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Freed from the oppressive sadness of the rest of the House, Isabeau takes the party's short reprieve to silently check in on his friends. They won't get another chance to rest before the final battle with the King. The House has shifted in strange ways, but Isabeau is nevertheless sure of that much. It will be a relief to finally end the Curse, but it'll be a little sad, too. To say goodbye to everyone after traveling together for months. He shook his head, dismissing the thought for now. Maybe some of them could still travel together, and in any case, they'd all keep in touch, right?
Siffrin is the one he's most worried about, though he can't quite tell what, exactly, is bothering them. They have always be a little distant, quick with a joke or a pun to brush off an awkward question, but it's different now. When everyone looks away – at least, when Siffrin thinks that's the case – the easy smile falls away and their shoulders slump beneath the weight of an unknown burden. It feels like a lifetime has passed since the last time Siffrin's smile reached their eyes, though they were their usual self only two days ago. What could have possibly changed since then? If only they would talk to him, and tell him what they needed to feel better. Isn't that what friends are for?
They sit down next to Mirabelle and lean in, speaking quietly. She offers to brush their hair and to Isabeau's surprise, they accept the offer, sinking down in front of her and allowing her to run a comb through their soft, brightly-shaded hair. They close their eyes, leaning into her touch very slightly. Isabeau didn't know that Siffrin liked being touched or he would have... “Crab.”
Oh, he hadn't meant to say that aloud. He glanced over to Odile, half-expecting her to be watching him with a raised eyebrow and that smug little smirk of hers. She had a gift for noticing all his most embarrassing moments. Hopefully she was too engrossed in that book she'd been carrying around today.
Odile was sitting a few feet away, legs tucked neatly under her, book laid out on her lap, but she wasn't even pretended to read it. Instead, she was watching Siffrin and Mirabelle very intently, her brows furrowed in a way that looked almost... troubled. What?
He has to be misinterpreting what he's seeing. This has to be projection. There is no way Madame Odile was interested in Siffrin. But then, why wouldn't she be? He was kind and funny and so crabbing cute. Of course she liked him. And how was he supposed to compete with Odile?! She was so cool and mysterious. And since the two of them had come back from whatever they were doing in the woods, they'd been shooting each other Meaningful Looks. What was that all about?
“Hey, M'dame Odile?” he asks nervously. All this time, he'd been worried about Mirabelle – was Odile the real competition all along? Siffrin always did seem to enjoy talking to her. And they were always bonding over being the only two foreigners in the group.
She barely takes her eyes off Siffrin. “Yes, Isabeau?”
“What are you reading?” He points to the book on her lap, hoping to distract both her and himself. It's thick and expensive-looking, and she's been carrying it since yesterday after her little hangout with Siffrin. A dried, brightly-shaded flower is resting on the page.
“Oh, it's...” she trails off, her cheeks warming a little. “A familytale. Siffrin found it for me yesterday.”
She turns her gaze back to them, frowning slightly as if they're a puzzle she can't figure out.
He has to wonder where Siffrin found a familytale. Most Vauguardian families wouldn't just hand theirs out to a random traveler. It's an impressively good gift for Odile, no matter where he got it. She loves books and learning about Vauguardian culture, and a familytale would be a rare thing for an outsider to come across. Nicely done, Siffrin.
Odile follows his line of sight to the dried flower and picks it up delicately between her forefinger and thumb. There's a sudden, mischievous glint in her eye. “Hm? Oh, Siffrin got this for me as well. I was a little surprised, but it's thoughtful, isn't it?”
Isabeau wants to scream internally. He doesn't know how things work in Ka Bue or wherever Sif is from, but in Vauguard, you only give flowers to people you like. “Sif... gave it to you?”
There it is – the smirk he expected earlier appears. “You really ought to get a move on before Siffrin does, Isabeau. Maybe I'll confess to Siffrin, just to show you it isn't that bad-- oh, come on Isabeau, he'll reject me, of course.”
Oh, Change. This is worse than Isabeau thought. He's in love with Siffrin and can't say it, Siffrin's in love with Odile, and Odile knows the former but is blind to the latter. This is the stuff romantic tragedies are made of! Oh, Odile. Why are you so perceptive to everything but this?
Odile pats him on the shoulder twice. “I'm only teasing, Isabeau. Mostly. You do need to tell them at some point, before our journey ends. After we save the world seems like a good time for dramatic confessions. Now leave me be, I'm busy.”
Isabeau sits back in his spot and finishes his snack thoughtfully. Maybe he shouldn't bother confessing at all, and just try to help Siffrin out with Odile. Both of them are awfully reserved – it'll probably take a little help for them to work out. After all, what else are friends for?