They told me you were dying. That's why Arabella couldn't come out to play right now; that's why Arabella wouldn't be joining us for dinner. It seemed like the older I grew, the sicker you got. Even though papa forbids it, I'd still sneak into your room with sweets from dessert and I'd tell you stories about royalty and dragons. There wasn't anything I wouldn't do to put a smile on your face - the naive child in me hoped it would make you better. I'd stroke your hair until you fell asleep in my lap and I'd tuck you in when I was ready to leave.

Isn't that what big brothers are supposed to do?

"But we're only a few minutes apart!" You'd retort when I tried to use that excuse.

I miss that Arabella. Mama and papa call this stranger your name now. They said you're too sick to fulfil your family obligation, they won't get their money if there's no wedding. They even shipped me off into the military when I threatened to expose their disgusting scheme. I hate her; I hate them. I fought against this farce until they threatened your life. Now I have to protect her, this girl that I despise, and should I fail, it won't be the illness that claims you... if you're even still alive.

They won't let me visit anymore. Your room is guarded. I just pray you don't think I've abandoned you, sister. I'll save you from this, I swear it.