"It was."

Ember stands straight at attention, helmet tucked under her arm, her knight's finery hidden under the heavy ceremonial cloak. Outside, the low rumble of munitions; the tea quakes in its cups. Her hair falls lank over one side of her face, leaving one green eye looking up at the dead empress. At her mother. At her Shogun.

"You were right that I wasn't ready, looking back," she admits, and it's a knife to her own ribs. The words collapse to the floor as soon as they leave her mouth. Do they even reach her mother? "I wasn't good enough," and it's like tearing out her own spine. She opens her mouth to admit what they both know - that she's not even worthy of being the heir - and she flinches away from it. It hurts too much. It hurts too much.

"I am here because of my allies," she continues, though her voice is frail, trembling. "The Starsong Privateers, who saw me across the underworld and beyond. The Order of Hermes, who taught me how ships work and how to ask questions of the universe. The Alcedi, who were brave and true and got me to the Lethe. Alexa, who stayed behind, who..." Her hand, which once held command seals, shakes. She forges on. "The Silver Divers, who welcomed me into their pack when I didn't even know myself. Mynx and Beautiful and Beljani, my sisters-in-law in moonlight. And Bella Hostilius Mosaic, herself... my wife. My huntress. My everything."

Her cheeks are wet. A mile distant, a war howl reverberates through helmet amplifiers. A mile distant, there is an explosion of butterflies.

"I'm useless," she says, "except that everyone's still following my dream. That's all. And that's why I had to go even if I wasn't... even if you didn't..."

Her voice gives out.