Guillemette informed Toastini that she was more interested in attempting sleep than eating breakfast and excused herself to her room. Toastini made her way down stairs to the dining hall alone.

It was fairly late in the morning, so most diners had finished with breakfast and were now carrying on with their daily business. It wasn’t hard for Toastini to notice that Aksel was not in the dining room as he said he would be. She frowned slightly and tracked down a servant.

Excuse me, ma’am. She tugged on the older woman’s sleeve to get her attention. I am looking for...a friend. He is tall, wearing a dark coat...no, no coat, just a white shirt. Toastini bit her lip and scowled.

The woman knitted her grey brows together and responded in very heavily accented English, Sorry, little English. Here. This for you, I think. The woman thrust a piece of parchment into Toastini’s hand.

Toastini looked down at the parchment. It was an announcement for the Honfleur Christmas Festival. Or so she determined, as it was written in French naturally. Her scowl deepened. What is this? I don’t want this. She held it out to the servant.

The woman clucked her tongue and grabbed the poster. No. Here. She flipped the parchment over. On the back was a handwritten message.

Elskling Toastini,
My crew found me as I ordered the breakfast that we were to share. Our ship is ready for departure. Please enjoy the breakfast. I will come back to Le Ferme to say goodbye when I am able.
~Aksel

The servant pointed to a set table, complete with breakfast platter and piping hot mug of tea. Toastini eyeballed it with lust. She rolled the parchment and tucked it under her arm. She grabbed the mug and took a healthy swig, burning her tongue in the process. She looked at the food and hastily grabbed a small loaf of bread. I will be right back! She called out with urgency to the woman and took off running.

Loaf of bread clutched in one hand, poster in the other, Toastini ran down the hill and toward the docks.

Mademoiselle! Would you like your horse? Yves called out to her retreating body.

While the horse would have been faster transportation, she didn’t want to waste the precious moments waiting for Yves to retrieve the horse from the stables. The mere thought of standing idly in wait caused Toastini to pick up her pace. Her heart pounded and lungs felt as though they might burst.

The sun shined down on Toastini, positioned at high noon. Sea birds lazily surfed the streams of air. These things Toastini didn’t notice. All she noticed was boats coming, going and docked at the Honfleur pier. How would she know which was was his? She thought frantically. She stopped short on the wooden pier to catch her breath and tried to think clearly.

Toastini! A voice called out from her right. She turned, noticing a jetty off of the main pier. A very large boat was at the end, several men bustling about in preparation. She squinted into the sunlight and saw him standing next to the ship.

Spoiler:
	Translate: 1-Darling

Aksel! She exclaimed. Forgetting her attempts to catch her breath, Toastini sprinted down the jetty and catapulted into Aksel’s arms. He let out an “oof” with a laugh.

I thought you had gone. She whispered. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

He held her tight and smoothed her hair. Did you get my note? I said I would come back.

She released his neck and stood in front of him. I did get your note. But, I just...

Aksel put a finger under Toastini’s chin and angled her face up towards his. A playful smile tugged at his lips and his eyes twinkled. They creased along the corners, indicating a lifetime of sun and sea exposure. You just what? Couldn’t wait to see me? He placed a soft kiss on her lips.

She leaned in, wanting more than could be allowed on the docks in the mid-afternoon. I brought you some bread. She gasped. But I forgot your coat!

Aksel’s lips tickled her neck. Keep it. The memory of you wearing it and nothing else far exceeds the value of the coat itself.

She laughed as she drew him in for another embrace. I regret that we don’t get one more night together.

I do as well, Kjæreste. Aksel murmured.

Erlingsen! Den havnesjef har sagt vi er klare til avgang. A voice rang out from Aksel’s boat.

Aksel groaned into Toastini’s neck. I must go Toastini. He cupped her face in his hand and stared into her eyes before kissing her deeply. If you are ever in Stavenger...

She nodded numbly. And if you are ever in Ireland... It was just words, they both knew it. But somehow saying them provided a perverse sort of comfort. She clasped his hands that still cupped her face. The sun shined warmly down on the two, but the afternoon winter breeze brought a chill Toastini felt to her bones. She stared into his light blue eyes and imagined a different life for herself. She imagined having a modest home with a large garden and several children playing under a tree. She pictured Aksel returning home from his duties at the dock, rubbing her large belly that was full with another wean. She imagined that home, filled with love and joy and happiness and stability. Normalcy. It was nearly overwhelming, the desire to make that dream real. But it would never happen, especially now. She stood on her toes and kissed him lightly before stepping away. She reached up and brushed a lock of his hair from his face. Goodbye Aksel.

He took her hand and placed the palm to his mouth. The smile had all but disappeared from his eyes. He closed his eyes and murmured into her hand, Goodbye Toastini.

Without further ado, Aksel spun on his heals and walked briskly back to his ship. The crew had already drawn the anchor and waited expectantly for his return to the boat. He boarded; a shaggy haired man pulled in the ropes and the boat began its gradual movement away from the dock.

Toastini’s throat tightened. She squeezed the bread in her hand tightly. She watched as that other life she had imagined sailed away down the river and into the ocean. She watched until it was a mere speck on the horizon and the sun began to follow suit. Eventually, with heavy heart and tired legs, Toastini sat on the edge of the pier. She broke the bread that Aksel had neglected to take into manageable pieces and began tossing them out to the gulls.

They squawked greedily above her head, oblivious to her bleak disposition. She looked up at the grey and white birds with envy. They had it so easy. The birds lived by the sea, their only lifelong objective was to eat, mate and poop on the decks of ships. She angrily threw another chunk at a particularly vociferous bird. The bread plopped into the water anticlimactically. The dumb bird was undeterred and dove in after the hunk.

