Darlin woke up first. Nightmares again. 

She lay still, shoving the pieces of her mind into place with every short breath. When the shivers fade, she gains the strength to take her nails off her welt covered stomach in favor of clutching the sheets, ensuring she isn’t about to fall. 

With the end of her panic comes room for celebration.

Darlin jumps out of bed and grabs for the service bell, ringing it to the tune of a song, 

“It’s a blessed day to gather— let’s celebrate a love so dear! Come, I’ll tell you of mine bride and her mate. Sworn at the heart, bonded by a ring, this is their fate!

Happy day, oh happy day! Two are one in every way! Happy day, happy day! When love comes down she’s here to stay!

They met one noon— not by chance, but by saving grace. The groom courted her with words and deeds, he made her heart bloom with his faithful seeds. I saw love’s spark when it lit their face. 

Happy day, oh happy day! Two are one in every way! Happy day, happy day! When love comes down she’s here to stay!”

Collette thought the incessant ringing was a sign of urgency, only to burst in and get caught in Darlin’s merriment. 

Darlin’s joy comes in consistent packages, Collette thinks as they spin, hand in hand.

There’s the condescending type where Darlin never gives straightforward answers. Her eyes are mirrors to nothing, and she drips sarcasm and insults too masterfully woven to discern without extensive thought.

There’s the carefree sort Raymond brings out of her, one befitting her age.

The maid certainly wants to be happy with and for her, except, today, Darlin’s smile is that of a wicked child’s, saying: “I’ve done something and you don’t know it yet!”

After helping her bathe, Collette works on applying cosmetics, while wondering what color to paint Darlin’s nails.

Darlin’s pampering is always minimal, but seeing her look curiously on the bottles of colors Raymond sent makes Collette eager to have her charge fall in love with her own beauty.

That is, if they ever manage to reach that point with Darlin tapping her feet and shaking her head to the wedding folksong she hums.

Darlin is not the only distraction, but Collette manages to get the job done all while stealing glances at the bright red dress box. Darlin’s punchline.

Having her nails done is not as relaxing as soaking in the bath, yet the longer Darlin admires the peach color stamped with a gold heart, the more she understands the appeal. She suddenly felt like being especially expressive with her hands and exaggeratedly flung one as if to shoo Collette’s worry. “I swear not to do anything that will trouble His Highness. I hope you can trust my words.” 

Contrary to her thoughts, Collette is not judging or doubting Darlin. 

“I do.” Collette sighs the words. She was not worried about Ludovik— he would despise such petty emotions.

Darlin is porcelain wrapped tight in a ribbon. The ribbon is all that keeps the cracks from spreading and bringing beauty to rubble. 

Collette doesn’t want to see her fall apart. “Please take care of yourself, my Lady.”

Darlin is not given enough time to read into the sadness in those brown eyes as Collette stands and says, “Excuse me while I prepare your breakfast.”

Alone, Darlin finds a distraction in her jewelry.

She holds an earring up to eye level, a single piece of a masterfully crafted set from overseas.

The earrings are pure gold, smelted into the image of a rose, and sprinkled with small bits of moonstone to imitate dewdrops. The artistry leaves Darlin in awe, then and now.

The necklace comes in two pieces— a station choker with moonstones, and a ‘Y’ shaped necklace with a gold rose as its centerpiece. 

Finding this set was the first assignment Darlin entrusted to Jorge, and the trade off was helping him buy his way into nobility. It was a strenuous process, but also the catalyst for his unwavering belief in a fourteen year old Darlin.

Red eyes shut the world out as Darlin dives into her musings. She recalls how she has not anticipated a wedding this much since her first life. In her second life she died before coming of age to marry Heinrich, and after that her weddings were just satire at her expense.

What should be one of the happiest days of her life failed, continuously, to garner a real smile from her. 

It’s probably the opposite for you, Flora. Flora doesn’t have to steel herself to work harder for Heinrich’s love, or lie to herself that he will honor his vows. She will not drink her solitude away in the solitude of her wedding night, or pray to silent gods for mercy upon her life.

Opening her eyes, blood colored pupils are incandescent under the pour of a new sun.

As the gods have favored Flora over her, Darlin believes they’ll hear her prayer this time. “I hope you are smiling right now, sister.”

*****

There’s no time to waste in preparing a noblewoman for her wedding. 

