Flashback White Paint and Rose Gardens (Edmund Morealis)

[Adelaide Sitai]

"I don't fall so often, on balance. But I do."

Adelaide did not like being led through the garden. She had fallen, not broken her ankle! Still, wary of not contradicting Edmund, she played along. Quickly, she took up the role of an old lady, bending her back slightly and leaning more heavily on Edmund.

"Thank you Edmund," she croaked, trembling her right hand (the one that wasn't holding onto him) melodramatically"Such a nice young man."

It took less than a chime for her to lose interest in this act, feeling both that they were going too slowly and that her character was in dire need of a walking stick. Thus, she pulled away and was about to pinch Edmund on the cheek, offering her character closure, when he took the lead. The young girl was surprised but happy to note this sudden initiative in the young boy. Maybe she could push him further than she had anticipated and, in that moment, Adelaide was determined that she would make him climb the tree, no matter how much he wished to hold on to his pose of propriety. How much longer would he be able to climb trees so nonchalantly, before someone comes along to tell him that it was inappropriate for someone of his age?

"Do you like architecture?" asked Adelaide, willing to let the boy speak since he was able to say interesting things. He sounded a bit of a know-it-all, but Adelaide didn't mind as long as he truly did know it all, "I don't really know anything on the subject but, one day, I hope to. I think it's important to know about design. The other day, I drew a palace! I showed it to father and told him I might be an architect when I'm older, but he said that it wasn't very good and that I should start again." she paused, "Father values excellence."

She thought about his statement for a moment, "Yes. The inside is very nice. It's a shame that I can't show it to you. Maybe another time?" she hoped he would come again and this time that she'd meet him with the knowledge of her father.

They curled around the rose Garden path and Adelaide started veering away towards a wooded area around to the left side of the house. They passed a few trees then reached a larger, oak-like one with branches at just the right height. Adelaide sat down on the grass and took off her little shoes, unlacing them carefully then lacing them back up again after they were off, taking a good deal more care with it than might be expected of her. Then the little knee high socks came off too. She folded them in half and tucked them into their respective shoes. After placing the shoes tidily side by side and without a word, Adelaide started clambering up the tree, dropping the dress she had been carrying at its foot and indicating to Edmund that he follow her.

"Come on! From up here, you can see so much." she pouted at him, making large, dark puppy dog eyes, "I also know a game we can play if we reach the top."

Climbing the tree, higher and higher, was a wonderful feeling. Stumbling a couple of times and managing to hang on, then pull herself further up the tree. It all gave her an enormous satisfaction and it was her tree, whatever anyone said. She was sharing that with Edmund, and thus showing that she was letting him on a secret, trusting him. Maybe she'd test him, push him a little, to see if he was worthy of that trust.

[Edmund Morealis]

