Alisiyad

by Sarah R. Suleski

  “What?”

  “My parents died when I was only a few months old. I was their first and only child.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. But why—”

  “Is it never spoken of?” Eliasha tilted her head to the side and pretended to be inspecting the trees for a moment. “I wouldn’t know where to start. But Grandfather doesn’t allow anyone to speak their names in his presence. He was very upset with them for dying. And everyone is so cautious about the whole matter that their existence is hardly ever mentioned anymore. That is how you go about forgetting people, isn’t it?”

  “I—”

  “Do you have siblings? But of course you do; you mentioned a sister.”

  “Yeah . . . .” Liseli blinked as she tried to switch over. “Leona. She’s your age; she just turned eighteen. And I have a brother who’s fourteen and another sister who’s three.”

  “That must be so nice,” Eliasha sighed. “I’ve always wanted siblings. A sister, especially. Grandfather’s so terribly overprotective that I have few friends besides servants. Otherwise I have to entertain all Grandfather’s old, boring guests. You can’t imagine how nice it is to have the both of you show up, you’re—” she stopped and looked at Russ. “Are we forgetting you?” She affected a pout, which Liseli thought was a bit much.

  “You don’t have to mope around back there,” she said, crossing her arms as she looked back at him. He had been following a few paces behind, staring down as he plucked quietly at the guitar.

  “Yes. Come walk with us.” Eliasha motioned, stepping to the side so that there was a space between her and Liseli.

  “I wasn’t moping . . . .” Russ lowered the guitar and came between them, looking uncomfortable as he glanced to either side.

  Eliasha grinned as she looped her arm through his. Liseli was about to do no such thing. She kept her arms crossed and looked away. “How many do you have?” Eliasha asked.

  “What?” Russ said without exhaling.

  “Siblings! That’s what we’re talking about,” Eliasha laughed at him. “Weren’t you paying attention? I was saying how much I’ve always wanted a sister my age.”

  “Oh,” he made a sound that was almost a grunt. “You can have my sister if you want. She’s twenty-five but that’s close enough.”

  Eliasha laughed and hit his arm lightly, but Liseli could imagine him saying the exact same thing in the exact same tone to a meat processor. She shook her head. She missed her sister. And now that she thought about it, Eliasha reminded her of Leona . . . she laughed a lot and flirted with every boy she came across. It was ridiculous.

  “You never said what you do instead of running the household,” Liseli reminded her. If she was really anything like Leona her favorite pastime should be shopping for clothes, or mixing and matching different outfits — her version of clothing design. Along with trying out new hairstyles and makeup, and dating. Dating seemed to be pretty much out of the question for Eliasha, from what she’d said about her grandfather so far.

  “Well . . . .” Eliasha dipped her head to the side thoughtfully. She was still hanging off of Russ. “I enjoy sewing. Do you like this dress?” Eliasha paused and finally released Russ’s arm. She took a step out in front of them and spun around, holding her arms up to present herself. “I made it for Aysha’s Day this year, but I couldn’t wait so I’m wearing it today already.”

  Exactly. Liseli couldn’t help but twitch a smile; that was vintage Leona. It was almost scary. “Ah. It’s really nice. And that shade of blue looks good on you,” she nodded. Russ was staring at the ground, so she arched an eyebrow at him, feeling spiteful. “Don’t you think so, Russell?”

  He swung the guitar up in front of himself like a shield, resting his chin on the bottom part. “ . . . Yes . . . ” he answered deliberately, looking sidelong at the outfit in question.

  “Thank you.” Eliasha looked pleased, brushing at the skirt as she resumed her stride. They were advancing upon a small stone bridge over a stream. “I make all my dresses. I want to make sure they’re just right; I won’t leave it to the servants. I made that dress,” she nodded at what Liseli was wearing.

  Liseli smiled wanly. “This is one of your dresses too? Oh. It’s nice.” She reached up automatically to adjust the shoulders, knowing Eliasha would look ten times better in it. She, on the other hand, managed to make Eliasha’s handiwork look frumpy. A frumpy serving girl.

