The walk back through Damme was far less eventful with Captain Pink at her side than it had been with Firelight Spark, but the tension seemed higher than it had been before. Guards stood ready on corners or froze in place when she turned a corner with the captain at her side on the way back to the Primrose.

At first, she was content to let the captain remain stoic and silent, but that wore on her after a few minutes of having her wave down the hopeful looks ponies gave her, and the disappointed scowls they left in their wake.

“I realize I have a less than stellar reputation in Damme,” Rosewater said, causing Captain Pink to snort, “but it is my hope that with time and effort, I will turn that around.”

The captain didn’t dignify that with a reply immediately, except to snort again.

After the lunch hour, the streets were busier with the common pony making their way about the city. The looks the common pony gave her, tinged with fear and loathing, struck hard to her heart still vulnerable from tearing away its armor. She looked away from them all, her ears ticking back farther at each new blow, each new look.

“You’re different,” Pink said after a while. “You still look exhausted, but you don’t look as frightened.”

“I’m not. I feel better about the future.” Rosewater took a deep breath and shook her head slowly. “I have to thank…” She glanced at the captain to see if there was any knowledge of why Rosewater was there, why she’d chosen then to make a move.

“I’m aware of this morning’s events,” Pink said quietly, her ears flicking to indicate she knew they might be listened to. “I take it the intervention shook you?”

“It did,” Rosewater said. “She was—” she almost said it, almost called her my daughter’s lover. That little tidbit would reach Roseate’s ears faster than if she’d sent a letter if she spoke it aloud. The reminder from Lace that she couldn’t keep it secret for long dogged at her as well. “She’s… I can see why Rosemary likes her so much.”

Something in her tone must have given away some of the undercurrent “Rosemary,” Pink said with a grunt, bobbing her head. “So she can touch even that cold heart of yours.”

Rosewater gritted her teeth, but kept back the angry retort.

“Huh.” Pink stopped at an intersection as a large train of carts passed ahead of them. “So, I know you can’t talk about what went on during the negotiations, but something happened to you.”

“You wouldn’t trust anything I told you,” Rosewater said, lifting her head to look over the carts to the other side. “Should I bother trying?”

“You could start by telling me about you and Rosemary. A cousin doesn’t—”

“Guardian,” Rosewater broke in calmly. “I’m her guardian, captain, and I’ve raised her alone since she was fourteen.”

“Fair enough, but I do have a few cousins of my own, a fair few.” Pink eyed her sidelong for several blocks, eyes twitching between her and the road ahead. For her part, Rosewater was content to let her and take in the rest of the city in daylight as she’d rarely been able to do.

“Her mother asked me to look after her.” Rosewater smiled a thin, bitter smile at the memory of Carnation giving her the envelope, telling her what was inside, and what she expected might happen, what Rosewater had steadfastly refused to believe would happen. “I’m all she has left of the sane family after Roseate exiled Carnation.”

Pink blinked rapidly for a few paces, then turned an eye on her. “I knew her, briefly, at a Gala, when she set Rosemary on me and went to dance with Dapper. When she was six or so.”

A memory trickled back, of Rosewater at sixteen attending the same Gala, a requirement, and… and struggling with her notion of motherhood, not yet confessed to Carnation about her feelings, but on the cusp, and resenting being at the gala because she had to be near her birth mother for part of it.

She remembered, too, a glimpse of Rosemary on another pony’s back and the feeling of anxiety came back briefly, then faded. That night… stars. She’d still been trying to find her place in an adult world, and Roseate had coerced her into staying close the entire night.

What else did you keep from us, Carnation?

Firelight Spark was waiting for her when Captain Pink escorted her to the Primrose Bridge and snapped a salute at the knight commander.

“Returned unharmed and unmolested, sir.”

“Thank you, captain. She and I have some discussions to undertake… and a missive from the Rose palace.” Firelight returned the salute in the Canterlotian style and turned back to Rosewater as Captain Pink marshalled the small group of guards that had followed them at a distance, either out of duty or apprehension.

