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There were a handful of things that Matilda Bouanich was certain of. Her prestige, for once, as the third top student in her course. Her intellect, which allowed her to perform complex divinations and incantations from a tender age. And even what food the school canteen would offer for the following three weeks, in a meal-to-meal schedule.
It came without saying, then, that it was a rare occasion for her to be surprised by the tides of fate. Whenever it happened, there was typically a single person to blame for her lack of foresight.
“S-Sonetto.” Matilda grabbed onto the handle with enough strength to turn her knuckles white. It took everything in her to keep a straight face instead of blushing furiously, the mixed feelings towards Sonetto keeping her in a chokehold. “How dare you disturb the great Matilda Bouanich at these late hours? You know I need my beauty sleep to maintain a high performance in class.”
Something was off in Sonetto’s gaze. She had always had a vacuous stare of sorts— as if she was continuously glancing behind her interlocutors, and never at their face. Beyond them, perhaps in the past, perhaps in the future. Matilda often wondered if she could see other people at all, though she preferred not to wallow in such sad consideration.
That night, however, it was different. Sonetto seemed weighed down, as if her shoulders were carrying an unseen boulder. And, well, it was indeed a diviner’s job to read the room and feelings of others before indulging their questions with her enchantments.
Also, it didn’t take a seer to guess what she had come for.
“I hoped you would be awake,” Sonetto mumbled, taking a few hesitant steps into the room. Her heels clicked on the floor to accompany her, like one of the poems she loved to recite. Didn’t she know that Matilda would be up and about, busy practicing her magic, after visiting her in the dead of night oh-so-many times before? “My apologies for disturbing you so late.”
“You should be! People make appointments to get a reading from me.” Matilda locked the door behind them and hopped back to her desk, where her materials and tomes were scattered unorderly. Ah, what a shame— she tidied them up as quickly as she could. “Because that’s what you’re here for, right?”
Sonetto didn’t pay her question any heed. She sat on the white lounge chair, her legs uncomfortably clasped together, both fists balled around the hem of her skirt. “Pardon me for abusing your kindness once again,” she whispered. “Your foresight is the only solution I find when my mind is plagued by doubts.”
The indirect praise went straight to Matilda’s head. She let out a proud giggle and scurried to fetch her crystal ball. It didn’t matter that divinations were the sole reason Sonetto needed her. It didn’t matter that Matilda wasn’t the second choice for her, but rather outside the scope of choices altogether. Nothing mattered, except for her powers, and Sonetto’s awe for them.
“You know I’ve never failed a reading,” Matilda boasted, her palm rubbing the surface of the ball to polish it. “What is the riddle, this time? An exam you cannot study for? I’ll lend you my notes if—”
“It’s about the Timekeeper.”
Ah. Of course.
Matilda coughed to hide her hurt. When had anything been about someone else, in Sonetto’s mind? From the first time they met, Ms. Vertin had been the apple of her eye.
Luckily, the words “jealousy” and “envy” did not fit a wealthy lady’s vocabulary.
“I’ll need you to be more precise than just this.” Matilda gathered the ingredients in the meantime, preparing the tools for the divination. Friendship called for milled magnesia, and romance… No, it was certainly not about romance, so there was no need for liquefied terror. “What is your question?”
Sonetto exhaled. And when she glanced up at Matilda, her gaze was full of newfound resolve. “Will the Timekeeper ever return my feelings?”
A punch to her gut would have hurt less than such an explicit demand. Sonetto was done beating around the bush, it seemed. The theories and ghosts that had haunted Matilda’s mind for the previous years (and which she had dutifully discarded to keep believing in her happy ending someday) were now waging war against her certainties.
Her crush had a crush on someone else.
A crush that was just as powerful as hers— defying rejection, delusion, and hopelessness. Yet, where Matilda shied away in fear, Sonetto was brave enough to interrogate her future written in the stars. One more reason to admire her… One more reason to sink deeper into the abyss.
The bar was far too high for her to reach. Despite her glory and greatness, despite her heritage and family riches, how could anyone compete with Vertin? The Timekeeper was in a different league. The impossible competitor for any lovestruck soul.
