Chapter 15

The past few days in Richard's company were spent feeling as if she was in agony. Mary couldn't look in his direction or even bear to spend another moment with him. It did not even help that Lady Blanche was also in constant attendance, watching Richard's every move as if she was a man thirsting for more wine than is healthy.

She opted instead to spend more time with Anthony or tending to the young princesses, who were growing more and more in the likeness of their mother, beautiful and confident. Anthony did not begin to question as to the reason why she was choosing to spend more time in his company, only ecstatic that he would be graced with more of her presence. From day til night, Mary could only pester Anthony, asking to assist him in paperwork or to accompany him as he goes riding and reviewing the army resources.

Despite the jouissant sentiments that filled him in his sister's presence, he was still prone to worry about her. It had come to his attention how she had overworked herself, voicing his concern during a particularly long ride. "Dear sister, you must rest. I have not seen you in a moment of repose since time immemorial." He jested as he cantered his horse towards her in a moment's pause.

She reared her horse back to him, reins hanging loosely in her hands. Her steed was now covered in a blanket reminiscent of pale snow, embroidered at the hems with scenes of riding parties. It had been generously acquired by Anthony to shield her from the vision that triggers her nightmares. "I should not think you would have. I would prefer to be kept busy than to think about the engagement that could happen." Mary replied, voice cool. "Do you not think so, Anthony?"

Anthony clucked at that and his expression turned into that of dismay. He replied, ignoring her question, "I meant that you have not been yourself for quite some time."

"I do not think I should be, having to be sold off to a stranger, whose stories make him out to be a monster, like I am chattel." Mary mused darkly, her gaze somewhat accusing.

That signalled the end of that sensitive topic.

Richard was beginning to become suspicious of Mary's efforts to avoid him, feeling sickeningly deprived of her company. She no longer glances in his direction, no longer greets him; she does not even take her meals with him anymore! He had thought they had already overcome this wall of awkwardness, instead it had suddenly materialised into something that he had no clue as to how it had formed, much less how to tackle.

It had become so overwhelming that he could no longer fight the urge to corner her in the corridor, as she flew past servants and courtiers alike, white cloak with pale fur trimmings flying behind her like she was an angel that had descended from the heavens and the wreath of plaits that gathered underneath a simple net on the top of her crown resembled a halo in the scintillating sunlight. Her arrival had been timely because he had escaped from a very frustrating meeting that day, his courage had not been lost on him yet. Adrenaline had permeated every cell in his body and they were not leaving his system anytime soon. He could feel it burning fervently and fast, and it was demanding to be satisfied immediately.

The sight of her had been the catalyst to the sudden spike in his temper towards her.

Heavy steps towards her direction were undeterred and she could not avoid them, not even if she tried. His dark gaze remained firmly upon her, frightening any living soul away from his warpath. Her head had finally looked up to him as she came to realise the footsteps were in fact headed in her direction.

Grabbing her wrist, he dragged her towards the opposite direction of her intent back to his study, where he knew he would be able to have a clearer mind (and have less of an audience).

"Richard! Let go of me this instant." She growled in her surprise and indignation at having to be dragged off. "I do not appreciate having to be handled so roughly by a man, by a man whom I considered one of my dearest family above all." She struggled against his grasp, her steps stilted by the heavy drapes of her kirtle and her own unyielding resistance against his pull.

He remained silent, but his wrath continued to ebulliate underneath his cool exterior. His toes curled inside his boots. The purse tucked at his side kept bouncing up and down, causing the gold coins inside it to jingle madly. His grip on her tightened, sure to leave bruises on her wrist. She'd never seen Richard in such a state before.

"Richard, did you not hear me?" She fought against him, nails viciously grabbing and clawing at any available surface to cease her futile struggles. "What has gotten into you, Richard? I insist you let go of me!"

Her breath was already laboured and quick, cheeks hot with effort. As she continued to resist, the grasp of his fingers coiled themselves tighter around her wrist, sure to leave imprints under the thick, woolen sleeve. He heard her hiss, beneath all the whimpers and whines that she had been producing. When she thought that they had already stopped, another corner had been turned. The journey had been an endless endurance of twirling corridors. When they had at last arrived at the destination of Richard's desire, he shoved the oaken door open in a violent manner reminiscent of the barbarians of old and hurled Mary into the room, before barring the door shut with a resounding bang.

