Even this early in the day the city was coming to life, the ambient hum of engines and distant sirens growing more numerous with each passing second, joined by the soft rumble of footsteps and chatter as pedestrians flooded the sidewalks. Here at the heart of the city, it was even more active than usual as tourists arriving for the Festival swarmed through to visit Vale's most popular sites and partake in local businesses' pre-festival activities. Weiss had never regretted selling her car less.

"How's your arm doing?" Weiss asked as they walked away from Pyrrha's statue.

Ruby shrugged. "Won't matter in a couple days. I've got my scans back at my dad's place, so just waiting on Penny to get here."

"You haven't gone back to your apartment yet?"

"I stopped by to get my mail and a few things . . . Yang was there."

Before Weiss could ask how that went, they'd reached city hall's entrance. A freckled boy with messy brown hair was waiting to greet them.

"Hello," Weiss said. "Oscar, wasn't it?"

"Uh, yeah," he said as if he hadn't expected to be remembered. "That's right."

Ruby waved with a smile. "Hi. I'm Ruby."

"I know," Oscar said. "I-I mean— We were expecting you. It's a pleasure. Please come with me."

He turned away and set off down the hall, but not before Weiss observed the redness in his cheeks. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"It's so busy," Ruby said as they followed him through the lively interior, oblivious to the blushing mess she'd made of the poor boy.

A constant stream of city workers moved through the halls with the same energy as that of the bustle outside and only a bit of the excitement. Officials walked and talked in pairs or groups. Interns hurried by with stacks of documents, boxes, or refreshments. Police officers also patrolled as security, far more than seemed necessary.

"The Festival is two days away," Oscar said.

"Isn't the organization committee headquartered on-site?" Weiss said.

"Yes, but there's still a lot that can only be done here, not to mention all the usual work as well."

The mayor's office was on the top floor, but Oscar didn't stop when they reached the elevator. Instead, he led them to a small meeting room. Inside was an oval table surrounded by wooden chairs, as well as an inactive screen taking up the far wall. Oscar left and they didn't have to wait long for the mayor to arrive with Qrow, who got a grin and a little wave from Ruby.

"Hey, kiddo," Qrow said, closing the door behind him. It was the first time Weiss had seen him smile, as subdued as it was.

"Miss Rose. Miss Schnee," Ozpin greeted. He placed his cane and a travel mug on the table before taking a seat across from them. "It is heartening to see you both in good health. I do hope I won't have cause to say that again when next we meet."

Weiss had to bite back a retort. She was sure he hadn't meant any offense by it, but she didn't need him to remind her that every meeting they had was preceded by multiple escapes from mortal peril.

"Heard you ran into the old crone," Qrow said. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall to the side of Ozpin. The sight of him caused something to stir in the back of Weiss's brain, and she felt like she was forgetting something.

"Who?" Ruby said.

"I assume he is referring to the director of the CAB," Ozpin said. "She arrived in Vale this morning."

"Oh, her. Yeah, a couple times actu—"

"I meant her," Qrow said with a nod in Weiss's direction. "Yesterday."

Ruby looked at Weiss, out of the loop. It wasn't like Weiss could have texted her, and she didn't think it was something worth mentioning in the message Winter sent Qrow to pass along.

"She wanted to talk to me about Adam," Weiss said. "She seriously followed us here?"

"She arrived in pursuit of Mr. Taurus," Ozpin clarified. "His history of animosity toward the CAB has caused her to take a vested interest in his recapture. She was rather displeased with the results of your questioning."

"He's here?" Ruby said, alarmed. "Already?"

"Yeah," Qrow said. "My sources say he's been here at least two days."

"Your sources?" Weiss looked at him, still unsure what was eluding her. "What is it that you actually do, can I ask?"

"I do whatever the hell Oz needs. What's it matter?"

Ruby cut in before Weiss could respond. "But what about Yang? And Blake? You're protecting them, right?"

"You needn't worry," Ozpin said. "We are doing everything in our power to ensure their safety. That said, it is our belief that his full focus is currently on rebuilding his following, which will take time. He is a threat, but not as imminent as you would fear."

"And besides, Yang and her girlfriend can handle themselves just fine," Qrow said. "They took him down last time, didn't they? We're more concerned about the both of you."

"You think he might target us to get to them?" Ruby said.