If she wished to mock his nature, which compelled him to offer assistance to the point of being slightly overbearing, then Edmund would let Adelaide do so. He took no offense at the lightheartedness with which she took his helping arm, though he was a little saddened that she did not accept fully his token of support. It was not merely for her ankle that he was assisting in, it was merely a symbol of his assistance for her loneliness. There were many facets to any relationship, however, even budding friendships. It would merely take a little time to get used to the dynamics of this freshly grown one. "I do not particularly like nor dislike architecture," Edmund replied, stopping and turning to Adelaide, smiling as he did so.. "I know nothing about it, but that does not preclude me from making observations on my reactions. My thoughts are simply how I have felt coming across your home and comparing it to my own. Both are magnificent in their own ways." It felt strange, to Edmund, listening to what Adelaide's father had said. Such perfectionist behaviour should have sprouted someone much closer to Edmund's nature, whereas Dimeer's kind but wise demeanour should have produced someone closer to Adelaide's character. Oddities abounded in the world, it seemed. Edmund would have commented, but it was not his place. All he could think of to say were assurances, which Adelaide had no need of. Nothing he said could change her father, so he remained silent. "It would be wonderful if you could show me around Bloodflower next time I come to visit. There is plenty an adult could tell me, but I would like to see what you see when you wander the estate." With a bright smile, Edmund nodded in the certainty that he would return. Dimeer liked to visit all of the dynasties from time to time, and if Edmund made mention of Adelaide he had no doubt that Dimeer would aim to return to Bloodflower sooner rather than later. It went without saying that Edmund would be coming along. That was a given. As they walked among the roses, Edmund could not help but appreciate the splendour of what sat before them. Even knowing that they were meant to evoke the image of a sea of blood, their beauty was indisputable. Such astounding sights were usually limited in his experience to wondrous imagery in the books he frequented. He had the good fortune to live in Blacksugar, where the wealth of the Morealis dynasty could afford a great many wonders, but he had been raised surrounded by said wonders. Which was why he was enthralled by the simple yet gorgeous sight of the sea of flowers, where others might not be so easily enthused. Appreciation and admiration were no strangers to Edmund, but they chose now to walk beside him as he took in his surroundings. When they arrived at Adelaide's tree, Edmund was surprised by the delicacy with which she removed her footwear. Then, without missing a beat, she started climbing the tree and beckoned for him to do the same. Her eyes begged him to do the same, and Edmund could only offer a wan smile of resistance before caving in. Keeping his own shoes on, Edmund grasped the lowest branches of the tree and pulled himself up onto it, albeit a little slowly. Whilst Dimeer disliked dirt, he did not mind it nearly as much as torn clothes. So Edmund took great care as he climbed the lowest branches, lagging far behind the more sprightly-seeming Sitai. One at a time, he climbed the branches, holding onto them as he pushed against the trunk with his feet, rather than relying solely on his arms to pull himself up. "What-" pause and grunt as he pulled himself up onto another branch "-manner of game did you have in mind?"

[Adelaide Sitai]

Adelaide watched with a sense of victory as Edmund, the boy she had thought completely incapable of spontaneity or anything improper, started to climb the tree after her. If it was possible, her grin widened further, her eyes bright.
The way Edmund climbed a tree was slow, but methodical and Adelaide could not stop herself from wondering if, just like he had read to scratch cats behind ears, he had read how a tree might be climbed.

"Did your father teach you about architecture?" she asked, leaning back against the tree trunk with a small smile, still believing that the nature of his comments on the house must arise from some sort of learning, "He must be an intelligent man. Or your mother, perhaps..."

A slight shadow overcame the girl's face as her thoughts rested on the Mother she had no memory of, the mother who, undoubtedly, would have been perfect enough to know lots and lots about architecture and everything else. After all, everyone seemed to describe her as a bastion of virtues, somebody whom Adelaide could never live up to. Still, she shook off this though quickly enough, literally shaking her head as if a fly were buzzing around it. Her attention returned to Edmund who, she noticed, had not taken off his shoes. Maybe he thought he'd climb more easily with them? Even though they offered less grip and Adelaide considered there was more probability of falling while wearing them.

"Here." she held out a hand to help him take the last step, or rather clamber, and reach her level. Maybe he wouldn't need the hand but maybe she was also trying to show him the same solidarity, the same gesture of friendship that he had to her when he had helped her up after she'd fallen, "From up here, the roses look like an embroidered red carpet with green trimmings," she giggled, "See?"

Her hand flew out to indicate the patchwork quilt of flowers in front of her.

"You know what the thing is with Roses? The most beautiful ones never smell the best. The best ones for scent are the slightly older ones, that look a little bruised. As though their pure scent was some sort of swansong. Roses are not my favourite flower though." she looked away from Edward, pensively looking at the Bloodflower house, "Actually, you'd think we would have actual Bloodflowers as our main flower, but that's not the case. You know Bloodflower is the colloquial term for..." Adelaide paused, she had been meaning to make this reflection on the Plantation's name for a while now and had retained the information nestled in the back of her mind so that she could impress her Father with it, "For tropical milkweed, or Asclepias curassavica. I don't know what they look like though."

Adelaide realised that she had wondered off the topic of her favourite flower as her mind wandered and she spoke her thoughts aloud. With a little shrug of nonchalance and a short laugh at her own foolishness, she returned to what she had been about to say, "No. My favourite flowers are Camellias, specifically white ones. I also like Lily of the Valley - they look like tiny bells and sometimes I imagine that, when people are not looking, squirrels and rabbits and other tiny creatures use them to make music. What's your favourite flower?"

