159 Everything is a dead end.

*clunk*

A metal grate squeaks where it shouldn't, swinging light back and forth. An almost purposeful sound, like closing the door after you.

"Your pet of the week escaped." a man stated, hardly looking up over where he tinkered.

Papers and scrolls scattered, records across age and color. Maps. White, cream, brown, an ugly mix of makes and reports. Stacks of thick slabs, shiny sheets with fine lines engraved, bindings to hold the looser slips. The table could have been longer, but it still wouldn't have been enough to hold it all.

There were probably more people down here working, once. A whole meeting's mess worth. Not right now though, in the silence of the near darkness. Only a few small but powerful lamps artificially shined up the necessary corners. A utilitarian fixture hung, barely half lit. No windows in sight.

"Oh don't call him that. He's as much your nephew as he is mine." lounged a dress of red.

The dress was attached to a woman, thankfully. Fully clothed, though the opposite was also an option. Her hair pinned up in a way that was both elaborate and utterly messy. She looked like she was enjoying herself. Utterly debauched, always a bit drunk, and rolling about making a horrid mess in her little brother's basement.

Well, that was one way of looking at it. It was a very….elaborate basement, deep and layered. Some would have called it a dungeon.

"And that should matter how? Nevermind because I don't care.….And get off that." the Lord of said basement shooed her off.

It didn't take much, for the objects were a tad sharp and very uncomfortable to rest the flesh on. Even if one could manipulate their body and senses, still wasn't very nice. Just because you could, doesn't mean you should.

"Oh don't be such a soggy clump of feathers. We don't have that many cute kids between us in the family." Valentia rubbed her bottom in the flash of pain and soreness.

"That's your problem. Go breed and make some. Then that will be Mother's problem." Frederick suggested bluntly.

"Now, now, let's not get into crazy talk! I'm the fun, fashionable and cool aunt Pipa! Not….a mother." a grown woman shivered in the fear and disgust of a child.

"There are plenty enough brats in the cursed next generation, even without keeping the illegitimates like pet monkeys. Isn't there Gemma's?" he didn't mind her, checking for damages.

"They aren't carrying the Bicchieri name. We only have TWO...legally. Besides, you know how Gemma got after marriage! I hardly know her anymore. And her children, the horrors, don't get me started, such prissy little blonds. Ugh! They're worse than little Philippe and he's all Oceane's son." neither did she mind him back, too busy raving about whatever crossed her mind.

It was very easy to get lost if one didn't know what the hell she was talking about.

"Such discrimination. But again, that's our Mother's problem. Her precious heir and firstborn could have spread and sown an army of terrible new heirs, without any legitimacy issues, if she wasn't so blindly greedy to match and mine as she did. "

"Hey hey hey now, Tita da Montefeltro is Mother's most favorite inbred daughter in law." Valentia defended nobly. That was all she got.

"She's her only heavily inbred daughter in law." Frederick remarked without a spare beat. Unimpressed.

There were reasons he kept away from his family, primarily that they were his family. But apparently that was not enough to keep that breed of trouble away from coming to him. That and his beloved wife's horrible love of entertaining and embracing anything with open arms.

He quite likes their isolation from the hub of society, and their border patrols. But how could Maria say no to honored guests? Especially from her darling husband's relations, deny them he may. Why if the old Bicchieri matriarch ever humbled herself to come knocking, Lady Ventrella would be beside herself with hugs, kisses and declarations of grand parties.

Thankfully, Maria Helia Ventrella was infamously the Matriarch Bicchieri "least" favorite daughter in law. So there was little chance of that happening.

"That we know of!?" Valentia waved her hands in the air, hinting at conspiracies and nonsense.

Though the last time Valentia tried to investigate that, especially regarding her only other close in law, the middle brother of the Bicchieris had her shipped out the manor in a dowry bathtub of holy water and caviar.

This was a story Frederick did not ask nor care for, despite Valentia's unwelcome but passionate complaints.

"Remind me again, why you're even here." he gestured to the table she was crushing the paperwork and evidence on.

That livened her up if she wasn't already. Like a cat high on the bait of something with nip in it. Her dark eyes appeared like the pupils had blown out.

"So cruel. So incredibly cruel to be keeping such fun to yourself. I could kill you." she leaned in, a sinister smile, hard whites showing beneath the frame of thick red lipstick.

"This is no fun and games." Frederick signed by blocking her attempts to be intimidating with a thick folder. If he presses hard enough, he suspects there might be a whole mask imprint of Valentia's face.

"Oh yessssss it is. Such fun. Such secrets. To think you've been keeping it to yourself the whole time. Oh oh oh, are the rumors true. Did Aishwarya really climb high up into the bed of-"

"She's dead." he stopped her bluntly.

".....well….that's ...obvious." Valentia awkwardly played with her hair.

She didn't ask how. Even if Frederick knew, he most likely wouldn't just tell her either.

A silence that was even more painfully awkward to one of them prevailed. There wasn't much background ambience to an isolated dungeon of all things. It was then that she swiped up whatever poked her back and butt to death earlier.

Nothing but some jewels and a box….they had their sharp parts though, she'll give them that.

"Careful with those." Frederick stated, unimpressed.

But neither did he treat them very gently either. A little too frustrated. Like a puzzle long past the point of finding amusing. A sort of very dreaded work, that one just wanted done and over with.

"They're hers?" Valentia played with them, letting the foreign metal and beads clank around.

"Hmmm." Frederick didn't even nod, the minor inclination in his tone an acceptable answer to all who knew him well enough.

"And they're spelled, ooooooh. What do they do? What goodies are in here?" she shook the box next, only to scream a bit when it popped open easily.

"I could tell you to be careful around an active volcano and you would still dive in. Do send an invite for your imminent future funeral." Frederick mocked.

Someone was dying in his 'maternal' family, eventually. Just a matter of who first. There was a lot of money put into some very illegal bets. Personally Frederick would bet his own mother, but something told him he was losing money long term on that. Such a sad joke. Valentia however was a rather safe bet of disaster.

Death was just a matter of fact to people like them. A matter of life itself.

"What's in here? Tiny baby shrunk things?" Valentia didn't mind it.

Rather, she focused on squinting up close at a little glass container with what could be the smallest flecks of earrings that she had ever seen. Then tossed that back in the box to observe and play with a short chain of gold with a small thin bar, thinner than even the nail on her pinky.

"Hmmm." Frederick once again ignored her, especially when it was all thinking out loud at this point. The correct conclusions already in plain sight.

"Oh this, this is definitely spelled. Complicated too, being so tiny, no wonder you haven't broken into them yet." the older woman exclaimed, holding the little chain bracelet up to catch light.

"Could you?"

