“Come back soon, Anna, Melody!”
“Teach me to sew next time!”
“I’m gonna be way faster!”
“Don’t forget the snacks, please.”
The children bade their guests farewell, each in their own unique, potentially hunger-inspired way.
“Thank you for stopping by,” Sister Annabelle said. “We’ll miss your company.”
“It was very nice to meet you. We’ll be sure to visit again,” Melody replied.
“Things will be busy for some time, but you’ll be in our thoughts until we return,” said Anna.
The girls quickly went on their way, the sun now hanging precariously over the lip of the horizon.
“Busy?” Melody asked. “With what?”
“Have you forgotten the academy will be in session soon? We’ll have no end of responsibilities then.”
“Will you be joining Lady Anna-Marie as her attendant? That’s my plan at least.”
“Oh, um, n-no. Well, not immediately. Servants come and go, you know. Who’s to say?”
“I see. I hoped we might get to see each other more often.” Melody wore an expression of reluctant understanding.
Anna’s was more one of relief. “You’re joining Lady Luciana, then?”
“I’m the only servant in her employ, after all.”
“But then who’s going to look after the estate?”
“I’ve an idea to address that, as a matter of fact.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“A secret.” Melody put her finger in front of her lips and smirked oh-so charmingly. The sheer adorableness was enough to turn Anna off the subject entirely.
Then she saw something that gave her pause. As she stared at the building next to the orphanage—the church—she recalled a certain scene that had yet to come to pass.
“Say, Melody, why don’t we stop at the church before going home?”
“The church? I suppose we could.”
Giving her no time to process the request, Anna took Melody by the hand and guided them inside. Then kept going.
“Anna, should we be here?”
“Quiet. If we weren’t supposed to be here, we wouldn’t be.”
The logic of a wrongdoer in a place they shouldn’t be. Regardless, they continued until they arrived at their destination.
“Up this way,” Anna said.
“Up here?”
After climbing a spiral staircase, they emerged on the top of the belfry. The twilight-tinged capital and its innumerable, snaking roads unspooled before them like a tapestry.
“Well?” Anna said. “Worth it?”
“Yes, I do think so.” Melody sighed in awe at the city bathed in red. Were they trespassing? It didn’t matter anymore.
Anna watched her watch. Technically this isn’t supposed to happen today, but neither was a whole bunch of other stuff, so…meh.
The date itself only lasted a day, but the arc it triggered would continue for some time. They had to bring the embezzler to justice and renovate and resupply the orphanage, and that only scratched the surface of the tasks that lay ahead. Typically, the event completed itself in the background while the player focused on other endeavors. At the end, the player received this scene as a reward: Paltescia at sunset.
It all started from a lie. The heroine and the prince came to the orphanage under false pretenses, but the good they’d done was very real. Yet, as they walked, the girl did not seem pleased with their success.
She had much on her mind. She’d come to understand her guard, and even enjoy his company, and she’d made friends at Royal Academy. Her life had gotten easier, but still she failed to connect with her father. Every day she spent in the count’s estate formed another awkward memory, unlike the nun with her kids. Though bound not by blood, they were a family in the truest sense, and it reminded the heroine of what she lacked. What she had lost.
The prince noticed, and just like Anna, he took the heroine to the belfry. There, just like Melody, the heroine witnessed the city in all its golden glory.
And just like Melody, she said, “Look, there’s the orphanage.”
“There it is,” Anna replied. Just like Christopher.
Those humble wooden walls stood proud, battered not by age but by all they had endured. The orphanage was beautiful in its imperfection. In its courtyard, a few of the more rambunctious children continued to run and play. Melody watched in silence, just as the heroine did.
Anna observed her silhouette, limned by the sun’s rays, and recognition dawned. “The…heroine?”
She’d seen this before in a CG in the game. What a coincidence that Melody happened to be wearing clothes different in design but perfectly identical in form to the heroine’s. What a coincidence that her hair happened to flutter in the wind in the exact same way as the heroine’s. Maybe, just maybe, she was the heroine.
Anna stepped forward, and by coincidence, she felt the same unease Christopher did. He would have said, “C-Cecilia?”
She said, “M-Melody?”
She peered at Melody. In a fake world, this would have been the moment when the heroine said, “Thank you for bringing me here, Your Highness.” Smiling sadly. Feebly.
And His Highness’s heart would leap. Assuming the player met the right conditions, the heroine would speak of her late mother, and they would grow closer.
Melody turned to Anna, and she said, “Thank you for bringing me here, Anna.”
And she smiled. Not sadly. Brightly.
“Not her.”
“Pardon?”
Anna startled. “T-talking to myself! I’m glad you like it. We should come back someday.”
“With permission, I hope,” Melody giggled.
Anna nodded. Perhaps a bit hysterically. Don’t be silly, she scolded herself. Confusing Melody with the heroine. What am I, a fake fan? But she really looked like her for a second.
That silhouette had been her, without a doubt. At least Anna thought it had been. Regardless, they descended the belfry.
The power of preconceptions was truly frightening. A mere change of color could fool one into thinking the quacking, waddling, duck-like creature before them was not, in fact, a duck. Especially when Anna herself was using the exact same strategies to hide her own identity. Then again, these silly, baffling mistakes were what made us human.