It was tiring to see the distrust and hate in their eyes as they turned away. Most likely, they’d not heard how things had gone down last night other than that she had been there. Added atop the bone-weary ache settling into her entire being, it was enough to make her want to lay down and just have a cry.

“From my mother?” Rosewater asked instead, resisting the urge to sit or rub at her temples with either spell or hoof.

“Aye. I’ve not opened it yet, as it was addressed to both of us.” Firelight pushed open the door to the office and waved her inside. “After you, my lady.”

Inside, a few ponies looked up from desks where they sat reviewing ledgers and documents, a scattering of Dammers here and there having conversations that came to a halt at the sight of Rosewater, then resumed when they saw who she was with. While the office wasn’t a business center, it was where ponies registered their trades and paid their treaty fees for trading with other cities outside of the Merrie-Damme borders.

Thus, most of the ponies there were traders or representatives of traders, and not as perturbed by her as the citizenry were.

Some of them, she might have even contracted to ship her perfumes to Canterlot and elsewhere.

Firelight’s office was to the back, and the familiar warding settings in the corners of the room were already glowing with the gold of an active spell, blocking out the sound of conversation behind her as soon as she crossed the threshold.

“Privacy here?” Rosewater asked, testing the spell with her own and receiving a gentle feedback pushing her probing back.

“One of the boons granted us by Celestia. The gems are permanently enchanted to keep this room silent when a pony with the emblem of a knight is in residence.” Firelight settled in behind his desk and proffered a letter to her, gilt edges highlighting the crimson envelope. “It arrived just after you crossed the bridge, I’m told, delivered by your youngest sister.”

“I see.” It was a short letter, written in Roseate’s precise, sharp hoof.

Formal Notice from the Rose Palace

Given your actions last night, both in aid of and against my attempts to bring this war to a conclusion and bring the treaty to its final resolution, I am left with no choice but to inform you that any further interference with the efforts towards this aim will result in exile, immediate and unconditionally.

As I have delivered this via the Treaty Office, this is also formal notice under terms of treaty that I will brook no further interference from my daughter and will consider any action she takes that is contradictory to my will to be an illegal and treasonous act.

Roseate Rosethorn

Baroness of Merrie

“I wonder,” Rosewater said as she passed the letter to Firelight to read, “whether she wrote this before I crossed or after, and whether we should expect another courier shortly informing me that I am to be exiled immediately.”

Firelight looked up at her briefly, then set the letter down on the desk and flattened it. “There are two misapprehensions she’s operating under. First, that she has unilateral right to exile anypony she wishes. She has some, which is how she exiled her sister and all we could do was watch. You, however, are protected to some extent.”

“I know. It’s why I was in the library of the Merrie office day after day for a week, making sure I knew which lines I could and couldn’t cross.” Rosewater shook her head and stood up. “I need to return home and rest. I’m exhausted.”

“If I could borrow you for at most a half hour,” Firelight said as he held aloft the emblem of his office, “I want to bring you with me to discuss certain realities with Roseate. It would be in all of our best interests if she were made aware, if she is not already, of the pitfalls she is walking into.”

“If it will mean I get a little peace, at least while I recover, then by all means.” She pushed open the door and gestured for Firelight to lead the way. “It would look best if you lead me, rather than the other way around, so it doesn’t look like I instigated.”

“Tattled, you mean,” Firelight said with a snort, but followed after her.

It was still hard to approach the Rose Palace and all it meant, but with a Royal Guard in front of her to remind her why she was there even through the tired ache between her eyes, it was easier to push the old foalhood memories back.

Even the good memories were hard to bear when she was this tired.

She passed through the meticulously kept gardens and past the ivy rose covered plinths supporting nothing more than an image of the old Equestria, before the fall, and its archaic and grandiose architecture.

The columns were supposedly older than the city itself, but had been repaired and rebuilt at least once in the past five hundred years.

