London, England
March 2017

Just what you want to be

Amy groans pitifully and drops her head in her hands. "Will it ever stop?" she asks, voice muffled.

We've met at Buckingham Palace to take care of the seating chart for her wedding breakfast (which is really more of a lunch, given that it's scheduled for early afternoon, but I know better than to question weird royal terminology by now), with Persis and me being present at specific request of Teddy.

He himself is away on some royal thing in Durham today, but has otherwise been much more involved in wedding planning recently. I had a quiet word with him about supporting Amy back in January and Persis resorted to blatant bullying for a while, but I think what really did the trick was an honest conversation between Amy and him that had her tell him about her struggles. Apparently, he had been so caught up in his Perfect Fairytale Romance Dream that he truly hadn't realised how unsupported she felt and was truly stricken when she told him. He's been trying to make up for it ever since though, pulling his weight even with the wedding planning that, in all seriousness, still mostly baffles him. It's done wonders for Amy and her well-being, but today has been a long day and we're all feeling it.

"Welcome to your new life," Persis deadpans and passes yet another biscuit to her sister-in-law-to-be.

I extend an arm to give Amy's shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. "Don't listen to Persis. Your new life won't consist of planning big events all the time. You might be attending them, but the planning is usually done by others."

Raising her head again, Amy looks at me, her expression veering between exhaustion and hopefulness. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I am," I assure her. "You're a bride planning your wedding and that's a huge, stressful thing, just like it is for all brides all over the world. You're really not so very different from other brides, just that your wedding is a little bit…"

"Bigger," supplies Persis when I trail off.

"Much bigger!" insists Amy with a despondent look at the large sheet of paper spread out on the floor in front of us. Printed on it is the layout of tables for the wedding breakfast and it's littered with little snippets of papers that have the names of all wedding guests written on them.

Persis drops on her knees in front of the large sheet and pokes at some of the paper snippets. "There'll certainly be a lot of people," she acknowledges.

Following our conversation in January, Teddy and Amy decided not to turn their wedding into a state event and struck all foreign royals and dignitaries from the guest list. I think some people in the royal household were a little peeved at that, but since Owen and Leslie backed the couple up completely, there was little anyone else could do. It resulted in a much reduced guest list, but it's still long enough and finding the perfect spot for everyone to sit in is proving to be quite the challenge.

"What do we do with the Baron Vavasour of Haselwood?" Persis asks and waves a paper slip in the air.

"Put him next to Lady Ochterlony of Pitforthy," I decide. "We had her next to Baron Ferguson of The Farm, but he can also sit with Lady Dalgliesh of Erroll Park, Mayfield, Woodburne and Baltilly and Coulin. That, in turn, frees up Baron Nicolson of Cockburnspath to escort Lady Griffies-Williams of Llwyny Wormwood."

"Of what?" interjects Amy, looking confused and vaguely irritated by the oddness that are British baronetcy titles.

"Llwyny Wormwood," I repeat with a smile. "It's Welsh, or at least the English name for a Welsh estate. The actual Welsh name is spelled L-L-W-Y-N-Y-W-E-R-M-W-D."

Persis raises an eyebrow and give me a doubtful look from her place on the floor. "And you know that… how?"

"Ken owns it," I reply coolly. "Or, the Duchy of Cornwall does. It's run as a business when he's not there and I checked last year's numbers for Ken." In fact, I went through most of the annual reports of the Duchy's business endeavours and I must admit it was surprisingly educational. It also made me realise that I did learn something during my studies after all and that was a satisfying feeling.

Shrugging, Persis places the snippet with the name of Lady Griffies-Williams of Llwyny Wormwood on the assigned place. "Well, the more you know…"

Amy, meanwhile, stares down at the guest list in her hand with a sigh. "Not only do I not know these people, I can't even pronounce their names."

"They'll understand," I try to comfort her. "Welsh is an unusual language and no-one expects you to speak it."

"No, it's Rilla who'll need to learn to speak Welsh," Persis declares cheerfully and grins at me.

In response, I just roll my eyes at her. I know Ken speaks some Welsh and I've made him teach me a few words for the fun of it, but we're here to plan Amy's wedding, not my future, so Persis should know better than to drop hints.

She's already moved on, though, gleefully announcing to a dumbstruck Amy, "You, on the other hand, will have to eat Kendal Mint Cakes and pretend to like them for the rest of your life, so I don't know whether you're truly in a preferable position."