"Of course not!" she admitted shamelessly, interest high. " It's the kid's isn't it? Oh fancy fancy, Aishwarya packed the baby with so many mystery goodies. Shame it's here and not there."

The corner she glanced at was dark and flat. Essentially a wall in the reinforced metal and thick stones. The shine of something gleaming reflected.

Glass.

A glass viewing window. Completely clear here, yet looking from the other side would keep one blind to what went on across the screen.

It was even darker in that locked room across the glass. Lights out. A large black rope of scales and flesh radiating a bit of warmth and comfort in its sleep. Especially the fact it wasn't interested in eating you. If you stared closer in the wrap of the giant snake, you may even see the peek of little limbs. A dozing child, catching what little rest possible.

"Already taken or stolen off his person even before I got to them." the cruel owner tapped, taking off one leather glove to pinch the strain in between his eyes away.

"How horrible. A pampered baby birdie from the caged gardens of paradise, thrust into this hovel without a single cent, completely beaten and stolen from. A life without money. I would just die, ugh." she shuddered at the mere thought of poverty, playing with the cleaned jewels in her hand.

As if that was the worst thing in the world, the lack of money.

"He doesn't know how to open them. I've personally questioned, played, mind cut and bleed his blood over them. Still didn't work. That following maid needs work but….he dismally doesn't know. Do you know what that means?" Frederick took the tiny jewels out of her absent hands, locking them back into place for protection.

His exposed hand grazed the tiny indistinguishable carved lines of the bracelet, creating an almost repetitive bumpy pattern on the bar.

"That an expensive pet flew the birdcage before it even learned to fly, it just barely learned how to sing!" she declared her words as if reciting poetic justice.

Her voice was dramatic, concerned even but her grin, her fangs, bared in a bloody red smile. Eyes bright. Thoughts running. A tad hungry at this time of night, turned day.

Frederick tutted, allowing himself two seconds of an exasperated eye roll.

"No. Not that he can sing or even speak now." he stepped up to the cold glass, pressing the old tiny chain to it.

The afterimage of his reflection touched back. Then behind it, the sleeping figures. One too cold to move much in winter, brumating as various species of snakes do. The other, well…

Soft breathes, a still too small figure. Deceptively thin and weak. An uncomfortable metal lock kept heavy on the head, one more secure, more physical, kept his wretched mother's spells in check.

Can't hypnotize anyone or anything like that. Muzzle securely in place.

"It means," the Lord sighed, a load more of work loaded heavy into his gun, "that she sang to him."

The lady Bicchieri with too many last names added and forgotten grimaced, not fully following her brother's explanations.

"It means he's been wiped. Aishwarya worked her magic on him before she left. Too many spotty memories if not just gone. She's brain washed her own child."

The glass stared back.

Tired eyes blinked awake, hauntingly large behind their cage. A glazed dulled green. Too many questions, never enough answers. Seemingly weak hands hold him up, supporting a weight beyond the bounds and constraints.

The child looks up as if he can see them staring at him, across the two way glass.

Their eyes don't meet. They can't. But even so, there was nothing to see. Nothing new to learn. Just the same hauntingly blank eyes, blank mind.

"Well…..Shit." she knocked back.

For once, the fun and games are no longer so fun. She felt stumped.

"Tea?" the old butler asks, standing at the ready.

She falls off the table in a shriek. Always taken off guard by them, the butlers. Alfonso pours the steaming tea regardless, and the master goes right back to work.

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Do you ever have the sense something is greatly wrong, even though it looks perfectly normal on the surface?

That's what this morning felt like. That's what a lot of days are like.

It's a feeling that followed Rosalia for a very long time. Perhaps all her life originally? I don't know what she did with that. Or if she just spent a lifetime running away from it. To avoid feeling and facing it.

Maybe so. It wasn't a very long life after all.

If I was the real Rosalia, just an overwhelmed little girl, I may just run away again. Run away and avoid the uncomfortable truths that piled up. Hell, there were plenty of times in my own life as Meng, where I felt like doing just that. I can't call myself perfect or anything, but I sure got better than a very stressed-out 17 year old princess to be. I was older, so I should at least be able to tackle that much.

Nothing gets done with avoiding. Even if it feels like the safer route.

Unfortunately, this door is very good at blocking me and my attempts.

"Let me in! Father! Anyone!? Grrrrr! You can't keep this from me!" I bang angrily at the secret entrance.

Is it really secret when I know about it, to the extent of screaming my lungs out in front of it?

No. No, not really. But I have knocked and pried at every since dungeon spot, shady pathway, and even Father's three top most used offices. Nothing!

It's like I'm being ignored and left to tire myself out toddler style!

"Sillwy Rosa." my twin ball and chain laughs behind me.

"Very rich coming from you." I let out a sigh at her innocent giggles.

It's not only Lilyanne. No one seems to really recall what happened then. Last night, right after the last choir song. It hasn't been erased from their memories but it's.....inconsequential.

Father took me away that night. Nestled in the normally comforting hold, dark under his cloak, I couldn't see anything then but I could still hear. I wasn't dumb or deaf.

I heard the shuffles of our movements blur.

I heard the taps of codes and orders, reserved for the silent forces that I realize never fully served me.

Not with how much I don't know, even as the legitimate Rosalia. Always silently waiting for Alfonso's permission, in hidden messages and subtle cues, to carry out her word. Perhaps waiting for the day their true lord would return.

But that was then, as for now? Last night?

A calm. A lull so unnaturally calming, it could only have been magic. All before the explosions, fireworks shooting off in the sky. I could almost feel them sparking above us all.

The last thing I really heard was my Grampa's laugh, loud and blaring.

If the fireworks didn't wake everyone up in a scarred shock, then surely that did. It sounded like a finale. It sounded like a show. That must be how it was covered up. How no one really knows. They think it's nothing but another crazy show.

It's a shame that it wasn't magic holding me back. Just cloth and the strength of a normal adult male.

As normal as someone as suspicious as my Lord Father could be that is.

"You really don't remember anything?" I turn to my twin sister, even though I know it's futile.

I've asked this very same question too many times just in the span of one nothing. Not a single answer satisfied me.

"Lily remembers! We had so much fun and then Lily sang best and everyone was happy and and and then...nap nap! Smelled like papa." she speaks with such confidence, sticking a little thumb out.

It's useless talking to anyone, let alone Lilyanne.

"Thank you very much for nothing, sister dear."

"You welcomes!" Lilyanne blurts, then continues to giggle and flop along the wall.

She seems to think my constant knocking and screaming threats is a game. Though I'm sure that's exactly what the guards monitoring this are thinking.

If only I could get through.

It's most likely where my minion is locked up, deep down the not-so-secret dungeons. But the more pressing concern is... why?

