Octavia picked up her last belonging, her heart growing heavy. Outside her window, Hedalda was awash in spring. New leaves burst from once frozen branches and grass and wildflowers crawled up from the earth, invigorated by the warm days and nighttime downpours. The air smelt crisp and new and only carried the faintest chill—winter's farewell. And hers too.

She turned the card over in her hands, traced her fingers over the names of all the children beneath the colourful Welcome Miss Octavia. She'd miss the rambunctious little gaggle of them, but there were other places that needed her. She tucked the card away with her books and latched the trunk close. One more village saved. One more battle won.

A knock on her room door pulled her from her thoughts. Claud stood in the hall with a box held aloft like a server's tray. "Glad I caught you. Couldn't let you leave without this." He presented the box as though he was serving hor'dourves and lifted the lid with a flourish.

Red lace and heavy black fabric sat folded inside. The dress. Her dress. She wanted to clutch it to her chest and jump up and down like a giddy child. She hadn't seen it since the night of the ball and assumed the Council had burned it. "Thank you Claud. I hope I'll get the chance to wear it again." Fighting the netherborne didn't allow for much merriment.

"Even if you don't, take it as a token of good faith. Good luck out there."

"You won't be here much longer either, hm?"

He leaned against the door frame. "I received a letter from Quintus last night. He's making arrangements for me to go to the archives. Apparently there is a lot of rigmarole involved."

"Indeed. We're very wary of outsiders. But with Quintus' blessing you should be able to get there without too much hassle." So long as he kept quiet and did as he was told, he'd make it into the archives with his head intact.

"Good to know." He tilted his head and looked past her. "Need some help getting your things downstairs?"

"Please."

Claud took her trunks while she grabbed her bag and parasol. Villagers were up and down the corridors, carrying everything from bedding to shelves as they made last-minute preparations to welcome Hedalda's first refugees.

Beatrix had spoken animatedly about the day's plans at their meeting last night. A welcome reception at the hall, then the new residents would be given time to rest and acclimate before a bonfire at the Cathedral that night. Resources were flowing in from Avaly and more would arrive from the southern nations in the coming weeks. Hedalda was on its way to prosperity.

And Octavia wouldn't be there for any of it. She'd stayed in this place far longer than she should have. With the netherborne gone and the framework established for Hedalda to become a haven, she wasn't needed anymore.

A carriage awaited her on the Cathedral's front lawn, along with half the village. They clapped and cheered as she passed through, screaming their gratitude, farewells and well wishes. Octavia gave them coy waves and thanks as she passed through.

Beatrix met her halfway with Winslet at her side. "I have something for you, a token of our thanks." From her pocket, she produced a small gold pin, fashioned in the shape of a lily, with a single sapphire on its stem. "The Gilded Lily. In a time before the scourge it was our village's highest honour. This is the last one. Take it with Hedalda's blessing and know that you'll always have allies here." She secured the pin on Octavia lapel. "Godspeed Octavia."

"Thank you." She put a hand over the pin. "I'll take good care of it. And good luck to you all too." As she continued through the crowd, the kids stepped into her path, blocking her way to the carriage.

"You can't go without saying goodbye to us too," Lyra said.

"I didn't plan to." She ruffled the girl's dreadlocks. "Be good for Miss Winslet, all right?"

"Can't you stay a little longer?" Tallis asked.

Octavia shook her head. "There are other places and people out there who need my help. But I need a huge favour from all of you before I go."

They looked at her with wide eager eyes.

"Promise me you'll be nice to all the little boys and girls coming here to stay. They don't have homes, and some of them don't have families. I'm counting on you all to make them feel welcomed here. Can you do that for me?"

"We'll do it," Lyra said. "Right everyone?"

Tallis rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know..."

"Come on, Tallis." She stomped her feet on the last word and stared him down.

"All right. All right. I'll do it."

Octavia breathed a laugh. "That's what I like to hear. Now can I get a hug?"

They surrounded her, each giving her a hug in turn, saying their goodbyes and we'll miss yous. Of all the ragtag groups of youth she'd taught in her years, she'd met none as selfless as them. They were worth every second of jail time and every moment of frustration.

Octavia moved past them to the carriage, where Claud was loading her things inside. Sicero leaned against the back arms folded and eyes on his boots. He hadn't cut his hair in a while, and the wanton curls hung forward, framing his face.

Claud glanced back and forth between them. "I'll give you two some privacy."

Octavia set her bag inside and put her parasol up, holding it over both their heads. The floral black lace and the red ribbon blocked out the cloud-dotted sky. The chatter of the villagers faded into the background, leaving them standing in their bubble of unsaid words.

In the weeks since the departure of the priests they'd fallen into a routine where they'd see each other more often than not. He'd greet her out in the hall in the mornings and they'd walk to the kitchen together. Then they'd part ways until the evening, when they'd have supper. He'd tell her about all the projects the Council had planned for the coming weeks, months and years, and she'd talk about her progress with contacting the other havens. This was the first morning the routine had broken, and perhaps it was for the best.

"Where will you go?" Sicero asked, finally looking up at her. His eyes were cast in shadow and his jaw set.

"Wherever I am needed." She took his hand, laced her fingers between his. They both knew whatever budded between them couldn't blossom, much less flourish, but for the time she was in Hedalda, it was nice having him at her side. To talk to, to vent to. To share her fears and worries and dreams with. The reality of not having that anymore cut deep into her, making her wince.

They stayed quiet, neither wanting to say the painful goodbye. The word held too much finality, too much uncertainty. It didn't make any promises of future reunions. Perhaps she should have disappeared in the dead of night and saved them both the agony of goodbye.

Sicero wrapped his free hand around hers so they were both holding the parasol and gently coaxed her forward until their bodies were nigh touching. His spicy scent enveloped her, eclipsing the fresh spring air.

This time, she didn't push him away. She couldn't.

His lips captured hers, soft and sweet as ripe fruit, but slow and languid as a lazy wave caressing the shore. And, in that moment, they became spring – she the gentle rain and he the warm earth. The world blossomed and burst with heady ecstasy, and everything around them was beautiful and wonderful and new. And when they parted, the haze of euphoria cleared, leaving behind the cold and bitter reality that spring didn't last forever.

"Sicero..." She didn't recognize the breathy voice that escaped her lips. That kiss would haunt her for years to come, but she'd never regret it.

He cupped her face and smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I want to see you again. So I won't say goodbye, but I will say good luck."

She resisted the urge to lean into his touch and forced herself to nod instead. "All right. Until then, take care of yourself."

"You too, Octavia." Sicero opened the carriage door and helped her inside. His hand tightened around hers for a second, before he finally let go.

Octavia kept her gaze forward as he shut the carriage door, only allowing her shoulders to sag once it was moving. Her eyes grew hot and her chest heavy, but she refused to look back. Her work in Hedalda was done, but her war against the netherborne was far from over.

With that in mind, Octavia dried her eyes and focused forward. The path ahead was paved with uncertainty, but as she walked it, she'd carry the lessons learned during her time here in Hedalda. The biggest one of all being that sin and symphony wasn't all a necromancer needed.

But it was all she had.

For now.

Final Note: Want more Sin and Symphony? Then please read Mother -- the story of Claud. It's up on my profile now. Don't forget to leave votes if you love the story. Thank you for all of your support! ~Tempest