I Was Born The Unloved Twin - 137 Sprinkle of sal

What horrors I cannot recite, nor fully recall. I will myself not to even bother, all nothing but perhaps the sickness and insanity of an old sinister, as I was as a modern woman. Inappropriate delusions, stained and set up by the creatures I call parents. I saw things that should not and will not ever be recited in any manner polite and decent company. Even if that is only to myself.

Oh the shame, forgive me for I bear the weight of another person, an adult not less, from another world, beyond this childish squishy frame.

But beyond that, the urgent matter of the moment takes precedent. A new terror beyond the understanding of the dull and uninformed of this world

That first morning, after that awful night, I had awakened in the perfumed milky arms of my mother. A torturous event to be sharing any space with my parents quarters, as much as Lilyanne lives co-sleeping with the parentals. My fainting routine, and ill-travelling constitution, further cementing an entirely wrong idea of my health to not only my mother but all staff affected by the family orders.

I’m not the delicate one! Other than my sensibilities that is. Well no more than any normal toddler, we’re squishy.

The steam outside my viewing window rise in slow mockery, trees turning colors wave their branches above me. The world a still.

All, save I….let me out already!!!

I’ve been grounded! For my health? Blah blah blah they just want to ground me because I’m me! Boo hoo hoo what unfairness it is to be a child so small and useless. Controlled to my parents every whim.

I have been placed in confinement. A specialized dungeon of my own. Yes, my little maid and assistant are still around to serve me as needed but still. A solitary grounding. One of rest, recuperation and homework. Blasted homework!

Father is stealing my ideas again. Since the grampa version of revelations were made officially known to my parents, father has poked and prodded in his own way what I’m willing to give about the upcoming famines.

But it’s not like I know it all? I was a spoiled little girl buried in homework and some pretty painful tutoring. Tutoring I realize now must have been a sort of failure on my part, despite completing the lessons.

I don’t have talent. That’s what father said, in this life, in this timeline. I don’t have talent.

I definitely know how to feel pain. Yet no way of turning it off.

How frustrating, and he won’t tell me more. All he does now is hand me more homework and say “listen to your mother” as he runs off the, oh I don’t know, overwork himself on my warnings and ideas. How rude.

And so, when my days at the resorts are not taken over by playing teddy bear to mother or babysitter to Lilyanne, I am placed in my own suite, my prison in the disguise of luxury.

Today I cower in the far corner, with all the lights turned on despite the daylight hours. If I do not turn I do not have to really look at where mother or Lilyanne left it last. The windowsill.

A cursed cloth and stitch doll, a sick plaything of human resemblance. Admittedly it is no deadwood mummified Kitty, an innocent appearance in comparison.

Too innocent.

Wrong, like make-up on a corpse. It looks like someone took a vintage Raggedy Ann doll, stuffed the murderous soul of horror movie icons Abbabelle and Chucky, then put a Ponyo filter on it. Creepy Ponyo? Yes, yes it is possible. After all the horror movie training torture I’ve been put through, I would know!

Black eyes, wretched button bead eyes with something sinister to them. I can just feel it. As if you dare to look too closely and the reflection you see might not be your own anymore. Very Coraline. Like the bad part if she gets buttons sewn on her eyes or something.

Did I mention the very worst part? Its hair.

This wretched shade of dried blood washed and faded only a layer. This very specific shade of red, yet not, but in sunlight glows as bright a ruby as my father’s. Such a color should not be possible in the material yet there it sits. As if cut from my own head, my ugliness for all the world to see. It unnerves me in too many ways to count.

A taunt, a joke, a promise of evil coming for me should I ever let my down my guard.

*knock knock*

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! IT’S COMING FROM THE WINDOW, IT’S ATTACKING! IT’S FINALLY ATTACKING!!!?!

“Rosa? What are you doing under the bed?”

Oh my god, the doll ate Amar! It even has the kid’s confused voice! Hey wait….

“Death! Get out or get the death sentence! And take that with you!” I scream at the criminal behind this entire thing, throwing not just pillows but heavy-handed homework materials.

I am proud to say my strength is sufficient to toss books not. Aim and fire! How dare!

A present? A souvenir?! No no no souvenirs are foreign snacks or stupid novelty items, not scary dollies!!! Too far! How dare you place this curse of a scary as hell Ponyo-Coraline-Annabelle in my presence!

