Time passes by in a blink, day after day, spinning in and out from party to party. I am convinced I have met everyone in the capital presently until I remember a particularly famous person when I discover myself to be invited into the notorious admirer of emperor Joaquin- Zinnia Albrecht- the one and only daughter of the headstrong Duke Albrecht.
For the longest of times, I have suspected that Lady Zinnia is indeed plum. After all, her defining features- wolffish amber eyes and cinnamon chocolate hair- match perfectly with the profile of Lady Zinnia. However, their attitudes are completely different from one another, thereby making this whole identity conspiracy suspicious.
However, I have to wonder if the rumors are just false since the beginning since Lady Zinnia has consistently been inconsistent with the social image she bore by not appearing at all in the parties. This peculiar season has gone on for 12 days, with the emperor's banquet occurring the day after tomorrow. But she has been suspiciously quiet, not even an encounter at parties or city touring.
Is Lady Zinnia as a whole just a lie? I look at the gloomy clouds in the skies and tap the clear glass. 'Only time could tell.' Even at the sight of an incoming flood, I close my eyes to this ominous telltale. Regardless of her status as the duke's daughter of the Vranid empire, regardless of how she might come to view me as a potential love rival, is it vain to wish for a friendship with her? I remember the amusing banter we had, and wonder, 'If we were not two humans trapped in a cycle of causeless virulence breeding animosity, how great would it be?'
However, it seems my wish was not granted.
From the very onset, we were received by the duke's manor. the treatment was rather poor, with no one showing up to guide us, or help us descend from the carriage. As a whole, we are left stranded on the floor to entertain ourselves. This party is held in the house of the leader of the noble's faction instead of the imperial power, so Lady Else is most likely to not be here.
"This disgrace! How dare that Zinnia of a Albrecht leave us stranded here? Does she think we're dogs that like running wild?" From the front, I hear my little sister prattle about in anger. She has always been two extremities, at one side easy to please, and at another, equally easy to displease. Perhaps, that is why my admirers don't flock to her despite the lineage.
Looking around, I quickly silence her by making a hush sign. I have already made an enemy of plum, I do not make it highly necessary to make her further mad. As a result, I am faced with the wrath of my sister instead. In the end, I give up and explain after seeing there is no one around.
"Julia. A host always treats others like she wants herself treated, you can't blame her for wanting to be like this." The implication being, she likes running wild unchaperoned. I am not complaining about this setting though, now I have a reason to wander around.
However, my naive little sister seem to not understand and merely fumed. Eventually, she decided to walk on her own, and I who was leisurely got left behind. I took one right, corner after another until it leads to a stair. Out of curiousity, I look upward only to be filled with the urge to runaway.
There in all his mighty glory, dressed in a red that seemed so dark it may very well be black, is the very last person I seek to meet- maister door blocker. However, it was too late. Our eyes meet, and in the tangent of our denial, crash. I say this, but the reality was not so romantic, with his legs slipping and causing him to nearly fall on top of me.
Fortunately, he was already on the second lowest stair, and I dodged a bit to the left. Nevertheless, it wasn't enough to get out of his grasp and I got used as a tool to get rid of the momentum, his hands on my shoulder clutching tightly as if trying to hold on to a mirage.
"You are real." I hear him mutter something inaudibly, causing me to cast a question in my gaze, befuddlement with a hint of worry, however, he seems unable to take it in. As if there is an unseen force overwhelming him. To check his mental state, I shake my hand in front of his face several times, but he is unresponsive.
'Is this guy alright?'
Worry fills my brain and I decide to test out a more secure way to verify if he has fallen asleep standing or not. Pinching his cheeks. I admit this has a lot to do with the softness of his cheeks and not much with that fear in itself.
"Maister door blocker?" His breath of surprise as my fingers pull at his skin was the least to say adorable, like a startled raccoon. But I am just glad for his return to reality. Seeing his hands on me, he immediately let go. "Are you... alright?"
I question carefully, with my hands still kneading his face whilst standing on the tip of my toe to make up for the difference in height. As time goes on I start losing my footing and was about to quit when the man in front of me seems to be reminded of a particular incident.
"Unhand me."
Needless, to say, I ignore his orders and play around. However, there is a certain air in the room, a mix of indiscernible emotions that causes my hand to go still. And before he could say it a second time, I retract my hand and place feet back flat on the ground.
"So, has time been kind to you, my grace?"