Twilight loved the quiet walk from one home to the other. There was something deliciously nostalgic about retracing her fillyhood path, overshadowing her smaller invisible hoofprints. It helped that the walk itself was through one of the nicest parts of town, avoiding the business of the markets and the shops and the calling of pedestrians.
Her ancestral home and her accustomed path were both firmly in the old district of the Celestial Tier that was sometimes called the Garden District. She still remembered Celestia explaining why, years and years ago.
She had been sitting on the floor of her mentor’s study, reading diligently—at that age she did everything diligently—while Celestia took tea. When Twilight had been a filly that had been a fairly common occurrence. It had all been a mixture of shyness and happiness then. Being a student at Celestia’s school had been a great accomplishment, but actually becoming her liege’s official private student had been a rush.
And little Twilight hadn’t known exactly how to handle it, had she? Not entirely. But foals rarely know in their minds what they understand in their hearts. Twilight hadn’t really thought through being comfortable in the Princess’ presence, she simply had been. She hadn’t thought through or analyzed her way into deciding that the proper place for studying was Celestia’s teatime. It had just been the obvious choice.
Celestia had asked her what book so captivated her, and young Twilight had held it up with a wobbly magic grip. A history of Canterlot, she had said proudly. And Celestia had smiled.
And do you enjoy history, then, my student? She had asked, and of course Twilight had said yes. So Celestia had told her all kinds of things. The district where she lived had once been a great garden kept by the Princess herself. But as the principality grew ever greater, she had less time and energy to devote to her garden, and so she had invited a few of her trusted subjects to live in and maintain the wooded hills. Time had rolled on, but even so as more houses were built, the inhabitants never forgot to make their homes beautiful and their street shaded with trees and begirt with flowers.
Twilight, in the present day, sighed. Not an unhappy sigh, per se. It was a good day, all told. Lunch with her parents had been wonderful. Her mother had talked her ear off about everything from Ponyville goings-on to her new relationship. Her father had been eager to discuss her last paper. And also her relationship.
They were excited for her and in general. And it was nice. But it was also a little overwhelming.
“Nice, but a little overwhelming” was more and more becoming Twilight Sparkle’s motto. It perfectly described the experience of going from being more or less alone with just Spike for company to having a whole circle of friends and a village that knew who she was. It very much described the aftermath of getting wings. It was also almost painfully perfect for describing what it was like to date Princess Celestia, Driver of the Chariot of the Sun and Protector of the Realms and also a lot of other titles that Twilight knew by heart.
She had so much going on, and here she was walking the same path as she had as a filly and for a moment the world just seemed very, very close and very, very full. It was not that she was unhappy. Just… overwhelmed.
The feeling hadn’t started with Celestia’s offer to explore the dream together, but Twilight had found it harder to put her own slow-burning distress away since that discussion. She wanted to see whatever there was to see. Not only for herself, but because she wanted to know more about Celestia. She wanted to be firm in her knowledge of Mere Celestia.
And, here she was, on her fillyhood track.
It bothered her. It bothered her that it bothered her. It wasn’t symbolic. It was a straight line from home to palace. Her feelings about it weren’t an indictment on anything. They were just a reaction.
But she’d read too many books to ignore the juxtaposition of Thoughts and Place. It tugged at her, asking to be examined and overanalyzed.
Until, of course, the letter found her halfway between anxiety and home.
The courier was not like any courier Twilight had ever encountered. He fell out of the sky like a dark comet, wreathed in light—or was that illusion, the sun glinting off of dark armor?—his face shrouded and his barding unfamiliar. She did not recognize him as friendly at all at first. She saw glinting black and leathery wings and her mind was filled with changelings.
But even as she called up her considerable magic to face this ambush, the courier bowed to her and she stopped, baffled.
“My Lady,” he said, his voice gravelly and dark, like echoes in a cave.
Twilight blinked at him, but recovered. “Who are you?”
“This one is called Good Harvest, my Lady. The Liberator wishes for your presence and asked that you be given this.” As he spoke, the strange pony pulled an envelope from his barding and presented it to her, still not meeting her gaze.
Twilight took it with her magic and glanced at it. Luna’s presence was obvious. Most things she did, to be fair, were rather obvious in one way. Luna was the kind that announced herself loudly but did her true work quietly. Crescent moons decorated the front, and it was addressed to her.
