Agatha had to admit that she had never felt more shame in her life, but at the same time, she had never felt more loved before. It was… a weird feeling having someone apologize when they did something wrong. Unprompted at that. Christie had pushed her too far, and she simply apologized when she noticed that.

  That simple gesture made the seamstress-in-training love the porcelain doll even more. Though she’s unfortunately not as porcelain as before with all the sun she has received as of late. She had mixed feelings about that, but the slightly darker skin tone didn’t make her thin and conscious girlfriend any less beautiful.

  But if there was one thing Agatha had to take away from that moment where they both washed in the river, it was that she had been able to tell her that she loved her. Such a silly gesture, but it truly meant a great deal to her.

  The dirty-blond girl felt a weight lifted from her shoulders after having done so, her mind no longer hard-pressed on Christie, but now able to think about other things.

  Namely, her boredom.

  “Do you really need to do that?” Christie asked her as she looked over her book.

  “Need? No. Not at all. But I am so bored that I need to do something,” Agatha replied.

  What she was doing was some lithorica exercises with Amplify Duplicate to get a better understanding and handling of several simultaneous agates, as it had been a critical issue when she had to rescue Christie from the behemoth. How queer that it was me who ended up being rescued.

  “You could read?” Her bookworm and intelligent girlfriend suggested.

  “Fun fact about those books, I have already read them all.”

  “Really? I did not take you for a fast reader.”

  “And I am not, it is only that small – trivial, really – fact that it has been nine months since I started reading those novels, and you only have so many.” Agatha arched a brow as she realized a problem with her statement. “Wait, if I have read them all… then what about you?”

  “Oh, this is my third re-read of this novel in specific.”

  “Third,” the petite girl rolled her eyes.

  “Third,” the tall girl reiterated with a giggle.

  “How can you read a book again?” Agatha professed with a modicum of loathing.

  “I mean, there are things that you do not catch on your first read. And you also do not remember a complete story, so it can always catch you by surprise again on a rereading.”

  “Considering how prodigious your mind is, I doubt you have ever forgotten details about a book you enjoyed.”

  Christie didn’t reply to that statement; she simply smiled and continued reading. Agatha did the same and returned to with her training.

  Her mind still wasn’t at its peak, but she guessed that some light training would be positive, like a warm-up. She also thought of doing a bit of calisthenics, but there weren’t any nearby rivers – or at least, frequent enough – for her to justify sweating like a pig.

  So lithorica it was.

  Her current exercise was a bit of limit-testing rather than one of the several exercises René Dago had taught them on military Agatecraft. With Amplify Duplicate, Agatha was managing four agates instead of her lone one, and while it was still less than the lowest average range, it was also four times as much mental pressure as she was used to.

  Agatha had seen people sweating and grabbing their throbbing heads when manipulating all of their agates; Shayla did that a lot as she boasted sixteen of them, but that never happened with her lone agate. People had to control their agates, Agatha willed it into performing what she wanted to do.

  Now she realized that wasn’t normal. The privilege of a single agate, of being needle-focused on a single task.

  At first, she gave those four agates the Control command as it was far more mentally intensive than some, only Shape being even more draining. Therefore, she had four Three Stratum agates flying around with Amplify Duplicate Control. Well, technically speaking, it was Amplify Duplicate AND Control as commands before the Duplicate command couldn’t be joined in a series. In a way, it was as if they didn’t exist as far as the agates were concerned. So it was fairer to say she just had four First Stratum agates.

  Controlling four agates was a trivial endeavor for most, but not her. She manipulated the quartet of perfect spheres with her mind, flying them around the carriage in a mesmerizing dance. It was way easier to manipulate agates if they followed a pattern. The logic wasn’t that different from the fractals Jacobello Castellar had shown them at the start of the year with the Shape command.

  Patterns, huh? I wonder if I can apply this to other commands. As powerful as the thought was, Agatha’s mind was too dull to give it a try, so she archived the idea for the future.

  Having grown tired of the Control command, the seamstress-in-training switched her agates to her newly tested command of Watch. Then they all plummeted to the ground.

  “Huh,” she murmured.

  “What has happened?” Christie looked at the floor of the carriage as Agatha’s quartet of agates rolled around.

  Her quartet of agates rolled on the ground.

  “Ugh!” Agatha put a hand on her mouth and arched her back forward as she spontaneously grew nauseated. She instantly recalled her agates.

  “Hey, hey!” The redhead put her book aside and rushed to her side. “Is everything alright?”

