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“You truly never saw her?”
So rarely had Throné seen such uncertainty on Castti’s face. Even with all of her memory-related struggles, there was always that conviction visible in her expression, the confidence that she would make everything right no matter the odds. In the shade of the single tree on the New Delsta harbor, Throné sees that conviction crack for the first time.
“I’m so sorry, Castti,” Throné whispers as she shakes her head. She tries to find the words to continue, but settles for reaching out to hold Castti’s hands between her own.
A single tear falls from Castti’s eye, her face otherwise motionless. She stares at the tree, then the water behind it, struggling to maintain eye contact with Throné. “You mustn’t apologize, Throné,” she eventually says softly. “It is no one’s fault but my own.”
Throné allows Castti the serenity of silence for a moment, peacefully rubbing her thumb over Castti’s gloved hands. Castti attempts to steady her breathing, focusing in on Throné’s touch to ground herself. She pulls her hands away a bit more forcefully than she’d intended, startling Throné just a bit before rapidly removing her gloves and reaching back out to Throné. Castti meets Throné’s gaze for a second or two as their hands meet again, but she quickly directs her attention back to the tree once more as tears continue to fall.
Eventually, Castti is able to breathe with more control. Throné does not rush her into conversation, content to wait as long as Castti needs. She’s ready when Castti finally looks back towards her again, not turning away this time. The doctor maintains eye contact for a while before looking down with a faint, sad smile. “I cannot help but feel weak,” she eventually breaks the silence. “I should have seen the path down which Trousseau was headed.”
“There was no way for you to know,” Throné responds as calmly as she can manage. “Sounds like he found his way in with those weird fuckers Temenos has been tracking down.” Throné’s voice wavers more the longer she speaks, still trying to understand all that Castti has just explained. “You have a maternal sense of responsibility for everyone you care about, and I can only imagine how much stronger it was for the youngest member of your crew. But he was an adult, you couldn’t have made decisions in his stead forever. He still is an adult, I presume, since Timberain’s coronation isn’t for a couple more months."
Castti inhales sharply, the reminder of the future jolting her away from her memories once more. “We have to stop him. If I could only speak with him once more-”
“Castti,” Throné cuts her off, gently but forcefully. “I don’t want to tell you that anything is impossible, but I want you to be aware that some problems cannot be solved with negotiation.”
Throné stops herself, not wanting to upset Castti any further, but to her surprise, she sees the apothecary nod in agreement. “I am aware, I promise,” she squeaks out with her eyes closed. “But I will make an attempt nonetheless.” Throné nods in understanding, moving her right hand to Castti’s upper leg while keeping her left in contact with Castti’s fidgeting hands.
“You’ve truly got that much faith in everyone, don’t you?”
“Many have cited it as my greatest fault.”
“I can’t promise you they’re wrong, but it is something I’ll always love about you,” Throné leans closer, moving a hand up to caress Castti’s face.
“You would still love me, through the depths of psychosis? While I’m forced to question if you have truly existed this whole time?”
Throné looks Castti in the eyes, reaching up to hold her face with both hands. A breath later, she leans in quickly and kisses Castti, lingering long enough for Castti to close her eyes and relax into the moment. Throné pulls away, staying right in Castti’s face as she whispers, “you tell me, Castti.”
“Throné, I-” Castti pauses, closing her eyes and sighing deeply. She reopens her eyes with a relieved expression, as if she’d expected Throné to fade away as well, but the thief remains with her. She stays close enough to feel the warmth of Throné’s breath, to stretch her hands towards any part of her she can find. Her right hand reaches to hold Throné’s hands as her left grasps onto Throné’s upper thigh, just above the dagger she knows is always there to protect her. Her breathing is labored and speedy again, her tears resurfacing as she chokes out a few more words. “You must be real. I could not conjure such a perfect companion without having known you.”
Throné feels the tears come to her eyes as well. “You trust me in a way no one ever has,” she begins. “I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve it after hearing about your old companions.” Throné gets halfway up, swinging her body around fluidly to sit next to Castti and drape her right arm around her, leaning in as Castti lays her head on Throné’s shoulder. “But as much as I don’t think you should trust me so blindly, I will make sure your faith is not misplaced. Nothing could ever be more important to me.”
Castti takes some time to consider her next words, overly aware of the sounds all around her. From her right, she hears the ocean, the wind, briefly a boat horn far in the distance. From her left, Throné’s heartbeat, and while it doesn’t trigger the type of all-encompassing flashbacks she’s experienced so many times of late, it puts a thought into her head so vivid she loses her train of thought and says it out loud instantly.