“But I did? What’s a Ponyo? Oh is that the doll’s name, it’s very long? Oh so you do like it!” the troublesome little child, hiding like he’s in a game of wack a mole, pops back up from the window just long enough for me to get a good hit in. A scroll finally bouncing off his little head.

Score!

Wait no- this is not the time to cheer!

“It is not! Get it away from me and get back in the dungeons! Death! Death sentence for you!” I cry, slowly running out of things to throw at and out the window.

“um? Can I come back in now?” Amar asks, probably still hanging on outside, hiding from further missile attacks.

“No! Still banned! Go die!”

“But fishies?” he peeks up, barely visible.

“Stupid fish spoons mean nothing! Next time just get that and not kitty V2!!!”

For good measure, I reach into my purse to throw said novelty fish spoon. It spins very well, almost like a boomerang. That and I really did run out of stuff I can throw. Not my pillows, no more losing pillows.

“No, not that fish. These ones.” Amar senses that I’m out of ammo, pulling himself up and over the window just in time.

Score! Two points! The spoon goes smacking him on the head again and I really need to stop damaging the minion’s deficient little brain any further.

“Fishies?” he rubs his head with a free hand. The other one dragging along some still wet and dripping fish the size of myself. Actual legit fish, with scales, eyes and everything.

“That’s disgusting.” I grimace.

“But fish?” the brat repeats,so stupidly it’s actually as sad as it’s cute. He tilts his head in confusion as he holds the catch up higher, as if that could somehow change the fact that in front of me there are two raw healthy freshly caught perfect specimens of fat fat fat juicy sashimi material….

“Chop chop it up.” I relent, swallowing down my drool.

Gosh, darn it this gluttonous little body.

Soon my suite’s desk has turned into a chopping board. Other needed supplies kept in my baggie just for times like these. Plates. Chopsticks. A wheat balsamic experiment that’s the closest I can get to soy sauce, another little bottle of lemon juice, mmmmmmm. Just missing ginger and wasabi. And rice of course, oh how I miss rice.

“Chop in that way,” I instruct the right grain and slice, eyes focused on watching how an ugly fish can turn into a delicate delicious delicacy in but a few movements of a knife.

“Thinner.” I point at the skinned and cleaned fillets of delectable meat, whites and pink of my salmon slowly blooming way.

“Thicker!” I change my directions from the strong tail to the decadent belly. Otoro, Chutoro, Akami, all my parts of the fishies!

“Now chop this radish really fine till it looks like a straw pasta. ” I hand the minion a mild white radish. Gotta have my garnish and dressing.

Do not ask why I keep fresh vegetables in my purse. I just do. Ok?

Magic purse, why the hell not?….Don’t look at me like that Amar! Chop chop!

The door creaks open, my actual paid servants literally dropping

“Y-young miss, it has been almost 2 hourglasses and y-your- eeeeppp!” Abbey shrieks, tripping backward into Georgie’s arms.

“What the- Rosalia why is everything everywhere? Did a storm go through…what going on in here?” Georgie asks with a hand in the air, halting in place with a slight twitch to his brow. He rights up my whimpering little maid, who looks oddly frozen for the panic she just screamed out and crosses his arms at us kids.

“Chop!” I point and exclaim to the raw slices of flesh.

“Fishies?” Amar also points, but with a slightly bloody knife. Ah yes nothing wrong with this picture at all.

Sorry Abbey. It’s really just fish, please unfreeze.

“I see, does that mean the ‘death sentence’ on Amar is lifted? Are you two getting along again?” Georgie sighs, rolling the refreshment cart all the way in just as soon as he navigates a still stone stiff Abbey out the way.

“Hmmm I shall consider it after I eat, ” I decide, going back to urging the brat to keep slicing in order to free himself from any death warrants under my family’s power.

Bring on the sashimi!

“Right right right, such beautiful cuts of fish. Now arrange them on the radish. Yes just like that. Hmmm, how about a lemon? Layer them on top. Oh oh oh mix the white fish and the salmon, it makes a rose! Here gimmie a knife, wait no I have another in my purse.” I can feel myself speak without control, in the same way, I must hold back my natural saliva production.

“My young miss, I must ask you to stop.” Georgie deadpans, confiscating not only my knife but my sushi chef in training.

As if Amar’s the one being tainted and in need of protection, Georgie slips away the knives and slowly backs away with the kidnapped minion in his hold.

