Leena Likitalo - The Five Daughters of the Moon

“Merile!” I stared at her with my eyes about to burst out from the sockets. I swear, dear Notes, sometimes she acts as though her rats were more important to her than her little sister. Can you believe that!

Merile shrugged as if nothing whatsoever under the Moon could affect her as long as she had her rats. But Alina’s eyes shone, and not with tears. She wavered a step toward Merile. The brown rat bounced to greet her. She giggled. “Can I help you tuck them into their beds?”

Merile placed the gray rat down and strolled—that is, attempted to stroll despite her limp—to Alina. Though five years older, she’s only a head taller than her. Perhaps that’s the reason why Alina doesn’t find Merile that intimidating—even when Merile acts like she did tonight. “Perhaps. Let me think about it.”

“Thank you!” Alina swooped the brown rat up, and it proceeded to lick her face with gusto. Its thin-skinned ears flopped as though she tasted particularly fine. “Oh, you’re so silly, Rafa!”

“Isn’t she a silly dog? Oh, yes she is! My precious, silly little friend.”

And in an eyeblink, Merile and Alina were both completely immersed in scratching and praising the rats. Elise rolled her eyes at me.

I mouthed back at her, “I know.”

It took a precious amount of petting and cooing before Merile and Alina were done with the rats. When Merile finally picked the brown rat from Alina and seemed satisfied enough to actually leave, we got yet another visitor.

“Good evening, Daughters of the Moon.” And at that moment, when we heard the serene voice, every single one of us halted what we were doing and turned as one to meet our honored eldest sister.

Celestia glided in, every step immensely graceful and equal in length. Dressed in a white gown embroidered with dove pearls, with a mink sash wrapped around her shoulders, she was as regal as ever. Her skin was so fair, almost translucent, her hair so pale, as if spun from silver. A platinum diadem with dove pearls rested on her steep forehead. Her narrow nose divided her face into two symmetrical halves. Her ocean blue eyes… They bore a dreamy glow.

I could but stare at her, for she is everything that I’m not. When she steps into a room, everyone will turn to look at her, hearken their ears to hear her precious words, bask in her glorious presence. For she is the empress-to-be, the very promise of prosperity and peace. But tonight, as I admired her, I wondered, had she always radiated such warmth, or was Elise right in her speculations? Dear Notes, I certainly wish she is!

“What is this about?” Celestia tilted her head slightly as though finding her little sisters up well past their bedtime intrigued rather than annoyed her.

I hurried to reclaim the peacock from the tile stove’s sill. I’m not sure why I did so, but it seemed important to show rather than tell, to bring the mechanical creature to life, for that was what it had been created for.

But it was Elise who spoke. “Poor little Alina is afraid of the thing.”

Merile, her arm wrapped around Alina either for support or for comfort, looked like she might say something. But Celestia lifted a forefinger to her red, red lips. She glided to me—or to the peacock—like a down feather drifts in a winter breeze.

“I will take it then,” she said, cupping her palms. She wore long kid gloves. Her arms were svelte, her fingers slim and nimble.

For some reason I still can’t figure out, I hesitated to let go of Alina’s name day gift. It didn’t feel right to part with it, though it wasn’t mine to begin with.

“Would you be so kind?” Alina asked, as though Celestia was doing her a favor. Merile’s rats gazed up at her, too. Though animals don’t like automatons in general either, they seemed perplexed by my little sister’s eagerness to rid herself of something that was both beautiful and unique.

Celestia smiled in a hazy, almost distant way. Yes, there was something truly different in that smile compared to the ones with which she’d favored us earlier. Was it one of a woman who’d fallen in love, who’d kissed a man she found to her liking? Perhaps I’d find this out soon myself. She said, “You will never have to see it again.”

Alina squealed with joy, and I had no choice but to hand the peacock over to Celestia. Without further words or ceremony, she slipped it into her evening bag. “Merile, would you see Alina to her room?”

And so it was that Merile led Alina out of the room, and along with them went the rats, bouncing to avoid contact with the cold floor tiles. We all, Celestia included, gazed after them. For a moment I thought she might shake her head, but that she didn’t do. Instead she turned to Elise and said, “Are you ready to go? The carriage is waiting for us.”

This was my cue to exit, and that I did, though Celestia hadn’t really said anything to me. It was as if I didn’t really exist, as if my presence didn’t matter to her. I must admit that this was a most peculiar feeling, something I must have no doubt only imagined.

Dear Notes, this is everything of relevance that came to pass today. Some things mightn’t make much sense, but I can’t be bothered to think of them now. For I have many reasons to be happy. Happy, happy, happy! I think I’ll stop writing now and start dreaming of K.

For one day soon there will be kisses and caresses.

As I undress in the dim-lit room, a thought crosses my mind. I never asked to be born a Daughter of the Moon, to be placed on a pedestal, to be admired as pristine and white. But that’s a lame excuse. The poor never asked to be hungry and cold either.

Ever since I met my love, I knew I had to change. I knew it to be true like a toddler who knows that her first wavering steps are just the beginning, like a child who realizes that letters form words that unfold into countless stories, like a sailor who upon stepping on a foreign shore realizes that even if he were to ever return home, it wouldn’t be the same place he left behind.

“Shawl,” Lily, my governess, hums as she holds her right arm out for me. Hers is a voice that comforts me, the buzzing of bees collecting honey.

I swirl and unwrap the fur-trimmed cashmere from around my shoulders. And although the fair hair on my arms jumps up instantly, I fold it on her arms. It’s chilly in this room that isn’t mine, but which I have started to think of as belonging to me. Hidden somewhere under the vast garden, reachable only by servants’ corridors—no one will see me enter or leave. There’s no stove here, no fireplace, only a few candles of the rougher sort on the rickety table accompanied by two equally forgotten chairs. The air smells of tallow and burning hair.

“Gloves.” Lily’s tune veers toward the melancholy paths that I have grown so accustomed to. Perhaps it was as much my darker moods as it was her family’s tragedy that shaped her such as she is. A woman twice my age. Wiry, but kind. Though she has been told to keep her gaze down her whole life, her angular chin always points up. Her gaze is sharp, and she sees everything. Sometimes this frightens me a little.

I pull off my white satin gloves, first the left one, then the right. I never complained of how unhappy I felt, but it could hardly have escaped my governess. For the longest time, I tried to bury my darker feelings and feign that I only knew joy. For everyone wanted to see and know the sparkling, giggling Elise. And so I practiced before my mirrors how to hide my anxiety until no one, not even dear Sibs, could see through the mask I had so carefully crafted.

“The dress.”

Lily and I go through this ritual every night, but lately it has meant more to me. One garment, now one button at a time, I cease to be an obsolete leftover from an age that’s about to come to an end. It’s all because of him, the captain of my heart.