Suddenly, amongst the mourning of her sisters, Eliza remembers.

"Grace does not yet know of this!" She all but yells in a manner unfit of her character. All eyes fell to Eliza as her mother frowned, disappointed in her daughter's lack of poise. Eliza, to her credit, looked sheepishly back at her family, embarrassed by her sudden outburst. 

"I only mean to say-"

"No, no. Go to her, she will need a friend. It is best the news comes from you." Mary may of been firm, but she was incapable of being cruel. Grace would be the one most distraught by this development. She always considered herself independent, the most masculine of the girls. If the woman had not her unearthreal feminine beauty, Mary might've mistaken her for a man! To be stripped of something so cruitual to her personality, her freedom, she would be wrecked. 

They all knew this, and in private, feared it. Grace wasn't a temperamental woman, nor was she overly dramatic, some may even consider her aloof. But what she lacked in regular emotional expression, she made up for in pure passion. When something finally drew her from her unapproachable shell, it was a waking nightmare. And, although this was only known to the closest of friends and family, she swore violently when agitated. It would be enough to scare away any man with good sense!

Unfortunately for them, in only a few hours two men (both who seemed to be in good mental condition) would be vying for the attentions of her and her sisters. Lucky them!

With all these things in mind, Eliza slowly climbed the steps to her beloved sister's room. She sighed gently, pushing open the old oak door, and stepped inside. The girls scarcely entered Grace's room, but every time they did, it was a different environment. Sometimes it was as neat as can be with fresh paint on the walls, other times it looked like a tornado had just ravished it.

Today it was the latter, the room was, in short, utter chaos. Books lined the floors and writing was scribbled all over the walls in a font too small, and too untidy to read. Noting the strange symbols, Eliza assumed it was some kind of advanced maths, it was easier to assume her sister was intelligent, than in a cult. In the far right corner of the room was a large bookcase, it was packed with books, but not without a few notable gaps in its library (it was probably once filled with all the literacy piled on the floor). 

And there, on the plush bed that sat itself in the center of the room, was Grace. She was sleeping soundly under a mountain of quilts and duvets, snoring softly in the morning light.

"Grace... Morning time..." Eliza whispered, it was best to wake Grace gently, lest Eliza be murdered accidentally at the hand of her sister. She watched as Grace's eyes gently flickered open, she seemed serene like this, it was unlike her. 

"Morning?" She mumbled, voice hoarse from sleep. Eliza laughed, forgetting her task momentarily, it was a nice moment. 

They shared the quiet, Grace waking up more. They didn't speak, just two sisters basking in the peacefulness of the morning. All the other girls were loud talk and bold assertions, Grace was calm and pensive. But she was also perceptive, she could taste Eliza's thoughts. She knew her sister was feeling uneasy.

"It is highly irregular for you to visit me at this time. Irregularities in you schedule usually  indicate that something is wrong. May I inquire as to what?" Grace was always this blunt, preferring directness over flowery feelings. 

When Eliza did not respond immediately, she tilted her head. It was done in such away that it seemed mechanical and somewhat inhuman, like a clumsy alien piloting a meat suit. Grace was not adept at social interaction, although she was clever, she often seemed a little odd.

The quirks of her sister made Eliza smile, but her task immediately forced the expression away. Grace took note of this worriedly.

"You see! It is expressions like that-"

"Grace."

Silence.

"Grace, I have had a talk with mother that may startle you."  Eliza tried, keeping her tone light and upbeat, although it still held a serious note. Her face was graver than her voice, and her hands trembled. Really, she shouldn't be fearing the reaction of her sister, but something about disappointing people put a black feeling in her stomach.

"Eliza, your inflections are not dissimilar to how you may address a child. May I remind you that I am not a juvenile, and am mildly offended that you consider me as such." Grace spoke with dignity and precision, conversing in the way her mother taught her. Even though she was inhuman in her speech, nothing she ever said was technically wrong.

"Sorry, my words are more for me than you." Grace nodded, deeming this an accurate explanation, but Eliza saw the question in her eyes. They often had this back and forth, words shared without speaking. They weren't the closest out of the sisters, but it was a near thing. Grace was difficult to talk to unless you could almost read her mind. 

"I mean, I'm using this tone to comfort myself." Eliza corrected, not meeting Grace's eyes. She could tell Grace was staring, the woman seemed to find this an even less suitable answer. 

"You misunderstood, all I-"

"Sister, you are prolonging the inevitable. You are... stalling." Grace tried out the word as if it were new on her tongue, shaking her head slowly like she were displeased at the taste. Eliza breathed in slowly, and came out with it.

"Mother has required that we be wed."

"Zooterkins!"