"Everyone is entitled to their own sorrow, for the heart has no metrics or form of measure.

And all of it… irreplaceable." - Monty Oum

Author: Trackhawk

Technical Editor: ShinraSorceress

Continuity Editor: Alucard45

Title Graphic: SirDarkvid

"The Indecisive King. The Four Maidens. The Girl Who Fell Through the World.

Mankind has grown quite fond of recounting tales of triumphant heroes and fallen villains,

Forgetting so easily that these stories they tell are merely the words written by the victors,

And that the victors are not always the hero." - Unknown

And that reality often fails to match the lies history tells us."

Icarus

It began with a man and his secret.

A secret that anywhere else, should have been taken with him to the grave. Yet much like Icarus before him, the man also seemed to revel in trying to get as close to the sun as he could. Tempting fate again and again with discovery despite all that he stood to lose.

He should have known better. Should have thought long and hard about the world he lived in. Remnant has never been so kind as to overlook an ironic twist of fate, and after tempting the gods so many times, failure for the man was not only unavoidable, but inevitable as the sun itself grew hotter and hotter with each passing day.

His fall, perhaps ironically, began with the birth of his second daughter. A day that should have been heralded as one of the happiest days of his life, despite the number of tears shed.

Willow choked back hot tears as the pain that wracked her body finally began to wane. It wasn't over – she knew that all too well after Winter's birth – but she took comfort in the joy that came from hearing her daughter's cries coming from the other end of the room, as the doctor and his aids' cleaned and saddled the newly born babe.

Jacques had convinced her to refuse the use of pain suppressants, lest something happened to their child. She had almost come to regret the decision. However, the pain and exhaustion had all culminated in a catharsis of such unmeasurable proportions, that when the wailing, partially swaddled bundle was finally handed to her, she had nearly passed out from the relief alone.

Perhaps she was mad, but with the comforting weight of her daughter now in her arms, every single excruciating moment of the last eleven hours seemed oh-so worth it. To look into the beautiful blue eyes of her second child, to listen as her cries petered off as her eyes slowly closed, to feel their steady breaths made all her struggles worth it.

She didn't notice the soft feeling of her child's back as she held her, nor did she hear the whispers and hushed voices of the doctor as she brought the bundle closer to her, and whispered her daughter's name through parched lips.

"Hello Weiss."

Willow glanced toward the door as it swung open, allowing her daughter Winter and her father Nicholas into the room. Both smiled brightly as they made their way to her bedside while Willow returned her gaze to her sleeping child.

She etched the moment into her memory. The only possible way the moment could be any more beautiful was if her beloved Jacques was here with them. To see his perfect daughter's first moments in—

A terrified wail tore her attention from her daydream to her first-born daughter as she scrambled back from the bedside, one hand gripped tight against her chest as she stared down the bundled baby with fear in her eyes.

"Winter? What's wrong dear?" Willow asked as she watched her eldest daughter hesitated for a moment before turning and bolting out of the room.

The familiar grip of anxiety clawed at her stomach as she glanced desperately around the room for answers. The two aides' reactions did not help: one nervously wet her lips, while the other's mouth flapped open and closed in a vain attempt to get any words out. Her anxiety sparked into a low anger as they fumbled to find their words; something was very wrong, and nobody seemed to be willing to speak up.

"Doctor…" Willow spoke carefully as she rocked the child in her arms. "Is this something that can wait until after?"

To his credit, Doctor Goodman was professional enough to quickly regain his senses, and cleared his throat. "Ah, forgive me Madam Schnee, I didn't mean to worry you. It is nothing pressing, I can assure you. My aides and I were simply surprised. We were unaware that you had, uh, Faunus lineage."

Willow looked up at the good doctor with a furrowed brow, watching as the Doctor poignantly shifted his gaze down to Weiss for a moment before he looked back up at her. Confusion gave way to concern as she looked down at Weiss once more. Her daughter looked perfectly human to her- What on Remnant was he talking-

Ice seeped into her veins and her thoughts ground to a halt as she finally felt the soft down on her newborn's back, and the small appendages that they attached to.