It took her a tick, or several, too long to realise that she was talking about flowers to a boy, she flushed. He was undoubtedly more interested in other things and she was just reinforcing notions he might have that girls were no fun to be around.

"It's more a challenge than a game." she said, changing the subject, "Only I can't tell you what it is first. It's a test."

[Edmund Morealis]

It was no easy matter, climbing a tree for the first time. While the branches were all within appealing grasp, the young Morealis had no experience at all in such an activity, and nearly as little practice in physical exertion of any kind. He supposed, offhandedly, that he would have to adopt a regiment - was that the word? - of some sort when enough time passed that his age no longer complemented his physique. "As I said, I know nothing about actual architecture," Edmund replied between little grunts of exertion as he climbed. "My father has not had the opportunity to teach me anything, as he has spent most of my life inside the brewery on our plantation." The young boy spared a thought for the father he hardly saw. As he had heard it, his father had been spending copious amounts of time within the brewery even as Edmund himself was born, and it was soon after Amarantha came into the world that Maathias became a hermit on his own family's plantation. Whatever had driven the man to so passionately pursue brewing pushed him far enough to ignore his children. Which was fine, as far as Edmund was concerned, for even his earliest memories were devoid of his father. Dimeer had taken up that particular mantle and was fulfilling the responsibilities more than adequately, perhaps owing to the fact he had already raised his own children. It had no bearing on Edmund though, and he forced the thoughts from his head as he reached for the next branch, pausing suddenly when he noticed little Adelaide's offered hand. With a warm smile, he took it and pulled himself up onto the branch on which she sat waiting. Though he had accepted the token of assistance, he remained careful to shoulder most of his weight himself, not wishing to burden Adelaide nor risk her pulling too hard and falling off the branch. Even so, the gesture of help was much appreciated, and he tried to tell her in his beaming smile. I only wish as was not so slow as to require that assistance. "That comparison does fit surprisingly well," observed Edmund as he looked out along the sea of roses, the sight recapturing his awe all over again. It really was beautiful. The paths down below looked like so many threads along the great red tapestry, weaving through the vast expanse. So wrapped up in the warm glow of the flowers was Edmund that it took him a short while for him to return to his senses enough to realize Adelaide was talking again, at which point he smiled and did his best to relax on the branch. It was difficult, since he was wary of leaning too far to either side and falling from the tree, but he managed to distribute his weight in a way that required little work. From this position, he listened to Adelaide's wondering about the flowers in the garden and the plant for which her home was named. Edmund felt bad thinking so, but he was surprised at the amount of deliberate reflection that she had spent on the topic. Perhaps there was something about flowers that stirred her curiosity, or perhaps she was studying it for something in particular. Either way, the young boy sought to overcome his shame by paying closer attention, and waiting patiently to learn what he could about the girl before him. "Mine is the orchid," Edmund said softly in answer to her question, replying without hesitation. "However, it is in my name, so I am inherently biased." The young Morealis frowned curiously. "What kind of challenge? How do I participate?"

[Adelaide Sitai]

Adelaide's face momentarily settled into a frown as she heard the news of his Father. It seemed so completely alien to her, to have a Father that teaches you nothing and, from the tone of his voice, didn't want a lot to do with him. Her own Father, though sometimes harsh in his desire for his daughter to share his almost perfectionist attitude to work and even hobbies, was also affectionate and involved, willing to defend anything she did and offer her help when she asked for it.

"Oh." she reached out and took his hand between hers, in a gesture of solidarity with what she viewed as a very sad situation to be in. Resting her hands in her lap, his still between them, she said, trying to lighten the mood with a little laugh even if it didn't work, "Well, at least you did not turn into a socio.." she stumbled on the word, "Sociopath."

She was sure that she had read, somewhere in passing, that abandonment issues could do that.

"Your name? I thought your name was Edmund!" she looked at him with surprise, her brow furrowing in confusion, "Oh, wait you mean a middle name!"

Adelaide decided that it was nicer than her own multiple names: Ursula, Anouk, Blanche and Octavia, too long and complex even if she only went by Adelaide Blanche Sitai when it came to an occasion when a middle name was needed.

