A dress for the evening had already been set aside for her when Edda returned to her room. There was a small note from her father beside it, reading:
“For dinner. Don’t be late.â€
Edda set the note on top of the dress, and went to sit on the sill of the bay window in her room. There was an excellent view of Limsa Lominsa from this window, and she had spent many bells watching ships come and go since she was a young girl. The city was not very far, and yet it had always been out of reach to her. Edda had only the vaguest memory of it, when she and her family had taken an airship to Gridania to visit her mother’s family. She had only just turned four, and it was the last time she was permitted off of the grounds.
Edda rest her chin in her hands and stared out at the familiar sight of the city. It was calming, and yet it was not enough to shake the jumble of emotions Edda felt from her encounter with Ennis. The stinging behind her eyes had lessened, and the sickening wash of cold she felt in her chest had begun to fade away. She had vowed not to cry once she had returned home, not even in the privacy of her own room. She knew her parents would expect it, and Ennis would delight in it. There was no need to give them the satisfaction.
It was a simple task for Edda to nip her emotions in the bud. The ability to do so had been drilled in to her not moons after the Calamity. “If anyone must see your true face, let it be those who will forget you,†Eamon said to her. It might have been a horrible thing for a parent to say to their child, yet Edda had known that her direct family was exempt from this rule. She had always confided in her family – her brother and mother foremost – but after the Calamity, the gulf that formed between them seemed insurmountable.
Thinking such thoughts sent Edda’s mind to wander to a dark place, and so she imagined the cityscape before her. It had not been so long since she had been there herself, and Edda closed her eyes to visualize the beautiful white stone against the ocean and the bustle and smell of the Bismark.
Behind her, a pile of unopened presents piled up on a sofa; gifts from her mother and father since she returned home, displays of wealth and a cold, faraway love. Perhaps it was in their hope that if they filled her room with what most reminded her of home, she could not bear the thought of ever leaving. All the portraits of her brother had been taken down for storage, and the memory of his smile, that which truly reminded her of home, began to fade on the waves of the Rhotano Sea.
-
Precisely one bell before dinner, M’jhimei arrived in Edda’s room, as silently as she had left in the morning. She helped fit Edda’s dress, lacing up the back with cold, deft hands. It seemed she had gotten much faster since Edda had been home. In what would normally take a full bell, M’jhimei had finished dressing Edda and styled her hair in half the amount of time. Taking her leave without a word, Edda was left to wait in her room, staring in the mirror at her vanity, playing with her now loose hair.
It seemed to take a great deal of time, sitting there in silence, and Edda nearly jumped when there was a knock at her door. It was Noirterel, her chief retainer.
“My Lady,†he bowed shortly to her, staying as close to the wall as possible. “Your father wishes for you to wait down in the parlor with him.â€
Edda stood and approached Noirterel. He stood tall, even for an Elezen, and never seemed to have even one hair out of place. Though he had served Edda since she was ten, she had not seen him much since her return home. It was of little doubt Faucillien had been keeping him, though to what end Edda did not know.
“I am sure he is fine by himself,†Edda said, and looked up at the man. He gave a curt nod. Though Eamon was still in charge, he would not argue. “I have not seen you much recently. Have you been keeping busy?â€
“Not so busy as I had been before we returned.â€
“I suppose.†Edda smoothed her dress, not quite comfortable in its constraint. “I am thankful for your assistance out there. Pray do not think otherwise.â€
“Not at all. It was an honor.†He paused. “You should know the staff here was quite pleased to hear of your return.â€
“Is that so? I imagine Ennis is a bit more bold when I am not here. That must have been quite trying.â€
“Just so,†Noirterel said, and gave Edda a small smile – a rarity on his normally stony face.
“Perhaps when I next leave you should direct the staff to make themselves more scarce in her usual haunts.â€
Noirterel hesitated and the corners of his mouth twitched down. “…Should that day arrive, I will be sure to do so.â€
“’Should?’ You seem assured that it would not. Did my father say something to you?†Edda kept her voice calm, despite the cold sting that began to settle in her chest.
“Only that your place is here, My Lady,†he said. Noirterel was always professional, but in that instance he seemed to look everywhere but her face.
