Sole Memorial

Closeness

Snap! The wooden wing in her hand suddenly felt lighter, and Atta found herself staring at a broken connecting rod on her desk. She was so lost in thought that she must have pressed too hard on the poor thing. Now she was glad she decided to prioritize the shape of the whole piece rather than texture the wing as soon as that was done. It wasn't unsalvageable, but she would have to leave it as extra scrap.

Setting everything down and aside, she decided it was time for a break. Her eyes landed on a finished version of what she was trying to work on: an orange, hollow wooden bird whose wings flapped when air went through it. She had yet to figure out how it could do such a thing without being spun around, since it was meant to be dangled on a string. Once she finished her own version, would it perform just as perfectly? Without any blueprints or notes, she could only try to study the visible details and hope that she could recreate it well enough.

Now, though, she needed to get through the setback.

"What happened?" asked a half-hearted Dot.

"I... may need to start something over."

"Oh..." The younger princess returned to staring out the window, most likely at the abandoned garden house just below.

She hadn't been the same since the party. Atta was suspicious when Dot didn't visit her after returning, and she got her answer the next day when, with a telescope, she saw her sister standing at the castle gates. It was around the usual time she would hurry to the bakery, yet she was frozen mid-step as in a curse. Dot was not normally someone to give up, but on that day she dropped her basket and went back to the castle. Her march was a defeated one.

Not that Atta could fault her when she herself hadn't gotten back into the normal routine either. It was both humorlessly funny and frustrating how three nights of indulgence could undo five years of acceptance and relative docileness.

When you give an inch, they take a mile.

Cornelius, the Queen's advisor, once warned Mother with this phrase against letting the eldest princess traverse the castle gardens, even if watched. It was a reminder that she wasn't trusted, that most believed she had no self-control. Years ago, she resented it, but now she could not refute it.

On the first night after, she almost flew to the lake out of habit. Luckily, the repaired music box reminded her that she had no need to go anymore, and no one would be waiting for her anyway. She remembered feeling relief, having the box play her favorite tune until she dozed off. With it came a renewed appreciation for what was already her precious keepsake.

The following day was tolerable, maybe even freeing. There were no more secrets to hide, no plans to pretend not to have. All she needed to do was to stay quiet, not bring anything up, and not overthink. Time went by smoothly when she kept to those rules, but of course the peace wouldn't last.

She woke in the middle of that night falling out of bed, stricken by a night terror. Her fingers tangling in her sheets were at least enough to ground her to reality, but her mind overtook her sight and all she could see was Flik lying motionless on the lakeshore. It took until sunrise to recall that he was alive and well, that she didn't stand frozen while the light left his eyes. However, the guilt didn't leave her even as she managed to doze off and salvage what was left of the slumbering hours. From the worry on Mother's face as she saw her, she still hadn't slept enough.

Last night, she was restless. Though she desperately needed sleep, Flik's dulled eyes haunted her, daring her to put them from her memory. With so many hours left until day, she had plenty of time to think about what they meant. Both back then and in the nightmare, they pleaded in vain for help she didn't know how to give. He never did bring it up again, did he? Atta never really forgot, but he carried on like there was nothing to worry about.