Against all social codes

by Anonymous

Summary:

Idk read it and see if u like it

Chapter 1: Sharing of information

It was unavoidable that they had to meet in secret. The world would never allow it. A commander and saintess would only ever meet on a battlefield, or if they are meeting representing each of their nations publicly. Unless it was a secret mission.

“How was the situation on your side today?”

“All was fine. Though there were some planning to cause trouble.”

In a room behind the ballroom, where a mix of necromancers and priests had gathered earlier, were Simon and Lethe discussing the security. Lethe stood in front of the mirror, fixing her hair, while Simon sat on the couch in the room, staring at the floor. He kicked his legs, watching the fabric of the robe fly around.

“Did you manage?”

“Of course, it was nothing. Though, it was a bit hard.”

Lethe looked at the mirror and glanced at Simon expectantly. Simon looked up and caught her gaze.

“Well done, though I doubt it was a huge problem, Saintess,” Simon responded slightly sarcastically.

”How do your friends deal with you if you make even a compliment sound bad.”

Lethe rolled her eyes and looked back at herself in the mirror. She took a step back to check herself before fixing her parting, which was slightly squiggly. Simon looked up.

”I’m sorry, I was joking.”

”Well I’m going to get going.”

Lethe flicked back her hair and turned to leave.

“Be careful.”

Lethe looked back for a second to meet Simon’s eyes, brimming with worry. Lethe placed her hands on her waist.

“Well, that contradicts with what you just said.”

“I mean it, please look after yourself.”

Simon frowned, clenching his hands into fists, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I know, I know.”

Lethe turns to the door and slips the hood of the robe on. It was the same one  which matched with Simon, whom had gotten up and walked up to Lethe and hugged her from behind, burying his face into his neck. Lethe froze for a moment, shocked.

“Do you do this with the other girls as well?”

Lethe pushed Simon off and grabbed the door handle.

“Remember to never do that ever again.”

“…If that’s what you want. Well, see you soon.”

Simon took a step back to give her some space.

“You too, Simon.”

She left the room gracefully like the saintess she was. Simon just stared at where she left before gathering his messy emotions and leaving the room with his hood of his matching robe up.

Even if he wanted her to stay with him for a bit longer, it couldn’t be helped. He needed to suppress his emotions. At least in public.

Chapter 2: The opening show before

A masquerade ball for the two nations. Never before had there been one and there definitely had never been one so grandiose as the one they were at. Two nations, separated only by the colour of their respective gowns and suits and masks of all types; some of them were extremely plain while some so intricate that they could alone stand as works of art.

The scene of the people was also art in its own way. The way no one mixed and the clear boundary between black and white. A line not to be crossed even though the participants agreed to be there to mingle with others from the opposite nation. It was understandable that a boundary formed over many centuries between the two would not be crossed so easily and quickly.

Slightly hostile looks were exchanged by even the hosts to each other. However in desperate circumstances, all must unite to fight back worldwide disasters together. Though the majority hated each other, that was the reason why there were people to break the wall and encourage everyone to mix.

One person from the necromancer side sent a discreet signal and another from the priest side acted swiftly in response. The two walked towards the middle parting where no one stood and walked down it to the front stage. Whispers grew as more people noticed the anonymous duo as they strode to the front confidently. The two were ever so mysterious, dressed simply but elegantly; their presences posed a slight pressure on the audience.

As they reached the stage, the necromancer turned back and held out his hand. The priest accepted it and allowed herself to escorted up onto the stage. The two positioned themselves and formed their respective darkness and divinity arrows, shooting it at each other and barely missing. They ran towards each other, spinning in circles. All of a sudden the necromancer jumped and attacked from above. Matching his pace the priest ducked and escaped from below before launching an attack to the necromancer’s side. The two attacked and dodged, round and round, precise movements matched perfectly. The crowd watched in awe at the spectacular dance, watching their breathtaking movements in complete sync.

