158 Cover your mouth

"Do Re Mi Fa Sol La Ti ….DO!!!"

Wonderful. Now do it again. Again I say!

Welcome to music class. I shall be your blessed instructor for the time. Yes I, the fake child genius Rosalia Therese Ventrella. How blessedly lucky you are that I take time out of my life to spare you a few thoughts and pointers.

Right?

My sister blows a raspberry at me. All while Lukas squaks like a certain giant bird, keeping that forced note.

Right, wrong crowd to appreciate me.

"Okay, how about instead of again... we stop, breathe, and do everything RIGHT this time instead?" I make to clamp Lukas' mouth shut.

Jaw up to head. Lips closed. So close to the sweet music of silence, if he wasn't vibrating in a new humming noise nose that is.

Maybe I shouldn't go into teaching after all.

It's only us in this after practice in the lonely courtyard. Since sadly the real children don't take that well to me. Even after the delicious sweets and play sessions. I believe I scare them.

Not in the "oh no it's a monster" kind of way but more the "oh my it's the rumored scary princess" kind. My parents are their parents' big bad boss after all. One wrong move could certainly change life for them as they know it.

Lilyanne is openly friendly enough for them to forget about that for a bit. But neither is she easy to approach either.

Especially with me, looming right behind her. Somewhere you may not see but with full imposing knowledge I am there. Or maybe that's the secret guards? Hmmm, both are good answers.

Anyways, making friends with the local children isn't as easy as it may seem. It's very hard to make friends our age. Partially because we're too small to interact with society and partially because of our positions in life.

In my personal stance, it would be better to be left alone than with a draining weight.

Leeches. Mongrels. All sorts of scammers who play the victim cards.

Even if that's a story for another day, I'm always on the lookout. Vigilant about those around my sister. She is after all, just too desperate for love and affection. I wouldn't want her to fall for such easy schemes, again.

Disgusting.

I would be more worried. But we went through a rather similar first childhood.

It's hard to really 'play' outside of class differences, the older we get the further that divide grows. Where would we even get the chance and time anyways?

The Ventrella villa employee housing and annex building have gotten major upgrades and a facelift, but it's still mostly not suitable for raising a large family. Nor would the dorm managers normally allow it.

It's too messy.

By now, some of our house employees have given birth to babies younger than I. Cute and all. But it's not like people bring their kids, especially the small ones, to work with them. If they haven't retired or are on leave to care for them, then most of the time those little ones are being raised by grandparents or other relatives back in a suitable home.

Sometimes, it can't be helped. Bring your kid to work day policies are pretty relaxed here, so long as they don't get in the way or impose.

The ones I would watch out for are either too young to bother or not in the picture yet.

Besides, I do have a life to live. It's much larger than finding every single soul for petty revenge. There's too many?

I just won't say no if the opportunity presents itself. Oh ho ho!

Somehow my laugh comes out very oddly, with a sudden sharp pain. My little jaw being held shut by Lukas. His hands clamp down on the top of my head and the bottom of my chin.

"That should do it!" Lukas looks quite proud of himself.

How rude?! Though fair. Monkey see monkey do.

"Mmmmmpf!!!"

Those are the only sounds I can make like this. The older boy's hold is much stronger than I can fight. More natural with his superior strength and height. I better get a good future tank of a minion from this.

From somewhere to the side, a soft giggle chimes through the air.

It sounds out light and childishly cheerful, like a summer breeze through colorful hanging wind chimes. Standing starkly out of place all the more in this desolate courtyard. A sweet, almost hypnotizing echo.

"Amar!" Lukas calls out.

The older boy looks back and forth, torn between running over his friend like an accident waiting to happen, and keeping a tight hold on my head. Or more specifically my little mouth that he's holding shut.

Lukas gives an experimental lift of if he can carry me from my head alone. Which he certainly can not! ...Right?

My shouts and stifled head shakes of no goes unheard and unseen. In a split second, Lukas has made his decision.

I go flying through the air at Lukas' inhuman speed. No time, or space, to scream. A limp flag fluttering to Lukas' force.

Luckily, Amar is very nearby. The other child catches us with not exactly ease, but in a very well-practiced manner of dealing with this breed of chaos. His little face nuzzles back with Lukas' back and forth, cuddling distractingly, while his hands cup to block my head from further injury. He pries me down, eventually supporting my weight precariously. But still far safer than what pose Lukas had me in.

My feet still don't touch the ground though. Curses this short height of mine.

"Lily too!" My sister runs over, unwilling to be left out of anything. Even a dog pile.

Oh, the squish. That's enough, that's more than enough!

Kids are crazy. For unknown reasons but chance, it's not like we ever get a break from each other for very long. Only a few hours since the last time! But these kids act as if they've been cruelly separated by a journey of time and space.

Too much huggies. Stop getting me involved in this. Oooompf.

"Alright alright, we have better things to do. Ack." I try and fail to crawl away.

Amar has sneaky hands that tug and pull while the sheer force and weight of Lukas are too much. My little sister ramming in to support them doesn't help either. All around me is heat and vibrating little kids. A hive of children trying to kill me with hugs. It's oddly effective.

Only an eternity later, when they are finally satisfied, do they release each other from this "group hug" hell.

Oh sweet cool air of personal breathing space, I shall not forsake you again.

"Attention!" I order.

Their obedience and training vary. It goes from Lilyanne, my constant and eternal headache, who lines up first. Position and salute ready. So much cuter when she's well-behaved.

Then Lukas, who gets half the order right. At least, he kicks and marches over to the general direction, lining up beside Lily. Or "in front! Because I'm awesome!" As he so claims.

Last is Amar. Still sitting on the floor like a mess. Not knowing any orders at all.

He looks at me stupidly, tilting his head in questioning until he rights it back up with a clap. A light bulb of an idea with that derpy bright smile.

"Hi Rosalia, do you want your own?" He opens his arms, cutely ready to catch me in a hug much like a wild Lukas.

I reach to tug his ear down. Then drag him to the line.

