[October 22, 2042]
Cal had told Sirius what to expect in his messages on FoxChat, but the young man still felt a degree of surreality as he faced the large wooden doors. The 19th-century-style mansion was only a fifteen-minute walk from the city center, but perched upon its small island of sloped green grass facing the bay, it almost felt like he had entered a different world after passing through the iron gate at the bottom of the hill. Sirius tied his long black hair into a ponytail behind his head, his green eyes glimmering as they surveyed the calm ocean that hugged the coastline of Extremis City. His nostrils twitched. He could smell sea salt on the wind and freshly cut grass. Everything was shimmering slightly as the slowly melting sun receded down past the distant horizon.
This is nice, he thought to himself, Cal’s got a good gig, that’s no lie. A place that feels so close yet so isolated from everything else, like an enchanted mansion in those fantasy books I read as a kid.
Sirius took a deep breath, drinking in through his eyes once more the beautiful sight of the emerald lawn and the glittering sea, and then turned to face the doors again.
There was no buzzer at the iron gate or electronic doorbell under the portico, so shrugging to himself, Sirius knocked as loud as he deemed polite upon the door.
“Bridget!” shouted a shrill voice from the depths of the mansion, “there’s someone at the door!”
Another voice, much closer, called back with a slightly tired tone. “Yes, my lady, I’m aware. I’m answering it now.”
There was the heavy stepping of feet, and the door opened inward to reveal a tall and pretty young woman with brown hair that fell past her shoulder blades. She had a soft, maternal sort of face — that was Sirius’ first impression — but the impression was thrown off by the woman’s clothing. She was wearing a dark and expensive-looking uniform that reminded Sirius of a Napoleonic officer, which might have seemed silly, but there was something about the solid way the woman held herself and the clear strength of her body that made it suit her.
She beheld him with thoughtful brown eyes. “Hello there,” she said pleasantly. “Can I help you?”
“Um,” Sirius felt a little awkward suddenly. “Sorry, I don’t know if Cal mentioned-”
“Oh!” The woman clapped her gloved white hands together, a pleased expression coming over her face. “Of course, it completely slipped my mind. You’re Mr. Cal’s friend, yes? He did mention to all of us this morning he was having someone over for dinner and a film.”
The woman extended her hand. “I am Bridget Abigail Dornlathe. It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance.”
Sirius, a laid-back first-year university student who frequently skipped classes and lived in the school dormitory with his peers, wasn’t used to this outward manner of formality, but he extended his own arm and shook without flinching. “Sirius Allange. It’s likewise a pleasure.”
“Come in, Mr. Sirius.” Bridget gestured to him to step into the mansion. “Mr. Cal got held up at the supermarket. Apparently, there was a desperate sale on eggs that he absolutely needed to take advantage of.” Here she smiled to herself, just for a moment. “He's a very conscientious person, especially when it comes to money for food. I suppose when a person cooks so much they become very particular about these sorts of things.”
“Yeah,” said Sirius, “I have that impression myself.”
Sirius remembered the time that Cal had discovered he bought lunch every day from the food trucks on the campus and immediately launched into a lecture about how Sirius was being irresponsible with his money (“The market is a ten-minute walk from your dorm, where you can buy the same items for half the cost!”). It was the first time Sirius had seen his strange friend that passionate about anything. Until that point, he had assumed Cal was some kind of Buddhist monk in training, unmoved by the material world.
Awaiting inside the spacious entryway was the most beautiful girl that Sirius had ever seen in his life. He didn’t even have time to admire the interior of the mansion, its smooth wooden columns or tasteful design, because his eyes were drawn immediately to the pale face of the girl. She had perfect unblemished white skin, piercing eyes the color of a wide meadow, and hair so red it seemed to catch the air on fire — a color that nicely complimented the beautifully made white-and-blue dress that the girl was wearing.
At that moment, the girl seemed to Sirius like the perfect encapsulation of feminine virtue, and there was not a single thing that could assuage him of that notion.
And then she spoke.
“Ah, I see!” She sharply pointed a finger at Sirius, like a child gesturing at animals in the zoo behind the glass. “You are that peasant’s acquaintance, yes? How amusing! While I must rebuke you for your choice of confidante, I am a gracious host, and will entertain and beguile you, as a royal member of the the great nation-”
“My lady,” interjected Bridget with a slightly scolding tone. “Do you remember what we discussed earlier?”
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Aina paused, finger still hovering in the air, her face furrowed in concentration. Then she broke out into a wide smile. “Yes, of course! Who do you suppose I am? Commoner!” She jabbed her finger at Sirius. “What is your name?”
“Um,” Sirius suddenly wanted to immediately leave the house and this conversation. “I’m Sirius. I’m a classmate at Cal’s university. We’re in the program together studying renewable forms of-”
“Your name has been noted!” Aina interrupted, clearly not finished with the speech she had rehearsed in her head. “My name is Aina! No last name! Memorize it!”
“Okay,” said Sirius quietly, wishing she would lower her voice.
“Good!” Aina smugly put her hands on her hips. “I am an ordinary, simple commoner like yourself, rolling in the dirty substratum of this society. I desperately search for purpose as I am crushed under the edicts of kings and the greed of wealthy merchants. I claw and spit and struggle, yet I cannot raise myself above my inherent class, for the game is rigged and all ladders to advancement have been lifted. I have no notion of where my next meal will come from — whether it be tepid gruel or the writhing rats I have caught with my net!”