The dance eventually ended, the two stood panting staring at each other while smiling slightly. Applause broke out gradually and people exclaimed their surprise to whoever was next to them. The plan had worked. Professors from both schools looked shocked as the duo removed their masks. White hair fell onto the girl’s shoulders, revealing their saintess twirling her hair, standing pleased. Blue hair was glimpsed, revealing their commander ruffling his hair, laughing at the sight of the saintess.

Simon and Lethe jumped off the stage and left the ballroom through separate doors. All the guests were chattering wondering whether the sight they saw was real or not.

---

Simon and Lethe met up in a room above the ballroom and watched carefully for any people who may disrupt the union of the nations quietly.

”Aren’t you tired?” Simon broke the silence and turned to look at Lethe.

”I could ask you the same. We do a lot of training in Ephnel. Are you tired from trying to keep up?” Lethe replied. Not once did her eyes leave the ballroom. Annoyed he didn’t get the response he wanted, Simon pouted and just sat still, staring through the window.

”Don’t forget Kizen has been Ephnel’s rival for many centuries now. If I couldn’t keep up then I wouldn’t be in Kizen.” Lethe glanced at Simon and smirked at his expression.

“Then don’t complain if you get tired tonight then.”

“I won’t. I feel like tonight will go past quite quickly.”

Chapter 3: Reminiscing

“Good work today. Make sure to get some rest, quite a few important figures want to talk to you tomorrow.”

“Yes thank you Miss Nephthys.”

Simon smiled sweetly as he walked towards his dorm room and entered it. 
Jules was meditating in his bed above Simon’s while Hector was doing all sorts of exercises next his bed which was on the other side of the room. After quietly greeting Jules, he grabbed his towel off his bed and made his way to the shower.

Hot water relieved all the stress that accumulated. Slumped against the shower wall, he lathered the soap into his hair, the soapy water cloaked his back. Feeling clean but fatigued, the temptation to ignore his work and go straight to bed won.

“You left at the beginning of the ball, you didn’t even have to entertain the nobles, yet you can’t find the energy to do your work? If you keep slacking like this I’ll catch up to you, Simon Polentia. Watch me.”

“Well good luck, Hector.”

Another smile, this time slightly strained. The lack of energy slowly broke his facade. He flipped onto his back and stared at the bottom of Jules’ bed. He really just wanted to disappear for a couple of days.

---

“Mom, where do you go all the time?”

A small child curled in his mother’s lap stared into her eyes, patiently awaiting an answer. The mother softly smiled, stroking her son’s soft blue hair.

“Mom has made many mistakes so she needs to fix them.”

“Can‘t they just forgive you?”

“Not when they are very sad.”

The kid rolled out of his mother’s lap and onto his belly, pondering. Pouting, the child thought hard on whether he should share his idea. The mother laughed lightly.

“Mom?”

“Yes honey?”

“Can I help make those people happy?”

“Do you want to come with me?”

“Can I really?”

“Of course. If I bring the girl I’m helping right now here will you help her?”

“I will do whatever I can to make her happy!”

The mother pulled her small son into a hug, the son hugging her back tightly.

That night, the father was busy with work in another city, so the mother brought a little girl home for a day.

“Miss Anna, thank you so much.”

“Aren’t you so polite?”

The mother stroked the girl’s cheek as she lead her into the little home. Simple as it was, it was homely. The girl settled on the couch while waiting for the mother to grab snacks from the kitchen. A little head poked from behind a door she didn’t know of. The others lead to the bathroom and the parent’s room so this one had to have been their child’s. Mother entered with the snacks, placing them gently onto the table in front of the couch. The little boy scurried from behind the door to behind his mother, watching the girl.

“Honey, did you already forget what you said earlier today?”

The boy shook his head frantically and stepped out from behind, introducing himself.

“I’m Simon, what’s your name?”

The blue haired boy waited anxiously, not expecting the long pause. He played with his hands as his at first confident eyes broke contact with hers as he looked down to his hands.

