[ The heel of her boot echoed along the hall, in this chill hall of ice and light, she stepped toward the sound of...commotion. Well, not quite commotion, it was... sound. As she walked -- as her reflection started to join in the repeated ones here -- she took stock of the myriad of lives stretched out before her. It was pure instinct, of course, that led her to look at these lives before her, like she could divine a story from it. The young man from humble beginnings, the noble in a fine robe, and the shrouded one who spoke to the boy on this side. The real side.

She wondered if he noticed her? She stopped, some meters away, and listened, for the mirror was not wrong, but neither was the boy. After all, where would a pattern come from, if not repeated history? ]

Neither of you are truly wrong, you know.

[ She said, with all of the confidence of a woman who went where she wished and said what she wished. She looked toward the mirror, her own golden eyes flashed in the dim light, and the red of her chevalier's jacket nearly glowed in the reflected light. ]

But really, it's only been a few weeks, dear. Even I, resolute in my direction, took that long to harmonize. Could we not give him a little slack?

[ She says it, but she waits, coiled. Would this one lash out too, like her own had? ]