Chapter 190: The Sisters Leaving The Castle

By late afternoon, the three sisters had returned to the chamber they had shared within the royal castle.

The room no longer looked as though three girls had lived there for several days.

Outside the tall windows, the day was slowly descending toward evening.

Their departure was approaching.

The sisters' traveling clothes had already been prepared.

They were not as extravagant as the gowns they had worn during Camellia's coming-of-age celebration, obviously, but Ulrich had not permitted anything plain or cheaply made to be packed for them either. Their dresses were practical for the journey, warm, layered, and made to withstand the cold air that would settle after sunset, but every stitch still carried the refinement expected of ladies from House Rubenhart.

Hermione stood near the mirror in a deep burgundy traveling gown. The high collar framed her pale neck, while the dark cloak resting over her shoulders was fastened with a small silver clasp. The dress was elegant without being ostentatious, the color suiting her serious expression and silver hair.

Airam wore a midnight-blue gown with long sleeves and a narrow belt at the waist. It bore almost no ornament beyond thin silver embroidery at the cuffs and hem. She had chosen it herself, declaring that excessive lace would only become caught on branches, carriage doors, and people's hands.

Esther's gown was pale blue.

It was softer in color than either of her sisters' dresses, with white fur lining at the collar and cuffs. A small silver brooch held her cloak in place, and the fabric of her skirt moved lightly whenever she shifted from one foot to the other.

Yet Esther was not admiring herself in the mirror.

She knelt beside a wooden case placed on the carpet near the bed.

The box was crimson, with the red crest of House Rubenhart engraved discreetly into its lid. It was open now, revealing the dress Esther had worn to the royal ceremony.

The gown had been folded perfectly.

Soft white cloth had been placed between the layers to protect the fabric, while the jewelry she had worn was arranged in separate velvet-lined compartments beside it. Her necklace lay coiled carefully in one section. A bracelet rested beside it. The earrings had been placed in a small round case so they would not be crushed during the journey.

Esther looked down at them with a smile.

She reached into the box and gently patted the folded gown.

"It was such a beautiful dress," she said.

A shame, she wouldn't wear it anytime soon or perhaps not anymore ever as she would eventually grow up. In the end, Ulrich had spent so much for a single night; Esther only hoped, despite how it began, they made a good impression.

Hermione glanced toward her from the mirror.

"It is still a beautiful dress."

"I know." Esther's smile widened. "I just mean… I cannot believe Lord Ulrich had it prepared for us, big sister. It looked like something a real lady would wear."

"You are a lady," Hermione said.

Esther tilted her head.

"A witch lady?"

"A lady who is also a witch."

"That sounds better," she giggled.

"It is more accurate."

Esther returned her attention to the pale fabric. Her fingers hovered over the edge of the gown, careful not to disturb the folding.

"I liked dancing in it," she said quietly. "I liked when Lord Ulrich held my hand and told me not to care what the others said."

Hermione's expression changed in the mirror.

Esther had looked happier that night than Hermione had seen her in a long time.

Until the demons came.

Until Ulrich collapsed.

Hermione looked away from the mirror.

"Close the box properly," she said. "That gown cost a great deal. If anything happens to it during the journey, Ulrich will be annoying us."

"Yes," Esther nodded.

Then she slowly lowered the lid of the wooden case.

The latch clicked into place.

A knock sounded at the door.

Hermione turned.

"Come in."

The door opened, and two Rubenhart knights entered. They had removed their helmets out of courtesy, revealing the crimson uniforms beneath their armor. Both looked older than the sisters, battle-hardened men who normally carried themselves with the strict formality expected of a Count's personal guard.

Yet their manner toward the girls was gentle.

"My ladies," one said, bowing. "The carriage is being prepared. Shall we take the cases down?"

Esther immediately stood.

"Yes, please."

She placed both hands over the lid of her wooden box for one final moment, then looked up at the knight with a bright smile.

"And thank you."

The knight's expression softened slightly.

"It is our duty, Lady Esther."

The second knight moved toward Hermione's case, which had been packed with much greater order. Her books had been arranged by size. Her writing supplies had been tied together in a leather roll. Every piece of jewelry had been placed in its proper compartment, and the gowns had been folded with straight lines.

Airam's case stood near the wall.

It was smaller than the others but heavier.

The first knight glanced toward Airam.

"Lady Airam, may we take yours as well?"

Airam nodded briefly.

Esther moved eagerly toward the chair before the mirror.

"Can we do my hair now, big sister?"

Hermione gestured toward the seat.

"Sit, princess."

Esther obeyed immediately, giggling.

Her long blond hair fell loosely down her back, shining gold where the last light of afternoon touched it through the window. Hermione moved behind her with a brush, beginning at the ends so that she would not pull too hard.

Airam sat on the edge of the nearby bed, watching her younger sisters.

After a moment, Hermione said, "Airam, would you braid it?"

Airam looked up.

"You can braid hair."

"Not that braid."

Their mother would often sit Esther, Hermione, or even Airam sometimes between her knees in the morning, humming quietly while she divided their hair into thick sections and wove them together.

Hermione had tried to imitate it.

She always made it too tight.

Or too loose.

Or uneven.

Airam had learned by watching.

