That Rosemary was going to make a move soon seemed obvious from the reports from Stride. It’d taken her a few days of teasing the bridge guards and playing games with Platinum before she vanished. It was cleverly done, as well, with Rosemary making a remark that she needed to readjust her sleep schedule soon or ponies would get suspicious.

Platinum hadn’t thought anything of it.

The very next night, she had been a ghost, using a finer veil than Stride had seen her use before, and actually using distractions properly. Not scented ones. He’d have blown the whistle on her if she’d even used a hint of perfume on the guard.

Rather, she’d started using cats and mice. It helped that it was the right season for both to be readying for winter, the latter trying to stuff their little bodies with stores for the winter, and the former trying to feast on fat little dumplings.

That not even Stride could tell whether they were mist-faeries or not spoke to Rosemary’s gift with illusions. That he’d learned she was a painter as well made more sense. A little tidbit from Platinum’s glowing reports about the mare. She’d even brought a small postcard painting of herself to give to Platinum.

If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought Rosemary was courting the mare.

What if she is?

Collar sighed and stared at the small bundle of reports that were the last few days of Rosewatching. Rosemary’s charade was only a small part of that, but it was also the most active part of it.

They had countermeasures in place, knew who her target was, and had a pony on the watch for her every night.

It helped that she was a terrible infiltrator, but…

That was the thought that made him both relieved and terrified that she was going to buck the trend, that her mission was all a guile-ploy to pull his ponies off-guard and off-center and strike somewhere else. It didn’t matter that it would only work once. What mattered was that it would work.

He sighed and stood, stretching and trying to recall what Cloudy’s schedule was for that day. She was supposed to be visiting Glory later to keep her company. It was less about atonement now, and more… He would hesitate to call it friendship, but Glory wasn’t like the other Rosethorns.

Whether that was because she was playing a long game or showing her genuine self, he didn’t know. It could be somewhere in between and probably was.

But she was proving to be a font of information.

Maybe she would drop a little insight about her cousin.

Glory was reading when they came up the stairs, a book floating in front of her. The title was one he’d grown up studying. Liefdesprincipes Tussen Twee. A curious choice.

She barely looked up to acknowledge their presence as he opened the door and slipped in, letting the silence fall again before she spoke. “You Prims follow a strange and twisted logic to bring yourselves to believe that romantic love can only be between two ponies.” After a moment, her eyes moving across the page, she turned it, placed a bookmark between the pages and set it down.

“I could say the same of the Roses,” Collar said, settling in with Cloudy beside him, her wing settling over his back as she did more and more since his bout with Roseate. “The Tussen Twee has led our customs for four hundred years.”

“As has the Principes van Vrije Liefde done for Merrie,” Glory said with a snort. “Please, Lord Collar. I’ve debated far more in depth with Rosewater over such matters. On both sides.”

“The only surprising part of that is that it is Rosewater,” he said.

“Oh, not openly. Often, at least.” Glory chuckled and patted a hoof on the wooden cover. “How did you think I got my information to her? By shouting it from the rooftops?”

“Of course not. I thought you would have met with her.” He raised an eyebrow. “You can turn yourself invisible, after all.”

“Ah, yes, and sometimes I did. Most times, it was by letter with code words. Occasionally, by dead drop.” Rose Glory shrugged. “We had a system, she and I, of talking from when we were fillies growing up. Roseate, after it became clear she couldn’t fully corrupt Rosewater thanks to her sister’s influences, focused almost solely on Rosary. I was a disappointment, and she largely ignored me.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” It was more than he’d expected to get from her from casual conversation.

“I’ve had a few days to think about my mother using me to falsely bait a trap,” Glory said, showing her teeth. “I’ve decided I’d rather not return home. But I’m also not ready to defect, as I have my lovers in Merrie to consider. Besides.” The grin grew wider. “You might corrupt me with the Tussen Twee like you did my poor, distant cousin.”

Cloudy growled. “I’ve not lost my respect for the Vrije Liefde, Glory. But I also respect the Tussen Twee, and I’ve come to adopt some of their ideas.”

“I do suppose that Primline did have some good ideas that Rosethorn abandoned in pursuit of the ultimate realization of a free love society. Only the purest of adherents will argue seriously for things like a marriage-free society, for example.” Glory said. “But you came here not to debate philosophical points. What purpose brought you here?”