  “Y-yeah, fine,” the dirty-blond girl took a deep breath. “I was trying the Watch command with my agates, and I kind of forgot that meant removing the Control command. And then… well… let us just say that if there is something more nauseating than an extra point of view, it is an extra point of view that is rolling around.”

  “I cannot say I can even begin to understand how that even works.”

  “Trust me, you do not even want,” Agatha giggled softly and leaned her head on Christie’s shoulder.

  Her tall and huggable girlfriend squinted at her. “Did you do that on purpose?"

  “Do what?” The seamstress-in-training inquired in veritable confusion.

  “Scaring me so I would sit next to you and embrace you?”

  “Oh, not at all,” Agatha nuzzled next to Christie’s chest. “But that is definitely something I have to try in the future.”

  “Oh, mock sapphire,” the redhead giggled as she put an arm against the villager’s neck and turned her head to face her. “I would really like to toy with you, but unfortunately, this is not the time or place.” She then removed herself from the embrace. “But I will also keep that play in mind.”

  “You know that you could always ask me and I would come for you, right?”

  “Same with me, always up for snuggling, but you are the one who first said we should do these things in the future.”

  “You got me there,” Agatha raised her open palms.

  Christie gave a look at the driver’s seat and checked that they didn’t have Adrien’s attention and then she kissed Agatha on the bridge of her nose, then she stood up and sat on her bench.

  “What obsession do you have with my nose as of late?” The petite girl whispered so they weren’t heard as she traced the place she had been kissed with her finger, a slight blush forming on her cheeks.

  “What can I say? You have a cute nose,” her seductive and audacious girlfriend smiled before getting back with the book.

  Agatha had her own theories on why she kissed her anywhere except her lips, or rather, anywhere on the top section of her face, but she decided not to voice them out loud. Instead, she went back to her training. She summoned her quartet of agates again and left her well lodged in her hand. Then she gave them the Watch command.

  Odd, very odd, but at least my vision isn’t tumbling around now. The previous description she had given the Watch command was wrong; she understood that now. It wasn’t a third eye that just happened to be looking elsewhere as if it was cockeyed; it was a new sense altogether. Still sight, but different. The quality of the sight of her lithic eyes was different from her fleshy ones; not better or worse, just different.

  Carefully, she picked up one of her lithic eyes and moved it upward with her other hand. There was one major difference between lithic and normal eyes: the amplitude of her field of view. Human sight was conical, but the gaze of the agates… it wasn’t limited to cones.

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  An agate saw everywhere.

  If she moved her agate behind her head, she could easily see the horses resting on the towed cart as she also saw Christie with her real eyes, plus the lithic ones in her palm. But that lone agate she was pinching between her fingers also showed her the back of her head. Agatha saw many things. Information poured into her head without any limitations, and she felt…

  Nauseated.

  The seamstress-in-training giggled and recalled her agates. That’s too heavy of a training for the time being, but if I could get used to it… there are definitely uses.

  Precisely because she excelled more in gymnastics than academics, Agatha was well aware that the brain was another muscle she could train. Her sapphire had done all the heavy-lifting so far, but now it was her time to train her lithorica muscles and bring this discipline to new heights.

  So she trained.

  Not that she had anything better to do these days. She trained, cooked, drove, occasionally did the laundry when they found a stream, as Christie was completely inept in that subject, and it was better for everyone if Adrien didn’t wash their clothes, and trained even more while driving too.

  These days went from a complete snooze-fest to one of the more frantic ones of her life. I think I’ve worked harder these last days than during most of my stay at the academy. While that wasn’t remotely true, this type of effort had left her exhausted in a completely different manner. She was utterly spent by the end of each day, and yet she woke up eager to face the next one every single time. She didn’t know why that was. Was it because she was making huge leaps in her progress of lithorica? Was it because she was entertained? Or was it because she knew she would always see that gorgeous red mane whenever she woke up?

  Perhaps they were all true, but the answer mattered not as they had finally made it to their destination.

  The Valasela Estate.

  A little less than two weeks of a road trip. Agatha had needed an agonizing month with two weeks of torturous foot travel to make it to the Skyscraper Academy, and now she had traveled a similar distance in half the time without needing to lift a muscle. She had only done so because she wanted to, not because she was needed. And yet, she didn’t feel sour. Sure, it was awful not having a single coin to your name while travelling, but the wealth of having a carriage with several mounts hadn’t upset her. If anything, it made her hopeful. Wishful.