"I-I don't – what is-!?"

A myriad of emotions swirled through Willow's mind as Doctor Goodman gently reached over to take Weiss from her, motioning for the aids to move. Willow's eyes frantically darted between the staff and her father, who gave her a warm smile and motioned for her to breathe before being ushered out of the room, leaving her alone in a room full of people who barely knew her.

He would want to discuss this with her later, and she would likely face more than a few questions she didn't have answers for, but amidst the painful haze of the next hour, Willow's mind was dominated by a single thought: for all the times she had cursed him for working too much and forgetting his family…

Thank god Jacques was not here.

Far too quickly for her taste, Willow found herself rushed to a quiet room conveniently situated in an isolated corner of the manor. The moment she heard the click of the door, Willow rounded on the two men. "I did not cheat on Jacques!"

Silence was predictably their only response as Willow crossed her arms and glared at them, daring either of them to deny her statement. The two men shared a silent look. Nicholas nodded his assent as Doctor Goodman took a small step forwards, clearing his throat as he did.

"I uh… I understand that this is a difficult conversation to be having right now Missus Schnee. However, as you are no doubt aware, it requires at least one parent to be of Faunus descent for traits such as your daughter's to appear," the good doctor said slowly and deliberately. His thick accent betrayed his Mantelian heritage as he held up his clipboard and continued. "I have been reviewing both you and your husband's files, and as far as I can see, neither of you listed, reported or possess any documented Faunus traits."

Nicholas slowly pulled up a chair to sit next to Willow's bed, stifling a series of coughs, as Dr. Goodman wet his lips and spoke the words Willow knew were coming. "As such, there would appear to be only two possible scenarios here. Either one of you has been keeping something from the other… or…"

The implications alone had made it difficult to breathe, but now? With the good doctor spelling it out like this for her? Willow found it difficult to even think straight as her world was flipped upside down. Her father clearly noticed her discomfort, as he reached out to slowly stroke her arm. It was a thoughtful gesture, but not nearly enough.

"I… I have never been unfaithful," Willow rasped out, glancing towards her father with desperation clear on her face. "You have to believe me. I would never-"

"You do not need to convince me," Nicholas cut her off, bringing a fist up to stifle yet another cough before offering her soft smile and a firm pat on her hand. Willow found herself hanging her head in shame as he continued. "Come now. You're my daughter and honest to a fault. If you had been unfaithful, I would already know. The question, however, still remains. What should be done about this?"

"What should be…" Willow shook her head as she brought her gaze up to Doctor Goodman. "What can be done?"

"Yes, that is the question," the good doctor said as he eased the door open and ushered his two aides in. One of two women was smiling gently as she guided Winter into the room by her shoulder. "I took the liberty of having the nurses make sure word of this didn't get out."

Willow bristled at the implications of his words, but a rush of lightheadedness kept her from voicing her annoyance as she rubbed her eyes. "And by that you mean?"

"Finding your daughter before she said anything to your staff, preparing records, ensuring all of the… how shall we say… 'evidence' that needs to be taken care of is indeed taken care of. At the moment, we're the only ones in the building who know the truth of your daughter's heritage."

Nicholas and Willow shared a look, both knowing full well what the doctor was building to.

"Obviously, you have a tough decision ahead of you. However, the three of us are willing to offer our complete silence on the matter should you wish to keep your daughter's heritage… less than public."

Willow scoffed and shook her head. "Out with it. What is your price?"

"We wish to become your family's personal – and permanent – medical aids."

"I see…" Willow shot a glance at her father and received a soft gaze and shallow nod in response. Turning back to the doctor, she said, "I see no reason to deny your request. However, I will need to discuss this with my husband first. Should he approve of the offer, we will contact our lawyers to draft and finalize the paperwork."

"Yes. Please do," Doctor Goodman said with a smile as he nodded to his two aids. "We will continue to care for your daughter in the meantime. Please, do not hesitate to call for us for any reason, should you feel you require it."

