“Thanks to the gods that you are so fucking loveable,” Cinder said. Estell giggled and turned the hug back. The room filled with laughter as the women hurried to clean the mess they left at their event. As Estell fixes the chairs Cinder knocked down from her dance with the bird, she turns to Beth. 

“I don’t know what I did wrong. I had everything perfect: the shape, the proportions, the words. All of it was up to standard…wasn’t it?”

Beth chuckled. “Was it?”

“I mean…”

“You were perfect, and that’s your problem.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“Estell, my dear. Perfect is what it was, and this,” She gestured to the now burnt rosemary, “is the result of that. You made a real imitation of bac-king. That’s amazing; that’s a feat that not even entry-level puppeteer mages could do on their first spell.” Estell blinked as she stared at Beth. 

“You wanted to learn imitation magic, right?”

“Yes, but I made a mess.”

“You made a show, honestly,” Cinder said. 

“And that’s what imitation magic is: a visual showcase of what lives in your wonderful, chaotic head. In your case, you just happen to know so much about bac-king that you could realistically recreate one.” 

“Oh…Oh! So, it does mean I did great! I knew reading the ‘encyclopedia and collection of Havean’s fantastical species’ back to back for four months straight would come in handy!” Estell said. 

“Oh, that explains why you went through the whole winter season in your room,” Cinder said. Estell didn’t reason as she talked to herself, excitably, with her fingers. Cinder was about to call out before she felt Beth’s hand on her shoulder. 

“Let her have it. She deserves this victory,” she said.

Cinder chuckled. “Sorry about your room.”

She shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I probably won’t think about it before Olivia comes into my room to nag me about it.”

“Olivia,” Cinder sighed. “I got to find her to apologize about my behavior earlier.”

“Oh, what did you do?”

“Take something on her that wasn’t her fault in the first place.” 

Beth stared at Cinder, who wondered if she was getting a lecture, before Beth flashed a small smile. “Then go,” she added. “I’ll handle the rest.” Cinder smiled and squeezed Beth before venturing out of the room. 

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Olivia and Mary's rooms were on the bottom floor, near the main door leading to the massive flower-filled outdoor garden. While both had separate rooms, they had a door leading to each other's rooms. They were always together during Cinder's young years in her dreadful old house; however, it took a bit longer than it should have for her to realize they were lovers. In her defense, the love and physical touch between friends and lovers looks very similar to her. So, her slowness was justifiable…for her. Also, it was a no-brainer that Cinder found Olivia nested on the couch in Mary's room, sewing a dress together. Cinder coughed to grab Olivia's attention as she stood nervously at the door. 

"Olivia?" Cinder asked.

"I'm listening," Olivia said. 

Cinder shifted in her spot. "May I come in?"

"You're already inside, my love."

"I mean, can I come closer to you?"

Olivia looks up. "Cinder, you're in no trouble."

"You say that, but I feel in trouble, so."

Olivia sighed before patting a spot aside from her on the couch. Cinder carefully takes the spot. Olivia started back to sewing as Cinder stayed quietly. She looked around the room. Mary was indeed in the color pink. Pink walls, pink carpet, pink chairs, and pink bedding. Mary was always like that; her femininity was a true virtue for her, and she never missed the chance to flaunt it or the opportunity to help someone else flaunt it. It's the only reason Cinder could manage to do makeup on herself: if she didn't have Mary's help, she reckoned she could never pick it up. Olivia is different; she is relatively simple in her appearance and never finds care for the glamour Mary uses. Her hair was always in an updo, and her clothes were in muted colors. Yet, she looked like she was in control of the world and how it moves; Cinder used to believe that Olivia could take down a mountain by how she carried herself. She was professional and mature, never letting words and meaningless thoughts harm her. So mature, Cinder used to forget she was human too: emotional, brutal, funny, crazy, and filled with life and love…she was human. Cinder forgot that; she still forgets it sometimes. She started to bite on her nails again.

"You know," Olivia said, "I'm not mad about that."

Cinder stopped. "You should be."

"But, I'm not. I'm just worried," Olivia grabbed Cinder's hand.

"I know that, but-"

"No buts. I understand why."

"You do? How?"

Olivia stroked her hand. "War does things to people." Cinder opened her mouth, but she closed it. Of course, she thought Olivia thought it was from the war. What else would be it? How could she know Cinder was deathly afraid of repeating the past life when she couldn't explain she died and come back? How can she even dare tell Olivia she died in her life before she could ever say goodbye? Pay back all the sacrifices that Olivia and Mary made for a small, pathic child who hated herself every waking day? The failure of the promise to be together forever? She felt Olivia's hand whipping away the tears falling onto Cinder's cheek. Olivia smiled as she kissed her forehead. "Perhaps there is more to it, but you are scared to say it aloud. However, I don't need to know it, nor should you feel pressure to reside it, but you should know that all I want from you is to love yourself a bit more."

"You want me to kiss a mirror?" Cinder chuckled. 

"That'll be a start. I love you, and nothing will change; I can handle it even when you snap at me. I mean, I know your moods when you were thirteen."

"I was a bastard."

"And you're our bastard. So relax, and stop nagging me to accept an apology for nothing."

"Fine." 

"Nowhere," She handed the dress over to Cinder. "I want to see if you've been practicing your seamanship. You promised me you would."

"Pardon my language, Olivia, but shit."

Thus, the chaotic day was concluded as the already abused pinkie finger experienced another pain as Cinder yelped from a baby needle.