Bellavarn grabbed his coat and was about to head out when a figure slipped into the library. April waved with the book she was holding.
"I'm back~ I finished the book you recommended, The Stalwart Three. It was sad, but it had a lot of fun conversations."
"Isn't that the third book in as many days?"
"Oh. This is nothing. Short ones only take a few hours. I get to use enchanted glasses whenever I want because of my work at the Grand Library."
"Enchanted glasses…"
How would such an abstract enchantment function? Bellavarn was sure he jotted down a note reminding him to look into that. An enchantment that enabled someone to absorb information faster was revolutionary, but it wasn't being properly utilized.
"Doesn't that detract from the mood if you are reading so fast?"
April leaned on her heels. Her curly locks swayed as she shook her head.
"Nope. Most of my work is categorizing, but I still go through each emotion at a normal pace."
Whoever invented it must have a biography written down somewhere. If he got through his current projects, that would likely be his next area of study.
Looping an arm through a thick winter jacket, Bellavarn mused on how much longer it would be required. The winter chill was determined to make a second pass before allowing the snow to finally melt.
"Can I recommend you something else, or are you stocked up on reading material?"
"I am okay. I'm busy with work. Did you get a chance to read The Fated Vestige I lent you?"
Bellavarn looked at the unopened book lying on his desk. Honestly, he thought he would have more time. He was recently struck by inspiration, thinking of a new way to develop the leylines on his device. Bellavarn was in a fugue all morning and only recently came out of it.
"I haven't had the chance. I'll crack the spine when I get back; I have to head out before it gets dark."
April stopped bouncing.
"I was hoping we could spend some time together. I had something I wanted to share."
"I won't be long, you can wait here if you'd like. You're free to browse what I have as long as you put it back where it was."
April looked down at the rug.
"Is it rude to ask if I can come along? I'd like to spend some more time together, outside of the study and away from books…"
Her words were so meek towards the end, as if books were all she knew.
"Normally I'd say the more the merrier, but this is a personal matter."
"I-I won't be a bother. Just sharing the carriage ride would be more than enough."
Bellavarn finished buttoning his coat. Putting on his gloves, he sighed. He felt conflicted about telling her no. The problem was that he really didn't want to bring her. He left his door open all day for her or others to drop by. This was supposed to be his time.
Sighing… he relented.
"You can come; on the condition that you absolutely do not give me whatever you were planning to."
Her celebratory cheer was cut short. She drooped.
"I don't understand."
"You can give it to me another day if you insist on joining me. Or you can wait here and give it to me upon my return. It is your choice. Just know, if you choose to give it to me while we are out… I will reject it."
He kept his voice level and his gaze stern, impressing the seriousness of his words.
April turned downcast. This wasn't what she hoped, but she respected Bellavarn's boundaries.
"What I have can wait. May I accompany you?"
Bellavarn straightened his jacket.
"I said I would allow it, so I will. Is your jacket downstairs?"
"It is. Will we be traveling far?"
"It's ten minutes by carriage. I will meet you down in the entrance hall in a few minutes. Go ahead and wait for me there."
"Okay."
Bellavarn walked out the door, ushering April with him. Closing it, he turned and walked wordlessly down the left corridor. April hid the handkerchief she'd been holding onto and followed behind.
April pondered. If this were official Sallow business, she wouldn't have been allowed to join him. Bellavarn alluded that this was a personal excursion. One where he preferred to be alone and had to complete before nighttime. That meant it would most likely occur outside where the temperature dropped below freezing after sunset.
It would help if April had some clues as to where they were going, but Bellavarn hadn't given her any.
Until she saw him walking down the stairs.
Her eyes immediately honed in on the flowers in his hand. Her first thought was, "Those can't be for me, can they?". Her second thought was, "Of course, they are for me." The third thought, as he approached, was, "Oh no. They aren't for me." Her fourth, fifth, and sixth thoughts spiraled out of control as Bellavarn only nodded to her before leading the way to the waiting carriage.