“Of course he would. Of course. Though I would not expect you – most of all, you – to agree.†Edda put a hand to her chest, her heart beating rapidly. It was unnatural for her to be so affected by such words, and the fear itself scared her. She had always known it was only natural to return tools to the shed where they belonged, and yet now the very thought sent shivers down her spine. There was a long silence, and Noirterel kept his gaze towards the floor. “Is no one on my side, Noirterel?â€
“I am on your side, My Lady.†He still did not look at her. “I only wish what is best for you.â€
“And who decides that?â€
Noirterel pursed his lips, and gave Edda a short bow. He opened the door and stepped out of the way in perfect silence. In doing so he had said enough, and Edda said no more, dropping her hand from her chest and brushing past Noirterel to head to the front parlor.
Eamon was, as always, impeccably dressed. He stood when Edda entered, and came to give her the family hug – lightly grasping her upper arms with his hands, keeping his body at arm’s length. “You look lovely,†he said, and released her. Edda looked over his shoulder to see Ennis sitting on the far side of the room, arms folded and legs crossed. Whatever mark Edda might have left on her face was now faded, only to be replaced by a sour expression. Catching Edda’s gaze, Ennis looked over and sneered.
“Yes, lovely,†she chimed in. “If only those gargantuan sacks of fat weren’t constantly trying to escape from whatever dress you choose for her.â€
“Be quiet, Ennis,†Eamon snapped over his shoulder, and that was that. Ennis huffed a sigh and turned to look out the window. “Remember, the Sidneys are only just coming out of mourning,†he continued coolly. Eamon slipped his index finger down the front of Edda’s dress, pinching the fabric with his thumb and hiking it up. “I expect you both to be on your best behavior, and please, for Nymeia’s sake, do not bring up their children.†Eamon continued his nitpicking as he spoke, turning Edda around by her shoulders and raising the back hem of her dress before tightening the binding. “No snide remarks, no jokes, no interrupting-“ He took a step back from Edda to admire his work. “In fact, Ennis, it would be better if you did not speak at all.â€
Ennis said nothing, quietly acquiescing to the order. It was not an uncommon one, and it was in these moments that Edda felt truly sorry for her sister. There was little doubt that Ennis was loved by their parents, but her natural wit and intelligence were nothing more than ornaments for the youngest child, doomed to always be overshadowed.
Edda turned back around to face her father when the sound of the front door opening drifted into the room. “That must be them,†Eamon said quickly. He reached up to cup Edda’s cheek with his hand. “Don’t forget to smile, now.†There was a tightening in his grip then, his fingers digging in behind her ear, the base of his thumb pulling at her cheek, as if to create a smile on his own. Eamon looked at her for a moment longer before pulling away and heading out into the hall.
The Sidneys were the closest neighbors of the Eglantines in terms of wealth and respectability. They owned many old orange farms just north of Red Rooster Stead, and though they were not the largest fields, the unique taste from their older strain of trees was a highly desired commodity on the main land. Their business had been largely unaffected by the Calamity, though they had received some heat for using the disaster as an opportunity to raise their prices.
“Ah, there he is,†Oswald Sidney said, as Eamon made his way to greet him at the door. Oswald was a short, gelatinous man that took great pride in his tremendous black beard, despite having no hair to speak of on his head. He had a red face and a laugh that could be heard three rooms away. Oswald drew Eamon in to a rather violent hug as they greeted each other. It was not something Eamon liked at all.
After being released from the shorter man’s clutches, Eamon turned to the woman beside Oswald, and gave her a deep bow. “Lady Patrice.†Said woman returned the bow, albeit awkwardly. Patrice Sidney stood almost a full head taller than her husband. She was a frail, gaunt looking woman with a constant look of worry in her eyes. Her gaze drifted to Edda and her sister and gave them a small bow before being ushered into the dining room by Eamon.
Edda took her seat at the large table to the right of her father. It was a normal proceeding, and Edda could feel the discontent Ennis exuded as she sat beside her. The Sidneys were here for their father, and so Ennis and Edda sat in prefect silence, pretending to listen to the two men complain about Ul’dah and Ishgard. This continued well into the main course. It was a fragile conversation from the sounds of it, though that was to be expected.
Six moons ago the Sidneys eldest son Osment fell to his death after riding his prize chocobo off a cliff. He was a dull, spoiled child that enjoyed picking the leaves off the heads of young mandragoras with his sausage-like fingers. Edda had never liked him, but he had been the same age as her brother and with their close proximity, Osment had been a frequent visitor during her childhood. The two were hardly friends, but the close relation pleased Eamon, and it was no secret that he considered Osment as a husband for Edda. “He is stupid, and will be easy to control,†he had once said. Needless to say the news of his death came as a sigh of relief to Edda, though she half suspected the shape of Osment’s mature face became displeasing enough for even Eamon to reconsider inviting him into the family.
