"Check."

Hunched over the board, he laid his elbows on his crossed legs. Cushioning his elbows and resting. Focused and relaxed, he carries himself with a cool expression. Wearing an odor of pine soot and saltwater. He holds his hand up to his chin, strokes the growing stubble underneath.

Switching his awaiting smirk to a irritated grin.

"Hey, what's taking you so long?"

"Hrph."

The board scrapes wood together. A whistle stops me.

"No, no. Pawns don't move that- hey, wait," He shakes his head and takes the piece from my hand, putting it back, "I just taught you how this worked."

"I don't know."

"Maybe if you paid attention, you could pick up the game instead of wanting to go out and fight all day."

Slapping the floor, I shove a finger up against his shoulder. Digging into his sleeveless shirt.

"This is boring shit!"

I stand up and was about to kick the board, but he grabs my leg. Yanking me down, I lose my balance and try to punch his face. Suddenly, lose my breath and hit the floor.

He's on top of me and I wheeze. Arm against my neck, I try to kick with my feet. They are tightly kept under a knot of his own legs. Feeling the awkward bend of my right arm, I try to punch with my left fist. Get a few hits in. He mashes my shoulder into the ground and shoves my arm back to my side.

"Screw you!"

"No, you!"

"I don't give a damn about chess!"

He puts pressure on my neck. I buckle.

"You need to go down, Nidd!" He shouts at me. And I boil.

"Fu-" My head taps against the floor, I groan, "No, get off me!"

"He was giving you an order!" Again, he shouts at me, "It was simple. He wants you to do something that doesn't mean you destroy, kill, or punch! You're too angry and violent!"

"N-no!" I bite back, "I d-don't…want to!"

He groans loudly into my ear, "Kommadant's orders. Come on, count to five."

"No!"

He groans again, pinning me down, "You got no choice, bro! You stop acting like a maniac and calm down."

"Hmmmph!"

"Fine! You are going to stay like this until you stop."

I grit my teeth so hard I want it to hurt my jaw. He always does this. Siding with them and making me do things I don't want to do. I want to fight. Hit things. Yeah. Hit things with my stuff. I don't care about resting or doing dumb shit like sitting at a table all day. I want to get up and hit him.

"Nidd!"

My arm hurts more. I bite my bottom lip. Its hurting more.

"Count damn it!"

"…fine!"

I spit on the wooden floor.

"That's not counting, bro!"

He twists it.

"Okay, okay!" I yell, wiggling my fingers, "One!"

I don't want to follow through. I don't want to follow through.

"Nidd?!" He yells, a little softer, "I can't hear you."

My brother twists more, "O-okay! Okay! One!"

"And?"

In ragged breaths, I breathe through my nose. Then out my mouth and repeat. Twice. Three times. Four times. I still want to punch him.

"Next!"

"Two!"

I do it again. Breathe in, breathe out. Twice. Three times. Four.

"…Three."

He's not shouting anymore. Okay. Okay. One. Two. Three. Four.

"Four…"

He loosens. What was happening again? Breathing, right. Breathing. One, two, three, four.

"…Five."

He lets go of me. I roll onto my back and cough. Some of my spit went down my throat and I hack into my arm. Winded, sore, and in pain. I lie there, looking up at the ceiling.

He crawls next to me and lays on his back. His stupid smirk comes back, a little less happy.

"Nidd…why do you have to be like this?"

"…chess is dumb." I pant softly, "I hate this."

"No, you hate being off the water," he chuckles and reaches under my shoulder. I didn't feel it until he pulls out a horse looking chess piece.

"You just have to be this difficult," he waves the thing over my face, dangling it like a treat to an animal, "Man, why can't you stay still? Its not hard to play this game."

"I don't get it." I stop breathing loudly and just waves my arms in the air, "You move funny looking pieces and play with them on a stupid board. I like being out there instead. Feeling the water, moving around on my feet, its better!"

"Hey, you would have been fine if you didn't tell him to 'fuck off'. You know how the officers get when you talk back to them."

"I don't care," I try to nab the piece but he pulls it back, "I'm tired of them telling me what to do."

"Hey," he stops smirking. I look over to see him put the piece down near my face, he gets up and points at my shoulder this time.

"What's up?" He says, "Kommadant Winkler was trying to tell you to take a break…you aren't usually this easy to set off. What gives?"

