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Morning is announced with Emilico drawing open the curtains, letting in the sunshine and all of Kate’s worries again. Drowsy from sleep, Kate takes in the sight of Emilico flitting around her room like a barely contained whirlwind, already this energetic despite the early hours of the day. She’s still learning to clean well, but she’s already so eager to devote herself to it.
Kate wonders how much of that eagerness is really Emilico.
She’s grateful that it’s Emilico out of anyone else, at least. She wonders if it’s a blessing or a curse sometimes. It’s comforting to have someone familiar around, but she barely knows anything about Emilico. She’s all on her own in the end. Kate has to learn to utilise her partner—one she doesn’t even know can be trusted—for the sake of taking back the Mirrors House. At this point, she really only has her determination.
Kate reads after a bath, feeling better after a clean change of clothes. Kate feels fresher. Sharper. She goes through most of the books at the bottom of her shelf before she cranes her head around her armchair and looks outside, stretching her legs and cracking her stiff joints gratefully. She does this as quietly as she can like she always does, but even then Emilico is too busy fussing over some soot accumulated in a corner to notice. She sweeps it out thoroughly, disposes of the soot, and turns around to declare that cleaning is done. Kate inclines her head to indicate that she’s absorbed in her book, and it’s mostly in times like these that she’s glad to be a shadow.
“The cleaning is done!” Emilico raises her hand, happy to deliver good news, and Kate decides that they will have tea together. Kate takes a seat at the table as Emilico washes downstairs, tapping a finger on the tabletop. She glances at the slight imprint of soot it leaves on the tablecloth. Years ago, she would have taken her hand off quickly—out of uncertainty, disgust and at some point fear—but now she takes it off for a different reason. She simply does not want to dirty the cloth. Really, she wonders why the Shadows House even bothers with white.
She watches attentively when Emilico returns, careful to show only mild interest. Emilico glances at a mirror while she passes for a last check and, with a satisfied smile at herself, confirms her appearance presentable. She sets the kettle over the glowing fire. When she picks up the tray of pastries, Kate leans forward a little—there’s soot and grime behind her ears.
Emilico doesn’t take this very well when she’s informed, of course. Her cheeks are flushed from embarrassment and she’s panicking, but Kate is—has to be patient.
“Emilico, Kate will wipe it for you. Come on.” Kate rummages in the drawers for a clean cloth and motions her over in front of the vanity, gentle but thorough in getting off all the smudges of soot, stressing over the importance of how they must be careful at the debut. It is not the first time she’s told Emilico this. It is one of many, laced with frustration and worry and constant, constant stress and nerves, and Kate is starting to realise that all this stressing must be a reminder for herself more than anyone else.
“...At this rate,” Emilico starts, hesitant but ever honest, “I’ll end up embarrassing you at the debut, Miss Kate.”
Kate pauses.
“I wonder if I’m defective,” Emilico adds. “Miss Kate is neat and wonderful, nothing like me. I wonder if I can become like that.”
Kate turns away. It’s strange seeing Emilico so disheartened, even if her feelings change like the wind—every change just seems to make her happier, more excited, or occasionally, just a little let down. Emilico experiences everything with her whole heart, and Kate has never met anyone like that.
She decides to do something she’s been considering for a while. Pulling on a pair of gloves, she draws a chair and looks up at Emilico.
“Kate is very good at dressing up. She can make you look more feminine.”
Emilico is startled. “No, I’m sorry, for Miss Kate to do all this for me is…” she trails off, flustered.
Kate bites her lip, frowning. How should she go about this? What should she say?
“Kate wants to play with her doll,” it comes to her.
“Sit, Emilico.”
Emilico sits.
This is good. She can do things like this. When she has no other choice, she can play into the roles they’ve been given.
When Kate presents her makeup box, Emilico leans forward a little. Kate opens it, pristine combs and intricate tins and glass bottles sparkling in the sunlight. Emilico brightens up.
“This is a cosmetics box. If one learns to use it well, it can make a face look lovely.”
“I adore it!”
