Chapter Text
Another day. Yet another mission.
Elizabeth Rose Bloodflame sat back as the plane landed in the airport of the Far East. One last time to read through the file. An odd job was given to the Scarlet Queen, Harbinger of Order; but alas, it was at the request of her own father. He and Sir Geppetto had been good friends when they were younger. She remembered the white-haired man with sparkling amused green eyes. The sound of tinkering and metal, the clicking of gears and cogs. Geppetto often mused about having a daughter or a son of his own to Jack when the pair visited him in Immerlands.
Now, to be called by this man to the Far East, Liz had no choice, nor would she have chosen otherwise. To protect something precious, that was her mission. Simple enough, having done her fair share of escort missions. But to be a bodyguard, she could only hope that the old man’s child was as kind as he was.
“Elizabeth,” Geppetto called out to the Great Exardian, waving in the distance, “Over here!” The burly man kept his bushy beard after all this time, still wearing the same pastel green apron with a white collared shirt underneath, simple beige cargo pants to finish the whole look. “You’ve grown so much!”
“Uncle Geppetto!” Liz stepped out of the private jet Jack had let her borrow, giving the man a hug, “it is so nice to see you after all this time.” She peeked over to see a man dressed in a suit, an accessory of a winding key fixed atop similar white hair to the tinker. His outfit came complete with gloves and a guarded look. “An’ you must be Cecil Immergreen.” She stepped back away from the burly man to meet the tinkering prince. The briefing did mention that the young one often switched between Cecil and Cecilia as they wished, “Lovely to see you,” She gave a slight bow, “to see you lovely.” Liz gave the bright smile she had, at least the best she could after a long journey.
Cecil looked away, covering his mouth with a hand. “Be nice,” his father poked his side. “Right,” a light tenor voice, “It is a pleasure to finally meet the one Father keeps talking about.” He bowed back, a hand tucked behind and the other rested in front. The hair shifted to reveal the same light green of her father’s apron. Any of his works had it, and so does his child it seemed. Elizabeth couldn’t help but chuckle. The father and son pair looked at Liz. “Now, now,” Geppetto cleared his throat, turning away from the two. “We must be off.”
“Ah, let me just get my luggage-” Liz turned to the bag when she saw little green beans? carry it off.
“Don’t worry, the otomo got it,” the tinkering prince assured before following his father, “are you coming or what, Miss Bloodflame?” His tone was light, cautiously teasing. The glint in his eye was mixed with careful observation, gauging Elizabeth’s reaction. She quickly followed along, far more focused on the otomo.
The Great Exardian’s eyes sparkled as she followed the little guys. “Ugghh,” an unlady-like noise escaped the enchanted woman, cooing at the otomos with her tone an octave lower to keep her exitement to herself, “they are so cute.” Cecil could only shake his head, barely able to hold back a scoff. This was the woman hired by her father to protect him? Interesting.
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The otomo marched on and up the stairs as the group of three entered the premises. A large mansion, sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of Provincial Far East. Liz might not become as home sick as she thought, the Great Exardian smiled to herself.
“Now,” Geppetto looked at the two as they reached the base of the mansion, “I need to be off to the workshop. Cecil, give Liz the tour.” The old man gave his heir a knowing smile to which he only scoffed at. “I will see you both at dinner.” Without letting either say a word, Geppetto walked off, accompanied by some otomo.
Cecil grumbled something under his breath before fixing his coat. “Follow me,” he pursed his lips, not bothering to look back at Elizabeth before leading the way, “and please try not to touch anything.” Elizabeth hurriedly followed along, careful not to trip on the stairs leading to the hall. Cecil was already at the door, gently tapping a tune on the garnished wood. The door slowly opened, revealing the otomo having opened the door by stacking on one another. Elizabeth held herself from cooing over the green beans as her guide seemed to have no intention in stopping.
The outlay was simple enough, given that there were markers everywhere. And those cute little otomos waddling to and fro. First floor had all the accommodations: music and ballroom, kitchen, dining area, some storage for bits and bobs. Second floor: the study, library and bed chambers. “Yours lie on the east wing, near the library,” Cecil led the way to a guest room, Elizabeth’s luggage having been carefully placed down by the otomos.
“What’s on the west wing?” Curiosity got the better of the Great Exardian as she looked around her new quarters. When only silence answered her, she couldn't help but look at her liege. The boy stood stiff, on guard. Liz pursed her lips. She must have tread on something personal, so she did the only thing she knew to do. “You don’t really have to answer that, ok?” She placed a firm and hopefully reassuring hand on Cecil, “I vow to never go to the west wing if that is your wish.”