"…I don't want to tell you." I roll to my side, "The officer can stuff it too."

"Liar," he growls at me, "God, you like Winkler. He's the only guy you actually listen to besides Yggdrasil. We've served with him for years; you don't hate someone like that without a good reason."

I see him lean back on his hands, "This is about his promotion, isn't it?"

Going back on my back, I look at the ceiling again.

"Yeah." The cracks on the ceiling is really interesting, "He's leaving us, after everything we went through? Cozy desk job in Berlin..."

"Seriously, this is all you had to say Nidd," he picks up some of the pieces spread out on the floor, "Can't you talk instead of blow up like that? Why do I have to always fight you to get your ass in line?"

"…sorry." The ceiling really looks more interesting, "I'm not…good with this."

He sighs and scoots away. Crawling around to pick up pieces scattered around the floor. He means well I know he does. I don't honestly know what's going on with me right now and why I'm feeling the way I do. Somehow, this freak with a stubble does. After all he's my brother.

"Winkler did say," I hear him pick up the board, "After the tests, we were going to come out differently. I guess you were one of the angry ones."

He has a point, and I don't want to admit it. Sitting up, I take up more pieces underneath me. One more horse thing and a pointy head piece. A knight and a queen, I think. Why does it matter? I'm not familiar with the game and I don't want to be. But he likes to play, and I don't see why.

"I don't know, I guess," I hand the pieces over to him, already setting it back up, "Don't see the point why you always sit us down like this…"

"Every time we play chess you get frustrated," he snaps at me while rolling his eyes, "And every time you get physical. Sitting at a table will only cause more property damage."

"What? Its not my fault I'd rather be active. You should try it."

"All you do is take up more missions and spar people until you bruise," he pokes me with the queen piece I gave him, "You're stupidly reckless. The three of us wanted to get you into a hobby requiring less physical and violent means."

"I can't be that bad…"

He smacks me up the back of my head.

"Hey, what the hell!" I grit my teeth again, "That one hurt, jackass!"

"That's for forcing me to pin you down…again," He's looking directly at me now, "When was the last time you felt calm?"

"What? Are you my therapist?"

"You punched the last one so I say no," he pinches his nose, "Okay, think about this. When was the last time you actually sat down, stopped to think, and not go out fighting. And don't use the sleeping pods as an excuse. They don't count. Everyone gets knocked out once we get in those."

"Does it matter?" I hold my hands up confused.

"It does."

He won't stop staring me down. I know he's annoyed with me, maybe annoyed, but I don't care what he thinks. I like how I am. Sure, those chemicals they pumped in me is really messing with my sleep and head…I mean, I can be calm right? Yeah, I can be calm.

"Lunch," I answer him, "I can sit down and eat food."

"Nope, you were responsible for the last mess hall fight and the two previous ones before yesterday." He shakes his head, "Try again."

"The bathroom?"

He snorts, loudly.

"I heard you taking a shit, that doesn't count." He slowly grins. I snort too. Okay, he's right on this one.

"Alright maybe waiting in the port for our next mission," I shrug my shoulders, running out of ideas, "I take my time before the sortie and prepare myself; I don't think I really feel angry. I just feel excited."

"I think I see where the wires are crossing here," he stops picking the pieces and starts putting the board back up, "I'm asking when was the last time you really sat down and didn't feel the need to fight or get your blood pumped? I doubt you even know what it means to 'chill out', so to say."

"…Hey, I know what that means," I scratch my head and stop, "You said 'three of us'. I get Winkler but who's the third?"

"…that would be me, Níðhöggr."

Stepping out of the hallway down to our room in the dorm, I have to do my best not to flinch.

"Yggdrasil?!" I gulp, and glare at my brother, "Jorg, what is this?"

"An intervention," the Yggdrasil kneels down and sits with us. Without his regalia and armor, I find it hard to see him in a pair of sweatpants, "Thanks for the extra clothes, the last attack on the harbor destroyed my quarters, I didn't have time to head out and procure extra provisions."

"No sweat," Now I'm glaring at both of them, my brother raise his eye brow maybe to annoy me, "He's right, we needed to step in and curb your violent behavior."

"Am I really this bad?"

"Yes." They answer in unison.

I stare at them for a long time. My brother has been with me since we both joined the navy. Neither one of us can really recall what our lives were like before. All we knew we had each other. Yggdrasil came in and kept this little trio going.

