"So, what kinds of horrific Grimm have you defeated?" Bolton slinked into the backseat and was promptly followed by his daughter.
"Well..." Glynda bit her lower lip and furrowed her brows.
"I've encountered Mistralian Deathstalkers, but according to Port, the breeds that exist in the southern parts of Anima are much bigger. Not to mention the beowolves in Vale are noticeably more numerous than any other place on Remnant. Then there's the..."
Glynda blinked as her father let out a loud chuckle.
"Come now, relax yourself, child, you're starting to sound like your mother when she gets nervous."
Glynda lowered her head and clasped her hands on her lap. There were so many things that she wanted to say, but conveying your thoughts through speech was a lot harder to practice.
"H-How about you?" She said nervously. "I heard that you and mother managed to get a foothold in Atlas' new military project."
"Ah, quick to change the subject are we?" Bolton grinned at his daughter's adorable pout.
"It's true," Bolton said after giving a show of thinking the topic over, "your mother was the first to jump on the opportunity to offer financial aid. But other than that I can't say she truly understands what the general and his scientists have in store for our kingdom."
"Of course," the huntress beside him huffed, "mother always made sure to have her foot through the door first."
"Indeed," Bolton rambled on, "your mother is actually supposed to attend a meeting with the other council members next week and I hear that George has asked for a private conversation with her to boot."
Glynda lifted her head and tilted it. "I understand that mother would want to keep her investments under her thumb, but she was never one to get personally involved in the military."
The car rounded a corner and the two passengers were greeted with the sight of a stellar building whose placement dominated the street. As in, it was literally the only establishment on the entire block.
Two small statues, carved in the shape of jumping unicorns, stood on either side of a decorated door of polished wood.
Glassy windows tinted in pale yellow, tall pillars of white stone supported them and spanned from the building's foundations to its highest floor which was the eighth.
"The Glass Unicorn?" Glynda waited for the driver to open her door and she left the car gracefully.
"I haven't been to this restaurant since I was ten."
Her father rotated his ankle a few times before leaving the vehicle and grabbed his cane. He held out his arm for his daughter to take and she accepted the polite gesture immediately. Although, with the awkward height difference between the two, Bolton settled for holding hands after sharing a laugh with his child.
"Lord Garf," the man was met with a polite business smile of a pretty woman who wore a white, long-sleeved blouse that was fitted in a long red skirt; "what brings you to my humble hotel at such a late hour?"
Auburn hair combed neatly into a ponytail, the woman's cyan eyes darted to the woman beside Bolton.
"Ah, so you decided to stop by as well, Glynda? I take it you'll be ordering a slice of lemon meringue pie?"
Bolton coughed into a fist. "I'm sorry to be the one to ruin your expectations, Ms. Winchester, but I simply wanted a place where I could have a serious talk with my daughter without the worry of prying ears."
Ms. Winchester raised a dainty brow, but she allowed the lord and his child a room on the balcony on the highest floor.
Bolton gave a slight bow and guided his daughter into the esteemed building of the Glass Unicorn. Within the confines of the magnificent establishment was a long red carpet that led to two desks. One meant for the restaurant that occupied the ground floor, and the other for the visitors who wished to rent a room.
Lines of chocolate-colored doors covered the mocha-colored walls that reached for the glass roof that the Glass Unicorn was very famous for as the roof panels had their faces carved with emblems of all the nobility who decided to rent a room or dine at the hotel.
Bolton and Glynda chose to take the elevator located at the eastern part of the floor and with a click of a button, they were brought to the highest and most secluded balcony of the establishment where a table with a readied tea set was already waiting. There wasn't a servant in sight, but neither Bolton nor Glynda had a problem with that.
The lord and his daughter taking a seat across one another, a blanket of silence lingered between them that Bolton was eager to get rid of.
"Well, this tea is quite wonderful isn't it?" Bolton sighed as his words failed to earn a response.
Instead, Glynda had closed herself in and simply stared at her steaming teacup as if it would do the talking for her.
However, Bolton was a patient man, and he never wanted to push his child into an uncomfortable position unless absolutely necessary. So he continued to sip his tea until there was nothing left, and once he finished his sweet beverage, he decided that now was the time to be stern.
"Glynda, I need you to contribute to this conversation, as I'm well aware that I won't be seeing you anytime soon after today."
The huntress flinched at that and swallowed a thick lump. Brushing aside a stray hair, she locked eyes with her father and moved her lips.
"Do you..." She faltered but gained courage when she saw the kind expression of her elder. "Do you really forgive me after everything I did?"
Bolton took a deep breath and put down his empty cup. He stroked his bushy beard and furrowed his brows and remained silent for a good while.
"No, I can't really say that I do."
Tears began to well up in Glynda's eyes and her visage adorned a look of shock and guilt; as one of the many disgraceful memories that still haunted her had decided to rear its ugly head. She tried to shove it back into the darkness but her passionate emotions would not allow her to retain her stoic facade.
