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A fairytale in Reality, ch. 3 by Kalina Dolejsi
SUMMARY: So, there's your basic reality on one hand. Fantasy on the other. Smash 'em together and what do you get? (No, not bad poetry.)The answer is, one school of “horrors”,a gaggle of fairytale characters,and at the heart of it all,a simple book.
A Fairytale In Reality
Ch. 3-The Funeral
A/N=Well, I don't know about anyone else, but I am so excited, b/c the Harry Potter book comes out this weekend! Ahh! Time to get my geek on! Not mention Johnny Depp and the Chocolate Factory. Can't wait to see that. I've got my weekend full! Anyhow, thanks for reading. Next chapter, the school!
It was the night before the funeral of Queen Adelaide was to be held, and the palace was eerily calm. It was as if after all the planning of the funeral was done, the wills and various documents drawn up, there was nothing left to mourn for. It was behind them now, tied up in a nice, neat package with a ribbon on top and ready to be shipped off and forgotten about.
However, while the rest of the palace drifted off into slumber, Alethea was still awake, sitting on the plush window seat underneath the large windows that lead out to the terrace.
Of course, said windows were locked, to prevent anyone from reaching the terrace, an idea that Alethea (who at the age of six, already possessed rather rudimentary lock-picking skills that consisted of kicking very hard and/or sticking a hairpin in the keyhole) was seriously considering, until she heard footsteps.
Aceline, looking rather like a ghost, what with her enormous white nightgown that seemed to drape everywhere and her equally enormous, white face to match, came up quietly behind her sister.
Alethea didn't even turn around. For all the maids, nannies, and other assorted servants, the twins had basically raised themselves. It was at times likes these, no servant could fill the place of someone to be close to. They had only each other, and her sister was currently doing her best impersonation of a frozen pincushion.
"Oh, I didn't hear you. I can't sleep. You either?"
Aceline said nothing and slipped beside her sister on the window-seat, where she pressed her hand to the large, frosted window pane. She traced the nearest constellation in the sky with her finger.
Alethea rolled her eyes. "Oh, honestly, Cece. The stars won't tell us anything. I don't care what that astrologist told father today. "
When Aceline didn't answer, Alethea just continued. "Why do you keep looking at them? Do you think she's out there by them?"
Aceline did not respond. Still, since the death of her mother, she had yet to say one word.
Even before, whenever Aceline had had little to say, Alethea had felt all the more cause to talk. Now, with Aceline mute, Alethea rarely, if ever, ceased talking, especially to her sister. She felt she had to talk for both of them in a way, and that talking to her sister kept her sister who she was, somehow.
The only other person who spoke to Aceline these days was her father, and that was with praise on how quiet and obedient she was. Alethea felt as if she didn't speak to her sister, her sister might just disappear altogether into the curtains or a wall.
Alethea took a look at the stars. "They seem so far away." She frowned.