Even with the crown toppled, the Imperial City seemed to have never changed.

We stopped there to rest, and for Lucien to attend to further business. I didn't question it, didn't dare. I didn't want to know. Besides, I welcomed the opportunity to lose myself in a crowd again and escape my thoughts. Even Shadowmere and the dog seemed to welcome a break, both easily coaxed to the stables for care, though the mutt earned another sideways glance. Extra coin smoothed that over.

Even as I welcomed the chance for a break from the road, my chest ached. Memories surfaced with nearly every step I took. Strolling in the Arboretum with Bolor's arm around my shoulders, running from shop to shop in delight in the market district, listening to the magnificent music that would ring out from the Temple on Sundas. How many times had my feet circled the White Gold Tower before I was torn away? I didn't dare approach the University.

I didn't need to. In a way, it approached me.

Lucien accompanied me at first, moving along Green Emperor Way late morning. Things were mostly quiet, others working, shopping, already arrived at their destinations for the day. But there were some about, strolling as we did, talking amongst themselves or examining the gravestones and mausoleums.

A strange sound, somehow familiar, caught my attention. Jingling, the song of a delicate headdress. An Argonian approached and my heart leapt into my throat.

"…Tar-Meena?"

"Dusty?" Her eyes widened, voice a rasp before her entire face turned alight and she caught me in her arms, Lucien drawing back with a frown. "By the gods, it is you. I thought I'd never see you again. Where have you been? You just vanished, no one knew what had happened to you, I've been so worried - "

"I – " My gaze turned to Lucien as she held me, desperate for some answers. He only raised a brow, leaving me to stammer. "I – after, after everything, with Bolor I, I decided to go. I… I left."

Her orange eyes flickered in confusion. "Without a word? It's been months, Dust. I was worried sick about you."

"She wanted a fresh start." Lucien stepped in, linking his arm around mine, stopping me in my tracks as I tried to babble some excuse. I blinked at him, lost, and he only smirked back. "Can you blame her, after the – unfortunate events with that man? Ah, forgive me." All charm he bowed his head, tied hair falling onto the crisp shoulder of his doublet. "I am Miles Garrus, Dust's husband."

Tar-Meena stared, eyes wide, openly expressing the shock I felt. "Husband?" Her gaze turned on to me. "You married?"

"It all happened rather quickly, but then that's the best kind of romance, isn't it, pet?" He glanced at me, smirk remaining, but eyes hard. I flushed and nodded along. "A whirlwind. We courted, then spent the last few weeks on honeymoon in High Rock to visit our families. I'm sure you know how it is, with budding romance. All others seem to be swept aside. This is why we're in the city, so I can catch up on business."

Her expression fell. She said nothing, but I could hear it regardless. I'd let her think I was missing, even dead, when I'd been having the time of my life. I hadn't even bothered to write.

"Tar-Meena…" I moved to take her hand, but she retracted. I winced, swallowing hard. "I'm so, so sorry. It's all just been moving so fast, and…"

She shook her head and gave a small, fragile smile. "It's alright. I understand." Someone – a man in armour, standing by one of the mausoleums – waved her over. "I must return to work. It – It was good, to see you well."

"I'll write. I promise, I'll write." I blinked back tears as she turned. One of the last remnants of my old life, the life I had tried to build for myself here in the city. "… Goodbye, Tar-Meena."

The moment I had a chance I dragged Lucien to an alley, snarling. "Why would you do that!?"

He shook his head, chuckling as though amused by a child's unreasonable anger. "Would you have preferred I tell the truth?"

I tried to picture her reaction. Horror, disbelief, the danger she'd put herself in trying to rescue me. I growled in my throat. "You know I wouldn't, but you could have let me talk to her. I could have…"

"You're a terrible liar, pet. She would have known something was wrong, and pressed you. You would only be putting her in danger, risking letting her know too much."

He was right. I hated that he was right. I swore under my breath and glanced at the people walking by, occasionally glancing to where we argued.

"Besides," He continued casually, drawing closer. "We're supposed to be a loving husband and wife, now. Ought to act the part." His hand moved to rest on the wall behind me, leaning over me. To anyone passing we'd look like a daring couple, stealing a moment of romance in the dark.

He leaned in, and I hissed. "I hate you, you know."

He smirked. "I know."

I didn't turn away from the kiss.

We got a room at the Tiber Septim Hotel, befitting a wealthy merchant and his bride. Luxurious, especially in contrast to the seemingly endless days of travel we'd endured so far. Still, it was difficult to let myself relax and enjoy it. I kept thinking of Tar-Meena, of the disappointment in her eyes.

Cool silk sheets, warm skin, burning kisses were some distraction. I hated him, and that hate made making love all the more intense, my nails dragging down his back, his teeth on my throat. It was so easy to fall into it, to let myself succumb to the moment and wherever he led. Late that night he left me, naked and alone, to pursue his evening's business.

I didn't want to know, but I was glad he undertook it then.

I dressed silently, as though he might be listening at the door. The Listener, listening. I laughed bitterly under my breath at that, then headed out into the night.

Part of me was still wary. That thief had caught me, on a night like this, because I'd been foolish enough to loiter in an alley alone. A man, a good man had died because of me.

But I had to do this, no matter the risks. And perhaps I wanted to prove to myself I could.