“It reminds me of Canterlot sometimes,” Firelight said, catching Rosewater staring up at the crown of one, atop which stood a pegasus in Merrieguard pink and crimson, watching their entrance with a detached expression. “The columns especially. Celestia is fond of things that remind her of the world left behind, and the world our ancestors tried to recreate.”

“I’d heard something of the sort,” Rosewater said, drawing her attention back to the path. Nopony would dare accost her with Firelight leading her. She needn’t worry about confrontation from the non-nobility that haunted the grounds. “I hope one day to see Canterlot for myself.”

“‘Twould be familiar to you, I think, at least temperature-wise,” Firelight said with a small laugh. “Atop a mountain is a harsh place during winter, but Princess Celestia has made it work.”

Their idle chatter, Rosewater idly pulling bits of information about Canterlot from an amenable Firelight, continued on into the palace itself, where Rosewater began guiding, as he admitted he’d be lost trying to navigate the labyrinthine corridors.

It was for that reason alone that she ran, quite literally, into Rosetail as they rounded a corner, Silk and Vine further down the hall stopping to watch.

“You—!” Rosetail hissed, bounding backwards and lashing her braided tail. “You traitor!”

Rosewater flicked her own tail in a signal for Firelight to stop and shook her head. “I’m no traitor, Rosetail. I was protecting my own interests. I laid claim to Collar as is my prerogative as a prospective future mate, and she is trying, once again, to take him.”

“She has never—” Rosetail snapped her jaw shut and flicked a look back at Silk and Vine, then puffed herself up and advanced half a step towards Rosewater. “She has never tried to take somepony you laid claim to in the Rose Way.”

“This one,” Rosewater said softly, flattening her ears and keeping the disgust out of her voice, “can’t be claimed ‘our way.’ You didn’t see what he was able to stand against from mother, Rosary, Powder, and Well together. I have to play his game, not mine.”

“Because you’re weak,” Rosetail sneered. “Mother is stronger, smarter, and she’s more responsible for the safety of Merrie than you ever were. Why else did you run away?”

It was the oldest, sharpest weapon in her mothers’ arsenal. If you’re so strong, why didn’t you stay? When she’d looked into Vine’s eyes, into Silk’s, it’d bitten hard at her that she hadn’t stayed. Maybe she could have made a positive influence. Maybe she could have rescued her sisters from her mother’s madness and cruelty.

“I’m not going to discuss this with you today, Rosetail. I’m here on an errand.”

Firelight took that as his cue to step around the corner, brows raised, and dipped his head. “Good afternoon, Miss Rosetail,” he said, the emblem of the sun prominent on his breast, and radiating here in the darker hallway in a way it hadn’t in the bright light of the sun; a potent reminder of who his mistress was. “Lady Rosewater is correct. We are on an errand, and would thank you not to hold us up longer.”

Rosetail quailed, her ears flattening, and backed away, glancing back towards her sisters, who’d taken their cue to advance and bracket their youngest sibling between them.

“Be kind, Rosewater. She’s been forbidden the palace by mother just this afternoon because she ‘failed’ last night, according to Roseate, and failed again to catch you before you’d made your way to the Prim Palace.” Silk’s voice was rougher than usual, her ears haggard, and Vine’s foreleg was trembling as she raised it to comfort Rosetail. “She’s going to stay with us until this gets sorted out.”

“I’m sorry for what I had to do to you, Silk, Vine,” Rosewater said, lowering her head. “If I’d had more time, I would have been gentler.”

Silk stared at her for a heartbeat, then nodded, and Vine a second behind. “I understand and accept your reasoning. It’s been the talk of the market this morning, you know.”

The only surprising part of that was that Silk had already been to the market.

“And Crown? She’s recovered?”

“After cursing my name to the Mare and back for her migraine this morning, yes,” Silk said with a small smile. “Come, Rosetail, and fair day to you, Lord Knight Firelight.”