“I’m Lethe, but I’m older than you by a year so call me sister.”

The white haired girl smiled as the boy met her gaze with wide eyes, flushed in joy. The two kids chattered away, beams on both their faces. The mother watched at the interaction, lovingly. She quietly said to herself:

“Maybe I should start planning the wedding now.”

Chapter 4: Socialising

Simon’s head throbbed as he pulled his blanket off and got dressed. He couldn’t recall that blissful memory he had dreamed about. What was it about? When was this? Who was I talking to? Questions spiralled in his head as he tried to grasp at the familiar yet blurred feeling. He stood in the common room as he racked his head to no avail.

“Simon! Did you get enough rest? You didn’t stay up too late studying did you?”

Simon spun around to face Azel, who watching him, concerned. He was still quite wary, self-conscious, his eyes flicking to the other people in the room, unintentionally pulling Simon to the edge of the room. Nevertheless, he was a lot better than before, his confidence in his strength radiating from his steady posture and steady breathes. Simon smiled, brushing his thoughts away.

“I’m doing fine, senior Azel.”

He greeted him comfortably in a way others in his year were still too nervous to do. Azel lead him to the canteen, the two taking each a plate and a cup, Simon filling his cup with lemonade, Azel filling his with coffee, chatting of things only geniuses would understand. They sat down after painstakingly trying to discover an empty table.

Breakfast looked anything but simple, from pancakes and different types of breads to porridges, simple soups and stews. Even if picky eaters wouldn’t go hungry, for even foods like toast had different varieties, like how toasted it was and what type of bread it was to where it was made from.

Simon picked up his cutlery as he cut his pancakes into bite sized pieces while listening to Azel, who was complaining about how his simple breakfast of buttered toast and coffee was ruined after having a massive dilemma over which piece of toast he was supposed to pick.

At some point Jules had also wandered over with his own plate and bowl. He quietly greeted Azel and briefly nodded to Simon before sitting next to him and tucking into his breakfast made up of a warm creamy soup with some toast to dip in. The three boys talked casually, with Simon leading the conversation. It was really peaceful. Simon never realised how fun it was to talk to just boys his age about thing they all liked. His mind felt lighter as he gradually forgot about his dream. As the conversation went on, it slowly shifted to yesterday’s opening performance.

“Did Nephthys really make you perform with that saintess or was it just an illusion made by that Endolas Vaudeville?”

Azel looked at Simon curiously. Jules also  tilted his head slightly to hear his response. While Simon was thinking for an answer, Azel, misunderstanding the silence, nervously said, “Please take no offence, I was simply curious, you don’t have to answer.”

“It’s not like that, I did do it willingly. It’s not something that I can’t do.”

Simon calmly responded, hoping his serenity would spread to Azel and calm him down.

“Why did you willingly do it? Even if Nephthys and saintess Israfil are advocating for an alliance and hoping for a reunion, at our current stage, we are still enemies, especially you and her since you represent Kizen and Ephnel respectively.”

“Which is why I took on the role. We have to start somewhere.”

Jules nodded, understanding his response. Azel looked in admiration.

“No wonder Nephthys had you perform at the opening show. As expected, you’re the best candidate for the Dark Alliance representative.”

“You should watch what you say. Not many people here would agree with that. May I sit next to you? There aren’t any empty tables left.”

”O-of course, you are free to do so professor Aaron.”

Aaron thanked the boys as he sat in the seat next to Azel. Jules quietly greeted Aaron, Aaron nodded back. Being Aaron’s disciple, Simon excitedly started talking with Aaron, his joyful demeanour also got a smile out of Aaron.

“Professor! How was your day yesterday?”

“It was fine. It’s truly impressive how you managed to shock everyone yesterday.”

Simon grinned, happy Aaron was casually talking to him. Suddenly, the common room door was kicked open. An angered man began shouting as he walked through the doorway, with many of his supporters behind him desperately trying to stop him from causing destruction.