I'm not getting any answers just rolling around our bedroom. The adults are either all too busy cleaning up after the festival for me to hunt down or just lock me up to avoid the matter. Trust me. I am well on my way back to Father's offices.

Maybe if I destroy enough things in them, he'll finally pay proper attention to me?

"Sillwy Rosa," Lilyanne actually has the audacity to not only keep teasing but to grab my hand, pulling as she starts to walk the entirely wrong way.

I would pull back but she's surprisingly strong. I can't pull away at all?! Or is it just fat and she's too heavy to fight off? Hmmm either way my strength really is too pitifully lacking.

Too weak to stand up for myself.

Too weak to find out anything. To be trusted.

Even too weak to be fighting off a Lilyanne? So that's not saying much.

Still, I just can't take it, laying down doing nothing. If that was the case, just give me a time skip until I get to a somewhat useful age and phase of my life.

But life doesn't work that way.

I'm only four and there are already this many headaches. An uncountable number of many more are just waiting behind the curtains. The biggest of them all being my own family.

Lilyanne drags me down the halls, practically skipping. The overlooked heroine, still too young to start her story. Our small interlaced hands are warm, not sticky yet, and seemingly exactly the same.

They're still exactly the same, soft and pristine.

Mine aren't riddled with small work calluses and scars, healed with the best money could buy in this world. That and my holy maid of a sister's frustrated efforts. The bent joints are still small, pristine, adorably perfect.

Hers aren't so thin yet. So frail they were sharp at points. Her delicate nails aren't so prettily painted, covering up how yellow and brittle they can turn. That one writer's callus on her middle finger has yet to form.

Living with these memories isn't easy.

That's why I try not to think about it if it's not necessary. It's just, my mind has an uncontrollable sense of what's important or not. What comes up in my memory...or not.

I should snap out of it and focus on the present.

Which is finding a way down to the dungeons, at least confirming where Amar could be kept.

Now that's a memory that will always come back blank, since it never happened. The whole adopting minions from scratch thing. The new faces, the people that I never seen or met before. Even the buildings and remodeling that differentiates my own house from the one in my memories.

Most prominently the employee's quarters and annex apartment buildings. Because they're right in front of me.

"What are we doing here?" I must have blanked out and let Lily drag me wherever she so pleases.

Since the nursery maids were scarred off ahem I mean, reprimanded by Mother a few days ago, things have been pretty lax. Something the previously sheltered Lilyanne must appreciate greatly, freely rolling around random points of the property like it's all her backyard. Which it technically is.

"Help Rosa." Lilyanne answers dumbly, as if I was supposed to infer the entirety of her strange thought process.

"How? These are the servant quarters? If you wanted to look for anyone, we should have just parked outside Alfonso's office. Hmmm, why didn't we do that? Oh right, because no one is around!" I huff at the indignation of our wandering morning.

When breakfast arrived in our bedroom, I stuffed myself as quickly as I could and made my way out to investigate. Not to anyone's surprise, Lilyanne followed me out. Since we're so lost with dead ends, I can't even get mad at her for 'slowing me down'.

There's nowhere to go until I can find my parents, Alfonso, or at least Grampa!

"Dum dum. Everybody helpies Lily and Rosa! Fonso's lots busy with mama and papa and aunties and bye-bye goats and no more party cheesies and-" Lily explains in her own way.

There goes the theory that twins have some kind of psychic bond. I can never quite understand her, even as a small child. I'm sure the feeling is, and always has been, mutual.

"Hello! Hewo! Heus! Buongiorno! Hi! A very berry good morning to you all, and if we shall not be so fortunate to meet again, then good afternoon, good evening, and good night... Hi Hi! Καλημέρα!" Lilyanne bobs her head in greetings.

Her free hand waved wildly to every passing employee. As usual, everyone loves her, greeting back with good wishes, offers of if she needs help, and happy waves back. As if a bright little sun has visited their courtyards to bless them all. Even if they're too to give more than a single hello back, the chorus adds up.

Meanwhile, I get limply dragged. Left wondering if I really heard words with more than three syllables leave my baby sister's mouth.

Did I....hear that wrong? Did I perhaps imagine all that in my crazed train of thoughts? Very likely.

"Ta da!" Lilyanne declares again, after leading us all the way inside and up a set of stairs. The servants, who she lured to escort us, opening up all the doors.

"Anything else for the young misses?" they half bow.

"Door! Pwease!" Lily points to the block of wood in front of us, indicating for them to ram and break it in.

At least she said please.

Luckily the servants aren't that blind, devoted or dumb. They simply knock on the door and ask if whoever is inside is decent. It's a lot better than destroying a perfectly good door. Those things aren't cheap to install!

Said door opens to a very tired-looking sleep deprived young man.

"Huh? What? Did we need more porridge?"

No. No, I do not need more porridge? I need answers and the safe, easy return of my minion, YESTERDAY!

But there is no way of saying that and we really can't blame the employees. I can however tiredly glance over to my sister. Whose brilliant idea seems to be to barge into Porridge Otaku's room for some odd reason.

She's of no help at all. What was I even expecting?

"Ta-da! Your homewrecker's beddy!" she runs over to a certain side of the room, pulling me with her.

I can see how it's a clearly divided sort of dorm room, with a nice breeze and view down from the window once the wooden blinds are open.

The personal private space is the most luxurious thing about the modest room, being made for two people instead of the much more packed bunks in the lower dorms. Something only more full time employees who put in the hours and receive enough recommendation can bump out of.

After all, it's not like they all live here full time. Enough employees live locally, especially with the regular wagon buses making transportation more easily accessible now.

A dorm share or bunks tends to be enough, especially when rotating with the night shift. I do know that 4 and 8 person rooms are also available? Those even numbers. Let's not get into who or what are the qualifications for a private room or not.

"When you say, 'your homewrecker'?..." I pat at the neat bed sheets that Lily has pulled me up to. She herself, trying to jump and bounce up and down it.

Tough luck there. Sturdy, flat, and just a little soft cushion right on the top. The quality is neither particularly bad nor good. It looks to almost match the one across the room, where Po the porridge otaku has messily just rolled out of. But there are these little touches that clearly separate him and his roommate.

This side is clearly cleaner. Without any sacks of grain, or the many varieties of pots or jars over there. Why…. there's even a mortar and pestle in the bedroom?

Here smells faintly of rosewater and witch hazel, dried thyme and rosemary, a lot of my soaps, and the slightly burnt scent of freshly ironed laundry. Also, the wardrobe and coat rack is bursting with clothes.

It's Georgie's.

"Yaaaay! Rosa so smarties. Good job. Wait for your homewrecker. '' Lilyanne pats the side of my head in a mockery of what I do, before suddenly sniffing the air. "Is there cheeswies?"