"That is a possibility," said Ozpin, "though not the most pressing one. The greatest danger at the moment is Cinder Fall, and the likelihood that you are both targets to her after your run-ins with Roman Torchwick."

Cinder . . . Weiss looked at Qrow again. She felt like it had something to do with him and Cinder.

"Would she know about us?" Ruby said. "I mean she'd only know what Torchwick or Neo told her, but . . ."

"The least of which is that you both exist, and that's already too much," Qrow said. "And because of what happened at Junior's, she absolutely knows one of you has a semblance worth her attention."

"But she still won't know about Weiss's, right?" Ruby said. "Torchwick decided to turn against her as soon as he learned what it was, so—"

"Are you a paragon?" Weiss said, her eyes locked on Qrow as the talk of semblances finally connected the dots in her head.

Ruby's lips were still parted from the thought she didn't get to finish as she looked at Weiss with a furrowed brow. Ozpin took a sip from his mug, watching Weiss with silent curiosity while Qrow huffed out an impatient sigh.

"You really can't go two seconds without prying into other people's business, can you?" he said.

"That's not an answer," Weiss said.

"I mean, he's registered," Ruby said. "Not really a secret."

"Yeah, but it's not like I want it paraded around, either," said Qrow. "Is there a point to this?"

A paragon named Qrow who could shapeshift into animals. It was too fitting to be his birth name, but he also didn't rub her as the type to pick such a ridiculous name with an even more ridiculous spelling for himself. Maybe that was a bit unfair, but she was still spiteful after how he'd talked down to her outside the hospital.

"Cinder told Watts the reason Salem's assault failed," Weiss said. "Mayor Ozpin sent a paragon scout to check on Vacuo, which is why he was able to prepare in time. It was you, wasn't it?"

Qrow's gaze never left Weiss, and she could see the shift in his eyes. Irritation and impatience slipped away as he found significance in her words, and she suspected it was a different significance to what she'd intended, though she didn't know what. He shot a serious look toward Ozpin that went unacknowledged.

"What else did Cinder share with him?" Ozpin said, remaining impassive.

Ruby's chair scraped against the floor as she bolted to her feet. "It's true?"

"You didn't know?" Weiss said.

"No, I . . ." Ruby's face scrunched up in concentration. "Wait, you did mention something about animals, didn't you? In the cellar. Most of it's just clouded by fear for me, so I didn't . . . Uncle Qrow, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it's supposed to be confidential," he said.

"But you're a hero!"

Qrow scoffed. "Nikos was the hero. I'm just the idiot that nearly got himself shot out of the sky."

Weiss let her gaze linger on Qrow a moment longer before turning her attention to Ozpin. "Pyrrha. She didn't escape from jail, either. You let her go."

"Cinder Fall was the source of this information as well?" said Ozpin.

"You're not denying it?"

"No. I am not denying it. You believe that makes me a hypocrite, don't you?"

Weiss bit her lip, unable to give a yes or no. He'd always been adamant about his views on vigilantism, but he'd also once told her that if Pyrrha had survived, he'd give her a thank you and a pardon. Now she had to wonder—had that come from a place of gratitude, or guilt?

"The imminent threat of Salem's approach left me with limited options," Ozpin said, "as well as a difficult choice. To this day, I cannot say whether it was the right one. Your recent discovery that, under Salem's orders, Arthur Watts was involved in Miss Nikos's self-surrender only confirms the suspicions I'd acted upon at the time. There is still much we don't know about Salem's assault and her organization, and people are continuing to suffer because of this ignorance. So I will ask again, Miss Schnee—what else did you learn in the minds of Arthur Watts and Tyrian Callows?"

The politeness never left his voice, but Weiss still felt like he was pressing her, reminding her without saying it that he was devoting his limited time to this meeting while the days were growing more and more hectic. It was then that she noticed the bit of darkness under his eyes, partly obscured by the shaded spectacles he wore close to the tip of his nose. Qrow looked tired too, now that she thought about it—it was hard to tell given his perpetual grumpiness.

"Ruby, will you sit back down already?" Weiss muttered as she pulled out a folded piece of paper. She'd written down the most important details so as not to forget anything, which wasn't unlikely given that she had learned most of it while concussed.

Qrow pushed himself off the wall and navigated around so he stood behind Weiss. He looked over her shoulder at the list of notes that were mostly meaningless to anyone but Weiss, such as "C has col" and "S had H". He gave a, "Hmph," that could almost be taken as impressed.

