Lou opened her eyes slowly, taking a moment to adjust to the morning light filtering in through the blinds of the apartment window. Her gaze lazily clung to the painting that hung on the wall as she took deeper and deeper breaths, easing herself out of her sleepy haze. She still wasn't as well-rested as she'd hoped. But she had also made it through the night without dreams or nightmares, so she figured she'd chalk that up as a win.

She stretched, pushing the covers into even more of a heap. This was the third time she'd opened her eyes this morning. Maybe this time she'd actually make it out of bed.

And she did, a half hour or so later.

Lou remembered how much it had hurt to wake up in this bed the first time, though it was for very different reasons. She'd gladly take that kind of pain again over this one. At least those mysterious rib bruises had healed quickly thanks to the equally mysterious witch's treatment. It would take more than a balm to soothe what Lou's heart was feeling right now, no matter how deeply she massaged it into her skin.

She rubbed her face as she sat up on the side of her bed, her modest nightie fluttering slightly in the breeze. Now that she was thinking about it, she never had learned what had caused those injuries. Talking it out with Frederic and the Prince had shaken loose some cobwebs from her memory, enough to remember that nothing—and no one—had come even close to her current body during the coronation. Had it happened afterwards, then? Before Frederic dropped her off?

Not that it mattered anymore. Physical wounds healed. And if they did so without scarring, that was as good as them never having happened in the first place. Lou's body had been lucky; she couldn't say the same for her heart. She reached for the glasses on her nightstand.

She stared at them, through the lenses, as she held them open in front of her. It took her a moment to recognize that she didn't need them anymore. Putting them on every morning had become another ritual, a way to get into character and hide the person underneath. She wouldn't miss the constant worry of being recognized, the fussing to maintain the pretense of being someone else. But she would miss the friends she'd made as Glasses, the little moments of joy in a life otherwise defined by back-breaking work. She folded the frames up and put them back on the nightstand, keeping her hand on them for a while, until she could no longer bear all the memories they brought up. She took a deep breath, then let go.

Judging by the height of the sun and the bustle outside, it was well into morning. Le Petit Chaperon had opened its doors and people were noisily going about their business on the floor below, some invariably sticking around to grab a bite. Lou figured she ought to do the same as well. This was her last day here, after all.

She stumbled to the small washroom, a welcome luxury of what was otherwise a modest apartment. Being in a royal safehouse had its perks. She went through her usual morning routine—rinse, clean with soap, lotion, apply cream to brush... wait. No, she was out of the special conditioner. "Focus, come on, focus," she mumbled to herself as she emerged back out onto the apartment proper. She didn't know how long she'd be away from the city. She would have to visit Chez Gaston before leaving today to stock up, or else her hair would get all frizzy again.

She pulled open a dresser drawer. She had accumulated a few outfits during those first couple of weeks of awkward shopping and attempting to live the city life. On the day she left for the castle with barely anything to call her own, she was fully expecting everything in this room to be reclaimed by the owner, the next guest, or whoever was handling the upkeep of safehouses at the castle. It had been a pleasant surprise to find everything exactly where she'd left it. Maybe now, she could make better use of these clothes.

Lou picked one of the more rugged dresses she owned. She'd be traveling all day, so something fitting for the open road felt more appropriate. That said, she'd also be meeting some important new people, so making a good first impression was key. She should probably add an accessory, something that looked a little nicer. Maybe that bolero she got on a whim that first week? She decided to go for it, checking out the result in the body-length mirror nearby.

Yeah. Yeah, that worked.

She posed this way and that to make sure her outfit looked acceptable. Then she turned around again, faster this time, making the lower half of her dress rise up a little as it spun.

Lou smiled in spite of herself, the color rising to her cheeks—if only for a moment.

It all felt different this time around. Her first few days in this place had been a mess of worries and fumbling around in a body that felt uncanny to her; a body she still thought she was borrowing, and would be expected to return. But now, she knew: it was hers. Hers to do what she wanted with, no matter what. When she and the Prince finally talked that night, when she realized they wouldn't be switching back, there had been an initial wave of shock, of fear. But by morning, she was happier in her body than she'd been in a long time. Maybe ever, in fact.

