Sybil took a deep breath as she stood in front of the door to Channary's study, her hand raised, reluctant to knock. Even though the queen had made it clear that she was welcome anytime, Sybil always felt victimized in her presence, despite having grown up with her. She knew Channary better than anyone—which wasn't a good thing.

She rolled her eyes. Cowardice was pathetic, and she wasn't about to give in to hers. Normally, she didn't really pay attention to what was going on between the sisters, for she had seen enough to know that it was wise to stay out of their drama. But the other times had been minor. The other times had never been bad enough for someone to die. They had never driven Levana to attempt suicide.

With a final breath, she brought her fist down on the door and knocked, biting down on her lip so hard that she nearly drew blood.

"Come in."

Even after all this time, the queen's voice still made the hair prickle on the back of her neck. Sybil pushed the door open, stepping soundlessly into the room, stopping for a moment to let her eyes adjust to the brightness. It was a large space, the walls a soft white with mahogany baseboards, the marble floor so smooth that she could see her own reflection in it. Two of the walls were covered with long, white shelves, each packed with books of every kind. Most people only read books on the net—owning physical ones was a great privilege, that only the most wealthy could afford—since real books had gone out of print for hundreds of years.

The most stunning feature, however, were the many crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. Though small, they were nearly blinding, twinkling all over the room. Channary had a weird phobia of the dark. She always slept by candlelight, and would only work in her study or solarium with her many bright lights. Ever since she was crowned queen, the days became longer—sometimes the domes would stay bright with artificial sunlight until eleven at night or so. Channary had no interest whatsoever in visiting Earth, but if she ever went, it would solely be for the warmth and sun.

The queen herself was seated at the large glass desk that lined the end of the room. The surface was littered with papers, pens and books, and a steaming teacup sat on the short platform in the corner. She clicked a few letters on her sleek keyboard, adding a few words to the many that already marked the document displayed on the screen.

"What do you need, Sybil?" Channary asked suddenly, her eyes darting across the open book to her right. "Don't twaddle around back there. Come closer."

Sybil gulped slightly. "My apologies, Your Majesty," she mumbled, walking over reluctantly.

The queen turned her head to look at her. "My apologies? You don't have to be so formal with me, Sybil. I mean, we're friends, right?"

Sybil's hesitant smile froze on her face, fear brewing in her gut. "Of course," she lied. Sybil had no idea what Channary's definition of a friend was; all she knew was that it was very, very different from her own.

"That's good." Channary swivelled her chair around so that she was facing her completely. "I've noticed that you've been a bit distant lately. Is there something on your mind?"

"Not at all."

"You're lying." Channary's smile turned to a pout. "You know that I hate it when you lie."

Sybil sighed, puffing her cheeks a little as she did so. "How is your shoulder, My Queen?"

The queen quirked an eyebrow. "My shoulder? It's doing fine, thank you." One of her hands came up absentmindedly to her pale skin, rubbing along where the scar would be under her glamour. "A bit of a random question, though. Why do you ask?"

"Just being polite, Your Majesty. You've seemed a bit stressed for the past few days. Is there something on your mind?"

"Quit stalling, Sybil."

The thaumaturge blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I know that you're just trying to avoid the reason why you interrupted my work in the first place. As you can see, I have a pretty hectic schedule today. You came here to ask me a question. What is it?" Channary tapped her spindly fingers against the pages of a book, impatient.

Sybil took a deep breath, twiddling her thumbs underneath her sleeves. "I'm worried about Levana."

Channary's lip curled sightly in disgust at the very mention of her sister's name. "You are? Why?"

"She hasn't been well for the past month, and she just tried to kill herself, as you know." Sybil frowned. "And she was freaking out when touched by Sir Hayle. What's that all about?" Her nose scrunched in frustration, trying to come up with an answer. She had a faint idea, but there was no way that it could be true. Channary would've never let it happen—although she wasn't about to put it past her. "And why would you make him, of all people, her personal guard?" She continued. "I'm sure that there are dozens of men that are much more qualified for the position."

