"Dietfried," Selia starts, her right hand twitching off and on at her side, "this is my friend, Rosaline. She's here to attend Queen Iris' celebration with me as my guest. Please, let us inside."

Unable to speak due to shock, I find myself staring at Selia, horrified at Dietfried's awful attitude towards her.

"A...friend," Dietfried clicks his tongue, looking between the two of us again before sighing and stepping aside. "Whatever."

While I would marvel at the beautiful marble floor and the crystal chandelier hanging above us and the dark blue large rug with gold trim and rose patterns on the floor beneath the chandelier, I can only find myself feeling complete discomfort due to Dietfried's presence.

"Rosaline, this is my older brother, Dietfried," Selia says, her tone of voice sounding forced.

"Dietfried Wadsworth," he introduces himself, "not a pleasure. No offense, but if you have anything to do with my sister, I automatically detest you."

"Don't be so rude, Dietfried," Selia scoffs. "Whether you like me or not, she's a guest under our roof. How do you think our parents would like it if you made a negative image on our household to someone?"

"Dad won't be back for half a week, and you know Mom won't bother to stop me," Dietfried says cooly with a wave of a hand.

"What?" Selia frowns, her eyebrows furrowing. "Where's Dad?"

"What's it matter?" Dietfried shrugs and starts to walk off. "You hate each other anyways."

"Selia..." I trail off uncertainly, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder as she stands there watching after her brother's disappearing form.

"Come on," Selia says, turning to me and forcing a smile, "I'll show you to one of our guest rooms."

Slowly, I follow after Selia as she leads me towards a marble spiral staircase, which leads to a balcony. She leads me down the right hallway and opens the third brown wooden door on the right, revealing a room with wooden flooring, a red brick fireplace to the right, a large window with tan curtains across from the doorway, a bathroom to the left, a large white bed with a canopy and tan and white pillows to the right of the bathroom door, and a white wooden sliding closet door to the right of the bed. Directly beside the bed there's also nightstands on both sides and there's a TV mounted above the fireplace, and there's a white fur rug as well in between the bed and the fireplace.

"This is it," Selia says. "I hope you don't mind the neutral color scheme. Most of our guest rooms are neutrally themed. There's a shower in the bathroom with a built-in tub, and there's some bath bombs under the sink if you'd like to use them. You'll also find your towels there. Those are also white. If you need me, my room is down the left hall and the fourth room on the left, pretty close to the end of the hall."

"Selia—" I start, turning to her, wanting to talk about Dietfried if she'll let me.

"And if you need laundry done, just let me know and I'll send for the maid," Selia continues.

"Selia," I frown, "about what your brother said to you...are you alright?"

"My brother..." Selia trails off, her expression slipping into a frown as her hands begin to twitch again anxiously. "He's hated me ever since we were kids. Although, I think when we were kids he at least respected me, saw me as a friendly rival. Now, he just treats me like a doormat."

I watch after her sadly as she slowly moves to sit on the guest bed and crosses her arms against her chest, her gaze focused on the floor.

"Whenever it's the two of us, Dietfried brushes passed me as if I don't exist. He doesn't talk to me at all, not unless it's to criticize me for something. Even then, it's the only time he acknowledges me. As we grew older, Dietfried slowly stopped seeing me as a friendly rival to compete with and more of an obstacle in his way. He wanted to be our father's favorite. Because our father always seemed to favor me more instead, Dietfried began to hate me, but it became its worst two years ago," Selia continues. "My father wanted me to marry into another wealthy aristocratic family in Asterithe to their son, Chance. However, I wasn't interested in arranged marriage. I wanted to marry for love, not for status or politics."

"That's what Dietfried was talking about earlier then, right?" I ask softly.

"Yes," Selia nods. "My father couldn't understand why I didn't see things his way, he said that I should do it for the family image, that I was being selfish. I was so angry with him that I accidentally outed myself as having feelings for another woman when trying to explain why I couldn't marry Chance, and he hated me even more because of it. He called me damaged goods. Being bisexual isn't something he approved of, and while I would have liked his approval, I refused to seek it from someone who couldn't be happy for me being me."

"I'm so sorry, Selia," I feel myself wanting to tear up in both anger and sadness at her story.

"When Dietfried found out, he was just as livid with me, if not even more angry at me turning down Chance's proposal than my father was. My timid mother didn't know what to do with her family being broken into shambles and she turned to alcohol to cope. Now, she withers away every day in the house library with her books and her wine, hiding from the world. All she ever wanted was the best for all three of us, yet we couldn't even give her the best in return," Selia finishes.

"You know," I start with a small yet sad smile, "when I first met you, I thought you were made of ice and I found it strange that your magic was water with how frozen you seemed to the world, but now I see that you're made of glass, formed out of pressure and wishing you had the freedom and liquidity of water. You make your own life, Selia, no matter how hard it may be when you're forced to walk alone. You make your own life— never forget that. And if people can't accept that for you, they don't deserve to be in yours."

"Thank you..." Selia says quietly, her wide eyed expression shifting into a softer one as she starts to smile gently at me.

And as I find myself watching her, I decide that it's impossible for me to not smile back.