“Fine. More sashimi for me. Thank you for the food~” I place a raw head on display, sprinkle some already cut pretty citrus peels, and pour my imitation soy sauce in a little dish. Itadakimasu!

As I slurp down my first bite of salmon sashimi for the season, the servents all go insane in their own ways.

Frozen Abbey somehow pales even further, falling like a stone with a heavy thud. Meanwhile Georgie’s jaw drop, he shivers and shakes with a maniac sort of look as if facing a horror movie monster. Much like how I shake at the haunted Ponyo doll. Georgie holds Amar up like he’s ready to run away with the child. And only that child.

Hey Georgie, I know you’ve had a rough time a while back but I think you’re getting who’s in charge here mixed up.

You’re all lucky I’m very busy right now. Dipping my sashimi, Hmm let’s see what this white one tastes like, mmmm. How light and refreshing! Kinda like a snapper? Yes this one tastes better with the fake ponzu sauce.

“Don’t be scared, Rosa’s just like that. Last year she ate the fish straight from the river, like a baby bear about to hibernate. Scary but still baby fluffy and cute! It’s less scary if you think about it like that.” Amar’s voice gently comforts my fearful or near unconscious servents.

However, I don’t think I like that telling very much.

“…baby bear.” Georgie says to himself, eyes still focused on me in trepidation “…baby wolfbear…”

“…my young miss….” Abbey silently squeaks, barely moving her pale lips.

“…just a baby bear cub, nothing but a …cute…. maneating puppy cub.” Georgie continues to repeat, chanting in order to believe it.

“Don’t make me put you all back into the dungeons.” I munch on my sashimi.

Of course, I wouldn’t actually do that, just like how I think no one took my declaration of a property-wide brat death sentence seriously. But goodness gracious is the discipline here bad. What happened to the level of fear and well trained, you have no choice, respect that I used to instill as a villainess?

“But I just got out?” Amar complains with a soft little sigh.

“What?!” Georgie looks at the tiny kid in his arms in surprise, the wheels spinning in his pretty little head. “They put you back in?! Just you?! How long? But- no wait who else was down there with you? Yuna? Is that where he-”

“Um, yeah but he got out faster and is okay. I think. Cass and I had to stay lots longer, oh and she’s still there. ” Amar recounts.

“The nail polish and tailoring subject is in the dungeons?!” I feel a slice of fish drop from my mouth.

No no no bad sashimi, get back into my mouth. Mmmm it’s just too fresh. Hmm needs more soy sauce. Stay dead fishie, let me eat you!

“…..”

“Come help me finish this, then we can go visit the dungeons again! I have questions to ask. ” I excitedly hold out my chopsticks. This is a lot of fish and a single girl can’t eat it all, not without some more variety. Ahhh how I miss those gourmet meals in hotspring resorts back on earth, specifically in certain countries.

Ignorant of my thoughts, everyone seems to slowly back away even further, even the frozen Abbey on the ground. How rude but not the point.

“Georgie? Abbey, try it! It’s really good, Amar? Come on you’ve eaten this before!”

Once again Georgie turns to give the kiddo in his hold a very strange look. Abbey stays petrified, glued to the ground, though a fearful glance is spared upwards. Amar himself seems to be considering if he should just throw himself back out the window in an escape.

“Come on, try it. Don’t make me order you all. Really, it’s a fresh deliciousness that can’t be described! I just can’t finish and I wanna go interrogate- err I mean visit the dungeons faster!” I smile and advertise.

“Georgie? I’ll be ok. Please throw me out the window?” Amar begs the wrong way.

“No.” Georgie grimaces. Both at the fish and the window, especially since my suite is quite a drop. At least two stories.

“But fish…” Amar says solemnly, to both their glances and shivers my way.

“There has to be another way.” Georgie whispers.

My god why are they acting so strangely? Hmm maybe I shouldn’t have displayed the raw gaping fish heads in that manner? I suppose it does look a bit intimidating to foreigners.

Wait…I’m one of those foreigners now too.

“I-If the y-young m-miss…s-says so…w-we m-must.” Abbey, wobbly in the knees, makes her way over with a grim expression. Like a girl walking to duel with a life and honor on the line.

“Abbey no, don’t sacrifice yourself like that to the whims of the young miss. ” Georgie cries after her, yet making not a single step closer. In fact he seems to be backing to the window himself.

