Chapter 4 Marrianne April 19th, 1866

Soft piano music spills into the moonlit car of the dusty train. Marrianne smiles softly as she finally finishes the cross stitch bluebird she's been hunching above for two trains. She's in the first class section of the train as always, riding along in the comfortable, stuffy portion. She glances across the car to where her mother is sleeping soundly, her now blonde-gray hair coiled into a braid. Marrianne's brothers are in the car behind her, cackling at something or another they found laughable; they haven't changed at all since Marrianne began her prolonged stay in Luxembourg. Earning a ring for her four years of courting Lord Wolf, it is finally time for Marrianne to return to what she used to call home, Anima. She never came in the winters, incessantly writing to her parents that she would, just not yet. She never mentioned Lord Wolf, not until he proposed to her back in February. Marrianne remembers the moment; down to every precise detail as she repeats the story to her younger sister, Callista.

"Tell me the point when he walked you down the docks," Callista puffs for her sister to continue the story.

"I'll get there, now where was I?" Marrianne begins, but she's cut off by the loud stopping of the train.

"I'll finish later, Cal, we've arrived!" Marrianne holds Cal's small hand as she accompanies her out of the train. With her muff in hand and hat on her head she inhales the crisp spring air that Anima never fails to bring, even in war or disease, the frost stays longer than you would expect in Anima.

"Look at the trees, they're pink!" Cal yells, galloping over to a cherry blossom to sniff and admire it. She dances about the trees, her head free of anxiety that Marrianne's brain tends to hold onto.

"Oh, darling, Anna, when was the last time you saw home?" Lady Cronies asks, wistfully walking down the blocks of the seaside Animan township of Rankor Hart.

"Well, mama, I believe it was fourteen years ago,"

"That long? My dear, you've missed much," an unknown voice interrupts the conversation. Both Marrianne and her mother turn around to see only Princess Marguerite of the Gjellu regions, the only of the northern royals who speaks with the southern Animans. Marrianne tilts her head to let the princess explain the happenings of Anima her family didn't fill her in on.

"I'm afraid the King has received a new suitor, a very fair thing, ten years younger than his majesty himself." Princess Marguerite continues.

"What is she called?" Lady Cronies asks, leaning in so she can hear the princess completely.

"Oh, but it's only stuff of rumors," Princess Marguerite says, waiting for the two of them to nod it off and tell her to stop talking. When that doesn't happen, she continues, "Well, I'm not one for gossip, but her name is Duchess Leoria of Rose, that's all I will say, well and her father might've planted her here for a convenient marriage." Princess Marguerite finishes with a smile, before she picks up her cane and struts away, her heels clacking along the clapboard sidewalk.

The two Lady Cronies are left in disbelief and shock as they shuffle through the crowded train station, making their way to a coach that is waiting for them. Once sat in the coach, Marrianne's mother touches her daughter's ear.

"I see they've pointed out," she says, running her pinky over the point at the tip of her ear.

"Well, I have sent you photographs, mama, and papa has the trait."

"There's nothing wrong with me hoping you wouldn't, it makes you look like an ice elf, and those are nothing but gossips."

"I believe that to be a myth spun by the weaver priests and pillagers."

"Whatever you say, darling daughter, just know that, before you marry, you can visit a shaver to get them.."

"Mama! I would never do such a thing, I enjoy my ears, they make me more like papa," Marrianne finishes the conversation, leaving her mother to dwell on her thoughts for the rest of the ride.

The Cronies were supposed to stay at the Duke and Duchess of Rankor Hart's mansion, but the Duke, a man of nine and sixty, fell ill narrowly close to the set time. Duchess May of Rankor Hart thought it best to cancel the arrival of the Cronies'.

Trampling through rough roads and over thick streams that might-as-well be rivers, the three carriages of the Cronies' finally arrived at the Rose house, where the rumored suitor of the King is said to reside.

"Lady Bethany Cronies, and Lord Cronies, oh and your daughter is engaged I hear!" the Duchess of Rose yells from the door when Marrianne's parents march into the house. Marrianne has scarcely met the woman in her life. Apparently, her and her mother grew up together, but the Duchess didn't have children 'till much later, in light of her father's many illnesses. Now her husband has the same number of illnesses too, a sad fate for the poor Duchess.

"Hello, Duchess." Marrianne introduces herself, dipping into a small curtsy before rising to enter into the narrow door of the house. Inconveniently, Marrianne decided to wear three petticoats today because of the weather. On top of her, quite large crinoline, she scarcely scooted through the very slim mahogany door.

"Oh, yes, Lady Marrianne, we rarely wear large skirts like yours in this house, even if they are pretty, I dare say they are quite impractical, but I'm sure in Europe they are all the rage among ladies." the Duchess smiles snootily, glaring at Marrianne.

"I quite enjoy large skirts, Duchess," Marrianne replies.

"Well, Anna, that's all good and fine, but I bet your governess wouldn't care for such vanity." The Duchess of Rose retorts, handing off her bonnet to a maid.

"I'd rather be vain than plain," Marrianne huffs, walking away from the Duchess.