These are my friends and family. Who else am I going to rely on?

I considered Jorg's words. When is the last time I really calmed down.

"Think of it like this, Nidd," my brother reaches over and picks up a piece, "This is your king. You know Winkler, right?"

"I do, yes."

"You protect Winkler, correct?"

"What kind of stupid question-"

"Níðhöggr, heyra."

He speaks the word, even Jorg tenses up. Upon hearing and taking Yggdrasil's command, I nod dutifully. He's serious, my brother's serious, and if Winkler can see me he'd probably be smiling.

Right, right. Listen, fine.

"Yes, I do," I grumble a little, "It is my duty to protect him, my fleet, and those around me. I am part of the vanguard after all."

"Then you see this piece?" He puts it back down on the empty spot he took it from. White porcelain like colors stand out like the charcoal black across from it.

"These pieces are pawns," He points at the first row, " These are rooks," then the castle towers on the corners, "Knights," the horses, "Bishops," the strange curvy pieces with a cut through them, "And finally…"

He shows me the pointy piece from early.

"The Queen," I murmur before he could.

"Good, so you know them."

"Yeah, I do. I don't quite care." Half of this confusing nonsense does make sense. How they look at me expectedly...I really don't want to disappoint this time.

"I give up," I relax, still jittery, "I'll do this."

I point at the both of them, "You better get me a pretty good mission after this. Make sure there's enough Sirens for me to hit for a few hours."

Yggdrasil laughs, he had an aura of life around him that even made me smile, "I'll make sure of it, now then, I would like to see you two play. I haven't seen Jormungand play anyone else but me. Rarely do I have a chance to see him use what I taught him."

My brother sticks his tongue out, "You suck."

"You play too?" I ask, not knowing the Tree of Life's hobbies. Being a flagship does mean he has other responsibilities.

"Play? More than you know," He nods sagely, "Who knows, I did make it to nationals in my home country of Vinland. Almost made grandmaster."

Both my brother and I stop what were doing or going to do. We're in the same house as an experienced player. He doesn't seem surprised only tired.

"Don't give me that look get back to the game, I want to see you skirmish."

"Skirmish, huh?" I scratch the back of my head again, "Like a battle right…"

"Right on course!" Yggdrasil cheers me on, "Beat your brother, I believe you!"

"Ygg, I don't know if you mean me or him, and I already know who's winning this one…"

"Hush you."

Cracking a smile, I get back in my previous position. This can't be half bad. Spending time with my brother and friend, two people who have been in the thick and thin.

Even if I don't quite understand what's on this checkered board.

The dream came and I remembered all of it.

Tucking Graf Zeppelin in my own bed, I made sure she hugged my pillow. Did not know she's like this in her sleep. Quite the cute secret. Into the evening, I woke up to the fading sunlight. Sleeping together for the time.

I have to thank her for bringing me back to my bed after my rather emotional 'episode'. With the weight off my chest and a pep in my hobbled step, I search for things outside my room. Stomach growling and frankly very thirsty.

Waiting for me, standing in an apron over the stove is familiar someone.

"Mother?"

"My child?"

She turned around, a piece of toast in her mouth. Putting down the spatula and placing the bread on a small plate, she turns the stove on low. From what I can tell, she's cooking sausage I keep in the fridge.

Turning over to me, I shrink, "Friedrich, I…I don't know where to start. I-"

She holds her arms open wide. Both blinking at each other, I get the message and go into her arms. Hugging her back in what feels like ages. She's so warm.

"You forgive me?" I whisper to her, "I thought you'd be disappointed with me."

"I was only worried," she rubs the back of my head, "My child, I was hurt because you couldn't trust me. After all we have been through together and had together, your withdrawal scared me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't. Enjoy the moment."

For a while we stood there, hugging. Until the sausage sizzled on the stove, which meant we gently part.

"Go ahead and go to the dining room. You know what awaits you there."

"A meal?"

She shakes her head before wielding her spatula again, "Not yet, my child. Chess."

I chuckle and walk over finding the open board and chair waiting for me. A cooled glass of water, I can tell the others have been here. Odin's covered painting are still in the living room, Mainz left her saber on the seat. Maneuvering their items and effects, I made myself comfortable at the table. Not sure about the water, I elect to ignore it until a plate comes around in front of me. A simple meal, toast, sausage with jam on the side. More than enough for me.