“He’s an example of someone you boys should not talk freely around. Most people are here because the hold great political power and are influential in the Dark Alliance. We are exceptions, since we’re here because Nephthys directly invited us from Kizen.”

Simon watched as the man was dragged out by other people in the common room, listening to the commotion as a fight broke out. It wasn’t going to be easy trying to unite the two nations.

---

As he walked out the dorm spaces, political conversations turned into whispered gossips as people noticed him. Gossiping of how he was only there because Nephthys was backing him, gossiping of how he was a traitor to the Alliance, gossiping of how he was the second betrayal incident that was yet to come. He listened carefully, he wasn’t supposed to act out. They were right. He was only there because Nephthys brought him there. He turned the corner to the fountain outside of the ballroom.

Lunch was supposed to be held in an hour with everyone yet a crowd had already gathered. It was expected; even if they were here to be united, factions were bound to form. It’s impossible to expect perfect harmony, after all it was humans they were dealing with.

He scanned the crowds and noticed a glimpse of white in the corner of his eye, belonging to the white hair of a girl. Desperate to not lose track of her, he turned and ran after her, both disappeared into a side building.

A light blue haired girl walked, confused, searching for the boy who she thought she had seen.

Chapter 5: Made with love

As the boy walked down the path, noise and clamour grew louder. At the end of the hidden path revealed a small doorway. Noises of clanging and sizzling with the shouts and screams. Aromas and steam wafted out around the fabric in place of a door.

Beyond the doorway, behind the fabric, revealed a kitchen full of frantic chefs from the federation, union and neutral zone running around, desperate to get their dishes ready before it was caught in between the action between the two of the head chefs, likely from the federation and the union respectively. Despair on the faces of many chefs who’s dishes were thrown at the head chef by the other head.

Unwilling to get involved, the boy quickly snuck past around the kitchen, taking advantage of the chaos to pass through unnoticed, entering into a small corridor. Sunlight shone through the window panes, the slightly dust air glittered, gentle footsteps echoed as he walked on the wooden floor.

On the other side of the window, the commotion of people’s arguments, fights and laughters could be heard. Childish taunts, chasing like they were playing tag, giggling like they got their friends pranked. He watched the people. Even if they were human, even if there were disagreements, on the inside they were still children.

Reaching the door at the end of the corridor, he reached out and twisted the handle. Letting himself in, he silently closed the door behind him. A small kitchen, unused but clean. Pans sat neatly in cupboards and bowls, cups and plated stacked carefully on a shelf. There, standing at next to the counter, a girl was mixing ingredients diligently.

“Lethe?”

She spun around, startled, only just noticing the presence behind her.

She’s just like a rabbit.

He thought to himself.

“Bastard.”

Unconsciously, he swung his head violently to the side as a knife flew past his head, shaving the tips of his hair off. Behind him, the knife pierced through the metal pan hanging on the wall. Blue strands cascaded towards the floor as Lethe smirked victoriously. He laughed nervously.

Maybe not a rabbit then.

He raised his hands in submission, thankful to his professors and his reflexes.

“What are you doing? If someone saw me, they’d think I was threatening you.”

Lethe said, smiling viciously. Simon uneasily shifted.

“Well I would appreciate some help. Come here, I’m baking some pies for lunch. I’m making two of each flavour; lemon, raspberry and dates maybe. Oh and I also want to bake a cake. I feel an orange cake would be good. I think I also saw cookie cutters in that drawer, so I also want to bake cookies but that comes after everything else. Maybe I’ll just keep the cookies later.”

Simon’s expression relaxed as Lethe listed everything. She looked back at him, eyes gleaming.

“You better not back out now.”

“Then we should get started.”

Simon smiled. She dragged him towards the sink, passing him the soap bar. After barely being able to dry his hands, he had an apron thrown at him. Throwing it on, he reached to tie it up but was beaten by Lethe who deftly tied it in a second.

“You’re too slow.”

