Weiss was bored. There was no other way of looking at it: her life was boring. You wouldn't think it would be. She was the daughter of Remnant's most powerful CEO and lived in a mansion. She could own everything her heart desired. But all the same, Weiss was bored.

She lay on her bed, a massive king-sized behemoth, and stared at the blue ceiling. She'd left her failed attempts to amuse herself scattered about the room. A violin leaned against her dresser, its bow beside it. She had stacked her window-side table high with a pile of incomplete artworks. Notepads covered her desk, detailing ideas she had no motivation to work on. Her scroll lay on her bedside table, still playing a video she had lost interest in and abandoned.

"Miss Schnee?" Klein's voice came from the corridor, accompanied by two knocks on her door. "Your father has a late-night meeting this evening, and your mother has retired to her chambers. Should I inform the kitchens to prepare you dinner?"

"Please, Klein," Weiss said, without getting up, "Tell them to surprise me."

"Very good, Miss Schnee," he said.

They weren't actually going to surprise her; Weiss knew that. The last chef to surprise a Schnee had been let go without severance. Safe, consistent, refined. That was the Schnee way, according to her father. The chef would likely deliver her swordfish, salad, and a glass of wine. Such was Weiss' 'favourite' meal, according to her father. As a meal, it was safe, consistent, refined. And boring, so so boring. Her actual favourite meal was something she'd only had once. When she was a kid, only a little older than ten, her mother had taken her, Whitley, and Winter out shopping. Afterwards, they stopped at a fast food establishment for lunch.

She'd never been back, partly due to her father's fury upon finding out. And because the place had closed down a few weeks later due to health complaints. So her father had told her mother at the time, his voice so haughty it made her grind her teeth remembering it. So that was that.

Someone knocked on her door again. "Enter," she called.

A butler entered the room, one of the many dozens that seemed to come and go monthly. He wore the same suit all staff did, which Weiss knew was neither comfortable nor practical. She felt a slight pang of guilt at not knowing his name, having once known all of them, but as she'd grown older they'd seemed to leave quicker and quicker. She hoped it was of their own volition; that they'd found better jobs and moved on. They almost certainly hadn't.

He was carrying a plate, covered by a cloche and was looking around. His eyes darted back to Weiss every couple of seconds, and beads of sweat were forming on his forehead.

"Set it down on the table," she said, "on top of the paper is fine."

He looked unhappy at the instruction but did as asked all the same. He lowered the silver plate down onto an almost blank page with such care it didn't even make a noise. "Will there be anything else, ma'am?" He asked.

"No, that will be all."

The butler didn't waste time in leaving, giving her a hasty bow and then almost fleeing her room. She could hardly blame him. Contact with a Schnee was dangerous in the best of circumstances, and the Schnee Manor was very, very far from the best of those.

It felt as if she had to haul herself out of bed. Her bathroom scale told her that she was losing weight, but it was still a titanic effort to move.

After the cloche was removed she took in her dinner: Swordfish, roasted potatoes, and green beans. The chef must have been feeling adventurous, another thing to ensure didn't get back to her father. She'd once said to Winter that she felt as if she could tell their father almost nothing about her life. Winter had given her little sympathy.

It wasn't an interesting meal. She'd go so far as calling it boring. Yes, it was perfect from a technical perspective - the kitchen was cutting no corners - but she had eaten some variation of this meal every day for as long as she could remember. It was safe, consistent, respectable. It was so very Schnee, and Gods, she wanted anything else.

She ate as much as she could be bothered to, and set the rest aside, for a member of the staff to collect it later. Then she returned to her bed. She'd been, not having fun, but at least somewhat entertained staring at the ceiling, and thinking.

Before she could lay there for too long her moroseness was interrupted by her scroll. She almost didn't look, only four people had her number, and out of those she wanted to speak with zero. Yet, a decade of habit kicked in, and she opened it anyway. It was an unexpected message from an unexpected sender.

[Unknown Number]: Hey Yang I think I've broken my ankle can you come pick me up from training

She tried not to wince at the lack of punctuation or grammar and the attached picture of their ankle. It was swollen, and an unhappy shade of red on the verge of turning purple. It did not look broken, she thought. She typed out a quick response message, out of politeness.

I am very sorry. But I am afraid you have got the wrong number.

Weiss looked at the image again and sighed. She didn't have much else to do, she thought.

Also, I don't believe that you've broken your ankle. It is likely only strained. Despite that, I would recommend taking a trip to the accident and emergency ward to be safe.

She put the scroll down again, rolling over. It was late enough, and she felt tired. She pulled the thin covers over her, thin because her father kept her room, and the whole manor, far too warm as it was. After another few moments of staring at her ceiling, she closed her eyes. A deep, dreamless sleep claimed her shortly after. She was almost roused by the scroll buzzing again, but sleep had its hooks deep in her and she didn't respond.

