Adara and Aphera take me to my room to help with the Mary costume. All my excitement for tonight has vanished. My head doesn't hurt so much now, but my hands won't stop giving feeble little shivers. I don't know what's happened, what's changed, but I find myself huddling close to my sisters instead of dashing ahead of them.

Aphera closes the door behind us. Instead of going to my wardrobe to find the costume, she kneels in front of me and pulls me suddenly into her arms. I blink, startled. Aphera's grip is so tight I can hardly breathe. Then Adara sits beside us and wraps her arms around us both. No one speaks. I can't stop shaking.

"I'm so, so sorry," Aphera whispers, leaning back. Her eyes shine and she doesn't bother wiping them. Her gaze shifts to Adara. "He did-?"

Adara nods. She hasn't let me go still. "He was angry. I don't think he even noticed."

"What?" I ask, looking from one sister to the other.

The tears slip over Aphera's cheek. She lets them fall. Takes my hands. "You are nearly old enough to learn this in lessons. But our family-we have an ability called Syllor's Curse. It means we can give orders and people have to follow them. Sometimes it is done intentionally, but sometimes-especially with men, who can't control it as well-sometimes it just happens. The curse means we can control what people feel and think and do."

I stare at Aphera. The splinter in my head aches.

"Father..." Aphera glances at Adara. "He doesn't mean to. At least, not on us. But there have been times..."

"When Aphera and I left the palace to find a birthday surprise for Mom," Adara says softly. "We were little-we didn't realize what we were doing. He was so worried and angry he used the curse. We cannot leave the grounds without his permission."

My heart stutters. I grip Aphera's hands, trying to make sense of this. Not wanting to make sense of it.

"When Mom was dying, it all happened so suddenly-we didn't know what was wrong." Aphera glances up at the window in my room. "I went to the window to bring in fresh air, but Father yelled at me not to open the latch. He didn't want a draft to make her illness worse. But now... I can't..."

"Curses can be broken." I look from one sister to the other. "Right? Can't curses be broken?"

They exchange a look. Adara sighs. "The only person who can break this one is King Bhaitar."

"Oh." The room seems to grow darker. King Bhatair is always picking fights with Father, always turning small nonsense into an embarrassing argument. Mother used to scold Father for egging the other king on, but things only grew worse after she died. Father and King Bhaitar can't be in a room more than an hour without getting into some sort of argument. Father always insists it's in good fun, but I don't think King Bhaitar sees it that way.

Imagining my father, proud and kind, admitting to anyone-much less petty King Bhaitar-that he had accidentally cursed me and my sisters... Just picturing it in my mind is impossible.

Adara squeezes me against her side. Aphera sees my thoughts and gives a slow nod.

"There is no cure for us, not until Father allows it," Aphera says softly. Her eyes grow steely. "Or until we are old enough to claim it ourselves."

"So I won't be able to lie?" I rub my arms, cold. I don't really want to lie to my father, but the knowledge that I couldn't makes my skin itch. "He said not to lie to him, and my head hurt."

Adara nods. "You won't be able to lie to him now, I think."

"But there is a bit of hope." Aphera smiles grimly. "Women are better at the curse. Which means we're also better at twisting it, manipulating curses over us. You won't be able to tell him a direct lie. But with time and practice, you can find ways. When he first commanded me not to open the window, I couldn't even ask someone to open it for me. I can now. And soon, I'll be able to undo the latch myself." She straightens, no-nonsense again. "You'll get stronger, too."

A bell chimes somewhere in the palace. I want to wrap myself in a blanket and never leave my room. But Aphera stands, brushing off her angel wings.

"Come, we have to get you dressed. Tomorrow I will speak to Father-make him aware of what has happened. But tonight, we will continue as we would have. We are Shephards, after all." Her mouth twists. "We do not give up."

Later, I stand on the makeshift stage, my hair bound in my scarf. I pretend to be gardening when Aphera steps up next to me, arms lifted to show the full span of her angel wings. Her face is serene, at once peaceful and severe. The face of a general preparing her battlecry. The face of a princess soon to shatter every curse.

The face of a sister determined to survive.

"Rejoice, highly favored one, the Lord is with you; blessed are you among women!" Aphera says. "Do not be afraid."

My eyes sting and I'm not acting. Today has changed everything, and for once I really do feel like Mary-on the cusp of a new world I don't understand.

But then it is time for my line. I open my mouth, but before I can speak the splinter cuts through my mind. I bite my lip to keep from speaking. The truth wells up in me-a truth full of terror and hurt and family secrets. I look out into the gathered audience-servants, lords, ladies, mayors, stablehands. There, in the front row, is Father.

Maybe he sees the panic in my eyes. Maybe he thinks that I've forgotten the line.

He smiles and gives me a little nod. Go on.

I grit my teeth and tear my gaze away. Don't lie, rings in my head. Don't lie to him.

Acting is a lie. Acting is pretending something false. I'm not Mary. I'm only April.

Aphera's watching me with concern. The silence spreads across the large room, getting heavier and heavier. I can't open my lips. I don't know what's going to come out.

My gaze catches on Apen, standing off-stage. He has the star in his hands. His brown eyes are wide and worried. The opals glimmer in the shadow. I heard my mom's laugh in the glimmer, see the gold against her dark hands as she danced it above our heads.

Something in me tightens. This isn't a lie-this play, this performance. This is a truth. It is the truth of what has been, what should be, what will be. I am the vessel of that truth. The stand-in for Mary, who would bear Jesus. Mary, who would bring hope and light and life into a world spinning out of control.

I am not lying. I am telling the story. And the story is true.

My mouth opens, and the line comes-strangled at first, but then easier. "How can this be, since I do not know a man?"

Aphera's eyes gleam with pride. Apen beams at me from off-stage. And the play goes on.

As I act, the splintery feeling stays away. Even though Father is right there, I slide into Mary's character with an ease that feels new, now that just being April has become hard. Everything is right, as long as I am this other character. This other person who is not cursed. I am myself when I am least myself.

After the final act, the audience bursts into an applause more excited than anything I've heard before. Apen runs to me and hugs me around the waist.

"You were brilliant," he says with a grin. Then, quieter, "Sorry about getting lost."

I hug him back and press a kiss to his hair. "It wasn't your fault," I say. "I love you."

Aphera and Adara join us. They each settle a hand on one of my shoulders. I feel their presence like sheltering wings. In the face of the future, and the secret, and the changing world, my sisters have my back. And my brother stands before us, beaming in the way only he can. As radiant as the star.

"Merry Christmas," he says. Then he grabs my hand and drags me forward. "Let's go to mass!"

Aphera laughs. "How about we change first, O Devout One?"

I walk with them, leaning my head against Adara's arm. My family has changed. But my siblings are mine.

Forever.