Importance

‘Today, I am twelve. Twelve is supposed to be a very important age. Da says it's when girls start becoming women. And rich das look at girls around that age when they're looking for wives for their sons, he says. Da says a lot of stuff like that. He doesn't say it to me, though. He does, but he doesn't really. He says it when I just happen to be there, ‘cause I'm always there. So I always hear when he tells Aspasia. Milos says Aspasia is going to be Da's way into Big Money. Milos says Aspasia is already a Great Beauty. Milos says Da's planning on marrying Aspasia to the Duke's eldest son. Milos says a lot too, if Da isn't around. If Da is around, Milos never says anything. If Da is around and Milos does say something, he gets a slap ‘cause Da is Da and Milos is Milos. I don't see how Aspasia's going to be Da's way into big money. If Aspasia does marry the Duke's son, then she'll get the Duke's fortune, not Da. I don't think Da is thinking properly about all this. I think Milos is wrong too. Aspasia isn't any Great Beauty. The Queen's a Great Beauty and Aspasia doesn't look like the Queen at all. Aspasia looks just like she did before she was twelve. And before she was eleven. And before she was ten. Only now she's taller and she's got fatty lumps on her chest. And she's beginning to look like an hourglass, a little bit. I don't see why having a twisty shape to your body makes you a Great Beauty. I think it looks kind of stupid, to look like something people use to tell time. And she throws up now, every morning before breakfast and every night before we go to bed. She sticks her finger down her throat and makes herself puke up in the ocean. It's really yuck, especially the noises she makes. I don't think anyone would want to kiss someone or marry someone whose mouth tastes like yucky puke. Maybe only someone else who makes themselves sick in the ocean, so their mouth normally tastes like that, and then they'd never know that there was anything wrong with Aspasia's mouth tasting like puke all th - '

* * *

"Astrea! Zamta! Don't you have anything better to do than sit around writing in that stupid little book all morning?"

"Aspasia! Don't you have anything better to do than stand around annoying everyone else in the house?" Astrea mimicked, silently rolling her eyes and shutting her journal with a snap, letting the quill she'd been using to write fall to the floor. She set the small book down on the desk with a fierce thump and barely managed to catch the ink bottle as it quivered and wobbled near the edge.

"Papa and Mama are supposed to be taking us into the capital right now! And you're sitting here writing like it isn't important at all!"

"It isn't." Astrea yawned and turned around, raising her eyebrows insolently at her sister, who stood in the doorway looking thoroughly livid, her black curls framing a dark, angry face and furious green eyes.

"It is so!" Aspasia stomped her foot. "Some of us will be happy to finally get to stop wearing Milos' castoffs."

"You never wore Milos' things." Astrea swung a bare foot lazily, looking bored.

"But - but - but - " A huge, over dramatic tear welled up in the corner of one of Aspasia's eyes and rolled gently down her cheek. "With Mama being pregnant again we'll have even less money soon and that means - "

"No new clothes for you. Sob sob, I dress like a harem girl, sob sob, buy me something shiny Papa." Astrea pushed herself to her feet and shoved past her sister, still standing in the doorway, jaw hanging near her knees.

* * *

"You know, Helen, I'd been hoping that with twin girls we'd be able to snare two noblemen. But no. You had to give birth to one who's completely useless! We're going to only have one of them pay off and the other's just going to be a drain on funds!"

"I'm sure we'll get Aspasia married off to someone nice when she's old enough. Maybe if he's high up enough he'll have a friend, or an old uncle or something who'd take Astrea."

"We'll still end up needing a dowry for the useless little beast!"

"Maybe Aspasia's husband can cover it for us."

"Maybe . . . Yes, yes, almost certainly. I'll start looking into it right now."

"They're only five, Gil!"

"Doesn't matter. The sooner I can set something up the better."

"I suppose . . ."

"What?"

"I think I may be pregnant, Gil."

"Again?! Godsdammit!!!"

* * *

"Oh yes, yes, your little girl will look simply adorable in this. How old are you, dear?" An old woman with a weathered face held up a dress of thin, pale green fabric to Aspasia's chest.

"I'm twelve!" Aspasia wriggled smugly and tossed her curls back over her shoulder, shooting a slightly mocking look at her sister from beneath long lashes.