"Of course," Willow said, nodding curtly and laying back in her bed as the doctor and nurses shuffled out of the room. "What is that Vacuan saying you're so fond of? Out of the sands and into the streets?"

Nicholas chuckled, his laugh deep and rumbling despite his age. "Indeed, though Doctor Goodman proved to be a hair less problematic than I might have expected."

"I suppose," Willow scoffed and closed her eyes. "We were quite lucky he hails from Mantle. I would hate to think what an Atlesian doctor might have asked for."

"Mm, quite lucky we didn't leave the manor as well," Nicholas agreed as he patted her hand, watching as Winter awkwardly stood stock still, right where the aid had left her. "Though I suppose we will have to see the ending to Lohengrin some other time."

"It really was quite lovely. Right up until I soiled the couch of course." Willow shook her head as she laughed, bringing a hand up to massage her forehead. "Honestly, three weeks early! Weiss is clearly a fan of opera. The tabloids will be rife with rumors, I'm sure."

"I'm sure it won't be any worse than when Gertrude had you."

Willow smiled as their chuckles petered off, leaving a heavy silence lingering in the air that was broken only by the quiet sound of her daughter shuffling over to her side.

"What do you plan to tell Jacques?"

An exhausted sigh escaped Willow. "The truth. Weiss is his daughter, and he deserves to be a part of any decision that will affect all our lives."

Her father gave her an amused grin. "Honest to a fault."

She just rolled her eyes at his antics as he turned to her daughter.

"Little Knight? Your mother needs to rest, so why don't we go see if there is anything delicious we can rescue from the dastardly freezers," he said as he got to his feet.

"Ok grandpa!" Winter shouted. Willow cracked an eye open to see her father holding her daughter's hand as she led him excitedly out of the room.

"Nothing too sugary," Willow called out after them as the light dimmed and the door clicked shut.

Nicholas chuckled at the sheer joy and wonder Winter radiated as she tore open the small blueberry popsicle he'd promised her on their way to the kitchens.

It was little moments like this that he found himself craving more and more. Moments of unashamed emotion that cut so easily through the droll, gray world that many Atlesians idealized. Or perhaps he was simply getting too old and nostalgic for simpler times, before floating cities and massive corporations.

"Grandpa?"

Nicholas blinked as Winter's words snapped him out of his musing. "Yes, Little Knight?"

Winter looked at her feet as she rocked back and forth. "Why is Weiss an animal?"

He quickly glanced around the kitchen to ensure there were no prying ears nearby before he turned back to his granddaughter. "An animal?"

Winter nodded, a small crinkle of concentration creasing her brow. "Like those scary people father says to avoid."

"The Faunus?" Nicholas frowned as he regarded his granddaughter, trying to instill a much more serious tone to his voice. "You should never call them that Winter. They are not animals, they are people. They are no different than you or me. Did one of your tutors tell you to call them that?"

"No," Winter paused to think for a second. "Father and those people he talks to a lot called Lucianna that."

"Did they now?" Nicholas queried, grimacing as Winter nodded in response. He would need to have a word with Jacques and the SDC's board. They were becoming far too cavalier with their policies as of late anyways, and while he may not be acting president, that did not mean they would be allowed to tarnish his company's name. "That was quite rude of them. Lucianna has been an excellent aid to your mother."

"She is nice," Winter agreed as she glanced up from her treat with a small frown. "Father said I have to stay away from them though. Does that mean I have to stay away from Weiss?"

Nicholas smiled as he vehemently shook his head. "Absolutely not. She is your little sister. If anything, you need to be close by to protect her."

"Because she has weird things on her back?" Winter cocked her head as she tried to put the pieces together in her head.

"Precisely," Nicholas patted her head affectionately, earning a small giggle from her. "Those are wings if I had to wager. Very delicate. We will need to be extra careful that she does not hurt herself."

"Why? Will she fly away?" Winter's eyes widened almost comically as she glanced up at Nicholas with wonder. "We should tie a string to her."

