Chapter Text
The ball raged on, smelling faintly of cologne and sweaty bodies rubbing far too close to her. Miorine had tried to escape a grand total of three times. And each time, she’d been stopped by another and another increasingly snobbier, older, and grosser man looking to dance.
She couldn’t exactly decline, so even though she was a breadth away from the door, a step from freedom, a finger from feeling cool night air, she was whisked away on the back of another nobleman looking to gain favor in her father’s eyes.
Miorine clutched this particular man’s vest with one hand and kept her other hand limp in his grasp. He smelt of alcohol and body odor, and his breath shot out from between his oily lips like sour milk, stirring nausea deep within Miorine’s core.
“So, princess,” the noble went in for the kill like a snake unhinging its jaw. “What is it you’re looking for in a husband?”
The music reached a crescendo, but Miorine’s heart remained steady, uncaring, dull, and bored. She simply swayed along with the man, allowing him to lead solely because that was what was expected. She didn’t even begin to entertain opening her mouth to reply since the man would probably scold her if she did.
“Quiet, aren’t you?” He chuckled, and it was like nails scraping against metal in her ears. “That’s good. We men like obedient, quiet wives.”
Miorine wanted to puke, both from the way her skin burned against his touch and from his hot breath seeping into her nose. The way he stared at her, beady eyes trailing up and down her body and his lips stretched in a coy smile as if she were so easy as to bed someone as old as he was.
Bile threatened to spill from her throat, burning as it traveled up to her esophagus.
Miorine pulled away, muttering an apology, while he growled and attempted to pull her back. She was quick to dodge out of the way, slapping her hand over her mouth and mumbling. “Please excuse me, Sir Itta.”
He hesitantly let her go, scoffing as she turned and easily waltzed through the middle of the ballroom. As she passed, men ogled, greedy like vultures, staking out an abandoned carcass, and it took little more than a minute or two before, once again, another person came up to her.
At least he was somewhere around her age.
Except it was Guel Jeturk, which was so much worse.
“Ah, Princess Miorine, there you are.” He stepped in front of her, blocking her from the door that led out to the courtyard and into her mother’s garden. She held back a scowl, gently scuffing her heels against the ground as she shifted to a little more comfortable standing position.
“Jeturk.”
“Is that any way to address your future husband?” He stood with his hands clasped behind his back and a smirk stretched across his lips. “What do you say to a quick waltz? Seeing just how awful most of the nobles are, you’d be dying to get your hands on someone who can actually lead you,” he cackled like a hyena.
Miorine blew out a breath, averting her eyes for a moment in a fruitless effort to get herself out of this. “You’re no better than the oldest of them, Guel,” she spat his name out like it was poison.
His smirk faltered for a moment, revealing the beast that was Guel Jeturk just under the surface of his well-practiced façade. Just like everyone else in this miserable place, Guel was only after glory, a title, the crown, spreading his father’s corrupt influence, and everything but Miorine herself.
For the first fifteen years of her naïve life, she’d chased her perfect prince, only to find such a man did not exist. She had been a fool ever to imagine a fairy tale love would find her, and her mother had been a fool for instilling those dreams within her.
“You know who you’re meant to be, Princess.” Guel spoke her title as if it was a hindrance on his lips, fawning to know the burden it weighed on her shoulders. “My wife and my queen.”
“I’d rather die.”
“Mm, yes, just be sure to do so after the wedding.”
Miorine glowered as he turned, hulking frame receding into the crowds. She stared after him for far too long, dread wrapping its decaying fingers around her heart, clutching harsher with each weak beat.
Her fate was all but sealed. If not death—something akin to it—she’d be reduced to nothing but a broken statue, just as her mother had been.
Turning quickly, Miorine stalked past a few stragglers standing idly by the doors and slammed them open, shoulders hunching as cool air washed against her face and helped to quell the fire in her gut.
Tears threatened to well in her eyes, but she sucked them down. Princesses don’t cry. They don’t whine nor beg, and they certainly don’t want for anything more than what this world could give a woman.
Nothing but a child bearer. That was her curse, and admitting that, little by little, made Miorine slightly less perturbed by it.
