Daphne laughed at the contrast between her friends' wishes. "I suppose we're all looking for something different," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But I must admit, there was something quite thrilling about the whole thing."
"Your penchant for thrill-seeking is not new to us," Violet admitted, "I, for one, am quite curious to know how this little story of yours folds out..."
Before they could continue, the door to Daphne's room swung open, and her sisters—Joyce, Annie, and Felicity—bustled in.
"There you are," Annie grinned, "Why have you been shut away in your room all morning, young girl?"
Daphne exchanged a knowing look with her friends, but then straightened her back. She wascloseto her sisters, but not enough to indulge them about matters of the heart.
"Oh, nothing. The girls and I were just doing some catching up..."
"The ball tonight, Daphne!" Joyce exclaimed, her eyes gleaming. "Your catching up can surely wait. We have to start getting ready."
Violet and Isadora exchanged glances, knowing their time was up. "We'll leave you to it," Isadora said with a smirk, standing and smoothing out her skirt. "We have our own preparations to make. But you simply must tell us more later!"
"I shall see you later then," Daphne said, before her sisters fully came to dominate the scene.
"Oh, Daph. It is so important that you look your best tonight," Felicity drawled.
They had hauled their youngest sister over in front of the large vanity mirror that rested on the other corner of the room. They each took a role—Annie choosing a gown from the wardrobe, Felicity setting to work on Daphne's hair, and Joyce inspecting every detail.
It was always like this with them. They left no stone unturned when it came to doting on their youngest sister. Daphnesuspected that it was to make up for the loss of their parents, since out of all her sisters, she had spent the least time with them.
"Of course she will look her best," Annie returned with two gowns. She held each one up carefully against her, "What do you think? The beige or the lilac?"
"Lilac," both the other sisters answered in unison.
"Lilac it is," Annie grinned. “It suits her complexion quite well.”
“Only the finest for our Daphne,” Felicity smiled, combing through Daphne’s hair. “Her hair has grown quite long.”
Joyce nodded, “Yes, I think this length suits her.”
“She has always had the most beautiful hair out of all of us,” Annie added. “Do you remember when we used to make flower crowns for her?”
“How could I forget?” Joyce laughed. “And she would look adorable wearing them, prancing around the garden like a little fairy.”
“Shall we make one for her now?” Annie suggested, excitedly.
Daphne opened her mouth to intervene. “Perhaps I am a bit too old to be sporting flower crowns…”
“You can live up to be a hundred years old, but you shall always be our little Daphne,” Felicity pinched her cheeks lovingly.
“And if we don’t fuss over you,” Annie added, “Who will?”
“But I am not a child anymore,” she said.
“Not a child,” Felicity smiled warmly. “But you are our little sister.”
“And it is our sworn duty to spoil you as much as we can,” Annie laughed.
Daphne sighed in feigned exasperation, though a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She knew better than to argue with them, accepting that they knew better than her.
After all, they were everything that she was not. Her sisters were always perfect—effortlessly so. She, on the other hand, felt like the odd one out. But instead of letting her insecurities show, she masked them with a hint of rebellion.
A quick smirk here, a casual remark there—it was easier to play the role of the carefree sister than to confess that, deep down, she sometimes wondered if she could ever live up to their standard.
For tonight, however, she was content playing their little doll, doing as they told.
