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"What do you think your first kiss will be like?"
Emilie was laying on her back on Amelie's bed, throwing a snow globe their grandmother had gifted her for Christmas a few months previous; the snow inside tumbled over itself like it were a blizzard and sunlight gleamed through the window on the glass dome, making it sparkle and shine. It was easy to imagine the little figurines of people inside growing dizzy from the movement, puppeteered by Emilie's far-too-confident hand. It was a truly beautiful sight, though it only filled Amelie with an anxious nausea as she waited for Emilie to miss her catch even just once, allowing for the globe to shatter against the hard floor, perhaps hurting them both in the process. Even so, Amelie didn't try to stop her; she'd long grown weary of the attempt, and hoped her efforts at the silent treatment would still Emilie's hand, though she'd as yet had no such luck.
Amelie, sitting on the ground in the corner, legs crossed and back facing her sister, lowered her book and frowned over her shoulder. "What?" she asked, surprised. Her brow quirked and her lips twisted in a thoughtful pout as she pondered the question.
Emilie caught the globe again,pretending her fingers hadn't just slipped against the glass and her grip almost failed. "Your first kiss!" she repeated brightly, smiling as she watched the globe fall over itself in the air. Because of the lisp caused by her missing a tooth, it sounded like she said kith instead of kiss. "What will it be like?"
Amelie hummed. At eight-and-a-half years old, she hadn't thought about it too greatly. She was old enough, at least, to know that her parents had probably already planned it. Unlike her sister, she didn't like getting lost in fantasies; all it did was disappoint her when they didn't come true.
"I don't know," Amelie replied nonchalantly. "I haven't thought about it." She attempted to read her book again, but Emilie interrupted her (like usual).
"I have," Emilie lightly said. She waited for Amelie to ask for details, and when Amelie didn't, Emilie continued anyway. "Mum and Dad want us to marry princes and become princesses, but there's no princes our age."
"Okay," Amelie said blankly, barely paying attention. It was just like her sister to think about such silly things; that was why she had to take extra etiquette lessons. Amelie was only forced to take them alongside her because their parents couldn't tell the two girls apart.
"But d'you remember that boy we saw outside during the parade?" Emilie continued on, her voice taking on a dreamy quality as she slid down Amelie's pillows slightly.
"No," Amelie replied immediately. How could she? The parade Emilie and Amelie had been in the procession of had drawn thousands, maybe more. Amelie could barely even recall which of their horses had drawn the carriage, much less one boy Emilie had seen in the crowd as their family waved and smiled out the window.
"He was so handsome," Emilie sighed, lovestruck. She paused tossing the globe to instead hug it to her chest, eyes squeezed tightly shut. "He had brown hair and green eyes... I think."
"Okay," Amelie said again monotonously, trying not to listen. The words in her book were hard to concentrate on, despite her best attempts, and she could only blame it on her sister.
"I want my first kiss to be with him," Emilie declared brightly. She began tossing the globe again, biting her lip as she did so. "I want to go to a ball wearing the prettiest dress I own and I want him to help me from the car and then dance with me all night and then kiss me. It will be so magical!"
Amelie frowned and lowered her book again. Looking over her shoulder at her sister, she said, "Mother and Father would never allow it. And why would he be at the ball? He was a commoner."
"And then he will whisk me away and mum and dad will never tell me what to do again," Emilie, ignoring Amelie, finally finished She smiled to herself, looking as though it were Christmas and she had a pile of gifts to open and enjoy. "And I'll live happily ever after. The end!"
Amelie was growing tired of the silliness. "Father won't let you," she repeated sternly, her voice slightly louder in an effort to break through Emilie's fantasy and return her to reality.
Emilie's smile fell into a frown, her eyes dulling slightly. She didn't reply. In the ensuing silence, only broken by the smack of the globe against Emilie's hands, Amelie returned to her book.
"Everybody always says your first kiss is important," Emilie said unprompted a few minutes later. She was now tossing and catching the globe one-handed, which was an impressive, if not nerve-wracking, feat.