Emilico opens a tin of powder, curious. “What’s this?”
“It’s powder, to improve the complexion. You don’t need it yet.”
Emilico looks at the unfamiliar substance longingly, and her eyes light up.
“Oh! You know what? I just thought of something! If Miss Kate uses this, maybe we can see your face.” Emilico brushes the powder puff against her cheek.
“Don’t!” Kate yells, flinching back.
A moment passes. In seconds, the spot is swallowed by the soot on her face. She has tried this before, of course she has. And it has never worked. She has wondered if other new shadows will try it, or perhaps there is one trying it now, at this very moment, in this very house. She wonders if the other shadows are content enough with their appearance, or if they do not have a desire or the curiosity to want to see what they might look like. Maybe they don’t even know if they have a face. She has often considered that the shadows who were not even once human are different from her.
Kate calms down. Emilico doesn’t know. It’s not her fault.
“Emilico… Kate is sorry. She doesn’t need this, it will only turn black right away.”
Emilico rushes to apologise, brows creased in worry. She’s gone back to where she was minutes ago, when she was worrying in front of the mirror, all the joy dropped from her face.
“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have—”
Kate pushes a finger over Emilico’s mouth, keeping her quiet.
“Kate will comb your hair.”
Kate takes the bows off her pigtails, setting them on the table. She threads her gloved fingers through Emilico’s hair, assessing the work she will have to do, and starts with teasing out all the knots in it.
“You should comb your hair more, Emilico. Too many knots will damage it. You should start washing it thoroughly too.”
“I didn’t know knots could do that,” Emilico’s hands twist in her lap. “I’ll do my best. I’ll wash my hair everyday.” She nods, determined.
Kate smiles to herself. “Just once in a while is fine. You have nice hair. Kate is a bit envious.”
“Ehh?” Emilico whips around in her chair. “I think Miss Kate’s hair is wonderful, too!”
“You can’t even see it.” Kate takes out the last knot she can find and starts combing her untangled hair, watching the strands slip through the teeth of the comb without a hitch. When Emilico’s hair is taken care of, it’s soft. It suits her.
“It suits you! Really!” Emilico insists.
“Turn back around,” Kate clears her throat. Setting aside the comb, she retrieves another pair of her rose barrettes and pulls the hair into pigtails again. She leans over the side of the chair to get a look.
“I wonder if Kate should dress you up while we’re at it,” mutters Kate. She has already decided, but she says it anyway.
“Go into the other room and put on Kate’s clothes.”
When Emilico emerges, slowly closing the door behind her, she moves in gentler steps. She seems to admire the way she looks, but she’s nervous dressing up in Kate’s clothes.
“How does it look?” she asks, smoothing down a fold on her chest.
Kate stares. Something clicks into place.
“To be honest, dressing a Living Doll in a Shadow’s attire isn’t allowed,” she admits. The words tumble out of her mouth. “But now Kate sees why,” she adds, as Emilico fumbles in shock. “It makes the Doll look like the real thing.”
Emilico shakes her head, aghast. “That’s not right! I don’t notice when I’m dirty, and I can’t act like a lady like Miss Kate—and even if I wore nice clothes, I’d end up damaging them one way or another!”
Emilico reaches for Kate’s hands, grasping them earnestly. “Miss Kate is the one who helped me look like this!”
She looks at her, genuine, unyielding. She steps closer, imitating the way Kate stands. “I’m your mirror, Miss Kate.”
She pulls a smile, nearly grinning. “Look, Miss Kate is smiling!”
Kate huffs. “Don’t manipulate Kate’s expressions with yours.” She turns away.
“Waah—I meant, um, I thought Miss Kate might be smiling—”
Kate takes a seat facing away as Emilico struggles for excuses, resting her chin on the back of her hand like she’s displeased.
“Oh!”
Huh? Kate thinks, wondering what Emilico’s noticed.
“There’s no soot coming from your head, so Miss Kate was just teasing me!”
“Ah, there’s soot now. I said something I shouldn’t have…”