Despair was fickle anyway, as inconsistent as any emotion. Within a second, feelings change; within a moment, everything she felt could be snatched away in place of something else.
And that was what she was hoping for.
Miorine stalked through the courtyard, glaring and holding her head high. The cracked, weed-infested stone path was well-worn with dirtied footsteps, both hers and those of the few guards who patrolled late at night, serving as a significant reminder of just how little her father cared.
And once the courtyard opened into her mother’s garden, only her footsteps remained.
Despite the number of times she’d seen it, been within its walls, and stared out at the garden her mother had cherished more than anything, it always made Miorine gape in awe. Lined with a thicket of overgrown shrubs and wildflowers, the inners of the garden were filled with plants of all kinds. Flowers, fruits, vegetables, anything, and everything that could possibly be grown in the soft soil of Asticassia was planted here. Still, it remained unused for years, only kept alive by Miorine’s dexterity and stubbornness to keep her mother’s remaining memory alive.
Her father would have destroyed it long ago if given the chance.
The fountain in the middle was a testament to that. At one point, there was a statue at the top, one of her mother. It was built before she was born as a gift from her father just before they were married, and Miorine used to love coming out to the garden with her mother and sitting at the edge of the fountain, throwing coins in the water, and watching it ripple.
Now, however, the statue is half destroyed. The head and torso smashed to bits, leaving nothing but the lower half of her mother’s favorite sundress billowing in the wind as if she were still here.
She wasn’t. She was as gone as the statue itself. Miorine knew that.
Sitting at the edge, Miorine took a deep breath, closing her eyes and taking in the atmospheric sounds of water wooshing and late-night critters calling. The garden served as her getaway, the one place she could stop and pretend that she was someone unimportant.
Where she was free to be herself—just Miorine.
Even if it was lonely to be herself at times.
Miorine had sat by herself at the fountain for so long that she couldn’t remember what it was like to share its beauty. It almost felt like the place was nothing but a dream, an illusion, exposing her hesitance to let go of the past.
Miorine had never been good at that.
A twig snapped to her right, and Miorine whipped her head toward the lining of shrubs and wildflowers against the cracked stone wall. It was almost pitch black, save for the stars and the waning crescent moon, so she couldn’t see much and only heard the slight rattling coming from the bushes. It was enough to have her standing up and walking toward it.
“Hello?” Miorine called, aware of how stupid she must look. It was probably just an animal—a rabbit or something. She should just turn and go back to moping like the pathetic excuse of a princess that she was.
Another twig snapped, and Miorine hesitantly pressed on, silencing the words in her mind in favor of focusing solely on the ruffling shrubs. As she got closer, she could make out some of the wildflowers dotted around the branches, some perennial lupines, and such, drawing her eyes to the center where something akin to a hand reached out.
Miorine fell back onto the dirt, too shaken to scream but too terrified to move away. She stared in abject horror, watching as the hand sunk back into the shrubs, disappearing as if it were never here, and now she was wondering if she’d had a little too much to drink.
But then, a small squeak sounded, and a tall figure fell out, crashing forward and landing on top of her, tangling their limbs together and pressing so closely that Miorine was both incredibly uncomfortable and scalding.
“W-What—”
The woman scrambled off of her, stringing together words that barely made any sense with how fast she was speaking. Miorine took in her rosy, bronzed cheeks, freckles, and red lips pursed as she tittered, shrinking into herself under Miorine’s harsh gaze.
The only thing Miorine could make out among the chaos was one: this girl was very sorry; two, she didn’t mean to spy; and three… she was stunning—she didn’t say that last one; that was simply an astute observation from an unbiased third party.
“Stop talking,” Miorine commanded, holding her palm out with a quirk of her lips. The girl looked apprehensive, tilting between what was probably going to be another heartfelt apology and perhaps just running away entirely.
“What were you doing in the bushes?” Miorine doubted she’d get much of a coherent answer from the girl, but her curiosity desired to be sated.
“I-uh, I was um… just, uh…”
Miorine sighed. “I can’t help but be slightly worried about a random girl having access to the gardens.”
“I didn’t m-mean to! I just…”
Miorine watched the girl chew on the inside of her cheek. Sighing, she dutifully noted that she was still sitting in the dirt, so she took a second to stand on shaky legs and cross her arms over her chest.
