What worth was family anyway? My first one had decided I wasn't worth the emotional energy, so they forgot about me. I wasn't even sure if they did so consciously or if they had just not cared enough anymore to remember. I would've preferred it if they had shut me out of their minds, just wanted me gone so their safe and stable lives could go back to some semblance of normality. At least then there would be some blame to go around. In this life, I sold my new father for a reputation and a good one at that. If the consequences of abandonment are always positive, why bother making attachments in the first place? Here Mary was, holding on so very tightly, and like always it was hurting her.

***

I recoiled as the warmth of another human seeped through the thin sheets of the hospital bed. He was just sitting on the bed's edge, but it felt like he was crushing me with his understanding, his kindness, but most of all his pity. What possesses a person to forgive true malice was the question which came to mind. Especially when the bark has bite behind it, the most sensible answer is to simply leave. He looked damaged too, more so than I did no matter the looming growth inside my skull. I couldn't see the pool of blood that must have been collecting at the foot of the bed, but the steady drip made it easy enough to tell that it would take a mop to clean up, not a tissue.

***

The silence was worse than her words had been. It sucked away at the air, hoping to fill lungs that were not there. The evening air was cold and lifeless. Everything just sat there, inert. Mary was trying to make a point of not looking at me, but it was clearly difficult to both watch Chella and keep me out of her peripheral vision. Eventually, she gave up and let me blend into the background, like the shelves of books that lined even these walls.

***

"I don't understand, but can you help me understand?" asked the nurse. He hadn't turned to look at me, but his words bounced off the perfectly white walls, off the perfectly squared corners of my little box of a room, and came back to me perfectly clear. My anger was white too, drowning out the fine details with a brightness that scoured away at my thoughts. I had tried to make him understand, but I had missed and now he wouldn't give me another chance at it. A liar's words were worth nothing to me.

***

"I don't understand, but can you help me understand?" asked a liar. A liar and thief this one was. Couldn't think of anything for itself, so it stole words. It stole from the ones that trusted it most of all. It didn't want to understand. It knew it was better off not knowing. But it really didn't understand. That was the truth at least.

***

I would still try for another chance though. I was weak from sitting around for months, but maybe, just maybe I could make a scar, something to remember me by. There wasn't anything sharp to use, but my fingernails were longer than maybe they should've been. I had read a lot of stories, and every time the characters shouted just before they tried to take someone by surprise, I wondered why they didn't just stay silent the whole time. Surely that would've been a better way to hurt someone. So it was funny when I heard my own angry scream as I swung my arm at him. He must've been expecting it because he just caught my arm. I was even weak enough that he was able to slow down a soften the impact on me.

***

"You don't understand? What, that I haven't fallen into the arms of my beloved?"

***

I didn't struggle any more. The anger was gone with the scream and all that was left was the pain where he had caught my arm. It didn't even hurt very much, nothing like it would've if he had been any less careful, any less prepared. It was good that there wouldn't be anything to remember me by. I finally realized that I wasn't special. This wasn't the first time this nurse had dealt with some angry patient nor would it be the last. My parents had another child, one that would be alive by the year's end. They needed to invest in what mattered, not some lost cause. I would just make things as easy as possible for everyone else while I was still their responsibility.

***

"I don't understand why you care so much, that's all."

***

~Mary~

The council of lords was like a second home to her. For every memory she had of reading a book with her father, she also had one of watching him reign over this room. Even before she had been old enough to understand most of the difficult words they were using, she had watched from the sidelines. The little ways in which little old men with large opinions of themselves were wrapped up in a web of her father's making and then sang to his tune always delighted her to no end. When she had expressed her interest to him at home, mother had worried that she should be spending her time with others her age, but her father had let her into his world without reservation.

She was finally more than just a spectator. The nerves made her pulse quicken and sweat ran down the small of her back, but her shoes clicked against the polished floor in perfect meter. Half of her credibility was who she was, but the other half was the impression she gave.

"Our first exhibit is to be the testimony of the victim of this assassination attempt. Miss Marilynne Wellsworth, please first enlighten the council as to the details of this incident," said her father. He was being careful not to give any impression of favoring her as his daughter so long as she was a witness. Those puffed up raisins sitting in their high chairs wouldn't have dared to call him on something like that, but he was being careful anyway.

Keeping to proper etiquette, Mary crushed her hesitation and spoke out in the clearest voice she could manage, "As you wish, my Lord Duke. On this First Day I was attacked by an assassin in the Royal Academy's bathroom following the conclusion of classes some time after second bell in the afternoon. My assailant carried a poisoned blade and tried to rush me with it while I was unaware. The accused's son, Darren Masler, intervened by pushing me out of the way and killing the assassin thereby saving my life."