Rosetail left without much more than a hesitant glance back and a gentle nudge to the back of the head from Vine.

“Your family is…” Firelight gave a look back over his shoulder as they resumed.

“Our family is broken, Firelight. It has been since my father died.” The shiv of memories jabbed at her mind again, and she fended it off only by biting the inside of her lip and shaking her head. “For me, at least. It’s hard to see past that event.”

“Blue Star was beloved in Canterlot,” Firelight offered gently. “It was a surprise to the entire Knighthood when he announced his intentions to stay in Merrie after his tour and resigned his position.”

“I… am to understand a part of that is due to his illness already starting to wear at his ability to fulfill his duties,” Rosewater said, recalling some tidbit from Carnation.

“Aye. True enough. I was just a squire when he died, but I recall my seniors and Princess Celestia herself attending the funeral. The capital was empty save for us squires and a few junior knights.” Firelight smiled softly. “I’m told the oratory given at the gala that year was memorable.”

“I’m… I’m sure it was.” Rosewater had been six, and the pain of loss and pain of betrayal had been too… she bit the inside of her cheek again and shook her head more sharply. “I’d rather focus on the now. I hope you can understand it’s not a time of my life I want to linger on.”

“Of course. My apologies for opening old wounds.”

Roseate’s door was closed, of course, and the guard stationed outside stiffened in the presence of the Royal Guard, their eyes darting from him to each other and back, their holds on their long cudgels braced against their shoulders with one hoof quivering.

“Royal Guard Firelight Spark to see the Baroness,” Firelight announced as he stopped in front of Roseate’s office door, looking at either guard pointedly, only for them to look away and swallow. “With Rosewater Rosethorn in attendance.”

“Please, enter,” Roseate’s calm voice said as her periwinkle magic enveloped the handles of the double doors and swung them wide. “I was expecting you, daughter, but not with such distinguished company.”

“My company shouldn’t have been necessary,” Firelight said with a stern look as he came inside, ignoring the bench-seat she pushed out for him. “Your daughter Rosetail relayed the message to me when I asked. Would you care to explain?”

“Which message? I gave her several, depending on the context of the situation she arrived in.” Roseate leaned to the side to peer theatrically around Rosewater. “Where is your sister, Rosewater?”

“Hiding. Is it any wonder? I doubt she saw me return from the treaty office. I came back from my errand only this past quarter hour.” Rosewater glanced over her back as the silencing wards in the room lit up, but Firelight seemed unperturbed. It made her wonder just how strong the Royal Guard, or at least Firelight, actually was if he was so calm here. “I can’t imagine what you said to her over last night’s fiasco, or what you must have said to her when she failed to catch me.”

“Rosewater,” Roseate said genially, “what have you engaged in, my daughter?”

“I’ve offered to engage Damme directly as Rosemary’s guardian to negotiate for her return, mother,” Rosewater said, smiling and bowing her head. “They accepted. The negotiation is no longer being handled by Merrie or her sitting Baroness.”

Roseate stiffened, but a glance at Firelight told Rosewater all she needed to know about how her mother felt about her chances against him.

“To that end, I am informing you that I have filed the necessary documents with the Treaty Office to be recognized as the official negotiator.”

“Do you have the paperwork?” Roseate demanded, glancing at the Royal Guard again. “For the records. I need to make sure that any bureaucratic endeavors are cancelled.”

“I have it here,” Firelight said, drawing out not the scrollwork… but the red envelope.

As soon as she saw it, Roseate froze in place, going unnaturally still as if the force animating a statue had ceased for all of a frozen breath.

“Ah. I seem to have forgotten it… but this brings me to another concern,” Firelight said in the same genial tone. “Threats of exile against your heir in order to keep her from a Treaty-bonded negotiation are punishable by sanction not only against the city, but against your house and family. In fact, I’ve already sent a recommendation to Her Highness, Princess Celestia that we review any and all exile orders to ensure the sanctity of the process.”