“I, uh, saw it from the window, and i-it looked beautiful, so I wanted to take a look around.” The girl pressed her pointer fingers together, looking down and pouting. “A-And it was overwhelming in there, so…”
“Mmm.” Miorine understood a little too well. “That still does not explain why you were in the shrubs of all places.”
“O-Oh… that, yes. You see,” she tittered nervously, which slowly became incessant and very annoying to have to deal with when all Miorine wanted was a simple answer. “I-I heard someone coming and got scared, s-so I just… hid?”
“I see,” Miorine hummed, keeping her expression as blank as possible as she looked over the girl still kneeling in the grass. She hadn’t noticed it until now, but her hair was red and fiery, and it was pulled back and up into a messy sort of bun with a small golden tiara that accentuated her eyes a little too well.
“I-I-I’m sorry!” The girl scrambled to her feet and bowed embarrassingly, her forehead almost touching the ground and sending the tiara to the ground with a quiet smack.
“Please get up,” Miorine hissed, somehow morbidly humiliated by the actions of this strange girl. Thankfully, she was quick to follow instructions and stood stark straight, chin lifted a little too high and awkwardly.
“...Just relax.” Miorine would have laughed if it wasn’t both pathetic and annoying. This girl clearly wasn’t used to being in such a grandiloquent place as the kingdom’s castle. Her appearance fit in, yes, but her mannerisms certainly did not.
“Are you a noble, Miss…”
“U-Um, Suletta Mercury.”
“...Miss Mercury?”
Miorine watched as the girl rapidly shook her head, almost shaking loose strands of fluffy red hair. What a mess.
“What about you?”
Miorine quirked a brow, humming in thought. She debated revealing her identity, especially since it didn’t seem like this girl, Suletta, knew who she was at all.
“No.” She settled for simplicity. It wasn’t like she owed her an explanation or anything.
“Oh.”
The air turned awkward, or well, more awkward, but Miorine didn’t look away from her eyes because, in a way, it grounded her. It reminded her of the ocean, which she’d only seen once before, a long, long time ago.
“T-Then you're here for the, um, party?”
Miorine hummed in acknowledgment, finally tearing her eyes away and toward her nails, which she inspected absently.
“O-Oh, then I wouldn't want to uh… keep you, so—” Suletta started backing away, sheepish, and Miorine’s eyes followed her figure. Something about watching her walk away didn't sit right, as if she was someone Miorine shouldn't let go, as if she should wrap her hands around her and hold her close, so she opened her mouth and called to her, startling slightly when Suletta whipped around far too aggressively.
“W-What is it, ma’am?”
Miorine huffed. “First of all, don't call me ma'am. Miorine is fine.”
Suletta shrunk under her gaze, but she nodded.
“Secondly, we both know how stuffy it is in that ballroom, so—” Miorine cut herself off with a frustrated breath of air, not knowing what to say now that she'd gotten to this point.
She swallowed thickly, “You can stay here.”
Suletta perked up. “R-Really? Is that okay? I wouldn't want to bother you, Miss Miorine. I can help around if you want! I don't know a lot about gardening, but my mom taught me some stuff, and my sister, too; she's really smart but kind of short. I’m good at cleaning, too, so I could sweep the floor or something—”
Miorine sneered, “Are you quite finished?” She stared slack-jawed, barely able to comprehend the wall of words that sprung out like a broken water spout. “Please never do that again.”
Suletta clamped her teeth shut audibly. “Shrry.”
Blowing out another exasperated breath, Miorine beckoned Suletta over. She took a seat at the edge of the fountain, eyes trained on the admittedly captivating girl as she approached like a deer ready to bolt.
“I won’t bite.”
“I-I know, it’s just—”
“Just sit next to me,” Miorine snarled, silently kicking herself when Suletta shrank back. She should probably ease up on the girl. “Sorry.”
Suletta perked up. She moved to sit at the edge of the fountain, almost on the other side of Miorine, which was annoying but understandable given how she had treated the girl so far.
“It’s just a lot.”
Suletta turned to her. Miorine found herself lost in ocean azure.