“R-r-remember m-me.” she cries, glancing back tearfully one last time as she reaches my table.

Hey hey hey why so serious?

“Georgie get back here with Amar, you guys too! Stop being such babies. How will you know you don’t like it till you try it. ”

“I already did,” Amar shivers in Georgie’s arms, giving everyone the entirely wrong impression. He makes it seem like I tortured force-fed him something horrible.

Oh picky children.

“Well try it again, this time with sauce. It’s much better with lemon and sauce? Come on, I’ll even take down the notice orders on you. ”

Not like any of the guards took it seriously, otherwise, they would have captured the brat by now. Or wait, was that what the whole earlier dungeon stint was?

Ah whatever, he’s still in one piece and that’s good enough.

The minion seems to droop with defeat, allowing Georgie to sacrifice him by hopping out his arms. He drags his feet a little but still manages to pass Abbey. Who by the way seems to be in mental peril, having a staring contest with one of the decapitated fish heads.

Amar pouts, doing his version of glaring. But he still opens up as I stab a chopstick worth of sashimi down his little mouth. The glare only grows wet and teary as his cheeks puff up. Until he appears to swallow it down, all without chewing and definitely without a hint of enjoyment.

“Is it over? Are you not mad anymore?” he sniffs, looking two seconds away from crying. The little mochi sized liar.

“You did so well Amar!” “S-so b-brave.” “You didn’t have to put up with Rosalia like that. ” “w-w-what does it t-taste like?” “Are you feeling alright? Of course, you don’t. Do you need some tea with honey?”

My own servants cheer and rush to comfort him, completely ignoring me. I now sentence them to eat more sashimi.

Go on you fools. Stop stalling.

As if taking courage from a now queasy looking child, Abbey takes a shakey stab and bite. Like ripping a bandage, she swallows it whole. Then promptly screams.

Maybe not in the good way.

“It’s m-MOVING in my m-mouth!!!A-and d-d-own-” she cries to Amar’s sympathetic pats on the back.

Is not! It’s just a little too fresh, and the sodium kinda gives it a yummy twitch to the muscles. Mmm so tasty.

Wait. Georgie? Georgie, why are you taking out a fire stone and a grill? No! What the hell are you doing?

“What I should have done at the start. Cook!” he says grimly, throwing it into the fireplace, immediately heating up.

“Nooooo not my fishies!” I cry for the waste, but it is too late.

Georgie, now stronger and faster than ever after the bullshit that was bootcamp, takes away my plates. Heads and all. Throwing them, my sauce, and condiments onto the heating grill.

“Pass the oil and honey Abbey,” he says in all seriousness.

“Y-yes! R-right away!” Abbey nearly trips in presenting the goods from the cart.

“Nooooooooooooo!!! Sashimi-chan!!!!” I throw myself in front of the flames but the heat is too much.

My thin slice sashimi is turning into…. grilled fish!

“It’s over, it’s finally over.” Georgie sighs, brushing the last of the oils and seasoning, turning the remnants of the fish to cook.

Then he turns to pour some kiddy safe herbal tea. His skills growing ever the more efficient, a little more professionally smooth from watching Alfonso. He pours and mixes in a generous serving of honey, feeding to Amar by hand as if it were an anti-poison.

“Is it really?” Amar weakly looks up and over the flames.

“No more raw flesh.” Georgie promises, encouraging the boy to take down sweetened warm sips of tea.

“…m-my….h-hero…” Abbey hiccups, and dare I say it, swoons?

Everyone is so unfairly rude to my beloved sashimi.

…But grilled fish collars are yummy too. Mmmm honey balsamic salmon is also a good flavor combo. This is also a good and acceptable offering.

The underlings all sigh in a sort of relief behind my back, but I shall excuse them for their ignorance and poverty. They’re just not ready for the greatness that is sashimi. It’s too new and brilliant for their tastebuds. I need to start on them, with kiddy sushi. Oh if only I had the rice and seaweed!

After the impromptu snack time and clean up, I instruct everyone to take me down to the dungeons despite their denials.

“Can you not stay out of trouble Rosalia?” Georgie chides, still cutting up more bits of fruit for dessert.

“B-but young miss. How?” Abbey brings up a good point.