“Rosemary. She’s getting ready to strike,” Collar said, glancing at Cloudy. He’d told her little, save that Rosemary was safe from arrest unless she broke any laws. He’d kept her strictly off Rosemary watch after her little incident with Rosewater.

“And you’re expecting me to land her in your tender hooves?” Glory held an arched brow for a beat, smiled, and shook her head. “Of course you aren’t. You respect my relationship with her too much to expect such, yes?”

That closed off that avenue neatly. He sighed. “She’s going to get caught, Glory. No matter how good she is, she’s going to get caught.”

“Her mentor has never been caught.”

“Her mentor is one of the most terrifying mares I’ve ever met.”

“She is only terrifying to those that endanger that which is most precious to her: family.” Glory slipped from the couch and tapped her chest. “She did what she could to ensure I would be safe. Having me captured? I’m safer here than I would be in Merrie.” She jabbed a hoof at Cloudy. “She cares more for Rosemary than her own life. She has, in fact, given it up for her sake.”

Collar closed his eyes, remembering the bleak look, the barely contained grief. All for Rosemary. Not even for him. For her.

“She’s why Rosewater is still sane.”

“You catch on quick, my lord.” Glory stepped up in front of him, her nose inches from his, her eyes fixed, jaw firm. “And you’re going to take that away from her.”

“She’s going to break our laws,” he said, gently rather than forcefully, and pushed her back. “I can’t allow that, Glory.”

“Then scare her off!” She tramped to the bedroom portion of the cell, paused, and came halfway back. “Stars, she can’t. She won’t be able to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think that mare, who prances across the bridge at night in full view, flirts with your guards—and yes, I have heard the rumors even here—would want to subvert another pony’s will?” Glory’s eyes sparkled briefly before she closed them, tears on her cheeks. “You don’t know her, Lord Collar.”

“In fact… I have a reliable inside source.”

“Who knew her for three years? Four? I’ve known her since she was six, my lord.” Glory’s tail snapped as she turned away again, hesitated, and composed herself with an obvious effort of will. “I apologize, Cloudy. I know you love her dearly. That was crass of me to say.”

“I do love her.” Cloudy took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and bowed her head. “And I’m thankful you’ve shared as much as you have about her early years, Glory. We…” She glanced at Collar and flicked an ear at him. “Need your help.”

“I won’t help you capture her.”

“I know. I won’t be the one to capture her, either.” Cloudy glanced at Collar. “I wish she didn’t have to be, but if she breaks the law, and—”

Glory rolled her eyes. “She’ll have to. She’s got no choice, or she’d be at the bridge hamming it up with some of your guards, and perhaps bringing them snacks.”

Cloudy smiled. “She always wanted to believe the war was already over.”

Collar sat, feeling his heart heavy over what duty compelled him to do. Rosemary didn’t want to be a part of the war. That much was clear, and it made him want to meet her even more. Some part of him hoped he might see a shade of the mare that had had a hoof in raising her and not the scheming, tragic figure sacrificing herself and her pride for a single pony.

“Maybe this will shock her out of her complacence,” he murmured after a long moment. “I know you won’t help us take her, Glory. Do you have any advice on how to make the arrest easier on her?”

“Be gentle. But firm. You’re not her friend, Collar. But you can be.” Glory flicked her ears. “But give some thought to what you’ll say to her. She’ll be panicked, freaking out.”

“Ah. Yes.” Collar shook his head slowly, then leaped back as Glory rushed him, her teeth barely grazing his nose before she sat back down, leaving a ruffle-winged Cloudy staring at her in an equal amount of shock.

“That’s how long you’ll have to think, Lord Collar, before she does something rash.” Glory slunk back to her divan and slumped onto it. “Be kind, my lord, but be prepared to restrain her.”

“Point well taken,” Collar said flatly. “I’ll give it some thought.” He eyed the mare for a moment, thinking about the logical paths a panicked Rosemary would take, considered Glory.

“In fact,” Glory said, watching him right back, “I expect she will be scared when she finds she’s been arrested. I would be willing to be there, if you would permit it my lord, to calm her nerves.”

Almost, he rejected it, then hesitated and raised his brows. “What would you ask in return?”

