Cassandra gazed upon the White City sparkling almost blindingly in the afternoon sun, and she wanted to throw up.

It was the same view from her memories, the border between what was still considered the Never Peaks and the Draguissonne Highlands. It shimmered all the same. Bellesailles was smaller than she remembered, of course everything appears larger to a child anyways. But everything was exactly as she recalled, it was almost like she never left.

Almost.

The boys stared in awe at their first sight of the city while Cassandra kept her eyes trained on the blue roofs of the towers, watching the faint shape of a golden horse gallop in the wind as the Valoran flag rippled. She wanted to let them have their moment to absorb the beauty of Bellesailles— objectively, the city was immaculately gorgeous– but she just couldn't keep her thoughts at bay long enough to let them enjoy the view.

Without a word, Cassandra began the journey through the Draguissonne Highlands, and she hoped the other two noticed her absences and began following. They'd have all the time in the world to marvel at the city once they got there, but for some reason her mind told her that getting there faster meant she would leave the city sooner.

Bellesailles was much smaller than Vale Serine. Less than half the size of it, at least. One would think that being paraded through the streets in a significantly smaller city would be less horrible. One would be wrong about that, actually.

The people of the White City would stop mid-task at the sight of the royal escort, and subsequently would line the streets and watch the trio go by. There was no grand applause for their arrival, and there were certainly no tears or displays of empathy. They just observed noiselessly. Even the little girls who would long to get a glance from the faraway princess stood calm and quiet.

The people were clearly in the middle of preparing for some sort of festival. They held in their hands various colors of flowers, masks of various kinds of animals, and ribbons, the squares and streets dotted with small booths where vendors were setting up shops. She felt awful interrupting their happy celebrations with her presence, the terrible feeling in her stomach trying to twist the contents out of it.

So the brick roads filled with Valoran citizens, and Cassandra did everything she could to keep herself together in front of the strangers watching her intently. Cassandra was immensely glad that the route to the palace was significantly shorter than Vale Serine's. Her sense of time was a bit warped, but soon she saw the gates to the palace and a gathering court inside.

The party slowed to a stop before the Valoran court, Cassandra trying to gather herself into a reasonably functional human with a sliver of personality. This was turning out to be much more difficult than Cassandra expected, of course, she never figured that just the sight of the White City would cause her such distress. She didn't have long to think about it, though.

King Guillame outstretched his arms, making his way down the steps of the castle as he said, "Warm welcome, Princess Casssandra, to you and your company."

Since smiling proved difficult the entire journey there, Cassandra chose to maintain a more regal poise. "We thank you for inviting us into your home, Your Majesty."

"It is your home now, too." There was that feeling of needing to throw up again. "You shall always be welcome here."

Cassandra bowed her head, more to hide her cracking countenance than to show respect, and replied, "I am eternally grateful for that, Your Majesty."

The king answered with a similar head bow, placing his hand on his chest as he did so. "Come, we shall get you settled before the excitement begins."

The Valoran court disassembled as King Guillame approached the party, extending a hand politely to help Cassandra dismount. She didn't need the help, however, she'd take it just to be nice. Her feet hit the stone bricks of the courtyard much more gracefully than they would've with no help. Once dismounted, the king stepped away to a respectful distance and grabbed the reins of her horse.

"This is a lovely creature you have here," he said, gently petting her horse's black body.

Cassandra gave him the best smile she could. "Artemis has been a wonderful companion on many of my adventures."

King Guillame kept petting Artemis as he spoke. "It's wonderful that you have a steed to share your travels with." He handed the reins to a stable boy who led Artemis and the other horses towards the royal stables, and the king gave Cassandra a small, sad smile as he turned to face her. "I understand this must be extremely hard for you. I want you to feel welcome here."

Cassandra sighed through her nose, finding the ground very interesting. "I really do appreciate that."

King Guillame nodded in response. "We should get you all settled."

King Guillame had passed the Nevernians off to the servants that would be attending to them. Of course, the maid that was to attend to Cassandra was nowhere to be found, so Bastien's servant showed her the room she was staying in and offered to get her anything in the meantime. She declined, dismissing him so he could attend to Bastien's needs instead of her own.

Now she was left to her own devices.

The Baudelyon Palace was so different from the one at home, yet there were the usual decorations that she was accustomed to. Sheer white curtains on the bed frame with gold detailing. Books filling a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. The changing screen even looked like hers from home. Of course, she didn't mind the vases in the windows filled with the most gorgeous blue flowers.

However, most of the floors were wooden instead of stone, and Cassandra only noticed because she stared intensely at the patterns the wood made during her walk to her guest chambers. The bedchambers, of course, had no stone in sight. Decorating the walls was a sort of decorative paper with tiny, repetitive designs on them. Hers happened to be a pastel yellow with a dragon as the pattern.

It felt so wrong to be there.

The first thing she had to do was get this goddamn sword belt off of her body. She grasped numbly at the buckle, trying to undo it. The sword hung at her side with such an awful presence, the weight of it growing ever so heavier as moments passed. The entire day she had just been aware of its existence like an impending doom. It may have been worse than the prolonged burden sitting in her shirt pocket– though that one felt more like a blade placed against her chest.

Cassandra threw the sword onto the bed then tightly gripped the hair at her scalp. Her left palm which was pressed against her forehead felt the vein above her eyebrow wanting to pop out of her skin. This shouldn't be so hard. She shouldn't want to throw up or hurl something every second she was awake. Why was this so hard?

