23. And I'll Tell You How Mine Went, Was Okay

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WARNING!

This chapter contains themes that could be potentially upsetting for some readers. From this chapter on it CAN and WILL get worse. For spoiler reasons I will not be putting individual tags before each chapter.

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Last time Tommy remembers, Ranboo's hair was as black as a raven's wing, but now there are strands of white spewn across his forehead, presumably dyed in that color. Somehow it serves to make Ranboo’s expression all the more lost. Somehow, Tommy doesn’t believe it.

Aimsey makes her presence known by a pointed cough. When Tommy’s attention splits from Ranboo, she curtsies, picking up the skirt of her black dress. Brown hair spills freely from under a coif of pearls on red embroidery, and a ruby necklace the size of a nail resides on her collarbone. Modest but fine-tasted, Aimsey dictates the fashion of the capital with every new outfit that she appears in. Tommy is sure that, within a few weeks, even the palace ladies are going to switch to ebony silks and crimson jewelry – tailored and sewed in Aimsey’s workshop for a tidy sum. 

“Your Imperial Highness, I haven't anticipated your visit,” Aimsey says. “But it’s a pleasant surprise, of course.” 

Aimsey draws the corner of her lips apart. She has a face made for smiling, whether with her lips or eyes or just her gaze alone – polite and good at listening, always having some witty reply of her own, she is a treasure for any bored noble seeking company while they shop. The amount of rumors and secrets that she hears in a single day could be used as a weapon to break fates and ruin entire noble lineages, if only Aimsey hadn’t steered away from the court intrigue like a ship from shallow waters. 

Duchess Clara called it a folly. Tommy is more inclined to believe that Aimsey had taken a look at the weapon in her hands and willingly molded it into sewing needles. It’s a wise choice, perhaps, but none that was ever available to him. If he turns around and leaves now people would know that it’s because of Ranboo. 

Had I known who I was going to run into, this visit wouldn’t happen at all. If Tommy’s expression does ripple a little, it’s back to normal so fast that anybody who had seen the change would question their own eyes. 

“No more than I did,” he replies politely. “I assume that you're not yet familiar with Prince Dream, brother of King Foolish and heir to the throne of Esempi."

Dream nods a greeting, and Aimsey curtsies again. “It must be a lucky day for my establishment, to be graced by the presence of not one but three princes. I’ve been recommending our new collection of jewelry to every customer who came in today but I’m afraid that it will be dim in comparison to what you are used to in your home kingdom, Prince Dream.”

“I’m sure that I will find something to my liking,” Dream hums. “Feel free to take your leave. We wouldn’t want to distract you from your other customers.”

“Very well,” Aimsey says. “My assistants will be around. Please let them know if there is anything you need.”

She claps her hands and it’s as though the entire boutique unfreezes at once. Conversations between a group of ladies that halted the moment that Tommy and Dream had entered starts up again, a low rumble of voices, and while they had gathered around a dress that one of Aimsey’s assistants presents them, Tommy’s instincts tell him that the discussion is far from the topic of clothes and fashion. 

Aimsey approaches the table that Techno and Ranboo sit at. She says something, so quietly that Tommy only makes out the word ‘measurements’. Ranboo glances at him once and quickly looks away when their eyes meet; he stands up and scurries after Aimsey, and they both disappear upstairs. Tommy is ought to be relieved, but whether it be from experience or simply a gut feeling, uneasiness rolls behind his sternum, building up in his stomach thickly. It reminds him of those times when the Emperor wants to see him without a prior notice or Wilbur goes quiet for a long time – an invisible danger, a wave building up behind a dam, one he won't see until it breaks. There was a time where Tommy preferred to hide low and hope that the tide would pass by, but the days of cowering are long behind him.

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