“The party… the dancing. I hate dancing,” she snarled, noticing how Suletta’s eyebrows scrunched in response.
Letting out a breathy chuckle, Suletta leaned over the water, and Miorine watched as she dipped her fingers in it and waded through the crystal blue. “I can’t dance at all. Was never taught how.”
“You’re not missing much.”
“Maybe… but I’ve always dreamed of dancing with someone special one day.”
Miorine bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut in favor of looking at Suletta’s hopeful face. It looked so similar to how she used to view the world before she realized she’d never have a choice of whom to love.
If she had a choice, it definitely wouldn’t be any men. She much preferred the… fairer sex. But that wasn’t even remotely allowed, not to mention something plausible in this day and age.
God, Miorine wished she had just been born in a different time.
“Why not learn?” Miorine whispered over the backdrop of flowing water, serving as a constant reminder of where she was and who she was meant to be. It kept her grounded, but she didn’t want to be grounded right now.
She wanted to dream.
Miorine turned back to Suletta’s bright gaze, and it was so easy to get lost in that look. Innocence, but not the naive kind, just the… optimistic kind. One she would kill to have.
“I guess I could, but I don’t know anyone who could teach me. My mom doesn’t dance either, not since—” Suletta fiddled with her fingers, and her eyes dulled. “Ah, never mind.”
Miorine quirked a brow, but she didn’t pry. When it was so obvious they’d never see each other again, what did it matter what she knew about Suletta?
And yet, “I can teach you.”
“R-Really? B-But, Miss Miorine, I thought you hated dancing?”
Miorine bit the inside of her cheek. “I do, but it doesn’t feel right that you won’t do something just because you don’t know how.” Very much unlike her, she looked down at her hands and gently picked under the beds. “...Since I know how, I might as well teach you.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Miorine looked up, her face flushing when she felt warmth engulf her body. The force with which Suletta all but tackled her sent them both falling back, and before she knew it, the heat became shivering cold as they splashed into the fountain.
“I-Idiot!” Miorine gasped, but she didn’t feel angry. Suletta was straddling her, cupping her cheeks, and asking if she was okay over and over again, but she could barely hear it over the ringing in her ears or with how her mind focused heavily on how earthy and natural Suletta smelled.
“Miss Miorine!” Suletta had tears pooling at the corners of her eyes, and Miorine decided she didn’t like seeing them. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
Miorine reached up and brushed a strand of red hair behind her ear, taking in the sight of reddened cheeks and parted lips. The ringing was still far too loud, knocking around in her head and definitely serving to annoy the fire out of her, but with how Suletta was gazing at her, it didn’t feel all that bad.
Miorine ripped her hand away, seemingly waking up from the slight haze she’d fallen into. “You can get off of me now,” she murmured, adverting her gaze in favor of staring down at the ice-cold water rippling around them. Despite how it felt on her skin, Miorine’s insides felt very, very warm, almost uncomfortably so.
“Ack!” Suletta scrambled back, splashing water all over the place and falling over the ledge and onto the grass. “M’ sorry!”
Miorine coughed a laugh, finally feeling the chill of the water seep into her bones. She crawled to a stand, shivering and teeth chattering against the backdrop of night, and her dress thoroughly soaked.
“You really are an idiot.”
Suletta whined, hiding her face in her hands. She looked like a kicked puppy, kneeling in the grass and shaking her head. She muttered something over and over, but Miorine couldn’t hear it with how loudly her brain was pounding against the sides of her skull.
And yet, despite being close to hypothermia, Miorine crouched down beside her. She let out a breath, unfamiliar with this whole… consoling thing, so she just did what the maids always did with each other and put her hand on Suletta’s shoulder.
It… worked? Suletta stopped shaking. Her breathing slowed, and she slowly moved her hands away to peek up at Miorine, who refused to make eye contact. It was awkward, far too uncomfortable, and it was clear that she had no idea what she was doing.
But it still worked, so she considered that a win in her mind.
“I’m sorry, I got a little excited,” Suletta muttered, leaning into Miorine’s touch. Her brain screamed at her to move away, but she didn’t; she let Suletta rest against her front.
