Chapter 4:

The Girl in the Gilded Castle

She Can't Be That Perfect!!


Dark leather, dim lighting and an opaque, soundproof partition between them and the driver. Amy peers through the small opening and catches his features in the rear-view mirror. Prominent cheek bones, a hard-set brow and serial killer eyes glaring right back at her.

A sharp breath, “Eep!”

“I see you’ve met Radu,” Mia says, amused. She gives him a wave and he nods. The opening closes with a whir. “Don’t worry, he’s a sweetheart.”

“He probably bites the heads off live chickens and collects letter openers,” Amy mutters to herself.

Mia stifles a chuckle, coiling her hand tightly around Amy’s arm. For good reason. Looking out the window, she wants to jump out of the car. The tightly-packed houses she’s known all her life have metamorphosised into villas, mansions and manors with yards trimmed to the millimetre consuming the land. Their stop is marked by a gate decorated with two gold lion heads.

“Welcome to – The Gilded Castle,” the robotic voice of the navigation announces.

“The Gilded Castle?” Amy asks.

“Father likes nicknames. It’s just a house.”

Just a house? It’s a marble palace boasting a hundred rooms and an interminable staircase that’s bound to take her to heaven and back. By the time Amy reaches the top, she’s out of breath. Mia suffers from a different problem altogether. Being at home has the opposite effect Amy expected; instead of relaxing Mia, it makes her fidgety. She hovers before the door, unsure whether to open it or not. Doesn’t matter anyway, it opens by itself.

“Are you all right?” Mia jolts.

Amy forces her mouth in a tight-lipped smile. She’s still panting. “Yep! Just getting my cardio in.”

“You’re awfully pale… You sure?”

“Haven’t you heard? I’m a vampire.”

“Should I ask for some blood, then?” Mia says, at ease enough to proceed inside. “Wouldn’t want a guest of honour to feel uncomfortable.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

That ship has sailed. As she enters the ivory lobby, The Gilded Castle blasts her with an abominable gust of cool air. It’s a warning that she should return, abstain from trespassing. Her steps echo on the polished floor, a hollow sound that only reminds Amy how small she is, how she’ll never fit in with the enormity Mia finds so easy to navigate. But she’s a guest of honour. Much as she hates that label, it gives Amy the strength to follow Mia through the winding hallways.

“Where are we going?” Amy asks. No answer. Mia’s a line of tension, walking with quiet paces close to the wall. She’s constantly searching for something high up on the walls, her head jerking towards every hint of noise coming from far down the corridor. Why is she so on edge? Is something wrong?

Turning the first corner, Amy understands. A camera. It’s turning towards her, its mechanical chirr bone-chilling. Amy wants to run, but her legs are two rigid rods. She can’t be seen here, her presence forever recorded. However, just when the camera is about to glance over her, it slouches with a dying cry, its LED light turning off.

“Mia!” an excited call rings through Amy’s ears. A flash of white soon passes before her eyes, followed by a soft thud. When she looks at Mia, she finds a small girl locking her in a tight hug. The curious thing is her attire, a well-worn Astella uniform with subtle sutures crossing the loose seams.

Mia chuckles and pats the girl’s twin buns, “Ellie!” She leans closer to Ellie whispering something in her ear. Amy doesn’t catch it but can’t miss Ellie blushing and beaming even brighter. Only that joy is gone when Ellie lets Mia go, turning towards Amy. She approaches slowly, with a blank face and a seeking glare and stops a pace away.

“H-hi! I’m Amélie… b-but you can call me –“

Ellie captures Amy in a vicious cinch, her tiny frame belying the gargantuan strength she’s capable of. It’s an embrace that feels like torture.

“Amy! Mia told me about you! You’re so cute!”

“Ellie… Ellie, I c-can’t breathe.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Ellie releases Amy.

“How is everything?” Mia interjects. Ellie snaps at attention.

“Stage 1 is all set! Stage 2… should be too.”

“Should?”

Mia’s concern feels like scolding to Ellie. She deflates like an anxious child.

“I… couldn’t check last night. He got suspicious. I’m sorry.”

“I see. It’s fine, Ellie.”

“Are you s-sure?”

“I’m sure you did your best.”

“What are you talking about?” Amy chimes in with a nervous laugh. Ellie and Mia share a knowing look.

“Housekeeping,” Mia replies. There’s not a trace of discomfort left in her system. Her confidence is almost too sudden, like a ploy.

“With… stages?”

“It’s a big place. We can’t handle things without a battle plan.”

“And getting him suspicious?”

“Father likes surprises, but only when he can barely see them coming. It’s a difficult balance to strike.”

“Don’t you have servants to take care of –“

“How about –” Eline intervenes, seizing Amy’s hand. Her grip is harsh and aggressive, stopping just short of breaking bones “–we stop talking about it. I’m sure you haven’t come here to be bored to death.”

“Right?” Mia doubles down. Amy gets the message. Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.

“Right,” Amy mutters. “Then what are we doing?”

Mia’s been waiting for this question for so long. Her reaction is so giddy, her usual calm barely contains it. “I was thinking we’d watch a film. Sound good?”

“Sure,” Amy says cautiously.

“Brilliant! Let’s go then!”

