Marilla, Halfeti named herself in the mirror every morning. Marilla. Marilla. Marilla. It would stick eventually, she knews1. Just not today.
With a sigh, she let herself out of her bathroom. Her bathroom. What a surreal experience, to have space to call one's own after having roomed with her siblings all her life. She hadn't realized how much she craved some privacy until she had tasted a smidgeon of it.
Of course, none of it was truly her own— the Garden had paid a hefty sum for her lodgings even though she had received a scholarship. The Academy's generosity only extended so far, she supposed. She had caught a glimpse of the bills on the Sister's desk. How was any commoner expected to pay that much? Or had the Garden simply failed at bargaining? Had there been any bargaining to be done at all?
That much money could have sustained the Garden through several harsh winters. And sure, the Sister claimed to have been saving it ever since Halfeti showed an interest in tackling the entrance exams, but she couldn't help but think that maybe this year her family would have to starve for a few days.
The letters from Sunsprite, Ausgold and Ausmas still lay on her bed (her bed). She had been ushered into the same room as the boys as soon as she'd shown up in the Garden. They had pulled on her pigtails, then, called her names and filled her sleeping rug with tadpoles. Halfeti had slapped Ausmas across the face, hard enough that a tooth had gone flying away. For a few hours, neither of the twins had talked to her. Later, at night, Halfeti had held out Ausmas' tooth to him, and told him the story of the Tooth Mice, those that stole your broken teeth away from under your pillows and left cheese in their wake.
She had gotten in trouble the next day, for stealing from the kitchen. Ausmas and Ausgold wouldn't realize this until several years later. To them, the cheese had appeared by magic, and the Tooth Mice had done their job. They had pestered her for more stories, and she had complied. None of them ever apologized; it was a slight forgotten and forgiven as children are often known to do.
Sunsprite, on the other hand, had arrived only three years ago. Timid yet optimistic, with a little gap between her front teeth. By then the twins had matured enough to know what not to do to a scared little girl delivered to their doorstep. And since Halfeti had just recently begun her training sessions, little Sunsprite was allowed to rest on her bed.
That day, Halfeti had come home to not only her two brothers snoring loudly as they often did, but also a trembling little soul whose eyes were wide open in the darkness, curled into herself and trying her best to muffle her sobs.
When Halfeti had laid down beside her, Sunsprite had jolted from fright. It was only after Halfeti held out her arms that Sunsprite had burrowed into her, using her as a shield from the monsters outside, and slowly allowed sleep to claim her.
The Roses had since then been complete, although Halfeti wasn't sure if they'd bring in a new roommate for them now that she was gone.
It was for them, and for the children over at the Tulips, the Asters, the Sunflowers— for everyone the Garden had claimed and nursed back to health. It was for them that she needed to succeed in her mission. For her family.
Halfeti threw one last look at her room— disgustingly sterile— and stepped out into the hallway.
Almost immediately, she bumped into the janitor: an old, matronly woman who specialized in mopping the floors and scolding anyone who dared step on them before they were fully dry.
"Good morning, Marilla dear," she said, face adorned with a smile. Halfeti had helped her clean the bathrooms once, and since then become her favourite, apparently.
"Good morning, Miss," Halfeti answered, schooling her face into a smile, too. She leaned against the doorframe, waiting for the droplets of water on the floor to evaporate before she stepped out.
"Oh, how many times do I have to tell you this? You don't need to call me miss, just my name will do!" The janitor chuckled to herself, dipping her mop in a bucket and continuing to sweep, sweep, sweep, further and further away from Halfeti.
Halfeti offered her a polite smile in return. Truthfully, she never addressed the janitor by name because she had failed to learn it. The janitor just knew hers, by some miracle, and it felt rather awkward to display her ignorance. And the longer she went without asking for her name, the more daunting the concept became. Halfeti could only pray that one day, preferably soon, someone would call for the janitor by name and spare her the agony.
As the floor finally became crisp as new, Halfeti stepped out. The dorm across from hers remained shut. From what she had heard, it was reserved exclusively for members of the...Church. No one had inhabited it for many years, some even claiming it to be haunted.
The clock chimed seven, and Halfeti set out for the Noble's hallway. Since it was the weekend, she planned to tackle the behemoth task of beginning to map it that day. But of course, when did things ever go as planned?
No sooner did she stumble into the hall that Professor Tylen ran upto her, praised the heavens for her presence, and dragged her towards the Auditorium so that she could aid in the preparations for the Youth Fest.
