CHAPTER 2: THE RAINDROPS FALLING ALONG HER CHEEKS

Raffina gazed outside her bedroom window, where everyone seemed to fall at the feet of a young lady carrying the blood of the esteemed House Hallieu, and once again she then turned her view to the flower growing in a small clay pot on her nightstand.

Childhood promises were meaningless now, but she never forgot about it. That's why the moonflower kept growing by her side, even after all these years; she couldn't forget about him. Even if he was an immature brat who needed a swift talking-to–or something more her style, a magical beatdown–Lady Raffina never forgets her promises or goes back on her word, the good and the bad. Unlike some people she knew, she strived to be honorable in all and every way possible. After all, she was most fit to succeed House Hallieu as the Duchess someday; and once she was, everyone and everything would be at her beck and call. What a wonderful dream!

"Someday" being practically never, because of her two elder sisters. Nina would be Duchess of Hallieu before Raffina would ever imagine herself in that position. It should've been Raina, but it wasn't because she was… a special case.

If the chance ever arrived, Raffina would make sure to prepare far in advance for that day, her day, especially knowing about those… schemes she'd heard about.

Currently, that dream was far out of her reach.

Stupid Nina, and even stupider Raina! Why did she have to be the youngest out of the three of them!?

A knocking at the neatly painted sienna of a wooden door shook her from her slump as she hastily attempted to neaten her slightly-messy pink hair, from her scalp to the curls where they ended. A familiar, small figure dressed in white and pink frills stepped in with a skip in her step, holding a plate where a teacup and some small pastries sat upon.

"Evening tea, Ra- I mean, Lady Raffina. It's your favorite, chamomile with madeleines on the side!"

Amitie gently set down the tea set on Raffina's nightstand, between her clock and where her flower bloomed timidly under the moonlight. "Enjoy! I worked super duper hard to steep it just right," the energetic maidservant shouted, expectant eyes falling upon her mistress sipping the tea. "So? So? How's it taste? Better, right?"

"It's still subpar, but you're getting better," Raffina commented, placing down the half-full teacup back onto the set. "It tastes better compared to how you make stronger teas… Either way, I've noticed you steep your teas for very long periods of time, which makes them taste bitter after a while. I suggest you not do that in the future, although considering you that advice goes in one ear and out the other." She narrowed her eyes at the distracted Amitie, staring at the rolling black clouds from far beyond the horizon and over the kingdom.

The maid opened a window, fixated on something the distance–Raffina, also intrigued as to what could possibly be more interesting than taking actual advice from her, stepped toward the window with her–and reached out a hand, holding it out for the wind for a solid moment before taking it back to her side and closing the latticed glass window. "It's gonna rain," she finally whispered to herself, turning to her side and jumping. "Eep! Raffina! I totally forgot I was here to serve you tea!"

The noblewoman sighed and folded her arms tightly. "You already have, but no matter," she declared, ice blue eyes looking down on the shorter girl, bent into a sharp glare. "Had I not been merciful–and had I any power in this family, at all–I would have dismissed you immediately, along with your crass mannerisms and way of speaking."

"You're such a meanie, Raffina!" Amitie cried, looking almost terrified, and giggled happily. "But I guess that's what makes you…. you, Raffina! Always so critical and demanding, but you work hard and expect the best out of all of us! It's kinda inspiring, in a weird way!"

Raffina backed off and gave an offended gasp before her disposition turned upwards. "How dare you! I mean, I am inspiring. But being critical is the only way to get better, wouldn't you agree? When you see all the faults, you know exactly what to fix. Such is my modus operandi, ohohohoho!" Out of her lips, half-covered by her slender hands, came that queenly laugh that everyone had heard at least five times in their lives. In the end, it really was a compliment; Amitie was clumsy, and awkward, and did not act nobly in the slightest, but at the very least she saw the best kind of person in everyone, which was an enviable trait.

"Moving on, you did hear what I said about your tea, yes? You steep it so long, it tastes bitter. But you're getting better," the wishful, wannabe heiress continued. Amitie's eyes sparkled a bright shade of lime and she fist-pumped to herself. "Goody-goody! I was hoping that I was getting better! Hehe," she said between giggles, quite obviously proud of her improvement. "Aah, today was such a good day! I got to meet so many people, spend time with all my friends, and make so many plans to hang out! I'm so, soooo happy!"

