Hello everyone,

Thank you for your continued support, and all the kind words. I read the reviews all the time to remind myself this story has reached people from so far around the world. I owe it to you all who have been with me form the beginning to finish this story- no matter how long it takes.

So lets get into another chapter- with another soon to follow!

The softness of approaching morning was what prompted me to exit the winding shelves of the library. I gave it one last look over my shoulder before closing the door behind me. I would be sure to spend more time inside its walls before returning home.

I was glad to find the halls were as quiet as the stormy mountains below us, as I was sure I looked nothing close to human considering I had slept perhaps one hour in total, laid out on the ground with a book tucked beneath my head. I knew I should force myself back to my room, I would have a long journey ahead of me, and I knew a warm bed would be sorely missed the next few days, but the thought of what awaited me in unconsciousness- nightmares so similar to real memories locked deep inside me, had me steering towards the kitchens instead.

A steaming cup of coffee would have to suffice in place of sleep.

I rubbed the balls of my palms into my eyes, nearly running into the doorframe, before settling myself with a sigh. How was I expecting to ride a horse like this?

"Rough night?"

Out of pure instinct, and mere muscle memory, I reached for a sword that was not there, body locked for ambush, before Lady Florence laughed from her seat at the servants table in the center of the room.

"Apologies, Heir." and though she was still giggling a bit she said, "Perhaps I should not laugh."

Heart still pounding, I relaxed a bit as I took in her appearance. Her long hair was unbound, her skin seeming even paler in the low light of the hearth, her delicate shoulders covered in a bulky red robe. And even still, if anyone would look between us in that moment, it would be her they bowed to.

"It is I who should offer an apology, my lady. I was not expecting anyone else up at this hour."

"I'm sure you are not often taken by surprise, Orihime," her use of my name felt oddly deliberate. She gestured to the chair across from hers, then to the dark clay pitcher on the table. "Please, join me. I hate the quiet and would love a chance to spite it."

Once seated, she poured me a cup of what I could smell was rich coffee. It took all my years of proper court etiquette to keep from downing it in gulps, choosing instead to take two small sips before lowering it. "You awake quite early for someone with a dislike of the silence,"

Lady Florence smiled around her own cup, "I have yet to sleep. I much prefer retiring early and sleeping in late, but I fear I would miss the departure if I close my eyes even a wink, so I will not."

I did not know what I was expected to say, and so it took me a moment too long to respond, "Do you sleep quite soundly?"

She looked at me, that smile never once faltering, "As well as I can with my husbands snores,"

I raised an eyebrow, "Hopefully not a family trait?"

"I worry it might be. Even as a young boy Ryley was a restless sleeper. Kicking and bucking at worst, and room shaking snores at best."

I sighed, taking another long drink. The thought of even having to sleep in a bed with another person was enough to aggravate me. I wondered if Ryley would take offense if I slept on the floor. Knowing him, I'm sure he'd sleep in the closet if I requested it... "I suppose if that is the worst of it, I should count myself lucky."

A sort of grim understanding overtook her expression.

I did not wish to be the reason for such a face, and so I quickly said, "Do you like it here in the North? Have you been to many other places?"

She too seemed relieved, "I can hardly say it is an easy place to live, but I do prefer it to the hustle of the high courts. Bellator, of course, is always lovely. A place like that seems nearly unreal when I remember the spectacularness of it."

"Is it truly beautiful?' I had imaged it so many times, read about it just as often but it had been years since I let myself picture it.

When I was young Sora used to tell me stories of the colorful shops on either end of the canals all around the city. He would let me pretend I lived behind one of those high windows in the white stone castle, a fair and grand princess ready and waiting for her knight to climb up the vines leading to her room. He had always been such a magnificent story-teller. When he spoke I'd always forget the aching of my bruised hands, and the tears I'd been crying at the broken blisters on my palms would dry up.

"It is." the Lady watched me closely, and then shook her head softly. "The gardens below the castle are said to bloom all year long. Kisuke let me wander through it many years ago, and I have a suspicion the gardens are larger than the castle itself, it took me three days to get through half its paths," she caught my eye, "Have you never been?"

The words I'd been saying all my life lingered in my throat. Bellator- a city for the pampered and the delusional. A place fit for weak people who preferred the stench of roses to reality. I was to hold myself above it, to spit down on it from my place in my father's hierarchy. I knew it would be what Clark expected from me, a mirror image to what he also thinks of our Eastern city, however, in the silence following Lady Florence's sentence I knew it was not at all what I wanted to say.

For the barest of moments, I hesitated. With the softness of her features and the motherly smell of her perfume, she would be the perfect test for Clark to send to me, striking me right where I am weakest. If I were to tell her the truth, would it then be sealed tight and sent to my father?