A sly grin spread across the queen's face, full of malice and, strangely enough, amusement. "She won't tell you?"

"No, Your Majesty."

A soft chuckle. "Of course not. After you took Saito's body away, Levana was still being an insolent little brat. And do you know what you're supposed to do with little brats?" Her eyes met Sybil's. "Punish them. I let Evret carry out the punishment, though. He has the ability to destroy her in ways that even I can't."

Sybil's brow furrowed. "I still don't understand."

"Just think, Sybil. This is a guessing game," Channary said in a sing-song voice. "I couldn't do what he did because I'm not a man."

Not a...man? Sybil's eyes widened. It finally clicked, her horror and revulsion quickly showing on her face as her impossible doubts were confirmed. "You didn't."

Channary smiled, bringing a dainty finger to her lips. "You got it, then. Smart girl."

"Why?"

"Because she deserved it. The little leech has been nothing but a thorn at my side ever since she was born, but I much prefer spawned. A parasite that's good for nothing more than irritating people to death."

Sybil was rendered speechless. "You..." Tears of hatred and fear pooled in her eyes, and her hands balled into fists. The horror was quickly replaced with fury. "How could you do such a thing?!"

Channary laughed. "You're acting like it's bad, Sybil. Admit it. It's hilarious."

"You're sick," Sybil spat. "Nothing but a monster."

The queen pressed her lips together in a thin line. "You know, that's exactly the kind of talk that will get you stripped of your title and banished to the asteroid belt. We wouldn't want that, now would we? You're quite a pleasure to have around." Channary cocked her head ever so slightly. "Well, most of the time."

Sybil's blood boiled, and it took every bit of her willpower to avoid jumping on Channary and strangling her to death. Breathe in, breathe out. One, two, three. The age old mantra spun around in her head, words that she had been taught as a child to control her anger, so many years ago. A violent one, she was. Always getting in trouble for hitting and kicking other students when they crossed her.

Channary took a sip of her tea. "Why do you even care, anyway? You usually find this hilarious."

"This is too far, Channary." It was one of the few times that Sybil had ever addressed the queen by her name, and she did not like the way it rolled off her tongue. "Do you even realize what you've done? I understand that you don't like her, or that you even downright hate her, but to go as far as having her raped?"

Channary raised an eyebrow, expectant. She seemed completely unfazed at Sybil's words, which only served to anger the thaumaturge further. "Your point being?"

"Levana is your sister. Your own blood. How would you feel if she had done this to you? If she had betrayed you like that?"

The queen scrunched her nose. "I wouldn't care. It's just rape; she'll get over it eventually."

"Just like you have?"

Silence filled the room for a moment. Channary's playful expression became as hard as stone, her grin melting into an ugly frown. "What did you say?"

Sybil gulped, afraid, but still holding her own. "She'll get over it, like the way you got over what Alexander had done to you?"

The teacup in the queen's hand cracked in her grip. Sybil jumped back, barely missing the steaming hot tea and glass shards that flew as the cup shattered. "Never utter that disgusting name again. That was years ago, and it is to stay in the past," Channary sneered, her right eye twitching. "My father dealt with him accordingly."

"You know how it feels," Sybil continued on, as if the queen's outburst had never happened. "You know what it's like. Now imagine Levana's pain. She has no one to help her. The one person who she would be expected to trust is the one who allowed this to happen—you. How could do that, knowing how much it hurts? Do you even have anything resembling a heart, Channary?"

Channary wrapped her hand around her forearm, trying to soothe the pain of the scalding tea that was most likely burning her skin. "I don't give a damn. The little bitch can rot in the dungeons for all I care."

"This isn't fair. The fact that you're the queen doesn't give you the right—"

"Sybil, I thought I said that I don't care about her," Channary interrupted. "Now, it would be a complete shame, but if you don't leave right now, I will have you deported to the other side of the solar system."