“Thank you,” she said. “Uh… forgive me, but… I don’t recognize your barding. I’ve seen plenty of Night Guards, but you don’t look remotely like them.”
And he didn’t, it was true. Sure, there was a similar color scheme but that was about the extent of it.
“This one is of the Duskwatch,” said the stranger. “I am sorry to have startled you. Shall I return your response to the Liberator?”
Twilight frowned slightly at that. She still had no idea why he was referring to Luna that way. There was a story there and it tugged at her. “Of course. Tell her I’ll be there presently. Should I just waltz in or is she expecting me at a certain time?”
“At your convenience,” the stranger said, and with that he launched himself into the air.
Startled, Twilight tried to follow him with her eyes but he dived low and she lost him behind an oak tree and an old house.
Left without much else to do, Twilight looked down at the letter still tight in her magical grip and shrugged before opening it.
The message, as it was, went thus:
Dearest Twilight,
As a favor, I would request your presence in my chambers for a bit of palaver. Having made inquiries as to your preferences and tastes I will of course have tea and sundries provided for you. Take heart, for nothing serious is afoot. It has simply been a long time since you and I took tea together and you do happen to be “in the neighborhood” as the ponies of this day say.
Oh, and a friendly reminder: you have not continued our game in some time. As I recall, I have your king between the horns and I would very much like to finish him off. Do get around to that.
Yours,
Luna
Twilight chuckled. “Hardly,” she said to the air. “You’re too narrow-minded, Luna. Pay attention to the rest of the board.” But she smiled, and folded the letter up.
Twilight found another Lunar soldier waiting for her at the palace gates. This one was a bit more conventional, wearing the old night watch barding and insignia that Luna had decided to keep. He saluted smartly and she nodded at him.
“I’ve been asked to inform you that the Princess is in her studio, my Lady,” he said.
Twilight wished that she had had the chance to get to know some of the night staff when she’d lived in the Palace. “Thank you. Change of shift already?”
He smiled briefly at her. “It’s already five, ma’am.”
“Is it?” Twilight blinked and then chuckled. “I lost track of time, I guess. I’m still not used to being without my careful itinerary, but the Princesses asked me to, ah, ‘take it easy’. As you were,” she added, and trotted past.
Twilight knew the palace better than she knew any other place in the world, perhaps. All of it except for the suite of rooms that Luna now inhabited.
They had been mostly sealed off when Twilight had been a filly. Not all of them, of course. The Lunar observatory certainly had never been unlocked that she knew of, but the small Lunar library had always been open. Few had ventured in besides herself, and even then she had been largely ignorant of the place’s significance.
So she was grateful when a maid met her at the door leading to Luna’s wing of the palace. The maid was a bat pony, short and frankly adorable, with eyes like twin blood moons that she swore gleamed.
“My Lady,” the maid said, and curtsied. Twilight smiled at her, and she continued. “My name is—”
“I remember,” Twilight broke in, grinning. “You’re Hyacinth, aren’t you?”
“Yes! Oh, I’m glad that you remembered me, my Lady.” The maid beamed even wider, if such were possible. “The Princess is in her studio. But, ah… you’ll need my help to find her, I think. Have you visited my Lady’s apartments whilst the lights were out?”
Twilight blinked. “No, I don’t think I have. I’ve been in her study before, but I remember it being lit. Not brightly, I suppose, but lit.”
Hyacinth nodded. “Sometimes, she wishes to be in darkness. She told me that I should light your way if you found it disorienting or unpleasant, but I can also lead you if you wish.”
“Lead on,” Twilight said.
Another bow, and Hyacinth opened the great doors that separated Luna’s domain from the general palace. The difference was immediate. Twilight had walked these halls before, but now they were in pitch blackness, far darker than at first she thought was even natural. She balked for a moment, but Hyacinth trotted through the open door way and Twilight awkwardly shuffled in after her.
She couldn’t see a thing. Her first impulse was to call up arcane light, but the door closing behind her startled that instinct away. Something moved past her, and Twilight tensed, only to hear Hyacinth’s voice.
“Are you alright? It is no trouble to light a few of the braziers.”
“How is it this dark? I can’t see anything!”
“There are few windows,” Hyacinth said. “There used to be many more, they tell me, but the Liberator had most of them removed and the gaps filled in. I am surprised you had not noticed.”
“I… I wasn’t paying attention at the time. I usually see Luna in Celestia’s apartments,” Twilight said weakly. “How will you guide me if I can’t see?”
