It was midway in April, and the weather was more pleasant than ever. Me and Eugene often talked in the pet room with the windows open and smelled the outside air recently. He would even draw me, and I was surprised at the likeness of my image on paper.
"You look beautiful," he said, looking at the paper where my face was, eyes almond-shaped, nose two faint strokes, lips lightly shaded, and hair pulled back, a few strands brushing my face. I laughed.
"You made me much more beautiful."
"No, I didn't," he argued. "I pride myself on drawing everything as I see it." Then he smiled.
Sometimes at night I would go outside to talk, with Rudy, or Clo, or Beth, but never as a group. We never hung out together again, all four of us.
From the moment Beth's identity got revealed, we could no longer pretend to be what we were before: four poor girls who just happened to be hired at the house of Beardsley by chance.
I tried to act like I always did, and so did Clo, but Rhiannon retreated back into her shell and Beth was like an entirely new person, blunt and distant.
So when Beth suddenly called for us to have a meeting, even I was surprised.
All of us had finished bathing and were in our nightwear, me in the gown Beth gave me, which felt like silk to the skin and spun around gracefully when I swirled, unlike the old nightgown I had that hung down like a potato sack.
"I want to talk to all of you," Beth said, "about something quite serious."
I was sitting in my bed at that point, and had just released my hair from their braids and was starting to comb them out. Her voice was different from her usual tone and her eyes refused to meet mine.
"What's the matter, Beth?" I asked, smiling a little to ease the tension.
"You guys are probably still mad at me for keeping my identity a secret," Beth said, and then looked at her slippers, "but this might be the last time we might see each other again, so I want to properly apologize for my actions and make up with the first friends I've ever had."
"What?" Clo shot up in her bed, her covers thrown off and sliding partially to the floor. "What do you mean 'last time'?"
"I haven't heard anything about this too, Beth!" I cried. I began sobbing, and then Clo made a pained expression. Rhiannon watched us awkwardly.
"Wait!" Beth ran over to me. "I said might two times, Shuyan! Might! Might!"
"And what do you mean by that?"
Beth sighed.
"My godmother, Rachel Mondeschein, sent me a letter to tell me she is coming over on May tenth, so in less than a month. She will be taking me back with her." Beth fell quiet for a while. "I think I might go back, too."
"You are?" Rhiannon spoke, her voice strange.
"Well, I can't hide forever." Beth laughed. "And I already asked Master Kupka for an audience with my—uh, brothers, sometime." She made a face, as though saying the words literally hurt her.
"So I'll never see you again?" I was still sobbing.
Beth laughed, completely unaffected. But then she engulfed me in a hug.
"Shuyan, I'm really happy, you know, to have a friend cry over me. It's the first time."
"You're one of my first friends, too," I whispered. Suddenly two more people hugged us.
I had expected Clo—but not Rhiannon.
"Beth, you were like a younger sister to me," Clo said, voice raspy from straining to not cry.
Beth giggled. "This takes me back to that night we played cards."
"Yes." Rhiannon suddenly pulled apart from us and cleared her throat. "I've been keeping a secret from you guys too."
Slowly, Clo pulled away, and then Beth, and all three of us sat on my bed in a line facing Rhiannon.
I wiped my tears to look at her. I was the only one who knew.
"I'm a spy for Mister Silas."
"What?"
Both Clo and Beth were wide-eyed.
"Did he do anything to you?" Clo said, shaking her by the shoulders. "Like call you to his room or something?" I didn't mention that I was. Rhiannon only sighed.
"Calm down, Clo. He did, but it was purely for business. My job was merely to sort out a lot of Lord Adam Beardsley's files and diaries. I can help with what little things I know."
"Then is there really a R.M.?" I asked. She nodded.
"Lord Adam Beardsley mentions him several times in his diary."
"And we've just found out it's a her," I said triumphantly.
"What?" Clo turned to me. "You are also a spy?"
"Yes," I said, suddenly forgetting that Clo was the only one who didn't know now. Then, to reassure her, "I've just recently told Beth, and I've always been working with Matheus and Rudy, so I was safe—"
"Ahhh!" Clo collapsed on her bed, her shoulders slumped and arms going limp. "I cannot believe it! Thank God I chose to work for the children and wasn't caught up in this!"
"Yes, it was indeed lucky of you," Rhiannon said with a wry smile. "I knew Shuyan was working for Master Tobias and Master Eugene, though."
"And you didn't mind?"
"No," she said plainly. "I always despised Mister Silas. He's too pre-occupied with himself to be a suitable heir." I smiled.
"Master Eugene would be the perfect heir. He would let women come into the house and families lives together—"
"So that's why you were always going on about Master Eugene!" Clo suddenly realized. "Once you stood up for him after we said he wasn't competent enough to be heir."
