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viasatellite · 2 years ago

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title: asymptote summary: “Hmm…maybe all you need is a cuddle.” Of cuddles and closeness that never quite reaches.// DomiNoé. Oneshot. notes: Summary line is from a poem I can never quite finish writing so it inspired this whole thing instead. Why not start the year right with some Dominoe angst?____________________

asymptote

She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to it, really. She gets to stay by his side, and he keeps her close, closer with each passing day. Noé doesn’t lie, and when he says she's important to him, she gleefully believes him. He will always be there for her, and she convinces herself that’s enough.

But moments like this, she falters. The sight of his peaceful sleeping face, his limbs sprawled about as he continues on with his dreams lying against the hard floor, his hair, an adorable mess, and his sleepy little sighs. She wants to know what he dreams about, what he wakes up for. She wants it all, to be selfish, and tell him to open his eyes.

She crouches down, passing the back of her fingers down his cheek. She’s admired him for so long, but the rush of emotions every time she sees him, touches him, remains unabated. She can barely hide it.

“Noé.”

His eyes flutter open, still heavy with sleep. He looks up at her, blinking.

“Domi…?”

She brushes away some wayward hair off his face and pinches his cheek.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

He shoots up then, turning to her in surprise. She loves it when she can bring out such a reaction from him, eyes wide, mouth gawking open, as if he was only seeing her for the first time.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, Jeanne’s out with your human friend, and I thought you’d be lonely,” she teases, smiling knowingly.

He takes the bait.

“Why are they out together?”

It stings the way he sounds alarmed, his eyebrows knitted together as if the whole affair bothers him. She reads him too well. Sometimes it’s to her own detriment.

Getting up, she leans her cheek against a finger. “Hmm…I heard it was a date.”

“A…date?!?”

She almost laughs at the sight of his face, curious, shocked, anguished.

But her smile recedes as soon as she sees his expression harden, blanking.

“Ah…I see,” he mutters, sitting on the bed.

She swallows, not realizing it’ll affect him this much. She’s already had an inkling that he might have his eyes on Jeanne, that over the years of his naivety and curiosity over the littlest things, he might have finally found someone worth more than a mere moment of fleeting interest.

She has dreaded this day. His heart has been captured, and it’s not in the cup of her hands.

She chuckles still, tapping him on the arm as she takes the space beside him on the bed.

“Don’t despair, mon chéri, I’m here to keep you company.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not sad.”

“Oh, really?” she mocks half-heartedly.

“It’s just…”

He sighs before facing her, now smiling.

“I’m happy you’re here, Domi. I missed you.”

It’s a little past sundown, the vestiges of sunlight barely enough to light the whole space. She wonders if in this dappled corner of the room, he can still see her face, flushed with cautious delight at his words. She knows what he means, and yet her heart foolishly prances around.

“Your face is red. Are you okay?”

He leans in as she pushes herself back, extending her arms against his chest.

“Of course, I am!”

Regaining her composure, she sits up, edging a bit farther from him.

“Anyway, you woke up so late!”

“I was dreaming there was a tower of tarte tatin in front of me and I was eating all of it,” he drools.

“And how do you manage to still fall off the bed after all these years?” she continues, chuckling.

For a moment, her mind flashes back to those happy but distant nights from the past, when things were still simple and innocent, when all she cared about was spending time with him and Louis, and the three of them would sleep together in a warm, cozy bed while the rain pelted down outside. Perhaps it was a warning, of the impending tragedy, of the looming pain, but she was just a child. She couldn’t have known.

He falls silent for a while, and the solemn look on his face tells her he’s reminiscing the past just like her, the history that still haunts them both, and a death that tied them together. She breathes slowly, letting the moment pass.

Finally, a hearty smile dawns on his face. “Because I was dreaming!”

She breaks out laughing then, reaching and sweeping some of his hair to the side.

“Hmm…maybe all you need is a cuddle.”

“Cu…ddle?” he replies, tilting his head.

She grins sheepishly, loving his yet another baffled response. Oh, she can teach him so many things in this world…they can learn all about the intricacies of life together, go through countless miseries if need be, if only he’ll give her the chance.