Lethe muttered from behind him. Simon froze as he felt the warmth of her breath hit the back of his neck. The sun weaved itself through the cracks of the door, illuminating his flushed face. Every part of him wanted to lean onto her.

What do I do…

Grabbing his arm, she dragged him towards the counter, snapping him out of his trance.

“If you’re not going to do anything but slow me down, you might as well get out.”

Lethe said grumpily, while grabbing more mixing bowls from a nearby cupboard.

“Didn’t you just say you could do with some help?”

“I take that back. Anyone else would be better than you. Anyone else would have already been making the crust by now.”

He chuckled, watching as she silently captured his heart in ways he never knew before.

Her snow-white hair glittered as it peaked out from under her hat. Her ponytail fluttered around like the wind as she strode back to the counter in the confident demeanour she always carried herself in, then passed a bowl to him.

There were so many reasons why he loved her, why he wanted and needed her, and day by day the list grew longer and longer.

“Copy what I’m doing, I’m following Miss Anna’s recipe today so you better not disgrace her, you hear me?”

“Mm, of course I won’t.”

“You better keep your word,” Lethe spoke sternly. He felt slightly uneasy but just left it to be.

She started at once, gently shaking the sugar and salt into her bowl. He shuffled over towards her, leaning over to grab the ingredients, roughly measuring them out by eye and added them to the bowl, lightly mixing them all together.

Then they added the small chunks of butter. After months of practicing cooking and baking, Lethe skilfully mixed in the butter  into a creamy paste. Simon, however, looked between their bowls, bewildered, and desperately tried to copy her, but in the end he failed. Lethe, noticing, grabbed his hands and guided him, causing Simon to feel sheepish.

“Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t do it? Here, it’s like this.”

Despite her remarks earlier, she slowly helped him, gently steering his hands.

“Do you get it now?”

“Yeah, I think I’ve gotten a hang of it now. Thank you!”

She blushed, thrown off by his really sincere gratitude.

“Well of course you should thank me for teaching you.”

Silence fell between them. Feeling embarrassed, they each went to their respective bowls and carried on working on making the crust, adding in flour. Puffs of powder rose from Lethe’s bowl as she poured the flour in.

She looks so pretty right now.

Returning his gaze back to the bowl, he carried on mixing the flour into the mixture. As the mood softened as time went by, small melodies leaked into his ears.

Slowly, he poured the ice water, letting trickle into the bowl, watching it twirl like it was dancing to the music, mixing it in delicately before taking the mixture out to be rolled into a ball and rolled out.

“Hmm, that took a bit longer than I thought it would. At least we’ve got all the crusts made now.”

She lined six pie pans with the crusts, fitting each one snuggly into they’re cases.

“Can you grab some small bowls?”

“Okay!”

Simon reached up, taking a couple of bowls off the shelf. He glanced to a basket full of fruits by his side.

“Should I bring this over?”

“Mhm, we need it to make the pie fillings.”

Balancing the bowls and baskets, he cautiously took them to the counter. Partway, Lethe looked over and sighed, snatching a couple bowls of him after watching them wobble precariously for a few seconds.

At the counter, in the small bowls, they mashed the raspberries first, adding in sugar and a little bit of flour to thicken the paste, adding a splash of mint extract for a refreshing taste. Pouring the paste into two of the pans, they covered it with some of the excess dough. Then on top, each had a leaf of mint, sitting aesthetically on top.

“Wow… did we really make this?”

“What are you doing? We’re not done yet, we’ve still got four more to go.”

“Right, which flavour are we making now?”

“Here.”

She passed him half of the apples in the basket and a handful of dates.

“You’ll need to cut the apples first then cook them so they become soft. If you don’t understand, just watch me.”

“I’m fine, I’ve watched my mum do it before.”

He sliced the apples, removing the seeds and stems, and then took it to the frying pan. After throwing in the apples, he sprinkled a bit of cinnamon, showered it with some brown sugar and a little butter. After the apples soften, he threw in the dates that he ripped into small pieces, some water and stirred everything together.