  If I train my mind more, I will be able to sustain long flights. I wonder how long it will take me to make it from Malachite to Knight’s Ascent in a single flight? Definitely less than a week. Days? Hours maybe? It was only a handful of months ago that Agatha had almost given up, ready to go back to her village empty-handed and throw herself at the first man willing to pass the winter with her to avoid going hungry, and now she was… hopeful for the future. It was bright, and she now definitely had the answer.

  The culprit was none other than the redhead looking through the carriage’s window, her blazing mane waving like a sea thanks to the cool breeze. Agatha followed Christie’s gaze, and she finally understood.

  The size of wealth.

  She had been aware that it was called an estate and not a manor, but the Valasela Estate was as big as one wing of the Skyscraper Academy, which mind you, was a literal castle. The actual building was only two stories tall, but it was as expansive as Malachite itself, and that was without taking into account the many other properties in the perimeter.

  It was too much. Not even the behemoth had felt as heavy as the weight of all this wealth. And what made it worse was that, apparently, there were only two servants for this entire property. An estate that could likely house hundreds of people. This was a… world Agatha had never seen. The Skyscraper Academy made more sense to her as – for starters, it was fucking flying – it was the castle of the royal family once upon a time. The seat of kings and queens. She could accept that grandeur in such a case. But for a family that wasn’t full nobility? It was… odd.

  Truth was, she didn’t know what she was feeling. Perhaps a bit of disgust. Well, perhaps a lot of it. But she could never direct it to Christie, especially not as her dreamy and fanciful girlfriend looked out of the carriage’s window with hopeful eyes.

  Ah, I got it wrong all this time, Agatha realized as she lost herself in that gorgeous sight of flowing hair. Christie’s not a doll, she’s a princess.

  Minds had a curious way of making connections and justifying things, and so now the seamstress-in-training retroactively fit the image of Christina Valasela in another light. A rose-tinted light. All those actions weren’t made by a bunny or a porcelain doll, but a princess. And not just any princess.

  My princess.

  Passion unending flowed out of Agatha like Christie’s sea of stones, and she could only think about how much she hated that they were with company instead of alone in the most remote parts of the world. Agatha would give everything to be alone with Christie with no one else to judge them or steal their love.

  “We’ve arrived!” Adrien announced the moment the carriage halted to a stop. “Agatha, could you help me with the luggage while our arrival’s still unnoticed?”

  “Sure,” the dirty-blond girl jumped upright, eager to stretch her legs. A little less eager to carry all the luggage again, but she had done so before.

  As Adrien unloaded the non-valuable stuff from the top of the carriage, Agatha loaded her agate platform with all of Christie’s suitcases from the trunk. That and also her lone bag. She had had to wear her clothes for many days in a row, yet Christie had been changing whenever she pleased as her wardrobe was just that extensive. And her luxurious and fashionable girlfriend could have changed every single day instead of every so often if it wasn’t because she had shared a modicum of sympathy for her.

  And talking about Christie, the redhead was still sitting in the carriage, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

  “Is everything okay?” Agatha asked her as she stacked yet another suitcase on the growing pile.

  “Y-yes, perfectly,” Christie nodded repeatedly. That’s never a good signal.

  “So what is it? Are you nervous that everything has changed while you have been away?” The petite girl casually prodded as she lifted suitcases of her own size.

  “Uh… if anything,” the tall girl chuckled nervously, “I am worried that nothing has changed.”

  “Huh,” Agatha hummed. “I think I get it. You are worried you will still be treated like a child.”

  “I… yes!” The redhead corrected her crestfallen posture and looked at the dirty-blond girl. “How did you know?”

  “Well, I have had something similar happen to me, or at least, I thought it was similar. My mother treated me like a child before I departed for the academy, but the thing is, a lot of stuff has happened this last year and… well, I cannot say I feel like a child any longer.”

  “Yes,” Christie giggled, her expression less dreadful. “A lot of stuff has happened, and I certainly feel like an adult, but… what if my dearest father does not think the same?”

  Agatha squinted, thinking that her nervous and leporine girlfriend might be pondering about another subject altogether, but she didn’t voice out her concerns. Instead, she walked next to the window, slightly raised herself on her tiptoes, and looked at those agate eyes of her princess.

  “If your father really thinks that, then more than dearest, he is your dumbest father,” and beamed her a smile.

  After saying those words, Agatha realized how badly she had misplayed. Even if it was light-hearted, she had insulted Christie’s father, and she was well aware of how much she appreciated him. But her fears soon proved to be for nothing as her cute and understandable girlfriend reciprocated the smile and slowly lowered her head towards the window. Knowing what she was about to do – or more accurately, yearning for it – Agatha squirmed ever-so-closer to the window, even if she was already on her tiptoes.