"Kendal… Mint… Cakes?" stutters Amy.

"A peppermint confection eaten by lots of famous adventurers," Persis explains. "Hillary had it with him when he climbed Mount Everest and Shackleton did when he didn't cross the Antarctic. More pertinent to you, however, Teddy got it into his head that because he's Duke of Kendal, he occasionally has to be seen eating Kendal Mint Cake in support of 'his' town."

Amy just blinks at her.

"Never mind her, Amy," I placate Amy, while also giving Persis a look. (She just grins.) "Let's just get focused on getting the seating plan ready and not worry about speaking Welsh or eating mint cakes for now, alright?"

"Alright," Amy agrees, but her smile turns into a grimace within seconds. "I have to hurry anyway. I still have an essay to finish for one of my courses before Monday."

That piques Persis's interests and she looks up from the paper slip she's been studying. "I still don't get why you're doing this to yourself. The double burden of planning a wedding and finishing your studies must be so time-consuming. No wonder you're exhausted!"

"I am," admits Amy. "To be honest, I was totally ready to drop out of university, but for some reason, Teddy was adamant that I should to graduate."

Hmm… looks like someone took my advice to heart…

"Would you rather have dropped out?" I ask, keeping my face carefully neutral.

Amy purses her lips as she considers my question. "It would certainly have been less work, but at the same time… I've found that I enjoy going to university. It's weird because everyone stares at me, but it's also… normal."

"And not much else in your life is normal right now," I add sympathetically.

"You can say that again," she replies with a wry smile.

Persis, whose life has never been normal in the first place, looks a little bored with our exchange, and out of the corner of my eye, I spy her poking at some of the paper snippets. "Persis!" I warn, because I wouldn't put it past her to swap around people just to cause some mischief for her own amusement.

She smiles sheepishly and quickly pushes two names back in what I assume are their proper spots. Amy, luckily, didn't notice any ongoing mischief and before she can ask what's the matter, there's a loud knock on the door, drawing our shared attention.

"Yes?" I call out.

The door opens to reveal a man called Pinkham. He's the assistant to one Dame Eileen Brinkley who in turn is the Comptroller of the Lord Chamberlain's Office, which is the palace department concerned with organising major royal events. We've seen a lot of both Pinkham and Dame Eileen recently, seeing as a royal wedding definitely counts as a 'major event', though at the moment, they're pretty busy with the formal dinner planned for tonight, which explains us slaving over the seating arrangements on our own.

"Mr Pinkham," I greet him when no-one else says anything. "How can we help you?"

"There's a problem with tonight's dinner," he discloses, not beating around the bush. "I would have taken it to Her Majesty, but I've been informed that she is resting right now."

That's true. Leslie has been down to help us earlier but left to lie down about an hour ago.

"What kind of problem?" Persis wants to know, peering up at Pinkham.

If Pinkham thinks it's in any way unusual to come in and find the third in line to the throne sitting cross-legged on the floor, his face doesn't betray it. Instead, he answers matter-of-factly, "It appears there has been a miscalculation with regards to how much caviar to order and now there isn't enough to prepare starters for everyone."

"Is there still time to get more?" I ask, my brain already jumping into problem-solving mode.

"Regrettably, no." Pinkham shakes his head. "We can't be sure that anything we get now would be up to our standards and wouldn't want to serve subpar caviar."

"That would never do," Persis mutters sarcastically under her breath.

Pinkham doesn't react to her. He keeps his eyes trained on me, waiting for me to do something about the problem at hand.

If, however, I've learned one thing in my years of party planning, it's that decisions are best made by those who are truly experts in their fields. Thus, I enquire, "Does Cook have an alternative suggestion?"

"Indeed she does," confirms Pinkham. "She suggested making a small caviar starter for everyone and serving an additional King Prawn starter to accompany it."

"Well, then." I briefly look at Persis and Amy to see if they have any objections, but Persis is back to being bored and Amy just smiles vaguely when our eyes meet. Turning back to Pinkham, I tell him, "Then that's what we will do. Will you inform Cook?"

"It will be my pleasure, Miss," he replies, already taking a step backwards. Nodding at both Persis and Amy with a respectful "Your Royal Highness, Miss Summerfield" he withdraws and quietly closes the door behind himself, quite as if he'd never been inside at all.