Raffina raised a thin eyebrow. "I have a feeling as to what you're doing," she muttered and relaxed herself on the fluffy white sheets of her bed. "You're planning to sneak people into Rulue's party tomorrow evening, am I right?"

Amitie jumped at that statement with a squeak, and slowly turned her head to meet the lady's observant gaze. "H-How did you-? I- No! I'm absolutely not! There's nothing to hide! I'm definitely not sneaking Arle and Ringo to the princess' party! Nothing to see here!"

The pink-haired princess sighed, putting a hand to her head in disappointment. "So that's what you needed all those dresses for. I see, I see," she mumbled, shadows across her eyes darkening enough to make Amitie shiver in place. Raffine then flipped her bangs to the side nonchalantly and faintly smiled. "Well, I don't know anything about this Ringo girl, but having Arle there would make things more… lively, I suppose. As long as they are refined enough, especially you, I don't mind them attending. Rulue might not, but I do not care, at all."

Her eyes wandered off into space, tuning out whatever happy shrieking Amitie was spewing out as a response, as they finally focused on the moonflower growing in its little pot. Aside from Arle and whoever Ringo was, most of the nobility would attend, right? Raina would definitely attend and then disappear into the void again; Nina probably wouldn't–why would Nina ever be expected to attend a party, even if hosted by the princess herself? and Raffina, of course, would go. Why wouldn't she? Princess Rulue was literally her best friend.

He would probably attend… Although, in hindsight of that thought, he didn't seem like the type very fond of parties, or social gathering, or even being social unless he was at the center of attention–which he was not.

"...affi…"

Did he keep the flower she gave him, too?

"Raffina?"

"Aaah!" Raffina screamed, tears forming at the edges of her eyes, and then took a deep breath. "My apologies, Amitie. I was zoning out, and I didn't notice you speaking… hmm?" Upon closer inspection, a messily-tied-together bundle of blue flowers that were not there before–or it was, and she had failed to notice it–had been placed at the side of Amitie's red hat with eyes. Raffina had no clue why her fashion sense was as disastrous as it was, but the flowers in her hair mitigated it, even just a little. She picked the bundle out of her hair–the stems had been ripped slightly, whoever tied these together was not very good at it–and stared at them. "Hydrangeas," she muttered, before handing them back to Amitie with a quizzical expression. "They grow in the meadows on the outskirts of town, but they're very difficult to find. Where did you get these? Perhaps from the florist's daughter?"

"You mean Lidelle? Nah, I'm pretty sure she's always been a servant in House Salwin, although I don't remember quite clearly," Amitie responded, her eyes seeming to be swallowed in the blue reflection of her flowers. "But no, she didn't give me these flowers." Amitie smiled serenely, a faint salmon pink forming at the ends of her cheeks, and she giggled.

"Actually, a total stranger gave them to me. I can't really describe how it feels… Hehe."

"You know you don't have to work overtime, right? If you're tired, you can always take a rest."

The warlock in viridian chuckled nervously, out of concern for the young maid–or housekeeper, as she liked to call her profession–fervently sweeping every corner of the Circe Cafe, from its polished stone walls to the burnt umber of the wooden floor. "I'm glad you're worried, Mr. Lemres, but I won't stop until every nook and cranny of this fine establishment is squeaky-clean," Kikimora responded, dipping her mop into the metal bucket of water next to her and giving it another slosh on the ground. "You know how it gets, sir. People flock here for your sweets, and more recently so because of that Ecolo child… Is he popular? I've never seen him before a couple of weeks ago."

"Just Lemres is fine, Kikimora," the patissier replied with a smile and eyes that never opened for anyone. He put his hand to his chin, deep in thought as the blonde maid stared back, expecting a response. "Actually, it's because no one's seen him before that people have been coming here more recently. To most people, royal or commoner, nothing interesting happens in this kingdom. That's why when something or someone new shows up, it's the talk of the town for weeks. I heard it's the same case for a strange young lady who arrived here just days ago… A case so bad, apparently, that I heard her brother has already had enough of the locals." He chuckled lightly and turned back to face Kikimora, and then the exterior of his cafe, looking out at all the passersby through the windows.

