[i]It felt stupid to keep looking out the window like she kept doing, but Bella couldn't help herself. If she strained her eyes from where she was she swore she could almost make out the edges of the palace grounds where safety ended and the death the Master always promised her waited beyond. Where she'd be going any minute now, just as soon as somebody noticed what she did. She didn't mean it. All she wanted was to give Redana her birthday present. She'd just... been running to fast, is all. Everything had taken so long to finish and she knew she had to deliver her gift before Redana's training session that afternoon, because after that there'd be no time. Dany would need a bath, and then she'd have to have her hair done and get helped into her new dress and then there'd be the [b]party[/b], during which she'd have no time for Bella on account of all the important guests and after which she'd have no time for anything on account of all the complaining she'd spend the rest of the night doing before finally falling asleep. And it was so important that she get the timing right. There was so much to say. So much she needed to confess. She'd been working on everything for months, running the conversation over and over and over in her head while she worked on her chores until it seemed almost boring. Stealing the paints she needed bit by bit, in such small quantities that nobody would miss them, but enough that she could experiment and get the colors right. It's not like she had any talent or training in painting, that's not what anybody turned to her breed for, and in any case real Art was something only humans knew how to do. But something as simple as the night sky? Even a screwup like Bella could get that right, with enough time and tries. And she had. And she had. But it didn't matter anymore. She'd forgotten all the words. She'd crushed her painting (and looking at what was left of the torn canvas, she can't even figure out why she'd thought it was pretty enough to give to Redana in the first place). She had nothing left, now. Nothing. All because she'd been running too fast, and slipped going around a corner. And on top of that she'd gone and knocked over a statue and spilled its ceremonial armor everywhere, and now she had minutes (if she was lucky) to figure out how everything fit back together or she was doomed! So this goes, and then this over, no no no! What does she, does this go... come on, come ON, you stupid display! This is her life here, don't you understand? This is "Bella?" "Gyaaaa!" Bella toppled over onto the ground with a fresh clatter of metal on marble, and looked up at the concerned face of Redana while desperately trying to smooth out her comically bushed up tail. She had no idea if she was trying to squeak or snarl, or by some daring new combination of the two of them vibrate through the floor and disappear forever. "Are you, uh, ok?" the princess asked through a sweetly concerned smile "I'm fine! Er, th-that is, I am fine, Milady. Perfectly fine. I was simply... cleaning. While I had some spare time." "Haha, from here it kinda looks like you wound up doing the opposite!" "W-well you startled me!" Bella squeaked and blushed with equal fury. "Haha, I'm sure!" Redana paused just long enough to make the awkwardness a physical thing before adding, "You want any help?" "N-no, I couldn't possibly!" Bella arms shook worse than ever. The breastplate rattled noisily against her claws, which made it feel like she'd taken up playing the cymbals more than any kind of cleaning. It was impossible, just impossible, to get everything back together. But she had to try. If she could just get this... "Oh hey, what's that?" "Nothing!" Bella's blood ran cold. She turned her head so slowly she barely seemed to move. Her mouth felt painfully dry. Please, if any of you gods had ever loved her, please don't let Dany have found it. But of course she had. That was such a stupid thing to pray for. Which god had ever loved her? Which god had ever cared enough to keep the bad things from happening to her? She turned, and saw Redana reaching for her ruined painting. "It's nothing!" she repeated, more frantic than before. "I like the colors. Here, just lemme--" "I said you CAN'T!" And before she knew what she was doing, before she could stop herself, Bella pounced. All her secret training as a bodyguard had left her motions fluid and her form perfect. Of course they had. The trainers would have killed her if she'd been anything less. And now they'd kill her anyway, for being dumb enough to turn her talents on Imperial royalty. Bella crashed into Redana hard enough to knock over four other displays, and pinned her to the ground. Her eyes were wild, desperate, and filled with hurt as she snatched the painting away. "Idiot! Dummy!" she sniffled, "What part of 'nothing' is so hard to understand?" "Bella, please..." She took the painting, and she ran. That voice meant it was time to run away forever. As she ran, she tore her claws through the crushed and ruined canvas until even a magic eyeball wouldn't be enough to figure out what it was originally supposed to be. The tears stung her eyes, and her sandals pounded every step across the hard floor straight through her legs and all the way up her spine. She ran, in spite of how hard it was to see, in spite of how much it hurt, and in spite of the voice calling for her to stop. She ran, because