Candle

"I'm sorry…"

She looked at him – really looked at him. "You think I didn't know?! How you used me, what you did to my brother and father… I knew all along! But even then, even then…" Slowly, the fire of fury in her obsidian eyes died, and tears began to fill their corners instead. "I always loved you for your dreams, for your goals. Why do you apologize to me now? You don't need to say sorry. You're my husband and the man I will always love."

He said nothing.

She turned away. "If I were to die… would you shed tears for me?"

Still, he said nothing. Defeated, she began to walk away – out of the room and out of his life forever. After all, it was futile to stay. She had served her purpose and was no longer of any use to him. From that point on, she was nothing more than another widow of the war, fleeing the capital of a ruined kingdom with nothing but the clothes she wore and the memories she treasured in her heart.

Then the wind carried his plea to her ears in a song so melodious, in an instant she had turned back around to hurry back into his waiting arms. "Please live, Jillia," he said softly, but as he held her as tightly as he ever dared, she saw right through the King of Highland and found the boy from Kyaro whose heart beat in sync with hers.

And L'Renouille continued to burn.

-x-

Jillia blinked, then swiftly turned her eyes away from the candle's dancing flames. While she had already finished cooking dinner and cleaning up the kitchen, there were still a couple of things left for her to do. Quickly, yet with the elegance and grace of the queen she once had been, she set the plates, glasses, utensils and dishes in place. Then, she pulled back to scrutinize her work, before she proceeded to meticulously fix every piece that was out of place.

She hadn't even finished when she heard the door open. Her eyes slightly widened at how soon her guest had arrived, and so she quickly put on the finishing touches and straightened her dress.

"Auntie Jillia!" Pilika cooed as soon as she found her in the dining room, and without wasting a moment she threw her schoolbag away and dashed at the older woman for a hug. She then pulled back, grinning brightly. "I missed you so much! And wow!" she exclaimed upon seeing the meal that had been prepared especially for her. Excited, she hurriedly took her place at the table and started to examine each and every dish.

Jillia smiled, amused not only with the way Pilika was acting, but also with how much she had grown over the past few months. She was taller, bubblier and ten times more confident than when she had left to start a new term at the Greenleaf Academy. And, realizing that the little girl she had taken care of all these years had blossomed into a beautiful young lady, she was very thankful that she never forgot to come home to celebrate her birthday with her. After all, she was all that she had left.

Pilika's voice interrupted her trail of thoughts. "Oh, Auntie Jillia, I almost forgot," she began as she jumped out of her seat to take something out of the schoolbag she had carried with her, "I got you something." She triumphantly pulled out a necklace from one of the bag's inner pockets; then she stood up and held it out with one hand for the other woman to take. It was a finely crafted gold necklace with an Opal for a pendant. "Happy birthday!"

The former queen of Highland could not believe that Pilika went through all the trouble to acquire something so valuable for her. Slowly, and with a hint of hesitation, she reached out to take the necklace from her adopted daughter's hand and traced it gingerly with her fingers. It was simply beautiful.

"Can I put it on for you? Please, Auntie Jillia?"

She nodded, and with the same enthusiasm as she had always displayed, Pilika proceeded to put the necklace on her. Then, she took her by the hand and led her to the large mirror in their living room. "I knew it'd look great on you!" she exclaimed jubilantly. She then lowered her voice as she confessed, "I actually got it at a bargain sale. Meg and Millie helped me pick. I was afraid it wouldn't be classy enough for your taste, but it serves its purpose, I guess… Oh, Auntie Jillia, don't cry!"

She had wanted to hold back her tears, but found that she couldn't. It had been so long since she had felt this wonderful, so long since she had felt this loved, and it was overwhelming. "Thank you, Pilika. Thank you so much," she said as she embraced the girl, her voice muffled by her sobs. "I… I didn't think you would go through all this trouble… just for me…"

"Oh, Auntie Jillia, it's nothing! It's the least I can do to repay you for taking care of me all these years," Pilika said in reply, flashing her a shy smile. Then, she gently took her hand, enclosing it within hers, and when she spoke, her voice was softer and more serious in tone. For a moment, she was almost like Jowy. "I came to you as an orphan, yet you took me in as if I was your own. I can never thank you enough for your kindness."

Jillia reached out with her free hand to stroke Pilika's hair tenderly. "I am grateful to you as well. That day we fled L'Renouille, I thought I lost everything. But you've given me so many reasons to be happy, and you have been so patient with me in all my failures and shortcomings. Thank you."

They spent the next minute crying in each other's arms, like two long-lost friends who had been separated by the war and had not seen each other for a long time. Then, they went to the dining room together, hand in hand and almost skipping, like excited little girls who knew something big was in store for dinner yet didn't know what exactly it was.

Dinner took longer than usual, as Pilika had more stories to tell this time around. She spoke of ghosts, secret passages, funny books and cafeteria food. She talked about her classmates and friends, and about how she would become an instant celebrity once her involvement in the Dunan Unification War would be made public. But what she found most amusing – and Jillia as well – was the tradition of the female students to chase blue-caped men (whether students, teachers or ordinary townsfolk) all around town during the yearly celebration of Greenhill's liberation from Highland. And of course, she did not fail to mention how a former member of the Dunan Army made the mistake of going into Greenhill during that time of the year, so he had a horde of schoolgirls running after him the whole day.

"Flik almost had a heart attack!" Pilika finished dramatically, and she was laughing so hard, she nearly choked on her food.

When she had finished narrating all the stories she had to tell, Pilika spent the rest of the meal scrutinizing Jillia's cooking. Though it still wasn't the best, the former queen had certainly gone a long way from when she first started doing business in the kitchen. In the beginning it was just her way of keeping herself occupied in their manor at Harmonia. But when things cooled down in Dunan and Pilika was of the right age to begin her studies at the Greenleaf Academy in Greenhill, they decided it was best to move to a nearer town, and so they settled in Coronet like a normal family rebuilding from the war. There, Jillia became a full-time mother just like all the others, without her maids to do the chores and her every bidding, and cooking became a way of life.

In the midst of enjoying dessert – which was Jillia's strongest point – Pilika suddenly said, "The next thing we should do, Auntie Jillia, is find you a husband."

This time it was Jillia who nearly choked on her food. "A husband?"

"Why not?"

The candlelight flickered.

Jillia found herself staring at the flames, once more drifting into the shadows of the life she had left behind. There, she found herself in Jowy's arms amidst the burning rubble that was L'Renouille, desperately holding on to a love that was not meant to last.

"Please live, Jillia…"

Could she, really?

Could she finally put the past behind her and live?

So Jillia Blight, Queen of Highland, made her choice. She stayed behind in L'Renouille with her King, the man she vowed to serve, and, above all, the man she loved. And from the blazing furnace a young widow emerged – a victim of the war but with a candle of hope in her heart.

She then looked at the young girl sitting across her and smiled. "Yes, Pilika, I think we should."

And the candle continued to burn.

In memory of him.