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As the beaten up old Cadillac Fleetwood 75 pulled up into the driveway with a sputtering bang, Giselle wished her parents would embrace her.

It wasn't the first time she had wished it, and it wouldn't be the last time, but Giselle's parents did not embrace her. They did not embrace each other, they did not embrace at all. They did not even shout at her, but instead glanced in the rearview mirror, making sure she was still there, devouring her with their eyes and making up for all those lost glances they had missed in her absence. Petrova affection was quiet, subtle, but the first time Giselle saw her father's blue eyes reflected in the mirror glass, she gave him a wan smile.

He did not smile back. She was missed, but not, apparently, forgiven. Not yet.

Her father moved to open the door, but she waved him away with a hoarse "No, Papa." Proving herself worthy again, fighting off all the damage those missing months had done. They would meet later, consult, get the historical facts straight (although she could never tell her father the whole story, not honestly, knowing what the whole story entailed). For now she could open the door, could shakily step out, could walk up the steps of the house she remembered growing up in, and enter, flanked by her parents like they were her guard.

And, under cover of night, stealthily as Napoleon returning to France, Giselle Petrova returned to her citadel.

Giselle felt the slap, painful, incriminating, and then the words, washing over her. Tate's voice, unfamiliar after all this time, shouting the damnable offenses that her parents were probably listing in their heads whenever they looked at her.

Dead, died, dead, dead. A year, gone, that was new to Giselle at least, and then the question, nearly lost in the angry rap sheet being vocally thrust at her.

"I am going to my room." she answered quietly, and when Tate didn't stop, she said "No more."

It was ineffective. The accusations continued and every word stabbed. At first Giselle felt guilt, but as it continued, the guilt curdled into anger. This wasn't right. This was inefficient, and furthermore, she had succeeded. She had fought her way out, gotten Elke out alive, and she sure as hell hadn't seen Tate holding the line.

Finally, when words failed, Giselle raised her own hand, returning her best friend's slap with one of her own.

"General." she commanded, cold blue eyes staring into Tate's hazel ones. At first she thought her parents would stop her, would chide her, but this was politics that didn't concern either of them. There was tension, stifling tension, and then Giselle broke it, along with eye contact with Tate, offering a simple statement to appease her.

"What I am doing is going to my room." she announced to the general population. Then to Tate, she added, "You may follow me."

If Tate looked like she was going to break down, Giselle managed until she opened the door to her room.

Nothing had changed, her bed was neat and made, and everything was the way she had left it one year ago. For one heartstopping moment, everything that happened in Barren Pines seemed fake, a wild delusion, but her face still hurt from where Tate slapped it, and she still had her bracelet from the hospital around her wrist, reminding her what had happened.

But here was her room, precisely the same as it had always been, and Giselle sat on her bed like she had been sitting on the hospital bed just an hour ago.

She stared at her hands mechanically, rubbing the bracelet. Sitting there, rubbing the bracelet, not saying anything. A broken doll, a pale ghost of Giselle Petrova that perhaps she hadn't wanted her parents to see, or perhaps the room had merely uncovered, stripping back her armour for the world to see.

Or rather, just Tate.

And there they were, the conqueror and her general, stripped to specters of the selves they had been in the hallway. Giselle nodded at what Tate said, not really listening. She already knew it was her father. Things under rocks could have guessed that it was her father, but something needed to be said, something to fill the gap left by that year.

Tate stopped speaking and then it was Giselle's turn. She let the void in for a moment, absorbed it, and then filled it with her own pointless chatter. "It's not a history I can relate yet." she admitted. She would let Tate think she didn't feel comfortable. She didn't. But she needed to talk to Hero first, to the other Zodiacs before she could even tell Tate something that wasn't totally fabricated. Hoarsely, she announced, "I haven't played Age of Empires in months. I haven't eaten goat cheese in months. I haven't written an essay in months."

"I haven't heard your voice in months."

Thankfully, the hospital staff had ensured that she had at least showered in months.

"We knew they were traitors anyway." Giselle said shakily, as Tate named names like the dutiful general she was. This was not the first time Mariska and Iuri had wronged them. Giselle had no doubt that it would not be the last.

"Don't." she said as Tate began to cry on her bed. It reminded her too much of Elke, and she hadn't known how to deal with Elke. Elke had been a hassle, a tiresome burden, but Tate was someone she could trust. Her head hurt too much for Elkeishness, or rather, it didn't hurt, but it felt stuffy, like suddenly her brain was cotton balls as she tried to recalibrate it from survival mode to accepting the fact that she was home and, for the time being, safe. Either way, she was in no condition to handle messy things. No condition to handle tears.

Since it was Tate, she reached out and touched her, fingertips lightly brushing over Tate's hand. It was only for a moment, but it was enough to prove that she was solid, and it was longer than Giselle would have made physical contact with anyone else.

"I know you did." It was like with her father and the room. Things under rocks knew that Tate had looked for her, but there was the void to fill, and more than that, it had to be confirmed. It had been confirmed. Tate was still her General, and thus, Giselle owed her something for her loyalty. She was the one who had left, even if unintentionally, she had betrayed the trust.

