"A call from your mother, Amelia-hime."
"Hello?"
"Oh, my dear Amelia, it's simply been too long! How are classes at Ouran going? George reported that you stayed after school for a club, but he didn't say which. I do hope you're making us proud, sweetheart"
Of course George told you, Amelia thought bitterly. Most of what you know about me comes from your head of security. I would've told you if you called more than once a week.
But of course, she was a Princess (with a capital P), and Princesses never spoke what they thought. Beauty, poise, grace. She put on her patented "excited, innocent daughter" voice, developed and refined after years of phone calls.
"Yes mother, it was a wonderful introduction to Japanese culture! I learned so much more about how and when to use certain honorifics, as well as the typical social structure within a Japanese platonic relationship."
I miss you. I wish I could see you. Why can I never come home?
"That's wonderful! And I know it's only been two days, but I trust you've been studying hard? You did start a month and a half late after all, I'm sure there's so much make up work to do. And how is your Japanese…"
Her mother chattered on for another ten minutes, barely letting her get a word in edgewise, before hanging up abruptly with a breathless, "Sorry, darling, something's come up! Mummy's got to run." Amelia checked the time, a tired, wry smile on her lips - twelve minutes exactly. That fits with the average call length, she mused. And she never caught on that I didn't actually mention what the club did. Amelia wasn't sure whether or not to be upset with that fact. Clearly, Sarah Ferguson hadn't grown up among royalty - or politicians.
She handed the phone back to the maid, thanking her.
"Is there anything else?"
"Oh, yes, Amelia-hime, these came in the mail this morning," she replied, procuring a stack of fancy-looking letters from an apron pocket.
"Thank you," Amelia said, blinking at the sheer quantity of mail. Most of it was probably junk mail, she guessed. She sat down at the living room table, reclining back slightly on her leather sofa and opening the topmost letter, enjoying how creamy and smooth it felt.
Dear Princess Amelia, it began in English, you and a partner are most cordially invited to the annual fundraiser held by Mr & Mrs Kabe in honor of the anniversary of their charity, which this year provided assistance to...
"A charity function?"
Then, her eyes fell on the beginning.
"A partner?!" She cried. Fear had flooded her bones, a sudden, chilling creature grabbing her from behind. "I mean… a partner, gosh." Amelia coughed, looking around self-consciously to see if anyone noticed her unladylike shriek. The room was empty.
She let out a sigh of relief, before returning to the problem at hand. She'd only been at Ouran for two days, so she didn't know anyone well enough to ask them to this kind of thing. The invitation said "partner," which didn't necessarily mean "date." Could she take a friend? Who could she possible take?
Could she go… alone? The thought wasn't particularly daunting - she'd spent much of her life alone after all. However, it might be a good opportunity to further develop her public image. If she showed up with someone who made her seem compassionate, or improved her image… But could she use someone like that?
No, no, she reassured herself. I wouldn't be using him. I'd just spend the evening with someone I like to talk to. If my image just happens to improve, then that'll just be a happy event, right? Right.
Despite that, she hesitated, her hand over her phone. It'd be around 8am in London. That's fine, right? His school doesn't start til 9. It was a long shot, but…
"Hello?" His voice was husky with sleep. For some reason, Amelia felt a shiver go down her spine. She had to swallow hard before speaking. This is so much nicer than calling my mom.
"Arthur? It's me, Amelia."
"Amy? Jesus Christ, do you have any idea what the time is?"
"I'm sorry! It's just that I got an invitation for a charity function and it says I need to bring a partner so I was wondering if you could…?" She trailed off hopefully and heard him sigh, could practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Amy."
"Yes?"
"Is this function in Japan?"
"Yes."
Arthur made another exasperated sound from the other end. "I'm on the other side of the world, Amy."
"I-I don't know who else to ask! I'm sorry!" I haven't stammered in years.
"I… Okay, how about this. If you can't find a date by the end of next week, I'll see what I can do." Sensing she had just breathed a breath of relief, he added, "But you need to try, okay? I'm not doing this for every fancy thing you have to go to!"
Amelia beamed. "Thank you so much, Arthur! I'll try for sure! I knew I could count on you!"
He sighed again, and she was suddenly guilty about interrupting his sleep. "I'm sorry, are you busy right now?" She heard some noises on the other end as he readjusted himself.
"I'm never too busy for you, Amy," he said quietly, and oh, how she had missed that voice. "I just missed you."
"I missed you too, Arthur."
"Now that I'm up, mind regaling me with the latest adventures in the exciting life of Amelia Windsor?"