The one dorm resident here blinks, as if trying to awaken enough to comprehend his situation. Either he gave up on sleep or decided it was a porridge-filled crack dream, the teenaged employee shrugs and starts to cook a mini pot of porridge.

Yes, right here in the bedroom.

Yes, there is cheese on the other side's cluttered shelf of ingredients.

"I suppose waiting for my little assistant is the best method? Really? What's the point of even having parents of power?" I sigh.

"Too much power! Mama and papa and all grown ups too busy. Mama says so." Lilyanne swings her little legs off the edge of the bed.

"I still like my plan of breaking Father's things until he pays attention to my demands much better." I flop down.

But I suppose this is the easier way. I wasn't exactly getting anywhere all morning. Maybe I can poke Georgie to find things out for me, or at least directly report to Alfonso.

It's just anxious work. Waiting around tires a lady out very frustratingly so.

That's why even on someone else's bed, I feel so pooped out.

A little rest can't hurt. Even if it guilts me that a minion of mine could be in some strange scary situation. There's nothing much I can do, so it doesn't make sense to run myself down for no leads.

"If you're looking for Georgie, he should be back in ....." Po squints and pokes his head outside the window, judging the sun and the shadow of the sundial, "huh, I have no idea. But *yawn* someone left to look for him."

Then he goes right back to stirring like it's two brats he's making instant breakfast for and not the noble young misses of this land.

A servant like this that's too absorbed into his own obsessions is quite lacking in the proper respect department. But it's not particularly an issue. Can't be helped with otakus, no matter what the world. That and we barged into his room rudely, during some catch up beauty sleep too. I too would hate my manager or bosses to death for that.

I busy myself then, and my weak tummy that's hungry again, with fluffing up Georgie's sleeping quarters.

He could use more pillows in this place. It's quite sad compared to what I see him comfortably clutching around my quarters and workrooms.

Hmmm, I see. Something that I take as a necessity is still regarded as a hard to afford luxury. More pillows. Maybe better drawers. We can design the dorms even better to save space. Now that I'm seeing the servants' personal quarters, I am getting so many ideas.

Wait, snap out of it. Amar!

In the first place, we're here to wait for Georgie and save my minion. He's a very stupid though painfully tough child, so hold on a bit longer wherever you are.

For now, my stomach is making funny sounds and that instant porridge isn't quite done. Just redesigning George's room is more than enough to keep my mind busy off the scary thoughts.

Perhaps flatter baskets to store things under the bed? Hmmm, and that tiny table is lacking the space and organization for all his skincare and paperwork. Does the accounting department have spare desks? And a vain boy like my Georgie doesn't have a single proper mirror? Well, they are expensive to even nobility, let alone the common populace.

Hmm, which ones do I have in my purse that go with the decor theme here?

"Dat one." Lily points from the ones I pulled out.

"Curtains?" I display.

"Dat one!" she selects again.

"Fuzzy rugs stolen from grampa's rooms." I roll out.

"Hmmm dat one. "

Strange green roll of moss it is, shame I was feeling the tiger print.

That is how we kept ourselves amused. Right till Georgie comes bursting in, panting and all.

"What are you doing here?!" Georgie gulps for air, looking like he sprinted here.

"Decorating!" Lilyanne answers, though she quickly gets distracted when the porridge is ready.

Nothing lures Lily away like cheese. I swear it was a secret weapon that the shittiest of harem boys used once they figured it out.

"Ahem." I clear my throat and take a higher seat up on the bed, crossing my little legs. "Is that how you address your generous noble mistresses?"

"....Ooooooh wonderful generous noble young ladies, Rosalia, why are you in my room!? ...Are you guys alright? What's going on that you came all the way here? It's not just to play..." Georgie recovers his breath a bit before plopping down to check my temperature.

He's just as disrespectful as usual but when it comes down to it, I guess his heart is in the right place. To be able to tell...but that's not enough. Far from it.

"Amar was taken. Last night. The part no one remembers. I think Father is holding him in the dungeons and I heard nothing about what's going on or anything like that and there were chains I'm sure of it or a cage or something and it sounded awful and I don't understand why or -"

"Whoa whoa, breathe Rosalia. Breathe and tell me. What happened and what do you need me for? Let's go over it." Georgie tries.

Babbling, only babbling comes out of me.

I thought I was going to be able to clearly state my orders. But in the end, I can't even control myself. I wish I could blame it on this young body, but there's only so much blaming something else can do.

"Do you remember anything at all? At the festival last night. The choir show. And the end? What do you remember?" I shakily ask.

I'm frustrated.

I'm frustrated with how I woke up like it was every day. Where nothing was wrong. How everyone around me seemed to happily go about their days, not noticing anything amiss. How the people behind it all, and the people who are supposed to be my guardians, are never physically or emotionally available enough to even douse the anxieties inside me. How I really can't trust anyone after all. No one...

I'm frustrated that I even worry. I have enough on my plate, no need to bother with anyone else. So how could I let it affect me so much?

A long sigh comes out of Georgie above me, "Po, hand me the porridge. Rosa's portion."

"Uhhh sure. Should I even be here?"

"Nah, it's your room too. You always half zone out when you cook anyways. Take care of the younger Miss Lilyanne. Feed her slowly and maybe scam your way to more ingredients." Georgie thanks and waves him off.

Then it's the spoon in front of my face.

"You think better when you have something in your stomach. Come on, open up." The original babysitter comes out.

"I can feed myself." I grumble, but let myself be babied and fed.

A little too puffed up mad to do much besides opening and closing my mouth. How convenient, I grumpily allow this much pampering.

"Of course you can, good girl. Let's get half way down at least? Isn't it delicious? I think Po is using contraband grains and cheese but don't tell anyone. I have to live with him most of the week." Georgie talks on and on like usual, a sense of normalcy in this mess.

I know he's doing it on purpose. I appreciate it even if I don't say it out loud. Besides, my mouth is a little busy getting force-fed baby mush. Mmmm squash and cheese.

"If you ask me what I remember about the end of last night, I can't give you a simple answer. A lot of things happened. It was a big festival, your blessed birthday, and many people let out, let loose, and had fun. I myself probably did a few things I shouldn't have. Lots of dancing. Lots of messy shenanigans...." his pause followed with an awkward cough, the kind that says that's a story for another day.

I munch on and let him talk.

"I remember the children's choir, of course, I do. I even had a few engravers on stand-by to capture your cutest moments. That spotlight. Wow. Talk about fancy. Shame you didn't go up to sing, especially in the outfits I picked out, but then Lukas and Lily started screaming like chickens to the slaughter so maybe that was for the best. I do remember, thinking about how surprised I was at how good you kids were. How beautiful it got at the end. Like I was being tucked in by my mom as a child again. It felt....almost magical, how touching it was. I expected the performance to be cute but wow, that was....surprisingly wonderful... how beautiful the voices sounded." He trails off again, spoon lingering in my mouth.