It was when dessert was brought out – a chocolate and rolanberry tart – that Patrice turned her attention away from the men and addressed Edda.
“I’ve heard that you’ve been spending some time out of the house, Edda. Is that true?â€
Edda looked up at the woman with a small smile on her face. “Yes, it is true. Just a personal foray into the wider world.â€
Patrice chewed a piece of her tart with quick, forceful bites – her eyes wide and unblinking. “Personal!†The woman let out a sharp ‘hmph’ that sounded like the cry of a dodo. “The city is no place for a young woman such as yourself.â€
“I would agree,†Edda replied, still smiling. “Though I usually had a retainer or two accompanying me, so it was not as bad as I expected. It was exciting, really.â€
“Not too dangerous, I hope?â€
“Not at all,†Edda lied, and was surprised at how easy it sounded. She could feel her father’s eyes on her for a moment before he turned back to Oswald, and the tart tasted like ash on her tongue.
“The last time I was in the city was summers ago,†Patrice commented, as if someone had asked. Edda found it hard to imagine her wandering the streets, and perhaps that perpetual look of fear in her countenance came from such a trip. “It was all very – very busy. And loud. I don’t know how you could stand it.†She laughed nervously.
“I admit it took some getting used to.â€
That was not quite the answer Patrice may have wanted, and she ducked her chin in towards her throat. She eyed Edda for a long moment, her eyebrows raised, the loose skin of her jowls sinking into her throat. “Would you go back, then?â€
It was a pointed question and Edda found she could not answer it so readily. There was a sinking feeling in her chest and she suddenly felt far away, as if her spirit was drifting out of the room, out of the manor. It was in that moment that Edda remembered things she had already began to forget – the smell of the ocean, the stinging taste of anger, the sharp pain of steel. Her body felt heavy and the words of her father sounded muddled and distant. There were faces she missed, she remembered, those that she would hold dear if she could, and those that she might never see again if she could help it. It was a familiar sadness, but with something now missing, it was more severe than it had been for so many long cycles.
The sound of Patrice’s fork dropping onto her plate was enough to snap Edda back to attention. The older woman still wore a skeptical expression, and Edda could only wonder as to what she looked like in the woman’s eyes.
“I would, yes,†Edda answered slowly. She forced a smile and looking squarely into Patrice’s eyes. “For however long.â€
Patrice quirked her eyebrows and leaned back in her chair, Noirterel reaching in to clear her plate. “I see,†she said shortly, her lips puckering closed before she gave Edda a wide, close-lipped smile. “I am sure your father is glad to have you back. No doubt you would not cause him to miss you so terribly again.â€
“No, I would not,†Edda said quietly. “There is no doubt.â€
That was the end of the conversation. Edda sunk back into her chair and left her rolanberry tart unfinished. It was unusual for her, and she could feel Noirterel’s gaze boring into the back of her skull as he cleared her plate. There was a silence the enveloped the table then, and Edda knew her careless comment would bring consequences. The fear of that felt as far away as she had been moments ago, and Edda drifted through the rest of the evening.
-
The icy shroud that had enveloped the manor the day Edda’s brother died returned soon after the Sidneys left. Guests had come much more frequently before then, and it was little wonder why. The Eglantine manor was a large, sprawling structure, and company had helped fill the house with light and laughter. The guest wing was now largely abandoned – the rooms and halls only kept nice and neat for the sake of appearance. Many of the rooms had not been used in many cycles.
After dinner Edda took to wandering the halls (one sharp look from her father was enough to send her on her way), and it was in the guest’s quarters she noticed light coming from the crack underneath one of the doors. She had heard no word from her father on anyone staying. It was a strange sight, and Edda hesitated outside of the room. Should she knock? Though there was light, there was no sound coming from the other side. Nothing good comes of curiosity, she reminded herself, and made her way back to her room.
Upon entering her room, Edda found Ennis sitting in front of her vanity.
“This is not your room, Ennis,†Edda reminded her. Their eyes met in the mirror of her vanity, and Ennis smiled slowly.
“Fortunately,†Ennis said. “What a clutter you have in here. I took the liberty of opening your presents for you.†Edda looked over towards her sofa to see Ennis had been telling the truth. Wrapping paper and box lids were strewn about, the contents of each gift piled haphazardly on the arm of the sofa. “Mostly clothes,†Ennis continued. “When will father learn? You barely wear half of what you already own.â€
“What are you doing here.†It was not a question, and Edda could not be bothered to force a smile.
