🎠 (for Cass and Viv please)
Send 🎠 for one of my muse’s childhood memories
“No! I won’t go!” Vestalus stood at the base of the stairs, giving her that look that did not brook childish misbehavior from his charges.
“It was not an invitation, Cassandra. We are going to pay respects to your family and you will come with.” At the top of the stairs, Cassandra’s hands balled into fists, her small shoulders shaking.
“I told you I was never going back there,” she said, a wobble in her voice.
How could Vestalus forget? How at the end of Anthony’s funeral, Cassandra had wept and wailed that she was never setting foot in the Grand Necropolis again, how she had screamed that they were all lunatics, to parade about so, and how much she wished she and Anthony lived anywhere else? She had made such a scene Vestalus had to hustle her off to the carriage, past the stricken Mortalitasi, and the other Pentaghasts staring as if she had just desecrated the graves of half their lineage, so she could sob until she couldn’t breathe anymore in private.
“It will just be us, this time,” Vestalus said. “No one else from the family is coming.”
“What about your parents? What about Anthony?”
“I’m not going!” Cassandra’s voice trembled, but held firm. It made no sense, to Vestalus–paying respects to the dead was their only remaining link to the departed. Cassandra, who had grieved so powerfully for each of her lost family members, should have taken comfort in it!
He sighed, and rubbing the space between his eyebrows.
“Cassandra, this is important,” he said. “They will want to see you.”
“They can’t want anything! And I don’t care! They’re gone and no amount of necromancy is going to change that! They’re dead, they’re all dead and they left me here and they can keep each other company!” She turned from the stairs and disappeared down the hall, the black hem of her dress billowing after her.
Vestalus sighed again. Perhaps he was too old for this. He left without fighting Cassandra further.
She sat between Lenore’s knees on the stool, transcribing the short text she had been given to keep her busy. Lenore had tried to brush her hair before, but she had done it all wrong, so Mary, who had hair like Vivienne’s, had shown her how to do it properly to not tear it. Now, Mary had shown Lenore how to braid it, and so Lenore was carefully plaiting Vivienne’s hair into cornrows, a process that had taken much of the morning, with a bit of squirming from her charge.
“Almost done,” Lenore announced. Her voice had a soft, almost musical quality, and she rarely ever spoke sharply to Vivienne. “How are your sentences coming?”
“Mm.” Lenore tied off the last of Vivienne’s braids and picked up the hand mirror sitting on the bed beside her to pass it to the girl.
“There, have a look! What do you think? You have such lovely hair.” Vivienne examined her reflection, turning her face this way and that, pulling experimentally at the ends of her braids. Wordlessly, she handed the mirror back and looked back at Lenore.
“All done,” Lenore confirmed. “Come and sit for a moment.” She patted her leg, and Vivienne moved from the stool to the enchanter’s lap. “I used to have a baby, you know?” she said.
“Mhm. Sayaka told me,” Vivienne said.
“They took him away. He belongs to the Chantry now. But that’s why First Enchanter Tamika gave me you!” She wrapped her arms around the girl to squeeze her, and Vivienne smiled. “There aren’t many babies in the Circle, so I got lucky!”
“I’m not a baby,” Vivienne protested. “I’m six!”
“Yes, yes, of course. I’m sorry, you’re not a baby. You’re a big girl.” Lenore bounced her knee and Vivienne hopped down, spinning to face the enchanter.
“Can we play with the building blocks now?”
“Of course, sweet girl, let’s get the blocks.” Lenore smiled. “We’ll build an entire city!”
