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Deuce

In truth, Deuce was just a civilian who noticed a criminal running from the palace guards, and decided to give chase himself! He finds himself at the tower right after you made a deal with Ace, and joins your adventures to make sure the redhead keeps his end of the deal (and maybe to steal and return the tiara to the palace, while he’s at it).

Because of this however, Deuce is much more welcoming about your discovery of the outside world. He’s just glad to see you happy and running around, and even accompanies you to the ‘boring’ part of the town; a library full of novels and history books!

“This place is a lot like my tower,” you’d explained to him, describing how over the years, you’ve painted the walls with murals and attempted no small amount of hobbies. “Oh, look at this page! Is this Corona’s traditional waltz?”

Hearing the wonder in your voice as you charted a map of nations across the sea on the side, Deuce thinks that it wouldn’t be so bad to dedicate a few years to travelling with you, even if he hopes to be a knight at the end. He lets you lead him in a waltz across the library tower, stepping lightly around novel to novel, each with maps and illustrations on its open page.

…And just as Deuce thinks he’s gotten the hang of it, his train of thought causes him to stumble and slip on one of the books! He topples, you land on him. And after a few seconds of silence… giggles bubble from your chest. 

…Maybe, staying in here a little longer wouldn’t be so bad, either. Even if he’s never been one for towers of words and dust.

Jack

The townschildren immediately took a liking to both you and Jack’s hair; the latter of which was tied into a long, fluffy ponytail, that looked incredibly pretty with flowers woven into them!

“Should I undo this for you?” You ask Jack, inspecting his now-semi braided strands. He shakes his head, gesturing towards the children who have retreated to play close to the fountain, but are still in sight.

“It’s fine. We'd better not upset them after all their hard work.” Jack answers, noticing the way you’re smiling. “...What?”

It’s just, “I never thought you’d be so good with kids! You felt like a dependable older brother.”

The afternoon wanes as Jack tells you a bit more about his siblings and you find a small meadow outside town’s walls. Sitting amidst it, next to Jack, almost makes you forget that you met at the Snuggly Duckling—which you probably wouldn’t have made it out of without him and Epel joining your party.

“Hey Jack, don’t you think that flowers look a little bit like the sun symbol on Corona's flag?” You hold up the flower crown you’d been weaving into the light. 

For a moment, Jack doesn’t answer—and you realize why when you turn around, only to see him pick a golden wildflower and tuck it behind your ear, since your hands were full.

“I think this one's colour is closer to what you meant.” He says, but Jack’s eyes don’t seem to be on the flower, exactly. What is this bubbly feeling in your stomach?

Epel

Having joined your group at the Snuggly Duckling (Epel’s family supplies apple-made products, and he’s always wanted to learn to be a cool mercenary), you’ve almost forgotten that Epel came from a quieter side of the kingdom with sprawling farms and fields for days. As such, he’s just as happy to explore the town as you are, buying a range of pastries from the local bakery and picking out souvenirs for his Meemaw once he finally makes the trip home.

“It’s a good thing my deliveries take a few days, anyway. And I was hurryin’ on the last vdelivery because I wanted to ask the mercs to teach— I mean, mentor me a little. But meeting you was lots more fun!” Epel smiles. He shares your wonder for the city, and even if some of your ignorance baffles him, Epel’s grown to admire your guts (the way you fought off city guards with a frying pan and zero fear).

…Well, almost zero fear. The closest you’ve felt to true helplessness was when your team was separated and trapped in a flooded cave—only for Epel to calm you down long enough for you to use your hair—and kept your secret until you chose to heal your friends’ scratches and bruises after the confrontation.

Meemaw told me stories about the sundrop flower. But we aren’t people that take more than we need from the earth; magic or not, it’s a plant like any other. And you’re a person! We can’t just steal your hair!

The fears you had about revealing your magic quickly melted away as you burst into laughter. From then on, you gained a little favouritism for Epel, who was always down for your daring shenanigans. This time, however, all you wanted was to learn how to carve apples like he did! And when your friends returned to admire your works, he was quick to swap apples with you, giving you a little shrug, saying he can make them anytime. “And even if it’s not exactly a long lasting souvenir… it’s a gift, for you.”

