"Yellow?" I ask and Ash shakes his head no.
"Then gray?" I try again, but I'm still wrong about his favorite color. "I give up," I say, taking a cookie from the plate on the mat spread out on the green grass, and biting into it before returning it to the plate. I shift and sit next to Ash, leaning against the tree he is.
"I fancy the color of wood."
"Then how about your favorite book?"
"I don't have a favorite, but Carlistos Evida's story has always stuck with me."
"Then mine would be Leticia Delila," I say, even though he didn't ask. "It's about the daughter of a Marquis who is despised by her stepmother and bullied by her stepbrothers. After her father died and his will was made public, the stepfamily were shocked to learn that Leticia inherited the family fortune and they didn't get anything since the father didn't take Leticia's side when he was still alive. But the Marquis left his entire fortune to his daughter. Leticia eventually rose to power and exiled her tormentors while executing bystanders."
It's a nice story like Cinderella but if one really analyzes it, they can immediately find the harsh sugar coated reality. Whatever women are going through isn't abuse; it's discipline, and they must put up with it. The world is unfair; the stepfamily got to live because they were nobles. I know it's wrong not to do something to stop the abuse, but they're just servants with families to feed and lives to protect. If they intervene, they will face the wrath of the stepfamily, and their family may be implicated as well; and yet they all died in the end.
"What's wrong, Iris?" Ash asks after seeing my sullen expression.
"Nothing. Something just popped into my head. Anyways, I'm all better now!" Not wanting to ruin the mood, I immediately changed my tone to a cheerful one.
"Saridayang. There's no S in anyway," Jenna explains.
"Really? All my life, I thought there's an S."
"There isn't," Ash concurs, nodding his head. Everyone nods in agreement when I look around.
"Fine. Anyway."
"How about your favorite performer, Saridayang?" Jenna asks.
"Arisa Devera!" I say in a singsong manner while doing Arisa's signature move. Arisa Devera is the combination of Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran, known for her emotional songs inspired by her own experiences and observations. Her songs all have a story to them, not just a bunch of words thrown together.
They all laugh. "But Saridayang, there is no such person!"
I freeze on the spot, my right hand is facing the sun, and my left hand is clutching my chest. "What?" I am stupefied.
"I have not heard of an Arisa Devera, Saridayang. Is that the name of one of your dolls?" Nanny asks.
I put my hands down and make mental contact with Mariana. "What the fuck are they talking about? I thought Inamorata is part of this world?"
"She may not have even been born yet, Ari," she responds telepathically.
"How does this world work again?"
"The timeline? The flow follows your manuscript. All those scenes that you played in your head and the outlines that you made."
"Mind elaborating on that?"
"Just think of everything you've thought of as an outline that functions as major key points throughout history. For example, remember Jillian, your nursery classmate, who moved out of town? You couldn't accept that she was already gone, so you pretended she wasn't. You always imagined she was still with you and played with 'her' every day. That version of Jillian manifested in this world, and she rose to prominence as a great artist in Imaginan, with some of her works displayed in the Royal City. If you want, you can look her up in the Royal Library," Mariana tells me.
"Anyway, Arisa will become a well-known singer in the future, but that does not mean she will only be a singer and nothing else," she continues.
In my previous life, when my parents noticed that I had a very vast imagination as a child, they put me in touch with teachers who could help me expand my creativeness. I had several vocabulary and art teachers who helped me translate my thoughts into words and drawings. When I grew up and became an aspiring writer, I chose one of my earlier made-up worlds and developed its worldbuilding to use as my primary setting. I just started with sketches and outlines and then built the world from there. I was eleven at the time. If I had known, I would have spent more time and effort researching and creating the world for my novel. I should have hired a world-building specialist.
"So when will Arisa Devera exist?"
"I do not know. All you need to know is that the things you've imagined as a child are already recorded in history books. Vendetta is also an event of the past. Inamorata, the novel that you failed to finish, is only just starting. Everything you've shared with me, the things you've written in your diaries, and the stories you've created have influenced the creation of this world."
"But I never thought of people dying of chickenpox. Messed up as my mind was, I was never a sociopath."
"Illnesses are caused by humans. People move, do things, and make decisions. This world may be fictional to you, but it is real to these people. Just like Earth."
"So you fucked up."
"Me?"
"Yeah, you could have just filtered things out and chosen to create the good things."
