For the third time this week Felicia found herself crying over spilt tea—she doubted Lady Corrin could continue to forgive her at this rate. The Maid had such a long track list of mistakes and accidents that it was a miracle she still had her job to begin with. It was highly probable that Jakob had suggested firing Felicia several times; given his annoyance with her mess ups, it was seeming more and more possible. Especially in cases like this, where she spilt the tea that the Butler so carefully crafted for Lady Corrin and her Hoshidan siblings. The Maid came to the conclusion that it was most likely simple pity that kept Corrin from sending her away, and she wasn't sure if the idea of being pitied or the idea of being let go was scarier. She supposed it would have to wait until her liege said something about it.
Wiping her eyes, Felicia began to search for something she could use to clean up the mess. She spotted a lone towel draped over an empty weapon rack; a training towel, no doubt. She could use it to wipe the mess and have it cleaned and returned and ready for use again. Provided, of course, she didn't screw it up.
The thought of messing it up caused Felicia to hesitate, her hand trembling as it stopped just centimetres away from the towel. It was white as snow, a new, crisp training towel whose only experience was being mostly unfolded and then draped across a rack. Using the towel to clean her mess would stain it, and no extent of Felicia's terrible cleaning skills would ever be able to get the tea stains out. She let out a sigh, her hand flopping down to her side. There would have to be something else she could use; even a used training towel would be better than ruining someone's new one. But looking around proved fruitless, as there was no other towel or cloth or anything similar in the room. Unless she tried to use the skirt of her uniform, the fresh training towel was the only option.
With a quiet sigh, Felicia turned back to face the mess and shuffled towards it. She sat down in a way that positioned the mess at her side. The sides of her skirt were longer than the front, and would make for a better "towel." She curled her fingers, gripping the fabric and leaning over the better reach. The liquid seeped into the fabric, soaking it. Felicia leaned herself forwards, backwards, and to the sides to mop up as much as she could. By the time her skirt was verging on sopping there was still some tea on the ground; how much of Jakob's tea had she spilt in the first place? Or perhaps a better question was how much tea had Jakob made in the first place? It seemed like so much, and she wondered how he managed to fit so much in that little teapot. It was overwhelming, to the point where the young girl could feel the tears welling in her eyes again. Fantastic. Maybe she should be sent away; she couldn't even clean up a simple mess of liquid.
You're useless, Felicia! she thought, I doubt Lady Corrin wants you sticking around any longer–
"Felicia?"
The Maid let out a scream of surprise, her legs springing her upwards. She stumbled, falling backwards onto her bottom, completely flustered. She could feel a throbbing pain in her tailbone, but it was drowned out by crushing nerves when she found herself face to face with her liege. "L-Lady Corrin!" she stammered out, "I-I-I'm s-sorry, I–"
"There's a towel right there that you could have used to clean up the mess, you know," the silver-haired noble's lips were curved into a soft smile; Corrin's smile always had a calming effect on people, and Felicia often found herself succumbing to the calming effect more than most. However the Maid's nervousness was overwhelming, and not even the grace and loveliness of her liege was enough to stop it. Swallowing the urge to cry, she slowly rose to her feet, folding her hands in front of her. Her fingers fidgeted, nails dragging across the skin under her cuticles of the opposite hand.
"I-it's..." she murmured, "I-it's a training towel, my Lady..." Her eyes couldn't bring themselves to look at Corrin. "I d... I-I didn't want to ruin it..." Felicia's voice broke as she spoke, and she dug her nails into her knuckles for it. She was letting her emotions get the better of her; another fault that would disappointing her liege.
"It gets dirty anyway between the sweat and dirty and occasional blood,"as Corrin spoke Felicia's lowered eyes could see her bared feet stepping around the remains of the spillage and stopping in front of her. The Maid's stomach flipped in unpredictable directions, and she felt like she was going to be sick. She was glad Jakob wasn't there to reprimand her, but Corrin's proximity and the given situation made her so nervous she was certain the noble could hear her heart pounding out of her chest. The anxiety always picked the worst time to really show.
