Epsilon Twilight
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67. The Weight of the Truth
🕑 Added 2025-10-14 12:22:01 +0000 UTCChristie was stupefied. Before her was a gorgeous woman. Radiant and long brass hair. Dual-eyed sapphires. Bountiful… er… bosom. The title of mock sapphire never felt more veritable to her beloved, for she had found an actual polished sapphire. And as striking as the sight was, Christie’s first thought was: Will Agatha become that gorgeous when she ages? The nouveau riche hadn’t had much wine in her life, only at some special occasions, but now she understood the expression of aging like fine wine. Or rather, she became a devout believer of it.
“Mom, how is it that you are… here?” Agatha was the first one to speak, for Christie was still processing the… scenery.
“I could ask the same of you, daughter,” the adult Agatha said. “I am here because Hasel here,” she pointed at her dearest father with an open palm, “needed a seamstress to fix her daughter’s clothing and to put an order to the local tailors.”
“Well, I am here because I am Christie’s best friend!” The petite girl puffed her chest out, which ended up being more adorable than intimidating.
“Well,” her dearest father clapped and Christie felt a strong déjà vu. “That was certainly unexpected. Esmeralda, how is it that your daughter has made it into the Skyscraper Academy?”
“Why do you say my Agatha is in the Skyscraper Academy, Hasel?” Agatha’s mother, apparently called Esmeralda, inquisitively looked at Christie’s dearest father. She… do they know each other?
“Well, I doubt that there is anyone at another academy who has a Third Stratum agate in their first year,” he pointed at Agatha’s pendant.
“I guess that is the Great Prospector for you,” Esmeralda sighed and then jumped upright in alert, only now having processed his words. “What did you just say?”
“Third Stratum,” the vulpine patriarch answered smugly.
“Agatha?” The mature sapphire raised her voice and rushed toward her daughter. “Can we talk, sweetie?”
“I, uhm…” Her seductress panicked. “I need to carry Christie’s luggage,” she said with a hint of panic.
“Listen here,” as Esmeralda started speaking, the dearest father raised a palm, which instantly silenced the woman.
“I understand that we are all surprised here, but the girls need to rest, Esmeralda.” He then turned to face her ladylove. “Agatha, was it?”
The petite girl shrank a bit at being spoken to. Even though her dearest father hadn’t directed himself to her, Christie had also jumped a bit. A part of her was scared, wondering if he had discovered their secret relationship already. Her dearest father loved her enough to give her the world, but did she love her enough to accept her daughter as she was? Could he truly support the weight of the truth?
“Yes, uh…, sir?” The blonde – the girl, not the mother – said with a hearty dose of doubt.
“Hasel’s fine,” the patriarch chuckled. “Please, follow Miss Diorite here with the luggage; she will let you know where to leave it.” Then she turned to Esmeralda. “As for you, take my dearest daughter and get started with your work. I am afraid we do not have many days before our girls have to go back to the academy, so every second counts. Is it fine for you, Christina?” He finally turned to face her daughter.
“I… yes,” she nodded comelily. It was true that she was exhausted from the journey, but she could also hold out a bit more.
Her inamorata was guided away by Miss Diorite, her dearest father remained talking with Adrien at the entrance of the estate, and she followed Esmeralda into a different wing of the manor.
It was an odd feeling for Christie to come to the place she had been born and resided all her life after nearly a full year. Everything was exactly as she remembered, yet it now felt alien. There was a slight dissonance she couldn’t shrug off. Lately, especially these last days, the Skyscraper Academy had felt more of a home than the manor. And she knew the reason. I need to confront him, she had always obeyed her dearest father’s words down to the letter, but now she realized how… oppressive they could be. For better or worse, she needed to state her ground.
But she had time. At the very least, they would stay in the state for a whole month. She could, well, postpone the inevitable a bit.
Esmeralda walked with confidence around the mansion, her confidence showing that her stay wasn’t recent, if the uniform wasn’t enough of a clue.
