Chapter Text
The hour was getting late, and both of them knew it was time for bed, but Florine, sipping her chamomile tea, stayed up just a bit longer on the sofa, sitting in the calm quiet of the library on Soroz. Sitting next to her with her own tea was Lenore, a little smile on her lips.
Florine set her tea mug down and tentatively took Lenore's hand, which Lenore gave without a second thought.
“I know it's not the right thing to do,” Florine began, “but Lenore, I like you very much.”
“Why is liking Lenore not right?”
Florine cocked her head. Did sweet Lenore really not know why this wouldn't be allowed?
“Florine makes Lenore happy...”
“You make me happy too, Lenore.”
It was unusual enough that a knight-in-training of the Heretic Investigation Division could be friends with a loyal member of the True Order, the corrupting influence of which Florine had learned all about in her studies:
Shameless blasphemers who seek personal power at any cost, unbound by moral or ethical concerns. They must not be allowed to propagate their beliefs among the innocent. Do not allow their deceptive charms to beguile and seduce you, lest you wander outside the light and be lost in outer darkness for all eternity.
But that didn't sound like Lenore, who by chance was paired with her on the Colossus one evening for dinner duty a week ago. As they prepared bowls of fresh salad and baked fish for the rest of the Aurorians on board, they got to talking, and once Florine had gotten used to Lenore's unusual way of speaking and seeming unfamiliarity with social interactions, she found the soft-spoken, hard-working young lady to be endlessly kind, even wandering around in her thoughts right after morning prayers. Lenore just needs a little help sometimes, Florine thought, and it makes me so happy to do so. And I can't help but smile when we cross paths, especially when she seems to come out of nowhere when it's me who needs a little help.
And I do everything so properly, Florine reasoned with herself, surely there's nothing wrong...
“May Lenore kiss Florine?”
Florine gasped, looked into Lenore's curious eyes, and nodded, closing her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest as she went in for her very fi –
“Absolutely not!”
Florine nearly hit the ceiling as she turned to see Hedy glaring at her, arms crossed.
“Florine, this is hardly the behavior one expects from a knight! You shouldn't sully yourself with this heretic – you shouldn't be kissing anyone, in fact. Now go take a cold shower and go to bed. I don't want to see you with this woman or anyone else from the True Order! Understood?”
“Yes, Miss Hedy,” Florine said, eyes downcast as she got up to go, not looking back at Lenore's confused, hurt expression as she rushed out of the room, not wishing to have Hedy see her choke back sobs.
“Did Lenore... did Lenore do something wrong?” She asked, her voice quaking.
“Go repent of your sins and beg the God of Light for forgiveness!”
-
Later that night, back at the Manor of Truth, Lenore sat in the library, burning the midnight oil as she read a large book of Lumopolis-approved prayers and doctrines, wondering how she could possibly fulfill all these orders from the God of Light.
There's so much about this world that Lenore doesn't understand, she thought, feeling hopeless. She was at a total loss, staring at the pages, not even hearing someone else walk in.
“Lenore, what are you getting up to at this hour?”
She looked up and saw Paloma standing over her shoulder, dressed in her flannel pajamas, wiping sleep from her eyes in one hand, holding a purloined cookie in the other.
“Don't waste your time with those prayer books, Lenore. They're full of nonsense.”
“But... Lenore was told to repent her sins and ask the God of Light for forgiveness.”
Paloma pulled up a chair and sat down, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Who told you that?!”
Lenore recounted what had happened earlier, nearly tearing up as she did so, unused to feeling these emotions and unsure what to do with their severity. Paloma listened patiently – she didn't let on how excited she was that Lenore had a little girlfriend, even if she was a sanctimonious hypocrite of Lumopolis.
“If you want my advice...”
“Will Paloma tell Lenore what to do?”