They were both soaked to the skin, cold, and shivering, but where their bodies connected, it felt comfortably warm. With one hand on Suletta’s shoulder, Miorine brought the other one up to gently massage through locks of damp hair, lost in her own spiraling, selfish thoughts. She didn’t notice how the girl had gone rigid, how her chest barely moved, or how she was leaning even further into her touch.
Rather, she pretended not to notice it because noticing it meant realizing just how much Miorine was beginning to enjoy Suletta’s company.
But they couldn’t see each other again. Not when Miorine was the princess and when Suletta was… well, she didn’t know, and she had to keep it that way.
There was something about the girl, though. Something supernatural, even, had Miorine leaning into her warmth and letting out a breathy sigh. She felt comfortable for the first time in far too long.
“M-Miss M-Miorine?”
Humming with contentment, Miorine barely realized how she’d snaked a hand around Suletta’s waist and pulled her close. She was clutching her so tightly, as if she’d fall away into obscurity if Miorine ever dared to let go.
And most surprising of all, upon realizing this, Miorine didn’t let go. She held on tighter, resting her head in the crook of Suletta’s neck and taking in petrichor and rose petals.
“I’m cold,” she murmured, as if that were a good enough excuse for how tightly she was clutching the girl.
“I-I’m sorry.”
Grumbling, Miorine gently tugged a lock of her hair, eliciting a soft howl of pain from the girl. “Stop apologizing. It’s so annoying.”
“S-Sorry.”
Miorine scoffed. “You’re impossible.”
“S—”
“Don’t you f*cking dare.”
Suletta whimpered, sinking into herself despite being a head and a half taller than Miorine. It was kind of cute how easily she got flustered, if not a tad bit irritating.
“M-Miss Miorine?” Suletta’s voice lilted against the soft sounds of the garden, still shrouded in darkness, but the stars burned even brighter above them. “W-We should probably get dried off…”
Miorine huffed in agreement but didn’t begin to move. She would most definitely regret it later, but for once, she wanted to hold onto someone’s warmth for just a little longer. She wanted to be selfish.
“Miss Miorine?”
Sighing in exasperation, she finally let go, allowing Suletta to scoot forward and get to her feet. Feeling more than a little frustrated, Miorine smacked away the hand offering to help, and she less than gracefully stood up, desperately cold without Suletta’s heat to push it away.
“You can come with me to my… quarters,” Miorine hesitated. Should she really be bringing Suletta inside the castle—into her room, no less? Not to mention the mess that desperately needed cleaning. Even more, Suletta still didn’t know her origins. That could prove to be an issue later on.
“Is that really okay?”
Miorine frowned. This was her chance to take it back. “Why would I say so if it wasn’t?”
“R-Right.”
Rolling her eyes, Miorine grasped Suletta’s bigger and more calloused hand, and she did not blush at all, not even a little bit. The way their fingers intertwined felt so right, as if they were made to fit together, but she wasn’t focusing on that at all.
She was focusing on exiting the garden, pulling Suletta behind her, and thinking about how annoying it would be to cut through the ballroom while soaked. That definitely wasn’t an option, but it was the fastest way of getting to her room.
Still, no matter how fast, they couldn’t go through there, not when Miorine looked like a cat dunked in water and certainly not with how tightly she was grasping Suletta’s hand.
“This way.” Miorine diverted from the set path, creating two sets of brand-new footprints on the bright green grass. Twigs and leaves snapped underfoot, and with each biting gust of wind, she shivered, holding onto the arm clasped with Suletta’s as if that would do anything to keep the cold out.
Her dress, as pretty as it was, was backless, leaving more than just a little of her pale skin exposed to the elements.
Suletta, on the other hand, had planned much better. Her dress was strapless, but she had a shawl over it as well. Even though it was soaked, it looked really cozy.
“Wait, Miss Miorine!”
She stopped, turning to face Suletta, hating how she had to crane up to look the girl in the eyes. “What is it? Make it quick; I’m cold.”
Suletta’s hand released hers, and it was more than a little upsetting. She backed up slightly, arms reaching up to grasp the material around her shoulders and lift it off. Miorine watched as she wrung it out before beaming at her and draping it over her shoulders.