The elder maids with the skills to perform the work are in Flora’s room at the crack of dawn.

“My Lady, you are already awake?” One of them voices the surprise they all share.

It turns out Darlin may not have woken up first. 

Hazel leans a little to the side to look past the older women.

Flora doesn’t respond from the window seat, much too occupied with the decorated carriage parked at her home’s entrance. 

The servants share communicative glances, ultimately deciding to task Hazel through a prompting gaze.

The younger doesn’t hesitate to prance over to Flora. “My Lady, could it be the jitters?” She giggles teasingly. “You must be more excited than I realized. You could have called for some calming tea, you know~?”

Annie rolls her eyes. She’s seen all of Flora’s expressions, except for this hollowness. She studies it until she remembers, It’s not my place to worry about that anymore…

The older maids follow Hazel’s lead and begin herding Flora through her beautification with flattery and light jokes at Flora’s youth. 

Annie picks up after them, while Hazel happily receives instructions from the older maids. After all, as Annie’s usurper, time will come when it will be Hazel’s job to organize and execute preparations such as these.

The finishing touches are done just in time for Countess Gretchen to strut through the doo.

She looks Flora over, utterly unimpressed. “I suppose you’re ready as you’ll ever be.”

Flora puts her waned energy into a nod. Gretchen’s snide cannot upset her anymore than her reflection already does.

After the conversation Flora overheard, Gretchen seized patience and buckled down to teach Flora of the Fritz’s wedding traditions rooted in the Voyager Era.

Such traditions entail the bride to bathe, then dress in a thick, white, shapeless, long sleeved chemise. The only makeup she’s allowed is some oil on her lips, and her hair is covered with a wimple secured with a leaf wreath.

It is barely seven at this time, yet Flora will now make her way to the Fritz’s personal cathedral, where she will pray until the time to don her dress and proceed with the official ceremony. 

“You’d best be heading off.” The Countess takes a step closer and looks down on Flora without lowering her head. “Do not disgrace my teachings, Lady Flora.”

The acknowledgment Flora wanted is spat at her feet like it were bile on Gretchen’s tongue. 

At this point, her dream wedding is scarred and blurred, the place it once kept in her heart becoming barren. 

Her love for Heinrich is truer than true. Admittedly, they made a little mistake that day, and no one is more embarrassed than Flora, yet the whole world rebukes her like she’s challenged the gods. 

Just as she didn’t intend to fall in love with Heinrich, she also didn’t mean for things to go that far on the balcony. 

Why does no one understand? It was an accident…! I… I didn’t mean to… It was an accident! Why will no one help?

Isabelle and Howard await her by the entrance. The former is smiling, but doesn’t hold Flora’s gaze, whilst Howard can’t contain himself. He throws his arms in a thrilled presentation of his daughter, “There’s my Duchess Apparent!”

“Flora,” Isabelle said, “you’ve been through a lot, but we hope you know we love you and are always supporting you.”

“When you have nothing to say, smile.” Flora applies Gretchen’s teaching. How tiresome her parents’ empty encouragements have become.

Isabelle’s been uselessly gloomy since her confrontation with Gretchen, while Howard is either totally out of sight or too caught up in himself to read the mood.

Without this fiasco, Flora would not have realized how cowardly her parents can be. 

Flora’s only solace is meeting Heinrich, regrouping in his arms, and having his sweet nothings assuage her heart.

Heinrich won’t fail her like everyone else. The thought strikes a match in her dim heart and Flora pinches the chemise as she curtsies. “Mother, father, thank you for everything up until now. I think I ought to g—“

“HAHA! What a fine young woman my daughter has become!” As Howard bickers about memories and such, Isabelle observes Flora and feels her throat tighten.

The sounds of the world melts into nothing, and all she hears is the rapid thump, thump, thump of her heart.

Isabelle’s intuition opposes Darlin’s sound warnings, demanding she drag Flora back upstairs, insist this wedding cannot proceed!

There isn’t much of a “why”, only a “must”. 

Her mouth is dry, yet she finds a voice. “Flora—“

“What in the world are you still doing here?” Gretchen snaps from the top of the stairs. 

Flora’s smile almost falls, but in a moment of quick thinking she curtsies again and says loudly, “Mother, father, let’s meet again at the ceremony.” then rushes out the door and into the flowery carriage.

