Hannah woke up the next day to the most luxurious morning she had ever had. The servants came early to wake her, although she was already up by then, staring out the window at the grounds and at the city beyond. She had a bath in petal-water, and had her face primped and hair brushed and set with flowers (was this going to happen every day?).

Then she went downstairs to join everyone for breakfast – which held a generous choice of meats, bread and tea. When she entered, everyone was there except for Suzanne, and Macks rose to his feet, nodding a greeting at her.

Hannah smiled tightly but said nothing, taking a seat and hoping where she sat wouldn't matter.

"Father, have you met Hannah Iver?" Macks said, addressing the unfamiliar man at the head of the table. He was gray-haired and squint-eyed, but still looked spry and sharp for his age. He glanced once at Hannah and shrugged, completely indifferent.

"This all looks wonderful," Hannah said, looking at Mrs. Droy.

"Thank you, dear. Of course it's all the better with our son at home. We so rarely have him or Ruth over."

She blinked, and Macks explained, "My sister. I'm sure you'll get to meet her while you're here."

"Of course, I intend to call her here, together with Jim and the boy. Have a nice family dinner, like we used to. Wouldn't that be nice, Macks?"

"It would," he said, but almost as if he didn't even think about the words.

"Good morning," Suzanne's voice struck them as she swept in, today in a white-and-green ensemble that Hannah couldn't help admiring. Still, she noticed that Macks didn't stand in her presence the way he had with her. Goodness, she couldn't believe all the little conventions these people had. It must be tiring to be city folk – well-to-do city folk, especially.

"Apologies for being late," Suzanne said. "I was writing a quick letter to Stefan and Alyssa. We should be calling on them just after dinner."

"Why can't we go earlier?" Hannah asked.

Suzanne turned, blinking at her. "Well, Stefan will be at work."

"But we could go a little earlier and wait for him?"

"Well, yes, I suppose we could, but it's not very polite to turn up without sufficient notice. There is a certain way of doing these things, Hannah."

She blinked, embarrassed now. She must seem a simpleton to Macks' parents. "Of course. I mean, I suppose you would know best."

"I'm sure they'll be very happy to see us. It'll be nice, much like old times, Macks."

Hannah paused, glancing over at him. She was actually a bit disappointed that he hadn't said anything to support her idea, or at least defend her against Suzanne. Perhaps that was asking a bit too much of him.

After breakfast, Suzanne grabbed hold of Macks like a predator, saying something about some books she wanted from the study, dragging him away and out of sight.

Hannah tried not to let it bother her, heading upstairs to her room, as it would be for the next week or so. She sat in the center of the stiffly-made bed, wondering how she would last here so long with nothing to do. She looked all around the room, looking in drawers and studying every little ornament on the shelves. But that was hardly enough to occupy her, and she found herself wandering outside. She went down the hall and stopped at the stairs, looking up towards the third floor, where she had not been. She didn't think anyone would mind so much, so she started going up.

There were only two doors up here. One was locked, but the other gave way easily, opening up to a massive attic.

Instantly, Hannah fell in love with it. This had to be the most (or the only) interesting part of the house, in spite of the webs and dust. She stepped across the floor, looking over every wall and corner like a curious child. Gigantic pieces of art, old toys that must have belonged to Macks and Ruth, books, rugs, broken furniture. Why did they keep all this instead of throwing or giving them away? Were the Droys really that sentimental? Perhaps the mother was.

Hannah peeped into some boxes, finding old letters (all dull correspondences with friends), shoes and clothes. Some of the dresses were still in good condition, and she couldn't help holding one up to her frame. It was a stunning white lacy piece that actually looked her size. What would Christopher and Judy think of this work?

She walked over to one of the walls, where they'd left a cracked standing mirror as tall as she was. She placed the dress over her own, gazing at how she looked. Almost a different person, she thought, amazed.

She heard a creak at the door, and turned in sudden panic. But it was just Macks, looking bewildered as he stared at her. "What are you doing?" he asked, but he didn't sound angry. "Why are you in here?"

"I was … looking around."

He came inside, no sign of Suzanne anywhere behind him. "That's my sister's wedding dress."

"Oh," Hannah went, holding it at length. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"Actually, it looked quite nice against you."

