Alto frowns, her grip on Ilina's wrist not loosening.
"What do you mean by that? Things changing, him being different? You were the one that was insecure, and you two were already intimate...sex wouldn't affect Mizuki like that." (Alto)
Ilina gives her a dubious look.
"I think that's your...inexperience talking, for the record, but I'm not just talking about sex. It's everything. How he worked to make that date happen, how he got rid of Ciri when I asked, and even his visit today. He just came to see me – no reason, no detours. He didn't ask my mother for a favor, he didn't have anything he needed to talk to me about, he didn't even stop by to see you or anyone else while he was here. He just...missed me, and took a break from something important to visit. Say whatever you want about the reasons, I'm honestly not sure it matters to me. All I know is, that's different, and I like it." (Ilina)
The rebuttal leaves her stunned, Ilina's arm slipping from her grasp as her thoughts begin to swirl. Seeing her arm freed, Ilina rises from the couch like she originally intended and makes her way towards Alto's plotting parchments. She calls over her shoulder, her voice softening slightly.
"Seriously, Alto...get some rest. I'll finish the plots, and if you really want, we can talk more when you wake up." (Ilina)
Alto nods absentmindedly, moving to lay down on the couch. However, even as her head hits the soft cushion, the heaviness in her eyelids once again becoming noticeable, Ilina's words linger in her ears. Her thoughts remain turbulent, and the unease in her chest only grows more pronounced.
'Maybe she's right...this visit doesn't sound like Mizuki at all. I can imagine their trip to the cat-kin not requiring his constant presence, but...why not come to see me when he was here? He should be excited to hear about my research, right?
'Did he just not know I was in the palace? My magic signature is not as distinctive as Ilina's, and I never told him where I'd be working after I got the raw data...'
In truth, her assessment isn't far from the actual reason for Mizuki's not coming to see her. He didn't know she was in the palace, nor did Ilina think to tell him, and he had assumed that Alto would be busy for a couple more days, nowhere close to finishing her research. Even if he had known she was around today, he might not have wanted to pressure her with expectations by asking about the research. That's the same reason he didn't bother to seek her out at the mansion last night, and consequently, didn't know she never returned home at all.
Alas, it's this exact conundrum that's bothering Alto now. She can't imagine how Mizuki, with his magic sense, would be oblivious to her absence from the mansion last night. In her mind, she and her research must have been so far down on his priority list that he either didn't bother to check on her while he was here today, or didn't know she was around because he didn't bother to check on her last night.
Perhaps under other circumstances, she wouldn't be as bothered by the situation. After all, she's never doubted that Mizuki cares about her – nor does she now – and him failing to come see her is a rather small thing, with any number of innocuous explanations. However, combined with the words of Ilina, whose emotional intelligence she doesn't take lightly, as well as the fact that Ilina's and Mizuki's relationship took a step forward around the same time, she can't help but connect the events.
The result is a worm of doubt...a rare fault in Alto's normally logical thinking, born from self-consciousness about one of her few areas of ignorance.
'Did...that...really change things, for Mizuki? Ilina is right, after all. I have no personal experience to draw on, and I can't deny that the behaviors of Mizuki's that she's describing are...anomalous. Could she be more suited to interpret the situation accurately, in this case?'
She feels that she has to consider the possibility, at least. And if Ilina is right, if Mizuki really did deprioritize visiting her today because his relationship with Ilina has changed, then...what does that mean for her?
It's considering that very question, paired with a subconscious fear of reliving a trauma she's never fully resolved, that an insidious possibility begins to haunt her mind.
'Am I less important to him now? Are we...going to drift apart? Will I eventually end up alone? Again...'
In that moment, as the idea crystallizes, and unnecessary worries takes root, her thoughts can't help but drift to unpleasant memories from her past. In this unfortunate state of mind, with her exhausted body and mind demanding their due, she finally drifts off to sleep.
*****
Inside a large room, lined with ornate windows that flood the area with morning sunlight, three people stand amidst furniture and decorations that scream of excess. However, as if the grandiose room is of no interest at all to them, their eyes are fixed on a small girl in the center of the room.
The girl appears about six years old, with shoulder-length hair, bright, exuberant eyes, and...long, pointy ears, just like the three adults surrounding her. She wears an ankle-length dress whose elegance and extravagance seem conspicuously unsuited for such a young child.
The person closest to the girl, a woman appearing in her late thirties by human standards and dressed in a maid outfit, nods at the child, her voice soft and encouraging.
"Okay, show them...just like we've practiced." (maid)
The girl nods her understanding and turns to face the other two people in the room – a man and woman looking early-40s. The man has dark hair just starting to show signs of grey, and blue eyes that somehow seem cold despite their vibrant color. He's dressed in refined clothing, his hands clasped behind his back as he directs a sharp, expectant gaze at the girl before him. At the man's side, the woman stands with an air of calm entitlement, her long, blonde hair shimmering in the sunlight, adding the perfect amount of color to her elegant yet modest grey dress.