"Ow ow ow Rosa ow." he winces till we get him in place.

Raising minions from scratch is just so difficult.

"Now that the special make up class is here, we can proceed. Amar, you missed warm-ups. The rest of you… uh.. well, let's try again. "

I take a deep breath, instructing. Starting the first round of today's full practice.

And it's a mess. All a mess.

Individually, there's nothing wrong with each child's voice, as far as I can tell. However...

Lukas is too loud, he's all I can hear. Amar is so quiet, he might as well not even be here. Lilyanne is such a diva?!

"Lalala luuuuu~!" She sings offbeat, enjoying the imaginary and non-existent spotlight.

My sister is a star alright. One who beats to no one's tune but her own. When Lukas starts, she won't back off. In parts where you harmonize, she can't sit down. I see now the reason why she's more often than not the soloist.

I give up with my face into my hands, not in tears mind you, when Lily and Lukas get into an opera screaming match.

There will be no winner I fear.

Meanwhile, Amar continues to enjoy himself immensely, giggling and cheering on the other two. Encouraging the chaos. What a way to get out of his own practice.

With that, I decided it's time for some more personal lessons.

"Sing it out, you two. Remember to drink water. Don't overdo it or you'll have scratchy chicken voices. Drink." I knock them both in the heads with a water skin before tugging another minion up. "Come on Amar, solo practice time."

I make him follow me one bush away, still in screaming range for the others to not be distractions but not feel lonely either. Otherwise, they'll cling to our ankles once they're done deciding whose best.

"How are you feeling?!" I take a hold off his face, coaching mode on.

"Fine?" His squished-up cheeks can't help but make a fishie face.

"No. No, you're not. I still feel from you... a lack of confidence!" I exclaim, pulling and patting.

Soft cheeks mold to random shapes, his little lips going from Os to Ws. None song worthy enough.

"How can I mold and teach you, if I can't even hear you? Sing I say! Sing!"

Unfortunately, the only song he knows under this kind of pressure is "ow".

Due to not being very cute in this position, I released his face and let him right himself up. Amar pats his face back into shape, though the confused look on it says he wonders if he even has one left.

"Ok. I am sorry for yelling...and attacking. But in order to get anywhere, we must try." I say gently, switching modes.

"I did?" He massages his own face, rubbing little circles on his pink cheeks.

"Well, we do it again and again. And it will be better after each try."

"Ok? What are we trying now?" he softly asks.

"Repeat after me! And this time I better hear you." I lead.

We start with sounds rather than a whole song. A mini war cry with each note. I lead the child along, teaching him a basic scale and working on his foundations. Again, it's not like anyone has a particularly bad voice. Tone deafness, especially at this age, is in many cases curable or at least counteract able.

I don't think anyone taught him in the first place anyways.

"If you mumble over a good note again, I'm going to stick my fingers in your mouth to hold it open." I wiggle my weapons in front of his face in warning.

His half-shy song turns to giggles, and we fail regardless. But what I do get out are sounds not half bad.

It's not as outrightly bold and cuteness attention-grabbing like the two crying hungry birds over there. But something about it tugs.

If Lukas sounds like the blare of a trumpet, then my sister clangs around like a clumsy play of my Father's harpsichord. In that child's play orchestra, Amar is a charming jingle of a little bell. Easy to drown out, nothing much. But when it is heard, it adds so much ambiance to a song.

Not bad at all for such short crammed practices.

Besides, the most important thing isn't sounding good. It's not being so terrible I'll scratch my ears out.

Just kidding.

For kids, it's about having fun. And if these silly giggles and random interruptions from everyone brings forth this many smiles, then it's all alright.

Or it should be.

We're interrupted from this peaceful afternoon by a scream of my name.

"My y-young miss, young miss Rosalia! Y-you must, t-th-there is no t-time! At t-t-th-the kitchens. Emergency!" Abbey runs into the courtyard, panting.

When she nearly trips over her own laces, Lukas somehow headbutts her knees and legs right back up at his natural height. Amazing save.

I'm not sure what it says about the denseness of his skull though.

"What's going on?" I shake off the thought, turning to address Abbey.

What's gotten my little maid so panicked in the first place? If it really was an emergency, then the guards would have us evacuated faster than we could get a word out. So it can only be….a personal emergency?

Oh ho ho. Something juicy?

"She's making that noise again!" Lukas steps closer, hand threatening to clamp down my innocent head.... again.

"Am not, step away." I warn, pointing.

Raising this level of minions from scratch really is just too difficult. But I can't give up even if I wanted to. I think this snowball has somehow not only been adopted but himself has a super gum glue effect on my household. I can only go through with it.

Amar and Lilyanne look on, waiting for the desperate message of my little maid.

"P-please my y-young miss. We must hurry." Abbey pants, catching her breath.

"Oh right. Explain it to me as we walk. Come on, let's go see what's going on." I snap and gesture, indicating for the rest to follow me along.

Abbey seems so rushed but I still insist on properly walking. The only other option is being carried, which is crossed out shamefully at this point. I'm getting bigger and bigger. Already 4 years old. I cannot be babied so much. Besides, I don't know if my weight is something easily carryable anymore. My maid isn't exactly as strong as a trooper, even minion-sized.

"It-it's -it's"

Not that it matters, Abbey can hardly get a word out in her panic. We can only hurry it up.

Luckily, we were practicing in one of my home courtyards and not anywhere further. The scattered run to the maid kitchens is an easy and practiced route. The side ones are not much more difficult either.

"T-th-his way" Abbey manages to lead, a bit tearfully given up on speaking.

She must be very frustrated with her own stutter, but that's an issue for another day. Even without her directions, a commotion up ahead makes it easy to know where to head. Various employees seem to crouch, climb, and overall gather in a very crowded game of hide and seek.

These bushes and columns aren't enough to hide even half the peeking people here.

When we step up, my sister can't help but want to join in on the fun. She picks up a leaf from the ground and holds it over her own face with a giggle. Her bad disguise fits in perfectly.

