There was a girl who always wondered about a few things. Things about her peculiar mother—and it was not about the fact that she was a KANSEN, and a fierce one at that if the tales were true.

"Mom."

"What dost thou need of me, o little one?"

"...Can you...uh, try speaking like a normal person?"

"My child, thy father, my Adonis, adore me so for it. Why shouldst I change?"

"Because that is not how a normal person talks...?"

"'Tis the way my beloved Adonis likes to hear me speak, and 'tis the way thou and the rest of the world shall hear me."

Her father was the reason, she said. But was her father merely accommodating, or was the sentiment genuine? That was the question that burned at the back of the girl's mind.

"Dad."

"What's up, kiddo?"

"How come mom can't speak like a normal person?"

"That's just the way she is, honey. It has a certain charm to it, don't you think?"

"Uhhhh..."

She was still far from the truth.


"Sunshine, thou shalt not be so careless with the plate!"

"Huh? But—"

"Nay! That one shall not be thrown about with the rest; it must not be broken."

"Why not, mom?"

"That is my special plate! I was gifted it by thy father, and I cherish it very much."

"I see..."

The truth was still out of reach.

"You know, sunshine, thou have been gazing at me oddly as of late. What ails thee?"

"Oh, it's nothing, mom. Just thinking about stuff."

"Thy own father does the same a lot of times, but he is usually doing it for the good of us all. Tell me, what art thou pondering about?"

"..."

"Might thou still harbor qualms about mine manner of speech?"

"It's not that, mom. It's just...do you really like it? That way of speaking?"

The sure smile her mother always had to grace her lips had never been so certain. "Aye. I am the happiest woman alive, for my beloved Adonis finds my voice most pleasing to the ears. What is there not to love about it?"

"I see..."

That was the same answer she had before. She wondered if she should never ask about it again.

"Sunshine, thy visage still spelt trouble. Hast thou something more to say to me? Or, art thou, perchance, ill? Might we need to make haste and seek a medicus?"

The smile was still there but tempered with an undercurrent of concern. She could always feel it whenever her mother was genuinely worried, despite appearances, and that was no different.

"I'm fine, mom. Thanks."

"Tis the burden every mother bears for her offspring. Shouldst thou need me, my sweet little sunshine, call upon my name, and I shall hasten to thy side."

She had to admit, though, that her mother always had a way to be reassuring.


"Auntie Wales."

"Hm? What is it, dear?"

"Have you ever...find mom's speech...weird?"

A raised brow and a chuckle followed the question.

"Honestly, I've always been more concerned about her other...bad habits. Now, don't go ask me about them, my sweet. You're too young. But I do thank the heavens that she has mellowed out now after she had you."

"Is mom...different?"

"In many ways, yes. Then again, all of us are."

"..."

"Do you still have more to say, my sweet?"

"...No, Auntie."

"All right. Well, if you do need something to talk about, don't hesitate to approach any of us, okay?"

"...Okay."

But the truth was still elusive.

Aunt Howe said pretty much the same thing, and the ever-reticent Aunt Monarch wasn't really helpful, so that left only Aunt George.

"Hah. If it isn't the little lady who has her head in the clouds these days."

"Good day, Auntie."

"What's the matter, kiddo?"

"I'm...uh..."

"Let me guess, you're asking my sisters about Yorkie and her way of speaking."

"Y-yeah."

"And none of them can answer it to your satisfaction."

She didn't want to be too hopeful, but she couldn't help the slight anticipation building within her. "Are you gonna tell me something, Auntie?"

"Not her reason, certainly, if she even had one. But the fact that despite this, and perhaps her other eccentricities, your parents chose each other."

"That's all, Auntie?"

"And the fact that your father loves her enough that he understands. And that's more than enough."

"..."

"And you, too—don't you understand her regardless? The extent of her...love?"

"Yeah. I guess I do."

"And that's all you need to know."


"Where hast thou been? Thy mother hast been fretting over thee, sunshine."

"Sorry, mom. Just wanted to clear my head."

"Thou shouldst at least told me, sunshine. If trouble befell thee, I shall not forgive myself. But thou art well, yes?"

"I'm fine, mom. Sorry again."

"Tis all right, long as thou art safe. Now, let us hasten to dinner. I asked the maids to prepare thy favorite today, for it hast been a while since thou hath it last."

"Really? Thanks, mom!"

"But first, come here, into my bosom. Let me embrace, because I missed thee terribly."

She wouldn't deny she was taken aback. It was a rare request. But despite, or maybe because of that, she embraced her with little hesitation. And she wouldn't deny that the person holding her close was truly her mother, no matter how strangely she spoke.

And when she thought about it, Aunt George was right. She could always understand her mother anyway.

And she cared for her, too, regardless of her antiquated speech or her tendency to cling to her father in most inopportune moments.

And the girl couldn't explain why.

She just did.

"Mom."

"Yes?"

"I love you, mom."

"Ah...? Oh, I am overjoyed! Oh, my daughter, I love thee too, my little girl, my daughter, mine!"

"Hey, don't squeeze me to death; I can't breathe!"

"Oh, this, I cannot bear it! I must let it out!"

"Ahhhh!"

She could understand it now. Of another language her mother spoke so well. One that needs so few words or can be spoken in so many ways, yet the meaning remains the same.

And she could understand now, with astounding clarity, why her father didn't mind at all.

Now, she wouldn't mind it either.