Although she wasn't sure what to say, Odette wanted to talk to Robin privately. They hadn't had a chance to talk alone since meeting, and Odette wondered if all the attention wasn't starting to take its toll on Robin. She certainly didn't want her niece to be uncomfortable in her new home.

Odette politely tapped on Robin's bedroom door.

"Robin? Are you there?"

After not hearing an answer for a few moments, Odette opened the door and walked in.

The room was empty and untouched.

Feeling her heart beating faster, quickly growing worried about Robin, Odette briskly crossed the room and went onto the balcony. Before she could panic, Odette found her.

There, leaning against the wall, napping as she soaked up some much needed sunlight, was Robin. Odette breathed a sigh of relief as she kneeled beside Robin and gently put her hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Robin?"

Slowly, Robin blinked herself awake. She looked confused as she looked over to Odette, who was smiling a little.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"It's been an eventful day," Robin replied. "I guess I was just worn out."

"Should I have left you alone? Did I disturb you?"

"Not at all. Actually, I did want to talk to you."

"Good. That's what I'm here for." Odette took a seat by Robin. "I was wondering if you weren't feeling uncomfortable with all this attention."

Robin shrugged. "It hasn't bothered me. Not yet, anyway. It's a nice break from being alone all the time, I suppose."

Odette nodded. "I was just worried. I don't want you to be scared off or anything."

Robin smiled. "I'm not going to get scared off."

"I'm glad for that, because I already like having you here."

"I liked being here."

"You must miss Gwen an awful lot, to have stayed so long in your old home."

"I also had nowhere else to go. Where can a fifteen-year-old girl go when she's been orphaned by some madman? Nowhere. But, to be honest, I didn't want to leave. I always thought that if I didn't stay, I would lose that sense of closeness that I had after my mother died."

"Do you think the same now?"

"I feel her with me always. I feel her guiding me. I think she wanted me to come here with you."

Odette had felt the same way about King William since he died. Because of his spirit, she never gave up hope. It was regrettable that she didn't realize until after he died that he knew what he was doing when he encouraged her to marry Derek, even after he had lost Gwen in much the same way. However, there was a difference: Odette had a choice. She was free to make her own decisions.

Gwen didn't have that luxury, so long as she kept on the road of royalty that she had so begrudgingly travelled for so long. So, sick of being told what to do and heading in a direction she didn't like, Gwen made her own way, and, judging by Robin's love for her, she had made the right decision for herself.

Even knowing all this, Odette wished Gwen had stayed. She supposed that it was a selfish wish, but love is a sometimes selfish emotion. She felt a huge sense of regret over not knowing her elder sister.

Strangely enough, as she thought of this, Odette could hear a voice in her mind.

"Watch over what is left of me."

Odette couldn't decide if it was only her imagination, or the voice of Gwen asking her to watch over Robin.

As crazy as it would sound to anyone who didn't understand, Odette chose to believe that Gwen wanted her to keep Robin safe, something that Odette would have done without a request.

"You know," Robin said, breaking her thoughts, "I didn't bring those journals so that they would collect dust like they've been doing for the past year." She smiled. "Shall we take a look?"

Odette grinned. "Let's."

Robin led the way back into her room. They were had almost reached the desk where one of the servants had placed the box full of journals when Robin stumbled.

Odette was startled a moment – Robin seemed to have tripped on nothing. It was like her leg suddenly gave out.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Robin replied, obviously not telling Odette something. "Just clumsy."

Odette knew better. She knew there was something wrong. Whether it was her own intuition or the way Robin looked sickly, even as she acted like she wasn't, Odette knew.

But she brushed it off, sensing Robin didn't want to talk about it.

"Let's bring these to the library," Odette suggested. "The lighting is better for reading."

Robin nodded, suddenly looking exhausted.

Odette carried the box to where she and Derek, both adamant readers, spent most of their time. Since they were children, nothing pleased them more on a quiet day that sitting down with a good book. It often gave them something to talk about.

Placing the box in a far corner of the library, Odette motioned for Robin, who was starting to look a bit pale, to sit down.

Odette took a seat and took one of the volumes from the top of the stack. She opened it and began to skim over it when she realized that she was the only one reading. She looked up at Robin, who was looking stiff and uncomfortable in her seat.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Odette asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," Robin insisted. "But I was thinking… I'm not sure that my mother wanted me to read her thoughts… That is, I don't think I'm ready… I'll let you go through them and see what you think."

Odette wondered why Robin was suddenly so reluctant to read the journals, but she didn't press for an answer. Instead, she gently set the book down and stood up.

"If you don't want to do this right now, you don't have to, and I'm not going to make you watch while I read through your mother's diaries."

Robin sighed. "It doesn't feel right that I should do it… but I'm certain that there's something in those diaries for you."

"If that's how you feel, then I'll do this later. What would you like to do?"

"Too be honest, I'm a little hungry."

Odette looked over at a nearby grandfather clock and smiled. "Alright then. Dinner should be served soon. Let's go."