She’s gone, and regret has Isabelle by the neck.

Under Gretchen’s glower, Howard makes himself scarce with some inane excuse. He’ll address that charmless woman once Flora makes the abuse known to Heinrich. 

Gretchen then mocks Isabelle, “Smile, Countess Rayne, it is your beloved daughter’s wedding day.”

“Sir Heinrich loves Flora.” Isabelle says through gritted teeth. “One day you’re going to regret looking down on her!”

“Terrifying.” Gretchen’s amber eyes roll as snaps her fingers twice to halt a maid pushing a meal cart. “By the way, stop speaking informally to me. We cannot have anyone thinking I am associated with the likes of you, can we?”

She gives her attention to the maid before Isabelle can answer. “Is that for Lady Darlin?”

After doing her best to avoid Gretchen, Collette still wound up being singled out by her. “…Yes, my Lady.” What wretched luck...

“Very good,” Gretchen smooths out her hair and taps her cheeks a few times. “lead the way.”

It turns out she did not need to manually redden her cheeks. The distance from the foyer to Darlin’s bedroom is enough to work her red. “Wha… What sort of…” Darlin’s room is in an essentially deserted part of the house. The halls are clean, but the bare walls show it’s not a place anyone finds worthy of finery.

She nods after she catches her breath, signaling Collette to knock. “My lady, Countess Dalton wishes to see you.”

Alarms go off in Darlin’s head. She yanks her dresser’s drawer open and shoves the jewelry set in. 

Before the door is fully open, she assesses the dress box, then her chest. There’s no time…! So, she sits up and looks towards the entrance in guiltless surprise. “Countess? What brings you here?”

“I apologize for my suddenness, but I wanted to have one last time before I leave.” Gretchen signals the need for privacy by glancing at Collette.

Having Felicity’s confidant in her room— her base of operations— is enough to make Darlin antsy, but she also has to consider the usefulness of whatever the Countess has to say. “Yes, our time was short, but quite enjoyable.” She gives the same lovely smile she has for years. Friendly, harmless. “Let me treat you to some hibiscus tea as thanks for all your hard work.”

Collette takes the hint and bows out.

Once the door shuts, Gretchen commences her manipulations with a stream of crocodile tears. It was very good acting. She was a bit too forward, but that proves she doesn’t see me as a threat. Nonetheless, Darlin comforts her. 

“Forgive me for showing such a shameful image, I… I’ve just become so fond of you, and…”

“I am honored your Ladyship. Still, it is not like we will never see each other again…” Why the dramatics?

The conversation was going exactly how Gretchen wanted, so much so she took a few seconds to search Darlin’s eyes. There is no doubt in those pools of red. As I thought, you’re still just a child. Masterpiece or not, there is a hole in Darlin’s heart, dug by Isabelle and Howard. If Gretchen fills it… “Have you considered any new candidates for your next betrothal?”

Darlin stops herself from glancing at her bedside, where Ludovik’s letters are locked away. “Not particularly... I have only had Sir Heinrich for so long. Even now, it is hard to imagine having another.” 

If Gretchen is testing Darlin’s loyalty on Felicity’s behalf, then this answer should suffice. 

She deduces Felicity might fear Darlin causing a scene. It would make sense for her to act out on this day, but Fritz has endured more dirty water since the graduation than since their family was founded. How funny. As if I will ever demean myself for that woman’s spawn ever ag—!

“My dear girl, I… I would be delighted if you became my daughter-in-law?”

The cogwheels in Darlin’s head are jammed with those words. Me…? Me and… Narcisse Dalton?! To rid herself of one of Flora’s admirers, just to wed the other. The horror!

If she hadn’t gone stiff, Darlin would have ripped away from Gretchen in visceral repulsion!

She recovers her senses through the boil of hostility in her chest. 

Heinrich could keep average politeness, but Narcisse hates Darlin proudly. But you already know that, don’t you? 

She takes her hands out of Gretchen’s and rubs up her arms, sadness tinting her voice. “It is a shame Sir Narcisse and I have never gotten along.” 

“Oh no, no, no, my dear! My Narry might be a bit immature, but whatever you think, I assure you that’s not the case!”

“Is that right? To be honest, it is rumored he has feelings for Flo—!”