Professor Tylen handed her some supplies, gave her a hasty order to start cutting all the paper into flowers, and ran out of the Auditorium.
Halfeti looked at the massive stack of papers in front of her and the pair of scissors in her hand and lamented not being allowed to kill these teachers.
How did one make paper flowers, again? She had scoffed at the Origami elective, thinking it to be entirely unimportant to her goals. Had that been a mistake?
Halfeti grimaced as she picked up a piece of paper. Uttering an apology for the defilement she would subject it to, she let the blade slide through. The paper ripped too far apart for it to be turned into what she was envisioning, and she had to lessen the scope of her imagination.
After ten minutes of toiling away with the scissors, she was left with a shape that could be considered a poor imitation of a rat-eaten biscuit.
Halfeti placed the abomination on the table and pondered deeply for a moment about whether or not she wanted to waste more resources on this fruitless endeavour.
All of a sudden, an elegant hand reached down in front of her, picking up the piece of paper she was too ashamed to call a flower. Halfeti watched as Princess Kathryn closely scrutinized her work and tried not to shrivel of embarrassment.
She had seen the princess outside of classes only once, when she had accidentally overheard a squabble which although silly was not meant for her ears. The princess probably didn't know about this, though, as she hadn't tried to silence Halfeti yet. Or was that the reason she was here now? To silence her? What else would she be doing in this place?
The princess squinted at the thing in her hand. "Is this...a cat?"
"...A flower."
"...I see."
The princess sat down next to her, producing another scissor from who-knew-where, and picked up one of the papers scattered over the table. "Did Professor Tylen set you up for this?"
Halfeti nodded, before realizing that the princess wasn't looking at her, and probably couldn't tell that she was nodding. "Yes, Your Highness."
The princess sighed. "Pardon her for that. With only another month to prepare everything, I believe she's running a fair bit frantic. I did ask her to bring in someone to aid me with the decorations. I pray she didn't interrupt any plans."
"No, Your Highness," Halfeti said. It wouldn't do to seem disharmonious in front of the princess, lest she fall in her bad graces, especially if she was the one causing this disruption in Halfeti's schedule. Royal tempers were not to be trifled with.
The princess smiled. "I'm glad to hear that," she said, putting a perfectly crafted rose down on the table. When during their conversation she had finished that, Halfeti did not know.
Halfeti watched as the princess once again began the process of turning a mere piece of paper into a tulip so life-like Halfeti would have accidentally placed it in a vase of water. And then another. And another. And another. A lily, a periwinkle, a...vine, of some sort.
...Halfeti would pick up origami next semester, if sheremained here that long.
As the princess continued to skillfully make her way through the paper, Halfeti sat across from her, feeling utterly useless. If she had already forgone her plans for the day, couldn't she at least contribute to this task that had sidelined her? "Can I be of any help, Your Highness?"
The princess stopped cutting and looked at her. "Of course! You can help with the flower arrangements."
Another elective she hadn't thought to take. "...Er, sorry, Your Highness. I don't know how."
"Ah. Then...can you fancy up some ribbons for decorations?"
"...No, Your Highness."
"Can you...sew? Maybe you can add some patterns to the tablecloth?"
"No..."
"You could help with...music selection...?"
"..."
"...Well, this is certainly a dilemma." The princess tilted her head. "What is a skillset you do have?"
Halfeti had many skillsets, but she wasn't sure if any of them would be relevant here. What use is weaponry in setting up decorations? "I can lift heavy things?"
The princess hummed. "That certainly would be helpful, but I'm afraid none of the heavy items arrive for another fortnight. This has been an extremely poorly organized event."
Halfeti nodded. No event that required a professor to haphazardly grab a student off the corridor could be considered well-organized.
But that begged the question, was there anything left for Halfeti to do?
It seemed the princess had arrived at the same question. "I suppose then you can drop by to help in a few days?"
Halfeti nodded. She knew a dismissal when she saw one. "I will."
"If you find anyone who is free, please request them to help, too," the princess said, sighing. "I'm not sure why the festival hasn't just been postponed."
"Yes, Your Highness," Halfeti said, curtseying.
"And Marilla," the princess called out. Halfeti, who had almost turned and fled, stopped in her tracks.
"Yes, Your Highness?"
The princess smiled again. "Call me Kathryn."
Halfeti tried to match her smile. "I will."