Reale’s eyes widen as Cloud sobs quietly before her. Sobs. She hasn’t seen Cloud cry since the woman was six. “I’m sor-ry,” she stammers out, wiping her blotchy face and sniffling. “I don’t—I shouldn’t break down in front of you. I’m sorry. It’s just. I’ve just. I don’t know.” Her voice is scratchy, rose thorns in her throat. Tears continue to spill over her eyes despite herself, acid down her cheeks. Reale doesn’t know what to do. Though Cloud’s never told anyone, for obvious reasons, exactly what her relationship was with Tulip, Reale’s not blind. Pace is much more accepting of differences than Frith. Anyone with her education, upbringing, and a brain could see the women loved each other no matter the specifics of their relationship. Instinct tells her to hug the poor girl falling apart before her, but she knows Cloud hates being touched. Watching her dance with people is painful. Still, she doesn’t know what to say. She can’t imagine the raw pain Cloud’s going through while trying to restrain it at the same time.

“Don’t be sorry,” she still attempts. “Cloud, I know we haven’t been close for a long time, but I still care about you. Of course, you can stay here for a while. I’ll hide you in my own room if I have to.”

Cloud, still hidden behind her hands, breathes out a hushed, “thank you.” She shouldn’t be showing weakness like this. This is the kind of stuff you deal with on your own, away from other people. She wipes her eyes, irritated, once more. Reale, timidly, reaches out a hand, giving Cloud enough time to step away or smack her. When she doesn’t, Reale places it on her shoulder. It’s warm, Cloud notes. Ordinarily, she wears some armor around her neck and shoulders, leaving any touch cold.

“I’m not going to say it’s okay. It’s not,” Reale continues. “It is okay, though, to mourn. I’m not going to hold crying against you when something like that happened. There’s no need to apologize.” Cloud bites her tongue, yanks on the leash of her retort that of course, she’d say that. She’s Pacian. That’s rude. And probably xenophobic. And uncalled for, since she’s just trying to be nice; Cloud can recognize that. Sniffling, she lowers her hands. She keeps her head down. The notion is nice: the concept that displaying severe emotion is welcome and acceptable. “Do you want my parents to know you’re here?” Cloud turns the rose in her hands, withering slightly after a day with no water. 

“No, but they should probably be aware of my presence,” Cloud states. “I don’t want them to freak out if they find me.”

"That’s probably a good idea,” Reale agrees. She removes her hand from Cloud’s shoulder, and oddly, Cloud finds that she misses it. She doesn’t get many caring touches at home. Actually, she won’t get any at all anymore. Cloud wilts, the tears threatening to revamp. “How is this: I’ll tell them to keep it on the down-low, and I won’t tell my siblings.” Cloud nods. “Okay. Did you want to stay here? I can get my parents to tell the staff to avoid it.” Cloud’s stayed in this room once or twice before, as a child. It’s nice, and she can use magic to lock it securely. However, there’s always a chance of being caught, either in here or at any point she needs to leave the room. Is Reale truly going to put up with this? With her?

“It might be easier to explain should I be discovered if you’re nearby,” Cloud admits, fidgeting again. Gods, she’s being such a hindrance. 

“If you’re alright with a daybed, you can stay in my room,” Reale offers. It’s not like she has a right to be picky when Cloud’s imposing on her. She nods again. “Alright, then.” Reale holds out her hand to Cloud. Cloud, acutely aware that she had just been wiping her face, lets her sleeve cover her hand to take hold of it. She’s been taking a lot of hands lately. With a violet ring and a flash, they’re in Reale’s chambers. “I’ll make sure nobody comes in here. Would you like me to stay or leave for now? I’m not very busy today, but there are some things I can do if you want some time to yourself.”

“Um, if you don’t mind,” Cloud fumbles, “Could I be alone for a bit?” Who the hell is she to ask Reale to leave her own bedroom? Gods, how selfish can she-

“Of course,” Reale smiles, her expression soft. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Okay,” Cloud replies. Reale leaves, closing the door lightly behind her. Cloud removes her belt, tightening the fabric one beneath it, and props her weapons against the wall. She drops onto the daybed beside the window and falls to her side, grabbing a pillow to cradle. She sobs silently, curled in a ball. In all the upheaval in her life recently, this much is familiar.