[Break here]

It was almost ten in the morning before Weiss roused herself. She was alert almost at once, and sat up immediately, eyes wide. A glance at the grandfather clock in the corner, a gift from her grandfather, told her the time. She fell back again, suppressing a snort. Her father must still be away on his 'business trip'. He would have sent someone to wake her from breakfast almost two hours ago if he had returned. She wasn't sure who he thought he was fooling with his overnight trips, it wasn't any members of the family. For as long as Weiss could remember he and his assistant would leave on overnight trips. For 'business reasons' he'd claimed. She used to wonder why his assistants changed every year, and why he always hired another young woman. She didn't like to think about the matter now.

Should the day progress as usual, he would return at midday, and she would welcome him back. He would spend the afternoon in his office answering 'follow-up calls'. Weiss suspected he was bragging to all his club-mates. He would then be in such good spirits he'd have the whole family, sans Winter, of course, gather for dinner. If he was that arrogant, or this was some way of further hurting her mother, Weiss didn't know. She didn't care anymore. She had an hour to lounge in bed before making herself presentable, which she intended to make good use of.

She grabbed her scroll off the bedside table and her brow furrowed. First, at the time, her grandfather's grandfather clock was running slow; it would have to be adjusted again. And then at the messages. She had two more from the unknown number from yesterday.

[Unknown Number]: Hi i just wanted to say thank you! I went to the drs like you said and they said it was just a sprain so I'll be back on my feet in about a week

Suppressing the desire to text back a guide on punctuation, she scrolled to the other message. It was a photo, presumably of the unknown number's owner given how she was holding the camera. She was a small girl, a year or two younger than Weiss with red and black hair and brilliant silver eyes. She was leaning on someone out of shot, whose long blonde hair was visible at the edge of the frame. She was attractive, the thought appeared in Weiss's brain unbidden for a moment. Weiss knew the girl was pretty, beauty was an observable trait after all. But attractive? That was subjective. She couldn't be attractive, Weiss didn't even know her.

She prepared a response:

I'm glad to hear that. Although a week seems a bit short of a time for that to heal. The image you sent me seemed quite nasty. Regardless, good luck with your recovery.

It sounded good, formal, and yet empathetic, so she sent it and put the scroll down, looking at her hair. It had been a couple of days since she'd last washed it and it was starting to need it again. At least the shower would be enjoyable.

[Break]

A far more presentable version of Weiss returned to her bedroom almost a full hour later. She'd changed the hoodie and joggers that she had slept in for a simple blue dress. She'd also donned a white jacket with the company logo on the back, a black stylized fractal snowflake. Her father had insisted all her clothes display the family crest.

She perched on the edge of her bed again and glanced at her scroll. It was ten to twelve, and she had no messages, except two from the unknown number.

[Unknown Number]: Thanks! I know a week doesn't seem like much time but I always heal quickly

[Unknown Number]: Anyway I'm Ruby what's your name

The girl's continued neglect of commas was starting to annoy Weiss. Yet, she found herself distracted by the question enough not to care. Or at least she assumed it was a question, without the punctuation, she wasn't sure. Weiss wasn't sure what to do, a somewhat new experience for her. Should she tell the girl, Ruby, her real name? What would she do if she knew she had Weiss Schnee's contact details, would she even believe her? At the same time, lying to her left a bad taste in Weiss's mouth. She decided on giving away her first name only. There had to be many Weisses.

I'm Weiss, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

The response back was almost immediate.

[Unknown Number]: Weiss that's a pretty name!

A small smile graced Weiss's face, she'd heard plenty of compliments in her life. How amazing, pretty, smart, and fit she was. If there was a positive word that existed, some sycophantic old man had called her it to cosy up to her father. Or some arrogant youth had said it to her to get in her pants. Sometimes, it was the other way around, although that happened less now. It was the first in a very long time that she believed was genuine.

Thank you. Ruby is a very lovely name as well. It's certainly a beautiful gemstone to be named after.

Someone knocked on the door and Weiss immediately put her scroll down. "Enter," She said.

Her brother sauntered in, face drawn into its ever-arrogant smile. "Hello, Father sent me to inform you that he has returned. He would like us all to meet him in the dining room for lunch in thirty minutes."

"Is there a reason that one of the staff couldn't have been entrusted with such a difficult task?" She asked, her voice oozing sarcasm.

He smirked, "You haven't left your room in nearly two days. We're worried about you."

Weiss struggled to suppress a snort. "Father cares only about that which impacts his bottom line. Winter is away with the military, overseas, I doubt she knows or cares what I do with my time. Mother is drinking in the garden already, I heard her smash a bottle while I was bathing. So who is this 'we' that is worried about me?"