/-/
A long time ago, when Glynda had reached the delicate age of seventeen, she often took to the richer sections of Mantle with her parents for casual shopping sprees.
"How about this one, mother?" Glynda smiled as she held a frilly pink dress in front of her.
"It's wonderful dear, but why not go for a green skirt and white blouse combination instead? It highlights your eyes much better." Caitlin grinned and guided her daughter to a tall mirror where she could observe her fashion choices.
"What do you think, father?" Glynda turned to her other parent who stroked his chin in deep thought.
"Why not try something dashed in violet?" Bolton nodded to an employee on standby and the young teen quickly went to fetch the nicest selections of violet he could find.
It was quite a while until the teen returned, and his dog ears bent downward at the disdainful stares of the older and younger Ms. Goodwitch.
"Honestly, if you can't use your eyes to find what you're looking for, maybe you should try and use your enhanced sense of smell to locate what we demand next time?" Caitlin quipped rudely and shot a mean stare at the employee's Faunus trait.
"Caitlin-" Bolton moved to interject and apologize, but he was rendered insignificant by the abrupt comment of his daughter.
"Perhaps his mind hasn't had a long enough chance to get rid of his more animalistic habits, mother, should we complain to the manager?"
Glynda and Caitlin shared a haughty laugh at this, but Bolton felt the grip around his cane tighten with his facial features twisting into a grimace.
"Glynda," Caitlin playfully scolded, "it's not nice to be so... upfront about someone's shortcomings. It wouldn't do our noble name well if we are always so blunt about such meaningless things."
Bolton glanced at the teen with his peripherals, and it seemed as if the young lad was about to collapse in tears.
"That's enough!" Bolton exclaimed loudly and sternly.
Caitlin and Glynda flinched at the outburst and shared an expression of discontent.
"Thank you for taking the required time to sort through your store's fantastic selections, and I apologize on behalf of my wife and daughter. As you can see, they can be a tad difficult at times."
Bolton asked the teen to place the clothes he'd gathered on a nearby couch then demanded, as politely as he could, for him to excuse himself.
The employee did as he was told and even showed a smile of appreciation to the high lord who treated him like an equal before scampering off.
After the Faunus left, Bolton turned around to see his wife crossing her arms and Glynda looking down at the floor with her hands balled into fists.
"I think we've done enough shopping for today," Bolton sighed, "I'll have the butler and driver gather our things."
"But we haven't finished yet!" Glynda protested.
"I won't be swayed from this decision, young lady, now hurry up before I lose my temper."
Glynda reluctantly did as she was told, but made sure to stomp as loudly as she could on the way out. As for Caitlin, she simply stood there and continued to stare down at her husband, which was easy to do seeing that she was much taller than he.
"Is it so wrong to share a joke with our child?" Caitlin huffed.
"I don't want our daughter to feel entitled to everything just because of how she looks, Caitlin, as I'm sure you're aware of the rumors that have started to spread from Mantle's primary huntsmen academy about our little witch. And those rumors, mind you, aren't to be viewed in a positive manner in the slightest."
"She'll learn to train her tongue and garner the proper connections I've prepared for her." Caitlin countered. "And I'll be sure to inspect those rumors personally after the next council meeting."
"Inspect? Not fix?" Bolton raised the end of his cane to the car that Glynda now resided in.
"There's nothing to fix," his wife replied nonchalantly, "Glynda's grades are stellar and she's the top of all her classes. I couldn't be more proud of her if I tried."
Bolton tried to check his beloved from another angle, but she merely raised her hand as if to say that she was done with this petty conversation and made her way out of the store. She didn't wait for her husband to follow beside her either.
"What a wife I have..." Bolton muttered under his breath and felt the wrinkles on his forehead crease and scrunch. "And such a... talented daughter."
/-/
Back to the present, the lord showed a small smile at his daughter's verbal recollection despite the fact that it twisted her gut to do so.
"Yep, I hate to admit it, but my daughter was quite the brat in her youth..."
Glynda covered her face with her palms as she was too ashamed to meet her father's eye. Though her breath hitched when her parent leaned over the table to firmly grip his daughter's trembling hands.
"Which is why it makes me so happy to see how much she's grown."
Eyes stinging with the threat of tears, Glynda tried to keep her hands up, but couldn't maintain the strength to do so once her father began massaging the back of her palms with his thumbs.
"Come now, Glynda, I didn't bring you here so you could bawl your heart out. I merely wanted to see if the positive habits you left with were still there."
"I... can never take back the things I've said or done..." The huntress lamented.
"No, but it's our mistakes that shape our character, for better or worse. I'm just glad that in your case it was for the better."
"I should have spent more time with you instead of mother..." Glynda said quietly, but not as quietly as she'd hoped.
"Yes, I do wish that there were more photos of me with my adorable Glynda, but I can't really blame you for not wanting to spend quality time with your boring father. How did your mother put it?"
Bolton gently lowered his child's defenses then brushed away her sorrows with a handkerchief.