She takes off her shoes and tackles him to the bed.

“Yes, like this, a cuddle.”

She lays her head atop his chest, her hand slung around his waist. She clings to him, wishing she had a reason to stay like this for a while.

Except she doesn’t, so she lifts her body off him and looks at him, his face seemingly still frozen in confusion.

“I said you need to be cuddled in your sleep so you don’t keep falling off the bed, dummy.”

He gets up then and with a quick wrestle of his arm, she finds herself rolled over, Noé on top of her, hands on either side of her face, looking as surprised as her. His expression then softens, and he lies beside her, pulling her to him as he wraps an arm around her waist.

She has her ear pressed against his chest, and she’s not sure if it’s his heart or hers that she hears thumping.

“What…what are you doing?” she asks nervously.

“A cuddle.”

She feels his hold tighten, and then, a gentle squeeze.

“This is so nice, Domi. You’re so soft like a pillow.”

She hates that to him, it all just seems to be a harmless experiment, a curious exploration of something he hadn’t known before, when here she is, ready to melt in his embrace and never let go.

Hesitantly, she moves her arm, slides it up his back, and presses him closer to her, her fingers clutching his shirt as she adjusts her body and tucks her face under his chin.

“You idiot.”

He grins, and she wonders if being this close is a curse. She’s too close to him; he just can’t see her.

…

Fin.

#vanitas no carte #noe x dominique #dominoe #dominique de sade #noe archiviste #memoir of vanitas #the book of vanitas

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linkemon · 2 months ago

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Qui vivra verra (Vanitas x Reader x Noé Archiviste)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

ᴍᴀɴᴏɴ, ᴀ ᴍᴀɪᴅ ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]'ꜱ ʀᴇꜱɪᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴏʙꜱᴇʀᴠᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴜɴꜰᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴍɪꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴡᴏ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ᴍᴇɴ ᴡʜᴏ ꜱᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ʟɪꜰᴇ, ʙʀɪɴɢɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇᴍ…

— Miss [Reader]! — Manon called, trying to sound discreet.

She looked around at the crowd of shoppers, trying not to forget any bags. A hat, an umbrella, a new set of bows and more… She congratulated herself sarcastically on the last package she had left in the store. She didn’t have time for that now. A random carriage whizzed past her, nearly taking her life. The loud clatter of hooves on the cobblestone street mingled with the din. The maid anxiously made her way to a side street, wiping her brow. And, to make matters worse, she was hungry.

This was how it had to end. She always fell for the idea that the young lady would only be gone for a moment this time. It was never a moment! She would take her eyes off her to take care of something and she would be gone. She liked her job but sometimes the running around in panic was too much for her. Of course, the person concerned always reassured her that she was fine but who knew what would happen next time? In Altus, no one would probably dare to threaten her but in Paris things were different.

[Reader] worked as a sort of behind-the-scenes diplomat, traveling between Altus and Paris. She didn’t act officially like her cousin, Lord Ruthven. She threw banquets, introduced influential people and vampires, spread gossip and covered up the little things that got in the way of peace. Manon was well aware that her little lady, though she tried to stay within her safe circles, could one day find herself in danger. All because of her cousin, who had somehow enlisted her through her parents after his apprentices had failed him. She sensed that while [Reader] was very devoted to the cause (against her will but still), Lord August certainly wasn’t reciprocating. He never sent anyone to protect her, as he certainly could have done with his influence. It was true, though, that whenever anyone mentioned it, the little lady protested loudly, much to the maid’s chagrin.

— Oh no — Manon swore not very quietly — it’s that quack again!

— Oh no, it's that witch again! — Vanitas mocked her.

She could have expected that the young lady would somehow end up in his company. She had talked about him and his companion with count Parks Orlok's employees. While it was hard not to at least know the Archiviste family, Vanitas was something of an enigma to her. His whims contradicted the natural behaviour of people. The fact that he interfered in other people's affairs aroused reluctance.