✦✦✦

"Have you found her yet?" Blaze questions the group of soldiers as they step into her office. She does not acknowledge them beyond that, continuing to write. After all, Cloud hasn’t been there all day to take part of the work, and her husband's useless as far as this is concerned.

"We have not, Your Majesty," the captain answers, holding a salute. Blaze's quill halts, raised just above the paper. A couple soldiers swallow, sweat on the backs of their necks.

"Then why," Blaze inquires, eyes sliding up to pierce the captain's; the man does his best not to flinch at the searing gaze. He’s mostly successful, "are you here?" 

“We have searched the castle high and low, multiple times,” the captain responds. “Along with the grounds and the woods. Some of us even went to check the lakeside. We have not found her. Your Majesty, the crown princess is not here.” What? A faint panic drips into Blaze’s head. Where else would she be? She’s never been into the city on her own before… She doesn’t even know about Tulip yet, so there’s no reason for her to leave. Unless she didn’t leave. Unless she was taken.

“Bring me the Colonel of the Yellow Jackets,” she orders. “Now.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” The captain obeys. As the guards leave, the queen shoves out of her chair to face the window, to face the city. Cloud better be safe, and for her sake, better have left the castle against her will. If she’s just having another one of her tantrums, there’s going to be hell to pay.

Come to think of it, wasn’t there a thunderstorm last night? Was that her? What happened? Whenever she causes a thunderstorm, she’s angry. She hasn’t been that uncontrollably angry in years, at least not openly. Maybe it’s a coincidence? After all, it had already been overcast that afternoon.

Blaze holds her clasped hands before her. Her fiery eyes narrow upon the city.

“Your Majesty,” a man greets moments later, “I was told you called for me.” Blaze does not turn to meet the man. 

“My daughter is missing,” she says. “She did not report to breakfast this morning and the castle guards have failed to find her. You know what to do.” The man in the yellow coat raises his eyebrows. “Discreetly, if possible,” the queen orders. “And when you find her-” her fists clench “-bring her to me.” He nods, saluting though she cannot see it.

“I will not fail you, Your Majesty,” he promises. Unlike those fools of a castle guard, his team is elite, reliable. 

“Dismissed,” she states. As the colonel takes his leave, Summer watches with a smirk. About time! It’s nearly nightfall. She shakes her head and knocks on her mother’s office door.

“Mother, it’s Summer,” she announces.

“Enter,” is the terse response. So, she does, to the sight of her mother casually filling out paperwork.

“I just saw Colonel Hunter leave,” she prompts. “Is everything alright?”

“If you must know,” the queen states curtly, “your sister has yet to be located. The normal guard has proven incompetent in the matter.” Summer hums in agreement.

“You know,” she offers, “I could find her for you. I know her better than some soldiers.” Summer stalks up to the desk. “I’d bet that I can find her first, actually.”

“This is not a game, Summer. There is no prize,” Blaze responds, clipped. Summer’s eyes flash at the familiar phrasing. Her smirk falls into a serious line.

“I will find her,” she claims instead, all humor brushed away. Blaze’s eyes flit to her briefly before returning to her work. 

“If you want to waste your time, that’s your call,” she allows. “But you’re still expected to complete your duties and studies.”

She stands a little taller. “Do I have your permission then?”

“Go ahead,” she permits. She doesn’t have time for all these interruptions.  “Just don’t go missing yourself.” Summer nods, turning on her heel to leave. Once the door’s shut behind her, she grits her teeth and clenches her fists. Always treated like she’s a nuisance—if she’d gone missing and Cloud offered to find her, Blaze would praise her for the initiative, or at least act like her efforts mattered. She’ll show her. Summer will show her mother that she picked the wrong favorite, that she should choose another heir, one who actually wants the throne. There are only so many places Cloud could be. She’ll check with Leo Martin first and go from there. She’ll find her sister. It is a game, and she’ll win. Just like she always does. Just because she’s failed to receive recognition so far does not mean she hasn’t been excelling at everything put before her. She’ll find Cloud. She will.