At any other time, it would bring back cringey memories of all of her previous self's bad disguise. But something else is worth my attention at the moment.

I shush her, along with Lukas, before they can make any further noise. Then we silently crouch our way to the good viewing seats of an unoccupied bush. Our short height makes it very convenient to get to the front. Even if we have to crawl on some parts.

Still, amazing seats to this never-before-seen unexpected drama. At least for this short lifetime of mine.

"So….you must know why I called you out so far, alone, here." a girl wiggled, dressed not in her usual laundry maid uniform, but something much prettier for the festival.

Her dress was pinched in with a clean apron, revealing a tiny huggable waist, with still growing curves that many pairs of eyes could appreciate. Clean skin, with a slight scattering of freckles over her nose and shoulders. The hem of her underdress peeked, as if unintentional but any woman would know otherwise. She shook cutely, fragily, blinking up with the eyes of a blushing maiden.

"Uh….no, not really. " my young and dumb Jr. assistant responded, looking around the clearing in a confused manner.

Damn it Georgie! You're being called out and confessed to?!!!!

Instead of responding properly to that maiden over there, he blinks down directly at me. His face grimaced as if saying "when did you get there? Why is everyone here?".

How did he see and single me out so quickly though?

This time, both Amar and Lukas reached out on either side of me to hold my jaw shut. Their combined efforts make it very secure and impossible to make anything more than an internal screeching sound. A warm little hand placed over my mouth to be sure.

For extra hiding effect, my sister places a few dead leaves over my head.

Thank you all for these unnecessary things.

"Shhhhhh" they all shush me up close.

Even Lily. How humiliating.

But I am not the one in the shameful spotlight. Far from it.

In the center of this courtyard, Georgie stands as confuddled as a blunt soup spoon. He scratches his head from a fallen dead leaf, brushing it off. The innocent boy in this doki doki moment. A moment about to be wasted.

"I'm not sure what's going on but can we hurry it up? This many people can't be out off duty. It's only going to get ridiculously busy later to make up." Georgie requests, reasonable but unromantic.

Maybe it's a good thing I can't speak, because I'm about to scream.

My assistant is in the springtime of his life! A teenaged boy about to receive the bold affections of a young maiden. How exciting. Normally.

If only Georgie wasn't so clearly dense and disinterested.

"Ahh, I wanted to thank you for yesterday. For saving me from that…" she looks down on purpose, blinking those eyelashes widely.

"Oh that! No problem! I don't know how much of it was saving or just pouring a ladle's worth of hot soup on that thief. Don't feel bad, it could have happened to anyone." Georgie laughs and waves off, looking bashful in his good deed.

"Anyways, it's not just that…..I always wanted to say, how much I've noticed you lately~ "

Her supposed shyness pushed her arms together, heaving a better view of a dazzling collar. White flesh from a young maiden, sweet and tender like fresh milk buns.

A full-on seduction attack!

It is not very effective. Georgie checks his pocket watch then looks back up at the sky, confirming the time. More worried about schedules than anything else.

"Uh, thanks. Good work to you too! The festival really has us juggling a lot of work, huh? Really, it's no problem. We have to stick out for each other." he misses the point, so many points entirely.

What a poor confession.

The reactions around us are hilarious. Sighs. Popcorn snacks being thrown. Someone falls from a tree branch. The boys still don't seem to trust me enough to let go but this is fine, the show in front of us is still more than entertaining enough.

"Well, wouldn't you like to be more than just co-working together? Would you like that, being 'together'?~" she fights on.

More than one person gasps. I think Abbey has turned to stone and fainted while sitting up. It's even more crowded now than it was earlier. The noise and excitement only rise.

Such a confession? Oh, the boldness! A normal hormonal young man would never be able to resist.

"Did you want to work another shift together? Yeah that's fine." Georgie smiles dumbly.

Nevermind.

There's something clearly not typical about this one either. Let's just stick with soup, soap, and gossip. Georgie is for making milk tea and organizing my onesies, not teen love. It's obviously just not for him.

It's fine if he doesn't have feelings for this girl. I don't think he even knows her all that well? At least, I've never seen any hints or such. But this denseness of his is really something else.

"Haa Haa, no. No not like that~" She recovers quite well, even if the shock has clearly damaged her internally. Bravely charging forward. "I've noticed you more and more over the past year. Then with how you so handsomely saved me yesterday….I thought how nice it would be if you were my beau. So? How about it? Would you like to be sweethearts?"

This kind of tenacity? How can the audience not be moved?! With baited breaths, we watch the reaction. The fallout.

"I'm sorry. Thank you but I'm sorry. I can't respond to your feelings properly." Georgie says clearly, standing straight.

Ah. As expected.

"...Is that so? Is there perhaps someone else?" the girl leads up, playing coy.

"No. Nothing like that. You're very pretty and charming and I'm beyond flattered, but this is my first time facing anyone's feelings like this, and I don't know how to feel. Or what to make of it? So I can't answer you properly. This is the only sincere answer I can make." his body language is apologetic but his words were solid.

There was no going around or misconstruing it. A clear but candid confession, an equally clear rejection.

An awkward air hangs around. This can't be easy for anyone involved. But at the same time, I feel so proud of my little assistant. Not even just for a teenaged boy with his first confession, but just in general. This is the kind of person he is.

I could give an applause.

But this is not a movie or a theater show, even if the crowds badly hiding in the surroundings make it sort of feel like one.

There is no clear exit to something like this.

The confessing maid looks down to the ground. Slightly shaking in the cold, looking delicate and pitiful even though she could have just worn some more clothes in the first place. But it works in raising the guilt Georgie must be feeling while stirring up the hearts of the many employees watching around us.

"Err uh there's no need to feel bad. It's me, not you. Definitely no need to cry?! Clara?"

"Shut up and listen up lotion boy."

Suddenly the necktie around Georgie tightens, a surprisingly strong grip coming from the young maid. That pitiful appearance has suddenly made a 180 degree turn and is no nowhere to be seen.

