Chapter 1

At the very least, it is summer.

Not autumn, winter nor spring. Although winter has its own frigid charm – a season when children sit infront of the fireplace, warm chocolates in their cups as they listen to the endless tales of knighthood adventures to save the princess. Piles of thick clothes – red, green, and yellow – enveloping their small bodies as their cheeks remain plump and red, ready to be kissed good night by their sleepy parents.

But one cannot easily run over the snow during winter.

Then, there is autumn. A season of brown, brown, brown. Mahogany, chestnut, rosewood, oak, the enchanting shade of freckles sprinkled over a porcelain skin, the color of a pair of honey dewed eyes glistening under the cool sun. Townsfolk play over mountains of fallen leaves during a cold autumn afternoon – burying an innocent lad underneath the light weight but will later get resurrected like a beloved king of a forgotten kingdom as the delighted laughter of his people echoes in the wind. Autumn is a season of contentment over the simplest things, the season of nostalgia and childhood games.

But one cannot simply swim in the cold waters during autumn.

Spring is a tricky season. Or one would say, the season of unknown possibilities. Of finally starting a new life, of hopes and bright future. Of wearing the most colorful dresses and shiny shoes on solid pavements. But it's also the time to bid a bittersweet goodbye to the memories made in the tiny corners of an inn during winter. The time to halt sleeping in the day and of beginning to rise again early in the morning to tend the garden. Spring is a season of contradictions. The sun is high up in the sky but the wind is as cold as ice. Snow on the ground had finally melted but people wouldn't let the warmth of their boots go for a while. Yet, it is bright, bright, everywhere is bright.

But one cannot just remove their coat during spring.

So there is summer. Where everything a person sees is just how it is… How it should be. The sun is glaring, it is hot. The wind blows, it is humid. Children run freely on the fields tasting the heat and sweat on their faces. The youth, especially young men, jump over low cliffs to land and swim in warm lakes and rivers. Ladies forego their thick coats and wear their dresses made of lightest materials as they parade their pretty and quirky summer hats. In summer, everything is in plain sight – the furrow between the vendor's eyebrows when a buyer wouldn't agree on his price, the blush on the maiden's cheeks after receiving a flower from her suitor, the optimism of everyone just because it is another good day to do their own chores.

Summer is the season of honesty and boldness.

But this year's summer seems to have forgotten how to be a 'real summer'.

The season officially started last week yet it had been raining since then.

Inside the humble abode of the Britannia household, two pairs of soft purple eyes glance gloomily outside the large windows of the study, a sense of disappointment only those who long to play games possess transpire in their irises.

Someone older, someone wiser clears her throat and catches their attention back to the task at hand.

"And I will repeat, if Mr. Thomas gives the thirteen apples to Mrs. Rebecca, how many apples will be left for him to sell?"

The girl, Nunnally, tilts her head like a bird and looks at their governess curiously. "Why does Mrs. Rebecca need thirteen apples? Does she sell apples, too?"

Without missing a beat, the governess answers, "Perhaps, she plans to share them to her friends and neighbors."

"Oh, oh! She'll give some to her children and then she will keep the rest for their horse."

"Does Mrs. Rebecca own a horse?" This time, the question comes from the seven-year old boy sitting beside his twin sister. "Papa has a lot of horses."

"Can we ride horses today, Miss Ceci?" asks Nunnally. With all of her seven-year old courage, she stares at their beautiful governess with wide pleading and innocent eyes. Miss Ceci is a good lady. She is unlike her friend Anya's governess who always carry a stick and would sometimes hit her friend's hands if she got the answer wrong. Or when Anya forgot to put her doll back to its box, as her friend told her during one of their playdates.

Her Miss Ceci does not scold them when they do not understand the question or the reading especially when it comes to Math. Math! Just thinking about the subject makes her want to take an afternoon nap! Instead, their gentle governess will patiently explain to them each big word that is too difficult for their young minds to understand. Like… Like the word 'menercary'! Or is it 'mecercary'? Now, she couldn't remember but it has to do with soldiers. Why they are learning about soldiers, Nunnally does not know, too but she trusts Miss Ceci's judgment because sometimes, Miss Ceci will make them hot chocolates secretly even though it is not yet the season for hot chocolates. Just thinking about it makes her want to giggle. Chocolate was smeared on their lips and their governess wiped them with a smile on her face. Really, their Miss Ceci is the best governess, and Nunnally and Rolo adore her so much.

