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Columbina knocked on the door and entered a spacious, cozy room. The walls were covered with beige and green leaf-patterned paneling, which perfectly complemented the cherry wood furniture. Two armchairs and a sofa upholstered in floral fabric stood around a heavy, oblong table on which stood a tea set with two cups.
“You're right on time,” said Sandrone, pouring tea from the kettle into the cups.
Columbina raised her eyebrows.
“Only two today?” she asked, sitting down in one of the armchairs.
Sandrone looked away.
“That's how it turned out. The rest are... busy.”
“Busy?” she repeated. “I saw Tartaglia in...”
“Does it bother you?” Sandrone muttered. “I can ask you to leave too.”
Columbina smiled.
“No need. I want to stay.”
Sandrone muttered something under her breath.
“Wait a moment, I'll bring some cake,” she said aloud.
“Oh? What kind is it today?” Columbina asked and reached for her tea. She wrinkled her nose. She didn't like the smell.
Sandrone went to the table against the wall and took a knife to cut the cake into pieces.
“Lavender and lemon tart.”
“Sounds delicious. I can't wait.”
Columbina looked over her shoulder when she heard a groan of pain.
“Sandrone? Are you okay?”
“I'm fine,” Sandrone hissed through clenched teeth. She clutched her bleeding hand to her chest to hide it.
Columbina set down her cup of tea and stood up.
“Don't come near me!” Sandrone snapped. “It's nothing, I just cut myself.”
”Let me see. I'll bandage it up.“
”Don't come near me!" Sandrone repeated. “I can manage. I'll be back in a moment.”
She left the room, her hand still pressed against her chest. Columbina sat down, waiting impatiently for her friend. At least, she sincerely hoped Sandrone was her friend. They spent a lot of time together, but Sandrone's coldness sometimes made her unsure.
Marionette went to her office and sat down at a table covered with tools and parts. She turned on the drafting lamp and examined her hand. It was just a cut, oozing red oil. She wiped it clean and turned on the heat gun to warm up her skin-like coating. After a moment, it became soft enough that she could easily repair it with a small chisel, merging the broken coating so skillfully that there was no trace of the cut. She bandaged it to keep up appearances and the secret she carefully guarded from Damselette.
Sandrone returned after a while with her hand bandaged. Without a word, she put the cake on two plates and placed them on the table.
“Does it hurt?” asked Columbina.
Sandrone grimaced and reached for a cup.
“No. Don't worry about me. Drink your tea before it gets cold.”
Columbina fell silent. She reached for the cup and took a sip. She refrained from grimacing, but she didn't like the tea. She got a different tea every time, and she felt like it was getting worse each time. At least the cake was delicious.
One of the Katherynes entered the room, looking agitated.
“Sandrone!” she said. “There's something that needs your attention.”
Marionette sighed.
“What now?”
“Dottore.”
Sandrone rolled her eyes and set her cup down.
“What is it this time?”
“His... research subject... has gotten out of control and is wreaking havoc in the lab.”
“In MY lab?” she asked indignantly. “Where is he now?”
“I don't know. I suspect he's escaped.”
“I'll take him apart and reassemble him in the shape of a toad,” she muttered under her breath, then let out a string of curses. She got up from the table. “I'm sorry, Columbina. I'm afraid we'll have to postpone our tea party. But feel free to finish your tea.”
Damselette cleared her throat and put down her cup.
“No, that's all right,” she said to Sandrone, who was already at the door. “Perhaps I should help you?”
Marionette did not answer and disappeared into the hallway. Columbina pressed her lips together, feeling an unpleasant tightness in her stomach. She cleared the tableware, deliberately doing everything slowly, hoping that Sandrone would return in time. Her hands were shaking, and the tightness in her stomach did not subside.
When she was done, she went out onto the terrace and into the garden. Most of the flowers had already bloomed, and the path was strewn with petals like a multicolored carpet. She sat down on a bench at the edge so she wouldn't lose sight of the terrace exit. She kept glancing in its direction, hoping to see Sandrone return.
She sang until she lost her voice. To her disappointment, Marionette did not come out onto the terrace to threaten to break her vocal cords if she didn't stop. The sun began to set, and with each passing minute, Columbina grew more and more worried. She got up and headed for the terrace, filled with an unbearable, bad feeling, and promised herself that she would go to Sandrone's laboratory against her will. The fading light outside the window made the room seem lonely.
She stepped out into the hallway, where, to her surprise, she saw Marionette. They both froze, looking at each other in disbelief. Sandrone's dress was torn in several places and soaked with bright red blood, and Sandrone herself was holding her wounded arm. Marionette looked away and quickly reached the door of her office.
“Sandrone!” Damselette shouted. “Wait!”
Sandrone did not respond, but entered her office and slammed the door shut. Columbina ran to the door and pressed her ear against it.
“Sandrone, please!” she said, knocking on the door. “Let me in!”
“Go away!” Marionette shouted. Her voice was muffled by the door. “And leave me alone!”
“Please! I'm worried about you!”
Sandrone didn't answer. Columbina could only hear the hum of some tool she couldn't recognize. She pressed the blood-red door handle and pushed. The door was open. She rubbed her fingers over it, feeling that the blood was strange to the touch. It was... slippery. Thick. It looked like blood, but it definitely wasn't.
She slipped inside quietly. Sandrone was too preoccupied to notice that someone had entered her office. She was muttering curses under her breath as she heated the skin on her arm with a heat gun.
Columbina was speechless when she saw her up close.
“San... drone...?” she finally managed to say.
Marionette dropped the heat gun and turned in her chair. Her face was contorted in a mixture of anger and shock.
“I told you to stay away from me! Get out!”
Columbina ignored her outburst.
“You... you're a robot?”
Metal parts were visible in the larger, deeper wounds between the torn skin and blood. Steel bones moved with the help of gears and pistons.
“Get out!” Sandrone shouted in a breaking voice, desperately trying to cover her wounds.
“Sandrone...”
“Get out!” she repeated, on the verge of tears.
Columbina straightened up.
“No. I won't leave. You're hurt, and as your friend, I have a duty to help you.”
“Friend...” Marionette repeated quietly.
“Tell me what to do. Please.”
Sandrone didn't answer. Her shoulders slumped, and her gaze was fixed on the floor. Columbina approached her and knelt down beside her, placing her hand on Sandrone's hands, which were clasped on her knees. Marionette didn't react, didn't even look at her.
“Hey,” she said gently. “I'm here. I'm with you. And I'll stay as long as I need to.”
Sandrone looked at her through teary eyes.
“Really?” she asked softly. “You don't think I'm... a freak?”
Columbina stroked her hands, stained with red oil.
“Come on.” She smiled. “Besides, I have to patch you up so we can finish our date.”
Marionette raised her eyebrows.
“Date?” she repeated and sniffed.
“Isn't that why you invited only me for tea?”
Sandrone snorted and looked away. She didn't answer. She relaxed when Columbina reached out and stroked her cheek. She rubbed against her without looking at Damselette.
“I didn't want you to find out,” she said quietly. “Not like this.”
“You're special to me, Sandrone. Nothing will make me turn away from you. I will stay with you no matter what.”
She rose to her knees and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Marionette froze, but did not pull away. She shyly returned the kiss, tasting Columbina's sweet lips.
“Do you promise?” whispered Sandrone.
“I will stay,” Damselette repeated and kissed her again. “I will stay.”