Sybil's hands clenched into fists. "Fine. Be that way. You may have all the cards now, Channary, but one day it will come back to haunt you. And when it does, you'll regret it."

The queen pointed a finger towards the door. "Leave," she said in the darkest, most threatening voice she could manage.

Sybil spun around and walked double time to the exit, not wanting to spend another minute with the crazy witch.

"Oh, and Sybil? You are not to approach Evret about this incident at all. You will not harm him. If you do, I will kill not only you, but Levana as well. Stay out of this. It doesn't concern you."

Said woman stopped for the briefest of moments before continuing out the door. She slammed it shut behind her, not even caring if she angered the queen further. Channary's words registered in her mind, but she was too worried to feel angry. Levana was her first priority right now. She would deal with Evret Hayle later—even though she wasn't allowed to confront him directly, she would make sure that he got a little taste of her revenge.

He would pay in due time.

There was no sound coming from behind the door to the princess' bedroom by the time Sybil made her way there. She grasped the handle and opened the door carefully, trying to be as quiet as possible in case Levana were still asleep. It was a good thing that the doors of the palace didn't creak, whether they were made of metal, glass or wood.

She froze, though, as she noticed Levana sitting up on her bed, the covers still done neatly, not a pillow out of place. Her hair was a bit messy, though—so she did sleep a bit. The scratching of pencil against paper filled the room as she doodled in one of her many sketchbooks, a large leather-bound pad that was as black as night with little stars on the outside cover. The princess' gaze flit upward for a second, taking in the person before her.

Feeling like a deer caught in headlights, Sybil smiled sheepishly, putting her hands behind her back. "Oh. You're awake."

Levana ignored her, looking back down and resuming her endless assault on the paper.

Despite her radiating coldness, Sybil persisted. "How was your nap?"

Obviously irritated, Levana peered up over her sketchbook, the pencil still flying across the page. "What do you want now?"

"I came to say hello."

Levana just looked at her, scrunching her nose in confusion, as if her words were jumbled.

Sybil sighed. "Oh, come on! I just thought we could, you know, hang out," she said, smiling nervously.

"Hang out?"

"Yeah. Like friends."

The princess scoffed, diverting her attention back her drawing. "Haven't you heard? I'm Princess Levana, the freaky loner." She rolled her eyes. "I don't do friends." Her voice was low and threatening—however, it didn't deter Sybil like it should have.

"I don't believe that." The thaumaturge came to sit next to her on the bed, her back straight and posture perfect. She didn't notice Levana scooting further away, scribbling in her sketchbook. "Of course, to make friends, you have to get to know one another." Sybil put a hand to her chest. "For example, I like martial arts, and my favourite sport is rugby. What are your interests?" she asked, looking over to her reluctant companion.

Levana's brow furrowed. "Ignoring you," she said after a moment, rubbing her finger against the yellowed page. Sybil frowned, her perkiness wearing off.

"Look, I'm just trying to be friendly."

"I don't need your 'friendship', okay? I just need you to leave me alone," Levana barked, setting her pencil down. Sybil didn't listen, though—instead, she took the sketchbook from Levana's hands and gazed at the drawing on the page. Levana reached over, trying to grab it back from her. "Hey! Give that—"

"This is amazing," Sybil breathed, lightly running a finger down the lines and curves of the exquisite arctic wolf sketched on the paper. "You're really good. You should become an artist."

Levana snatched the book from her, cradling it to her chest. "It's none of your business."

"I'm sorry..." Sybil mumbled, suddenly ashamed. "I didn't mean to pry."

"It's nothing. I just need to be alone right now. Please, go away," Levana said, setting the sketchbook down on her bedside table.

"Is it true?"

Levana sniffed. "What?"

Sybil put both hands on her shoulders, making the princess face her. "Did he hurt you? Did Evret...rape you?"

Levana tensed up and her eyes widened, as if Sybil had just dropped a rock on her head. The very mention of the word brought tears to her eyes, and they started falling down her cheeks, one by one, until they turned into endless waterfalls, never stopping. Her breath came out in hiccups, and she was sure that her face was all red and puffy. Her chest began to hurt again, but she ignored it. She couldn't even respond, just wishing that she could curl up and die, like the miserable, hopeless wretch that she was.