She looked Vanitas up and down. What did her little lady see in him? Black hair and blue eyes. He might be handsome but that was the end of Manon's list of positive traits. Not only was he human but also crazy!

— You could try to get along for once — [Reader] sighed.

The woman shivered slightly. A cold wind swept across the street. Vanitas wasted no time in taking off his black coat with a sweeping, exaggerated movement. He threw it over the lady's shoulders, giving her his trademark flirty smile. He then discreetly stuck his tongue out at the maid. If there were times when Manon had a sincere desire to use her vampire skills, this was one of them. She glanced at the young lady's gentle smile and, gritting her teeth, held back the imminent vision of murder.

— Where is Monsieur Archiviste? — asked the maid, looking toward the Hotel Chouchou.

It wasn't a very subtle change of subject but she couldn't think of anything better.

— Noé overslept. We had a rough night — the doctor said.

They probably got into some trouble again. If she knew life, she'd hear about it somewhere soon.

— Then we won’t wake him up. — [Reader] pulled the sealed envelopes out of her small bag. — I wanted to formally invite you two to the party.

[Reader]'s lack of use of the title monsieur did not escape Manon's notice. How much had she missed? After all, they hadn't known each other that long. She was most worried about them dragging [Reader] into their complicated affairs. The young lady's parents had placed their trust in her care for her. How could she possibly face them if she failed?

— The last party we went to, ended in a scandal — laughed Vanitas.

Manon felt her eye twitch involuntarily with anger. To be so familiar with her little lady…

— It won't be anything major. I'm inviting mostly humans and a few assimilated vampires. I don't think you'll get in trouble for it — the hostess assured.

Of course, she wasn't going to make them realize what an honor it was to be invited. The maid sighed loudly to herself. They probably wouldn't realize it themselves.

— Then we will definitely come!

— Where are we going? — Noé’s sleepy voice reached the gathered ears.

Dressed entirely in white, except for a black shirt, he was blinding in the sunlight. The sun seemed to reflect off his impeccably clean top hat. Whenever Manon saw him next to the quack, she wondered how two such different people could possibly put up with each other.

Archiviste rubbed his sleepy eyes, curious about the situation. Murr jumped out from behind his legs, a cat as snow-white as his master. His thick paws allowed him to get in front of [Reader] in a few agile leaps. She took him in her arms, adjusted his purple bow and began to stroke him rhythmically.

— Who is the most beautiful?

— Meow — Murr replied. Whether it was a question, an affirmation or a denial, there was no way to tell.

This was the only part of the strange group that the maid had no objections to. Fortunately, he was just a cat and kept out of trouble.

— Are you throwing a party? — Noé asked, reading the invitation.

There was a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

— Exactly. Vanitas said you'd come. I hope you'll confirm that. I'm sure you know a few people who'll be showing up. Dominique de Sade, first of all — [Reader] said.

— Domi will be there? — Archiviste brightened visibly — and maybe tarte tatin?

— We'll add it to the menu just for you. — [Reader] smiled. — Now, if you'll excuse me, I think it's time for us to go. Otherwise, Manon's going to be crying her eyes out with impatience. — With that, she looked at the maid reproachfully.

She sadly placed Murr on the pavement, handed Vanitas back his coat and turned back the way she had come.

The young lady might have missed the googly eyes look Noé gave her as they left. Manon had lived long enough to know that it wasn’t just a vision of a future dessert.

Manon remembered her first attempts at eavesdropping. At the very beginning of her job, when she hadn't yet fully understood how the world worked and had been reluctant to invade other people's privacy. It wasn't that the young lady didn't know her maid was listening to her conversations. She just assumed it was rare. Rarely than it actually was.

— Beautiful sunset, isn't it?

— Oh! It's you...— [Reader] turned her head back to the Parisian view.

Manon didn’t need to see young lady to hear in her voice that this wasn’t the man she expected to see here. It was Vanitas who was wandering around the high places. Uninvited, most of the time. He was particularly fond of the clock tower. It had been built near the estate long before the maid had started working here. The previous owners had neglected it and it had slowly fallen into disrepair. [Reader] had refused to have it renovated, saying she preferred it as it was. So the gray stone was covered in ivy and some of the stained glass had fallen out in the heavy winds. Fortunately, the guests always found it an interesting change, not thinking about it as a ruin.

