"A long time ago I promised to save you from yourself if you couldn't do it…

-annamalities, (The Twelve Kingdoms)

le pauvre, la princesse et la sorcière

"Good morning to me," the girl said humorously, lifting the warm cup of tea to her lips. Tasting the sweetness of the milk that blended well with the bitterness of the boiled herbs, her lips stretched into a smile. She never liked bitter things, not at all, but tea was a different subject. "You have a nice tea today, Miriam," she commented bringing the tea back to its cup, the ceramics clinked softly upon the contact.

The older female at the opposite side of the flat made some noise to shrug off the compliment that she rarely received from her friend. With her back facing the guest, she busied herself washing the most presentable plate she had in her cupboard. Her name was Miriam Pendragon, blond and blunt. The two ladies met in work; Miriam was already a regular office staff when the other joined the team two years ago.

"I only have cookies here," the blond said, rinsing the glass plate with water. She moved to the side and wiped the plate dry, and then turned to face her friend seated on the couch comfortably. The sunlight streaming through the windows poured gracefully on the girl, her teal hair seemed to glow white. "Michaela, are cookies fine for you?"

The girl on the couch turned to Miriam's direction, her face adorned with a small sarcastic smile Miriam almost missed. Besides the sarcastic smile the blond missed, she also failed to see how Miku cringed. The sunlight made her skin look paler, too. For some reason the girl looked so ghostly. "Whatever you have in store would be fine, Miriam. By the way, stop calling me Michaela, my name is Miku."

"Sure," Miriam went to the cupboard and brought out a jar of cookies. She poured some on the plate and jogged straight to where her friend was, putting it down on the center table where the teapot lay. "But that's a nice name, lass. Didn't you say you keep hearing that name in your dream?"

"Didn't say 'twas me," Miku rolled her eyes, crouching down to pick up her cup. The two of them remained quiet right afterwards; both enjoyed their tea in their own little ways. Miku brought up her tea again to inhale the relaxing scent of her drink. Nothing was more relaxing than savoring the aroma. The bitterness. "I bet you already know why I am here, Mir?"

"Yep," answered the blond. "It's the dream again, of course. What did it show this time?"

The teal-haired girl just gave a quiet smile before savoring the tea once more. It felt weird to talk about her dreams since the recent one wasn't that pleasant. Ever since her twentieth birthday, Miku began to see eerie dreams that showed herself dressed in a fashion long abandoned—tunics, corsets and long loose dresses. There were people, who chattered oddly phrased words, surrounding her, men wooing her and women flattering her. Miku felt like she was attending a party hosted in some medieval palace, judging from the tapestry and furniture she passed by. Everyone looked so ecstatic to have her around, but she felt the otherwise.

The next thing she knew was that someone's hand pulled her away from the small gathering. No one noticed her absence though, and for some reason she thought it was fun to run away. They scurried through one corridor to another, sometimes stopping to hide from some passersby. Albeit running out of breath, she managed to laugh as they escaped the people. Soon, Miku was standing on the balcony and the moon served as her candlelight. She liked how the evening breeze enveloped her, but she probably liked it more when the mysterious person held her in his embrace instead.

The first dream she had on her twentieth birthday ended that way. Miku woke up with a start, hair and pajamas disheveled. Beads of sweat trickled down the side of her face as she buried her visage on her palms. It was a sweet dream, honestly, but there was something in the dream that terrified her. She couldn't remember what, but she sure felt anxious.

The next dream she had was probably one of the uncomfortable ones she ever had in the two decades of her life. She knew it very much that she was an aromantic and asexual, that the pleasure of physical desire and fantasy of romance never appealed to her. However, that dream contradicted her personality. It was a night full of wanton escapades; she was pinned down on the bed by a man, probably the same person who dragged her out of the party before. Miku hated romance and the idea of sex, but in that dream—disgusting though it was, she was having fun. It was a night too bold, too…immodest for her liking. When she woke from that dream, she felt happy and disgusted at the same time. Well, she remained aromantic and asexual—that was the good thing.

Her dreams went on like that, she running around with some guy whose face remained unremembered the morning she woke up. Lately she was accustomed to having these dreams as if she was living a separate life once the evening disclosed. Though it was odd, things felt normal after having the similar dreams for over twenty days now. However, last night was an entire different matter. It was neither a sweet nor steamy dream, but it was weird one—for it was quite mystical.

Michaela—it was the name people from her dream called her. It was the same word she had been frightened of ever since she woke up this morning. Last night's dream turned out too vivid, she could remember how the harsh rain and wind brought disaster to her—supposed—favorite rose garden, the same garden where she would secretly meet her lover. The heaven was probably displeased to witness two youths wandering in the garden to indulge in a forbidden romance. Michaela and—, these names were called out loud and clear against the raging weather. Standing at the center of the rose garden, a woman soaking wet yelled out. Michaela… The next thing she knew, the outrageous woman was laughing and grumbling foreign phrases.

