Esme stared at the back of Alora's head, at the glossy golden hair.

  Her hands were csped tightly behind her back whilst her lips struggled to remain still; they quivered and bit upon each other as she resisted the urge to open her mouth;

  To ask:

  'Why?'

  But she didn't.

  She promised Alora.

  So, she'd keep her promise.

  "Pretty, right?" Stepping beside Alora, Esme pced her hands on the windowsill and stared at the view.

  But, standing there, she noticed a little something.

  'Pfft ~! She's too short to look properly!'

  The adorable sight of Alora standing on her tippy-toes, 'Cute!'

  "Mhm." Alora couldn't deny it;

  Certainly, this view:

  "Pretty."

  It was undoubtedly pretty.

  Yet as she said it, her eyes had been glued on Esme's face.

  "Right?!"

  Esme grabbed Alora's petite hands and pulled her down the corridor. While maintaining the eloquence of a noble dy with her gait, the childish smile wouldn't exit her lips.

  They walked, side-by-side, down the vish corridors, beneath the refreshing rays of light and vibrant scents of perfume and cleaning materials from the hard-working maids.

  Esme and Alora arrived at the mansion's central staircase with the gossipy eyes of maids watching their every movement.

  Walking down, Esme said:

  "Don't mind them, this is their first time meeting you."

  'And if not for mother's guidance, I don't think I'd have ever known you were living right beside me all along.'

  Some odd questions still lingered, such as:

  'How has no one seen you before?'

  'How did I not know you lived right there, in that room?'

  But, as always, there wasn't enough information, nor could she ask.

  Sticking along with Esme, Alora, with her mind still fleeting with myriad thoughts, asked:

  "Where are you taking me...?"

  "Hmm?"

  Esme stopped at the bottom of the staircase, just 1 step below Alora; at this height, she didn't have to look down at her; they were even in height.

  "Breakfast, of course!"

  Turning back, Esme pulled Alora to the double doors sitting at the front of the staircase. This wasn't the main entrance of the building, merely a set of side doors leading to the mansion's front gardens, pathways, and other buildings: servant quarters, training grounds, bathhouses and more.

  Yet even the side doors were this vast, this vish.

  Nodding at the guards who stood beside the doors, Esme waited for them to open up.

  It usually took a minute due to the weight of the doors.

  And, in that minute;

  Unknownst to Esme's yet-to-be-trained eyes...

  Eyes were cshing.

  White, crystal eyes; blue, oceanic eyes;

  Alora and the guards.

  One was hidden beneath a silvery white mask, the other two behind the thick steel of armour.

  Staring down at the one standing beside their Lady, past the slits of their visors, they could smell it; the scent of something worse than them.

  Creak...

  The doors opened with eyes cshing.

  Csping Alora's gloved hand, Esme strolled through the doors and into the outside world. Beside her, Alora's gaze remained on the men and theirs on her.

  It wasn't that they sensed danger in her.

  It's more so that they sensed...

  A something cking humanity;

  Something almost like those creatures.

  "How is it?"

  Thud!

  The doors shut behind them.

  Esme swivelled around, and with her hands holding Alora's, she shook them up and down like a swing. "Pretty?"

  Again:

  "Pretty." I agreed.

  Very pretty.

  You're too pretty.

  ...Unlike me.

  Also:

  "L, let go..." I whispered with a flushed voice; holding hands like this is bad for my heart.

  I might get heart disease early at this rate.

  "O- Sorry." Embarrassed, Esme let go of my hands with a step back and scratched her head awkwardly; even with that face, you look adorable.

  Changing the subject, Esme pointed at a paved pathway leading into the depths of the fresh gardens; new gardens, not the gardens I know of.

  "They're waiting for us down there. Let's go."

  Walking ahead of me with a tinge of happiness tinting the colour of her steps, we strolled through the peaceful, animal-filled gardens. Hopping little critters, birds, the occasional squirrel-esque creature and more:

  It was filled to the brim with life.

  Not to mention the gardeners; dozens of them were actively maintaining and tending to the surroundings.

  This is nothing like the other garden.

  That one is empty and nigh-lifeless.

  As we traversed the garden, we eventually approached a source of faint, soothing voices whispering. The noises came from a rge, golden-leaf-encrusted, dark wooden gazebo. A table stuffed with food ran down the centre of the gazebo, with around 8 chairs surrounding it.

  6 were taken by other children while the other 2 were empty.

  For us?

  Esme hopped over to me and whispered into my ear before we were close enough to be seen, "Those are my friends." Then, she linked her arm with mine and pulled me into their line of sight.

  ...The voices stopped.

  And 12 eyes slithered unto me.

  However, their eyes were clear. Void of the stickiness of trickery and plots; that's even more suspicious.

  It's obvious.

