One morning, as Maria Campbell woke up from strange dreams about a beautiful stranger in a garden around a memory of home, she discovered that in bed she had been buried in bodies.

For a moment, she lay there, disoriented, wondering why her last memory was her mo– er, why her last clear memory was in her mother's house if she was lying in a pile of bodies. Ah, no wait, she remembered Rafael talking to her… she must have been more lost in her own mind than she thought, if she hadn't noticed herself being moved.

Carefully, she looked around. He bodies were all still breathing– which was a relief– and very small, and she realized it was the children. Wait, had she fallen asleep in their rooms? No, this was definitely her room, she'd knew that ceiling… wait, why was her room so noisy? Thought the storm still raged outside, it was clearly weaker now that it had before, and the sounds of thunder was more distant, as if it were moving on. Despite that, her room was rife with the sounds of breathing.

Very carefully, she extracted one arm– it was difficult, as at least three children had latched onto it and were cuddling it, and as a result had lost some feeling at some point in the night– and propped herself up on an elbow. Ah, that was why. In addition to all the children on her bed, there were more on her floor, sleeping on mattresses, blankets and pillows dragged from their room. Sadako lay curled up at the foot of her bed with the children, still wearing her full maid uniform, while Rafael sat in her napping chair, legs splayed out indecorously, head dropping at an angle that was sure to give him neck pain.

Maria frowned and took a second look, realizing some of her older wards were in the room as well, sitting slumped against the walls or with their heads on a mattress or pillow or another's woman's thigh or arm, sleeping straight on the ground.

What in the abyss was everyone doing in her room? It couldn't have been some sort of drunken haze, they barely had any alcohol in the estate! Certainly not enough to get this many people drunk, even if the children were small!

Sighing, Maria proceeded to carefully extract herself. It was slow going, as some of the children started to cling to her tighter when she tried to move, but eventually she managed to… well, flop awkwardly onto the floor where no one was sleeping. Straightening up on her feet, she straightened her clothes, and found it to be stained with sweat and fear. Shaking her head, she carefully navigated to her wardrobe, navigating over those sleeping on the floor, and pulled out a fresh change of clothes.

The water was cold, which was to be expected, but she'd been a commoner. Bathing in cold water as not unknown to her. At least she had a candle, so she didn't need to bathe in the dark.

She folded her used clothes neatly for Sadako to deal with later as she stepped out of the bathroom. Everyone was still asleep, though by the occluded light from the window it was still fairly early.

The halls of her manor were dark and shadowed, the little light coming in through windows casting everything in a weak, grayish haze, and she was suddenly struck vividly by a memory of walking the halls of Byrgenwerth, her arms laden with books as she headed to one of the lecture halls…

She shook her head, bringing herself back to the here and now. Why was she thinking of the past? Well, besides the fact she'd dreamed of her old home last night.

Well, her old, old, home.

Her mother's house was right it had been the day before, though a candle shone in the kitchen, and a shadow moved back and forth. Maria let herself in with her key, still in her pockets, and locked the door behind her. no one would be able to get to her mother now without going through knights, her armsmen, and going around the whole house, but she still locked the door.

Anne Shelley was working in the kitchen, cooking something. Pancakes, if Maria was any judge. Some sausages. Eggs. Food full of energizing fats and sugars, perfect after a long night of–

Maria managed to clamp down on the thought before she started making unfortunate sounds in her throat.

For a moment, Maria just stood there, watching Katarina's maid cook. The kitchen was filled with the smells of cooking, but even with that, she could tell Anne Shelley didn't smell of… of… well, she didn't have a questionable smell.

"Sit down Alice, breakfast will be ready soon," Anne Shelley said.

Maria coughed. "I am not mother, Miss Shelley."

The maid stilled. Methodically, she removed the foods from the stove before she turned to face Maria.

"Lady Campbell," the maid said.

"Miss Shelley," the knight said.

