Cornflower Blue

Propped up against a mound of pillows, her pale blonde hair fanned out beneath her, Estre traced the words of a letter with her finger. The last beams of sunlight were filtered into the seemingly sterile room, the only bit of color seeming to come from a chipped vase of wildflowers propped against the window pane. Splotches of orange, blue, and pink hues from the various flowers were reflected in the glass.

"What's it say?"

Blinking as if suddenly remembering where she was, the young woman looked to her friend who was seated upon a threadbare carpet below her bed.

Nipping at her bottom lip, Estre motioned for her friend to close the door to her bedroom. Peeling back the cornflower blue quilt, faded with age, she slipped from her bed and down onto the floor with her. Adjusting the plain, cotton nightgown, she held the letter to her chest. "I really shouldn't tell you, this is what they call an affair of the heart."

"Estre."

"Vivynna."

Both girls squinted at each other before erupting in a fit of laughter.

"Vi, honestly, I have no desire to embarrass your brother. He's very sweet! Plus," she held her chin high, a smug smile tugging at her lips. "These are womanly topics, you wouldn't understand."

The redhead snorted, giving Estre a little shove. "Don't give me that, you haven't even been kissed." Raising her finger, Vivynna was quick to cut her off, "and that namby-pamby kiss on the cheek to your dance partner at the festival EIGHT years ago doesn't count."

Huffing, she pushed a loose strand of her hair aside, mumbling something about Vi being the namby-pamby one.

Taking the opportunity while she was distracted, the sprightly redhead snatched the letter from Estre. "H-Hey!" Scrambling to stand, Vi began to read the letter aloud, a grin gradually beginning to grow on her freckled face. "My Dearest Estre," she paused to roll her eyes. "Look at that, three words in and I'm already rolling my eyes. You know our mother still has to remind him to wash behind his ears."

Pushing herself up to her feet, knees buckling briefly, the sickly young woman snatched the letter back. "You stop that! I think he's ... Fine. Ish." Motioning to the handwritten note, "this was very sweet at least! Even if he has dirty ears," she wrinkled her freckled nose a little at the fact. "Listen to this, he says I have eyes like starlight," sinking back onto the floor with a longing sigh. "Isn't that just the most romantic thing you've ever heard in all your life?"

"Sounds like a cartload of crap to me."

Estre stuck her tongue out at her dearest friend, "you're just jealous."

Vivynna sat back down, picking a piece of grass off of her hand-me-down work dress. "Oh yea, I'm real jealous. Don't put all your eggs in one basket with him. You'll have plenty of gentleman callers in Skywatch." Estre laughed, "of course, of course. How could I forget? When we enter the room people will whisper and stare in awe." Seeming thoughtful, "... I don't see why you want to change your name though. Mortha suits you just fine." The redhead frowned, "Mortha isn't a dancer's name, it's the name of a baker's wife, someone with sticky-fingered, snotty-nosed children clinging to their skirts. Vivynna, now that's a name that will get you places."

"What about Estre?"

A warm smile tugging at her lips, Vi reached for her hand.

"Estre is just fine, it's sweet, short, and to the point. Just like you."

Threading her fingers through that of her friend's, Estre gave her hand a small squeeze. "I'll sing, you'll dance, and we'll have all of Skywatch in the palm of our hands."

"They won't even know what to do with us."