She knew she was being depressed with her family. Selene had told herself that she would mourn on the ship back but would gather herself as soon as she returned. And she had tried, putting on a brave face as she disembarked from the ship. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard the whispers of those who realized she was back. Her father’s letter had made it clear that the rumors had been that she was chasing after a royal marriage. Coming back as she had, with no official announcement, meant that she was coming back with her tail between her legs.

So while her head was raised high, and while she tried to let the whispers and looks roll off her back, there was still something very personal about how they stared at her. Normally, she didn’t care about rumors. But these hurt just as badly as the ones that surrounded her when Zacharias died.

No, that wasn’t true-- this hurt so much more.

So while she knew that they didn’t know any better, that didn’t make the sting any less painful. She was pleased that her father had thought to bring the carriage for them, able to duck her head into the safe walls within to bury her face into his shoulder. She knew that he wanted to embrace his wife, wanted to speak of her trip to make sure that she was alright. But he had let her quietly cry into his chest, needing his comfort the most.

When they arrived back at the manor, he assisted her back to her room. And while he wanted to hear exactly what happened to her, why she was returning back, he gave her the time she needed. And then, even though it was still early in the day, Selene quietly cried herself to sleep. It wasn’t until she woke in the middle of the night, unable to continue in her room, that she wandered into the music room. And that’s where her father had found her once more, and her heart opened up to tell him what happened.

She told him of how she had fallen in love with him. How he had every intention of marrying her until he discovered that Thea was pregnant from their last encounter, far before he had ever proposed to her. And that she genuinely believed that he had no intention of hurting her, but that she could not have stayed with him even if she had wanted to. And he hadn’t said anything but exactly what she had needed to hear. His quietness in the wake of her heartache was the perfect counterbalance for how broken she felt. She went back to sleep shortly after that, blissfully blessed with dreamless sleep.

The next morning, Jo had breakfast delivered to her room. The small meal of fruit and bread was picked at with little enthusiasm. It was strange how sadness seemed to consider food unnecessary and how sleep was the more important nourishment. Once she had eaten what little sounded appetizing, Selene found herself at her dressing table. The girl looking back at her was certainly not Selene. Her hair was wild, eyes puffy and rimmed with red. Her nose looked raw, matching her eyes in their distress. Had she ever looked so forlorn? What would Zanon think if he saw her? Or her mother? As horrible as she knew she looked, it also felt so daunting to try and put herself together. She had told Jo that she wished to be alone, so not even she would be there to tend to the blonde. No, all she could do was wrap his himation around her shoulder and shift to a chair by the window. Tucking herself into the chair, she stared out at all the lush green, slowing crisping to richer tones with the cold weather.

She did not want to think of him. And she certainly did not like the idea that she would never know his fate after they parted. Her letter to him should have been a balm to her soul, but all it did instead was solidify the fact that she was terrified for him. And it was worse because it was not her place to be scared for him. Could she really even be his friend after this? She had told herself she felt no ill will towards either party, but that did not mean that she would be able to visit him to celebrate his successes without the ache of knowing they should have been hers to share, too. And why did her dreams present her with a rounded belly, his hands gently on her abdomen as the child within kicked in acknowledgement? Or the image of a perfect copy of herself with his temperament, or little boys with his face but her laughter? The Gods paid her no kindness, the ache only growing as she realized there was little reprieve in dreams.

Selene had never been the kind to wallow like this. It felt wrong, and yet she could not bring herself to do anything else. Her father had promised they would escape to Macendia, as soon as they were able. She would only have to present herself for a family meal in a few days and then she could be truly home. And maybe, just maybe, she would find the healing she needed there.

A knock on the door broke through her thoughts. Before she could say anything, could tell whomever it was to leave, the door opened. And there, looking perfect and happy and content was Theodora. The juxtaposition of her perfection to Selene’s own brokenness almost made her laugh. How pathetic she must have looked to her younger sister. “Oh, I did not think I would see you until dinner in a few days.” She even sounded pathetic, but still, she did not make an effort to rise from her chair, his himation firmly around her shoulders mocking her.