"Same place as usual, master Bellavarn?"
"Yes. Thank you for keeping it a secret, Nem."
Same place as usual?
A secret?
What did I just get myself into?
This is more nerve-wrecking than when I mistook Lady Fresca's earhorn for a stein.
"Are you still coming?"
Was it too late to say no? April didn't want to know. Better remain ignorant of any competition. If she were to meet another lady like this…
"Ahaha… Of course."
Letting out a dejected laugh, she accepted Bellavarn's hand and climbed into the carriage.
April's mind was a mess. A catastrophe.
Inside her head, Mini-Aprils were in a panic, throwing files into the trash and setting them on fire. The chibi versions of herself sputtered as they threw up entirely unrelated images onto a gameboard, smacking the images with accusations and adding red yarn to connect the dots.
"An engineer. It's definitely a famous female engineer whose helping him with his magic doohickeys."
The Mini-Aprils crossed-out pictures using red lipstick.
"Is it one of those specialty crafters? Didn't he talk about a Kerv working in the ceramics studio? Is Kerv a girl's name? Someone tell me!"
Their eye twitched manically.
The miniature carbon copies sat around a table shouting accusations, deciding who was to blame for the situation they'd gotten themselves into.
"Is Whose idea was to be pushy and follow him to his secret rendevous, huh? Huh!? Was it you? You? "
"Nuh-uh. "
"Nope. "
"Don't go looking at me."
"Please tell me it's not Jan from Customer Service. I will literally bottom out all the ice cream we have if it's our coworker."
"There were plenty of other unspoken for Ladies prettier than we are. More available. More qualifications and fewer freckles."
One of the Mini-Aprils introduced wine into the conversation, and everything turned up several degrees in severity. The table was tossed. A fire was started. The wallpaper ripped off. Mini-Aprils ran around screaming, waving their hands in the air, brawling, and throwing cups.
Then it all stopped.
"Lavender looks good on you; it brings out the yellows in your hair."
"Huh?"
All the Mini-Aprils paused in their actions, gaping in astonishment. One of them coughed, putting out the fire with a pitcher of water.
The real April, back in reality, stared blankly at Bellavarn sitting kiddie corner to her. He wore a dark blue overcoat that made his eyes twinkle. His blond hair was neatly groomed, just below his ears, and brushed back off his forehead. A pair of flowers rested on his lap, catching her eye in the periphery.
"It was a good choice. Ginger hair can be misinterpreted as red more often than not. Derived from the so-called 'red-head'; however, there is a lot of yellow in the underlying tones. Wearing a lavender coat backdrops your hair nicely. Lavender also relaxes me more than your usual brightly colored clothes."
"…"
Back inside her head, the gaggle of Mini-Aprils reset their chairs and picked up the table together. Sitting down, they discussed this new development.
Is it a ploy?
Colors? Yellow?"
He likes purple?
It relaxes him.
How do we respond?
I think we embarrassed him. Look, he is staring back out the window.
The April in charge made a decision, and she finally spoke aloud.
"I don't think anyone has thoroughly analyzed both my hair and my clothes before."
She watched Bellavarn scratch his cheek, trying to hide a slight blush.
"Yes. Well. I know a thing or two about color, and you seemed lost in thought, so I thought I would try breaking the spell."
Had she seen this side of him yet?
The compliment was a little out there, but it was thoughtful and sweet.
Bellavarn clearly became uncomfortable in the silence because he continued speaking.
"Have you had a chance to meet Denice at the mansion? She sometimes daydreams as well. I could see you two being friends."
"Denice?"
Bellavarn nodded, gazing out the window.
"One of the maids. Black droopy hair, always tucking a piece behind her ear? She has a soothing voice that perks up when speaking about tea. We share some every few days, but she's really particular about handling the porcelain herself, and won't let me add an abundant amount of sugar cubes."
