Chapter 28 - Stella

Stella loomed over her sister, a judgmental look on her face. Luna knew what she was to do next, though she begrudged doing it. “Sorry for making you fight me, Sol.” She sighed, not really meaning it. Sol shrugged and accepted her apology, knowing full well she didn’t mean it and that the two of them would be battling again this time tomorrow.

“Very good.” Stella nodded, taking Luna by the hand. “Now come along, Luna, you’ve not had your violin lessons.” 

“I just had one yesterday!” Luna protested, still dutifully following Stella despite her words.

“You have them everyday, Luna. That’s how lessons work.” Stella said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah but every single day! That’s stupid!” Luna whined.

“Couldn’t we say the same of your little scraps with our brother?” Stella quirked an eyebrow, spurring her sister to silence.

After a few more silent steps, they were finally out of earshot of Sol, halfway to the back entrance of the palace. “So…” Stella began, glancing around for any staff or worse, their parents. “Did you win?”

“Of course! I’ve won 30 times in a row now!” Luna boasted, not having anywhere near the self control her older sister did.

“Keep your voice down.” Stella sighed. “Fighting like that isn’t something to be proud of.” 

Luna stopped, looking up at Stella with a thoroughly furrowed brow. “Isn’t it? That’s why everyone loves mom and dad though. They fought the Rhine and now they’re king and queen. That’s literally how it works!”

“That’s different.” Stella snipped, though internally she conceded it was a good point. Luna was always too smart for her own good. “That was a different time, they had no choice but to fight. Nowadays, thanks to our parents, we get that choice.”

“Well I choose to fight then!” Luna grinned, proudly placing her hands on her hips.

“That’s-” She bit down on her own words. “That’d be all well and good if you were a normal little girl Luna, but you’re a princess. You’d do well to remember that.” 

The younger girl pouted, unable to understand her sister. If it got to this point, it became fruitless to argue. Once Stella brought out the talk about their role as royalty, all that awaited was an hour-long lecture about their privilege and duty as members of the royal family, and frankly, Luna would take the mind-numbing violin lessons over hearing that speech again. 

Stella taught Luna violin personally. Although both their educations had begun under their uncle Mercury, the king’s personal advisor and bard, he was often kept busy with travel and diplomacy, leaving Stella to take over instead. 

Luna sat on a stool, listening as Stella navigated her way expertly through a well-rehearsed piece. Although nothing compared to her uncle, Stella was prodigious with music, as she was with many things. Her bow danced along the strings fluidly and elegantly, weaving music with every movement. Each note permeated the air around her like recently-sprayed perfume, lingering in the ears of listeners even as the song marched on. It was a performance that could captivate the heart and mind of anyone who heard it.

Anyone except Luna, it seemed, who stared disinterestedly out of the window. It was a beautiful song, but she had heard it too many times. Played it too many times herself. At this point, it was hardly music to her anymore, just a sequence of movements executed in order. A joyless, regimented thing; a training drill under the guise of art. There was nothing wrong with that, of course, practice was important, but it always felt a shame to perform for performance’s sake. Music like Stella’s belonged in a livelier environment, it deserved the heat and excitement of the stage. Without that pressure, Luna saw little point in it. Perfected execution in a vacuum was meaningless if it couldn’t be replicated in the real world. That’s how she felt, at least.

She imagined Stella disagreed, but never asked. Her eyes flickered from the window to her sister. Something always bothered her about how she played. She was always at peace, eyes closed, a soft smile on her face, movements smooth and precise. It was a total contrast to how she herself played. 

Stella brought her song to an end with a striking vibrato. Then, with a deep breath, her eyes reopened. “Your turn.” 

Luna sighed, taking her own violin and pressing it against her neck. “Four, three, two, one…” Stella counted her in. As soon as the count ended, her bow ripped across the strings, a near-perfect replication of Stella’s opening note.

Sonically, Luna’s performance was much the same as Stella’s. She had long perfected the movements of the bow and her fingers. Executing the right notes in the right rhythm was child’s play to her. Despite this, it was clear something was different.

From just a glance at the girl, you could tell. There was no peace in her play the way there was with Stella. Each movement of the bow was forced, every push and pull done with too-much strength, it was as if she was raging against her own perfection, getting as close to making a mistake as she could in each action, but barely pulling back each time. It was a tiny, silent form of rebellion, but it was the best she could do.

After violin, Stella had a great many other lessons. Luna was too young to take them herself, but she tended to observe her as she went about her day. Stella’s life was in many ways, a window to her expected future. She wanted to know what she was in for.

It seemed she was in for a never-ending stream of work. Every hour or so she’d see Stella hurriedly pacing from class to class, muttering and cursing under her breath about being late. In the morning was etiquette, where she learned all the right ways to use cutlery, the right posture to walk in, even the right way to laugh in polite company. Those were the lessons Luna dreaded the most when she grew up.

Then in the afternoon there was sword-fighting, though not the same sort of training Sol received. Stella’s style was more for discipline and aesthetics, ceremonial in nature. She’d repeat beautiful kata, strike impressive-looking poses and manoeuvre her blade in unique and flashy ways. It’d never do her any good in a battle, but it’d look good in front of guests, and that’s all that really mattered.

After their shared violin lessons, she was quickly swept up into a suite of languages, Orcish, Elvish, even some limited beast-tongue. These languages had long since grown old and been abandoned by the population in favour of a generalized human speech, but it was still expected of her for her future as a diplomatic figure. 

Before dinner was poetry, history and other forms of academia, which mostly amounted to her pouring over tomes for a few hours. Luna liked to join her in this. It was one of the few forms of study that actually caught her eye. She’d generally read whatever Stella had left behind, snagging whatever book she had finished most recently. Lately, it had been “On the Study of Slimes - An introduction to Slimology”, one she found particularly fascinating.

“Have you ever seen a slime, Stella?” Luna asked. 

As expected, she received no response. Stella never spoke to her during her study period. Her green eyes scarcely even glanced toward her younger sibling. By this time in the day, the way Stella read was like how Luna played violin. Her eyes devoured books, fingers snapped pages to the side. It seemed she shared none of the joy that Luna did when studying. 

“I wonder if I’ll stop having fun with books when I’m older.” Luna pondered, inspecting the scowl on her sister’s face as she tore through another textbook. “I hope not…” She frowned. 

Luna admired Stella immensely. She was the perfect model for everything she could be. A magical prodigy, a beautiful woman, a disciplined and accomplished princess. 

Luna loved Stella greatly. She was kind, caring, and often spared her little free time to play with and speak with her siblings.

But Luna could never be Stella. She’d never want to. There was something that horrified the little girl about her sister’s lifestyle. In some ways, she was just scared to grow up, but there was something unmistakably concerning about how she lived. She always wondered how Stella was at her age? Did she used to enjoy reading? Did she used to fight? Did she ever smile?

Of course Stella smiled. She smiled softly and sweetly and beautifully every single day. Whenever she met a guest, or performed before visiting dignitaries, or greeted their mother and father, she smiled.

But Luna always found it hollow. It was just a reflexive motion of her lips. A display to put others at ease and to display the kinds of expressions her pretty face could make. In all her twelve years of life, Luna had never seen Stella truly smile. A smile that pushes your cheeks to their limit, a smile that puts all your teeth on display, just a warm and genuine smile. Never once had she seen that from her sister.

She wondered if when she grew up, would she stop smiling too?

Current Party: N/A

Bullets Remaining: N/A