The days started to pass by easier. I would spend a lot of my time in my parents quarters.

Sitting in my father’s study or my mother’s drawing room, taking lunch in their greeting room, sleeping in their bed at night.

Clahadore had ordered more of all the perfumes and colognes my family would wear on a daily basis, he even went as far as getting the exact recipes for all of them to give to me for safekeeping.

At some point Lionel and the doctor started helping me walk again, building my straight up to the point that I was able to wander around the interior palace on my own some days.

Occasionally I would go about and gather some more of my family’s special things or precious memories to keep with me. Lionel said that I usually talked to myself quietly as I did so, or hummed a little tune to the quiet rooms as I went about collecting.

I had started talking a lot more, I was speaking almost more than I did before that winter started by the time the snow had begun melting again.

The flower’s in my mother’s garden were sprouting and blooming, little birds were easier to spot amongst the branches of the mongolia trees, and it was almost warm enough for me to start taking my lunch outside by the little fish pond my Uncle Ashur had instead of having.

Trade ships were coming by more frequently to our ports, the sea and channels were safer now that the melt had started. The city was busy, the palace was even busier. Maids running here and there with the spring cleaning, the kitchen staff removing everything from the pantries and cellars to take inventory for the markets that were opening up, the seamstresses were twittering about amongst themselves about the latest colors and fashions, the guards were cleaning their weapons and preparing for outdoors training again.

Itw as a little rockier than it would have been if my Uncles were here. They were the head stewards, head seamstress, captains of the guards, and royal advors, they organized, planned, and executed everything with a well practiced efficiency.

Clahadore, Lionel, and Bethany certainly had their hands full.

It was early in the day when two squires came bursting into the sitting room where I was, still staring out of the window into the garden.

Lionel had started when the doors were thrown open, clutching his chest as he turned to scold the two boys.

“What are you two barging in here like a storm!?”

“We’re sorry sir Lionel, but a ship has arrived-”

“A whole fleet of ships!”

“A fleet!?” Lionel looked at me before trying to usher both boys out of the room, “From where?”

“Reobeth Sir Lionel! The prince’s fleet! They just docked and-”

“And he’s on his way to the palace right now!”

“Oh.” Lionel stopped his gentle shoving of the boys, whipping around to look at me, my attention finally drawn away from the window. “Princess?”

I was quiet, not quite used to talking a lot just yet. We were supposed to leave for Reobeth in a few weeks, so what was the prince of the kingdom doing here? Was he here to fetch me?

“Princess.” Lionel had finally managed to shoo both of the squires out of the room, closing the door carefully on their continued chattering, “I received a letter the other day, I meant to discuss it with you this afternoon but perhaps now is better. I’ve been keeping the prince up-to-date on you, your recovery and your progress. Originally, when this all began, your father and the kingdom of Reobeth had an agreement. He would step down as long as you and your family were able to live a good life out in the countryside without disturbance. However, after the events of the day I arrived, My king and prince agreed that it would be best if his young majesty took over your care, being your god-father on your mothers side and your last living relative. However, with the people’s feeling about the Reobeth kingdom taking over with you as a living heir and the prince’s feelings about your health, it has been decided that you would stay here.”

I wondered if this was where he told me that I was to be killed, so that Reobeth would take over the theon like they had been planning too. If the fleet carried a force for the takeover and the consequently difficult transition period.

“His young magetsy does not wish for you to undergo the pressures of running the empire, especially at such a young age and after such tragedy, and he still wishes to be family to you, to take care of you as his niece and god-duaghter. So he has decided that he will remain here with you and run the kingdom as your regent until you have recovered fully and become of age.”

I nodded, my attention having gone back to the garden outside of the window. Lionel had been insisting that It was still too cold for me to go out, so I had to content myself with watching the flowers my mother had planted bloom from beyond the glass. The reds and blues were already blooming, the azalea bush I had loved to hide away in was starting to become green again.

Lionel went quiet, knowing that I had no qualms with what he had brought up and seeing that I was back to staring at the garden again.

Some time must have passed, because soon enough I heard footsteps and small voices of protest as people approached the family foyer.

Lionel opened the door before they could reach it, and after stepping out into the hallway gently closed it behind him.

I could hear him speaking to someone, more protests from whom I think is Bethany, before there was silence.

The door opened and closed again, only one person coming into the room.

I pulled my gaze away from the window, turning slightly to look at the prince from Reobeth. He looked shockingly like my mother. The same sharp gray eyes and similar light hair, the same nose and nearly the same softness about him. He was taller and a bit leaner than my mother was, his frame had been more slender and shorter.

I remember now that Mother had some cousins in Reobeth, though for some reason I don't believe he had mentioned they were the royal family.

“It's been a long time since we last saw each other. You were just a baby when we met so I doubt you remember me.” he spoke softly, his voice carried the same tunes my mother’s had, “I'm your god-father, you can call me Kaso if you would like.”

I smiled, “hello Uncle Kaso.”

He smiled back, gray eyes crinkling around the corners. “Hello Little Nokori.”

“Princess, it's time to wake up.” Lionel softly shook me awake, practically cooing as I shifted in the mound of blankets he had left me in. “did you sleep well?”

I nodded softly, wriggling out of the fluffy confines of the bedding as he chuckled.

“Good. Bethany is here to help you get ready. Once she's done with you we can go and look for the things you want to get.”

He stepped out of the room as Bethany slipped in. She gently brought me from the bed to the vanity with the help of two other girls. One of them ran to fetch a dress from my room while the other disappeared into my parents closet as Bethany came back with a damp cloth to clean my face with.

“Lionel says that you two are going to go scavenging for some things from your uncles.” she set the cloth down in the basket next to the vanity, reaching out to undo the braid she had done yesterday “do you want another braid today?”

I didn't say anything. Too busy thinking about what I should grab from whose room. I needed something from Uncle Ashur, I already figured out what I wanted from Andrea's room and from the triplets. Uncle Bjorn had a collection of little figures from the places he fought at, but what did uncle emeric have?

By the time I got out of my own thoughts Bethany and the girls had dressed me in a warm gray dress of mine with another of my father’s sweaters over it and tied it up with one of my mother’s silk ribbons that he used to keep his short hair out of his face.

My hair was braided again, this time in two with one on either side of my head.

“There, that's fit for today I think.” Bethany smiled, waving at me once more as she and the other two girls left letting Lionel back in.

“Alright princess, how should we do this?”

How should we do this indeed? It hadn't occurred to me the other night, but I still coulndt really walk around on my own yet. And having him hold me up by my side as we walked together would surely take too long.

“Should I carry you? Or would you like to try and do some walking around?”

In lieu of an answer I lifted my arms towards him.

“Carrying you it is!”

Nearly gleefully, he swept me up and got me settled in his arms. I was small enough that I could sit in the cork of his elbow with my knees over his other arm and have my arms around his neck or on his shoulder.

“Is it safe for her to be carried like that?” Clahadore quipped as the two of us left my parents room. I suppose it makes sense that he would be joining us.

“yes. Now princess, where to go first?”

First we headed to my Uncle Barret’s room. It was the farthest one away from my parents, positioned near the entrance to the interior palace hallways. He and Uncle Emeric were the strongest, many would call them bear-like in their appearance and strength.

Uncle Barrett's room seemed small for such a big man. Its walls were covered in tapestries from his homeland in the north, thick woven paintings of the great conquests of kings and fights between men and the giants of the mountains from old tales. The shelves were filled with figures, statuettes, knives, swords, jewels, or any other little thing he could slip away from a battlefield.

Uncle Atlan called it barbaric trophy keeping, little things he took from the places he was victorious in. Oftentimes he would pick it up from a person’s body, from a charred home, a broken city.

He and Uncle Ermeric were fighters, they had been soldiers for hire for a long time before they met my parents, which had been many years before they had my brother and I.

Within Uncle Barrett's room, on one of his packed dusty shelves, there was a crude little wood carving of a house.

It was by no means his greatest trophy that he took, if anything it was the one that most would never look at twice. There was no glittering, no reverence, no shine to it. It was just a small little wood block that looked as if it had been carved by a child. Next to it was a far more impressive one, a small little wooden house carved from a block of hickory wood.

They were both very important to Uncle Barret. The finely carved wood house had been made by a craftsman in the first village that he and Uncle Emeric had been hired to fight against. They had been victorious, and the man had offered my uncle his wealth in exchange for his family.

Uncle Barret took the carving. It was of their home, where the craftsman lived with his family, his wife and a little baby, and where his workshop was located.

Years later, many years later, Uncle Barret and Uncle Emeric returned there by my father’s side to deal with some enemy forces, to help the village this time.

When the work was done, a little boy had walked up to Uncle Barret and given him a carving ‘Like my papa did!’ he had whispered shyly.

It was from another little block of hickory, the same little house, carved by the next generation of craftsmen that would grow to live and work there.

