell was sealed. Damian embraced me.
"I love you, Val."
"And I, you."
As we parted, I smiled bitterly. I'd tried my best, and I'd continue to do so, but on Catherine's end instead. At least now, even if the worst came to be, I would be safe.
Little was that solace!
- - -
Ha. He should've expected it.
Perhaps it was because they were the same. Once something or someone had no more purpose, it was carelessly and cruelly discarded, and often made so no one else could ever use it again, or something of the sort. All he knew was that there he was in a mood of irony, and that he wondered if this was how it felt to the girls whose hearts he'd broken for amusement.
Damian had always known that Valentina only cared about herself. It should not have surprised him that she demanded the Magician's Vow, for his own magic to take his life, should he ever wish to devote his whole being to another. Well, so be it. He knew, in certainty, that he would never break it.
He conversed with his usual charm to the lady Val had shoved in front of him to be his partner for this next dance, while he scrutinized the ballroom for Catherine, and his mind raced.
Seeing the vehemence of Val's emotions had almost made him break, to take back all he'd said, and to beg her to stay with him forever. Yet he recalled Mother's words, gentle and pleading, a sharp blade of clarity and conscience in his muddled head.
"Act like a proper brother to Valentina, and not a demented stalker," she'd scolded, tears streaming down her face. "Please, Damian. Can't you see that she just wants to be happy, and for you to be happy, too?"
He'd rushed to her side, wiping her tears away with a handkerchief. Mother's weeping had seemed to rip his heart apart, shocking him back into lucidity unlike what he'd felt for ages, and in that moment of coherence, he saw the vileness of what he'd been doing. Horror and regret had rushed into him, and soon he was crying too.
That had been a few days ago, but her words had rung in his ears since. That night, he'd returned to his tower and sat in front of his mirror for a long time. When he'd first seen the despicable scene that burned itself into his memories, some weeks ago, his rage had caused all of them to shatter. They'd been replaced, of course, and he again gazed into his own eyes, hollow and pathetic.
He'd refused to believe what he'd seen, even as he heard rumours fly. He could not bring himself to acknowledge it, so he merely pretended it had not happened, and it worked, most days. However, that night, he touched his mirrors and played back the scene, and he watched all of it in silence.
"To think she would abandon all her dignity for him…"
The operahouse, after the banquet he hadn't been invited to. The prince, on top of his sister, their lips pressed obscenely together. Damian had turned his head away. He'd sat there all night, until Kyle found him in the morning and made him get some sleep.
He opened his eyes, coming back from his memories. That scene was what he'd used to force himself to go through with it, the depressing acceptance that his sister cared about the crown prince more than she cared about her image, something he hadn't imagined she was capable of. It did not damage her reputation, though, and he was sure she had it all planned out, but he didn't want to think too much of it. He merely realized that he had never had any chance.
There was Catherine, however. He saw her across the room, still dancing with Kyle, and he smiled. So simple, so different, so easy to read. The opposite of his sister, and the break he needed from the chains he'd finally broken from.
Catherine, sweet Catherine…