Somehow I don't think the surprise in the children choir's quality change had anything to do with how hard all the kids worked at practice.

Sorry children. A sleeper hit was hiding among you all.

"Then before I knew it, major fireworks went off giving me a frightful heart attack! Clamored and knocked quite a few people around me over. But it sure was spectacular. As expected of the old Lord Ventrella for playing with people's senses like that." Georgie laughs off, recounting his tale of last night's events.

"There was a blackout." comes an unexpected add-on.

Po raised a spoon, speaking only when our attention turned to him.

"I left early for kitchen work so I wasn't on site. But from what I saw in the distance, after the blue pond ripple fireworks and the music, there was a sudden blackout for a few minutes? I thought the show was over till the last loud fireworks went off." he mentions, going back to feeding my gluttonous sister.

That....that matches up.

The eerie quiet. The time with my Father and the cover up. The darkness. So it really did happen, I'm not just going crazy.

"So Rosalia, you're saying that something happened that no one remembered? That they took Amar? Again?" Georgie sums up, cleaning my mouth with a napkin.

"Not again. Not like this. They just took him. Father and his hidden guards. It was so sudden and forceful." I don't reveal everything.

If they don't know or remember those shady details, then it's best not to reveal them so casually.

Georgie is right on one thing though, I do think better with something in my tummy.

"Father took us back last night. I'm not sure what happened but another kid is probably a lot more scared than I am. This morning, I couldn't find anyone to help me. Not my parents, definitely not the guards. Don't even mention Grampa....The employees say they're all very busy but that's no answer. Something bad has happened, and this isn't the right response. I need help, Georgie. I need your help to find out what's going on and make it right. " I am not begging, a lady does not beg, but my worries might make it sound a bit similar.

"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better, enough to tell me. Thank you. We'll do what we can. I definitely can't get anyone into the dungeons, but we'll go to the main administrative offices and ask together." Georgie comforts reasonably.

Oh right. The administration offices are on the same floor as the accounting department. They should be able to at least record my complaints. If not, I can at least make hell for employees. Surely, Father wouldn't like me spreading rumors of child kidnapping and torture. Why didn't I think of that earlier?

Well, I would have figured it out eventually, maybe after lunch....and destroying Father's offices.

"That sounds like a decent plan...let's go!...And keep the tip." I hop off and spin around the newly redecorated dorm room, especially Georgie's side.

I even threw the porridge otaku a few pillows since he's here. The world needs more pillows. No worries, I still have plenty, more than enough to fill a dungeon in case someone can't get out.

Now off your butts and to action. Even you Lilyanne. Grab a cheesy porridge bowl to go and onwards we go.

Or so I start to step out, only to knock my nose right at the door. Owie.

The door opens, seemingly untouched but for injuring my face. A cold dryness seems to suck the fresh air and drop the temperature in the room.

"You may not be able to get down there but I can." states the intruder, sounding even dryer than the dead air her presence imposes.

I rub my nose and look up, up, up and up at the scary maid. At only half a head taller than my Georgie, Cass and her displeasure seem to tower over us all. The messy but casually comforting atmosphere in this dorm takes on sudden darkness.

"Uhhhh...." Georgie responds very smartly.

Before he can gather his wits to ask what she means or complain why everyone is gathering in his dorm room, like his stupefied face says he's thinking, Cass silences him with the overwhelming pressure of her dark glare.

"I...have had a very pleasant evening at the all-inclusive stay of the various interrogation units. What a shame my time is up. I shall require your presence." there's more than just a warning in her voice.

"Well. I was going to take Rosalia to the administration office, maybe -" Georgie starts, or tries to.

"Good idea. I am surprised." Cass curtly cuts him off as she picks me up.

"Uh, for what may I ask? I'm so lost here." Georgie admits, hand weakly raised in the air.

"This one shall be used as a bargaining chip. Her frightening barks yet delicate position shall be an effective fear in leveraging this estate. I will give you 180 sand grains to get ready. My patience is as full as a starving man's broken rice jar." Cass's grip on me tightens, securing me very well in her arms.

Down below, my sister gasps.

"Lily too!" she toddles stupidly to cling to Cass's leg. Something Cass takes in with the acceptance of getting a buy one get one free sale.

Wonderful. Now, we are BOTH hostages. I haven't been a hostage in years.

Whatever Georgie's internal thoughts are, he keeps them to himself seeing how the mood is the very opposite of a laughing matter.

"Ok..." he responds, slowly gathering his things before turning to the only dumb and innocent bystander in this.

"I saw and heard nothing! It was all a dream. Going right back to sleep after this! I dreamt a pillow fairy attacked and left me like this." Po states, raising both his hands up in arrest.

Cass rolls her eyes as she turns to walk away. Meanwhile, Georgie hurriedly makes his apologies to his roommate, promising to make up for whatever this is another time.

"Wait wait wait." Lilyanne turns back around.

She runs back to steal a porridge bowl to go, then just as quickly toddles back. Her little feet obediently followed behind Cass's legs. What a great hostage.

Reminder to myself to never let her near-strangers, candy carriages, or any signs of a kidnapping. She'll think it's a fun trip and be taken so easily. No defenses.

Rich coming from me, I know. But this hostage situation is as good as any other plans for me.

"You said you were interrogated? When did the guards take you...and for what?" I look up, noticing the dark circles of the young woman carrying me.

The slight shadows on her face tell how much she hasn't slept. A sternness to her jaw, the unsmiling line of her tired pale lips. She must have been worried, far more so than me. But there's something else I need to confirm. Was she affected? Does she remember?

"You are a strange one." Cass speaks without looking at me, her steps quick and steady in leading through the villa.

A curious stare is the only response I have. I am still waiting for hers. My body's habit of shouting and demanding does nothing here.

"Magic does not easily affect you, young miss. That much is clear, even if the contents of your family line are far from it. There is more than a simple resistance. It is empty and draining, but not impossible to spell you. Yet you do not seem aware. It is the result of your youth and shelter." she states duly. As if listing out chores rather than frightening observations that no sane maid should make.

"Did you try to use your powers on me? Whatever it is, it's not dirt-related at all. How was it?" I cling to her, stabilizing my hold.

With arms so small and short, I'm unable to choke anyone. My weight is also insufficient to be much of a threat. I think we both know that.

"....a strange one indeed. Contradicting and weak. How blessed you are then, young Miss Ventrella."

I can't say I know much of anything really about Cass. She's not even one of my official or unofficial babysitters. Only a strange chance of a minion of my minion, thus my very own minion included. I cannot say I am close to her. But for her to avoid using my name, she must be very angry at this household.

I don't think I can judge her though.

