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The moment Ileana saw her new husband’s daughter, all of her fears were solidified. Maxim had told her that Lydia looked just like his late wife, and Rebecca was said to be a famous beauty, so of course Lydia had to be beautiful as well.
She was far too perfect with her long and wavy black hair, round chocolate eyes, and full red lips. She was practically Snow White incarnate. If she looked like that, then Rebecca must have been some kind of goddess.
Ileana, mousy and shy, knew she could never hope to compete. Rebecca would always be there. Her daughter would always be there. She wondered if Lydia would resent her for taking Rebecca’s place. Surely she would. Gaining a stepmother only a year after losing one’s mother, especially one only four or five years their senior, was bound to breed resentment.
The younger girl stepped forward at her father’s direction. Maxim introduced the two of them, his expression warm and gentle, though Ileana could sense that he was troubled somehow.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Lydia said to her, a slight smile on her face, her tone formal. Ileana knew at a glance that it didn’t look real. The girl stuck out her hand, and she shook it carefully.
“Pleased to meet you as well,” Ileana replied. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. By now all the servants had departed to go back to their work. She was glad they were gone, it meant less eyes were on her.
Lydia dropped her hand to her side. “I hope you enjoy your time here,” she broke the silence with a tense display of pleasantry.
It almost sounded like she was insinuating her stay wouldn’t be permanent. Ileana frowned at the thought. “I don’t believe I’ll be going anywhere,” she replied defensively.
“Oh, I didn’t mean…” Lydia attempted to explain herself. “Forgive me.”
Ileana felt a sudden pang of remorse. If nothing else, the girl seemed genuinely surprised by the way her words had been taken. She knew exactly what it meant to have one’s meaning misunderstood, the embarrassment that was often felt. It had happened to her plenty of times. “It’s alright,” she told her, “I shouldn’t have taken it so literally.”
Lydia nodded, straightening her posture a little. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”
Ileana felt a little stupid for not realizing that question was coming. Maxim probably hadn’t told his daughter about her age so as not to make her uncomfortable. Then again, she might be uncomfortable finding out the answer now. “I’m twenty one,” she said.
Lydia’s mouth formed a perfectly round o. “Twenty one,” she repeated, “I didn’t think you would be so young.”
“I get that a lot,” Ileana chuckled nervously. “I’m probably not what you had in mind for a stepmother, am I?” She attempted to make a joke.
“No,” Lydia replied bluntly, “but I wasn’t particularly hoping for one anyway. I don’t expect anything like that from you, especially now that I know your age.”
Ileana chuckled again, this time a little more at ease. “I had a feeling you would say that,” she said, genuinely this time. Hopefully Lydia had just been stating a fact rather than expressing distaste for her.
Yes, she had prepared for the possibility of that outcome, but she hadn’t figured out what she would do should it actually happen.
“I do hope that we’ll get along regardless.”
“Yes,” Lydia hummed, “I hope so too.”
She walked away with long, careful strides, her jet black hair flowing behind her. So perfect. Far too perfect, but just a little vulnerable.
A living Snow White.
Rebecca’s spitting image.
Ileana could not hope to compete, but she couldn’t hold it against her.