You Don't Know How to Braid

*Naska*

Naska clenched her jaw tight enough to make her fangs ache. But even as she forced her mouth to unhinge with effort, the frustration was still welling up within her. And if she didn't do something soon. She was going to snap.

Snap and then some. Naska knew, feeling her dress soaked on the parts that touched her skin. All thanks to just standing like an idiot in the sun for what must have been hours. And she retched inwardly as the back of her damp collar rubbed sweat into the nape of her thick hair. 

Even though they were inside the castle, back in Ana's rooms, it still felt gross. Like the humidity somehow followed them inside from the lawn. Its sticky texture seemed to coat the very air, making Naska swallow dry gulps of air.

Worse, Naska could feel her hands tremble from the caffeine draw. She desperately craved a good cup of joe. Anything with real coffee. Not some more of Dawny's gods damn tea. But that wasn't even the worst of it. 

No, because now she had to put up with the tiny girls' indecisiveness. Trying and failing repeatedly to pick up some god-awful dress for a revolting 'ball.'

"What about this one, your Empress?" Naska guessed, lifting up something blue with gold stars stitched into it. She held it up only halfway before she could hear those gold chains shake on Ana's shawl. 

Ana shook her head. "No. I don't think that will work." 

"This is so stupid," Naska snapped, flinging the rejected dress over the queen-sized bed. It joined the others. A pile of rejects making a considerably large size. And still growing, whilst the selection in her trunks got thinner.

"This?" Naska barely flashed up the next dress before seeing Ana press up her wisp of a brow.

"No, I-"

"For gods' sake," Naska scuffed, clicking the tongue loudly against her fangs before just whipping it to the pile. It must have startled the girl because she only stood there, crimson eyes frozen on the pile for a moment. 

"Naska," Ana began, breaking her shock at last. "there is no need for this kind of attitude."

Naska snapped and whipped her sweaty forehead.

"I don't know what you want or what I'm supposed to do. " Naska took another dress out to shake at here. She barely lifted it before seeing Ana press in her lips. 

Another rejection, huh? Fine. 

Naska just threw it to the pile. "Nochten doesn't even DO dances. " Naska reminded hotly. "So why the hell are we?!"

"Because His Majesty is dedicating this dance to me. I can not refuse." Ana stated that that should have been common knowledge. But it wasn't because Naska just blinked after her until Ana had to go on.

"It would be disrespectful."

So? Naska thought instantly. Why would that matter? It's just Dawny.

Who cares if they get a taste of their own medicine?

Naska reflected back to them standing around on the lawn, just being stared at. Where was the respect then? Naska didn't feel any. 

Naska quickly found she didn't like Dawny. Nochten was far superior in every way. And she wanted to return soon.

Where we don't get stared at, and there are no stupid Balls!

"Naska, please," Ana, meanwhile, urged with a sensible tone.."I need your help to get dressed. If you could just be more-"

But this only riled Naska up again. She suddenly felt irritated at the idea of fiddling with strings and buttons. Crinolines and gods knew what else she wanted to wear next. Each one takes nearly two hours to change.

Naska rubbed her sweaty palms on her gown. A gown that was nothing in quality or grandeur like the ones Ana had. Her simple muslin slip was nothing more than a maid's uniform, cheap and worn around the knees. She had none of Ana's pretty dresses and suddenly thought the girl spoiled to have them. Unworthy of them. And she wanted no more part to it.

Naska had had enough.

"Just pick a stupid dress yourself." Naska snapped and made her way over to Mykhol's chair. 

"Naska," Ana called in disbelief, but Naska didn't care. 

Naska scooted her ass onto his armrest before tilting her head to let her thick hair fall to one side. She snuck a glance at him for sympathy. " It's too much to ask of me." 

And Naska scooted a little closer.

Mykhol said nothing but glanced up at her. His vermillion eyes lifted to her steadily as if considering exactly whether to play along. He seemed to be in thought.

Since the party, the 19-year-old had been in the room with them, but he contributed nothing. He only sat back, absent from fingering the stitching of his robe, as if weighing some distant choice. But to Naska, it only meant the obvious that he wanted to be near her. 

My poor man. Naska thought and felt her heart swell. He must have been lonely in such a place. She wanted to lean over and kiss him. Or do much more.

But not with Ana right there. Naska wished she could go away so it could be the two of them-

"I think I'll leave to get ready, dear cousin." Mykhol abruptly stood, avoiding contact with Naska, and moved to the door.

Naska was quick to follow.

"No, stay." Mykhol threw back a hand. His almond eyes flicked to the dresses on the blankets before returning to Naska.

"Help her, Empress." It wasn't a question.

"But, Mykhol-" Naska began, but Mykhol narrowed his eyes as if quietly reminding her not to speak, and she snapped her head down, quickly realizing her mistake. Her hand cupped over her mouth at his threat before.

Mykhol stopped at the door to speak directly to Ana. "I'll be back to escort you after." And with that, the door closed. Leaving Naska standing in the middle of the room.

Did he just… Naska stared out in disbelief. He left her to deal with this mess? Now, all alone?

"You-" Naska bit down her lip to give a frustrated scream.

*Ana*

I heard a muffled scream before seeing Naska turn back from the closed door. Her face looked red and splotchy for some reason. But I'll assume it's due to standing out in the sun before now.