I took both of them from my uncle Barrett's room.

“The good and bad are important to remember. They make us.”

Was what he had always said when my brother asked why he kept the trophies from places he had hurt. I suppose that would ring true for me as well now.

Uncle Emeric’s room was next. He was Barret’s older brother, and he was much bigger. If Uncle Barret was a bear then Uncle Emeric was a mountain.

He was perhaps one of the most gentle of my uncles. Every baby, when they were first introduced to the family, would be passed to him first. A tiny little baby in the hand of a mountain.

He was all of our godfathers. My cousins and I would always flock to him and he would carry us around or toss us up into the arms and catch us while booming with laughter.

His room was much like Uncle Barret’s, filled with things from their homelands, from their journeys, from their time overseas and across the lands. His shelves though were filled with little portraits of every one of my cousins and I. A portrait of when we were first born, varying ones of us throughout our childhood, little trinkets that we would find and give him.

For a birthday a few years ago my father had a portrait of all of my cousins and I commissioned for him, it hung across from his bed. I wanted to get that, and the tightly bound leather journal that he kept. It had entries from when each of us was born, our first steps, first words, and all about the little things we would do with him. It was pages upon pages of him gushing over each of us. The journal also included little notes and messages he would come up for us. Small things that he would say sometimes to make us feel better or to help us along in our lives. He would write them down when he said them, or when he thought of them to keep for when we needed them.

Next was Uncle Corentin’s room. He and Uncle Atlan were the craftsmen of our family. Uncle Atlan loved design, fashion, and the arts but Uncle Corentin was more of a swordsmithing man. He designed weapons and then forged them himself. Many of the swords, knives, daggers, bows, crests, and other smithing or weapons that my family had had were made by him.

His room was very flamboyant, as Uncle Atlan liked to put it. Colors everywhere, things of all shapes and all sizes and textured scattered about on the walls, floors, shelves, and chairs.

He called himself a collector, Uncle Kuro called him a hoarder.

I always loved his room. He was from the sands, like the triplets were, and he always had something burning or brewing in his rooms that filled it with heavy delicious scents.

What I wanted from him was a small music box that he had made. It played a little lullaby, one that every uncle of mine would often sing to us when we were little and having trouble falling asleep. It also served as a small storage box for trinkets, where Uncle Corentine put little sashes of his favorite teas, incense, and herbs. The box smelled just like he always did, like tea and food.

My Cousin Oliver had his room right next to his father’s, on the left. He was the third eldest of my cousins, a year or so younger than Kichi though their birthday was only a few days apart.

He was very bright, loved to read, and often he would sit with me with his nose in a book. I think that out of all of my cousins I spent the most time with him.

We were always reading with each other, happy to sit in silence with our books in front of us, leaned up against each other in the sunshine as we read.

His favorite books to read were collections of myths and fables. He loved them so much he had a small library of his own in his room. One of the rooms that would have been a study area was now filled with floor to ceiling bookshelves, a pile of pillows and blankets in the coroner was his personal reading area.

Hidden in his room, in a spot he had shown me only one before, was a well-worn notebook.

He had started writing his own book of myths, presenting the ones he knew and loved so much in a different way. Taking the varying perspectives of the many collections he had read from and combining them into a new one. He was about halfway through when he showed me it last time.

I slipped the unfinished book out of its hiding spot and then went to one of the bookshelves to grab his favorite book, one that his father had brought with him from their homelands.

Paxton’s rooms were on the right side of his father’s. They were just as messy and cluttered as Uncle Corentine’s. He loved to draw, people, animals, plants, blueprints, weapon designs, anything that he could he would draw. Paxton was only a year older than Haku and I, and he was often by his father’s side in the forge. He was learning the art of the trade, to make weapons and jewelry and little wonders from metal.

His sketchbooks were full of everything, his most recent one was nowhere to be found, it was probably in the throne room with him that day. He always carried it withhim.

I grabbed the one he had finished just last year. It had sketches of the dogs from the barracks, the forge, our uncles and cousins, the palace, and the gardens amongst its pages.

I went to Uncle Altan’s rooms next, which was as neat and fashionable as he was. He designed each of the children's rooms to best suit us. The furniture, the fixtures, the colors of the walls and the linens, all of it was drawn up and picked out by him. He also was in charge of most of my family’s wardrobe and stationary. He selected which colors look best of who and what style was most comfortable in - for you look best when you are comfortable, he would always say - he made sure we all looked put together.

His study was the only messy part of his quarters, with designs strewn about everywhere, samples of fabrics, colors swatches, embellishments, and bits and bobs all over the place.

His process was a messy one, but he always had the best and cleanest results of anyone in the field.

He had hundreds of pieces of jewelry, enough to fill a closet. However next to his bed on one of the nightstands there was a little box that held his most reassured pieces. There was a little bracelet made of stone, it was a baby’s bracelet so it was so tiny that no one could really wear it. He often wore it on a chain around his neck.

It was a bracelet that he had been given when he was a baby, and he had given it to each of my cousins and I when we were little as well. It was so small that we grew out of it in a year or so.

He wore it nearly everywhere, unless he was outside and working, because he said it had all of our energies in it now and it connected us to him and the family.

Clem’s room was attached to Uncle Atlan’s by a door near his study that led right into his son’s quarters.

Clem was a little ball of sunshine, older than Paxton but younger than Olive, always so full of energy and sass.

His favorite thing was rocks, he had a large bookshelf that was just full of them. Uncle Coretine had to make him one specially out of a thicker hardwood to support the weight of his collection.

The majority of them were crystals, shiny and rare rocks that he would be gifted or would buy at special markets across the lands or during festivals. A few of them were just plain rocks, from places he had really liked or ones that just looked odd and interesting.

His favorite was a little black pebble that he never was able to really identify. It was oblong, with one side rounded and the other slightly pointed. It was a deep dark black and it was often warm to the touch with an iridescent shimmer to it.

He always kept it in a little leather pouch in his pocket, he said it gave him good luck. He hadn't had it that day it seems, because the little pouch was in that little silver dish that Clem kept next to his bed. He would put it there every night for safekeeping and he would pop it back into his pocket every morning.

Sometimes if he was in a rush he would forget it.

I slipped the pouch into my pocket, maybe it would help me out a little bit too.

Uncle Kuro’s room was closer to my parents, just as Kichii’s was close to mine and my brother’s. Uncle Kuro was my father’s head guard and steward, so it made sense to have him so close by, Kichii would have one day filled the same role for my brother.

Uncle Kuro had many weapons in his room, he was raised an assassin after all so i suppose it made sense. His main weapon had been a set of knives or a pair of daggers, he normally had multiple hidden within the folds of his coats or tucked into the straps of his boots.

The one little tool that he used the most however was a small silver pocket watch, black with tarnish. It had been the first non-weapon gift he had ever received.

The first gift that wasn't meant to push him further down the path of a killer.

He always had it tucked safely away in specially made pockets in his coats and vests and shirts. Uncle Atlan had sewn each and every one of the tiny hidden pockets in himself.

I couldn't find it in his room. A quick word with Clahadore revealed that it had been with him when they recovered his body, but it had been saved. Set aside with other items of value and importance to the family before the bodies were properly sent to the afterlife.

He set out to fetch it for me personally, promising to ensure it was clean without ruining its aged look.

In the meantime I grabbed one of Uncle Kuro’s thick gray blankets. He would always wrap us up in it when we visited him for stories and thick hot chocolate with spices blended into it. He would bundle us up and set us in front of the fire and tell us all we wanted to know about the places further away than any of my cousin’s and I could ever imagine.

It still smelled like the warm cedars he used in his fires at night.

Next was Uncle Ashur’s room. Neat and tidy, as always.

He was a lot like father, liked having everything put away in its place. Mother was quite the opposite, he had everything thrown about everywhere. Uncle Kuro used to say that father would use Uncle Ashur’s room as a sanctuary for cleanliness when mother’s messes got too bad.

He always wore black gloves. Thick leather pens with soft lining in the winter and thinner lacey ones over the summer, with linen ones during the spring and fall.

I never knew why, I just know he always wore them. Father usually wore gloves too, he had a scar on the back of his left hand. It looked similar to when I burned myself on a hot baking pan fresh from the oven when swiping treats one day, it looked just like those little burns when it had mostly healed over. Father wore gloves to keep it out of sight, and to stay stylishly mysterious, my mother said.

I wonder if Uncle Ashur wore them for the same reason.

I took a pair of his gloves for each season. The thick padded ones for winter, with snowflakes embroidered into them in small white thread. Thin linen ones for summer, with a black lace overlay that laid out a design of flowers under a pagoda. Spring ones that had little flowers embroidered into a thicker linen. And his fall ones which were of a black leather, painted with golden leaves.

I took the ones he had worn the last year, ones that he had nearly worn out into threads.

Andraik’s rooms were next.