“No. It's just advice. Do it or don't, it's up to you,” Paloma said, and when Lenore looked a little lost, added: “When you became an Aurorian, you inherited our blessing and our curse, like it or not. But if I were you, I would try to avoid having those feelings for anyone from Lumopolis. Even if they seem nice... Lumopolis is very dangerous, Lenore.”
“Did... did Paloma...?”
“There's a man from Lumopolis who thinks he loves me. But he loves the imaginary Paloma in his head. You can't trust anyone who chases after fantasies. And everyone in Lumopolis is chasing after a fantasy of some kind.”
“That's why the True Order seeks the Truth,” Lenore offered, gamely attempting to follow the abstract concepts Paloma was discussing.
“Sure,” Paloma said. “Anyway, it's getting late. Come on, why don't you go to bed?”
Paloma walked Lenore to her room, breaking the cookie in half and letting Lenore have some. Lenore explained to her all about Florine, and how she enjoyed looking at her and speaking with her. (I suppose, Paloma thought, that's all attraction is when you get down to the basics.) Paloma hadn't seen Lenore be this animated over anything, and resolved to herself that she'd help get Lenore her first kiss.
-
“This is too many books, Miss President,” Erica said, looking at the stack of volumes on Florine's desk. It was late at night, and although Florine frequently extolled the virtues of getting a proper amount of sleep, she was up, determined to find answers somewhere in these. She looked up from Exegesis on Talbot's Sacred Commands, her eyes red.
“President, you look so sad...”
Florine sniffed.
“I am sad, Erica.”
“Is it because you have so much reading to do? I understand that.” Erica gently closed the tome in front of Florine.
“That's not it... but not finding the answers is very frustrating. I'm sorry, but I can't tell you why.”
“Is it because you fell in love with a member of the True Order and Miss Hedy scolded you and forbid you from seeing her ever again before you could have your first kiss?”
“Yes, that's it exactly.” Things like this had happened often enough that Florine had ceased to be surprised by Erica.
“Although, I don't know how you're going to avoid seeing her. Aren't you the catcher for the Lumopolis Paladins?”
“Yes, but what's that got to do with...”
Erica unfolded a schedule and showed it to Florine.
“You're playing against the True Order team next week, Miss President.”
Sure enough. True Order Fightin' Heirophants @ Lumopolis Paladins.
“Hmmm,” Florine stroked her chin. “Thanks, Erica. Suddenly, I feel a lot better about things. But I was so wrapped up in my own problems that I forgot to ask how you are.”
“I'm fine, Miss President. As fine as anyone can be, given that all known reality exists in a bubble which can be popped at will by the unknown existences.”
“Right,” Florine said, nodding. “I'm glad you're making the best of things.”
-
“It's not my intention,” Schwartz began, “to allow us to suffer a defeat against these absurd blasphemers, even if they have been allowed into the league. At the Illumina Federation's insistence, I might add.”
Carleen nodded. Her father was standing beside her as she stood on the mound, a bucket of baseballs beside her. She wound up and threw a slider which landed directly in the middle of the net.
“As you say, City Lord. Don't worry. I won't let Lumopolis down.”
She picked up another ball.
“Is that so? Then why are your breaking pitches failing to break, Carleen?”
She threw another one which hung up and in, landing on the inside edge of the zone. Schwartz sighed.
“You're unlikely to overpower anyone with your fastball, so I suggest you rediscover your other pitches with due haste.”
“Yes, City Lord.”
She picked up another ball, waiting for him to leave. He didn't.
“Is there something else you wanted to say, City Lord?”
“No. I wish only to observe for a moment.”
She continued to practice and could not, for the life of her, get her slider to do anything worthwhile. With a sigh, she went and gathered up everything she'd thrown at the net as Schwartz watched in stony silence.
“Is that all?”
“For today, yes. I'll practice more tomorrow, City Lord, once my work is done.”
“See that you do.”
He left. Maybe my father would be happier if someone else pitched, she thought, but he was so insistent that I do it. And for what? Was he that desperate for another avenue to express his disappointment in me?