" now you must befriend him " there was always something final in pollux’s words, finality that didn’t leave any room for protestation ( but i don’t like him, but he isn’t even in slytherin ) and which inevitably always condemned her to silence and submission. pureblood bonds must be preserved -— there are so many traitors among their ranks already, one must hang to those who remained faithful and keep them in line.
" the black are practically royalty " and thus they had a DUTY to their subjects ( the blood was equal but everyone was their lesser, somehow ) to love them -— or perhaps not love, nothing so strong, but just enough affection for the friendship trick to work ; and to PROTECT them and their blood, the rare gift of their faultless ancestors.
perhaps the trouble with ralph was that those tricks never worked. through the student crowd she had sometimes smiled at him the same way she would her so-called friends ( but they were mere allies, chess PAWNS she could perhaps move in time, when needed ) and he had seen through the smile with a disturbing indifference before smiling back, and it had SCARED her, because she could not read what was inside that smile.
but pollux had said " the crawfords are our friends, and ralph is the same age as you " and the acquaintance had to be maintained, at school and over the holidays when pureblood parties were thrown and every important family was invited. she suspected he didn’t UNDERSTAND either why the relationship was somehow entertained -— and with the years it had become something akin to force of habit rather than the strict obligation it had been at first.
still, like nail biting, it was a nasty habit and one she wished she could get rid of ; but still, like nail biting, it was a habit she always fell back on, a cup of tea set between them and clothes bearing different colours to remind them they are divided -— but only by the slightest, insignificant matters.
" i don’t have to answer that " the cold and the haughtiness to protect and remind ( i am superior ) -— don’t they say you are no true queen if you have to repeat it ? it doesn’t matter with other people, DOMINANCE asserted with a name and a reputation lived upon ; but ralph is of another kind. she crosses her hands before her, glances lingering just above his head, or his forehead ( he’s TOO CLOSE, he can see the trick to avoid looking in the eyes )
" but then again, it doesn’t matter " she draws her lips in a thin line and reaches for her cup. it’s lukewarm now, and she is annoyed at once. " love plays no part in our kind of alliances. it relies entirely on DUTY and obedience " one corner of her lips shoots up, inviting a smile upon her face. " but I decided who i was to marry, so perhaps i do " still, like a bad habit, she played the game ( useless ) of acting mystery, of the heiress ingenue speaking in charades for anyone who might be interested.
there was no game to play with someone who didn’t eat in the palm of her hand like so many did. SNAKES should not be afraid of CROWS -— yet only a foolish one would forget its beak could aim for the guts and tear apart mercilessly.
how much is worth a crown when a crow can dine upon a queen ?
@columbiakiller | contd.
