Her childhood wasn't all doom and gloom. Before more people decided she truly was a cursed child, she even had a few friends.

One is a pretty girl from one of the distant branches of the Hundreis family, a fact that her maids had been displeased about. Kayra had made sure to remind them that Amelia is a child when she gets chances, and she appreciates her. Why should it matter so much anyway? It's not as though it harms anyone.

Amelia is not going to let her maids stop her from having friends, though. They're mean enough to her. They can't ruin everything. 

"Ovi!" Mila calls out, her hand warm with Kayra's. She waves excitedly at the other little girl, her bright orange hair reminding Amelia of some of the kittens that appear around the manor. 

"Mila!" The other girl, bolder than Amelia, leaves her guardian's side and pulls her into an excited hug. Their squeals are loud, and before long, they're charging through the public gardens that many noble families frequent together. They're not allowed to visit each other's houses, but neither girls care. This is where they met. It means more to play here.

Amelia likes having a nickname. It's just different enough not to be the name of the child the maids of her manor hate so much.

Kayra and Ovina's maid, Veronica, follows behind, unsurprised by their boisterous kids. 

The two girls crouch in a small thicket below some hydrangeas, giggling together as they hide from their maids.

They know where they are, but pretend not to, so the girls can have their fun.

"Hey, Mila," Ovi whispers, her arm hooked with the other girl's. Mila is careful to look her friend in the eyes, to not let her gaze drift down to the two daisies on Ovina's chest. She's a little jealous of them. Having so many petals must mean Ovi is very, very lucky. 

"Mm?" She hums back, tilting her head. 

"Did you hear? They say some boys and girls from the other families are going to meet us all soon," she whispers this with excitement. Ovi, unlike Mila, has already been allowed to go to parties.

Father has been adamant about not letting her go to any. She has a guess why. Some small part of her has come to terms with the fact that her father also believes her to be evil.

"Oh? I hope you have fun meeting them," her voice is smaller than she meant it to be. 

Ovi catches it, a little frown dimming her eyes. Emerald green. Deep and pretty. 

"Nu uh. I heard you're being allowed to go too. Lots of adults are talking about it, since you're one of the only Feistra kids!" Small hands grasp her shoulders. She shakes her, and Mila groans a little. 

They hush themselves for a second to 'keep their cover.'

Amelia feels a spark of hope. "Really? They specifically said me?"

"Well, I don't know another Feistra heir, do you?"

She didn't. Her aunt, a woman she doesn't care to remember, does not have any children. The Feistras are a small family, and spread far apart. It was a rare time for her to see any of her other family, as most preferred to live their own lives away from the influence of the Feistra name. 

There are some other kids, yes, but they're so far removed from the family that they would likely never have the right to the heir role.

So... that leaves her. The only daughter of the head of the Feistras.

They squeal loudly together when the realization finally hits her. 

The following party, held outside in one of the royal family's public greenhouses, is much larger than Amelia ever thought it could be. She had been dolled up in a light blue dress, covered in frills and lace that suited her small stature. Kayra had taken great care to put her hair in a delicate bun, several braids fed through to give a more elegant appearance.

Amelia realizes quickly that she may be a tad short for her age, if the others in her age group are anything to judge by. The fact irritates her a bit, but she forgets this when Ovi immediately grabs her.

She's introduced to several other Hundreis. It's not entirely pleasant. Most avoid her, and some give her nasty looks. There are so many of them, too. Unlike the Feistras, with her the only child in attendance, there could easily be fifteen of the family's children. Many have vibrant shades of orange hair, with varying shades of eyes. 

Most move away when they approach. Some nod in greeting but don't bother to introduce themselves.

Their whispering is the worst of it.

This alone is enough for Mila not to want to meet the other strangers here.

Ovi huffs, turning up her nose as she marches Mila away from the more hostile children. "Ugh. What jerks. It's not your fault, Mila. I guess our families have some old food or something."

"Um, I think you mean feud..."

"Who cares? It doesn't matter anyway."

They find a spot to sit, a small table well away from the others. There are four seats. The two girls sit across from each other. 

