"Give them back! You'll break these too!" cried the child, in a futile effort to grab his glasses back from what Damian assumed was his older brother.

"I didn't break those, you did," teased the bigger child, his arm extended to keep the glasses out of reach.

Damian sighed and prepared to intervene, when a voice, disguised to sound spooky but still familiar, spoke from the other side of a shelf full of frames for glasses.

"Ooh, we would return those if we were you!"

Even when camouflaged, Clelia's voice was still recognisable. In addition to that, the tip of her tall pointy hat peeked from the top of the shelf. Not that the children would be able to spot it from their height.

"This isn't your business, whoever said that," protested the older child.

"We are the sprites of vision correction and inhabit this shop," Clelia intoned. "We make the frames and the lenses, carve them with love and care. It makes us happy to help those who can't see, the smiles of our customers are our pride and joy."

Damian felt that pressure again, the same as those times when Clelia briefly showed her faerie nature, as she deepened her voice from behind the shelf, "But if someone ruins our work, we won't be happy. We shall curse the bad kids who don't treat our efforts with respect!"

Then, he saw the tip of her wand also peeking from the top of the shelf, and an eerie light erupted from it, bathing the shelf in blue and purple, while the pressure augmented. The children were petrified.

"No wait! I was just kidding, don't curse me!" bawled the bigger child.

The pressure died down and the light turned off. "That is all up to you. Return the glasses and, from now on, be more kind to those smaller than you."

Still staring at the shelf, the child gave back the glasses, then ran out of the shop. The younger brother put the glasses back on, thanked the shelf, then followed. Clelia's subsequent giggle betrayed both pride in her action and a touch of mischief.

Damian giggled too. "The sprites of vision correction? Where do you get ideas like that?"

She appeared from behind her cover, still laughing. "I just related to the younger kid. Let's just say that I've been on the receiving end of similar treatment."

Tell me about it, thought Damian.

She looked different without glasses: not only was she missing an element he was now used to seeing on her, her expression was also distorted by the need of squinting her eyes. As different as it was, a floating sensation making the rounds between his stomach and chest told him that she was just as cute like this as she was regularly. He raised her big round glasses, now repaired, and gently put them back in their place, straddling her nose. During that gesture, she closed her eyes and stood firm, trusting, and his fingers brushed against the softness of her cheek.

She opened her eyes, sighed in relief as her face muscles relaxed, not needing to squint anymore, and her sigh turned into an excited giggle. "It's so nice to be able to see with both eyes again."

"You should have told me sooner," he admonished, not too harshly.

"What's next on the today plan," she playfully wiggled her eyebrows, "dear husband?"

Damian looked away. Hearing her calling him that, even if her tone was blatantly not serious, had an effect on him. After the time they had spent together the day prior, she had been acting a lot more lighthearted and friendly towards him. That meant that she was starting to trust him more, which had always been among his objectives. He was unsure if that was a good or a bad thing.

It was as if, in his mind, he could see a younger version of himself writing cheesy poems and struggling to find sleep at night over the emotions swirling inside of him, and an older version, with a short well trimmed beard not unlike that of his older brother Vaufrej, dispassionately reminding him of what actually mattered.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to calm down his unruly feelings. "I still have to visit the book store, the main reason why I needed to come in town today, then we'll have some time to waste before we have to take the train back home."

***

On their way to the book store, Clelia observed the wonders of the city of Taurasia. Instead of one big citadel surrounded by smaller buildings and walls, in this city everything seemed huge. She took Damian by the arm, a little afraid of losing him in the sheer number of people walking around the stone paved streets. Compared to when they had walked together arm in arm, just a couple of days prior, she felt a lot more at ease now that she had had the opportunity to have a casual conversation with him.

A big trolley passed alongside them on the street, which is when she noticed the metal tracks embedded in the lane, somewhat similar to train tracks. Ah, the train, she thought. She had been hearing various times a day the sound of the train passing at the station in front of the village, but had never wondered what it was. She had always just assumed it had something to do with the factory.