“Only repaying your kindness from earlier, dear sister.†Ennis stood from the vanity, and turned to face Edda fully. “How righteous of you, to set me straight so dramatically. You really are taking your new position quite seriously! I’m sure if father had been there he would have given you a medal.â€
Her words dripped with poison, and Ennis’ earlier accusation came to the forefront of Edda’s mind. “And if our dear Esmond had seen it, I am sure he would have done the same,†Edda replied evenly, her face expressionless as she looked on at her sister. It hurt even now to say his name so casually – even more so in such a cruel manner.
“Don’t say his name,†Ennis spat out quickly. “You, of all people. It is no wonder that mother and father, that anyone holds no love for you. Were all that cruelty to be bled out of you.â€
It was easy enough to not react to Ennis’ words, but there was nothing to assuage the sting carried by them. The thin layer of ice that composed Edda’s heart felt more brittle than it had in a long time. There was palpable ire in Ennis’ eyes, and though it was not the first time she had spoken as such, Edda could not repel her anger even now. Edda cast her gaze downward as she spoke, her voice quiet. “Do not say that, Ennis.â€
“I hate you,†Ennis replied. The words came too easily.
“I know.†Edda looked back at her sister across the room, her small hands clenched into fists at her sides.
“And do you hate me?â€
A favorite question of Ennis. The answer remained unchanged. “No. I do not hate anyone.â€
“Ever the saint. Such a carefully constructed little world you live in – how I would love to watch it crumble all around you. Will you continue to lie to yourself, even as you watch it happen?â€
Ennis held up one of her hands and uncurled her fist. In her palm was a simple bracelet of tiny pearls. Edda recognized it instantly, despite having countless others like it. Her brother had made it for her before he left, mere suns before fire rained down from the sky and the color of the outside world felt farther away than it ever had. She remembered the smile on his face and the timbre of his voice as he held her hands in his and said goodbye. How was it that Ennis had it now, an item so precious she kept it locked away? That she would steal away the key to seek out Edda’s treasures on her own. When was it that the hate her sister carried had grown so monstrous?
Edda could feel the color in her face drain, and the emotion she so carefully kept tucked away bloomed on her face in an instant. “What are you doing?†Her voice shook as she spoke, and perhaps it was exactly this kind of fear, this vulnerability, that Ennis so desperately wanted.
Ennis took the bracelet and held it up with two hands, holding it firmly, for her sister to see. Edda reached out a hand towards her, but she was too far, and it was not enough. “Ennis, don’t-“
The string holding the pearls together snapped easily enough. Ennis tore with enough force that half the pearls flew across the room in every direction, ricocheting off the walls and furniture. Ennis wrung out the band after, dropping the remaining pearls to the floor, and finally discarded the broken band at her feet.
“Do you hate me?†Ennis repeated. She sneered, almost triumphant, before brushing past Edda and out of the room.
It took Edda minutes of standing still before she fell to her knees in front of the small collection of pearls that had not been scattered. With shaky hands she began to gather them off the floor, one by one. Her room was now quite dark, and there was a futility in her actions that even she recognized. Edda could not recall how many pearls were on the bracelet, but she began counting the ones she held in her palm. She would find them all. She could not rest before she did. She must.
Edda had gathered her 15th pearl when the brunt of Ennis’ rage hit her. It was a cold, hollow feeling, and Edda grabbed at her chest, the pearls she had managed to collect falling once more to the floor. There was little she could do to prevent such words from nestling into her heart as the truth. The evidence was all around her – the indifference in her gifts, the avoidance of her retainers, the anger of her sister, and even her own fading memories, no matter how dear they were to her. How wretched she was, how cold she felt. What love she had hoped to give, to receive, to bask in – it seemed only impossible now. The bitter defeat from her father, and the separation of those she might one day call friends formed around her like ice. No matter how much she longed for warmth, the coldness of her home settled around her, and though no tears came, she wept openly into her hands.
-
Several suns passed before Edda left her room. Each pearl had been found and placed back in her drawer, the key discarded. Though she had managed to return each and every one, a chill settled in her heart that night. It was a dull, piercing pain, and not even the warmth of the sun in the garden could heal it.
Edda felt she would grow used to it, unnatural as it was. But her heart still yearned for the larger world, and when she was approached by the guest behind the door as she sat in the garden, she did not need to think twice. She was gone three suns later, without a word.
