"Baka," Rayla said affectionately with just a trace of her old fire. Their eyes met in the mirror and Marisol saw herself smile. That, at least, was one thing she was looking forward to. Over the years, her friends had become more guardians than anything else, and she longed for the day when they would be friends first again and she could be merely Maria instead of Marisol. She wondered if she remembered how to be just Maria.
"You are ready, my lady," the maid said, picking up Marisol’s crown from the pillow. She held it out to Rayla, who took the sacred object and place it gently on Marisol’s head. The familiar weight was both comforting and suffocating.
"Then let us go." Marisol stood up and took several small steps in the direction of the door. Rayla fell into step just behind her, a routine that Marisol secretly hated. She'd never gotten used to the fact that only Marius and Thalia would walk beside her.