Matilda gulped.
Ah, it was fine, it was fine. She couldn’t afford to lose face at the earliest difficulty. She needed to focus on the task at hand, and get the job done: it surely wouldn’t be by spreading negativity and throwing tantrums that she would eventually steal Sonetto’s attention.
Matilda must be what Sonetto wished to see: perfect, impeccable, and useful. A carbon copy of Ms. Vertin, though made of cheaper materials and fibers. “I’ll see what I can do.”
She went through with the usual process. The custom concoction simmered on her portable stove, gurgling in the fine pot that once belonged to Matilda’s mother. When the grime was poured onto the crystal ball, the round surface began glowing a bright white.
For the longest time, Matilda wasn’t sure whether she should hope for a yes or a no. Approval from the stars would plunge the final nail in her coffin, forcing her to bid her crush on Sonetto farewell forever. A denial, however, would hurt the girl immensely.
She decided not to think about anything at all. “Cleanse your mind, Matilda,” she told herself. “Keep it clear, and your reading won’t be flawed.”
The answer flashed before their eyes. It was a cruel, blunt “no”.
Sonetto’s curious gray eyes landed on her, a shy smile curving her lips. “So? What does your omnipotent crystal ball say regarding my question?”
“D-Don’t flatter it in hopes of a better verdict. It already responded,” Matilda stuttered. Why did the ungrateful task of informing the customers of a negative outcome always fall on her shoulders, on top of the reading itself? “It seems the Timekeeper will be… out of your grasp.”
Beyond the seemingly unfazed mask that was Sonetto’s face, Matilda could sense her deep hurt. It mustn’t be simple, indeed. There was a reason she had never dared to question fate about her romance either. Nothing but pain and paranoia could come out of an ill prediction.
“I…” Sonetto took a sharp breath, as if trying to calm herself down. “I understand. Thank you, Matilda.”
Ah, crap. The guilt was already storming in.
Matilda laughed nervously. “Don’t look at me with that miserable face…!” she mocked her, her words far worse than she had planned in her mind. “You can’t win them all. Sometimes, it’s also okay not to be worthy of love altogether, right?!”
The silence that followed pushed Matilda further down into her self-hatred. What was that? Why in the world would she say such a hurtful, cruel sentence to the person she admired the most?
Although Sonetto’s smile didn’t crack, she sensed something crashing inside of her. And it pained— it killed Matilda to be the cause of it. “Thank you again, Matilda. I will… mull it over.”
No sound came from Matilda’s side as she watched her leave, the door closing silently behind her back. Her only companion through the night was the deafening scream of her regrets.
Instead of sleeping, she questioned her reading over and over, wondering if there was a mistake somewhere in the process. Milled magnesia might have been the wrong material, after all. She should have tried more options before settling for one, given the importance of the request.
“Did my hopes produce a flawed result?” she asked herself. “There is no way the Timekeeper doesn’t reciprocate her feelings… Surely, I am mistaken.”
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*. ──
The Timekeeper had returned! She was back (and victorious) from the trenches, after braving the Storm! And once again, a recruit for the Foundation followed in her steps, shyly peeking at the tall building as she stepped out of the magical suitcase.
That was all Matilda had heard since the moment she woke up. Every student was an undercover fan of Vertin, it seemed, ready to fawn and swoon over her after every mission.
Perched on the Foundation’s main bridge, with the wind messing up her hair while she glanced down to the courtyard, Matilda couldn’t manage to dispel the melancholy haunting her heart.
There she was. With her composed demeanor and handsome looks, Vertin was impossible to miss in the crowd. Truly an eyesore of a rival.
Truth be told, she would be far less desperate if her contendant was just the tiniest bit more flawed. Matilda knew where she stood; she had a firm grasp on her pros and cons, and was confident she could compete against most people. A gorgeous genius, however, might be out of her league.
One, because Vertin’s appearance was that of a fairy, with hair whiter and softer than the snowflakes pitter-pattering on her shoes in winter. And two, because her charm and power were unmatched, even for a renowned seer like her.