But, only a couple of hours prior, her entire misconception had been obliterated. To think that humans would be able to build something so big and heavy, and yet capable of travelling so fast. Damian had explained to her the alchemical processes used to heat the water, and how steam would propel the mechanism, or whatever, but she was completely out of her depth in that field. She was sure that, given a couple of books and some time, she'd be able to wrap her head around it, but, as it was, it required her to understand too many new concepts all at once to fully grasp.

Still, all that she really needed to understand was how far the train could actually take her. One of the most crucial steps in her plan to run away was to find a way to travel a long distance without getting lost, and the train seemed like a potential candidate for that. She tried not getting her hopes up too much though. She was sure that, without extensive use of magic, which humans had only very limited access to, laying down the tracks for the train would be a titanic effort, as such she couldn't imagine those tracks going too far away. But, at the end of the day, every bit counted.

That had been a very productive day. Not only had she learned about trains, but she had made a lot of progress that night as well. As she allowed herself to be guided by her husband, she reminisced about her conversation with her next door neighbour, and what it meant for her plan going forward.

"A common enemy?" Asked Clelia to clarify, "You mean my mother?"

Madame Guillardine nodded with a mischievous smile. "Indeed. I can tell from the expressions you just showed when I asked about her that you two don't exactly have a rosy relationship."

Clelia looked away and grunted, "Oh, we have a rosy relationship alright. If you cut away the blooms and only keep the thorns, that is."

Madame gave a hearty laugh. "Well, isn't that just wonderful? As it happens, your mother is the one in your family with whom I have a bone to pick."

"Honestly, that's the least surprising thing I heard all night." Clelia deadpanned.

"Tell me, child," the witch asked as she became more serious again, "would it be alright if I asked a few questions? You're allowed to stay silent if you don't wish to provide an answer."

The young fairy didn't take long to decide on a course of action. "Before that, I'd like for you to declare your will not to hurt or impede me in any way while projecting your feelings with the 'tide'."

Madame nodded. "Clever. It is impossible to fake one's feelings while using the 'tide', which is why it is a fundamental skill to cultivate for all magic users who work with animals. I will do as you ask."

The witch closed her eyes, took a deep breath in, then out, and, as the air trembled with the pressure of her "tide", she declared, "I have no intention of hurting, impeding, or deceiving you."

Clelia was hit by a wave brimming with the resolve and sincerity in Madame's words. The fairy sighed, knowing that it was possible for her to relax her guard. As soon as she did that, all over Madame's body a silvery web became visible, and then quickly unravelled and dissolved.

"The curse on me is broken," explained the woman. "It was triggered when my 'tide' hit you hard enough to put you on your knees, and you broke it just now by trusting me." She joined her hands together and addressed an intense look to Clelia. "Now, if it was my intention to double cross you, I would."

The two remained silent for a few moments. Clelia was ready to summon her wand, use her blocking spell and, if possible, run away, but then Madame Guillardine laughed as hard and as sincerely as she did before.

"I'm not going to do that, of course. You're a good kid, you trusted me quickly. Way too quickly. Even with that 'tide' stratagem, I could have worded it in such a way that would allow me room to betray you while still coming off as sincere. I purposely spoke it in such a way that it wouldn't give me that room, but you should learn to be more careful in the future."

Clelia impatiently adjusted her glasses, as a wave of shame heated up her cheeks. "About those questions you wanted to ask me?"

"What are your intentions in the near future? Despite your meek appearances, I can tell that you have a flame within, a flame that, if cultivated, could power you towards any goal. That doesn't mesh well with the image of the dutiful daughter quietly going along with the arranged marriage planned by her mother, at least not without an ulterior motive. So, what is it that you're trying to achieve?"

The young fairy emitted a long sigh. "I want… to have as little to do with my mother as possible."

Madame Guillardine pierced her with her perceptive gaze. "So, in other words, you wish to escape from her."

Clelia hung her head, defeated. "Yes, that is my wish. As far away as possible."