"'S'. That's Salem," Qrow said. "'H'. Hypnos?"

"What?" Weiss said. "No, Hazel."

"Doesn't ring a bell," Qrow said.

"It was a large man Salem had working for her," Weiss said. "Brown hair, muscular, deep voice. He sat right beside her. I think his name is Hazel, or she might have also had someone else by that name."

"And 'reco'?" Qrow said.

Weiss slapped her hand onto the paper and slid it away from him. "If you would actually let me talk, I could explain."

"She makes a valid point," Ozpin said.

Qrow raised his palms and took a step back. Ruby, meanwhile, had not sat down and now leaned forward with her hands on the table.

"Miss Rose," Ozpin said. "I presume you have something you wish to say?"

"Yeah," Ruby said, the word coming out barely audible. She cleared her throat and repeated herself, louder. "Yeah. You know who she is, don't you?"

Neither man said anything, and for the first time, Weiss saw the faintest change in Ozpin's expression.

"Cinder Fall," Ruby said, a touch more fierce. "Do you know who she is?"

"That's not your concern," Qrow said.

"How is it not?" Ruby said.

"Miss Rose, I understand—" Ozpin started to say, but Ruby cut him off.

"She killed my mom!" she said, not quite a shout but loud enough to leave a ringing silence in the room. She let it hang before demanding once again, "Do you know who she is?"

Ozpin held Ruby's gaze, meeting her challenge with a pregnant silence during which Weiss could only imagine he was deciding the best way to let her down easy. He placed his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers, commanding full attention without needing to say a word, until he finally opened his mouth and gave the last answer Weiss was expecting.

"Yes," he said.

Out of the corner of her eye, Weiss saw a twitch of movement from Qrow.

"Who is she?" Ruby said, her knuckles bending from the pressure with which she gripped the surface of the table.

"I am afraid I can't tell you that," Ozpin said.

"Why not?" Ruby's voice was steady as she said it, but there was a desperate edge to it.

"Because everyone in this room knows damn well what you'll do once you know," Qrow said with annoyance that wasn't quite directed at her.

"But what was the point of any of it, then? If you know and you won't tell me, then—" Ruby's voice hitched, and she struggled to articulate her thoughts.

Weiss saw the tremor intensify in Ruby's left hand, less than a foot away from where Weiss's rested on the piece of paper. Weiss tried to reach for it, not really thinking but wanting to do something to comfort her. Ruby pulled it away at the last second, though. She gripped it by the wrist in front of herself with her other hand in a vain attempt to steady it.

"Miss Rose," Ozpin said, his voice softer. "Knowing who it was that tore away a piece of your soul will never mend it. Believe me. You are seeking peace in places that only serve to bring you further strife."

"But you need us!" Ruby said. "Either one of you could be under her control right now and only Weiss could know for sure."

"Again," Qrow said. "That's not your concern. Look. I love you, pipsqueak, and I get it, but you've done enough already. More than you should have. This isn't your fight."

"What Qrow means to say," Ozpin added, "is that while we can never condone the methods you used nor the price you paid, the information you've brought to us has proven valuable. We are closer than ever to apprehending Detective Rose's murderer. The most important thing for you to do right now is to keep yourselves safe and away from harm."

"I know," Ruby said. "I know I keep making mistakes and choosing all the wrong choices. That's why I'm asking. I want to do things the right way this time. Please. Let me help!"

"The 'right way'—" Qrow started, cut off by a raised palm from Ozpin.

With just enough firmness to convey a note of finality without being too harsh, Ozpin said, "No."

Ruby was silent, and whatever she was feeling didn't show on her face. She stared down at the table and gave a small, absent nod. Eventually, her hands fell limp at her sides, and she said, "I'll wait outside."

"I would request that you stay," Ozpin said. "Both your perspectives have value to me."

Ruby didn't listen. She teleported across the room, leaving a deafening silence in her wake as the door closed behind her. Weiss stared at where her hand had failed to touch Ruby's, wondering why she was still sitting here instead of going after her.

"Miss Schnee," Ozpin said. "I hope that you, at least, can understand my stance on this."

"I do," Weiss said, but she understood what Ruby was going through far better. Weiss had been in the same position just a few days ago with Winter and Clover, after all. She'd ignored their decision then, not knowing how terribly things would end up. But Watts was in custody now, Tyrian Callows was dead, and everyone she cares about is alive. Could she still say the same had she done the "right" thing instead?