However, admittedly, the reason she was searching for Vertin in the crowd was never to sing her praises. She hoped to catch a glimpse of orange hair by her side, to witness Sonetto’s relaxed beauty when she roamed around her favorite person.
Today was an odd one. She was nowhere to be seen. Was Sonetto still uncomfortable because of the reading? Heck, no. Matilda couldn’t let that happen.
Led by her heart, Matilda wandered the Foundation’s grounds in search of her presence. She inspected the canteen, the classrooms, the library, and even the council’s lounge: no results. The greenhouse, the backyard, and the majorette practice gym were empty.
Out of ideas, she paced across the main garden, at the very edge of the land. Maybe she had left on a mission without informing her. Not that Matilda was in the loop about her professional life, anyway. She came and went as she saw fit, and she could only sit back and bask in Someone's presence when she was home.
Surprisingly enough, their paths were bound to cross once more.
Sonetto was there, where she had least expected her to be. Sitting on her own under a majestic willow tree, right by the lakeside, all busy scribbling on her diary with a gel pen.
Hidden in a bush, Matilda studied her behavior for a while. The girl was off in her world, focused, yet spared a few casual glances to the Foundations’ entrance, where Vertin was currently lingering with her comrades.
“She belongs there,” Matilda mused. “Why doesn’t she go? She knows where her heart rests. It’s not a miserable-looking dead tree that will make her happy.”
It was a bittersweet feeling.
From a purely theoretical point of view, Matilda should be glad things played out that way. The outcome of her reading had discouraged Sonetto’s crush on Vertin, thus opening her heart to a potential new romance. Then, what was preventing her from being happy?
Perhaps it was the pained expression painted all over Sonetto’s face. The hurt in her gaze, the upset pout on her lips. Despite her selfish wishes, Matilda wanted better for her. To see her smile and giggle, even if it meant she wasn’t the cause of her laughter.
Matilda realized then and there, while stalking her crush from behind a bramble like the worst of creeps, that she would rather sacrifice her dreamy future where Sonetto returned her affection, than knowing she was unhappy for a single day.
She left the premises in a hurry.
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*. ──
The guilt churning inside Matilda’s stomach swelled. Hour by hour, day by day, and week by week. Whenever she noticed the longing glances Sonetto cast in Vertin’s way, too shy to approach her like she once did and turning down the Timekeeper’s offer to chat, it grew.
Little by little.
Drop by drop.
Until it became unbearable.
“That’s it. I’ve had enough of this theatrical nonsense.” Matilda slammed a hand on Sonetto’s desk, attracting multiple curious gazes onto her. Not that she cared about any of them and their ignorant opinions, anyway. “Sonetto, you are slowly but surely driving me insane. And it is inconceivable for someone to cause this much grief to me, the mighty diviner Matilda Bouanich.”
Accustomed to her odd act, Sonetto simply smiled at her. Her mouth was curved, yet her eyes brimmed with sadness. “What is this about, Matilda? My apologies for any inconvenience I may have caused you.”
So insufferably naive. So irritatingly oblivious. So maddeningly adorable in her social awkwardness.
“You and I should have a private chat,” she kept up her farce, inflating her chest to speak loud and bodaciously. “Somewhere secret. Far from the ignorant and the scum.”
Sonetto chuckled. “If you so wish.”
What place could be deemed safe from the public’s eye? The Foundation counted hundreds of members (far too many given their lack of utility, in Matilda’s book), swarming every corner of the building.
In the end, her feet led her back to the lonely willow in the garden.
Sonetto walked ahead, pressing a palm on top of the ashen bark. “This is my favorite place,” she confessed. “I come here whenever I feel overwhelmed. When I underperform in an exam, or receive a scolding… This forgotten corner of the wilderness has the soothing silence I seek.”
Matilda swallowed. Yeah, she had a hunch about that. But she couldn’t casually admit that she knew about this, lest she wished to unearth her unhealthy habit of trailing after her.
She cleared her throat. “The breeze ruffles up my hair. Otherwise, it is a most splendid place for a nap,” she commented, approaching the other girl in hesitant steps. “I would perform a reading here.”
