The bedroom door opened with a grating creak, much to Lucina's dismay, rusted hinges grinding against itself as Regina pushed it open. She tried not to wince as the sound scraped against her ears, even before she was hit by the smell of dust and moths, the same kind of smell you would only find in an abandoned building.

The wooden planks creaked under her weight as she followed Regina inside.

"How is he?" Regina said.

Lucina stopped, unprepared with an answer. It took her a moment to realize that it wasn't a question aimed at her.

As Regina opened the door a little wider to let her through, Lucina took in the rest of the room. A bed rested over by the wall, the parents' bed, she assumed. In the opposite corner was a crib, and by a crib, she saw a woman sitting in a chair, her straight red hair tied up in a ponytail that barely reached over her shoulders.

The woman sitting by the crib turned her head, and Lucina was struck with how out of place the smile on her lips was, like someone trying too hard to look pleasant.

"He's fine so far," the woman said, "but I'm not sure how much longer I can keep it that way. The school of healing is a practice I have yet to dedicate myself to."

Regina frowned, and she looked around like. "Where are the others?" she asked. "The Duke said he had his best healers helping."

"They're somewhere," the woman said. "Trying to think of a better way to help, or so I'm told. I'm just here to see if anything goes wrong."

"Well, you can go. Lucina here," she said, motioning to Lucina, "says she might be able to help."

The woman lit up at that. "I see." Under her breath, Lucina heard her mutter, "Finally."

As she rose to leave, the woman grabbed a bag sitting by the crib, and the lute next to it, which Lucina hadn't seen there before. Before she could move, Regina held up a hand. Turning to Lucina, she said, "Lucina, is your eye alright?"

"What do you mean?" Lucina tilted her head, confused.

"You've just had your hand over your eye this whole time, and I thought something might be wrong."

Lucina's eye strayed over to the left side of her face, and she remembered that she did indeed have her hand pressed up against it.

"Oh, that." She chuckled nervously. "It's an old wound. Some sort of covering might be nice. Like a mask, if you have anything like that."

Regina looked at the woman, who only sighed.

"Do you not have anything of the like in your storehouses?" she said.

"Well... we might," Regina said, "but surely it won't be much of a bother for you. Would it?"

The woman sighed again. She didn't complain, though, and she let her bag and lute fall to the floor. She lifted the flap of her bag, rummaging through the contents. One of the first things she pulled out was a large leather-bound book, which she set onto the chair beside her.

The instant her eyes fell on the book, Lucina recognized it in an instant.

Laurent had always carried his mother's journal with him wherever he went. Above where his name was written on the cover, his mother's name was etched into the leather in ink, a thin line running through it. And before it had belonged to Laurent's mother, it belonged to her mother. Although Laurent's grandmother had never written her name on the journal's cover, the way it was bound was unmistakable. Combine that with the fact that this woman had a very deep shade of red hair, and...

It couldn't be. Could it?

"Here you go."

The woman's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and Lucina found the woman holding out an eyepatch for her to take. Lucina mumbled her thanks. By the time she had the eyepatch over her branded eye, the woman brushed past her without another word, taking the journal with her. Lucina's eye followed her as she strode down the hall, her every step punctuated with the sharp click of her boots until she finally turned into another hall and disappeared.

Before Lucina could dwell on that, Regina ushered her inside. As the door closed behind her, Regina motioned toward the crib. "Can you take a look?"

Lucina gave an irritated sigh, but her feet guided her to the crib's side. Her hands fell to the edge of the crib, and she leaned over for a peek.

The boy in the crib was a far cry from the parent she knew he would turn out to be. He looked small, tiny even, huddled up with the blue blankets swirling around in the crib, and his skin was so pale he almost blended into the white sheets. His tiny chest rose and fell, but aside from that, he was completely still. He looked so weak.

Lucina recognized it; in her time, her mother and Laurent's mother had already figured out a cure for it, but as she opened her mouth, it hit her that she didn't quite know what it was.

"What? What's wrong?" Regina said, her voice wavering.

"Nothing," Lucina said, quickly regaining her composure. "I know what this is."

"Do you think you can help?"

Lucina bit her lip. She couldn't, but Inigo's father was dying. It was her fault. She had to fix it.

"Give me time," she said. "I'll get you your cure, but I'll need time."

"You can?" Regina's voice rose, and she looked so relieved Lucina almost felt bad about lying to her.

No, I wasn't lying, Lucina hissed to herself. I know there's a cure, I just need time to figure out what it was.

"I'll just leave you to it," Regina said, backing herself toward the door.

As she pulled it aside, she took one last glance over her shoulder. Lucina gave her a nod and waved her off. The door shut behind her with a click, leaving Lucina alone with the baby.

Her eye wandered to the crib. She found her hand wandering over to the railing, and she brushed a finger along the rim.

"I won't let you die," she whispered. "Not my father, not any of you."

The baby stirred in his sleep. Lucina held her breath, then realized that he probably couldn't understand a word she was saying.