They were attached to his brothers’ which were attached to their fathers. I slipped through the triplets' rooms to get to him, I knew what I wanted to get from him.

There was a sword hanging on the wall in his study. Across from the wall of floor to ceiling bookshelves that he had filled past bursting. Uncle would have him clean it out, get rid of and donate the books he never touched or had only read once, only for Andraik to fill them right back up again in a matter of months. He and I were much the same.

Though Father just kept giving me bigger libraries for my growing collection.

Andraik had many swords in his collection, the wall across from his book shelves was full of them on ornate hangings and wall mounted shelves.

The one I was looking for was a baby’s sword. The first one he was given, completely blunt and so itty bitty that a toddler could hold and swing it around.

It was the first sword he was given, a few days after he turned three. Its blade was made of onyx, the handle was gilded in silver, and the sheath was a dark blue with little stars painted on it.

It was the first sword he practiced with as a little boy, and he let all of our cousins use it during their first practices as well.

It had gone through all of us, even me when I had some basic sword training when I was younger.

Next was the triplets' shared bedroom. Like my brother and I; Sahid, Amal, and Hanan all shared a bedroom. The room was a large circle, as it was located in one of the other towers of the interior palace that was torn down, and it was split into thirds.

Sahid’s section was on the right side of the entrance. His bed was a large four poster one with colorful gauzy fabrics and tulles hanging down from the canopy. His stuffed toys were lined up neatly at the head and foot of his bed in the order that he would take them to bed with him. Lions, bears, fish, dolls, snakes, and every other manner of animals All of them made out of fleeces and felts and fuzzy fabrics and stuffed to make them full and plush.

His favorite plushie sat proudly atop his pillows, looking down at all the other ones.

It was a small black horse plush, He slept with it every night and it had to be repaired every now and then from how much he used it. When he and his brothers first arrived here Sahid brought the pony plush everywhere with him.

Amal’s section of the room was to the left of the entrance. It was painted green with little murals of leaves and different flowers on the walls and his section of ceiling. His bed was a big round pillow with blankets and pillows surrounding it, it almost looked like a big cushy bird's nest.

His plushies were all arranged around the bed on the inside, right up at night the little wall made from the diverting of the pillow.

Amal had more dolls than Sahid did, and the few animal ones he did have were butterflies, bees, snakes, or snails.

His favorite was in the center of the bed, amongst the little pile of blankets that he would often leave there every morning after climbing out.

It was a little white snake plushie, with big black eyes that were embroidered on. He loved it too much to bring it outside of the bedroom with him anywhere. Uncle Ashur was worried that his habit of plucking snakes up from the ground and cuddling with them was caused by the beloved plush, but Amal would bawl whenever he tried to take it away to bring him away from the snake habit.

Hanan’s section of the room was straight across from the door. His bed was a circle like Amal’s but he had a large canopy that covered it, making a little tent shape around it.

His stuffed toys were all over the place, scattered around the room. Some here trailed into Sahid’s section, others were tossed into Amal’s bed, though most were in little piles around his own section.

His favorite plushie was buried amongst them all, a black bird with a silver painted beak and big embroidered stars in its eyes. It was big enough that its wings could wrap around his shoulders. Uncle Atlan had sewn some buttons on it just so the toy’s wings could be connected and Hanan could carry it around like a shoulder bag, though Amal was usually the one who ended up carrying it around with him for Hanan.

The last room to visit was Kichii’s. Itw as right next door to my brother’s and mine. His room was much different than Uncle Kuro’s, even if they were both fulfilling the same role and had similar backgrounds as failed assassins.

Kichii’s rooms were painted powder blue, his furniture was all white and fluffy and fuzzy everywhere. A large portion of his bedroom was taken up by the big marble vanity and mirror that was stationed next to his closets.

Some of the vanity drawers had little hair and makeup tools, some had special little jewelry pieces. A majority of the drawers were filled with ribbons.

Silk ones, cotton ones, linen, complex lace, little embroidery patterns, blues, greens, yellows, reds, browns, painted ones, multi-colored dyed ones, simple little lace ones, and many many more. We always joked that if there was a ribbon, Kichii had it.

He would use them to tie up his hair in his usual pony-tails or braids.

HIs favorite was a ribbon that had a ribbon of pale blue lace in a flower pattern on top of a gray silk ribbon. He used it all the time, whenever it wouldn't clash with the rest of his outfits.

It was sitting in its special little crystal dish on the vanity top.

“That's everything.” I murmured as Lionel and I left Kichii’s room.

“Are you sure?”

“Everything I want for now. I want to keep all of it, but these are their special things.”

“Do you…” He paused, glancing back at the doors that led to mine and my brother’s room. “Do you want something from your brother?”

I was silent for a while, when I did speak I don't know if i really said it aloud or not. Either way, Lionel understood and took me back to my parent’s room with all my little treasures.

“I'm not ready to go back there…”

I woke up to Lionel trying to move me back to bed. I must have fallen asleep against the window.

“Why were you on the floor?” He is muttering under his breath.

He may have asked me, but I don't think he expected me to answer. Father used to call those Rhetorical questions, when a person asks you something but doesn't really want or expect you to answer.

It would explain why he joted a bit when I yelled as I answered him.

“ I wanted to see the stars.”

He paused for a moment, looking at me and then back to the window for a moment.

“The stars… Is. Is that why you were crawling on the floor last night? When you got hit by the curtain rod?”

I nodded, still not used to speaking, especially so early in the morning. My throat has been aching since yesterday as well.

“Princess if you want to do something then please let me know. It's wonderful that you are feeling well enough to move around on your own, but you are still very ill and are not fully capable of doing strenuous activity yet. The doctor said you shouldn't be allowed to walk around on your own for a while…”

I just nodded again. I wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying anymore, I was so tired… and hungry

When was the last time I was hungry?

I had been eating, I know that. Lionel never stopped commenting on how much more I was eating now then when he first came here. He always smiled bright whenever I ate something and he was chipper than ever when talking to any of the other staff in the castle about my progress.

I had been eating, but I don't think I had been hungry for anything these past few months. Right now though, all I really wanted was a nice slice of bread with jams and some cheese on the side and then a nap.

Well, maybe I could eat and then go get some of their things, and then nap.

Yes, that sounded better. I wanted to eat some bread, the puffy thick slices that looked like books stuffed together on a shelf with jam and cheese, maybe even some tea. Then I could go around and gather their special things, maybe some favorite items, clothes, books, journals, little mementos to keep for them. After that i could bundle up with it all and take a nice long nap in Mother’s and father’s bed.

“Princess?” Lionel had stopped talking at some point, I must have gone too quiet. Which is odd if I think about it, I had been nothing but quiet since we first met. Perhaps I had gone still in his arms, or he had asked a question that I failed to answer as I wasn't paying attention to what he was saying at the moment.

“Princess, are you alright? You seem… dazed.”

I think that was a good word for it. I feel dazed. Like I'm walking through a foggy forest, or that my mind is clouded with cotton. I don't really feel at peace but I'm not upset as I have been for a while. It felt like there was nothing to feel anymore for me, ironic I suppose.

“Princess?”

He was sitting down on the bed, glancing back at the door as if to check if someone was coming or not. He probably was waiting for the doctor to come check on me this morning.

“Bread.”

We stared at each other for a moment in silence. I had meant to say much more than just bread, or course. I had meant to ask for my breakfast and some tea and then to figure out how I could go about getting to all of their rooms today.

“Bread…?” He was definitely confused, but before I could further explain what I wanted he broke out into a wide smile, “You want something to eat?”

I nodded, smiling back a little I think. His joy at something like this was catching I suppose.

“You want bread, what do you want with it?”

“Jam. cheese. Please…” My voice was getting quieter everytime i spoke, it sounded as scratchy as my throat felt too.

“Bread with jam and cheese, and I’ll have them bring tea to help soothe your throat. Does that sound right?”

I nodded again and he smiled even bigger as he hurriedly excused himself to the door to place the order for me.

The doctor had come and gone by the time Bethany came in with breakfast. She and Lionel were whispering to each other, heads practically touching as he told her of what happened this morning.

The doctor had left a special honey, one my mother often used, for my throat and voice to help it recover and get used to being used again.

“So princess.” Lionel was back at my bedside, Bethany smiling and giving me a little wave as she slipped out of the room, “How is your breakfast?”

I had eaten all of it while he had had his short and quick conversation with Bethany, I could feel some of the jam still sitting on my cheek as I hadn't gotten to wipe it off uet. I nodded while I dabbed at the spot on my face with a napkin. It was good bread and even better jam.

I wondered if the chef still had any of my mother's favorite lingonberry jam, I would love to have some of that. It was the best treat when he would let us lick some of his spoon.

“Good! Now that you’ve eaten a bit you should rest. The doctor said you were recovering well but that you still need quite a bit of rest to fully heal.”