Twilight heard the clack of hooves against stone and a gentle touch on her shoulder. “By touch, if you are amenable. Because you can use magic, you can simply keep a light touch on me and I shall walk ahead. The halls are quite clear of anything which you could stumble over.”
Twilight bit her lip and then nodded. Calling up light still seemed appealing, but she had already accepted help and it seemed rude to do anything else now. She found Hyacinth with a light telekinetic touch, resting it on her back, and then her guide turned and began to trot down the hallway.
It was not easy, but keeping up was not quite as hard as she had anticipated. Hyacinth did not dawdle, but her pace was not so fast that Twilight had to speed up.
At last, they stopped, and Hyacinth turned towards her. Twilight let go of her magic.
“Here we are. I am not sure what my Lady is working on, but please be quiet as you enter.”
With that, Twilight heard her open the door. Beyond, she saw a room illuminated by light pouring out from under another door in the back. She thanked the maid softly and walked in, careful to stay in the light and not stray where she could not see well enough to avoid anything precious Luna had set up.
The door was unlocked. She opened it.
Luna sat at a desk, hunched over some work. Several floating orbs of white light hung over and around her, making the room so bright that it hurt Twilight’s eyes for a moment. She winced, covered her face, and took a step back.
“Come in, come in. I’ll only be a moment,” Luna said. Her voice seemed distant. Calm, but in a flat sort of way.
Twilight grimaced and uncovered her eyes, only to find that the room’s lights were dimmer now. She stepped forward and stood in front of the desk.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Come and see.”
So she did, orbiting the desk until she could get a better look.
Luna held a paintbrush in her magical grip, and it floated above a small pewter statue, more of a figurine. Already, it was half painted, and if the brush’s catlike aggressive hovering was anything to go off of, it would be done soon.
“That’s an old Unicorn kingdom soldier, isn’t it?” she asked. “I recognize the style of his barding from the history books.”
Luna smiled and nodded, but said nothing.
Twilight watched her work until some point of completion and then Luna stretched and turned to her. “My apologies. I was lost in my work.”
“New hobby?” Twilight asked with a smile.
“Something like that,” Luna replied. “It is… a meditative sort of practice. I happened upon it in a conversation between two of my guards and made a few inquiries. Amusingly, it is a far more ancient practice than they believed.”
“Gaming?”
“Yes. You know, the old pegasi commanders would play such games, legatus versus legatus, centurion against centurion. I played a bit myself here and there. They were a way to keep one’s spirits up after a hard march and a long flight. Our way of playing was a bit different, I will say. A bit cruder. I also thought it was a bit more realistic.” Luna examined her work and sighed. “And, after all, I do paint. But I did not call you here to talk of my hobbies.”
“I was wondering. You mentioned our game but if you’d wanted to chat you would have just dropped by at dinner or for tea afterwards. But you didn’t seem to have an urgent tone. What’s going on?”
“A bit of this and that. There are better venues for conversation than this.” Luna stood, stretched again, and her horn lit as the room beyond lit up. She gestured and Twilight followed her through the studio, which was filled with paintings.
Twilight wished she could stay in that room. She wished she could examine each and every single canvas. Most were completed, others not, and she wanted to see them all. The few records she had found speaking of Luna extensively from before her isolation always talked of her artistic skill, and Celestia had mentioned it wistfully more than once, and there it was. But she knew better than to pry. But sneaking a glance couldn’t hurt.
Luna led her on, lighting a brazier here and there with magic fire that glowed green, until Twilight began to recognize where she was. Luna’s study wasn’t so far from her studio.
Getting comfortable distracted them both, as did the arrival of a tray of pastries and tea, and that was good. Twilight had long ago learned that the primary utility of tea and snacks was to act as a buffer. Ponies needed that, a space between themselves and the coming conversation. Even a good conversation needed some space. Ponies needed space. They didn’t always need it at all points. But in general, they needed it.
So she gathered herself, rehearsed silently and idly what she might talk about. She prepared answers and questions, plotted out half a dozen might-be’s and maybes. It was not a worried or a fretful thing, but a calm one. A curious one. Luna seemed at ease.
Of course, in the back of her mind, there was the stirring of Something Else which she had begun to call the Court. A gaggle of competing voices, sometimes quieter, sometimes louder. Now they stirred within her, talking over each other. Luna is a trickster, they said. She is a shadow inside of a darker shadow, they whispered. But they said this not with malice, only with speculation.