“I would never—”

“What you would or would not do is not at question. What you have done is. Threatening, intimidating, or otherwise interfering with the delegates of a Treaty negotiation for the return of a prisoner of war is illegal.” Firelight slapped the letter on the desk. “The only reason I have not recommended sanctions to Her Highness is that you could not have known prior to the penning of this letter. This is your one and only warning.”

Roseate’s cheek twitched. “I see.” The fury in those eyes, hot and malignant, should have set the letter on fire. Her jaw worked for words that she couldn’t say to a representative of the highest power in Equestria, legal or magical.

“Is there anything else you wish to bring up?” Firelight asked.

“Nay. Only that in the interest of familial unity, Celestia look favorably upon my… unconditional means of negotiation. Merrie has paid enough in reparations and herdgild of late. This responsibility is mine, as her guardian.”

"Then I will include that in my report as well. Thank you, Roseate, for your time. I hope I don’t have to meet you like this again.”

“Mother,” Rosewater said, rising with him. “I’ll be retiring to my home. It has been a tiring two days.”

Roseate sat quietly behind her desk, staring between them, her cheek twitching and the tendons in her neck standing out as her jaw clenched tight over the verbal abuse that waited just below the surface.

On her way out, she saw Silk and Vine conversing quietly off to one side of the garden path, Rosetail nowhere in sight.

She was young, and had a lot of anger in her. And doubts. It hurt to see her youngest sister strung along so neatly behind her mother, but there wasn’t much she could do that Silk and Vine couldn’t also.

Take care of her, please.

“We don’t have a duty to look after her.”

Silk Rose looked up from her book to her sister. Dear, sweet Rose Vine. She was pacing back and forth in their sitting room, tail lashing with every turn, hoofsteps muffled on the carpet. She was kind, and beautiful, and thoughtful. Most of the time. And even now, as agitated as she was, she inspected their home for dirt and smudges and anything not clean, and cleaned it as she passed.

Her golden mane streaked with pink was tied back roughly into a bun at the base of her skull, stray strands slipping free further with every turn and toss of her head, her pink eyes darting to Silk and away, the unasked question about calling upon one of their lovers to share passing between them and falling away again. Neither of them had the stomach for sex.

It’s just us tonight. After dealing with Roseate blowing up following Rosetail’s fleeing, there wasn’t much room for desire. Just worry. Vine was taking it worse, conflicted over wanting to protect the youngest of them and staying out of mother’s warpath.

“We don’t,” Silk said at last, closing her book over a bookmark. “But it’s the right thing to do. Rosewater gave her fair warning.”

“And we don’t owe her—” Vine stopped and turned to look at her. “We do, don’t we?”

“For letting us go? Yes. A little. For letting us rescue Crown and Hip?” Silk snorted. “I used to think she hated all of us.”

Vine resumed her pacing, snapping her tail. “Mother wants us to think she does.”

“Rosewater hasn’t exactly helped things,” Silk reminded her. “She remembers a time before Lace started her reformations. And doesn’t she just love to regale us with stories about how the vile Dammers would love to take us over and, for us…” She touched Vine’s cheek with a spell, drawing her sister away from her worry for a moment to come to her. “We wouldn’t have each other, would we?”

“Mother lies,” Vine whispered, pushing her cheek into the touch as it warmed. “She lied about Rosewater. And Rosemary.”

“Not about everything,” Silk murmured as she rose and nuzzled Vine’s cheek. “The Primfeathers still bombard us with every storm they can get away with.”

Vine nodded into the touch, her breathing slowing as she calmed. “Where do you think she’ll be?”

“Somewhere mother won’t think to find her. But someplace she can drown her sorrows.” Silk drew away before the old desire could rise again. She and Vine had never partaken of each other directly, but she’d seen the look Vine had given her while they were with their lovers. There was no shortage of temptation on either side.

“I can think of one place where we’re not exactly welcome either,” Vine said, drawing away but meeting her eyes. The spark between them grew and faded in an instant of acknowledgment. “Rosy Glow Tavern.”