The key atop the white hair spun as Cecil’s face shifted from thought to thought, emotion to emotion. Surprise. Confusion. Hope and eventually settling on skepticism. “You vow but on what?” Elizabeth could only assume that because his father wasn’t here, his true colors were showing. She couldn’t help but smile brightly.
“On my pride as a knight, of course,” that earned her a scoff from the stiff prince. Slowly, she will break the ice, Liz silently vowed to herself on top of the one she had just made. Her mentors would surely scold her if they ever find out, but the twinkle in those mint green eyes were somehow convincing her that it would be worth it.
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The two quickly settled in a routine as the days went on. Elizabeth found herself awake early in the morning while the sun has yet to fully rise. Habits die hard, and jetlag even harder. The first day she practically spent wide awake till the sun was up. The second was yet another tour. These early hours of the morning were spent familiarizing herself with her surroundings, learning the lay of the land; and yet even after she was sure she had memorized all that is allowed for her to tread, Elizabeth continued to walk the same paths each morning. They have become her solace.
Sometimes on her jogs, Liz would see those little otomos shuffling about. She would follow the trail of green beans to the nearby factory and back, helping those that somehow managed to topple over and fall on their backs. Adorable little things. And heavy too, Liz quickly realized as she helped yet another that has fallen over. The fifth one just this morning. Perhaps she should bring this up to Cecil. “Don’t you go toppling over now,” she chided the poor bean, watching it go in its merry way. So cute.
After having walked the perimeter of the land, Elizabeth freshened up for the day. Light armour to go with her usual uniform. Simple yet efficient. “You’re overdressed,” Cecil had once said in his usual curt tone. She had learned not to take offence from it as the tinkering prince was simply factual. Elizabeth had removed her cloak in her usual fashion of flames, something that he did not seem to appreciate. Cecil’s brows furrowed as a small frown rested on his face, his eyes focusing on her. Not her eyes, no. But where her cloak was. “Nevermind,” he looked away, focusing back on his work, “put it back on.” And so she did.
Elizabeth then stood at the spot where the east wing met the west, sometimes with a book or two from the library to pass the time. As promised, she did not step foot on the west wing, her curiosity stifled with strict discipline. If strict discipline allowed her to sit and read. Afterwards, they would meet at the junction and go about their day. She would follow Cecil to the lab, keeping an eye out. Other times, he would watch her train and study her movements. He simply clained that it was for research, to which the Scarlet Queen was eager to offer her assistance. Liz would earn a faint smile and that amused look or maybe even that furrowed expression from that time. If it helped, she would be more than willing to assist.
Then they would settle down for dinner before returning to their own wing. As the sun began to rise, the cycle would simply repeat.
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On days where she let her mind idle for far too long, Liz sometimes still berated herself whenever she remembered that first day. What was she thinking? Trespassing boundaries, asking for reasons when he was clearly very closed off? She buried her face in the book that she was no longer reading, groaning into its pages. “What’d the book do this time?” A light teasing tone called Liz out of her thoughts. She looked up to a green skirt accompanied with white polka dots and white frills.
“Miss Immergreen!” Elizabeth scrambled to stand, noticing a black top and even long puffed up sleeves. Lastly, those gloves. Still there as they were with Cecil. And yet, Cecilia had a whole different aura to her. A giggle graced the halls that were usually simply filled with the otomos’ steps. The flame on Liz’s chest flickered as her literal heart felt like it would stop. On top of the white hair was a simple band, winding key atop. She finally stood at full height, dusting off her own skirt. “I didn’t hear you come by.”
“Cecilia,” the tinkering princess said simply, earning a puzzled response from Elizabeth, “Call me Cecilia. None of that Sir or Ma’am stuff.” She finally explained, tone firm yet nonchalant. The Scarlet Queen was almost like a puppy, eyes lit with excitement and hope. She pumped her fist, unable to pull back her excitement from spilling over. She quickly regained her composure, clearing her throat.
“Then if it would please you,” Liz gave a small bow, putting on the air of professionalism, “Call me Elizabeth or Lizzy or anything really-” The same snicker that Cecil had hid away with a hand during their first meeting interrupted her, giving way to the same melodious giggles.
“Liz,” Cecilia decided, starting to walk off already, “we still have the day.” She looked back, a smirk on her lips. “Are you coming or what?” Liz quickly kept the book, following after Cecilia.