“For dinner. Don’t be late.â€
Edda set the note on top of the dress, and went to sit on the sill of the bay window in her room. There was an excellent view of Limsa Lominsa from this window, and she had spent many bells watching ships come and go since she was a young girl. The city was not very far, and yet it had always been out of reach to her. Edda had only the vaguest memory of it, when she and her family had taken an airship to Gridania to visit her mother’s family. She had only just turned four, and it was the last time she was permitted off of the grounds.
Edda rest her chin in her hands and stared out at the familiar sight of the city. It was calming, and yet it was not enough to shake the jumble of emotions Edda felt from her encounter with Ennis. The stinging behind her eyes had lessened, and the sickening wash of cold she felt in her chest had begun to fade away. She had vowed not to cry once she had returned home, not even in the privacy of her own room. She knew her parents would expect it, and Ennis would delight in it. There was no need to give them the satisfaction.
It was a simple task for Edda to nip her emotions in the bud. The ability to do so had been drilled in to her not moons after the Calamity. “If anyone must see your true face, let it be those who will forget you,†Eamon said to her. It might have been a horrible thing for a parent to say to their child, yet Edda had known that her direct family was exempt from this rule. She had always confided in her family – her brother and mother foremost – but after the Calamity, the gulf that formed between them seemed insurmountable.
Thinking such thoughts sent Edda’s mind to wander to a dark place, and so she imagined the cityscape before her. It had not been so long since she had been there herself, and Edda closed her eyes to visualize the beautiful white stone against the ocean and the bustle and smell of the Bismark.
Behind her, a pile of unopened presents piled up on a sofa; gifts from her mother and father since she returned home, displays of wealth and a cold, faraway love. Perhaps it was in their hope that if they filled her room with what most reminded her of home, she could not bear the thought of ever leaving. All the portraits of her brother had been taken down for storage, and the memory of his smile, that which truly reminded her of home, began to fade on the waves of the Rhotano Sea.
-
Precisely one bell before dinner, M’jhimei arrived in Edda’s room, as silently as she had left in the morning. She helped fit Edda’s dress, lacing up the back with cold, deft hands. It seemed she had gotten much faster since Edda had been home. In what would normally take a full bell, M’jhimei had finished dressing Edda and styled her hair in half the amount of time. Taking her leave without a word, Edda was left to wait in her room, staring in the mirror at her vanity, playing with her now loose hair.
It seemed to take a great deal of time, sitting there in silence, and Edda nearly jumped when there was a knock at her door. It was Noirterel, her chief retainer.
“My Lady,†he bowed shortly to her, staying as close to the wall as possible. “Your father wishes for you to wait down in the parlor with him.â€
Edda stood and approached Noirterel. He stood tall, even for an Elezen, and never seemed to have even one hair out of place. Though he had served Edda since she was ten, she had not seen him much since her return home. It was of little doubt Faucillien had been keeping him, though to what end Edda did not know.
“I am sure he is fine by himself,†Edda said, and looked up at the man. He gave a curt nod. Though Eamon was still in charge, he would not argue. “I have not seen you much recently. Have you been keeping busy?â€
“Not so busy as I had been before we returned.â€
“I suppose.†Edda smoothed her dress, not quite comfortable in its constraint. “I am thankful for your assistance out there. Pray do not think otherwise.â€
“Not at all. It was an honor.†He paused. “You should know the staff here was quite pleased to hear of your return.â€
“Is that so? I imagine Ennis is a bit more bold when I am not here. That must have been quite trying.â€
“Just so,†Noirterel said, and gave Edda a small smile – a rarity on his normally stony face.
“Perhaps when I next leave you should direct the staff to make themselves more scarce in her usual haunts.â€
Noirterel hesitated and the corners of his mouth twitched down. “…Should that day arrive, I will be sure to do so.â€
“’Should?’ You seem assured that it would not. Did my father say something to you?†Edda kept her voice calm, despite the cold sting that began to settle in her chest.
“Only that your place is here, My Lady,†he said. Noirterel was always professional, but in that instance he seemed to look everywhere but her face.
