Chapter Text
The fourth floor of the Gilberta Company building wasn’t fancy, but it had something more important: safety. And walls. And doors that locked. Which was exactly what Rozemyne needed for her very important commoner family.
Effa looked at their old home one last time before the move. “We lived here for so long...” she murmured, clutching a small woven basket. “I’ll miss the neighbors.”
Gunther, standing heroically in the doorway with a box of wooden spoons, sniffed. “I’ll miss the good ol’ draft that kept us honest. And that one loose floorboard that tried to eat my foot.”
Tuuli bounced on her toes. “I won’t miss the stairs. Or the smell. Or having to commute all the way from here to the workshop! This move is the best!”
Rozemyne, in her full noble disguise with a tail-hidden cloak and mystery-hood, was already waiting for them upstairs. Her ears perked up at the sound of the door creaking open.
She was supposed to be mysterious and composed.
Instead, the moment her family walked in, she mewled, tail fluffing and flicking wildly as she sprinted across the room.
“Mom! Dad! Tuuli!”
They looked up, startled. Then came the tears. The hugs. The sniffling. The group squish.
Effa hugged her tight. “Myne, look at you... you’re taller.”
“Not by much,” Gunther sniffed. “But still the cutest daughter in the duchy.”
Tuuli beamed. “Hey, if we’re doing superlatives, I’m claiming ‘Most Fashionable.’”
Rozemyne wiggled her ears in joy. “You can both be the prettiest! I’m too fluffy to compete.”
Once the hugging ended (ten minutes and one tail tangle later), they all settled in.
Rozemyne’s cloak was off. Her tail was now free and swishing gently behind her, showing relaxed happiness. Her ears twitched whenever her family laughed or said something sweet. Gunther, Effa, and Tuuli, being full-blooded commoners, had no tails or ears—but they didn’t need them to show how happy they were.
Rozemyne gave a full debrief over steaming cups of soup.
“I’ve met nobles. I got blue robes. I have a room full of hand-me-down furniture that’s fancier than anything we ever owned. And I started a workshop.”
Tuuli blinked. “That’s a lot in one sentence.”
Gunther puffed out his chest. “You’re doing great, pumpkin. But are you eating enough? Is that High Priest feeding you well?”
Rozemyne’s ears drooped. “The food’s fancy, but it’s not... familiar.”
“Well then,” Effa said, smoothing Rozemyne’s hair. “We’ll fix that. We’re here now.”
The family made a pact. An adorable, teary, tail-waggle-laced pact.
“We’ll help the orphanage,” Effa declared.
Tuuli nodded. “I’ll teach the kids to sew and mend their clothes.”
“I’ll train them how to survive in the forest!” Gunther boomed. “Every child should know how to fight a shumil for mushrooms.”
Rozemyne beamed. Her ears stood up so high, they almost knocked over her tea cup.
With her family just a floor away, and her plans gaining support, Rozemyne finally felt like the temple was starting to feel... a little bit like home.
Well, not exactly the same. Her family didn’t have tails. But love didn’t need one.