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Alita Renworth slept quite beautifully.
She had learnt, at some point, that if you had a chance to sleep through the night then you should take it. Many were her nights disturbed, scandal afoot or lovers begging for attention, and while days of late had been far more subdued she still felt a sense of relief when, laying back against a cushion, she could close her eyes and know she would not be intruded upon.
It was unfortunate that she didn't have a bed, certainly, but not overly worrisome. And if she felt a slight discomfort at the knowledge the last sound she heard before closing her eyes was the sound of that maid laughing on the other side of her door, well, the world was a show and it was only fair that sometimes other people imagined they were the star.
Seeing as it was obvious her inclination about Mariette Renio's absence had been right, that pitchy laughter as much an assertion as she had expected to receive, Alita wasn't worried about anyone bothering her until well into the next day and so she had no qualms about getting as comfortable as she could on the floor and sleeping a dreamless sleep.
Awakening to the stench of mould was, also, not ideal, but she enjoyed the dark of the small room, the stillness of the air, as if she were trapped in a long lost moment in time and as the world around her moved on she, Alita Renworth, would be memorialised here and now.
But she also didn't like the idea of being suffocated by spores so, brushing off the skirts of her eighth favourite visiting gown, the tinkling of the beadwork musical against her nails, she made for the door and opened it at once, the idea it may have remained locked not even crossing her mind.
She hadn't taken in a great deal of the network of passageways the girl had walked to deliver her to her room, no more than she noticed anything, so it was with perfect accuracy that she turned left, walked down a corridor bereft of ornamentation but for a stuffed quail covered in dust, took another left and pushed open the door before her.
'Josephine Lera, I thought I heard you talking to yourself,' she said, staring down at the form of the royal princess's former lover.
Alita had always liked Josephine. She was so sweet and hapless, her need for approval and attentions to the princess making her the perfect friend to grow Alita's network, although she wasn't as willing to share secrets as she might have seemed, and for some reason - probably the princess's influence - she wasn't attentive to Alita, tending to avoid her at soirées and garden parties even when Alita very kindly brought to her attention the devastation she could wreak on her life.
She liked Josephine even more after that, the fire in the girl something she recognised within herself. She liked that the girl didn't cave like most society types did, liked that she didn't threaten Alita or even have the princess attempt to remove her from the royal guest list. She liked that Josephine Tera had met her gaze and said nothing, instead forcing Alita to hunt down her secrets with no help whatsoever, a task she had become quite unused to in a time of duchesses flaunting their affairs and lords hardly caring if their wives cared about their friends in the cavalry.
Alita liked to think that she wouldn't have used her ammunition if Josephine hadn't forced her hand, but she knew herself well enough to realise that was nonsense. Because as much as Alita liked the princess's toy, she liked watching people fall from their pedestals far more and the princess deserved to fall a long, long way- and if she took Josephine with her, well, it was all part of the game.
It wasn't her fault if they had tricked themselves into believing they weren't playing.
Josephine said nothing, staring at Alita as if she didn't believe what she was seeing, delivering a certain boost to her confidence that only came with awed silence or applause. She noted the anger in the girl's gaze, the disarray of her usually shining black hair, the bags beneath her eyes, but wasn't unduly worried, not even when Josephine rose swiftly and began moving towards her.
It was a bit concerning once the girl had her hands wrapped around Alita's neck and began squeezing, though, nails digging into her windpipe and threatening to leave a truly ghastly set of bruises.
'You're not still mad are you, darling?' she gagged, sucking in an almighty breath and slapping Josephine's hands, the crush of her knuckles grinding into Josephine's wrist the thing that made her let go and allowed Alita to bend delicately at the waist and clear her head.
'The court,' she wheezed, massaging her throat and wondering where she might procure a mirror, 'is not worth it.'
'I'm not mad at the court,' Josephine spat, and it was this that surprised Alita most of all. The girl had always seemed so quiet, her words seldom louder than a swallow's call and very rarely longer. She wondered if it would be correct for her to take credit for this evolution and decided it would, for even if the girl had not taken lessons she had certainly been trained well.
'Oh, but you should be,' Alita sighed, straightening and shooting Josephine a wry smile. 'They're the ones who landed us here.'
'You,' she spat right back, glowering a frightful thing, 'are the one who landed us here! You and your- your- your'-
'Scandals?' Alita offered helpfully, watching as Josephine picked up a book, some fairytale or other, and flung it at her.
'Your LIES!' she screamed, balling her fists and knocking them into her own sides, breathing deeply. 'You lied about everything!'
'Now you know that isn't true, dear. And you know, I wish I hadn't had to do it, but your friend was going to have me removed from court and I couldn't'-
'She wasn't my friend,' Josephine sobbed, a single fist landing against Alita's chest and lingering there. The two stood, barely a foot apart, and Alita watched the way Josephine shook, barely restraining herself from doing any number of things, her hand shaking where it pressed hotly against Alita's skin. 'I loved her!'
'Love is transactional, dear. There's really no need to make it personal.' Alita went so far as to pat Josephine's hand, narrowing her eyes when she found her own hand clutched in a painful grasp.
'Maybe for you.'
'You've been reinstated, then? You'll be returning to court when, exactly?' Josephine's eyes dipped and Alita continued, her own assault always honed from words rather than fists. 'Her Royal Highness is collecting you from Madam Renio, is that correct? Will you be back in her bed tonight?'
Josephine ground her teeth, tears sliding down her puffy face, but Alita took her other hand and would not let her step away.
'Tell me, Miss Lera. Is all forgiven in court?'
'Why did you have to do it?' she whispered, so pained she could barely speak the words. 'You could've just let me be happy.'
'Princess Rin made life difficult for me. So I made life difficult for her. It's nothing personal. You'll get back up, the game is only ever paused and together we'-
'It's not a game!'
Alita laughed. 'You stupid, naive girl. If it wasn't a game, how do you think any of us would be able to get away with half of what we do? It is the game, Josephine. You should have listened when I first told you that.'
'I hate you.' Josephine sniffed, wiping her cheeks and looking up at Alita with such hatred it made her own heart burn.
'I know,' she said, patting her gently on the shoulder, adjusting the line of her shirt and brushing back a strand of her hair, caring until the last.
'I'll kill you. One day I will.'
'I know,' Alita repeated, face softening into a smile as she took the girl's hand and led her back into the game.
-
And there you are, knowing a mysterious woman a little bit better. We shall reconvene in the next chapter.