As the days went on, Clea's role in Xiaolan's life shifted from that of a strict caretaker to something more. Every time Xiaolan had to deal with her moonblood, Clea was there. She handled it all—taking the stained cloth, burning it with her magic, replacing the sheets. She even showed Xiaolan how to fold the mooncloth properly and how to make sure no one would find out. She was strict about it, but always in a way that made Xiaolan feel safer, more secure.
One evening, after a particularly tough day where Xiaolan had retreated back into her silence, Clea found her sitting alone on the edge of the bed, her head bowed. The moonlight filtered through the window, casting soft shadows around the room.
"You're not going to sulk forever, are you?" Clea's voice broke the silence, but it wasn't harsh. There was a teasing lilt to it, though it was also firm. "You know, you're getting real good at this 'brooding alone' thing."
Xiaolan didn't reply, but she couldn't help but let a small, broken smile tug at her lips.
"Oh, don't give me that look," Clea said, walking over and sitting next to her. "I'm serious. You're too pretty to waste away like this."
Xiaolan blinked, startled at the compliment, though her face flushed with the attention. She didn't know how to respond to something like that. She'd been so focused on her grief that she hadn't noticed how her appearance had changed.
Clea nudged her lightly. "Come on, get up. I'm taking you to the garden."
Xiaolan looked up at her, her eyes filled with uncertainty.
The garden lay still beneath the pale moonlight, the silence broken only by the soft chirping of crickets.
The air was cool, the scent of earth and blooming flowers mixing with the night. Xiaolan and Clea walked side by side, their footsteps soft against the path, the world around them quiet, as though waiting for something to stir.
The moon hung high above, casting silver beams through the leaves, and for a moment, everything felt timeless, as if the night itself held its breath.
Clea held a small ember in her palm, its glow casting warm light on the petals around them.
"Did you know your parents?" she asked, crouching to admire a blossom, her voice casual, almost detached.
"Not really," Xiaolan replied, gaze low. "I remember my mom's face… but not her name. They took me when I was so young. I just called her Mama."
Clea gave a short, dry laugh. "My mom was a whore."
Xiaolan blinked. "What's a whore?"
Clea smirked without looking up. "A woman who sells her body for coin. Just like you might… when the time comes."
Xiaolan flinched slightly, her hand pausing on a flower's stem.
"And your father?" she asked softly.
Clea stood, brushing dust from her knees. "A knight. Famous one." She scoffed. "Guess he tossed me in here to hide his shame. Can't parade around with a whore's daughter."
Xiaolan looked down, fingertips brushing across the petals. "That's… awful."
Clea stopped walking. Turned. Her voice sharpened.
"Xiaolan."
Xiaolan looked up.
"It's not the end for you. You hear me?" Clea's tone was firm, urgent. "When he takes you—when Frings makes you his—don't stay. Don't rot in his bed. Find a way out. Run. Survive. Don't become just another one of his playthings."
Xiaolan swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "O-Okay."
A pause.
"Why are you so good to me?" she asked.
Clea's expression softened, just a little. "Because… you remind me of the sister I never had. And maybe—maybe I wish someone had done the same for me."
Xiaolan's chest tightened. She thought of Gela. Her throat closed, and tears began to well.
"I'll try, sister," she whispered. "If I get the chance… I'll escape."
Clea pulled her in gently, holding her close.
The night wrapped around them—beautiful, soft, and unbearably sad.
Over the passing months, Clea and Xiaolan grew closer in ways no one else could understand.
When Xiaolan's moonblood came again, Clea was already waiting with folded cloths, warm water, and a sharp eye that caught every wince. She didn't coddle—just handed Xiaolan the things she'd need and said, "You know what to do."
And yet, when the cramps hit hard or Xiaolan looked too pale to stand, Clea was there. Rubbing her back. Stroking her hair. Whispering, "Breathe, girl. You've bled before, you'll bleed again."
Some sisters began to notice. "Why does she burn some cloths?" one muttered by the laundry pots.
" Does that girl hasn't even flowered yet," another said.
The other girls watched with suspicion, sometimes with envy. Clea didn't smile for anyone the way she did for Xiaolan. And Xiaolan? She followed Clea's every order like gospel.
Their bond wasn't loud—but it was firm. Clea taught her how to lie with her face, how to walk without noise, how to keep her head low when Frings came sniffing around. Xiaolan didn't just survive—she learned.
Her sister by choice.
Months have passed.
"Xiaolan. Xiaolan, wake up!"
A hand gently shook her shoulder in the early morning dark.
"Mmm?" Xiaolan blinked, groggy, rubbing her eyes. "What is it?"
When her vision cleared, she saw Clea kneeling beside her bed, grinning wide like a child with a secret.
"You're going home!" Clea whispered, nearly bursting.
"What?" Xiaolan sat up.
"Yes! The Avalorian army is coming—they're here to bring their people back. You're one of them, Xiaolan. You're finally going home!"
Xiaolan gasped. "Really?"
"Really!" Clea clapped her hands. "See? What did I tell you? The world did shine on you!"
A smile bloomed on Xiaolan's face, sleepy joy swelling in her chest. "Oh Clea…"
"And!" Clea added, blushing now, "They say Rethrus himself is coming with the soldiers."
"Who's Rethrus?" Xiaolan asked.
Clea's eyes lit up. "He's our hero. The chosen one. A child prodigy, blessed by the stars—he's going to be the future of Starglade!"
"Is he tall and handsome?" Xiaolan teased.
"Hah! What kind of shallow standard is that?"
"Gela said she will marry tall and handsome men!"
Clea rolled her eyes, flustered. "It's not about looks! Besides, Rethrus is said to be kind. And probably rich, when the time comes…"
The two burst into laughter, tangled in blankets and joy.
Then Xiaolan's smile dimmed. "But… I'll never see you again, will I?"
Clea paused, then tugged her close. "You will. I swear I'll work hard, climb out of this place. I'll visit you in Avaloria—with my husband. Rethrus, aahh!"
"Ehhh! So you do like him!" Xiaolan giggled.
Clea groaned and hugged her. "Shut up and celebrate. You're going home!"
And beneath the flickering light, the two girls laughed and held each other—hopeful, for once, not afraid.