Saints, it’s like watching a road accident. I can almost hear the squealing horses and splintering wood in the background as Alana moves Ruby off her lap, the young woman actually obeying this time, no doubt able to sense the trouble coming like the rest of us. The two sisters face one another, Yulia relaxed aside from her tense shoulders and Alana’s jaw clenched tightly.

“What I want,” my knight hisses between grit teeth, “is for you to leave me alone but since you are incapable of that, I’ll have to settle for this. Fine. Let’s get the truth out there. Where should we start? The real reasons you’re here instead of in the north, waiting for your husband that is probably risking his life at his very moment? Or do you want to go back to the beginning?”

“Oh, the start of course. The very start, since you apparently blame me for every misfortune you’ve ever experienced. Including being born in that closet of a home you spent your childhood in, raised by that harpy of a mother. I suppose that was my fault too, never mind that I was a child still having accidents in her pants, ancestors spare me.”

Oh, saints. She’s not holding back and Alana looks ready to slap her. A sharp tugging on my pants leg draws my attention down to Bell, who is holding a large bowl of crispy treats in her hands. I quickly grab it, crunching down on a salty snack as I turn back to the show, one far more interesting than Rolly’s moving pictures.

Shake reaches a hand over my shoulder and grabs a fistful for herself, Cloud quick to follow. I glare at both but can’t be bothered to stop them, unwilling to interrupt the family drama.

“I thought we weren’t playing word games. Stop being ridiculous.”

“You’re the one who needs to stop being ridiculous. Go on, Ally. Unburden yourself. Why don’t you tell me, in detail, what crimes I’ve committed against you? Because I can’t think of one. Not that it’s stopped me from apologizing for them, over and over.”

“You want a list?” Alana scoffs. “Fine. Here’s your list. You made every aspect of my childhood much harder than it needed to be. I tried to connect with the family but every time I visited the house, you were there. Following me around, getting in the way. I practically had to beat you off with a stick to get a moment of peace. And when I finally got the message through your thick skull, you pouted and sulked, making me out to be the villain. No one was ever nice to me in that house, but it was only after your temper tantrums that they were nasty.”

“Really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Are you going to deny it?”

Yulia takes a sip of her drink. “Oh, no. We’re being honest and open with each other, aren’t we? So. Let’s talk about the fact that everyone was mean to you. Which was terrible and I’m sorry you had to go through that. But it was not my fault. I was a child. My feelings were hurt. I cried. That is all I did.

“They weren’t fake tears meant to motivate a conspiracy to ostracize you. If anyone did such a thing, it was my mother. Do you think the servants would have the audacity to look down on a James daughter if they didn’t have the explicit, if unspoken, permission of someone important? You and I both know how happy she was to have a bastard child threatening the position of her own children.”

“Ah, yes. Nothing is your fault, is it? You were the cause, but the consequences aren’t yours to hold. How dare I put any weight on those fragile shoulders of yours?”

“Don’t be sarcastic. What could I have done? Truly, tell me.”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Did you even try?”

“Oh, I tried. I talked to them. I talked to you. As much as I adored you back then and was eager to have a sisterly relationship, my relentless efforts to become closer was to protect you, you idiot. If you were right beside me, the servants would have backed off and my admirers wouldn’t have been so hostile. You pushing me away caused you far more grief.”

Alana practically growls. “I shouldn’t need to be sheltered by you to live my life.”

“Again, is it my fault the world isn’t fair? It’d be wonderful if we could all live in peace, beholden to nothing and no one, but that’s not how life works. Every decision has consequences. You distanced yourself from your family and that made you vulnerable. You think you were targeted because of me? Maybe that had something to do with it but it’s just as likely that it was because of you. Your circumstances.

“A girl just like them, who grew up as a servant to a whore mother, discovers a light affinity and is suddenly a long-lost James daughter? They had to be drowning in envy. But no. It couldn’t be that you were bullied because children, ancestors adults too, can be petty bastards. Let’s blame everyone’s actions on the older sister that did nothing but try to be nice and make your life better, despite you fighting me every step!”

At this point, Alana is shocked into silence, but Yulia doesn’t let up, taking a long drink from her glass before starting back in. “And since we’re taking the chance to be honest, let’s discuss the real reason behind your animosity. Your jealousy.”

I wince as Alana hisses, “My jealousy?!”

“I do understand. We’re—"

“You don’t understand a damn thing,” Alana snaps, cutting her off. A hand twitches near her waist, fingers grasping for her missing sword. I’m a little nervous where this is headed if Alana already wants to stab her, or worse, but I don’t dare intervene. Something tells me this has been a long time coming. And Alana can’t do too much damage with her bare hands.

Wait. How much time has she spent with Kierra?

…this might be dangerous.

“Coo!”

Bell, ever in tune with our needs, appears at Alana’s feet. Thankfully holding a glass of Herbanacle instead of a dagger. However, Alana refuses, sending the imp scampering off with a foot as she faces her sister. “You know what? I tried. I really fucking tried. Told myself that I’d leave the past in the past and try to be decent since you might actually be useful for once but that isn’t enough for you, is it? Everything has to be how Yulianna wants it, when she wants it.

“Fine! Let’s be honest with each other. I’ve never been jealous of you in my life. Your position, maybe, but I felt the same for plenty of other people. But you?” Her scoff is full of so much disdain that Yulia can’t hide her offense, frowning prettily.

“What is there to be jealous of? What are you, besides a pretty face? A brat, that’s what. One that throws a tantrum when she doesn’t get what she wants. You say you want to help people but really, you want everyone to know you’ve helped them and worship the north’s rose. You can’t exist without someone kissing your ass every couple of minutes, can you?”

“Incredible. It isn’t enough I be good-natured and even-tempered. I see now. I must be a saint to be redeemed in your eyes.”

“You could be every saint reborn and fate’s gift to the world and I wouldn’t want anything to do with you. What I don’t understand is why that’s a problem. Is the world going to end if one person doesn’t sing your praises?”

“Will the world end if you at least try to treat me like family?”

“Oh, I treat you a lot better than family. You’re sleeping in my home. That was a privilege I had to earn.”

“For someone that bore the full brunt of our family’s cold traditions, you sure are eager to keep them going. I find it disturbing that you are only openly hostile to me, the one person that welcomed you with open arms. Perhaps you like being treated like shit? It would explain where I went wrong.”

“Don’t misunderstand. I have issues with all our family. The difference between them and you is that I respect them too. Except Zach, but he doesn’t constantly bother me so we get along fine. You should take notes.”

I can’t help the big smile on my face as they snipe at each other. It’s no surprise that Yulia knows how to make her words cut deep but Alana gives as good as she gets, showing an admirable, at least to me, capacity for pettiness and hurling childish, and not so childish, insults. It may not be exactly positive but they’re certainly opening up to each other. Maybe for the first time.

And despite the poison they’re hurling, their voices haven’t risen in volume. They may be angry but they’re controlling themselves, which gives me hope that this will be a constructive conversation.

But it’s abruptly interrupted by someone who makes no effort to keep their voice quiet.

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”