She was twisting the story slightly, but it was also her fault that she had held him at knifepoint even after he saved her. The letter he had left also helped clear up some of the doubts that she had had. It was a tragedy that criminals had families who would suffer for crimes they never committed, but the world wasn't a fair place. The law was an imperfect instrument to bring justice to such a world, so it could be helped along at times.

"I was knocked unconscious when I fell and hit my head against the wall, but I was then brought to my room in the Academy dorms by the aforementioned Darren Masler. When I awoke, he explained what had happened and that it had been arranged by Baron Masler. Unable to stop his father directly, he decided to intervene and save my life and then set this investigation in motion."

"Thank you, Miss Wellsworth. We will now move on to some other substantive evidence before we question witnesses."

Her part was over for now, so she went back to the seating reserved for witnesses and investigators. The investigators were made up of two inquisitors in their usual red as well as a scribe who was sitting with a large stack of files, probably evidence of some sort. She didn't recognize any of them, but that wasn't really a surprise since cases against nobles were rare. For all that it was their main responsibility to keep the nobles in check while the nobles dealt with their own subjects, the line was blurry and it seemed to Mary that the inquisition mostly just arrested commoners to look like they were doing something and otherwise turned a blind eye. They were a corrupt lot, but it wasn't as if they called each other out on it and the nobles were more than happy to leave things as they were.

"Upon searching the body of the assassin, found dead in the Royal Academy's women's bathroom with stab wounds from the front, the following was found linking him to Baron Masler."

One of the guards went up to the senior looking of the two inquisitors. The inquisitor fished a small pouch from a pocket in his uniform and handed it over. It was small, but it definitely wasn't small enough that it could've been hidden in the cloak that the assassin had been wearing without her noticing back then.

"Inside is the illegal substance known as kiff. With the cooperation of Darren Masler, sites producing the same substance run by the Masler house were uncovered and the same pouches were found being used for individual sale of the substance. We suspect it was the form of payment given to the assassin for the deed."

They made it sound like the assassin had been an addict who was willing to do anything for a fix. But she had seen the look on the boy's face when he had attacked. It wasn't desperate, just sad. As if he knew that he wouldn't be getting away with anything. Things didn't add up, but she didn't have all the pieces yet.

"Our next exhibit is the testimony of Darren Masler, son of King's Baron, Lord Herbert Masler, serving Governor of the Masler Barony, and current heir to the Masler house. Please relate what you know of the misdeeds of your father," said her father, but she wasn't listening any more. She was trying every permutation of possibilities, but nothing made sense. She had spoken with her father before the trial and there was no question that Baron Masler was running a weapons smuggling ring and a distributing kiff. Darren said that Baron Masler tried to have her assassinated because it would set her father off and he wanted to take advantage of the chaos, but that plan was on its face absurd.

"It would be my pleasure, my Lord Duke," said Darren. He looked far too happy to be testifying against his own father. All the evidence pointed to Baron Masler being some sort of evil monster who just wanted to watch the world burn, but Mary had never believed that anyone, no matter how delusional, thought themselves evil.

The council of lords was as closed to a sacred place to her as any place could be. It was the place where lords and ladies could no longer pretend that they were better than the commoners. It was where the law judged all equally. But this day it was the host of a farce.

The Baron Masler looked miserable and hungover. He put up no resistance as they dragged on his chains, but neither did he put in the effort to walk on his own power. He was just limp, like the doll a child drags behind them. Had he not masterminded the attempt on her life, then his sentence should have been the same. But without that charge, Mary also had no doubt that the council would have found a way to let him walk with just a slap on the wrist. It wouldn't have mattered if her father had tried to push for the sentence prescribed by the law. They would have protected one of their own.

Her father came down from the bench and went first to where Darren sat, some couple seats down. Far enough that during the trial Mary hadn't been able to discreetly say anything to him, but close enough that now she could overhear her father, "I must offer my condolences that you were forced to do this to your own father, but I also must thank you for your services to both the kingdom at large and to me personally. If there is anything that you need in the future, consider it done."

Mary watched the exchange for any sign that Darren had done something, but he gave away nothing. He didn't look sad that he had consigned his own father to death. He didn't look drained in the way that some witnesses looked after they spoke before the council. He just looked confused, as if there was something he didn't understand.

***

~Darren~

Mary started laughing. In between giggles, she was barely able to speak, but it was without the previous anger, "I care because I love her. Isn't that what family is about?"