“It’s been so long since I heard Malaya’s heartbeat.”
Her head slides from Throné’s shoulder farther down her chest, in a semiconscious effort to ground herself more assuredly in reality by hearing Throné’s heartbeat more clearly. Throné tightens her grip on Castti’s body, pulling the apothecary in closer and squeezing with her hand around Castti’s right arm. She becomes more aware of her own heartbeat now that Castti mentions it, feeling her pulse in her neck, in her hands, considering all that Castti implies with that one sentence. Eventually, Throné’s thought process is interrupted by a jolt from Castti, who sits bolt upright, looking between the tree and the dock. “What’s wrong?” Throné asks quickly.
Castti looks down, disappointment more apparent on her face than any other expression. “I’m so sorry, can we go somewhere else? I’m… seeing things, hearing things.”
“No need to be sorry, love.” Throné quickly stands up, offering Castti her hand to help her up as well. “Where should we go?”
“Away from here, you decide,” Castti forces the words out as if they could be poisonous.
“We’re not far from Cape Cold, probably more peaceful up there than having me take you back to the nest.”
“Is that too far from where we were to meet the others?”
“They should be in Montwise for a while. I’ll send a letter once we get to the Cape.”
With a nod, Castti reaches for Throné’s hand once again, pulling her along towards the northern tip of the Brightlands, the snowy landscape of the Winterlands visible in the distance.
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A weight is lifted off of Castti’s shoulders as the temperatures drop. She shivers ever so slightly, but a smile returns to her face as the cold further convinces her of her own continued existence. Looking over to Throné in her usual attire, her doctoral instincts kick back in as she asks, “Throné, are you alright with such… minimal coverage?”
“I spent a lot of time up here as a kid. I love the cold, feels like home.”
“Are you certain-”
“Castti,” Throné cuts her off, seriously at first but giggling as she continues, “It’s good to see you back to your usual self. I’m always warm, feel for yourself if you want.”
Throné lifts the slit in her dress, and without thinking about it too hard, Castti slides her hand onto Throné’s thigh, first confirming the thief feels remarkably warm despite her attire, then blushing and pulling her hand back as she realizes where she’s just reached. “Er- sorry, that was-”
“That was exactly what I told you to do,” Throné says with a sly grin.
Castti smiles shyly, content to reach back and hold Throné’s hand again. There’s nothing more to say as they finish the journey to Cape Cold, and before too long, they find themselves in the privacy of the smallest room of the inn.
Castti sits on the soft couch, the only furniture in the room other than the small bed they’ll share for the next few nights. A distant expression comes over her as she stares into the fireplace, waiting for Throné to finish organizing her weapons, or whatever it is she’s always doing with those things when they arrive at a new hotel. She hardly notices when the thief eventually joins her, pulled back from her thoughts by the sensation of Throné’s warm hand on her knee.
It’s Throné who eventually breaks the silence. “What’s on your mind, Castti. Is there any way I can help you?”
Castti turns to look at her, eyebrows furrowed to accent a troubled expression. “This may sound… pointless, I apologize.”
“Castti, you’ve been through more today than I can imagine. Don’t worry about what I’ll think of you as you try to grapple with it all.”
“You promise?”
“I promise. Besides, I’ll always think you're perfect anyway.”
Castti finally smiles, putting her hand over Throné’s wrist. “Our friends, the ones we’ve traveled with,” she starts, “they’re all really there, yes?” Throné nods, and Castti continues, “There are eight of us in total. Ochette and Temenos are investigating something down on Toto’haha, Osvald and Partitio went ahead to Montwise, and Hikari and Agnea split from us at the harbor to go and join them.”
“All correct.”
Castti’s expression turns serious once more before she goes on, “and none of you ever met Malaya, nor any of the other apothecaries?”
“I wish I had, but no,” Throné sighs.
Castti looks away, back towards the fireplace to have something to focus on. After a beat, her shoulders relax, her posture reverts to normal. “They wouldn’t want me to give in,” Castti says with newfound conviction. “I can finally trust my memories again. And should I falter…” Castti trails off.
“Should you falter, I’ll be there to help. Here, Montwise, Timberain, and anywhere else.”
Castti looks back to Throné, a more serene expression this time. No more words are spoken as it’s Castti who leans in this time, initiating the kiss, tasting a hint of raspberry on Throné’s lips, ending a day of painful memories by allowing herself to forget for just a moment.