Wave The Thread, My Disperser

Wordless Gratitude

"What a sky, fit for a painting!" Themellia exclaimed, holding onto a hard-earned basket of plum buns as she tiptoed into the Rosary Garden for a brief lunch break. Despite Chamenos orders, she had insisted on being assigned tasks suitable for a commoner like herself. Liliana, eventually giving in to her request, had arranged for the local chef to consider her needs. "A kitchen apprentice! That's what the head chef called me today," she stated with a mix of pride and disbelief. Each afternoon, she would retreat to one of the fruit trees nearby, where she could go unnoticed by almost everyone. "I can see the entire kingdom from here!" It felt like just yesterday when she first arrived at the noble Astray palace, completely unaware of the vast world beyond her humble cottage. "Pavlos was truly selfless," she continued, a grateful smile playing on her lips. "The other day, I mentioned how much I loved plum buns while helping him with the dishes during a busy evening, and now he's gifted me a handful in return." She then reached into her leather handbag, retrieving a few worn-out fountain pens and a seemingly brittle sketchbook. "I missed you," she murmured fondly, as if addressing old friends.  "I keep having those visions, even while I'm awake." Since she awoke in Westmount, Themellia's favourite pastime was drawing, and she indulged in it excessively. It began with timid sketches of the sun, sky, and trees, but over time, she grew exceptionally fond of this trivial hobby. Without realizing it, she progressed to drawing human forms, focusing solely on the enchanting facets of the world... Although, she often dreamed of an unfamiliar lady - a figure who embodied polite yet warm giggles, firm yet sincere wisdom, and Themellia's personal favourite, witty frowns whenever she bid her a short farewell. Pages upon pages were filled with sketches of this mysterious woman, making her the center of Themellia's sullen imagination.

"Diomedes..." A stern and monotone voice, suddenly echoed from a slight distance, instantly snapping Themellia out of her daydreams.

"Wait, what?!" Taken completely by surprise, she hastily packed up her sewn basket, brushing off the powdery crumbs from her lips as she finished savouring the final morsels of the bun.

"Get off..." The man coldly continued, his tone growing increasingly intimidating with each word.

"Does he know I'm here?! No, no, he was calling somebody else's name..." In the midst of chaos, unsure of what to do just now, Themellia quietly curled up into a ball.

"If you insist..." The man's words came with a sudden burst of authority, punctuated by the forceful kick he delivered to the tree behind which Themellia had sought refuge. "Oh no! My drawing tools!" Themellia exclaimed, reaching desperately for her falling sketchbook, only for him to firmly grasp her frail wrist and pull the clueless girl toward his chest. From Chamenos' perspective, the scene unfolded in a mere heartbeat, but for Themellia, it stretched into an eternity of embarrassment and foolishness. Her gaze met his, and she found herself ensnared by the commanding presence he exuded.

"You again?" His voice carried a hint of bewilderment.

"Eh..." Themellia's response was a stuttering mess, her mind unable to form coherent words as she stood frozen in place. Despite her attempts to break the awkward silence with nervous murmurs, the discomfort in her chest only grew. Recognizing him as her unexpected savior, Themellia's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Ah, so it was the Young Master..." she managed to mumble, her voice barely audible over the din of her racing thoughts. -"Young Master... What a lovely day! What brings you to this garden?!" Despite her innocent giggles, which seemed to double as nervous smirks, and Chamenos' stone-cold stare, discomfort started to feel right at home in her chest.  -"How could I address him so casually? That was thoughtless of me..." 

Suddenly, Chamenos stiffly interjected, "What were you doing up there?" Even though she could have easily dismissed it as a childish habit, Themellia  in puzzlement, completely taken aback by his intense glare. "Will you not answer?" Chamenos stood before her, unmoving as if her words held no significance.