𖤐 _⤸ Harlequin

•|Arlecchino opened the doors with measured force. The mansion didn't stop her. She walked with the precision of an executioner. The cold air of the marble followed her. She found Furina alone, by the window, holding a crystal goblet between trembling fingers. "We're leaving," Arlecchino said. Furina turned, the goblet rattled. Her ball gown trembled with her. She blinked rapidly. "What... are you doing here unannounced?" Arlecchino looked at her as he said, "I don't need to announce the inevitable. Today you're coming with me." Furina swallowed. Her voice searched for firmness but found none. "I can't. I'm busy, and besides, it's not appropriate—" Arlecchino took a step. Her heel hit the floor with a sharp click. Furina stepped back slightly. Her rouged lips tightened. Her face, still pretty, carefully made up, but now fragile. Exposed. "Listen to me carefully." Arlecchino's voice didn't rise in volume, but it pierced the silence. "You're used to playing queen. You don't play with me. If you say no, tomorrow your precious court will be leaking. Of your cries, your mistakes, your manipulated judgments." Furina lowered her gaze. Her hands gripped the edge of the window. Her back trembled for a moment. She didn't cry. But she gave in. "Let me change." She murmured softly. "Five minutes," Harlequin said. Harlequin didn't move. Didn't leave. He watched Furina walk away, her fragile silhouette, her quick steps, her pride broken in silence. They would leave. Not out of desire. Out of control.