I shook my head. It wasn't time to rest now. As sleepy as I was I needed to get my special things from all of them. I already had a little list forming in my head of what I wanted to get from who.

“No?” he looked nearly shocked at my little protest, was this the first time had not agreed or gone along with him? Possibly, I hadn't really been in a protesting mood.

“ I want-”

“Hold on,” He had interrupted my scratchy little voice rather quickly, rushing to a small pile of notebooks on the table by my father’s side of the bed. “Uh… this one doesn't look too important. Here” He handed me a small little notepad, its first few pages had random little notes and some doodles on them but it was otherwise empty. “The doctor said you shouldn't speak too much yet, so try writing some of it down for now. Can you write?” a panicked look crossed his face as he thought his plan would work out.

I nodded quickly, I had been reading and writing since I could hold a pen and a book, and took both out of his hand. Jotting down my request before handing it back.

“You want to get some things from your uncles’ and cousins’ rooms?”

A little nod from me, he glanced at the notepad again before looking back up. “Alright, webcam does that. But first you need to rest a bit. You were up for a while last night and ended up falling asleep on the floor.”

I shook my head, reaching out for the notepad again.

“Princess.” he sighed, giving me the notes back, watching as I wrote something else. “We will go and get the things you want today, I just want you to rest for a little while. You're shaking like a leaf already from the exhaustion of doing so much. Just an hour or two for a nap and then we can head off. Does that sound alright?”

I paused in my writing, looking up at him and nodding after abit.

“Very good. Now, I will wake you in an hour or so, so let's get you settled for a nap and afterwards we can go gathering.”

I had no more protests for him as he situated the blankets and pillows around me as he usually did. Fluffing them and wrapping them right up to my chin snugly before shutting the curtains to block out what little light they did.

I stared at the ceiling for a while after he left. Perhaps my body was tired, but I truly didn't wish to sleep right now. I tossed and turned for a moment before a familiar smell came to me.

One of the little pillows that Lionel had stuck around me smelled just like my father’s cologne, faded surely but it was still there. A little sigh ;eft me as I cuddled deeper into that pillow, trying to smother myself with his cologne.

The scent made it feel like I was sniggling right up to my father, curled up in his lap with my head against his chest. He would run his hands down my hair and rub my back as I slipped off to sleep while he finished up some work. Then in the morning i would wake up either between him and mother in their bed, or curled next to him in my own my arms holding onto him deathly tight.

I slipped off to sleep just like that, curled up in the piles of pillows and blankets wrapped around me. My nose was buried in the pillow that had some of hissagey cologne still on it.

It was wonderful the moment that I slipped off to bed.

I was able to kill many, but it was too little and too late. By the time I had done anything they were all dead.

That bastard of a king had stepped off the dias, his spear had run through Hanan and Ashur killing his own son, his sword had clashed with Naiser’s but my golden eyed friend wasn't able to do anything. Too busy trying to protect his son and husband, Kiaan was nowhere to be seen amongst the bloody scene, had he escaped with the prince? Run for the princess?

Good, they needed to get out. If at least some of us could live then it wouldn't have been worthless.

I watched, horrified as Naiser was cut down by his father. The monster climbed back up the stairs to his throne, smug faced and bloody.

Kichii made a break for him, right as I was stabbed through.

He managed to slit my father’s throat, right as my old man stabbed him through the heart and pulled the blade down to his stomach.

Had we all died? For him to still live!?

It couldn't be. If he still lived then the three of them wouldn't for long.

Or worse, he may just keep her alive.

I could move, barely but I could. Everyone else was dead in the room except us two, I could kill him with my final breaths, I could keep them safe.

I tried to get up, with all my pain and rage and grief that was flooding my body I had almost done so.

But I couldn't, not before Haku was there.

His father’s sword in his hands, plunging deep into the chest of the vile man that had murdered us all.

Killed his own grandfather, with tears running down his face as he screamed. It was filled with rage and grief yet yet recognized.

I was glad for a moment, the three of them at least should make it out alive. Maye even get help in time to save some of the others that were not yet dead.

For a moment at least there was hope. But then his head fell off his shoulders, and thumped down the steps. One after the other it hit, rolling to a stop right in front of his father’s body.

Golden eyes staring into each other as they both lost their life.

The door was thrown open and she ran right to Naiser's body, throwing herself over the dying life of her father.

The scream she let out when she saw her brother’s head separated from her body would haunt me even after I died.

___________________________________________________________________

It was the last words of my uncle, That's what Lionel had said. He had to have it written down, word for word, as a testament to what had happened.

They weren't the last words of my Uncle Kuro, he had said one last thing to Lionel before he breathed his last breath.

“Kiaan… where?”

“Dead. Cut himself open. I think he tried to kill her as well, in fear or grief I do not know. She was injured when I found her but I think she doesn't yet-”

“Then. Any of the others. Are they?”

Lionel had looked up at the knights and medics in the room, none had survived.

None but me.

“No… All of them, I'm afraid…”

“Then… she’s…no. No no no!”

He had tried to sit up, to move towards me.

But he couldn't. He was dying, he couldn't be saved, he knew that. But he seemed to know what i didnt at the time.

That what I was about to suffer was worse.

“You must, you must finish it.”

“What?”

“Finish it.”

“Finish what Sir Kuro? What needs to be done?” Lionel had to hold him down, he was starting to spasm.

“Finish it, kill her.”

I cannot remember anything past that. I screamed, so loud and so desperately as I saw my brother's head.

I blacked out, slumping over my father’s body.

Lionel hadn't done what he was asked, I don't know if I wish he did or not.

He had told Bethany this, the two of them had argued about my mother and his attempt to kill me and my Uncle’s last words came up. What Bethany told me this morning came to mind as I sat there, tears running down my cheeks as I stared at the stars.

– “He tried to do it because he couldn't… He didn't think he was strong enough to be alone. And He didn't want you to suffer either, so he tried to bring you both to the rest of them. And I know he regrets it, I know that if he had known that you would still be here then he would be here too. He wouldn't have left you alone willingly. He was scared, scared that you were going to suffer at the hands of that man-”--

I understood what both of them had done. Though I know Bethany does not understand what I do, and that Lionel doesn't under astdn ti at all.

In our culture, family is everything. Through the blood that flows through our veins or the blood that is shed on the battlefield, Through the trails of birth or the trials of life, whatever family it is found or biological,

it is everything.

Without family there is nothing. No reason to live, no way to live, no way of life.

It is better to die with the rest of your family than to be left alone.

My mother knew that, Uncle Kuro knew that.

Bethany and Lionel didn't understand. Neither of them were from here, neither of them knew of our waysm of our lives as much as those raised here.

Betnahy knew in a sense why my mother had done what he did, what he was trying to prevent, to protect me from -being truly alone, my grandfather, the grief, the pain-.

Lionel didn't not understand it at all.

It was one of the many reasons the maids, guards, stewards, gardeners, butlers, chefs, even Clahadore were so confused by my living. By his efforts to keep me alive.

It was one of the reasons the King and Prince of Reobeth wanted to bring me back to their kingdom as quickly as possible.

They were afraid that One of my own people, the ones who served my mother and father, would send me off to meet them. It was what was usually done in such circumstances.

To send off a child left behind with no one else to call family, it was a mercy to our eyes.

Lionel was so afraid of it. To the point that he refused to let anyone near me without him being nearby. This morning with the maids had only been allowed because Bethany was there and he wasn't far from me.

He slept a few paces from whatever door I was behind at night, his sword kept near him ready to spring into action to protect me from what we saw as a mercy, from what he saw as a horrible thing.

I don't know if I am glad to still be alive.

I'm tired and in so much pain. I'm lonely, I am alone. Everyone I had ever known, every last person of my family had been killed off in a day, while I was left unharmed.

I had so many questions.

Why hasn't anyone come for me? Why was there no one sent to kill me? Why didn't my mother wait for me to go first? How could any of them die?

My uncles were all skilled people, fighters, assassins, soldiers, nobles, knights.

People with training, a life lived in battle and fighting. They shouldn't have been able to be killed so easily.

My cousins should have been able to hide, to run, the older ones should have survived the fight that they fought alongside our parents.

How is it that only my mother made it out?

How is it that I was the only one to survive?

So many questions…

Why is it that Lionel and his men showed up that same day?

My father had said that the war would be going on for nearly another season, at least until the end of winter. So they shouldt have been here mid-fall. Why, on the day that they all died, did he come?

Why without the prince? Without the King? Reobeth was a warring kingdom, their kings fought alongside their men. They didn't just sit away from the battlefield and command the flights from their thrones.

None of it made sense.

Or maybe I was just tired.

That was all I had been since it happened. Hurt, sad, and tired.

At least I could finally see my stars. Father had promised to get some named after me, to have them written down by the scholars in honor of my brother and I.

He had ones picked out already for us.