Twilight was glad for the seat in front of Luna’s desk. There was nothing quite so bad as an uncomfortable chair, in her opinion. Another thing she had learned from Celestia in the time since she had ascended: little details mattered. The softness of the chair, the choice of refreshments, even the color of the wall. The sisters chose everything with care, even when they seemed carefree.
At last, Luna had situated herself, and for a moment Twilight was transported to a much, much earlier time. Gone was the regal but relaxed style of her former mentor, the style of the modern day which stressed approachability and personability. Luna had become something else entirely, something far more made of steel than what Twilight was used to. Her face was set, again, not with malice, yet it was a hard look. An appraising look, a statue’s gaze. It demanded a solemnity which Twilight found bewildering, but only for a moment.
And as soon as she had acclimated, Luna threw her for another loop.
“What are your intentions with my sister?”
Twilight, who had been for all of her casual behavior regarding her own highborn status raised well, managed not to spit out her tea.
“Excuse me?”
“The question remains.”
“I mean… I mean, you know we’re, uh dating. Courting. One of those.”
“Yes, I am very well aware.” Luna nodded, before returning to her immobile stauesque pose. “My sister’s tastes don’t often turn this way, did you know? But that’s not what I wished to discuss. What is your intention with this courtship?”
Twilight sputtered. There weren’t really words coming out more than just syllables of dismay. “I… I mean…” she waved her hoof. “You know.”
Luna raised a single eyebrow.
“You know,” Twilight repeated, a little desperately. “I mean, what every relationship is, uh, intending?” Luna didn’t budge. She sighed. “I’m sorry, you just caught me off-guard.”
“As was my intention, I confess.” Luna took a breath and seemed to relax. She leaned forward, ears pricked. “But I suppose might ask you in a different way. You are serious, yes? Do you love my sister? That may seem like an almost insulting question, but I mean it quite earnestly.”
“Of course I do,” Twilight replied slowly. “I’ve loved her a long time, Luna.”
“As you’ve said before—as she has said before.” Luna glanced away, as though lost in reminiscing.
“Is… is she… did I do something wrong?” Twilight asked, starting to rise.
Luna looked shocked and reached a hoof out towards Twilight. “No! Not at all. Rather, you’ve done many things quite right. Do calm yourself, friend, nothing is amiss. Celestia offered to let you visit her Court, as I understand it.”
Twilight settled back and nodded.
There was some silence then, as Twilight tried to recover and Luna plotted. Twilight found her eyes wandering anywhere but Luna.
The room was crowded, filled to the ceiling almost with books and scrolls. Luna’s desk was a disaster zone, so drastically different from her sister. But, to Twilight’s sudden distracted amusement, the inbox was neat and orderly.
As if on cue, the door to the study opened and Hyacinth, the maid from before, returned with a bundle of papers. Twilight caught a glimpse of Luna’s face and filed away the sudden soft, happy look there for later.
“Can I get you anything?” Hyacinth asked, her gaze flicking between the two ponies..
“No, dear Hyacinth, we are doing well. Did you bring me more of your torturous modern rubbish?” Luna asked in a tone of feigned weariness.
Twilight watched, interested but not knowing quite why, as Hyacinth smiled softly and simply placed her pile neatly into the inbox. “I can always have some of your staff help lighten the load, if you wish.”
Luna grimaced. “And let those fools conduct the state? The helm is not meant for too many hooves.”
“We do have councils now,” Hyacinth said, still smiling as she took the papers from the outbox and straightened them carefully. “Times have changed, my Lady.”
“I suppose they have. Some things stay the same,” Luna said softly.
“Some things,” Hyacinth agreed. She turned to Twilight Sparkle. “Lady Sparkle, is my dear Lady troubling you?”
“Not at all,” Twilight said, cracking that sort of smile one smiles when unsure how to respond. “Just a bit of a discussion.”
Hyacinth gave her a flat look and then turned back to Luna. “Oh, you are still cruel sometimes, aren’t you?”
“Hyacinth,” Luna said, with something of a grimace.
“Yes, yes. I’m leaving. A meddling seneschal am I,” she said and chuckling, all but danced out.
Luna sighed, and then chuckled. “My seneschal is rather, ah, familiar.”