"What is the meaning of this Richard? Taking me against my will and barring me in your quarters without my permission and- may I remind you!- without a chaperone." Mary huffed, fuming and frighteningly vexed. "Do you seek to ruin my reputation, thereby destroying my marriageable value and further earn my eternal wrath and hate?" Her brows were scrunched tightly together and her gaze afire.

"I feel as if I had already earned your sempiternal hate, considering the silence that I am being subjected to in your company and that you have been constantly avoiding my presence." Richard confessed in a tone of steel, sliding painfully clean from between his teeth. He directed his gaze towards her unkempt form, him having been the primary cause of such a dishevelled appearance. "I do not think I have done something so outrageously terrible that I am warranted your unfavourable treatment."

"If anything, you might as well have earned that long lasting hate, given what you have just forced me to endure." She pointed out, her words dripping with acid that have not yet proved corrosive. Mary's eyebrows arched in disbelief. "What makes you think that you had done something to me? What if I had just received more duties than is proper?"

"It does not explain why you no longer sit by my side at mealtimes." He countered, reluctant to let her escape his questioning.

"I think it justifies it," She cried, indignant that he would question her. "If you had cared to ask, my sister has been more demanding than ever. I hardly have time to myself and I barely see anyone else, save the princesses and my brother Anthony, who I assist in the running of our estates." Mary replied, voice bordering on a shout.

Richard sneered at her, making his way to the fireplace that burned and crackled quietly in the edge of the room, a silent witness to the row between himself and Mary. "Do you know? I do not believe that your brother had willingly requested that you aid him in the management of his estates." He turned back to her, as she stood frozen in the center of the chamber, feeling as if she had been cleverly ambuscaded. "I have a theory, if you would care to hear it."

"Pray tell, continue, as if I had chosen to be here. I have got no other choice other than to hear it." Mary said snidely, playing with the fur trimming at her wrists.

"I think that you have been deliberately avoiding my presence, for what reason, I have yet to find out." Richard reasoned, muttering almost to himself. His hands were behind his back and eyes half-shut in thought. The floor squeaked underneath him as he paced uncontrollably, unable to seek respite in the wild churnings of his speculation and Mary could only watch him, worried that he might unravel what she did not want him to know. "I am of the opinion that it was you, Mary, who orchestrated your support of the estate matters and that it was you who had requested of the Queen that you spend more time with the princesses."

At the accusation, Mary laughed aloud, a sharp piercing sound that confounded Richard at its suddenness. "And how do you intend to make this theory into flesh?"

His eyebrows raised, taciturnly impudent. "I can drag you once more to the destination of my wish and demand Her Grace and your brother to support or contradict your claims, do not think to presume that I would not dare. You know me well enough that I could do so to achieve the goal I must."

"And what do you aspire to achieve that you would inflict near bodily harm to me?" Mary enunciated with clear venom in her words.

He sighed, as he understood that she did not get his meaning. "I do not wish any harm to befall you, Ma-"

"But you had done so to bring me into this meaningless conversation!" She raged. She spied his lips as they began to open in defense. "And do not deny it, I have bruises to show for it." She strode swiftly to where Richard was situated and shoved her sleeve up her arm, showcasing the deep violet and amber blotches that decorated her porcelain skin like unwashed paint.

At that sight, Richard's eyes widened, both in surprise and grief at what he had unknowingly inflicted on her. "I-I-I had done this t-to you?" He stuttered, almost incoherent in his shock. His fingers brushed against the damage done, reluctant to accept that he could do this to his most beloved friend.

"Yes, Richard." Mary affirmed, a crack in her voice at the distress felt in this situation. He fell to his knees, eyes misty at what he had done.

"I am sorry." He whispered, silently agonised. Squeezing his eyes shut, he felt the shameful sensations tingling all over his body. Remorse was tattooed across his youthful, war-worn features. "I am truly, truly sorry."

"Well," Mary felt her defenses deteriorating at the sight of a broken Richard on his knees, using her other hand to wipe away the lone tears that have sprung from her eyes. "I have hope it will no longer occur. I regard you too dearly as a friend to excommunicate you from my life."

At that, he dropped his head and shook it slowly, hiding the tears that had escaped. "I do not know how you can easily grant me your forgiveness, Mary." He looked up to her, bags of tears heavily hanging at his eyelashes. He gave a heavy sniffle before further speaking. "It is absolute folly, dearest friend."

"Why should it be foolishness to forgive a dear friend for an act that they so clearly condemn themselves for?" She felt thoroughly affronted at Richard's reprimanding of her pardon of him. "I don't understand you!"

