Her sword whipped in the air in front of her and clanged against another. Sweat dripped down her copper skin as she lifted her sword to counter the move of her opponent.

The clanging of swords echoed through the room as the two continued their fierce battle. A blunt blade against a razor-sharp one, a seasoned warrior against one who was just starting to learn.

Lillian smiled leisurely as her sister's sword came at her. She gave a twirl to dodge the oncoming attack and lifted her sword in a quick move to disarm her little sister. In a flash, she was behind her, her arm wrapped around her younger counterpart's torso with the tip of her blade pointed at her neck.

Her little sister groaned as she pulled away, and whined, "How come you always win?"

Lillian smiled, "It comes with practice, sweetie. You'll get there too."

"I sure hope so, because like hell can I live life without knowing how to fight! I need to learn!"

"And you will." Lillian bopped her on the nose and smiled at how it scrunched up.

Her little sister's eyes dug into her face, noticing that her sister's smile had a hint of sadness to it.

That was usual. Ever since the disappearance... Well, Lillian hadn't been doing well.

She was forever locked up in the library with various scholars, pouring over maps and trying to decipher the precise location where he could be held captive. She barely took a break, and when she did it was either to eat food, use the washroom, or practice with her little sister, who could see that this mattered a lot to her.

But that didn't stop her from wishing that things were the way they used to be before they had to deal with so much.

Lillian handed her little sister her water bottle and got into her fighting stance again.

She was crouched slightly, her sword held out in front of her. Her almond skin shone with a sheen of sweat, her under-eyes were adorned with bags, and her hair was pulled back into a bun.

She could see the tiredness in her older sister's eyes, and the weariness in her posture. She felt a pang in her heart, seeing Lillian like this.

A Lillian who had let go, in a way.

No one but Lillian's family knew the real her. And that too, not truly. Lillian had been veiled by masks too long for anyone to truly recognize her. The Cold Princess was too shielding of herself to let it all go.

She neglected to think about the fact that she knew the real Lillian. The fragile Lillian who loved her little sister more than anything in the whole world.

But apart from her, no one knew her older sister, for Lillian pushed them away when they tried to.

Lillian caught her sister's intent gaze on her, and she raised herself up and walked to her little sister.

"What are you thinking, D?"

She looked away. "Nothing, just that I hardly ever see you these days. You're always in the library."

Another sad smile broke out across her older sister's face as she crouched down and looked at her little sister.

She was 8 years younger than her, and yet she looked so much like her. The same nose, the same eyes, and the same bone structure. The only way that they differed was their skin tones and hair.

While Lillian had a darker, almond brown skin, her little sister's was more of a copper color that seemed to glow if subjected to the right amount of light. Lillian's hair was long and wavy, while her younger sister's hair was slightly shorter and curly.

Even though Lillian's sister looked so much like her, Lillian was shocked every time she stared at that face and found herself looking into her own eyes. The same sea of brown that stared back at her, just as intelligent and mature as hers.

She supposed that time and circumstances had forced both of them to grow up, but her little sister had to grow up more than Lillian herself.

Lillian had lost one person, but her little sister had lost two.

This was why Lillian promised herself that she wouldn't let her sister suffer more.

"Diya, it'll all be back to normal soon. Just give me a few days."

══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ══════

Diya had always known that change was the one constant in life and that there was nothing in the world if not change.

Everyone changed, but sometimes, it was hard to let go of the person you were before you changed. Nostalgia would eat at you, and you'd drown in the sea of knowing that you lost someone while having them with you.

But what changed everyone the most was the grief of actually losing someone they loved, as she and Lillian had.

So Diya just looked up at her sister and nodded, saying, "Ok."

Lillian's face contorted into a smile as she wrapped her arms around her little sister and pulled her closer.

She smiled against Lillian's shoulder.

She knew one thing. No matter how much Lillian changed, she'd still love her. Love her beyond words and rational thoughts.

Lillian pulled away from her and pushed a strand of Diya's hair behind her ear before she stood up.

"Now, do you want to have another go at combat?"

Before Diya could reply, a shout broke through the air, "Girls! Why aren't you ready yet?"

Diya looked at her older sister, and just as she had expected, she saw that her face was unreadable again. A cold, calculating look had taken over the previously gentle features as Lillian became the cold princess once again.