"M-my liege, s-someone might have l-left it there a-and–"
"Felicia, don't worry about it!" Corrin patted the Maid's shoulder and she tensed up, but her liege didn't seem to notice. The silver-haired woman sidestepped, reaching forward and grabbing the towel. Felicia's eyes slowly crawled upwards, and Corrin still had that same sweet, lovely and therapeutic smile that she always wore when something had gone wrong. Her eyes were soft; Felicia found herself noticing that there were small flecks of violet in those scarlet irides, surrounding her slit pupils. She'd never seen those eyes up this close before, and they were rather beautiful. She shook her head, noticing she was getting distracted. When she grounded herself again she noticed Corrin was no longer standing there, but was on her knees wiping up the remains of the tea spill.
"L-Lady Corrin!" Felicia stuttered, "Please, don't clean up after me!" She scrambled over (how she managed to scramble such a short distance was beyond her, but she did) and squatted next to her liege, reaching to take the towel from Corrin; the noble raised a hand to stop her, shaking her head and looking at her.
"You're flustered, and your clumsiness gets a lot worse when you're flustered," she answered, "It's only a little bit, anyway. We'll get to washing your uniform when I've got the rest of this wiped up." Corrin offered yet another smile, and Felicia's heart sank. She really didn't deserve this kindness and patience; if she were Lady Corrin she would have long fired the Maid. It was such a painful truth it was almost mind-numbing. But Felicia was too incompetent to let that numbness envelop her.
—
The basin was sudsy and filled just to the bottom of the metal rim that held the wooden planks together; not to the top like how Felicia would have done. Had she filled the basin the water would have overflown and her uniform would have somehow become worse off than before. Lady Corrin was more skilled in chores than her own Maid, and Felicia never felt more worthless in her life. She was supposed to help her liege, but it was the other way around. The salmon-haired girl dug her fingers into the cotton fabric of the nightgown she wore in placement of her uniform and bit her lip, the tears welling in her eyes again. Her throat closed up and she could feel her chest constricting. She felt the urge to be sick, she was a failure to her liege and would most likely be better off dead. Felicia doubted she could even hold back the emotions in front of Corrin. She'd break down sobbing and the noble would comfort her, and she'd feel even worse than before and–
"Felicia?"
The Maid gasped loudly, snapping out of her self-deprecating thoughts. Corrin was crouched down next to her, Felicia's dirty dress in her arms. Her eyes were swirling with what looked to be worry, but Felicia believe it was simple pity. There was no way a noble could be worried about a useless Maid.
"Felicia..." Corrin mumbled, "Please talk to me. You seem more upset about your mess ups than usual." She placed a hand on Felicia's shoulder, and the Maid pulled away from the touch abruptly.
"My liege, I know this is out of place of me, but I don't understand why you keep me around!" Felicia cried. There was no stopping the tears now, and she hunched over in hopes of hiding her face. She dug her fingernails into her palms, praying that the pain would choke the tears back a little longer. "You had Flora at Castle Krakenburg, you still have Jakob with you now, and yet you still keep me around even though all I do is burn breakfast and spill tea and dirty the laundry and add to Jakob's and even your workload! That's the complete opposite of my job! So why!? Why, Lady Corrin, do you keep a messy, useless servant like me around when you have someone like Jakob!?" Her head shot up, salted tears streaming down her cheeks. She let out a quiet gasp as Corrin's facial expression registered; eyes wide and wet, mouth slightly agape. Felicia didn't know what to make of it, and she was afraid to guess—to make a wrong assumption.
"F... Felicia..." her name grated against her eardrums. She didn't even want to hear it anymore; not from Lady Corrin, not from anyone. With a frustrated shake of her head the Maid sprang to her feet and took off out of the laundry tent, her liege's cries haunting every heavy step she took.
