It was raining. Against the sidewalks and the city streets, the people and their umbrellas and raincoats, the taxis and buses and bus stops, scaffoldings, overhangs, roofs, and windows. The rain beat down on the world, wet, cold, and merciless.

Nessiah pulled the curtains closed and turned around to his unfamiliar new lodging; though it had a certain air of habitation, the entire apartment seemed sterile and alien. It lacked warmth...homeyness, maybe. The sleek, curved, modern design, the stainless steel kitchenware and the pitch-black furniture—he assumed the place to be pre-furnished. He couldn't understand how anyone would want to live in a place like this. This man probably didn't care about where he lived. It made him feel all the more welcome.

"Why am I here?"

Seated on the edge of the black leather couch, Gulcasa tilted his head, as if the answer were obvious. "I can let you back outside, if you want."

He frowned. "Fine then. Why did you bring me to your apartment, then?"

"Because I wanted to."

"That's hardly a reason."

Gulcasa grimaced; despite his obvious restraint, his expression still managed to frighten Nessiah. Gulcasa was a fierce, dark dragon of a man, with impossibly red hair and eyes so amber they were almost gold. "So you'd rather leave, then. Be my guest." He motioned toward the door. "Go."

Nessiah stood still. "Fine," he said.

From the couch, Gulcasa stood up to an imposing stature and impressive height. He looked at Nessiah. "Then what do you want for dinner?"

By Nessiah's frail, diminutive stature, the answer should have been obvious. "Anything."

Luciana struck the stack of papers down at Aegina's desk with enough ferocity to make the desk shudder. "I can't stand it anymore," she huffed. "I'm sick of this job."

Aegina looked up at her from her desk. "You get plenty of work done, though."

"Does it look like I enjoy doing that?"

"Sometimes."

Luciana growled. "I don't even understand why I'm still working here. He won't treat us like his own kids; he won't acknowledge that we're even related. I don't care how much power he has—he shouldn't have that much power. What happened to our rights?"

"Once Yggdra was—"

"For God's sakes, Aegina, I know that. Don't remind me. It'd be pointless to blame her, though," she groaned. "We've been through that, and I don't want to go through it again." Luciana looked at her twin sister. "Isn't there anything you can do?"

Aegina looked surprised. "Are you asking me?"

"Do you see anyone else in here?"

Aegina frowned. "What do you expect me to do?"

"Treat us like his own family, for one. Look at us—we're stuck at the bottom rung."

"Not necessarily—"

"We have to fight our way to the top even though we're directly related to him. That's what I meant." She folded her arms. "We shouldn't have to do that."

Aegina sank her head into her shoulders and stared at her desk, reluctant. "You know...if you're actually asking me to do something..." she glanced at Luciana. "How much do you think we can get done while still being honest?"

Luciana huffed. "Nothing." She seemed to remember something. "What time is it?"

"Four o' clock."

"Dammit. I have a meeting." Luciana glared at her sister. "Come up with something, will you."

"I can't guarantee anything. It's not something I want to—"

"It's not worth worrying over. Just come up with something," Luciana snapped, stomping out of her office.

She slammed the door behind her, and Aegina flinched.

Come up with something...like what?

A long time ago, the Verlaines had a dispute. The dispute ended in the Verlaines' estate being split into two halves—one belonged to the Esmeraldas, the other to the Brantheses. Whoever had the Verlaine name or some other name consequently moved out of the estate, disgusted by that part of the family's wanton little argument. The rivalry continued on through the generations, until a certain situation brought the two sides of the family together for a brief period of time. It had something to do with a distant relative of Yggdra's, a young man named Nessiah Aries Artwaltz, good friends of her friends, Roswell Branthese and Rosary Esmeralda. While Yggdra had never met the young man, she knew Roswell and Rosary very well.

So it shouldn't have been any surprise that they invited her over for tea at the Branthese estate—apparently Roswell had lost some sort of bet to see who would host the gathering. It was only she, Roswell, and Rosary, however, so it seemed that the bet had just been another one of their familial spats...something she herself would never understand.

The Brantheses' breakfast room was luxurious, painted with dark, swarthy, pastel blues and purples. It was moody, but in a proud, regal way, as if it believed it had been born to be moody and no one could convince it otherwise. The tables themselves were covered in gray tablecloths, and all the furniture was a deep, dark mahogany color, matching perfectly with the room's cool, rich hues. This room was in direct contrast with the Esmeraldas' on the other side of the estate, whose breakfast room was full of whites and warm reds, though to Yggdra they both appeared very prideful.