She snorted and smiled. “All I ask is that you allow me to visit my Poppy outside of this cell. In the palace, if you please. It should be easy to keep secret that I’m there, and it wouldn’t do to let mother know I left my little cage. I give you my word I won’t attempt to escape. I wasn’t lying that I am safer here than in Merrie.”

“Mother is going to strangle me,” Collar said with a resigned sigh. “Fine.” He lowered his head and sat. “I owe Rosewater at least the comfort of knowing her cousin is safe and comfortable here.”

“You must still capture her first, my lord.” Glory smiled sweetly. “She was trained by Rosewater.”

Slipping across the bridge had become something of a routine. Rosemary had learned how to use the smell of fresh fish to lure actual cats to the bridge, purring after a treat that would linger long after she stopped focusing on the smell. Rosewater had told her to vary the approach.

“Never use the same method twice too soon together.”

Owls were also useful, as were furious splashings in the water. Most useful were the clouds and an overcast night.

That night, Rosemary knew would be the night. She didn’t want to be detected at all. Not even by the friends who had come to know her over the past two nights. Platinum had smelled especially nice last night, and had even consented to a gentle peck on the cheek before she parted and passed over the bridge.

The mare wanted more, but was too shy to ask. For now. Like her other mystery Dammeguard mare, Platinum only needed the right encouragements and she would ask. Maybe tomorrow night, if she slipped away from her deed unseen and unnoticed.

She called up a mist-mouse, scented with the fur of a mouse, and lured forth a pair of cats she’d been enticing with the smell of fish all the way from the docks. They weren’t gentle cats, but rough and tough dock and ship cats, used to fighting for their food, already yowling at each other as the mist-mouse scampered ahead and they leapt to the chase.

She followed quickly, knowing the distraction of two cats going after the bit of fish she’d tucked into the center of the mist-mouse wouldn’t last long once they took in the catnip infused mist.

She only hoped the hopped up kitties wouldn’t get too rambunctious.

On cue, the yowling and yelling rose to a fever pitch as the cats caught the mouse, promptly tossed it away, and started dancing in a fevered, catnip fueled frenzy around the legs of two of her friends, Prim Hedge and Prim Star.

The two Dammeguard worked to keep the very real claws away from their legs as the cats sought the high ground in their fight.

Neither set of eyes even came close to her as she slipped past the post and into the night. She went far enough to the west to set off another distraction, calling down a mist owl to perch on the roof of the guardpost and hoot loudly for a few minutes at odd intervals. Both ponies there glanced at it, shrugged, and went back to watching the Merrie side of the bridge. It wasn’t until Rosemary made the bushes rustle and the owl take off that she got them to wander away from their posts to check out the noise.

A mist cat sprang free, yowling, and dashed away from them.

“Mating season,” one of the guards said with a chuckle after they managed to disentangle themselves from the two cats and calm them down enough to pet. “Gonna be a lot of kittens come this winter.”

And then it was on to her target, slipping through now-familiar alleys, shifting and swaying with the clouds above to stay in tune with the movement of the actual shadows on the ground without having to change her veiling’s pattern much.

Frequent checks above her had become a part of her routine, but no wings crossed the moon and no faces or eyes looked down at her.

There was still a feeling of being watched. Rosewater had said it would be an instinct she gained over time, but no matter when she felt it, she couldn’t seem to find anypony watching her, and she couldn’t decide whether or not it was her nerves.

A scrape caught her attention from above, just a bare shiver of sound. She would have ignored it any other night as an owl or other night bird landing.

She froze in place under a broad-leafed magnolia tree, waiting, listening to the sounds of the night, her heart thumping as she waited for a hoot or a call of some bird, or the call of a pony angrily demanding why she was trying to hide.

After a moment, the scrape repeated, and the faintest sound of wings told her it was most likely a night bird.

She sat still and frozen for long minutes more, waiting still. All the while, her ears ticked and twisted to follow every minute sound of the wind rustling the trees or catching against some upper level obstruction and making it hum or rattle as the wind rose and fell above, barely reaching down to the streets below.

More night birds she could see made similar sounds, settling her nerves minutely. Night-hunters didn’t hoot when they were hunting. It hardly made sense to alert prey to the presence of a predator.

At last, she shifted, stepping to the side rather than forward, and looked up to where the sound had come from, having to peer through the leaves. There was nopony staring at her, not even a bird, an owl, or a mouse. Just the dark of the sky speckled with stars and the silver glow of the moon reflecting off dark stone. She hadn’t used her tincture this time since she was expecting to enter the old stallion’s home.