"Not as important as getting married," Amelie quipped smartly. "I heard Mother and Father say they couldn't wait to marry us off." It came on the heels of the girls getting in trouble for Emilie's shenanigans and Amelie's going along with it. It was, unfortunately, one of the nicest things her parents had said during their entire conversation.
Emilie sneered unhappily, one arm behind her head as she played. "I heard one of the maids say her first kiss was bad," she admitted. That was no surprise - she often spied on the servants, listening to their gossip when she was supposed to be studying. "What d'you think that means?"
That was a more interesting question, one which finally had Amelie fully put her book down and turn to face her sister, swiveling on the carpeted floor until she was facing forward and her skirt, trapped under her, was still stuck backwards, giving her torso the distinct look that it was twisted like a piece of licorice.
She envisioned kissing in her mind - not the type of kisses she saw other nobility do, those close-mouthed kisses that looked kind of like they ate a lemon and were very unhappy about it, but rather the type she sometimes read about in her books, when the two main characters were so butterflies-in-tummy in love with each other that they just couldn't help themselves. They were always deeply, maddeningly head-over-heels for each other in a way that she could never quite understand, though sometimes she pretended she one day might. If that was what she thought a first kiss was supposed to be like, what was the opposite of that?
Still frowning, Amelie eventually replied, "Maybe it's when you... when you don't love them." Habit, the one born out of endless lessons from cruel tutors and crueller fathers, made her immediately bow her head as though it were an idiotic answer she was about to be snapped at for. Logic, on the other hand, told her she was right; if you were supposed to love the people you kissed, then that made sense why it always sounded so nice in her books and yet every noble they ever met seemed to dislike kissing their partners, their parents included.
Emilie hummed. "Why would you kiss them if you don't love them?" she wondered, unsure. The thought made the globe stumble in her hands, and for a moment she merely passed it side to side over her stomach as though the thought were deeply upsetting.
"Mum and Da-" Amelie stopped herself, heart racing for a moment as she recalled the way her father reacted to being called so casually; she didn't know how Emilie still called him that, or why she so stubbornly refused to stop. "Mother and Father," she corrected herself, "kiss sometimes." Mother never looked particularly happy about it, and it usually happened after Father started to smell excessively of alcohol. His hands were very... grabby, it seemed, at those times.
Emilie's sneer this time was one of disgust. "Why?" she asked, obviously imagining the upsetting sight.
Amelie shrugged, unsure. "Because they're supposed to, I guess," she replied, though she wasn't sure that was the answer. Why were they supposed to? Who was telling them to?
Emilie hummed, unconvinced. "If it's not love making a kiss bad..." her voice trailed off, "What else could it be?"
"Maybe it's when you smell bad," Amelie offered after another moment of thought. Many of the nobles wore too-strong cologne and perfume; maybe they made those faces when they kissed because they got too close to each other and could smell it.
Emilie caught the globe and sat up in the bed, grinning. "Yeah! Or when you knock teeth!"
Amelie giggled, covering her mouth with both hands. "Or when you've got boogers."
Emilie squealed and laughed excessively, smacking Amelie's pillows with her hands. As her laughter died down, her eyes opened wide and she gasped quietly. "I've got an idea!" she stated suddenly, loudly whispering as though it were a secret she couldn't quite contain. "C'mere, c'mere!" She quickly waved Amelie over with both hands.
Intrigued by the intensity of her tone, Amelie left her book on the ground and pushed herself up. Her skirt was still backwards and her shirt was still awkwardly twisted around her torso, but she made no move to correct either as she hurried over to her sister's side.
"How do I smell?" Emilie asked, grinning up at Amelie from where she lay on the bed, looking for all the world like some kind of sleeping beauty.
Amelie's brow quirked again in that curious way as she lean low to sniff her sister. She smelled like soap and shampoo and the fresh hay she'd snuck into the stables to roll in before she was caught and sent to her room. Her breath smelled like the strawberry jam she'd smeared on her scone at tea time, a small treat she bemoaned wasn't sweet enough, though they weren't allowed to have anything sweeter lest they overindulge.
"You smell sweet," Amelie giggled, curious.
Emilie tilted her head back on the pillow, showing her sister an unflattering angle of her face and a view directly up her nose. "Do I have any boogies?"