"I have not," I said. I opened my mouth, then closed it again.

Lady Florence nodded mutely, and I wondered if she was waiting for me to build the courage to say more. When I did not, she allowed us to sit in the quiet a few lingering heartbeats longer, taking a large gulp from her cup. "Well then we shall have to go together. Ryley has never been, either, and I think it would make a wonderful wedding present for you both."

I gulped, hands tightening around my coffee, "I fear I will not have the time. My journey here was only allowed due to the rising tension in the Inbetween, I am to solidify your armies and then return West."

She hummed to herself for a moment.

"I hear Bellator's armies are very undisciplined," she mused, a finger to her chin. "Kisuke will never be able to get them into line on his own, we all know how fickle men can be. I do wonder if there is anyone else who would be up for the job?" With a side glance, she raised an eyebrow at me. I chuckled down at the table as she continued, "Maybe I shall whisper into Luca's ear about it."

I laughed again, "I suppose I will need only wait for you to name the day, my lady."

"You look so very much like her," she said suddenly.

When I met her gaze, red was already blooming in her cheeks. I did not need to ask to know who she meant. "You knew her?"

Florence sighed deeply, her face turning solemn. "I did not mean to mention it," she paused, as if not knowing if she should go on.

I spoke before she could close the subject, "How did you know her?"

Florence studied my face, and I knew it was in the same way I had studied hers. No doubt wondering how much of this conversation would reach my father. He was not forthcoming when it came to my mother, and now I wondered if his silence caused others hesitation to speak of her.

I reached for her hand, it was hot from the hearth and clammy from her nerves. "Please,"

Her body went slack at the word, her face crumbling, "I did know your mother and I knew her well. We were friends, and friendships maintained through distance and hardships are bound together forever."

She covered my hand with her own, "Lainey would be so sad to know you have never been to Bellator, she loved her lands and her people more than any ruler I've ever known. Before or since."

I had so many things I wanted to ask, but I could not unclench my jaw without fear of losing control of my emotions that boiled right under the surface of my mask. Lady Florence, thank the gods, seemed to read the questions in my eyes.

"Lainey was... wild. She had a spirit not meant for her time. She questioned her father, and then her brother, with such a ruthlessness no one else would ever dare. She would often write to me of her debates with the Counsel of Thorns, her quill breaking through the parchment with her enthusiasm as she told me how she had made them yield to her, bow to her demands." Florence smiled to herself, "I used to wonder how much of those stories were exaggerated, for Lainey did love to indulge in theatrics."

My heart beat so solidly in my chest I was sure she could hear it, "Was she... good?"

Florence clicked her tongue and squeezed my hand, tears now in her eyes, "I do wonder if any of us will be remembered as anything else, but in her case I can say with no uncertainty that your mother was as good as can be. She made mistakes, ones that cost her dearly, but she never faltered."

Mistakes like loving Clark, for leaving the safety of her rose tinted city and venturing out to argue with real wolves- bleeding out for her trouble.

"She could not have been so smart, if she did not see Clark for what he was."

The words were out before I could stop them, and they were filled with a fire I could not mask, could not control. I no longer cared if this conversation was a test set by my father, that these words could be the final log placed in my pyre. I would be consumed by the flames if I did not let them breathe.

Lady Florence looked inclined to agree with me, and she did not bother to hide her own anger as the grip of my hand tightened enough to throb. "I have had many years to ponder just that. I knew my friend to be of sound mind yet compulsive. I knew her to be cautious yet spontaneous. She was a walking contradiction, every step she took came as a surprise to everyone around her. I have teetered from scolding her idiocy, to praising her courage. It is no easy thing to love a person despite their faults, and it is not to be scoffed at for leaving your entire world behind in hopes you will find yourself in a better one." She swallowed thickly, and I could not break her stare as she said, "It is not my place to debunk what she did feel or what she did not. Love is a temperamental beast, and it finds us even when we wish it doesn't. Loving your father was a choice that was hers alone to make, and it would not have been right for me to take that choice from her."

As the choice had been taken from her. And from me too.

Regardless of what had happened, how it all had ended, it would be nice to imagine the love that created me had been real.

The tears were already wet on my cheeks before I felt them sting in my eyes and I hung my head low. Florence ran a hand over the crown of my head, her touch making me sob harder. I could picture my mother, picture my face on the body of a woman who should have lived past my birth, who should have protected me from all the horrors of this world.

"She would have loved you too, Orihime. And she would be so proud of you."

I was not sure if it was the lack of sleep, or the comfort of her hand in my hair, or the overwhelming warmth of the fire behind us, but I believed her.

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