That had been the very first time Clelia had admitted her plan out loud.

"Well," Madame smiled, "you did free me of an old burden. How about we join forces?"

"Here we are," announced Damian, interrupting her thoughts.

They stood in front of a big shop window, with all manners of books on display. Before she was able to ask a few of the questions that had come up in her mind, he pulled the door open and led her inside.

"Wait, there are a lot of books here. Aren't they going to check our identities or something?" Worried Clelia.

"What do you mean?" He stopped, confused. "Why would they need to check our identities to enter a book store?"

"Well, uh… they just allow public access to a place containing this much knowledge?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Of course. Do faerie limit access to information based on status?"

She hesitantly nodded.

"We don't do that. Anyone willing and able to read can get access to almost anything, if they know where to look. In a book store, they also need to have the money, of course, but there are public libraries to allow access to books even to those who can't afford to buy them."

She gasped in utter wonder. "That is awe inspiring! I had no idea that humans were so generous with their knowledge!"

"It's a… relatively recent development. And it was very hard fought too. My grandfather was always in favour of spreading knowledge and education even to the less fortunate, as I already mentioned, and he's had his fair share of pushback on that too."

"Still, nobody would even dare propose to someone like my mother to share her personal book collection with lower ranking faerie." She gave him a large smile. "Your grandfather must have been a truly great man."

He looked away and cleared his throat. "In any case, I'll go to the clerk and ask about my orders. You can look around and see if something catches your fancy: I'll be more than glad to buy it for you."

"Do you, um… do you think they have books on trains?"

He chuckled. "Your enthusiasm for trains reminds me of little boys, seeing a locomotive once and then declaring that they want to become station master or train driver when they grow up. I'm sure you'll find anything you wish to know on trains over there, where they keep all volumes on technology, or over there, where you'll find anything you need to know on travelling."

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Her eyes sparkled as she took a deep breath, excited about both possibilities. The former would maybe satiate her curiosity on how humans managed to make all of their wonders work with little to no magic, but the latter might just give her the information she needed for her plan. Of course, she chose the latter. After eagerly scanning through the volumes in the appropriate shelf, she found something she didn't even dare asking: a volume titled "The Royal Railways of the Kingdom of Tallia".

With hands almost trembling in anticipation, she took the heavy tome and opened it. At first she was a little confused, because she wasn't entirely sure how to read the map and found it entirely covered in a seemingly all-encompassing web of interconnected lines. Then had to stifle a loud gasp as she finally grasped that those lines were the railways. The trains reached just about everywhere in the country.

This discovery went beyond her wildest dreams. She had never even imagined that travelling far away from home could be that easy through human means. Now, the only thing she needed before being ready was to find a destination, somewhere safe to move to and finally build a new life for herself. That was…

That was strangely disappointing.

***

Damian's shoulders visibly relaxed as soon as Clelia detached from his arm to go and explore the shelf with books on travelling. When they had walked together arm in arm to go to his aunt's social event, a few days prior, he remembered being a lot more poised, composed, in control. Earlier, when she grabbed him without a word, he had felt like several of his internal organs got violently misplaced; furthermore, walking alongside her like that had given him a floaty feeling he had never experienced before. He caught himself in the act of staring at Clelia enthusiastically prancing toward her destination. He put an end to it by shaking his head and turning away, reviving his resolve to carry on with his errand.

As he approached the counter, he noticed that the clerk, an older woman shaped like a question mark wearing square glasses, was staring at Clelia.

He waved his hand to get her attention. "Greetings. There should be an order in my name."

The woman dragged her eyes between him and his wife a few times, then drawled, "Mr Neumann, I presume."

He raised a brow. "Was mine the only order?"

She sluggishly shook her head. "A girl dressed eccentric like that is either a little kooky or a fairy, and she walked in here arm in arm with a finely dressed young gentleman. I read the news, I know about the Neumann boy who recently married with a fairy."