  “Christina!” A bright male voice shouted.

  Christie tensed up.

  Agatha jumped.

  The seamstress-in-training scuttled away from the window and went back to the back of the carriage to continue loading suitcases. Depths, Agatha cursed as she put a hand on her chest as she felt her heart beat faster than ever before. That was close…

  Wanting to keep her profile low for the time being, Agatha took out her secondary agate from her pocket and gave it the Control and Watch commands. While the Control Watch series was interesting, as it allowed her to change depth perception and focus, what interested Agatha now was the developments happening in front of the carriage. And fortunately, they were close by, because her duplicated agate didn’t have space for a Hear command.

  “Oh, my Christina!” A well-dressed man said as he rushed toward the carriage with his arms wide open. He vaguely reminded Agatha of René Dago with his haircut and the way he walked.

  A small entourage followed behind him, but Agatha paid them no attention.

  “D-dearest father,” Christie sheepishly said as she stepped out of the carriage.

  The man, clearly Christie’s father, didn’t waste a second to lock the girl into an embrace. Agatha couldn’t see the slightest hint of resemblance between the two, except for the height. Christie was still young and a woman, and yet she was almost as tall as her father. Who, by the way, was fracturedly massive. Like, an absolute unit of a man. He would have been outright intimidating if he weren’t as lithe as his daughter.

  While Christie had returned the embrace, she also quickly grew tired of it as she pushed the man away. “Father, stop! You are embarrassing me!”

  The green-eyed man smiled in a vulpine manner. “I do not know what should offend me more, the fact that you just called me plainly ‘father’, or the fact that I have been pushed around by my daughter!” He raised his voice, but he didn’t look offended in the slightest.

  Christie blushed. “I have… gained a bit of muscle during this year.”

  “Yes, I have noticed,” he chuckled and patted the redhead.

  The gesture was almost awkward considering the similarity of heights. It looks far more natural when it’s Christie patting… Agatha blushed and awkwardly caressed her head.

  “Ah, you have certainly grown much to my dismay, dearest daughter!” The patriarch of the Valasela family grabbed Christie by her cheeks, and Agatha, for some reason, couldn’t help but feel jealous. Quakes and faults! It’s her father! Control yourself, Agatha! “I dread the future, for time is slowly stealing my cute little daughter.”

  “This small daughter will end up taller than you, dearest father,” the redhead adopted an expression similar to the one she had when she teased her small girlfriend.

  “I can imagine it, but I certainly do not look forward to it!” He chuckled again, and Adrien finally jumped out of the top of the carriage with a grunt. “Adrien! How has the journey gone?”

  “Nice and hasty thanks to Christie’s friend,” the coachman tipped his beret.

  “Christina has a friend?” Christie’s father jumped almost as viscerally as Agatha when they were almost discovered kissing. “Is it that small girl I saw with the luggage?” Agatha almost felt as if the man was looking at her lithic eye as he said so, even if she had hidden her agate underneath the carriage.

  “Yes, she certainly is small,” her royal and loyal girlfriend giggled with a bit too much glee. “Agatha, can you come out?”

  Gingerly, the dirty-blond girl stepped in front of the carriage, not before recalling her spying agate. Just in case. She felt severely out of place. Not only was this a warm welcome of an expensive diligence on a massive estate, but the father and daughter in question wore far finer clothes than her poor and haphazard patchwork dress. Christie said that she loved it, but that love didn’t reach her as the petite girl stared into those cold and green eyes.

  The man had no idea of the actual relationship between her and his daughter, and he still looked at Agatha like a man refusing to surrender his beloved daughter to a low-life man in marriage.

  “I… uhm…” Agatha rubbed the hanging sapphire in her necklace as she slowly moved her head upward. “I am Agatha, er…, Christie’s best friend.” Yet again, the villager thought she had misplayed by saying ‘Christie’ instead of ‘Christina, but much like his daughter, the man didn’t seem to care.

  “Best friend? Diorite, ready a feast! My Christina has brought a friend home!” The patriarch shouted and the redhead shrank in shame.

  “Wait a minute,” a female voice said behind him, and at first Agatha thought that it was that Diorite he had mentioned, but then she stepped over him. “Agatha?”

  The one who spoke was a beautiful woman wearing a clearly borrowed uniform who boasted the most radiant of brass bangs and eyes of piercing blue sapphire.

  “Oh,” the petite girl blurted out in surprise.

  ““Do you know her?”” Both father and daughter questioned the different blonde women.

  ““Of course, she is my daughter/mother.”” They both responded at the same time.

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