“Of course he would. Of course. Though I would not expect you – most of all, you – to agree.†Edda put a hand to her chest, her heart beating rapidly. It was unnatural for her to be so affected by such words, and the fear itself scared her. She had always known it was only natural to return tools to the shed where they belonged, and yet now the very thought sent shivers down her spine. There was a long silence, and Noirterel kept his gaze towards the floor. “Is no one on my side, Noirterel?â€
“I am on your side, My Lady.†He still did not look at her. “I only wish what is best for you.â€
“And who decides that?â€
Noirterel pursed his lips, and gave Edda a short bow. He opened the door and stepped out of the way in perfect silence. In doing so he had said enough, and Edda said no more, dropping her hand from her chest and brushing past Noirterel to head to the front parlor.
Eamon was, as always, impeccably dressed. He stood when Edda entered, and came to give her the family hug – lightly grasping her upper arms with his hands, keeping his body at arm’s length. “You look lovely,†he said, and released her. Edda looked over his shoulder to see Ennis sitting on the far side of the room, arms folded and legs crossed. Whatever mark Edda might have left on her face was now faded, only to be replaced by a sour expression. Catching Edda’s gaze, Ennis looked over and sneered.
“Yes, lovely,†she chimed in. “If only those gargantuan sacks of fat weren’t constantly trying to escape from whatever dress you choose for her.â€
“Be quiet, Ennis,†Eamon snapped over his shoulder, and that was that. Ennis huffed a sigh and turned to look out the window. “Remember, the Sidneys are only just coming out of mourning,†he continued coolly. Eamon slipped his index finger down the front of Edda’s dress, pinching the fabric with his thumb and hiking it up. “I expect you both to be on your best behavior, and please, for Nymeia’s sake, do not bring up their children.†Eamon continued his nitpicking as he spoke, turning Edda around by her shoulders and raising the back hem of her dress before tightening the binding. “No snide remarks, no jokes, no interrupting-“ He took a step back from Edda to admire his work. “In fact, Ennis, it would be better if you did not speak at all.â€
Ennis said nothing, quietly acquiescing to the order. It was not an uncommon one, and it was in these moments that Edda felt truly sorry for her sister. There was little doubt that Ennis was loved by their parents, but her natural wit and intelligence were nothing more than ornaments for the youngest child, doomed to always be overshadowed.
Edda turned back around to face her father when the sound of the front door opening drifted into the room. “That must be them,†Eamon said quickly. He reached up to cup Edda’s cheek with his hand. “Don’t forget to smile, now.†There was a tightening in his grip then, his fingers digging in behind her ear, the base of his thumb pulling at her cheek, as if to create a smile on his own. Eamon looked at her for a moment longer before pulling away and heading out into the hall.
The Sidneys were the closest neighbors of the Eglantines in terms of wealth and respectability. They owned many old orange farms just north of Red Rooster Stead, and though they were not the largest fields, the unique taste from their older strain of trees was a highly desired commodity on the main land. Their business had been largely unaffected by the Calamity, though they had received some heat for using the disaster as an opportunity to raise their prices.
“Ah, there he is,†Oswald Sidney said, as Eamon made his way to greet him at the door. Oswald was a short, gelatinous man that took great pride in his tremendous black beard, despite having no hair to speak of on his head. He had a red face and a laugh that could be heard three rooms away. Oswald drew Eamon in to a rather violent hug as they greeted each other. It was not something Eamon liked at all.
After being released from the shorter man’s clutches, Eamon turned to the woman beside Oswald, and gave her a deep bow. “Lady Patrice.†Said woman returned the bow, albeit awkwardly. Patrice Sidney stood almost a full head taller than her husband. She was a frail, gaunt looking woman with a constant look of worry in her eyes. Her gaze drifted to Edda and her sister and gave them a small bow before being ushered into the dining room by Eamon.
Edda took her seat at the large table to the right of her father. It was a normal proceeding, and Edda could feel the discontent Ennis exuded as she sat beside her. The Sidneys were here for their father, and so Ennis and Edda sat in prefect silence, pretending to listen to the two men complain about Ul’dah and Ishgard. This continued well into the main course. It was a fragile conversation from the sounds of it, though that was to be expected.
Six moons ago the Sidneys eldest son Osment fell to his death after riding his prize chocobo off a cliff. He was a dull, spoiled child that enjoyed picking the leaves off the heads of young mandragoras with his sausage-like fingers. Edda had never liked him, but he had been the same age as her brother and with their close proximity, Osment had been a frequent visitor during her childhood. The two were hardly friends, but the close relation pleased Eamon, and it was no secret that he considered Osment as a husband for Edda. “He is stupid, and will be easy to control,†he had once said. Needless to say the news of his death came as a sigh of relief to Edda, though she half suspected the shape of Osment’s mature face became displeasing enough for even Eamon to reconsider inviting him into the family.