Miorine’s breath hitched.
“Is that better?”
“Idiot, you’ll get cold!”
“I run hot, Miss Miorine,” Suletta giggled, and her hand returned to clasp Miorine’s palm. “I’d much rather you be comfortable, anyway.”
“Idiot.” Miorine pulled ahead, hoping to expel the flush on her cheeks by focusing on figuring out the best way to get to her room. “If you get sick, it’s not my fault.”
“I wouldn’t blame you.”
Miorine felt anger pool in her stomach—this girl.
“I won’t be nursing you back to health, either,” she scoffed, desperate to win this little… spat? It wasn’t an argument. Frankly, it was just Miorine getting annoyed with how sweet Suletta was being.
“I wouldn’t. I’d nurse you back to health, though, Miss Miorine!”
Miorine stopped, gripping so hard that her knuckles turned white. The anger was getting to her, a fiery pit of despair opening in her stomach and pulling her in.
“Why are you being so nice?” She spat, grinding her teeth together with how Suletta was still smiling. “You don’t even know me.”
Suletta shrugged, and it was possibly the worst response she could have given. “I… don’t know. You looked sad in the garden, so—”
“But you don’t even know me?” She repeated. It made no sense to someone like her—someone who had been surrounded by people who were only nice to get after her title. “You do realize where you are, right?”
“How do you mean?”
Miorine finally let her go, and she stalked ahead with thumping steps. The turmoil swirling in her mind was second only to the heat burning within her chest. “You really don’t have a clue what kind of position we’re in right now?”
“Ah… no?” Suletta tittered, doing that thing where she pressed her fingers together, and it was so cute and so annoying, and Miorine was pissed for no reason.
“Whatever. Nevermind. Just come on.” Miorine didn’t turn back as she trod ahead, and she certainly didn’t miss the warmth nor the callouses of Suletta’s palm wrapped in hers.
As soon as possible, Miorine diverted from the outside of the castle into one of the side doors that she shouldn’t know about but did. It wasn’t a secret entrance, per se; rather, it was an entrance for the servants and guards to use exclusively. Except Miorine used it quite often to sneak out, usually with her maid in tow. How else was she supposed to get seeds from the market?
Miorine opened the door and ushered Suletta inside, still disgruntled at the girl but having changed her expression to something a little less vicious. It wasn’t right to get mad at her. She seemingly was just that innocent, as annoying as it was to deal with.
The walk away from the servant halls toward the more decorated parts of the castle had Suletta in awe, and Miorine desperately trying to keep her attention focused on just getting to the room instead of looking at every single painting plastered on the walls. She was like a child, gasping with each new discovery that came with each new hall Miorine turned down.
“It’s not that impressive,” Miorine scoffed when Suletta pointed up at a portrait of a landscape scene depicting the rolling mountains of Peil.
“It’s beautiful!”
Miorine pulled her by the wrist, clenching her jaw as Suletta whined. Her room wasn’t far, and she was uncomfortable with the water soaking into her skin. Desperately, she wanted to sink into a bath and just fall asleep.
As soon as the door to her room came into view, Miorine’s hand slid down from Suletta’s wrist and intertwined their fingers. “This is it.”
“Oh.”
Miorine didn’t focus too much on her reaction, instead opening the door and pulling the girl in before slamming it closed. She hoped no one saw.
“Go ahead and get changed here. I have some spare clothes you can wear.”
“A-Ah, h-here?”
“Is it not to your liking?” Miorine turned to face her, taking in the stupified expression on Suletta’s face.
“B-B-But isn’t this… a royal’s room?”
Miorine scoffed, pretending to be indifferent about it. “Yes, and? I am the princess, after all.”
“P-P-Princess?!” Suletta squeaked, shrinking into herself like she did when she got nervous. Miorine looked her up and down, clearly annoyed.
“Yes, I’m the princess. But that doesn’t matter right now,” she scolded, gesturing to Suletta’s dress, which stuck to her bronze skin. “Get out of that before you get sick.”
Suletta nodded, beginning to strip right in front of Miorine.
“N-Not right there, idiot!” She gasped, turning away with a furious flush.
“But we’re both girls, Miss Miorine?”