Part of her wondered if she would ever feel that happy again.

Today didn't quite feel as hopeless as the last few days had, but that wasn't saying much. She really had needed a lot of sleep and a lot of water. She would need a lot more. Considering how much she cried in the last few months, even just the last few days, maybe by this time next year she'd have drunk the ocean.

Lou took another deep breath. She'd be back up here to pack up and leave, but for now, her rumbling stomach told her she ought to get some breakfast. She grabbed her handbag and headed downstairs to the bakery proper.

The smell of freshly-baked bread had become a mainstay of the apartment upstairs, but on the ground floor it was inescapable, like a grandmother's warm hug. The old woman who ran the place with the help of her daughter and her daughter's daughter had been up since before dawn, preparing a wide array of sweet and savory delights. Lou stepped up to the counter, keeping an eye on her favorite table over in the corner, by the front windows. With any luck, she'd be able to get to it before someone else did.

She looked at the apples on display in their cozy little basket on the counter. The Prince had always had a soft spot for these, which meant that she now did too. Sometimes she wasn't quite sure where her new body ended and her old mind began, but when it came to food, she'd inherited a lot of new favorites. Her hand hovered over the fruits, trying to pick the right one. They all looked slightly different. She knew one of these would taste better than the others, but she could never get it right. Her hand trembled. She always messed this up.

"Oh! Allow me, for old times' sake," the old bakery owner said as she rushed over with a spring in her step. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, then selected an apple and handed it over.

"Thank you," Lou said quietly as she accepted the fruit. She reached down to give it a shine on the hem of her dress. She bit into the apple, and—bliss, followed by relief. Somehow the old lady got it right every time. Lou was reminded of that time Dusty had tried to teach her how to tell different kinds of rice apart, to no avail. After a very embarrassing attempt at risotto, Lou had been relegated to potato duty for quite a few meals. Even she couldn't ruin potatoes.

"And how are you doing today, Your Majesty?" the old lady asked as she restocked the pastry display.

Lou looked up at the kindly baker for a moment, then back down to the pastries. She didn't have the heart to be honest with her, not even on her last day here. "I'm... doing okay," Lou replied, torn between the pear tartelette and the peach one. She opted for the former. "You know you don't need to call me that anymore," she added, self-consciously.

"Oh I know I don't need to. But you still deserve to be treated like a princess every now and then." The woman smiled as she slid Lou's plate over to her—with a little macaron thrown in on the side. "Just like you still deserve sweets. After all, you kept the Prince safe all these years!"

Lou smiled weakly as she thanked the old baker, putting her apple down onto the plate as she picked it up. She'd really miss this place. At least here she didn't have to worry about coming up with a different identity or a character to play. With the royal decoys still in town, everyone was used to meeting an occasional reminder of the Prince's former look. Everyone also treated them fairly well, as they all had put themselves at personal risk in order to protect the one whose face they wore—some more literally than others.

"Well, if it isn't the bodyguard!" said a voice behind Lou.

"Oh! Oh, you're right!" a second voice said, followed by the snapping of fingers. "The one from the café last year! Wait, is it bodyguard or body double?"

"I thought they were the same thing."

Lou turned around, plate in hand, coming face to face with the two socialites whose conversation she'd eavesdropped all those months ago. "Uh... Some of the body doubles were also bodyguards," she said, nervously eyeing her favorite table in the corner as more people came in. "Hi."

"Hello! How have you been?" the first of the two ladies asked, putting a hand on her hip as she gestured toward Lou with a closed hand fan. "It's been ages since we saw you, hon. Still living it up here in the city? Enjoying that cushy retirement?"

"I've, uh... I was staying at the castle for a bit," Lou said between glances at the corner table. "But I'm leaving the city soon. Today, actually."

"Oh wow, the castle!" the second lady said. "Fancy! It's practically unheard of to actually stay at the castle." She gave Lou a sly grin. "You must have connections!"

