The Duke's Sailor Daughter [DISCONTINUED]

⟨ 9 ⟩

   "I am still willing to... become sisters with you Huella. If you allow me to!" Francesca squeaked with an embarrassed tone. The shared hug grew tighter, having it become uncomfortable to Felicia. Felicia urged her elder sister to let her breathe. Francesca was squirming about in an unknown language, trying to cover up her shyness.

"F.. Fine..! Let me go!" Felicia yells, flustered. Their embrace was severed, with an unnoticeable pout on Francesca's lips. Felicia attempts to maintain her calm attitude, taking deep and calculated breaths in the process. After a short period of Felicia pushing herself to be the mature one, she then asked.

"Sisters? Aren't we already sisters?"

"Not that kind."

"Ah, I do not understand. Please elaborate clearly."

"Geez! You're so formal!" Francesca scratches her head, a growl escaping her mouth. Felicia held in her giggles upon witnessing the unladylike actions of her elegant elder sister. The older caught wind of Felicia teetering on the fine line of guffawing and indifference. The exchange between two polar opposite personalities is hilarious to Francesca. The two share an involuntary laughter.

'I never expected I could converse with my sister like this. Is it because I really am too formal?' Felicia was sighing inwardly as she realized the fact.

"Alright, I'll loosen up. But don't let Madame Imelda hear this." The younger warns with a serious look. To Francesca, it looked like a small and adorable animal trying to assert fearlessness, which did not work at all. Francesca proceeded to squeal, embracing her sister once more.

"Francesca! Get off me!" Felicia squirms with an unstoppable force. But the elder's strength and tenacity is not to be underestimated either. Francesca vehemently shook her head, signifying her disobedience to Felicia's simple request.

'I hate her even more now! My lungs!' Felicia childishly whines, which is unlike her usual stoicism.

The spectating mother lightly frowns, signaling her displeasure. Though her daughters were borne of the same womb, the Damonte couple's preferential treatment obviously went to their bright first child. The second daughter is left scraps of Francesca's talent. Caresa shook her head, before she walked away from the loving banter of her two daughters. The sun has already began its descent, leaving various shades of oranges in its wake. Francesca, an ever excitable child, dragged her younger sister to the clocktower, much to Felicia's dismay. The younger albino never made it obvious, but she does enjoy the frivolous chatter they have at the moment. Emotions such as inferiority and abandonment swell and clog Felicia's mind, leaving the girl unable to trust her sister. Francesca is genuine, that is the truth, but Felicia is a prickly, and reclusive child whose head spins with negativity.

'I really am sorry, Francesca... and thank you, as well.'

The pair walked rhythmically, side by side, up the swirling staircase. Only their steps made sounds, as a comfortable silence dawns on them. Gears and wires were evident, as they reach the peak of the tower. The clocktower is next to the annexes. Beyond these annexes is Olive Garden, which is somewhat noticeable now due to the tower. Felicia involuntarily shivers upon glancing at Olive Garden.

A stunning view of the sun and twilight was met by gazing through the window on the side of the room. The first duke had these panes fixed on the sides of the tower, so he can watch the sunsets and sunrises with his wife in the higher point possible. He was an awfully romantic person, dictated the Historia de los Famiglia Damonte, stored preciously in the hidden library of the manor. Of course, as members of the Damontes, they have access to read the compiled history of their ducal family.

"By the way, why do you call me Huella?"

"Ah, but that's your name, isn't it?"

"Well, yes. It is. But why not Felicia?"