“So,” Christie started, but her lover’s mother turned her head instantly to look at her, which made her hesitate. “…do you work here now, Miss Esmeralda?”
“Esmeralda alone is fine,” the woman smiled at her, and it left the redhead breathless.
If Agatha’s smile was a fulgurating radiance, then Esmeralda’s was a cool and refreshing sea breeze. Both were beautiful, but not comparable as they were wholly different. In a way, it was too soft for Christie. She loved Agatha’s smile because it set her ablaze, whilst Esmeralda’s was a caress that relaxed her. Clearly, the smile of a mother, she thought, even if she couldn’t say she had seen one before.
“No, I cannot say I work here. I was just brought here by Hasel for some quick fixes before the tailors rushed here trying to sell him more dresses,” the seamstress smiled.
Clearly her mother, Christie thought again, only that now with a slight flush on her cheeks.
“And how come the uniform?” The nouveau riche inquired.
“Just Diorite shenanigans. That woman has been dying to see me in a maid outfit for a long time,” the villager flaunted a bit the long skirt of the uniform.
It is certainly a sight for sore eyes. Christie inspected the motherly yet youthful figure of Esmeralda, and her thoughts kept tugging her around. After initiating a relationship with the seamstress’s daughter, she… became more conscious of what she looked at. But even then, as the servant’s uniform perfectly captured Esmeralda’s hourglass silhouette, Christie couldn’t help but think of another person. I wonder if I could get Agatha into one…
“Do you…” Christie stopped for a moment to breathe as she felt a bit heated, “…know Miss Diorite and my dearest father?”
“Of course,” Esmeralda stated plainly and opened a door. Wordlessly, she commanded Christie to enter and the girl reciprocated. “It is not my first time here either.”
“Wait…” Those words had an effect on the redhead, and she became petrified in the doorway as her mind went through years of memories in seconds. “Are you the one who made the mock turtle?”
“Mock turtle?” The brass blonde tilted her head in confusion.
“Uhm…” Christie reddened as she realized that was a monicker she had shared with the daughter and not with the mother. “The… felt stuffed toy of François…”
“Oh, that one! Yes, it was me,” Esmeralda giggled. “Hasel was really angry when he found out it was a felt teddy instead of a perfect recreation, but you loved it so much that he did not have the heart to take it away from you. Do you still have it?”
“Of course!” The redhead responded without a hint of hesitation, her tone almost offended. “I have even brought it to the Skyscraper Academy.”
“How endearing,” the seamstress covered her mouth with a hand, but Christie could clearly see a grin forming.
The brass blonde walked into the room, inviting the redhead to move away from the doorway. The room was one Christie hadn’t spent much time in as it was a place wholly dedicated to sewing and tailoring resources and functionalities. The occasional peddling tailor that arrived at the state would remain here for their stay and confect dresses for Christie, and perhaps, and very rarely, a suit for her dearest father.
“Hmm,” Esmeralda inspected her from head to toe as she hummed. “That dress is a bit voluminous for me to take your sizes directly. Do you mind undressing?”
“No, not at all,” Christie said and started removing her dress here and there.
As voluminous as it could be, it was meant for travel rather than a ballroom, so she could remove it herself without help. And she couldn’t deny it was a… refreshing experience. If it were Agatha, the girl would have been blushing and protesting by now, but the mother was different. There was not a hint of shame in the woman’s gaze as Christie slowly undressed herself, her gaze completely professional. After being used to Agatha’s shame, however, that lack of emotion that should have been classified as common etiquette now felt… shameful. Christie had been hiding herself for so long to respect Agatha’s wishes that now her body had been infected with her habits.
Esmeralda cared not for Christie’s internal struggle, nor did she seem to realize it. Who could blame the woman? She had literally asked the girl if she was comfortable with this before starting. The seamstress took out a measuring tape and she closed in on the nouveau riche once she had finished undressing. She hadn’t completely undressed; she was still in her underwear, but that didn’t make it less easy on her heart.
