Dark of the West (Glass Alliance)

I turn from the mirror, facing both my governess and the delicate chaos of my room—chiffon and lace dresses strewn across the bed, headbands of gem and pearl scattered, textbooks towering and filled with notes for the university exams.

She pins my dark hair with a maroon feather clip, her aging hands soft and warm, her own hair brown and greying. In the mirror, my silk dress gathers in all the right places. The rich hue illuminates my amber skin, still a bit paler from winter, and silver beading spirals across the bodice like lights and colours in a night sky. I raise my chin, as Mother would, pearl-drop earrings swinging.

I look seventeen already.

A fierce fire that never dies out. And all I want is for Arrin to look at me. All I want is for him to say my name and—

I close my eyes.

Nothing’s gained without sacrifice. Everyone seems to accept that but me.

My brothers stare like it’s the carcass of a wild animal—nameless, forgotten—and Arrin kicks at the twisted limbs. He’s thirteen, godlike to me. Tall and unafraid. He can talk back to Father and take the punishment without flinching. He can run laps for hours, in the heat, in the mud, with Father cursing him every step.

I can’t sleep. I can’t think. I drift into the wide sea of memories from long ago, with smoldering towns, flashes of bullets, the smell of petrol and ash. I see a mangled corpse lying in a ditch.

The conviction in her eyes is too much. She thinks I’m better than them. She’s always thought that, earned or not, and it’s as unfair as Father’s threat, an expectation I can’t ever live up to. I’m selfish and rotten at the middle. I’m even as drunk as Arrin right now.

I don’t want to do what she asks.

“But you are the sky, my love. You are limitless.”

I look at her helplessly. “But I’m not like them.”

“No, you’re not. They are earth and sea. They can only go so far until they run up against each other.” She touches my cheek.

“I know you’re confused,” she says softly, but firmly. She’s been made tiny from years in His shadow, light worn away, but somehow she’s still outside of it. “A mother knows the depth of her saddest child. She feels the pain of her most broken one. You were mine, but I gave you up long ago. Please don’t leave your brothers alone in this. Don’t choose me. I fear for what he will ask of them.” She peers up into my face, her grief holding the weight of an entire family.

She silences me with a feather of a finger. “Is that what you truly want?”

The clock on her table ticks away the midnight silence. One, two, three, four. It winds up my brain, ticking it into the stupid knot it always is. No, I want to shout at the entire world. There are a hundred things burning inside me and I don’t even know which one is true. I want to be away from here. I don’t want this life any more than I want my own body buried in the damn ground! But I also want to fly, every day if I can, because it’s the only place that feels right. I want to fly with Cyar, because the thought of him flying alongside some other pilot, some stranger who doesn’t even care about him the way I do, who won’t keep him safe, makes me feel like I’m kicking at walls and can’t get out.

But I don’t say it.

I don’t know if I’d be betraying her or myself.