“I don’t think she’s ever banned us from the tavern. She just doesn’t like us,” Silk said as she turned and pulled down a cloak from its hook. “Best to go incognito anyway.”

Vine nodded quietly and drew hers down as well. Anypony who knew them well would recognize the matching garments, but most would only know them as daughters of Roseate and leave them alone.

Veiled, Silk watched from across the road and through a window as Rosetail sat quite in the open her head lolling from time to time in between drinks of wine. Their youngest sister, who Silk still remembered as having once been as sweet as Rosemary, had been crying. Her reddened eyes could have been from drink, but the crusty tracks down her cheeks could only be tears.

“She doesn’t look good,” Vine murmured, her pink eyes shining as she watched from their table at the Rusty Rose. It was a competitor to Rosy Glow’s, but open air and winding down its business as the last afternoon vestiges of summer warmth marched steadily south. It was more geared towards tourists anyway, and a few Canterlot accents filled the air, as did more distant Los Pegasan, and even the strange, not quite grown up burr of Cloudsdale, still not quite the dream it had started out as.

Tables were set haphazardly, but spaced so that native Merriers and tourists alike could talk or maintain an aloof air if they wished. The Rosy Glow was an exclusive Merrier establishment, and ran year-round. Its tables spaced closely, with short partitions between the bench seats so that Merriers could talk and chat and share life and love with each other without reservation.

“I’m surprised she didn’t pick this place,” Silk whispered back. “Much easier to stay alone.” As evidenced by the ponies that steadfastly ignored the veiled mares in their midst. Not that the Merriers in the Rosy Glow tried to make conversation with Rosetail. She was unveiled, openly displaying her Rosethorn heritage in a tavern not quite hostile to them. But maybe that’s what Rosetail wanted, to sink into a depression surrounded by ponies that hated her.

“We do need to watch over her,” Vine said, seeming to follow Silk’s reasoning. “Remember how she used to be?”

Years and years ago, when she and Vine had been little more than fillies, just growing out of foalhood, Rosetail had been Roseline’s favorite granddaughter aside from Rosewater herself. Even from her dotage months, Roseline had kept her hoof in family affairs until her death, when Rosetail had only barely turned one.

“We…” Had only been fillies, still overawed by Roseate. Silk shook her head. “I think there’s still that filly in her somewhere. Look at her, Vine. Tell me she’s not in there somewhere.”

“You know I can’t,” Vine said with a heavy sigh. “We should go rescue her.”

“She won’t appreciate us coming in and taking her away from her comfort,” Silk said, but couldn’t find it in herself to say no. Just one look from Roseate had done this to Rosetail. They couldn’t let Roseate find her in this state. “But…”

Vine slipped from her chair and left some bits on the table. “I’m going to go to her.”

Before Vine reached the ‘entrance’ of the Rusty Rose, Silk followed after, leaving a few more bits on the table to cover the time they’d spent not ordering anything and annoying Rose Rust, the tavernkeep. “Do we have a plan?”

Vine snorted, not quite a laugh. “Plan? I haven’t planned anything since… you know. I’m going to do what’s right, Silk.”

The street was bustling with late-afternoon traffic, ponies trying to get business done before the official close of the business day, the cacophony of calls and cries a music that Silk enjoyed to dive into on occasion. Vine liked to watch from the sidelines of the trade and bartering bustle that filled the market streets.

Today, she dove through it. Or along the edges. The shops and bazaars on either side of the tavern row tended to spill out into the street at this hour, but still let ponies get to the entrances of the edge bars and taverns.

“I’m with you,” Silk murmured as she caught up.

Rosy Glow’s walls were enspelled to keep out the worst of the bustle, and it was like walking from a waterfall into the cave behind it as the door closed behind them and they dropped their veils to announce themselves.

Rosy Glass looked up from chatting with some patrons and glowered. “One of you is enough. Find someplace else to drink yourselves stupid.”