April thought she could remember seeing such a maid on her second day visiting. She'd been sitting, drinking tea with Bellavarn when April entered. She barely noticed the maid picking up and leaving.
"You know a lot about one of your maids."
Bellavarn shrugged.
"I take the time to spend moments with each of the staff when I can. I neglected to get to know them previously. Potter, in particular, has the luck of the devil. I can never beat him at dice. Maybe I just don't understand how it works. It shouldn't be impossible to get one lucky roll, right?"
"I couldn't say."
"And Cynthia is even more reserved than Denise. I can't get her to speak excitedly about anything. She always sits there with her pursed lips, eternally amused by something. I think she is the type who finds solace in working simply to work. Getting her to relax and open up is a task in itself."
"I see…"
"I think Kerv likes her. I could see him eyeing her from across the room. I tried to set them up once. What a failure that was. It was worse than when I tried to pry Vienna from her soup station. Consumed by soup, that one. Never parts from the pot. The only way she goes home at night is if Misses Vale whacks her with a ladle."
"No. Really?"
"Really! I've been on the receiving end of a few whacks myself, and they are not pleasant. I pity her husband sometimes."
"You know her husband?"
"I've met him once. He lost a hand during his service, yet he still manages to wrangle six children all day."
"Six!"
"That was my reaction!"
…
It took some time, but the longer she listened to Bellavarn speak, the more enthralled she became. Each person had their own story. Their own background and personality. Bellavarn brought each of them to life as he talked about them. They were less like employees and more like coworkers. Peers or Colleagues. Friends!
April was jealous. There were significantly fewer staff in her house. Even with fewer faces to remember, April didn't know all their names. Talking with them always made her feel like a fool. They never matched up to the vivid characters she read about. None were heroes or princesses. But maybe, if she got to know them, their stories could be told. What hidden gems could she find? What has she been missing by retreating into paper?
Perhaps… She could make friends outside of her head.
"We're here, master Bellavarn."
Nem, the carriage driver, called out.
"Already? That was fast."
Bellavarn swiftly sobered.
"Alright. Wait here. I will be back soon."
April peeked out the window, her eyes widening. Was this where Bellavarn had personal business?
But this is…
"Wait."
Bellavarn stopped. His hand was on the handle. His expression morphed into blank stone.
"Wait…"
April became less certain.
"Can I? Join you, I mean?"
Bellavarn stared. He gazed into April's green eyes, making her look away.
"I'll be silent, I promise."
"Don't make a promise you can't keep."
April could say nothing to that. How could she? There would undoubtedly be a time when she felt the need to speak. Countless questions already ticked her. How could she resist? All April could do was examine the lines of her gloves in shame. She traveled this far thinking traitorous thoughts. Bellavarn not only pulled April out of her brief funk but lit a spark in her that she didn't know she needed.
She sat in silence, waiting for him to exit, but he never did.
"You can follow if you wish."
April held her tongue and only nodded. Bellavarn stepped out, the cold air marching in.
Taking a deep breath, she followed.
Snow drifted off the beaten path and onto nearby grass. April took note of how the path weaved and curved naturally, instead of being in a straight line. Bellavarn's steps crunched loudly as they traversed a less-traveled path. He knew where he was going and didn't bother stopping along the way.
A rare cedar tree dotting the barren landscape allowed a shaded sanctuary. Snow gleamed off the bare branches, a dilapidated bird's nest rested on the tallest limb. Intermittent chirping could be heard over the crunch of snow and wind blowing past April's ears.
Winter lasted extra long this year, but nature was slowly returning. Soon, the rest of the snow would melt. Leaves would grow anew, and spring flowers would bud. Bees will harvest their nectar, and animals will peek out from hibernation. Life would thrive.
But not yet.
The chirping cut off as the bird's nest toppled from a sharp wind.
It was still too early. Winter was cruel. Suffocating and silent. Unwilling to go away.