“I don’t think you can get in normally? But I got out through the vents and tunnels the first time.” Amar raises his eyes in thought. Heartily munching when it comes to fruit and not raw cuts of fish.

While his favorite pomegranates are coming back into season, the kid easily chows down on any kind of fruit. Georgie easily keeping them coming from the refreshment cart. Figs. Sour Cherries. Prickly pears. Nectarines of every color. It’s not really a problem or anything, but there’s this one odd little thing I can’t help but notice.

The salt.

“Why do you eat it like that?” I ask. Watching as cherries and fleshy fruits top and roll themselves in sprinkles of sea salt before making their way down Amar’s or Georgie’s mouths.

“Hmmm? It tastes sweeter that way. Say ahh?” Amar aims and throws a slice of peach into my face.

First, you’re hit with saline on the tongue, the sweetness delayed. But then it’s even sweeter, not cloying, more floral, and even juicier. I already knew that, of course I do. As another person, I used to be quite generous with my salt, chili, lime, and tamarind. A lot of fun flavor combinations, lots of different fruit stalls and different cultures of shops all in one city alone. Let alone a world.

But no one here eats it that way.

“I was surprised too when I saw it more common than not on that raid trip, but it’s pretty good with some things. Yuna prefers to eat a lot of fruit that way too,” Georgie remarks, salting his cherries.

“M-may I try?” Abbey shyly requests from listening in, turning slightly pink.

To which Amar turns and plops another piece right into her slightly open mouth. She chews in both surprise and a slight hint of disappointment, before awkwardly smiling in thanks at Amar.

“It’s a little strange….” Abbey tries, meek eyes shifting elsewhere.

Hmmmm my little maid is the strange one. She’s been acting a bit odd lately? Was it the shock of the first time in a dungeon jail? Or is it perhaps something far worse….puberty!?

Well, only one way to find out. Process of elimination!

“I’ll knock first and see if I can get back in the dungeons just by being me, and if that doesn’t work we’ll sneak in through the vents. ” I simply say, waving around my privileges.

My servants sigh, while Amar cluelessly shrugs and finishes off the sweet snacks. But the funny part is that in the end my suggestion actually works.

“Let us through!” I go knocking down the right hall.

It of course does not work as easily as that. No walls open up and no guards even show. It stays as silent and peaceful as if there’s nothing there. As peaceful as a place can be with a toddler raising a fuss.

Behind me, I hear sighing again, most likely from Georgie. Abbey closely and nervously follows along, more than a little traumatized the last time she let me have my way. While Amar still does nothing but ride along, blinking up blankly in confusion.

“Ahem. I, Rosalia Ventrella, demand to be let through. ” I knock again, for that is how this usually works.

That and Georgie is probably too large to fit through the vents, while Abbey is getting there. Not that I think they’ll agree to sneaking in like that.

“Oh come on” I smack at the walls, trying to figure out where to unmagic or whatever this thing myself if I have to.

“….we can ask Vincent?” Amar weakly offers, but only after I tirelessly hit every stone in my reaching distance.

“Well where is he?” I huff and turn.

What’s is this? A side quest? Find this and that person to even get to the quest. All I want is to finally get some time to interrogate- ahem interview this nice lady on where she’s getting her nail polish from. Maybe more, if there’s marketing potential in it. I’m not a thug? She’ll be properly confiscated for spitting out info.

“Um, mud? The bath spring outside but with the hot sandy mud?” Amar answers, to the best of his poor memory.

Ah yes. Mud.

While I’m glad Vincent is fully enjoying himself for once, especially at a hot spring resort of all places. Getting a new hobby besides begging to die. However, I am beginning to suspect he has a spa addiction. Well, that’s a mood I suppose. Nothing like some good pampering to rest up.

“Rosalia, you can’t just burst into someone bath and-” Georgie starts to complain, following along my hurried little steps.

“I’m not, we’re in public. Or well as public as our quarters can be. ” I make to step outside, trotting along the pathways to where the extra warm sands are.

Such a lovely little resort, with all the privacy that money and status can afford. My employees are benefitting quite well by enjoying these along with me no? It more than makes up any first nights, or more, in the dungeons.

I’m not even asking for them to really get back to work, just a little favor.

“Vincent are you decent!” I ask across a screen to the section I guess him to be in. Hot sand is also a relaxing lay about.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!? Rosalia?!!!!!” a very Vincent voice screams.

