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Not only had Columbina unexpectedly showed up, she had also invited herself to Sandrone’s tea party (which she had forced her to have out of the blue).
Like before, she ordered Pulonia to set up her favorite tea for two before he left. The maiden’s newest obsession seemed to be friendship;she had gained many new ones as of late, apparently including Sandrone herself.
If she wanted to play friends, so be it. Marionette could indulge her further, only because she was growing bored of endless manuscripts.
“You will almost make me think you came to Nod Krai just to see me, Sandrone.’’
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I was dispatched here to take you back, not to deepen our ‘friendship’.’’
“Yet you defy the orders, not turning me in…’’
“It happens to benefit me, that’s all there is to it.’’
“Hm…’’ Columbina gave an infuriatingly serene smile, leaning closer to her over the table, “I don’t believe you, dear Sandrone.’’
Attempting to cover her blush, she took a sip of her tea.The Marionette sighed, “I don’t care whether you believe me or not, Columbina.’’
If this gathering continued further, Sandrone was sure she would lose her mind. How was Columbina so calm, as if nothing had happened? First, she had left her after the Harbinger had spent so long getting used to her presence; then, she started to act like they were friends. Some nerve she had!
Frankly, had it been left at parting ways, she would have simply retrieved the Damselette back to Snezhnaya. Somehow, events had led Sandrone to hold back from obeying the Palestar Edict, which would put her in grave danger if it were to be found out.
She questioned whether Columbina was worth disobeying the orders. Her mind had tried to tell her countless times she was not, yet her heart defied her rationale. Sandrone had been alive for a long time, and had witnessed those she once knew get lost in the current of their feelings. She had judged them, deemed them as incapable of achieving greater accomplishments; but alas, she was in the same situation she once looked down upon.
For a woman with goals, love was the greatest threat.
And that said love was testing her patience’s threshold.
Truly, it was a matter of time before she yelled at Columbina’s feigned innocence. It was as if the maiden had experienced memory loss, as if the past meant nothing. Surely, the woman knew not to take Sandrone's actions to heart. Else, why had she sung at her door? When the Marionette tried to dismiss her, she would reply with “My lullaby will help you sleep better.’’ Why had she pretended to care about Sandrone the most, when her songs would be welcomed more by others?
Why had she taken Sandrone on walks, holding her hand as it snowed? Why had she read romance novels next so Sandrone as the latter worked, kissing when she finished?
Maybe Columbina had never seen her as a lover. Simply a friend with whom she could satisfy her curiosity regarding the things she read.
After their breakup, as cheesy writers would call it, the Marionette had hoped to never see her again, despite the burning ache screaming otherwise. Unfortunately, life never listened to the heart’s whims.
Sandrone had experienced all sorts of unpleasant emotions throughout her life, yet it was Columbina who had introduced her to jealousy. It was the ugliest of sensations, capable of ruining any relationship. Sharp enough that Columbina needed to be grateful to Sandrone for not taking her back to the Tsaritsa at that very moment when she was at her weakest; tender enough that the person causing it was also the reason she wouldn’t do such a thing.
Indeed, love was the deadliest weapon, piercing through Sandrone’s chest.
“That’s enough tea, Columbina. I have work to do.’’
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The last hug Columbina had given her was unlike any other she had received. Back in the land of snow, as the Marionette was working, the maiden used to lightly hug her from the back to tease her. Many winters later, unbeknownst to her, the Damselette had embraced her for the last time before her parting, but it hadn’t been as heavy. Before Sandrone could reciprocate, Columbina had walked away, such was the nature of their relationship.
For a moment, just for a split second, Sandrone had thought Columbina wouldn’t leave her again as they played. It was foolish, but even a doll’s heart yearned for warmth to escape the cold.
Soon enough, she was handed a card by the traveler and her companion, a last gift for the moon goddess to take back home. Sandrone indulged, much more willing than she seemed. Columbina had mentioned if Sandrone were to die, she wouldn’t forget her, although she wasn’t so certain about it anymore considering how they had started over.
When they left, the Marionette’s hand found its way to the cat ears she had put on for the maiden. Seeing Columbina have fun around with her newly found friends annoyed her beyond reason, as if she was no more than one of them. As if they were never more.
The Damselette was no longer, now Columbina Hyposelenia; but Sandrone had remained as the Marionette. The kisses, hand-holding, and lullabies that once disturbed her had become an echo of what they once were.
Were they ever meant to be more than that?
In a rage, she took off the head accessory and headed back to the Bureau as everyone gathered around the goddess.
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Columbina wasn’t back, but she wasn't on the moon either.
Her wish had been forcefully taken away from her, with no one knowing where she was.
Her heart had betrayed her once more, giving her hope of a return; maybe rescued, maybe on her own. A part of her, the part that loved the maiden, wished for her to be where she belonged. The selfish part of Sandrone, however, longed to have Columbina back by her side, even if it meant endless teasing.
Love was a double edged sword for a woman of passion. It didn’t just rip one’s chest but also of those who dared to hurt.
Love reignited hope no matter how many times it was extinguished.
No matter what it took, Sandrone knew Columbina would come back to her.