It was when dessert was brought out – a chocolate and rolanberry tart – that Patrice turned her attention away from the men and addressed Edda.
“I’ve heard that you’ve been spending some time out of the house, Edda. Is that true?â€
Edda looked up at the woman with a small smile on her face. “Yes, it is true. Just a personal foray into the wider world.â€
Patrice chewed a piece of her tart with quick, forceful bites – her eyes wide and unblinking. “Personal!†The woman let out a sharp ‘hmph’ that sounded like the cry of a dodo. “The city is no place for a young woman such as yourself.â€
“I would agree,†Edda replied, still smiling. “Though I usually had a retainer or two accompanying me, so it was not as bad as I expected. It was exciting, really.â€
“Not too dangerous, I hope?â€
“Not at all,†Edda lied, and was surprised at how easy it sounded. She could feel her father’s eyes on her for a moment before he turned back to Oswald, and the tart tasted like ash on her tongue.
“The last time I was in the city was summers ago,†Patrice commented, as if someone had asked. Edda found it hard to imagine her wandering the streets, and perhaps that perpetual look of fear in her countenance came from such a trip. “It was all very – very busy. And loud. I don’t know how you could stand it.†She laughed nervously.
“I admit it took some getting used to.â€
That was not quite the answer Patrice may have wanted, and she ducked her chin in towards her throat. She eyed Edda for a long moment, her eyebrows raised, the loose skin of her jowls sinking into her throat. “Would you go back, then?â€
It was a pointed question and Edda found she could not answer it so readily. There was a sinking feeling in her chest and she suddenly felt far away, as if her spirit was drifting out of the room, out of the manor. It was in that moment that Edda remembered things she had already began to forget – the smell of the ocean, the stinging taste of anger, the sharp pain of steel. Her body felt heavy and the words of her father sounded muddled and distant. There were faces she missed, she remembered, those that she would hold dear if she could, and those that she might never see again if she could help it. It was a familiar sadness, but with something now missing, it was more severe than it had been for so many long cycles.
The sound of Patrice’s fork dropping onto her plate was enough to snap Edda back to attention. The older woman still wore a skeptical expression, and Edda could only wonder as to what she looked like in the woman’s eyes.
“I would, yes,†Edda answered slowly. She forced a smile and looking squarely into Patrice’s eyes. “For however long.â€
Patrice quirked her eyebrows and leaned back in her chair, Noirterel reaching in to clear her plate. “I see,†she said shortly, her lips puckering closed before she gave Edda a wide, close-lipped smile. “I am sure your father is glad to have you back. No doubt you would not cause him to miss you so terribly again.â€
“No, I would not,†Edda said quietly. “There is no doubt.â€
That was the end of the conversation. Edda sunk back into her chair and left her rolanberry tart unfinished. It was unusual for her, and she could feel Noirterel’s gaze boring into the back of her skull as he cleared her plate. There was a silence the enveloped the table then, and Edda knew her careless comment would bring consequences. The fear of that felt as far away as she had been moments ago, and Edda drifted through the rest of the evening.
-
The icy shroud that had enveloped the manor the day Edda’s brother died returned soon after the Sidneys left. Guests had come much more frequently before then, and it was little wonder why. The Eglantine manor was a large, sprawling structure, and company had helped fill the house with light and laughter. The guest wing was now largely abandoned – the rooms and halls only kept nice and neat for the sake of appearance. Many of the rooms had not been used in many cycles.
After dinner Edda took to wandering the halls (one sharp look from her father was enough to send her on her way), and it was in the guest’s quarters she noticed light coming from the crack underneath one of the doors. She had heard no word from her father on anyone staying. It was a strange sight, and Edda hesitated outside of the room. Should she knock? Though there was light, there was no sound coming from the other side. Nothing good comes of curiosity, she reminded herself, and made her way back to her room.
Upon entering her room, Edda found Ennis sitting in front of her vanity.
“This is not your room, Ennis,†Edda reminded her. Their eyes met in the mirror of her vanity, and Ennis smiled slowly.
“Fortunately,†Ennis said. “What a clutter you have in here. I took the liberty of opening your presents for you.†Edda looked over towards her sofa to see Ennis had been telling the truth. Wrapping paper and box lids were strewn about, the contents of each gift piled haphazardly on the arm of the sofa. “Mostly clothes,†Ennis continued. “When will father learn? You barely wear half of what you already own.â€
“What are you doing here.†It was not a question, and Edda could not be bothered to force a smile.