Watching from a couple steps away, Lethe looked impressed, while her attention alternated between him and her pan.

“You’re not that bad.”

Simon grinned.

“Thanks, it must be because you’ve been so good at giving instructions.”

They both poured the fillings into two pans, lacing the remaining dough on top. Only two empty crusts were left. They looked at the remaining ingredients.

“Can you juice the lemons while I mix the eggs with the condensed milk?”

“Sure, pass me them.”

Lethe threw each of the lemons towards Simon, and swiftly he caught every one of them. Cutting each into halves, he then squeezed out the liquid, letting it splatter into the small bowl.

Meanwhile, Lethe whipped the eggs together, smoothly adding the condensed milk, the swirls of white and orange slowly integrating into a single pastel orange colour.

Simon passed the lemon juice to Lethe, who quickly added it to the mixture and poured it into the remaining two pans. Simon grated the leftover lemon skins and sprinkle the rinds on to the top of the two lemon pies.

The pair took a step back to admire the pies they had made in a matter of just over 40 minutes. All that was left was to cook them. Gently, they slid the pies into the oven together.

Lunch was in 20 minutes but dessert wasn’t served until an hour later.

“I guess the orange cake will have come another day.”

Lethe looked slightly downcast. Feeling troubled by her upset look, Simon tried to cheer her up.

“It’s a shame but we can still make some biscuits. I think shortbreads should be simple enough to make quickly. I also saw some white chocolate, we can dip the shortbreads in that.”

Lethe looked at him surprised and smiled.

“Sure let’s do that.”

The two quickly made the dough for the shortbread after smushing together some flour, butter and sugar.

“I think I saw the cookie cutters somewhere around here….”

Drawers were pulled and cupboards opened as Lethe flung around to find the cutters. Simon laughed as he watched her; she forgot she had already taken it out.

“Hey! Stop laughing and help me out!”

“They’re right here, come back.”

Flustered, she stormed back with a small bottle of blue food dye. Reaching for the flour, she grabbed a handful and threw it at him, dusting his hair with a layer of white, giving it a gradient.

He smirked at her while pulling her towards him. Feeling pissed, she pushed him away and rolled out the shortbread dough.

“Wait I’m sorry for laughing.”

She continued ignoring him and cut out little stars from the dough with the cutters. Guiltily, he approached her, only for him to have to go again.

“Go melt the chocolate and add in the food colouring.”

“Okay….” Simon replied dejected. He walked towards the stove, watching the white chocolate melt as he added in five drops of the blue food dye.

While he was melting the chocolate, Lethe slid the shortbreads into the oven as well and glanced at his back.

“These are for dinner so they don’t need to be ready now. You can stop melting the chocolate.”

She paused for a second before continuing.

“Are you upset with me? You know I’m not mad about earlier.”

Simon ignored her and carried on mindlessly stirring the chocolate. Lethe walked over and turned off the stove. She pulled his face to face hers. Simon looked away, still feeling guilty.

“Just forget about it, it’s not that big of a deal. Come on we need to change for lunch, we’ve only got 10 minutes left. Shouldn’t we match our outfits again?”

Simon finally looked at her, eyes wide, cheeks pink. Having finally convinced him, Lethe smiled and dragged him out of the kitchen, holding his hand, but also making sure to lock the door before they left.

She pulled him through the corridor, the light bouncing off her hair as she ran, pulling him into the light again. He let himself be led through the doorway to the kitchen and outside again, his energy restored as he breathed the air around him and bathed in the sunlight. Lethe spun round and smiled gently, eyes curved slightly at the edges, drawing him in.

“I’m sorry.”

Simon let out an apology.

“Glad you know you’ve made things difficult for me just then. Should we go see what we should wear now?”

A small nod and the two ran together towards the changing rooms.

