There was a library, Porcelain had it passed many times. She could feel the call of old books lingering behind that tour. Oh, of how they longed to be read, but oh...how it wasn’t meant to be just yet...
The huge carved doors were locked; a huge ostentatious padlock in place. How peculiar, she thought each she saw it. The thing was covered in a thick layer of dust. So were the windows. She would find this little tidbit when she tried to peer in. It coated her gloved fingertips as she smeared it away. She longed to see within. It was dim, scare natural light coming in from some unseen windows. Strange, how the rest of the manor was almost painstakingly clean, but here was so dusty...and forgotten.
Also, why lock up a library? Was there some bitter nostalgia hidden in that vast wonderland? The mere thought of it caused her heart to flutter, her breath to catch. The thoughts that consumed were full of whimsy. There was so much she had yet to explore, but this was the first time she had been presented with a locked door. She felt like stomping her foot in a juvenile tantrum; it just wasn't fair.
Again and again she passed the door. At various times on, various days. Each time exactly the same-forbidden.
Once, she caught Kanto, the ....other companion coming out of it...Her mouth went dry; anticipation gripping her tight. This...This was her chance! She realized, her heart thudding.
The chance she had been desperately been longing for; and there she stood frozen. Their eyes locked, if only for a moment. His normally blue eyes seemed to appear golden. She took in a breath, clasping her hands to her chest as she tried to summon up the proper words.
"Yes, Lady Porcelain?" Kanto asked, still eyeing her as they stood there. It was almost akin to a standoff; the tension lingering.
"May I go inside?" Porcelain finally asked in a painfully light whisper. Kanto deigned to look taken aback; she hadn't thought it that strange of a request. She pondered if he was putting on airs. "Why ever for?"
“Please sir?" She couldn't quite put into words her longings; it was just so...intense. Certainly a chaotic mess trying to pull her down...
Kanto sighed. "Fine, little Porcelain." he breathed out, but in a quiet tone; almost stilted. He relented, but was obviously very hesitant about it. It just made her all the more curious.
"He hid this all away..." she realized out aloud.”Why?" she asked, more into the air than anything as she gazed around.
The place was massive, the shelves reaching towards the high ceiling. The walls between each shelves holding....she stepped closer. Paintings, she realized; in ornate silver frames. The room was circular; the light came in from the skylight. There were tables and huge; plush looking chairs. All to enjoy; but yet it was locked up?
But the paintings are what interested her. She looked back at Kanto...How solemn he appeared. "Bitter nostalgia." kanto uttered. "It haunts him; his youth and all that he's lost."
Youth? She thought of Mr. Autumn; of his smooth , blemish free pale skin, of his delicate features, of his luminosity, that slender toned frame; the gleaming mane hair. Was all that not youth?
She knew not of his past, of anything. It was not her place as a pampered plaything to know, was it? Instantly he felt a rush of....anger? There it was, bitter on her tongue. Something else too, jealousy? How deep was the love he had for Kanto-that he knew it all? How much worth did she truly have?
Pushing such morose thoughts aside, she walked closer to a painting; and there here he was...Mr. Autumn-in youth-even from a painting she could tell the difference. He was vibrant, alive-skin a glow. She began to take in details; his hair only waist length, slightly wavy and lilac. There was something different in his features, an almost sweetness mingling with a self assured smirk. He was on a snow-white horse dressed in an ornate ensemble, looking closer; she realized he had black fox ears and tail. Kitsune, she realized.
Stepping to another one, there he was again, hair a mauve color instead; different outfit but one just as lavish. He was with another male, one that brought to mind Ancient Egyptian mythology. He was tall, with golden caramel skin and dark chocolate hair. His face was exquisite, something almost feline about his features, high cheek bones, broad nose, full lips. She looked closer still, there it was in his kohl rimmed eyes; that golden gleam...
With a pained gasp, she realized she had seen those eyes, Kanto.....
She saw the rings, the detailing in the painting that great. She saw the bassinette, the dainty infants in frilly lavish-ness. The love that flowed between was great; it sang from that painted surface. Oh how it sang to her as she touched it. She could see the blood splattered in the ground; long since dried...
"Who are you to him?" Porcelain asked, whirring around. “I’m his caretaker, his companion Lady Porcelain. I chase the monsters away, soothe the nightmares. Kiss the wounds." He listed off, ensnaring her.
"Your eyes, I saw them." Porcelain uttered, mind whirring to connect the dots. The way he was with Mr. Autumn, there was something clearly deep and complicated... An old love... "Do you know what it is you ask for, Porcelain?" Came an almost pained whisper.
“Are you he?" Porcelain gestured towards the painting, to the golden one. She knew the physicality was different, but...but she could feel the soul. How it radiated out of his eyes; thrummed through his very being. Though, clearly he tried to shroud it; it was still there for her to glimpse...to feel.
There was a harsh silence, raw emotion taking over Kanto's features. “Azrael told you?" Kanto finally asked. "Azrael?" Porcelain didn't speak to anyone of this, much less one of this title. "Whom?"
Kanto clicked his tongue in a sound of frustration. “The one in the painting is Prince Zyrouki. He died, there was...a war. “Kanto uttered in a solemn tone. She knew it was merely only the body perished, even if he didn't deign to utter the words aloud.
“I’ll be there for him always; whether he realizes it or not. Even if I shall perish, I'll come back, again and again." Kanto stated, gaze not even on her. Porcelain felt her heart flutter at such words; on the edge of tears; her lip trembling, eyes stinging. Oh how could she ever hope to compare?
“Bitter memories keep him away, Porcelain. I should do something about those paintings. Perhaps cover them up?" Kanto switched tone, hiding that emotion deep within.
“Yes, that'd do nicely, perhaps then the doors can stay open...”