"That reminds me, remember that time Helena lorded over us the fact she spent a night in the castle?"

"Ugh, who can forget."

"Turns out she was bunking with that lieutenant she had a fling with!"

"You're kidding! You mean she wasn't staying in that guest suite with the diplomats? And she described the tapestries in such vivid detail!"

"All lies!" The first socialite cackled. "She was slumming it in the barracks!" She held out her closed hand fan, the mental image driving her into a fit of laughter.

Her friend tapped her fan with her own in a practiced motion, as if the two of them were toasting with champagne flutes. "Incredible! Oh, we've got to get back at her for that. She wiped the floor with us at the soirée thanks to that little story."

The socialite wiped a tear from her eye, turning her attention back to Lou. "Well, hon, I'm glad you were able to have a proper stay in the castle. They really do know how to treat their alumni there, don't they."

"I... I s'pose so," Lou said, in a formidable display of keeping it together. But then, her heart sank as she saw a pair of people come in and walk over to the corner. She had hoped to sit at her favorite spot on her last day here, but... that was fine. It was just a table. She didn't deserve it more than anyone else.

"Well?"

Lou suddenly realized that the socialite had asked her a question, but had completely missed what it was. "Huh?"

"I asked, where are you traveling? Any fancy tourist spot we should check out? It's great to be in the capital but it's even better to come back to it, am I right?"

"Uh..." Lou took a second to gather her wits about her. "I'm going to see a theater troupe. They're, uh... by the next village over, just out the east gate."

"Lords and ladies, how avant-garde! I see what you're doing." She pointed with her fan. "You're going to catch the next play before it hits the city! Oh, we should do that too sometime!"

"We can get the scoop on Helena! She thinks she's so smart, wait 'till you see her face when she finds out we've already seen the play she got opening night tickets to! Clever." The second lady leaned forward to give Lou a conspiratorial nod. "Very clever. Well, we won't keep you, enjoy your breakfast!"

"And safe travels!" the first woman said, waving with her fan as she and her friend walked up to the counter.

Lou said her goodbyes, happy to have survived that conversation. She walked away from the counter, figuring she'd just go up to her room to eat by herself. But then, from the corner of her eye, she noticed something she wasn't expecting: her table was still free. She ran up to it, heart beating—had the other customers chosen to sit elsewhere? Would she be able to sit there after all?

The small 'reserved' sign on the table told the story. Lou's heart sank a second time. Of course, that made sense. Why hadn't she thought of that? She could easily have reserved the table herself. She'd had... she'd had plenty of time. But now it was too late. Her plate began to shake in her hand.

"Here you go!" the baker's granddaughter said as she walked over to pluck the little sign from the table. "I figured you'd want to sit in your spot, today being your last day and all." She gave Lou the warmest smile, patted her on the shoulder, and walked off.

Lou just stood there in shock.

It took her a moment to register what had happened. She eventually sat down in her usual chair—back to the wall, nestled in the corner—and watched people go by outside, not fully believing that this was real. That she had wanted something, and then gotten it.

It must have looked like a small, meaningless thing to anyone else, but for her, it was special. She was in her favorite spot, eating breakfast just the way she liked it, and... and that was what mattered to her. It mattered because these were things that she liked. And someone else had noticed, to the point of making sure she could have them. She hadn't even asked.

She didn't want to tear up on her last day here, but it was getting hard not to become emotional over this. Why were the people here being so nice to her? She hadn't done any great service to them, she wasn't paying them beyond what her stipend would allow. Why the special treatment? It made no sense, she couldn't explain it. And if she couldn't explain it, she couldn't make sure to keep—

"You forgot your water!" the baker's granddaughter said with a smile as she returned to drop off a glass. "Do you need... oh gosh, are you okay?"

Lou nodded through the tears, scrambling for something with which to wipe her eyes. She didn't understand. She didn't understand at all. But the impact of these constant little kindnesses was overwhelming. She had to say something; it could still be true, just not the relevant truth. "I'm just... sniff I'm just really gonna miss this place."