In her first change of expression, she addressed him a complicit smile, glancing at him from above the frame of her glasses. "And, by the look of you, you seem to be quite pleased with your partner."

"I don't know what you mean. In any case, my order…"

A lethargic guffaw escaped from the woman's wrinkly lips. "My dear boy, it couldn't be more obvious that you're completely smitten if you walked around with a leaflet on your forehead spelling it out in bright colours."

"My order." He dryly replied.

She shrugged and plodded out of her chair.

Before she could get very far away, he remembered something. He extracted a small note from his pocket and placed it on the desk between them. "One more thing. Do you happen to have this available?"

The woman approached and looked at the scribble on the paper. "Not sure, I'll look for it." She gave him another complicit smile. "It's for her, isn't it?"

In response, he stared at her until she shrugged again and went back to trudging her way to the back of the shop.

While waiting for her to do her job, he closed his eyes and started reciting in his mind the alchemical steps for the Great Work. The classical process was nigredo first, then albedo, then citrinitas, and finally rubedo. The twelve keys of Ryplee, on the other hand, began with calcination, solution, separation, and conjunction, then went to…

"Damian?" Called a dusty voice.

He opened his eyes, finding himself face to face with the dull blackness of a tall dress, topped by a pale arid face with long dark hair and grey eyes.

"Mother."

***

Clelia stared at the page with the map of the railways, immobile, as if waiting for the appropriate excitement in light of her discovery to finally kick in. Eventually, the loud thump of her closing the book announced that she got tired of waiting.

After putting the volume away, she remained crouched for a few moments, trying to observe her emotional state through the principles of the "tide", hoping to understand that dull, empty lump of disappointment in her stomach.

Before she could do that, she noticed a tall figure speaking with Damian. Ah, it was his mother, she remembered her from the wedding and from the time they bought her glasses. She hadn't seen her since, now that she thought about it. She got up on her feet and moved to reach the two of them, so she could greet her properly. Behind his mother, was a younger woman, presumably a servant, judging from her clothing and the bag of stuff she was carrying for her master.

"…Of course I don't use the cini system for keeping up with 'Vita Taurasiana', do you take me for some sort of a beggar?" She heard the tall woman remark as she approached.

Keeping the rest of her body completely immobile, the head of Damian's mother turned just enough to meet Clelia's gaze. "So you were here with your wife. Good. I hope you can give her an education on civilised society." She then addressed Clelia directly, still with a dry tone. "Good day to you, dear daughter in law."

Clelia's mind raced in trying to remember what the human etiquette was, so ended up bowing like Aunt Lucia's butler had done when she met him at the market, almost losing her hat in the process.

A wrinkle besides the tall woman's nose twitched. "I commend her enthusiasm, if nothing else. In any case, I'm quite in a hurry, so one last thing. I want you two to be well dressed and well behaved for the opening of the opera season: all of Taurasia's high society will be there. Even maestro Azzurri himself will appear, according to 'Vita Taurasiana'."

Before leaving, she snorted, "No talks of Alchemy there, Damian, don't forget that. Enjoy the rest of your day trip."

She didn't even wait for either of them to answer before floating away, moving while keeping her composure in such a way that made her almost look like a doll on wheels. The servant quietly followed.

Damian let his head dangle backwards as a huge sigh escaped his lungs. "I'm sorry about that, I hope she didn't upset you."

She made a point of keeping a neutral expression. "Upset me? Why would that upset me?"

He shook his head. "Never mind."

The clerk laboriously came back to her desk carrying a small pile of volumes.

"I did find your little added request after all." The clerk announced.

Clelia peeked and, on the top of the pile, she spotted a copy of a familiar book.

"That's…"

Damian nodded. "Yes, it's Olliver's Travels. You didn't name it yesterday, but when you described your favourite book I knew you were talking about this one. I requested a copy just now."

The clerk added, "With coloured prints, excellent edition."

Damian paid, grabbed the paper bag with reinforced bottom the clerk gave him, thanked her, and the two of them left.

When they were out in the crowd again, she grabbed his arm once more.