— It’s certainly a perfect party weather — [Reader] said.

She swung her legs slowly over the precipice. The back of her heavy dress rested on the stone floor. It wasn't exactly a refined position to sit in. Especially for the hostess of the upcoming party.

Noé joined her, keeping a respectful distance.

— I came to thank you. — The man scratched the back of his neck in uncertainty.

— Was the tart that tasty? — [Reader] joked.

Several pieces were sent to the Chouchou Hotel a few days before the party.

— No! I mean yes! That's not the point...— Archiviste was confused. — It's about how you, miss... I mean you... how you saved us last time.

So they didn't know each other that well yet, Manon decided. If he still wasn't comfortable enough to use only her first name, it wasn't a total tragedy. But she feared Vanitas had no such scruples.

— It's nothing. I'm glad you made it out okay.

It was a situation that scared Manon. Not only had she lost sight of the young lady but she had also walked straight into danger. Of course, [Reader]'s vampire skills weren't just for show. The malnomen-infected patient had been defeated and cured before the disease turned him into a beast. However, from what the maid had managed to find out, it turned out that this wasn't always possible. Unrestrained bloodlust brought out the worst instincts.

There was a moment of silence. [Reader] gazed at Paris, illuminated by the golden glow. The workday was just ending. Parisians were closing their shops to go home. Except for the street lamps, who were slowly illuminating the area with hundreds of lights. A gentle wind caressed the crowns of small trees every now and then, heralding a clear night sky. Carriages sped here and there, carrying passengers. Several of them were approaching the residences. Ladies dressed in heavy and expensive outfits rode with gentlemen equipped with top hats and walking sticks.

— I beg your pardon — Noé hesitated — but you look distressed.

His violet eyes expressed deep concern.

— You can say that. — She began to pick at the end of her snow-white glove. — I wouldn't tell anyone that but you're a close friend of mine so...

— A close friend? — the Archiviste asked.

It was as if the information was surprising and yet appropriate. A small smile spread across his face. Manon could bet from his voice alone that he was blushing.

— With my connections, it's hard to find friends who aren't interested solely in what I can give them. That's why I was so happy when I met you and Vanitas.

The maid tilted her head thoughtfully. The young lady believed it deeply but she had seen her own way over the years.��Putting aside the odd romantic twists, was this acquaintance truly selfless?

— What’s the problem? — Noé asked.

— There is someone who makes my heart beat faster with joy — the woman began.

— That's… that's wonderful — the Archiviste said quietly.

One look at his face would have been enough to tell he didn't entirely think this was a great thing but [Reader] continued to stare out into the setting sun.

—...but he's already in love with someone and even though I'm aware of it, I still delude myself that maybe I can change something — she sighed longingly. — I suppose I should want him to be happy but it weighs on my soul when I look at it.

— I wouldn't give up so easily if I were you. — The vampire grabbed her hand, as if that would emphasize the weight of his words. — Perhaps one day he will notice your feelings and understand them.

There was a moment of silence as the woman seemed to consider his words.

— You know what? I think you're right. Thank you, Noé. — She gave him a gentle smile. — Oh, wait, I think you have some leftover tart here.

Archiviste could have sworn his heart stopped beating the moment her fingers rested near his lips. He stared into [Reader]'s face. For a moment she was close enough that he could count every speck of sunlight in her eyes. The sunset surrounded her in a gilded halo and the thought occurred to him that if angels really did exist somewhere, she must be one of them. He regretted not eating a dozen tarts to cover himself with more crumbs. Perhaps then they could stay in that position for just a second longer. But that was not to be. The silence was broken.

Manon made sure her heavy boots were heard early enough. Long enough for the couple to move away from each other.

— My lady, it’s time — the maid announced, glancing discreetly at the vampire.

— The guests will be here soon, it’s time for us to go — [Reader] said, standing up awkwardly, lost in thought.

Noé remained in the clock tower for a long time.