I lean back in my chair. "If only all problems could be solved so easily…"

"The staff is certainly happy that you're there to solve them," Persis points out casually.

Looking at her, I raise a quizzical eyebrow.

She shrugs. "It's apparent, isn't it? I mean, strictly speaking, I outrank you both and as Teddy's fiancée, Amy outranks you as well. Normally, Pinkham is all about rank and hierarchy, yet when he came in here, he didn't mean to ask Amy or me to make a decision, he came to ask you."

"He just wanted –" I begin to protest.

Persis shakes her head, cutting me off. "You might not have the title yet, but they already treat you like a Princess of Wales. You can dispute it all you want, but it's still a fact."

I would like to dispute it, if only out of principle, but when I open my mouth, I find I have nothing to say except for "Whatever, Pers."

"The ultimate passive-aggressive response for when someone doesn't have anything else to say," Persis states slyly.

Amy laughs. I roll my eyes at them both.

"Let's get back to work, you two," I prompt them, nodding at the half-finished seating plan next to Persis.

We do just that, making quite good progress in the next hour or two until Amy has to wrap it up for the day so she can spend the evening focusing on her essay. We all share a car over to KP where our paths separate, with Amy heading for Nott Cott and Persis for Ivy Cottage. As for me, I know it's still too early for Ken to be back, so instead of heading immediately to Wren House, I make my way to the offices of Ken's staff.

As usual during working hours, the door is unlocked, so I let myself into the building and pass through the hallway to where the offices are.

"Hello," I call out. "Is anyone in?"

Before one of the humans can react, Lottie comes trotting into the hall, her tail wagging slightly when she sees me. She's dragging her favourite plush toy, which she got as a birthday present from Dev and Josh. (After celebrating George's Unbirthday for years, the pair of them were positively delighted to learn that this pet, at least, comes with a definite birth date attached.) It's a pink giraffe with purple spots, it's nearly as big as Lottie (and she's no small dog!) and it's positively hideous. Ken took a deep breath when he first saw it, but Lottie loves it and drags it anywhere possible, so getting rid of it is completely out of the question.

"Hey there, girl," I greet Lottie, crouching down so I'm level with her – and the giraffe. "How has your day been?"

She looks at me with intelligent eyes and inclines her head slightly, as if to say 'You know how my day was since it was you who brought me here earlier, so you know I spent it here at the office. Nothing exciting happened, but overall it was alright, thank you for asking.'

With a smile I reach out a hand to scratch her ears. "You're right, it was a foolish question." Straightening, I look at the hallway behind her. "Where have you left George?"

Lottie blinks at me and inclines her head even further. 'He's not here and you know he isn't,' her eyes seem to say. 'It was a boring afternoon and while I always have to stay where the humans are, he can go off to explore on his own.'

"He's over at the old palace, isn't he?" I ask, pointing a thumb in direction of the part of Kensington Palace that is open to the public. Lottie's gaze follows to where I'm pointing, which I take to be confirmation.

George, with typical arrogance, included the old palace in his territory within days of first exploring the palace complex and no-one has been able to persuade him otherwise since. The tourists love him and while the museum staff is usually amused by his antics as well, I know they would like him to be more well-behaved sometimes. Right now, he and they are locked in a battle of wills wherein he tries his best to sneak into the Queen's Bedroom to nap on the royal bed and they try to stop him to protect what is really a priceless historical object. I tried explaining to him that the bed was where the son of James II was born, but since said son never became king, George remained thoroughly unimpressed and decided he wouldn't be swayed from frequenting his new favourite napping space.

Putting a hand on Lottie's head, I enquire, "Shall we see who else is in?"

"We are," comes the answer and I spot Melissa and Charlotte who apparently just entered the hall from their respective offices.

"Who went with him today?" I want to know, meaning Ken.

"Oliver did, of course, and Andrew," Melissa replies, ticking off the people on the fingers of her left hand. "Arlene is wrangling the press herself today and Felix is doing… well, whatever it is that he does."

She grins and I can't help smiling. Felix is Ken's aid-de-camp and both his position and his actual tasks are a bit of a running joke in the office. Since he mostly gets trotted out for military events, it's a little vague what he does when Ken is occupied with civilian duties. I'm sure he keeps plenty busy, but ever since Emmett started the discussion of 'What does Felix do all day?', it's become an inside joke around the office. (Felix himself, thankfully, takes it with a lot of equanimity.)