Sebek

A palace guard who’d tracked the five of you down after the Snuggly Duckling fiasco, Sebek is determined to keep an eye on you since you’re the one who’s hiding the stolen tiara. He starts off very standoffish and does not want to mingle, but eventually, after you’re left alone together in the town square… Sebek grows tired of something and asks if you’re done looking around the main area. He leads you to a store with kitchenware instead, where he asks you to pick out a new… frying pan?

“The one you have right now is too heavy, isn’t it?” He quips, trying not to show that he was concerned about the way you uncomfortably kept it inside your backpack. “You may be able to swing it around with relative ease, but when faced with proper villains, you won’t be able to lift it quickly enough.” Sebek finishes, moving forward to pick out the lighter pans in the store on your behalf. “...How about this?”

It’s not quite ‘picking out an outfit’ or new sword for a fellow knight… But you can tell that Sebek’s half-awkwardness comes from a place of care. Meaning, he’s warmed up to you, even if he doesn’t want to admit it! You accept his gift of a new weapon gladly, only to notice people gathering in the main square as musicians raise their instruments.

Before you can ask Sebek what it is, however, a firm grip suddenly pulls you behind the corner and blocks your mouth. You follow his line of sight to see royal guards patrolling by.

“Come on—let’s dance!”

“It’d be complicated if I’m spotted with all of you.” Sebek sighs.

Vil

It’s not often that you get to spend a quiet evening with Vil (or simply a quiet, extended amount of time at all, considering how busy the both of you are). So to summarise the sleepover as therapeutic wouldn’t be too far off.

Vil wastes no time in beginning an elaborate skincare routine, and the two of you watch movies while waiting for your face masks to dry. 

You even manage to convince Vil to try one of your favourite games. If it’s for two-players, you’ll quickly get engrossed and experience a bit of drama (just typical, childish arguments about how one of you keep falling off the platforms). If it’s a visual novel or otome type of thing, you finally have the chance to witness what Vil Schoenheit, real-life celebrity and crush of thousands, has to say about romancing a 2D fictional man who is pretty, by the game’s standards, and critique how the storyline goes. 

Spoiler: he thinks you just decided to torture him for your entertainment, specifically because you chose an otome where the male leads were all pigeons. 

In the case where you played a normal two-player game, Vil will ultimately try and fail to forget about it so that he doesn’t get addicted/distracted by the game in the next few days, but of course, you soon get asked when you’ll next be free to play. He needs to get the ending over with so that he can move on with his life.

Your main souvenir from the sleepover is a new phone wallpaper — which Vil swapped for you when you were still setting up the game on your laptop. It’s a selfie with the two of you together, a far-cry from the usual celebrity and prefect personas you wear in everyday life.

Azul

No one can fathom how you managed to convince Azul to do this. Even with the pretence of this being a study-sleepover, he was generally much too self conscious about how he’s presented to let people witness him unguarded — let alone sleepwear.

Azul’s stuck; he can’t wear anything too tight fitting or hugging his silhouette because he knows he’ll just be too busy stealing glances, checking to see your reaction and overthinking about whether it’s a good one or not. So, instead, Azul wears something baggier (very unlike him), which also covers all his skin.

His plan works pretty well, up until the point where you almost roll off the bed by accident, and while catching you, Azul realises - ears red and face following - that you were leaning your entire weight on him. And your hands are right on his abs.

It’s almost phantom-like how fast the two of you dart away, trying to salvage your dignities. You’re left flustered because his muscles felt unexpectedly defined, while Azul is considering if he should make a contract with you and try to confiscate your memories of the past minute.

The paper that you both were working on is submitted successfully the next day, but Professor Trein notices an embarrassing spelling error on your names.

Just what could’ve caused this kind of mistake anyways? Well… it may have to do with your innocent question of how your names would be written together if you had the same surname instead. 

Just yours ‘and Azul Ashengrotto’ together in one line, or separately as you ‘Ashengrotto and Azul Ashengrotto’? Wouldn’t that sound redundant?

Azul had quite enough of your questions after that, scribbling your names and shutting the folder like his life depended on it. He’d forgotten to include your surname, making it look like the former hypothetical above.