When I keep silent, staring, long enough, she finally gives me crumbs of the answers I want.

"Last night. Right as it started affecting the children. I saw the signs. Then was grabbed and silenced. There are things we do not all speak of, do not need to. But last night, they finally lost patience. Your side needed more of my story. What I can tell. It is not a good story to tell anyone. "

"You didn't fall asleep?" was my conclusion, my question.

This time when Cass looks at me, it's with a wry smile and something beneath the curtains of her dark eyes. I dare say it was almost fond.

"If I was taken down by just that, I would not be able to die in peace." she quipped in all honesty.

I'm not sure what to make of that, other than that she knows. She knows all the background that we don't, enough to make her a personal guest of the interrogations units if not my Father's own office.

I don't think I'm exaggerating to say that my Father seems to take an unnatural interest in this case.

Him. The cold calculative face paralysis suffering workaholic nerd. It almost seems personal in some way, and not the fun kind. His dislike of my minions, but Amar in particular, exceeds his usual dislike of humanity.

Let's go over the not yet refuted knowledge I do know, overheard and inferred.

There is a big bad scary foreign harem drama somewhere out there.

The harem specialty is making brain-damaged poison-eating, bleeding babies like Amar. While employing very scary ladies maids like that one carrying me now. They know each other, maybe too well.

Even when I first met him, Amar has been living orphaned in a place not made for children. As much as I complain, that is not the purpose of the troops. Not everyone gets in, far from it.

So how did such a small child? One so far from his home, alone?

"Does he really resemble his mother?" my mouth moves before I can think about it.

Or maybe I've already long thought about it. In the box of evidence I keep in my head.

I hit a sore spot. I know. You can feel it in the air, though Cass holds me just as well, her steps just as even and smooth. A real professional. I've always tried to be less insensitive but this isn't the time to be watching feelings. Besides, the one I'm worried about most isn't even around.

"Wait up!" Georgie scrambles behind us, catching up.

Cass does not slow, even in her response.

"...In the ways that matter. Yes. In all the ways that matter and more." she almost sounds like she struggles, finding the words for it.

There was a lady once for the maid to serve, and now that lady is long gone. Only a child left alone. That is all she has left it seems. Left from a long and painful journey from there to here.

It is a story that she is obviously not ready to tell.

I wonder how the interrogations went. Like pulling teeth I imagine.

"People talk about her a lot in the troops or whatnot, but not really. Amar's mom. Mentions of this or that. Even by the bad guys. Like they knew her." I mumble, a bit miffed.

So much little evidence gathered, no confirmation. How tough it is for me. When will I get access to my own guards and reporting agency? Sheesh, then it wouldn't be such a pain to even verify the littlest things.

"I suppose they could have. Back when she was active in this land and organization. Back before....well, this servant wasn't ever here. It is not my place to speak as if I know."

"You know a lot more than I do." I point out.

"Of course I do. You are merely a babe. I am approaching an old maid. If I was so lacking, I might as well have been dead."

Very encouraging but I don't recall any modern person of this age being so capable and frightening. But then again, I don't think I was involved with any real-life conspiracies or murderers.

"Is that what happened then? Someone was lacking? So they died?" Someone died, I know that much.

And if I know my harem dramas, there's plenty more where that came from.

"....we are all lacking in the eyes of the gods. Death can take us all at any time. We simply fight it till we can no longer. It is not a thing for the treasured eldest young miss Ventrella to fear, not for a very long time." Cass finally forces out.

Ha! Shows what little you know.

Though Cass's grip is very steady and gentle, I get the feeling that not so deep down she wants to fling me out a window. Maybe it's because of my unexpected laugh. But I am a very good and compliant hostage otherwise. I just have a shit mouth, especially when tired and angry. Sorry, not sorry.

Blame this body's Father?

No matter what evidence or conclusions, all things can source back to the fault of a very shady Lord Father. Who was given his authority in this family and territory by the patriarch? This means….everything is Grampa's fault somehow!

Great deduction, me!

"What are you going on about now Rosa. Don't be rude. And pardon but the administrative offices are that way?" Georgie catches up to us, weighed down by too many things.

Maybe he's been traumatized from looking after me and my sudden disappearing adventures, but he's taken to carrying a bit too much stuff in an effort to always be prepared. A briefcase sling bag for one. Yes, the lovely man bag.

I will make it a hit yet.

Georgie is right though, I didn't notice it earlier but we are certainly not heading to the accounting or administrative section of the villa anymore.

Am I really being held hostage here? Kidnapped? Hmmm, maybe I shouldn't be provoking dubiously sourced maids with scary magic while in their possession?

"Lilyanne, you still good down there? " I look down.

"Nom nom, yep yep." she sticks quite well below.

"Great, if something goes wrong in this hostage situation. Zap zap out of here, ok?"

"Okay dokey!"

Neither Cass nor Georgie look very amused at how bad hostages my sister and I make.

But that's their problem. Not mine.

"If we're not heading to the offices, does that mean we're really breaking into the dungeons after all?" I turn back to ask.

"What?! You're not serious?" Georgie sputters, pointing wildly.

I stare at the scary maid, admittedly far more competent than all my current servants combined, and wonder if she ever jokes. So far I have yet to see evidence of such. Thus, no.

But there are more important things. Like breaking into dungeons and making Father mad! I'll fix things later, my own selfish interests come first.

"Wonderful! Do you know which part? No? Anyways, let's just go. I like efficiency." I snap my fingers onwards.

Unfortunately, we do not heroically burst down underground to free any crying swooning brain-damaged minions to the point of gratefully declaring their eternal loyalty and all their future money. Quite the opposite really.

We hit a bush.

Specifically, we swing by a very precise large bush in my southern gardens. It's very confusing why. Something that Georgie voices out in complaint for me. Right till another voice is heard from inside said bushes.

"Whatcha doing, Big Rosa?! That doesn't look like much fun. I remember when I got all sick and had to take medicine like that. It was worse than being sick and throwing up bacon. But then Cap said it was like training but I don't know how much awesome training being a worm is. I'm the best at it though! "

Finding a wild blabbering Lukas on my property, even in a random bush waving a stick, is no big deal.

Finding a wild Lukas, in a bush, poking a tied up suspiciously red-haired older child however is a very big deal. What is Cosimo doing here like that?!

"What is going on!?!" thankfully Georige is here to voice out everything for me.

"It wasn't me!" Lukas waves up his poking stick.

My cousin, Cosimo, makes a strange sort of noise, presumably in bound and gagged confirmation. His wild wiggling at us tells a different story.

While it's hard not to judge, of course it's not Lukas. That hyper snowball can't even properly tie his own shoes, let alone a person. Impossible.