"Thank you." Ozpin checked his watch. "Let's return to the matter at hand. Time is getting the better of us."

It wasn't a lengthy meeting by any means, but activity outside city hall looked to have doubled by the time Weiss left the building. It took her a moment to spot Ruby amongst the passing crowds, standing off to the side of the entry steps with her hands in her pockets, looking bored.

"You're still here," Weiss said. She hadn't fully expected Ruby would run off and take a cab, but she was relieved nonetheless.

"I said I'd wait," Ruby said. "Have I ever lied to you?"

"We never would have met if you hadn't lied to me."

"Agree to disagree."

Weiss rolled her eyes. "Let's—"

"You didn't back me up in there," Ruby blurted. Had she spent her time out here coming up with the best way to make Weiss feel guilty about that? It almost worked.

"Did you expect me to disagree with them?" Weiss said.

"I expected you to understand."

"Of course I understand. But they're still right, Ruby."

Ruby crossed her arms, both hands on her biceps. She stared at the ground, avoiding meeting Weiss's eyes.

"Ruby," Weiss said, speaking before she'd even figured out how she wanted to approach this.

"I know!" Ruby said, saving her the trouble. Her fingers dug into her sleeves as her grips tightened, and her voice fell. "I know they're right. You didn't have to say it. But . . . still. She took my mom from me, Weiss. And now, finally, the answer is right there and I still can't have it."

Weiss stared at her, having expected an argument but ended up with a situation she was even less prepared for. She had to resist every impulse she had, leaving her feeling lost and helpless.

Weiss wanted to hug her, but she couldn't. Weiss had tried to touch her hand before, and she shouldn't have. Ruby had feelings for her that Weiss couldn't return. There was a reason for Ruby not keeping that to herself—to establish boundaries. To stop Weiss from accidentally doing anything that would only further complicate things, such as telling Ruby that she loved her and then clarifying it was only in the same way she loved her brother.

She internally winced at the memory, still as clear as day, of how dense she'd been. But . . . looking at Ruby now, Weiss understood that the love she had for her best friend was nothing like the love she had for her siblings. She didn't know what that meant, and, for reasons she couldn't grasp, the idea of finding out scared her. She really wanted to hug Ruby, but why wasn't comforting her the sole source of that desire?

"I'm sorry," Ruby eventually said, her grips slackening.

"For what?" Weiss said.

She shook her head. "Let's just go. I don't want to get on your sister's bad side or anything."

"Wait." Weiss stepped in front of her. "I need to know. What are you going to do now?"

Ruby looked up and met Weiss's gaze, in what had to be the single worst moment to do so. The confusion seeded within Weiss's mind only sprouted further and she was caught off guard, suddenly conscious of every detail of Ruby's eyes as they peered into her own. They were wide and round, ringed with the unnaturally smooth skin of someone who'd gone two decades without ever experiencing fatigue. Her eyelashes were short but dark and dense. Those bright, silver irises sparkled like sunlight dancing along the countless cracks in a cloudy sky, filling what were already large eyes from top to bottom and leaving only small crescents of white at either side. They were free of makeup, and there wasn't a single eyeliner, eyeshadow, or mascara that wouldn't detract from their natural beauty.

Ruby had looked her in the eye to lend credibility to her answer, but Weiss was so distracted that it took her several moments to process it, and another to doubt it.

"Nothing?" Weiss repeated, her heart beating faster while she didn't have a spare thought to figure out what just happened.

"Nothing. I hate it, but . . . it's like you said. They're right."

"So you're actually not going to get involved?"

"I just tried. Didn't work."

"So that's it? Seriously?"

"Are you trying to change my mind?"

Weiss waited. She didn't have to say anything to make it clear that she had a thousand reasons to be skeptical.

Ruby raised her left hand and stared down into her trembling palm. After taking the time to gather her thoughts, she stuffed it into her pocket and made eye contact once again, which Weiss immediately broke.

"I don't want to make the same mistakes anymore," Ruby said. "Believe me, it's really, really tempting to go back to the safe house and grab one of those bugs Jaune used on me so I can Blink it onto Uncle Qrow. That's why I know I shouldn't, and I'm not going to. I told you I can be better, but that doesn't mean anything if I don't try to be."