"Ew!" Amelie giggled again, almost squealing. She dutifully checked, l shifting her position this way and that to fully check. She shook her head and said, "No, no boogies."
Emilie sat up and leaned over to Amelie, so close she seemed at danger of falling off the edge of the bed. Amelie, standing stock still, watched as Emilie, at her chest, sniffed her. "You smell like toothpaste," Emilie said, frowning thoughtfully; Amelie wasn't surprised, as she'd spilled some of the foam on herself when brushing this morning. Emilie then tilted her neck back so far it looked awkward and almost painful. Looking up Amelie's nose, she grinned and said, "No boogies!"
Amelie giggled as Emilie flopped back onto the bed. "What're you doing, Emilie?" she asked, her curiosity beginning to make it hard to be patient.
Emilie made herself comfortable, wiggling in the bed as she settled into it. She laid straight on the mattress, legs together and hands cupped around the snow globe she held on her stomach, looking how their grandfather did in the casket at his funeral two years prior. Her hair was fanned out wildly around her head, giving her the appearance of the sun, and she smiled as brightly as if she were.
"Okay," Emilie beamed. "Kiss me!"
Amelie's heart skipped and she blushed, eyes growing so wide it surely looked comical. "What?!" she shrieked, surprised. What was Emilie talking about?! They couldn't couldn't do that! It was... strange!
Emilie let the globe balance on her stomach as she made grabby hands at her sister. "Come on, kiss me!" she demanded, pouting slightly.
"Why?!" Amelie asked, taking a step back. Her hands curled in her skirt to stop them from fidgeting, though she couldn't do anything about the speeding of her heart.
Clearly growing annoyed, Emilie propped herself up on her elbows and frowned at her sister, glaring slightly. "We should practice kissing! We don't want bad first kisses," she explained as though it were the most obvious thought in the world.
"But- but what about that boy?" Amelie didn't understand. "If we kissed that would be... our first kiss!"
"No," Emilie shook her head patiently. "Because we're sisters, so it doesn't count."
"Yes it does!" Amelie argued, still blushing. "Because we're still kissing!"
"A first kiss is only between a girl and the boy she loves," Emilie replied obstinately, explaining it as though Amelie were the strange one for not believing her.
"That's not... that's not right!" Amelie argued, shaking her head again. She slowly relaxed her grip in her skirt and finally stepped forward once more. Her shock wearing off, the seeds of doubt were beginning to sprout in her mind from how sure Emilie was.
Emilie rolled her eyes dramatically and huffed. "When the nannies kissed us as babies, was that our first kiss?"
"No..." Amelie replied unsurely. They were babies; kissing babies didn't count, she was pretty sure. Nobles and politicians and celebrities kissed babies all the time, and the newspapers printed it every time.
"What about when Uncle Alexander kisses us?" Emilie asked, nodding slowly.
"No..." Amelie replied again, still unsure. Their uncle had a habit of swooping them in his arms and kissing them all over their faces and making them sit on his lap, but she was pretty sure none of his kisses counted.
"What about little baby Thomas?" Emilie finally urged, her lips twitching with the smile she was trying to hide.
"No..." Amelie shook her head, most confident in this answer. Their youngest baby cousin, just a toddler when last they saw each other years ago, gave very wet kisses as greeting. There was no way those counted as anybody's first kiss, either Thomas' or their own.
"So if those don't count, why would this?" Emilie held one hand out palm up as if the answer were obvious.
Amelie shifted on her feet and bit her lip as she thought. What was it that made it different? Emilie and Amelie were sisters, and they were even twins on top of that. And if it didn't count for Uncle Alexander or Thomas, both boys related to them, then maybe....
"We can't get married..." she mumbled, more to herself than to Emilie as she thought it through.
Emilie nodded patiently. "We can't marry the nannies, or Uncle Alexander, or Thomas, either."
"We're both girls..." Amelie mumbled, frowning to herself. There was still something nagging at her, a feeling that this was wrong - or, at least, that they would get in trouble if someone saw them do it. That was what really worried her, the fact that she didn't know what punishment await them if it truly was wrong.