“Absolutely not!” Gretchen quickly slams a hand over her mouth. “Ahem! That’s just babble because he and Sir Heinrich are always together.”

If only Gretchen knew a day like this would come, she would have curbed Narcisse’s crush much sooner!

“Don’t be so paranoid, my dear~!” Gretchen laughs past the uneasiness in the air. “Men always chase a skirt or two in their youth, but I assure you Narcisse is honorable.” Gretchen tries to blind Darlin by dangling Flora on a hook. “Actually, he’s been troubled because your sister’s careless relational skills have brought about misunderstandings. Whatever you think you’ve seen or heard, I give you my word it’s far from the truth.”

And now I know your word is shit. Darlin almost couldn’t breathe. She wondered if Gretchen lies like Felicity because their friends. “I… I need some time to think…”

That wasn’t the answer Gretchen wanted, but she still cups Darlin’s cheek with a motherly smile. “I understand, but don’t take too long, dear.” She leaves Darlin with the words, “I hope you choose wisely.”

Darlin’s narrow shoulders rise and fall with deep, sharp breaths. It’s not in her nature to throw a tantrum, but this time, she just might. 

She snatches a bottle of perfume off the table and turns to fling it at the wall. 

Her arm freezes in the air and, in time, she surrenders her anger under the covert influence of the irises. “…I… I might have… I might have made a mistake.”

*****

“Want a drink?” 

The familiarly playful voice has Heinrich lifting his face from his palms. He shoves out of his chair, haven not heard anyone enter his room due to the crowd of his ruminations. “Well?” He demands of Narcisse, “What did you find?”

Narcisse shrugs his shoulders and pours them both some of the rum he brought with him. “Jack shit.” He empties his cup in one gulp while handing Heinrich the other. “The sweet smell of a fruit you did not know, right?” He asks, more so to show he got the instructions clear. Heinrich nods and Narcisse lets out a raspy sigh. “No such thing, my friend.”

“Fuck,” Heinrich rolls his neck, but when it fails to get the tension out of his muscles, he hurls his cup at the wall. “FUCK!”

“Goddamnit! Calm down, Richy!” Narcisse fills his glass again. “What’s the matter with you?”

“The Capital— the nation— thinks I’m a savage who does such illicit things in public! Look at me and tell me they’re not mocking me out there.”

Narcisse couldn’t. “Listen, things are what they are, so try to look on the bright side.”

“And what’s there to look at, hm?” Marching towards his balcony, Heinrich scrutinizes the garden, decorated to host the most hilarious wedding of the century. 

“You’re marrying the woman you love. Out with that sour whiner, and in with our lovely Flora, no?” He pours Heinrich another glass and joins him on the balcony. “I’d say that’s cause for a drink.”

Heinrich didn’t want to be drunk so early, but his nerves needed it. He empties his cup, then goes for the bottle. 

A few gulps and he’s breathing a bit easier. “I didn’t want her like this. Not to mention she went and told that lie.”

Narcisse quirks a brow, asking for a better explanation.

Heinrich has enough sense to beckon his friend back inside before he confides, “Flora, she… she told her parents I’d taken her virginity. That’s why this wedding’s happening.” then helps himself to a few more swigs.

“Wait a minute…” Narcisse snatches the bottle from Heinrich and points a finger at his face. “You’re telling me you and Flora have never… not once?”

“Gods Narcisse,” Heinrich is appalled by the accusations. “what sort of animal do you take me for? And on a balcony? Be serious.”

“The balcony be damned— I take you for a hotblooded man who’s got a voluptuous beauty pandering for his affections.” If Flora ever looks at Narcisse the way she does Heinrich, not even his mother can stop him from mounting her. 

It is her unique look of innocence that makes Flora more enticing than any other woman he’s met. “…Are you a eunuch?”

“Fuck you.” Heinrich finally laughs, and Narcisse joins him. 

When their joy dies down, Narcisse asks, “Have you told your parents she lied?”

“They don’t believe me…” 

“Honestly?” Narcisse tips his head sideways. “Fair.” 

“…Are you sure no one noticed anything strange that night?”

Narcisse sighs, but supplies anyway, “Not the graduates, teachers, wait staff. No one. Are you sure you didn’t imagine it?”

Heinrich shakes his head.