"You're not gonna get all quiet now are you?" Ovi asks, patting down her green dress. It's less frilly, Ovi doesn't have the tolerance to keep things clean. Her maid accounts for that fact. 

"Why would I?" Mila is not sulking.

Ovi stares at her with all the intensity of a nine-year-old gremlin. 

Mila glances away after a minute, flushed. Okay. She's sulking. 

"Whatever, I don't need them to like me anyway."

Ovi grins, bright, unreserved. 

"Yup! You got me anyway. I'm the best Hundreis there is."

"No, you're not," A boyish tone cuts in, taunting in delivery. 

Both girls turn at the voice. Mila is confused. Ovi looks more annoyed. 

"Ew, go away. Don't you have your own friends? Go do whatever it is stinky boys do," She flicks her hand dismisively. 

The boy is a darker version of Ovina. Darker orange hair, closer to the deep colors of bronze than the amber that is Ovi's. They share the same curls. His eyes are the same shade of deep green, though somehow more mischievous. Unlike Ovi, he has a large smattering of freckles over his face, his skin slightly flushed as though he's been running. His smile is bright and wide, revealing his teeth.

Her eyes flicker briefly. His flower is also a daisy, but the orange of a carrot instead of soft white like Ovina's. 

He hops into one of their free seats. "Don't be such a hog. You're supposed to be nice to your super cool big brother."

Ovi snorts, arms crossed. She is the picture of unimpressed. "Not cool," she grumbles, petulant. 

The boy ignores her in favor of reaching a grubby hand Mila's way. It seems he had been sneaking from the treat table, if the lingering icing was any indicator. Mila shakes it, uncaring of that, glad instead for his friendliness. 

"Ivan Hundreis! You're Amelia Feistra, right? You like candy?"

Amelia, a tad amazed by his bright smile, nods once. He pulls some candies from his pockets, sharing one with her. He refuses to give one to a screeching Ovina, laughing as she smacks his arm. He fends off her vicious attack by turning his back to her. 

"Call me Mila."

"Mmkay," he grabs his sister's fist, eyes narrowed with amusement. "Hope you like a little trouble. That's all Vina is."

"Who are you calling trouble?! I'm not the one being run away fron the table for being a fatty mc fat fat-"

Mila laughs a bit, enjoying the lemon burst on her tongue. Ovina grows more annoyed with her brother.

She has two friends now, both with daisies that haven't lost a single petal. It feels like safety. 

She doesn't meet the other families that day, but when she looks around, she catches impossibly bright blue eyes, somehow reminiscent of the sky. 

The boy waves once, smiles, and turns away, speaking with the others around him. He has pretty black hair, so dark it seems to suck the color away from the area around him. 

"Hey, what did you just-" Ovi's voice is loud.

"Shoulda been paying better attention, brat!" Ivan snarks, laughing obnoxiously.

She doesn't see his flower. She wonders who he is, but before she can ask Ovi, she's brought back to their squabbling. Ivan had thrown some candy that was now stuck in her hair, and he had made a point to put candy in Mila's hand as well. The betrayal of framing.

No point trying to deny, when Ovina is mad, there's no rationalizing out of it.

The casualties of war.

She makes a point to put the candy in Ivan's hair later as revenge.

The end of the party comes too soon. Mila's father, surprisingly, is the one to pick her up, carrying her to the carriage. His face is impassive as ever, but his body is warm. He smells nice. She savors the moment, hands curled into his dress shirt. She pats it out when she realizes she may wrinkle it, not wishing to upset him. 

Back then, he'd still had six petals left. 

"Father?"

"Mm?" His voice rumbles. She sets her head on his shoulder. He doesn't push her off, so she stays. 

"Who was the boy with black hair and blue eyes? No one else there looked like him."

Vineil pauses, eyes meeting hers. His expression is still unreadable, but his eyes flashed with something scary. She regrets asking.

He awkwardly pats her back, just once.

"No one to concern yourself with, Amelia."

She's not sure, but she thinks he had been trying to soothe her. She nods against his shoulder once and resolves to never be near that boy again. He can't be good if her father says such a thing.