Alyse walks slowly through the Egris family house, her mind a chaotic swirl of various thoughts, turning over the events of the past two hours.
Not long ago, Mizuki tracked her down within the Zuki mansion, asking to speak alone. While she's certainly gotten more accustomed to his presence since her arrival in Eden, that request alone was still enough to immediately put her on edge. After all, no matter how affable Mizuki seems, she's never for a second forgotten what he really is – a kingdom-razing alien in human skin.
Nevertheless, that perpetual awareness still failed to rattle her as much as what he ultimately wished to speak about. Without Alara's advocation, without her mentioning it herself, he preemptively offered to 'try and solve' her brother Reynard's 'issues with magic'. She couldn't believe it...as far as she knew, he didn't even know about her brother's situation. At least, not in any meaningful way. Yet, there he was, offering of his own volition to fulfill perhaps her single most ardent desire in life.
Words cannot describe the level of relief and gratitude she felt. Ever since the nobles' meeting, she'd been mentally preparing herself to offer him virtually anything in exchange for exactly that favor. She'd have served as his sword, or even his maid, for the rest of her natural life, or probably even killed for him without question. Such was the fervor with which she longed to see her sweet little brother's biggest source of shame remedied.
Of course, it's not as if he granted the favor completely free of strings. Though he never explicitly articulated it as quid pro quo, how could she not understand the implications of him tracking her down with such uncharacteristic focus, offering something she desperately wanted, then asking for a favor of his own so soon thereafter? She was neither surprised nor offended by the implicit trade, instead welcoming the opportunity to pay him back in some small way. However, she was caught completely unaware by the nature of the favor he requested.
She can remember every word he uttered, standing there, rubbing his neck with clear apprehension.
"Listen, Alyse...so, I know you and Cara aren't on the best of terms right now, and I'm not going to pretend like that's something I have the right or the ability to try and fix. But, could I make a really inconsiderate request? You don't need to forgive or forget whatever your history is, but could you visit her? Just for one night, as a favor to me, put your grievances on hold and be there for her. I just...something tells me Cara wants your support more than she's willing to admit, and at this point, I'm worried how she'll fare without it."
Honestly, it wasn't a request from him that she was emotionally prepared to hear, and she's not even sure she's capable of carrying it out. Go be there for Cara? The request had almost made her chuckle hysterically, not because she hates her sister or anything of the sort, but because the idea of Cara appreciating her presence at all was just that laughable to her.
She'd wanted to explain the situation to him, to emphasize just how ridiculous his sentiment sounded. How she'd tried to 'support' her sister for centuries to no avail. How Cara was the one who pushed her away from her side, and didn't seem to welcome her there anymore. But...she didn't. She could tell from the look in the strange young Nephilim's eyes that he wouldn't be swayed, and she didn't have the heart or the shamelessness to deny the only request he may ever make of her.
So, here she is, walking through her old home after he teleported her here, seeking out her little sister with a strange sense of dread in her heart.
She arrives in front of the family head's office, her fist hovering above the door hesitantly for a few seconds as she steels her resolve.
Knock, knock, knock!
"Cara?" (Alyse)
She raps on the door lightly, calling out to her sister. However, contrary to her expectations for Cara's whereabouts this time of evening, there's no reply. Her brows furrow in confusion, and she gently pushes the door open, only to find the office dark and empty.
'Where is she? It's far too early for her to be in bed...'
Perplexed but undeterred, she begins wandering through the large, eerily empty mansion, peeking into common rooms. Yet, even after checking the kitchen, the dining room, Cara's bedroom, the den, and the reception hall again, she has yet to find her sister.
'She couldn't be out, right? Her personal guards were stationed outside the house...'
Eventually, she resorts to wandering aimlessly through the less trafficked halls of the mansion in search of her sister, and her thoughts inadvertently drift to a time when the mansion was much livelier. Happier times, when she'd still walk through these very halls eagerly looking for her mother.
It's in this unfocused state of reminiscence that she ultimately happens upon the mansion's library room. Not the large, formal, opulent one crammed to the brim with books of all variety, but the smaller, cozier study littered with books handpicked to her mother's tastes. The place where her mother would often read her bedtime stories in front of the fire at night when she was a little girl.
To her surprise, she hears the nostalgic crackle of burning wood as she approaches the room, accompanied by a soft, flickering orange glow spilling out of the study's slightly ajar door. She makes her way forward, gently pushing her way into the room.
Inside, she finds Cara sitting on the small, leather reading couch in front of the fireplace, staring listlessly into its dancing flames, a wine glass in hand and accompanying bottle on the table beside her. At the sound of the door creaking open, Cara turns to face her in a slow, deliberate motion, while Alara stares back at her, slightly stunned.
As their eyes meet, a surge of anxiety rushes through her. Coming here unannounced and uninvited, she's imagined a number of reactions from her sister. Annoyance, anger, dismissiveness, surprise, or perhaps even idle curiosity. But at no point could she have predicted Cara's actual response.
From the second her sister's gaze sweeps over her, amber eyes flickering faintly with recognition, she's nothing but the picture of indifference.
