Chapter Text
The scent of Grandma's tea warms my heart, but she chills it again. Her mere presence makes my room, warm from the summer, feel as cold as if it were the middle of winter.
–God… I have so many questions.– That's the only thing that came out of my mouth, seeing my reflection in the liquid of the trembling cup between my hands.
I see her again, as elegant as she is imperturbable, with the porcelain cup on her lips and her eyes closed, showing her long black eyelashes. I inevitably looked at her head, seeing those striking pink horns sticking out of her hat. It bothered her that I called them that.
–How did you die?
–They burned me at the stake.
From there, I began to write every word. Cordelia was a 15th-century duchess who was so hated by some, jealous people, that they nicknamed her “the pink devil”. She was going to marry a prince, but he ended up sending her to the stake by accusing her of being a witch for the simple fact of using her head to think, something he didn't do, all her words.
Apparently she was the favorite among her five siblings, being the one who had the best studies.
–What color is this?
–Pale pink.
I stand there thinking, looking at her and back at the plastic sunflower in my hand.
–But… this is yellow.– I say somewhat confused, earning that judgmental look she always had in her paintings.
–Don't you dare contradict me! I say something is pink and they tell me it's orange, I say something is light blue and they tell me it's green, what stupid people!
She said offended, firmly avoiding returning my gaze. She also hates being contradicted.