"Mine is Blanche. Sort of." she had decided that she wouldn't tell him but, being of an open and loquacious nature, she couldn't stop herself from saying, sort of apologetically, "Well, no. My full name is Adelaide Ursula Anouk Blanche Octavia Sitai. But I don't use all of those all the time. It would be decidedly too silly."

With a shrug punctuating her last words, she turned away and reached out behind the trunk of the tree where, tucked behind a knob, was a small log (or rather thick stick) to the centre of which a piece of rope was tied securely. And the same rope was just as securely tied to a think branch in front of them.

"Alright. You can go first."

Hoping that he wouldn't take fright at the sight of what could be considered a stick on a string, and realising this might confuse him and he would probably take a little more persuading, she continued, "Basically, you sit on this stick, putting your legs on either side of the rope and push yourself off of the trunk of the tree." then, more convincingly, "You'll love it. It feels like complete abandonment, like flying through the air. And it's entirely safe."

Well, it was safe as long as he didn't fall but that seemed impossible to the young girl. Nobody had ever fallen before. The worst that Adelaide had ever suffered was rope burn and that had only happened once in all the times she had done it. Zuleikha had done it too, and probably weighed the same amount as Edmund, so there was no chance of the rope breaking. Not to mention that Adelaide had far worse balance than he seemed to. So, a grin stretching from ear to ear, she held out the fabricated swing to the boy.

"Come on... you'll never experience this sort of thing in a book. I dare you." And her eyes, sparkling happy, had him know she would be grossly disappointed if he didn't take it off her. For then, she would lose some of her admiration for him and would surely think less of him.

[Edmund Morealis]

Edmund sighed. "Yes, at least I did not turn into a sociopath." The boy had lost count of how many times he had been given sympathy for his father's absence. Really, it had happened at such a young age that it had no bearing on him. Most of his life was spent under Dimeer's care, and wonderful care it was. Though Edmund's own father had withdrawn wholly from his life, he indeed had a father figure in the form of Dimeer. The number of apologies he had to field from people who had no deeper understanding of Edmund's life was increasingly annoying. At least Adelaide did not apologize, and appreciated her attempt to reassure him even if it was unnecessary. For this reason, and for fear that he would offend the honest girl, Edmund's smile quickly returned and he let his hand lay within hers for a while before withdrawing it. Even if at this age he tended to rebuff any sympathy on account of his father, he was still aware of how genuine Adelaide's sympathy was rather than the token apologies he usually received. There was much he had to do to keep up with her, much he had to offer if he hoped to match her kindness. "I did not mean to disregard your compassion. Forgive me, it was childish on my part. Thank you for your good feelings, though I assure you that by now I have become well and truly accustomed to the lack of a biological father." Edmund nodded at Adelaide's understanding. "Yeah, Edmund Orchid Morealis is what I go by. I have others, but those exist only for the point of sounding fancy. Instead, it results in sounding pretentious and difficult to reiterate. So I keep the flower in my name, like my sister." He wondered briefly what compelled the dynasties to give their children so many useless names. Clearly it was meant to be impressive, but Edmund could not fathom why so many names would be considered such. "Yes, though I find it equal parts silly and unnecessary," Edmund replied, sighing again - at the idea of multiple names, rather than Adelaide's own. "Why must the adults give us so many names that we never use? I doubt I would be able to tell you all of mine, so long ago I had forgotten some." Then she turned and gave him a stick. Specifically, it was a stick with a sturdy rope attached to its center, the other end of which was attached to the branch upon which the two dynasty children found themselves. Stick was an inadequate word for what he was offered, Edmund decided, as it was much thicker than what the word stick brought to mind. It was closer to the width of the branch upon which the two sat, which meant it could brace a person easily most likely. Was it meant to be swing? So it was, if Adelaide's explanation was anything to go by. Still, it was not something that Edmund thought of as 'entirely safe' by any stretch of the words. "How many times have you done it?" asked Edmund. It would not do him good if he received just another reassurance. Instead, he wanted to know what the success rate was of the swing. And yes, he realized how silly that sounded, which was why he did not say it aloud. How could I ever disappoint those eyes? There was much about Adelaide that reminded Edmund of his sister, but those eyes of expectation and hope were perhaps the greatest semblance the Sitai had with Amarantha. Eyes like those had not so much challenged him as lulled him into doing many things in the past, from chasing her through the fields to playing hide and seek in the manor. Both were very bad ideas, but there was a point where Edmund just could not say no. It was usually about the time those eyes were made. Taking carefully the rope, he shifted on his seat so that he could work the swing beneath his thighs a little. It was close enough to his knees so as to still be comfortable for him, and one he was ready he reeled in the rope so that it was taut against the branch. "Please refrain from swinging me forcefully until I am settled. Please?" With that request out of the way, Edmund looked down at the rope in his hands and began breathing deeply, trying to steel his nerves. Doing his best to avoid looking at the ground, he backed up against the trunk of the tree and carefully slid down to the next branch. Now that he had a clearer path with which to swing, he was ready. Physically, at least. The young boy was not afraid of heights, but he was most definitely afraid of falling. Still, he trusted Adelaide enough to believe that the swing worked, and the prospect was sound enough that it did not set off any warnings within Edmund's head. With another couple deep breaths, Edmund held the last and slipped out of the tree's embrace. Wordless was his fall, and though he was afraid his eyes remained open to watch his descent. It was quick, breathless, and a little painful as the sudden stop pushed the swing into his thighs a bit. Air rushed past his face as the rope tensed, the momentum carrying Edmund a good distance from the tree where he once more was treated to a magnificent view of the roses. Although he was not quite as elated as Adelaide must have felt each time she dropped, Edmund decided that it was definitely worth taking the risk. His forward movement slowed gradually, then reversed as the swing reached the end of its arc, sending Edmund back toward the tree. For the moment, he let the swing run its course, contenting himself to watch the roiling sea of flowers before rim. It was a neat feeling, swinging through the air, and it felt good that the risk was rewarded.