It took me a few moments of searching the sky to find them. A little bright blob on the left of the Train formation. It had once been two stars that had, over hundreds upon hundreds of years, slowly grown closer and closer together until they were touching and looked like a singular glowing speck in the sky.

It reminded him of Haku and I, two little souls together as one.

As I looked at the stars, the memoirs of my family seemed to bleed into my mind, one after another. Happy memories of times now long gone as I stared at the sky for what must have been hours.

My tears started to fall again as I remembered what my uncle Kuro had told Lionel that day.

___________________________________________________________________

It had been a long day, surely, perhaps even tiring if I were a lesser man. But I am not a lesser man.

Maintaining two lives amongst the guarded walls of the palace was exhausting though. Having to keep that old king believing that we were on his side in their pointless war. Keeping him happy, keeping him delusional.

If we kept him so, this war would end sooner rather than later, with less lives lost and more people returning to their happy families. And then we would all disappear, to live happily out on our own, our little found family in peaceful bliss for the rest of our days and the rest of our children's days.

That was how it was supposed to be.

We truly thought anything of it, none of us did, when we were summoned to the throne room by that bastard in a crown. He probably wanted to rant to us again, complain about pointless losses on the battlefields, demand frivolous explanations about our tasks, all useless things he used to take up our time.

We were all summoned. Ashur, Naiser, Kiaan, Corentin, Bjorn, Emeric, and myself, even the children. The little princess stayed in her room, she had been feeling unwell recently. From the stress of the war and that old king’s pressure on her no doubt. I don't know what it is, but he is oddly obsessed with her. Out of all of his grandchildren, she is his favorite.

Perhaps it's because she is the only granddaughter. Or because he himself had only had a daughter before adopting Ashur and Naiser. Does she remind him of her? Regardless, his focus on her is too much. It rubs me the wrong way.

I need to look into why.

Still that would have to wait until this thing was over with. The sooner we are out of this meeting the better. We all have things to do, unlike him.

By the time I arrived most of the others were here. I was joined on my way by Kichii, who was watching Hanan today. The three of us made idle conversation, the young boy was definitely getting better at lip reading, being able to answer me faster than I was able to finish signing to him.

“Kuro.”

My father called me from the King’s side. How he could choose to serve that man over Naiser is beyond me. He knows the atrocities that he has committed.

Still, however much I may hate his master, he is my father and I will not shun him. Not when we have so little family left with us.

“Father.” I met him halfway on the stairs leading up to the raised dais that the throne sat on. He wanted to go over the usual things. Kichii’s training, my training, I ate, was Kichii eating. What we were doing, what the guards were doing, if there were any suspicious people within the walls- within our ranks- that we had noticed, whom we had gotten rid of since last we spoke, all the usual things an ex-assassin asks his son who had once walked the same path.

He focused heavily on the topic of traitors this time around, the king must be getting paranoid then. Who wouldn't be, if you were as vile as that thing on the throne was.

Was he still a man after all he had done?

I hoped so, men could be killed after all.

Once the rest had filtered into the room I was waved off, my father returning to his master’s side and I to Naiser.

All of us were here, Ashur with his children; Noble Andranik, protective Sahid, gentle Amal, and kind Hanan. Altan with his bright little son Clem. The Bear-like brothers Emeric and Bjorn, both quite literally larger than life. Corentin with his boys Olive and Paxton. Myself and Kichii, standing next to their royal highnesses. Little Haku, his mother Kiaan and Naiser, his father.

Seventeen of us, out of the eighteen. I don't think they bothered to count, to see which was missing.

Or Perhaps it was purposeful, to leave her out of this.

I fear what that means, and I have seen enough to fear next to nothing.

We all stood there, gathered in front of the dais. Naiser in front with Kiaan and Haku by his side, I stood slightly to the right of him and Kichii right next to the boy. Andranik was herding his brothers into place besides Ashur. Altan was smoothing over Clem’s messy hair and fussed up outfit, Emeric prodding Bjorn into a proper posture. Corentin fidgeting with Olive’s hand in his, Paxton leaning tiredly against his father’s side.

None of us were expecting it. None of us were expecting it at all.

All of us, every one of my brothers, the ones I had gained through trial and bloodshed on the battlefield, knew what the man on the dais before us was capable ofm and still we did not expect this.

The children, warned and warned over and over again about the madness of their thing that led their kingdom did not expect it.

Even Kichii and I, the ones who had witnessed so much of it with our own eyes, did not see it coming in the slightest.

Even with all we had been doing. Allying ourselves with Reobeth, with the enemy. Working against the king, working to dethrone him, working to free ourselves of this life and the burdens it had saddled us with, working to free our children from it. We saw none of it, until it was far too late.

I do not know how the guards managed to stay hidden, where they were hiding, how they slipped out so soundlessly while that bastard droned on and on.

Suddenly, I saw it. The flicker of movement from out of the corner of my eye. Right near bright little Clem.

The King’s tone changed, he screamed at us -“Traitors!” -

And the first blade fell. Right through the blonde, sunny smiled boy. Atlan’s flower child, our darling Clem, crumpled to the ground. Mouth opened in a silent scream as first one blade pierced him, through the chets and out the mouth and then another, pinning him to the ground as he fell.

Atlan wailed, went to hold his boy, but Emeric was quicker.

He threw him aside, into Bjorn who hid the sobbing father behind himself, as his older brother lunged at the two guards, tearing them in half with his hands.

But it was too late. Far too late.

I tried to move, but my father was on me in an instant. If there had ever been any doubt in my mind about the difference in our abilities, it was erased at this moment. The disparity between us was clear. An assassin that had lived a full life as a killer, had breathed and slept and killed as an assassin for his full life, verus one who had barely made it out of his first mission alive, one who had abandoned life as soon as he could.

I didn't stand a chance.

None of us did.

Atlan was next, followed soon after by Bjorn. Emeric raged, but it did nothing to stop the five spear tips that held him to the ground as two swordsmen plunged their blades into him again and again, into his blood covered the floor, long after he stopped moving.

Andranik screamed, sword clashing into another man as he fought, blood was streaming down his chest.

Sahid laid on the floor, a sword put straight through him , the man who held it sat nearly severed in half in front of him. Amal was holding him, sobbing silently. Blood from his brother's wound was on his front, the eldest triplet had jumped in front of the blade meant for him. He was next anyways, a coward of a swordsman slitting his throat while another ran Andranik though after chopping his hand clean off. The three were in a pile on the floor.

Ashur was fighting, still fighting, I don't know if he knew what had happened to three of his sons. But I saw his face when Hanan cut open before him.

The man who did it fell quickly to the elder prince’s blade, but he was killed even faster while he cradled his dead youngest to his chest.

By the time I was able to throw my father off it was too late to save any of them.

Corentin was pinned to the floor by a sword through his neck, Olive to the wall by one through his gut, and Paxton’s tear stained face stared blankly at the ceiling while his wounds weep onto the floor.

With the keys secure and my access to the rest of my family’s room safely in my lap I was able to rest.

I had certainly talked too much today, my voice wasn't coming out anymore even if I was trying to speak.

Lionel was puttering about the room, fixing the pillows around me, straightening up the bed which had just been freshly made by some of the maids that Bethany had sent over, and drawing the thin gauzy curtains that my mother loved shut over the bright windows.

“These curtains certainly don't block much light…” he was staring at the barely darkened room, the material was thin and light making it so you could see out of the room even with them closed. They cast pretty shadows of different colors across the walls as the sunshine filtered through them. “Maybe they have some heavier ones in storage somewhere that we can put up?”

“His Majesty preferred these.” one of the girls motioned to the curtains, “they aren't meant to block out light, they're meant to soften it throughout the room.”

“But… curtains are meant to block light. How is she going to take a nap if the room is this bright?”

The two of them continued to bicker back and forth as I settled lower into the soft pillows that were on my father’s reading couch. It was just as comfy as I remembered in here and it still smelled like the perfumes my mother would wear and spritz around the room.

I was falling asleep right where I was, curled up in the pile of pillows that Lionel had propped up around me and snuggling deeper into the blanket that he had grabbed from the end of their bed. It was the soft gray one that my mother would use like a cloak on cold mornings and in winter evenings. He would throw it around his shoulders slip his arms through some of the folds and walk around as it billowed behind him like a fluffy cape.

I could almost forget what had happened like this, it was almost like I was back to when they were still here. Curling up and dozing off my parents whispered with their heads close together right next to me while the moon rose higher and higher up in the window.

Almost.

Lionel gently shook me from my dozing, insisting that I couldn't sleep on the couch. He scooped me up and gently settled me onto my parent's bed, helping me get tucked in and comfortable.

“I’ll be right outside in the sitting room if you need me.” He smiled softly at me before slipping out of the door and closing it quietly behind him.

I had meant to stay awake for a bit longer, to look around and start gathering some treasures from my mother and father, to find something to stash all the things I wished to gather later tonight from my brother cousins, and uncles. Instead, I slipped off to sleep, the fastest I had in a long time.