“Only repaying your kindness from earlier, dear sister.†Ennis stood from the vanity, and turned to face Edda fully. “How righteous of you, to set me straight so dramatically. You really are taking your new position quite seriously! I’m sure if father had been there he would have given you a medal.â€
Her words dripped with poison, and Ennis’ earlier accusation came to the forefront of Edda’s mind. “And if our dear Esmond had seen it, I am sure he would have done the same,†Edda replied evenly, her face expressionless as she looked on at her sister. It hurt even now to say his name so casually – even more so in such a cruel manner.
“Don’t say his name,†Ennis spat out quickly. “You, of all people. It is no wonder that mother and father, that anyone holds no love for you. Were all that cruelty to be bled out of you.â€
It was easy enough to not react to Ennis’ words, but there was nothing to assuage the sting carried by them. The thin layer of ice that composed Edda’s heart felt more brittle than it had in a long time. There was palpable ire in Ennis’ eyes, and though it was not the first time she had spoken as such, Edda could not repel her anger even now. Edda cast her gaze downward as she spoke, her voice quiet. “Do not say that, Ennis.â€
“I hate you,†Ennis replied. The words came too easily.
“I know.†Edda looked back at her sister across the room, her small hands clenched into fists at her sides.
“And do you hate me?â€
A favorite question of Ennis. The answer remained unchanged. “No. I do not hate anyone.â€
“Ever the saint. Such a carefully constructed little world you live in – how I would love to watch it crumble all around you. Will you continue to lie to yourself, even as you watch it happen?â€
Ennis held up one of her hands and uncurled her fist. In her palm was a simple bracelet of tiny pearls. Edda recognized it instantly, despite having countless others like it. Her brother had made it for her before he left, mere suns before fire rained down from the sky and the color of the outside world felt farther away than it ever had. She remembered the smile on his face and the timbre of his voice as he held her hands in his and said goodbye. How was it that Ennis had it now, an item so precious she kept it locked away? That she would steal away the key to seek out Edda’s treasures on her own. When was it that the hate her sister carried had grown so monstrous?
Edda could feel the color in her face drain, and the emotion she so carefully kept tucked away bloomed on her face in an instant. “What are you doing?†Her voice shook as she spoke, and perhaps it was exactly this kind of fear, this vulnerability, that Ennis so desperately wanted.
Ennis took the bracelet and held it up with two hands, holding it firmly, for her sister to see. Edda reached out a hand towards her, but she was too far, and it was not enough. “Ennis, don’t-“
The string holding the pearls together snapped easily enough. Ennis tore with enough force that half the pearls flew across the room in every direction, ricocheting off the walls and furniture. Ennis wrung out the band after, dropping the remaining pearls to the floor, and finally discarded the broken band at her feet.
“Do you hate me?†Ennis repeated. She sneered, almost triumphant, before brushing past Edda and out of the room.
It took Edda minutes of standing still before she fell to her knees in front of the small collection of pearls that had not been scattered. With shaky hands she began to gather them off the floor, one by one. Her room was now quite dark, and there was a futility in her actions that even she recognized. Edda could not recall how many pearls were on the bracelet, but she began counting the ones she held in her palm. She would find them all. She could not rest before she did. She must.
Edda had gathered her 15th pearl when the brunt of Ennis’ rage hit her. It was a cold, hollow feeling, and Edda grabbed at her chest, the pearls she had managed to collect falling once more to the floor. There was little she could do to prevent such words from nestling into her heart as the truth. The evidence was all around her – the indifference in her gifts, the avoidance of her retainers, the anger of her sister, and even her own fading memories, no matter how dear they were to her. How wretched she was, how cold she felt. What love she had hoped to give, to receive, to bask in – it seemed only impossible now. The bitter defeat from her father, and the separation of those she might one day call friends formed around her like ice. No matter how much she longed for warmth, the coldness of her home settled around her, and though no tears came, she wept openly into her hands.
-
Several suns passed before Edda left her room. Each pearl had been found and placed back in her drawer, the key discarded. Though she had managed to return each and every one, a chill settled in her heart that night. It was a dull, piercing pain, and not even the warmth of the sun in the garden could heal it.
Edda felt she would grow used to it, unnatural as it was. But her heart still yearned for the larger world, and when she was approached by the guest behind the door as she sat in the garden, she did not need to think twice. She was gone three suns later, without a word.