"May I offer you a seat and some breakfast?" Anne Shelley's face was smooth, and perfectly professional. Not at all like someone who'd been–

"I shall be dining with the children, so I must decline," Maria said. "But I shall sit, yes. I wish to speak with you. If you please?"

She gestured to the chair across from her as she sat down, and Anne Shelley smoothly acquiesced, sitting on the indicated chair.

"I expect," the maid began, "that you have many questions."

"Yes," Maria said. "However, not all need to be answered, at this time or at all. Some are questions best not asked, for this leads to knowledge one must not know, which sears the mind and causes madness.."

"…" the maid said. "If you say so."

"However, there is a question I would have answers to," Maria continued. Indeed, there were many. Had Anne Shelley forced herself on mother, imposing more than a guest in her house should? Had mother forced herself on Anne, her long years of neglect filling her with lust after such prolonged contact with a maid? How long had this been going on? What had she not been told? So many questions, yet she clamped down on them. They were irrelevant, she knew, for all they did was satisfy Maria's curiosity and fuel her righteousness. And so they weren't important.

"Anything," Anne Shelley said.

Maria looked her in the eye. "How do you feel when…" she swallowed, and pressed forward, focusing on the words and not the images the conjured, "when my mother holds you in her arms?"

Whatever Anne Shelley had been expecting, it hadn't been that. She blinked, and for the first time ever, Maria saw tinges of red on her cheeks. "I… what?"

"You heard me. Answer the question," Maria said.

If anything, the tinge became stronger. Nevertheless, Anne Shelley gathered herself. "I feel… warm. Safe. I feel as if I have been blessed. I never want her to let go. I want to just be there, forever…" By the time she finished, she was as red as Mary Hunt having a very lewd thought.

Maria stared at her. "Do you love my mother?" she asked redundantly.

"Yes." This time the answer was firm, strong, almost defiant.

Maria nodded. She stood. "Is my mother awake?"

Anne Shelley stood as well. Her face was smooth, though there was confusion in her eyes. A petty, childish part Maria was glad of that. "She was still asleep when I checked on her earlier this morning."

Maria nodded and turned to go upstairs, then paused. She gave Anne Shelley a sidelong glance. "When you checked," she said, "was mother also clothed?"

Not so much as a twitch on her face. "Yes," Anne said. Her gaze was calm, tranquil and serene. "She was worried about you all night. She fell asleep worrying about you. She was afraid you hated her."

Maria blinked, the words coming out of her mouth in shock. "That's absurd! Why would I ever hate mother?"

For some reason, Anne Shelley nodded, relieved and… satisfied? "I would suggest," she said, "that you assure her as soon as possible. To avoid any confusion on the subject."

Confusion? How could there be confusion of something so obvious? "I will take it under advisement," Maria said, turning to go up to wake her mother and speak to her.

"Maria."

Just that. No title, no last name. Just 'Maria', as if she were still just a commoner student at the Academy and Anne was her acquaintance.

Maria glanced back at Anne. It would figure that Katarina's maid would pick up some of her bad habits regarding proper titles. "Yes?"

"Doesn't your mother deserve to hear you say that you love her? Doesn't she deserve to be told she is loved at every moment of every day?"

For a moment, Maria stood still. Then she nodded. "You are correct."

Anne nodded, then turned to continue making breakfast with the air of a duty fulfilled.

Maria turned and went upstairs to wake up her mother.

She lost a regrettable amount of time just staring at the door, her mind conjuring disturbing visions of what she had seen the last time she had opened this portal, but she gathered her courage, reminded herself she was not to start thinking people had eyes on the inside of her brains or to think she needed to she needed to see them, and knocked on the door.

It was a weak, anemic, childish knock even Maria herself would barely have heard were it not for the feeling of her knuckles impacting the wood.

Gritting her teeth determinedly and reminding herself she had faced beasts, ogres, and the Student Council paperwork with only two people, she knocked again, a more firm, womanly knock.