Notes:

Sorry for not uploading for a while so here’s a longer chapter!
For this chapter, I’ve always wanted the two to cook together. The only times we’ve seen Simon cook was for his friends but Lethe has cooked for him lots of times so why not have them cook together. Couple goals!

NB. I don’t actually bake so please don’t follow the recipes or I might cause a fire without realising. (It’s why I didn’t add measurements, I can’t be trusted in the kitchen at all! Of course the only exception is to raid the fridge.)

Chapter 6: Would she or would she not

As the two arrived to the changing rooms, their disheveled states made the people wonder what they did. Clothes ruffled and their hair a mess, the imaginations ran wild as they brewed exaggerated stories in their minds.

However the two had no time to pay attention to those around them, they had promised Israfil that they would be ready to head into the lunch gathering on time. Nervously, the two quickly separated, afraid to face the wrath of a saintess from the Cross family. Not like they would make it on time anyways, but the earlier the better.

They hurriedly split up, servants surrounding each in a blink. Each driven into a wardrobe as the servants discussed what to make them wear. Suits and dresses thrown aside. What colour suits them, which style is best, should it be simple or not. What they were to wear became such a problem that they were forced to try each outfit, treated at the same level as mannequins for a short while.

Eventually, each found their match. Simon and Lethe, coincidentally wearing matching shirts, navy and pale yellow respectively, and grey trousers, reunited again after their appearances were fixed up.

Walking out of the room, Simon swung around his arms as he checked his outfit, almost absentmindedly walking into Lethe.

“We need to go now, we’re already pretty late.”

Lethe grabbed his wrist and walked quickly towards the lunch hall entrance, dragging Simon along, who had just noticed their matching outfits.

Surprised, he shook off her hand and walked beside her, watching her which were concentrated on the doors in front of them.

“You look nice,” Simon complimented her sincerely.

“Shut up,” Lethe looked away, embarrassed. Shortly after she turned to look at him, “you don’t look too bad either.”

Striding into the lunch hall, the two made their entrance. Apparently they weren’t the only ones late as a quarter of the attendees hadn’t arrived yet. Regardless the pressure of all the high ranking people was heavy.

As hard as it was to ignore the people, it was possible by focusing on each other. As they walked towards the tables, searching for their seats, a stern voice jolted them awake from their little bubble.

“Where were you two? Why are you so late?”

Their eyes widened as they spun around, feeling a chill down their spines. Israfil looked down at them, expecting an answer. Her intent behind her mask horrifyingly contrasted with her sweet smile.

“Never mind, this isn’t too big of a deal but make sure to be early for dinner,” she sighed, not wanting to put too much pressure on the two kids she loved dearly.

“Go and take the time to enjoy yourselves for as long as you can.”

She left and sat on her seat near the top of the room, where all the people who wielded power amongst all these already important people, sat. She settled comfortably into her seat, though inconspicuously.

She unconsciously watched them sit in their own seats, not next to hers but close, however far from the rest of their talented classmates that also were brought along. At those heights, a perfect image was important even if they were in their youths.

Simon and Lethe continued their light chatter, quiet enough to not disturb anyone but they still attracted harsh glances from elders.

“Strutting around with a necromancer, a commander at that. Does she not have any pride at all? Where is her loyalty to the Goddess?”

“Back in my days, we would have fought with all we had to leave at least a scratch on a commander, even if it cost our lives. She is shameless if she still considers herself a daughter of the Goddess.”

Israfil moved her gaze towards the elders, sending a glare their way. They turned around, sending hostility, only to be greeted with Israfil’s intense attention. Feeling docile all of a sudden, they made a small bow and scuttled away to the walls, out of her sight.

She heard a small rustle beside her, a presence she hadn’t noticed before. There weren’t many people who could hide themselves from her so just who was it?

“Present yourself properly, there are people around,” Jane Olivia said, scolding Nephthys, who was sitting beside Israfil, as she made her way towards the childlike figure and pinched her ear.