Airam rose from the bed.

"Move," she told Hermione.

Hermione stepped aside without argument.

Airam took the brush from her, then stood behind Esther. Her fingers were cool and careful as she separated the hair into three thick sections. She began to braid it slowly, drawing each section across the other with a precision that made Esther sit unusually still.

"You remember exactly how Mother did it, Eldest sister," Esther said, smiling, kicking her legs.

Airam's hands did not stop.

"I remember because you cried whenever Hermione did it."

"I—I did not cry!"

"You cried."

"I was little…" Esther sulked.

"You cried last year too."

"That was because Hermione pulled."

Hermione folded her arms in embarrassment.

"I only pulled because your hair was tangled."

For a few moments, only the soft sound of the brush moving through hair filled the room.

Then Esther spoke again.

"The ceremony was good."

Hermione looked at her through the mirror.

"You already said that."

"I know. I am thinking about it again."

Airam tied another section into the braid.

"There were demons," she pointed out.

"Y—Yes," Esther said. "That part was bad."

She actually had a nightmare about the demons the previous night.

"Very bad," Hermione added.

Esther looked down at her hands in her lap.

"And Lord Ulrich got hurt."

The warmth in the room dimmed slightly.

Hermione's fingers tightened around the edge of the dressing table.

Airam's movements slowed for one brief second.

Esther swallowed.

"I thought he was going to die."

"Hmph. That man won't die that easily, believe me," Hermione replied.

Esther's mouth curved upward.

"That is true."

Then she brightened again.

"Also, we made friends! That was good!"

Hermione's expression shifted slightly.

"Did we?"

"Yes." Esther nodded. "Princess Camellia is our friend."

"Well, that is true," Hermione admitted.

"And Lady Louise."

Hermione made a sound that was not quite agreement.

Esther looked at her reflection.

"Do you hate Lady Louise?"

"I do not hate her."

"You sound like you do."

"I said I do not."

Airam spoke before Hermione could say more.

"She does not want Louise to become Countess."

The entire room froze.

Hermione turned so quickly toward Airam that the chair legs scraped faintly against the floor.

"A—Airam!"

Esther's eyes widened.

"Countess?"

Airam continued to braid Esther's hair.

Her face remained entirely composed.

"Was I wrong?"

"Yes."

Hermione's answer was quick.

Airam lifted one eyebrow.

"Louise likes Ulrich."

"That does not mean she will become Countess."

"She danced with him."

"Everyone danced with someone at the ceremony."

"She held his arm."

"She was helping him!"

"She called him Ulrich intimately."

Hermione's face became red.

"That is because they are close friends! Childhood friends, even she said!"

"And you dislike it."

"I do not!"

Esther turned around again, despite Airam's hand still holding her hair.

She tilted her head.

"What would be wrong if Lady Louise became Countess? She is pretty, and she is strong, and she helped Lord Ulrich at the ceremony. She was kind to us too."

Hermione's lips parted.

Then closed.

"There is nothing wrong with her," she muttered.

"Then why—"

"Nothing," Hermione said with a small stutter. "There is nothing. Stop asking."

Esther stared at her for a moment.

Then she smiled in sudden understanding.

"Oh."

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing."

Esther just giggled, shaking her head.

Then, perhaps deciding not to make Hermione suffer further, she changed the subject.

"I am very happy that Princess Camellia is our friend."

Esther's voice became dreamy.

"She was so kind. And she is beautiful. And she is so princess-like. Even when she is sad, she still looks elegant. And she knew exactly what to say to make me feel better."

"She is a princess," Hermione said.

"I know." Esther nodded. "A real princess."

Hermione's expression softened as she looked at Esther through the mirror.

Airam was finishing the thick braid now, securing its end with a blue ribbon that matched Esther's traveling gown.

"She is a princess," Hermione repeated.

Then she added, more quietly, "But so are you."

Esther's eyes widened.

She snapped her head around before Airam could stop her.

"Really?"

Airam caught the braid before it unraveled completely.

Hermione flinched.

For a brief moment, she looked as though she wished she could take the words back.

Airam gave her a pointed stare.

Hermione glanced between them.

Then she straightened, attempting to recover her dignity.

"Y—Yes," she said. "Our princess."

Esther's entire face lit up.

"Me?"

"Yes."

Esther did not wait for another word.

She rose from the chair and threw her arms around Hermione.

Hermione made a startled sound, stumbling back one small step before wrapping her arms around Esther automatically.

"You are my princess too," Esther said into her shoulder. "And Eldest sister is one too."

Airam stood behind them, arms crossing over her chest.

"Hmph, if we are princesses, maybe Ulrich would have treated us better like Camellia," Hermione said thoughtfully, still bitter about Ulrich's unique treatment of Camellia.

"You are just jealous," Airam pointed out.

"I am not!"

"I think Lord Ulrich is strict with us because he cares for us more, big sister," Esther said, pulling back.

"God, Esther," Hermione sighed at her naive sister, who sees only good in everything Ulrich does.

"She has been brainwashed by Ulrich since day one; what did you expect?" Airam replied.

"That's mean, eldest sister!"

At that time, a polite knock sounded.

"My ladies?" Came the voice of a Rubenhart knight. "The carriage is ready."