[Adelaide Sitai]

Adelaide watched with a small smile as Edmund went soaring through the air on the end of the rope. As he swung backwards and forwards, it seemed to take on the same sort of rhythmic and even quality of a pendulum of a clock. The young girl looked on with interest, her head dotting to the left and to the right as she followed the boy's progress with her eyes. Out, right in front of the Sun so that it framed him like an aureole and back, into the leafy shadows of the tree which he was rendered unable to clamber back up, especially at the speed he was going.

Either way, he did seem to be enjoying himself and it was something which Adelaide was glad to note. Try as he might, Edmund was still enough of a child to swing out of a high tree, held up by only a piece of rope, and have his face light up while he was doing so. That said, Adelaide could not help but strongly suspect that he would not like the next bit of the proceedings - as in, the actual getting down from his swing. It was probably already dawning on him that to drop would be dangerous and that to swing back up to the tree that he had dropped from would take the skill of an acrobat. Naturally, there was a way down but it would surprise Adelaide if he proved to be quite disapproving of such a way down.

Still, for now, she could swing him a little. She stabled herself on the tree and, stomach pressed against a large branch for safety, she pushed herself up to where the rope was tied and grabbed it. With a little laugh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she pulled the rope towards her and leant back, so as to give it more of an élan. Then she let go and sent the makeshift swing swinging in the other direction, out to be framed by the sun once again.

"Is this alright?" the girl asked, enthusiastically pushing her new friend out again, "Tell me if it's too fast for you."

Naturally, she had to cater for his less adventurous soul but, at the same time, she could not help but think he had surprised her, and proved himself a great deal more brave and adventure-seeking than she had thought up until then. For she knew people who could talk the talk and never walked the walk. Such people were timewasters, quite unlike Edmund, who had found himself able to walk the walk, even though he had not even attempted talking the talk. Obviously all the boy needed was a little fresh air rather than the dusty, mouldy air of an old library.

"If you want to get down at any point," Adelaide said finally, unable to hide the fact much longer, "You have to keep swinging and grab on to the tree in front of us. Of course, it might take two or three tries. And it is the only way without getting a ladder. You can't jump - you'd break your leg - and you can't go backwards like this - you'd need to be some sort of acrobat to do that. Take your time, naturally, but know that that's really the only safe way out."

That said, safety was hardly present at any rate.