"He did," Sybil said. It wasn't a question, but an undeniable truth. "Levana..."

"NO! STAY AWAY FROM ME!" Levana screamed, tearing Sybil's hands away and moving up as far away as she could, all the way to the headboard of her bed. All the pillows around her went flying.

Sybil winced. She was doing the exact opposite of what she wanted to do. The goal was to make Levana feel better, not freak her out.

Great job, Mira.

"Hey, Levana, please calm down..." Sybil scooted a little closer, slowly so to not scare her any more than she already had. "I don't mean you any harm. I just want to help."

"No, you don't!" Levana hiccuped, nearly choking on her own air. "You just like seeing me upset! Do you get your kicks from watching me cry?"

"Why haven't you told anyone? You really shouldn't keep this bottled up, Levana. It's destroying you. You need help."

"How would you know? You've never gone through these things. You have no clue how it feels to be alone, all the time. You have everything going for you, Sybil—there are people out there who would actually cry for you if you died."

Sybil gaped at her, obvious disbelief on her face. "Me? You think that I have a perfect life?" An incredulous laugh escaped her, but she caught herself once she noticed Levana's glare. She took a deep breath. "I've never really told anyone—but I've been depressed, too. For a long time." Tears began to form in her eyes. It was rare for her—she hardly ever cried. "My family hated me. To them, I was nothing more than a burden. My brother once told me that our parents considered drowning me when I was born."

Levana rolled her eyes. "Join the club. Channary loved dunking my head in a bucket when I was three."

"Really?" Sybil ran a hand through her hair. "I've never heard that one before..."

Levana stared at her, clearly less than impressed. "Do you and Channary just sit around and talk about how pathetic I am, laughing about all the ways you've both tortured me? How fun that must be."

Sybil's smile faded. "No. We don't," she mumbled, picking at the large sleeve of her coat. "When we were kids, it was mostly me waiting on her hand and foot. Or making me go with her to the catacombs—you must know how nasty it is down there."

"Oh, yes. The smell of dead bodies is quite lovely, isn't it?" Levana replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

The thaumaturge sniffed. "It was disgusting." She rolled her eyes. "Channary also made me play dress up, which sucked, because most of her dresses were so tight and fancy—it makes my skin crawl just thinking about it."

Levana scoffed. "I know, right? She's so skinny—I sometimes wonder if she's anorexic. It wouldn't surprise me."

"Or bulimic—she eats so many chocolates, it would be impossible to stay so thin when you stuff your face that much."

They both broke out in laughter, girlish giggles echoing throughout the room. The fact that it was at Channary's expense made all the more funny, and for the first time in a while, a warm glow lit up Levana's face—for real. It wasn't just her glamour. Sybil noticed, and her laughter drifted away, as she took in the sight of Levana smiling. A real, genuine smile.

She thought it was beautiful.

It took Levana a moment to realize that she was laughing on her own. "What?" She asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Nothing. It's just that, well...I like seeing you happy. It's nice." Sybil picked at the embroidered runes on the end of her sleeve. "You have a really beautiful smile."

Levana blushed slightly. "As if," she muttered. "Nothing about me is beautiful."

"Don't think so low of yourself. You really are beautiful—anyone with half a brain can see that."

"I guess I only have half a brain, then."

Sybil reached out and grasped her arm, squeezing gently. "Levana, you are worth so much more than what Channary makes you believe. I only wish that I could've seen that when we first met."

"Then why does everyone hate me so much?" Levana whimpered, tears running down her cheeks. "You're wrong, Sybil. No one cares. No one ever will. I'm better off dead."

Sybil's face broke into a quivering smile. "You aren't alone anymore. I'll be your friend." Her hand ran down Levana's arm until it grasped her own, holding it tightly. It was her right hand, the cyborg one, but this time, Sybil didn't flinch. She held as if it were made of skin and bone, not metal and wires. "You don't need to die."