Nicholas couldn't help the snort that escaped him as he shook his head. "I would not worry about that quiet yet."

"But it's ok if I stay near her?"

"Of course it is, no matter what anyone else says," Nicholas assured her. "You're her big sister, and that means you will need to protect her, Little Knight"

"Ok Grandpa," Winter said with a smile before holding up her empty popsicle stick. "I'm done."

Nicholas smiled as he stood with a small groan, holding out a hand for Winter. "Alright, let's go and check on your mother then."

"Then I suppose I should simply refuse to believe my own two eyes?!"

The angry yell barely punched through the door, but it was enough to leave Winter stiff as a board next to him. The argument had been going on for some time now, and was clearly disturbing her; even Weiss could be heard wailing from inside by this point.

Nicholas knew he had agreed to let the two talk alone, but this was the last straw. If only for the sake of the children, he knocked loudly on the door but didn't bother to wait for a response before gently nudging it open. Silence blanketed the room as he slowly stepped into the room, closing the door behind him, leaving Winter outside. Willow was still in bed, rocking Wiess as her wails slowly died down now that the yelling had finally subsided. All the while, Jacque paced back and forth relentlessly, not even bothering to look up to meet his gaze.

"You two are scaring the children with all your yelling," he stated calmly, firmly planting his cane between his legs.

Jacques froze and turned to shoot a venomous glare in his father-in-law's direction. "The children? That's what you're concerned about? I'm sure you've already noticed, but that thing is not my daughter."

"But she is! I swear to you upon my mother's grave, I was never with anyone else!" Willow pleaded, her eyes red as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Then how do you explain this abomination?!" he spat, jerking Weiss out of Willow's arms with a yelp; the small babe wailed loudly once more from the rough treatment, the down covered wings flaring out from her back

"Jacques! That is quite enough!" Nicholas shouted, limping over to him and quickly removing the child from his hands, cradling her close to his own chest and rocking her slowly. "If you truly can't take my daughter's word on the matter, we can get tests done to be sure. There is no need for this hostility!"

"No need?!" Jacques jeered, his voice taking on a mocking edge. "You and I both know the world will never see this creature as my daughter."

The pacing began once more as he spoke, "This will drag the Schnee name through the mud Nicholas! And even if she is my daughter, even if the tests prove it, how do you think this will fare in the public eye? Imagine trying to claim inheritance when the whole of Atlas, hell the whole damn world thinks you are illegitimate? They will claim the tests are fake no matter the evidence; even if we are successful, even if we do manage to convince everyone, imagine the scandals and ridicule we will be forced to endure!"

Despite his best efforts, a scowl emerged as Jacques' points drove home a very real and unfortunate problem with the situation, despite how selfish and hateful the sentiment was. Old beliefs still held weight in Atlas, and while legally they would be likely able to prove and ensure the passing of the torch, the board – and indeed, the public at large – would never accept the ruling.

"What are you suggesting then?" Willow finally spoke up, a small measure of grit in her tone as she clearly began to consider the reality her daughter might face.

"If she is my daughter as you both seem to think, then clearly those… appendages are a mistake."

Nichols' grip tightened around the handle of his cane at Jacques' words.

"Tumors or medical issues to be corrected immediately and I happen to know of someone who can help with that. He should be able to remove the evidence with minimal damage. She won't even miss them. In fact, come to think of it, I believe she should never know they even existed in the first place."

The room went deathly still at the suggestion. Willow bit her lip in contemplation while Nicholas watched the small babe in his hands grab at his shirt, her tiny wings twitching ever-so-slightly as she whimpered in his arms.

"No…" he said firmly before turning his gaze back to his son-in-law. "Jacques, I appreciate your dedication to the family name, but this is not our choice to make. This is a decision Weiss herself must make once she's old enough to understand."

Jacques rounded on him once more, seething rage evident in every step as he approached him. "Let me make this very clear then. I will not become the laughing stock in Atlas because of your daughter's inability to keep her legs closed. If you wish for it to be part of this family, if you want me to give it an opportunity any of those mongrels in Mantle would kill for, the wings will be removed."