"Aww, I totally get it! We'll miss you too," the young lady said as she put a comforting hand on Lou's shoulder before rushing back to work.

Lou buried her face into a cloth napkin. She had tried. She had tried really hard not to do this today, and yet. She gave herself a moment to follow Chiffon's time-honored advice and let it all out. Then she put the napkin down and reached for her water, taking a long sip. The ice cubes made a satisfying clinking sound as she put the glass back down. Lou exhaled shakily.

She was going to drink the ocean.

The noonday sun gleamed over the city as the lunch rush arrived, Lou secure in her corner spot as she finished her late breakfast. As much as it pained her to leave the city, staying here any longer would hurt even more. She wasn't a part of the Prince's plans. Why stay in a place filled with daily reminders of him, past and present? Why torture herself like this? A tiny part of her believed Frederic, believed that she deserved better. Maybe she'd find it somewhere else, especially in a place a friend—a dear friend—had vouched for.

Lou smiled bittersweetly. The hope inside of her, the part that truly believed things could work out... she wanted to find it again. Perhaps she would endure, if she just gave herself the chance to heal. Maybe she'd even make some new friends along the way. She wasn't worried about getting her foot in the door at all, strangely enough. Her stubbornness would win out, equipped with all the skills she'd gained working in the castle. Surely the troupe would see something in her that showed promise. Even if the Prince hadn't.

She was broken out of her reverie by someone walking into the bakery wearing the very visible dress uniform of the royal guard and an even more visible hat. They made a beeline for the counter, where the baker's granddaughter pointed them to her table.

They quickly made their way over. Before she realized what was happening, they were standing before her, saluting. "S... uh... Soixante-Douze reporting for duty... ma'am."

It took Lou a moment to process the information. The guard's face was oddly familiar, but she couldn't quite place where they'd met—the castle had no shortage of people with soft features and brown hair, though the ponytail did narrow it down slightly. Based on their mannerisms, it was clear they were no veteran. Could this have been a new hire from after the coronation? Maybe the two of them had happened to cross paths briefly during her months in the castle as Glasses. The pointed blue bycocket hat on their head didn't ring any bells, but the round piece of metal pinned to it did: that was a royal medal of some sort. They had accomplished something of note.

Still, what were they reporting to her for? Were they here to—she lightly clapped her hands together in realization. "Oh! You're... you're here to escort me, right?"

They nodded, looking a little relieved. "Yes ma'am. Your ride is outside, I'm here to help you get packed and take you to your destination." They eased up from their salute, taking off their pointed hat and holding it at their waist. "Where, uh, wherever that might be. I was told you would tell me. Ma'am."

Lou scrambled to her feet, piling her empty dishes together in a clatter to bring them back to the counter. "Uh, yeah, right away, sorry. My stuff is upstairs, I'll show you." She stopped two steps later. "I... don't s'pose you brought bags?"

The guard nodded. "Sir Frederic set aside two portmanteaus from the castle's inventory, ma'am. Shall I bring them up?"

Lou breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't thought about luggage. She thanked the gods that at least this mistake she wouldn't have to pay for. "Yes please. Oh, and uh... do you have a large tarp, and..." She winced. Had she celebrated too soon? The more she thought about it, the more things she'd failed to prepare, and less sure she was about what kind of supplies were standard to bring on a typical royal guard escort assignment like this one. It had been a while, after all. "And some ropes, if you have them?"

Soixante-Douze nodded. "Right away, ma'am."

Lou nodded. Okay. Maybe things could just work out sometimes, after all.

Within minutes, the two of them had made their way up to the second floor apartment. Lou hurriedly packed away her toiletries and small items into her personal bag, then began loading her small collection of garments into the large leather bags her royal guard escort had brought. As she emptied the nightstand and picked up her glasses, it suddenly hit her that she'd just spent several minutes completely undisguised with this guard from the castle. Did they know who she was? She looked at them for a moment.

Maybe it was okay. Maybe Frederic had told them that she was another former royal decoy. They all had gotten fairly cushy retirement packages, after all. She nodded to herself. This was probably fine. She put the glasses away, trying to ignore the pit of her stomach curling in on itself.