She shivered and reconsidered, not for the first time, the wisdom of doing what she was about to do. She’d never enticed a pony to do what they would not otherwise want. She had only enticed openly, with scent and sight, as an invitation to take what she offered with a promise of more.

Deceiving with her scents would be new, unfamiliar and uncomfortable territory. Before, she had only used her scents to tell what she wanted in more ways than she could with voice and body. It was a second language to her, and not one that lent itself to lying.

It was the fatal flaw to all of Roseate’s and her cousin’s lusts and lures.

They were lies.

The power of scent magic lay in the truth it could offer. Rosewater had taught her that. Nothing Rosewater made had a hint of falsity to it, and she had taught Rosemary that nothing of scent should be false. Even disguises, she’d said, should lie through truth. A mist-mouse could be made to look and act like a real mouse with enough observation and care, but if she tried to make it smell like a dog, it would quickly be found out.

Which was why she was going to offer the smells of foods she had actually baked and captured the essences of, of wines she had distilled to a perfection of smell to capture the purest essence of what wine was to both palette and nostril.

And dreams of the past distilled into white mist.

Fail, and you will be exiled.

Rosemary closed her eyes, gathered what little scraps of courage she had left, and stepped briefly from shadow to the brighter shade between two streetlights and made her way to the alleyway she had made her outpost for the past week of observation and contemplation.

Prim Cottage had told his friends last night that he would be alone, and intended to spend the night catching up on his reading. A new book, he’d said.

It will still be there tomorrow, night, Cottage, she thought as she settled in, shifting her dappled shadow veil to make her blend even more into the stone at her side and underneath her. She tried, for a moment, to stretch the shadows to form a bubble around her, as Rosewater could do, but the effort of bending the mists that much gave her a headache, and Rose Glory hadn’t been able to explain how she did it so well.

No matter. She was familiar enough with the ground that she could become effectively invisible. Until she had to get up to go talk to the old stallion once he came out, looking for the pony he wanted to invite in and share such a fine meal with. He would have the ingredients for her to actually cook it and make her feel better about the deception part of her plan, but the wine, she would have to give up some other time.

Stop stalling.

He was right there in his sitting room where he always entertained his friends, a book propped up on one flank while he twitched his ear.

She swallowed and pulled free the two vials, veiling them as she did so. She unstoppered the first and drew out a bit of the orange liquid. It hovered in front of her, smelling of a delicious roast carrot meal still despite being on its last day of purity. The wine tried to fizz out again, and she barely managed to catch it before it rose into the air. She let all but a little trace of it dissipate into the air. She didn’t want to loosen his thoughts yet, only enough to let in the suggestion of friendship she bound into the rest with a trickle more power, focusing on how much she wanted to get to know him.

The orange atomized and tried to sink immediately as the magic flowed into it, but the spot of red fizzing at its center kept the fog of vapor aloft as it gradually lost its color, mixing with the ambient air just enough to make it less overpowering and more inviting.

She sent a tendril towards the window and the crack she knew would be there, the same crack she’d drawn the scents of spices the second night of observation.

The tendril flowed against the window’s edge, and stopped.

She frowned, tipping her head to the side and tried a different crack. Also sealed.

They had been the avenue through which she’d exfiltrated the sounds from inside with extra clarity.

A chill wind shivered down the alleyway, tugging her veiled cloak before it subsided. The tendril evaporated in the wind, and she sighed. He must have sealed against winter with it coming on.

Another thing she’d not accounted for. Old ponies would be more careful about heat loss, especially in their most favorite rooms to sit and read. Rosewater was going to chide her for that.

Such a simple detail.

More precious wine essence fizzed into the air along with more carrot. She considered the house while she combined the two again, finding ease in it at the second attempt. She wanted to get to know this old stallion for real. He could tell her a lot about the Lord Collar that Rosewater had fought both for and against.

She shifted her attention to the chimney billowing a wispy white cloud of smoke that drifted on a fitful wind, rising almost vertically up to a ceiling where it faded into the night sky and drifted away. The heat of the fireplace might destroy the scents, unless she folded them into a solid bubble of outside air and let them in, a daunting task. Her skills were being tested already pushing scents so far from her.