At that, Richard rose abruptly, eyes (though still teary) ablaze with a cold flame. "As I do you." He gritted. "Why do you avoid me? Have I done something dreadful to you without noticing it? Or has someone bribed or threatened or ordered you to keep your distance from me?" He scoffed at the last speculation. "Not that you would follow that order, knowing the personality you possess. You are too headstrong for that."

Clenching of fists at her side, Mary tried to restrain her temper. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to succumb to the temptation to cry further. "Why must you keep me in here, like a prisoner and interrogate me? I've done nothing wrong!" She declared, firmly. "It is no longer your concern that I avoid you, if that is even true." She hastily added.

"So," He uttered softly, the gravelly voice a powerful hit to her emotions. "I have been the fool. It seems I matter no longer to you." Opening her eyes, she saw him cloaked in the shadows, nodding his head in comprehension.

That was distressful for Mary to hear, a false phrase that sent her over the cliff. A loud smack was heard echoing across the chamber as Mary struck him with all her might. "You do not know of what you speak, Richard." She whispered, as if her corset had been tightened to the point that no breath could enter her.

The tears did not ebb, rather they began to fall in copious amounts as she made her escape from that stifling quarter.

Richard…

Mary clenched her fists in an effort to staunch the tears that were sure to follow after a disastrous confrontation on Richard's part. She almost wished that Anne could come and vigorously distract her from evil thoughts that she might helplessly entertain and revel in. Good Lord, she could almost tolerate Lady Blanche at this point.

She must have scowled at every servant she had encountered or, at least, looked like a marble statue that no one would want to possess because of the ghastly expression she wore. Only one person, it seemed, was not to be intimidated by her today. "My Lady," Mary's vision focused on a somewhat unfamiliar figure.

"Oh, Lucy." She recognised the older woman's wimple with no trace of a wisp of hair and her monotone clothing of greys and whites. Despite her time spent with the woman, Mary could not bring herself to fully adjust to the woman who had replaced a faithful subject. There was something about her that unsettled her immensely, and it wasn't about her somewhat unapproachable demeanour.

"Her Majesty is requesting your presence in her chambers." She had informed Mary in a bland tone, causing her to cringe inwardly, ultimately ceasing the flow of tears. "She has said that it was of the most urgent nature."

"Did she mention what it had concerned?"

Lucy shook her head, slight turns to indicate negative. "Only that she requires your presence."

Mary became thoughtful and slightly suspicious. "Who else has been summoned?"

"I have not been given permission to say, my lady." There, Mary felt that no concessions could be made from this woman. She was a staunch supporter of the crown and not of the mistress she serves. A spy, if she could gamble any of the crown jewels.

Mary sighed softly, resolve hardening. "Lead the way then."

She was led into her sister's sitting room and found when she had entered, the room was dark except for the fireplace.

With the windows barred and curtained, the chambers felt warm and peculiarly cosy, something she would have never really considered a chamber to be in the depths of winter. The heating felt sublime at such a harsh time, Mary felt a smile stretch across her face.

"Ah, Mary! I was wondering how long it would take for your lady's maid to find you, I've been sending for you for hours." Elizabeth greeted coquettishly as she fingered the cord of the necklace she wore.

Distracted, Mary undid the ties of her cloak and hung it over a nearby chair, the white of her cloak dancing with grey flares and lights akin to a stained glass window from the fire. "She might not have been looking hard enough. I was where anyone could see me." She replied back, unwilling to bait Elizabeth into her whirlwind of questioning.

Signalling for Mary to take a seat in a cluster of chairs by the fireplace, Elizabeth poured three goblets of small ale and brought two of them to the fireplace, depositing one of them into Mary's hands. Seeing the one left behind, Mary took a sip of hers before questioning her sister. "Who is that for?"

Elizabeth did not answer. Rather she didn't need to. The chamber door opening up and squeaking as it did so answered her question for her.

"Edward!"

Mary felt her heart stop in fear. She pursed her lips and felt her eyes widen, feeling cornered and terrified of what could happen to her. But Elizabeth is here, he would not dare try to do anything to me whilst in her presence. A niggling voice though whispered what she continued to fear, it did not stop him last time, in the same castle as she had been in.

She had been so caught up in her own imaginings, that she did not notice that Edward and Elizabeth were already speaking of whatever it is that they have summoned her for. Blinking herself out of her reveries, she interrupted what Edward had been saying. "Pardon me, but could you repeat yourselves again?" She uttered in a small voice, not wanting to provoke either of their ires.

