New Friend!
Today is Trinda.
After breakfast and the last of their morning routines, Randia and Viena sat on their respective beds, still tending to the small things left after their bath. It was the first time Viena had ever used a private bath; her mood now was brighter than any morning sky.
“Papa, are we going to the cathedral today?” she asked, her voice light and hopeful.
“No, not today,” Randia replied, rolling the sleeves of his tunic. “There are leaks in the walls and the roof, and some railings to mend. A dozen other things need fixing, too.”
“Oh! Do you need help?”
Her eyes sparkled too quickly for his liking.
"Working with you makes it harder than doing it alone," he said flatly.
“That’s so rude!” Viena smacked his thigh with the back of her hand.
“Why don’t you go play with Lisabelle instead?”
“Eeh? Why? You know she doesn’t even like having me around.”
Randia reached for his bag and pulled out a small purse. He had bought it with Viena in mind. If there was a time to give it to her, it was now.
"I personally don't look at it that way." he said, weighing the purse in his hand. "Even if she does, then isn't it a good opportunity for you to learn how to make up and befriend someone closer to your age properly? Chances like this are not easy to come by."
"But . . . I don't know if I can do that."
"What? Are you getting nervous? Where is the high-spirited little monkey that keeps nagging me to teach her everything she touched?"
"M-MONKEY?! Why are you saying the same thing as her?!"
Viena climbs into Randia's hand and bites the side of his palm. Then, Randia flicks her forehead. She yelped and lost her grip, hanging upside down from his arm by the crooks of her knees, her gown slipping and leaving her undergarments embarrassingly on display as she cupped her flicked forehead.
"Sigh, can you be normal for once?"
“T-That hurts!” Viena whined as she climbed upright again, perching stubbornly on his shoulder.
Randia steadied her with one arm and pressed the purse into her hands.
“Anyway. Consider it a challenge,” he said quietly. “This is your allowance, for always helping me with my work. Win her over and I might add more inside.”
Her mouth parted, breath catching. “Whoa! Really?! You won’t take it back, right? That’s a promise!”
Randia gave Viena half of what he intended to give her and kept the rest with him until she made up with Lisabelle. The little girl is now over the moon. Viena practically lit up. She leapt down from his lap, dancing on her toes, the small purse clutched proudly in both fists. Humming under her breath, she dashed outside, already burning with plans for her mission.
Looking at the overjoyed little girl, Randia both become relaxed and worried. He doesn't dislike seeing her bright face, but he is rather concerned about how she will handle herself around such tricky stuff as twisted with curse and blessing as money.
Outside, Viena found Lisabelle seated on the porch, her knitting resting loose in her fingers. Eleanor sat beside her, her voice gentle as she asked where Lisabelle had wandered last night. But Lisabelle could scarcely recall it. She remembered a scuffle, vaguely — fists, shouting, shadows — but the faces of her opponents were gone as if dreamt and forgotten by dawn.
“What are you two talking about?” Viena asked, bouncing closer.
“Huh? Why do you care, midget?” Lisabelle shot back, her tone sharp and cranky.
“Because I want to know! Papa won’t tell me about it.”
“What’s it got to do with your dad?”
“Don’t be too hard on her, Lisabelle,” Eleanor interjected gently, her voice smoothing the edges of their quarrel. “He’s the one who brought you home, remember?”
Just then, Randia stepped out of the house, adjusting the strap of his bag, ready to set off for wooden planks. His gaze met Lisabelle’s; her brow arched with cautious curiosity.
“…Is there something I can help you with?” he asked.
“Hm.” Lisabelle crossed her arms. “Is it true you’re the one who carried me home last night?”
“Yes. That’s true.” His voice remained flat as slate. “Your body is slightly too heavy for your age, height, and gender. I’d recommend paying more attention to your diet and physical activity.”
Lisabelle flinched, a flush crawling up her cheeks.
“H-How could you say something so cruel to a lady! You two really are alike!”
“Haha! Cow lady! Big fat cow lady!” Viena crowed, skipping in circles.
“You—! I swear, I’ll sew that noisy mouth shut!”
Lisabelle lunged, but Randia’s broad frame easily blocked her path. Viena darted behind him, smirking impishly, while Lisabelle growled in frustration.
“Ugh! Grandma!” she groaned, appealing hopelessly.
