A/n: Hi again. It's been a long time, I know. Thanks to TheDonutMistress and Ruainin Teilene, who reviewed the last chapter. Your comments, as always, are greatly appreciated.

No warnings precede this chapter; there's no profanity, nothing graphic, nothing even remotely offensive. Enjoy.


Zoah

Baffled:
Advice

Marcy found me out on the balcony where Luccia had used to keep her NeoFio. I like it there--the breeze seems to smell especially nice, and it's peaceful--and the others have figured that out by now. Even standing with my back to the manor, looking out over the water, I heard her come down the hall and open the door, and knew right away it was she: only Marcy treads with a young girl's carefree lightness...and slams a door open with Karsh's brand of loud authority. Once she emerged onto the balcony, she slowed, took a couple of shuffling steps toward me, and paused to drag her fingers through the pool, which is something she often does when she feels pensive. Then she walked the rest of the way across the balcony, and stood next to me. During all this I remained where I was, giving her the first move.

Characteristically, she wasted no time in taking it. "You're not wearing your helmet," she said.

"I know." I looked down, and briefly caught a glimpse of what looked like a ladybug on the top of her blonde head before she tilted her face up to meet my gaze, making sure I couldn't possibly miss it when she rolled her eyes derisively at me.

"Well, duh." Then she got quiet again, scuffing her shoe on the balcony. Finally, she blurted: "Like, what's going on?"

I knelt on the balcony beside her to better make eye contact with her. "What do you mean?" I had a good idea of what she was talking about, but I know that when someone seeks your advice it's usually best to let them tell you what the problem is, even if you are fairly certain you can guess ahead of them.

It was a good thing I did let her talk, because she threw a surprise into me. "Is Lady Riddel going to, like, marry that other Dario?"

I hesitated a second before finally admitting: "I don't know, Marcy. Why do you ask?"

"Well, Dario and Lady Riddel were, like, in love, right?" Marcy asked me earnestly. "They were going to be married and everything?"

"Ye-es." My hesitation dragged the word into two parts. Marcy often comes to me for advice, but I found myself wishing that this time she had chosen someone else. Even Karsh would have been better equipped to answer this, I felt. "But I don't know that they will decide to marry," I heard myself say.

"Well, why not?" Her brow wrinkled, her lips pursing into a thoughtful expression.

"They're different people now than they were when they agreed to marry. Sir Dario has lost a lot of his memories, and will be a long time in getting them back. There is a chance that he will never regain all of them." I glanced through the balcony rails at the water. "And Lady Riddel...has had years to grow into an understanding of life without him."

"But..." she paused, staring down. Scuffing her foot on the balcony floor again, she caught her toe on a loose pebble. She bent and picked it up. Rolling it around in her fingers, she closed it in her small fist like a talisman. "But..." she said a second time, and fell silent once more. Finally she opened her hand and looked at the pebble there. She studied it for many seconds before letting it fall from her fingers. "Couldn't they meet all over again?" she asked. "Just like they never knew each other or anything? Just—" her foot swept over the balcony floor in a swift, full-force kick, describing an arc. Her heel caught the pebble and sent it flying; I heard it ricochet off of one of the upright rails and whiz, skittering, back toward NeoFio's pool. It struck the pool's edge and came to rest with a soft report against my boot heel. "Restart?"

I blinked, taken a little aback; the "clean sweep" significance of her gesture wasn't lost on me, but I was surprised by her sudden violence, and wondered whether I had missed something. "Maybe," I said. "They've already begun to get reacquainted with each other, and since they used to have a lot in common, that's probably still at least a little true. Maybe, after getting to know each other as well as before, they'll eventually fall in love again, and marry after all." I glanced over to gauge her reaction, but she was staring down at the balcony floor with a neutral expression. I put a hand on her shoulder. "Is something about it bothering you, Marcy? Remember, Karsh is a friend of theirs, too—they all three grew up together. Just like us, Karsh wants the best for Lady Riddel, so he wouldn't let anything harm her."

"No, it's not that," she said, shaking her head. The ladybug, at last tested beyond endurance by this latest earthquake, took off for more stable pastures. Marcy appeared not to notice the insect, and I didn't bring it to her attention. She was absorbed in her private thoughts.

I waited.

She sighed. "Will it work? Will they be together again?" She locked gazes with me, her blue eyes sharp and appraising. "What do you really think, Zoah?"

It was my turn to stare at the balcony floor for a while, thinking. "I think Lady Riddel has been through a lot—so have we all," I said carefully. "Time, and only time, will tell. But I think that their time for love is over. They'll be friends again, of that I'm sure, but love..." I shook my head. "Years have a way of killing things like that."

She nodded. "Just wondered." Impulsively, she reached over and hugged me. "Thanks, Zoah," she said cheerfully. "I can always count on you to tell me what Karsh won't." Laughing, she skipped off, heading back down the hallway without waiting to see if I would take the bait. I heard her get into the elevator, and thence go down.

Accustomed to her games, I chose not to pursue her, but I did decide I would ask Karsh later on if she had approached him for information. For now, I couldn't help but wonder what she had really been asking. She was a little girl, so of course she had an interest in romance and all its attendant thrills. But that violent kick, sweeping away the gathered dust and leaves, bothered me still; I kept hearing that pebble ricochet off of the balcony upright, kept feeling it strike the back of my boot. That kind of behavior didn't match with questions about Lady Riddel's possible romantic future. Then there was the way she had hugged me before leaving, and tried to draw me into a game of "what Karsh said." Her attempt had been lame to say the least—usually she had much better ammunition than that. She must have been trying to take my mind off of something, and I bet myself that that sweeping kick was it. She had been using questions about Lady Riddel to probe into something else, something she was emotionally involved in, and somehow in her mind that kick had exposed her, revealing something.

But what?


A/n: What, indeed.