"Lulu!"
Luna heard the call and looked up.
Lynette crouched before her, her cat ears twitching. "It's your turn. Still reading?"
Many years ago, before the sea had risen, this slope had been the children's playground at the House of the Hearth.
Warm winds would often sweep through, sunlight stretching the children's shadows long across the ground.
Hearing the continuous peals of laughter, Luna finally realized they were playing a game.
"Marele" - the game's actual name wasn't this, but the children of the House of the Hearth all called it by this name.
The House of the Hearth's operations often required secrecy, necessitating codes for communication.
Marele was one of the codes designated by Arlecchino.
"Want to carry me, Nini?"
"No. And I've already told you that nickname is strange."
"Then... Lynette, carry me."
"I've already said no."
Luna had no choice but to put down her book and stand up.
It was exactly 4 o'clock in the afternoon. Though the sunlight was no longer intense, she still squinted slightly as she looked toward Arlecchino in the distance.
Their "father" was sitting there, observing.
"Father, want to play with us?" Luna asked as she walked over.
This was a question the other children would never dare to ask.
They loved and revered Arlecchino, but also felt a certain awe toward her.
Only Luna was different. Even when gazing into those slanted cross eyes, she never felt any fear. The only thought that ever came to her was - "How beautiful".
The other children couldn't help but think: Maybe in Luna's eyes, every part of Arlecchino is beautiful.
"I'll pass. Just enjoy yourselves," Arlecchino replied mildly.
Her gaze drifted to Luna's hand.
"Hand."
Luna obediently extended her palm.
Arlecchino's thumb gently brushed the girl's palm.
"Does it hurt?"
"More like a tickle."
Arlecchino murmured, "Seems your wounds healed quickly. But do you remember what I said before?"
"I do."
"That's good."
As Arlecchino moved to withdraw her hand, Luna's now slender fingers gently captured her thumb, caressing it tenderly.
Lifting her eyes, Arlecchino saw Luna's flushed cheeks.
"You're really not coming?"
Arlecchino's voice remained soft. "Do you truly see me as one of you, Luna?"
"'Father' is taller, but I don't think that matters."
Only Luna would say such a thing.
A rare smile touched Arlecchino's lips. "Go ahead. Long ago, I played this game too, though... in a different form."
A different form? Luna tilted her head in confusion.
Instead of answering, Arlecchino added, "After you're done, I have something to discuss with you."
When the sunset painted the sky crimson, Luna - slightly winded from play - wiped sweat from her neck and scanned the area. Finally, she found Arlecchino's silhouette at the hill's summit.
The woman sat upon a flat, elongated stone.
Luna unconsciously softened her footsteps, approaching soundlessly.
Even if she were to openly stroke Arlecchino's hair, the latter wouldn't refuse her.
Yet despite being on the cusp of becoming a lady, Luna still retained some... mischievousness. She wanted to test approaching Arlecchino from behind and then touch her hair.
"Luna, your presence still betrayed you."
Failure.
Luna said with frustration, "I thought I did it perfectly."
"It was quite good. You're the most exceptional child... but you still need to refine your skills." Arlecchino gestured to the space beside her. "Sit."
Luna plopped down beside her, then paused before scooting away slightly.
Arlecchino glanced at her but said nothing.
"If you're worried your sweat might upset me, there's no need. Even if you left cold sweat behind, I wouldn't say anything."
Luna quickly scooted back.
"...So you've started paying attention to your appearance too? Though I suppose it makes sense. The other children have begun noticing such things as well."
"I don't think it's about paying attention to appearance at all," Luna said, blushing.
"Is that so? Hmm..."
Arlecchino pondered for a moment before dropping the topic.
"I called you here to tell you something." Arlecchino turned her gaze to Luna's face. "Luna, you can't become the 'King'."
-
"Monsieur Callas was a brave, resolute, and upright man..."
Outside Poisson, a memorial service for Callas Caspar was in progress.
Luna was among the attendees.
She emerged from her memories, glancing at Navia beside her. Navia wore an expression of solemnity, her usual vivacity completely absent.
This wasn't merely the expected demeanor for a funeral, but also appropriate for her current position as President of the Spina di Rosula.
The eulogy continued. Dark clouds hung low, fine rain falling persistently, the air thick and oppressive enough to induce drowsiness. Luna adjusted her black mourning hat and listened intently.
Since Callas had already been interred, the crowd could only gaze upon his portrait.
"That's exactly how Father was in life" Navia murmured.
"Though he was quite handsome..." Luna said gazing at the portrait.
At Luna's remark, a fleeting smile touched the corners of Navia's eyes before vanishing. Though Callas would undoubtedly have approved of laughter at his funeral, Navia needed to maintain her dignified image. Any mirth would be better reserved for a private visit to his gravestone later.
"Mother might have fallen for that very handsomeness," Navia continued, her gaze distant with remembrance. "But... he always wore that stern face."
"...We avenged you, Dad."
It sounded as if we had become sisters.
But Luna tactfully refrained from saying so.
Her gaze swept over the nearby figures before settling on Clorinde in the far corner. Noticing Luna's attention, Clorinde pulled her hat down slightly in greeting.
Yet throughout the entire memorial service, she never approached Navia.
The memorial service lasted longer than expected.
The cause lay in the overwhelming number of attendees, each offering flowers in a never-ending procession.
Callas's own funeral had been far sparser - only members of the Spina di Rosula and a handful of close friends had attended.
This contrast proved Callas's restored reputation.
The "unfaithful Callas" would be forgotten, replaced by "the valiant Callas," "the righteous Callas," "the fearless Callas"...
As the lengthy memorial service concluded, Navia found no respite. The next to arrive at the scene were...
"Regarding our collaboration with the Spina di Rosula..."
It was a business collaboration!
"Miss Navia, could you grant us an interview? Ah! Miss Luna, we'd like to speak with you too!"
It was Charlotte and other reporters from various newspapers!
After days of constant activity, Navia finally had a moment to rest.
Her first instinct was to find Luna. Without hesitation, she dragged her good partner to a specific place.
The cemetery in Poisson.
They returned to Callas's gravestone.
"I've brought Lulu to see you, old man," Navia murmured.