Charming Stranger (Pumpkin King, Gojo twst, etc)

For a second, you thought you’d woken up in yet another coffin like the one that brought you to Twisted Wonderland. But you were soon proven wrong as someone cleared their throat next to you, causing you to jump and hit your head against the coffin door in your alarm.

It’s more spacious than you realise, accommodating a man beside you without it feeling too crushed. But judging by the lack of panic on your part about how claustrophobic it is, you assume that this was some sort of odd dream.

An odd dream with a charming-looking stranger. Perhaps you wouldn’t want to wake up just yet.

The stranger welcomes you to his humble abode, mentioning that it’s the first time that anyone has entered here other than himself. That ought to make you quite special, seeing as he doesn’t even feel irritated by the lack of space. Are you perhaps a ghost seeking some warmth? He regrets to inform you that his vessel is equally as cold as the ‘bed’ around you.

He’s also quite enamoured by your nickname for him. ‘It makes it sound like we’re in a romantic tale~ If you do not mind dancing in a graveyard of wilted flowers, then I would be more than happy to share a never-ending waltz with you.’

You bat off his comments, saying you probably won’t meet again after this - only to be taken aback by his smile.

Confident, knowing, and stretched as wide as a jack-o-lantern’s mouth. For a second it finally hits you that he is a type of powerful being, and that if he wanted to, may gain a permanent hold on your soul.

Then, the alarm flees your veins as his expression relaxes, taking your hand to place a parting kiss on your knuckles. Until you meet again…

Like how most dreams evade memory, you’ve already forgotten about this encounter the next time you see this man. His eyes land on you within he crowd of students at the college, and seems delighted that you’re there.

Deuce

Deuce is well-meaning, but you’re warned by the other maids that he has a track record with delinquency. Cleaned up by the head butler when he entered the Rose Manor to work, but rumors are hard bugs to squash. 

And when you spot him speaking to some well-known thugs in town, well… You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. Deuce has only been welcoming and earnest with you, and now you’re wondering if he might have some ties to murderer.

Some kind of friend you are, huh? But at the end of the day, you’re an outsider who’s been hired precisely because your employer doesn’t know who they could trust. 

Your apprehensions have no time to take shape however, because one morning you notice that Deuce is wearing makeup to hide bruises on his knuckles and arms, and you’re overcome by the instinct to help him treat his injuries before suspecting him of anything else.

There’s no way he would hurt someone on purpose, right?

Jade

Prim and proper, Jade is someone who’s often by your side when you’re in need of assistance (as instructed by your employer), yet remains as one of the only people you cannot get a read on.

Just what is he thinking whenever he watches you scribble in your notebook, crossing out theories and names? Does he have something to add? Or might he actually be in cahoots with the murderer, keeping you away from the truth with his convenient position by your side?

As it seems with most things, it takes a serious incident to make the both of you open up. Jade rescues you from a poisoning attempt, but you don’t wake up in your usual room. Instead you’re in one of the empty studies, so that nosy witnesses during the dinner party can’t disturb your rest.

You don’t make sense, Jade tells you. But based on the way he’s calmly giving you another dose of medicine, he finds it fun rather than stressful. You’re glad. And now you know a tiny bit more about him.

He starts off the conversation by telling you he has a twin that works in a neighboring manor. But despite all the trouble Floyd gets into, Jade hasn’t felt as hopeless about a person than when you fainted last night.

Even with how weak you are in comparison to knights or trained assassins, you still fling yourself into mystery with a headstrong manner that makes his mouth quirk up in a smile.

Jamil

Shortly after that, you allow yourself to rely on Jamil for the investigation. He’s quite willing to help, and you can tell Jamil enjoys having something to puzzle out, demonstrating his own strengths and resourcefulness.

Early on, you realize Jamil is one of the only normal people here. In this noble household with its foreign etiquette and social expectations, you’re relieved that Jamil doesn’t expect such things from you, and even offers a space for something familiar to exist.

He brings you lunch once during your investigation of the gardens. And instead of sitting somewhere too exposed, Jamil leads you to a hidden corner with pleasant shading and a safe enclosure of hedges. It’s nice, and you speak casually to one-another. You discuss the town and best shops for food. You feel human again, rather than just ‘the detective’.