Sometimes, she wished that her sister wasn't so guarded.

"Ready for what, maa?" asked Lillian as their mother approached them.

Sheila Singh was dressed in a salwar-kameez and traditional flats, as though she was going to some festival. Her jet black hair was pulled back into a bun, and a phulkari chunni was draped over her shoulders. A miniature tiara sat on her head instead of the elaborate crown that was a sign of her being the queen.

"Don't you remember? We were supposed to go and pray today. Pray that we find him soon."

Diya winced as her mother brought him up, and Lillian's expression hardened minutely. She knew that Lillian felt that their mother had no right to care about him, for she didn't love him.

It never occurred to Lillian, as it did to Diya, that her mother did love him, even if it was only slightly.

But this was mostly for her daughters. They needed him, and she was willing to do anything for the two girls she had birthed. Even if it meant giving them false hope or hunting him down for them.

Diya had always been more observant than her older sister, hiding behind her shyness and quietness, just noticing. Her sister was the louder one, the one whose shadow Diya hid behind in order to not be seen.

"You still believe that merely praying will bring him back to us, maa?" Lillian asked.

Lillian believed that they shouldn't beg at the feet of God. After all, God didn't possess everything, but could only give them something by snatching it from another.

"I, unlike you, Lillian, believe that Waheguru will do something for us. He is, after all, the helper of poor souls."

"What's to even say that God is a he?"

At this, her mother paused. A small smile broke out across her face as she said, "Fine, they are the helper of all poor souls."

Lillian's face was still unreadable, but Diya tugged at her hand and looked up to her, mouthing one word, Please.

Lillian looked up at her mother. "Give me an hour. I'll get Dee ready and bring her to you."

Sheila sighed, "What about you?"

"I'll be ready too," she promised, and her little sister and mother smiled.

══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ══════

Lillian had one recurring nightmare. Every night, the same scene would haunt her dreams. No matter how much she tried to overcome her fear, it just wouldn't happen.

So she gave up sleeping.

Lillian was a coward, and she knew it full well. Instead of accepting her fear and trying to overcome it, she ran from it. She ran as fast and as far as she could, hoping it wouldn't chase after her.

Running from it would only make it chase after her, faster and with more vigor. But she hoped, blindly, that it would stop chasing her. It would give up and go away, realizing that it could never catch her.

But whenever she closed her eyes, it flashed in front of her again. Burning across her retinas, shades of red and black flashed in front of her eyes as faces appeared around her, telling her about the fact that no matter what she did, she would fail.

There was his face, there was Diya's face, there was her mother's face, and then there was a face she didn't recognize. She could never make out the exact features, but she saw that it was light. Almost not there, but the soft voice that belonged to that face was always there.

You'll find me one day, and the one thing you've been haunted by since your childhood will continue to haunt you for the rest of your life.

She couldn't afford to think of that face, for she knew that even thinking of the possibilities could make her break.

She knew that her wish was irrational, and that wishing what she wished for was like nurturing a solitary flame as the rain around her fell. It was near impossible for her fish to ever come true.

She knew that wishes didn't come true, especially if you weren't a holy saint.

A holy saint was something she was far from. She was a devil with cigarettes and whiskey stashed in her drawers and tattoos embellishing her skin with phrases that were definitely not saintly.

Water was falling down her body as she thought, her hands rubbing shampoo into her long hair.

She caught sight of the words and illustrations inked permanently across her wrist.

A wilting lily flower, and circling around it were the words, Life will make you wilt in the end.

It was, she knew, pessimistic of her to have the words permanently embedded into her skin, but she knew that it was true.

She liked to think that she wasn't a cynic, but that she had looked at life in a thousand different ways but hadn't come up with a conclusion other than what she'd had inked into her skin. Life was shit, and it would never cease to kill you slowly.

Her little sister's voice broke her thoughts.

"Lils, are you coming out anytime soon?", Diya shouted.

"Give me a minute!", she replied and turned the shower off, getting out of the glass partition.

She caught sight of herself in the mirror.

She didn't look particularly pretty, or even pretty.

Her eyes were too far away from each other, and her nose was too large. Her cheeks were hollow like she hadn't had enough food as of late. 

