Cloud awakens to a gentle voice calling her title. She wrenches her eyes open and tilts her face toward the noise. Where Tulip used to stand is a girl, probably a couple years younger than herself. Something like relief washes over the girl. “Good, you’re awake!” She chirps. Cloud notes her hands balled in the apron above her skirt. “Your mother is requesting you for breakfast,” she explains. Her hair and eyes are nearly white, giving her a rather washed-out look when compared to the vividly colored people constantly surrounding Cloud. Even her skin is ivory. Cloud’s more used to that, though.

“We haven’t met,” Cloud murmurs, building the motivation she needs to sit up. 

“Oh! My apologies, Your Royal Highness,” she shrinks. “I’m your new lady-in-waiting.” It slaps Cloud across the face, deteriorating what strength she’d gathered. Still, this girl looks skittish, and she doesn’t deserve to have Cloud’s tantrum focused upon her.

“You’re from Frieden?” Cloud guesses, pinning the accent now that she’s a tad more alert.

“I-I am, yes,” she stammers. Odd choice on her mother's part, Cloud thinks. Why pull from a historically neutral country when you can pick someone from home or a friendly country?

“Your Frithian is good. I’m sorry, give me a moment,” Cloud requests, bringing her hands to scrub the sleep from her face. She realizes her mistake the same moment the girl fails to hide her sharp intake of breath. Cloud’s arms fall, leadened beside her. “I’m sorry,” she repeats. "Most people in the castle don’t know about these, but you’ll be helping me dress, so I suppose it was only a matter of time.” The girl stands, a statue. She could be marble. Cloud attempts a comforting smile, heavy like the rest of her body. “I’m still sleepy. I normally would’ve given you some warning. My apologies, truly."

“No! I mean, I’m sorry, you shouldn’t be sorry!” She sputters. “I should not have reacted like that. My sincerest apologies, Princess.” She bows, nearly a ninety-degree angle.

“Hey, it’s not the worst reaction I’ve gotten,” Cloud offers, rubbing her arms in a self-conscious manner. It's a low bar, but it’s not like this kid knows that. Olive's reaction was particularly wretched. Cloud counts down in her head before managing to pull herself upright. “I understand, it’s alright.” Cloud tugs her sleeves back down as she swings her legs over her bedside. In her defense, she didn’t think she’d live to have the scars. “Forget about it,” she brushes off as she pushes herself out of bed. The girl does not ask her how she got them, who did it, or how long ago, but she does ask:

“What would you like to wear today?” 

Breakfast is tense, but that’s not anything new. Everything is tense, all the time, every day. Cloud can only imagine it’ll get worse if her mother is stressed by a rebellion. She’ll have to grin and bear it. It won’t be anything too different.

✦✦✦

Gushiken addresses the entire room: “This is the moment we have been awaiting.” The small gathering gazes upon the decorated map upon the table. Exhaustion creeps at the edge of all their faces, but it’s paired with the satisfaction of a successful meeting coming to a close. “The catalyst: Trinity Citadel.” Gushiken grins, placing his hand over the heart of the city’s fortress. There, Lieutenant General Ale Strong will die, and Commander-in-chief Sake Gushiken will rise from his ashes. “Finally.” he straightens, standing at the head of the table. He declares, “Unto the revolution.”