XxX

It seemed a good meal was what Robin needed most at the moment. After dinner, she immediately looked better – if only a little – than she had the day before.

Odette was glad to see Robin was more talkative than she had been earlier, but she couldn't help but wonder why she was so quick to change her mind about reading the diaries.

"Maybe she feels like she would be intruding on her mother's thoughts," Derek suggested as he was changing. It had been a long day, and he, Odette, and Robin had all decided to go to bed early.

Odette, who was already in bed, wasn't so sure that was it. "I don't think so. It was as if she was afraid of something."

Derek slid in next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, as if the proximity would help him understand what she was thinking.

"Maybe… but afraid of what?"

"Well, have you ever read something that you didn't want to know? Like something terrible that happened to someone you loved."

Knowing that Derek, who hadn't suffered the loss of a love one – save for the temporary moments when he thought Odette had been taken from him – since his father died, (and even then, he couldn't possibly remember those days) probably wouldn't be able to relate to those feelings, she gave an example.

"If I had kept journals when I was with Rothbart, would you want to read them?"

He shook his head. "No. I don't think I could bear knowing what you were put through because of me."

"Because of you? Derek, do you blame yourself for what happened?"

"If I hadn't been so offensive that night, you wouldn't have left, and Rothbart wouldn't have captured you."

"I'm sure he would have found another way."

"All the same…"

"No, Derek," she said, adamant about her argument. "It's not 'all the same.' You can't go on beating yourself up for something that was bound to happen. I'm not going to say that I wasn't upset and disappointed in you, but I'm certainly not going to blame you for everything that happened that summer."

He sighed, but said nothing in response. He wasn't entirely blaming himself for what happened. In fact, he knew that Rothbart would be a problem sometime in his life, although he didn't know exactly how big of a problem the enchanter would turn out to be.

All this aside, he still felt that he could have at least saved Odette – and maybe even King William – some pain if he had not chased her off with his rudeness, however unintended it was.

To that day, he still could not believe how quickly the sky had darkened that day when a terrible storm blew through the kingdom, and he could not believe how terrible King William looked as he died.

Before he could work himself too far into depression, Odette spoke.

"I think Robin feels the same way you do. She doesn't want to know her mother's pain."

"And what pain might that be?" Derek asked, very interested in Odette's thoughts.

He wasn't the only one that had grown up. While Odette had always been an intelligent and kindhearted girl, she had become more attuned to people's feelings, making her very empathetic. Now that she was wiser, she knew how to use these traits to learn about the people around her.

And when she was in a pensive mood, Derek enjoyed hearing her thoughts. They always proved fascinating and insightful.

"Maybe it isn't pain," Odette said, amending her thoughts so that they would be a little more general. "Maybe she doesn't want to know why Gwen ran away. It doesn't matter, really. I just think that there are parts of Gwen's life that Robin doesn't think she's ready to know about quite yet, and I can't blame her. Look at me. I've spent two years after my father's death trying not to think about all the troubles he went through in life, and I didn't even have a clue as to what those troubles might have been."

Derek smiled. "You're brilliant, Odette."

XxX

Brilliant as she was, Odette couldn't sleep that night. With both Robin and Gwen on her mind, sleep just wouldn't come to her. Quietly, she got up and pulled a robe around her and left her room.

At first she had no idea where she was going. However, after a few minutes of wandering about the sleeping castle, she found herself heading to the library.

She sighed and headed over to the far end of the huge room where she put Gwen's journals.

She sat down, and, after going though the huge stack, she found the first volume.

Odette immediately found herself transfixed by her sister's life.

Since running away, Gwen found a job at a farm, where the farmer knew her face but, fortunately, could not remember where he had seen her. After living and working there for a few years, she ran into a soldier in King William's army. She promptly fell in love with him. They married when Odette was about three years old. And, two years later, Robin was born.

Their joy was short lived.

There was a short war between her father's kingdom and a neighboring land that was being run by nothing more than an overgrown group of ruffians and drunks. Of the few that died, Gwen's husband was, regrettably, one of them. Robin was about three months old.

It was interesting to see Gwen's thoughts on events regarding the family. She was well aware of everything that was going on with the family that she left behind.

"I now have a sister. She was born today, and, from what I hear, she looks like Mother, meaning she looks like me. But even with this great joy, I can't imagine what my father must be going through. Mother died while giving birth to Odette. Even as a child, I can remember how much he loved her. I hope, for Odette's sake, that he can pull through this quickly.

I've been thinking about going back to help him, but I just can't. I must stick with my decision to make my own way. And I don't know if my father's forgiven me yet. I think it would be best to give Odette her own start. Father will think the same, I'm sure. He's not good at talking about things that are painful, so I doubt that he will mention me. Unfortunately, this also means that he will not talk about Mother, which is a shame. Odette should know her as I did."

It made Odette feel good to know that Gwen didn't just forget about her family. She still cared, but she was just afraid to come back.

Still fascinated, Odette continued to read on into the night.