"Why is it here?"

"Where else would it be?"

"Didn't she want to keep it?"

"Not really, I suppose. What would she do with it, after all? Certainly not use it again."

"But still?"

"My sister's a practical sort. She only brought what she needed to the new house."

"If I owned something as lovely as this … " she sighed.

"You could."

"No, I couldn't," she said, quietly laughing off the comment.

"Yes, you could," he purposely emphasized every word for her.

She said nothing, focusing on her reflection. He didn't know what he was talking about, she told herself.

Macks gazed at her for awhile, before stepping closer. He stood next to her, his reflection joining hers in the mirror. It was interesting to see how they looked together, a bit similar with their equal height, broad shoulders and light hair. Except Macks had a face to charm, while she … well, she was just Hannah, her features ordinary, her frame a bit too sturdy in build.

Slowly, Macks rested a hand high on her shoulder, near her neck, his palm warm on her bare skin. She tensed, knowing he had felt it.

"Tell me, Hannah," his voice fell into her ear. "What would you do if I were to kiss you at this very moment?"

"I wouldn't let you."

"You did last night."

She gave him a sharp look. "That was only on the cheek and – and you caught me off guard."

"Yet, you didn't seem to mind." Smoothly, he slipped around her side, standing before her and blocking the mirror – blocking the image of their very different appearances. "Of course, that wasn't a real kiss."

Hastily, she backed up, clutching his sister's dress to her as if it were a shield. "Macks, please."

"What? You're not afraid, are you?"

She turned away, folding up the dress and returning it to its box. She was about to leave when she heard him add, "Let me guess. You've never been kissed before. Am I right?"

She looked up sharply, showing a flustered scowl. "That's none of your business."

"Excuse my curiosity," he apologized, but he had a smirk on his face. He was learning to read her all too well.

Without another word, she left the attic, meaning to hide away for the rest of the afternoon, even if it meant having nothing to do.

Macks didn't come looking for her, so she had peace until dusk when some of the servants came knocking, saying that Mrs. Droy had ordered them to help her look 'presentable' for her night at Alyssa's.

Hannah didn't object, thought she couldn't have cared less about her hair or her clothes at the moment. She couldnt help thinking about Macks, and how he still hadn't given up trying to 'conquer' her. Could he sense that he'd begun to wear her down? It frustrated her to think that he didn't respect her enough to stop his games. Macks could have been the perfect man were he not such a flirt. He was kind, thoughtful, funny … but then, what did it matter? She had to remember what he was.

When the girls were almost done with her, someone knocked on the door, making her heart jump in her throat. But it was only Suzanne who poked her head in. "Oh, Hannah," she went, looking surprised. She came forward, nodding in approval. "Very nice."

Hannah glanced at herself in the mirror, smiling faintly. "Thank you." The girls had indeed done good work on her – having put her hair up in white ribbons, and suited her in a dress of the same shade, with a broad neck and prettily puffed sleeves. It made her look younger than she was, and a bit too 'sweet', but she did feel attractive.

"Macks is waiting downstairs," Suzanne said, as the girls finished up.

Hannah nodded, hoping she didn't look tense or nervous. She stood up, and Suzanne took her gently by the elbow, leading her downstairs. Why did all of this feel so formal and unnecessary, she wondered to herself? They were only going to see Alyssa and Stefan after all, not going to some ball.

Macks stood waiting near the door, all cleaned up, wearing a loose white shirt and tan leggings, much more relaxed-looking than either of them. He turned as they appeared, seeming to only look at Hannah even though Suzanne had dressed more colorfully. "You both look beautiful," he said, a little quietly.

Hannah didn't meet his eye, but Suzanne smiled in pleasure. "Thank you, Macks."

The servant held the door open, and they stepped out to see a carriage waiting for them. Macks held out a hand, offering to help the girls inside. Suzanne went first, then when it was Hannah's turn, she hesitated. "I can manage," she insisted, and she saw a half-smile on his face. She gripped the side of the carriage, putting her foot on the step. The whole carriage shook as she lifted herself, and for a short, ridiculous moment, she imagined the whole thing toppling over, thanks to her big, graceless frame.