Levana turned her head to face her, sniffling softly. Before she could say another word, though, she gagged, putting a hand to her mouth, about to be sick.

"Are you going to throw up?" Sybil asked in alarm, holding her upright by the shoulders. Levana nodded frantically, pushing her out of the way and storming off to the bathroom, lest she be sick right on Sybil's lap. The thaumaturge followed right behind her, dropping to her knees beside Levana as she threw up the entire contents of her stomach into the toilet. Sybil held her hair up so that it didn't get dirty and rubbed small circles on her back in a feeble attempt to comfort her.

Once she finished, Levana righted herself, breathing deeply to avoid choking on her own saliva and tears. Sybil continued to rub her back, giving her a moment to recover. "Are you done?"

"Yes, I think so," Levana whispered, her voice hoarse. She raised her sleeve, about to wipe her mouth, when Sybil stopped her, handing over a tissue.

"I don't think you want vomit all over your sleeve, Princess."

Levana grimaced, wiping the tears from her eyes and the dribble from her lips and chin. "Thank you."

Sybil said nothing, helping her up gently and throwing away the dirty tissue at the same time. Levana limped over to the sink, splashing water over her face, trying the wash the acidic taste of vomit from her mouth. As she did so, Sybil stayed back a bit, mulling over her reflection in the mirror on the wall. She had never owned one bigger than a compact, and she rarely even took it out of the suitcase that she had brought from home. It was her mother's and she meant to return it to her—but never got the chance, after she cut off all ties with her family at age sixteen.

"What are you looking at, Sybil?" Levana took her by surprise as she snuck up from behind.

Sybil shook her head. "Nothing. Just daydreaming," she chuckled.

"Oh."

An awkward silence fell over them. "So, what was that about? Bad meat at lunch?" Sybil inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Levana looked crestfallen, wrapping her arms around her middle. She bit her lip, feeling like she was about to cry, again. "No."

"Maybe the flu, then? Or is it the drugs? When I got my tonsils removed, the drugs they knocked me out with made me sick for three days. I couldn't hold anything down, not even water. Or maybe—"

"I'm pregnant."

"Or you're preg—wait, what!?" Sybil shouted, her head whipping around at breakneck speed.

"I'm pregnant, Sybil. He got me pregnant," Levana put her hands over her eyes, sobbing. Her knees buckled beneath her, and Sybil barely managed to catch her limp form before she hit the ground. Levana continued to cry, even as Sybil set her down gently so that she was seated on the heated floor. "Channary won't let me abort it. If I do, she'll probably torture me more, or even kill me..."

Sybil took her into her arms, holding her close. "I can't believe this...they're so evil, the both of them. Absolute demons." She felt like she was about to cry herself. "Levana, she has no right to say what you can and can't do. This is your body."

"It doesn't matter," Levana whimpered. "I tried talking to the doctors about it, but they wouldn't tell me anything; they didn't have to. If they went through with it, Channary would kill not only me, but them as well. They would never risk that, even to put me out of my misery. Because no one cares about me."

"I do. I care. Don't ever tell yourself the opposite, because it isn't true." Sybil ran a hand through Levana's hair, trying to tame it. "I promise that I'll be with you every step of the way. You're not alone anymore."

"But Channary—"

"She can say what she wants. I swore my loyalty to the crown, but even I have to break the rules sometimes." The thaumaturge smirked. "I'm sure she'll survive with one person taking care of you, instead of leaving you to suffer."

Levana sniffed. "No matter what you do, I'll be suffering anyway."

"The hurt won't go away. It never will. It can only fade with time, overshadowed by the good and joyful things that are surely to come your way," Sybil said, not once letting go.

"You came up with that?"

Sybil waved a hand. "Nah, Aimery did. He's really big on mental health. If he wasn't a thaumaturge, he would most likely be a psychologist."

"Aimery Park? Isn't he a second tier?"

