{Fluffl}

It had been two weeks since that fateful night. The aftermath of her breaking point lingered in the air like a ghost, but Furina had begun to heal, though not completely. The shallow wounds on her body were now faded scars, reminders of the turmoil she had endured. However, the deep cut on her wrist remained raw, bandaged tightly and tended to daily. It was a slow process, but it no longer bled, only ached faintly when she moved too much.

Furina lay on the large bed that now felt oddly familiar beneath her. Arlecchino's bed—or rather, their bed—had become her sanctuary since the incident. The silken sheets felt cool against her skin, and the faint scent of lavender and something sharper, distinctly Arlecchino, clung to the fabric. She traced the patterns embroidered into the bedding with her fingers, her lips curling into a soft smile.

The room had changed slightly in the past few days. Little by little, Furina had brought her own things into the space, hesitant at first, but with Arlecchino's wordless approval, she'd continued. A small porcelain vase, gifted to her weeks ago, now sat on the nightstand, holding a single blue rose that Arlecchino had left her. A few of her favorite books were stacked neatly on the edge of the desk, and a framed painting she'd done—one of the sea at sunset—hung on the wall near the window.

She glanced at it now, a sense of pride swelling in her chest. It had been one of her better works, painted during a moment of rare clarity. The strokes were bold yet deliberate, the colors vibrant, reflecting a peace she'd desperately wanted to capture.

Furina turned her head to gaze at the canopy above, crystals dangling from the edges of the curtains catching the morning light and scattering faint rainbows across the room. Her smile deepened. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt calm. Not entirely happy—happiness still seemed a distant shore—but calm. Safe, even.

Her fingers grazed the edge of her bandaged wrist, and she winced slightly. That pain was still a reminder of how far she'd fallen, but it also reminded her that she was still here. Still fighting, in her own quiet way.

The faint creak of the door caught her attention, pulling her from her thoughts. Her eyes flickered toward the entrance as Arlecchino stepped in, her boots soft against the floor. As always, the Knave moved with a composed, almost predatory grace, her dark attire stark against the warm light filtering into the room. Furina straightened slightly, her smile faltering as a faint blush crept to her cheeks.

"You're awake," Arlecchino observed, her voice low but steady as she approached the bed. Her sharp eyes swept over Furina, lingering on her wrist for just a moment before returning to her face. "How are you feeling today?"

Furina hesitated, unsure of what to say. "Better," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. "The pain is manageable." She avoided Arlecchino's gaze, focusing instead on the small bouquet of roses on the nightstand. "The room feels... different now," she added, almost as an afterthought.

Arlecchino raised an eyebrow, glancing around at the subtle additions to the space. "It suits you," she replied simply, her tone unreadable. She sat down on the edge of the bed, her movements careful, as though she didn't want to disturb Furina's peace.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence heavy yet not uncomfortable. Furina's fingers brushed the hem of the blanket, her thoughts swirling. "I moved a few things in," she said quietly, as if confessing something forbidden. "I hope... I hope that's alright."

Arlecchino turned her head to look at her, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "It's your room too now, isn't it? You don't need to ask my permission, mon trésor."

The words sent a strange warmth through Furina, and her blush deepened. She nodded, unsure of how to respond. The silence returned, but this time, it felt heavier. There were things unsaid between them, truths that hung in the air like a storm waiting to break. But for now, Furina chose to bask in the calm.

She shifted slightly, resting her head against the plush pillows and letting her eyes close briefly. As she did, Arlecchino's voice broke through the quiet, soft but firm. "Rest while you can. Things will change soon enough."

Furina opened her eyes, glancing up at Arlecchino. There was something in her tone, something ominous yet protective. Furina didn't press her for answers. She merely nodded, her fingers tightening around the edge of the blanket.

For now, she would rest. For now, she would let herself feel safe. Because she knew, deep down, that the peace she'd found here was fragile, and like all fragile things, it wouldn't last forever.

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The room was still, bathed in the faint silver glow of moonlight streaming through the partially drawn curtains. Furina lay on the expansive bed, her slender frame draped in a light, airy nightgown of soft blue, its edges trimmed delicately with black lace. The fabric clung gently to her skin, shifting slightly with the rise and fall of her breath as she stared at the ornate canopy above, lost in thought.

