“Not only had my brother disappeared, but - and bear with me here - a part of my very being had gone with him. Stories about us could, from them on, be told from only one perspective. Memories could be told but not shared.” - John Corey Whaley

Ferdaid struts into my room causing crimson to flare up my cheeks. The vein on his temple would burst if he suspects me of the immorality of being kissed – and not wanting it to stop.

“Dear sister,” he says, holding out a hand so pale that it almost reeks of death. His finger joints have started to bend at unnatural angles.

I suppress a shiver running down my spine as I kiss his ruby ring before replying with a deep bow: “My king.”

For the first time ever he feels so far removed from me that he has become more king than brother, even though he only inherited the crown recently. We have grown so completely apart since my father’s death. I have been realising the gradual cleft, but up to now it did not matter.

Where did those joyous times go when Ferdaid and Friduric used to carry me on their shoulders, showing me off to the whole castle? Even though the decades between us seemed so huge, no spaces used to exist between us.

“Leave that for the throne room,” my king commands.

Suddenly I am filled with a void of impending doom and I feel the overwhelming urge to mend the broken bond between us. Ferdaid won’t be the one to take the first step. I love him enough to have the courage to take the first step. If he scorns me, I will at least have a clear conscience for trying.

Never could I have imagined that Friduric would have passed away so soon. There was no time to mend the fragments of our sibling-bond together. Perhaps I still have a chance with Ferdaid.

“Aeb, I know you are angry at me for restricting your movements.”

My head jerks up. Perhaps mending our relationship is within the realm of possibilities. “I was told that you are doing it for my safety.”

A long sigh fills the silence between us. “You and Katharina are all I have left in this world.”

This is more than I could hope for.

For a moment the young man who used to chase me through the halls and tickled me until I giggled hopelessly stands in front of me. “Little Aeb, I am doing what I can to keep you safe,” he says with a mountain of worry resting on his shoulders.

“I understand it. I just do not approve of your methods.”

“I am aware that I might seem harsh and callous to you, but things are so complicated. They have been for quite some time.” He sits down on the edge of my bed. “I have wonderful news for you, dearest sister. I have arranged a marriage for you.”

I am still waiting to hear the wonderful news and then it sinks in:

"What!”

How dare he! The right to choose my marriage had been reserved to me alone since before father's death. It was one of the only things my father insisted on without leaving any room for negotiation. I think it is even written in his will that I hold authority in that aspect of my life.

“Don’t be so shocked. You knew you had to marry sometime.”

My breath quickens and I inhale sharply: “Not in the middle of a war! You know I have the right to choose. Ferdaid, I cannot forgive you for this! It is unacceptable.”

“You did not even ask who is to be your husband,” he says in a hushed whisper as I storm to the door.

“It does not matter, Ferdaid! I refuse to marry. I can stand it if you keep me a prisoner in my own home. I can stand it if you ignore me and treat me like a little child! But I won’t do it. I refuse.”

“It’s lord Caith.”

“You took away my freedom -,” my voice trails away. “Did you just say Caith?”

He nods, a hint of affection glimmering in his eyes.

“Even if it is true, you still did not have the right to make the decision for me.”

“He saved your life. I know you fancy him. I have watched you since your return. He makes you happy. He treats you as an equal. It is all you’ve ever desired.”

I don’t want to admit to my brother that he is right. “When are we to be married?”

“Tomorrow.”

“How will everything be planned and ready by then?”

“I have had a month to plan this.”

There would be no negotiation this time. Do I really want to opt out of this?

As I relive Caith's kisses on my brow, the certainty takes root: No, this is something I desire.

Instead I settle on the simple question: “Why?”

Standing up, he produces a golden jewellery box. “This war will soon end. The outcome might not be in our favour. Yet I know that what he feels for you, will be your salvation. The darkness is here and it will stay.” His forlorn eyes focus on me again. “I found this among my mother’s jewellery. It was her favourite. Father had it made before they wed. She wore it at their wedding.”

He presents me with a golden jewellery box decorated with my family crest on its sides and lid. He hands me a key barely the size of the first part of my thumb. I tenderly grasp it between my forefinger and my thumb.

“You have to place the key in the slot at the back first and then turn it until it cannot turn anymore.”

I turn the box around and place the key in the slot and turn. After turning it about twelve times, the key refuses to budge any more. A beautiful melody starts playing after I unlock and ooen the front. A figurine of a lady with the likeness of his mother and with the likeness of my father, pop up and start dancing.

I recognise the melody. “Father used to hymn this to me before I fell asleep.”

“He hymned it to us as well.”

“Does the song have words?”

“Not that I have ever heard.”

I unfold the red velvet that is tucked tightly into the jewellery box. A golden pendant of a rose hangs on a thin golden chain.

Deciding to try my luck, I push the boundaries between us even further. “Ferdaid, do you remember my mother?”

He gives a sad smile. “He always used to say that he made a deal with darkness itself, and that in spite of all his deeds, he was blessed with raising you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, no, I didn't know your mother. I don't even remember ever seeing her. All I know is that he refused to speak about it.”

The rose has a ruby heart. I take it out and hold it by the thin chain. Two earrings of smaller roses hide behind a piece of the material.

“You should wear it tomorrow.”

I place it back in the box and close the lid. The melody disappears. I embrace my brother. “Thank you, dearest Ferdaid. I forget to say it to you, but I love you.”

He pushes me away. “Caith will take care of you now. You will no longer be my responsibility.”

The moment shatters. He stands up and leaves me with the jewellery box and crushing emptiness in my heart.