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Amarantha cracked open the door to her humble home. A muffled knocking sound could be heard from within, so she sought to investigate its origins.
“May I help you?” Amarantha wondered in a soft, sweetened tone of voice. Through the opening of the door there stood an impressive masculine figure, looming over her. He was dressed in the same navy-blue uniform complete with the Clan insignia proudly plastered across his chest.
“Good afternoon, miss.” The man met her gaze with a slight bow of the head. Amarantha bowed politely in kind. “I’ve come to request a visit with Amarantha. Do you know of her by any chance?” Amarantha couldn’t help but giggle to herself. “Did I say something funny?” He asked bashfully. A small sweat drop fell from his head.
“Oh, my apologies.” Amarantha covered her smile with the over-sized sleeves of her uniform. “That would be me.” She pushed the door open further, revealing her own petite yet mid-sized stature.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Amarantha,” the young man said.
“Enchanté—er, it is truly a pleasure. May I ask your name, Sir?”
“I am Aeon,” he responded.
“Well, well. What a lovely name that is. Aeon.” Amarantha repeated the name to herself under he breath, as if committing it to memory by tucking it somewhere into her mind palace. “Aeons and aeons.” She snapped back to reality, “would you like to come inside, Mr. Aeon?”
“I’d love to.” Amarantha stepped aside, welcoming the visitor into her home.
“It isn’t much. I’ve been living here for a while now, you see.” Aeon entered and took note of the interior. It looked almost identical to his own home. He removed his boots, stored them beside the entrance, and followed Amarantha who was bringing out a porcelain tea set embellished with red camellia flowers. The layout of the home was almost the same as every other in the Settlement—a single wooden room with no partitions. There were bunk beds against the right-most wall, various necessities stashed along the left, and a shrine commemorating significant figures stood at the centre behind a large hearth. “Would you care for some tea? I picked the leaves earlier this morning!”
“Sure, it would be an honour, Miss Amarantha.”
“Please pick any seat you’d like.” Aeon plopped down on a round seat to the right of the hearth, opposite Amarantha.
“Thank you,” he said as he accepted a cup of piping hot tea; he handled it carefully to avoid any burns and blew on it to cool it down before taking a swig.
“It’s white tea.”
“How delicate. I like that.” Aeon watched Amarantha as she blew on her own cup. “You’ve been living alone?”
“Y-yes, I have. I was told to move here by my parents. I am living here whilst I wait for a suitor they’ve prepared for me,” she explained.
“Is that so? Have they mentioned who they had in mind?” Aeon wondered respectfully in an attempt at making small-talk.