—
Felicia couldn't even begin to guess how much time had passed; all she knew was that it was dark, her eyes stung and were swollen from heavy crying, and her scalp ached from compulsively tearing hair out. Everything hurt, and she was exhausted. She just wanted to sleep her misery off in the dead of night in the middle of the forest. The ground was cold, but it didn't bother her any; she was of the Ice Tribe, and if anything she enjoyed the cold. She'd lay there and sleep her misery away, and return to camp in the morning to most likely be reprimanded by Jakob and maybe even Corrin. It wouldn't be unwarranted, after all. The Maid reached a hand up, wiping the wetness of her emotions off her cheeks; she could feel the bumps from the swelling, stinging more at the slightest touch. She winced at the pain, lowering her hands. She folded them in her lap, fidgeting as the gears began to turn in her mind again. She was thinking, and the guilt of her outburst and her audacity to run away from her liege began to sink in heavily. Felicia dug her fingernails into her knuckles, the emotions bubbling all over again. What was she thinking? If Corrin wasn't angry then, surely she was angry now. There was no way out of it this time; Felicia truly messed it up, and she was certain she was going to pay for it dearly.
The salmon-haired girl slowly rose to her feet, dusting off the cotton nightgown. She sighed heavily, her eyes trailing to the campsite. A hundred metres away from her, people were stowing their weapons and preparing for bed. A hundred metres away from her, her liege was feeling gods only knew what; anger and loathing and disappointment, most likely. The very idea of hurting Corrin struck fear into Felicia's heart; it was the last thing she ever wanted to do. She most likely had hurt Corrin by lashing out and fleeing, and she didn't know if she could ever face the silver-haired noble after that. The Maid adored her liege—more than she ever adored anyone before, perhaps more than she adored her own sister. And to hurt the person she adored most was the most wretched thing she could ever do. Yet she did, and she felt she should be reprimanded.
Felicia turned away from the camp, the looming darkness of the forest around her shortening her field of vision. It was scary, but not nearly as scary as the thoughts she found running through her head. Her fingernails were digging into her knuckles again; subconsciously, this time, and she didn't even realize how deep she had dug before she looked down, seeing a few beads of red surrounding the nails. She quickly separated her hands, gripping the sides of her nightgown to assure she didn't do it again. She let out a sigh, before her attention was drawn by the loud sound of heavy, quick footsteps behind her. The Maid stiffened in fear, before she slowly turned her head. She didn't get a close enough look at what—or who—was pounding her way until she was on the ground, the charging body having knocked her over with a strong, almost breathtaking (literally) embrace. The impact was painful, and Felicia was almost entirely certain she hit her head off a rock; but the thought of that quickly dissipated when she realized it was her Lady Corrin that had tackled her to the ground and embraced her. The silver-haired woman sat up, and Felicia could see the red streaks running down her cheeks; she had been crying hard, and it looked like she had been crying harder than Felicia had.
"Why would you just run off like that!?" Corrin's voice was breaking, and the Maid felt the cold touch of her liege's tears falling onto her cheek. "Y-you can't just... say things like that and run away, you can't do that!"
"M-my Lady..." Felicia stammered. She slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position, Corrin unmoving from her position on Felicia's legs. "P-please, don't... d-don't cry-!" The Maid lifted her hands, cupping the noble's cheeks and wiping the tears away. "D-don't..."
Corrin didn't remove Felicia's hands, instead raising her own to hold them. "Please..." she whispered, "Felicia, don't... don't ever think that I consider Jakob or Flora or anyone to better or more preferable to you..." She locked eyes with Felicia, who couldn't bring herself to look away; those violet flecks were magnified by the tears, but they were anything but beautiful that way. They were painful, hurting eyes, and it was Felicia's fault it happened.
"I-I'm sorry..." Felicia choked, "I-I-I j-just..." She sniffled, unable to finish her sentence. Corrin only shook her head, letting out a choked, short laugh.
"D-don't apologize, Felicia, I know..." she responded with a shaky voice, "But... I need you to promise... I need you to promise me something..." She moved her hands to Felicia's cheeks, brushing them with her thumbs. "Please..."
"A-anything for my liege..." the salmon-haired girl stuttered out.
Corrin gave a soft smile, closing her eyes and leaning her forehead against Felicia's; the Maid felt the heat rushing to her cheeks and her heart pounding out of her chest at this. "Please... stay by my side until the end, Felicia..." she whispered, "Felicia, you don't understand how much you truly mean to me... but I want you to never leave me, and never think that I ever want you gone..." her voice was shaking more and more as she spoke. She pulled away, her eyes watering again. The salmon-haired girl felt herself tearing up, too, her throat tightening with emotion. "I... I love you, Felicia... more than anyone in the world." Corrin continued, and Felicia felt her heart stop dead in her chest.