She squeezed the clumps of hair in her hands harder, her scalp burning like the strands were about to be pulled out of her head, and she sighed deeply through her nose before letting go. Cassandra sensed the tears trying to form, looking upwards as they began to well. She would not cry. Not here and certainly not now. It didn't matter that no one was there to see if she did, she would not break. She hated crying anyway. Her face would feel sticky because of the tears, she would always make Gena draw a bath after she cried. It didn't matter what time of night it was, she despised how her skin felt after crying. Also her nose would turn red, and no amount of cosmetics could cover up the color. Crying was disgusting and she hated every second of it.

Somehow thinking about all of that did not keep the tears from trying to escape her eyes, but what did was the sudden opening and closing of the chamber door.

Cassandra whipped her head around to find a young woman rushing in, muttering a little bit in Valorn. She couldn't have been older than Evie, and hopefully not nearly as annoying seeing as she appeared to be the maidservant that was to attend to her for the stay. The maid stopped in the middle of the room upon seeing the princess standing there watching her and immediately dropped into a bow.

"I am so sorry," she said, a thick Valoran accent weaving its way between every word she spoke. "Please, forgive and excuse my lateness. I have been helping my father with his stand today."

Cassandra recalled the stands lining the streets in the city, but she was very easily seduced by the part of herself that wanted to cause trouble. "What's your name?"

"Margaux," the servant replied quickly. "Margaux LaRue."

Cassandra's head tilted upwards slightly, and she did not hesitate. "You are forgiven, but do not let it happen again."

"Yes, my lady." Margaux curtsied, seeming to shake a little bit.

Cassandra almost had to keep herself from smiling at the fear in the maid's eyes, and her spirits lifted a bit. She should've thought it was horrible, that what she was doing was evil. But she didn't. It certainly made her feel better.

"If you could start unpacking my things," Cassandra ordered, "I believe your king wishes to dine with his guests rather soon."

"Yes, my lady," Margaux curtsied again and rushed towards Cassandra's belongings, but she hesitated for a moment at the sight of the Sunbound Blade. She didn't ask any questions, just looked at it for a moment too long and then continued about with her tasks.

"What was the stand for?" Cassandra sounded anything but sincere. She was curious, but not ready to play nice just yet.

The question caught the maid off-guard. "Hm?"

"The stand," Cassandra sighed dispassionately. "What was it for?"

"Oh." Margaux seemed to still be nervous as she continued to unpack Cassandra's possessions. "My father sells masks for the children every year."

"I don't understand."

Margaux looked at the princess like she was crazy, and the face vanished in an instant when she realized whatever this was, it was not familiar to outsiders. "For the Fox Festival. It's an end of summer celebration and such."

Cassandra leaned against the bed frame. "And these masks are...?"

"Part of the celebration?" Margaux seemed to border on being irritated by Cassandra. At this point she wasn't trying to be manipulative and horrible, she just genuinely didn't know any of what was being referenced.

"I'm not familiar with this festival." Cassandra said it more bluntly and matter-of-factly than what was intended. "We don't celebrate this in Nevernia."

Margaux stopped mid-hanging a dress. "Oh."

There was a very awkward silence that filled the room for several moments too long, so Cassandra found herself wandering over to the window. She gently pushed it open, cold autumn air leaking into the chambers. She didn't realize how numb she was feeling until she had the wind caressing her skin.

"The festival is named after Gaelle the Fox," Margaux said quietly. "She's a character from these old children's stories. My father makes masks of each of the characters so the children can pretend to be their favorite character from the stories."

"Mm." Cassandra heard the words that the maid spoke, but her eyes were fixed out on the courtyard below. There were echoes in her mind, echoes of times long gone. The white stone below was filled with passing shadows, faded pictures of the past. She knew it was all in her mind, but she couldn't look away. Timelines overlapped, but she could see everything so clearly. There were children running around the courtyard chasing after each other, arguments between friends, spars with all manner of weapons, and a flash of crown and fur.

Among the vague wisps of people past was the presence of the two men her mind wouldn't let rest since embarking on the journey to the White City.

"My lady?" Unknown to Margaux, Cassandra watched so many scenes play out in the courtyard.

They were both brief glimpses and the longest dream of her life. Horses faded into view even though there were none there, the glint of a golden crown sparkling in the sun. Dismounting was Cassandra's father, an almost-ten-year-old Cassandra doing her best to dismount as smoothly as her father just had. Greeting them from the steps just as he had earlier was a younger King Guillame, a small figure hiding behind the Valoran king's fur-lined cloak. Henri was shy the first time they had ever met. He had barely wanted to leave the palace with his father to greet them, that's how scared he was of the Nevernian royalty.

There was a phantom clicking of sticks as it morphed into Henri and Cassandra sparring in the courtyard. What was strange here was the vision would flash between the children and their older selves even though the spars they had done as teens and adults never happened in that courtyard. It was almost as if she was watching every sparring match they ever had play out at the same time. Cassandra always won. There was no contest, but that didn't mean the two of them didn't have any fun fighting each other.

Why are you being so difficult about this?!

The voice came from behind her, but when Cassandra whipped her head around, there was no one there. She could feel Margaux's eyes fix on her, burning her skin with confusion and concern.

YOU'RE JUST A SELFISH LITTLE BITCH!

Cassandra's throat immediately closed up, and she reached for the nearest surface to grasp at. She would not cry. She would not cry. She would not cr–

I can't believe I ever called myself your friend. Margaux never received an explanation for why Cassandra left her chambers so fast, or even where she was going.

Chapter Intro: The Bond of Sacrifice — Merlin
Chapter Outro: Dancing After Death - Stripped — Matt Maeson