Kikimora jumped, dropping her mop and nearly letting its long wooden handle clatter on the clean ground before she caught it, breathing a sigh of relief. "Phew… if the handle made an imprint on the ground, that would've been pretty bad," she muttered to herself and focused her body again on her work. "A strange young lady, you say? You're not mistaking her for Ally, right? Either w-"

"No, no, not Ally," Lemres replied, resting his head and arms against the glass blocking customers from taking free samples of cake. "It was… a little blonde girl dressed head to toe in black, purple and red, and her much taller, black-haired brother. I didn't catch news of their names, and I don't believe they're related, but I've heard they make quite the first impression."

"Well, you do run the legendary Circe Cafe. I was about to ask where you got all this information, but I guess at a place like this, there are always five or ten gossiping nobles." Kikimora giggled loudly, drawing strange looks from the people walking by the cafe in the light rain outside. She stood in place and wiped the sweat from her brow, admiring her handiwork. "Clean and sharp as a pin! It took me a while to finish, but everything is right and ready!"

Lemres walked towards the housekeeper, coming from behind the counter and he reached his hand out to her, iced sugar cookies wrapped in a small translucent bag sitting neatly in his palm. "Here's a reward for working so hard," her boss offered, which she accepted reluctantly, to her own surprise. "My treat! I'll have to remember you worked overtime."

Kikimora held a strong thumbs-up in his direction, slowly chewing the sugar cookies. "Of course! I always make sure it's all clean! Plus, whenever you're working, idle chatter is a great way to pass time, so overtime is no real problem for me," she commented, pouring away the dirtied water in her bucket and bringing her mop to her side with her non-cookie-holding hand. "Stuff's been happening more recently nowadays, too… People I've never seen before keep popping up lately. First, it was that Ecolo guy, then that redheaded girl you guys found outside a few days ago, and now it's those strange siblings. It's weird… but you know, it makes for a great conversation topic!"

Lemres sighed, walking over to the maid and picking up her metal bucket to leave at the cafe's doorstep. "About that… Ecolo said that girl we found unconscious on the street was named Ringo," he murmured quietly, barely audible enough so that only he and his employee could hear him. "It's a familiar name, but I'm not sure from where… Strangest thing is that the next day she came in and ordered four cakes. Four, for herself! Though, I'm glad she's interested in having sweets as well." Lemres tried to recall the kind of cake she ordered—hazelnut cake with a vanilla roll cake for herself, was it? Something along those lines.

"Well, it probably means your sweets make her happy!" Kikimora replied, beaming. "That's great! Or, she came bearing gifts for that party—which must mean she's really rich. Undercover nobility isn't uncommon, after all." Though, it didn't quite make any sense; if no one had heard of this girl before, how could she be a part of the nobility? Surely someone's talked of her before, right?

"Oh, right, that party! Rulue said that she wanted the best of the best desserts, so I've taken it upon myself to bake some sweeeet sweets!" the warlock cheerily cried out, before putting his hand to his chin. "Or, y'know, I could always create some sweets from thin air! Only if I'm running short on time, though. I would not like to do that. Sweets are always best when handmade!"

"Why wouldn't you want to make desserts out of thin air?" Kikimora asked, tilting her head to the side, baby blue eyes looking back and forth from Lemres to the cakes on display in confusion. "Had I the ability to clean everything in a snap, I would! Cleanliness is the most important thing to me, after all!"

Lemres merely smiled, and let loose a kind laugh. "Ahaha! That's true, that's true, but let's put it this way. What love, effort, and work is there in creating candies from nothing? Working provides meaning to living, especially when it makes you and others happy," he responded wholeheartedly, and pointed to Kikimora's mop, and then to the sparkle-shine of the cafe's main room. "You clean and clean by yourself, it's tiring work without much to gain! But wouldn't you say it makes you happy at the end of the day, seeing that you made everything so clean?"