Ah, so mean of her. She brought up her skill on purpose, since it was the core of the issue. And as expected, Sonetto reacted— she lowered her head in shame and stared at the tip of her shoes.
It was Matilda’s cue to steer the conversation where she wanted.
“I am sorry about my wording,” she started. Never before had a genuine apology escaped her lips, her fakely inflated ego blocking her from stooping so low. Sonetto was worth humbling down for, though. “I was caught off guard, because I assumed the Timekeeper already returned her feelings. In a goofy attempt at cheering you up, I accidentally offended you more.”
Sonetto smiled again. The same grieving expression as before. “You have nothing to apologize for. I came with a task, and you fulfilled it to perfection,” she stated. “Your words were true, albeit harsh. As long as I keep turning a blind eye to my surroundings and focus on someone I cannot have, I am unworthy of love.”
That’s how she had interpreted Matilda’s line? Had she known this was her perception, she wouldn’t have said sorry in the first place. It was quite the optimistic take on her offensive remark.
“I cannot disagree with you.” Matilda sat on the exposed roots of the tree, finding the perfect spot in between the crevices. “To be completely honest with you, regardless of the reading, I would have given you the same answer.”
Sonetto blinked. “Excuse me? Was your blunt honesty with your divination’s results one of your fortes?”
“It is,” Matilda nodded. “And yet, I have my reasons to discourage you from chasing after the Timekeeper.”
She was putting a lot of herself out there. It was beyond risky to provoke Sonetto on the most sensitive topic, to nibble at her weak points like a filthy sewer rat. It was atonement for her sin, somehow. Punishment for losing her cool and spewing out crap.
Instead of growing angry, which Matilda would have considered to be a valid reaction, Sonetto pressed her lips tightly together. She walked by her side and took a seat on another root, pensive. “And why is that? If you have solid reasons, I will gladly listen.”
“Because I am in love with you.” “Because you’re like the moon, deserving of being accompanied by a star’s twinkling rather than overridden by the sun’s shimmer.” “Because you deserve more than pointless pining.” “Because you’re only underplaying your value by chasing after the unreachable.”
Great ideas, indeed.
Perhaps someday she would be courageous enough to turn them into spoken words.
“I don’t want you two to see one another… romantically,” Matilda said.
Sonetto shot a knowing glance at her. Her amusement was out of place, given the weight of their conversation. Maybe it was a coping mechanism to conceal her hurt. “May I know your arguments against it?”
“Vertin is not a good party,” Matilda blurted out half of her thoughts. Only the acceptable, discreet parts of her sincerity. “Do not misunderstand me— she’s our best Arcanist, and a reliable girl. What I mean is that she’s not good for you . Do you not see that, by striving to catch her eye, you are sinking deeper and deeper into your self-hate?”
Silence fell.
When Matilda peeked out at Sonetto’s side, she forgot how to breathe. The girl was crying in silence, a single lone tear falling down her cheek. Her jaw was open in shock, and for a moment she panicked, wondering if she had taken things too far. It was meant to be reconciliation, not further offense.
Should she apologize again? No, it would do no good. She meant what she had said. Disregarding the details she had purposely left out. Her family hadn’t raised her to be an empty people-pleaser: she wouldn’t back down from her opinion.
Sonetto did not respond. She wiped her face dry with the back of her sleeve, regaining her composure in a flash. Then, without making a single sound, she turned on her heels and left.
Abandoning Matilda to her second-guessing.
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*. ──
A loud knocking on Matilda’s door woke her from her sudden slumber. What time was it? She couldn’t recall falling asleep while copying her notes for tomorrow’s class.
“Come in,” was her response, followed by a yawn. She stretched her back over the chair. Nobody walked into her room at that hour except for her mentor, who had seen her in worse conditions than ruffled-up hair and lumps of magnesia crystals on her cheek.
The door came open in a swing, then closed upon itself. Matilda gathered the paper sheets from her desk and stored them away in her folder, turning around at last to greet her guest.
Sonetto stood in front of her, a shy smile curving her lips.
