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Clorinde could immediately tell by the look in her Captain's eyes that her new shift was not going to be an easy one. Why? Was it because she trounced all the other new recruits during their monthly rankings? Was it because she spoke back to her superior officer when he made a bad call on their mission the other day? The potential reasons were endless.
And ultimately, they were of little importance.
"Count your lucky stars, recruit," said the Captain. "A guard spot just opened up on Lady Furina's night shift detail." He went on to spin a yarn about how honorable the position was— how she should feel proud to have obtained this opportunity as the freshly recruited Champion Duelist. Clorinde was no longer listening.
Often times, there was more information to be gleaned from what a person didn't say rather they actually did. Clorinde had acquired this skill from a very young age, and it had much to do with who she was today. For example, the Captain didn't mention a single word about who else had applied or on what merit she was chosen. Likely, the position was undervalued by the inner circle of the Garde and was meted out for daring to rebel against their deeply rooted social hierarchy.
Resistance would be futile.
Clorinde had nothing to say to fools who acted king on their small plot of land. Without the slightest change in expression, she picked up the assignment document and left with steady steps.
The evening sun had already sunk far beneath the horizon. Her first night shift was bound to begin soon. Having just finished a full rotation during the day, Clorinde knew exactly who must have come up with this nasty idea. That petty foot soldier who had become increasingly arrogant in her prescence despite losing miserably to her during last month's match. A sigh escaped her lips.
Those who hated her, were jealous of her—would all have to be sorely disappointed. Clorinde lost the ability to have a good night's rest long ago.
As she climbed the stairs to the Palais Mermonia, Clorinde wondered about the Hydro Archon that everyone always seemed to talk about. She had seen her but once in person, from a distance at one of her public appearances. Lady Furina's face was framed by the most perfect smile, as if it was painted on.
It was undeniably… fake. Perhaps this was normal for a stage actress. Yet considering the way the Captain had been acting, Clorinde couldn't imagine that what lay underneath the facade was any more beautiful.
Clorinde was pleasantly wrong.
After checking in at the front desk, the receptionist had kindly given her the keys to Lady Furina's office. It was of little use when Clorinde saw the light spilling from a door undoubtedly open and unlocked. She resisted the urge to raise a hand to her head. No matter how powerful the Archon may be, it was sheer negligence to relax security as such.
Everything would have to change from now on. A small fire blazed in Clorinde's chest, only to falter and immediately peter out when she swept through the door and laid eyes on the Archon.
Lady Furina leisurely rested a pale leg on the tea table, stuffing her mouth full of cake by the forkful. How could one obtain such a large fork, was Clorinde's first thought. Her second was to question how one could fit so much cake in a single mouth without swallowing. She didn't have time for a third before the Archon's eyes met with hers, widened, and froze.
Clorinde had the vague feeling of intruding on a noble hamster's private mealtime. It was just so very adorable and so very…human of her that Clorinde failed to react.
Furina, still with a dab of whipped cream about her mouth, began to bluster. "This isn't what you think!" she insisted. "I was merely partaking of an offering from a fan! Because it would be incredibly rude not to. Not that I asked for a cake specifically, after all how undignified would that be?" Before Clorinde could respond, she continued, "But since they gave it to me, how could I not? Neuvilette can't appreciate it, and I can't exactly offer it to anyone else. So I took it upon myself to accomplish this—er—noble duty. Yes. That's what this is."
It was at this point that Lady Furina paused long enough to take a breath of air. One that was especially necessary. It also gave Clorinde a chance to finally interrupt. "Be at ease, my lady," she said. The words came gentler than they should have. As a guard, it was poor form to let any of your actions be dictated by emotion. A guard had to be rational at all times in order to react fast enough to unseen danger.
So Clorinde crushed the bud of tenderness that had inadvertently sprouted before it could bloom. "I'll be outside if you need anything. You need only to call for me." As quietly as she had entered ,she turned to leave. Before she could shut the door—securely this time—Lady Furina stopped her.
"Wait!" she called, sounding a bit panicked. Clorinde only realized she had flung the door open again when it slammed against the wall. "Is there anything amiss, my lady?" The archon shook her head.
"No. I merely thought of a suitable punishment for your, ah, discourtesy earlier." Furina's smile was bright, so bright it lit up the dim room. So bright it almost hurt to behold. "You must assist me in finishing this cake!"
When the archon herself erased the boundary between guard and client, what was the appropriate course of action? Clorinde knew not of any such grand principles. She was a creature of instinct. This was a fact, as unchangeable as the moonlight that shone down on Fontaine's people every night. The very same illuminating their Archon's pale hair.
Nor could she stop the instinct of all such creatures that made their living in the shadows: to seek the sun.