Mia turns on her heels and leads the way, her feet almost skipping across the tiles. Amy expects Ellie to be right by her side, but instead she hangs back. Is she waiting for me? Sure enough, when Amy gives chase, Ellie slots in right behind her, like a rear guard to a prison escort.

By now, Amy’s sure something sketchy is going on, but she keeps silent. It’s probably just her and her issues, only amplified by the feeling of being a country bumpkin visiting the royal court. They pass by a library, a home gym, a swimming pool, an arcade, all of them obvious from the hallway. There are barely any doors in The Gilded Castle; it’s all a giant display of wealth.

At last, they reach their destination, a soundproof curtain hiding a home theatre inside. A table packed with gourmet snacks and beverages rests between two armchairs.

“All right, have fun!” Ellie says. “I’m off to do my chores!”

Mission complete, Amy thinks, before shaking her head free of conspiracies. She’s spent too much time with her guard raised to be able to lower it. But really, there’s no reason to worry. Mia’s already chosen her seat and pressed play. Even in the dim lights, Amy can feel her sneaking wishful peeks, waiting for her to join in.

Amy sighs, steadying her nerves. “What are we watching?” she says, the cushion catching her with a loud boof. Mia points at the screen, just as the title card fades in, “Insurgency.” A story about how a strong enough will can upheave the natural and preternatural orders of humanity. An interesting pick and a favourite of Amy’s. Normally, nothing could distract her from it. But, ever since the first frame, she couldn’t take her eyes off Mia.

She watches her mouthing the lines of the titular character, bracing herself right before a loud noise or a scary visual comes on, blushing in anticipation of the cutesy scenes sprinkled throughout. It’s – well, it’s cute. Seeing her like this, chin tucked in her knees and popcorn filling her cheeks like a chipmunk, she’s just a normal girl of seventeen. No otherworldly beauty, no status to uphold, no disingenuity.

When the film’s almost over, Mia’s head bobs up. She’s forgotten something.

“What colour?” she blurts out, flushed.

“Huh?”

Mia clears her throat and collects herself, “Who’s your favourite girl from the film? What colour?”

“Oh, right! Hmm, I’ll say the red one. She’s a bit abrasive and hard-headed, but she’s quite caring and thoughtful at her heart. Reminds me of my best friend.”

“Huh…” Mia exhales, a disappointed tinge stuck at the back of her throat. She shivers slightly, then blinks back to reality. “That’s nice.”

“Yours?”

Glee comes back on her face, but weighed down by something. Did I say the wrong thing?

“I’ve always loved the black one. She’s fighting someone so strong with almost total control over her world, feeding her an illusory reality. And she defeats it! I… relate to her, I think.”

Mia sniffles without tears, then chuckles, a bitter sentiment. “That’s a lie. I think I just want to be like her. But I’m not good enough.”

“Well, her enemies were a bunch of cute critters. You can definitely kick the shit out of one of those.”

“Heh, how do you figure?”

“I’ve seen you play football.”

“Footballs don’t give you emotional damage with philosophy!”

“How do you know? Ever talked to one?”

“N-no?”

“That’s what I thought. I got hit in the head by one, once. It mumbled some horrible, evil things to me.”

“Like what?”

“Come closer. They were so evil I can only whisper them.”

Whether intrigued or simply playing along, Mia leans in over the table. When Amy does the same, there’s no longer a chasm between them. She could say anything to Mia and she’ll believe it and it’ll make her happy. But words aren’t necessary. Amy puckers her lips and blows a puff in Mia’s ears. She retreats at once.

“Ow! You jerk!”

But she doesn’t mean that, because soon after she erupts in a laugh like a symphony of bells. It’s too infectious for Amy to resist. After a good minute, the film finally ends and the lights turn back on. It’s been a while since she’s seen Mia’s face clearly. She wasn’t as red when they came in and her features were much stiffer.

They sit staring at each other with Amy wondering – no, eager for what comes next. It’s a strange emotion, her heart feels like a fizzy drink and the shadows in the corners of vision are slowly returning. A muted buzzing comes through, insisting when Mia ignores its first call. She reaches into her dress, Amy envying her pockets.

“Oh…” Mia mutters. Warmth flees the room as she gets up, face white as chalk and body trembling like a bird in a blizzard. She gives Amy a fearful glance, then her phone, then the door, then Amy again, before slowly backing away.

“What’s wrong?” Amy asks.

“N-nothing… I just have some business to attend to. I’m sorry.”

“What kind of business?”

Just business.” Her voice doesn’t strike, it cuts. Clean and sharp, like a cleaver. Then it pleads, shy and low. “Please, stay here until I return.”

Amy wants to ask why, but can’t bring herself to. When she looks at Mia, she finds Miss Astella instead. The constant cadence of her steps clops a decrepit rhythm as they draw further and further until The Gilded Castle swallows them without a trace. In a second, Amy’s clenching the curtain, weighing her options.

Not for too long, she doesn’t barter with herself. She’s spent a year tailing Mia with only a memory to justify it. Be it the academy or the Astella home, she feels all the same, foreign and out of place. There’s hardly any difference to dissuade her from passing through the curtain and find the answers to all her questions.