Manon sometimes regretted that her young lady was not in the same situation as Dominique de Sade. She, too, was burdened with a number of responsibilities due to her background. And yet, her family gave her choices in many matters. Although it must be admitted that her stubborn nature played a large role here. This was reflected in her outfit today. Even in such a situation, she refused to wear an evening gown, contenting herself with her ceremonial uniform.

The maid maneuvered deftly among the guests, passing glasses of champagne around the rose garden. She quietly downed one. She was surprised at how thirsty she was.

— I thought you’d give up — Dominique said, taking a sip of her drink.

— I could say the same about you. — [Reader] looked at the woman out of the corner of her eye.

A soft laugh answered her, barely hidden by the lights of the lanterns. There was a nasty note to it, but what else could she expect?

— I admit I was close to giving up but someone talked me out of it. — The hostess stared straight ahead.

— Hmmm... I don't think it's a wise choice but I can't blame you for doing the exact same thing.

It wasn't hard to guess that Dominique's chosen one was Noé. He was the only man she had allowed to be this close to her, outside of her family. It didn't take Manon long to find out that they had spent a lot of time together as children, along with their twin Louis.

— What do you see in him? — De Sade tilted her head in thought.

— He's like a storm — [Reader] replied after a moment. — Most people, when they see a storm, run away from it. Because it's strong. Violent. It means trouble. And yet there's something fascinating about it. You can try to run but sooner or later you'll run out of breath and then it'll catch up with you. The only problem with it is that it's unpredictable and you may not have time to enjoy it.

Manon sighed quietly. So there was no turning back. If the young lady was able to admit it out loud, it had to be serious.

— Some people prefer a breeze to storms. Because it's gentle. Even if it may seem like it's not present, it's still there. It cools you down on difficult days and everyone likes it. Its problem is how many fans it has. — Dominique finished her glass. — I wonder how you'll handle your storm...

— I thought you had sided with Jeanne long ago — [Reader] said.

Her rival seemed to have Vanitas' heart in a tight grip. And interestingly, although, as Bourreau claimed, she didn't want him at all, she couldn't push him away either.

— Don't get me wrong. I'm not taking sides. Because to be honest... I hate both of you. I want to see who comes out on top in this fight. Because then... maybe there's still hope for someone like me...

Her gaze involuntarily wandered to Noé, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere in the crowd. Manon knew that if her young lady hadn't been entirely aware of who the young de Sade's chosen one was up until now, she had to find out now.

Dressed in white as always, he stood out from the other guests. The lanterns that had been placed that morning seemed to reflect their light off his clothes. The lights hanging from the trees only enhanced the effect. He wandered among the lush rose bushes, accosted by various guests one after another. With a polite smile, he nodded without interest, only to leave them a moment later. He was looking for someone. And it certainly wasn't Domi, who was staring at him. But once he came across her, he couldn't leave her.

His real wanted woman was already far away. With a deft movement she put her glass on one of the empty trays and then slowly joined the dancers.

Vanitas, as usual, was a stark contrast to his acquaintance. Dressed in navy blue and black, he melted into the darkness of the night. If it weren't for the lights, he would probably disappear completely, except for his oh-so-human blue eyes.

— Excuse me! — [Reader] deftly took Vanitas’ hand just before the next dance began.

Since Jeanne wasn't at the party, she could at least take advantage of it.

— Oh! I've been deprived of my partner, what do I do now? — the man exclaimed dramatically, earning laughter from several guests around him.

Soft piano music drifted through the garden again. The man pulled [Reader] gently toward him by the waist. At times like this, she could at least try to fool herself that she had a chance of winning. After all, he seemed to be smiling sincerely. His steps were light but confident. The soft jingle of his earring measured out the time. Strands of hair tied with a ribbon swirled with them, blocking her view every now and then.

— You're quite the dancer. You must have charmed all my guests and I was supposed to be the star of the evening! — [Reader] said with mock sadness.

— What can I do that everyone notices my genius and extraordinary beauty? — Vanitas rolled his eyes theatrically.