In spite of what she'd said, Macks instinctively moved to help her, grasping not her hand, but her side, just above her hip. She was startled, but he eased her inside before she could protest. She landed clumsily next to Suzanne, folding her arms protectively over herself while Macks sat across from them. She stubbornly looked out the window as the door was shut and the carriage started up.

"So," Suzanne said, looking to her. "Are you excited, Hannah?"

"Of course. I have missed Alyssa very much. I hope she's doing well."

"From her letters, I would say, yes, well enough. And she hasn't been found by her family so far, so that is a good thing."

Letters? Alyssa had written to Suzanne but not her? She couldn't help feeling disappointed at that.

"I only wish they would hurry up and start a family soon," Suzanne gushed.

"I'm sure it's been difficult, with everything that's happened."

"Yes, but a family's not complete without children. And you know, a woman can only wait so long. I mean, you understand, don't you?"

Hannah frowned, a little insulted. Did Suzanne think their situations were similar? At least she had married before. Then again, Hannah couldn't imagine what it must have been like to lose her husband after only a few years of marriage, so she kept quiet.

"When do you think we could see Ruth, Macks?" Suzanne asked him. "I would love to meet little Timothy."

"I could write her a letter tonight. Perhaps she'll be able to come and see us tomorrow."

"He must be, what, almost a year old now?"

"That's right."

"Hopefully, her next child will be a girl."

"That would be nice. Unfortunately, I'm hardly around enough."

"Well, perhaps you should consider coming back to Dyon," she recommended. "Perhaps I should consider moving as well, now that Stefan and Alyssa are here."

Macks didn't say anything, and Hannah found herself staring at him as if to figure out what his thoughts were. Was it possible? Would he really ever move back to Dyon? It seemed right, considering that his family and now his best friend were in this city. But she hated the very idea. Somehow, she couldn't imagine Macks leaving Dalen for good, couldn't imagine herself and Rio never being able to see him again. It was strange, but the thought was somehow even more unbearable than losing Alyssa.

The carriage started to slow then, coming to a stop in the middle of a streetful of drab housing blocks that went up five or six floors.

The three of them climbed out, and Macks led the way inside one of the buildings. He checked a slip of paper in his pocket – probably a note or letter from Stefan and Alyssa, heading up the stairs.

It was not so bad inside – the walls were painted and the floors clean, but it was a far cry from the colorful, spacious house Stefan and Alyssa used to own in Dalen.

"Which floor are they on?" Suzanne asked, holding up her dress as she climbed.

"Four."

Suzanne sighed audibly in answer, and Macks went past Hannah to offer her a hand.

Irritated, Hannah went up on her own, waiting for them a little while once she had got to the fourth floor. Another look passed between her and Macks, while Suzanne paused to catch her breath. "My goodness," she wheezed. "Hannah, aren't you tired?"

"Not at all," she said, with some satisfaction.

Macks, with Suzanne's hand still on his arm, made his way to one of the doors, knocking firmly. They heard quick footsteps, and the door opened to an unfamiliar face – a young servant girl.

"Oh," she blushed, her eye going between Macks and Suzanne with some awe. "Please, do come in."

Hannah trailed after them, and the girl gave her a quick, friendly smile. A less impressed reaction, but polite all the same.

"They're here!" she heard a voice, a kind, familiar voice she had not heard in a long time. She turned, watching as Alyssa, looking as real and lovely as ever, threw her arms around Suzanne. Behind her, Stefan appeared, probably just home from work. He looked at Macks for a moment, then smiled and hugged him as well.

And as always, Hannah was the odd one out. She went forward, waiting until Alyssa saw her. Her good friend stopped, doing a short gasp of surprise. "Hannah?"

"Yes," she said, smiling shyly.

"My goodness, for a moment, I didn't recognize you. Come here," she said, and Hannah gladly stepped forward, feeling Alyssa's arms wrap around her. She felt so welcomed in that moment, she almost started tearing up. "You have no idea how happy I am to have all of you here, together," Alyssa gushed. "I've missed you all so badly."

"And I," Suzanne said, smiling genuinely. "I'm even farther away than Macks here."

"That's why I appreciate you coming."

"This is … quite a nice place," Suzanne commented, looking round.