  “You know, you should really get a strap for this,” Russ said, suddenly absorbed in inspecting the guitar. “It would make it easier to carry around.” He tapped it and nodded. “You can swing it over your shoulder or your back. Like this—” he demonstrated without making eye contact with either of them.

  “That’s a good idea,” Eliasha gushed, reaching out to take the guitar from him. “I’ll have to make a strap to put on it. You’re very clever.”

  “Uh . . . thanks,” Russ mumbled. Liseli turned to the side and rolled her eyes. Just then a loud and solemn bell tolled somewhere, and Eliasha jumped.

  “Goodness! It’s dinnertime already, and here we are still in the garden.” She turned as if to scamper up the path toward the bridge a few feet away. But then she stopped and put a hand to her cheek, “Oh! I left my cape and shawl over by the wall. Silly! I’m always forgetting things and leaving them lie around. I have to get them, I’ll be back in a moment,” she waved her hand and trotted off back the way they’d come, hugging the guitar to her side.

  Chapter 10 ~ Flirt, part 2

  “Huh,” Liseli half-laughed, shaking her head. “All over the place, isn’t she?”

  Russ shrugged and crossed his arms. “I dunno. She’s, uh . . . ” he glanced at Liseli and then at the trees, “ . . . nice.”

  “Well of course.” Liseli turned and walked onto the bridge. “You would think so.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Russ followed, then slouched against the side of the bridge. She leaned over the rail with her elbows resting on top, and looked into the water. “I didn’t say she wasn’t ‘nice.’ She’s nice . . . but affected. And kind of loopy.” She shrugged. “I know the type, I have a sister just like her. She’s okay. Just tries too hard to be charming.” She nodded, satisfied with her assessment.

  “I meant the part about me thinking so.”

  She rolled her eyes and her head this time, giving him a don’t play stupid with me look. Then she batted her eyelashes and cooed, “You’re sooo clever and you play the guitar so-ooo well.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He rubbed his neck and looked away.

  “Did you invent the guitar, Russell?” she persisted, leaning toward him.

  “You’re exaggerating,” he cringed. “She was just being nice.”

  Liseli snorted. “Uh-huh. She was all over you.” She stepped back and impatiently grabbed the dress, which had started to slither down her right shoulder. “It was embarrassing to watch,” she snapped, then fixed her eyes on the stones at her feet. She hadn’t meant to sound so vehement. Eliasha was nothing but a silly little flirt. That was all. “Well, she made a fool of herself, anyway.”

  “Yeah, right.” Russ made an exaggerated nod. “Just ’cause she was nice to me.”

  “Oh God, don’t play the victim.” Liseli felt like hitting him. “She was flirting. Anyone who flirts is acting like a fool.” She’d told Leona that too many times to count.

  “You would know,” he muttered into his chest, not looking at her.

  She stood up straight, indignation washing over her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  He raised one shoulder.

  “I have never flirted in my life,” she sniffed, walking to the other side of the bridge.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Liseli stood across from him and pinned him with a glare. “I mean it. If you think I’m a flirt you’re crazy.”

  “I didn’t say you were.” He refused to look at her, staring hard at everything else around them.

  “Yes, you did. And you did it just to insult me,” Liseli
huffed. “You’re . . . a . . . jerk.”

  He pushed off the railing and kicked at the stones. “Okay, fine — what do you call this morning, besides flirting? Huh?”

  Oh crap. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She looked away, monitoring a bird perched on the overhanging bough of a tree, as if she really found it interesting.

  “You do too.”

  She sniffed. “I wasn’t flirting, how can you say that?”

  “Right, you kissed me, remember?” He rolled his eyes. “And that wasn’t flirting?”

  “Shut up,” she snapped, putting her back to him. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and glowered at the lily pads floating on the water. He did shut up, but she could feel him watching her. She’d known she would regret kissing him. It was a mistake. She’d forgotten herself. A flirt. Liseli clenched her fists, bunching up the excess folds of her dress between her fingers. Bastard. He would regret calling her that. Yes, he would.