Perhaps, she will allow them to hug her again just like last night? After all, they had practiced the polite way of asking her before going to sleep. And Miss Ceci is all warm and soft and smells like her favorite oranges. But first, Nunnally must convince her to allow them to ride horses because summer has been unenjoyable so far. And the ever-kind Miss Ceci will definitely understand the sadness of the seven-year old twins, correct?

But their beloved governess regretfully shakes her head. "The viscount had said that you are not allowed to ride horses until you are ten, doesn't he?"

"But papa is away! He won't know it if we don't tell him!" protests Rolo.

"Your voice, my child," Miss Ceci gently chides.

Embarrassed, Rolo's cheeks turn red as he tries again to reason out in a more polite and courteous manner just like how their governess taught them. "My apologies, ma'am… Uhmmm, can we ride horses today while father is still away? We promise that we will behave and not cause the horses any discomfort."

"We will be careful with the horses," Nunnally adds.

Miss Ceci's eyes flit between them and suddenly all Nunnally could think of is honey. Oh, she suddenly wants to have bread and honey. But her stomach could wait. Horses are the priority at the moment.

"Horses are truly great animals, aren't they?" Miss Ceci pleasantly starts and the twins' hope pleasantly rises as well. "They can pull wagons with heavy loads, run as fast as the wind, and eat lots and lots of hay."

Nunnally raises her hand and waits for the governess' acknowledgment before speaking. "And they have beautiful, soft hair."

"Indeed. But look…."

The twins follow where her forefinger is pointing at and the feeling of disappointment washes over their faces again upon seeing the endless rain.

"But like humans, they can also get sick if they stay under the rain. Now, we don't want them to be weak and unhealthy."

Nunnally and Rolo shake their heads sadly. "No, we don't."

"So how about this? Let us finish all of the lessons while it is still raining and as soon as the sun shows itself again, I'll ask the viscount about horseback riding?"

"You will?! Uhm… Will you truly do that, Miss Ceci?" Rolo asks.

"Yes. But you have to promise that you're going to study diligently for now."

Lifting their hands as if taking an oath, the twins commit, "We promise, Miss Ceci."

They are rewarded with the governess' warm smile that Nunnally always relates to butterflies and sunrise, and she knows that they did well with promising her. After all, Miss Ceci had been the mother figure they had grown up with as far as her young mind could remember. Their real mother died after giving birth to the twins and sometimes, Nunnally wonders how it would be like to have their mama take care of them. Anya's mama is kind and pretty. Marybell's mama is a bit scary especially when she wears heavy make-up. Rolo said he was certain that their real mama would be the most beautiful and kindest because papa is the most handsome and kindest papa in the world.

Then she will be like Miss Ceci? Nunnally had replied. Can Miss Ceci be our second mama?

But Rolo doesn't know. Miss Ceci does not join them in the table to eat, doesn't she? And sometimes, she goes back to her real home to spend some time with her sister. Do mamas leave their children for a few days? He had never seen his playmate Leon without his mother.

For now, they are happy to have Miss Ceci on their side. Her warmth, gentleness, and grace are enough for the twins to feel loved and cherished especially when papa is away. After all, her constant silent presence in the household had been a fixture that no one could imagine to go without and for that simple fact, the twins are always grateful for their father for hiring Miss Ceci.

"That is good," the older woman says. "So I believe, we can now go back to answering this Math problem. Are you done calculating your answers?"

But still, Nunnally does not like Mathematics.

Music is not Rolo's best subject.

He can follow and produce a note or two but his skill is that of a child learning his first alphabet – unsure, clumsy and nervous. No matter how many times Miss Ceci had taught them of the basics of playing the piano, his young mind seems to be having a hard time grasping the lessons and that worries the child to no end. Because papa is very good at playing the piano and Nunnally is beginning to show that she is skillful too. He tried to copy the way her fingers would speak with the keys, the pressure she would carefully put in order to create a sleepy note. But everytime he would take his turn, the piano turns into a monster – growling and screaming unpleasant sounds that almost make Nunnally cry. And Miss Ceci would look at him with sad eyes.