Her lips quivered, her jaw stuttering as if she were trying to speak. No words came out; she had no idea what to say, how to properly react. She could only sit there, mouth agape, eyes wide, and her hands falling from Corrin's cheeks to the ground.
"F... Felicia...?" Corrin waved a hand in front of the Maid's eyes, prompting to shake her head and come back to reality. "Are you... okay?"
"I... I'm so s-sorry, I-I must have... misheard you, my Lady..." she mumbled, "Y-you said... you love me...?"
"Of course I do," Corrin responded, a small laugh escaping her throat, "Felicia, you're the brightest light in my life. I think of you in my darkest times, and it always lights my way." Her hands trailed down to Felicia's own hands, taking them and intertwining their fingers. "I would never send you away... and I don't know what I'd do without you..."
Felicia was still at a loss for words, her cheeks incredibly heated. The emotion was bubbling through her again, she could feel it plain as day and prayed to any god listening that Corrin couldn't see it. She bit her lip, forcing back the tears.
"W-wait, no, d-don't cry, Felicia!" Corrin frantically cried.
"I-I'm s-sorry, Lady C-C-Corrin!" Felicia sobbed. She threw her arms around her liege, her face buried in the crook of Corrin's neck. "I-I don't kn-know what to s-s-s-say!" She felt the silver-haired girl wrap her arms around her in a warm embrace, and she only cried harder. "I-I'm so l-l-lucky t-to b-be able to s-serve y-you! E-even though I-I-I don't d-deserve y-your kindness a-and patience..."
"Of course you deserve it!"Corrin combed her hand through Felicia's ponytail, her fingers hooking harshly on a few tangles. "Sorry, that probably hurt..."
"I-it's ok-o-okay," Felicia sniffled, lifting her head from Corrin's neck. A few sobs escaped her, and she lifted a hand to wipe her tears away. "I-I didn't really f-f-feel it..."She could feel a small smile curling on her lips. "I... I-I want to th-thank you, Lady Corrin..."
Corrin cocked her head to the side. "Thank me...?" she questioned, "What for?"
"F-for everything!" the Maid responded, "Y-your love, your patience, your kindness... everything."
Corrin smile. "Of course, my love..." she said, "I only give back what you offer me. And you've given me the world, even though it might be hard for you to see."
Felicia's cheeks flushed. "M-my Lady..." she whispered, "I-I..." She paused for a moment, then slightly shook her head and looked up again with a brighter smile. "I-I'm so glad I didn't mess this up. I love you..."
"Jakob, I found them!" Silas' cries reached the Butler's ears loud and clear, and he immediately began to run towards the Cavalier's voice. When he was in sight, the grey-haired man motioned to a tree, and Jakob could see he had the slightest of grins on his face. He looked almost cheeky, and the servant was filled with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. It wasn't until after Jakob looked behind the tree that he understood the Cavalier's expression.
His Lady Corrin leaned against the tree trunk, her head resting on top of Felicia's. Their hands were together, fingers sleepily intertwined. Jakob could see that the tear tracks were still prominent on the noble's face, and she could also see that Felicia had been crying hard as well. The man couldn't help but let out a slightly amused sigh; Lady Corrin had most likely confessed her long held feelings, and Jakob believed it was about time.
He motioned to Silas, bending down to scoop Lady Corrin into his arms. "You pick up Felicia. I think if they stay sleeping here they'll both wake up rather uncomfortably."
Silas gave a nod and complied, picking Felicia up. The men proceeded to return to the camp, with the princess and the Maid in tow. The Butler, ahead of the Cavalier, kept his amused air about him; for the third time this week Felicia found herself crying over spilt tea—despite her constant slip ups Jakob doubted that that would ever be unforgivable enough for Lady Corrin to revoke her feelings.
It was a good sort of doubt, and he prayed for the gods to bless that doubt.