Kikimora paused, staring down at the brush of the mop in her hands, to the dirtied water overflowing from the bucket sitting outside in the pouring rain, and around the cafe. "I… I'd never have thought you'd tell me this kind of thing, Lemres," she admitted shyly, and then gave herself a sudden boost of confidence. "I always thought maybe I'd be the one telling you that! But you know, you're right! I've got lots of cleaning to do and it makes me happy! If you love what you do, you'll never work a day in your life; that's how the saying goes, right?"

The patissier behind the counter gave a hearty laugh, and pat the maid on the shoulder. "Well said, Kikimora!" he replied. "That being said, actually, you should wrap up for today. Tomorrow, I and Gogotte will be up in arms making sweets for Rulue—currently, I'm teaching him how to improve the appearance of his creations—so consider tomorrow your day off. You deserve it."

"I'll probably consider that for a few hours, and come back to the cafe to clean up whatever mess is left behind," Kikimora joked, stepping outside with the mage in green to be met with rain crashing down on the stone-studded street, the only thing keeping them both dry the fabric of the storefront above their heads. "Or, if I may, I'll probably clean up around the royal household after I've finished that… I've done so before! The princess is a little moody, but she appreciates my work!" She flexed a muscle and stared up at the pouring rain. Lemres did the same.

Excitement, joy, that sparkling, heart-pounding sensation…

Those were the usual things people from all walks of life in Eria had when thinking about attending one of Princess Rulue's parties.

And yet-

On a day just like this, the blackness of that pit swirled and bubbled, fear reaching into his throat and limbs until what was previously the stuff of the subconscious formed a mess of a rabid, screeching creature.

Lemres felt a bitter twinge of worry at the pit of his stomach.

"How does it feel to be the twin that is actually liked, dearest sister of mine?"

A sharp, sarcastic voice identical to hers came from the common room of their small home for two. The girl who sat on a wooden stool a few meters away from her looked up to see a face identical to hers and went back to painting on her sand-stained paper. Silvana, once again, was drawing something abstract with pigments from the fields on the outskirts of town–mostly greens, reds, and blues lined her paper, with unpainted whites–and paying no heed to the girl she had called her "dearest sister".

"Silv, it's not as bad as you think," Arle argued with a sigh; really, on days like these when Silvana was painting, you knew she had a less-than-good day. "People like you! Amitie likes you, and so does Ally, and Ringo probably, and Lemres!"

"You just named three people with zero enemies, and one no one has heard of until a few weeks ago," her doppelgänger countered as she set down her makeshift canvas, easel, and paints to get up and stretch. "So, how'd your scheming go with Amitie and Ringo? Good? Bad? Watch as the princess has a fit finding out commoners made their way into her party."

Arle nervously laughed, and pat her twin on the back so hard it felt like a slap; it was audible, and Silvana's figure nearly toppled onto the wooden table and all her artist's supplies. "You're so funny, Silv! I mean, it's not TOO far from the truth, but for some reason, she tolerates my existence… not sure about Ringo, though." The mage in blue stopped talking, the image of the apple-carrying girl's strange nervousness from earlier flashing in the back of her mind. "I don't think Rulue would be fond of her, but that's why we sneak in–not show up like it's your average day–and get a good glimpse of the starry lives of nobles!"

Silvana scoffed playfully and turned around to enter the next room. "I mean, if you don't get kicked out," she remarked, stopping at a table to draw a knife and some fruit. "Anything you want? If not, you're getting some of this weird-looking fruit." She picked up a whole part no larger than her thumb, and set it back down to cut, where Arle looked at her twin with utter disgust.

Their kitchen, where the two of them were preparing snacks—or whatever Silvana was doing—was just as plain and unassuming as their common room: uneven wooden walls where some were scrubbed clean of all grime and some growing lichen; stone floor that was not particularly comfy or bumpy; wooden furniture with no polish. It was no surprise that the sisters had made numerous dents in their table.

"Are you- Are you cutting berries with a knife used for preparing MEAT?" Arle's gold eyes widened in horror as they darted from Silvana neatly chopping singular berries the size of her thumbnail with a comically large, rectangular butcher's knife to the massive pile of uncut berries to her side, the distance between the blade and her fingers getting closer with each chop. "I- Why do you need so many, anyway!?"

