Gil

“Does it make her that jealous to see her own sister happy?” I mutter to myself as I watch those two walk away after Yelena’s barbed remark. I didn’t intend for Evie to hear my comment, but this little fairy’s ears are sharper than most.

“Yelena jealous? Of me?” she laughs in disbelief. “She has everything, what on earth does she have to be jealous of?”

I look at Evie thoughtfully. She doesn’t see it. Yelena’s got her so quashed beneath her thumb, so accustomed to being mistreated and looked down on, she really doesn’t see it. Just how absolutely, violently jealous her younger sister is of her.

Everyone calls Yelena a beauty, but while it’s true Evie’s looks are less conventional, and she doesn’t help matters with all of the awkward, funny expressions she pulls, she is the more striking sister by far. Her sylvan features, her gorgeous dark red hair, I’ve never seen anyone in all my life more beautiful than her. Even Alex has commented on it, and in Yelena’s presence no less, which I’m sure has sparked all sorts of trouble for Evie back home.

Evie is shaking her head, still in disbelief at my comment. I smile at her mischievously. “I don’t know. Maybe she’s jealous of your funny face.”

“You’re always teasing me about my face,” she sulks. “But you’re as ugly as I am.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I answer with a grin.

Looking out at the dancers, I watch Yelena flounce around the room wearing Alex on her arm like a new bag she wants to show off. That girl, from the very beginning everything about her rubbed me the wrong way. I don’t like how fast my friend’s fallen for her and I’ve told him so, but for now he’s so deeply under her spell there’s nothing I can say that will convince him to drop her. All I can do is hope that her true colors come out before he does something truly regrettable, like propose marriage.

“Do you dance, Gil?”

Evie’s question catches me off guard. “I never learned how to dance, being low born. Not with a silver spoon in my mouth like you.”

She scoffs. “What silver spoon? Here, I’ll teach you. It’s easy.”

“Right now?”

“Why not?” she says, and I find her smile, like her impulsivity, infectious. Ah, she’s a hard one to keep up with. But I like to think I’m up to the challenge.

We come in on a slow song. Evie shows me where to place my hands and I confess I’m a bit stupid to have her suddenly in my arms right in front of me. But she acts very natural and urges me to focus on the music as she guides my steps.

I’m a natural athlete and Evie’s a good teacher. The motions come very easily, and in no time at all I’m dancing with her as though I’ve been doing it all my life. It’s nice, I think as we glide slowly across the dance floor. But a bit…

“Boring, isn’t it?” Evie says. “These slow songs are the worst. I wish they’d play a reel.”

As though hearing her request, the song changes abruptly, and a lively tune is piped out on a whistle. The fiddle joins in, followed by the mandolin and drums, and a great upright bass provides the beat.

Evie looks up at me, her eyes sparkling with excitement, and once again I’m swept up in her pace as we go spinning across the floor.

Now this is more like it, I think as the reel spins faster and faster. I laugh aloud as we dance together, making up our own steps, doing whatever we please. Around us couples step off of the dance floor so that we are the only two left, but she and I are in our own little world, oblivious to their energetic clapping and cheers.

It might be the most fun I’ve ever had in my life.

The song ends and the room erupts with excitement. Everyone rushes over to compliment our dancing, but Evie and I are too breathless to answer. We can only nod our thanks, laughing and waving as together we make our way off of the dance floor.

“That was fun,” she gasps, falling into a nearby chair. She’s smiling so brightly that it messes with my head a bit.  

“You need a drink after that,” I decide abruptly, and make for the punch bowl.

What’s this I’m feeling tonight? I ask myself as I take two glasses from the server. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It can only be because of Evie, but someone tell me, what does it mean? Could it be I’ve fallen for that girl?

I’ve heard of other men falling in love, but I never thought it would happen to me. I’ve always been too careful, too cautious to let myself get close to anyone but Alex. And yet, something about Evie stripped my guard from the very first minute, so that I found myself drawn to her instinctually. These days, she’s all I can think about. Whether I train or take long hikes through the woods, her face keeps coming back to my mind. Her funny smile, and those impossibly deep dimples.

“…can’t believe you would act so disgracefully in front of a whole room full of Mr. Livingston’s guests. Why, you had your skirt pulled past your knees!”

What’s this now? I’m returning to Evie to find Mrs. Stuart, her stepmother, berating her shamelessly in public while Evie stands humiliated, her hands clasped in front of her and her head down. Every time Mrs. Stuart gestures, Evie flinches, as though she expects a blow to come at any moment.

“Did you think of your sister, you selfish girl? I could care less if you destroy your own reputation by cavorting with such a low class man, but if your foolishness hurts Yelena’s prospects—”

 Evie sees me then, standing like an ass, not quite sure how I’m meant to intervene, and she winces and turns her head in shame. All of the sudden she’s going, striding through the room and leaving her stepmother staring after her with a furious expression. I make no effort to avoid knocking her shoulder and sloshing punch on her dress in my haste to grab Evie’s package before I hurry after her, deaf to her stepmother’s cries of indignation. 

Outside the air is cool. I spy Evie’s figure storming out the front gate, furiously scrubbing her eyes with her arm. I run to catch up. She hears my footsteps and she starts to walk faster, then to run, and I feel something in my gut sink when I think this fleet little fairy might get away from me.

“Evie!” I call to her, and she stops in her tracks. I reach her side and she’s staring up at me as though in disbelief.

“What did you just call me?”

 “Ah,” I scratch the back of my neck awkwardly. “Evie. It’s been my name for you for a while now. I thought it suited you better than Evangeline. Is it too casual? Are you offended?”

She shakes her head. “I like it. It’s just… no one’s called me that since…”

She bites her lip suddenly. When next she speaks, her voice has a slight warble in it. “Please allow me to apologize for my stepmother’s rude words earlier. She says such things so carelessly, please don’t take it to heart.”

“You think I care what that old hag thinks of me? If anything, I… I’m just worried about you.”

“It’s doesn’t bother me. I’m used to it.”

Her words cause me acute physical pain. To think she’s endured such abuse all this time…

“If you’re really alright, come back inside. It’s cold out here. We can find a quiet table, you and I and… talk a little.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m leaving early, Gil. I hope you’ll forgive me. A place like that, someone like me doesn’t belong there.”

“Is that what you really think? Or are you just letting that witch’s words get to you? Because I thought you were brilliant back there.”

She smiles so sweetly that once again I’m mesmerized by her. “Thank you. But yes, that’s what I really think. I’m going now… going home.”

“Not waiting for the carriage?”

“I’d rather walk.”

“Alright then,” I say, and I offer my arm.

She looks down at it with suspicion. “What are you doing?”

“It’s dark. I’ll walk you home.”