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It was lovely to have all the Harbingers back in Snezhnaya at once, even if it was always destined to be only for a short time. The halls of the palace, the gardens, even the streets of the city on the occasions when Columbina wandered out, all of it felt emptier and more lonely when most of her fellow Harbingers were traveling. Certainly, she didn’t mind the absence of things like Pulcinella and Pantalone’s constant arguments. But even those had a way of making themselves charming when it had been a long time without.
Mostly, though, she was glad to have her girls back. Columbina still wasn’t quite certain what they were, hindered by the lack of open communication on the subject and the strangeness of their arrangement. Most people, all through her long life, thought of romantic relationships as an entanglement two people entered into together, devoted only to each other. What, then, was a grouping of four people who behaved outside the bounds of what most humans labeled as friendship? Sandrone would scoff and tell her she was being ridiculous if she voiced those thoughts, but honestly, Columbina wasn’t sure she was such an expert either. Neither of them were human.
She lounged on a low chaise, humming a song stuck in her head while gentle hands drew a brush through her hair. Sandrone’s. If she concentrated very hard, she could hear the working of her clockwork mechanisms. Rosalyne was doing her makeup at the mirror, and the two of them chatted, occasionally drawing Columbina into the gossip but mostly letting her drift in her own world.
The click of entering footsteps immediately piqued her attention when they came. She lifted her head, reflexively turning to face the new person entering Rosalyne’s suite. Arlecchino. Their group was complete. Columbina smiled, basking in the feeling of rightness for a few seconds, and thought nothing at all of saying exactly what was on her mind.
“You’re looking especially handsome today, Arlecchino. Maybe even a personal best.”
Abruptly, Columbina felt a sharp tug on her hair, hard enough that she felt it in her jaw. Almost before she could make a sound of dismay, she was already being excoriated.
“What the hell, Columbina?! What’s wrong with you? You can compliment her as soon as she walks in the room, but can’t say a word about how ravishing I am when I’m the one who’s been tending to you? You can’t even see, you liar!” Sandrone gave her hair another tug for good measure, but even in the midst of all her complaining, she went back to brushing it normally after that, like she couldn’t bear to put an end to the contact if she didn’t have to.
“Well, no, it’s not exactly seeing in the typical way, but the experience of sensing things with kuuvahki isn’t so different in terms of the information I receive. I have an impression of how everything looks. Enough for this.”
“Then it’s enough to call me beautiful too,” Sandrone insisted.
Arlecchino, undaunted by either Sandrone’s protesting or Rosalyne’s quiet laughter in the background, expressed her thanks as solemnly as she accepted her missions from the Tsaritsa. Then she approached the chaise that Columbina and Sandrone were perched on to give them each a kiss. Columbina reciprocated warmly. Sandrone with more attitude by the sound of it—she could hear Arlecchino hiss in a way that usually meant Sandrone had bitten her.
“Honestly, Sandrone,” Columbina said, deciding she’d rather smooth things over than bait her into a full-on argument. It was supposed to be a happy reunion, after all. “You don’t need to start biting. You know I think you’re incredibly beautiful too. And you’re very good at doing my hair, and creating a nice environment for me to nap in, and ensuring that we all spend as much time together as possible with your tea parties… You’re completely lovely. Me calling Arlecchino handsome doesn’t change that.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know how this stuff works. There’s no need for you to lecture me when you hardly know a thing about relationships. I just… need a certain amount of attention so I can feel appreciated.” She huffed, a sigh all the more dramatic for the fact that she didn’t need to breathe, and put the hairbrush aside. There wasn’t a single small snarl remaining in Columbina’s hair after her careful work, only long, glossy sheets.
Columbina shifted so that they were face to face, drawing her legs up to sit cross-legged on the chaise. In the periphery of her mind, she was aware that Arlecchino and Rosalyne were kissing over by the vanity, whispering to each other in tones too low for her to hear. Mimicking their quiet intimacy, she whispered to Sandrone, “Were you jealous? What do you need from me, hmm? It’d be a shame if you were grouchy all day.”
“I’m not grouchy. Ugh,” Sandrone groaned, leaning in closer to her with the motion. Her hands settled on Columbina’s shoulders, squeezing gently, but there were no more words forthcoming. Columbina would have to figure it out herself in that case.
“You’re super grouchy. But it’s okay, I like you like that.” She wrapped her arms around Sandrone in return, slow and careful, so that she was cupping the back of her neck. From there, it was easy as could be to close the rest of the distance and press a kiss to her lips.
She didn’t get bitten. Sandrone must have been feeling forgiving after all.