"I'm your first confession? And you passed it up like that? Pfffft! Lame. I can do better than you but hey at the rate you're going, you'll definitely do better than me one day. Anyways, you made an innocent maiden like me humiliate herself first, in front of everyone we work with basically. So I'll be needing some payback on your part. Least you can do. I need a perfect arm candy date to rub in some people's faces for tonight and you're gonna play that part. Understand?" threatens the laundry maid turned gangster.

What a twist!? One that even I did not see coming. The audience is eating it up.

"Uhhhh, what? " Georgie blinks dumbly, caught off guard.

It takes a minute or so for his brain functions to reboot. It takes all of us some time to catch up.

"S-s-s-she c-can do t-t-t-hat?" Abbey stutters from behind, dizzy with shock.

"Shhhhhhhhh!" parts of the audience hushes.

Lilyanne takes that as her cue to offer Abbey a leaf of bad disguise, crawling into her lap and stuffing it to her face. But it silences everyone enough to keep watching the scene.

"I, uh- I'm sorry, are you asking for a date tonight? A fake date?" Georgie sounds as confused as anyone in this situation would be.

"Catching on. Dress up in your fancy clothes and escort me on the final night. We're going to be the cutest promising new couple at the end of the festival. And by that I mean rub it in HARD to my visiting ...relations. Make them EAT my dirty laundry."

"You could have just asked!?!" Georgie screams in common sense.

"Great. See you next shift. Pick me up by 5pm. Bring something pretty for me." she pats his shoulder before walking away.

She goes for confidence, but a girl can tell. It's a little lonely….and way too fast.

"You literally could have just asked?! Don't walk away! Clara?....What color dress are we going with?! Are we coordinating?! We should theme and match!.... I can't help you if you don't talk to me. How will we coordinate our outfits together!?" Georgie chases after her, his guilt gone and back to his usual excitable self.

Whatever is the truth of the situation, or that girl's real feelings, my Georgie is such a dense and silly boy. A kind and silly one.

The girl got rejected but gets one very borderline pity date. Wrap it up. Show's over.

At least Georgie doesn't have to worry about getting a date that night. I suppose that's a thing quite a few ahem young people worry about.

It's a very exciting time even through the busy work.

For the employees, moments like this are the fun and passing showcases. Perhaps even more so than the shows of the festival? Ha, just kidding.

People do have to get to work though, so things clear up relatively soon. It's then with the grounds cleared that I notice two extra employees of mine.

"Uh….it's...it's not that bad." Tamera comforts, yet not doing anything to stop Vincent from trying to dig a hole through the grass with his nails.

"Don't...don't mind me. ...Just...going to die now." the necromancer shivers.

"Nothing happened! Absolutely nothing! You weren't even involved in any way!" she pokes at his weak form, causing him to fall over on all fours.

"But….but….I feeeeeeeelt that, owwwwww." he cries, limp in the grass.

Second-hand embarrassment is quite bad I admit. But even I wouldn't take it as hard as Vincent seems to. But then again, he does have the sensibilities of a real delicate lady. How has he survived till now?

"Are you ok?" Amar tilts his head at the teenager trying to bury himself.

"No. No. I'm -.... WHAT ARE YOU KIDS DOING HERE?!" the dark-haired teen jumps half-up, screaming.

"Watching the show," I answer now that I'm free from the silencing clutches of the minions.

"And what an exciting show it was! Wasn't it ladies?! How much cute fun you have set up outside your very gardens. Our own servants are never so bold." my aunt Pipa cheerily applauds.

Now it's my turn to scream, turning around.

What are Mother and my aunts doing here!? With a table set for tea no less!? Where did this VIP viewing table come from? Are those opera binoculars?

Too many people with too much free time. This world lacks entertainment that badly.

"A precious show indeed. Ah, youth. My has spring come early! Ohoho ho! " Mother laughs and sighs dreamily.

"Mama!" Lily runs up to our Mother, presenting her with a bouquet of fallen dead leaves.

"Did you enjoy the show, my baby girl." she happily accepts the ugly bouquet, booping Lilyanne's little nose.

"Uh huh! Rosa likes it more! Big bruders and Lily keeps her go sush sush shhhhhh." my sister explains without needing to mention that much.

But on and on she goes.

Meanwhile, I have just realized that my little maid Abbey is still petrified, unmoving from her spot. My eldest babysitter looks back and forth between Abbey and Vincent, as if deciding who has it worse in their overdone reactions. In the end, she chooses to help and comfort Abbey.

Sorry, Vincent. Somehow, I think Tamera is a little too used to his strange moping sessions.

Youth and crushes are hard. Fighting everyone.

"How adorable. Girls appreciate such things so ardently even at a young age. Not like my boy Cosimo." aunt Isabel holds her cheek, sighing.

"Oh but boys have their own undeniably cute charms." Mother sighs back, even with Lilyanne crawling into her lap.

That should be the cue for the minions to run, take cover and hide. But Mother's eyes flash over to them quickly, hungrily even I may add. Her eyes sharply stare at the boys, then down to aunt Isabel's bulging stomach, back to the boys and I, then down to her own flat tummy. Repeat.

Finally, she just slams her face down into Lilyanne's hair, crying from the depression of it all.

Sorry for not being born a cute little boy, Mother. You'll just have to put up with my twin sister and I. Try again in another time and life.

"Should we run now?" Amar has slowly inched behind me, though I am much too small for anyone here to hide behind.

I look around the emptying courtyard of servants chatting as they head back to their duties. Back up to Tamera, who is trying to balance a crying Vincent in the dirt with a dead frozen Abbey. Her attempts hardly help but it looks like she's got it handled. Then finally to the countdown of my grieving mother, looking a few seconds too close to finally laying attention on us again.

"Go." I whisper to him, panic rising as my paternal aunt smiles suspiciously down at us.

"Is there bacon at this table?" Lukas stupidly leaves us for danger and snacks.