"You can drink the water, I apologize if the ice cubes melted."

"Don't worry, I don't mind," I take a big gulp, "Thank you."

"I wasn't sure when you'd get up," Friedrich mentions, bringing out her own serving, "But I knew when the screaming never came, the peaceful sleep had finally come."

"Screaming, huh," I bite a piece of the toast and cut the sausage, "I didn't know I did that still."

"I thought you'd stop a couple years ago," she says between bites, "Winkler told me. You have flare ups in your metabolism and your hormones are all wrong."

"…yeah," I swallow a piece of jammed bread, "In order to become a prototype, I had to receive chemical injections. I reacted well to most of them besides the increased aggression and sudden bouts of depression. I didn't want any of you to worry, I normally can handle this on my own…but lately, stress is getting to me."

"Winkler also mentioned you require high physical activity to keep your body in check," Friedrich scrapes her knife a little harder, "I really wished you told me this. We could've given you the proper care."

"You all already take up so much responsibilities," I point my fork at her, "What more can I keep throwing at you...No, I can't deny it. He is right. I thought I can keep it in check by walking and doing a little tinkering in my little workshop. I guess at one point my drive dried up and I stopped liking chess and…it fell apart from there."

She hums. We eat more, finishing up our plates. I go ahead and take it to be washed, but she stops my hand.

"No, let me do it."

"I can handle washing dishes, mother." I still reach for her plate. She scoots it away.

"No, I want to," she gets up and takes my plate, "I can't have you be doing too much in your state. I still don't understand what you did to yourself, but I don't want you to exerete whatever strength you have left."

"Mother…" I want to object again, and her pleading eyes turn to one of growing fury. I sit back down in my chair with a sigh, "Go ahead."

"Thank you my child," she stops before heading to the sink, "How does your back feel? Do you need me to get you anything?"

"Not now," I rub the non-sensitive parts, "They feel much better. Maybe being around you girls keeps the pain away. Or whatever bandages or dressings were put on me, they seem to be working."

Friedrich nods, "Graf Zeppelin told me she had to use one of our repair kits. I didn't know they can work on you."

"She did?" I reach my hand around my back again. The bruise from earlier is gone and the two spots under my shoulder blades are less stinging to the touch. I also feel a new wrap of bandages.

"How long was I out?"

"The entire evening," she said pointing at a clock on the wall, "Now then, let me clean these."

Taking to her chores, I go back and rub my back. Equipment meant for kansen can work on me? There are many possibilities and new revelations about this. Bothering and exciting, I wasn't sure how to take to this. I'll have to call Winkler about this. I never knew this was something we could go through.

Friedrich returns and I sit back to see the board. Black was facing me time. As she sits down, I stop her from rotating the board.

"No, let me play black this time," I tell her, "Not my usual style, but I have a good feeling this time."

"…very well."

The match begins and her moves are immediate.

Pushing forward, she Out of depth and not used to playing black, I follow through and face her pawn with my king's very own. Their face off is overshadowed by her bishop's side step to my right. Threatening my pawn next to my king, I move a knight from right flank, thinking she's aiming for my pawn. My guess is correct when she moves her queen over…

"Early to use your queen, mother?"

She giggles wordlessly.

With her queen hanging over my left flank, directly across from my extended pawn, I make my plans. Aiming for her pawn, I move my second knight forward to threaten it. She moves next.

"Checkmate."

Can't be.

"No?" She took my pawn put her queen diagonal to my king. This can't be.

It is. I can't move my knights over to help nor move my pawns up. The bishop. Her white bishop kept me pinned in.

Four moves.

She won.

"…wow," I keep retracing it, "You won. It is checkmate."

"Yes, my child," her smile grows wider, cheekier, "What was the name for this one? Quite famous isn't it?"

"Scholar's Mate…" Shaking my head, it all falls through, "For you, Children's Mate."

She breaks out in a deep laugh, "Fitting, my child."

Blinking more, I don't respond initially. Letting the defeat sink in and register for me. I haven't lost in awhile and here, I don't mind it. She's beaten me before and now?

"It is, right?" I put the pieces back in place, "I'm so glad Mainz and Odin aren't here to watch this. The little battlecruiser will give me so much flak."

"You're taking this well," she holds my hand, squeezing her fingers around them, "Usually, I'm used to seeing you be a sour sport."