With each biting word, Nicholas' back straightened, his hands gripping the cane with enough force to strain the wood. He shielded Weiss from the onslaught, rocking her even as his voice, low and burning, responded to the threat in kind. "How dare-"

"We can hide them." Willow's voice was soft but firm as the two men snapped their attention back to her. "At least until she's old enough to make the choice herself. The doctor offered to help with the records."

Jacque was quick to open his mouth, but Willow cut him off as well.

"I know Jacques, but what you are suggesting – while practical – cannot be undone. Weiss will discover the truth eventually. We can lie all we like, but… we cannot hide everything. There will be the scars, her night vision, and a dozen things besides. I-I couldn't live with myself if Weiss wound up resenting us for doing something like this."

For the briefest of moments, it truly seemed like Jacque would attack in earnest. His hands tightened into fists and a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, until finally, he released a violent sigh, and with it the tension in the room finally settled.

"Very well. They will be kept hidden," he ground out before raising a finger, cutting off any response. "But. If any of this gets out, it is your heads on the pike, not mine. I will not be dragged down by your foolishness."

Nicholas felt the burning in his chest slowly flicker out, his response dying as a compromise was finally reached. He wasn't happy, and Jacques would be getting a piece of his mind later, but for now… it was time to put the matter to rest.

"Very well. Now then, can you please retrieve your daughter? I'm barely standing as it is, and I think it's high time she learns who her father is," he said, narrowing his eyes at Jacques and gesturing with the sleeping baby in his arms.

Jacques furrowed his brow at the request, but pulled Weiss from Nichoals arms nonetheless. It would have been endearing with how awkwardly he cradled her, if not for how hard he seemed to be trying to avoid her wings while the sleeping angel squirmed in his arms to find what scraps of comfort she could get.

"Weiss Schnee," he scoffed, holding her for barely even a few seconds before shoving the bundle into Willow's hands and storming out of the room.

"He will come around…" Willow whispered to Weiss, pulling the baby close to her chest and leaning back. "He's just angry right now. He will come around. I know he will…"

Nicholas smiled at the display. Yet even as Willow spoke the words with such conviction, he could already feel the seeds of doubt settling into his mind.

"At least let her take them off at night. Klein says she can't sleep with the bindings on, and they are clearly hurting-"

"We already coddle her enough with those fabric wraps and you rejected my solution the day she was born! What more would you have me do?"

"Well, perhaps if Doctor Goodman were still here you wouldn't need to worry about it!"

"You of all people should be glad that leech is gone; or would you have preferred to be outed as the unfaithful harlot…"

Winter liked to pretend she couldn't hear the yelling whenever her parents had one of their arguments. Years ago her curiosity might have led her to listen in, but now? Now it was easier to find an empty room at the other end of the mansion, ignore the noise and hum a little song. At least, whenever she wasn't expressly ordered to stay put. She could barely keep track of how many times they had yelled at each other just this week; it felt like every conversation devolved into screaming or threatening each other. It was always the protests, the company, her sister... The word divorce was thrown around more and more these days. The cold fear that had spilled into her chest whenever that word was used had long since vanished along with-

"Little Miss?" Klein's voice had Winter perking up from her spot by her fathers door. She liked Klein. He tried so hard to help, to make Weiss and her feel comfortable. She didn't know how, but he always managed to skirt the line between the grown-up world and her and Weiss' world with more grace than the two of them combined, a line so thin that Winter sometimes wondered if it really existed or if Klein simply painted it himself. "Care to accompany me for some tea?"

Winter nodded eagerly, sparing a single glance at the doorway before following him down the well worn route to the manor's garden where a small steaming teapot and two cups waited patiently for them.

Of course he had known. She never understood how he did it, but he always seemed to have something prepared for moments like didn't like waiting. Her feet grew impatient. Hands fidgeting constantly. Klein always seemed to know when the feeling began to set in, and was always there with a smile and a helping hand.