…But the more you notice these traits, the more aware you become that Jamil could easily be related to the murderer. The spark of someone forced to lie low in the shadows despite their brilliance can lead to drastic incidents.

But still, you want to believe in the Jamil who brought you out for a picnic because he noticed you’ve been feeling suffocated. You want to believe this friendship isn't a hoax.

Rook

Despite how you were intimidated by his extrovertedness at first, Rook has proven to be a genuinely friendly person and willing to help during your stay here. Which is more than you can say for the rest of the manor—which was nice and respectful, but see your job as a taboo. A ‘what if we get involved and become the next targets,’ type of thing.

You can’t blame them, but it makes you naturally get closer to Rook over the course of your job. You realize one day that despite how much you’ve told him, you barely know anything about Rook.

He’s quite mysterious, as one who sweeps the floors while whistling a tune, always with a smile on his lips as he tells you about how beautiful the building and gardens are. His physique is a bit too toned for someone who only does housework. You suspect he has some other role in the manor too, and wonder if it might be related to the mystery's culprit.

It doesn’t help that Rook seems very knowledgeable about hunting. He helps you figure out where the victim must’ve run and how long it took for the murderer to catch up with them. And sometimes, when you’re caught up in your thoughts and theorizing, Rook surprises you with his soundless steps.

Epel 

Epel has always done his best to assist you, despite how he’s only worked here for a year compared to the other maids. He seems to be trustworthy and willing to help, on top of proving he’s reliable.

You find out that before you came along, there were already groups of maids and other staff who tried to piece together the mystery themselves. But in doing so, created distrust between them and rivalries of suspicion. He thinks that the culprit is definitely a staff member, but can’t be sure of who.

You don’t think he’s directly related to the murderer, but there are times when Epel’s mouth purses during a conversation you’re having with another noble, and you feel like he isn’t telling you everything he knows. Maybe out of privacy or because it’s personal—but when both of you seem to be the targets of an attack, you can’t ignore it any longer and are forced to interrogate Epel.

Now that he’s been helping you with investigations however, there’s definitely a target of sorts on Epel’s back. A few of the maids are unhappy that he might be spreading false ideas to you in favor of one theory or another. And he’s too prideful to shrink under their demands, so they haven’t been on talking terms for a while.

You can only hope that he isn’t indeed a poisoned apple placed before you, unknowingly used by the murderer themself.

Lilia

Very knowledgeable about the hidden rooms around the manor, you can’t help but be a little wary about the clever glint in Lilia’s eyes. He’s explicitly been assigned to keep an eye on you for the sake of the manor’s secrets, and you can tell he isn’t trained to be a maid, despite how it's the pretense he’s using to stick to your side 24/7. 

You sometimes get distracted by the mystery of who Lilia himself might be. He speaks about knights familiarly, yet none of the ones at the manor seem to recognise him when you both pass by. He’s not very good at chores or cooking (to the point where you took over at some points out of concern for the upholstery and kitchen), so how is he still blending in with the other maids?!

Lilia’s saved your life twice now, and you slowly learn that he has weapons hidden beneath his maid dress. Also that he can scale rooftops and the town in less than a minute, but you don’t want to ponder on his scary amount of agility just yet.

Thankfully however, it seems that Lilia is only hired here on a contractual basis. His true, deep rooted loyalties aren’t close to this manor. Which means when the both of you find some very incriminating evidence, Lilia helps keep it a secret from your employer. The both of you are shouldering the weight of the mystery now, but Lilia promises he’ll keep you safe.

Malleus Draconia

It helps that as children, you never truly processed who Malleus was until a little later in your friendship. You were told he’s the son of the royal advisor, and so you prattled to him with questions of what the crown prince is like. He’d answer vaguely, sometimes saying that His Royal Highness has bad habits, and you’d nod along, hanging onto his every word.

Malleus soon realizes that you don’t care as much for ‘the prince’ as much as you did for him as your mysterious friend. You were both lonely noble-children, and you enjoyed sharing treats, flowers, and any new thing you could with Malleus. Once, he even tried on the trendiest dresses with you out of curiosity, and you lamented the fact that he could’ve made a beautiful girl.

No one would dare say that to him in any lifetime, other than you. Though to be fair, you didn’t know he was the prince yet. 

