"Outwitted (Part 18)" an original work of fiction for the #365dayso...

This is today's offering (day 180) for @mydivathings' #365daysofwriting challenge (click here to see her current post)

Today's picture prompt (below) is a Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

I started, as the sound of the door opening - no creaking of hinges, or loud crash, but a soft sound of the movement of air - brought me back to the present. Lost in my thoughts, I had not heard footsteps approach, turning to the door, I expected to see the serving girl, or perhaps Grevyl, but was surprised to see my sister, a smile on her lips.

“You look better, dear brother,” she said. “You should take better care of yourself.”

I put down the small stone carving I had been examining, and returned her smile.

“Thank you, Mathilde,” I said. “But you were always better at looking after yourself, than I.”

Mathilde’s smile faltered a little, which pleased me. She closed the door gently and walked over to a sofa, the material of the flowing gown she wore making a gentle woosh noise as she moved.

“Come and join me,” she said. “I think we need to talk.”

She patted the cushion next to her, but I chose a chair opposite. I wanted to watch her carefully. If she took this as another slight, her face did not betray her, she smiled and leaned back. I did not speak, waiting for her to begin. We sat in silence for a minute or two.

“Do you remember the summer before the war?” she began suddenly. “Before everything changed, long before father’s work caught the attention of the KIng, before we moved to the Big House?”

Of course I remembered.

“Remind me,” I said.

Mathilde’s smile seemed sad somehow.

“It was the last time we spent time together as a family,” she said. “We went to visit Uncle Jacques, do you remember? You were only a child. Perhaps you’ve forgotten.”

Wondering where she was trying to lead me, I nodded.

“The lake house,” I said, and was rewarded with a big smile.

“Yes!” she leaned forward resting her elbows on her knee and her face on her palm of her hands. Just like she used to do when she would tell me one of the stories she used to make up in the evenings, in front of the fire, before we were shooed off to bed by Mother. Her eyes twinkled. “Do you remember that day when Father decided we should all learn how to fish? He woke us all up and it was still dark! And-”

“And mother said ‘I don’t see why we should get up before the sun does!’” I finished.

Mathilde laughed. It was a tinkley thing, pretty, and innocent. It reminded me of some of the things I used to love about my sister.

“She never was a morning person,” Mathilde said. “I think I inherited that from her. I remember you were so excited, that morning. You couldn’t even wait for help to get dressed and somehow managed to put both your feet in the same leg of your trousers and fell over!” I didn’t remember that. I did remember all of us down on the jetty, watching the sun come up. I remembered my father patiently showing us both how to use the fishing rod, whilst my mother looked on. I remembered Mathilde helping me land my first fish. I remembered that feeling of love. Of what it is like to be loved. And what it is like to love.

But things change. Circumstances change. People change. Or perhaps they do not change. Perhaps, the passage of time simply allows one's true nature to emerge.

“What is this about, Mathilde?” I asked, the smile dropping from my face. “This little trip to our shared past, what are you trying to achieve?”

She was still smiling, but her eyes - looking deep into mine - were sad.

“I just wanted to remind you, my dear brother, that we were not always like this. That once we loved each other.” She reached out with both her hands and took mine. “I still love you. Even after everything you’ve done.”

“Very sweet,” I said, shaking my hands free of hers. I stood up and moved to the other side of the room. “But unfortunately for you, that feeling is not reciprocated.” I grabbed the three amulets I had hidden, beginning the spell. But when I turned, ready to release its power, my sister had vanished.

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Part nineteen: @felt.buzz/outwitted-part-19-an-original-work-of-fiction-for-365daysofwriting-challenge

"Outwitted (Part 18)" an original work of fiction for the #365daysofwriting challenge