I shall take his screaming as a no, and will respect his privacy. Oh ho ho ho I appreciate the fact that someone still knows shame.

“Okay. Clean up when you can, and then can you let us into my father’s dungeon.”

“By the gods of death no??? I don’t want to die by his hands?!” Vincent shrieks, still sounding shaken by my sudden arrival.

What? It’s like I’m sitting right next to him or anything. I’m just looming right outside this screen window, or well underneath. If he peeks out he may even see my short little head.

“You’ll die anyway. I just want to talk to the one called Cass.”

“Why?! She’s mean!” Vincent whimpers, sounding like he’s trying to bury himself back.

“A little girl time I suppose?” I wonder if I should just break in, just to make sure Vincent is safe. He’s not overheating in there is he?

Oh, but it would not do for I, a young proper lady, to intrude.

“Amar? Oh wait no Georgie! Georgie please go in and convince Vincent for me.” I ask the silent spectators of the male members of my entourage.

Before Georgie can even turn me down in that flat outright way of his, a messy clattering and clunking goes on behind the screen. The sounds of pure rushing panic.

“Wait! No- I”m-Im definitely not decent!” Vincent cries out, sounding mildly in pain another another crashing sound takes place.

“Uhhh, do you need some help?” my assistant worriedly offers.

“No! I mean, no-no thank you. Ack! Ouch, oh god no…I mean, I’m good!”

Somehow there are many sounds that don’t seem like they belong. A trumpet. A hiss. A propeller. But hey, what do I know of the finery of how Vincent likes his sand baths.

“You sure about that?” Georgie asks in response.

The flimsy doorway goes slamming open, Vincent half hazardly stumbling out, carrying his outer coat. His dark hair is a little damp, recovering slowly, and his pale flesh flushes easily with pink from the heat and steam. Maybe he was enjoying a drink with his relaxing lounge, for his eyes take a glaze and his face an even stronger flush upon glancing out into the open world.

“I’m good…now…” he falls a little silent, a little more than dazed, before quickly pulling himself together in almost a panic. ” Th-thank you. For offering I mean. Um hi!”

“Georgie, he sounds a tad drunk. Do help him. ” I understand and pity his state.

I did after all interrupt his downtime, and I’ve come to learn Vincent is the sort who needs a call in advance. As if to plan his every interaction. Ah yes the awkwardness of teenagers.

“I’m not-I didn’t drink or anything…” Vincent bashfully tries to deny, redding at perhaps getting caught.

“It’s fine, here let me.” Georgie offers a hand and as a young butler would, helps Vincent tie on his sloppily done clothes.

The poor thing though. Vincent freezes and flushes in shame, the entire time. It almost hurts to watch. Actually, it does hurt. In some odd second-hand embarrassment? Huh?

“Sorry about Rosalia. You don’t have to put up with her every sudden whim, but thank you.” Georgie jokes, smiling wryly at me as he works.

The second-hand embarrassment hits me once again when Vincent makes a strange dying sound, between a croak and a thank you. Eyes still very drunk, trying to play normal and failing.

But Georgie is a good sport and doesn’t mention it. Only tugs along Vincent with his arm and a shoulder to hang on to, helping the poor gangly older teen walk without falling. Wow how much did Vincent have to drink to get to this messed up state? And alone? That’s not very safe or healthy of him.

“Rosa, you’re very mean. But a little funny.” Amar says in passing.

Though I don’t know where that came from, I really don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or an insult. It sounded like a compliment from the laughter in his voice. Following along with a still awkwardly stiff Abbey, we make our ways back inside.

“Oh- err um. H-Here will do!” Vincent has us stop at another part of the building.

He struggles to right himself up. As if some great weight of drunkness keeps him from separating from Georgie’s shoulder but shame making it unbearable to stay on any longer. Face still flushes, a strange expression on his normally emo teenaged face. As if he were fighting a smile and an abstract scream at all once.

Amar giggles softly under his breath and I feel a nagging suspicion tickle at me.

I look back and forth at every person here, looking even more carefully. Completely ignoring the boring process of opening dungeon door number two and instead at the employees. Georgie laughing and comforting an awkward Vincent, saying it was all fine to the necromancer’s nerves and weak knees. Vincent himself, fumbling far more than usual. Words lost for exceedingly too long pauses at a time, pale goosebumps across the exposed peeks of his skin.

