Ruby smiled. She recognised how that felt. Your better half daring to take time out for himself. She couldn’t remember when she first let go, found herself as a person without Leopold, but she had. It had been difficult, hours spent idly staring at the stars and roaming the empty hallways of their home. She sighed.

“Is that really so bad?” Honesty laced her words with sincerity.

Lilith turned to her sister with an eyebrow raised.

“I mean, really. Perhaps he’s just got things to do that he doesn’t want to bore you with?” She folded her hands across her lap, waiting for the tea set as it continued to move of its own accord to serve up a second cup.

“I…” Philomel made to say something, but started to doubt her words. “I don’t know.”

“Your independence was always something I admired.” Ruby pointed to Lilith. “She told me much of your time together in the brothels, and I struggle to think of a stronger woman in all the world than you.” The faun had broken the rules of nature to carve her name in the surface of history. Ruby had only ever managed to do the same by burning everything to the ground.

“I’m not sure I was quite that nice,” Lilith chuckled.

“But who am I?” Beneath a crown of thorns, the faun did not match the image Ruby had in her mind. Doubt. Turmoil. Conflict. Not the sort that came with war and a wicked temper, but the kind that snuck up on you like a disease. Resplendent as she was, the spell singer could see shadows dancing behind her eyes.

“That’s a tough question.” Lilith leant forwards and lifted the teapot lid to check the leaves had sufficient time to infuse. Satisfied with the aroma of lavender and jasmine, she poured three fresh cups and they floated to their owner’s hands. The ladies took them in silence, broken only by Delath’s insufferable self-pity and the gentle dance of the evening breeze.

“I don’t think I can answer that.”

Ruby cupped the cup to her mouth and too a delicate sip. It was a softer blend than the first, like a many coursed meal of friendship, it softened the blow after a sweetened chai and came before the spicy whorls of Fallien fire tea.

“Funny.” She took another sip.

Philomel priced her ears and stared at the matriarch intensely.

“Sorry, I mean it’s funny that we found one another.” She set the cup onto her lap. “We’ve been wondering much the same thing.” Who was Ruby Winchester without the fire that gave her a namesake? Who was Lilith Kazumi reborn as a Scara Braen belle? They didn’t fit in anywhere anymore, yet they still had so much to do. So much passion left to be spent.

“I guess you could say we’re having a bit of an identity crisis,” Lilith admitted. She turned to the dragon and traced the pattern of his scales set against the dying of the light. She took a deep, sharp breath of evening air and let the thoughts shared between them broil over.