Between the two of them, Ale and Cloud manage to leave the castle undetected among the other guests exiting at the same time. It's late, so it’s not suspicious, but Cloud still hides behind Ale until they reach his carriage. As they approach, Ale prompts, "I still cannot believe I caught up with you here, of all places." His tone is light with the merriment associated with an event like the princess’s birthday. Cloud's nothing if not a wonderful actress.

"You say that like you wouldn't expect someone like me to be here," she retorts. When Ale fails to reply, seeming confused, Cloud nudges his elbow. "I'm joking, sir. Lighten up."

"Oh, ha," he replies. A coachman stands beside the carriage door, holding it open. 

"Thank you again for offering a ride. I'll just walk home from your place," Cloud says casually, an explanation for him.

"Well, what was I supposed to do when you said your horse was hurt on the way? Leave you to walk home this late?" He fabricates.

"You could've," Cloud shrugs as the Lieutenant General steps inside.

"And what would your mother say about that? I'd like not to infuriate a dear friend of mine." He extends a hand, offering her help. Cloud eyes it, somewhat suspicious. She's climbing into this man's carriage. Tulip trusted this man, though. She called him an older brother. Cloud turns her chin up and takes his hand.

"I'll make sure to tell her of your good deed," she remarks, rolling her eyes. Ale chuckles as they sit, the door closing behind them. The lighthearted conversation ceases immediately.

The ride is wordless, the only sound being the sounds of the carriage and thunder rumbling every now and then. Cloud leans her head against the side, gazing blankly into the night through the window, leg shaking, fingers cradled around the rose. Ale leans forward, elbows propped on his knees, head in his hands. Thankfully, it's not a long enough distance to send either into too deep of a mental spiral. The coachman lets them off before an impressive, but not pontifical estate somewhere just outside the center ring of the capital. As the racket of wheels and horseshoes disappears, Ale presents, "My home here in the capital. There should be one more man in there, who shares the space with me, as well as a young woman, who tends to the house." Cloud appreciates both the heads up of the other people as well as the more subtle, "I'm not expecting you to be comfortable being alone with me" within the description. She nods.

She rubs her forearm, antsy. "I'll try to keep my visit brief. I think there's someone I can ask to board me for a while, but I don't believe she'll respond at this hour," Cloud mutters. 

"I'm sure you'll be no trouble. You seem like a polite young woman," Ale responds. "Stay without guilt on your conscience. I agreed to take you from the castle of my own will knowing you probably had nowhere to stay."

"Thank you," is all she can really say. Thank you for helping her leave, for being kind without reason, for talking her down, for giving her a place to stay the night. All Cloud’s mind is occupied with are belittlements of herself for taking advantage of this man. She doesn’t deserve this goodwill. Guilt is the only clear thing she can feel at the moment, the rest a blurry mess like images beneath the water's surface.

"You're welcome," Ale says, stepping up to his door. Cloud follows, timid. Upon opening the door, he declares, "I'm back! I brought company." A young woman emerges from a side opening into another room. She strikes Cloud as being composed with her cleanly pulled back hair and the smooth way in which she strides. A second person pops around the corner at the top of a shiny staircase. He has skin not quite as dark as Reale, but still much deeper than most who live in Frith. The lady does her job well, Cloud notes as she returns to scanning the foyer.

"Welcome home, General," she greets. "And who is this?" Cloud can sense Ale hesitate despite the brevity of it. Before it stretches to a noticeable length, Cloud provides an answer along with a respectful bow.

"I'm Crown Flash," she introduces, leaving the rest to explain for Ale. He knows these people, it's better that way. The second person descends the stairs. His hair bounces as he walks. It’s a pastel tint, suggesting he's Paxian, at least partially.

"Miss Flash is Miss Garden's dear friend," Strong explains to both the woman taking his decorated coat and the man making his way down the steps. His tone shifts ever so slightly as he specifically addresses the man now at the foot of the stairs. "You know Tulip, Nicolas." His near-onyx eyes scan over Cloud in a casual, but noticeable, manner.

"Where is Miss Garden?" Nicolas, apparently, replies, and yep, Paxian accent. Western, if Cloud recalls correctly. That said, it’s not incredibly strong. "Was she not going to come for a visit tonight? She was to get off work early, yes?"

"Yes, well, tonight proved more, uh, challenging than originally planned," Ale sighs, exhaustion creeping at the edge of his words. "I'll explain everything when Our guests come over tomorrow. From there, we have some decisions to make." He glances at Cloud as he closes that statement. "She will be staying here tonight. In the mess of everything, her original accommodations were rendered… problematic. Being so close with Tulip, I offered up our home." Oh, that's right! Ale said they share this space, so this is Nicolas's home, as well. Cloud dips her head in a bow once again.