"Yes." The girls stared intensely at me. My face felt hot. Then I explain, "Everyone in the house supports him, from his brothers to the staff."
"And me," Beth said.
"I suppose I do too," Clo said slowly. "If Shuyan trusts him that much. What a surprising turn of events."
"I'm not finished, though," Rhiannon said. We all turned to her in awe, even me.
"What is it?" Clo asked.
"I actually came to the House of Beardsley for a reason too." She tightened her jaw.
"You too? What is it?" Clo asked.
"Don't tell me you're my sister," Beth said nervously, turning her body away as though she truly feared that was the case—but it couldn't be, right?
"No, I'm Olive's cousin."
We all froze. Then slowly Clo shook her head.
"This is all too fast for me to comprehend. Is everyone in England related to each other? Wait!" Clo turned to me, eyes narrowed. "Shuyan, tell me this first: are you related to anyone here?"
I didn't know if she was trying to be funny or not, so I didn't reply.
"That's not it," Rhiannon said, "to be more accurate, I applied here knowing Olive was my cousin, and with the intent of taking him with me."
"But you said you have no family," Beth said.
"Yes, I don't. I want to raise Olive myself."
"You won't be able to provide for yourself and him!" Clo exclaimed, all too familiar with the task of feeding a large family.
"I know." Rhiannon pressed her lips together in anguish. "Originally, when Olive's father, my uncle, died, my father and I were his only other relations and were supposed to take him in, but my father was an alcoholic who didn't make any money. Due to this, Olive got adopted by the dreaded house of Beardsley, and I had no idea what to do. I couldn't come here, and I couldn't raise him, and my worthless father only robbed me of my earnings." Rhiannon crossed her arms.
"Oh, Rhiannon," Beth whispered. I only stared at her. I was always unaware of everything she was she went through—and she went through so much.
"And then?" Clo asked.
"And then this year I heard the Beardsleys were hiring maids, and I knew I must get in, no matter what," Rhiannon continued. "But when I came, I realized I wasn't needed here."
"What do you mean?"
"I knew it the first time I saw Olive. All dressed up like a nobleman's son, and—" her voice cracked, "and when he saw me, he only saw a stranger. He no longer recognized me."
"That's absurd!" Clo stood up from my bed and walked to Rhiannon. "Are you planning on never telling him who you are?"
"It doesn't matter." Rhiannon was firm. "I've seen him. He is happy here, Elias is a good older brother to him, he has an education, and never goes to bed hungry. He won't ever have to live a life like mine."
"You're heartless," Clo whispered. Her eyes looked like they were looking at a stranger.
"I didn't think you were this type of person, Rhiannon. Do you really think Olive will be happier without you? You're his family—not to mention his only family left! A family member who came to see he was safe!" Clo's eyes filled up with tears. "A family member who cares so much about him!"
Rhiannon turned around, hiding her face from us, but Clo didn't stop.
"You can't possibly think he truly is happy after losing his father and cousin!"
"Of course I don't." Rhiannon's voice was a whisper at that point. "But what can I do? He doesn't recognize me anymore."
"Rhiannon." I stood up and walked to her. She turned around to peer at me with red-rimmed eyes. "Rhiannon, remember in January, when Clo took off some days to visit her family, and you were in charge of the children's room?"
She nodded.
"That day, didn't Olive call you Rapunzle?"
A wry smile danced on her lips.
"Yes. His favorite fairy tale is Rapunzle, and he calls every girl with long golden hair Rapunzle."
"Then don't you see?" Clo grabbed Rhiannon's shoulders. "Don't you see how wrong you are?"
"No," Rhiannon said flatly. "I told you—he calls every girl he sees with long golden hair Rapunzle."
"Olive didn't call you Rapunzle because you remind him of her," Clo said. "Olive calls people Rapunzle because they remind him of you. Rapunzle is his favorite fairy-tale because it reminds him of you."
Rhiannon stood there, her always straight back suddenly slack, her usual confidence gone.
"But Olive—but Olive doesn't remember me like before."
"He's a child!" Beth said.
Beth had came to our small circle too, and held Rhiannon's hand.
"Of course children forget things. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't try and rekindle his memories. Maybe he still remembers."
"Trust me," Clo said, voice soft and motherly, "family is more important than any material things. I know if I had a cousin like you, I'd want that more than anything else."
Rhiannon bursted into tears, the first time I've seen her cry, and pushed her face into Clo's shoulder. Clo hugged her, two hands patting her back and repeating "There, there," again and again.
At that moment, embracing Rhiannon and smiling gently, Clo looked more like Virgin Mary than the images I've seen in any church, her skin glowing and her eyelids half open, lashes laid spread out on her cheeks like strokes of paint.
I walked over to the three girls, and we held each other tightly.
It might be the last time, but there was the feeling of a burden being lifted, and I no longer feared the future—no. Not with my friends by my side.