"This servant caught it lurking around near many potential dungeon entrances and decided to keep it here for safe keeping. It may have provided a useful bargaining chip if I was unable to locate any other suitable persons." Cass explains, as if that's a very good and normal reason to bound, tie and hide a 10 year old in a bush.

Why is this world so messed up?

"What is WRONG with you?!!!? That's a child?! You don't just tie up -...just what?!" once again, Georgie speaks up, doing more than just nagging.

Rehashing my own thoughts exactly. All without a single word or magical physic thought transfer from me, though the latter is impossible. Still, wonderful job my little teenaged jr. assistant.

Cosimo, forcibly playing a worm or snake right now glares up, but doesn't waste energy to fight his bounds. His grumpy expression alone, silently demanding that he be freed.

Sorry sorry. Uh….hang on a bit?

"Nevermind with you, I just can't. Here, just give me a minute." Georgie sighs, red in the face from ranting and other frustrations that go dismissed by the older woman.

He shoos Lukas off to the side and prevents Lily from joining the bullying poking.

Right as he bends to cut off the ties, a small cutter in his hands, it's as if something invisible stops him. Bounces him back even. The air is suddenly still and dry, unnaturally so.

"Contrary to some of your common opinion, that red 'child' was not so easy to catch. Nor do I appreciate being berated by a child such yourself. One who knows nothing, barely grown enough to grow peach fuzz, and just as soft as the fruit." Cass sounds just as tired in an entirely different way. One that rattles deep with her low voice.

"I know none of this is ok, even with whatever vaguely fake superior reasons you make up. You can't just expect people to just follow along and be fine with it?! Whatever it is you're doing...let me and the kid, our guest, go right now." Georgie sounds a bit past a certain point, ready to spill in a tone I'm not used to hearing from him.

Things are getting tenser by the second.

"Yes. Of course,I will listen to the useless know nothing boy getting in my way more than he is of use. Let us go ask the pages and scribes who know even more nothing, very nicely of course, and all get along over blood stained tea." Cass seems just as amused back.

"I've had it up to here with your attitude? You're just as messed up as the rest of them. Don't think just because you have a bit more experience and some nonsense abilities that you can treat anyone like less than dirt, act like we're all stupider than you or expect that we just blindly follow because you say soo-"

Georgie's ranting hot words cut off in a shriek.

The hand that was outreached to try to free the boy in the ground was repelled even stronger. His pent up animosity directed towards Cass rises, quite literally. Twitching in the air, the tips of his toes leave the ground.

"You were saying?" Cass does not smile, annoyed without a trace of it physically showing.

Georgie's red face turns even redder, darker. Something beyond anger and frustration at being silenced. Dark red begins to take a purple tinge, his face swelling.

As if he can't breathe, choked out. His leather shoes dangling, fighting weakly against nothing he can reach. Red and purple, losing air.

No.

No, Georgie!?

"No! Let him down!" I scream, grasping at Cass.

"Georgie! I got you!" Lukas runs and jumps, intent on pulling Georgie down.

All that does though is have Lukas hang onto the bottom of his legs. Doing effectively nothing despite all his supernatural strength and efforts.

This sort of this, this power. It's definitely not some bullshit like moving earth. Definitely not. But it's Cass, it's all her alright.

Dry air.

A space of dry air.

It's the one thing that's followed her today, whenever things felt strange. Though I can't see it, I definitely can't identify what it is, I have to try. I grasp at her body and push with my useless tiny arms. Hoping, praying that despite the lack of strength, I can do something.

Her magic. Make it stop. Make it go away. Stop it, stop it, stop!

"No!" I push whatever is or is not in me out, blowing it away.

It feels like a fragile candy bubble around me pops, cracked and dissolving.

Both Georgie and Lukas fall to the ground with a painful thud, partially landing on the emotionless tied up boy. They gasp and groan, but it's Georgie that heaving, taking in much needed air. His face thankfully returns to normal as Lukas cries relieved on his lap.

"You...are a very inconvenient sort of danger." Cass expresses, still holding me steady in her arms.

It's my turn to shake, even though my magic is choking the air out of me. Shakes in fear and frustration. But dark eyes and ever more judgement makes me clench my nerves uncomfortably.

"I know. I know it's wrong, whatever my family did or happened to Amar. I'm sorry, I'm looking for him too. But you can't do that to Georgie, to anyone just trying to help. I won't allow it." I try not to hiccup or cry.

Scary.

This person is definitely on the list of too scary.

Everyone and everything here is terrifying under it all.

"That's it." Georgie huffs, recovering his breath.

It doesn't take much air though to press whatever alarm on his person. A little click of a certain switch on a tiny device, hidden all this time.

Just like the guards that drop and surround us.

Two are suddenly behind Georgie, helping steady him. One frees Cosimo, but only partially. Four more surround the maid keeping me hostage.

"No zap zap run." my sister complains, suddenly appearing in the arms of another masked guard that must have caught her.

I didn't even notice she was gone. Or when she ran off.

"Finally calling the guards? The ones that your poor young miss couldn't find to open a door?" Cass sneers.

That...that's correct?

My Jr. assistant was given permission to call and use the guards like this? Really? When? And why didn't he pull it out earlier?

Why?

Doesn't he know I need it, need that kind of help?

"Georgie?" I feel myself asking, but what.

What am I even asking in the vague call of his name?

"Rosalia. Can you get down? The guards will definitely help." he tries to smile comfortingly at me, tries. The hoarse fear trembles in his voice.

"I am so glad then, you are beginning to take a mere outside maid, such as I, not like a fool. They have followed us for long, at least two on your tail, and yet you play dumb. Like for children." Cass drolls in response, sounding almost bored.

"That was before you magically choked me to asphyxiation and tied a damn kid up. Nothing makes wrongs a right. Let go of the young miss, at once. This, you, are not welcome here. " Georgie sounds pissed.

"Oh do wisen up. It is very inconvenient to fight with your young miss here. Mostly so like that. She is like a hungry ball of xeric moss. Drinking it all in till it's fat. Very inconvenient to use any magic of any sort. I am far more handicapped with her than without. You must know that, despite your useless lack of abilities."

"I'm not playing or arguing with you. Return the young miss and maybe the guards won't lock you up too inhumanely for kidnapping and attempted murder in broad daylight. "

"Return the child you have taken first. The one kept locked and caged like a wild sample to be dissected. Your people have done that enough. More than enough." she hisses accusingly, finally letting something that matches up a bit to Georgie's rage.

"You people? That's enough. Please retrieve the young miss safely."

The clicks of the device in his hands have already given the orders to act.

For the guards to maybe save me from the scary lying maid.

The air stills when it should be sharp. I feel it far more intensely this time, to the point it makes me a little nauseous. An uncomfortable flutter and film, like being encased once more in that thin candy shell.