Beside her, Arlecchino sat propped up against a few pillows, a book resting in her boney hands. Her sharp, focused eyes skimmed the pages, the dim light catching on the reflective edge of her jacket draped over the chair across the room. The contrast between them couldn't have been more stark—Furina's delicate frame and fragile presence beside the ever-composed and imposing figure of the Knave.

But tonight, the silence between them wasn't heavy. It wasn't strained. It simply existed, like a quiet river running between two vastly different worlds.

Furina shifted slightly, her thoughts swirling too loudly in her mind to ignore. She hesitated for a moment, chewing her bottom lip before finally sitting up, her hair falling loosely over her shoulders. The cool air kissed her exposed skin, but she didn't care. Her voice, quiet but steady, broke the silence.

"Arlecchino," she said softly, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her nightgown.

The Knave didn't look up right away, her thumb pressing against the edge of the page as though marking her place. Only when Furina's words hung in the air for a few moments longer did she lower the book slightly and glance over at her, her crimson eyes catching the faint light.

"What is it?" Arlecchino's voice was calm, but there was a slight edge to it, a sign that she was fully attentive now.

Furina hesitated again, her fingers twisting the fabric nervously. She didn't meet Arlecchino's gaze right away, instead focusing on the intricate patterns embroidered into the blankets. "Do you..." She swallowed, her throat dry. "Do you have any regrets?"

Arlecchino's eyes narrowed slightly, though not in anger. She tilted her head, studying Furina as though trying to piece together the meaning behind the question. "Regrets about what?" she asked, her tone low but firm.

Furina's breath hitched, but she forced herself to continue. "About that day... the day in the theater. When you... when you killed me." Her voice cracked slightly at the end, and she finally lifted her gaze to meet Arlecchino's. Her pale blue eyes shimmered, not with tears but with the weight of the memory that lingered like a ghost between them.

Arlecchino's expression didn't change immediately. She set the book aside, her movements slow and deliberate, and shifted to face Furina fully. The air between them felt colder now, heavier.

"There's no point in dwelling on the past," Arlecchino said evenly, though her voice lacked the usual sharpness it carried.

"That's not an answer," Furina replied, her tone firm despite the vulnerability in her posture. She straightened her back slightly, her fingers gripping the blanket tightly. "Do you regret it, or don't you?"

Arlecchino let out a slow breath, her gaze dropping to her gloved hands for a moment before returning to Furina. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something—hesitation? Pain?—in her eyes.

"I did what I had to do," Arlecchino said finally, her voice quiet but resolute. "Regret doesn't change anything. It doesn't erase the blood that's been spilled or the lives that have been destroyed. So no, I don't waste my time regretting what happened."

Furina's heart sank, but before she could look away, Arlecchino's voice softened, surprising her.

"But..." Arlecchino hesitated, as though the words were foreign on her tongue. "If you're asking whether it haunts me... whether I think about that day and wonder if things could have been different... then yes."

Furina blinked, taken aback by the admission. She hadn't expected Arlecchino to say that—to show even a hint of vulnerability.

"I wasn't supposed to care," Arlecchino continued, her voice growing quieter. "You were a target, a pawn in a game much bigger than either of us. The Cryo Archon gave the order, and I carried it out. That's what I was trained to do. That's who I am."

Furina's chest tightened, her fingers loosening their grip on the blanket.

"But when I saw you on that stage," Arlecchino said, her eyes distant now, as though she were reliving the moment, "when I struck you down and watched you fall, it wasn't triumph I felt. It wasn't satisfaction. It was..." She trailed off, her jaw tightening. "It was emptiness. Like I had lost something I didn't even know I wanted to keep."

Furina's breath hitched, her hand unconsciously moving to cover her wrist, where the faint scar from that day still lingered.

"Then why?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Why did you go through with it?"

"Because I didn't have a choice," Arlecchino said simply, her gaze snapping back to Furina. "You think I wanted to? You think I enjoyed it? I did what I was told because defying the Archon would have meant my death—and yours too, in the end. There was no winning. Not for either of us."

Furina's lips trembled, but she refused to cry. She refused to let the emotions boiling inside her spill over.

"And now?" she asked, her voice steadier than before. "Do you still think there's no way out? No way to change what's already been written?"