Even my little Abbey, slowly creaking to a halt with each of her movements. Her knuckles going a little white from clenching her skirts. Line of sight a little too focuses on something that’s not me.

Oh ho ho ho!

Is this…puberty!?!

I smack at Amar, silently hiding behind him and pointing at each and every one of these teenagers. Something that he helplessly smiles and nods at, much to my delightfully bad tastes.

Ahahahahahahahha! Oh. Oh…, my poor employees. Oh, this is going to be awful.

“Really now, it’s fine. You’re pretty light, don’t worry about it. ” Georgie laughs off Vincent’s very bad attempts to pry himself off, not with the way he’s swooning. Knees too weak to straight up just run away screaming down the hall, as Vincent’s dead inside expression tells me he wants to do.

My beauty regiments, and punishment, may have worked a little too well on my young assistant.

Soft looking clear skin, not too pale or sun-damaged in any way. Straight shiny brown hair, falling soft over warm honey nut cereal eyes with all the patience of a babysitter. Increasingly strong thighs and shoulders despite that baby face yet to mature. A little too plain, a lot too normal, but comforting. Very easy to call cute

I am so proud and fearful all at once at how Georgie is turning out. Oh, good job me!

“Oh. Good job weak useless one. You are perhaps not entirely useless. He is pretty in that young and soft way. Like a sand gerbil.” says a bound prisoner getting tortured.

“That’s not what we meant by speak?” croaks out one of the very tired looking guards.

“Oh right. Oh of course. Please go on with it. ” Cass offers, nodding with her head held up high.

The door to an iron maiden sort of coffin slams on her. Spikes and all.

“Oh my god?!!” Georgie screams.

“Your stupid torture device does not account for height. The points on this will kill anything above or below the right height. What information do you get from dead tall nobles or dead short peasants? What if you need to torture a midget? Then what? Do you make him tiny spikey coffin?” Cass somehow still manages to complain behind the horrible thing, very much alive and sounding more annoyed than anything.

I think I like her.

Two presiding guards sigh as they take notes. Another one shocked at the sight of us, calling for another hidden one to go ring a bell.

That better not be the Rosalia alarm. Either way I better act fast.

“Excuse me. May I have some words with the interrogate?” I politely ask from between the bars.

“…..” the guards slowly back away from me. Sometimes they yell strange codes. But mostly they seem to be preoccupied with bowing once and getting the hell away.

What am I? A liability waiting to happen? How rude.

“And another thing? Some of your bars are so wide even a chubby child could slip through without aid. Look. Right there they could easily go in and out from the side.” Cass kicks open the iron maiden, taking a gasp of fresh air.

Or well as fresh as a dungeon can get. It’s probably better than inside the more decorative than anything iron maiden. The sight of it practically has Abbey fainting again in the back there.

“Am I done? I know I said I preferred this over watching strange married couples but really? ” she looks around, asking up at the retreating guards.

“Cass, they’re hiding hendooné in the kitchens but they’re very small and not very sweet.” Amar runs right through the bars, his little frame more than skinny enough.

He pulls up to cut and undo the bindings on her hands, freeing her from what may have been an inconvenience rather than anything actually incarcerating.

“Ah then we shall go chill one in a stream and have it with feta, mint and a bit of tea.” she stretches her wrists with graceful movements, manicured hands on full display.

Such dull plain colors. Soft almost nude in tone, but just a hint of dark reddish-pink. Nail polish, shiny pretty nail polished nails.

“I think Rosa wants to play with you a bit though, she came all this way here?”

When Cass turns her head my way, as if merely glancing, the sounds of her earrings jingle. For a moment she raises a strong eye brow in questioning but respectfully bows with a neutral and polite smile.

“What service can this humble servant be of use for today, young child of this house?”

She is a very suspicious person really. And oddly too comfortable in the dungeons. I don’t think she’s particularly very powerful, but something about her keeps her surviving spikes and torture. Hidden cards to the power she’s revealed before. The trained way she speaks in particular only furthers the mystery.

“I like your nails.” I feel my vision zooming between the bars still.

Who cares about hidden pasts and mysterious powers. Give me your nail polish secrets!

“And your pants.” I also add on, maybe still hyper-focusing on the foreign things that may or may not make me money. If anything they’re an interest and convenience to me, and that’s good enough.

