The Cousin's Fate

Isolde climbed the east tower stair alone, waving off the guard who moved to follow her past the landing. She found Cressida sitting by the single narrow window, hands folded in her lap, still and composed. She looked as though she’d been expecting this particular visit for exactly a week, and had simply been waiting for it to arrive on its own schedule rather than hers.

“You look rested, cousin.” Cressida didn’t rise. “I hear the General’s recovering. I’m glad of it, whatever you’re inclined to believe about that.”

“I believe you, actually. That’s the strange part of all this.” Isolde stayed near the door, the same careful distance she’d have given a wound she wasn’t certain had finished bleeding. “I’ve spent a week deciding what to do with you, Cressida, and I find the hardest part isn’t the politics of it. It’s that I keep remembering a girl who…