Side Chapter: Bel and Her Small Piece of Happiness II

Bel was fond of these brief moments just before dinner as dusk faded into the darkness of night, for this was when she’d be given a good wash while listening to stories of the grandmother she admired. It might, in fact, be her favorite time of day...

She sat in a barrel filled with water as a soft washcloth soaked beside her. In the winter the water was bone-chillingly cold, but in the summer, its chilliness was quite comfortable.

Elise fished out the washcloth, wrung it, and began wiping down Bel’s back. The life of a fugitive, lived in constant hiding, afforded few luxuries. Rarely could Elise give the young girl a proper bath, but even so, she was determined to do whatever she could. Together with Bel’s other guardians, she strove to keep her, if not radiant, at least clean and presentable. She wasn’t about to let a descendant of the Great Sage of the Empire walk around without a suitably pleasing appearance. Not on her watch. So, she set about cleansing the young girl’s delicate skin with gentle strokes.

Suddenly she froze, washcloth and hand stopping over the all-too-prominent contour of a dainty shoulder blade. Below was a slender back with little fat or muscle. She bit her lip. Bel’s lean, bony form reminded her of her own younger self, and the texture of her skin lacked all the softness and shine one would expect to see from a princess.

You should be eating better...living better... I want you to, but... I’m so sorry, Mia...

A wave of helpless anguish threatened to consume her.

“I still can’t believe she punched away such a big fish though. Grandmother Mia must have been really good at swimming. Right, Mother Elise?” asked Bel in a cheery treble.

Elise faltered at the sudden question. Its abruptness stemmed her tide of grief, but a second wave of subtle regret soon followed. Like Mia, Bel was a very bright girl. She must have noticed Elise’s darkening mood and brought up the lighthearted topic on purpose.

Bless her soul. She’s trying to cheer me up...

Having realized that, Elise forced herself to reply in an equally cheerful tone.

“Yes, she was apparently very skilled. According to Anne, she was beautiful when she swam, like a crescent moon in the water.”

“Wow! That’s amazing!”

How exactly one went about swimming like a crescent moon...was not a question Bel concerned herself with. She didn’t try to imagine what it might actually look like. It sounded beautiful, and that was good enough for her. She clapped with glee, enjoying the spirit of the description rather than its words. Bel, you see, was a sweet girl, innocent and willing to take things at face value.

“That’s not all, you know? Your grandmother was the kind of person who could do anything. She was good at poetry and playwriting too, I heard. The first time we met, not only did she read through the novel I was writing in the blink of an eye, she even guessed the rest of the plot I had in mind.”

That moment during their first meeting still gave her chills every time she remembered it, the astonishment it evoked entirely unabated by the passage of time. It was almost magical how she’d recounted the exact story Elise had been meaning to write, then praised its quality.

“It made me so happy...”

Bel listened with eyes as wide as her gaping mouth.

“Wooow... Grandmother Mia was an amazing person, wasn’t she?”

“She sure was. What else was she good at? Let’s see... Oh, of course. She was great at riding horses.”

“Riding horses?”

“Yes. During her time at Saint-Noel Academy, she was part of the horsemanship club, and her skill was apparently top-notch. I’ve heard stories about how she even rode one of the legendary winged horses...”

If Bel’s eyes could’ve gotten any wider, they would have.

“A winged horse?! They really exist?!”

Faced with this extremely valid question, Elise smiled...

“Mmm hm hm... Who knows? Maybe it was just a joke someone told, or maybe it was metaphor. But knowing her, I wouldn’t be surprised even if it was true.”

...And gave a politician’s answer! Saying winged horses did exist would be an outright lie. Even Bel wouldn’t believe such a blatant falsehood. Probably. However, Elise’s answer had incorporated the technique of obfuscating nuance, arguing that while she didn’t know whether winged horses were real or not, if Mia did indeed ride one, she wouldn’t be surprised. In doing so, she avoided giving a firm answer. This way, she could claim to hold reasonable doubt and tout her calm rationality while simultaneously using that ostensible objectivity to laud Mia’s skill. In essence, she’d changed the question from “Do winged horses exist?” to “If they did, could Mia ride them?” which she could then answer with a resounding yes.

...Truly, a technique of utmost underhandedness. Poor Bel, who had no immunity against such unscrupulous methods, fell for it immediately.

“Grandmother Mia is so amazing!”

Oh, but she was such a sweet girl. Her innocent marvel pleased Elise, further inflating her enthusiasm.

“That’s right. And if she could ride winged horses, there probably wasn’t a horse in the world she couldn’t ride perfectly. Big ones, little ones, fast ones, strong ones... All of them. I bet she could even ride a unicorn.”

“No way! A unicorn?”

Through the diligent education she received from Mia’s most loyal subjects—Elise, Anne, and Ludwig—Bel grew up innocent and trusting, readily believing in the word of others. She was such a sweet girl. So sweet that it made you a little worried about her future.

“That’s so amazing. I wonder how she looked when she was riding. I wish I could have seen Grandmother Mia on a horse.”

Bel’s eyes continued to sparkle with wonder.

While her beloved Mother Anne finished making dinner and her beloved Mother Elise told her stories about the grandmother she admired, Bel savored these fleeting moments of time...one of her small pieces of happiness.