Happily wrapped up in the blankets my parents used to wrap me up in whenever it was storming outside and I was too terrified to sleep by myself. Curled up against the pillows they would turn into little mountains and fortresses when my brother and I wanted to play castles and dragons with them.

I slept through dinner, which I barely remember Lionel waking me up for and carefully helping me eat in my half-asleep state. Then I slept through the quick visit from the palace doctor, the worried mumbling between him and Lionel sounding far off as I drifted back to my cozy dreams.

I didn't wake up until the small sliver of the moon was shining bright and high through the large window that overlooked the garden from the treetops. Mother’s and father’s room was situated over the family foyer, their big arched window sat right on top of the grand window that looked out from between the two Mongolia trees. Their view peered out from between the pink flowering branches.

The lightweight curtains barely blocked my view of the stars, the colorful muslin allowing the glowing sparks to be seen from where I was lying.

Still, I wanted to see them even clearer than they were now.

I carefully pushed myself up from the bed, untangling the blankets and pillows from around me as I moved to the edge of the bed. It was higher off the ground than the others, often-times when I was smaller my parents would need to help me up and down it.

Now though, as I swung my legs on its side, my feet could reach the plush carpet on the floor beneath it. I tried to put some weight on my shaky legs, but they began to buckle beneath me once again.

How would I get to the window? I wanted to move the curtains and see the stars without any interference, like how my father would show them to me when he would rock me to sleep in his arms when I was little.

Standing in front of the window, the curtains held to the side by the small hook on the wall, swaying back and forth as he would sing little songs about the lights in the sky and pet my hair until I fell asleep in his hold.

I wanted to see them again, to point out and name them as my brother and I had done for so long. To recall the stories and history behind the ones that my father would tell us about.

There was far more furniture in this room than there was in the one I had been staying in. There were tables and couches close to the bed and window, I could use them to hold myself up or to pull myself along to the window.

The arching glass reached the floor, so I would be able to sit on the stone near it to look out of the window. I wouldn't have to try and pull myself up by the curtains to see anything.

Pulling myself off of the bed and onto the thick woven rug that lay underneath the bed that my mother had gotten from his homelands, I landed on my knees. Raising myself on them shakily I reached out to cling onto the draping blankets of the bed.

I carefully pull myself along the bedside, gently shuffling on my knees as I do. Slowly, very slowly, and painfully I make my way across the bed to the dark wood end table at its head. I bring my arms away from the bed, stretching them up and out towards the solid table at my side. It takes more effort to keep myself pulled up on the hard surface than it did to pull and grasp at the blankets and bedsheets.

From one surface to another, from one piece of familiar furniture to the next, I pulled and shuffled my way to the window. Off of one woven rug onto another soft carpet and off of that onto the stone floor, I dragged myself along the floor. Shuffling along on my knees and dragging myself along with the furniture.

Clinging to the soft sides of lounges or heavy blankets, handing off of the sides and back of the high claw-footed couches and chairs, or pulling myself along by the table tops and sides of tables, desks, and towering bookshelves.

Slowly, ever so slowly, and painfully I brought myself from the bed to the window. I had to crawl across the last bit of the floor, dragging myself across the stones until I could press up against the cold glass.

Brushing the curtains aside I slide up as close as I can, leaning against the clear panes and fogging them up with my breath. The curtains fluttered shut around me, cooning me against the window as I stared breathlessly up at the stars that shone through the sky.

I could see the familiar shapes and clusters of glowing dots in the inky drapery of the night sky. The names and stories my father would whisper to my brother and I would flood back into my memory as I gazed upon them all.

The little sparkling groups and solo stars that my brother and I had named ourselves and come up with countless stories for were shining brightly at me. The laughter and little arguments would have returned to me as I stared at them fondly.

I turned to look at him, not wanting to look away from the pretty scene in the garden before me but it was rude to not watch someone when they were talking to you.

“We found you on the floor after the curtain rod fell on you, but how did you get there? Why were you over there? Was something wrong? Were you looking for someone?”

I wanted to see the stars, I was trying to get to the window so I could see them. I would have walked over and moved the curtain aside, but I was having trouble doing that. I looked down at my legs, I wondered if they were any better now. Will I be able to walk tonight? I still wanted to see the stars, and I wanted to go and get some things from the rooms of my parents and uncles and cousins and some things from my brother’s side of our room.

I drew my arms further into the sleeves of my father's to-big sweater. It wasn't what I asked for this morning, but I was certainly very happy to be wearing it. It felt so formatting, almost like he was still here and giving me a little hug. It made me want to gather things from all the rest of my family even more. I wanted to be surrounded by them in whatever way I could be now, to be with them even if it was just with their things.

“Princess?”

“I want to sleep in my parent's room.”

Lionel went quiet, a perturbed look on his face. We stared at each other for a while in silence, the snow falling past the window casting little dancing shadows into the rest of the room.

“Are you sure?” was all he asked, worried about painting his features. “The last time… it made your condition worse the last time.”

“I want to be in their room.” I curled up more into my father’s pale green sweater. Lioenl’s eyes bored me as he considered it.

“Ok. Let's go get you set up in there then, it's about time for you to take a little nap anyway. Are you done with your tea?”

I nodded softly, letting him take the little teacup away from me and set it back down on the tray that sat on the table to my left. He gently picked me up and took me into the hall.

“Please fetch the head of the house staff, the princess would like to sleep in her majesty’s quarters tonight, so we need to make some arrangements,” he spoke to one of the guards that stood by the door, I recognized him. He was one of the ones who often sparred with my cousins during their sword lessons.

He nodded and rushed off, leaving the other young man to guide Lionel down the long hall, up the curving staircase, and towards my parent's room.

The door must have been locked, because instead of entering he helped me sit into one of the hallway’s chairs as we waited for whoever he had sent to be fetched.

“Princess.” He was speaking quietly again, I must have gone into a little daze again. “If it gets too much, just let me know. It won't be any trouble to get you back to the guest room where you’ve been staying.”

I nodded to show I understood and he smiled again.

We had to wait for a little while, it felt much longer but perhaps that was just because I longed to be in my parent's room again.

Sometimes, when my brother and I were much smaller, our mother and father would let us sleep with them in their massive bed. We would spend all night curled up against them, falling asleep listening to their voices rumble in their chests as they spoke of the day's events or told us little stories. We would wake up to our mother curling his fingers through our hair and our father’s golden eyes gazing at us like we were the world.

Their room was a dark gray with accents of greens and gold. Mother always had vases filled to bursting with flowers and herbs and whatever other greenery he could find all around their quarters. Their bed was made of black wood with four posters carved with dragons curling around them as they climbed towards the canopy at the top. The canopy was made of wood too, with visions of mountains and the heavens carved and painted into the underside of them, so you could see the pictures when lying in bed. In the summer light, gauzy fabric in pale colors would hang and drape over the canopy top and down the sides, making it seem like it floated in the middle of the room as if any breeze would sway the swaths of curtains around the bed. In the winter heavier curtains would be drawn tightly around the bed at night to keep it warm and cozy on the inside.

“Hello again Sir Lionel.'' The sound of a stiff voice came from down the hall as the guard from earlier returned and took his place on the other side of me. The man he brought with him was Clahadore. He served under my Uncle Daro, who was in charge of all things relating to the palace's upkeep and staffing. I suppose with Uncle Daro gone, Clahadore had taken charge of his duties.

“Clahadore, The princess wishes to”

“To sleep in their majesty’s chambers, yes I am aware.”

I didn't have much interaction with Clahadore, but I can remember I never really liked him. He didn't like my Uncles and I think that was why, though if he was always this standoffish then perhaps that was another reason.

“Brilliant, the door please then.”

“Would it not be better for her higHer Highnessep in her chambers?”

“The princess has requested to sleep in their Majesties', I'm sure you can understand why a grieving child would wish to do so, yes?”

“She isn't a child, she's the princess of this empire. She should sleep in her chambers until the master chambers are empty and set up properly for her.”

“She is a child, regardless of status.” Lionel gritted out, gesturing something to the two guards next to me, “Besides that, the chambers of the royal family are not to be disturbed. Maintained, but not changed. I believe we discussed this already?”

“We have.”

“Brilliant.”

The two guards next to me hadn't moved when Lionel motioned to them, instead, they were glancing back and forth between the two as they argued.

“The door then.” Lionel waved at the door behind him

“No, I think not.”

“Pardon?”

“You are from here Sir Lionel so I shall pardon you. Around here rulers do not just move into their predecessor's quarters before they are cleaned out and prepared. The princess should remain in her rooms until these are ready.”

“Clahadore, unlock their master's chambers.”

I hadn't seen Lionel mad before, but I think that if this goes on any further then I will soon.