"Your betrothal to Edward of Westminster has been approved and is almost complete, the woman who calls herself Queen Margaret though will make it official when you arrive there in person." Edward explained.

"Why would she need me to be there? There have been betrothals and marriages made with proxies. Why would she ask this?" Mary wondered aloud, fingers knotting together under her skirts' pleats of yellow wool.

"She wants to make sure that you are as we say: healthy, virginal and beautiful." Mary's stomach lurched at the description the King replied to her in front of her own sister. She could feel the glares targetted at her hit her with a strong force. "She does not trust us not to deceive her, that you may be riddled with pockmarks and some imaginary illness she has conjured up in her mind. Of course, it is also to see if you are to Edward of Westminster's liking. My spies tell me he is under his mother's thumb, but a man may change his mind otherwise." He smiled to himself.

"So when will I sail?" Mary asked in a surprisingly calm voice, the turmoil within her agitating her thoughts.

The woman, the woman she always saw, she's back in her mind. Her voice pervaded her thoughts, Whatever you choose to do now, your path will neither stray nor change.

"When she deems the time is right. Who knows what it is that is going in the French's minds." Elizabeth said, trying to take control of the room.

You are to be put on the altar beside Edward of Westminster.

She sucked in a breath, trying to reign in her thoughts, however rattled they were.

...your path will neither stray nor change…

...you...on the altar beside Edward of Westminster…

...neither stray nor change…

...altar beside Edward of Westminster…

She felt like she was being suffocated, but she knew she had no true choice in the matter. This was for the security of the family and she had to step up and take responsibility. "May I be excused? Or is there something else I am needed for?" Her voice might as well be quivering at the thoughts that ran through her head, but she forced herself to steel her voice.

"No, you may go." Elizabeth said as she brought her wine to her lips and Edward brought her hand to his own lips.

With a flourish, Mary swept her coat of cream across her shoulders and began to make her way out of the chambers. Before she opened the chamber door though, Elizabeth stopped her. "Do not forget, dear sister. Your wardrobe must be added to, to fit a daughter of nobility when you are presented to Edward of Westminster and that She-Wolf. We'll have you fitted in a sennight, perhaps. Just be ready when I summon you for them."

And her heart was snatched from her chest.

"The food is filling, the music pleasing and the wine flowing endlessly. I am enjoying this night immensely."

That had been one of the conversational lines that Mary had snatched from the pair of ladies sitting some seats down from her. She had to agree with them on one account: the wine was flowing endlessly. It was relieving, to say the least. The sweet tartness of the wine kept her from thinking too much, it felt absolutely liberating and sinfully intoxicating.

The crimson beverage made its way constantly to the goblet perched precariously on her fingers, continuously being refilled by the servants who were unfortunate enough to pass by her place at the table. Lady Anne, who had been seated in front of her, was snacking on some of the dried peaches that had been displayed before her. The Lady had been vaguely aware of the copious cups of wine that Mary had been ingesting and had the good sense to turn to Anthony when it had become alarmingly clear that she would not stop consuming the drink.

"Lord Rivers, I do not mean to disturb and impose upon you." She had demurred, but her panic was quickly becoming clear. "But Lady Mary has been a concern of mine for the last hour, she has been drinking wine without having touched her meal. The servants have refilled it so many times I've lost count. I would try to tell her to stop, but I would not dare to be so presumptuous as to take my advice to not be drunk."

Anthony's eyes grew wide at the thought that Mary was drinking herself under the table. It was a wildly preposterous idea, one that would never be thought synonymous with his sister's personality. Nonetheless, he rushed to her side, distressed at the mood she was in that coerced her into such an uncharacteristic action.

"Mary dear, what has happened? How much have you drunk?" Anthony asked her, his hands brushing away the lively tendrils of hair that were escaping from her updo.

She gave him a slight smile, the ends of her lips curling slightly as if they only half-remembered how to do their job. "Anthony!" Mary squealed, though slurring a little as is the usual speech impediment of a drunk. "The wine this supper has been beyond excellent, truly magnificent. The brewers have outdone themselves." She giggled to herself, eyes half closed and searching for sleep.

Anthony sighed deeply, both perturbed and irked at this sudden change in Mary. "Dearest, I need to help you get to your chambers and you must retire now." He murmured to her gently, though how she would be able to hear him was questionable given the sudden crescendo in the music and the rise in the courtiers' chatter.

