They cheered when they finished, immediately setting the crowns in their hair. Some wore them at an angle, just for fun, and a quirky few used them as armbands. All shared beaming smiles.
Anna smiled with relief. She’d made the right choice. But what if this is why the heroine’s missing? Because I’m doing the things she’s supposed to be doing? What if I’m the one keeping her away because I’m robbing her of her destiny?
Destiny certainly seemed at play in this world. They were following the narrative of the game bit by bit, but they were also heading steadily off course because they lacked a heroine for reasons unknown. Anna did have a clue, though, based on what Luciana had revealed to her in the palace.
Little changes here and there are one thing, she thought, but kingdom-spanning initiatives like the staging service? Those aren’t in the game. Those are bound to cause big deviations. Not to mention that I’m not even Anna-Marie Victillium, not as she’s meant to be, anyway. Christopher’s still Christopher for the most part, but me?
The villainess of The Silver Saint and the Five Oaths, Anna-Marie Victillium, was a self-absorbed, cowardly simpleton, the heroine’s rival, and an overall nuisance.
Anna-Marie, the living and breathing one, was not she. She was the Scarlet Seductress. The perfect lady. Not the villainess. Not a rival. Between the transportation service and the complete transformation of a major character, it went without saying which had likely caused the most theoretical narrative damage.
I never cared about the plot. I’m just running in the dark, doing whatever’s best for me in the moment. It took me nine whole years to realize that.
She let out a sigh.
“Are you upset, Anna?” one of the girls asked, noticing her shift.
She put on her best smile. “Nope. Not at all. Just thinking about something I messed up a little while ago.”
“Oh, okay, but it’ll be all right.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you’re gonna have a happy ending! You’re gonna come out with a smile on your face!”
“A happy ending?”
“Yeah! Right, everyone?”
“We had a happy ending, so that means you will too,” a girl agreed.
“Uh-huh,” said another. “Otherwise the aftertaste’ll be yucky.”
“Happy ending!” the rest cheered.
Something warm and fuzzy filled Anna’s chest. “Yeah. You girls are right.”
She’d given hope to these girls. Hope for the future. Who said she couldn’t give it to herself as well?
So what if I’ve changed some things? That doesn’t mean we’re headed for ruin. In fact, the changes had brought new joy where before there was none. Luciana was alive, and these kids were happy. Anna had done more good than bad. We don’t need the plot’s permission to have our happy ending. I can still find it, even if I’m not playing the role I’m “supposed” to play.
A light turned on inside her, warm and bright.
“Kids, we cut up the fruit! Come back to the dining hall and have some!” called, without question, the top of said plot’s most-wanted list.
The kids ran screaming. Three square meals a day and basic living conditions didn’t make for a lavish lifestyle. The occasional treat, especially of the sweet variety, never failed to excite the little ones.
Anna found herself alone. After all their begging and pleading to play with her, suddenly she was old news to the kids. She shook her head, smiling at the fragility of a child’s attention span.
When she stood, Melody was grinning softly at her. “Ready to come inside?”
“I’ll be right there.”
Anna followed her inside, clinging to the smile adorning her face. She’d never let it go again.
The kids devoured their snacks with glee. “Yum!”
“My thoughts exactly,” Annabelle said. “Thank you for doing this, Melody.”
“It was my pleasure,” replied the maid. Far be it from her to settle for simply slicing fruit. Melody could do better than that.
“This syrup’s to die for. Sour yet sweet,” Anna said. “You made this from the piunes?”
“I did. In the absence of sugar, fruit is generally a suitable substitute.”
They’d donated piunes to the orphanage, a kind of citrus similar to oranges. Melody had turned some of them into a simple liquid topping, skinned and sliced the rest, and crafted a modest dessert.
“They go together well. I suppose they would,” Anna said.
“Had we more time, I would have liked to make something a little more involved.”
“This is more than enough, Melody,” said the caretaker. “You’ve given me a very versatile recipe to add to my repertoire. I imagine I can adapt it easily to other fruits we happen to have on hand too.”
“I’m glad it’s to your liking.” Melody returned Sister Annabelle’s smile.
Anna was watching the children demolish their desserts when she noticed an empty chair. “Sister, are we missing somebody?”
“Ah, that’s one of our newest,” she replied. “She’s out at the moment.”
“All alone? Is that safe?” Anna asked.
“She’s very smart for her age, and exceptionally willful. She’s gotten it into her head that she needs to find work. I suspect that’s what she’s run off to do.”
“I’ve set aside a portion for her,” Melody said. “She’s only nine, if you can believe it.”
“Nine?” Anna repeated in disbelief. “I sincerely doubt she’ll find somewhere willing to hire someone so young.”
Medieval Europe might not have minded, but this was an otome game made in the modern age. It was exceptionally rare for children her age to work in the capital, or even on the kingdom’s outskirts, for that matter. Not even Melody, hailing from a small village far off in a borderland, worked at age nine.
“Is she not acclimating well?” Anna asked.
“Hardly,” Sister Annabelle replied. “She gets along with the other kids just fine, but one day, she blurted out something about how the orphanage needs money, and she’s been stubborn as a wall ever since.”
Annabelle appreciated the thought, but goodness was she a handful.