"You mean you don't cut your berries before eating them?" her sister responded in genuine confusion, raising a thin eyebrow. "I'm preparing them because I'm going to share them with you and Carbuncle. You know how much he likes to eat." Arle's mouth formed the shape of an understanding "ohhhhh" as she turned to the asleep, yellow, rabbit-like creature lying on her bed.

It's almost been 24 hours, that was strange…

"He hasn't woken up yet? We must've had quite the adventure yesterday," Arle mumbled, walking towards her very plain bed in the common room to sit down on it and pet her sleeping companion. "I hope he wakes up before tomorrow. I'd really like it if he joined Amitie, Ringo, and me on our newest adventure." She giggled happily in the somewhat-silence of crickets chirping and the other mage dividing her fruit into wooden bowls.

Silvana picked up one large and normal-sized bowl each, both nearly completely full with the blackish-blue berries, and walked over to Arle and Carbuncle's side, setting the larger one down. "The way you phrased that makes it sound like you want to overexert him," she replied in a non-serious tone. "Well, whatever. If he wakes up, make sure you keep him on a leash. Oh, and remind him of the free food I lovingly prepared. If there's any left over, who knows, you could use it to decorate your cake offering." She pointed to the bowl teeming with food for Carbuncle and popped a cut berry from her own bowl into her mouth rather nonchalantly.

"So I have to get my own bowl, I assume? You're cruel, Silv," Arle joked, getting up and removing the white ribbon that tied her hair into a neat ponytail before walking forth to get her bowl of fruit and back to sit down again. She slowly put half a berry in her mouth and nearly gagged from how sweet it was–where in the entirety of the three kingdoms did she find these? "I really don't think we can use these berries on our cake. Ringo got hazelnut cake, which honestly doesn't taste great with berry, especially ones this sweet," she commented and poked Carbuncle gently, who rolled around with drool dripping from the side of his mouth. "Although, maybe if I ask Lemres, he might be able to do something about it."

Silvana this time raised both eyebrows and scoffed quietly to herself. "Lemres? The guy with the large hat who runs the Circe Cafe? THAT Lemres?" she kept asking, overloading Arle's brain with the same question over and over again. "I never said you had to. I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't hate him, nor do I doubt his baking skill. But I've heard some pretty sour things about that guy, like how he summoned a demon in his youth that ran rogue, and that he cheated Rulue–Rulue, of all people!–into buying fool's gold."

"Those both sound equally unbelievable and I don't believe them one bit," Arle argued back, thinking about those rumors. "Lemres wouldn't do either of those things, he's a comet warlock. A mage of the light– You're not talking about Maguro, right? Because apparently, he's known 'round these parts as 'the boy who swindled the princess'. Amitie says he's got a bad rep amongst the nobility, but Ringo says the complete opposite of, well, everyone else."

The apprentice magician looked around and the eyesight blurred outside the complete darkness outside the window barely illuminated by candlelight. It was impossible to tell time outside of the clock tower in town square; commoners, including the Nadja twins, had no clocks and no access to them, so going to bed and waking up was a matter of instinct.

"It's already pretty late. We should get a little shut-eye, and then we can decide on what to do about that party-crashing plan, okay? Nighty-night, Silvana!" Arle suggested, moving her body under multiple thin sheets over the hard mattress–if you could even call it a mattress, it was just a tight, wide bundle of hay wrapped in a spare sheet–and sighing comfortably. To Arle, at least, it was comfortable, because she had never had the luxury of having anything more. "You mean you will decide. Leave me out of your royal invasion; I would prefer not to risk a beheading," Silvana countered, sliding herself into bed next to Arle, with Carbuncle snugly sandwiched between them. "I still wonder why we share the bed and why one of us can't just sleep on the floor, but it's not like we can do anything about it. There's only so much in the budget for our quality of life, and we gotta make the most of it." Crimson irises eyed the floor, colored a cold grey, and shivered on instinct. She lifted her head to blow out the candle on the wooden table, hot wax spilling over its holder and dripping to the ground below.

"Night, Arle."

As her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep, staring into the darkness of her eyelids, she imagined the slicing of something and the distinct scent of flowers in the rain…