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For a long time, the concept of "home" was quite foreign to Lynette.
Lyney was her family, her closest kin, and the pillar that helped her endure one difficult period after another. But what exactly was a home?
Before she became familiar with the concept of "home," before she got to know the streets and alleys of Fontaine, she had already grown accustomed to the cramps in her stomach, the weakness in her limbs, the rain before trials, and the hardships of severe winters.
The wealth of Fontaine was unevenly divided into countless portions, leaving them with only the cheapest bread.
Even such coarse, sand-filled loaves were not a daily "luxury." More often than not, they had to find ways to scavenge scraps from restaurants or markets nearing closing time to fill their stomachs.
Lynette never complained of hunger. Lyney would often share his portion with his younger sister. The frail little cat would take small bites of the thin slice of bread, chewing the wheatless food reluctantly, unwilling to swallow. Lyney would make an excuse to slip away, but she would stand up and stuff the bread back into his hands.
Lynette had no memory of their former home. Occasionally, when she brought it up with Lyney, he would only brush it off with a joke. Compared to those grand mansions, the intricate streets and alleys felt more like their home.
She knew them as well as she knew hunger. The child from which household always had ill intentions, throwing stones at anything that displeased him. Which restaurant often gave out leftover food, and even offered free feasts during festivals. The tailor on East Street taught her needlework and crafts, giving her some fabric to mend Lyney's coat. The plump woman in West Alley kept a large group of small animals and would occasionally wave her round hand from the window, inviting them in for tea.
The soil of poverty does not breed fairness and selflessness. Some shameless people would even rob children of their money. Even though Lynette later understood that wealth could also breed crime, she could never forget that summer night many years ago when the overflowing sewers flooded the entire street. She stood in the filthy water, watching Lyney crouch under a tree, secretly wiping away his tears.
She learned too early to swallow bitter tears, understanding that she couldn't wish for toys in shop windows like other children. But even so, she couldn't help but press her ears and curl her tail in sadness.
Stray cats from the streets would come over, rubbing gently against her ankles. She stroked one of their heads, wondering how nice it would be if she were really a kitten. At least then she wouldn't have to worry about food and clothing for the next day, nor would she receive strange looks because of her appearance.
But she quickly dismissed such childish thoughts. She had learned to stop fantasizing many years ago.
Even after being adopted by nobles, Lynette still didn't understand the meaning of "home" that Lyney had told her in the carriage on their way there.
They wore clothes that didn't chafe their skin, lived in mansions that sheltered them from wind and rain, and the days of wandering were behind them. They no longer had to worry about their future livelihood. But an unprecedented loneliness tightly wrapped around her, pierced only by arrogant gazes.
Their lives had never really changed; they had merely shifted the objects of their讨好 from roadside onlookers to the nobles at banquets.
Her adoptive father unhesitatingly shoved her into the carriage of one of them, ignoring her protests and struggles, as if he were merely giving away a pet, a commodity.
The scent of incense was nauseatingly strong, and the powdered hands were disgustingly slick.
Why her?
She curled up on the soft yet cold sofa, wrapping herself in a blanket.
Until a voice spoke, calm like the sea before the tide, until a figure appeared, almost blending into the night.
"Brooding won't change the situation," she said.
Lynette looked up and met the斜十字 in her eyes. Those blood-red eyes held no sympathy, nor any disdain. It was as if... she were no different from anyone else.
Later, "Father" removed the blanket hiding her ears and ruffled her hair, his touch not gentle, his words not kind.
"Even the most ordinary object can prove useful at an unexpected moment. How much more so you."
Lynette first set foot on the land of Snezhnaya in summer. Unlike Fontaine, even at the hottest time of the year, the nights here still carried a chill.
During the harsh training, she would sometimes climb onto the roof of the House of the Hearth, gazing up at the clear summer night sky, occasionally recalling that blood-stained moonlit night and "Father's" strong hand.
She celebrated her first birthday in Snezhnaya, coinciding with the completion of her training and her first mission.
The first person she saw wasn't Lyney or her companions, nor was it the strict, almost unapproachable instructor.
"Father" quietly visited the House of the Hearth, and it was the first time Lynette had seen him in a year.
Arlecchino casually flipped through the photo album on the desk. Photos of Lyney and Lynette were on the last page, their calm exteriors barely masking their unease in the unfamiliar environment.
She recalled her first meeting with the siblings a year ago: the brother, not even half the height of an adult, had lost his hat, biting his lower lip bloody to keep the tears at bay.
The sister, who had inherited some ancestral traits, curled up in a corner of the blue velvet sofa, clutching a blanket and refusing to let go.
A year had passed, and their performance had far exceeded her expectations. Outstanding students deserved rewards.
Lynette knocked on the office door and was unexpectedly met with the person she hadn't anticipated. She clasped her hands behind her back, unconsciously rubbing the freshly ironed hem of her clothes. The experiences of the past year, the details of her missions, flashed through her mind in mere seconds.
She was prepared for an evaluation, but "Father" simply put down the photo album and spoke in the voice that occasionally appeared in her dreams:
"Happy birthday."
Arlecchino observed Lynette. She had grown taller, filled out, and most importantly, she was no longer timid.
"You performed your mission excellently, something to be proud of for a newcomer."
"There's still," Lynette almost bit her tongue, "a lot of room for improvement."