"Suit yourself," he said, drawing his arms across his chest, "I was simply being polite. Father ordered me to tell you in person, so I did. Half an hour, try not to be late."

The Schnee private dining room was a far smaller chamber than the grand hall they hosted parties in. Despite that, it was still roomy but kept the family in closer confines that Weiss liked. They sat around a spruce table. Her father sat with his back to the windows that haloed him in light, her mother and brother sat to his right and left. Weiss herself sat opposite him.

"As I was saying, the distributors have signed the necessary paperwork. Shipping will begin on the first of next month. Whitley's help in this matter has been," he paused to select a word, "satisfactory. Weiss, you could learn a lot from your brother's contributions to the family."

"Of course father," she said. She doubted she could learn anything from her brother, they'd both gone through the same tutoring. A fact her father was well aware of. His 'instruction' was another jab at her to stop her so-called tantrum. He wanted her to help do his job for him so he could sleep with more interns. Well, Weiss wasn't going to, she'd made that clear when he'd blocked her from attending university.

"Now, next month we're going to have to look into opening new distribution centres as demand…" Weiss zoned out, she'd been dealing with these faux meetings since Winter had left and knew when to nod along. She found herself bored again, but this was a different kind of boredom. It wasn't "I'm surrounded by things to do and have no impetuous do anything" boredom. This was "I want to be doing something entertaining rather than this nonsense" boredom.

Her thoughts kept drifting back to the text message conversation with Ruby. Weiss was of two minds about it, Ruby was nice and that was suspicious. Did she know who Weiss was? Was it some sort of plot? And if it wasn't, was it weird to befriend her? Was it weird to want to?

"Weiss is something the matter." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. She'd let too much of her thoughts show on her face and her father was aware she wasn't paying attention. He was chastising her for letting her mind wander.

"No Father, I was merely concerned about the southern market," she said. Some clerk had forwarded her a sales report last week, either by accident or at her father's request. She'd skim-read it like everything sent to her, it wasn't interesting. "Compared to last quarter sales have dropped almost twenty-five per cent."

"Merely a consequence of a production hiccup," he said, exasperated, before continuing his tirade. She zoned back out, thoughts returning, again, to her bedroom and her scroll.

The only part of Weiss's day she liked was her walks. Even her father agreed that keeping her locked up in the mansion all day was an awful idea. Although his concern was the PR hit the news would bring rather than her health. So she was allowed to come and go from the mansion as she pleased, so long as she didn't go into town or leave the city. Faced with so many restrictions, Weiss had only one real option: walk the mansion grounds.

She felt she could have worse fates. The mansion grounds were by far her favourite part of the estate. They brought back memories of a happier time. Back when she still thought mother and father loved each other, and her.

The grounds were barren in the later months of the year. Without their leaves the trees were dark and wicked-looking things which protruded into the overcast sky, stabbing at the heavens like spears. It looked to her like it might snow, the clouds, swollen and dark grey, blanketed the sky further adding to the dreary atmosphere.

Weiss skirted the edge of the tree line. In autumn she'd had fun kicking up the leaves that had fallen and listening to the noises they made. But the groundskeepers were efficient and within a week the grounds had been cleared of them. Now she trudged over ground that was almost muddy. With every step, the water on the grass seeped into her socks through her shoes.

She knew the path she was taking, it was the same one she took every day. The mansion's grounds were several square kilometres in area, even featuring a small lake. She'd walk the perimeter over the next two hours, like every other day. But first was the tree.

It was the oldest oak on the grounds, predating even her grandfather's ownership of the estate. Through some quirk of nature, it had grown a completely flat knot at eye level and Weiss stopped by every day to see it. On the knot, there were five names carved: Nicholas, Willow, Winter, Weiss, and Whitley. She remembered the day she and Whitley had gone to see it with her grandfather. It had been right before her eighth birthday. They had carved their names into the tree with his knife. He'd had them stand on a chair to reach the knot. He'd held them steady, one hand on their back and the other on the knife as they carved their names. Despite his coughing fits his hands hadn't once wavered. "Children," he'd said, "One day you'll find someone you love. Heh, I know the idea is gross now but you will, and when you do and you settle down with them come back here. Carve their names on this tree with yours. This will be our family tree." She remembered asking him why father's name wasn't on the tree with them and he only scowled in response.

That had been the last time she'd seen him. It had been years later, during one of her mother's drunken rants, that she'd found out why. But that wasn't a memory she liked to dwell on.

Every day when she passed it she stopped to talk for a bit. Sometimes about her day, or about something that she was thinking about, or even about nothing. Her parents never told her where her grandfather was buried. Her mother was always too drunk, and her father wouldn't even entertain the request. So she talked to the tree and pretended she was talking to him.