At least, we don't have to fight over who plays the distraction, even though Lily seems to be doing a fine job of being squeezed to pieces. Oh well, the more the merrier for mother. The more time for us survivors to run.

"Now!" I urge.

"Oh my….how cute.~"

I can hear aunt Pipa croon as the minion and I make the great escape. A shiver runs down my neck and spine from behind. But there's no time to look back to check anything.

We must hurry! Before Mother recovers and gets us. Then who knows what our fate will be?

Will we even be alive and well enough to make it till the end of the festival? Or will we just end up as cute smashed-up pancakes? Let's not stick around to find out.

Over the wall I say, just throw me over. Do it! Don't hesitate, or we die. Do it! Ahhhh!!!

"Rosalia? Where did you go?" I can hear the last call from Mother.

Then over the wall, it is. Drop and roll! Go go go!

"That was a very dramatic escape for you brats?" Tamera watches us from her spot.

She makes it look easy to carry two people off at once. Vincent thrown over one of her shoulders, still crying internally, while Abbey sits still in shock in her other arm. As if they were both hollow, empty of physical weight and their spirits.

If anyone is being dramatic, I would say it's them.

"You wouldn't understand what it's like when you're small and cute in front of my mother. But escape we did and escape we still must. Come on. It's not safe yet." I order them to follow, Amar nodding along to my words.

"Awwww, you're so cute scurrying off in fear of your lives." Tamera squeals at us, but follows along nonetheless. Carrying the two made useless other servants of mine with her.

"I am not." I grumble, but can't really refute her.

My stubby legs and pumpkin pants were definitely pathetically flashed when crawling over that wall. Even with Amar's help. Ah pumpkin pants, how many eyes have you flashed? Too many.

"Haha don't pout, hey if it's really so bad then is it ok to leave Lukas behind? " Tamera points back using the Vincent's limp body.

"Yes." Amar responds to her question.

"Sacrifice." I follow up explaining.

"Best sacrifice. He's the strongest." Amar agrees vehemently.

"It's an honor to protect me. We shall never forget him, even as a pancake."

"Gable will save him later?"

"Right, no worries even if he dies as a flattened pancake. He's too lucky, Gable will definitely come to the rescue. It's the least he can do."

"But not us. So gotta run." Amar concludes smartly.

Tamera clearly doesn't understand half of that but she plays along with a laugh, and a slight readjustment of the dead weights in her arms. What a strong young lady she is. Though her comforting touch could use some work.

"Rather than Lukas, are those two going to be ok?" I wonder, looking at the two who have lost half their souls at today's show.

"Vinny will be fine! Maybe after a good cry and a few more daydreams of 3 second crushes on other people….but he'll be fiiiiiine." she pats the skinny butt thrown over her shoulders.

"...I ….will never….." I can hear him half choke out back there.

"Don't know about Abbey though. There there, I got you, girl. You too can be aggressive towards pre- I mean boys!" Tamera changes focus, almost baby bouncing the young tween in her arms.

That gets a small reaction out of my little maid finally, though it's just an "EEP!" and a radiating pink blush.

Oh young people, teenagers especially. So weird, even if they are a little cute in their own way.

If I didn't remember it wrong, that person was also especially cute at that age...Then he graduated puberty and got annoyingly uncute. Idiot. Always acting like a baby despite his age. Even more idiotic was how I always fell for it too. Ah, cuteness is a great weapon indeed.

But this is not the time and place for such thoughts. I can be sad about that at a later time.

I have turned four years old in this cursed life as a rich girl beyond belief. There is one more year left to be carefree and enjoy myself. Another year of little to no worries. A festival of all things to hit it off.

So I should just focus on having fun while I can. The work is going to be ridiculously busy later after all. Just like my Georgie said, even if that wasn't what he meant.

Which leads me back to bad thoughts of how much work I would have missed out on during this bad 4 year vacation? Seriously, how much work would have piled up on my emails and desk? How much nagging screaming would my old manager have ready to load up on me?

There I go again. Thoughts that shouldn't be thought.

As far as I know, there's no way back, only forward. As far as I've made it in my short life thus far….would I even be brave enough to go back? How much have I missed out on? How much has moved on without me? Everyone, including that uncute man, how much…

See this is the kind of stuff that arises when I think about things that I shouldn't.

So I won't. I'll keep avoiding memories that I don't need. There's plenty of time to suffer later and only so much time to be the pampered child that is Rosalia Therese Ventrella. A very good time to be me right now.

"Did you wanna go follow Georgie?" Amar pops in, questioning.

It's followed by the immediate squeaking dying sounds of Vincent and Abigail. Still so interesting and amusing.

"Eh? Can we? Where did he even go?" I am eager on following the after-show.

"He should have gone to the tailoring rooms right? Where you keep the sailor suits? He said stuff about clothes?" Amar tilts his head in the general direction.

"I don't know where those tailoring rooms are around here but the birds say he and that date of his went that way." Tamera agrees, pointing with an increasing flock of crows.

Very amusing indeed.

And so we follow the trail and burst in, much to the shy complaints of the prisoners in Tamera's arms.

Only to find Georgie is unaffected by everything. Other than breaking into my tailoring rooms, though is it really breaking in when he has a master key?

That and forcing the young laundry maid through various outfits. Rather than a date or a male suitor, he cheers for her to undress and redress like a savage fashion coordinator. Any woman would be heartbroken at his reaction. Especially if they sincerely just confessed to said sassy coordinator.

"Not that, that bold color makes you look diseased, and that one makes you look unfairly fat! And, hey guys what are you doing here? Oh, Rosalia! Let me introduce you and you can get to helping me pair this!-" Georgie chatters away, denser than I have ever imagined.

A bittersweet ending for a young maiden's confession. Comes with makeovers.

Time passes quickly like that. Not just sweat dropping at Georgie's denseness or watching everyone's amusing reactions to it. Though the shame of second-hand embarrassment really is bad.

Time just passes quickly when you have fun.