“I like her. She reminds me of Raven a bit, but decidedly more spirited,” Twilight said. “I thought she was a maid.”
“Oh, she is. She serves in both respects. Perhaps I’ll tell you one day how she came into my service.”
“She came at a good time. Things were getting a bit bad there for a second,” Twilight said. “Celestia did tell me that she wanted to share her Court with me. I’m not sure what it will be like.”
“Boring,” Luna said flatly. “I do not jest. It is as dull as my sister is in the waking world of our subjects.”
“Aw, that’s not fair.”
“Ah, give her a decade,” Luna said, waving her hoof. “She is delightful sometimes, yes, but so dull! So sedentary! She prefers to read these days! Ah, she used to keep up with me drink for drink. We had such adventures. You must ask her about it sometime.”
“I’ll try to keep it in mind,” Twilight replied, trying hard to resist the urge to ask there and then.
“Do so. I’ll be asking later. I think you’ve perhaps guessed that her offer was not casual.”
Twilight shifted in the chair. “Yeah, I had kind of gathered. She hesitated.”
“Might I ask you something you may not enjoy answering?”
Twilight paused.
“Yes. Sure, go ahead.”
“Did it bother you that she hesitated? Did it hurt a bit?” Luna looked at her steadily, her dark eyes betraying nothing.
Twilight looked away. The piles of books, the painting of some long forgotten conflict, the wood panneling, anything but at Luna’s searching eyes.
“What is this all about?” she said softly.
“I shall tell you. But I need to know some things first. Have I upset you?” Luna lowered her head slightly, glancing over at Twilight.
“It bothered me,” Twilight said. “A little. Because I’m insecure. I’m worried about us, about our relationship. About… about whether or not I’m enough for her, about whether or not I’m boring, or going too fast or too slow.”
“Have you had lovers before?” Luna leaned forward slightly.
“Not… not exactly.” Twilight fidgeted with her tea cup, swirling the dregs.
“Ah.”
“But she didn’t mean anything about it! I think. I didn’t take it personally. And she offered, and I felt like that was important.”
“It was. It was very significant. Do you know who else besides her has seen that place?”
“You, I guess.”
Luna nodded. “And only myself. You will be the first to step foot. In fact, you will be perhaps the first beyond our small number to even know that such a thing exists. She looked at Twilight with hooded eyes. “This is a heady thing, you know.”
“Oh… The first?” Twilight sat back and took a reassuring sip of tea.
“Aye.”
“I’m… I’m not really sure how to process that.”
“It is perfectly fine not to know.” Luna paused. “Twilight, you are my dear friend. But I must also protect my sister. I will be the one ferrying you, after all. Do you understand? I wish only for you to know a bit of what this all means.”
“So… I guess I should be, what, careful? Cautious? I don’t want to go too far. I know how fragile this all is.” Twilight chewed her lower lip slightly.
“Fragile?” Luna asked, furrowing her brow. “Explain.”
“I mean…” Twilight gestured vaguely. “I’m not exactly drawing from a lot of personal experience here, but I know enough to know that any romance is fraught. Step wrong in the early stages, and it all falls apart. A relationship, friendship or romantic or whatever it is, is always kind of like… like a game. No, a dance, I guess. No, that’s not it. It’ll work. If you step wrong in the beginning, it throws the whole thing of… if you step wrong enough in the beginning…”
Luna hummed. “That’s a bleak mode of thought.”
Twilight just shrugged and sank back into the comfortable chair which was doing a poor job of being comforting. “I know. I am worried that if I push, if I go too far… I don’t know. I’ll scare her off? Or I’ll come across as desperate or needy or childish or something.”
“Not a totally invalid fear.”
“Exactly! But I don’t know where the line is. Now I’m worried that even going will be too much.”
“I don’t think so, necessarily,” Luna countered. “It needn’t be.”
“But it may be that way. And what if she misinterprets my caution? Agh, this is agonizing.”
Luna laughed. “Ah, to be young and in love.”
Twilight glared at her. “This is not funny.”
“It is, in a distant sort of way. I do not mean for you to fret. Only to be in the know, as it were. This is very important.”
“I know.”
Luna took up her saucer and cup and took a long sip. “I am sorry that I began as I did. I was only having a bit of fun. But I do want you to be thinking very seriously about what you and my sister want. Love is not a thing to be rushed, of course. It is also not a thing to be taken on willy-nilly.”