[Edmund Morealis]

"The speed is just fine, thank you, Adelaide," Edmund called up to the little girl above him, feeling slightly awkward in that he was the one down here on the swing while she was offering to push him. Previously, all possible scenarios in his head led him to believe that they would have been in the opposite position, yet here they were. It appeared that Edmund was capable of surprising even himself.

Such an adventurous risk was uncharacteristic of his carefully groomed childhood. There might yet be more to him than even he realized.

The method of how he was to get down was a question that had crossed his mind several times since he mounted the swing, but each time he pushed them out of sight so that he might enjoy the view for a little bit longer. There was something about that way of thinking that made Edmund uncomfortable, simply putting off the problem so that he could enjoy the now, but as with his concern about descending from the swing he pushed that away for the moment. For only a few ticks more, he would like to enjoy the red roses of the Bloodflower estate.

However, some part of his mind refused to let go of the puzzle of how indeed he would get down. Swinging back to the tree would be impossible, and dropping would be dangerous. He doubted someone would be chaperoning Adelaide each time she swung, so chances are that the best bet would be to get off at the next tree.

Adelaide confirmed his words. Sometimes Edmund hated his brain.

Unable to enjoy himself in the swing anymore, Edmund's thoughts turned toward finding ways to make his descent safer. His words were heard only by him as he thought quickly, not used to having another to bounce ideas off of. Not that Adelaide would be of any help - she would just scoff and insist again that it was safe, knowing full well that there was very little safe about it. Apparently the thrill of the adventurous risk had impaired his ability to think things through, as he had not actually considered until he was already swinging how to get down, and now was beginning to regret his decision.

Not that Edmund was giving up hope. While he thought, he began swinging farther, leaning more so as to exert more force with each swing. He did not like this at all, but unless he were to just drop from this swing there was no other way down. It was possible he could tell Adelaide to go get help, but he did not wish to bother the Sitais with something so childishly stupid.

Indeed not. There was only one way down, and that was the avenue which Adelaide had provided. That being said, it was not an appealing option, and Edmund wondered whether his body was adequately active enough to manage such a precarious descent. Of course, before that, he would have to hold onto the branches of the opposite tree and somehow gain a footing that he could dismount the swing fully without the swing's rope tangling with him and pulling him out of the tree and throwing him down toward the ground below.

Edmund had a tendency to think too much when uncertain.

"I will do my best, but I am not as active as you are," Edmund called up to Adelaide, fear tinging his words a little. "I might have some difficulty holding myself close to the branches as I dismount, though I must try. Should I fall, go get Dimeer."

It was truly a morbid thought for him to have, however necessary it was to think of such an outcome. Adelaide's casual handling of such dangerous situations was beginning to make Edmund re-evaluate the girl, and she did not seem all that worried when she told him of how he was to get down. Likely it would be fine, but anything was possible. Her confidence - or potentially her lack of interest - was not reassuring, but it prevented Edmund's little mind from sliding further into pessimism.

By now, he was swinging close to the other tree, and each pass of the swing's midpoint was sending him slightly closer. It was approaching the point that, should Edmund reach his hand out to the side, he could touch the branch from which he jumped. Fortunately, he did have an idea to make his dismounting mildly safer, and that was to keep swinging until he was swinging into the branches of the opposite tree. From there, surrounded by foot and handholds, it would be a bit safer than simply trying to grab a branch and pull himself closer. A few more swings would carry him to this point, and after that he would just have to take the leap of faith.

He leaned back and swung clear into the branches of the other tree, where he quickly reached out and grabbed a smaller branch to his right.

At that point, the rest came a little more easily. He pressed his right foot against one of the branches lower down and grabbed a thicker branch to his left, taking his weight off the swing. He could feel the rope pulling gently at him, and for a split tick he panicked, but recovered himself once he grabbed an equally sturdy branch on his right. Leaning on his right foot, he brought his left hand over to his right side so that his torso was out of the path of the rope, leaving only his leg straddling the swing. Wrapping his arms around the branch he gripped, Edmund pulled it close to his chest - which also brought his balance over his braced right foot - and pulled his left leg around the swing and onto the branch, sending it spinning back toward Adelaide.

It was with a huge sigh of relief that he relaxed slightly, now very soundly within the tree and no longer above empty air. Of course, he still had to get down, but that was in the future.