So before I knew it, whether it was out on the fields or tiredly napping at home, the end of the festival came so quickly.

There's a lot I could say about the last days?

The last parade? How well my skincare and lottery system was received? How many couples hooked up by the last day, fake or now? There's a lot!

From the crazy animals that Grampa let in for a real petting zoo to the rides that broke down in a flash but somehow not hurting anyone. Father, who spent too much time depressingly staring at messenger birds, perhaps in a plea to send his own Bicchieri relations away as soon as possible. Though he did cheer up a bit at crowning ribbons on a contest for prized winter vegetables, especially at the winner for largest cabbage. Then there's Mother, who oddly seemed more pleased to play house and host than she is with anything in the festival.

So many things. Including but not limited to what a strange family this is indeed?

There's a last dance or something sort of event that takes far too long after dinner. Not that I care to participate in even if I could. But it was slightly gross and adorable watching from up above in my spot.

At most, I looked for the twirl of Georgie's outfit.

But I can also spy a few more familiar faces. Yuna's blond head on one sideline, apparently caught in some bread-eating competition. A few patrolling guards, one of them with a tall flash of braids. Cass makes a round before being waved down by Tamera seated on the other side of the large dance floors. In front of her looming figure was actually Vincent and Abbey seated together, though they looked to be staring at one target, moping and biting their handkerchiefs.

Oh, how misery loves company.

It's not all bad or just babysitters.

So many people scattered about. In the sides, the tables and of course the center dance floor. My kitchen maid Barbara and the nerdy accountant that is her husband, Nicola, spin well in each other's arms. Which reminds me how their first anniversary was coming up.

How time flies.

I watch it all while clinging to my 'dear big sissy brother' investment. Asking if we may perhaps "dance like the wind" someday. I even turn up the cuteness by 5% to appeal to those non-existent big brother senses he may have hidden deep down.

Aren't I just adorable? Yes, fall for me now while I am young, defenseless, and cute.

While that pleased the womenfolk with cuteness, I don't think Father or Cosimo liked it very much.

Especially Cosimo with how he grimaces away like a dying hooked fish. But work with me here child. Like me so much you remember to give me those stocks later. In fact, give me more stocks.

"Homewrecker." Lilyanne says perfectly, eyes beady and glaring.

That is not how I expected it to go with Lilyanne either, but she and this lifetime have already surprised me enough.

"Aww but we can share big swissy brother!" I play dumb.

So dumb that Father looks like he's about to be sick. He will just have to suck it up. I need those future bank stock options! Ahem I mean, to raise affection levels and connections with our dear underappreciated relations.

Those plots are cut short though, as Father plops both my sister and I away and into his arms. Perhaps to Cosimo's relief.

Shame.

"Yaaaay papa! Save us from homewreckers!" Lily cheers.

"How shameful of you to interfere in the matters of children." I refute, judging him.

"Dancey dance! " Lily hops up and down, swaying in beat to the music, begging sweetly.

"Absolutely not." I resist her tugging.

It all fails for naught though, when Father indulges his favorite daughter in spinning the both of us like little tops. Round and round we go, the oddest dance to rotate this night. During some points, he even lifts us from the floor! How awful.

At the very least, we must look very cute spinning up here. It looks like we're adorably play dancing with Father. Even if it is annoyingly dizzying. A bold PR move, Father, touche.

Finally, Father stops the dance in time with the graceful music, carrying up both off and into Mother's laughing presence. At that moment, Grampa excused himself to 'go set off the pretties', which I fear can only mean more terror. But I have little energy to care after that shameful spin around.

"Oh, it's starting!" Mother claps at darkening lights.

All around us the festival lights dim. Major bonfires and magic lamps growing lower and lower.

A flash.

A single flare spirals up in the air, perhaps with the hint of a whooping voice that sounds oddly like my Grampa. Whatever he did, it sounds like a success, even if nothing seems to happen. The crowd already awaits silently.

Like a rock thrown into the stillness of a pond, lights ripple out. Slowly but surely, multiplying into parts more and more frequently. The strangest set of fireworks I have ever seen. They fly through their air not with force but with a dazzling sense of calm and beauty. Like the pluck of a string, resounding.

It flows so naturally then, the sound of music.

Which means we already missed our cue. Our cue!

"Lily! Come on and hurry if you want your solo." I clamor out of my seat.

Gotta go, gotta go.

Maybe if we get a guard to speedrun us around the back then we can make it? It's only Lilyanne singing, and at the very end, more than fashionably late, but I should at least support. Ah, how did we miss our earlier cue? Too much going on, not enough good planning.

Alas, Mother holds us back in our seats.

"Lily wants it all!" my sister wiggles, trying to reach me in our failed escape.

This is what happens when we miss our cue.

"Don't worry darlings. I wouldn't want to miss the cute show you worked so hard on either. Just wait for it. Oh and your hair, when did you two get so messy?" Mother giggles before starting to fuss.

There's no fighting her grasps when she does get her hands on us. So it's better to sit still and behave, even if it means a lot of poking and ribbon retying. For that, I would blame Father, for getting us 'messy' in the first place with all that spinning.

With the music rising, so do the lights of a previously dark stage. The center dance floor now nothing but a standing ground for this.

You hear it before you see it. Most likely still too distracted by the rippling lights blooming in beautiful blues and whites across the sky. Some of it reflecting on the still-standing ice structures, making everything seem all that more mystical.

A heavenly choir flows, light and easy, rising with the curtain of light. The harmonic voices of children, so very many of them.

Looking down that slowly lighting stage sways little frocks and smocks of dotted blues. A common yet lovely dye, the dress uniform of the choir for tonight. Even Mr. Orfeo, standing to conduct, is dressed handsomely in that passing blue shade. Either from crammed good training or just the natural want to do well, the many gathered children sing in perfect tune. One large instrument coming together into a singular voice. I can't even make out any troublemakers in the choir, though I know they're down there.