"Why?" It wasn't a whine exactly, more a confused response. "I haven't finished my supper and the dancing hasn't even begun yet, and I wished to dance with you!"

"Dearest, supper's been finished quite some time ago and dancing is about to begin, just without you. You are in no state to move about. You'll be a hazard to anyone who dares walk on the dance floor. There's always the next one, dearest. You need to retire."

Mary shrugged, defeated and Anthony lifted her up from her place at the table and whisked her away for her rest. As he did so, little Anne Neville continued to watch them as they stepped away from the chaos of the hall and wished that someone would love her as much as Anthony did his sister.

As Anthony began to gain some distance from the noise of the hall, Mary began to regain some form of awareness. "Anthony, I think I can walk." She whispered, even in her drunken state, embarrassed at what she had subjected herself to and knew that she was going to regret what she had thoughtlessly done immensely on the morrow.

With a sigh, he let down Mary tenderly to the cold, stone floors and walked slowly by her side, pushing her gently if she began to lean his way so that she stays upright.

"Mary, what is it that had driven you to drown yourself in all the wine you could acquire?" Anthony prodded softly, anxious to know. "Is it because of Lizzie? Or is it because of Richard?"

As if a spell had been casted, Richard appeared from an adjoining corridor, on his way to the hall. His head had been downcast and he was focused on fixing one of his tight cuffs. When Mary had spotted him from round the corner, she froze, letting her be left behind by Anthony. "Mary?"

The utterance of her name caught Richard's attention. "Mary?" He called to her. She would not move, her face passive and stony. Anthony looked back to Richard and realising that Richard was the reason for Mary's state sent his temper alight with fire. With heat in his steps, Anthony began to stalk towards Richard in fury.

"Look what you've driven my sister to!" Anthony growled, a sound so dreadfully animalistic yet painfully human. Before Anthony could grapple Richard's throat (oh, how he longed to let him suffer for his sister's despair), Mary cried out for him to stop.

"Anthony, don't!"

His fingers were left clenching at strands of air, leaving him unsatisfied. But who is he to deny the whims of his most beloved sister?

"This is between Richard and I."

She uttered this unwaveringly, but Anthony could see her hands were shaking at her sides. He tried to protest but she shut him out. This was her fight apparently, not his. And he knew she didn't like it if he tried to fight her battles for her, not while she could handle it.

Who is he to deny the whims of his most beloved?

"Say whatever it is you need to say Richard and I'll be on my way. My brother is quite insistent that I retire as soon as I can." Mary voiced out to Richard in an eerily calm voice, despite her own intoxication. Though her senses earlier were dulled and softened by the drink, Richard's presence shot through her like an arrow would, awakening them so intensely that she could do nothing but be forced to stay awake.

They were standing in a garden of vines, all creeping their way towards the waning moon. It was unusually dark, except for a few sparse and dying fires that were put in the gardens. They were alone except for the towering bushes, which rustled as a light wind blew through the empty yard.

"What would you like me to say?" Richard asked calmly, watching her face for signs that may indicate something of value to him. His hands were clasped behind him as he stood in place. His lack of agitation drove Mary into the arms of fury.

"What in God's name are you asking me that for?" Mary cried out in shock. "You drag me out here and deprive me of my brother's company-"

"You sent him away." Richard corrected pointedly, his brow arched in a challenge, which Mary waved away.

"-And you ask me what I want you to say?" Mary's eyes seethed and drew themselves into slits as she eyed him. "Why don't you ask Lady Blanche instead, hmm? Ask what she thinks, since her opinion means so much to you, doesn't it?" She spat her questions with venom, a cool poison lacing her every word.

At that, Richard spluttered. "I never said anything of that nature in the entirety of my life! I have never given any indication that I valued Lady Blanche's council nor have I given her any leave to speak opinions that I approve of in my presence, what on earth gave you that impression?" He was stunned, outrageously so.

"You dance with her-"

"Unwillingly, I might add."

"You wanted her to accompany us on your summer tour-"

"Which you had indicated, not I!"

"She wants to marry you!"

"Doesn't mean I want to marry her!"

They were left breathless in both exasperation and anger. Richard, tired from the assumptions Mary was running on, pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes in frustration and began to pace in the frosted grass.