Arlecchino didn't answer right away. Instead, she reached out, her gloved fingers brushing against Furina's cheek. The touch was surprisingly gentle, almost reverent.

"I don't know," Arlecchino admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I do know that I'm not going to lose you again. Not to the Archons, not to fate, and not to yourself."

Furina stared at her, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't know what to say, what to feel. All she knew was that for the first time in a long time, the weight of the past felt just a little lighter.

"Thank you," she said softly, her voice cracking slightly.

Arlecchino pulled her hand back, her expression hardening slightly. "Don't thank me yet, petite déesse," she said, her smirk returning faintly. "We're far from done."

Furina couldn't help but smile, just a little, as the tension in the room began to ease. She leaned back against the headboard, her fingers brushing the edge of her nightgown as she let out a slow breath.

Neither of them would sleep for a while, but for now, that was enough. They didn't need words, just the fragile peace that had settled between them—however fleeting it might be.

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The morning sunlight poured into Furina's chambers, bathing the room in a golden glow. The maids bustled around her, their hands swift and precise as they helped her into her dress. The gown was a stunning shade of deep green, delicate embroidery lining the hem, and gold accents shimmering faintly in the light. Furina stood still, her arms slightly raised, as the maids fastened the intricate buttons and adjusted the fabric to perfection.

Her hair was styled into soft waves, cascading down her back, with a simple silver comb adorned with tiny pearls securing a portion of it. Furina glanced at her reflection in the mirror, tilting her head slightly. It had been weeks since she'd truly paid attention to how she looked, but the sight of herself now felt... peaceful. Almost as if she was slowly reclaiming the confidence she had once worn like a crown.

Once the maids stepped back, satisfied with their work, Furina gave them a polite nod and rose to her feet. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of warmth.

As she stepped out into the hallway, Furina felt the faint echo of her footsteps on the polished floors. She walked aimlessly, letting her feet guide her while her mind wandered. Eventually, she found herself in the estate's vast garden, where the air was rich with the scent of roses in full bloom.

Furina moved toward a particularly beautiful section of the garden, where the roses were vibrant shades of red and white. She crouched slightly to run her fingers over the delicate petals of a white rose, its softness almost startling.

Behind her, two maids followed at a respectful distance, one carrying a parasol to shield her from the sun. Furina turned her head slightly, catching sight of them out of the corner of her eye.

She straightened up, brushing off her dress, and turned to face them fully. "Why are you following me?" she asked, her tone curious rather than accusatory.

The maids exchanged a brief glance before one of them stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Lady Furina," the maid began, her voice soft yet steady, "we were assigned to you by The Knave. She instructed us to take care of you while she's away on a mission."

Furina blinked, her lips parting slightly in surprise. "A mission?" she repeated, her gaze drifting away from them as she processed the information.

"Yes, my lady," the other maid confirmed. "She left early this morning and told us to ensure you were comfortable and well cared for."

Furina frowned faintly but nodded, her fingers absentmindedly brushing over the petals of another rose. She took a deep breath, letting the crisp garden air fill her lungs. "I see," she murmured.

Though she didn't say anything more, her heart felt heavy. She hadn't even realized Arlecchino was leaving, and now the emptiness in the estate seemed to weigh on her. The idea of Arlecchino being gone felt strange, almost unnatural, as if the foundation of her new, fragile world had temporarily shifted.

The maids stepped back slightly, giving her some space as she resumed wandering through the garden. Furina walked slowly, her hands clasped in front of her, her thoughts swirling. She didn't know where Arlecchino had gone or when she would return, but the small gesture of assigning maids to care for her... It was thoughtful in a way Furina wasn't sure she fully understood yet.

As she lingered near a rose bush, her eyes fixed on the blooms, she let out a soft sigh. Even with the beauty surrounding her, there was a quiet ache in her chest. For now, all she could do was wait—and hope Arlecchino would return soon.

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HELLO MY LAKE LILLIES<3! I hope yall enjoyed this chapter!!! I'm so sorry for the super late update! Wattpad is just being super buggy and it's annoying and I have tests coming up! So uh! Yea! Well im sorry for the short chapter but hope you enjoyed<3!

-Lady Furina De Fontaine~!