Wherein the women claim their territories.
As far as townhouses went, it couldn’t be categorised as small. If Valentina was to be believed, it also wasn't anywhere close to being a mansion. Rose had trouble believing that; this house was bigger than the Town Speaker’s home back in Pinnacle.
The house smelled of gypsum, of paint and glue and wood polish. Voices and footsteps bounced around the raw, unfurnished spaces featuring window seats, little bookcase nooks, and connecting doorways, giving the house a unique character. It was easy to imagine the rooms dressed up in grandiose style, with that touch of messy that made it home. The front parlour, for instance, would make for an ever-so-nice music room. The acoustics were magnificent. The sun and moon on the crown moulding piece, from which a chandelier could be suspended, offered up a silent devotion to the Gods: Sunfather, Lord of Day, Patron of Crafts, the Rational Thinker, and Nightsoul, Lady of Night, Patroness of the Arts, the Loving Heart. The two-foot-wide plaster disk reminded her of the mural over the harpsichord in the music room back home.
Eventually – after having investigated the upper floors as well – Rose made it to the kitchen. "Unless either of you objects, I'll take the attic." The attic was not as airy as the rest, the floor plan a little odd, but it suited her needs perfectly. It sported a tiny balcony overlooking the water-filled ditch that demarcated the property's backyard boundary.
"Leaves the second floor for me. I'm good." Bosra didn't like the attic. The ceiling was barely taller than at the smalls house and she'd have to contort herself to get into certain parts of it. The two sprawling bedrooms and the connecting closet with a lavette behind a fold-out screen were one room more than she was going to use.
"I will be utterly happy with the first floor," Valentina stated.
"I know you’re breaking free of riches, but," Rose started tentatively, "who’s going to wax the floors and dust the cabinets?"
"I could hire someone?" Valentina suggested tenuously, rubbernecking in an attempt to look Bosra and Rose in the eye at the same time. Both women shrugged. This would be Valentina’s call to make.
Valentina observed her new demesne. She already had bedroom trappings installed; a four-poster bed, a standing mirror, a vanity, a dainty set of chairs with a matching table. Her suitcases were waiting to be unpacked. She had placed a bouquet of roses on the windowsill purely for the lovely scent.
Five rooms would be all hers, including two bedrooms, a large bathroom with indoor plumbing and a thaumic heater that would ensure warm baths, a linen closet and a walk-in dressing room. It was arguably too big for one woman living by herself, and wasn't that part of what she had hoped to escape by moving out of her parental palace?
At least if she shouted in the hall, Rose would be able to hear her voice – if not the actual words – in the attic. Including the rooms in the half-basement, this house had under twenty-five rooms, where her parental home had more than twenty-five rooms simply for staff.
She was curious what Bosra and Rose thought of their new living quarters, aside from 'adequate'. Although she found that looking at it thusly did bring peace of mind.
The house had a roof and sturdy walls, glass panes in the window frames and shutters to keep out the storms, doors that didn’t creak and staircases that were safe to traverse.
Furniture could be acquired. Firewood for the stoves and hearths could be bought. Stains and scratches would accrue in their own time, a sign of life being lived.
There had been no stains anywhere in Effyne Palace. Venlica of Effyne abhorred messes of any kind. Anything and everything had to be spotless for the spotlight. Valentina sometimes wondered how such a pristine woman had managed to conceive and bear two children.
Valentina had spent the days of her girlhood front and centre on the stage that was the Effyne Palace. She and her sister had been the mannequins upon which the dresses of affluence were displayed to the invited few.
Now she was free to make her own mess and clean up after herself. She thought about deliberately knocking over the vase, but couldn’t. Her hand reached for a single flower and stilled. Panic slammed into her at the thought of marring the perfect picture.
She sank down on the plush bench that sat centre stage in front of the vanity. Turning away from the mirrors, she hid her face behind her hands. Her slender frame shook from the violence of her sobs, though no sound escaped her lips.
Purely out of curiosity, Bosra stood on tiptoes and tried to touch the ceiling of her new room. Her fingertips could barely brush the gypsum moulding in the centre of the ceiling.
A languorous smile stretched her mouth wide.
These four walls weren't the animal-hide tarpaulins used by the clans to create shelters, but they would do. They would definitely do. With a mattress, a stack of blankets and a rug by the fireplace, it could be cosy.
Staring out of the window, at the considerable expanse of untidy grass that stretched between these walls and the mansion next door, she tried to calculate if there was space enough for a pet. A flying lion maybe. Or a tentacle kitty. Maybe, just maybe, another drake.
Buddy was irreplaceable. There would never be a second Buddy. She had carried him with her since he had been an egg on the verge of pipping. She hadn't cared that he was the wrong colour for his egg, or that he tried to eat her.
She sighed. Good times.
He had been with her for seventeen years. Could've been with her a lot longer if he hadn't been killed on her last adventure.
Her chest ached with remembering. Except... the utter disbelief of that moment had been replaced with the steady, unrelenting experience of living without the brutishly big, blue beast.
Pupper had filled a bit of the emptiness left behind by Buddy's death. Rose was someone to care for. To keep an eye on. One to teach new ways and find companionship with.
Rose was a good friend.
Tina... She was like the monster kits Bosra hoped to train once again. Unruly. Angsty. Uncertain of her place in the world. A fun challenge.
Bosra and Rose made the trip back to the smalls house together, where they would sleep for one last night. The journey was mostly spent in silence. The mutterings of other people were the white-noise backdrop for their ponderings.
After three months, it made Rose a little sad to leave the cheery community of dimunitive dwellers behind. When she set out from home, she couldn’t have imagined herself lodging here. Regardless, she and Bosra had been welcomed by the little dudes and dudettes who all had exuberantly large personalities.
Rose played a few tunes before going up to her room and packing everything that would let itself be stuffed into her big duffel bag. Strange... she had never thought her life could be summed up in two packed bags and a violin case.
She plunked down on the bed. The room was as it had been before she came here. There was no sign of her passing presence, save for the window opening again. Tomorrow, or maybe next week, someone else would be staying here. Someone with brightly coloured hair and eyes too dazzling to be human.
Tomorrow she would have to brave classes at the College, then hunt for some basic commodities for her new residence.
She fell backwards into the soft pillows, pulling the blankets over her legs.
She let thoughts of home and of things to come run through her head in no particular order, and eventually felt herself being overtaken by sleep.