Weiss swallowed, reminded of the woman she'd seen in the wine cellar, the one who'd pointed a revolver at Tyrian Callows and pulled the trigger. So different from the naive, incorrigible girl who'd showed off her new cork board and lit up at the idea of bribing the county clerk. Different, even, from the one who stood before her right now, having walked away from that cellar with the heart to feel guilty over what she'd tried and failed to do to someone who deserved no empathy.

She'd changed, in many ways for the better, and in some ways not enough. But, despite all, she was still very much Ruby.

"Okay," Weiss said. "I believe you."

Ruby smiled and, when it became clear Weiss wasn't trying to impede her anymore, set off toward where Winter was waiting in the rental van. Weiss lagged behind a few steps, watching Ruby as she struggled with a sinking realization in her chest.

Ruby had known that Weiss couldn't return her feelings. There were never any illusions about that, which was why she'd never tried to knock at that door. There was nothing but heartbreak waiting on the other side, and they both knew it.

Weiss couldn't return Ruby's feelings. It was a simple, sad truth. A fact. A fact with two decades worth of evidence behind it. And yet, a single moment was all it took to cast it and everything else Weiss had thought she'd known about herself into doubt. In a single moment, she'd glimpsed the light shining through the crack beneath that door, and it terrified her. She couldn't return Ruby's feelings, but no matter how many times she repeated that to herself, it couldn't make her forget what she saw.

It would be easier to come to terms with questioning her sexuality if only these vague notions in her head that she didn't understand were new—if it had been Ruby's reveal that caused her subconscious to recognize and see the possibilities she'd never considered before. But they weren't new. What she'd experienced while talking to Ruby outside of city hall, it felt familiar. Whatever caused it had been there a while, lurking at the back of her mind unbeknownst to herself.

Weiss could accept that she never realized her best friend was in love with her. She could make excuses, say she had more pressing things going on. She could call herself stupid while still saying it was at least understandable. But the idea that she'd been in love with her best friend without realizing it? She'd have to burn her psych degree before she could even think about whether that was true.

And she didn't want to think about it. She wanted to pry herself out of bed and shove her degree in the closet so it wouldn't be hanging on her wall anymore, forever taunting her about her ignorance. But getting out of bed would mean starting the day, and starting the day meant more difficult questions. The same questions she had to keep asking over and over again despite not wanting to know the answers to them.

Had Watts's actions reached the public yet? Have the Ace Ops made any progress on his case? Was Adam still on the loose, and was he doing anything yet? Was any of what Roman Torchwick had been planning for the Vytal Festival still a threat?

It was easy to miss the times when her biggest problems were bills and her semblance instead of the very real possibility of the deaths of herself and the people dear to her. She longed to go back to that kind of simplicity, to that brief window between her first time meeting Ruby and the first time she'd stared down the barrel of a loaded gun. That was when Ruby had been a distraction from the problems she'd had the luxury of not thinking about. Now, Ruby represented what was somehow Weiss's most daunting challenge yet.

She'd told Ruby that her life was better with her in it, right before that world-shattering kiss. She still believed it. That's why it wasn't a question of how deeply she cared for Ruby, because the Weiss she'd always known herself to be would and has sacrificed so much to keep Ruby as her best friend and a part of her life. It was a different Weiss altogether who could heel-turn on a core aspect of her identity to gamble the most important friendship she'd ever had on the possibility of something she wasn't even sure she wanted. She didn't know if she could be that person. The last thing she wanted to be was someone who could wind up hurting Ruby by arriving at the wrong conclusion and coming to her senses later.

She had to believe there was an explanation she wasn't seeing. That it was some combination of recent trauma, never having been in love before, and having been so alone for so much of her life that was causing her to fear the worst of something completely innocuous.

It would be easier to figure out if only she had someone to talk to about it. Winter was one room away, but things were still awkward there and it was a stinging reminder that they'd yet return to a place where Weiss felt she could go to her with something like this. Her other sibling would be of little help when it came to such a subject, but she could still see herself talking to him if it were an option. Unfortunately, though, Whitley was still officially a suspect and his scroll had met the same fate as hers and Ruby's.

Weiss had bought a new phone yesterday—a cheap, temporary one since there was no point in buying an expensive scroll before the Skeleton Key vulnerability came to light—but she had no one to call with it. Jaune was dealing with his vigilante charges, though he was supposed to be expecting a verdict soon. Penny hadn't left Weiss with much faith in her ability to keep a secret, and Weiss had never gotten her number, regardless. There was also Blake, who Weiss wasn't friends with anymore. She'd yet to bite that bullet, and there was so much more they had to talk about first.