Frozen on the spot, Matilda widened her eyes, jaw dropping open. A surprise visit by the Foundation’s responsible top-scoring student in the middle of the afternoon was definitely not in her plans for the day.
“Hello there, Matilda,” Sonetto greeted her in a gentle voice. “How are you doing today?”
Matilda blinked. “Are you here for a divination? I haven’t prepared my tools yet, but—”
“No.” Sonetto sat cross-legged at the tea table.
“Then… Do you wish to study together? To borrow my notes?” Matilda settled in front of her, perplexed. “I haven’t followed much this week. I was distracted.”
Sonetto shook her head. “I came for afternoon tea.”
Moderate panic assaulted Matilda. Afternoon tea? Wasn’t that a ritual she usually shared with her closest clique of companions, such as the Timekeeper and her Arcanist friends? She never thought she would someday be invited.
“I realized I usually approach you only when I require a divination,” Sonetto continued, faced with her silence. “I don’t wish to exploit you. I would appreciate it if we became friends.”
Despite the lack of a mirror, Matilda just knew what happened to her face: cheeks flushed, blood rushing to her face, as she accepted and understood Sonetto’s offer. “Is this— Are you getting back at me for the rude words I’ve said?!”
“I am serious.” Sonetto’s smile grew, warmer than the sun. The small braid in her hair gently framed her face, making her eyes shine with a kinder glow. “Let’s get to know each other better, Matilda.”
How many of Matilda’s dreams saw this scenario playing out? Sonetto parting ways with the Timekeeper to favor her company instead. Chatting for hours about their tastes and dislikes, gossiping about fellow Arcanists at the Foundation, until they’d say goodbye in the evening and go to bed with newfound excitement to meet the next morning.
She woke up with damp eyes afterwards, aware that they were nothing more than utopias. Geniuses should stick together, don't they? The motto that justified her appalling lack of friends in her childhood was turning against her. Vertin was a genius; Matilda was a haughty tryhard.
Ah, right. What was an afternoon tea party without any tea? Matilda stood up and headed to the kitchen corner of her room, placing a pot of water over the stove.
“When will I wake up from this dream?” she pondered. “Surely, when I turn around, Sonetto won’t be here anymore. Next thing I know, I’ll be startled awake in my cozy bed sheets.”
Sonetto didn’t disappear.
Ah… Such a pesky girl.
“After you self-invite to have tea…” Matilda heard her own voice tremble in excitement. “The bare minimum respect you could show me is telling me about your favorite pastries to accompany it.”
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*. ──
Given the peculiar nature of the Foundation and its magical immunity to the Storm, not to mention the wondrous tools it produced and the studies it pursued, Matilda had often wondered whether the building stood on a different plane of existence, immune to the effects of time and climate.
The trees in the outlying forest looked stiff and unnaturally bent onto themselves, yet scattered irregularly about. Nothing seemed to age, and no birds or deers roamed the wilderness, though the weather followed an unpredictable cycle just like in the world Matilda had left behind.
“To think we would both forget our umbrellas on a rainy day… How disgraceful of us.”
They were lucky enough to find shelter inside a cave dug through by the thick roots of the acacia trees. It was sunny and bright when they left the dormitory… how could they expect the sudden downpour to come?
Matilda shook her head vehemently, her pigtails swatting drops all around. “Back at home, I have servants carrying umbrellas for me. I am not used to managing myself in this situation.”
“That makes sense. I’ve never had such luxury.”
Cursed with much longer hair, Sonetto had no choice but to slowly undo his twin tails and braids, freeing her orange locks in all their length. Despite the humidity, they looked fluffy and comfortable to caress… Not to mention their healthy glow.
Matilda was staring, suspended between awe and pure envy. There wasn't a single thing Sonetto did that wasn’t the textbook definition of perfection. “Rain is not too bad. Some ingredients can only be harvested when the soil is moist.”
“It’s… difficult to explain.” Sonetto’s gaze was lost on the outside, past beyond the borders of the forest. Towards the main building, their temporary home. “Once you witness the Storm and its effect on those who aren’t protected by the Foundation, your view of rain can’t but be compromised forever.”