"Ah...hello, sister..." (Cara)
Cara's tone reaches her ears, dull and completely uninterested. No surprise, no curiosity about the reason for her visit, no indication at all that she's affected in any way by her presence. Her sister merely greets her with that same listless demeanor, then returns her gaze to the fireplace as if she never intruded on her privacy in the first place.
As Alyse stands there, overcome with shock and the foreboding sense that something is quite wrong with her sister, it becomes apparent that Cara truly intends to say nothing else. Her sister merely allows her arrival to be defined by the sounds of crackling fire. Realizing this, she slowly makes her way to the couch, sitting at the opposite end from Cara, studying her intently.
As though in anticipation of further communication, Cara just purses her lips slightly, tilting her wine glass back to drain the rest of its contents hurriedly before reaching for the nearby wine bottle. It's at this point that Alyse notices the bottle's half-empty state, suggesting that the glass her sister is currently refilling is at least her third of the night. Her unease intensifies at the sight, knowing full well that her sister rarely drinks more than a single glass in a given day.
"So, why are you here?" (Cara)
Cara's blunt, disinterested voice breaks the silence, still not bothering to look her way. Alyse's brow furrows, tempted to snap at her sister before she recalls her promise to Mizuki. She takes a small, steadying breath.
"I'm here to visit you. Is everything...okay?" (Alyse)
Cara's expression twists with dark amusement, though her gaze still doesn't drift from the fire, her crimson hair and the shadows dancing across her pale face giving her a rather sinister air.
"I see...Mizuki bribed you to come check on me, didn't he?" (Cara)
Alyse freezes, a small pang of guilt assaulting her, but she forces herself to respond in a soft, unbothered tone.
"He teleported me here, but I don't need a reason to visit you, Cara. You're my little sister, and whatever else may be going on between us...I love you." (Alyse)
Alas, her words seem to have the opposite of desired effect on her sister. Cara turns to face her fully for the first time since she arrived. Her sister's voice turns almost mocking, her eyes glinting with unmasked skepticism.
"Is that so? So, he didn't offer to do anything for you today? You'd have just hopped on the train and come to see me anyway, right?" (Cara)
The venom in her voice causes Alyse to wince, averting her eyes. Noting her silence, Cara scoffs, staring into the fireplace again as her voice softens into something more...bitter.
"Of course he'd send you here. Too attentive, too caring to do nothing, too scared to come himself. Well, you can leave and tell him you did your job...I'm fine." (Cara)
Alyse can only stare at her sister in conflicted silence as Cara tilts back her wine glass again, downing the remaining half of it in one, surly gulp. Bearing witness to the unnatural, disconcerting behavior, she can't help but war with herself about how to approach any further discussion with Cara.
'Mizuki was right to be worried, to ask me to visit...something is clearly off with her.'
But as her worry only mounts and the seconds tick by, she's no closer to deciding how to handle the situation. It's been too long since they were close, since they really understood one another, and it's unclear if Cara would even let her in enough to help. There's also a part of her that questions if she even has the right to do so, recognizing with a heavy heart that as venomous as Cara's accusations about her reasons for being here were, they hold no small amount of truth.
Alas, before either of them can break the gloomy, uncomfortable silence that's settled over the study, the door behind them opens with a soft knock and a slow creak, revealing a timid-looking middle aged elf.
Alyse's eyebrows raise at the sight, recognizing him as the Prima of Wellick, Devon. Someone who she finds annoying in an unmalicious fashion, but has never taken any real issue with. Cara, however, doesn't even spare him a glance.
"Pardon me, Lady Cara, I didn't realize you had...company. I know you sent the maids away and asked not to be disturbed, but there are some matters that require your attention." (Prima Devon)
Alyse sighs internally, knowing that she's now lost any chance she had for a fruitful discussion with Cara tonight. To her surprise, however, Cara doesn't provide her typical, dutiful response to such a request. She addresses Devon in a flat, noncommittal voice.
"Not tonight, Devon...I'd like to be alone." (Cara)
Devon, much like herself, raises an eyebrow in surprise at the response. However, he doesn't seem to take offense, instead stepping further into the study, his voice mildly sympathetic, even if performatively so.
"I understand, Lady Cara, but it would be best if you could-" (Devon)
This time, Cara doesn't even let him finish, cutting off his argument with a voice that, while civil, is notably colder than before.
"I said no, Devon. Wait until tomorrow, or handle it yourself. If you can't even handle an occasional urgent city matter by yourself, why should you even be Prima?" (Cara)
Devon freezes, caught off guard by the uncharacteristic hostility, his voice remaining notably less composed now.
"I...uhm, I'm sorry, Lady Cara, I beg your forgiveness. It's just that, well, you see..." (Devon)
He trails off, clearly unsure how to respond to such a blatant dismissal. Unfortunately, he seems to have severely overestimated Cara's patience. For the first time since Alyse arrived in the room, Cara's subdued, apathetic demeanor cracks. In a flash, she whips around and hurls her empty wine glass, her eyes aflame with unexpected fury, and roars at him with unrestrained rage.
"GODSDAMMIT! I SAID FUCK OFF!" (Cara)
SMASH!
The wine glass impacts the wall less than a meter from Devon's head, shattering into a million pieces, causing glass shards to rain around the far side of the room in a cacophony of isolated violence.