¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It took Vivian a few moments to actually adjust to the new emoticon feature. I expected as much. I imagine that she was not anticipating such a rudimentary technique to be used to announce my intentions to her. In fact, maybe she hadn’t even seen sillily drawn faces since she was a child.

Of course, everything would have been easier if the goddess had simply given me the ability to speak to Lady Greymoor, but in lieu of that, I had been left with few other options.

“Is it messed up again?” Vivian speculated, tapping the surfaces of the emoticons, spreading digital ripples across the interface, “It doesn’t seem broken, everything else is here. Maybe it’s a new feature that’s trying to tell me something?”

Yes, correct.

“Is everything okay, Lady Greymoor?” Emily asked, “You’re staring off into space again.”

“Yes, yes, everything is okay,” Vivian replied, “Would you mind doing me a favor and fetch some desserts from downstairs?”

Emily descended the spiral steps into the dining hall while Vivian stayed and continued to study the faces on her screen. It concerned me slightly that it was taking her this long to discern their meaning, but part of me retained hope that the universality of the emoji would win the day after she looked past their eccentricities.

“Happy face, sad face,” Vivian mumbled, “So…these happy expressions are good, while the sad or angry expressions are bad…”

Yes. Correct.

“Which means my current attributes like willpower, intelligence, and personality. They’re set, they’re good, right?”

Yes.

Wait.

No.

“Which means I still need to increase my strength, stamina, speed, and luck.”

No.

No, that’s not what I meant at all.

“Well, if that’s what’s recommended, let’s just go with that for now.”

It’s not recommended.

And yet, Vivian dumped yet another point into luck with that sweet satisfied look on her face and closed the interface again before I could overwhelm her display with thousands and thousands of angry emoticons.

(╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

(ಠ_ಠ)

(*￣m￣)

(＞д＜）

That’s when I realized everyone had been wrong all this time about universal languages and signs and symbols; all it took was for someone with no visual acuity or a complete lack of media literacy to come along and immediately undermine what should otherwise have been a universal symbol. What was the point of reading all those books in your father’s study if you couldn’t interpret the difference between a happy and upset expression?

I considered retaliating. I was angry, and if I had a face, I’m sure it would have looked like an amalgamated monstrosity of all the different unhappy emoticons I had compiled and drawn.

But I realized that it wouldn't do any good. At best it would be self-servicing, and at worst Vivian might assume her magical artifact was broken or defective. I could flip the emoticons around. Maybe that way, Vivian might realize the interface was trying to communicate with her, but at this point, she had already confused them once, what was stopping her from confusing herself again?

My slowly dwindling sense of self-worth was salvaged by Emily's return, who with wary steps brought with her a new guest. A surprise; this was perhaps the first time in many events that anyone had come upstairs to greet Vivian Greymoor.

The guest was a woman dressed in an ornate, almost medieval themed, feathered dress. She wore an oversized witch’s hat which covered all but her scarlet smirk and long braided hair. As she approached, her right hand, with each finger hoisting a ring fit with a different gemstone, lifted the edge of her hat, revealing a pair of alluring gold eyes.

"The Astral Viscountess," Vivian bowed, "you honor me."

"Please, it's always Diane to you, Vivian," the Viscountess smiled, lowering her hand, “Don’t mind me, I’ve been busy making the rounds at the party meeting the lovely gentleman that my husband has bribed, and now I need a breath of fresh air.”

“I appreciate your cordiality, but if you don’t mind my candidness, I’m kind of bad news at the moment.”

“Hah!” Diane laughed, “No, Vivian, I’m bad news. The imperial court is trying to woo the mages into a war frenzy and I’ve pulled the Enchanters Guild out of the circles. Did you know that for every Enchantress in your ranks, you save a dozen men?”

“Did my father talk to you?”

“No, common sense did.”

“And the rest of the mages? Are they siding with you?”

“Of course not! I’m bad news, weren't you listening?” Diane sighed, “The mages have lined up and are ready to fight when the Peace Decree is repealed. Your father is a commendable man, but he will never achieve the votes possible. The aristocracy is aligned on this and you Greymoors are always the idealists on the wrong side of the aisle.”

“And the Viscount?”

“I don’t know what he does, I haven’t spoken to him since he slept with the gardener’s daughter. Besides, I’m more interested in you, Vivian. We haven’t spoken since the academy days.”

“Well, maybe that’s because you graduated top of your class, while I possessed no affinity for magic.”

“You graduated with distinctions in spite of having no affinity for magic, please don’t turn this into a sob story,” Diane rolled her eyes, “But I’m sorry the prince didn’t see it that way. I really am.”

“The prince will witness what he’s missing when I attend the Royal Ball,” Vivian said.

“You and defending your honor, when will you ever learn?” Diane chuckled, “And what are you going to do? Have Em here dress you in your nicest dress? Charm him with your social etiquette? What do you have, Vivian, that can make a man of royal stature look away from a girl blessed with Avalon?”

I found myself agreeing with the Viscountess. Up until this point, revenge against the prince for spurning Vivian’s romantic affections was an idea that sounded good on paper. I was on board if only because it felt like a major quest in a game to complete. But when Diane verbalized how that revenge might play out in practice, it dawned on me that Vivian was even less prepared than I had feared.

“What do you think I should do then?” Vivian said, “Allow the others to continue openly mocking me within earshot? Sit quietly when my love runs off with the wrong woman?”

Again, there echoed that specific heartwarming timbre of Vivian’s voice whenever the prince arrived into the conversation. One could hear it in the subtle tenderness when she referred to “my love” or the strained heartache at the mention of the “wrong woman.” It was clear, to me at least, that she truly (and perhaps still) loved him, and the deference in her voice that she held only for him nipped away at me.

“Vivian dear, if all this is getting to you, you’ve already lost,” Diane shook her head, “Emily, I warned you she was like this.”

“My apologies, Lady Astral.” Emily bowed.

“And look, Vivian, while I sympathize,” Diana stepped forward and lifted Vivian’s hands into her own. As she did, the Astral Viscountess froze for almost an imperceptible second, “What do you have here, Vivian?”

Diane’s fingers had crept up Vivian’s palm and onto her wrist, where they were brushing against the magical bracelet.

“This? It’s a bracelet. My grandfather gave it to me.”

“Is it? Interesting,” Diane’s hands moved to her face, where she rubbed her chin thoughtfully. Vivian and Emily watched uncomfortably as she paced back and forth briefly along the staircase, “Are you really intent on all this revenge business, Vivian?”

“What?”

“Getting revenge,” Diane repeated, “It’s what you want?”

“Y-yes.”

“So be it then,” Diane smiled, “Now I must be off, I’m afraid I’ve lingered here a little too long and I must return to the other guests. Come back to the estate tomorrow and ask for me. I’d like to speak more about this after a good night’s reading.”

The Astral Viscountess delivered a capricious curtsy and began to descend the stairs. Halfway down, she stopped and turned back to Lady Greymoor and her maid. A curious sparkle danced in her eyes.

“And Vivian? Bring the bracelet with you.”