WYLLA had, indeed, stolen a bottle of her father's wine.

Asmeen hadn't expected her to actually do it, and she didn't think Elyn had either, but nevertheless when they came up from dinner, Wylla pulled out a large glass bottle from inside their cupboard.

Asmeen only stared, wide-eyed, as Wylla pulled out two cups—thankfully, not made of glass.

"Elyn already said she won't take part, so this is for us," Wylla said, looking quite smug.

"I'm quite thankful for that," Elyn said, laying down. Still, she kept her eyes open.

"Are you serious, Wylla?" Asmeen asked. "Won't they find out?"

Wylla rolled her eyes. "Haven't you seen how many bottles they have in the cellar? They won't notice a thing. If they do, I'll say I accidentally broke one."

"A weak excuse," Elyn muttered.

Wylla shot her a glare. "Besides, we deserve it, after today."

Asmeen sighed. Dinner had been...complicated. Obviously, their fathers had been proud, but—well, dinner had involved less congratulations and more a thorough dissecting of why they hadn't made it in years past. For her, it was a simple lack of skill. For the twins, it was a series of misfortunes—illness, injury, and, of course, that lack of skill that seemed to run through their blood.

All in all, Asmeen found that she wasn't as averse to the idea of drinking from a pilfered bottle as she might have been on another day.

Elyn rolled her eyes. "Just keep it down. Tomorrow will be even worse than today, most likely."

"Why are you always so dark, El?" Wylla asked, sighing. "Leave tomorrow in tomorrow. Right now, I am going to focus on this." She held up the bottle in front of the window, moonlight making it look like blood.

"Just don't overdo it," Elyn advised. "It won't do well to show up tomorrow with a headache."

"Of course not." Wylla scoffed, pulling out the cork with a soft pop. "It's not the first time I've drunk, of course. I can handle it."

There was a short silence.

"What?" Wylla asked, looking at them wide-eyed. "Didn't I tell you?"

"You did not," Elyn said, her lips pursed.

"When?" Asmeen asked. How had Wylla gotten wine? That she would drink it, Asmeen had no doubt, but she lived with Wylla. She would've noticed if Wylla had snuck something in.

Wylla just shrugged, looking unrepentant. "With friends, once. I didn't drink too much."

Elyn blew out a long breath and pulled the blanket over herself, turning onto her side, her back to them. "Good night," she said decisively.

"Goodnight," Asmeen said, shaking her head. Who would have thought that of Wylla? She was a bit of a rule breaker, but she'd never gone that far. More amazing was the fact that she hadn't told them. Not even Elyn.

"Don't hog the blanket!" Wylla called to Elyn. Then she turned to Asmeen, holding up the bottle. "Ready?"

Asmeen bit her lip.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm your elder sister, I'll take care of you," Wylla said. When Asmeen didn't respond, her face softened. "You don't have to if you don't want to. I can go and get some of the apple cider from downstairs. I mean it."

Asmeen pondered over it. She'd been ready to before, but the more time passed, the more she felt unsure. How disappointed, how angry would her father be if he found out? They'd be in such big trouble.

She nodded at Wylla. "Apple cider, please."

Wylla grinned, no traces of reproach on her face, and Asmeen felt relieved. "Be back in a breath, then."

Asmeen watched, curling her knees up to her chest as Wylla walked out, her footsteps silent. Then she glanced at Elyn. "I know you're not asleep."

"I wasn't trying to hide it," Elyn pointed out, her eyes still closed. Her voice was definitely tired. "I think you made the right choice."

Asmeen couldn't help it. She chuckled. "Of course you do."

Elyn's lips tightened. "Just because I follow rules—"

"Nothing wrong with that," Asmeen said hurriedly. "You're right. Technically we shouldn't be drinking, not until our twentieth. If anyone outside the house found out, Dara and Osoric would probably kick us out."

Elyn nodded, turning onto her back and opening her eyes. "Exactly. Wylla's always had a bit of a disregard for rules. Even rules made for our own benefit."

Asmeen let out a soft laugh. "She's always been like that. She won't do anything truly harmful, though."

Elyn only shrugged.

"Well, now that it's only apple cider, why don't you join us? We won't get in much trouble for that."

"No thank you," Elyn said, "I'd like to be well-rested for tomorrow. The two of you can do whatever you please."

Asmeen shrugged. "If you're sure."

Elyn opened her mouth to say something else, but right then, they heard a loud crash from downstairs.

It was unmistakably glass breaking.

The two of them shared a glance before leaping out of bed and running down the stairs, their bare feet thudding on the cold floor. When they reached the entrance to the cellar, they saw Wylla, inside, shards of glass lying at her feet, deep maroon liquid splattered all over the floor.

"Your feet!" Elyn gasped, her normal composure dropping.

Wylla's feet were cut, drops of blood dripping down her ankles. She winced, glancing at them, and then her gaze flew behind them.

Asmeen turned, feeling like molten lead was stuck in her throat, to see their fathers behind them.

Azol, in one of his usual silky robes was looking at the scene, wide-eyed, and Asmeen's father, a wide, towering presence beside them, was glaring at her, arms crossed.

"It was my fault!" Wylla exclaimed, still standing there with blood running down her feet.

"What is going on, Wylla?" Azol asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I—I wanted to celebrate, and I came to get some cider. I dropped a bottle of wine on accident," Wylla said.

It was a flimsy lie, but their parents didn't seem to pick up on it.

"At this time of night?" Asmeen's father thundered. "You have to go for your first day of the final round tomorrow, and this is what you do?"

Asmeen exchanged a worried look with Wylla.

"Do you know how important it is that you three do well?" He said, nearly shouting. He glanced at Asmeen, and she immediately looked at the floor, not wanting to meet his eyes. "Especially you, Asmeen! Do you know what it's like? Your mother was the leader of the Flower Children, and you can't even make it in the group? Do you know the things people say about us?"

Asmeen swallowed, her vision of the floor blurring. She knew full well, of course, how much of a disappointment she was, to her family. To her mother. To her father.

"Taul." Azol placed a gentle hand on her father's palm. "We'll talk to them in the morning." When he turned back to the girls, his eyes were hard. "Wylla, tend to your feet. The two of you, clean this up. And go to bed. Immediately."

"Yes, Papa," Elyn murmured.

The two of them stalked off, back to their room, leaving the three of them in heavy silence.

"I'm so sorry!" Wylla exclaimed. "I was just—I tripped! I don't know what happened!"

Elyn looked like she had plenty to say, but she shook her head. "Asmeen, get some bandages. Wylla, come."

She helped Wylla to a chair while Asmeen hurried to get bandages, returning to find Elyn washing Wylla's feet in a basin, Wylla grimacing as the water touched her wounds.

"Here," Asmeen muttered, handing them to Elyn. She cleaned the mess as Elyn checked for glass and then bound the wounds tightly. The blood had mostly stopped flowing by then. It wasn't as bad as it had seemed when she was standing there, in the middle of all the glass and wine.

"Can you walk?" Elyn asked sharply.

Normally Wylla would have responded cheekily, but this time she only nodded, and the three of them walked back upstairs and crashed onto their bed. They didn't say anything, only pulled the blankets over themselves and went to sleep in complete silence.

Oh, dear. That happened. Well, we're getting to know the sisters a bit better. I wonder which one you like so far.

See you next chapter!