The next time you two fall in love with each other, I shall take away your life.

Miku smiled against the teacup and batted her eyes as she looked at her friend. She woke up earlier than usual, so her eyes felt so heavy every time she would blink. "The dream explained it to me—why I can't love romantically."

Miriam nodded, popping a cookie in her mouth. "Uh-huh, go on."

"Someone cursed me—er, us, that if we fall in love, we will die." Miku took a wisp of her teal hair that fell in front her face and tucked it behind her ear. "That seems plausible. I won't give up life over something trivial such as love, will I?"

"Well, using your dream to support your aromantic-ism is not exactly a logical and reliable way to explain yourself," Miriam argued. "Why were you cursed, though?" the blond asked herself, not meaning to raise an inquiry that her guest wouldn't be able to answer. Leaning back on the cushion, both arms rested on the armrests of her seat, her blue-grey eyes narrowed at her guest. "Anyway, I haven't fully grasped your aromantic ways, Miku, but can you really not love?"

"Platonically, I can. Romantically, nah, nope, never in a million years." Miku flashed a smile before putting back her teacup on the table. "Love is a laughable subject I'm not really into. Until today I still don't know what to feel with these recurring dreams. However, in those dreams I understood how 'twas like to love. It is fun, but I really don't see myself falling in love now—if at all."

"Aren't you just one of those 'maybe you haven't met the right one yet' cases?"

"Impossible."

"You're quite stubborn, Miku."

"I stand firm on my ground, Miriam."

The blond chuckled, an air of triumph made her glow. She knew that Miku was just being stubborn but after having those dreams, she completely softened. Maybe the teal-head hadn't noticed it yet, that she was actually enthralled with the idea of love. Miriam had been listening to Miku ever since her first dream and the blond observed that every time Miku would tell her dream, she was wearing an expression that was actually…beautifully enigmatic.

"Right," Miriam heaved a sigh, pretending that she lost in this conversation again. Shrugging, she picked up another cookie and popped it in her mouth. "It's about time you go shopping. Spend your day off wisely. Now, shoo."

"What a nice way to cast me out of your flat," the guest sneered but she rose from her seat anyway. "Aight, I'm leaving. I'll see you tomorrow in the office, Mir."

"Fine, take care."

Miku heaved the bag of her groceries in one arm while her freehand held the receipt close to her face. She was walking slow as she digested whatever the prices listed on the receipt, silently monitoring if there were any price increase to the products she had purchased. Under the broad daylight she waltzed along the swarm of people crowding the streets, dodging them as much as possible. There was no use of lifting her head to see where she was going—still engrossed with the figures on the receipt—for she knew the streets of this town like the back of her hand.

The incessant thudding of her boots against the ground echoed when she turned down a deserted alley, a short-cut way back to her house. As the shadows of the establishments towered over her, the girl folded the receipt neatly and stuffed it in the grocery bag along with her items. She groped for the back pocket of her jeans as she went closer to the road. The screaming of the children could be heard now, so was the car engines as they dashed across the road. Heaving a deep sigh, Miku smiled and finally stepped out of the narrow alley. Just then, a hand stretched out a meter away from her knees.

"Any spare change, ma'am?"

Miku glanced down at the grayish hand from a young man clad in soiled, tattered overcoat. The baseball cap she had given him a few weeks ago, he was still wearing it. Like most of his clothing, the cap was a tad dirty too. She could see the faint traces of dirt besmirching the white part of the hat. The lady took the pennies and some bills she had in her pocket and dropped it on the man's palm. It was a small change from her shopping, anyway.

"Thank you," said the beggar.

"Why don't you go to—" Miku was not able to finish her sentence when the beggar stood, his shadow casting on her as she stood in full height. His face was darkened by dirt; what he really looked like was up for her to imagine. Miku was supposed to suggest the local shelter which would take in the homeless people. She had seen the man wandering in this part of the town for a month now. Somehow she felt bad for him since she would find him sleeping in the streets, mindless if it was raining or not. Miku remembered when she handed him that cap last time; his dirty blond hair was drenched with rain. He was crouching on the wet ground, his elbow on his folded knees as his palm hanged open in the air. Begging, as usual.

"G'bye, ma'am." The man turned his back and whisked away, his long dingy mustard coat swaying behind him. Miku blinked as he walked away, his towering figure so easy to notice from the crowd.

"He was one proud beggar, hm?." The girl mumbled to herself before walking on the other side.