"Well no wonder you're getting new clothes." The seamstress nodded contentedly and set the green dress on top of an already enormous pile. She examined Aspasia for a moment before selecting a top of flimsy white material and a silvery-grey skirt. "You'll be needing lots of pretty new things now that you're a real grown up lady."

Astrea rolled her eyes and waited impatiently in the corner, tapping her foot slightly.

"And it's very good of your little brother coming with you to help you carry all your new clothes home. He's going to have to get used to keeping an eye out for his big sister, right?" The woman bustled about and threw the shirt and skirt onto the mountain of clothing.

On either side of Aspasia, the parents blanched slightly and looked over their shoulders at Astrea. Aspasia gave a little laugh that sounded a bit like wind chimes in a storm. "That's not my brother! That's my sister! She's here for clothes too! She's twelve."

"Oh. My." The seamstress' eyes widened slightly and she stared at Astrea, who stared back with narrowed eyes. The seamstress cleared her throat and turned back to Aspasia quickly. "What do you think of this skirt, dear?"

Astrea groaned softly and put her head in her hands.

* * * "I'm going to marry a prince!"

"No, you aren't."

"Or maybe a duke."

"No, you aren't."

"I suppose the king's already married . . . But I could marry the prince who's going to be king!"

"Are you even listening to me?"

"I heard Da and Ma talking about it."

"That's eavesdropping. It's rude."

"I'm going to have to provide for the family when I'm married, since Da says Milos isn't going to amount to anything."

"You can't even get married until you're sixteen."

"I think Da might disown Milos. He's ashamed of him, or something." "Is your brain even connected to your mouth? Or your ears?"

"Don't worry! I won't forget about my dearest twin when I'm a rich noblewoman. I'm sure I'll find something for you to do! I wouldn't feel right, abandoning you to your fate! That would be mean!"

"Just shut up, please."

* * *

"Don't look so sulky, Astrea. Papa bought you new clothing too." Aspasia bounced lightly on her bed, already wearing a new dress of watered silk.

"I could really not care any less, Aspasia. I don't mind wearing Milos' old things. I didn't need new clothing." She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, legs swinging languidly, listening to the screams of the younger children on the floor below.

Aspasia plopped her hands on her knees and stared at Astrea with an exasperated expression on her pretty face. "Astrea, you're only going to make it harder for yourself if you keep parading around in a boy's grubby old clothes. Imagine what people will say if you come back from fishing break still wearing the same clothes you were before the break. Everyone will talk so, especially since you're twelve."

"I don't what they say. I don't care if they say I'm a bastard triton changeling."

"Astrea! Such language!"

"Whatever, Aspasia. You better hurry and go vomit into the ocean before Ma tells us to go to bed."

Aspasia stared at her sister in shock, jumping up from her bed. "Astrea! How could you say such a thing!?"

"By the sheer luck of having a voice box, a tongue, a pallet, and lips. Get out, Aspasia, or I'm going to tell Ma why you're always out on the beach before bed."

"You wouldn't dare!"

Astrea shrugged dismissively and rolled over on her bed to stare at the wall.

"Such awful things! And I was only trying to help you! See if I ever try to do something nice for you again!" Aspasia stomped a small, perfect foot, and sulked out of the bedroom.

* * *

‘ - e time. I know I wouldn't want to marry her. I wouldn't want to marry anyone who went around tasting like puke. Of course, Aspasia would say no one would want to marry me either. Which isn't a surprise at all, really. Maybe one of Milos' friends would marry me, but I doubt it. Da is, I think, probably very stupid if he thinks I have to get married to be of any use to him. I don't ever want to get married. It's not that boys are stupid or gross or anything, which is what Aspasia would say when we were little, even though she'd cling to their arms and giggle and always be teasing them. I just don't want to have to spend all my time making one happy. They aren't the most important people in the world, after all. The Gods are the most important people, Milos says, and we should be trying to make them happy, not other people. I think that's why Da's been wanting to disown Milos and send him away, ‘cause he says stuff like that. I bet if Da could he'd try to get Aspasia to marry a God, if they're really the most important people in the world like Milos says. I bet Gods have lots of money. Da says that's what makes people important. I might like to have some money. I don't know if I want to be really really important and have lots of money though. I think I might like to be just important enough to be able to go to the university in the capital and learn more stuff than they teach at school. Don't know what, but it would be nice to go somewhere where people are more intelligent than Da and Aspasia.

‘Aspasia's come in for bed. She smells like puke.'