In fact, the apartment was small and gray, but they could tell Alyssa had done her best to cheer the place up, with pretty furniture, lace curtains, and flower-bunches that looked like they'd taken hours of arranging.

"Come, we have dinner ready," Alyssa said, gesturing to the side of the room, at a table for six.

Suzanne pulled down her cap, and Hannah thought it was just as well; her feathers had been practically tickling the low ceiling.

They moved to the dinner table, where Stefan pulled out a chair for one of them. Since Hannah was nearest, she accepted, sitting herself down. Alyssa sat next to her, just by the head of the table, while Macks and Suzanne took seats opposite.

"This looks really good," Suzanne commented, as Alyssa started scooping vegetables for them.

"Jenny and I spent all afternoon on this," she said proudly. "Although she took care of the chicken. I didn't dare ruin it!"

"Well," Suzanne went, looking impressed. "You've come a long way, haven't you? I remember we used to swear we'd never set foot in a kitchen."

"You should've seen me the first time I used a knife. I was terrified I was going to lose one of my fingers," she laughed. "But well, when you have time to yourself at home, and someone like Jenny to teach you, I thought it was time I learned."

"And I understand you have a position on the local guard?" Suzanne asked, looking over at Stefan.

"Yes."

"And how has it been?"

"Much easier, for sure. But much less interesting as well." He nodded in Macks' direction. "I feel like one of our boys. No more privileges."

"At least you're only responsible for your own self."

"That's true. And you? Do you feel ready to start pulling your hair out?"

He chuckled lightly. "I'm still getting used to everything, but I think it'll be alright."

"You might even end up doing a better job of it than me."

"Why do men always have to be so competitive?" Alyssa said, in mock disapproval.

"It's how we do our best, my dear."

"And besides, women compete just as men do," Macks added. "Just not for the same things."

"Really?" Suzanne seemed happy to challenge him.

"You all want to be the most beautiful, have the best clothes and jewels, the richest husband – "

"Macks, we're not all like that," she tutted. "A good number of us know that such things are meaningless."

"A good number also think the opposite."

"Well, yes. Unfortunately, there will always be people like that."

"And I know plenty."

"You're referring to your family?" Stefan asked curiously.

"They can be."

"I'm sure they're not as bad as mine," Alyssa said, reminding all of them.

"No," Macks agreed. "Certainly not."

"I should like to see your parents again. We've been in Dyon for months now, but we've not met with them yet."

"We should have them over when Ruth comes," Suzanne suggested to Macks, lightly touching his arm.

"Yes, I think that's a good idea."

Alyssa turned, focusing on Hannah. "And how about you? How's Rio?"

"He's doing well," she answered. "Um, and we found our mother, with Macks' help."

She sat up, surprised. "You found your mother?"

"She was ill when we found her, but we managed to help her recover, and she's doing quite well now."

"Oh, Hannah, that's wonderful!" she went. "You must have been so happy."

It was not exactly the right word, but she nodded.

"Is she staying with you now?"

"Well, no. She decided to go back to our home in Chell for the moment."

"Oh. And you … ?"

"I'm still in Dalen. Still at the tailor's."

"Are they any good?" Suzanne butted in. "This tailor?"

"Oh, yes. They do lovely dresses."

"Do you get to keep any?" Alyssa asked with a wink.

"No, I don't do that."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. Doesn't really feel right."

"Well, if I ever come back to Dalen, I have to come visit you there."

"And I as well," Suzanne put in.

"I do quite miss Dalen."

"Then come back," Hannah said, a little strongly.

"I'd love to, but you must understand it would be a risk."

She kept quiet, disappointed but not all that surprised by her friend's answer.

"Alyssa is afraid to even leave the house," Stefan revealed.

"What? That's not true."

"Alyssa, I know you. I can feel it when I'm with you."

Everyone became silent, eyeing her.

"We can't be afraid forever. We're far away now."

"I know. But how could I ever really forget? One of my closest friends could have been hurt because of me."

"Please," Macks interrupted, before Hannah could. "Let's not talk about such things."

"I agree," she added quietly.

"I'm sorry," Alyssa murmured. "I'm ruining dinner, aren't I?"