He spoke with trembling voice, for whatever reason. "Because of the advent of the cini system, printing high quality editions with coloured pictures became a big selling point for many publishing houses. After all, as it currently exists, the cini system cannot reproduce colours, and, though it would technically be possible, modifying it to allow for colour would be so expensive on a per unit basis that it would be impossible to sell them at reasonable prices."

She instinctively squeezed his arm, but loosened up her grip when the muscles underneath his sleeves caused her to flush a little. "I have yet to give you the present I promised you."

"What present?" He queried.

She nervously fiddled with the bridge of her glasses. "The day we married. I promised I'd give you something in exchange for these glasses." She sighed, but softly smiled through it. "Looks like now you have two presents to look forward to."

Another trolley clanged past them, as silence fell on their conversation.

Despite the fact that she was now a lot closer to her goal than she had anticipated, she realised something: she still knew very little about human society and how to move through it. Perhaps it would be a good idea to bide her time, at least a little. Even in the brief encounter with Damian's mother she felt like she had made some mistake, which she should probably learn how to avoid before going away on her own.

Damian's mother… the encounter with her reminded Clelia of something. The conversation she had had with Damian the morning after their wedding, the one that left her underwhelmed. Just like him on that day, that woman had been dry and to the point, no pleasantries, no feelings, then immediately took off. The young fairy had noticed how Damian's eyes, that had been lively all morning, dulled out during his conversation with his mother, and didn't even recover right away when it was over. It felt all too familiar. Even after leaving the castle, the apparition of her own mother's disapproving glare kept popping up.

Her husband's voice broke the pause in their conversation. "We humans have plenty of stories about your kind, you know?"

She nodded. "Same."

"But I've been feeling like those stories have done nothing to prepare me for… all this."

She kept on nodding, her eyes slowly slipping toward the ground.

"I used to think that you'd be completely different from us. And, don't get me wrong, I've seen plenty of ways in which you are. But, at the same time, I've been seeing a lot of things that we share."

He then started saying something, which turned into unintelligible grumbling.

"What's that?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

Her head leaned on one side. "I get what you're saying. And I'm not just feeling it as in you humans compared to us fairies, I mean as in you and me, as individuals."

Both of them jolted when her head brushed against his shoulder. She covered her blushing face by pretending to adjust her glasses once more.

"Yeah, I agree," he continued. "Even when we were at the optometrist's shop, when you played that trick on the little bully."

Oh yeah, she thought with a smirk, that had been a good use of the light spell she had managed put together before leaving.

He continued, "You said that you used to be on the receiving end of such behaviour and I, well… I understand that better than you'd think."

"Well I felt that way when your own mother spoke to you as if you were some kind of… of…" Her brows furrowed more and more, until she erupted, "of misbehaving pet who stopped amusing and started trying her patience."

When their eyes met, his glistened with surprise, and hers shone with anger. As usual, her burst of rage subsided almost as quickly as it had appeared, and she avoided his gaze, embarrassed by her own little outburst.

After a brief pause, she heard his voice again. "Say, Clelia, would you like to… sit down at a café or something? Have something to drink, chat some more?"

The pictures in the book were beautiful. Even when they differed from the way she had imagined the travels of the protagonist, they managed to create a mood that she couldn't quite describe. Human artists really were something.

Damian managed to catch her attention, for the waiter had arrived and, apparently, had already asked for their order.

Clelia closed down the book and said, "I'd like to try this coffee thing, I've never heard of it back home."

"She's a fairy," Damian briefly explained to the confused looking waiter, "it hasn't even been a week since she started living among humans."

He then addressed her. "I must warn you that it's quite bitter. The cubes of sugar in that little bowl can be used to sweeten it to a degree, but it's still going to be a very strong flavour."

"Alright, got you. I still want to try it."

Damian nodded. "Two cups of espresso then."

Clelia blinked a few times, confused. "I said coffee."

He chuckled. "Espresso is one way to make coffee. Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

Her head sank into her shoulders. "Sorry."