Matilda listened to her story, flabbergasted. As the girl told her everything from that fateful night─ Vertin’s plan to stir up her classmates, the short-lived rebellion, the eventual demise of innocent children at the mercy of the Storm’s fury… she frowned deeper and deeper.
Made wary about thoughts of trouble by both her strict family and her own trust issues, Matilda hadn't paid heed to Vertin’s tantalizing words back then. Upon hearing of her classmates’ deaths, the belief she had done the right thing had only consolidated.
She wasn’t aware that Sonetto had witnessed the tragedy first-hand. “You saw them being deleted from the timeline…?”
“I witnessed part of it. Vertin, on the other hand—” Sonetto stopped mid-sentence, lowering her head. “Ah, nevermind. It doesn’t matter anymore. I have learned from my mistakes.”
The prompt change in topics was suspicious. What was she trying to do? In the years she had spent pining over Sonetto, Matilda had never considered Vertin to be a bad person, or forbidden anyone from speaking her name. If it was intentional, it was endearing, albeit unnecessary.
As if to test the waters, Matilda reopened the subject. “Miss Vertin is a kind person.”
“She is, indeed.”
A bitter smile. Was it her divination that had changed Sonetto’s point of view? The request to know Matilda better, their consequent hangouts, and the complete removal of Vertin from their conversations…
“It’s no wonder you admire her so much.”
“Admire? Perhaps.” Sonetto lifted her palms, inspecting the back of her hands. Her fingers were calloused and covered in scratches from the intense practice with her staff. “I think my feelings grew blurry over time. Is it admiration, love, or rather envy?”
Matilda scoffed, recognizing herself within her view. “Envy?”
“Vertin is everything I wish I could be. Smart, charismatic, popular…” Sonetto closed her eyes. “I become tense and nervous whenever I make small talk. I fail to make the right choices under pressure. And following my heart is a challenge.”
Matilda furrowed her brow. “You do not seem to have this issue with me.”
“I don’t.” Sonetto’s mouth opened slightly, as if she was realizing the truth only now. “You’re right. Or perhaps, you’re simply special, Matilda.”
The melodic chuckle that followed thawed Matilda’s heart.
“Ah… Of course, of course,” she coughed to mask her inner turmoil. Even if, as usual, she figured her reddened cheeks gave it away. “I, the amazing Matilda Bouanich, am one of a kind! You should be grateful I accompany myself with you!”
Another giggle— pretty much the most gorgeous sound Matilda had ever heard. “I am.” Their hands brushed together, and neither of them pulled away. It was tough not to get any ideas. “ So grateful. Thank you.”
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*. ──
“Stand still; I have almost finished.”
On that day, curled up on herself on the couch of her room, Matilda learned that a human’s skin can burn up in a dozen different ways.
Blood rushed to the painful throb of her scratches, making her shin and knee flare with a bothersome sting. Yet, it was nothing in comparison to the embers painting her cheeks red every time Sonetto’s slender fingers brushed against her bare thigh.
She shook her head vehemently, trying once again to pull the fabric away from Sonetto’s grasp. “I-I told you. There’s no need to burden yourself with this,” she muttered. “It’s a small hole. Nobody will see it.”
“And let the almighty Matilda Bouanich roam the Foundation with a tear in her uniform?” Sonetto scoffed dramatically. “There is no way I can allow that.”
It was endearing, yes. But Matilda wished there were other ways. Had either of them been a little more careful, they would have realized that the smartest way to mend clothes was to take them off.
For some reason, instead, Sonetto had chosen to patch it up while Matilda was still wearing it, perhaps not to embarrass her by having her strip in someone’s presence.
It had become natural for them to hang casually, now, within the cozy walls of her room. Matilda hadn’t seen Sonetto’s yet, and she had a feeling that the owner herself didn’t feel at ease there. So, they settled for her hideout, as cold and packed with weird ingredients and crystal balls as it was.
“You can even sew.” The comment slipped past her lips.
Sonetto didn’t lift her gaze, focused on the skirt. “I’m well-versed in the basic skills of daily life,” she said. “Cooking, sewing, cleaning… I was raised to be a caretaker, and it came spontaneously to me with so many younger companions at the Foundation.”