Like Cass said before, implied, she can use magic still even with me here. It's just not as easy. Draining. I remember.

I remember doing the same thing to my sister, in another life.

She could heal me, it just took too much of an effort to really be convenient. I had to let her. Something about me, and my own will, if not my petty mood, had to let her. To minimize the strain on her frail body, still insisting to heal something I didn't even feel.

I do the same here, let the unique trace of magic wash over me. What little I remember of those conflicting times. The guards very well could 'save' me, but I want to see what happens. I don't want to waste this chance.

The candy shell seems to grow.

Even when I focus with all my might, I can't fully make it out, vaguely translucent to the point of invisibility. The striking guards bounce though, whether of their own accords to escape or by that unseen force. Some of them lose their weapons or other objects, stolen by the wind.

Metal and trinkets. Masks and lost air. Projectiles. Grabbed and stolen all at once like ghostly haunting. They levitate all around us in semi circular patterns. Some faster than others, picking up momentum to strike like a bullet.They tease, as if asking anyone to try jumping into Cass's personal zone again.

There's little doubt now she can do to them worse than what she did to Georgie.

Earth powers my butt, but it's obvious she must have had her reasons to keep this hidden. Just like it's obvious how much she trusts us, which is apparently near none. I can't blame her on that part.

I myself don't know who to trust.

In reality, I should have stuck with my original plan when I first came to this world. No one. That was the answer. I should have never even softened for anyone, let alone trust them.

Not my parents, either one of them. Definitely not Father, no matter when he meant to me, in any lifetime. I should have learned this lesson a long time ago.

I guess maybe not even Georgie. Huh?

"Your manservant never betrayed you. He was just never yours in the first place. Don't cry about it." another sort of hoarse speaks up.

Dry and a bit cracked despite how young it should have been.

"Don't give me that. That's just the way servants are till one's commanding power or parents die. Ah, this house is already so weird. I don't know if your servants are strong or weak. Not something I would bet on." he rolls his neck, making a stiff cracking sound.

Cosimo had pulled out his own gag and binds as soon as his hands were freed. The boy stretched out uncomfortably, rolling the kinks in his joints. He rolls his eyes when we look towards him, grumpy and tired already, even at this age.

I feel it. That tiredness.

"Georgie, have the guards stand down. Explain it to me later. Cass, you too. Stand down. No one is hurting anyone. I'm not going anywhere and we all want the same thing. We're just being stupid with this stalemate." It takes a child to say this.

Tentatively, Cass lowers the speed of the projectiles. Yet they're kept lowly floating in midair, as if on standby. I don't doubt there's more in her line of defense but we are still in my land, and my property.

Georgie looks uncomfortable at Cosimo's words, his now active presence, and now mine. But motions for the guards to help with Cosimo rather than just attack to retrieve me. His own nerves anxiously fingers the control, as well as loosening the collar on his neck.

My young cousin refuses any extra pair of hands though. Typical cold and noble Bicchieri, even with his illegitimate status.

He can't really do anything against a simple poking stick though.

How out of place?

"Did you see Amar, big Ro? I haven't seen him all night and that's a long time! You did for a little bit right?! I can smell it! But I could be wrong. But I'm pretty sure I smell you right!" Lukas says it so assertively, it almost sounds like it just must be right. Simple as that.

"...Is that true? Were you down there? I'm sorry for the situation and how you were treated but…" I start, but quickly lose the words.

What are we even doing? Why is everything so messy and always getting messier? Can nothing be simple?

"...but was Amar ok?" I try asking.

Because that's really the core of things right? At least of us kids? I don't know anymore, I'll just keep doing what I do best. Keep focused on my own selfish goals and thoughts. Everything else is other people's problem.

"Who's that?" Cosimo states, bland but annoyed.

"....Nevermind then…" I tiredly give up.

We have more than enough leads….and people. I'd rather something get done than stalemate glaring around each other.

"Oh you know! Rosa, you gotta be nice because big Ro isn't very smart or good at memory and stuff. I took forever to make him learn my awesome name and that's easy peasy. Amar's my first sidekick! Remembers!? Awesome but not as awesome as me but much awesomer than Stinky." Lukas takes the poking stick to whack at Cosimo's head, unlikely to jog his memory that way.

"Ah, that one." Cosimo shows sparks of recognition through his mochi expressionless face. .

Holy shit, that actually worked?

"He's down on the fourth level. Not as interesting as any of the elders make it sound. But I suppose I wanted to see. I wanted to see what made all of that happen last night. It was very discouraging to be shown how weak I am to mental or audio influences. I should work on that." he remembers.

He remembers?! He resisted the sleep, even just for a while?

"It really wasn't all that interesting down there. But who knows, maybe it would have been so if he could speak or sing again. Could have done without some of those binds. Ah, maybe that was karma? I didn't do anything to ease his suffering and then was knocked out and tied in a bush. Hmmm, I wouldn't bet on it though." Cosimo speaks quite well at this age, a bit more naturally talkative.

While that is a good thing, I don't think I like the implications behind what I'm hearing.

"Is there anything else we should know before we break down there?" I ask. Then wiggle for Cass to put me down, making eye contact over to Lukas.

Because that's what we're doing, most certainly. We both know it.

I'm carefully watched by all when I'm set down, taking my careful steps out of the magical zone. Or rather it recedes to allow me movement. The feeling is subtly different from when I blew and broke it away, this time purposeful.

I approach the younger version of the calculating cousin that I somewhat claim I know. I do not need to ask him twice.

"How would I know what you need or don't need? Nor why should I help?...but other than that strange song that I could use to train against, there's nothing. ...It's a little similar to something…. Unwanted. Somewhere, someone and a lot more people…. He feels like the kind of thing that shouldn't exist. I would know."

For the first time in this life, I see something resembling a smile on Cosimo's face. A little wry, a lot cagey, knowing but not enough beyond his own self interest.

Feels like deja vu.

"Very well then." I can't reach up to pinch his cheeks to vent my frustration, but he satisfies me enough.

Cosimo stares with those murky unreadable eyes, a film of blue over worn dark pupils and Bicchieri gold, speckled in confusion at my touch. They light up in finality and docility though when I tip him with coins out of my own purse.

As expected of a cheapskate...don't ever change.

"Huh?!" Georgie's natural reaction points out the ridiculousness of this situation.

But I have no time for that. Hand over the controls or order the guards to escort me. You already called them out, emergency signal or not. Other things we shall deal with later. From explanations to punishments to just ...I don't know, a decent talk?

I've only just turned four. Far too young for these headaches.

As for Cosimo's last tip, as troubling as they are, what they mean, it's a mystery to fix for another time. For now, it's a Ventrella operation I'm taking over. Which means go go go.

You can come with me or watch my dust.

Now out of my way everyone!

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