But the flue… She didn’t know how the flue looked or how it was constructed.

She resisted the urge to growl and stared at the door. It wouldn’t be sealed nearly as well as a window that never opened, but it would be refreshed more often because of it. She could break the wax, but that would also alert him before she could get the scent back inside.

For a moment, she considered trying to emulate heat to melt the wax, which would be quieter, but her goal tonight wasn’t to leave evidence of her being there. She wanted only to start a conversation with a pony lulled into believing she was a friend before sending him to a gentle sleep where she was only a dream by morning’s dawning.

Or give it up for tonight and plan again for tomorrow. Perhaps a tubule she could insert past the wax to send the scents through. She knew where the cracks were. As long as she made sure it was flexible and hard enough to penetrate the wax and go around the barrier, it would work.

An echoing pop sounded behind her in the instant before a silver dome snapped into existence around her, glowing with cold gray light. The surface shimmered twice more before the shock wore off and realization snapped.

Caught.

She leaped to her hooves and dashed at the edge, turning at the last moment to throw her weight against the dome before it could fully form.

It stopped her shoulder cold, flexing only slightly. She’d waited too long. She lashed out a hind hoof with all her might, but the silver curvature deflected her kick and sent her sprawling.

She plied her horn against it from where she lay, focusing a surge of magic against the point. The shield rippled where her horn touched as she pushed magic against it, and flowed as it absorbed the blow without breaking.

She focused her magic for a teleport, but as soon as she gathered the power, the spell wavered and fell apart, distorted by the dome.

Nonono!

Caught. Caught. Caught. It rolled through her with every heartbeat, faster and faster. Her mother’s face, wracked with anguish tugged at her. Come back to me.

A hoof stepped through, followed by a pony she’d only seen at a distance, recognizable for his stature, his surety, and his bronze coat and golden mane.

Her coat tried to stand on end. All thoughts of actual escape or trying to bluff her way out shattered as she caught the stern look he leveled at her.

She could try to—

Silver manacles folded around her legs, just above the ankle, as if she’d telegraphed her plan to rush him to surprise him and startle him enough to drop the spells.

She swallowed and met his gaze, then looked away from the disappointment she saw there. Of course he’d been watching her. No doubt Cloudy had been watching her and keeping tabs on her. The thought made her heart ache. She wouldn’t even get to see Cloudy if she got captured. She’d be jailed and left alone aside from her jailor and possibly Collar for interrogation.

If there was a way out, she couldn’t see it.

“Rosemary,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “Please give yourself up. I truly don’t want to do this, but you’ve broken our laws. Blatantly.”

The two vials of perfume she’d managed to hold onto trembled in her magic, the corks firmly stoppered. A quick glance at them, then back at him, and she got an idea.

The third. “M-my lord,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she lowered the two vials and tried to draw out the third covertly with another spell. “I-I had no choice.” She tried to work free one of the corks, obviously doing so. “I-I didn’t want to meet you this way.”

“Rosemary, don’t try it,” Collar growled, stepping closer and taking over her hold on the two vials without any apparent effort on his part. He tucked them into his saddlebag. Evidence of her crimes.

“T-try what?” Her teeth chattered as she eased the cork on the Ivory Dreams vial. It made a pop as she pulled it free and she tried to draw a few droplets free.

His eyes narrowed and never left hers as he started what sounded like a rehearsed speech, “You’re under arrest for attempted subversion of will by use of scent magic. Anything you say or do will be added to the—”

She was under arrest, and she couldn’t beat him. There was no way she could possibly beat him. She swallowed hard and pulled out the third vial, a distraction for him while she held the three droplets in suspension. “L-let me go. I-I don’t…” She swallowed again as he took the vial from her without any effort yet again.

But while his attention was on the last of her defenses, she atomized the three droplets and pushed magic into the cloud, making it glow in the shield and drew his sharp attention again.

“Rosemary,” Collar warned as she brought the glowing mist between them like a shield. A flimsy shield that he could brush away with a thought. “Don’t try it. You can’t win like this. Don’t make things harder for yourself.”

She gave him a small smile, shaking as she darted a look from him to the cloud of pearly white mist. If she did it, she would have no control over what happened to her. Not even to speak. It would be worse than surrender.