“Flowers look wonderful in your hair! Since it’s dark, they stand out.” You continue weaving yellow and blue blooms into Malleus’ locks. “...Hey, what do you think life would be like if we were regular children?”

“Not nobles, you mean?” He hums, helping you decorate your hair once you’re done with his. He casts an easy spell to dye your hair with highlights to match the dress. “I suppose we’d be towns-children frolicking without a care in the world.”

“We’d still be friends, right…?”

Malleus pauses at the anxious edge in your voice. Perhaps you were just as reliant on this comforting friendship as he was. He tells himself to hide his status for a little while longer. “Of course. Our parents would still be acquainted, and we’d still have playdates — only running through the roads rather than castle halls.”

It’s hard to find a real friend amongst noble children. Some cling to their families, others are picky or judgmental, and…

A lot are only friends for as long as the other is useful.

“We should have an outing in the city one day.” You smile, trying to fight away the heavy air. “I’m sure you’d like the marketplace. I’ve only seen it from inside a carriage, but it looks fun.”

Soon, the outing is arranged. However…

“Before we go, there’s something I need to tell you.” Malleus takes your hands in his, squeezing them as if to ground himself in the moment. Time passes quickly for the fae, but his heart is beating out of his chest at what your reaction might be.

…He ends up delaying this reveal until the end of your excursion. But the last thing he expects is for your eyes to well up with tears and for you to latch onto him in a hug.

“I’m… I’m so sorry—! If only I was more reliable, you wouldn’t have to keep this a secret, and…”

As you let out a hiccup and continue apologizing, Malleus’ confusion melts into a soft smile, hugging you back. 

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle’s mother didn’t know about your existence for a while, as you’d always sneak over to his window after she left the house. You claimed you knew how accomplished his family is, so you told Riddle you’d prepare for a better impression in the future! “That way, we can hang out normally or study together!”

Truth be told, the only studying you’re interested in is with practical magic — as another child with an affinity with magic, you’ve been going to the library often to read up on theories, experimenting with what spells you can do.

As worried as Riddle is for your safety (you’ve been doing all this without supervision), he’s also very curious about watching magic unfold from your own hands. You showed him a color changing spell once, surprising him by appearing with a different appearance — it was cute how he panicked, thinking you went ahead and dyed your entire head pink.

“And nothing hurts? No side effects?” He asked.

“Nope! And one day, we can both attend a magic school and do spells like these all the time!”

One day… Despite how he’s temporarily stuck at home still, adhering to his mother’s strict rules, he clings onto the hope that it’ll fruition in him becoming a great mage. Then, when that happens, he can be the one to wow you with magic you haven’t seen before. Just as you have all these months, visiting with the intention of cheering him up or encouraging him. 

On rare days, you manage to sneak Riddle out of the window for a quick visit to the park or library. There, with his heart thumping out of his chest, he’d marvel at the world you’re so familiar with already, and so willing to place into his unsteady palms.

“Can you read that?” You ask, pointing at a passage in a history book. While technically rebelling, you still chose a book on the same topic Riddle was meant to study at home.

“Yes, it’s…” As Riddle translates the scripture, he realizes you’re listening very intently. And all of a sudden, the closeness of your seats in the corner of the library makes him flush, realizing how you’ve always spoken to him kindly. Different from the playful tones you used at the start of your friendship, or currently do with the acquaintances he’s seen you greet along the way.

It’s been a while since he’s felt special, especially as the sentiment expired after years of his mother claiming he had a gift; that because he had the potential to be perfect, it'd come at a price of overwhelming pressure.

So why does your kind of ‘special’ feel like a balm? 

Jamil Viper

Between his busy schedule working for the Al-Asims, it’s all Jamil can do to relax in the solitude of his own room… that is, until you’re temporarily displaced from your own, and have been allocated to bunk with Jamil since he’s ‘very capable’ and close to your age. Another bed is moved in. There’s still space, but Jamil dislikes having his privacy encroached upon.

The two of you never interacted before this, but he’s seen you around the mansion before doing chores and learning from the head servants. You aren’t too chatty, Jamil thinks, until you finally break it to him after the night of a banquet (the both of you too tired to keep up appearances, slumped on your respective beds), that he frowns a lot. And that’s why you haven’t spoken to him much until now.