Eleanor chuckled softly as she pruned the flowers, deadheading the withered blooms with nimble fingers. She welcomed the lively racket — she treasured moments like this. Few knew, as she did, how fleeting they could be.
“You know, Lisabelle,” Randia said, straightening. “You could stand to learn a thing or two from your grandmother. Especially about how to thank someone properly.”
“Can’t say I disagree with him, little moon,” Eleanor added, her smile warm.
“Aaargh! Why is everyone so annoying!”
Lisabelle ran her hands through her hair, exasperated. Viena doubled over laughing.
Red-faced and stiff as a board, Lisabelle clicked her tongue, her arms locked rigidly by her sides. She averted her eyes, refusing to meet either of their blue gazes.
“Alright, fine then! Whatever… T-Thanks, I guess.”
“You repay action with words alone? You’ve got a long way to go before you’re a proper lady,” Randia remarked dryly.
“Wha—!”
“Gasp! Papa! Even I didn’t know you could be that harsh!”
Lisabelle gritted her teeth so hard it was a wonder they didn’t crack. After a long, simmering breath, she squared her shoulders and jutted her chin forward.
“Very well, then! I’ll make you a pair of mittens as a token of gratitude!”
“Whoa! Really?” Viena beamed.
“Not for you, midget! For your dad!”
Viena’s grin collapsed into a pout. Meanwhile, Randia, kneeling to tie his boots, exhaled a quiet sigh of relief.
“I appreciate the thought,” he said, rising to his feet. “But I don’t know if we’ll be staying long enough for that.”
“What?! Why?!” Viena blurted, startled.
“Yeah, why?!” Lisabelle echoed hastily. “I-I mean—then what should I do?!”
Randia raised a hand, signaling for patience.
“I’m just saying,” he said calmly, “There’s something simpler you could do right now. Easier than knitting mittens.”
Lisabelle narrowed her eyes. “…Hmph. Fine, out with it.”
He dusted his palms on his tunic and patted Viena’s head. Then, with a slight waggle of his eyebrows toward Lisabelle, a silent message passed between them.
“D-Don’t tell me—?”
“I’m glad you caught on.” His lips quirked faintly. “Why don’t you take Viena around town for the day? I admit, I might be wrong about this being easier than making mittens, though.”
Lisabelle shot a sharp glare at Viena, arms folded tight across her chest. Unfazed, Viena puffed her chest out and planted her fists on her hips.
“Seriously? You want me to babysit this midget all day?”
“Babysit?! Midget?! I’m a full-grown woman!”
“You mean a full-grown bean sprout?”
“D-Don’t get ahead of yourself, you fat cow! Let’s see who’s laughing in four or five years! O-Or six!”
Randia cleared his throat, cutting cleanly between them.
“Alright then, Lisabelle. I’ll take that as a yes. Make sure to play safely and look after each other.”
“I—I’m not playing! This is work! I’m just paying off a debt!” Lisabelle snapped.
“I—I’m not playing either! This is my mission!” Viena chimed in, equally indignant.
Randia’s lips twitched, the faintest of smiles pulling at the corner. Watching them squabble — like mismatched siblings stumbling into reluctant camaraderie — stirred something both light and uneasy in him. After months of keeping Viena close under his wing, handing her over, even for a day, left a thin thread of worry tugging at his chest.
But after what happened yesterday — and with the festival swelling Rosmayne’s streets, drawing in the guard’s full vigilance — it was perhaps the safest moment he could ask for. Safer, at least, than most.
“They’re getting along better than they realize,” Eleanor’s voice chimed beside him, soft with mirth.
Randia glanced at her, his composure slipping back into its steady calm.
“. . . I’m about to head out for wood and adhesive. Is there anything you need, Madam? I can take your errands along.”
“My, how thoughtful of you!” Eleanor brightened, brushing dirt from her apron. “I’m thinking of baking a pie today. If it’s no trouble, I’d like some apples — fresh ones, not bruised — and white whole wheat flour. Oh! And we’re running low on spices.” She tilted her head, slyly appraising. “You’re familiar with spices, aren’t you, Ran?”
“I am.”
“Then you’ll know what’s missing in my spice box. Take it with you, won’t you?”
“Of course.” He accepted the small wooden box she handed over without fuss.
“I’ll be back in half an hour, earliest. Please, take the time to rest, Madam.”