"I'm sorry to intrude," she apologizes. "It was short notice, but that's no excuse. Your home is lovely."  Over Cloud's head, Nicolas raises his brows, one slit by a pinkish-white scar, at Ale. 

"She is more polite than Tulip," he jokes in Paixan. "A friend of Miss Garden is a friend of mine. You are welcome in our home." Cloud raises her head, clearing her throat awkwardly.

She replies, "I'm not sure she would like to hear that, but thanks." Nicolas freezes, and for a moment, Cloud thinks him embarrassed. That definitely was not the goal. Cloud just wanted to let him know that she speaks Paixian if his plan was to use the language to speak in private. Would it be helpful to eavesdrop? Yeah, probably, but these people are offering a room in their home to her. That’s a lot of trust to hand to a stranger, and she wants to be worthy of it. Oh, he doesn’t think she’s mocking him, does he? Cloud can feel the narrowly held back panic rising, inevitable as the tide. That is, of course, until he beams like a delighted child.

"She knows Paixan!" He laughs. "Finally, someone I can speak my mother tongue with aside from you." Ale rolls his eyes as Nicolas brushes him aside, stepping closer to Cloud. She can't help but think of those big dogs that aren't friendly until they smell your hands and are angels from then on. Cloud forces a smile she wishes was genuine but ends up feeling weighed down with the pressure of the sky.

“I’m sorry, perhaps that can wait until tomorrow,” she apologizes again. “Tonight was taxing. I’m really sorry. I’d really like to just freshen up and go to sleep.” Nicolas nods in understanding and turns to Ale while Cloud turns to the lady. “Hello. I can tell from only this area of the house that you do your job exceptionally. What is your name?”

“Well, aren’t you a sweetheart!” the woman praises. “You may call me Belle.” Her hair is lighter as well, though her skin is a much paler brown than Nicolas’s, closer to Leo’s.

“Belle,” Cloud repeats, “is there a bathtub I might be able to borrow?”

“Of course, dear, I’ll bring it to the guest room for you.”

“That would be amazing, thank you.” Cloud does her best to make sure her words don’t sound as empty as she feels. “Sorry for the trouble.” Just because Cloud’s mind is watery, cold, and unfeeling at the moment doesn’t mean these people don’t deserve her utmost appreciation for the help they have no need to offer her.

“Nonsense, it’s what these two pay me to do,” she chuckles, waving Cloud to follow her to the guest room, up the stairs and away from Nicolas and Ale. They watch the two women disappear from view. Nicolas props his hands on his hips and faces Ale.

"Sake." It’s his Heiwanese name, as he prefers to be called. "What happened? You look like you just crawled out of the depths of the Low Realm." Sake doesn't avert his eyes. Nicolas kind of wishes he had. Any semblance of collected sternness melts away as Nicolas's hands fall to his sides. Gods, it was hyperbole, but now the simile matches quite well. "Sake?" The man in question brings a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. He shakes his head.

"They caught her," he whispers. Nicolas tenses, eyes wide and brows furrowed. 

"No," he states absently. No, that can't be right. "No, Tulip is so careful-"

"-And she was in an extremely dangerous environment," Sake hisses. "Caution can only protect you for so long when your daily patrol brings you through a field of pressure-operated mines. I never should have agreed to put her there. This is all my fault-" 

"-Shut up, no, it's not. She would clock you if she heard you say that," Nicolas rejects. "Can we get her? There's still time before the sunrise, maybe we could get ahold of-"

"-No, no we can't save her," Sake admits. His hand drops from his face, and he falls against the front door to keep himself up. He shoves from his lips, "We saw her body, Nick." Nicolas shifts his weight, standing mutely in the hallway, staring at the worn-down man before him. Rain begins pelting against the windows.

Upstairs, once all set up in the bath, Cloud stares out the window at the raging storm reflecting the hurricane in her brain. Like a tsunami, tidal waves shatter through the glass fogging her mind. Her breath shutters from her lungs as the white-hot wrath floods through her once more, all the way to her fingertips, spilling from her eyes.

How could she let this happen? How did it come to this?! How could she let Tulip come to that kind of end?! How is she this useless?! She deserves that kind of treatment, but not Tulip! She can't just be gone!

But she is.

Cloud tears oxygen from the room and curls forward, shoving her head underwater. Lightning strikes nearby, shaking the house with the resounding, blaring boom of the thunder accompanying it as Cloud shrieks into the water, concealing the sounds of glass bottles teetering off their shelves and smashing their contents onto the ground.