Lumiere's POV
She was here. Iris.
I had met her on the day of the rogues' attack, contrary to what I had assumed. She had truly dyed her hair and looked more… delicate?
I took a sip from my tea, watching her every movement through the puppet standing before her. I had only let the puppets out for a walk to familiarise themselves with their new residence.
Being kept in the cupboard for long would make their wooden bodies rot. Yet one of them—the least presentable of all, Amon—found her on visitation day.
I couldn't tell if it followed my inner desire, but he tried to close the distance immediately. He only continued moving until he was held back.
I inwardly thanked whoever stopped him.
For some reason, Iris looked scared and held onto a white-haired girl who had her guard up.
I wished I could hear them, but from Amon's neck upwards, apart from eyes, it needed a lot of work.
