Chapter Text
"Did you see the special edition on The Chief Justice by The Steambird yesterday?"
"Monsieur Neuvillette looked dashing at the Opera Epiclese a few days ago, didn't he? Oh he's just so-"
"I mean, Lady Furina surely must have at least even a little affection directed towards the Iudex in the long history of their partnership, right?"
Such were the rumors and idle chatter that filled the street of Fontaine's market. Even though Furina was still several paces away, she could hear the tone in their voices, could practically feel their salacious intent towards her dear Iudex.
The moment Furina stepped onto the street, the people silenced. As if trapped in a trance, the people stood by and watched her walk to a stall.
Furina hated it.
Sure, she loved the spotlight, but after being in it for 500 years, it's bound to get exhausting. Perhaps, she may yet decide to come back; but for now, all she wants to do is to step off the stage. Her grand performance had ended only a few weeks ago, after all.
Furina soon finished her shopping and turned to leave. As she did so, hushed whispers erupted all around her. Grimacing, she started walking at a fast pace to escape her situation. Even as she got farther and farther from the market, the whispers only seemed to get clearer and nearer.
"...the nerve of..."
"...showing up here? Disgusting."
"...family died cause of..."
The tinkling of wind chimes shakes her from her stupor. 'I'm home,' she realizes belatedly as echoes of relief goes through her and tears of frustration pool at the bottom of her eyes. Furina unceremoniously drops her grocery bags by the door and hurries to the bathroom, looking at herself in the semi-shattered mirror.
In her reflection, she sees Focalors.
She sees the guillotine, the blood, the slice. It haunts her even while awake. The tragedy of an opera she had the misfortune of being the lead actress of. The memories of being an oceanid that resurfaced when her divine self stood under the blade of Indemitium. Even the memories of being an existence trapped in a machine, endlessly meting out judgement after judgement on the people of Fontaine.
Truly, the life she's so far lived is a tragic one.
A loud knock from her front door causes her to jump, alert and guarded once again. "Coming!" She calls, her tears wiped and facade in place.
Furina opens the door to Sedene, the melusine in charge of the reception desk at the Palais Mermonia. “Sedene, what a pleasant surprise. What brings you to my humble abode?” She asks cheerfully, stepping aside so as to welcome Sedene into her home.
Sedene twinkles as she looks at Furina’s face, “Lady Furina! Oh you need not let me in. I’ve only come to deliver this Pour la Justice the Chief Justice asked me to.” She holds out a cake box that clearly displayed the exquisitely made cake (perhaps even specifically specially made for her if she dared hope).
A soft smile slowly spread its way onto her face as she held out her hand to take it, “Thank you, Sedene. Please also deliver my gratitude and appreciation to the Iudex.”
Sedene nods thrice in quick succession, “Of course, of course, Lady Furina.” She bows and takes her leave, leaving Furina alone on her doorstep, smiling wide like a love-struck maiden.
*~*~*~*~*
An office in the Palais Mermonia lays quiet, none daring to disturb the unusually eerie silence enveloping the place. On a normal day, one could hear the scratch of a quill on paper or the turning of pages, even sometimes the clicking of a typewriter, however, this time, the office is just as quiet as it is empty. For the first time in centuries the Chief Justice of Fontaine was not found in a place of business (e.g. Palais Mermonia, Opera Epiclese, Fortress of Meropide), but rather in an alleyway near a quaint apartment below the Palais.
The Chief Justice watched as Sedene hands her the Pour la Justice he specially commissioned a chef in Hotel Debord to prepare as a gift for her. He looks on, mesmerized by the way she smiles at the cake as if it’s the most precious thing she’s ever held. He daydreams of another world. A world where instead of presenting her with a cake, he presents her his crystalline heart. Would she still look at it with adoration? Or would she drop it and by extension, shatter it?
His last thought sends him into a gloomy mood, turning the once clear sky into a gray, cloud-filled one. At this, she goes back inside her home, leaving Neuvillette standing outside with no reason to. So he returns as well. He returns back to his mundane and peaceful life signing papers and reviewing cases in the Palais Mermonia.
He fondly recalls a time when not a day goes by without her dropping by his office. He remembers despite the hurt that comes along when he realizes that those days are long gone, never to be seen again. The hurt that comes along with the realization that he truly should have treasured her more when he had the opportunity to do so every single day for the past four centuries. The hurt that comes along with realizing that even though she had such a reaction to a gift from him, there’s simply no guarantee that she’d react the same way when it comes to himself due to the betrayal he’d committed against her.
The shameful and unfair trial that he’d put her through just to prove a point. The trial that revealed her humanity and subsequently triggered the beginning of the end prophecy. The prophecy that led to the destruction of the Hydro Archon, Focalors’, divine seat. The destruction that led to the floating blade of Indemitium following her every move as she performed the ending scene of her tragic opera, ensuring that she doesn’t escape her demise.