"Ma'am? You said to bring this as well?"

She looked over. "Oh. That's, uh... Yes, I brought that in. I'd like to take it with me. Please." She gestured at the wall. "You can just, uh, lift and pull it right off, it's not nailed down or anything. Thank you." She bent back down, stuffing as much as she could into one bag before moving on to the other.

Part of her liked the silence, but the rest of her couldn't stand it. She grasped at straws to get some idle conversation going. "Soixante-Douze... did His Majesty pick that?"

They nodded as they secured the tarp with ropes. "Yes ma'am. I grew quite fond of it over time. More so than my given name, so." They tied off the ropes with a sailor's knot. "Soix is fine, ma'am. I understand the whole thing's a mouthful."

Lou nodded. "Swah... got it." Then she furrowed her brow at the implication. "Wait. Were you just the seventy-second person on the roster? Did he really get that lazy?"

Soix stared at her, mouth agape. "Ma'am, please! I'm honored His Majesty even remembered me! A royal nickname is quite an honor."

Lou's eyes went wide as she held up her hands. "Right! Right, sorry, sorry. I, uh... I spoke out of turn." She looked down, an almost painful shiver going up her spine. She'd forgotten herself again. She kept doing this! "I apologize, that was disrespectful," she added quietly. She turned her back to them and resumed packing, trying not to let the shame get to her. It had gotten so hard to keep herself straight, to keep who she was in order, after wearing so many hats, so many costumes. She really did need to leave this place.

The guard moved their freshly-wrapped parcel near the door as Lou kept packing. Both of them were silent for a long moment, then Soix sighed loudly. "You have nothing to apologize for, ma'am. Least of all to me."

Lou looked up, remaining in her hunched position over the open bag. "What? No, you're keeping the Prince and the castle safe! That's really important." She hesitantly motioned to the hat Soix had left on the dresser. "Plus, you got a royal medal. You must have done something to earn that."

"We both know that's not true."

Lou froze in place. "What?" Then her eyes grew wider. Oh. Oh no, she remembered. She remembered where they'd met.

"I... I know it was you. I saw you get to the intruder first. I saw you wrestle them to the wall, and hold them at knifepoint. I was there, right at the door, but I hesitated. I couldn't move." They walked over to the lone chair set against the wall and sat down in a heap. "Cowards don't deserve medals."

She stared at them. This was the guard who'd wrestled the intruder away from her a while back, the one Frederic had personally decorated just a few mornings ago in lieu of the Prince. That guard. She looked back down, staring at the floor, trying to pull her mind away from what she had been going through during the very moment Soix had been receiving that medal. She focused on the moment all those months ago, in that dark lantern-lit passage, when she had been in a potentially deadly standoff with the intruder. Soix hadn't just come in at the nick of time; they'd seen her. They'd seen everything. Did that mean...

Wait.

"Wait, don't say you couldn't move. You did move!" Lou said, standing back up. "You came in and tackled 'em! If you hadn't come in when you did..."

Soix shook their head. "But you had them in a giant's vise! At knifepoint! If they struggled, they were dead."

Look shook her head harder. "No, I acted without thinking. When it came down to it... at that moment, I told myself I was never gonna take a life with these hands." She held them out, palms up. "I had 'em up against the wall, but that was it. There was no next step. You acted at just the right time."

"But I hesitated—"

"Everyone hesitates!" She put a hand on their shoulder. "Even me. We all do, especially at first. You're still young, right? You've got plenty of time to practice. You're gonna get so much better if you work at it, and from what I can tell, you already are. Frederic gave you a chance for a reason, right?" Lou stepped back as she rubbed the side of her arm, looking down in recollection. "Trust his judgement. Don't sell yourself short."

Soixante-Douze stared at Lou, their expression having gone through shame, surprise, and now astonishment. "It really is you, isn't it. Sir."

"UHHH."