But then she wouldn’t need to look at the disappointment in Captain Pink’s eyes. She wouldn’t need to see Platinum’s look of betrayal after learning what she’d done.

A sob choked her as she pulled it closer to her. She didn’t want to face that. She wasn’t strong enough to watch friends lose their trust in her.

“Rosemary, what are you doing?” A note of panic entered his voice and a swipe of a spell cut away half of the cloud as she drew it closer and leaned forward to take in the gentle scent of clean linen and fragrant hyacinth soap.

Immediately, her eyes felt heavy even just from the first scent of so little. Sweet dreams would be better than being marched through Damme as a criminal. She was too cowardly to face that, to face Platinum’s accusatory glower, Pink’s disappointed shake of her head. The images started following her down into darkness.

“Sorry,” she whispered as the world started to fade away. “I’m sorry.” Mother, stay safe.

Everything else was lost as the world tilted crazily and the darkness caught her in a silver glow.

The last thing she saw before sweeter dreams took over her was Collar’s fearful, shocked expression as he loomed over her, his lips moving as he asked, “What did you do?”

I gave up.

Rosewater sat in her perfumery, staring at the vial she’d been meaning to save until Rosemary’s twenty-first birthday. It swirled on its own, seemingly alive in the bottle as swirls of pink and gold danced with the promise of coming alive with little more than a touch of magic.

She’d been working for the last year to distill the other side of her feelings into this. Love, and not the heart-pounding lust of a promise of mating. A mother’s love for her daughter. Slower, gentler, sometimes fierce, often buoyant and soaring with pride.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” she asked the empty room, her voice hoarse from sobbing. The answer, of course, was the despair. The certainty that she wouldn’t see Rosemary again. It was the stars-cursed spell she’d used against Roesate.

She’d never before pulled up so much raw emotional magic in one pool before. Even the perfume she’d made for her fight against Roseate had been dribbled out over days and distilled, refined into the purest raw fear she could make.

This had leaked out like a broken bucket.

Beside the vial was a small stack of letters, one of them exuding the faint fragrance of the perfume. It would hardly do, in a normal covert message, to provide the key with the invisible ink. In this case…

She started to fold the letter into its envelope, her heart breaking over what it would mean, but helpless to keep herself from the certainty that she was going to lose Rosemary.

Preparing for it, at least, gave her some control over the situation. Otherwise, she’d be at the estate, gnawing her hooves to nubs and worrying about what she couldn’t change. This way…

“I’m trying, Carnation,” Rosewater whispered, her eyes tearing up again as her beloved Carnation’s last words to her replayed in her mind.

‘Keep her safe, love. Keep yourself safe.’

Temptation rose again to unstopper the bottle of Mother’s Kiss and remember again the only mother that had meant anything to her. The mare who’d later become more…

She wanted to remember Carnation’s voice anew, to sink into the past and forget the fears of now.

For a moment, she studied the bottle, the silver filigree inlaid into the glass marked with Rosewater’s and Carnation’s cutie marks on either side of the bottle. On the cap, a glass stopper held in place with a simple latch, Rosemary’s cutie mark decorated the stem.

This was for Rosemary. She had some left from the original batch, sealed in her own vial of enchanted silver and glass, keeping the spells that swirled through the pink and gold alive and strong, waiting for a further infusion of the right spell to bring it fully alive with memories so real it was like living them again.

That vial was waiting for her at home.

She slipped the gift for Rosemary and the three letters into her saddlebags.

She hoped she didn’t need them.

Fear said she would.

Author's Notes:

The original version of this chapter had a lot more of the preparations Collar had made in advance of Rosemary making her move, but I decided to cut that out since it didn't really tell more than I could say otherwise in a more concise scene or through context clues.

The interview with Glory was also different, occurring from outside the cage and its silencing wards, now moved inside so they can speak more freely.

I've also gotten ahead on my editing! A large part of the change debt has now been paid, and I can focus more on cleaning up dialogue and story rather than making new from almost whole cloth.

Also, the next two chapters came in at over 8,000 words apiece, so I'm cutting them in half. Part 1 and Part 2, but fear not! The chapters will be posted as they were whole, so double chapters for the next two weeks, but shorter. I know long chapters can be sometimes harder to get through in one quick sitting, so I'm trying this out to see if it works.

Let me know if it does, and thank you for reading. (Posted one day early)