She's right. Losing is not what I do in chess. I wonder if my dream from earlier has some factor here. Nevertheless, I don't mind the outcome this time.

"You could say, there's more things I'd rather not lose," With my other hand, I fiddle with my queen piece, "These past few days have shown me. I may not win them all, and you know I don't. Who knows. There may be a greater victory waiting for me out there."

"We'll win the war," she offers to me, "For them."

"For them." I nod thoughtfully, happy to see I can agree with the statement, "This time we will win it. We won't lose."

I can say it confidently now. Not, maybe we can win this. Instead, we will win this and we can. There's hope still left in this war even if I'm stuck behind a desk.

"Rene, I think I've come to a decision."

"Decision?" I put down my queen, "I'm listening."

"I think its time we lifted the combat ban, meaning you will be able to come back with us on sorties," she lets go my hand and brings them up to herself. Her sweater is cushioning her elbows resting on the table. Forming a pyramid with her fingers, she supports her head on two of them, "With the veil lifted, it is time we apply your expertise to the field."

"I," I swallow the dryness, "Really?"

"Yes," she holds up her hand, "Under three conditions."

"You keep to your flagship's hulls and only leave due to battlefield conditions and circumstances. If we tell you specifically to retreat, you will. And lastly, you can only sail directly, if we are in the most dire of situations."

I nod and listen, "Wait, does that mean…" Inquiry turns into pleading, the excitement comes up, "I can use my rigging again?"

"My child…" she sighs, her grin lessens as she sees my face, "Okay. For emergencies, yes. It would be reasonable to make sure you are ready if the time arises. We can arrange for practices with some of the girls on base."

I smile as quickly as I got up, "Thank you! Finally, thank you!"

Tensing up at the pain in my back, "…after I get more rest and healing."

"You will go to Nurnberg tomorrow with a medical examination, monthly check-ups, and an wisdom cube evaluation," she chimes in, "And have Adalbert fix your rigging. Not to mention-"

"Right, right," I dismiss her, "I get it, mother. I'll follow through all of it."

"Including having one of us sleep with you?"

"Sleep with me?" Did I hear her correctly, "You mean, sleeping next to me?"

"Yes," she catches on to what she implied, "I assumed an officier like you have standards, I wouldn't be opp-"

"Right, right," I wave her off, trying to move the conversation ahead before this gets saucy, "Still, this is an odd condition."

"As you know," she starts again, voice stern, "I have been calling the Admiral about your wellbeing. You never told me you always had trouble sleeping, irregular bouts of insomnia and night terrors, as a result of your past testing. Only have I seen you rested whenever anyone's accompanied you. Until I'm sure you are ready, it is best to have someone with you."

"You can't be serious. I'm not a kid."

"Oh, I am." She leans forward, as if the deal's details have been made clear, "A youth, you are not. I may not have dwelled in this world as long as you, yet we both know you need more care. You are still my child, however, and I refuse to take anything else. It is either yes or no, no more compromise besides your 'retraining'."

None of it seems too much for me too handle. Being placed in command of the fleet's operations is already enough of a fulfillment for me. Added bonus of having the chance to practice again, to be out there on the waters, is a dream come true. All of them I agree to, except the last one. Having one of the girls over means I'll have to keep my room quarters tidy. Not to mention my depleting fridge stocked.

"Yes, with one more change."

"Rene-"

"Wait," I hold my hands up defensively, preparing my one counter point, "I only want to decide who sleeps in my quarters with me. I agree, my nightmares only really come when I'm alone. I'd rather not face the months of insomnia like this again. Three years of handling this is enough. Just let me choose."

"Hmm," Fredrich hums, tapping her fingers on the table for a pregnant pause, "Fine, it is a deal."

Sitting back in my chair, I let myself sink into it. So much stress in the past few days, so much pain to go through. There is weight removed my shoulders and chest. Stress unlike anything I've ever felt gone from my shoulders.

Barging through the front door, Mainz comes in carrying a bag. Odin follows suit with her painting stuff again.

"I brought snacks," She sees Friedrich first then notices me, "Kommadant? You're up?"

"Mainz, welcome back," I wave at them, "Odin, do you need help?"

"No thank you, actually-" the battlecruiser drops her things in the living. She heads over to me and sniffs me. Morphing from curious to disappointed.