"And a first kiss is s'posed to be between a girl and a boy," Emilie agreed, nodding harder and smiling slightly. "Otherwise it's not a first kiss." That was the strongest argument Emilie had yet; Amelie had never seen or even heard of two girls kissing before. She didn't think it had ever been done.
Amelie fidgeted, hands playing with the hem of her skirt as she thought. She was conflicted, more than she thought was fair. It was scary, the thought that they might be caught, as though someone in the castle - like their Father - would just know all of a sudden and come bursting through their door to catch them in the act. Though Emilie's argument was convincing, Amelie could just imagine any number of punishments; no meals, or being locked in their rooms - no, not even their rooms, but guest rooms with nothing to play with or entertain themselves - all day, or extra schoolwork, or more tutoring sessions, or having their bums spanked until they couldn't walk, or having their ears tugged until it felt like they would fall off, or having their wrists slapped until they ached, or, or, or...
But still... she was curious. She didn't care as much about her first kiss as Emilie did, but what if her sister was right and having a good first kiss was important? Maybe all the nobles they knew had bad first kisses and that's why they didn't love each other. She still wasn't convinced that kissing her twin wouldn't count, but if it did, she loved Emilie more than anyone else; maybe that would be good enough to make up for all the other kisses she would have the rest of her life. If they were good kisses, that would just be a bonus!
As though sensing Amelie's doubt crumbling, Emilie lay back down and held her arms out, wiggling her fingers. "Come on!" she grinned. "Kiss me!"
Amelie sucked a deep breath in through her teeth, eyes flitting up to Emilie's face and then away. She felt almost dizzy with the tumultuous unease she was feeling. It almost felt like whatever move she made next might change the course of her life; it was a heaving, frightening feeling.
She glanced over at the door, then back at her sister. "Close your eyes," she finally whispered, voice wavering.
Emilie's smile turned into a pout in an instant. "Why should I?" she whined unhappily.
"Do it or I won't kiss you," Amelie replied seriously, matching her pout. She was barely hanging on to her conviction by a thread, and if Emilie didn't bow to her demands immediately, Amelie knew she would get scared away.
As though sensing this, Emilie huffed. "Fine," she replied unhappily, still pouting. She closed her eyes just as she was told. "Now k-"
Before Amelie lose her nerve, Amelie rushed forward and pressed her lips to Emilie's. It was poor timing and too rough; Emilie squeaked as their mouths clacked together, teeth rattling and breath whistling through the hole of her missing tooth. When Amelie pulled back, cheeks pink and a quiet hiss of pain on her tongue, Emilie immediately touched her own lip; when she brought her hand away, there was a tiny dot of red on her finger.
"T-there," Amelie stuttered. Seeing the blood had every fearful emotion in her body suddenly going haywire, and there were now tears in her eyes as she shook like a leaf. "Are you happy? Can we-"
"We gotta do it again!" Emilie declared, almost too loudly. She didn't seem affected in the least by any pain or anxiety, and it seemed to Amelie that she must be broken since that was the case; she didn't even flinch when Amelie shushed her.
"What?! No, we-!" Amelie argued wetly, sniffling and trying not to cry. She'd clearly messed it up and now Emilie was bleeding! Why would they try again?! What if Emilie lost a tooth this time?! She was already missing one, she didn't need to lose more!
It was Emilie's turn to cut her twin off. Without waiting or even attempting to explain her reasoning, she reached up and grabbed Amelie's face with both hands, then pulled her down. Eyes tightly shut, still smiling even with puckered lips, Emilie kissed Amelie, this time gentle and soft and unhurried, all the opposite of the previous kiss.
Amelie blinked in surprise. A lone tear drifted down her cheek, unnoticed by either of them, and nestled into the space between Emilie's finger and thumb. Even without trying to, Amelie felt herself... relaxing, like her anxieties were lifting off of her. The knot in her stomach slowly untied itself, only to be replaced with warmth and a feeling almost of fluttering, like that feeling when she peered over the highest banister and saw the floor several stories below.