"I let myself be deceived. Will you take me back, General?"

If it was the other way around, Tate would have had to beg the same question. Giselle could not expect Tate's support after a year away, but she could request it.

Giselle's mind flashed to the zodiacs.

Tate, the zodiacs, Tate, the zodiacs, back and forth. Who did she owe fealty to? The zodiacs were her strongest allies, her oldest allies.

They were also Mackenzie, Andeon, Tara, Elke, and some people whose names she didn't even actually know. Just as she wasn't Libra, they weren't the people Libra remembered. Giselle would always owe her loyalty to Tate above all others. Libra could owe her loyalty to whomever she wished. As Giselle had to pay for Libra's power, she would keep the obligation, but it would always be Libra who left Tate. Not Giselle.

That was how Giselle justified the "Never," that she knew was just an empty word. She was no longer entirely Tate's. It would hurt her later, she was sure, but this was now, and she could still justify it. She would justify it for as long as she could, because Giselle was not good at the messy things.

"When did this happen?" she asked half amusedly, seizing the semicasual statement like a life preserver. "Did your grief send you into a fit of Byronesque brilliance?"

Giselle laughed, weakly, desperately, but it was still a laugh and still coming from her mouth. When had she last laughed? Really laughed? Not during Barren Pines, not even before the place became a death trap.

Once in what had apparently been a year. That was infrequent even for Giselle, who was hardly talented at finding the humour in situations. "Well done, General. Maybe I should vanish again so you can finish senior year with a bang?" With a whoomph of air, she, too collapsed on the bed, and only the hospital bracelet hitting the mattress reminded her that this wasn't just another sleepover with her trusted ally.

"Rubies," she said, looking at the necklace, reaching out to touch what Mariska had expected to replace her and tiredly thinking that, all things considered, aquamarine would have been more fitting. How odd, to think that she had become something to get over. How odd that she had become merely a roadblock in Tate's life and a wound in her family's past. Was that all that would be left the next time she died? She suddenly felt exhausted, there was too much to think about. Too much to take in when she was laying on the wonderfully soft blankets with her best friend, just like nothing wrong had ever happened, save for the damn bracelet.

"You know, I think..." she murmured, taking the necklace and holding it up to her chest, "That they make rather a nice set." Wiggling her wrist with the bracelet on it for emphasis, she rolled her head over to glance at Tate. "Your opinion, General?"

Tate was Giselle's sister. Tate was Giselle's best friend.

Her only friend, sometimes. Since that fateful day in ballet class when they had stopped trying to fight each other for the same spot on the barre and started teasing some poor girl with bad posture, an unbreakable alliance had flourished to such an extent that when Giselle referred to her 'General' there was only one living person she could be talking about. It was not a nice friendship. It was not a pretty friendship or a heartwarming friendship, but it was solid, more solid than any other relationship in Giselle's life, save, perhaps, her relationship with her parents.

Platonic, all of them. Romance was too shaky to build an alliance on. Romance never lasted, Henry VIII was proof enough of that.

Her smile faded and she shook her head, unusually loose hair brushing her face. "I have to pack to go to Crystal in a few days, General. You know I have to keep my own grades up." This was where Libra began to interfere. The princess was staying in the dormitories, and Libra had obligations, she had to stay near the princess if given the opportunity, which she had been. Scholarships to Crystal were hard to obtain, but Giselle's parents had driven her to work towards a scholarship since she began her education. She had no excuse not to live at the school, not when half the Zodiacs were there and her trip was paid for.

Looking back, Giselle would think that this was when the price of her power really began to hurt. "I've made plans to visit." she swore. "I'll come by Meadowview at least once a week and home for the weekends."

There was a pause, a horrible pause, and then she added "Monarchy is an outdated form of government based on unsubstantiated claims to power. Even if I were a princess of ice, I would have to totally overhaul my country's governmental system if I wanted my country to run efficiently after I stepped down from power." Giselle may have been gone for a year, she may have looked like s**t, but with a comment like that, she was definitely still Giselle.

"As I would expect of you if the roles were reversed, General." she said simply. It didn't matter that the circumstances of her disappearance were beyond her control. She, as far as Tate could tell, had not fought to contact her or get out. And she couldn't tell her the truth, which was a betrayal in and of itself.

"Please stay the night. I'm so tired."

Of being without Tate. Of being without a confidante, of not being home, but more than that, just bone achingly weary. She wanted nothing more than to surround herself with familiar things and relax, just for a moment.

"Wait-" said Giselle, straightening herself up on the bed as Tate closed the door.

It was too late. Giselle's hands clenched again, and she looked down at them, clenching them, unclenching them, just like at the hospital.

That fine meant it wasn't fine. And it wasn't fine. Giselle would be the first to admit it wasn't fine, but she had a price she had to pay now. She had come out alive, but there was a debt owed. Power did not come cheap. She looked around the familiar room, the room she would only be sleeping in for a few more days, the one she would rather be staying in longer. If she stayed at home, she could have avoided this fight. If she stayed home, she would be safe in her citadel, safe with all her things and her General and her family.

But there was a price to pay. And living at Crystal was just the first installment.