“That’s convenient,” Matilda sneered. “You’re the textbook definition of a perfect wife.”
Crap, what was she saying?! The skin-to-skin contact must have driven her mad. Their gazes met awkwardly, and Matilda prayed to the deities above that she could sink into the floor and never resurface.
She wasn’t sure whether the person Sonetto was looking at was her, or rather Vertin. And, as if offering her the forbidden fruit of an answer she was yearning for, a faint veil of pink coated Sonetto’s face.
“Ah, I suppose so.” She focused on her sewing, acting nonchalant. “I don’t see marriage as a fit ceremony for any Arcanist, though.”
Matilda didn’t dare to chase her eyes. What was shifting between them; how was their bond mutating? She was used to her own skittish reactions to Sonetto’s every move, but the opposite was… novel. And scary, if she had to be frank.
“I agree.”
Was it foolish of her to hope for something bigger?
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*. ──
The white chill of frost enveloped the landscape, under the aurora’s watchful gaze. Silence was the real governor of the snowy plains. Matilda’s ears couldn’t catch a single sound in the distance, except for the drilling howls of the wind.
Wrapped up in her thick fur coat, she wasn’t cold. Maybe she was used to this, after spending long days of punishment back in the garden shed amidst storms and hail. Or, perhaps, the fire igniting in the pit of her stomach when Sonetto’s silhouette appeared over the horizon was enough to keep her warm.
“Vertin went the other way.”
Instinctively, Matilda put up a wall of venom. She pointed in the direction of the town’s outskirts, where the real action was about to unravel. She was not going to be part of that— the rest of the team, however, must.
Sonetto didn’t move.
“Did you hear me?!” Matilda raised her voice so it wouldn’t be devoured by the wind’s laments. “There is only me here, looking for herbs. I saw Vertin and the others—”
“I know.” One step forward, then two.
Matilda’s senses tingled. She swallowed, her heartbeat thumping in her ears. Was Sonetto alright? Was she possessed? She had heard tales of monsters capable of controlling the human mind, and also of Arcanists turning against their kind to pursue different goals.
On paper, the Bouanich family could afford to pay a bountiful ransom. Had someone seized Sonetto’s mind to come and kidnap her? Were the rest of their friends okay, or were they the first victims?
She drew out her crystal ball, ready to defend herself. “What do you mean?”
“I know that you came out here with a mission.” Sonetto buried her hands deep into the pockets of her coat, to show she wasn’t seeking confrontation. “The Timekeeper tasked you, a knowledgeable potionist, to seek spontaneous plants able to win the winter frost.”
Matilda frowned, and lowered her weapon. “If you knew, then why—”
“Why did I not go with the others?” Sonetto anticipated her. Such elation was… out of character. It made Matilda’s guts curl up in an awful feeling. “Because I wanted to speak with you.”
No, not again. The Matilda she was searching for lay abandoned in the past, stowed away in the abyss of her mind.
Regrettably, Matilda was the one who pulled away first. She cowered in fear after the skirt incident. The embarrassment in their conversation after her careless remark about marriage, the blush on their cheeks, the rising tension, the stolen kiss once Sonetto was done…
It was too much.
Despite her big words, Matilda did not believe she truly deserved her honors. Even casting her skills as an Arcanist aside, which she had worked and sweated hard for, everything she owned was stolen property.
Benefits acquired thanks to her family’s prestige. Endorsement gifted to her to gain favors from the Bouanich lineage. Camaraderie shared to acquire an accessible cheat code for difficult exams. And Sonetto’s love, hauled away from Vertin.
She had corrupted Sonetto’s pure crush with her lowly, wrong divinations and her filthy, profiteering hands.
Avoiding Sonetto for the following month was the toughest challenge she had ever braved. And when Vertin recruited them both for the same mission, Matilda had begged her to assign her duties that would keep them apart. Without any explanation, of course.
“Aren’t you supposed to seek potential Arcanists to bring back and educate?” Matilda protested. “You’re wasting your time here. There’s nothing but ice and wind.”