“I outrank you here and I will not allow such a -”

“I would like to sleep in my parent's room tonight.” I finally spoke up, causing both men to whip their heads around to me.

“Princess I will have these rooms ready for you by the end of the week, until then-”

“I don't want them changed.” I stared at him, a frown pulling at my mouth “I want to sleep in my parent's room.”

“Well, I-”

“She outranks you here Klahadore” Lionel was grinning wide as he once again gestured towards the door, “So please do unlock the door from her highness.”

Clahadore set his jaw, glaring daggers at Lionel, before turning and bowing to me as he went to do just that.

Lionel picked me up and walked me into my parent's room, as we passed Klahadore I reached out causing him to stop.

“Yes, princess?” Clahadore’s smile was sickly sweet and seemed too tight for his face.

“The key please.”

“Pardon?”

“I don't want any of my family’s rooms touched, none of their things. So I want the key.”

I would need it to get into their rooms later to gather some treasures and things to curl up with. I hadn't thought about whether the rooms would be locked or not earlier but if the key to all their rooms was here I may as well grab it.

Bethany had left after finishing up with my hair, leaving me and Lionel in the guest room with my lunch, or maybe it was brunch? I was having trouble telling the time apart anymore. These past few months had felt either like years that dragged on or minutes that flew by too fast to remember.

“Would you like to have lunch by the window again?” Lionel was smiling as he crouched next to me. He was a lot bigger than I had remembered or thought of him.

I was still staring at my father’s sweater sleeve, playing with the fabric. I still wanted to see their things, their rooms, the room that I shared with my brother. I wanted to see the stars and the garden.

Looking out the window I could see that the sun was still in the sky, too early to look at the stars.

“Can… Can I eat in the garden?”

“The garden?” Lionel looked at the tray of food, the small china plate still steaming from the heat of the fresh pastry, before glancing out the window. “The one outside?”

Were Not all gardens outside? Maybe he was asking if I meant the exterior one that the guests could use or the interior one that was for the royal family.

I shook my head softly, “The inside one.”

“The inside one…” Lionel looked more confused but still nodded slowly. “Of course. The inside one. Let me just ask them to… um.”

He stood quickly and poked his head out of the door, speaking hushedly to the guards stationed outside of it. I could hear the two men, the ones from this morning I think, talk back and forth about it for a while.

“The inside gardens?”

“I don't think we have a garden inside the palace… Do we?”

“Does she mean the greenhouse?”

“Those are down by the barracks and wells though, I don't think she was ever allowed there.”

“She might have been with one of her uncles. A few of them lived there for a while.”

“I'm pretty sure all of our gardens are outside.”

“But His Majesty loved flowers, maybe the princess’s father had an interior flower garden quilt for him?”

“That does sound like something he would do.”

“Yeah, he was always doing grand romantic gestures. It was sweet.”

“I think we would have heard of it though, wouldn't we? We were his guards. We would know if it was a thing.”

“Maybe it was in the works before… ‘it’... happened? What if it was a surprise she was in?”

“Could be… but I still think we would have known about it. The prince was always making grand gestures for his husband but he was never good at being sneaky about it.”

“Good point.”

“So what inside gardens could she be talking about then?” Lionel interrupted them, “She specifically said ‘the inside one’ when I tried asking which garden she meant.”

“We could ask one of the handmaids.”

“Yeah, they would know. They spent a lot of time with her.”

“And where are they?”

“Can I go and find them?”

“I would prefer if you two stayed here and sent someone to find them.”

“We’ll do that then.”

Lionel ducked back inside the room while I heard one of the guards call over someone else to send them looking for Bethany again. I doubt she went far, she was only just in here after all.

“Just give us a moment princess! We’re working on getting the garden set up for your lunch!”

“I meant the interior one.” I tried to help him out, I knew now that he hadn't meant the exterior garden.

He deflated a little, sighing “You heard all that?”

I nodded.

“Well I'm glad it amused you a bit at least.” he smiled at me “It's good to see you smile, I don't think I've seen you do it before.”

Was I smiling? I suppose the exchange outside of the door was funny, so perhaps I was.

“So the interior gardens. Where are those?”

“Near my room.” My voice was starting to hurt again, hopefully, he would understand what I meant before I had to stop speaking again. Though I could always write down what I wanted to say. I looked at my hands, they were shaking if I held them off of my lap for too long, so perhaps that wouldn't work just yet.

“These?” He pointed out of the window, I shook my head.

“My bedroom.”

“Your bedroom… but not this bedroom?”

The braid Bethany had done bounced as I nodded a little.

“The royal gardens, the ones in the interior ring of the palace?”

I nodded again, He had gotten it.

“Ah. The inside ones.” he shook his head, smiling bigger than before. “It's too cold to eat outside in the gardens. You can eat by a window that has a view of them if you would like?”

Soon enough I was by the large floor-to-ceiling window of the family foyer that looked out to the garden. The foyer was at ground level and was framed by two massive Mongolian trees, blooming bright pink throughout the winter.

Lionel had brought over one of the lounge chairs and set it up next to a small end table in front of the window for my lunch.

“I didn't know there was such a nice garden in the interior palace. It looks very well maintained.

“Mother took care of it.”

“I see. It's very lovely. I didn't know some things could blossom in the cold.”

“He wanted there to always be color near our rooms, so he got a lot of things that would bloom in every season for us.”

Lionel let me rest my voice throughout the last of my meal. The sandwich was a simple one that my mother would often make for me, chicken and curried rice on thick pieces of dark bread with a simple soup on the side. The party was one of the ones that the chef would make nearly daily, the ones that my cousins and I would pull off elaborate plans to get before tea time when they were fresh out of the oven.

When I started to eat the pastry Lionel told me, “The chef said that if you wanted any more of those just let him know, he mentioned something about you not having to pull off any secret plans and sneaking about for them?”

I must have smiled again because Lionel beamed brightly at me. Out of the corner of my vision, I could see him pump his hand in victory. He reminded me a lot of my uncles, he and them were similar in many ways. The little victories they celebrated over my behavior, the smiles, the clumsy movements as they rushed to and fro to get things. My uncles had been knighted by my father or grandfather at some point, to give them fancy titles one of the younger ones had explained.

I wonder if all knights are like this, or if it's just the good ones.

Sitting in the family foyer by the garden reminded me of what I had wanted so much just a few days ago. My father's letter, his sweater, my mother's book of flowers, and the clothing from his culture.

I wanted to stay in their room tonight.

I could feel my eyes start to droop shut as I watched the snow start to fall into the garden. I was sipping my tea, having to use both my hands to hold up the little cup without it shaking. My throat felt better but I didn't want to talk much more, perhaps just one last thing before I fell asleep again.

“After you finish lunch princess it would be best if you got some rest. You hurt your head fairly badly last night and you need to recover more of your strength.” he was looking me over, frowning a little when he saw the bruise on my head again, “The doctor said you should be fine, but after this morning I think it's best if you take it easy for a bit longer. Speaking of last night, what exactly happened?”

Both nodded.

Upon hearing their names I remembered them again. Lily and Matilda, or Tilda I suppose, were some of Mother’s maids. They and Bethany and a few others were responsible for his daily preparations. They helped him bath, dress, do his hair, and do his makeup.

They were his handmaids. I had some as well, as did my father and brother and uncles and cousins. They were bright-eyed young girls, barely older than I was. They were not in charge of bathing me just yet. My older maids and nanny did that, but they would always help brush and style my hair and titter about which of my dresses I should wear.

They were always well-versed in the current fashions and what colors and styles I would look best in. I had three, and they could have been triplets for all I knew. All of them had big dark doe eyes with shiny black hair that fell to their knees or mid-back. They always wore their hair in buns on the back or sides of their heads and wore the same red eyeshadow on the corner of their eyelids and the same pink hue on their lips every day. Noa, Mio, and Sora. I wonder if they were still here?

“So for now, let's not bother the little princess too much. I’ll finish up with her here, the two of you go run along and find something to help out with.”

Lily and Tilda nodded and curtseyed. First to me and then to Bethany, before they scampered on out, tittering on about more hairstyles they thought I would look darling in.

“I'm sorry about them, little one.” Bethany directed her attention back to me, “They’re just excited. Everyone is.”

She continued brushing my hair out, gently carding it through the tangles and waves of my chestnut hair.

“About what?” My voice was still so foreign sounding to me. It was quiet and unsure, shaky even. I still half-believed it wasn't mine.

Bethany was smiling at me through the mirror as she put the brush down and started to braid my hair into one thick braid. “About you.”

We stared at each other for a moment, and she paused when she realized I was still confused.

“You haven't done much these past few months princess, well. No, that sounded wrong. Apologies, let me try again.”

She took a moment to think, muttering to herself as she started braiding my hair again.

“It's been nearly five months since… Sir Lionel arrived. You know that right?”

I nodded slowly. I knew she didn't mean just since Sir Lionel arrived, but I was thankful she avoided saying it all the same.