"Emmett is out to prepare Tuesday's events," Charlotte pipes up, her thoughts clearly having followed mine. "Roisin is in though. She's just finishing a phone call."

"I'm all done!" calls out Roisin from her office and moments later, her head pops through the door. "And I'm so ready for a break!"

"I like the way you think," Melissa states and waves us into the office she shares with Andrew. We all find a spot to sit – Melissa in her chair and Charlotte in Andrew's, me on the windowsill with Lottie and her giraffe at my feet and Roisin on the floor in a position not dissimilar to Persis's earlier today – before Melissa opens the very lowest drawer of her desk and peers inside.

"Let's see. We have… Wine Gums, Curly Wurlys, Jelly Babies, Black Jacks, Fruit Pastilles, Crème Eggs… and there's still a lonesome Chocolate Orange left." As she speaks, she holds aloft the bags and packages of the sweets she's listing.

Charlotte raises a hand. "Jelly Babies for me, please."

"And I'll have a Crème Egg," decides Roisin.

Melissa tosses them the sweet of her choice. "Do you want the Chocolate Orange, Rilla?" she asks me and when I nod, she rolls it over the desk towards me before tearing away the paper around a roll of Black Jacks for herself.

The lowest drawer, I must explain, is always well-stocked with sweets of all kinds. There's also a stash of female hygiene products that no doubt come in handy once in a while and also have the advantage of ensuring that the men keep their hands away from said drawer. (Seriously, the way most men avoid a box of Tampax, you'd think it gives them the plague!) The drawer was a thing long before I was shown it, but ever since I learned about it, I make sure to do my part by helping to keep it well-stocked. In turn, Melissa and the others readily share its contents with me.

They've also come to share their lives equally readily, even if it took a while longer. (Though not as long as I had to work for them to drop the 'Miss' and finally start calling me 'Rilla' – and even that, they only do when we're in private and there's none of their superiors around to hear it.) There's an unspoken agreement that I will never talk about Ken's and my relationship save for bland, harmless little platitudes, but I can be more open about the parts of my life that are just my own and they're repaying my trust in them by opening up about themselves and their own lives.

Today, after weighing the pros and cons of Roisin attending the birthday party of her new boyfriend's mum (which ended in the conclusion that despite the relationship being only a few weeks old, it couldn't hurt to attend the birthday), the following discussion centres on the guy Charlotte's cousin is currently dating and of whom Charlotte herself is deeply suspicious.

"He's just so… ugh!" she complains and glares at one of the Jelly Babies as if it were a voodoo doll of her cousin's boyfriend.

"Very eloquent," Melissa teases her and Charlotte's disdainful look moves from the unfortunate Jelly Baby to her colleague. Melissa just smiles and pops Black Jack into her mouth.

"Stop glaring, Charly," Roisin intervenes, laughing. "'Ugh' isn't a very telling assessment."

I chew thoughtfully on a slice of Chocolate Orange before remarking, "Isn't it, though? Tell me that when she said 'ugh', you didn't immediately have a mental image of him and his faults." I look from one the other and raise both eyebrows. Below me, Lottie scrambles to her feet, pick up the giraffe and trots from the room.

"It did tell me he was an idiot," admits Melissa after a moment of deliberation.

"And a chauvinist," adds Roisin. "Also, possibly, self-centred and arrogant."

Charlotte nods her head vehemently. "All of the above!"

"A whining, self-indulged man-child?" I supply innocently.

Laughing, Charlotte gives me a thumbs-up to confirm.

"Do I want to know who you're talking about?" asks a voice from the door and I turn my head to smile lazily at Ken. Lottie, I notice, is with him, leaning against his legs and looking up at him adoringly, her giraffe sitting in front of her.

The effect his presence has on the other three is quite more pronounced. Roison scrambles up from the floor, Charlotte pulls her feet from Andrew's desk and Melissa sits up straighter while giving the lowest drawer a discreet kick to make it slide shut.

"Good evening, Sir," Roisin greets him around a mouthful of Crème Egg that she frantically tries to swallow down.

"Good evening, everyone," he responds calmly. "And please, stay seated. I didn't want to interrupt anything. I was just curious about the identity of said man-child you were discussing."

He looks at me, an amused twinkle in his eye, and I grin at him. "Wouldn't you love to know?"