“Yeah.” Twilight sighed. “You know, she wanted me to visit everyone’s.”
“Ah, yes. Mine and Cadance’s as well. I believe you’ll like mine more than hers. If I judge you correctly, that is. And I have been a good judge of character before. Once or twice, at least.”
“What is yours like? Or hers? Or Celestia’s?”
“Celestia’s is dull and flagellant. I am only partially kidding. It has changed quite a bit recently. Mine own is a bit crowded, but not as crowded as my niece’s. One is never far from good company in the Court of Love.”
“Is it… is it like when you and your sister hold court?”
“Not exactly. It was, once. That is where the name started. But it changed over time as we changed. It changed when we realized that it could be something other than a reflection of duty. For a time we learned how to be rulers that way, and then we branched out, imagining more and more, building and building. Taller and taller we climbed. And then one day we stopped. We…” Luna shrugged. “It is complicated. It would take a long time to explain.”
Everything seemed to, Twilight did not say. As much as hearing that over and over, that there was history to things she did not yet know, excited her… it was frustrating. She was always ten steps behind.
There was another pause. Twilight shifted in her seat, wondering what to say next. What was required of her here? What would satisfy Luna? Was that even the right question to ask?
“You seem pensive,” Luna said between bites of a flaky confection of some sort.
“A bit, yes,” Twilight replied. She rested her chin on a hoof and sighed. “Luna, can I be honest with you?”
“Of course.”
“I always feel… like, ten steps behind. Just in general. With Celestia, with being a Princess… I’m always playing catch up. Will I always feel like this?”
Luna nodded throughout, and when Twilight fell silent she hummed for a moment. That moment stretched out a bit too long, but before Twilight could say anything else, could somehow elaborate on her feeling, Luna finally answered.
“Well, I can say with some degree of certainty that the mantle of rule never truly becomes easier,” she began slowly. “Hard decisions do not become easier with time. If anything, they become harder. Of course, you will not have quite the same weight as we did, so long ago.”
“Things work a bit differently, yes.”
Luna nodded. “But, as for the rest… Celestia is… old. It is odd to think of ourselves this way. Not that we aren’t cognizant of this fact. If anything, my dear sister and I live, breath, and move in every moment in the shadow of the fact that we have been and shall be beyond the lives of most everyone we meet.”
Twilight leaned in, putting her tea aside. “And I’m not sure what to do about that!”
“Should you do anything?”
She was taken aback. “Well… shouldn’t I? Isn’t that a huge gulf?”
Luna shrugged. “Of course.”
“Then shouldn’t I… I mean…”
Luna waved her questions away. “Hark, Twilight Sparkle: we have both loved many times, and I can tell you truthfully that rarely did that gulf inhibit us or our beloveds. Consider this, that we are not so different. I have seen much more than thee—forgive me, then you—and that shall never change.
But is that not true in this day and age of most any pony you would meet and fall in love with? In my age, ponies did not leave the place of their birth without some compelling need. In this age, they seem to wander far abroad merely because they can.
In a way, we have picked back up the even older ways, before the cities, but we have kept the progress made since that halcyon time. Difference is not so much a gulf but a spice, methinks.”
“So just… don’t worry about it?” Twilight said, slumping a bit.
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Then?”
Luna laughed. “Learn! Is that not what you do best, ‘Faithful Student’?” She made a broad, grand gesture. “You must learn! And quickly, though that is not to say you do not have time. Nay, you have nothing but. Look at this as a chance to learn more. Look at every instance you feel such a thing as this, this being ‘behind’ as you say, as a chance to learn more. Do you not wish to learn more of my sister?”
Twilight smiled despite herself. “Always.”
“Then that settles it,” Luna said and returned to her tea.
“That… what?”
“We have talked about it, as I promised my sister we would. I will ferry you in your dreaming. Would you indeed still like to visit the other Courts?”
Twilight shrugged. “Of course, even though I’m not sure exactly what that entails.”
“Of course, of course. We will have to space these things out. I will begin thinking on it. I believe you will be ready to explore either my own or your sister-in-law’s Court in another week. We will deliberate amongst ourselves as to which is more appropriate. But for now? Let us put this to rest.” She shrugged. “I think that you are in the right set of mind, as much as you can be! And there is not much to be said or done before the unfolding of my sister’s choice. And… Well. You and I have a game to finish, don’t we?”