Seeing the familiar couple, the girl's eyes turn resolute. A beaming smile emerges on her doll-like face, her enthusiasm infectious as her small hands pull lightly at the flowing fabric of her dress. She bends her knees, bowing her head slightly, her movements so graceful that her platinum-blonde hair is inexplicably undisturbed by the curtsy.
"I am pleased to make your acquain-" (girl)
"Stop."
The man's stern voice cuts off the girl's sonorous introduction. She freezes, her pale blue eyes moving to meet his gaze, full of uncertainty. The man narrows his eyes.
"Why are you smiling like that?" (man)
The girl's smile falters, her voice hesitant as she responds.
"Because I'm happy, and...Miss Maya says that a smile makes you more likable." (girl)
The man purses his lips in disapproval, casting a reproachful look at the maid, who flinches under his glare. He turns back to the girl, his stern tone unchanged.
"What are you trying to do right now?" (man)
Confusion taints the girl's expression.
"I am...introducing myself?" (girl)
The man nods.
"And what is the point of an introduction?" (man)
A bit of confidence returns to the girl's demeanor, her lips twisting in a small, earnest smile.
"To make a good impression, so people want to be your friend." (girl)
The man frowns.
"Foolish girl...no. The point of an introduction is to send a message. One about who you are, and how you should be treated. And the message that your smile sends is that you are carefree, naive, and eager to please...someone easily taken advantage of. That won't earn you friends, just leeches. Meanwhile, the people who you should actually concern yourself with, who could be your equals, it may even earn you their disdain, and that will extend to your family name, too. Now tell me, who are we?" (man)
The girl's face falls, the sharp reprimand from her father causing her eyes to sting. However, that doesn't stop her from answering his question...she's been asked it too many times, and learned too well that her father doesn't like to be kept waiting. So, she bites her lip and straightens her back, trying to keep her voice even.
"We are the Silver family..." (girl)
Her voice is quiet...uncertain, and the man only frowns again hearing it. His voice becomes louder, more stern.
"Again, with pride!" (man)
The girl raises her voice, the mistiness in her eyes more evident now.
"We are the S-Silver family!" (girl)
The man silently scrutinizes the girl, whose composure is hanging by a thread, before nodding dismissively. He turns to face the maid again, nearly scowling.
"We will be back in three weeks. Fix that pathetic display I saw earlier...I want her practicing that introduction at least three hours, every day, until we return. Is that clear?" (man)
The maid's face pales, while the girl's lip trembles silently. The maid is tempted to nod immediately, but...
"Master Silver, I worry that might be too much. With her schedule, all the private tutors and extra business curriculum...the weekly exams you requi-" (maid)
"Then make time. Reduce her meal times to something less indulgent, and have each tutor accelerate their teaching pace by twenty percent. She is a prodigy, after all...she should be able to meet her academic expectations more efficiently. Also, postpone her visits with any other families' children. I will not have the Silver house embarrassed because you coddle my daughter." (man)
Afraid of being cast out if she resists further, the maid bows deeply, her voice somber.
"As you wish, Master Silver." (maid)
The man nods stiffly, then departs with his wife, not bothering to glance at the girl again. If he had, he might have noticed the tears beginning to roll down her face, or the way she bit her lip with almost enough force to draw blood, just to keep from sobbing. However, he didn't...and it's unclear if he'd have cared anyway.
Three weeks passed.
The man's will was enforced by the house staff with the stringency of people who feared failure. The girl's 45 minute meals were shortened to 25 minutes, the bare minimum for her to quickly eat. Her tutoring schedule, which normally involved eight total hours of lessons throughout the day, were shortened to six and a half hours while the volume of information remained unchanged. Her afternoon break, an hour normally allowed for her to rest between tutors and digest her lunch, was done away with completely.
In the place of all that time, paid for with her stress and effort, she was rewarded with at least three hours of mind-numbing, repetitive etiquette practice. At the man's behest, it was scheduled at the end of every day, when she was tired, since "exhaustion is no excuse for embarrassing the family".
At the end of the ordained time, the man and woman return home, the staff and the girl waiting politely in the parlor to greet them. Seeing the reception, the man merely nods, his gaze eventually finding its way to the girl. He raises his eyebrows, his voice turning calculative...expectant.
"And who might you be?" (man)
Without any hesitation, as if acting on muscle memory alone, the girl immediately curtsies with a slight bow of her head, her elegant gown skillfully maintained just centimeters above the floor throughout the display. Her movements have only grown more graceful and precise in these three weeks...devoid of emotion and personality, exactly like she was taught.
She lifts her head to meet the man's gaze, her once expressive blue eyes now paled by a certain detached coldness. Then, she speaks, her previously exuberant tone tempered to a pleasant, monotonous voice.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir. I am Miss Alto Silver, heiress to the esteemed Silver Medallion Trading Company." (girl)
*****