The morning light snuck past the edge of her curtains, reflecting off the frame of her degree for a brief moment and nearly blinding her, almost like it knew she was making excuses and judging her for it. She felt indignant at the idea, and the absurdity of that was what drove her to finally climb out of bed, accepting the fact that she was the world's biggest hypocrite for failing to follow the same advice she kept giving to Ruby.

She told herself it was for the better that she let her confusion simmer, at least in the short term. It had only taken root a couple of days ago, after all. With time, it would grow into clarity. And if not . . . she could always find a bridge to stand on and wait for a vulgar stranger to come by with some sage advice. It had worked for Whitley.

By the time Weiss got out of the shower, Winter had already finished preparing breakfast. Awkward place or not, it was nice having her here the past couple of days. It made returning to her apartment after so long away a little less weird. Only a little. Safe house, Amity, half-crushed RV, or here—it didn't matter. It had been years since she'd slept under a roof that felt like home, and that didn't seem to be changing any time soon. That one night in Ruby's father's house was the closest she'd gotten, which was something else she didn't have the willpower to analyze just yet.

"Your television isn't functioning," Winter said, placing a plate in front of Weiss as she sat down.

"I canceled my plan when I stopped staying here," Weiss said. "Since when were you the type to want to watch it?"

Winter sat down across from Weiss with her own serving. "Preparations for the tower's demolition are complete. I've just received word, and I thought you might want to watch the live broadcast."

Weiss paused as she cut into her omelet, but only briefly. She was more surprised by how little she cared about the news than the news itself.

"It's about time," she said.

"I could pull it up on my scroll if you'd like."

"I don't know what I'd get out of it."

"Catharsis?"

"From watching Watts's achievement? I'd almost prefer it stay standing."

"I see. I apologize for bringing it up."

"How long do they think the cleanup is going to take? It was a large area they had to evacuate."

"A few months, at least, assuming all goes well. They've been forced to expedite what would have ideally been a lengthy and meticulous process, so it's impossible to guarantee anything."

Weiss ate slowly as she asked her other questions and got the usual answers, or lack thereof. It was a small meal, enough to hold her over until the Festival, but it wasn't even half gone by the time Winter had finished hers. She only hoped that she could muster up at least a decent appetite by the time they got there.

She'd never been very good at that, and it was even more difficult now as she thought of Ruby and the nagging thoughts that had been bothering her for the past two days. She looked across the table at Winter and reconsidered her previous resolution, wondering what that conversation might look like or what she might get out of it. She was smart enough to realize that her hesitancy should have been reason enough to just blurt it out, regardless of where they were at right now, but not smart enough to actually do it.

"I've been wanting to ask about Marrow," was what Weiss said instead.

"What about him?" Winter said.

"He said you saved his life once."

"I did."

"It's not a sensitive subject, is it?"

"No, but why are you asking?"

"Curiosity," Weiss said, making an attempt to sound casual though she knew Winter would see straight through it.

"I see," Winter said, choosing not to comment. "If you must know, there was an incident involving a chemical attack. Private Amin was inside when he smelled it, but his semblance makes him more vulnerable to such things. He communicated a warning in time for others to evacuate the building, but he then ceased responding. I entered and retrieved his unconscious body, and he was able to make a full recovery."

"Did you have a gas mask?"

"I held my breath."

Weiss stared at her, amazed. It was rare for Winter to talk about her work without brushing it off as "classified". Intuitively, Weiss knew how impressive her sister was, but she never really got to see it for herself. In hindsight, she understood that was intentional, that Winter preferred her little sister to form an idealized picture instead of knowing the grisly truth. That wine cellar probably wasn't the worst thing Winter had ever seen.

"It sounds like he saved a lot of lives, too," Weiss said, focusing on something more positive as the sight of Whitley's hemorrhaging throat flashed in her mind's eye.

"It's part of the job," Winter said. "He often strives too hard to prove himself, but I've worked with him enough times to say he's earned my respect. It was on my recommendation that Clover appointed him to fill Tortuga's place in the Ace Operatives."

"You respect him . . . Is that all?"

"There's not a romantic connection between us, if that's what you're insinuating."

Weiss gave a guilty smile. Marrow was closer to Winter's age than Weiss's, if she had to guess.