  Russ sighed, and came nearer, leaning against the railing next to her. “Okay, I’m sorry,” he said, and even though she wouldn’t look at him, she could hear the eye-roll in his tone. “You’re not a flirt, and I’m sorry I said so.” He paused; she tilted her nose in the air and stared ahead with her eyes half closed. “I didn’t know it would bother you so much.” Silence. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to make this morning seem like a bad thing . . . I was kind of hoping . . . anyway . . . . It’s my fault. I won’t do it again. Okay?” The longer she refused to respond the more miserable he sounded. Good. He deserved it.

  “Say something.” He hovered his hand over her shoulder.

  She shrugged it away. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Liseli, come on.” He reached out again.

  She turned on him and knocked his hand away, ignoring the pain that shot through the side of her hand as it contacted his wrist. “I said don’t touch me!” she seethed, “You don’t think I mean what I say? Am I flirting now?” He winced and stepped back, but she persisted, stalking forward as she hissed, “Do you really think that I’m just playing games every time I’ve yelled at you and told you I’m pissed off in so many words?”

  “No! I—”

  “Then what?” She dug her hands into her hips and glared with all her might. “You have never taken anything I’ve said seriously. Ever.”

  He took a deep breath and stared at the sky a moment before replying: “That’s not true.”

  His measured response just made her angrier. “Liar!” she spat. “It is! You always just smile at me like a big dope; ‘Oh, you’re so funny when you’re mad; tell another joke’—” she shoved him in the chest with both hands as hard as she could; he stumbled back and put his hand on the bridge. “Well, am I funny now?”

  “Li—”

  “Don’t ‘Liseli’ me!” She shoved him again. “Am I funny now?”

  “No.” He held up his hands, cringing.

  “Good! I’m glad!” She waved her hands threateningly. “And you can forget about this morning, because it’s never gonna happen again. I won’t make the same mistake twice. I won’t . . . .” She paused, trying to calm down. “You won’t catch me flirting again; be sure of that.”

  “I’d figured as much already,” he muttered, looking away. “I never thought you meant that kiss, anyway.”

  “I meant it then, that was the mistake, you jerk.” She crossed her arms over her chest and held the shoulders of the dress tightly.

  Russ leaned in, his jaw set in an angry way she’d rarely seen. “Yeah. Right. Flirt.”

  She slapped him, hard, snapping his head to the side and leaving a red spot on the left side of his face. Her hand stung as she drew it back. But she clenched her jaw and squeezed her hand into a fist down at her side. Russ blinked rapidly and stared at the ground. Liseli wanted to apologize, but she couldn’t. He turned around and walked away stiffly, lifting his head only when his back was to her.

  “Russ . . . .” He didn’t look back. Liseli sighed and sagged against the bridge. But then she jumped, seeing Eliasha standing at the edge of the bridge with her cape and shawl draped over one arm. She wasn’t smiling. Liseli turned red and felt her nerves clench. How long had she been standing there?

  “We were just . . . talking,” she said stiffly, then cleared her throat and looked at her feet.

  “Come on.” Eliasha shook her head, striding forward. “We’re late for dinner. They’re going to be furious when we go missing.” She took Liseli by the arm, pulling her along. “The family dinner before Aysha’s Day is extremely important to them . . . to us.” She nodded. “I can’t remember there ever being guests before. You should feel very honored to be invited.”

  “I am very honored,” Liseli managed half-heartedly.

  “Well of course, but look it,” Eliasha sounded dead serious for the first time. “It’s going to be miserable enough without the two of you going at each other.”

  “He doesn’t respect me.” Liseli didn’t feel like looking honored at that moment.

  “Huh. I can see why, with you kissing him one moment and hitting him the next.” Eliasha shifted the cape on her arm and rolled her eyes.

  Liseli stared at her. “It wasn’t a moment,” she sniffed, feeling the threat of tears welling up. “You wouldn’t understand.” She shook her head, blinking.

  Eliasha looked ahead at the trees. Russ had disappeared from sight. “You’re right. I don’t understand you at all,” she said.

  Liseli yanked her arm away. “No, you don’t. But I know you; you’re exactly the kind of girl I’m not.”

