It's Beautiful : Limbo

That day, Dake took her to Bangsa Federa's house, where she was still her father's mistress. Arin didn't know Bangsa had a son the same age as her. Arin wandered around Bangsa's house while her parents were busy. Arin was six years old. Arin wandered through the unfamiliar house, her small fingers trailing along the polished wooden banisters of the staircase. The house smelled different from her home—rich with floral notes from fresh-cut roses in vases and something slightly musky that she couldn't quite place. She tiptoed into a large sitting room with plush furniture and portraits hanging on the walls.

A boy about her age sat cross-legged on the floor, building a complex model of a sailing ship from wooden blocks. His fingers worked deftly, placing tiny masts and rigging with surprising precision for someone so young. He didn't look up as she entered, but his movements slowed, his head tilting slightly as if sensing her presence.

The boy's fingers paused mid-motion, his head tilting further as he finally glanced up. His dark eyes met hers, revealing something between curiosity and wariness. The toy ship was nearly complete, its tiny sails fluttering as he shifted slightly.

"Who are you?" he asked, speaking with the quiet clarity of a child who doesn't waste words.

Arin walked forward, her bare feet silent on the plush carpet. She crouched down, her hands resting on her knees as she studied the miniature world he was creating. The ship was beautiful—far more intricate than anything she'd attempted before.

"My name is Arin," she said, reaching out to touch the edge of the deck. "What's yours?" His fingers curled instinctively over the deck of the ship as she touched it, as if to protect it. But he didn't pull away, only watched her with that same cautious intensity. "Ady," he finally said after a moment's hesitation. "Ady Bangsa Fenera."

Arin tilted her head, considering the name. "That's a nice name," she said, moving her attention back to the ship. Her small hand extended again, this time hovering near the mast. "Can I help you build it?"

Ady's face shifted, uncertainty flickering across his features. His fingers remained protective around the model, but he didn't outright refuse. "You won't break it?" "Okay," she said, settling cross-legged beside him with a soft rustle of fabric. Her small hands reached for a block, her movements careful and measured. She found a perfect piece to complete the stern section, sliding it into place with surprising accuracy.

Ady watched her hands, his breathing easing as he saw she was gentle with the pieces. He picked up another block, this one for the bowsprit, and held it out toward her. "You can put this here," he said, pointing to a specific spot on the ship's structure. His voice was softer now, less guarded. Arin took the piece carefully between her fingers, feeling its weight and the smooth grain of the wood. She positioned it exactly where he had indicated, then ran a finger along the curve of the bow as if admiring her own handiwork.

"That's perfect," Ady said, nodding with quiet approval. His fingers joined hers at the bow, checking the placement almost reflexively before withdrawing again. Their heads were close now, both hunched over the miniature vessel.

"Did you build all of this by yourself?" Arin asked, looking at the full ship. She couldn't imagine having the patience or skill to create something so detailed.

Ady nodded. "Most of it. Sometimes Father helps with the bigger pieces." Arin watched as Ady placed the final sail on the tiny ship, his fingers moving with such delicate care it almost looked like he was handling a real vessel. The finished model stood proudly before them, its masts catching the light from the tall windows behind them.

"Do you come here often?" Ady asked, his dark eyes lifting to meet hers. His question was innocent, but there was an unspoken understanding in it—that this wasn't her home, and yet here she was, playing with him in his father's sitting room.

Arin shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing with the motion. "No, this is my first time. My father brought me here today." Ady nodded as if this made perfect sense, but something flickered across his face—a brief shadow that was quickly gone. He looked back down at the ship. "Then you should help me name it," he said, changing the subject smoothly. "Because you helped build it."

Arin's face brightened with the suggestion. "Really? I get to name it?" She leaned forward, her small hands framing the model ship. "We could call it the... the Stormchaser!"

Ady's lips twitched upward in what might have been the start of a smile. "Stormchaser," he repeated, testing the word. "I like that." The two children sat in silence for a moment, studying their creation. Arin's fingers moved unconsciously, tracing the lines of the deck and the edge of the sails. Ady's hand crept out to make tiny adjustments—a slight tilt of the mast here, a careful alignment of the rigging there.

"Do you go to school?" Ady asked, his eyes never leaving the ship.

Arin nodded. "I'm in first grade at Saint Catherine's." She paused, studying him. "Are you in school too?"