She settled back on the couch, getting comfortable. "You won't believe the amount of work we have to do. Japanese history, for one! History's always a bit of a messy course, since it changes depending on the country, but Japan's so much older than Canada plus it's a mandatory subject! I just don't have the background knowledge I need to make my assignments really thorough, and I've already missed ever so much work…"
They talked for half an hour, with Arthur doing his best to make her laugh ("you need to laugh more, Amy. It's good for the soul") before he left for school.
Talking about the past few days made Amelia realize how dreadfully behind on everything she was. She had at least two assessments in every course to catch up on, and the teachers wouldn't give her an extension indefinitely.
Slowly, she made her way to her study, sitting down with all the cheer of a funeral-goer. Pulling out her laptop, there was a heavy, resigned feeling in her stomach as she gazed at the list of work she had to do. She spared a look at the clock, noticing that it was only 5pm. Surely she could at least get 2 assignments done before bed, right?
Oh no, oh no, oh no…
Amelia burst into the classroom three seconds before the bell rang, collected herself, and tried to pretend that she wasn't hurrying to her chair.
"Busy night?" Haru asked, before remembering how shy he was and blushing.
Amelia smiled slightly, really not in the mood. Her shoulders were hunched over slightly with tiredness. "I was just up late." Who knew the Canadian curriculum would be so much behind the Japanese? And that linear algebra would be so absolutely awful?
She straightened up as the lecture began. Get a hold of yourself, Windsor. You're a princess. Act like one.
Throughout all of mathematics, she kept her head down and mouth shut, speaking only when spoken to. The many etiquette classes she'd taken were running through her head, to the point where she could barely focus on what they were learning. Of course, that might also be partially attributed to the fact that she was so tired she was afraid she'd fall over. All her attention was on making the neatest, most beautiful notes she could - so when first period finally ended and the art teacher came in, she breathed a sigh of relief.
The sigh soon died a swift and horrible death however, as the teacher began ushering them into a different room. With a feeling of dread bubbling up in her stomach, she observed the neat array of easels before her. Amelia positively hated painting; in fact, she harbored a deep resentment for all arts in general, film and television most of all. Her mother, Sarah Ferguson, was a producer, and Amelia's school-trotting was entirely her fault. Perhaps, she allowed, this all-encompassing fear and anger was a bit irrational. Misplaced, maybe? But Amelia figured there was no harm in it as long as she kept it well-concealed, as with most of her other true emotions.
"Why do you look so upset, Windsor-hime?" Tamaki asked, looking concerned. For the first time since she'd met him, he wasn't acting like a hyperactive idiot. It was equal parts refreshing and concerning. Nonetheless, whatever answer Amelia would've given was drowned out by the teacher.
"Now, I want to give you all freedom on this project." She laughed to herself. "That's why I want you to paint your best representation of freedom! You have today and tomorrow to paint, and on the day after tomorrow I want you all to give a presentation on why you painted what you did." She laughed again at her pun.
Freedom?
Amelia jotted the word down in her notebook, getting ready for some good old-fashioned brainstorming.
What's the first thing that comes to mind when I think of freedom?
Wings? Most people think of birds and angels, their outstretched wings carrying them away from earthly worries. But flying away and avoiding a problem isn't freedom, just a different type of slavery. No matter where you were, your problems followed you. Open field? Again, problematic. You were still held down. Chains. That was a classic one, really, but too many chains or a lack of?
Amelia paused.
What if the key to freedom wasn't preventing things from holding you down? What were the different types of freedoms? Freedom of speech, freedom of expression… Was there a freedom of choice?
Oh. Oh.
The vision came all at once, in a swirl of black and white and some muted, indistinguishable color. Amelia scrambled to move her pencil from notebook to canvas, and sketched out a rough outline of what she wanted to paint. Maybe red - no, blue? Purple? She squeezed out a bit of lilac and dabbed at it with her paintbrush, swirled in a hint of robin's egg blue… but it still didn't look quite right. She found herself charmed by the effect of the half-purple, half-blue combination. It was both robin's egg and lilac along with a spectrum of all the colors in between, each a delicate streak within the paint.
"Windsor-hime." Her concentration was shattered by Kyouya's voice. "It's time for lunch. Won't you sit with us? It'll be an excellent opportunity to see Japanese culture from a male perspective, since Hayashi-san's been monopolizing you these past few days."
Well, she didn't really have anything to say in response to that, although she did have a niggling feeling that Kyouya might try to get back at her for the day before. Presented with a lack of arguments, she had no choice but to graciously agree, a trickle of fear already creeping up her spine.
A/N: And a new player appears. Who're you cheering for: Mori, Kyouya, or Arthur?
Also, it is Kyouya or Kyoya? I've seen it spelled both ways in the manga and anime :/