Doctor Goodman used to be like that too. Always smiling. Always there to help. His assistants, Emma and Ada, were gentle with her when doing her check ups and shots. She hated shots, but the two made them bearable.

Then they left one day and never came back.

Mother had said something about an accident when she had asked when they'd be back. Klien had said that they were helping people somewhere far away now, but that didn't stop her from missing them. Now she understood that they would never come back, and that the accident was something really bad.

Easing herself up in the chair she made sure to smooth out her dress, waiting for Klien to pour some of the tea into her cup before carefully picking it up and taking a sip. She always loved his tea. It tasted so much sweeter than the stuff her mom gave her.

"Thank you Klein."

"Anything for you Snowflake." He smiled deeply.

Snowflake. Little Knight. Snow Angel. He always called her and Weiss by those names when her parents were not around. It almost felt like teasing, but the warm smile he always said it with never failed to make Winter feel a little better. Especially with grandpa's health declining more and more each day.

"Something on your mind my dear?" Klein poured himself a cup before sitting across from her, learning back in his seat as he did.

"Nothing new…" Winter looked down at the steaming cup. "I'm still scared all the time. I still can't stand still for more than a couple of minutes. I think something is wrong with me Klein"

"Winter, my dear, you are perfect just the way you are."

"Then why do I get reprimanded for not standing still? I've done the book drill so many times and it just never works! I get scared hearing Mother and Father fight… I-I don't like feeling weak."

"Have you considered that what you consider bad now is good somewhere else?"

Winter wrinkled her nose. "That doesn't make much sense."

"Well you know me." Klein whipped his hand across his face. His eyes reappeared as yellow. "I have always been a bit nonsensical."

Winter let out a small laugh, rolling her eyes as Klien closed his eyes and reopened them to reveal soft brown once more.

She still had tutors coming that afternoon but at that moment she could feel herself relaxing a bit. Enjoying the temperate gardens-

The loud sound of a door slamming echoing through the hallways of the manor putting a end to those feelings

"I dare say those two can make quite the ruckus." Klein groaned, as he rolled his eyes, the soft brown giving way to red. "Though your father has always kept his pants cinched a bit tight eh?"

Winter threw a hand over her mouth to muffle her laugh, careful to keep an even grip on her cup lest she ruined another dress. Her mother would throw a fit… not that she would be in a particularly good mood one way or the other.

"They're getting another test," she said with a heavy sigh. "I don't know what he expects to change. That makes at least three now."

Klein frowned, shaking his head. "Imagine giving up precious time with you like that."

"He's just worried," Winter sputtered in defense. "Two humans can't have a Faunus. Even I know that."

Klein wiggled his finger back and forth. "Ah, but despite her wings, our little Snow Angel is a Schnee through and through, and no test will ever change that."

The clipped sound of heels stifled the comfortable atmosphere, prompting Winter to carefully adjust her posture and dress before the sound reached the alcove above the garden.

"Winter, there you are." Willow's voice echoed through the garden dome. Her heels clicked on the stone steps as she descended into the small enclosed area. Klein bowed his head as she stepped on the stone pathway leading to the table. "I have some news for you."

Winter perked up as she slowly placed her cup back on the table, waiting as her mother made her way to the table and crouched down to hold her hands.

Her mother smiled warmly, the light never quite reaching her eyes. "You are going to have another sibling soon. How exciting is that?"

Klein was instantly by her side, hands clasped in front of him. "Wonderful news my lady! I dare say this manor will be a lively one with three little ones running around."

"Quite," Willow sighed, releasing Winter and picking up the cup. After a quick sip, she turned to glare at Klien before setting it back down.

"Klein, what have I told you about sugar?"

"She is only allowed lady-like amounts, ma'am."

"Mm, and this tea is sweet because?"

"My deepest apologies," he said with a bow, a small smile on his lips as he winked at Winter. "I must have grabbed the wrong pot."