She'd done it again. She was beyond help, wasn't she. Completely forgetting herself in the heat of the moment, no matter how many times she tried to tell herself not to lose focus on the task at hand. She couldn't keep doing this, couldn't keep letting it slip! And yet.

"How... how did you know?" she asked, defeated.

Soix cleared their throat uncomfortable. "Sir Frederic confirmed it. I..." They looked down, inhaling sharply. "I acted in... an unbecoming way... to make him tell me."

Lou snapped out of her spiraling, looking straight at them. "No," she said, aghast. "You didn't."

They grimaced. "I did."

"You used his word against him?!"

"I DID!" they yelled out, burying their face in their hands. "At the award ceremony. He asked me if there was anything he could do for me. I asked, 'anything?' And he said, 'anything.' So I asked him to tell me who the short maid in the glasses was."

Lou shook her head mournfully. "Oh, Frederic."

"I feel so ashamed. But I had to know. The technique, that specific phrase you used... I couldn't get it out of my mind."

There was that twinge deep in her chest again, that strange feeling she couldn't quite put her finger on. The intense need to not be pitied, to not be held up and compared to her previous self. To not be compared to that act she had put on for so long.

Lou's eyes avoided theirs. "Please don't tell anyone," she asked meekly.

"I won't!!" Soixante-Douze said, jumping to their feet, hand on their heart. "I swore on my honor that I would hold my tongue. I swore to Sir Frederic then, and I swear to you now as well. Your secret is safe with me, sir."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. That... that means a lot."

"Of course, sir. I just, you know." They walked over to the dresser, retrieving their hat and putting it back on, pulling the pointed end low—casting a shadow over their face. "I hope Sir Frederic can forgive me."

"You'll be fine," Lou said, giving them a reassuring clap on the shoulder. "Frederic's not one to hold a grudge." She paused. "No, that's not true."

Soixante-Douze did not look reassured.

"No, um! What I'm saying is, you'll be fine. You're polite, you're putting in the effort, you've got a strong sense of justice. You two are gonna get along great. I'm sure of it."

"Well... that is a bit of a relief to hear, sir."

Lou sighed again, her breath stuttering as she exhaled. "You really don't need to call me that either."

"I know, but it only feels appropriate, sir. It's a proud title; you handle it well."

Lou could only laugh at her situation. "I break down every single day and I'm packing away my whole life for the third time in less than a year." She spread out her arms in a broad gesture. "Do I look like I'm handling it well?

Soix tilted their head. "You look normal to me, sir."

Lou blinked. Then broke out in full-throated laughter.

"...Sir?"

She wiped the corner of her eye as she walked over and gave Soix another clap on the shoulder, heartier this time. "Yeah. You and Frederic are gonna get along." She took a deep breath, looking around at the apartment one more time. "I think I'm packed."

"Would you like me to bring everything out while you say your goodbyes?"

Lou brightened up a little. "Yeah? I mean... I'd like that. If that's okay."

Soixante-Douze smiled. "In exchange, sir, may I ask you for some training pointers on the way there?"

"Yeah, ask me any—uh." She paused, then corrected herself. "Ask your questions, and I'll try to answer. But no promises, okay? Oh, and please don't call me ‘sir’ in front of anyone else. As far as the rest of the world knows, I was just another royal decoy."

"Of course, sir! Thank you, sir," they said, gathering Lou's luggage. "I understand, sir."

She looked back one more time at the small apartment that had bookended this chapter of her life. Just a small room, with a bed and a view. A gorgeous view, at that, over this specific part of the upper city, and beyond to the rest of the capital. A view she would have appreciated more and more every day, had she chosen to stay here... if she could have somehow found a way to navigate around every sight and place that she'd shared with the Prince.

She shook her head. Maybe there could have been a happy life for her here and now, but that hadn't been in the cards. And that was okay.

Lou would get to say her goodbyes to the baker, and her daughter, and her daughter's daughter, all of whom had been so kind to her during her time here. And then, for the first time in many, many years... she'd see what things would be like on the other side of the city walls. Who knows? Maybe they'd be better.

She truly hoped they would be.

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