Ken laughs. "You're right, I would." But it's just banter and we both know it. I would never speak about him like that to anyone, nor would I discuss his life with his employees (and they wouldn't want me to, on account of it making things awkward) and he's perfectly aware of that.

Hopping from the windowsill, I offer him a quick kiss and a slice of Chocolate Orange before re-wrapping the rest of it and tossing it to Melissa. Taking a bite of chocolate, Ken turns to Charlotte and asks, "Is there anything else to take care of for today?"

"No, it's all done," she replies with a smile.

"Excellent." Ken pats Lottie's head and offers me a hand to take, while picking up the pink giraffe with the other one. "I'll call it a day then and you should go home so, too. Or do you still have matters of grave importance to discuss with Rilla?"

"Nothing that can't wait until another day," Roisin answers gamely.

I slip my hand into Ken's while licking the last smudges of chocolate from the fingers of my other hand. "Good night, everyone. We'll talk more about the man-child tomorrow." The last sentence, I accompany with a wink, making them laugh.

With Lottie following on our heels, Ken and I take our leave and stroll over to Wren House.

"How was your day?" he asks me, lightly squeezing my hand.

"Both busy and uneventful at the same time," I reply, squeezing back. "I was at the centre until around midday and then went to Buck House right away. I had lunch with your Mum and later we were joined by Persis and Amy to finally conquer the seating plan. Amy had to leave to do some work for university, so we aren't finished yet, but there's not much to do anymore. Afterwards, of course, I spent some time with the girls since you were late."

"Not my fault!" he defends himself. "There were some really interesting people there and we just got talking."

"As it always happens," I tease lightly and smile. What makes Ken so approachable as a prince is that he's genuinely interested in what people tell him, but it also means that Oliver has his work cut out keeping him on schedule, especially at the military events.

Which makes me wonder…

"How was it for you?" I ask as Ken unlocks the door to Wren House and holds it open for me and Lottie.

He sets the giraffe down and shrugs out of his overcoat before helping me out of mine. "What do you mean?"

"Hmm…" I stall a little, trying to find the right words. "I'm just thinking because this one hit a little closer to home than usually."

He's been to unveil the new Iraq and Afghanistan memorial to honour the veterans of both wars. While unveiling military memorials is all in a day's work for him normally, they don't usually relate to a war that he's actually fought in. He usually isn't one of the veterans himself.

Instead of answering directly, Ken nudges me in direction of the kitchen and checks the fridge for something to turn into dinner. Lottie and the giraffe sit behind me, looking hopeful but waiting patiently. George is nowhere to be seen yet (and since 'patience' doesn't feature in his vocabulary, he'd never sit as calmly as Lottie does now), but it's nearing dinnertime and I'm expecting him home soon. George would never miss dinner!

"It was a little unusual, making a speech to honour those who fought in a war when I'm technically among them, but overall, it was okay," Ken finally answers my question while filling one of the pots with water.

I, meanwhile, take pity on Lottie and proceed to give her her dinner, which she munches noisily, before I also put some out for George already. (Lottie knows better than to touch it. So does the giraffe.) "How was it to talk to the other soldiers?" I ask carefully and sneak a glance at Ken.

He, perhaps sensing that, turns and smiles at me. "It was okay, it truly was. It brought up some memories, but not necessarily in a bad way. I liked the… shared understanding. I don't have it in the same way with the World War veterans, for example, so that was different, but good different."

"Then I'm glad," I reply and smile back at him.

I was a little worried that the memorial would give rise to bad or painful memories and was, therefore, a little apprehensive of him doing it. I know Owen was, too, and offered to do the unveiling, but Ken was adamant that it was his to do. I asked him to talk about it with Otto beforehand and I know he honoured the request, but it could still have gone either way, so I'm relieved to see him genuinely relaxed this evening. I don't know everything he and Otto speak about, but the effect is plain to see in so many ways. There's no doubt we all have a lot to be grateful for when it comes to Ken's therapist.

"So am I," Ken agrees and leans over the kitchen counter to give me a kiss. I know he knows I'm only ever worried for him because I want him to be well and happy.

"Speaking of military events, I also had a thought on the way back," he adds mysteriously.

I raise an eyebrow questioningly. "Oh?"

"I'm scheduled to do attend an event in France next month to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the Battle of Vimy Ridge," he elaborates. "It's a Canadian thing, of course, and with you being Canadian… I was wondering whether you'd like to accompany me?"