"Leave the striving for tomorrow," Arlecchino leaned against the desk, saying to her, "I've always believed that balancing work and rest is essential for achieving something—so, Lynette, would you like to take a walk with me?"
The grand palace stood on the pure white marble shore, its architectural style a blend of Snezhnayan tradition and innovative changes. The streets along the riverbank were orderly, intersecting yet ultimately converging before the statue of the Tsaritsa.
Lynette observed the unfamiliar city. It was the first time in a year she had walked through it without any burdens. At times, it seemed like a massive stage set, dazzlingly.
She followed "Father," occasionally answering her casual inquiries, momentarily lost in thought, as if they were truly a "father and daughter" on a holiday outing.
But the hidden guards in the crowd quickly brought Lynette back to reality, and she followed "Father" closely, secretly glancing at her.
At that time, her curse had not yet consumed her entire arm. If not for those eyes, dressed simply, she appeared no different from anyone else.
On the streets, "Father" introduced her to the avenues and alleys of the capital, its residents and passersby. The Tsaritsa's summer palace, the headquarters of the Fatui, the old site of the House of the Hearth, the building of the Northland Bank. Here lived a reckless alchemist, there resided a couple of scholars from the School of Enkanomiya...
"...the desserts are good, I hope they prepared the cake from this place for you."
Lynette looked up at "Father's" face and suddenly realized that she, like herself, was a living, tangible presence in this place.
"Distracted."
Lynette snapped back to attention.
"Do I seem different from what you imagined?"
She instinctively wanted to deny it but knew she couldn't hide it from "Father."
"Yes."
"...People like us must occasionally step into the sunlight. Otherwise, even if our actions are just, staying in the shadows too long can lead to being consumed by darkness."
Arlecchino stopped walking, secretly noting the name of a shop across the street.
"Whether it's you or others, you must remember one thing—what I want is not machines focused solely on their goals, but 'Fatui' who understand their own value and its significance."
"Even the most ordinary object..." Lynette replied.
"You remember," Arlecchino said, "Well done."
Compared to the exquisite delicacies, Lynette seemed more interested in the ice cream from the street vendor.
It was her first time eating ice cream, amazed by its sweet taste and cool texture.
Before being adopted by nobles, it was a treat she could only dream of. After being adopted, it became a wish she couldn't voice and would never be granted.
Years later, when Lynette finished a performance and saw various snacks outside the theater, she would still remember that distant afternoon, the sun high, the sky cloudless. She stood by the colorful ice cream cart, looking past the cream topped with soft candies, seeing "Father's" slightly curved lips, secretly storing the sweetness and her smile in her heart.
Before nightfall, Arlecchino brought Lynette back to the House of the Hearth. As night fell, the opened door revealed warm light. She watched as confetti and cheers surrounded the girl, then turned and stepped into the endless night.
Returning to Fontaine wasn't as joyful as Lynette had imagined. When she left, she was just a bewildered child, untouched by the many conflicts. Now, times had changed, and she returned as a member of the Fatui, bearing the corresponding responsibilities.
Lyney's magic show was a great success, and the process of integrating into their new home, the "Bouffant Mansion," proceeded smoothly after a brief setback.
After one performance, Lynette found a litter of abandoned kittens at the theater's back door. They were too weak from hunger to flee, only staring nervously at her eyes.
Seeing them, Lynette couldn't help but think of her former self, of "Father."
So she didn't reach out to disturb them, only silently watched their eyes. Until they seemed to understand she meant no harm, finally lowering their aching heads, quiet and calm, waiting for the girl before them to take them to a new "home."
On the founding day of the Bouffant Mansion, Lynette felt that Lyney was hiding something from everyone. Her intuition proved accurate as, with the sound of a paper cannon, "Father" miraculously appeared in the center of the hall.
She cut the cake for everyone present and gave out unique gifts. That night, Lynette opened her gift box to find a large teddy bear, the same one that had caught her eye on the streets of Snezhnaya a year ago.
What is home? By now, Lynette was no longer confused.
Reality had long washed away her childhood innocence, but under "Father's" protection, she had found a corner to preserve its remnants.
When she and Lyney leaped off the cliff, it was that so-called "corner" that drove their decision.
The fall didn't take her life, and the pain couldn't stop her steps.
"Good ears, useful for eavesdropping," she remembered "Father" saying.
If the path ahead is unclear, listen. So she gripped Lyney's hand and carried him on her shoulders.
The scenery before her grew clearer, her steps more determined. When the dawn light entered the forest, she saw the rendezvous camp, "Father's" figure, and suddenly all her strength drained away. Before she could hand over the evidence to "Father," her consciousness faded completely.
She woke at midnight, her abdomen and calf throbbing faintly. Lynette opened her eyes to a pure white sight.
"Lyney..." she murmured, not expecting a response.
"He's badly injured, but not in mortal danger. Thanks to you."
As her senses returned, she suddenly realized she was nestled in "Father's" arms. The latter leaned against the headboard, her thick cloak enveloping both of them.
"Huh?"
"Relax, you're not delaying me in any way."
Arlecchino flipped to the next page of the document, casually holding down the twitching, ticklish furry ears.
"You wouldn't let go," she said.
"Sorry," Lynette didn't dare move.
"No need to apologize. You did well this time. My only request now is for you to rest and recover fully."
Arlecchino soothingly ruffled her hair, deciding to ignore the tail wrapped around her waist.
For just a moment, Lynette carefully embraced the person before her.