The crowds are beyond delighted. The parents especially so. Their excitement seems to impossibly rise further, not for the magical sights, but by spotting their child on stage. Perhaps waving and cheering in that embarrassing way parents do.

A song goes by easily, flowing on to the next and the next, the crowd's excitement not dying down at all. The mood goes up with each, but far from the crescendo.

Then it happens. A light. More specifically a spotlight.

Lilyanne gasps, then squeals in glee as it lands on us. Her legs can't be kept back from jumping while she waves under the sparkly light. It's a very strange spotlight, one I would attest to be partially magic in nature. With how it glitters and flows.

"Happy Birthday my girls. Go on." Mother presents us with our new 'cue'.

How extra. But not in bad taste, not bad at all Mother.

"Oooooh! Hurry, Rosa." my little sister grasps, taking my hand.

With all these eyes watching, and the pull of her excitement, I don't have much of a choice.

I wonder if everyone sees what I see. Energetically annoying, babyish and spoiled to a fault, and still so very cute. A little angel dressed in white, her skirts fluttering as she runs and laughs under an almost divine light. I stand under the haze of it myself, following her, and her joy is all I can see right now.

Ah. Time really does fly. That ugly baby has gotten so big already.

She tugs and runs, pulling me along while the spotlight helplessly follows after rather than guiding like it's supposed to. But a straight path it does clear, as if made specially for her. As if saying, 'eat your hearts out world, cutest little girl in the world coming through'. Maybe it does.

The run wasn't a long or hard one. We soon make it to the stage. Guards and troopers ready to lift up the star of the night. The tiny birthday girl, and her hard practiced solo song.

A pair of guards offer to help me up as well, but I shake my head in refusal.

The spotlight isn't meant for me but my sister. The songs are mine but not really, stolen from another time and world. A lot of eyes and a lot of lips that I don't want to be directed on.

I just want a good spot to watch it all from. Good and safe. Just like how I want to live this life.

With Lilyanne's appearance on stage, there are some unavoidable mess-ups, gasps, hitched voices, and even a very Lukas level loud screech.

I turn over to where that particular sound comes from and see my minion there indeed. Mouth wide open in song. Hopefully, he won't make it a competition again. But that would also be funny to see him do as well, mess up Lilyanne and this picture-perfect performance in front of so many. He's very good at that, and I'll keep him on for that amusement alone if not for anything else.

It's nice though, watching him, and all these cute children I don't really know or care for grow up better. Better than what we had. Different in ways I'm not sure are all good, but surely better.

With some scary honing senses, Lukas' gaze, perfectly color-themed tonight, goes from the center that is my sister taking her place to where I snuck up to watch on the sides. The child disregards all rules of behavior to not only wave at me but to reach over some other shorter children's shoulders to knock another child in the lined-up choir.

He smacks Amar's fluffy head with a cheeky grin, then hops down to stand next to him, all while still waving at me.

I can't say that the other children are perfectly behaved either, but Lukas is really something else.

Amar's little mouth falters a bit, already not that wide when he sang along. When he catches sight of where Lukas is waving at, it turns into a tiny almost embarrassed smile, messing up the lines he's supposed to sing. Instead, those idiots just wave, maybe trying to get my attention.

A quick conducting sound wave from Mr. Orfeo has them back on track, along with any other naughty or too distracted child. I laugh at finally seeing how they managed to organize or control this many untrained children into a choir.

Still, it's a very lovely one. Immensely charming. Even with the childish mispronunciations or little lisps.

Children giggle and sing, they sway to the music, even if they have to make way for my sister as a star. It's still very fun to be a spinning one themselves.

Like I predicted though, a few voices, or one in particular, doesn't quiet down right enough for Lilyanne's great showcase. But it's all alright. They seem to be enjoying themselves too much to mind. Even the conductor can only shake his head.

This didn't happen in the last life, nor anything like it. This show, this festival. So much has changed and it's very scary to think about how much will continue to change. But right now, everything feels....a lot more ok.

A few kids laugh out of tune at Lukas' pitch break battle. Amar's usually sly teasing goes unheard at this distance, but the laughter is evident of his scrunched-up face and Lukas's good-natured one. Eventually, all pitches break when Lilyanne gives up art for just out screaming everyone. It's the best we can expect from a 4-year-old.

The audience applauds like mad nonetheless, loving it all. I can't even blame them. Cute is cute, and there's a lot of cuteness on stage tonight.

With a final firework explosion, so ends the song and the end of the festival! With a bang and a roar.

Or is it?

When the crowds finally scream their applause hoarse, the lights dim evermore, yet still not fading. That sweet lull of music plays slowly once more. For indeed the very last time. To say goodbye and goodnight in the most touching way. The children sing up in tune once more, the last stretch.

"Silent night, holy night. All is calm and all is bright~"

Oh ho ho! I may have stolen another famous song from another world for this, just maybe. There are enough words changed in the version I had them learn, no one is going to catch me.

Besides, it's just so classic and cute! A must for winter holiday night.

"Sleep in heavenly peace, ooh!

Sleep, sleep in heaven, heavenly peace."

The kids sing, though tired they may be. The softness of their voices doing the very same to all who hear. Turning them soft and relaxed in their spots.

I turn my attention back on not my loudest, but my most awkward of tone-deaf disciples.

Amar sings along without much movement, his eyes curiously looking up to meet mine at the staring he must sense. The very displeased teacher vibes I am trying to telepathically send out.

"Louder!" I slowly and silently pronounce, signing our previous lesson with my arms. "Louuuuuuuuuder! "

He dares to snort, hiding his laugh in Lukas's neck. But when he recovers, he definitely tries to comply. Opening up with all these voices around. A little less concerned for how he sounds and more of what I've been trying to tell him. To just have fun with it.

"Silent night, holy night

Shepherds quake at the sight

Glories streams from heaven afar

Heavenly hosts sing, alleluia"

It's a beautiful song. The delicate mood of it washing over everyone and everything.

"Looooouder! So I can hear you! Sing!" I silently order and gesture, being as encouraging as I can, knowing the message is getting through.

