I do not like wedding things.
Grown-ups always say weddings are beautiful, magical, important, and all sorts of other long boring words, but from what I have seen in the last month, weddings are mostly dresses, people poking my mother with pins, old ladies talking too much, and everyone acting like smiling is a job.
I know because it has been one whole month.
One whole month since Lara left.
I counted at first by sleeping, then by breakfasts, then by how many times I asked when she was coming back and nobody gave me a real answer.
Mommy says she is "away." Aunt Elysia says things are "complicated." Aunt Malvoria says if I repeat what she really thinks, I will get in trouble, so she gave me three cakes and told me to keep my mouth shut.
I am very good at keeping my mouth shut.
Sometimes.
Not all the time.
Today I am sitting at the lunch table, kicking my feet against the chair and eating potatoes with too much sauce because I am excited and angry and confused all at the same time, and when all those feelings come together, I get hungry.
Today I get to go to Aunt Malvoria's castle.
Today I get to see Lara.
I should only be happy.
But I am not only happy.
That is the problem.
Mommy is sitting across from me. She is wearing one of her soft dresses, the kind that makes her look like moonlight and sad music. She has looked like that a lot recently.
Pretty, but in a way that makes me think of rain coming. She smiles at me and brushes my hair and asks if I want honey on my bread, and I know she is trying. I know she is trying so hard.
But there is something wrong with her smiles lately. They stay on her mouth and do not reach her eyes.
Sometimes, when she thinks I am not looking, she just stares at the window like she forgot where she is.
I do not like that.
I poke my potatoes harder.
A few days ago, Mommy had to try on her wedding dress again, and I got to see it because I hid behind the screen and nobody noticed until I sneezed. Everyone told her she looked beautiful, but I thought they were lying.
It was white and shiny and had pearls and long sleeves and all the maids looked like they were going to cry because it was so expensive, but I did not think it was that beautiful.
It was not ugly. It was just... wrong.
If my mom is getting married, then she should look like the most beautiful person in the whole world, and if the dress does not do that, then it is not a good dress. That is just logic.
Also, she looked too sad in it.
A beautiful dress that makes my mom look sad is a stupid dress.
I told Kaelith that and she said maybe we should set it on fire. I said maybe. Then Aunt Elysia heard us and told us arson was not a proper solution to emotional distress, which means it probably is, but not in front of adults.
I stab another potato.
Mommy looks at me over her cup. "Aliyah, the potatoes are not your enemies."
"They are suspicious," I say.
That makes her smile a little for real.
I like real smiles better.
I put a piece of bread in my mouth and try not to think about what Grandma told me.
Grandma has been very strange lately. She has been nicer, which is how I know something is wrong.
She called me into her sitting room two days ago and gave me sugared almonds, which was already suspicious.
Then she told me very calmly that families change, and now I have a little brother at Aunt Malvoria's castle.
I said, "What?"
And she said yes, Lara's little boy.
I said, "Lara doesn't have a little boy."
And Grandma gave me that look adults do when they think they know everything, and she said yes, she does, and that is why Lara had to leave for a while. Because she has responsibilities there now.
Responsibilities.
I hate that word. It always means adults are about to do something mean and pretend it is noble.
I tried not to listen. I really did. But the words stayed in my head anyway.
Little brother.
Because of him, Lara left.
Because of him, I had to wait a month.
Because of him, Mommy looks sad in a wedding dress.
I hate that I think those things, because maybe it is not his fault. Maybe he is just little. Maybe he is nice.
But every time I try to be fair, I remember the empty chair next to me at breakfast and how Mommy sighs when she thinks I cannot hear.
So now I have a big knot in my tummy where all the thoughts live.
Mommy notices I am quiet and puts her cup down. "What are you thinking about?"
I shrug.
This is a trick. Adults ask that when they already know you are upset but want you to say it first.
"Aliyah."
I sigh loudly so she understands that I am suffering.
"What if Lara likes him more than me?"
The words come out before I can stop them.
Mommy goes very still.
Then she gets up from her chair and comes around the table and kneels next to mine. Her hands are warm when they hold my face.
"She won't," Mommy says softly.
"You don't know that."
Her eyes do the sad thing again, but she keeps her voice gentle. "I know Lara loves you."
I look down. "Grandma said he is my little brother."
Mommy's mouth changes. Not angry exactly. Sharper. "Grandma says many things she should keep to herself."
That makes me feel a little better.
"Aunt Malvoria is coming soon," Mommy says. "And you can see Lara and decide things for yourself, all right? Not because someone told you what to think."
I twist the edge of my napkin around my finger. "What if he is mean?"
Mommy brushes my hair back. "Then Kaelith will probably bite him."
I laugh a little.
That helps too.
Before I can ask another question, I hear fast footsteps and then the doors open without anyone announcing properly, which means only one person would do that.
Aunt Malvoria.
She sweeps inside in black and gold and danger, looking beautiful like always, and she grins at me with all her sharp teeth. "There's my favorite tiny menace. Ready?"
I jump up so fast my chair almost falls over.
"Yes!"
Then I stop.
Because now it is real.
Now I am really going.
Now I am really going to see Lara.
And maybe the little boy too.
My heart starts beating very fast, not in a bad way exactly, but in a way that makes my hands feel funny.
Aunt Malvoria notices everything because she is annoying like that. She crouches in front of me and taps my nose. "You can be brave and dramatic at the same time, you know."
"I know," I say with dignity. "I invented that."
She snorts. Mommy stands behind her, watching me with that soft-sad look again.
I run back and hug Mommy very hard around the waist.
She hugs me just as hard.
"Be good," she whispers.
"I'm always good."
Mommy leans back and raises one eyebrow.
"Mostly good," I correct.
Aunt Malvoria says, "That's the family standard."
Then she takes my hand, and I let her, even though I am not little.
My tummy still has the knot in it.
But I am going.
I am going to see Lara.
And maybe, I think as we walk out of the room, I will find out if little brothers are always problems.