"See that it does not happen again," Willow said before holding her hand out toward Winter. "Come. It's almost time for your violin lessons, Winter. Your grandfather is just finishing up something in his study."

"Yes, Mother." Winter stood and placed the half finished beverage on the platter, smoothing out her dress before grabbing her mother's hand and following her lead out of the garden.

She regretted not downing the whole cup when she had the chance.

The yelling had finally stopped…

Nicholas let out a relieved sigh and, with a final flourish, set his pen down before taking one final look at the papers. His will, finally complete. His final words, ready to be sealed away until the horrendous cough he had claimed him. The doctors called it dust lung. Supposedly, Dust from the mines was caught in his lungs, but he chose to believe he was simply getting too old for his work.

Most of his affairs had been a simple matter to take care of. The vast majority of his personal wealth would be distributed to various charities in Mantle for the poor and impoverished, while his possessions and what money remained would be left to his daughter's family. Hopefully, it would be enough. At the very least, he was certain his Snow Angel and Little Knight would love their gifts.

The more difficult part was his last words into two letters, one of which was intended to be published and read by the general public upon his death. In that letter were his hopes for the great cities of the kingdom of Atlas and the future of the Schnee Dust Company, words he hoped would some day inspire even more people in the great city he called home to reach for the sky and climb higher than they ever dreamed they could. He had been there for the birth of both Mantle and Atlas and seen its people be forged in the fires of war and tempered by Dust. He believed in them, and he wanted that to be known far and wide.

His second letter, addressed specifically to his family, were his final wishes. He could only hope that his passing would prompt them to finally put this foolish long-standing quarrel behind them, to allow Weiss make the life-changing decision about her wings on her own terms, and to let Winter follow her own path – her own heart – much like he had when he was young.

The fact that his son-in-law was still arguing for the removal of his own daughter's wings hurt, but if he hadn't managed to convince Jacques otherwise in half a decade, then there wasn't much he could do to convince him now. He knew that, deep down, Jacques was a good man, but he was also well aware that his son-in-law was blinded by his bigotry. He would simply have to put his faith in the man like his daughter had when she married him. And should Jacques refuse to change even after he died, then, well, at least Willow would protect Weiss.

A quick glance told him the heated wax was ready, the stamp bearing the Schnee crest standing at attention. He carefully dripped the wax onto the envelope and pressed the crest into it, only for the wax to crack as he eased it away a hair early. A soft knock at the door stopped him mid-motion as he reached for a knife to scrape off the seal and replace it.

It would seem he'd lost track of time again. Nicholas neatly scooped up the letters and tucked them into a drawer. "Enter."

"Master Schnee?" Klein's tentative voice has Nicholas turning in his chair as his most trusted butler entered the small room, closing the door behind him. "Your granddaughter will be playing in the ballroom soon."

"Is it that time already?" Nicholas chuckled as he reached to the side of his desk and grabbed his cane. "Time really does just fly when you get to my age."

"I can only imagine," Klein said as he walked over to Nicholas' side, his eyes flashing yellow as he allowed Nicholas to use his arm to stand. "But the candles don't yet cost more than the cake, so you have at least a few more years in yah."

Nicholas let out a small snort at the comment, quickly devolving into a coughing fit as he held rigid onto Klein's arm until the fit passed.

"Klein, are you trying to kill me?" He choked out as the last of the coughs passed. "I suppose dying of laughter wouldn't be the worst way to go."

"Of course not," Klein chuckled as he slowly walked him to the study door and pulled it open for him. "Though I dare say those board meetings would have been the death of me."

"I should have mandated that all board members work at least one winter in the mines. They would never complain about profit margins again," Nicholas chuckled roughly as they slowly made their way down the hallway. "Alas. I am sure they will come around. Mantle will keep Atlas honest. Remind all of us where we come from."

"I look forward to that day," Klein said with a smile as he opened the ballroom door, the crips sounds of a Violin spilling out as he did. "She's as dedicated as ever."

"Of course," Nicholas said as he walked into the hall. "She is a Schnee after all."