Lucky Rabbit

The morning of the Open House dawned bright and clear. The break in the rain the day before had allowed the ground to dry out enough that the lords and ladies who descended upon the school were able to step off the stone paths and wander the grounds freely. Which made Pandy wonder who – besides her – was keeping the grass short, because she’d never seen anyone cutting it. Were there tiny, scythe-bearing elementals sneaking out to do horticultural maintenance every night?

The first-years’ potatoes were surprisingly popular, with parents and students coming from other classes to see them. The children presented various historical events and artistic achievements through, well, potatoes. Potato dioramas, recipes of potato dishes from the last few hundred years, art made with dye created from potatoes, or by cutting and stamping potatoes on canvas… Honestly, it was quite impressive, and poor Mr. Rowe looked exhausted but proud.

Parents trailed their children around through a shortened day, visiting each classroom or training area to see what the students were doing. Parents with multiple offspring split up, going from room to room throughout the day. It was surprisingly similar to events Pandy had been forced to attend when she was in school, including the glassy eyes and fixed smiles of many of the adults.

Lord and Lady Reedsley seemed genuinely interested in all of the little exhibitions the children put on. They exchanged amused glances over Thaniel’s spud-based diorama of Prince Noah sailing away to become the first and only royal pirate, and seemed genuinely impressed with the pictures Geraldine and Eleanor created using potato prints. Abbington made dehydrated potatoes by pulling all the water out of several of the root vegetables, and Isidor wrote five paragraphs about how similarly dried potatoes had been shipped across the country during a brief famine several decades earlier.

Lady Reedsley went to Etiquette with Eleanor and Geraldine, where the children hosted a tea party for the adults, while Lord Reedsley went with Abbington and Thaniel to see their carefully choreographed katas. Only one student managed to drop his sword, so it was a fairly successful display.

They all got back together to watch the children ride their horses slowly around the corral, then everyone got to go to the girls’ Art class to see their work, since Governance and Leadership didn’t have any kind of presentation. The Reedsleys exchanged a speaking glance when they heard Thaniel was taking the class, though, and Lord Reedsley grimaced slightly at whatever he remembered of his own experience.

It turned out that Abbington had been going to one of the greenhouses for special lessons while the other children were in Art or Governance. Thanks to his farming background, and the expectation that he would return to the Valley someday, he was learning to work with Brook to water fields and check soil moisture levels.

Isidor said he spent that period in the library, helping Professor Beeswick, and that was all they could get out of him. Pandy wondered how they’d gone this long without her realizing she had no idea where either of the two boys were for that period. And now she really, really wanted to know exactly what it was Isidor was ‘helping’ the dragon with.

Several Small Groups – mostly older students – put on presentations after lunch, and everyone could walk around and view them. A few third-year groups had worked together to put on a fairly complicated mock battle. Another group had created a short play about the war that broke up East and West Altheric, complete with students dressed as monstrous Dark elementals. The best part of this was when one embattled student’s little sister became so concerned that her sister would be ‘hurted by the monstews’ that she toddled out and attempted to protect the older girl.

After that were various events, which only the third, fourth, and fifth-year students participated in. This was the part Gacha Love focused on, with Kaden participating in a debate, Bastian making crepes, Edgar dressed up as a fortune teller reading cards, and Dorian – of course – entering an excessive number of competitions based on strength and combat skills.

Clara could visit any of them, or participate in the events herself, potentially winning a gacha spin to determine her prize. Doing something sports-related was the single best way to get early points with Dorian, but Pandy almost always did it anyway, because the top prize for winning was one hundred gold, which was incredibly useful so early in the game – though now that she thought about it, it did seem pretty unrealistic.

By early afternoon, the school was emptier than Pandy had ever seen it. Even the students who usually stayed at Falconet over the weekend had enough time to return home for the holiday, so it was only the Reedsleys, Thaniel, Eleanor, Abbington, and Isidor, as well as a few students who mostly stayed in their rooms. About half of the usual staff members stayed to clean up, but from what Pandy overheard, most of them planned to leave soon.

Not a single teacher remained once their rooms were set to rights, which led to Augustus asking if he could join the Reedsleys for dinner. The immediate answer was yes, of course, so two tables were shoved together, and everyone chatted lightly about the events of the day, until conversation naturally drifted to their plans for the rest of the week.

“I hear you’re taking the children to see some of the Grange displays tomorrow,” the chancellor said. “As it happens, I plan to do the same. Perhaps we’ll bump into each other.”

Lord and Lady Reedsley exchanged another one of those speaking looks, and Lady Alice said, “We thought we might go to Lanthorne Court and Amberlock. I have fond memories of Lanthorne Court from my time at Condor. There was one little stall where you could get delicious, flaky pastries, filled with chocolate. I’m hoping it might still be there.”

Augustus chuckled. “I believe I know the very stall, and yes, they were still there as of last year. But leave room for when you go to Amberlock, because they’ve begun selling food there, as well, using spices shipped in on the river. There’s one in particular I’m eager to try again – a roll filled with a soft, savory cheese and smoked fish.”