Nephthys looked up, crumbs of the appetisers dotted around her mouth like stars. Despite the messy look, not a single look of disdain went towards her direction; fear of the witch of death was universal, necromancers and priests alike.

“Sure I will. What was the point of my reputation if I can’t do as I like with it,” Nephthys sighed as she scoffed down the rest of the appetisers near her and wiped her face with her sleeve.

“What do you want coming here?” Israfil questioned Nephthys coldly, her smile a thin curve, emanating hostility.

“Food?” Nephthys tilted her head slightly, directing her smirk towards Israfil. “Also, why wouldn’t I come here, my seat is here after all.”

Israfil, about to retort, was interrupted as a flurry of chefs appeared, placing dishes across the tables, shielding Nephthys from Israfil’s remarks.

When they left, Israfil soon abandoned the idea to argue, instead picking up her cutlery to start feasting on the food. Likewise, Jane did the same and so did Nephthys, although way more eagerly than the other two.

Nephthys looked up for a moment, sending a glance to Israfil, before opening her mouth again:

“No opening speech?”

“I can do that in the evening. You haven’t done yours either.”

“Likewise I will do it in the evening as well. I’ll let you have the opening, I’ll have the ending. It’s going to be Jane saying the speech anyways.”

Jane silently ate her food, ignoring her superior’s petty feuds with the saintess.

“Simon and Lethe Chardena seem to be getting in pretty well,” Nephthys said, nudging Jane while attempting to conceal her stealing the last potato on the platter before Jane could reach out to take it.

Jane turned to watch them. They were eating comfortably, as if the tensions of being a necromancer and priest never existed.

Lethe nudged Simon, pointing to the jar of orange juice.

“Can you pass me the jar?”

He reached across the table, taking the jar, pouring the juice into her glass and then his own.

“Thank you for your gentlemanly service,” Lethe said, as she watched him pour, watching his expression change to slight embarrassment.

“How would it be a complete service if this was it? Let me offer you some of this as well, they’re really nice, one of my favourites,” responded Simon, holding a plate of savoury pancakes that were on his side of the table in front of her.

Amused by his antics, she raised her utensils, she accepted a couple and placed them onto her plate, cutting them up into bite size pieces and had a taste.

“They’re actually nice, surprisingly. Here have some.” She picked up another piece, leaning in her elbows, moved her fork towards Simon’s mouth.

“Try it, it’s your favourite after all.” A sly smile appeared on her face as she watched him hesitate.

Last time on the train she had a hidden spoon but this time there weren’t any extra  forks that he could see and knowing they had the same utensils, he knew she definitely didn’t have another one hidden somewhere.

Nervously, he leaned in and took a bite, his lips meeting the same fork she had eaten from earlier. Instantly, he moved away from the fork once he had the food in his mouth, chewing it and gulped it down, completely flustered.

His eyes flicked between the fork he just ate from and Lethe, with a mixture of emotion that he didn’t understand, only feeling the stress of them, impatiently yearning to know what it to happen with it.

Lethe leaned towards him, holding the fork lazily in the air.

“It’s okay, I won’t eat from it,” she whispered in his ear, knowing he would not being able to handle the chaos in the mind if she had carried on using it.

She loosened her grip and allowed the fork slip from her hand to the ground, letting it clang on the ground. Feigning surprise, she looked around and reached out to get the attention of a servant, politely requesting another fork.

After watching the whole scene, Simon’s mind raced. Of course she wasn’t going to eat from the fork he ate from, she was the type of person who minded and cared about every interaction she had.

For the rest of lunch, his mind stayed messy and time blurred, constantly not being able to forget what happened.

Notes:

i’ve got nothing to say for why i’ve been gone for so long…
though it is nice to see more fics since i’ve last been on

Notes:

The two nations planned an alliance and hosted a large scale masquerade ball to do so. In the background, Simon and Lethe’s security job had just ended right after the ball. And though Lethe doesn’t realise it, Simon really cares and loves her.