After the waiter left, neither of them managed to speak, and she felt too awkward to open the book up again.

He massaged the back of his neck. "You know," he laughed nervously, "we humans usually meet in places like this during courtship, before getting married. You and I are doing things in a weird order."

"You mean, human boys and girls are allowed to meet and interact in public before marriage?"

"Eh, actually that's somewhat of a recent development too," he admitted, "and, if you want to do it properly, you should have a chaperone with you. But, since we are married, I suppose we're not doing anything strange, even if it's just you and me."

Clelia became aware of the fact that her heart was beating faster for some reason. Even if it was unintended, the sudden shift in the atmosphere of their encounter did not go unnoticed with her. What should she do? She took a good look at him. He really was handsome, with his dark brown hair, sincere smile, not to mention those grey eyes one could get lost into… she realised he was in his shirt sleeves now, leaving his elegant wrists and collarbones in the open. The temperature inside the café had admittedly been on the warm side, but, until that very moment, she had not stopped to take notice. Her eyes wandered around, trying to assess what the other women and girls were wearing, and she saw that they all wore much smaller, much lighter hats, which would probably help with the heat. She wondered how much of a faux-pas it would be to take her hat off entirely, but decided that she couldn't stand it and did it anyway, freeing her wild hair.

"So," he started again, "how do you feel about your first few days of marriage?"

Beneath the cover of the table, she grabbed and squeezed the fabric of her skirt. Now that she was paying attention, even his voice sounded attractive. It was full and smooth, with a deceptive warmth to it.

"Oh, it's been quite… very… certainly interesting, yes."

"And how do you feel about me?"

She was positive that most of her bodily functions had stopped working for a few instants. Was he putting the moves on her? Well, maybe that was the wrong way to think about it, since he was, after all, her husband. But, despite having been very aware of the fact that he was her husband all along, despite the girl talk with Rosalba, even despite her own feelings on the matter, it was the first time that the possibility really dawned on her. Did he actually feel something for her?

"Oh, um, how do you feel about me?" She reflexively asked.

For some reason, he nodded. "Yeah, maybe it was a bit… bold of me to ask something like that point blank. Allow me to elaborate. Remember when, before, I expressed how surprised I was in finding similarities between us? When preparing for the wedding, I always thought about it as a business matter, and my prospective wife was, in my mind, only a variable in the equation. Meeting you, getting to know you, discovering that, after all, we do have some fundamental things in common… all of that changed my way of thinking about you. I'd like to know if you went through something similar."

Her shoulders relaxed. "Ah, so that's what you meant. Well, I'd say that I did go through a few different ways of thinking about you. Before meeting you, you were nothing but a name, I didn't even think about you as part of some… equation or anything like that. After meeting you, I started thinking about you as… I don't know how else to put it, a stranger. A kind stranger," and very attractive, she carefully didn't add, "but a stranger nonetheless. The way you started only talking to me for practical stuff and avoiding me at all other times after the wedding did not help."

She saw him squirm uncomfortably at those words, and then continued, "But, after spending some time with you today and yesterday, and talking to you right now… I think I understood something about you."

His face tensed up. "Which is?"

Her smile turned sly. "Which is that you have no idea what you're doing. You're just taking it one step at a time, figuring it all out as you go."

"Ah!" Was all that he could say in response. Bullseye, she thought.

Her expression sweetened. "Hey, cheer up, dear husband: we're in the same boat in that regard."

Damian nodded, then met her gaze with his beautiful eyes. "I suppose you're right on the money. So, at the end of the day, what do you think about me?"

She raised a brow, smirking again. "I think that I could have been dealt a much worse hand than you. Maybe, going forward, we could start trying to figure it all out together, rather than scrambling about like gnomes who lost their hats?"

He snickered. "We are husband and wife after all, right?"

She nodded, with another sweet smile. "Right."

The coffee arrived. Curious, she tried it before putting any sugar in it. It was, indeed, extremely bitter.