to run was to live, and anything else was death. She ran. But being taller, older, and having thirty seconds' head start didn't make her a match for Redana. Bella hissed and squirmed, but she couldn't keep herself from getting pinned to a wall before she'd even made it out of the hallway. Like an idiot, she looked into her best friend's eyes. Why was it so much worse not to see anger there? "Pl-please don't..." "Bella, what's going on?" "You're gonna throw me away! I broke it! I ruined, I! I'm sorry! I don't wanna go back! I don't wanna die! Please Mistress, please! I'll never do it again, so please! Please!" Bella's voice was high and strained to the point where it was almost impossible to make out her desperate begging. She flailed and squirmed and pounded her fists against her princess' shoulders to get away from her, but kept her claws so carefully tucked away. And maybe that's what really saved her. She'd never know, even years later, what did it. Why did Dany embrace her like she did? "Hey. Hey, Bella... Come on. You're not in trouble." "I'm... not?" she sniffled, and tried to pull away some more. "You're not." Redana's voice was firm and even. "But I'm a bad girl!" "Oh please, you could never be a bad girl. What was all of this about?" "I..." Bella choked on her words. Her face flushed uncomfortably from being this close, "That painting was..." "Uhuh?" "Fr-from an admirer. It came and it was, uh, I mean someone [b]asked[/b] me to deliver it to you. B-but I thought it was suspicious so I..." "...Uhuh?" said Redana with her voice full of confusion about how a painting might be dangerous. "I don't know! I just, I thought it was... poison or something! And I wanted to check it before giving it to you, but then you picked it up and I panicked and then!" "Oh Bella, you silly kitten. Nothing bad's ever gonna happen here, ok? Nothing's gonna happen here at all. Not with Mom watching everything like a pair of hawks all the time. Believe me. You've got nothing to worry about." "But I! I could have hurt you!" "Psh, you? Please, Bella, you couldn't hurt a butterfly even if I ordered you to. How're you gonna hurt me?" Bella hiccoughed, and watched Redana's face carefully. There was no lie in that smile. There never was. As far as she was concerned, there never could be. But she always checked anyway, just in case. "You don't think I'm a bad girl?" she asked, patting around for something proper to blow her nose on. Redana put her hand on Bella's head, and stroked her hair just behind her ears until the sniffling turned into shaky purrs. "I don't," she said, "And I never will." Bella shook her head. Where was that handkerchief? Damn it, she looked like such a mess! All the careful practice, and this is what they got to say to each other today? She'd never get another chance! "But what if," she stammered as she drifted even further away from the words she'd wanted so desperately to say, "What if I was?" "You're not." "But what if I was?" she was shouting now, "What if I did something way worse than this? You'd get rid of me, wouldn't you? You'd get a, a better kitten! You would! You will! Because I!!" Bella had gotten a lot of hugs from Redana in her life. Dany was a super huggy person, when you got down to it. But never one like this. Never one so soft and warm and [b]safe[/b] like this. She was so surprised she couldn't keep herself from hugging back. And for several long minutes neither of them spoke. And neither of them let go, until Bella had uncoiled enough to remember decorum. She drew away quietly, and folded her hands in front of her. "Bella, you are not a bad girl." "I... disagree with Mistress' assessment." Eyes on the floor. Words clipped to keep them from betraying her. She couldn't say it, after all. She'd never say it. Ever. She wouldn't risk ruining things ever again. "And if you were," Redana went on, "I wouldn't throw you away. Bella, you're my best friend! If you did something I didn't like I'd just talk to you about it! And we'd work it out, you and me. Just like we're doing now." "Do you promise?" Bella's eyes were wide, but full of hope. The shape of a window caught her eye, and she looked away from her princess and back across the horizon where death and danger waited for their chance to get her. "Gosh, you're such a sillyhead sometimes. Yes, I promise! There's nothing you could do that would ever make me throw you away! Now come on, we're gonna miss my..."[/i] The pattern of the beads remind her of the stars. There's not enough color in the dress, but she can't help drawing the comparison, the longer she looks. It sits on the mannequin and mocks her with all its misshapen tassels dangling at weird angles and the threads she couldn't quite snip cleanly without undoing the whole damn thing again. Looking like the night sky in the shape of a badly fitted evening gown. And the words echo in her brain again, the other promise of the orbit of her thoughts. Her teeth grind together in an ugly snarl. Never. Nothing. Sillyhead. Her scream echoes through the hangar, and she pounces on the dress. A few seconds of horrifying violence, and all her efforts lie shattered on the floor. She shakes, and heaves, and coughs like she's about to cry. But of course, she doesn't. Not sick, discarded, broken her. She shoots Apollo the most vicious, scathing look she dares, and storms away deeper into the lonely corridors of the Yakanov.