April halted her steps, stopping a few feet away from Bellavarn. He looked down at a small stone plaque. The writing was crude, but the intent was clear.
Astel Cross
The name didn't ring any bells. It sounded like a woman's name, but April couldn't be sure.
She watched as Bellavarn bent down, placing some flowers in a nearby holder. Then he did the same for the adjacent grave.
Paul Cross
The white lilies accompanied the older ones. Three flowers in each after Bellavarn removed the two most withered. Rocking on his toes, falling back, Bellavarn sat in the snow—no place better to sit as he monitored the stationary graves.
This wasn't a place the upper class would have reason to visit. The small graveyard plot wasn't even fenced in, and was far off from any houses or infrastructure. It was easy to miss if you didn't know where to look.
She tried to prevent herself from shifting her feet, but it was cold, and the wind was biting.
"Come. Sit. I'll prepare a Heat spell."
April cautiously stepped over, watching Bellavarn pull out a piece of paper. Flashing, the area around them heated to a more comfortable temperature. The wind objected but was unable to blow within the circumference of the spell.
Notably warmer, April adjusted her clothes and sat down in the snow, holding her knees. She looked at the graves absently, not knowing what to do or say. This was Bellavarn's moment, and he seemed to be lost in it.
She shouldn't have insisted on coming. Had April known he was visiting a graveyard at first, she would have waited at the mansion. Her curiosity kept getting the better of her.
Now she understood why he didn't want to receive her gift. He couldn't have known what it was, but the meaning behind it would sully this moment.
Hugging her knees closer, she didn't know how much time passed. It was probably only a few minutes, but it felt ages longer, the silence unbearable.
"You are probably wondering who they are."
She didn't dare speak.
The silence hummed.
Bellavarn breathed out.
"These are Lannie's parents. Jeral's too."
The wind broke in past the barrier, ruffling April's curly hair. Bellavarn absently snapped another spell scroll, expelling the wind.
"Lannie is the kindest and most warm-hearted person I've ever known. Not a mean bone in her body. She can make friends with anyone and always sees the bright side. She practically is the bright side."
April heard a chirp from the fallen bird's nest.
"Jeral, her brother, is just a guard, but I value his insight as much as I value Kerv's friendship and Henry's intellect. He taught me values in perspective, and somehow always has wise words to say. I hope to be as good a brother to my future sibling as Jeral is to Lannie."
A second bird cry joined the first.
"Their parents never made it to his knighting ceremony and couldn't congratulate Lannie on becoming a maid in a Ducal household."
The cries continued, unanswered.
April's heart clenched.
"Lannie Cross was one of the first to accept me after the world made me a villain. They would be proud to know their little girl grew up to be so sweet and forgiving."
Bellavarn leaned forward, resting a hand on the Astel's gravestone..
"They would be proud that their son still watches over his little sister…"
April sniffed.
The birds went silent.
Bellavarn leaned back, gloved hands holding him up as he watched the puffy clouds glide across the sky.
"They aren't my parents. I know that. But I come here and wonder… Are they still watching? Are they proud?"
April sniffed again, pulling at Bellavarn's sleeve.
"Definitely! Of course they are. You said it yourself. Any parent would wish their child the best."
It was hard to take the words seriously seeing April's face. Bellavarn smiled sullenly, wiping her tears with his sleeve.
"The dead don't speak."
"Well. I will speak for them. They say they are proud."
Bellavarn's smile developed into a frown, his eyes drooping as he gazed back at the graves. How could April understand that the names and bodies buried beneath didn't matter? These were his parents. Bellavarn thought he might have gotten to see them in death, but he couldn't have been more wrong. This gentle place and the bodies of strangers gave him a way to speak to his parents after traveling a world away.
Were they wandering that void of endless pain as well? Had they been reborn the same as him? Did they remember him?