"I'm a figment of imagination; I'm also man-made. I don't know what's good or bad."
"SARIDAYANG!"
Jenna jolts me out of my trance, and my connection with Mariana vanishes. They've surrounded me and are all looking at me with worried expressions. Jenna has her hands on my shoulder and is shaking violently.
"W-what? W-why? What's happening?"
"Are you alright, Saridayang? Are you feeling unwell?"
"N-no. I… Nothing. I just…"
I shake my head and try to recall our conversation before I spoke with Mariana, but I can't recall where we left off, so I just did the unthinkable and diverted their attention. I pretended to be a butterfly and flew into Ash's arms. The tension dissipated as we both rolled down the grass as a result of the collision, and everyone burst out laughing. God, I'm loving the attention these people are giving me.
"OOF! A bird just attacked me!" Ash exclaims.
"A butterfly," I shout.
"A very beautiful butterfly?"
"Mhm!" I bobbed my head up and down enthusiastically.
"Well then, I guess I'm a rare flower if I've smitten such a beautiful butterfly."
"You're a violet rose."
"Ehem!" Someone clears their throat and that's when I realized how quiet our surroundings had become.
I jerk my head back and scramble myself up, not looking away from the person who had just arrived as soon as I realized what was going on. But, in the process, I tumble and land on Ash's chest; I hear him groan but he doesn't complain. I'm not sure why, but my entire body froze in fear of what my eldest brother might do.
Ash adjusts our position and fixes my dress. He rises and greets Brother Lothario, but he is ignored by the latter.
"B-brother…"
"I see that you are all having fun," he says, his voice firm and his expression grim.
"I—uhm… no, I mean… yeah… yeah… sorry."
"For what?"
"For acting… unprincess-like."
Brother Lothario looks at everyone and asks, "Did the princess act unruly?"
They all shake their heads. Brother is pleased with their response and smiles. He sits on the mat, and I join him, while Ash walks away, opting to stand with Captain Osa and Nanny rather than sit with us. Brother and I smile at each other before averting our gazes and pretending to be doing something else. An awkward moment of silence envelopes the surroundings. With nothing to talk about, I asked for an update about the epidemic.
"The Oracle is collaborating with our alchemists to develop a far more effective cure. So far, the results have been positive, and I believe we will soon be able to distribute the correct and accurate potions across the country."
Then silence descends upon us once more.
'Why is Brother Azraq not here? He's the glue that holds our friendship together.'
"He's still in the outskirts," Brother Lothario says.
My eyes are wide as I stare at him. Is he able to read people's minds?
"No, I am unable to read minds. I responded because you expressed your thoughts aloud. Sister, you're easy to read because you wear your heart on your sleeve. You're wondering if I could hear your thoughts just now."
My cheeks flush, and I avert my gaze. My face flushes and my neck becomes hot. "Sorry."
"No worries. I admit that I am not much of a talker. I hope I didn't ruin the mood."
"Oh, no, no. No. No."
"That's a lot of nos," he comments as he sips the tea Jenna has brought him. "We don't say sorry, especially when we haven't done anything wrong."
"Sorry. I mean, okay."
He chuckles and doesn't say more.
…
"Do you wanna play a game?" I ask and he agrees. "What do you wanna play?"
"Whatever you were playing."
'We weren't playing, though.'
Brother says, "Butterfly," when he sees my befuddled expression. Again, reading me.
So he saw what I did earlier.
He stretches his arms out in front of him, expecting me to leap towards him, but I'm too shy to do so, so I made up a new game called Butterfly and explained it to everyone.
"You will all form a circle and hold each other's hands. If the song says the flowers are wilting, walk towards the center; if the song says the flowers are blooming, walk back to your original position. Then, as the butterfly, I'll enter the circle from the outside. I'll close my eyes and spin in a clockwise direction while pointing out my finger. When the music stops, I'll open my eyes and go after the person my finger is pointing at. If I tagged you, you'll become the tagger. You need to chase another person and tag them, too. That's how the game works!"
Is that how the game works? I haven't played this game in a long time. I don't even know what this is called.
It takes him a moment before he agrees; to my delight and the dismay of others. Who would dare to entwine their fingers with a prince with whom they have little contact? A prince with a good chance of one day ruling the kingdom at that.
