The rest of the dinner had passed without further incident. Her new family, particularly Laurence, seemed very understanding of her memory, or lack-there-of, and kept up an easy conversation amongst themselves without much need for Blair’s input. Blair kicked off her boots and sat down on her unmade bed as she thought about Shawn. He seemed kind, but Blair could tell by the way he had looked at her that something else was there.

“Cleo?” Blair called.

Like a mist, Cleo’s form faded into view, her blue eyes only opening once Blair couldn’t see the other side of her room through her anymore.

“Did you need something?”

Blair looked Cleo up and down again. She hadn’t noticed before, but she was in a stark white fencing uniform, only missing her helmet. “Can you tell me more about Sh– about Sir Shawn?”

Cleo grimaced and clicked her tongue. Cleo made it clear, be it with the expression she had, the way her arms crossed over her chest, or her tone of voice, she didn’t like Shawn. “He’s my… well I guess your boss now. He’s the first son of Count Wirst… You can call him Commander Wirst at work.”

Blair leaned back on the heels of her hands, “he seemed close with Laurence.”

“Apparently they studied swordsmanship together,” Cleo shrugged.

“You know he uh… well… the way he looked at me–”

“I know.”

“You know?” Blair’s eyes widened.

Cleo rolled her eyes and shifted her weight, uncrossing her arms as she spoke with her hands, “he makes it so obvious! How would I not know?” She sighed and clicked her tongue. “I understand that it’s your body now but I would prefer you didn’t… act on his feelings.”

Blair nodded silently. “I won’t but, Cleo, can you tell me more about why? Is he a bad person or…?”

Cleo sighed and shook her head as she sat down next to Blair. The bed didn’t move. “I wouldn’t call him bad. He’s just… other people already think I got into the first order because him and I…” Cleo grit her teeth, “I don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t know, or if he does and thinks that bringing it up will make it worse, but he doesn’t always intervene when the second order would start fights with me.”

“Would you have liked him if none of that was the case?”

Cleo scoffed, “God no. I could tell he liked me when we first met. He’s Laurence’s age y’know? I thought it was weird for a twenty-two year old to be interested in a fifteen year old.” Cleo pursed her lips, “I’m sure that kind of thing isn’t weird in this world but…”

“I understand,” Blair said as she placed a hand on Cleo’s shoulder, it felt like resting her hand on something invisible, a force you could only feel through something like gravity and no other way. “Should I be worried about anything else? I’m going to visit the Knights tomorrow and I’ll be meeting Duke Bell the day after.”

Cleo smiled at her, it was awkward and sloppy but it was the first smile she had shown since Blair had met her and she was grateful for it. Cleo then proceeded to tell Blair about the first order of the Wirst knights. There was Sir Eric Jaune, the vice-captain of the first order who was polite but wasn’t fond of Cleo. Apparently it was because he didn’t like Laurence, but he ended up giving a fair amount of menial tasks to Cleo, one of which led to her saving Duke Bell. Cleo also mentioned two knights she was close with, Sir James Reid and Dame Alina Riley. They had become friends because Cleo happened to catch them using an empty alley to suck face instead of patrolling the town. Since then the two often secretly helped her with a few of the menial tasks Eric would assign to her.

“Wouldn’t they get punished for that?”

Cleo laughed, “they got caught a few times. I eventually had to tell them that I wasn’t planning on telling anyone about their relationship. We ended up hanging out a lot after that.”

“Thanks,” Blair said suddenly, “for telling me everything. I know you said I would remember in my dreams but it still helps. Just because I’ll remember what happened doesn’t mean I’ll remember how you felt about it.”

Cleo looked surprised but thankful as she smiled and said, “call me whenever you need me.”

And faster than Blair could blink, she was gone. It was a strange feeling, watching a person disappear before your eyes. In a way, it made Blair feel a sad sense of longing. She knew Cleo would still be there if she needed her, but she felt like she was relying on a ghost that couldn’t move on because of her. 

Blair glanced over at her dresser, the small hand mirror still sat there, taunting her. She was ready for it this time. At least she hoped she was. She stood from the bed and walked over to the dresser, picking up the mirror. For what felt like much longer than necessary, Blair simply studied the back of it. It was heavier than she expected it to be, made of solid metal that looked like it was starting to rust with age around the simplistic molding around its edges. Aside from the few decorative swoops in the metal it was very simple looking. 

Blair held her breath as she turned over the mirror. The person who looked back at her had an angular face framed by wavy ash blonde hair, just the same color that she had seen on Amenna only without the gray. Her warm brown eyes were narrow in a way that suited her face and were framed by dark brown lashes and thick brows. Still holding her breath, Blair barred her teeth at the reflection, revealing slightly crooked teeth with sharp canines. 

Nothing was the same. Her large green eyes didn’t stare back at her anymore, her short, choppy brown hair didn’t hang across her face, blocking her vision and covering her sparse brows and round face full of freckles. The only saving grace was the single beauty mark this person had under her eye, but it only mocked Blair more. As if it was the last remaining freckle after the rest had been wiped clean from her face.

Blair let out a ragged breath as she frowned, her new face matching the expression with its thin lips. She felt nauseous all at once, throwing the mirror down and bolting out of her room to the door across the hall, the bathroom that Laurence had graciously shown to her after dinner. She threw the door open and slammed it shut behind her, making the walls shake, only managing to make it to the sink before the not-minestrone clawed its way out of her stomach. Before she could even think about wiping her mouth another wave hit her, more violent than the first. 

After what felt like an eternity, the waves finally stopped. Shakily, Blair turned the tap of the sink and started rinsing out her mouth, watching the last few bits of digested soup flush their way down the drain. When she finally felt satisfied, she slowly collapsed onto the bathroom floor, letting her hands and cheeks feel the cool tile beneath them as her eyelids felt heavy with exhaustion.