“That doesn’t matter!” Her voice squeaked embarrassingly. As much as she’d liked to have covered it, she was far too busy with being mortified. “There’s a closet behind that door,” she pointed in the general direction of it. “Go in there and change.”
“A-Ah, yes, uh, princess.” Suletta shuffled over to it, her dress hanging off her shoulders, and Miorine clicked her teeth when the door shut behind her.
“And I told you, just Miorine is fine!”
A muffled crash came from the other side, along with Suletta’s voice. “M’ sorry!”
Rubbing her temples, Miorine turned her focus back to her own dilemma. She still had Suletta’s shawl around her shoulders. The material was scratchy, but it was keeping her warm, and embarrassingly, it held that same petrichor and cherry rose scent that wafted from Suletta herself.
She refused to be as desperate to sniff it, so instead, Miorine pulled it off of her shoulders and hung it in the bathroom to dry. She quickly shucked off the rest of her clothes and shivered as the cold air bit into her pale skin, getting more and more frustrated with each second she fiddled with the bath.
Usually, she’d have Lilique draw up the bath for her, but she was both more than capable of doing that herself—or so she hoped—and holding a girl in her room that definitely shouldn’t have been there. She trusted her personal maid not to say anything, but Miorine couldn’t be too careful.
“Damn,” Miorine snarled. She was really missing her right now. The numerous valves and levers and all manners of buttons made absolutely no sense, and Miorine was left there wondering why exactly it had to be so damn complicated. For heaven’s sake, it was just supposed to be water!
“Miss Miorine?”
She squeaked, hearing the door open behind her. Miorine rushed to hold a towel over her naked body, and she looked over at Suletta with a furious snarl. “What the hell!?”
“Ack!” Suletta fell forward into the bathroom. She scrambled to her feet, hiding her eyes with a hand, and stood there like an idiot. “I’m sorry!”
“Don’t be sorry, just get out!” Miorine fumed. This girl certainly wasn’t privy to any of the normal social taboos within higher royalty, and it showed in how casually she was found in precarious situations with other women.
Suletta didn’t move. Miorine stared at her, feeling incredibly small with only a towel wrapped around her more private areas.
“Do you need help, Miss Miorine?” Suletta still had a hand over her eyes, and she looked stupid standing there in Miorine’s night clothes that fit her a little strangely. “You sounded a little frustrated.”
“Were you eavesdropping on me?”
“Wha-” Suletta pulled her hand away for a second to look at Miorine incredulously, but she just as quickly put it back with a squeak. “Sorry!”
“Fine, just stop it.” Miorine adjusted the towel around her chest. “Do you know how to work this thing?”
Suletta shrugged, and it once again annoyed her. “I can figure it out, probably?”
“How promising.”
“Trust me, Miss Miorine!” She smiled under the hand over her eyes. “I got this.”
Miorine, far too cold to protest, gruffed, stepping back and allowing Suletta to take her place next to the bath. She watched as the girl crouched and inspected all the knobs, a serious look overcoming her usual nervous one.
“Can you fix it?”
“Shush.”
Miorine guffawed. “Don’t you shush me!” Where was the timid, stuttering mess of a girl from the garden?
“Please be quiet?” Suletta finally looked at her, hand forgotten in favor of staring straight into her eyes. Now it was Miorine’s turn to be nervous.
“Fine. Just hurry up. I’m still cold.”
“I know.” Suletta turned back to the knobs and began turning. Miorine couldn’t see exactly what she was doing, nor could she follow her logic, but she could follow how water soon dribbled from the spout and how steam seeped into the air.
“There we go.” Straightening to her full height, Suletta beamed toward her.
“...Thank you.”
“It’s no problem, Miss Miorine.”
Miorine bit her lip, looking from the warm water to Suletta, who was still shivering a little. “Would you like to take one first?”
Suletta’s smile faltered, and she laughed nervously. “N-No, that’s okay! You go ahead.”
Miorine hummed, inspecting every inch of tanned skin peeking out from her clothes. She had quite a few muscles, surprisingly, and they looked strong and firm.
“If you’re sure.”
“I am!”
Miorine’s lip quirked up. “Then get out.”