Did she get sun poisoning? Worried, I quickly check her over for signs. But outside of her cheeks, Naska didn't seem to be suffering. She was acting in her usual way again. 

So I quickly forgot about her and turned back to the more pressing matter. 

What am I going to wear? The pile of dresses loom higher than I can even stand on my tippy toes, feeling like staring up at a small mountain of fabric. All of them are so far 'no's'. But not in because I'm picky. There's a reason.

I will overheat if I wear the velvets and furs. But that's my fault. I seriously underestimated Dawny's summer.

 I thought it would be cooler, hence why I brought the older dresses. But, by the soft collection of sweat pooling under my shawl and seeping into my loose hair, one thing is clear. It is not.

Which only makes my options slimmer. Almost impossible. And I can't resist the slight urge to just say to hell with it and just go out in my slip. 

Almost. Of course, I'd never do that. But I am almost as frustrated enough, too.

Perhaps I should start with my hair instead? I find my reflection of a pale, small face looking back at me between the red shawl. She, too, looks a little peaked from all the excitement. A call for a change of pace to help? I think so. 

"Naska," I daftly work to unclick the gold locks to collect in my hand before feeling the shawl shift free. Immediately, I can see my thick waves bunched up like a bird's nest of tangles and sweat.

"I want to braid my hair."

"What for?" Naska doesn't even miss a beat to cross her arms, darting a look and then away from me. Her nose scrunched up at the sight. "Nobodies gonna see it under the shawl."

"I…" I start before the words of Nicoli echo in my ear. 'But it's pretty'.

"Pretty he says." I look back to the mirror, my messy hair a halo around my moonkissed face, contrasting severely now the red shawl is absent. I can't help but think it strange to look at, so different than the scarlet cloth I've grown used to. 

Yet, the memory of Nicoli's comment tempts me to reconsider. 

 "I might not wear it to the ball." I go tentatively, only to be met with a sharp scuff cutting through the weighty air.

"What?" Naska blurts before having to suck in a laugh. "You wanna make everybody sick?!" 

Would it? My heart stops for a moment at the idea. But again, I can't help but want to trust Nicoli. His words sounded so genuine. And a part of me wants to believe, even just a little. 

"If that happens, I'll just put back on my shawl." I reason, swallowing down the shift in my stomach, before taking a seat on the soft pink suede stool at the vanity. 

"So come and braid it, Naska." 

"Braid?" Naska lurched back, lip half up.

"No, you don't ask for that kind of stuff. And it's already one thing to touch it when I wash your hair." Naska tipped a step back. A look of disgust barely hidden from her face.

"I'm not doing it."

"You're…not?" I blink up at her, stunned. But before I could think to get mad or try to reason with her, Naska was already turning for the door. She made to bow, throwing her brick-colored hair over her face as if to hide whatever disgusted expression she might be making under the curtain.

"Apologies. But I should go check on Lord Mykhol." And Naska opened the door.

"Good afternoon, your Empress." 

And then she was gone. 

"She really…" I stare after the door, bewildered before reality sinks in. With Naska gone and no idea when and if she will come back in time, I might have to do everything by myself.

Slowly, my eyes drift back from the door, seeing that it is a lost cause. And just find my large round eyes come back to stare at me from the vanity. The 12-year-old looks after me, moving her arm to touch my hair the same way I do. 

Maddie always used to braid my hair. I wrap a curl around my finger. Recalling all the hours I spent in a chair while Maddie effortlessly worked her fingers, making elaborate braids. It seemed so easy for Maddie to do, yet I never learned it myself.

"I should have asked her to teach me." I tuck on the loose coil regretfully.

"I should have, so when I was alone, I could do it myself and never have to…" I stop before feeling that old familiar ache begin in my chest, forcing it out in three deep breaths. Before pushing my shoulders up, willing to shed any tears to crawl back in. 

This is not the time to mope. I go. And tears never fix things. 

"Fine then." I breathe, meeting my twin's gaze in the mirror. Her own resolve only solidified mine.

"If no one shall braid it. It won't be." I started and reached for the shawl. Already convincing myself it won't be bad to have it covered again. Hot, yes. But not bad.

And I mean, it would be good not to make anyone sick like Naska offered. I smirk a little to myself.

"Once I'm done with the chains." I'll try to figure out what to do with the dress. I plan, moving to start clicking on the chains easily enough. Save for one. One in particular is hard to snap. 

"Why won't this-"

A knock on the door has me stop, arms still up. 

Is it Naska? Was she back to help? My eyes widen with hope. Immediately, lifting at the idea. 

"Come in," I call, turning back to fiddle with the golden lobster claw once more, sticking my tongue out the side of my mouth in concentration.

"Naska, help me with this latch. It's stuck." I venture as the door closes before I can hear her walk across the wooden floor. But her footsteps sound off. Strange. They clicked as they moved. Like heels

But Naska doesn't wear heels. I know. Then who is this? 

I turn to see them make my breath ball up in the middle of my throat. Dropping my jaw a little, and I blink back at them in confusion. This doesn't make sense- they are the last person I would expect to see in my room. 

And when I can manage to find my voice, it irks out as weak as a kitten's.

"What are you doing here?"