She reached the tree as she always did, ducking under a low-hanging branch and stepping over a root. The tree was hidden deep in the woods in the north of the grounds. Its seclusion was likely the only reason escaped her father's purge of all traces of her grandfather after his death. All that remained of him was this tree and her clock, which couldn't be moved, and the family.

A stump from a tree that had fallen in a storm was nearby, her seat for the conversation. She remembered gingerly sitting on it the first time she'd ventured out to find the tree again. It had been almost seven years after carving her name. She'd had to get directions from Winter to find it, her search having turned up nothing. Her brother had been no help, he didn't even remember it existed.

The stump was as wet as the grass, but Weiss didn't care; she'd have plenty of time to dry as she walked. "Hello again, grandfather," she began, " I haven't got much to tell you today I'm afraid. Father returned from an overnight business trip having actually conducted some business. I can only assume hell must have frozen over, it's certainly cold enough.

"He's determined to expand our business, but he's neglecting that which he already has. I suppose that's the story of his life really. Yet, I expect the whole structure might collapse under him if he's not careful. It would be quite the show.

"Someone… texted me last night. She'd gotten the number of someone she knew wrong and ended up with me instead. But she seems interested in building a rapport. Her name is Ruby, if the image she sent of herself is accurate, she's only a little younger than I am. She's … interesting. She could certainly use a proper education in grammar, but she is genuine.

"It's nice."

Silence fell as the 'conversation' entered the area Weiss was always unsure what to do with. In a normal conversation, this would be when someone would talk about their day, or what they wanted to discuss. But her grandfather wasn't able to do that, so instead she sat in silence.

"Well Grandfather," She said, after letting ten minutes pass by, "It's been a pleasure talking to you. I look forward to our conversation again tomorrow."

Evening once again found Weiss in her bedroom. Another half-eaten plate of swordfish sat on her table. Tonight she sat at her desk, a notepad open on the first page. She stared blankly at the book, her brain failing to supply her with something to write.

Stubbornly, she forced herself to put pen to paper and scratched out some words. They were nothing, random concepts that flitted by her mind's eye, out of reach.

Putting down her pen, she looked at the results of her work and pursed her lips with dissatisfaction. She had nothing usable, nothing interesting. With a sigh she closed the book, adding it to the pile of notepads that sat on her desk. She'd tidied her room since yesterday. It didn't feel any different.

She returned to her table, pushing the now cold food aside, and chose to stare out over the grounds. She couldn't see anything interesting from her window, the lake and oak tree were out of sight, save for the light. On a clear night, like tonight, if she looked hard she could see the lights of the city in the next valley. It was almost an hour's walk away, still less time than it took to walk the grounds. She would gladly walk out into the night alone now, were she allowed.

She was not. So she settled for the same fantasy as she did every night. One of running away from home, buying a small apartment in the city, and making a life for herself. It was a simple fantasy, but completely impossible.

The local police force was exceptionally good at resisting bribery. Atlas' politicians were equally corrupt however and likely already in her father's pocket. And if she tried to leave she was sure she'd find them placing all manner of obstacles in her path. Winter had needed the sponsorship of the highest military authority in the kingdom to escape. Even then it had almost turned into a protracted court case.

She would have been content to fantasise all evening about another life, had her scroll not gone off again.

[Ruby]: Thanks! My mom chose it she liked the colour red I'mma go to bed now goodnight!

She found herself smiling as she responded. It had been possibly years since someone wished her goodnight. She was almost surprised at how much brighter it made her feel.

Thank you, goodnight.

After replying she stood and moved back to her bed. Just like last night, it was late enough that she could go to sleep. Sleep wasn't exactly a positive experience for her, but then it wasn't a negative experience either. Sleep just wasn't an experience. Weiss didn't dream anymore, she hadn't since she was a child. So all sleeping accomplished was skipping time. Skipping time was something she was happy to do, however. Hopefully, tomorrow would bring change. Weiss didn't hold out much hope, but she clung to what little remained all the same.

AN: And story three begins. This one took a little bit more workshopping to come to fruition compared to the other two, mostly because this is my newest idea. I've been working on the other two stories for far longer (In the case of Rose By Any Other Bloom, since 2018 which makes me feel old.). This workshopping was part of the reason I've been on hiatus for a little while. But I'm happy to say I'm back now, I'm getting used to working in writing around my job and I'll be sticking to the schedule from now on. So if you're a regular reader of mine, I'm happy to say a new chapter of Rose By Any other Bloom will be released on the 20th, and that a new chapter of Amongst RWBY Red Stars will be released on the 30th. If you're only here for the White Rose, that's cool too, another chapter of Wrong Number will come out on the 10th of August. Until then, GLHF!