I made my way to the Arcane University, silent and still save a few stray guards patrolling. None of them gave me a second glance. Somehow, I still looked like I belonged.

I knew the way by heart even now, and made my way to the Mystic Archives. Tar-Meena's domain, where I'd first met her, where we'd spend laughing evenings together, poring over books and telling stories of our own. Unlocked – if I knew her as well as I thought, she'd still be doing her relentless late-night cleaning, to leave it spotless for apprentices to befoul again in the morning. The brushing of leather on leather, books being stacked away, told me I was right.

"Dust?" She stood abruptly, making her way towards me as though to block me from entering further. Her eyes were sharp in the dim light, only magicked orbs illuminating the room from lamps above us. "What are you doing here?" A pause, and her voice softened. "… Shouldn't you be with your husband?"

"He's not…" I trailed away. Lucien had been right, that telling her the truth would lead to her death. But I needed to offer something, anything to make things right. "He's fine. Snoring, so I couldn't sleep." I managed a smile. "I just – I had to see you. I have to apologize, properly."

She shook her head, the chime of her headdress making my chest ache. Had it only been months ago, I heard that sound so often? "You don't need to do that, Dust. I'm happy for you."

"But I should have written. I should have tried to contact you, to do something." Even through the lie of my departure, it rang true. "Everything just happened so fast."

A low chuckle. She placed a clawed hand on my shoulder and I felt myself soften, melt from relief at her forgiveness. "It's alright, truly. I understand, Dusty. I just – I was worried about you. Now I'm just happy to see you're alright."

I smiled back, hoping the bitterness rising in my throat didn't bleed into my words. If only she knew. "I am. But I miss you, too." I glanced around at the Archives – as eternal as ever, from the time I first stepped in as an apprentice myself. "What have you been working on?"

"I can't discuss it too openly, but I've been kept busy." That low laugh again, bringing pinpricks of happy tears to my eyes. "Researching the Daedra and cracking secret codes, a normal Middas."

The Daedra.

Something must have changed in my expression from how she drew back, the slant of her sloped brow wrinkling. "What is it?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. I just – they were never really my interest before, the Daedra, but these days I find myself more curious." Another white lie, sour on my tongue.

"Ah, since the portals have begun to open? Yes, many students are wanting to know about them, these days. To defend the city if a portal should ever open here, or just out of intrigue. The horrific is always fascinating, after all." She smiled, baring teeth. "Else I wouldn't be in my line of work."

Fascinating. Would she find the people I'd become entangled with fascinating?

"Are all Daedra bad?" I surprised myself by asking aloud, the question childish outside of my mind. Tar-Meena blinked, moving to put away more of the books abandoned on tables as we spoke.

"Not all, no. If you mean Daedra in terms of the creatures – clannfear, scamps, atronachs – they are no more good or bad than a wolf, killing to survive. Or at least, no more good or bad than their conjurer."

I chewed on my lip. "What about the princes?"

"That's a bit more complicated. No, not all are exclusively bad, but they all represent facets of mortal nature. At least, that is my understanding." She tilted her head, blinking. "Was there a particular prince you wondered about?"

My mouth was dry. "… Sheogorath."

She stopped her work, surprised. "The God of Madness? Why Him?"

I struggled to think of an excuse. "… Well, he's also the god of creativity, yes? Creativity is inherent to my work as an alchemist, to try new things, new methods. I was curious about inspiration, imagination…"

She laughed and my shoulders slumped with relief. "Yes, that's true. That's what I mean by 'facets', in fact. Madness and foolishness, creativity and genius. Two sides of the same coin." She raised her hand in demonstration, showing the back and the palm. Two sides. "But you don't need to learn about him to have his gifts. You've always had them, with your potions."

I remembered my poison, sapping away at flesh and blood to speed along death. Made for mercy, a creative invention for kindhearted hunters. My smile tightened, strained.

"And it seems you can experiment to your heart's content, what with a handsome husband taking care of you." Lighthearted teasing entered her voice. I tried not to cringe. "He looked well off, and for you to have gone on a honeymoon like that, I'm sure you'll be free to do as you like. Unless you're planning on children, soon?"

The thought – children, with Lucien - made me blanch. "No!" I caught myself, shaking my head. "Uh – n-no, not yet."

She laughed again, the rasp accompanied by the tinkling of her headdress. "Just asking, Dusty." A sigh. She slid the last book into place, pausing. "I… I should go and sleep. I may be called upon again tomorrow, for my work. You promise me you will write?"

I nodded. I could keep that promise – I had to. Surely, Lucien could be convinced it was for the best, if only to keep up appearances. "I promise, Tar-Meena. I'm just sorry I didn't before."

"Well, the best way to learn is from a mistake." She chuckled and gave me a one-armed embrace. In that moment, I wanted to tell her the truth. To break down and tell her everything from the very beginning, if only to have a sympathetic ear.

I only smiled, bid goodnight and left.

Lucien was still gone when I returned, to my relief. I didn't want to have to explain where I'd been, and it gave me time to think. I skimmed through Myths of Sheogorath again, unable to truly focus on the words.

Two sides of the same coin. Split, like so much of my life, between extremes. Between poor and wealthy, family and prisoner, never quite fitting in. Mother or murderer, killer or lover.

The door opened as he returned, and I slid the book under my pillow.