An Aide /Kamisato Ayato/

21- A Wish to Fill

(Name) took in a deep breath as she set her foot into her old house, relishing the old memories seeping into the back of her mind once more.

After everything that happened, she had finally decided to pay a visit to her old house, which soon would be her throne.

As she walked in, her heart pounded against her chest like a warning. The man she relied on wasn't beside her this time, and she was all alone walking in the halls. All maids who looked her way, were quick to take notice and scurried to clean every part of her estate.

Compared to what other nobles presented themselves to be, their abodes to have, and what shone among the corner of their homes—(Name)'s was far off the definition of "wealthy" among the nobles. Even if her words was the reliable source of her weapon, everyone still looked down at her residence. Hence, the servants only focused to where guests frequented the most.

(Name)'s hands hovered above the doorknob. Dust flew around, seeping out through the holes of the door. She piqued through the little window on the door, seeing the woman in disheveled conditions laid on the bed helplessly. Her mother laid there, hair grown out of its original length, messy and greasy, her eyes dull and lifeless staring at the ceiling as if the world meant nothing more but a boring movie; despite so, she was still beautiful.

(Name) knocked on the door carefully, walking in the messy room. She looked around, only to see how dirty this room had become. Perhaps it was because of her years absence, no one seemed to be taking care of this room anymore, all maids were too afraid to walk in.

"Mother?" she greeted, voice low as a whisper. The said woman needed two more calls to her in order to get her attention, in which (Name) called her again for another time. "...who's there?"

(Name) halted for a second. It'd happened again and again, the frequent wash of memories, as if she meant nothing in her mother's life. Even with all blessings she tried to collect, and called in lots of priests, down to even ask for the archon herself to bless her mother, nothing happened—her mother remained the same.

Perhaps calling her mother was wrong.

"I'm your friend," (Name) replied carefully. Due to her reputation, and the incident of her father's death breaking out to the whole society, doctors were reluctant to help. Even (Name) couldn't understand why would they let her mother suffer under this condition.

"Friend...?" Her mother turned her head, showing off her eyes that (Name) had long forgotten how they looked like. "You look beautiful."

'I'm your daughter,' (Name) thought, but kept it to herself. She approached her slowly, careful not to startle her. The urge to pull her to a hug, and cried under her mercy, whining of her exhausting and mundane life, filled with threats of daggers filled her—yet, the h/c haired daughter couldn't do that. Instead, she stood just a few feet away.

"Thank you." A soft smile graced her lips, bitterness seeped into the taste of her tongue as she lifted her lips to a smile. "You look stunning as well." The urge to call her 'mother' was still strong.

"Heh, thank you, my dear friend." Her mother's frail and wrinkled hand went over to the bedside table, taking a small painting framed and place it there. "You look quite alike to my daughter."

'She still believes I'm dead.'

"If she's still here, you both will look like twins."

****

"(Name)?"

As (Name) walked out of her residence, she found Ayato in disguise, standing just a few steps outside the carriage. He quickly walked over to her, a slight tone of concern filled his voice. "Are you alright?"