She thought she heard someone shuffle in bed, as if curling up into a ball of denial.

"Mother?" she called, and the air turned still. "It is I, Maria. May we speak?" Then, remembering what she'd just said to Anne, she added, "I love you, mother."

She felt so childish saying that out loud. Argh!

For a long moment, there was no response.

She knocked again. "Anne is making breakfast," Maria said. "I was hoping we can talk before she finished. Please, mother?"

For a long moment, there was more nothing. Then there was a creak of wood, and footsteps.

Ever so slowly, the door inched open. A sleepy, nervous face looked out at her in the dim morning light as the rain continued outside.

"Good morning, mother," Maria said gently. "Did you sleep well?"

It was clear she hadn't. Her eyes were bloodshot, and there was a tiredness about her.

"Maria?" her mother said, taking a tentative step forward, then seeming to flinch and staying where she was.

Maria smoothly stepped forward and enfolded her mother in a hug, holding her gently but tightly. She smelled of sleep sweat (and thankfully not of any other kind of sweat or fluids), but she was warm and soft and comforting and Maria never wanted to let go. Maria lay her head on her mother's shoulder and sighed in contentment.

Slowly, she felt her mother's arms touch her back, slowly holding her close.

"I'm sorry if I worried you, mother," Maria said, not moving an inch. "I was… shocked. Shocked and surprised. Shocked and surprised and… well. I was caught unaware and I reacted poorly. Please forgive my childishness."

"Maria, you… wouldn't wake up," her mother said, sounding pained and holding her tight, as if afraid to let her go. "You sounded… you sounded like I did, when those women were hurting me."

Maria flinched, realizing how much her reaction must have hurt her mother. To have inadvertently reminded her mother of her time captured by those women, subjected to Dark Magic… "I'm sorry, mother," she repeated. "I didn't realize how I upset you so. I'll try to sound different next time."

Her mother pulled back slightly and gave Maria a strangely exasperated look. "I was worried about you," her mother said, sounding mildly aggrieved, "because you'd collapsed, making pained sounds outside of my door and twitching."

Despite her, Maria twitched at the reminder.

"Yes, like that," her mother said, pulling her in again, and Maria relaxed into the hug.

"I'm sorry," Maria repeated. "But in my defense, I did just see you…!" She managed to stop the sounds trying to get out of her throat, but there was no stopping the twitching. "I knocked," she defended herself lamely. "And called out to you."

"I suppose we didn't hear," mother said, and Maria could see her ear turning red.

"Very understandable," Maria said. She took a deep breath. "But I don't hate you. Whatever else, I don't hate you. I was merely surprised and my mind was trying to scour itself of the memory of what I'd just seen. Unsuccessfully."

Mother began to make a sound deep in her throat. Part of Maria wanted to laugh hysterically as she realized she and her mother made the same sort of distressed sound.

"It's all right mother," she said. "If you have found pleasure with Anne… then I'm happy for you. Truly, I am. I love you. I will always be happy for you, whatever you choose, so long as it brings you happiness, joy and pleasure. I will simply need some time to… to not see any… unfortunate memories… when I see you two together."

She felt mother trying to bury her face in Maria's shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you," her mother said, voice slightly muffled. "I didn't… I wasn't sure…"

Maria nodded. "Well, I know now," Maria said, trying to lower drawbridges. "I didn't realize you had a taste for women. If you had told me, I could have helped you find someone sooner." She might have even offered herself, had her mother so desired, if she'd known. After all, mother would never hurt her…

"I didn't know myself," came the muffled reply. "Not until it happened, and… she just… understood. How hard it was…"

Maria nodded, patting her mother and valiantly trying not to imagine strange interpretations. "Will you come down for breakfast?" Maria asked. "Anne should be done cooking by now."

Her mother nodded against her shoulder.

Still, they stood like that a little while longer.