[Adelaide Sitai]

It wasn't actually as difficult as Edmund seemed to think it was but Adelaide considered that pointing this out might be a little tactless, so instead she stood, watching, waiting to applaud him when he reached the other tree. Still, he swung back and forth a few times, leaving Adelaide wondering if he was ever going to make the leap of faith. If he did, he would truly be unlikely to fall unless he had a particularly bad grip. Still, at one point, she considered that it would possibly be a good idea to climb down, ready to run and fetch a slave with the ladder.

"If you fall, I will indeed fetch your guardian." But not unless he did fall. That was when the trouble of letting someone break their leg would outweigh the trouble that alerting someone to what she was doing would cause her. Still, it would earn her two tight slaps and no dessert with dinner for the rest of the Season... if she was lucky.

Just as she was wondering exactly what kind of punishment she would receive if the worst came to the worst, Edmund managed to reach the other tree.

"Come on..." she murmured to herself as he clambered up, getting a tighter grip and finally stabilising himself. With a laugh, she clapped happily, "Well done Edmund!"

She only just managed to grab the rope of the swing as it came hurtling back. With a small smile, she grabbed onto the stick firmly with both hands and jumped out, swinging forward. She was petite enough to go completely with the élan of the pendulum-style contraption, reaching the other tree in what felt like less than a tick. Knowing that it would be dangerous if she didn't reach the other side immediately, for she did not have the strength to hold on for more than the initial swing, she flung herself off and at the other tree. With an exhalation, she hit a large branch of the tree, hit squarely in the stomach.

"Ach." Adelaide clambered up, massaging her stomach slightly, wincing and inwardly cursing as she realised that a huge green stain had appeared on the front of her white slip, the result of her rough encounter with the tree.

"Alright! That was amazing Edmund!" she said, shaking off the encounter with the tree and raising her shining eyes to the boy, "Especially since it was your first time..." she was exaggerating slightly, but wasn't being dishonest. The young girl had a tendency towards exaggeration, but only meant to make things more interesting and lively rather than any other reason.

"What do you play when you're at home?" then, as an afterthought, "Do you have any games you can teach me?"

Adelaide did not know many games, other than the ones she invented for herself, but was always eager to learn more. Especially since she was of a competitive spirit and took great joy at beating others at their own games.

"Unless, you're always too busy reading..."

[Edmund Morealis]

Looking back, the leap that Edmund had taken was likely not nearly as bad as it seemed at the time. The possibility of danger always appears much higher when one is aware of it, after all. Yet that did not mean that it would have been easy taking the daring jump from the swing - like Adelaide so aptly demonstrated. The boy was about to call out until she landed on branch nearby, receiving the full force of the impact in her abdomen. No, Edmund much preferred his safer, less painful method. Besides, about the only thing he had experience gripping was a pen, so he did not trust himself to be able to hold onto a branch as well as Adelaide.

Even if they were well-intended, the girl's words could not help but feel patronizing to the inexperienced lad. He had no doubt she was wondering when, if ever, he was going to make the jump. Still, it was not as if he could hold it against her. So instead, he simply smiled.

"Thank you," he offered. "I apologize for taking so long, I am not nearly experienced enough to make a full leap as you did. It does not appeal to me to take such a chance."

Edmund began descending the tree as he thought about Adelaide's query, thinking back over the years at any games he might have played. They were few and far between, mostly with his cousins and sister, and the more he thought about it the more he realized it was usually just variations of Fortune. There were some times when the children of the Morealis Dynasty as a whole would play Mulct after a particularly boring evening for the adults to enjoy, but that was the extent of his knowledge. He realized that Adelaide was right - he was essentially too busy reading to play games.

"I play Fortune on occasion with my sister and cousins," Edmund said up the tree, reaching down for the next branch. "At times, after big family gatherings, we gather together and play Mulct, and a few times I have had the opportunity to play tag."

It was clearly abnormal for a kid to play so little, but Edmund did not wish to dwell on that for too long, so he instead turned the focus back on Adelaide. "Who do you play most of your games with?" he asked. "Do you usually play with slaves, or do you have a family member you can have fun with whenever the two of you get bored? I suppose I have my sister, but we are both too busy usually to play games. I am sure someone like you would find more time, however."