"Uh, Odin?"

"Sir, I thought you and the nihilist carrier would've banged by now."

Palpable tension is broken by Mainz bag gracing the floor. Crinkling and clinking with bottles inside, with questionable confidence, I can say may have chipped whatever is inside. Her face aghast alongside Friedrich's amusement.

"Odin! We talked about this!"

She shrugs and looks back her unphased, "Hey, I lost money over them. Now I have to give my hard-earned cookie jar over to Strasser, smug twin-tailed know it all."

"Not to mention the other girls who have their money in the pot…"

"A pot?" I'm appalled and very curious. The coffee cruiser is far ahead of me in the shocked department. Bouncing back to an embarrassed fury the caffeine lover groans.

Mainz rubs hands over her face, "Nope, nope. I had to put up with Eugen and Tallinn. They already have their own pool going. I can't put up with you."

"She's right," a red head follows behind Odin through the still open front door, "Hey, Rene. Also, you owe me the share of the bets Odin and you still have a deal to keep, Mainz. You owe me big time."

Plopping onto one of the couches in the living room, Odin deflates. The battlecruiser pouts, folding her arms, "All of you are spoilsports. Maybe some of us wants to see them together."

"What is going on in here?" I hear a voice ask from the hallway. Rubbing her eyes with her messy hair, Graf Zeppelin grumbles, "Why is it so noisy? Rene? Why are you out of bed?"

"I-"…don't get to answer before Odin hops up.

"Wait, so you two did bang!" Showing more emotion than I expected from her, "Hah! I can keep my jar!"

"What, no, we simply slept next to each other," The carrier rubs her eyes, then grimaces, "Oh, its you. Odin, the nuisance."

Chills crawl up my skin, and I hear another new voice enter my not yet closed door. Giggling another familiar voice comes through, "Don't mind her, sister. My, it seems I might have to raise the stakes Odin, I'm rather curious to see how my sister's relationship evolves."

"Strasser!?" Graf Zeppelin is more awake then I can be at the moment, "Not you too!"

"Besides," she grows a concerning smile, "I heard you've been busy, hmm?"

"...I have no idea what you're talking about."

Strasser's quick stop almost sends me stumbling from how sudden her straight posture and disbelief, "Seriously? What? All those evening sessions I heard about with the Officer?"

The Officer? You mean me?

Graf Zeppelin has the same thoughts as me. I thought she would be the one to keep things down. I am proven wrong. Her tripping over words is not helping and the blushes forming on our faces, "We're friends…or at least this is how I think friends are."

Strasser, ever the good sister, scrutinizes her and tuts, "Really, Zeppy, don't be coy. 'Playing chess alone' and 'spending long evenings together'? Does this sound like 'just friends'. Ah! A better one, 'sitting outside watching the stars together' I knew you had it in you!"

"I…I don't think you understand-"

"-I mean, I thought it was hopeless to even get you to talk to anyone. The old man and I thought you'd never explore. No matter, I'm glad to see you can-"

"Strasser, wait-"

"-I've had experience with some, but to bag an officer? If I had my hat, I would applaud you! And you gained the confidant and close friend to Admiral Winkler of all people! The Defender of Berlin! I can't belie-"

"Strassy!"

Gulp back the little spit in my throat, my quarters devolve into a cacophony of conversation and siblings being siblings. Mainz and Weser argue over a deal including surfboard. Odin unpacks her art near one of my couches, grumbling about lost desserts and shipping. Graf Zeppelin and Strasser take their conversation to the corner of my living room with the occasional glance at me and embarrassment growing on the older sibling. In this madness, Friedrich does me a favor and closes the door behind Strasser.

'Thank you,' I mouth to her.

She nods, then walks over to pick up Mainz's bag to take it to the kitchen.

While it may be dark outside and early in the morning, I like the environment here. Watching them interact reminds me so much of my life before this base. Before I came to command and my old life with Jorgmmand and Yggdrasil.

Stuck in my chair, I feel someone wrap their hands over my shoulder. Lithe hands massage my shoulders as I stay more comfortable in my chair, watching the ever-blushing Graf Zeppelin argue with Strasser, this time their conversation is about the difference between a consort and a queen. Not quite following how they got here; the details don't matter.

It's the feeling that counts.

This is more than being calm.

Maybe, maybe I finally found my peace.