"Yup. And he's also my best friend. Really stubborn and rude at times, but fiercely loyal." Sybil winked. "You should've seen him at the final rankings. If it wasn't I who ranked first, he would've gone all up on the person who did otherwise. He was really going for the top." She shrugged. "But he's quite fond his job now."

"That's good, I guess." Levana pulled away, much to Sybil's surprise. She stood, stretching out slightly before limping out of the bathroom.

"Hey, where are you going?" Sybil stood as well, following behind her.

"Back to bed. I'm tired." Levana flopped down amidst the lush duvet and sheets, facing away from Sybil. "Good night."

"But it's only 4:30," Sybil said, checking the portscreen in her sleeve. "If you go to sleep now, you won't make it through the night. Besides, don't you want dinner in two hours?"

"I'm not hungry."

Sybil sighed. "Levana, if you don't eat, you'll never get better."

"I'll call for a maid to bring me something," Levana huffed. "Please, leave me alone. I just want to sleep right now."

The thaumaturge blew a strand of hair from her face in exasperation. "As you wish, Your Highness," Sybil said calmly, tucking her hands in her sleeves. Already, she felt detached form Levana. Using formal titles always made things seem colder, more emotionless. She hated her title. Being around her friends was always welcome—they were the few who would call her 'Sybil', not 'Thaumaturge Mira'.

She dipped into a curt bow before walking away, ready to leave. However, she was stopped at the door by a short white android that had snuck up behind her.

"Oh, it's you," Sybil said, putting her hands innocently behind her back. "I was just leaving."

The android rolled forward a little, blocking her path. "What were you doing here? Were you bothering her?"

"No!" Sybil exclaimed, feeling oddly defensive. "I was just helping. She wasn't feeling very well, so I helped her back here after lunch. Come to think of it, where were you?"

Akiho's sensor, which was black—a sign of agitation—lightened to the standard light blue. "I was charging. My battery drains really fast when I feel nervous. And, well, you know—with the incident and everything, I have enough anxiety for days."

Sybil raised and eyebrow. "You felt nervous?" The corners of her mouth twitched as she fought back a laugh. "You're very peculiar, you know. I mean that in the possible way," she added sheepishly as Akiho's sensor flashed. She didn't want to upset the android. If Levana could hear their conversation, she was doing a very good job of ignoring them, but Sybil didn't want to worry her by messing with Akiho.

"I know." Akiho's head lowered, as if in shame. "Stupid glitches."

"For the record, I think you're really cool."

"Thank you," Akiho replied. "You're not bad yourself. Thanks for saving Levana, by the way. It was a really brave thing you did, diving into that scary-looking water."

Sybil chuckled slightly. "Oh, it was nothing—just really cold. As a part of our training, we had to jump from great heights and rescue others in dangerous conditions, so it was no big deal."

"But seriously, though. Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without her. She's my only friend."

"A really good friend she is," Sybil said. "And I promise that I'll help her, Akiho. It won't something like this happen again."

Akiho cocked her head. "Help her? You mean that you...know?"

"Yes. I know." Sybil felt a weight in her chest. "I feel so bad. I wish that I could just kill him, and Channary. They both deserve to die."

"When you do, call me. I'll be glad to help. And if I see that monster in the halls or even in here, I'll give him the what-for."

"You know about her personal guard?"

The android crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah. Even when I'm charging, I can hear and see what's going on."

Sybil blinked. "That's really interesting."

"I guess." Akiho suddenly opened her arms wide. "Friendship hug?"

"You want to give me a friendship hug."

"Yeah. We're friends now!" Akiho chirped.

Sybil laughed, pulling the android into a hug. It was a bit awkward, with her being so tall. Her back bent over, she held on tight to the small robot, the one that could feel emotion. The one that was more human that some people she knew.

Never in her life had she ever thought an android, of all things, could mean so much to someone. Akiho was all Levana had. At least up until then.

From then on, Sybil swore that she would be there for her.

No matter what.