"That limping beloved of mine would always choose a plain piece of garlic bread over any fine food or divine wine. He even prefers watching the careless birds in the park over the competitive horse races!"
The lord said this with a high-pitched voice and index finger pointed toward the sky while doing his best imitation of his wife's demeanor.
This brought a smirk to Glynda's face as she tried to stop her childish giggles.
"Father!" The mystical witch raised her nose and put a hand on her chest. "It's unbecoming of a noble to be so upfront about someone's character!"
The emotional wall between the two broken, at least for the moment, its collapse allowed them to save a happy memory for once instead of a tearful break in their rocky relationship.
"Well then," Bolton said after taking a few seconds to collect himself, "I think it's time we moved on to a more important issue don't you think?"
"And what important issue... Would that be?" Glynda curled a brow and felt an unsettling feeling form in her gut and hastily took to finishing her tea in an attempt to distract herself.
The mischievous smile on Bolton's face spread so fast that his child would have missed the dramatic shift if she had blinked.
"Why, this is the perfect opportunity for you to tell me all about this magician that you've grown fond of!"
Blindsided by the use of Hawkins' epithet, Glynda spat out the leftovers of her tea all over her father. However, instead of getting angry, Bolton's smile only grew at the sight of his floundering child.
"Grown fond of?! There's nothing to be fond of in regards to that gloomy, rude, and boring man!"
"Really?" Bolton shook his head jokingly while he pulled out another handkerchief to wipe his face and dab his suit. "That's not what Ozpin said the last time your mother and I spoke with him."
Glynda's eyes widened. "You speak with Beacon's headmaster regularly?"
"But of course!" The lord laughed. "Do you honestly think that your parents are so out of the loop? Who do you think contributed to Vale's recovery after that dastardly inferno six years ago? Not only that, but I'll also be providing funds for the Valesian council's decision to integrate the unfortunate and former residents of Mistral's lost territories."
Glynda's face paled at the revelation that her parents had still been keeping tabs on her even after she left. Then again, she shouldn't be that surprised, after all her parents did care for her deep down no matter the circumstance.
"So, which aspect of this magician shall we discuss? Is he employed in some company? Or does he also share the title of hunter?"
"Wait... you don't know his name?" Glynda asked.
Bolton stroked his beard. "Unfortunately not. In all honesty, I bet Ozpin does know that man's name but is keeping it secret from your mother and me for the sake of drama. So, what's his name then?"
Glynda bit her lower lip and shifted her gaze to a flower display that was suddenly very interesting.
"Oh, dear..." Bolton leaned on the table then rested his chin on his palm. "It seems my daughter is flustered with this odd enigma of a man. Tell me, is he at least kind?"
"Not regularly..." The huntress cursed her nervous tongue for allowing a tidbit of information to slip. Said tidbit, was immediately latched onto by her father as he continued his playful interrogation.
"You might as well take this opportunity to create a worthy description of this mysterious man, as your mother has no doubt already prepared a proper interrogation after tonight's banquet."
Bolton sighed happily and felt elated when his next detail made his daughter visibly jump in her chair.
"After all, your mother seemed very displeased when she heard that this magician served as your date for Beacon's grad reunion, and her ire nearly reached its tipping point when she found out that you gave this magician a peck on the cheek."
"I-I never kissed Hawkins!" Glynda slammed her palms against the table and stood from her seat. Her cheeks a tad rosy, her heart sank as she'd allowed a more crucial detail to pry free.
"Ah, so his name is Hawkins, eh? That is quite a nice name, it sounds important and powerful to boot."
Bolton shifted in his chair and was all too ready to chip at his daughter's vulnerable defenses, but his hopes were dashed by the sudden ring of his scroll.
"Ah, it's your mother," Bolton said glumly and quickly answered it.
A few swift exchanges between the adults of the Goodwitch household, the male of the duo humbly relented his former gleeful visage and replaced it with a bored one.
"Your mother wishes for you to return home immediately. It turns out she's scheduled to have you fitted into an extravagant dress and has many tailors waiting by her side right at this moment."
Glynda, however, could only thank Oum for the gracious distraction. From one of the most unexpected people at that.
"Was that all she said?" Glynda wondered aloud.
"Oh, in regards to you, yes." Bolton chuckled. "But she made sure to remind me to not sneak off whenever I see fit. She is very mad as you can imagine and I will no doubt be scolded for my poor behavior tonight."
"I'm sorry." Glynda hummed in a nervous tone.
"Don't worry about it, of all the things your mother can get mad at me for, spending some quality time with my child is not one of them. Besides, you still have a taste for the finer things, don't you? I'm sure you and your mother will actually enjoy getting all prettied up."
"I... won't exactly deny that..." Glynda puffed her cheeks slightly.
She shouldn't feel ashamed for glamouring herself up every once and a while. Because even though she didn't exactly share her mother's views anymore, she still loved her despite it all and the chance to bond was an event that rarely occurred.