“This servant is afraid she cannot grasp what so pleases the young miss Ventrella to present properly. Mercy, this servent prays. Please, inspect the parts of this lowly one as the young miss sees fit. “she bows once more, rising closer to hold out her hands.

“Ooooooh” I maybe sparkle at nail polish. Glossy nail polish.

Before I can ask what products she uses or what they’re made out of, a strange rumbling shakes through the dungeon.

“Why?” Georgie sighs, rolling his eyes back even as two other maybe smitten teens somehow fall over him in shock and natural instinct.

“Because fishie,” Amar says as if that somehow made any damn sense.

Water starts rushing and flooding from certain pipes, some of them plain while other steaming hot. Legit tiny and pretty fish swimming in from the boiling pipes.

Ok then nevermind. It’s making some sense. Not really? What is causing all this? But we really should get out of here? Let’s take this outside?!

More rumbling shakes through and Cass nods her head quickly, calling for Amar to follow as she quickly picks me up to book it before the water reaches us. A burst of the wall seeps with a rush of water, two somewhat familiar screams riding down with it.

“Awesome coming through!!! Whooooopeeeeee!” floats Lukas, riding through the pipes apparently on what I assume to be stolen speed float.

For there is no way Gable would allow grampa to get away with this. Where did Lukas even come from?!

“Damn it damn it damn it I just wanted some watermelon!” whines babysitter number two, Yuna sitting pretty on said float with his maybe stolen fruit.

“See Cass, they do have your hendooné. Or watermelon? That’s what they’re called. ” Amar skips a bit as we run for it.

A little futilely since the water is catching up fast. Too fast really.

I wish I could say that somewhere along the line we were heroically rescued. Perhaps some cool well times moves got us on the float and we rode out to safety. We escaped just in the nick of time.

But no. We’re practically washed out of another tunnel-like sewer drainage, down little bumpy waterfalls. All the way outside to an even more isolated part of the resort bordering the untamed forests.

There Tamera lays on a resort chair, snoring away under a sun hat by the lazy warm waterfall. The very one we all fall. Ouch.

“That was fun! Oh wow everyone’s here! Look look look at all the hot fish I caught this year! HA! Amar! Rosa! I definitely beat both you combined!” Lukas exclaims, perfectly dry and happy on his float. An exasperated Yuna jumping off the dry land with the melon haul.

Excuse me as I go murder this child, then put a death warrant on him across all Ventrella controlled properties. Here Lukas, just float a little closer so I can-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!

What’s THAT doing here?!! What the fuck?! Bad doll! Very bad doll! How did Ponyo-Cora- Annabelle get here!!!!?

“Rosalia, please calm down. Please. Why. It’s just a doll.” Georgie pleads from where I somehow managed to climb and clamor all over his face.

“Did I miss a party?” Tamera wakes up drowsily from her nap.

“Effective torture, that mess.” Cass drags herself out the water, wringing her soaked clothes and hair.

“Eeeep u-um-um” Abbey stutters, floating along in fear, until Cass reaches in to pull her out.

“I should have stayed in the sand.” Vincent also makes no attempts to undrown himself, forcing the older woman to also reach in for his ass.

“What about my fishes? Look look look!” Lukas clamors around with no one to teach him a lesson, not even creepy obviously haunted dolls.

“Rosalia please let go of my face.” Georgie wetly tries prying me off.

Oh what a miserable day, no wait- a life. What misery I am passing. Nothing I can recite or recall. It’s all just too random. Where was any of this in the villainess guide? Nowhere! None!

“Does anyone have salt?” Yuna asks, already finding a rock to start chopping watermelons with a very wet and soaked Amar.

What?

Why is everyone looking at me?

Back away from my purse you ungrateful employees! I do not keep absolutely everything in there.

…Okay I do but not like that. No, I said back away!

“Georgie no, don’t put me down, it’s scary down there! Fine, take all my snacks just don’t leave me with Ponyo-Cora-Annabelle!!!” even I can hear myself screech.

When will my destruction flag events come up already? These unexpected events of my childhood are taking way too much out of me. I swear none of this I could have ever imagined before in the life of Rosalia.

But here we are I guess.

Might as well have a slice of watermelon. Chop chop. Yeah sure with some salt, tastes kinda funny but it does make it sweeter. Strange as it is around here.

Yes, I’ll be eating it on top of Georgie’s head. No one dare put me down. That’s an order!

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