  Eliasha’s eyes widened and she put a hand to her chest. “And what am I?”

  Liseli stepped back and crossed her arms. “A flirt.”

  Eliasha shrugged and lowered her eyes with little concern. “I have never played with anyone’s heart, if that’s what you mean,” she said coolly. “I was trying to make friends today. I don’t know what you think you’re doing.” She looked up and arched an eyebrow.

  “I lost my temper.” Liseli looked away. “He called me a flirt. You don’t know what that means to me. You don’t understand our relationship.” Liseli swallowed. She couldn’t even begin to understand it herself, but she wasn’t about to let Eliasha think she could figure it out that easily.

  “You just called me a flirt.” Eliasha spread out her arms. “And that is the worst insult, to you? How am I supposed to react, now? You are a stranger and a guest, and you insult me to my face? That is how you react to hospitality?”

  “Hospitality?” Liseli’s voice rose. “You were hanging all over my . . . my . . . .”

  “Your what? Is he your husband? Intended? Beau, even? I was under the—”

  “He’s mine,” Liseli snapped. “That’s all.”

  Silence hung between them.

  Eliasha made a show of studying the clothes she held. “Well. I think that we could be friends or enemies, Liseli Luenford. But it’s up to you.” She looked up and met Liseli’s eyes. “I have no desire to steal your man from you. You can believe me, or not.”

  Liseli sighed, feeling almost defeated. “Look . . . Eliasha . . . I have to say this. You remind me of my little sister. It’s weird. Your mannerisms. The way you talk sometimes.” She laughed and looked up. “Leona’s the tall, beautiful one. Auburn hair that’s wavy instead of,” she waved her hand at her frizz, “this. And she uses every inch of her beauty. Boys, boys, boys. She knows what to do with them. I don’t. We’re always lecturing each other . . . arguing about who’s the screw up. She thinks I’m a frustrated old bitch and I think she’s a shameless little hussy. We’re probably both right and both wrong.” She shrugged. “But even though we fight, we love each other. I miss her right now. I wish she were here right now so I could . . . could cry on her shoulder like an idiot, and ask her how I’m supposed to deal with Russ.”

  “Because she’s your sister,” smiled Eliasha.

  “That’s right.” Liseli looked her in the eye again. “You’re not my sister, Eliash
a.”

  Eliasha stiffened. She looked down. “Of course not, I’m only the lady of the house you’re lucky to be a guest in.” She turned on her heel and walked up the path briskly.

  “I’m sorry.” Liseli followed her. “Let’s try to be polite, then. I’ll control my temper. You leave Russ alone. We’ll get along.”

  Eliasha looked over her shoulder. “Do you want to know how my parents died, Liseli?” she asked suddenly, an edge to her voice.

  Liseli blinked in surprise. “What?”

  “You’re going to find out.” Eliasha hastened her steps, and Liseli had to pick up her skirt and jog to follow her into the dining room.

  Chapter 11 ~ Dogseye

  Russ sat on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at his hands. He had peered into the bedroom mirror briefly, to see if the print of her hand was still there. But he hated his reflection, and couldn’t look long. He almost wanted to break the mirror when he saw himself in it. He wondered if he could get out of dinner if he just stayed in the room. According to the bell it had started minutes ago, anyway.

  He touched the side of his face. She’d hit him . . . that meant something. She’d threatened all sorts of pain in the past, but this was the first time she’d actually done it, freed from the confines of good behavior at the Burger House. Or maybe what he’d said had actually hurt and angered her deeply enough to make her snap. He wondered. Could he even do that? That would mean she cared . . . wouldn’t it? He shook his head. Most likely she just didn’t like the truth flung in her face. But what was the truth?

  She had to know. She couldn’t be oblivious enough to not realize how all her saucy looks and poses . . . crossing her arms under her breasts, putting her hands on her hips and thrusting them to the side, flicking her hair around . . . she had to know that got him. And she did it all the time, just to drive him crazy, out of spite. And the way she talked to him . . . teasing sometimes, always challenging. And she claimed she never flirted. Ha.