“And that's a long time, right?”

I nodded again. Mother always said that the winter passed by slowly during its nearly six-month reign over our lands. We were a mountain kingdom, far away from the sea and high up in the region, so winter was long and the year was often cold.

“Well during the first two months, you slept. For nearly the whole two months.”

Had it been that long? That whole time seemed like a blur, but I suppose by the time I came it was fully winter.

“Fall was just about halfway through when Lionel got here, and you slept through the rest of it and the start of winter. And then you were…''She pauses again, unsure of how to go on “You weren't well. You were very sick. I couldn't move or speak. You could barely sit up or eat or drink on your own. Sometimes it seemed like you were barely awake at all. You were like that for almost three months.”

She finished the braid and met my eyes through the mirror again. “Then just recently you started to move on your own. Sir Lionel was so excited that you were sitting up in bed by yourself and that you were eating and drinking again. He would tell us every day about how much you ate and where you took your lunch that day and how you were no longer crying in your sleep every night.” she stops again, taking a deep shuddering breath, had I still been looking at her through the mirror I might have seen the tears that she wiped quickly from her eyes. “And then just last night you left the bed all and then this morning you started talking.

Talking! I didn't believe it when Tilda told me, even when Lionel practically went on a joyful rampage about the palace to announce it to everyone. And then you spoke! I heard it, you asked for your clothes!”

I was playing with the sleeve’s hem, tucking my hand into the to-big sleeve and pulling some of the extra length into it, thumbing gently over the fabric.

“You’re finally getting better. And we’re all very happy about it, little princess.”

“I'm sorry for worrying everyone.”

I don't think it was what any of them had wanted to hear, but it was all I could think to say.

“We all understand, of course. We were all here when it happened. I… I saw that horrible room, I know you saw it. I wish I could have stopped you from seeing it.”

I couldn't say anything to that. I don't know if I wanted to have not seen it, I don't think I would have understood otherwise.

“And I… I know what his majesty tried to do, what he did. But-”

She was crying now, standing behind me and trying her best not to.

“He tried to do it because he couldn't… He didn't think he was strong enough to be alone. And He didn't want you to suffer either, so he tried to bring you both to the rest of them. And I know he regrets it, I know that if he had known that you would still be here then he would be here too. He wouldn't have left you alone willingly. He was scared, scared that you were going to suffer at the hands of that man-'' she spat the words out venomously, she meant my grandfather I think, “And he didn't want that for you. He wanted your family to be together in the land beyond here, and he wouldn't have left you here on purpose.”

I think I was crying again. I can't tell anymore I think, like my eyes have gone numb to the feeling of crying from all the tears that I’ve spilled these past five months. Somewhere in the back of my mind recently I had been angry. My mother had left me here, to be alone. My father and brothers and uncles had fought to stay with me, to stay alive, but he had come running to me and then took himself away just as quickly. I could have had him still. I wouldn't have been alone.

“Why is she crying?” Lionel must have entered the room while we were talking, “Is something wrong? Is she hurt again? What's happening?”

“I think she's just tired.” Bethany said instead of an explanation, “Did you bring her something to eat?”

“Yes. The chef suggested this tea for her throat and voice and made some of her favorite pastries to celebrate and also a sandwich.'' He held the tray he was holding a little higher. “Do the two of you need another moment?”

“No, I’m done with what you wanted me to do.” she squeezed my shoulder and leaned over me to grab a small tie for my hair, while doing so she whispered “I know it must feel like he left you, but he truly loved you and he wouldn't have left if he knew you would be alone here.”

I tried to speak again, but nothing came out. I wanted one of my dresses, the loose fern green one that was lined, the one father had gotten me last winter. It had the sweetest matching cloak with a soft and fuzzy wool lining on it and a hood with little mittens attached to each of the sides with a braided rope. It was fern green in a Gingham pattern with other paler greens and grays mixed in.

“Does your voice hurt?” Bethany was good at guessing things, she always knew what mother wanted before he even seemed to know he wanted it. She must have some kind of magic talent for it because she was right. My voice did hurt.

I nodded softly, and the maids around us cooed before Bethany quickly waved them off with her hand and they all started to move again.

“How about you hold one finger up for one of the dresses from Reobeth, and two fingers up for one of your dresses?” Her smile was kind. I'm starting to see why my mother liked her so much.

I didn't interact with her a lot, I didn't interact with a lot of the staff besides the few that were assigned especially to my brother, cousins, and I or the ones that were so busy with my uncles and parents that they hardly ever left their sides.

Bethany was almost one of those. Though my parents always tried to be without the staff when they were with us. They wanted to have some time alone with us whenever they could, they wanted my brother and I not to be watched constantly. Especially when we were with them.

I smiled back a bit, I think. It might have been more of a grimace because doing so made my head hurt more again. I held up two fingers and she smiled even brighter.

“One of yours then! Should I have someone pick out a nice comfy one for you today? Or do you want a special one?”

I wanted my green one. It was comfy and warm and I wanted to wear one of my dresses again. I had been sitting in borrowed nightclothes for months now. Items from the guest closets and spares from the laundry. I wanted to wear something that I had loved to wear. But my voice hurt a lot and I didn't want to explain exactly which one I wanted. Maybe she would understand with just a few words?

“Father.. Green.” I tried to gesture with a little cloak with my hands as I spoke.

Bethany’s head tilted to the side and she seemed to ponder a bit before cracking another smile and nodding. “I think I understand! I’ll go get it myself for you, ok?”

I nodded again and she spoke to some of the others before whisking her way out of the room. Two of the maids helped me out of bed and into the bath.

The large porcelain tub was full of water and the room was thick with steam. It smelled like woods, sage, and lavender, my father’s and mother’s usual perfume scents, and the ones my brother and I had adopted for our use as well.

I was helped out of the damp nightgown and gently slipped into the bath to soak for a little bit. One of the girls went out, probably to help the others clean up the mess I had left and to make up the bed again. They would probably need to strip and clean the sheets off of it.

I needed to remember to apologize to them for the mess I had made.

I spent a while in the warm water of the tub. One of the maids gently scrubbed the foamy soap through my hair while another carefully washed my skin with a soft cloth and fragrant serums.

The bath water had started to turn cold by the time I was gently guided out of the large porcelain tub.

Bethany had slipped into the room at some point, holding a small pile of folded green and brown clothes.

“I brought the clothes you asked for little princess!” She smiled brightly, holding up one of my older dresses, a simple brown one that was long-sleeved and floor length and lined on the inside with a thick fuzzy layer. Alongside that, she had brought one of my father’s favorite sweaters, the pale green one he would wear when he took my brother and me out of our beds to look at the stars on chilly nights.

Cold nights were the clearest he had always told us. He would bundle us up and bring us out to one of the tall towers with a flat roof or out into the gardens. One time he had even taken us into the carriage to go to a small mountaintop not too far away to look at the sky.

It was a full moon in mid-winter, the sky was the clearest I had ever seen it. Mother had come with us, insisting on wrapping both of us up into thick woolen blankets even with our coats and cloaks on.

Father had been wearing this sweater then, underneath his thick winter cloak of dark gray wool. He had tucked me into the long folds of it while he held to look at the stars, pointing out the ones he knew were our favorites. I had fallen asleep with my head on his shoulder on the way back to the carriage, nuzzling into the soft sweater as he walked us back with my mother and brother.

I didn't say anything as Bethany helped me get dressed. She and the maids had dried me off, one of them was still patting my hair dry while Bethany slipped the dress over my head while yet another girl was putting my leggings and long socks on.

After the sweater was put over me the girls helped me out into the guest room. It was clean and smelled like fresh linens. The bed was newly made and the rug had been changed out.

They sat me down on the plush vanity stool while Bethany started to brush my hair. One of the maids, a girl with blonde hair and bright emerald eyes, was smiling and whispering happily to the brunette this morning. One of them was applying creams to my hands and face while the other was tying the shoes that she had slipped onto my feet.

“Do you want your hair in any particular way today princess?” Bethany’s voice snapped me out of the daze I had fallen back into.

When I said nothing and made no move to reply the other two girls pipped up eagerly.

“Oh! Maybe she can do birds in your hair! They’re all the rage right now!” The brunette clapped excitedly from her place by my side, cheerfully speaking but keeping her voice quiet still.

“Oh! Perhaps we can do curls! Reobeth fashion is always into curls!”

“Maybe even little buns!”

“Yes! Little braids made into buns with the rest of her hair down in curls!”

The two were tittering at each other, bouncing ideas back and forth between them while Bethany and I watched.

Well, I was watching them. Bethany was watching me.

“Lilly, Tilda.”

Both girls spun around, answering her quickly.

“I understand we all are very excited about the Princess making great strides in her recovery, but we can't go back to how things were just yet. Let's give her some space and try not to overwhelm her with too many options.”