All of her weight is resting on Redana's back. Cool. Firm. Stable. It supports her where her own power has deserted her. Someone picked her up out of the dirt. Someone picked her up out of the Box. Someone holds her still.

Even now.

Her breath comes in shaky sighs. Her vision is dotted with starlight and dancing shadows that exist nowhere but between her retinas and her malfunctioning brain. She cannot stop the drool from falling from her lips, can barely raise her neck to look at the Shogun.

But even so.

She raises her hand into the air. Though her shoulder strains with the effort. Though her hand trembles horribly just from being held aloft. She lifts it high. To ask for... no. To command silence.

"Save it," she half drawls and half slurs in a voice like a slow dragging knife that cuts across her exhaustion even as it emphasizes it, "For your pups."

Bella's arm falls limp against her side. Her other hand pushes against Redana's shoulder, and though she shakes even harder, though her ragged sighs and hissing fill the comparative silence of the space, all the same she rises. Her knees that wish to buckle under her hold up the sky instead. This must be her next impossible labor, she supposes.

It's those eyes. Those same eyes every time, that have forced her to pick herself back up. She looks one more time for their light, and turns her sneering face back to the woman standing in front of them.

"I don't give a shit about war. I don't give a shit about peace either. I'm not Her Majesty, after all. What amuses or motivates your pack of dumbasses doesn't concern me at all. I'm only here for one thing."

Her first step is small and pathetic. But her second one is longer. Her third is the perfection of both maid and Praetor. She turns and offers her hand to Ember, to Redana, low enough that she can hide how much it still shakes.

"Enough of this. Come on. We're... we're going. To go see Her."