“Right, let’s run it like this, Richy,” A rare look somberness adorns Narcisse’s handsome face. He pulls his purple tresses into a ponytail as he recounts the facts, “You smelt it so the aphrodisiac was obviously a perfume of sorts.”

“Obviously.”

“And the aroma was…”

“Feminine. Definitely.”

“Even nobles risk their titles owning any sort of aphrodisiac, yet someone attended a grand event sprayed in one?”

It sounded ludicrous because it was. Heinrich’s shoulders drop, but Narcisse is determined to put this situation to bed once and for all. “Also, you were the only one affected? How?”

“I…”

“You drank, Richy.” Narcisse closes, “You got drunk and lost control. …That’s all there is to it.”

It should be, but after a moment of dreary silence, Heinrich said almost gravely, “What does a woman gain from using an aphrodisiac on a man?”

“A ring on her finger. Why?” It took a moment but Narcisse eventually read the conjecture in Heinrich’s eyes. “Richy, there’s no way—“

“What if Flora is the culprit?”

*****

At exactly nine o’clock the cathedral’s doors a group of older maids enter with the strictness of militants.

The one leading is an elderly woman who walks with a cane. Her hooked nose seems permanently wrinkled in distaste.

The woman knocks her cane on the floor and a maid leaves her side to help Flora to her feet. “Lady Flora, greetings,” The old woman inclines her head. “I am Miss Kynlee, the Head Maid of Fritz.”

“Nice to… meet you…” Flora was immediately weary of Kynlee. Her narrow eyes carry the same condescension Gretchen looked upon Flora with. 

Silence persists as Kynlee takes her time to very obviously study Flora. Whatever she sees is only worth a disappointed sigh as she turns around. “It is almost time for the ceremony, so you must change immediately.” 

Flora is in awe of the Fritz home. The beige wallpaper with edges designed with red patterns and stiff faced portraits are not really her taste, but she can certainly admire the beauty of the mansion’s prideful interior decorations.

Her family’s home could not compare, and Flora felt a mix of pride and excitement knowing she will be the mistress of this grand home. “The mansion is absolutely beautiful!”

Kynlee peers over her shoulder at Flora, who is turning around with her steps to take in everything around them, and quietly clicks her tongue. “I am glad you think so,” She said as she faces forward again, “but this is not the mansion, Lady Flora.”

Flora stops in place. “What? Then where are we?” 

“The side-house, my Lady.” She did not bother to wait for Flora and continued with the other maids. “Come, come, we must not dally. There is still much to do.”

Flora wanted to ask more, but figures they really are out of time when Kynlee and the others start walking faster than normal.

Well, every other thing Gretchen said came to pass

Flora was wiped down with water saturated with almond blossoms. “For charm and sweetness.” Kynlee said.

She instructed the maids, “There’s no need to draw her brows, focus on making her skin flawless.”

“What of her lips?” One of the maids asked. 

“Darken them a tad.”

“I thought Fritz’s brides do not wear makeup in honor of Princess Löslein.”

It surprised Kynlee to see Flora is somewhat learned. She’s heard only disheartening things through the grapevine. “Princess Löslein was so beautiful and confident she refused makeup on her wedding day. Even then her husband, who opposed the arranged marriage, immediately loved her at first sight. To follow her example is to have absolute faith in yourself as she did.” Using her cane, Kynlee flips the makeup box’s cover shut, the sound causing Flora to start. Kynlee casually challenges her, “Do you have that faith, Lady Flora?” 

”I…” “Your love, your hope— my effort, my sacrifice…” Flora finally realizes what lies behind Darlin’s cryptic words. 

“Yes,” Has she not always disproved of the way Darlin and others turn high society into a senseless tug of war of vanity and bullying? Just as Princess Löslein left her mark in the sands of time, I can make a change… “I will be the Duchess Apparent, after all!” 

“…Have it your way.”

Because the Voyager Era was one of ice and snow, tight updos were a staple. Flora couldn’t say she liked the twisted up chignon, but she would take it over the wimple.

“Onto the dress,” Kynlee claps twice and two maids leave to return pushing a mannequin draped in a dress with long mutton sleeves, and a lace turtleneck. The overskirt is bubbled and tulip shaped, stopping right above the knees, while the straight inner skirt reaches the ankles, its back stretching into a short train.

It is even worse than Flora imagined.