Chapter 14: Past III - Face Your Fears
She almost looked away. By now, her face was burning and she wanted to bury herself in a hole. Her ideal confession was just going to be a simple “will you go out with me” at an appropriate time, but now she’d gone and ran her mouth, saying a bunch of things that Annabelle will doubtlessly never let her forget when they got through all this.
However embarrassing it was, at least it worked. A reddish tinge rose to Annabelle’s face and her eyes that regained their spirit averted their gaze.
“...are you serious?” Annabelle mumbled. “If you’re not after saying all that, I’ll never forgive you.”
“Yes...”
“...okay.” That was all Annabelle said before she turned and hugged her, dragging Belevere down until her face touched Belevere’s neck. While the suddenness of the hug surprised her, Belevere reciprocated.
While she was happy that Annabelle was mostly back to normal, the problem regarding Vesmelda remained. Whatever Vesmelda did to Annabelle affected her even after almost ten years thanks to constant reminders and Annabelle never truly escaping.
She wanted to know, but she was afraid that mentioning Annabelle’s mother to her will set Annabelle off again.
As she puzzled over how to tackle the problem of turning the topic to Annabelle’s past, Annabelle shifted. Belevere looked down to see what she was up to to find her looking up back at her.
Meeting her gaze, Annabelle shook herself and settled more comfortably on Belevere’s body, until she was almost on top of her entirely.
“You wanted to know what my mother did to me, right?” she asked, playing with her finger. Annabelle couldn’t stop fidgeting. While it was uncomfortable for Belevere, she didn’t mind all that much.
Belevere nodded. “Please tell me.”
She wished she could tell Annabelle that she didn’t have to, but she couldn’t. It was going to be hard for Annabelle, but it was too important.
One of the only ways she could think of for Annabelle to start getting over her fear of her mother, something that was long overdue, was for her to face her fears and realize it was all in the past when she was alone. The little Annabelle then was not the same Annabelle that exists now.
Annabelle tensed up as she began reminiscent, even flinching as what must have been painful memories passed through her mind.
“I don’t remember everything,” she admitted. “A lot of the painful things she did was when I was too young to remember. But what I do remember most of the later parts.”
“I don’t know what other people’s first memories are,” Annabelle admitted. “I heard that it is usually a false memory constructed from imagining the events of stories told by relatives and friends. In my case, I did not have any stories told to me by anyone.”
Belevere nodded. A lot of her memories she did not remember as if she was the person doing the actions, but rather she was present as a third person bystander.
“There are some glimpses of what seem to be memories, but I can’t be sure. My first clear memory that I could remember was when I was maybe four or five. Even back then, my mother had been obsessed with turning me into some kind of prodigy. She was convinced that I would be the greatest pilot ever seen in this world, or star system.”
“Wait,” Belevere interrupted. “You can’t test for neural aptitude until you’re ten years old! How does she know that you have the aptitude?”
Even if a child was tested early before they turned ten, it was possible they might lose their aptitude as they grew up, Only upon approaching their eleventh year after conception did aptitudes finally stabilize.
“I don’t know. But she’d always said that I was ‘the one.’ She had always obsessed over my genes since as long as I could remember,” Annabelle said.
Belevere was a bit taken aback by Annabelle’s answer. Vesmelda thought that there was something special about Annabelle’s genes, but since Annabelle’s daughter, then perhaps it was some kind of twisted narcissism at work.
But then that couldn’t be it. Belevere doubted that Vesmelda would obsess over a derivation of her own genes. Rather, it was something else.
“Anne...” she began slowly. Annabelle’s upturned eyes told her to go on. “Do you know anything about your father? Your father’s identity is actually one of the Tamsel’s greatest mysteries.”
Annabelle sombered and shook her head, going slack helplessly in her lap.
“I don’t. I don’t know his name, or what he looks like,” she said sadly. “None of the servants in the household know either, or they wouldn’t tell me. There’s no photos or recordings of him.”
If even Annabelle didn’t know and Vesmelda was going to such extents to hide the truth, then Annabelle’s father must have been someone remarkable and whose identity was highly sensitive.
“I think your father was probably an expert pilot,” Belevere said. “And probably an abnormally good one at that if your mother was so confident that you’d become an expert pilot too.”
The ability to pilot mechs was partially hereditary, but not genetic. Childrens of pilots usually had the aptitude to become a pilot. Vesmelda Florent wasn’t a bad pilot herself, having been knighted in the previous war, so if Annabelle’s father had been a pilot as well, it wasn’t strange that Vesmelda assumed Annabelle would have the aptitude.
Similarly, the ability to break through is also often passed down. Lines of expert pilots were not unheard of, though rare. The more skillful and powerful the father, the more likely the son was to be an expert pilot, though the quality diminished through the generations.
If Vesmelda could guarantee that Annabelle would become an expert pilot and it wasn’t just a delusion of hers, then Annabelle’s mysterious father would probably be unrivaled in the Margent Kingdom.
The question became why such an eminent figure would settle for a lowly knight when there were many better, more equal matches status-wise. But then, put into context, perhaps their relationship had simply been a temporary fling, and the father left before realizing that Vesmelda was pregnant with Annabelle.
Annabelle sighed. “I wish he stayed. I want to meet him one day.”
Belevere hesitated to answer. If she ever met Annabelle’s father, she’d probably ask him why he had left. If he was so powerful, Vesmelda would never have had the chance to abuse Annabelle.
“Okay, enough about my father. If we’re going to talk about my past, I don’t want to keep going back over and over. Let’s get it over in one go.”
Belevere squeezed the girl in front of her. “Don’t push yourself too much. If you're ready to talk about it, then hard part is already over.”
“No, I’m fine. I don’t want to run away now after finally getting the courage,” Annabelle said. “Do you remember how in our first year, I was firmly at the top of the class?”
“Yes. That’s why you were called a prodigy from the start.”
Annabelle shook her head. “I’m no prodigy. The truth is, I’ve had years of piloting experience by the time I enrolled here. When I turned six, I piloted my first mech. It was a simple construction mech about 5 meters tall. Then I moved on to half-mechs, and finally, humanoid mechs when I turned nine.”
I'm so glad that it wasn't a long drawn out will they won't they.
Say what?
Yo that Hospital Director guy is definitely her Grandfather!!!