Everyone takes a position. Jenna and Ash each take Brother Lothario's hand in theirs. They begin quietly, but as a result of my loud voice, they soon sing loudly and clearly as well. In the middle of the song, I enter the circle, cover my eyes, and point my hand in front of me. I spin three times before removing my hand from my eyes. When I see the person to whom my right hand is pointing, I smile. It's my brother.
With my little feet, I run as fast as I can while he jogs away from me. "I'll catch you, Brother!"
He doesn't respond. His fists move up and down more quickly, but he doesn't change his speed to accommodate me. I can see the smile forming on his lips. As the sun shines through his teeth, I swear they gleam.
"Tag! You're it!" I shout happily as I catch up to him and sprint as far as I can.
Brother scans the garden before sprinting to Sir Osa, the person closest to him. However, the fully trained knight outruns him, so he shifts his target to Jenna. Jenna, who is currently laughing her heart out, jolts as she notices Brother approaching her. She instinctively jogs backwards to gain momentum before running at full speed. However, she misses the rock stuck in the ground and trips. Thankfully, Brother is able to catch up to her and catch her.
Their stance is just like heroes do with their damsels in distress, with his hands on her backside and hers on his chest. My mouth twitches. I can see flowers and hearts floating around them in a pink background as she blushes hard and his face heats up. They lock their gazes on each other's eyes and remain motionless. It was as if time stood still for them.
The bystanders' time, on the other hand, flows disgustingly normally, leaving us with no choice but to feel second-hand embarrassment from the two.
I'm about to puke because I'm cringing so hard. Is this what actually happens every time authors write the hero-and-damsel effect? Ew.
The two awkwardly stumble as brother assists her in regaining her footing. Jenna constantly tucks her hair behind her ears and smiles foolishly while staring at the ground. And as if on cue, air blows past them and Jenna's dress billows in the breeze. Jenna looks up and Brother smiles at her like a Cheshire cat, his ears and neck turning red with embarrassment.
'This will take a while. Note to self, don't ever write cringy scenes like this.'
I flop on the grass. This type of scenario leads the leads to believe that time has stopped for them, when in reality, it is they who have stopped, not the time. Never the time. I stretch my legs, forcing myself to watch this overdone, stereotypical lovey-dovey scenario happening in front of me. I used to think that such a scene was very romantic. I even wished for it to happen to me, but now that I'm witnessing it firsthand, the acid in my stomach is bursting at the seams and attempting to escape through my mouth.
I know how this will turn. I'm a writer myself.
"Uhm… thank you, Your Highness," Jenna shyly says.
"You're welcome," he says absently while staring into her eyes.
Blank. Silence. A necessary pause for the leads to process what has just occurred. More blushing and averting of gazes will follow. Then one of the leads would take a step back, creating a space between them that is small enough to be considered personal space but not so small they could still feel each other's breath. More stuttering with exaggerated hand gestures, all while claiming responsibility for themselves and not the others. Then…
"Are you good?"
The man would ask and the lady would answer yes. The man would remind the lady to be more cautious, and the lady would admire his demeanor. "I'll keep that in mind," she would say and thank him.
Then another round of staring and fumbling and silence.
Only then will their time begin to flow, and they will notice that they are holding up traffic and attracting others' attention. But their scene isn't finished yet, there's still more awkward laughter and whatnot.
"Oh! Uhm… sorry… hahaha… ehem! Sorry"
I so hate romance.
They both take a step back. He scratches the back of his neck, and she tucks her hair again behind her ears.
Finally!
"P-princess…"
A smile spreads across my face as an idea occurs to me. "I'm free every day, Brother! I haven't taken any lessons yet, so I still have plenty of time. You can come here every time you're free!"
"What?" He's baffled as to why I informed him of my schedule.
"I'm free, so it's only natural that Jenna would be free, too! Now that I think of it, you can visit me any time of the day. We'll welcome you with open arms. Of course, you can also be in Jenna's arms. No need to worry, everyone here is blind," I tease, causing them both to blush again. [1]
The rest burst out laughing, forgetting that they're laughing at a prince. Can't blame them though, because that said Prince isn't so princely right now. He looks like a young boy caught by his parents masturbating for the first time. My brother is like a deer caught in a headlight right now. He couldn't even reprimand these people for laughing openly at him.
—
[1] Author's Note: The blind part should not be taken literally. It's a snide remark made by Iris to her brother since Lothario basically told her not to mind her manners because no one would rat her out.