“Paithan! Open your door this instant!”
“He’s not there,” called a sleepy voice from down the hallway.
Calandra glowered at the door, knocked again, and rattled the wooden handle. No sound. Turning, Cal stalked down the hall and entered the room of her younger sister.
Clad in a frilly nightdress that left both white shoulders exposed and just enough of her breasts to make things interesting, Aleatha lounged in a chair before her dressing table, lazily brushing her hair and admiring herself in the mirror. Magically enhanced, the mirror whispered compliments and offered the occasional suggestion as to the correct amount of rouge.
Calandra paused in the doorway, shocked almost beyond words. “What do you mean! Sitting there half-naked in broad daylight with the door wide open! What if one of the servants came by?”
Aleatha raised her eyes. She performed this motion slowly and languorously, knowing and enjoying full well the effect it had. The young elfmaid’s eyes were a clear, vibrant blue, but- shadowed over by heavy lids and long, thick lashes-they darkened to purple. Opening them wide, therefore, had the effect of seeming to completely change their color. Numerous elven men had written sonnets to those eyes, and one was rumored to have died for them.
“Oh, one servant has already been past,” said Aleatha without the slightest perturbation. “The footman. He’s been up and down the hall three times at least in the last half-hour.” She turned from her sister and began arranging the ruffles of her nightdress to show off her long, slender neck.
Aleatha’s voice was rich, throaty, and sounded perpetually as if she were just about to sink into a deep slumber. This, combined with the heavy-lidded eyes, gave an impression of sweet languor no matter where the young woman went or what she was doing. During the fevered gaiety of a royal ball, Aleatha- ignoring the rhythm of the music-would dance slowly, in an almost dreamlike state, her body completely surrendered to her partner, giving him the delightful impression that without his strong support she would sink to the floor. The languid eyes stared into his, with just a tiny sparkle of fire deep in the purple depths, leading a man to think of what he might do that would cause those sleepy eyes to open wide.
“You are the talk of Equilan, Thea!” snapped Calandra, holding the handkerchief to her nose. Aleatha was spraying perfume over her neck and breast. “Where were you last darktime?” [7]
The purple eyes opened wide, or at least wider. Aleatha would never waste their full effect on a mere sister.
“Since when do you care where I was? What wasp’s gotten into your corset this gentle-time, Callie?”
“Gentle-time! It’s nearly winetime! You’ve slept away half the day!”
“If you must know, I was with Lord Kevanish and we went down to the Dark-”
“Kevanish!” Calandra drew a seething breath. “That blackguard! He’s being refused admittance to every proper house over that affair of the duel. It was because of him that poor Lucillia hung herself, and he as much as murdered her brother! And you, Aleatha … to be seen publicly with him-” Calandra choked.
“Nonsense. Lucillia was a fool for thinking that a man like Kevanish could really be in love with her. Her brother was a bigger fool in demanding satisfaction. Kevanish is the best boltarcher in Equilan.”
“There is such a thing as honor, Aleatha!” Calandra stood behind her sister’s chair, her hands gripping the back of it, the knuckles white with the strain. It seemed that with very little prompting, she might grip her sister’s fragile neck in the same manner. “Or has this family forgotten that?”
“Forgotten?” murmured Thea in her sleepy voice. “No, dear Callie, not forgotten. Simply bought and paid for it long ago.”
With a complete lack of modesty, Aleatha rose from her chair and began to untie the silken ribbons that almost held the front of her nightdress closed. Calandra, looking at her sister’s reflection in the mirror, could see reddish bruise marks on the white flesh of shoulders and breast-the marks of the lips of an ardent lover. Sickened, Calandra turned her back and walked swiftly across the room to stand staring out the window.