Lady Alice made a sound that indicated this wasn’t a combination that sounded appetizing to her, and the chancellor’s chuckle turned into a real laugh. “It’s delicious, I assure you,” he told her. “If you see them, try one, and let me know what you think. If you decide you don’t like it, I’ll pay you back.”

Now Lord Reedsley laughed as well. “Well, how can we refuse an offer like that? We’ll have to find these cheesy fish-buns.”

“But Augustus,” Lady Reedsley leaned forward, laying her fingers on the chancellor’s wrist, “if you’re going to the same places we are, won’t you join us? If you decide you don’t want to stay for the whole day, we won’t hold it against you. But it’s always more fun to attend a festival with someone.” She drew back, her cheeks growing pink. “Unless you already have someone to attend with? I’m terribly sorry if I implied-”

Augustus’s eyes slid to where Pandy sat beside Thaniel, well out from under the table for once, since there was no one else around to object to her presence or accidentally step on her fuzzy bunny-bits. One corner of his mouth hitched up, and he said, “The only person I’d be interested in going with is otherwise occupied, I’m afraid.”

Returning his gaze to Lady Alice, he added, “I’d be honored to go with you.” Then, sweeping a look around the table, Augustus asked, “Is this the first time any of you have attended the Fall Festival in Knightmere?”

All of the children nodded, except for Eleanor. “I went once, when I was little,” she said, and the three adults smiled indulgently to hear such a small girl speak as if that must have been a very long time ago. “My father… My father took me and my brother.”

As everyone focused on her, clearly interested, Pandy realized that the only person at the table who didn’t know Ellie was actually Princess Eleanor was Clara. Clara, who just continued prodding at her grilled asparagus as if it might leap up off the plate and attempt to force its way down her throat.

Such a long pause followed the princess’s statement that Pandy could see Lady Alice gathering herself to change the subject, but finally Eleanor managed to say, “He took us to the big church so we could pray, and then we went to see some Grange displays. There was a stuffed bear this big,” she held her arms out as far as they would go, “and Father bought it for me. One of the… the people with us had to carry it, and it looked so silly, because they’re always very serious.”

She giggled, and Pandy could just imagine one of the Knights of the Royal Eagle waddling along, carrying a bear as big as Augustus. Better yet, maybe the knight was doing their invisibility thing, and the bear looked like it was floating through the air, following the king and his two small children.

“We ate so much candy my brother almost threw up, and Mother got really mad, because she told Father not to let us have too much,” Eleanor went on. “But everything was so delicious, we couldn’t help it. And I got a costume for Guising Eve, but,” she swallowed hard, “then Father said we couldn’t go Guising after all, because something happened and he was really busy. He was busy a lot.”

Everyone had been smiling at the story, but at this those smiles slipped, and Lady Alice, who was sitting two seats away from the princess, impulsively reached around and squeezed the girl’s hand. “I’m so glad you got to see the Grange displays, Ellie. It sounds like you had a wonderful time.” Eleanor nodded, and the topic turned to the rest of the week.

“A few of the students from Kestrel are planning to go to the top of Celestine Point on the Day of Gratitude. Clara, I thought you might like to join them. It would give you a chance to spend some time with people your own age, and get a feeling for what it might be like to attend Kestrel,” Augustus said, smiling at the silent teen.

Clara looked up, her dark-lashed blue eyes blinking slowly as she focused on Augustus’s face. She seemed puzzled to find that he really was speaking to her, and everyone was waiting for her reply. “Oh,” she said faintly, cheeks turning pink, “I couldn’t. I wouldn’t have any idea what to say to them, and they certainly wouldn’t be interested in someone like me.”

Augustus smiled encouragingly, but Pandy didn’t miss the glance he shot at Captain Reedsley. The captain’s lips tightened ever so slightly, but he nodded. “You should go, Clara. Who knows, maybe you’ll make some new friends. Eventually, you will go to school here, and it would be good if you already knew a few people.”

Clara blinked again, processing this, then said, “I suppose I could, if you say so, Father.” And that was it. Pandy expected her to ask who the Kestrel students were, or why they’d decided to make a trip up Celestine Point, or maybe what Celestine Point was, since there was no way a girl who grew up in the country would know anything about a local landmark. She did none of these things, however, and Pandy could see Augustus’s brows draw together as he watched the girl turn her attention back to the rather ragged stalks of her asparagus.

As the discussion shifted to Guising Eve, and the younger children made a game of trying to get the Reedsleys to guess what their costumes might be, Augustus turned his head so he could look at Pandy. He flicked his eyes at Clara and raised his brows questioningly.

For the hundredth time, Pandy wished that rabbit shrugs weren’t an all or nothing thing, and lifted the front half of her body. She, too, had noticed that Clara had all the personality of a porcelain doll, but had no idea what to make of it. In Gacha Love, of course, the player selected Clara’s responses, but the options were all consistent, showing that Clara was kind, helpful, and innocent, but not stupid, especially on Kaden and Edgar’s paths.

At this point, Pandy was beginning to get a very bad feeling that something was wrong with the protagonist of Gacha Love, and, if so, it was probably Pandy’s fault.