Sonetto shook her head. “Druvis and Regulus took over my job. I am free from any duty as of now.”
“What?! But why—”
With a single magical hop, Sonetto closed the gap between their bodies and landed gracefully at her side. “Matilda, why did you start avoiding me?”
Thus began Matilda’s downfall.
“You’re delusional,” she denied the obvious evidence, her head low to dodge any inquiring glances. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was busy with—”
Sonetto grabbed her arm. Her grip was firm, yet not fierce enough to hurt. “I want the truth, Matilda. Your class hasn’t seen an exam in weeks, and yet you were harder to find than a needle in a critter field.”
Matilda found the courage to look up. Genuine sadness veiled Sonetto’s gray eyes, and her lower lip trembled. This, this was the reason why she had preferred to part ways: there was no good outcome in sight. Rejection was inevitable if she confessed, shattering Matilda’s heart and ruining their bond forever.
Neither of them had a happily-ever-after finale awaiting.
Had the moment of fate come, at last? Matilda may as well be digging her own grave. But well, when was she ever good at anything else? Was doom not what she signed up for when she let Sonetto in her room for some divination about romance?
She inhaled sharply.
“Because things were evolving,” she blurted out. “Because I have been fawning over you for years— a lifetime, even. I admired you, liked you, loved you, but… but you had nothing to give me. Your eyes were glued on someone else’s back, and there was no way to divert your attention.”
Sonetto’s grip loosened. “Continue.”
“Then you came for that divination.” Matilda teared up, not used to uncovering her cards so openly, revealing her inner schemings. “And everything went spiraling afterwards. We spent time together, grew closer, and… it got worse.”
The heat on her wrist disappeared as Sonetto let go of her at last. “Worse?”
“Worse,” Matilda nodded. “Because I feel like there is no going back.”
Regardless of people’s love for gray hues, the world was rather black and white. They could pursue the path of romance, or let their friendship die. Heated crushes and serene friendships could not coexist.
Sonetto didn’t reply. She tilted her head to stare at the far horizon, where the clouds and the ground melted in a single, plain white canvas. Even the furious howling of the winds seemed to have come to a halt, as if the deities were also listening in on their conversation.
“Matilda,” Sonetto said after a long pause. “What do you think of me now?”
The tears pooling at the corners of Matilda’s eyes breached her self-control and turned into streams falling down her cheeks. Her face was numb from the grief in her heart. Was that how it ended? The sad epilogue of her year-long pining story?
“I love you,” she confessed. “I pulled away because I feared it would be too much for both of us to handle.”
“You see… I knew.” Sonetto rested her hands on top of Matilda’s. She shivered, and the crystal ball fell onto the frozen grass in a sad thump. Warmth and magic sparked in between their joined fingers. “I’ve known for a long time. Your admiration had bordered the crush for quite a while. At first, I entertained it without much thought. Now…”
Matilda glanced shyly at their hands. “Now?”
“Now, I am the same. I love you too.” Sonetto smiled wide, her eyes also damp with a hint of tears. “I am not good with feelings, but, if you’re patient with me, we can make it work.”
Make it work?
Sonetto— That Sonetto had just admitted to being in love with her?
Matilda’s legs gave in. She squirmed out of the other’s reach, completely defeated by the sudden information overload. And as she felt her shoe slipping on the ice, and the ground sliding away from underneath her…
…Sonetto held her arm behind her waist and pressed their mouths together in a quick, bruising peck. “Careful,” she hummed as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn’t just taken Matilda’s world and flipped it upside down in a matter of seconds. “You’ll get hurt.”
“You—” Matilda stuttered. “You’re—”
She never had a chance to finish her sentence. Matilda turned on her heels and dashed ahead, too flustered to utter a syllable.
The sweet sound of Sonetto’s laughter accompanied her in her grand escape.
“You’re too perfect, damn it!”
“By the way, your divination was incorrect. You forgot to add liquefied terror to your ingredients.”
“You did not tell me you were in love with the Timekeeper, and I did not want to admit it to myself.”
“Ah, I see. How sly of you.”
“...Why are you holding my hand tighter?!”