To add more to the child's worries, he accidentally (that's because Miss Ceci told them it is impolite to listen to other people's private conversation, especially when it was occurring between two maids and Rolo was in a place where he shouldn't be) heard about the adoption that Mr. and Mrs. Waldstein did.

So one cold afternoon, when summer hasn't come yet and winter was reigning over the land, he asked Miss Ceci about it during one of their piano lessons.

"Miss Ceci, am I adopted?" he shyly inquired. It was a one-on-one piano lesson, with Nunnally being with their nanny, and Rolo thought it was good for his twin not to hear his problem. Because what if he was truly adopted? Did it mean that Nunnally was not his 'real twin sister'? Just thinking about it made him want to cry.

The relaxing melody permeating the room came to a sudden halt as the governess' finger remained suspended in the air.

He felt her turn towards him. Making himself much smaller than he was, he lifted his shoulders up to his ears readying himself for the answer she would give him.

"Do you know what 'adopted' means?" the governess asked in that voice that always made Rolo feel safe.

He hesitated for a while before finally nodding. "It means that papa and mama is not my true father and mother. My real parents put me inside a basket and left it outside the gate where maybe, one of the helps found me."

"Or perhaps the basket was found floating on the river and it got caught on the net of a kind fisherman who brought it to the viscount."

His brown head quickly whipped to her direction, tears ready to flow down his cheeks. "So it is true? I am adopted, Miss Ceci?"

"Of course not," was the fast response of the governess as she wiped some of the tears that had escaped from his eyes. "I was younger than I am that time. Nineteen to be accurate, when I saw your mama gave birth to you and Nunnally." Miss Ceci briefly looked up and scrunched her nose, an act that she only showed them whenever they feel down, and which always comforted the twins immediately. "Well, not that I actually 'saw', but I waited outside of her room with my own mother as the lady gave birth. And after a few minutes, or was it hours? Milly opened the door and the first thing I saw was you and Nunnally lying on your mother's chest."

"So I'm not adopted?" he asked again, but now with a much lighter and relieved tone in his voice.

"You are not adopted, my child." The governess frowned down at him. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I cannot play the piano well. Papa and Nunnally are good at it. And maybe mama, too. But I am not."

Miss Ceci chuckled good-naturedly and Rolo wondered if their governess eats bells for meals. Redness tinged his ears as he realized how silly and childish his words were. But he was still a child, wasn't he?

"I'll let you in a secret. Do you promise that this will stay just between the two of us?"

Straightening his posture, Rolo put his chest out and swore, "As the gentleman in the house, I promise that I will keep this a secret even to Nunnally."

"Hmmm. Your mama was also not good in playing the piano in the beginning."

"Really?"

The governess nodded. "Her fingers were quite clumsy. They danced to their own rhythm, spilling notes here and there like chatty birds and the piano couldn't keep up with her melody. Can you imagine it? The viscount would sit there," she pointed at the long couch by the window, "all red and nervous as he silently suffered from her private recital, not brave enough to tell her to stop for he was afraid of her anger."

Rolo couldn't help but laugh as he indeed imagined the scenario. He couldn't fathom how their big, strong papa would be reduced to a cowardly man who was afraid of his wife. And being all red and nervous! He could see him as a ripe round tomato sitting on the couch which made him laugh even more.

"Are you feeling well now?" Miss Ceci asked.

It was after a few more moments, a few little melodies played by his governess, that Rolo escaped from the fits of laughter. "I am. Thank you, Miss Ceci. But may I ask another question?"

"Please do so."

Positioning his fingers on top of the keys, he tried producing a note. He flinched at the ungraceful way it echoed inside the Music Room but that didn't discourage him to continue. "Did mama become better?"

The governess put his hands over the right keys, and with her fingers over his, she guided him with the right amount of pressure and care as they pressed the keys together.

The governess looked down at him with a proud smile on her face and the boy couldn't help but feel giddy with excitement. "She did, Rolo, and that is because she didn't give up."

Some days, that eventful afternoon would visit Rolo's mind – when he is busy solving Math problems, learning how to read difficult words, or when he is playing with Nunnally. And everytime he thinks of it, a smile would voluntarily appear between his plump cheeks.

Why are you smiling? Nunnally would ask.

It's a secret, he would always answer which would make his sister all pouty.

But he had made a promised to Miss Ceci back then and gentlemen do not break their promises.

And how could he ever forget about that day when it was the first time his fingers sang harmoniously in tune?

