When it no longer seemed probable that the Empress would send Fen to bed, a weight had seemed to lift from the princess’s shoulders. It brought a calm, easy smile to her lips—subtle amid the shining light of the moon—but welcomed in the comforting presence of the empress.

Yuè was not her mother; however, there was an air of motherly instinct she had always noticed within the Empress. A softened demeanor that cradled a young girl’s vulnerabilities within the velveteen hands of what might have been a parent, provoking feelings of support, surety, and confidence within its embrace. Fen had often felt her own walls dissolve in the Empress’s presence. Not entirely—as that was something not even her own biological mother could do—but somewhat.

Enough that Fen would at least give the Empress a taste of her own worries and thoughts when the situation called for it, and would simultaneously accept what motherly affections she might have offered.

As long as they did not encroach on what freedom Fen believed she had.

Now, I don’t think that is possible, Fen offered through a half-hearted smile, You? A sorry Empress? The sky would have to fall for that to be true. Her tail swayed behind her, a flick of amusement swimming behind her mossy stare as she shook her head. The people love you no matter what world we are in.

Or even if the Empress needed sleep.

Who would’ve thought we’d be home one day and in another world the next, She added after a thought, tail twitching in idle thought.

However, when the mention of her own mother was made, Fen turned her gaze to the stars. I’m not sure, she admitted, I have not seen her…But I believe my father can feel her. He had seemed confident that their mother was around when Fen had first arrived.

Things have been so busy, she offered through a light-hearted smile, one easily made to mask whatever emotions brewed beneath, I’m sure if she is around, we have just been passing ships in the night.