“We’re here to make that none of us, Rosy Glass,” Silk said with a huff.

“Peace,” Vine said, quick stepping to stand between Silk and Glass. “Please, we’re here to retrieve our sister.”

That gave the tavernkeep at least pause. “Rose Vine, right? Rosewater has said nice things about you.”

Silk gaped at Glass. “Rosewater?”

“It’s you lot that painted her as the Rose Terror, you know.” Glass glowered at Silk again, ears going flat. “Those of us that knew her before… not that what we think means a hill of beans, it seems like.” She shrugged and slid from the bench she shared with a stallion trying hard not to pay attention to the confrontation. “Haven’t seen her in here for years, though. Because of you lot. Does family mean nothing to you?”

Silk looked away. How little she knew about her sister wasn’t something that got thrown in her face often. “She abandoned us,” she offered weakly.

Glass opened her mouth, ears flat, and closed it again. Tendons tightened in her neck as she clenched her jaw and relaxed again. “Get her out of here. I’ll send a bill for her last few bottles.”

Vine edged up to Rosetail, her eyes bleary and bloodshot, unfocused on anything. “Tail, honey?”

Silk stayed back, shifting her gaze between Vine and Glass, wanting to help, but not wanting to give Glass any reason to change her mind and physically throw them all out. The stout earth pony could give them a real fight that Silk didn’t want.

“You…” Rosetail whimpered and pushed a hoof at Vine. “Go ‘way.”

“Shh, shh. We’re here to take you someplace safe, little Tail,” Vine whispered. “Come with us, okay?” She settled a warming spell on Rosetail’s neck and under her cheek. “Come on, little mare.”

Glass shifted her attention from Silk to Vine and softened her look. “She’s been crying for her mommy,” she said with a touch of gruff derision. “Don’t mean that as an insult, that’s what she’s been sayin’.”

Roseate’s poisoned lies. Silk’s ears drooped as she came closer to Vine and covered Rosetail with a blanketing spell and. “Can you walk?”

“At her weight, I’m surprised she’s still conscious,” Glass said with a snort.

“And you kept filling her glass?” Silk growled the question, fixing the tavernkeep with a glare. “Why?”

“Pity, mostly,” Glass said with a thin smile. “Haul her out, will you?” She turned away, dismissing them.

Rosetail managed to walk part of the way to their home before Vine and Silk had to carry her between them. She hadn’t passed out exactly, but had lost what little coordination had let her stumble along, braced between Silk and Vine.

Neither of them wanted to risk getting vomited on by carrying her on a rolling ride on their back, but they had still managed to hoist her with magic between them, keeping her head steady until they got home.

“How is she?” Silk asked from the entrance to the toilet, peeking her head in minutely and testing the air. Vomit fumes with the undercurrent of wine filled the small, boxy room.

“Sleeping, I think,” Vine said, stroking Rosetail’s brow with a warm cloth. “She got most of it out of her system, but she’s going to be in a bad way tomorrow.”

That was a blessing. They could stay in and nurse her instead of being expected to be at the palace. “Do you think she might be safe to sleep in the guest bed?”

“Even if she’s not, we can clean the sheets, love.” Vine looked up, her ears flat. “I had no idea Rosewater thought kindly of me.”

“Nor I,” Silk said, frowning. “Or that she shared it with others. What else don’t we know about her?”

“It’d be easier to list what we do know.” Vine shook her head and pushed herself up, wobbling until Silk caught her. “Thanks. That last bit was exhausting.”

“I know. Let’s get her into bed, then we can talk and plan.” She met her sister’s eyes, finding the worry mirrored in her mind there. “We need a plan, Vine. There’s too much going on here for us to muddle our way through.”

“I know.”

Author's Notes:

Part 2 done, and Book 1 is now officially done!

Interludes can be considered either an epilogue to this story or, probably more apropos, a prologue to book 2, but yay web serial! I don't have to decide!