For the first time, I can see Amar smiling through a song. Not just in poking fun at someone or watching something funny, though he might be doing that at my private hopping conducting. But he's actually smiling gracefully with each word, line and tune. Like a duck to water, a child to fun, it suits him very well.

I almost pat myself in the back right then and there in pride...for being such a genius teacher! I've really outdone myself this time.

Especially when I can finally hear him. Not just blended in the choir. I can actually hear that voice, happily ringing like the bright cheerful jingles of silver bells, taking over the song far better than any practice session. Either in painful personal sessions or with any number of other singers.

It's the best run we've had yet. Absolutely perfect.

His eyes smile into half-moons and closed, happy in this moment. The last lingering lines of this sweet lullaby.

"Holy infant, so tender and mild

Sleep in heavenly peace, oh….

Sleep in heavenly peace~"

Peace it is.

The perfect note. The perfect calm and stillness to a song sung so lovely.

I can't hold it in anymore when I start clapping wildly. Sorry mood, but this deserves my standing ovation!

Amar finally opens his eyes to my single applause. But that peaceful smile starts to drop. Faltering and falling as something not right takes over his expression.

Confusion. Panic. Fear. So much fear.

They cross by so quickly and intensely that I start to step to the stage to ask what's wrong. But with my half step, my clapping stops. As do all sounds.

There is no sound.

No clapping, no voices, nothing but a few low snores. The only sharp breaths or noise are between the two of us.

Everyone...has fallen asleep?

The children. The crowds. The surrounding guards. My little sister on the center stage. Even Lukas, who was by Amar's side the whole time. Everyone has slumped or frozen, as if suddenly asleep!?

No. No way?!

"What….what's going on?" I can hear myself mumble, if not for that being the only conscious sounds around us.

But it isn't the time for confused staring. Not when Amar's breathing sharply goes irregular, a confused horror nearly hyperventilating the child. His face gone pale, his shoulders shaking and intensifying.

"Hey?! Are you ok? Breathe you idiot. No no no don't fall on me too? " I run up to him, the only other awake seemingly awake soul.

Like a scared deer in headlight, he looks up at me in blank shock, slowly but surely breaking himself out of his stupor to move.

"I don't know what's going on but it's going to be ok. We're gonna figure this out. " I call out to him, even over the shocking sight of so many people who feel asleep on their feet. The eerie surprise of a world gone silent.

I should be running for Lillyanne, my first priority in life and survival. But it's like a sleeping beauty curse has fallen over everyone and everything. Everyone but one other terrified child.

"Amar, come on. Get out of there while you can." I yell, doing a bad job of controlling my own rising worries and fear.

The kid steps too slowly for this situation. Lost, and as if blindly following my voice. He blinks, trying to regain himself. His green eyes wide and shaken, looking for something, anything.

"Rosa?-" he starts to reach.

A clap.

An applause.

Slow steady footsteps approaching.

Expensive leather makes a very different sound on hardwood floors, even a cheap platform like this. It comes closer and closer, echoing in this haunted silence. One. Two. Two pairs of shoes, light as they are. The controlled beats of a metronome followed by a more delicate pitter-patter.

The single clapping echos so.

"Bravo. Certainly a show I did not expect. How entertaining."

Leather gloves snap in place, two shadows long and out of place. Yet it's the only comfort I know to turn to, breaking out of this silent blue.

"Papa?" I squeak out, trying and failing to control the almost cries that earlier came out of me.

My Father lands on stage with supernatural grace, his cloak flowing like a blanket of night. His sister, Valentia, followed not far behind him. Just as eerily silent with a figure long and tight, a smile of red lipstick far too wide. The air of something wrong intensifying if it already wasn't so obvious.

"Rosalia." that man calls out for me, holding out a single leather hand outreached, waiting. Waiting though his time is precious, knowing far too much, no matter what lifetime.

I run to that, nearly colliding with his leg.

"Papa, what's going on?! Why is everyone like this? How did it come to this? What should we do!? What-" my panic can no longer be hidden, not like this.

"My….how cute indeed. You never told me, Freddy." aunt Valentia crooned, watching in a glazed thought.

"I felt no need to." Father dully tells her, cradling me into his arms before picking up the asleep Lilyanne.

"To keep it all to yourself, how typical of you." she plays with her own bottom lip, lipstick never fading. "That Aishwarya left something so….devastating."

That….that name?

Amar's knees lose their strength, the boy finally crumbling down. The shivers all the worse, his hand useless as they come up to cover his mouth. Clamped tightly. Like he was hiding his missing teeth all over again. Muffling all sights and sounds, even a scream over his mouth. Scared not of the outside world but….himself?

Did he….did he do this? Is he the one responsible?

"This is what will happen. In some time, the honorable Lord Commander of this land shall awaken everyone in the splendor of a Ventrella show. Another one of his wonderful inventions gone a bit awry. Nothing that honorable Father isn't capable of or fixing away. Meanwhile, my girls are far too young to be staying up so past their bedtime, and must retire. The clean-up shall be concise, it shall not be questioned. Have I made myself clear?" Father says dully, reciting the tasks.

As if it were nothing.

I want to say no. No, it's not clear at all. But I fear I can't speak calmly or rationally at this moment. I can only stare up at him with imploring eyes. Eyes begging to communicate a better explanation, even if I know he can somehow fix all this.

But what even is this?

"As for you…"

There goes a single gloved snap of his finger. Father pulls me into his cloak a few seconds too slow, covering my senses in his forced comforts. Hiding me away.

Still, I watch the secret forces behind him drop down. Tall shadows and figures securing their tasks. They drop and surround the spot Amar had fallen. Even when I can no longer see it, I know just enough to drive me mad.

There goes the clatter of something metallic and heavy, clamping down without mercy.

"Be glad you took after your Mother's tongue. We won't have to gouge out those eyes. Hopefully." Father's words are among the last things I hear.

All screams, if there were any, muffled.