"Are they already asleep?"

The tall blonde girl jumps upon hearing her voice. Turning around, the nanny glares at her. "You scared me, Ceci. Don't creep on my back especially when I am closing the door. What if I accidentally closed it harder than necessary and woke them up? Good grief, as a governess – "

"Hush, you're going to wake them up with your dramatic voice, Milly."

Grabbing Milly's arm with her left hand while her right one holds a lamp, she guides her in the dark corridor until they reach the empty kitchen. There, they sit across each other with only the square oak table separating them.

"Have you already eaten?" asks Milly, breaking the silence of the night.

"I did, as they were eating dinner."

Leaning in, the nanny puts her elbow on the table and rests her chin on her palm. Under the dim moonlight, her purple eyes are almost as soft as the twins but Ceci does not let them trick her for whatever comes out of her friend's mouth is far from soft and more likely to be scandalous. "Aren't you getting lonely, my friend?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well… You've always been treated differently from the rest of the helpers in this household. Being the governess puts you to a state that is well above the maids but quite below the family we are serving, and you are alone in that status."

Ceci chooses to wait for her to finish before deciding to interrupt.

"With that, you were settled to do mundane things alone such as eating. Your room is even situated at the opposite wing, away from the quarters. Who would wake you up when you have nightmares?"

Milly, dear Milly with her genuine but misplaced concerns.

"I am fortunate that I don't have one."

"My point is," Milly ignores her comment, "you are already at the right age… Some would even argue that you are past the right age but you are beautiful, no, I am not praising you for favors so stop looking at me like that. Where am I? Oh, you are beautiful, well-off and intelligent. Most importantly, you are good with children. Don't you think that it is time for you to find a husband and carry children of your own?"

A mask of disbelief shrouds the governess face. "But men do not find intelligent women appealing," she scoffs. "They prefer someone who could take care of their house when they are away, someone who is content to watch over their children as the husband explores the adventures of the world."

"But isn't that what you are doing right now in this household? You are basically the unofficial woman of the house."

A hot blush creeps on her cheeks and Ceci immediately tries to hide it by glowering at her friend. But nothing could escape the sharp eyes of Millicent Ashford, especially when she is able to irk her friend. "I am not the woman of this house, Milly," she emphasizes. "And I didn't bring you here to discuss these things."

For a moment, it seems like the nanny would add more thoughts on the senseless subject and Ceci is ready to leave her in the kitchen if she wouldn't be able to talk to her properly. Fortunately, Milly Ashford releases the sigh that Ceci needed.

"Alright. I'm dropping the subject for now. But I may know a few decent men who might be willing to be your company."

Ceci just waves her off. "I just want to know if everything is already properly arranged."

"Three days, you say?" The blonde taps her chin. "The twins and I will be able to live without you for three days. And with the viscount finally returning from the capital, the children will be quite distracted for a while so spend your vacation without worrying about us."

"Please do not forget their schedule, particularly their reading time. I'm quite worried about Nunnally being forgetful of her consonants."

"Leave it all to me. When you return, Nunnally will be able to recite the entire 'Romeo and Juliet' from cover to cover."

"Now, I am more worried," Ceci says with a carefree smile on her face.

Milly laughs disturbing the quietness of the night again. "I am serious. Enjoy your days with your sister. Have you bought her a gift?"

"I actually made it."

"Ooooh, that's pleasant… The viscount is quite generous, huh? For letting you visit your family whenever you requested. Honestly, it is rather a rare arrangement compared to other households. You must be aware of the gossips flying in the quarters."

Ceci's smile turns tight. It is true that the viscount is a kind and understanding man. Someone who she herself looked up to. Admired even for his love for his family and devotion to his dead wife. And for the years that Ceci had been with the Britannia family, even before she became the governess of the house, never once that she felt she was ostracized for not being their blood relative. For that she is immensely grateful.

But the viscount doesn't understand enough. He isn't kind enough.

For if he was, she wouldn't be sitting in the kitchen and having this conversation in the middle of the night, all the while wondering about what would be the future of her family.

She slightly tilts her head to the side and there it is - the lulling pelting of water against the hard concrete. Almost inaudible, almost inexistent. But there, nonetheless. In the longing eyes of children and youth.

And Ceci sits there, wondering when this summer rain will end.