She leaned away and fell back into her chair. A silence settled over the room, and with every passing second, she felt a pit open up inside her. She'd just promised she would come up with a cure, but she didn't have a clue where to begin. Aunt Miriel would know. Laurent would know. But none of them were here. It was just her.

Her fist clenched. She would find a way. She'd found her way here, after all. Finding a cure couldn't be harder than that, surely.


It was like looking in a mirror.

Granted, it was a broken mirror, but a mirror nonetheless. The ratty clothes hanging loose over the girl's form, her hair matted with dirt; Lucina was on another level, but Anna felt like she could understand this girl. She knew what made her tick.

So naturally, she thought it would be easy to get her interested.

"Hey there! I'm Anna!" she said, sticking out her hand. "If you ever need soap, needles, or fabric, I'm your girl! What's your name?"

Aversa scowled.

Anna's smile faltered, and her hand fell back to her side. Weird. Whenever her mother did it, other people treated her a lot better.

Maybe I spoke too fast, she thought.

Waving aside that last mistake, Anna tried a different approach. "I'm kidding, I already know your name. Aversa, right?"

Aversa snorted, and she turned away. "Go find someone else to sweet-talk."

Anna crossed her arms, a real frown finally setting in. Well, that went well, she thought. I'd never sweet-talk anyone. I always tell the truth.

With a disappointed sigh, she turned around and started to walk away. If she couldn't catch that girl's interest, maybe she could just find some other buyer. Or maybe something else to steal.

"Hello, Jasper. How have you been?"

Anna stopped, and she turned around. There, down the hall, she saw the same girl talking to one of the guards. In the place of the cold look she had with Anna, a warm smile was sewn into her lips. It was almost like she was a completely different person.

Anna didn't trust that one bit. How could one person change so quickly? And to some guard, no less.

I'm much better company than any silly old guardsman.

As she watched Aversa and the guard speak with each other, growing smaller as they walked down the hall, her eyes narrowed. Something didn't add up.

Not that it was any of her business. With a shrug, Anna spun back around and walked the other way. The girl didn't matter to her. Lucina did say that she didn't intend on staying. It wasn't like she was ever going to see her again.

She had barely taken three steps when she realized her backpack felt lighter than it should have been. Her brows pulled down, and she tried to slip her backpack off her shoulder, only to find that it wasn't there.

Her eyes widened. Anna glanced over her shoulder and down the hall, just in time to see Aversa vanish into another hall.

Now the girl mattered. With gritted teeth, Anna broke into a sprint after her. She had almost reached the same corridor when a blue blur popped out from the wall. Anna squeaked. It wasn't enough to stop her from barreling into it, sending it and her tumbling to the floor in a mess of blue cloth.

"Watch it!" Anna said, and she jumped to her feet, and who else did she find in front of her except the very same nobleman she'd helped escort here.

"I'm sorry!" Reginald replied. His eyes landed on her, and they suddenly widened. "Where have you been?"

Anna leaned to the side. "Who's asking?"

"Me?" Reginald shook his head. "Nevermind that. Does your mother know you're up so late?"

Her mother? At first, she thought he was talking about her actual mother, or at the very least, an older Anna. It took her a second to remember he was talking about Lucina.

"No. Is she worried about me?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen her since Regina dragged her off."

In her head, Anna groaned. It looked like they were going to be staying for a bit longer. On the bright side, it left her more time to steal her bag back from that wicked Aversa girl.

She tried to slip past Reginald, but her clothes caught on something, yanking her back. She whirled around to pull it free, only to find her hood in the hands of the nobleman.

"Hey! Let me go!" she said, struggling as Reginald pulled her off the ground.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sure whatever you need to do is important, but it will have to wait until tomorrow."

Anna gave him her best 'angry kitten' impression as she clawed for his face. "I said, let me go!"

"I don't think your mother wouldn't happy if she found you were staying up so late."

"B-but my bag–"

"It's probably fine. The guards would have put it in a safe place by now. At least, I hope so. If you really want it, you can get it in the morning, but right now you need to sleep, missy."

Anna sputtered some more, but it wasn't like Reginald was paying any attention. A passing patrol of guards entered the hallway, and Anna thought they would surely rescue her from having to go to bed. When they saw her hanging from the nobleman's hand like a lost puppy, hissing and spitting, they passed her without a second look. Stupid guards. Showed what they knew.

Reginald took one step, before he stopped, looking quite confused. "Which room did the Duke give to you?" he said, turning to her.

"I'll never surrender!"

Reginald just sighed.


This is mostly just expositional stuff, set up for later chapters, etc. Nothing too exciting. Maybe some day I'll find a way to make it more fun, but as of now... well, what is there to say?

Update might not come directly next week. I might take a break from writing, but then again, I might not. What I do know is that I will be moving my update time for this story (at least, while school is out) to Tuesday, so I can spend Sunday doing nothing.