Hate Was Just Hate

Lucia looked at her sister after she had finished speaking. She could see the shock on her sister's face. There was disbelief too. What did Adela think she was lying about? What could she gain from lying to her?

She needed not to tell her about what happened when they got into the car. She had been there. She knew what had happened. That had been the final nail in the coffin used to bury their relationship.

"Dela," Lucia said in the silence that stretched.

Adela said nothing. She could not say anything. She wanted to think. Everything Lucia had said sounded truthful but that was not how she remembered that night.

She remembered how Michael had walked towards them and looked into her eyes as he greeted her. Had she been wrong in thinking that he had not been there for her but for Lucia? She remembered that pin glittering in the light and how she had been a little envious of its brilliance.

She also remembered how everyone had whispered when it had been announced that he would finally listen to tradition and select a young lady to dance with. He had only spoken to her and Lucia. Everyone had noted that. They had been sure she would be his dance partner. She had been sure he would ask her to dance. She had felt so good about herself. She had thought that finally, he was hers. But then the crowd had parted and he had been pulling another woman behind him. It had hurt. But not as much as when she had realised, he had chosen her sister over her.

She had not missed the awkward looks she had gotten. She had not been oblivious to the whisper and the snickers. Her mother had not glowered at her. She had been beaming. She had felt like she had been robbed of something that was hers.

And then things had gotten worse when they were in the car. Their mother had not acknowledged her. She had fawned at Lucia and had spoken about how they needed to move fast and keep the prince interested in her. It had hurt.

She had struggled to capture the prince and Lucy had done nothing. The anger had come next. How could she? She had thought Lucy was on her side and understood her. She had never felt more wronged than she'd felt that day.

She now realised how wrong she had been. But that did not mean Lucia was right either. Shame filled her even as that last thought filled her mind. Lucia had done nothing to her. She had held resentment for her for being herself. But she could not control it.

She could have tried to warn you, a little voice whispered in her ear.

How? Another asked.

Because as far as Lucia described it, there was no way Adela could have been warned of the humiliation she was going to face. No warning and no time. Everything had happened so quickly.

And yet the time had stretched through that ball as she had watched Lucia dance with the prince and then stay by his arm the rest of the night. Everyone had commented on how beautiful, graceful, serene, and delicate she was. There were others who had mocked her for having her baby sister steal a man right from under her nose. It had been the worst night of her life.

It had been obvious to her that even then, Lucia had been closer to the prince than Adela could ever hope for. He would have rather danced with the youngest sister than risk being linked with Adela. He had waited until Lucia was of age to have his first dance at a ball. Wasn't that telling enough? Everyone had spoken about it. Even now everyone was still speaking about it. Especially since he never picked another dance partner since.

With all this laid out, how could she not resent Lucia? Sure, she had been young and nothing had been under her control, but why her? What did she have that Adela could not finesse? Why did she have to be the tool of her humiliation? What made her so special that the Crown Prince of Vershia could not see anyone beyond her?

"Dela," Lucia snapped her sist out of her musing, "I have tried begging, I cleared the air with you. What more do you want?"

Adela could hear the desperate frustration in Lucia's voice. She could hear the helplessness, the stress and the despair. A part of her felt good about that. She knew what she felt. Another part of her hated herself for enjoying that. She hated herself for being responsible for it.

One thing about Lucia is that she cared about her family. She had a hard time connecting to outsiders so her family and the few friends she had meant a lot to her. They were in the same boat. Yet Adela felt her compassion was like a slippery fish and the unreasonable loathing stuck with her like glue.

"I want nothing from you, Lucia," Adela said flatly.

She felt a lot but she could not let it out into the surface. She felt remorseful. She had hurt her sister and had blamed her unfairly for what she could not control. She felt angry with herself as she could not open her mouth and apologise to her sister. A prideful vice was around her throat and she feared it would choke her to let the words out.

She could not deny that Lucia was beautiful and had always had a quiet charm about her. Why couldn't the prince overlook her? Why did he have to take a liking to her of all people? She felt grief over what she knew now could never be. She could never win the prince's heart. The one thing her mother had trained her for and she could not do it. It hurt. She wanted to curl up and cry. She was her mother's disappointment. The one who could never measure up.

"Please leave me alone," she said as she looked into Lucia's eyes.

The pain flashed in Lucia's eyes. She opened her mouth to protest. Her eyes glistened with tears.

"Do you hate me that much?" she asked.

Adela could not answer that question. She resented that her younger sister could easily get what she toiled for and could never attain. She hated herself for being inadequate and not knowing her shortcomings. She hated herself for the pain in Lucia's eyes. She hated Lucia for feeling that pain. Her hate was just hate now.

Lucia watched her sister struggle for words and she nodded in understanding. Adela had not forgiven her. She still hated her. What could she do to change that? There was one way to know that.

"What do you want me to do?" She asked her sister.

Adela blinked at her in shock.

"What can I do to make up for whatever you still hate me for?" Lucia's voice was desperate.

This was why people loved Lucia. She would change herself for the people she loved.

But I did that too, Adela thought. Why couldn't I get the same results? Mother will forever be disappointed in me and Prince Michael would never see me if I stripped naked and jumped up and down in front of him.

Make her stop talking to Prince Michael, A part of Adela reared its head and suggested. This way you can have a chance at the prince.