He suddenly dipped her. For a moment she felt like she was going to fall but a strong hand caught her by the waist and lifted her back up. He smiled wickedly.

— That was very mean, monsieur Vanitas.

— All's fair in dance and war, right, modemoiselle [Reader]?

— I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be love and war...

— Perhaps. — Vanitas smiled mysteriously.

Did that sentence have a deeper meaning? Or was she just trying to find a second meaning in it? It was so hard to read anything from it.

He came as close as he had ever been before. Only to pull away to a safe distance. He was definitely a storm. Unpredictable.

— [Reader]! — Archiviste awkwardly pushed his way through the dancing couples.

The fleeting moment was like a soap bubble. It burst irrevocably under a gentle pressure.

— Noé, didn’t anyone teach you any manners? — Vanitas asked sarcastically. — [Reader] is busy right now.

— We need to talk — the vampire stated firmly.

He looked concerned. As if something was weighing on his heart. The woman looked at him, still spinning, although slower than before. If this was about matters of the heart, she didn't have the strength to listen to it. What else could it be about? She had finally had a good time this evening. She wanted to return to carefree oblivion.

— Wait for your turn — replied Vanitas, dancing away with his partner.

Manon put the tray of glasses aside as soon as she saw the young lady start toward a separate, secluded part of the garden. What could this Archiviste possibly want with her?

The maid peered cautiously from behind the rosebushes. The young lady stood in semi-shadow, her shocked face a sign of trouble. That fact alone filled Manon with anger.

—...because we wanted to get information about the next bearer of the curse. That was how it was at first but now I know you better and...

She wanted to say: Didn't I tell you, my lady? She had expected that it might come to this. However, her lady was very happy about this acquaintance and in this house there was not always room for free decisions. So she allowed her to make this mistake. Maybe this naive faith had infected her as well. The limit of selfish acquaintances had to end sometime. Or at least that's what she thought. Now she regretted not reacting earlier.

— I was a fool to think that someone who didn't care about my status had finally appeared. — [Reader] wiped away a tear forming in the corner of her eye. — It always ends this way. — She looked up, sniffling. — But why when Vanitas had just...

The unfinished sentence hung in the thick air. Probably because the man in question had entered sight. He looked furious.

— You always have to ruin everything, don’t you, Noé!? — he asked, words dripping with venom.

— I didn't ruin anything. I just told the truth — the vampire stated firmly as the human grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

With his strength he could have easily thrown him off but he didn't. He just held the tugging hands in place.

— You can't take advantage of others like that. — Anger flashed in Archiviste's eyes. — Not when she…

It was the image of jealousy. With good motives, Manon said. It was the jealousy of someone who wanted the best for the person they loved. But it didn't change the situation in any way. He had also cheated on the young lady.

— We have reason to believe that the bearer of the curse is somewhere on the party grounds…— Vanitas began.

— I don’t care — [Reader] said quietly.

— We’re trying to…— Noé joined in.

— I don't care! — [Reader] shouted. — Get out of here, both of you!

Manon had had enough of this. The sight of her little lady falling to her knees in helplessness was enough. She sobbed bitterly. The heavy dress spilled out in a wave among the dark grass. She looked like a bright flower, ready to bloom in a garden full of roses. She wanted to shield her from this evil.

The fact that the maid was partly the reason for the two intruders' visit tore at her insides. They had come with her in mind. Had she ever felt this angry before? Had she ever been this hungry? She had heard about the famous parade before. But it was one thing to hear it and another to experience it.

Music surrounded her. So beautiful that she couldn't describe it in words. The notes flowed from every direction, urging her to do one thing.

Kill them all!

Colourful figures were trailing one after another in a long procession. The twisted faces did not disgust her at all. They seemed to be urging her on, although they said nothing. A circus performer with balls, a shadow on stilts, a ballerina with a bunch of colorful balloons. Everyone held hands and danced.

She watched them, fascinated. Glass grew from under her fingers. Crystal covered her toes. Were they shoes? They seemed to dig into her feet. Was it a cage? A massive structure surrounded her. It resembled a huge, ornate cloche. It suited her, she decided. Pretty flowers should stand under cloches. It was the only way to protect them from pests.