Aina (no last name) held a hand dramatically to her modest breast. “Alas, I am damned. If I were only like those shimmering, beautiful nobles, sitting at their wonderful banquets where music fills the air and wine flows like water!”
“Very good, my lady,” said Bridget wearily, “very good. You ought to become a playwright. Though if I may add a note, your next meal comes from Mr. Cal and — as he texted in the group chat — he is making quesadillas tonight. Do not also forget that you must finish practicing your… abilities before dinner is ready. ”
Aina seemed a little deflated. ‘I know that,” she said, her voice at a more reasonable register. She looked at Sirius. “Excuse me, I will see you a little later. I have matters to attend to upstairs.”
Aina frowned to herself and sulkingly made her way up the large stairway at the end of the room, her dignified dress dragging behind her, before vanishing.
There was an awkward tension in the air before Bridget turned to Sirius with a regretful expression on her face. “My apologies,” she said, dipping her head as if bowing slightly. “My lady can be a handful. In truth, Mr. Sirius, she has had a quite emotional week or so and has been very tied up in herself fighting contradictory impulses. She would never admit this openly, but I think today she saw an opportunity to have some fun and enjoy the role she was given for the evening.”
“It’s okay,” said Sirius, more out of appreciation for Bridget’s apologetic sincerity than because he actually understood what precisely she meant with her words. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but is she… like a roleplayer?”
There was a long, long moment where Bridget’s face was utterly expressionless, as if she were considering something of the utmost importance with every fiber of her being.
“Yes,” she said, finally. “That is exactly it. And she is very dedicated to her role as a princess from the Middle Ages in hiding from assassins, so please don't be put off too greatly by her antics. I promise you, she’s not a bad person.”
“Yeah, not a bad person, just stupid,” came a new voice, as a door slammed. Cal had entered, holding two heavy-looking grocery bags. “Hey, Sirius. Welcome.”
“Hey man, thanks for having me.”
“Mr. Cal,” said Bridget, a slight pout on her lips even as she took a grocery bag from Cal to decrease his load. “I wish you wouldn’t insert those jabs into your speech. It’s not very kind.”
“I know, I know.”
The two walked shoulder to shoulder down a hall, until Cal turned and beckoned Sirius. “Dinner will be ready in like a half-hour, I just need to prep some veggies and preheat the oven. Can I get you anything to drink?”
Sirius had never seen Cal cook — though he had always seen the result of it in the boxed lunches Cal brought to eat between classes. Cal moved with ease and precision, indicating his comfort and talent in the kitchen. His dark eyes were filled with the light of concentration. It made him look professional and austere, and he seemed to compliment the young woman standing beside him. Bridget had tied her head up as she worked, diligently pouring drinks, washing, and setting up places on the dining table for six people as Cal finished preparing food.
The two worked in tandem with one another, familiar with the posture and movement habits of the other. Bridget had her head slightly tilted towards Cal, who was bent over the stove, saying something quietly in his ear. Her brown tied-up hair fell between her neck and her shoulder blade as she did this.
A black elbow nudged Sirius. “They’re kind of cute together, huh?”
Sirius blinked and looked to the left to see Ellie smiling knowingly. She had come in earlier, sweating from a run in her crop top and shorts, and had plopped herself down in the chair across from Sirius, making herself comfortable. Sirius had seen Elli before on campus — always dashing to and fro, her black intricate braids bouncing behind her — but he had never spoken to her before. However, this hadn’t seemed to bother her at all. Upon seeing Sirius in the kitchen, an expression had come over her bright face that appeared to say “Oh right, that was today”, and she had launched into conversation with him with ease.
Now she had reached across the table to nudge his arm.
Sirius blinked again, and then glanced back over to where Cal and Bridget were standing. “Oh, I didn’t know. Are they-” He gestured at both of them with his hand in turn. “Are they… you know, together?”
Ellie, who had been leaning forward over the table conspiratorially, let out a stifled snort. “‘Together’? No-” She grinned. “No, not quite. Boss is a little bit too neurotic for that and Bridget is too polite. Though… who knows — maybe — it isn’t completely out of the question.”
“‘Boss?’”
Ellie’s eyes widened, as if just realizing what she said. “Ah, my head is ahead of my mouth. My mom told me once that’s a common problem with me. ‘Boss’ is my term of endearment for Cal.”
Sirius smiled at the implication. “‘Boss?’ Why ‘boss?’ That’s a pretty unusual nickname.”
“Gosh, dude, I’m trying to remember.” Ellie had begun to prop her head against her elbow, her eyes thoughtfully distant. “I sort of just started doing it without a reason. This is how I know you’re a visitor here; otherwise, you would be acclimated to the nonsense you hear and would no longer question any of it.”
She clicked her tongue. “I don’t know. It’s odd, I guess. I just started thinking of Cal in that sort of way at some point. Not as an authority, per se, but — but sort of as the nucleus that holds all of us here together.”
Her eyes, often so relaxed and chipper, found Sirius’ and they had an aspect of intrigue. “He’s an odd duck, our Cal. You’ve noticed, right? If you're his friend I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
Another smile. “I have.”
A moment of silence passed between the two.
Bridget called over to Ellie to fetch Ram and “my lady” — dinner was in five minutes.