Ady shook his head. "I have tutors. Father says school is unnecessary for what I need to learn." Arin frowned slightly. "That sounds boring." Ady shrugged. "It's not bad. I can learn whatever I want." He picked up a smaller block and held it out to her. "Do you want to make a second ship? We could have a race." The idea clearly delighted him. Arin eagerly accepted the block, already planning how she would construct her vessel.

As they worked together on the new model, their conversation flowed more easily. Arin told him about her teacher, Mrs. Chen, and how she'd won the spelling bee last week. Ady described the books his tutors made him read—tales of pirates and explorers that seemed much more exciting than her own schoolbooks. Hours passed unnoticed as the two children created their tiny fleet. When the light in the room began to dim, Arin realized with a start how long they'd been playing. Her stomach growled audibly, and Ady's face changed with recognition.

"Oh," he said. "You must be hungry." He stood, brushing dust from his knees. "I'll get you something to eat." He crossed the room to a small bell on a side table and gave it a ring. The sound was sharp in the quiet house.

A moment later, footsteps approached, and a young servant entered. She looked curiously at Arin but addressed Ady with perfect composure. "Yes, Master Ady?" "Bring some tea and sandwiches for our guest, please," he said, his small voice carrying an authority that didn't seem to match his age. The servant nodded and disappeared.

"Our guest?" Arin repeated, standing up and brushing her own knees free of wood shavings. "Does that mean I'm staying for dinner?"

Ady's gaze met hers, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. "Father didn't tell you?" He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "You're staying the night. Your parents... they wanted to spend time together."

A strange feeling curled in Arin's stomach—not quite fear, not quite excitement. The word "parents" felt different in Ady's mouth, as if he meant something more than what she thought he meant. Before she could ask what he meant, the servant returned with a tray of tea and sandwiches—tiny, delicate finger sandwiches with the crusts cut off, so different from the thick ham-and-cheese her father usually made for her.

Ady pulled two small chairs up to a low table, and they ate together, their conversation turning quieter as the twilight deepened outside the windows. Arin couldn't remember ever being so content simply sitting with someone, the silence between them comfortable rather than awkward. As they finished their tea, Ady stood up and held out his hand. "You want to see the gardens?" he asked. "It's still light enough to walk through them, and the flowers are in bloom right now."

Arin took his hand without hesitation. His fingers were warm and sturdy, and they fitted surprisingly well around hers. Together they moved through the house, through doors Arin had never noticed, down a hallway lined with portraits of stern-looking men and women whose names she didn't know. The outside air smelled different here than at home—cleaner, fresher, laced with the scent of flowers that seemed richer somehow. The garden was vast, with winding paths leading through carefully tended beds of roses, lilies, and other blooms Arin didn't recognize. She gasped at the sheer beauty of it all, turning her face from side to side to take it all in. "This is amazing," she breathed. "I've never seen so many flowers in one place."

Ady's chest puffed up slightly with pride at her reaction. "My mother made sure the gardens were perfect," he said, leading her down a path lined with rose bushes in full bloom. "She loved flowers." Something in his tone made Arin pause.

"Your mother?" she asked, turning to look at him. "Is she... is she gone?" Ady nodded, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. "She died when I was small." Arin was confused. Her father had just invited her here without telling her anything, and according to Ady, her mother was also here. "Is my father giving me a surprise?" Ady's expression grew serious. "Your father and my father are... they're friends," he said carefully. "They spend a lot of time together here." His eyes met hers, and there was something in them that made Arin realize he knew more than he was saying.

"But my mother—" Arin started, and then stopped. Ady squeezed her hand gently, cutting off the question before she could ask it. "Let's go to the maze," he said, changing the subject smoothly. "It's the best part of the garden." He pulled her down a path that led to a tall hedge with a narrow opening just wide enough for one person to pass through. The hedge maze loomed before them, its walls seeming to stretch endlessly in all directions. Arin felt a thrill of excitement and something else—vulnerability. She'd never played in a maze before, and the thought of getting lost in these unfamiliar grounds made her heart beat faster.

"Have you been through this before?" she asked Ady, her voice hushed.

He nodded, a small, confident smile forming on his face. "Many times. I know all the shortcuts." Releasing her hand, he gestured for her to follow him. "It's a little complicated at first, but I'll show you." Arin felt a rush of excitement as they stepped into the maze. The towering hedges blocked the view of the house, enclosing them in a world of greenery and winding paths. Ady led confidently, taking turns without hesitation. He would occasionally glance back at Arin, making sure she was keeping up.