  Mother would never allow me to roam freely without some sort of watch pced on me. I, the Perfect Cursed Doll, cannot be tainted.

  Thus, everything is many times more suspicious in my eyes.

  Are there ears in the brushery?

  Are my clothes tainted by some observational spell?

  And are these kids, sister's friends, mother's puppets?

  Nothing of the sort could shock me anymore.

  Once you learn to expect the unexpected when dealing with Mother, you come to accept the fact that you are never acting upon your whims, but hers.

  Even now.

  As Esme leads me.

  As she takes me to breakfast.

  To meet her friends.

  What are you plotting, mother?

  These thoughts muddle and trudge through the swamp of my brain.

  While I pondered over these matters, Esme took a step back to push me into the limelight.

  "Greetings, everyone. Today, we have a special guest."

  Silent eyes observed.

  3 boys and 3 girls.

  The 3 boys each had a different hair colour, and so did the 3 girls.

  The three boys had, respectively:

  Green, bck, and silver.

  The girls:

  Bck, brown, and one with an intriguing pale beige colour.

  ""Greetings, Lady Esme.""

  Simultaneously, they returned her greeting and awaited Esme's next sentence.

  "This is Alora."

  Esme patted my shoulder while the curious eyes remained on me.

  "My twin sister."

  The curiosity exploded with shock. "S, sister!?!" One of the girls, the bck-haired one, promptly uttered with shock underlying her tone. The silver-haired boy sitting beside her reached out and spped her mouth shut with his hand.

  Not that his expression was any better, but he knew not to shout abruptly like that when Esme was still speaking.

  "No worries, Hildekar. She didn't mean anything by it."

  "Yes, Lady Esme."

  The silver-haired boy, Hildekar, released his hand and nodded at my sister.

  "As I was saying." Esme patted my shoulder. "Alora isn't well-suited for these types of occasions; her specialities lie elsewhere, so do not mind it if any mishaps occur."

  I almost grumbled outwardly; just so you know, I spent 4 years learning etiquette.

  ""Yes, Lady Esme.""

  Brightly smiling, Esme tugged my sleeve and pulled me past the 6 kids and to the two empty seats; we were separated by a small distance from the other 6, but for good reason.

  This is a css-based society.

  Which...

  I held back the urge to rub my face.

  Does not line up with the history books. A world ridden in chaos and darkness; a Sunless world;

  A world with no Aurora.

  I still don't get what's going on.

  Taking my seat, I promptly gnced around the table, at the faces of Esme's so-called friends; who might end up the most suspicious?

  Is it only a few or all of them?

  [Alora.]

  How far would mother go?

  [Alora?]

  She wouldn't dare touch Esme, would she?

  [Alora!]

  We had a deal.

  [...Alora?]

  An agreement.

  This creature in exchange for dear Esme, she wouldn't renege on it-

  "Alora?"

  Squishy fingers sank into my shoulder, oozing with loving warmth.

  "O, oh..." Squeezing that odd noise out, I betedly realised that I had been essentially ignoring everything while roaming my thoughts for the past few minutes.

  In fact, with a second look at the table, I noticed that some of the food had already gone missing; ptes were starting to empty, and conversations seemed to abound between Esme's friends.

  "Have you lost your appetite?"

  Esme asked, and I slowly shook my head. "...I was lost in thought."

  Accepting my response, Esme picked up her knife and fork once more and returned to consuming her meal in silence.

  It's an odd rule, the one with the highest hierarchy must be the st one to finish their food, and, during that period, those of lower stature may not converse with those of higher stature.

  Even more odd is that this rule does not apply to servants; you can freely converse with them. But thinking of it from a different angle reveals a more sinister tone.

  Servants aren't human; therefore, why should I mind the social status of an object?

  Anyways, with that aside, this form of etiquette is simply a decration of wealth and power: look at how much time I can waste and still get more done than you.

  That's essentially how this etiquette functions.

  And, Esme and I, as the highest ranks on this table, should be the st to finish our food...

  Wait.

  Abruptly, I shot a look between my pte and Esme's.

  Then, I noticed the problem.

  I hadn't eaten yet.

  Meaning Esme, as someone with equal social status to me, can't finish eating till I finish eating.

  Resisting the urge to sp myself for the messup, I hurriedly reached for the tongs to pluck out some small bite-sized pieces of food-

  "No need, Lady Alora. Ask, and I shall obey."

  -before a certain maid plucked them off the pte with elegant movement.

  Tucking the stray strand of hair slipping off her head over her ears, with vibrant brown hair and lively hazel eyes, a mere teenager.

  "Y, you are...?"

  My tongue awkwardly slipped over my words.

  And she:

  "Lily, my Lady. A humble maid." With a welcoming smile, she introduced herself.