The Schnee Palace, as some would name it, stood superior in the snowy capital of Atlas. In addition to the spacious manor, acres of the courtyard and the event halls, and the world famous theatre, took up more land than the mansion itself. My father did love to boast his wealth.

There wasn't much influx of guests other than rich 'friends' of my father's, although it didn't daunt me to stick around and greet my future colleagues. They would prove to be useful when the time comes. I knew the ins and outs of these social hierarchies.

My older sisters were away from the manor, leaving me with much more time on my hands than needed for an individual such as myself. It became lonesome. Klein, our kind butler, was great company, but even he would pace the expansive floors or the Study when the boredom got to him. It was very quiet here.

The evening sun was strolling leisurely across the pristine white walls of the third story lounge. The two crystal chandeliers hanging from the roof refracted the light into thousands of rainbows that danced across the room and out into the hall.

I was taking a break from my studies and the Schnee Dust Co. numbers my father handed down to me, to enjoy some leisure time. My black dress shoes were hanging off the arm of the antique Mistral armchair while I sunk into its cloud-like cushion.

I flipped the page of the book that rested on my lap, of which I was currently indulged in. I wasn't much of a fan of this particular genre. It was about an adventure of the darker times that shrouded Remnant. The huntsman in the story was a lone wolf who fought for what he believed in. Sometimes he did it for the people, but mostly it was for himself.

About a quarter into the book, the huntsman took an odd request that led him to disastrous trouble. He had misjudged the securities of a hostile bandit raid. The huntsmen was able to obtain his objective, however, the leader didn't let him get away so easily. That was how the huntsman had lost his eye. But he got the rusty weapon he was sent to find for the cost of it.

The rainbows started climbing the chair I lounged in. I sighed and closed the book, not bothering to put a bookmark in to save my progress. I wasn't planning on finishing the book; huntsmen were barbarians in their ways of handling the tasks at hand.

My clean and groomed nails reflected the light into my eyes, making me blink, when I set the novel on the mahogany coffee table. I pulled back into the chair. I observed them, holding them out and then pulling them close and angling them as to catch the rainbows in the air. I was mentally comparing my nice and untarnished pale hands to those calloused leather things of the savage killer's in the book. There was probably filth in-between every one of his nails from the barbaric things he did. Never cleaning them; the filth stacking, marking each foul deed he did like a cursed tally system.

And yet it was just an action filled story to entertain an audience. He probably didn't have a purpose either, the huntsman, I proposed to myself. Rambling about looking for entertainment, his sick form of an adrenaline fix.

I, Whitley, on the other pretty hand, have a very different mindset from this vigilante.

I was going to follow behind my father's footsteps. Become the businessman he was, the former businessman he had lost touch with. He wasn't doing a swell job at this moment in time, even though he handled it accordingly. It was all sunshine and rainbows to the public's eye. I could only see it getting worse. Growing until it threatened to bury the company from within. His hard work and dedication, his life's investment being ruined.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I slid my legs off the armchair and planted them on the ground, sitting up and straightening my back, which was relieving in contrast to the position I was in prior. A door clicked somewhere down the hall. Maybe a house servant checking the many rooms, I figured.

It wasn't just the external problems that were plaguing the Schnee Dust Company, per se. My father didn't trust many with his rather, 'personal' line of work. There was a knock coming from the open entryway.

A familiar housemaid peeked her head into the glittery lounge. "Whitley, sir, must you always draw the curtains so high?" She squinted and shielded her eyes with her painted nails, a small smile played on her lips.

The maid leaned off the archway and approached me so I stood up, she was taller than me. I folded my arms behind my back and stood up taller. Her smile was very readable now as she stood within arms reach.

Her misty indigo eyes watched him playfully.

She placed her hand on top of my combed

frost-nipped ivory hair, gently enough as to not untame it. "Did you grow since I've been away?" The maid questioned with surprise, as she measured her hand to her chin. Last time she did that my height was to her neck.

I couldn't stop myself from returning a smile, her sudden appearance was an excellent gift for the dreariness of the day. "Mhana, how good to see you," I said cheerfully. "How was the trip to Menagerie? Excuse my manners, here, have a seat," I gestured to the chair I was sitting in previously.

"Thanks Whitley," Mhana said, she lingered where she stood. "But I've only come by to say hello, as Mr. Schnee has requested for my company. Even though I've arrived just this afternoon." She swept her bushy peppered-snow braid behind her shoulder.

"If I can find the time to fit it into my schedule, I'd love to catch a tea with you sometime this week," Mhana said as she leaned in and planted a motherly kiss on Whitley's forehead.

"But you know your father," she pressed, "he tends to push me around more. Because I'm a Faunus." At least she was here again, looking out for me. Sometimes when your father works from sunup till sundown and your mother isolates herself, you lack a valued parent figure.

I sighed. I knew of my father's views on Faunus, and they weren't very highly, as when he views his 'rich' friends. I took a mental note to speak with him diplomatically about how his management was going at the manor, any stress distressing him. He usually kept in mind his son's concerns.

"That won't be a problem, I'll make sure to talk to him sometime when he's not so busy," I told Mhana, while I collecting my things from the lounge. Mhana drifted over to the curtains and was gingerly setting them down, the sunset racing with them.

"It was good seeing that you've kept yourself out of trouble since I've been away," she said while focused on tying the cords to the wall.

She was referring to my semblance. Mhana must have seen the title of the book I was reading.

I turned to see her walking back to me. "Of course I kept myself out of trouble," I replied, us walking through the archway separating the lounge and third story hall. "Although it's not easy training my semblance and studying for the exams coming this month."

"Oh I'm sure you'll do great," Mhana said with encouragement, like a mother believing in her son. "With both of those," she said nodding her head in sure agreement.

We approached the flight leading to the entry hall. "Talk to you soon, I've missed you," I said, one arm beside my back, the other holding the railing.

"You'll always be my favorite fourteen year old in the whole world, no matter what," she said with tears in her eyes, making them sparkle like sapphires. Mhana watched me again before she descended. I watched her down until she disappeared down a doorway.

I pouted like an upset child whose ice cream had fallen from the cone. Some prince of the Ice King, I was.