The brass blonde slightly raised the tape, non-verbally asking if she could go on, and the redhead nodded affirmatively. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the developing events; it was just a seamstress taking the sizes of a girl – both of the same gender too – and yet as Christie had her bosoms enveloped by that measuring tape, cold finger pressing against her brassier, a small yelp escaped her lips.
“Are you okay?” Esmeralda hastily removed the measuring tape. “Have I hurt you?”
“No, n-not at all. Your fingers were just colder than I expected.” Christie responded, looking down at the woman.
She wished she didn’t have.
Christie was tall for a woman, and that became especially clear this last year as she continued growing, gaining a handful of fingers in height. But even then, she was way taller than the matronly seamstress, and she had to turn her head down, exactly like how she did with the seductress seamstress.
Ah, the redhead moaned internally as she realized that. The duo of mother and daughter were very similar, but as Esmeralda took her sizes, her body got very confused. Her mind knew it wasn’t the case, but her body was only feeling as Agatha was touching all over her body.
She became petrified, or rather, she self-petrified as the slight and professional touches of the seamstress were enough to drain her sanity, and Christie feared what she might do if she didn’t take rein over her body like when she did with her sea of stones. She was awfully aware that the gorgeous woman before her wasn’t Agatha, and that made it even worse when she felt the heat coming out of her cheeks.
Ah, what an indecorous person I am. Christie panted the moment she was released from the seamstress’s soft caress; she hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath until now.
“Hmm,” the seamstress harrumphed as she took notes on a paper. “You are certainly more endowed than you look. Here,” she showed the scribblings to Christie.
“That is a… one?” The redhead squinted in confusion at the single stick drawn in the paper that the seamstress was pointing at.
“Yes, a one. One meter.” Those words didn’t mean anything to Christie and Esmeralda noticed it. “One meter in over bust is not something you tend to see in girls of your age, but more of adult, fully matured women. I guess your height has some effects on proportions as you have a slightly bigger waist and hip than expected, but not as much as the bust. And you have said you are still growing?”
“Y-yes?” She didn’t know what to answer.
“Oh, I am so sorry.”
“Why?”
Esmeralda laughed. “That bust is only going to get bigger if you are unlucky, and swell even more during pregnancy, so you are going to have to carry lumps of fat so heavy that they are going to crack your back.”
“I… hope not?” Girls in the changing room would always talk about sizes and shapes after physical education classes, but Christie had never paid much attention. “And who says I am going to get pregnant?” She crossed her arms.
“No need to get defensive, I get it. I was young once, and you just do not think of those things at that age. But look at me,” the small – yet not petite – seamstress pointed at herself, “I am here with a daughter even though I was a rebel and said a man would never catch me.”
“I…” Keep your mouth shut, Christie, a part of herself whispered. Though shouted was more correct. “I would rather not think about it at the moment.”
“As I have said, I was young once,” Esmeralda raised her palms. “The time will come, there is no need to think about it just now. You can start dressing now, girl,” Christie didn’t need to be told so twice. “Though it is amusing to think that your chest will be almost as massive as my daughter is tall. Poor soul, I doubt she will grow much more. She hasn’t grown a millimeter since I sent her away almost a year ago. I hope that does not affect her physical performance much.”
“I would not say so,” the redhead said as she donned her dress again. “Agatha is the most athletic student by far, matching a lot of the male students in many fields too. She has been doing acrobatics in fights when people struggle just to shoot their agates.”
“Ah, that definitely sounds like my girl. Always in movement. She loved to climb trees when she was younger, maybe that is where she got those acrobatics you are talking of from,” those sapphire eyes shone in reminiscence. “Alas, I think the actual problems will be with her mental state.”
“Her… mental state?”
“There are girls and girls out there, some care about their bodies and others do not. But I know my daughter, and I know she is from the former like I know you are the latter.”
“She does not…” Christie’s words died in her mouth as she recalled the events from the river nearly two weeks ago. No, she does care. And too much for her own good.