Their son, who dropped out of school and became a useless, good-for-nothing layabout. The pitiable son who wasted his only life and now has to piggyback someone else's. The fragile son who threw away his life after falling for the wrong girl. He belittled all the hard work they put into raising him.
And not once did he get to visit their graves…
He felt arms wrap around him. Warmth spread through him as he breathed in a floral perfume. She shook slightly as she held him, her face buried in his shoulder.
"You don't have to cry for them. They aren't your parents."
"I know that. Crying would be silly."
April unburied her face and peered up at him.
"Then, why are you?"
Bellavarn felt at his face, his hand coming away wet from silent tears.
"Oh. I didn't realize."
April pulled away, holding him at arm's length.
"I don't understand. I don't. But I do. I do understand."
"Hah~. You're not making any sense."
"I understand you are sad. Not why. But I do. I can feel for them. And you. The story isn't written, but I can sense the sadness. You are sad. I am sad. It is okay to be sad."
"There are other words you can use."
"Crying isn't a bad thing. I cry when a book character dies. I cried when I stubbed my toe. It is okay to cry."
"You are just comforting yourself because you cried when stubbing your toe."
"Do you have to be like this?"
"I can't help it. It's my defense mechanism."
April held Bellavarn's shoulders so he couldn't move or look away. Her green eyes didn't shy away no matter how many words flowed out.
"I know the world is a scary place. My parents are so protective, they don't let me leave the house; they're afraid I'll be harmed, or I'll contract vicious freckles. I can only work at the library because my father has a job there, and I can hardly say I have more than one close friend. I didn't see the point in going out anymore but then-"
April shook his shoulders when he tried looking away.
"I saw you! You took care of the people when they were cursing your name. You fed them when they were starving. You were like a hero from the stories! Even if my mother hated the idea, I wanted to meet you. I convinced my parents that you weren't an evil monster like people want to believe. I wanted to meet you. To get to know you."
She sighed at the stupid smile she felt worming onto her face.
"I didn't think you'd be so into books like me."
"I like them a bit."
"You like them a lot. But there are other things you love. Like talking with the people around you. Your friends at the mansion. I don't have that. Just books and stories."
Bellavarn gently removed her hands from his shoulders, placing them down.
"You can come over and talk books any time you want. I haven't stopped you, have I?"
"No, I didn't mean to say that I am unhappy. Relating is the only way I can communicate. I am not conceited. Really!"
Bellavarn plopped back in the snow, facing the sky. He smirked.
"I know. That was just my defense mechanism talking."
April arched one eyebrow.
"You did that on purpose."
"I don't know, did I?"
April scoffed and fell, lying in the snow as well.
"You're playing with me."
"No, really. Thank you for your kind words. They meant a lot."
She eyed him, but he'd gone back to an unreadable expression. Gazing up at the sky instead, she marveled at how high the clouds soared. Was it possible to land on them and ride them to the next country over? Could she tour the world like that? Watch the world unfold like a book?
Bellavarn wondered if his parents were watching him through those clouds. The obtuse gray shapes drifting over a planet not his own. An unfamiliar reality and an unrecognizable body. Would they care? He would give the world to see them one more time. But he knew even in death it was an impossibility.
"Graveyards can be depressing."
"I think that is why no one is here."
"True."
Comfortable silence reigned as the two watched the clouds form different shapes. The wind shrieked, breaking the barrier of warmth once again. April's hair poked her in the eye, and Bellavarn blocked a tuft of snow from blowing into his face.
"Pfft. Pf. Pfft. Ick. Yuck. It's in my mouth now."
April tried to blow the hair away, but it wormed into her mouth instead. Bellavarn chuckled.
"Alright. We should go before the wind gets really angry."
"Pft. I… Pfft. I think I can live with that."
Bellavarn helped April to her feet, dusting himself off. They faced one another, reevaluating recent revelations.
The wind smacked them across the face.
Screeching, they both ran for the carriage.