Her body wasn't as perfect as they expected it to be. Instead of being slim and willowy, she had bulging arm muscles and her height wasn't quite as tall as she'd like it to be. 

Her hair was messy, never under her control, and was always stuck to the side of her neck with strands too far apart from each other. 

In short, she didn't look anything like the queen she was supposed to. Nothing about her appearance spoke, 'regal', or 'elegant'. She was just a plain girl who wasn't much of a looker. 

Or a looker at all, really. 

She broke out of her thoughts and quickly dried herself off before throwing on a bathrobe and walking out to where her sister was waiting for her.

Diya was bouncing slightly. This had to have been the longest time they kept Lillian out of the library, and she was ecstatic to be spending so much more time with her older sister, even if it was mostly against Lillian's will.

"What do I wear?" she asked.

Lillian smiled a little and walked up to Diya's side of the room to open her closet and look through the clothes there.

When Diya was younger, the two had separate rooms on the same floor. They were next to each other, but Diya couldn't sleep alone. She would sneak through the dark halls, into her older sister's room, and slither into her bed.

When their parents found out, they moved the two girls to a huge, single room so that Diya didn't have to sneak into Lillian's room every night.

Lillian finally pulled out an outfit for her little sister and ruffled her hair as she walked to her side of the room and drew the screen between them so that they could have some privacy while they dressed.

Lillian got rid of her robe and pulled on the outfit that she had already set out for herself. "Dee, don't forget to wear your anklets!" she reminded her little sister as she fastened the buttons on her coat.

"I won't, Lils." Diya rolled her eyes as she said that, and pulled out her anklets from a jewelry box she kept on the vanity table on her side of the room, along with a pair of bangles that she thought would go with her outfit.

Lillian pulled the screen between them away and she walked over to where Diya was sitting on her vanity table. She gently took a brush and started to brush her little sister's hair, trying to pull it up into a french braid just like her sister loved.

Diya was always one for dressing up, and she let her sister do her thing to her hair as she combined the bangles into a pattern she liked and slipped them on.

She handed her sister a paranda to interweave into her braid, and Lillian smiled slightly before asking, "Isn't this a bit too traditional?"

Diya shrugged. "Trusting maa, we're going to a place where I need to be fancy."

══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ══════

Lillian was looking at another map. The light by the side of her bed was on, and Diya had snuggled up in bed next to her. One of Lillian's hands was stroking her hair as she poured over the map, trying to decipher the spots where he could have gone.

She had been doing this for the past four years. Each day, she put everything into finding him.

It's not just for me, she tried to console herself, it's for the people of this kingdom. They can't have a queen as damaged as me.

She didn't know when she fell asleep, but the next memory she had was waking up by her mother shaking her shoulders, disentangling her from her little sister, and helping her up.

"Lillian, you need to go," she whispered.

"Where?" she asked.

Sheila sighed, and whispered, "The King and Queen of Anysoes have requested all the rulers to collect at their castle for a ball. They have some bad news."

"But why me? You're the queen!" Lillian exclaimed softly.

Her mother gave her a small smile. "It's time you took your duties seriously, Lillian. After all, he isn't coming back, and a kingdom needs a proper ruler."

══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ══════

Adhara's Letters!

Hiya, guys! As you've already discovered, Diya is Lillian's only soft spot. She would live and die for that girl without a second thought, which honestly makes me want an older sister :)

And yes, I am heavily incorprating my culture into this. If you don't understand the terms I'm using, just google them up. Also add Punjabi as a search word, because I'm pretty sure that makes a difference in some terms.

QOTD: Have you ever eaten something disgusting without knowing that it's disgusting?

AOTD: Yes, I have. When I was 8, we went to Wendy's to have dinner with some family friends. I and this dude ( the family friends' son ) ordered cheeseburgers. We, being ignorant kids and parents, didn't know that they have beef. Now, if you're Indian, you probably know that we don't eat beef. It's not as strict for me, since I'm not Hindu, but it was strict for that dude. He ate beef and didn't find out he ate it until after he ate it ( he washed his mouth and tried to throw up, it was hilarious ) and woke up crying that night BECAUSE he ate beef.

Anyway, I have to go, I need to study in order for me to not fail my exams. Bye!

Loads of Love,

Adhara!