festival

The crowd continued to gather in front of the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Sky. Lanterns hung on the stone walls cast a golden glow on the faces of the faithful. In the distance, the first chants could be heard.

Arthur, hands in his pockets, observed the surroundings in silence. Beside him, Marie seemed fascinated by the atmosphere. Her eyes sparkled at the sight of street vendors taking advantage of the occasion to sell sweets and small candles.

"It's different, isn't it?" she said with a soft smile. "These streets are usually so empty…"

"And now they're full of pigeons." Marguerite gestured toward the crowd. "All here to give a little money and convince themselves they're good people."

Michael, still sulking after his romantic misadventure, sighed.

"You could at least enjoy the moment, Marguerite. It's not every day that Blackmoor comes alive like this."

Marguerite shrugged, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Maybe. But don't think it makes this city any less miserable."

Arthur interrupted them in a calm tone:

"Don't argue. We're here to have a good time. Moments like this are rare."

His words immediately quieted them.

As they approached the main square, children ran around laughing, playing simple games. The sound of bells suddenly rang out, marking the beginning of the ceremony.

Marie came to a sudden stop.

"Look! Over there, there's a stand with bread and pastries!"

"Free bread on Donation Day…" Arthur murmured, nodding. "Let's grab some. We haven't eaten since this morning."

They approached the stand. The baker, a plump woman with a warm smile, handed a still-warm bread roll to Marie.

"For you, sweetie. A gift from the Lady of the Sky."

Marie's eyes widened as she politely thanked her.

Marguerite, meanwhile, seized the opportunity to sneak an extra roll with practiced ease. Arthur caught her by the arm.

"Marguerite…" His voice was stern.

She gave him an innocent look.

"What? I'm just kidding."

But Arthur didn't seem convinced.

After nibbling on their meal, the family settled on the cathedral steps. From there, they could see the crowd gathering inside as the religious chants grew louder.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Marie whispered.

Arthur nodded slowly.

Marie glanced at him, curiosity in her eyes.

"Do you think prayers are really heard?" she asked softly.

Marguerite burst out laughing.

"Of course. The Lady of the Sky surely comes down every evening to save poor folks like us."

Michael gave her a disapproving look.

"You could at least respect other people's faith."

"Oh, come on. If the Lady really listened, we wouldn't be here nibbling on stale bread, would we?"

Arthur turned his head slightly toward her, his gaze settling on his sister.

"Maybe some people know how to provoke answers where others only hear silence."

Marguerite raised an eyebrow, surprised by the remark.

Suddenly, the crowd stirred. The grand doors of the cathedral opened, revealing a group of priests clad in white robes adorned with inverted crosses. Each held a small candle, the flickering light casting shadows across their faces.

Marie straightened up, captivated.

"Look! They're going to light the Great Celestial Lantern!"

The lantern, suspended atop a tall pillar, was said to carry the prayers of Blackmoor's inhabitants to the heavens.

"It's Mother's favorite part," Michael murmured.

A brief silence followed his words. The mention of their mother seemed to weigh on them. Arthur lowered his head slightly.

"She always said that when the lantern's flame burns bright, it's a sign that the Lady is watching over us."

Marie clasped her hands to her chest.

"Then I hope it shines brighter than ever tonight."

When the flame was lit, a warm glow spread through the night, illuminating the square. The townsfolk applauded, genuine smiles on their faces.

Arthur, however, stared at the light in silence.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Marie said again with a smile.

"Yes." His reply was simple, his gaze lost in the glow. But behind his calm eyes, a storm of thoughts raged.

Marguerite crossed her arms, glancing at Arthur.

"Thinking about something, big brother?"

Arthur turned to her, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Nothing important. Let's enjoy the moment."

As the night wore on, musicians gathered in the square. A soft, almost melancholic melody rose into the air.

Marie tugged at Arthur's sleeve.

"Come dance with me!"

Arthur shook his head, an amused smile on his face.

"Not really my thing."

"Pfft… Then Michael, dance with me!"

Michael hesitated, blushing slightly.

"Me? I… uh… okay."

They danced awkwardly, laughing together. Arthur watched them, allowing himself a rare moment of ease. In Marie's eyes, he saw a glimmer of happiness. If only she could always stay like this.

Marguerite settled beside him, watching the scene unfold.

"It's been a long time since we've been together like this, hasn't it?"

Arthur didn't answer immediately.

"Yes. Too long. I just wish Anne were here."

"Yeah… me too," Marguerite replied softly.

The music continued. Laughter and animated conversations filled the night.

The evening passed quickly. Little by little, people returned home, and the incomplete family did the same.

"Ah… We had fun today, didn't we?" Marie said with a wide smile, though her eyes betrayed slight fatigue.

"Yeah, it was great!" Marguerite replied, stretching. "We even got to eat properly. And not that awful tough bread we usually have. Honestly, it was a treat!"

"Come on, Marguerite! A young lady shouldn't speak like that," Michael scolded lightly, though a small smile crept onto his face. "But I'll admit, it was a nice change. Today really was a good day. Even if…" His voice trailed off. "Even if I lost Julie. Only Anne was missing. If she had been here, the day would have been perfect."

"Yeah… you're right. I miss her so much. I can't wait for Saturday," Marie murmured, lowering her head.

A heavy silence fell over them.

Then Marguerite's voice broke it.

"It's all because of this poverty." She clenched her fists, staring at the ground. "Anne has to work herself to death… And us? We just stand here, helpless."

Marie nodded.

"I've noticed she's becoming more and more frail."

Michael took a deep breath, trying to dispel the growing gloom.

"Hey, let's stop talking about sad things!" he said with an awkward smile. "We'll ruin the evening. I'm sure everything will get better soon. So, tell me… what's your biggest dream?"

A moment of silence.

Then, in unison, the twins replied:

"To escape this misery."

Their eyes met. Marie continued:

"Living like this… Not knowing if we'll eat tomorrow… It's no life at all."

Michael sighed. He had wanted to lighten the mood, but his question only deepened the somber atmosphere.

Until now silent, Arthur suddenly stopped. He lifted his head toward the sky.

"Dreams…" he murmured, his voice low yet clear enough to capture everyone's attention. "Dreams only come true if you act to achieve them."

"And what can we do?" Marguerite shot back. "Because of him… No one will give us a real chance. Every time a well-paid job comes up, people slam the door in our faces."

A chill ran through the group.

Him.

The mere mention of the man plunged the family into deep silence. Each gaze darkened. That father they despised. The man who had abandoned them without a second thought. Worse still, as if abandoning them wasn't enough, he had used his influence to shut every door, condemning them to misery.

No one wanted to speak of it. No one wanted to remember.

The silence stretched on.

Then Arthur slowly turned to them.

His eyes gleamed with determination.

"All of that will change," he declared calmly. "A day will come when we'll live like royalty."

Laughter broke the tension.

"Ha! You're funny, Arthur!" Michael said, thinking he was joking.

Marie and Marguerite laughed too, believing it a jest to lift the mood.

But no one noticed his gaze.

Cold. Resolute.

In his eyes, there was no trace of humor.

Only a chilling certainty.