Emilie's hands, warm on her cheeks and slightly sticky, felt like they were tethering her, keeping her present, and Emilie's lips were soft, just a little bit wet, and felt pruned like skin after a long bath. It should've been a funny sensation, Amelie thought. Or maybe it should've felt wrong. Instead it just felt like they were two puzzle pieces locking together, finding the place they were supposed to fit.
The tension evaporated from Amelie, her shoulders drooping and her eyes slowly but surely drifting closed. Like this, she could feel nothing but their two bodies and the connection between them. Emilie's warm breath, exhaled through her nostrils onto Amelie's face. Emilie's chest, rising and falling underneath Amelie's where Amelie was forcibly held against her. Emilie's love and comforting aura, pouring out of her and wrapping around Amelie as if in a hug. Even the globe, cold and harsh between their bellies, barely felt present, no more inconsequential than a loose button.
Emilie finally released Amelie's face a moment later, falling back into the pillow with a big smile. She was breathless, her voice giggly and warm as she said, "How was that? How d'you feel?"
Amelie stood unmoving, still hovering over Emilie as though held in place by an invisible force. She blinked owlishly and struggled to reply; there was a pleasant buzzing in her head and all of her thoughts were fuzzy and far away. She licked her lips and found herself looking at Emilie's, the spot of blood from a moment ago nowhere to be found. Distinctly, heart pounding in her chest, Amelie realized she wanted another kiss. In fact, it was almost impossible to think of anything else but that.
Swallowing thickly, Amelie very slowly straightened up, feeling herself turning red all over. "I-it.... it was fine," she admitted, covering her mouth with her hand and looking away. "I dunno." Unsteadily, she turned and began to walk back to her spot on the floor, suddenly overwhelmed. What was this feeling? What was going on?
Emilie hummed, looking up at the ceiling again. "I wonder if that's what a first kiss feels like," she said thoughtfully, tapping her chin with her finger. "D'you think we need to try again?"
In an instant, Amelie was tripping over herself to run back to the bed. "OKAY!" she readily agreed, far too loud as she started to climb onto the bed over her giggling sister.
There was a single knock at the door, sharp and fast and as loud as a firecracker.
The girls, well trained to the noise, both reacted in an instant; excitement and joy blossomed into dread as Amelie immediately climbed off the bed and backed away as quickly as possible, while at the same time Emilie placed the globe, snow now softly, hesitantly swirling, back on the side table and got up, smoothing her shirt. The two girls stood ramrod straight and with their hands at their sides. Amelie noticed Emilie chew her lip and rub the flat of her fingernails against her skirt - a habit Amelie knew was from worry; curious, since Emilie had so vehemently said they were doing nothing wrong. The door opened a second later.
Ramsey, the stern, aged head butler of the estate, stepped into the room. His eyes swept over the two of them, and it was clear he distrusted them, though it wasn't his place to inquire or to scold; Amelie suspected he didn't know what they'd been doing, and so couldn't scold them anyway. After all, how would he know what was happening behind a closed door? Emilie stared at him head on as soon as he was visible, all momentary worry seemingly forgotten; Amelie trembled as she stared through him, knowing very well that he wasn't the one they needed to be afraid of.
"Your tutors have arrived," he announced in his drawling, low voice. His eyes narrowed as they swept over the girls. "Miss Amelie, it does not befit a Lady of your stature to be in such an unbecoming state of dress."
Amelie squeaked, her heart nearly stopped as she quickly righted her backwards skirt and twisted shirt, hands shaking all the while. Without another word, Ramsley walked from the room, and she had no doubt where he was going.
Later, as corporal punishment was being served for her poor wardrobe etiquette, clothing wrinkled from earlier, tears rolled down Amelie's cheeks. She kept her eyes closed and her mouth clenched, knowing that accepting her punishment with grace and silence was the surest way for it to end quickly. To distract her mind from the pain, she thought of the kiss; Emilie's hands holding her face, Emilie's warmth, Emilie's smile, the way Emilie made the entire world melt away for just a moment, leaving softness in her wake. Even if it was wrong (which Amelie still suspected it was), she hoped Emilie would ask for another go soon, since Amelie herself never could be so brave.
After all, their first kisses needed to be perfect, right?