Jamil blinks once, then twice. “I do?” He’s always been good at controlling his facial expressions—

“Yeah, when you think people aren’t looking.” You raise a finger in the air. “Especially when the meals aren’t to your liking, you tend to look around with judgmental eyes.”

“So you watch me when we’re at work.”

“Only because you never looked like you wanted to talk.” It’s not accusatory, merely an observation from you. With a sigh, Jamil falls on his back against the mattress. “Did you see the performers at the banquet?”

“The dancers were great. I saw them practicing in the morning before the event.” Jamil answers. It’s the first time you’re having a proper conversation, and while he’s not as chatty as Kalim (who he’s normally assigned to watch), you feel at ease. 

“I remember them! The kitchen was handing out meals to the staff, and I was one of the delivery people.”

“Did you help cook too? There wasn’t enough salt in the curry.”

“You—! Then come and help us yourself!”

“Too much work.” Jamil pushes himself up on his elbows just to stick his tongue out at you, before turning to lay on his side. “We should rest. Tomorrow the guests are leaving, so the suites have to be cleaned.”

Even after you move back to your room, you spend time with Jamil, running off to the market after visiting family, and watching street performers and food vendors go about their day. On rare occasions, you knock on his window when you have a bad dream, and Jamil groggily holds up a conversation until you’ve calmed down. The stars are especially twinkly on those nights, as if they’re another witness to the friendship you shared beneath busy days and tall adults.

“Do you think we’d make good adults, Jamil?”

“Not many adults are good at it either. So we’ll be fine.”

“Well… That’s true. Goodnight, Jamil.”

“...Goodnight. Sleep tight.”

Vil Schoenheit 

When you first met Vil as kids, you were intimidated by him not because he acted in evil roles, but because he had the aura of an adult.

“It’s weird… you look my age, but walk and talk like a grown-up.”

“Hm, I guess that’s not too bad of an impression. …What’s your name?”

You were next-door neighbors, and suffice to say your interests lied more in pop-culture as an audience rather than as an artist on-stage. It’s a world away from Vil who’s a child-actor and upcoming model, but when he’s not pursuing such work, he’s still just a boy.

…A boy who you were very surprised to see act his age, when he was with his father or smiled as he told you about the movies they starred in. You’d always listen, realizing that while Vil was always pretty, he’s even more eye-catching when he’s rambling about something he’s passionate about. It almost makes you want to grow up quickly too and pursue your own dreams.

No one would see this side of him outside the comfort of your homes, though. Vil has an image to uphold (at least, you’re quite sure he’s trying to craft a persona for the camera, considering how he asks you what you think an actor’s personality should be like), so you try and cover for him when strangers ask about Vil. Giving just enough praise without revealing too much, since they might be reporters:

“He’s really hard-working and nice to others! Vil even explains his work to me if I ask. You can tell he really loves acting.”

“Oh? You sound like you admire him a lot.”

“Well… lots of people do. Once you meet him, you’ll realize he’s like a diamond!”

Word of your comments gets to Vil, and he seems to be in a good mood, explaining to you that it sounds like something a fan would say. “...One day, I’ll have as many fans as my dad does.”

It becomes routine for Vil to knock on your door whenever he gets a new script. He likes having you watch him rehearse and give him your thoughts, amongst other things like discussing the story and causing the both of you to become invested in the plot. 

You’re sworn to secrecy, of course, since you can’t leak the movie’s details. And after you’re a bit older, Vil instead makes it a game to read random lines to you, then asking you to make up the rest of the story (it’s a good improv session, even if your conversations devolve into ridiculous scenarios.)

You got each other parting gifts after you were accepted into different colleges; Vil’s to you is a ‘poisoned flower’, which is to say, an artificial flower scented to help you sleep. It’s so you can get proper rest instead of scrolling on your phone, Vil claims. And of course, you’re added into his personal Magicam to get life updates — even now, when asked who you were texting with a smile on your face, you keep Vil’s secret and claim it’s just a childhood friend: 

“He’s in Night Raven College.”

“Oh, the same one Vil Schoenheit is in?”