"I do not value Lady Blanche as much as you claim I do. She is a courtier who I must respect to keep her supporting Edward and someone who is valuable as she is Warwick's relation." He stated outrightly. "And if you think I want to marry her or even had the slightest desire to do so, you are unfortunately mistaken. Her fortune may entice Edward to arrange something of that nature between us, but ultimately, I have no wish to enter into any agreement of that sort with her."

Mary's brows scrunched together in bewilderment. "Then why would she admit such a wish to me?"

"I suspect because she is aware of something I keep secret which is largely unknown to you. She wishes to stoke the fire." Richard began to pace more vigorously, obviously agitated by his thoughts.

"And what would that be?"

He stopped abruptly and his eyes swerved and found hers so quickly, she felt herself lost for air. His gaze was magnetic, she couldn't look away. "You truly do not know? How could you not know?"

"Know what?"

"What do you think?" He wore a slight smile and his eyes were alight with something new yet familiar. He clasped her hand within the embrace of his own, cradling it close to his heart. "I think," He spoke softly in deep tones, his eyes downcast whilst she was trying to search them for any indication of what he might be referring to. "I think you've always known. You've done with me and my life as you pleased, but you were never intentionally cruel nor did you maliciously try and take advantage of my position or I."

"Why?" Mary felt her heart stuttering, a plethora of emotions swirling in the depths of her stomach. "Why would you let me do that?"

He continued as if he hadn't heard her, though his tone certainly rung coyly in her ears. "My childhood was hectic, rife with tragedies and changes that I couldn't comprehend, at least not then. When everything had settled, at least with a modicum of what was to be normality, I felt joyous at our victory but a little lost. I didn't understand what my place was to be in the tapestry of power. Everyone wants a part of me, to curry favour from the King or they are expecting me to be like George, easy to manipulate and corrupt." He looked up to her. "But with you, I felt like I didn't need to understand my place nor did I need to try and grasp the power that George craves. I felt secure in your company, I felt like I could be myself without the pretense of courtly life or lust for glory. I have no need for excitement, you know my passion lies elsewhere. I feel utterly complete and content with you and no one else has come close in giving me that pleasure."

She felt her mouth dry at his declaration. She had an idea at what he was trying to relay to her, but she had to be certain. She couldn't risk her heart being shattered at something that wasn't real. "What are you trying to say?"

"Let's put it like this:" He answered instead, her heart still palpitating vigorously as he delayed his response. "All those months ago, when you had been attacked by a boar and clutched me to your side, you asked me a question at your sick bed. Do you remember it?"

A flash of sable fur and a white lady dressed in pure starlight danced in her memories. "I think so."

As she continued to look up to him, she saw something move at the corner of her eye. Mary turned her head slightly to catch a glimpse of what had caused the movement. Nothing there.

"You had asked me if I would be an oppressive figure in my marriage." At the widening of her eyes, he chuckled. "You'll be surprised at how long I've pondered over that question, it plays constantly in my head. But for you, I think I have an answer."

A bush rustled and Mary's eyes searched blindly in the dark to find what it was that caused it. Still nothing appeared untoward.

"What is it? That your wife will forever be bored to death because of how much you'll love to spoil her that she'll never have to lift another finger?" Mary teased lightly, though her heartbeat resounded so loudly in her ears, she feared Richard could hear it.

"I hope not. She'll do some work of course, looking after me would take a lot of time and arduous effort on her part. I cannot promise that she'll ever feel the coronation furs be draped on her or that she'll ever wear a crown, but this I solemnly promise," He tucked her hands deeper into his chest and looked her in the eye as fear and hope shone from them like crepuscular skies, "I will be a true husband because I love you."

And the heart that had been snatched from her chest earlier was lovingly put back where it belonged and for a moment, everything seemed right.

A/N: Hey guys, this chapter was loooong overdue. Stuff got in the way and then my muse ran away from me. It's been a year since I updated, which is kind of mind-boggling. I just wanted to thank you all for your support and your reviews, even if I had stepped away from writing for awhile. It was a sincere pleasure to read them, they gave me a lot of motivation to finish this chapter for y'all!

What do you guys think was rustling the bushes? What are your thoughts on the chapters to come? Leave a review, I'd love to hear your thoughts on what you think is going to happen next!

I hope that you are all safe and healthy in this very trying time. Please continue to observe social distancing, if you're out and about. I hope that this nightmare ends soon and that we can all resume our lives with a better perspective on how to reform our society.

Cheers, Nemo

P.S. If you are interested in beta'ing my work, please send me a PM. Thanks!