She was both in the garden and at the merry parade. She wanted to go but something kept stopping her from grabbing the hand of anyone in the procession. She was furious. She could dance! All she had to do was touch the fingers… They ran away again. She shook her head. Was that blood? She was so hungry… Like she hadn’t eaten in ages. Screams appeared for a moment between the beautiful notes. The surroundings seemed to ripple and mix. She was here and there at the same time. Had some glass just broken? She wanted so badly to grab the hand and join the fun…

— Manon, you have to snap out of this — the familiar voice seemed to come from far away. Someone was shaking her but she couldn’t even tell who.

The falsetto appeared suddenly. The instruments seemed to be scattered under the pressure of something that could not be described. A strange light broke through the parade. As if someone had torn a curtain and let the morning into the room.

— I give you back your true name. You are a Cendrillon, encased in crystal! — The voice seemed to echo. As if it were bouncing off a thousand mirrors and shattering each one.

She was standing in the middle of an empty room. She was holding a glass slipper in her hand. The hazy hand tried to grab hers with the last of its strength. With all its strength, it struck the last of the mirrors with its shoe. The clatter echoed into nothingness and the indistinct figure disappeared.

—…she’ll be fine — came the words to Manon as she closed her tired eyes.

The last thing she saw was a thick, leather-bound grimoire.

— No going back to work! — [Reader] stated categorically.

— You're exaggerating, miss! I've been sitting here too long — the maid said sulking.

Lying in bed all week was exhausting. Especially when, from one day to the next, most of the responsibilities that had kept her busy were taken away.

No shopping. No help with dressing or make-up. No arranging meetings, organising afternoon teas or even tea. Absolutely nothing. All in the name of health.

— Vanitas said that everything was fine with me…

— You’re listening to him now?! — the woman said indignantly.

Manon laughed to herself. Maybe that quack was good for something after all. Finally.

— You should enjoy this time off. The garden is in such a sorry state that it will take some time to fix it up. — [Reader] glanced out the window reflexively. — You'll get tired in time.

The maid's impressions of that unlucky night were only vague. Noé, Vanitas and [Reader] had much more to say. Fortunately, the guests never realized what had happened. A sectioned-off part of the garden separated them from the macabre spectacle.

Her malnomen was ugly. What she believed. Fragments of something that looked like glass or maybe crystal, were still strewn among some of the rose bushes. Her unbridled bloodlust had nearly taken the lives of three people. And if it weren't for them, she certainly wouldn't have stopped there.

— Miss, I'm really going crazy from sitting here...

— Fine. I promise I'll assign you something tomorrow — the woman gave in, starting to read the novella she had under her arm.

They sat in silence for a moment.

— I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier…— Manon began.

— Oh no! If you start apologizing for the same thing again, I'll actually fire you! — [Reader] threatened.

Indeed, it wasn't the first time. Nor was she the only person to whom the apology was addressed. Although the maid had difficulty in uttering the apology addressed to Vanitas. Instead of gloating, however, he patted her childishly on the head and announced that he was, after all, a vampire doctor.

— Have you considered what I said? — Manon asked, looking at the romantic novella in [Reader]’s hands.

— I don't know... Maybe we'll have the tea party next week, when you're fully back on your feet. I was really mad at them that night... but then again, seeing the curse up close, I can understand why they'd want to make sure they got to the bearers in time. Even if it was at my expense that time.

The reconciliation tea was a good idea. Or so the former curse bearer wanted to believe. Maybe it would help rebuild the relationships that had been based on misunderstandings. And maybe it would finally give [Reader] two honest friends to be around.

— Sooo... which one do you like better now, my lady? — the maid asked teasingly.

— Manon! I change my mind! I think you're completely healed after all. Time to get back to your duties.

— Thank you very much, miss. — The woman smiled, rushing to her work clothes.

— You're impossible...— [Reader] stated as she left the room. — As for your question...— She paused dramatically as her employee waited for an answer — it's a secret.— She put a finger to her lips, which was met with a loud groan of disappointment.

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