The title of this chapter is taken from the song 'Nights in White Satin' (written by Justin Hayward, released by Moody Blues in 1967).


To Guest:
Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it =).

To DogMonday:
You write such lovely, detailed reviews, so it's only right and proper that I respond to them in kind! It does always make me feel very honoured and humbled when readers engage with what I write and you're one of the readers whose reviews are always a special treat. Also, you know, I just enjoy chatting about this little story of mine ;).
Now, as for the engagement subject... I'm afraid I can't talk too much about that right now, but I can promise that the Big Dramatic Plots are behind us. There might still be blips and hiccups along the way, but we aren't looking at even more serious drama in the future. The engagement question is something that needs to be figured out though, so that feasibly counts as one of the hiccups, I think. I can promise that it will be figured out though and I
also promise that Rilla's confidence has not left her. She absolutely still has it, but it's something faultless that inevitably will be there in every moment of her life. The way I see it, everyone has good moments and moments that make them feel a little less confident and that's also true for her. She doesn't have everything figured out always and she sometimes second-guesses herself, simply because I think that's normal human behaviour. It doesn't undo the progress she's made overall though and it doesn't mean she won't end up dealing with those second-guessing-moments confidently in the end, just that sometimes, it needs a little time to get there.
I'm glad the combined information Rilla and I provided in the last chapter helped flesh out Amy a bit more. Generally speaking, I think quieter characters are a little more difficult to write because quiet people tend to sit back and observe, which means they just don't
do as much as someone who's confident, funny, loud - or even plain mean. There's just less to write about with a character who's quieter and more passive, but I feel they should rightfully exist in a story, too, simply because they also exist in real life. People come in all sorts of shapes, after all, and how boring would it be if they didn't!
You have, indeed, waited very patiently for Aunt Mary. I must ask you to wait a little while longer, but not
too much longer any more. In fact, give it two more chapters and the long wait will come to an end ;). (And I can only hope I did it justice and it won't feel like a let-down after all that time!)
That's interesting about
Anne of Ingleside not being translated into your language initially, because here in Germany, the same was true for Rainbow Valley. They packaged the first six books into three so-called "big books", compromising of two books each, and instead of giving RV and RoI the same treatment, they inexplicably split RoI in two parts and pretend it was a big book, too, even though it was really just RoI on its own. I wasn't aware RV even existed for years and couldn't read it until my English was up to scratch, so I didn't get around to it until about 5 years after I read the other seven books. I think there's a German translation now, but alas, too late for 11-year-old me!

To RachH:
Hello, hello! Lovely to hear from you again. I hope you're well and the tiredness is but a temporary phenomena!
Obviously, for me, the progress of Rilla and Ken's relationship, along with the development of her as a person and of him, too (though perhaps to a slightly lesser extent), is at the core of this story for me. The royal surroundings provide the setting as well as both a bit of glitter and some very specific problems, but ultimately, I think the key aspect are the characters and how they change and develop depending on the experience they have and the choices they make. Therefore, your comment about seeing the development of Rilla and Ken does please me muchly, because yes, that's always what I'm working to portray. They've both come a long way, certainly from the New York days but even just from where they were the previous spring. That doesn't mean there will never be disagreements or misunderstandings, but as you said, they learned to share their life with each other and they grew into this together, so there's a much stronger foundation than they used to be.
Yes, absolutely, Amy and Teddy are my way of saying "well, look, this is what could have happened if Rilla and Ken hadn't taken the necessary years to figure it out and had jumped into marriage instead". Obviously, these are different people and slightly different circumstances, so the outcome won't necessarily be the same, but some of the issues are similar. I dare say that Rilla and Ken, had they gotten married back in 2011, would be divorced by now because he wouldn't have taken the steps to get better and she would only have taken so much cr*p. Teddy is, as you say, less stressful as a person and Amy is both genuine and eager to please, so there's far less drama with them, which ultimately works to their advantage, but that doesn't mean the path ahead will be easy for them.
No Leslie and Owen, I'm afraid, but you got Persis in this chapter and I hope you enjoyed it. I'd agree that with her Olympic medal and with her stepping up to guide and support Amy, her character arc has come to a good point that doesn't need much more. She's grown a lot and is a lot more confident than she used to be, which really means that yes, she's good and there are worse things to to be ;).