Esmeralda seemed to realize that as she giggled. “Try not to boast that chest of yours to my daughter, otherwise I feel like she would explode with jealousy.”
“I… doubt Agatha would do that.”
The seamstress smiled at her. “You truly are her friend.”
“I… am,” Christie couldn’t help but hesitate. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either.
“Only a good friend hesitates,” the woman giggled again. “Hasel is not going to appreciate that I tell you this, but please, help her if you can. My daughter can be a handful.”
“Not at all!” The nouveau riche burst out. Fortunately, she was now fully clothed. “I… What I meant to say is that Agatha is the one who has had to support the handful, not me. I am truly helpful to her. If it was not for her… this year would have been very different.”
“You do not know how happy it makes me to hear that.” That oceanic smile came back. “Agatha… she was not good at making friends. Not quite a loner, but… she had a difficult time, nonetheless. Knowing that she has a friend as good as you fills my heart with joy. Thank you, Christina.”
“I…” Christie didn’t know how to react. Never before had she had been thanked with such… veracity. “Christie is fine,” so she answered with a wholly different statement.
“Ah, Hasel is definitely not going to like that.” Yet as Esmeralda uttered those words, she was grinning from side to side.
“It does not matter what my dearest father likes or not; it is I who dictates how I am addressed by whom,” the redhead stood with her head high, a small act of defiance to acclimate herself first before standing her ground against her dearest father.
“Well, I have enjoyed our conversations, but I should get going.”
“Do you have something to do?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Esmeralda sighed. “I have to relay these notes to the tailors that will have to come here in these coming weeks, and Hasel was right in the fact that there is not much time, so it is better if I make haste.”
“Uhm… what about your daughter?" It felt wrong to Christie knowing that she would spend a whole month with her dearest father when her paramour had only seen her mother for a minute.
“Oh, do not worry about her. Malachite is close by. She will visit on her own, and if she does not… maybe she will know the true definition of fear.” The way the woman grinned was horrifying, but at the same time, there was no better epithet other than motherly. “See you, Christie.”
***
“Esmeralda has departed already,” Miss Diorite informed him once they were alone in his office. The girls were resting before supper, and the maid had only come here momentarily as she had already started preparing the food.
“She could have remained for supper. I think I see her in a new light now that she is the mother of my daughter’s first and best friend.”
“Always about your daughter, eh?”
“Always about my dearest daughter, Diorite,” Hasel chuckled as he set aside some papers. He was completely unfazed by the fact that they wielded the royal crest and the mark of the Shining Knight. “Has she gone with Adrien?”
“No, she has chosen to go on her own. She preferred to let the man rest.”
“Did she leave in the maid outfit?”
“That she did,” the head maid sighed.
“As expected of her, stealing at the first chance.”
“I know I was the one who wanted to see her dressed in the outfit, but now it angers me knowing that it will become a pile of fabric before sunset with all her tinkering.”
“You are never going to let go of that grudge, huh?”
“She laughed at me when she saw me wearing the outfit, Hasel!”
“That was years ago, Diorite,” the man himself laughed. “And can you blame her? Who would have thought the abominable Diorite, terror of Secto, would be wearing a maid outfit?”
“Can you remind me why I even did this in the first place?” The old woman pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Because Cordellia asked you so,” Hasel responded by reflex, and only when he finished uttering the words did he realize the trap he had fallen right into.
“Talking about Cordellia…”
“Diorite…” The patriarch interjected with a sigh.
“You need to tell her, Hasel.”
“I do not need to.”
“Right, let me correct myself,” she looked at him sternly. “You must.”
“I…”
“The longer you wait, the worse it will be. If you love her, you will do it now.”
“Now is… too soon. My Christina will remain here for a month, we can… wait.”
“Hasel, I can only pray that you know to do the right thing.” That’s the last thing the slab of a woman said before she walked out of the office.
“I know…” He sighed exhaustedly. “But will she be able to hold the weight of the truth?”