"Remember when we did this with Nessiah? The three of us? You picked on him so much..."

"I did not. I loved Nessiah."

"And that's why you picked on him. You just wanted to assure yourself that there was someone frailer and paler than you."

"That wasn't it at all!"

"Oh? Then what was it?"

"Nessiah was my very dear friend." This was stated with a confidence Yggdra rarely heard out of Roswell, and it surprised her.

She walked into the room, looking a little...taken aback. "Am I interrupting something?"

Sure enough, sitting in the center of the room, at opposite sides of the table, were Roswell and Rosary. They were both beautiful people—gods on earth—and their airs of pride and confidence made them tantalizing, intriguing, mysterious...sensual. These qualities made them extremely intimidating to talk to, but when they disagreed on something, they always had the other to check them. The rare times they managed to cooperate, however, they could be devastating.

They denied she was interrupting anything and welcomed her in, however, and so she took a seat at the table. Yggdra was nervous, skittish; she shouldn't have been, but she was. They had just been talking about Nessiah, hadn't they? Something was off about their expression... They both stared at her dreamily, as if she were someone else.

"Are you sure I'm not in the way of anything?" Yggdra asked once again.

That brought them out of their trance.

"Oh, no," said Roswell awkwardly.

"No..."

"Nothing at all," they chorused, staring at her with blank, surprised looks.

"But it is Nessiah you were talking about," she ventured.

They glanced at each other.

"Well, yes," said Roswell, "but..."

"Ignore the man, Yggdra," Rosary hummed. "He can't get over the fact Nessiah left us."

"But why?"

They stared at her, shocked.

"They didn't tell you?" Roswell asked.

Yggdra shook her head, anxious now. "N...no?"

"She doesn't live with her parents, idiot," Rosary snapped. "Why would they tell her anything?"

"I thought they... Then...she doesn't..."

"Shut up already!"

"Rosary...? Roswell?" Yggdra glanced back and forth between the bickering cousins, who were leaning over the table and arguing in harsh, low tones. "Are you..."

Roswell finally noticed Yggdra. Embarrassed, he mumbled, "I must dearly apologize. That was probably something you would rather not have seen."

Yggdra was troubled. "Um..."

"Drop it," Rosary grunted. "She doesn't need to hear any more of this nonsense."

"All right," Yggdra said quietly, crinkling her skirts. "Then..."

"Then," Roswell grumbled, "we should be getting the tea by now." He pushed himself out of his seat. "I'll go see what's taking so long, damned kitchen..."

Once he left, Yggdra found herself alone with Rosary.

"What?" asked Rosary. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

"I'm not..." Yggdra struggled with her words, "his...replacement, am I?"

"Nessiah's?" Rosary asked. "No," she knit her brow, "no, not at all! We were just remembering something, that's all. It's just easier to reminisce when two experiences seem to reflect each other..." She shook her head dismissively. "Something like that. Never mind. Ignore that nonsense."

"So I am," Yggdra said nervously.

Rosary was exasperated. "You're not. You're a girl, and you acted nothing like him. I don't know why Roswell was so fascinated with him; he babbled on too much about things I didn't understand. He's not the kind of person you'd want to invite to tea, but Roswell insisted. They got along better than I did with Nessiah." She shrugged. "But it's not like it matters anymore."

"What happened?"

"I'm not allowed to tell you. I don't know why, but I'm not, and I don't want to test their patience or my luck," said Rosary. "Roswell might be willing to tell you." She sighed. "I bet he'd think that telling you might bring him back."

"Oh..." Yggdra said quietly.

"The jam, they were out of apricot jam!" Roswell groaned, gesticulating wildly as he walked back into the room. "Forget about the jam already; just get us the food! Am I really that terrifying? Does it really look like I'd care that much about the jam? We have a thousand other varieties—"

"Roswell, I'd like you to know you are a terrifying beast," Rosary remarked snidely.

"Oh no, you are far scarier," Roswell retorted, pulling his seat back out to sit in it. "Was there anything I missed?"

Rosary smiled. "No, nothing."

Roswell looked at Yggdra, whose expression was the absolute opposite of Rosary's. "Are you sure about that?"

"It wasn't anything important," Yggdra mumbled.

Roswell frowned, unconvinced. "If you say so..."