"I have bigger priorities in my life than dating, right now," Winter said. "If I meet someone who meets my standards, I might reassess that viewpoint."

"Marrow doesn't meet your standards?"

"He can be rather . . . immature, at times. He is a friend and a colleague, nothing more. Why are you so fixated on him?"

Because the alternative is talking about Ruby, Weiss thought, knowing she'd backed herself into a corner. Having no good response, she remained silent and took the last bite of her omelet instead.

"And what of you?" said Winter. "May I presume there was a reason you've steered us toward this topic?"

"No," Weiss lied. "There's not. I haven't seen anyone since I lived in Atlas."

"Of course," Winter said, clearly not buying it. But again—probably because she was still walking on eggshells since Weiss's outburst back at Amity—she let it slide.

"Your last boyfriend I recall was that Marigold gentleman, wasn't it?" Winter said.

"Henry?" Weiss scoffed. "He was not my boyfriend. We went on half a date that I walked out of because he was anything but a gentleman."

"Ah. My mistake. I must have confused him with one of the others. It is not a difficult thing to do, if you'll forgive my saying so."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Winter chuckled in a rare moment of unfiltered amusement. "You were nothing if not consistent, sister. It was as if a potential suitor's appeal to you was directly proportional to how much trouble they could get you into and how much Father would disapprove of them."

"That's absurd!" Weiss said, though the truth of her words was already sinking in.

Despite what Winter believed, Weiss had never had a boyfriend. She'd only ever been on a few dates at most with one guy before things fizzled out. There weren't many that she'd even taken an interest in, either, which is why it was painfully easy to conclude that there wasn't even one exception to what Winter just said.

The most recent was Neptune and her momentary . . . attraction? Intrigue? She tried to remember what exactly she'd felt for him, to latch onto something tangible she could use as a point of comparison for whatever was going on with her heart and Ruby now, but she couldn't. She had been attracted to him, right? He was handsome, charming, sweet, and, yeah, the last thing Jacques would want out of a son-in-law.

Oh god.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news," Winter said, who seemed genuinely surprised that this was as big of a revelation for Weiss as it was.

"So . . . the Festival," Weiss said, followed by a lingering, awkward silence.

She stood and collected the plates as an excuse to turn her back to Winter, taking them to the sink to clean them.

"What should we do first when we get there?" Weiss said, speaking over the running water with a voice much calmer than she felt.

Winter did not respond right away, which made Weiss worry that this would be the thing Winter fought her on. Weiss knew she was contemplating it, as she'd shut off the water and begun drying the dishes by the time Winter finally spoke.

"I look forward to the performances, mainly," she said.

Relieved that Winter was allowing her to push this conversation firmly into the "never acknowledge again" section of her brain, Weiss did her best to turn her full focus to the event she'd both looked forward to and dreaded at different points in time. It was hard to say where she sat right now with the bar having slid back and forth more and more sporadically the closer the first day got. Now that day was here, a once-in-a-lifetime experience spoiled by the sword Torchwick had left dangling above it.

Ozpin had assured her it was safe to attend. General Ironwood himself was overseeing the security and he had contracted Dr. Polendina as part of that. She would be with Winter the entire time. If she didn't have faith in even one of those things, she wouldn't go at all.

And it was too late to second guess now because the morning had gone and they were already out the door. All she could do was strive to embody the same optimism she admired in Ruby, to ignore her worries and let the excitement Torchwick had stolen from her back in.

And that excitement only grew as they entered the rental van and slowly progressed through the heavy traffic. As the festival grounds came into view. As they parked and the sounds of music, rides, and merriment met their ears. As they lined up at one of the many entrances to get their info packets and the aromas of the nearest food stalls wafted their way.

There were so many other shoes waiting to drop, but in the midst of all this, Weiss could succeed in convincing herself that none of it would be today. Today was about her and her sister, and nothing else.

And, because fortune was kind, she had several hours to enjoy herself before being proven wrong.

A/N: Credit to my beta reader, Bardothren, whose feedback is a huge help in making this story as good as it can be.

For personal reasons, I Write Big has decided to step away from beta reading this story. They've been a massive help over the years I've been writing this story and I'm extremely grateful for all the feedback they've given me.

That said, if there's anyone who'd be interested in beta reading for future chapters and feel like they can provide valuable feedback on early drafts, please feel free to private message me.