You are a fool, bird! You can’t have it! It’ll never be yours. Toastini pulled her legs up and rested her chin on her knees. I guess that is it then. She said with resignation to no one in particular. She stood up and stretched, feeling as though she had sat in that spot for a few days at least, heavy and exhausted. She looked around, the sun hadn’t quite dipped below the horizon. Since she was on the docks, she figured that she may as well find the NNGO ships and figure out when to board. It would keep her mind busy on other things, anyway.

Spoiler:
	Translate: 1-sweetheart 2-Erlingsen! The harbor master said we are ready for departure.

Toastini walked down the pier a few paces before she noticed the familiar NNGO flags flapping high in the breeze. Her heart felt a little bit lighter, knowing that she wasn’t stuck in Honfleur after all. As good as their whiskey was, she still didn’t intend on staying a moment longer than she had to.

Upon approaching the two mightly ships, she realized that they were empty. The crew must be in town or at a nearby tavern, she thought to herself. She turned around and nearly ran into a weathered older man. He smiled widely at her, exposing a missing upper tooth.

Bonjour, mademoiselle. Comment puis-je vous aider? He asked.

She would consider this high on the list of reasons why she was anxious to be back home. She smiled as pleasantly as she could muster. Je ne parle pas français. Anglais seulement.

Oh, oui oui. I spoke English. How help? He mustered.

I will be sailing on one of the NNGO ships. Do you know where the captain is or when they will set sail? She asked, hoping he didn’t get lost in her questions.

He gave a shrug and sighed. His breath was awful. The big NNGO ship gone tomorrow morning. Infant ship...gone later.

Infant ship? She glanced back. One was smaller than the other. She shrugged back at the man, figuring she would just come down in the morning and would be surprised with whatever happened. Alright, thank you. Merci beaucoup. She didn’t wait for a response, which she realized was probably rude. She just didn’t have the patience or interest in further conversation.

As she walked slowly back up the pier, through town and up the hill to La Ferme, exhaustion hit her quickly. Her breathing was labored, bones weary. She knew that she should have supper, but the idea of eating in a loud dining hall made her cringe. She wanted solitude, quiet and sleep. Not necessarily in that order.
**
Yves was not in his usual place when she arrived back at La Ferme. The sun had just set. She walked in the entryway and saw him ushering patrons into the cabaret auditorium. Having absolutely no interest in attending the show for a second night, Toastini decided to poke her head into the dining hall to see if supper was worth putting off sleep for.

The scents of roast pheasant and boiled fish reached her before she entered the room. Her stomach growled loudly. She acquiesced and decided to have a small supper. In the corner of the room sat Guillemette and Renouart, fully immersed in conversation.

Smiling, she turned in the opposite direction and headed to the bar. She was surprised to see Etienne working the dining hall bar instead of the cabaret bar, and told him as such.

He beamed a winning smile. We take turns working different rooms here. No chance of boredom. What can I get for you, Mademoiselle?

I’d like to order a supper platter, to be delivered to my room on the fourth floor if possible.

Of course. We can do that for you, Toastini. Just one platter? His eyes twinkled playfully.

Toastini let out a wistful sigh. Yes, just one. My friend left this morning sadly.

Ah, I see. Etienne shook his head while wiping a glass with a rag. I do not know how you do it. I need one place to live.

Toastini smiled and didn’t say anything in reply. She simply placed a few coins on the counter and walked away.

She slowly approached Guillemette and Renouart’s table. They were so wrapped in conversation that they did not notice her approach until she stood right next to them.

Toastini! How good to see you! Guillemette exclaimed, cheeks flushed. Please, have a seat and join us.
Guillemette’s brows furrowed in concern. I haven’t seen you all day. You look pale. Are you feeling alright?

Toastini laughed at Guillemette’s questions. I am feeling alright Guillemette. And thank you for the invitation, but I have ordered a platter of food to be delivered to my room. She stopped, face sobering. I hesitate to tell you this, but I received information regarding the NNGO ships. We will set sail tomorrow morning.

The smile remained plastered on Guillemette’s face, but the light died in her eyes. Thank you for letting me know. She looked at Renouart for a moment before becoming incredibly preoccupied with the remnants of food left on her platter.

Toastini gave her a sympathetic smile and squeezed her shoulder. Have a wonderful evening, you two. I will see you in the morning at breakfast.

Toastini retreated up the stairs, dragging her tired feet behind her. When she got to the fourth floor, she realized that she should have ordered more hot water for a bath. While it seemed indulgent, she knew that she wouldn’t have another until Ireland. The thought was both immensely depressing and exciting at the same time. The next time she bathed, it would be with Irish water! She would have skipped to her room if she had the energy or inclination.

Once in her room, she stripped and put on the soft robe. She noticed Aksel’s coat laid out on the made bed; the very sight made her insides turn to ice. She sat at the vanity and idly brushed her hair until a servant arrived with her dinner. The food smelled delicious but tasted like wood. The inertia of the past few days, nay weeks, was catching up to her. The silence in her room was deafening.

She stood up quickly, nearly toppling over the vanity chair and flung the curtains open. She pushed the window open; it was slightly jammed having not been open in at least five months due to the colder weather. Cold wind be damned, Toastini needed noise.

She sank onto the fluffy mattress and slowly caressed the jacket, listening intently to the sounds wafting in through the window. She could hear a few patrons leaving as the cabaret ended and could faintly hear the horses in the stables. It wasn’t much, but it would do.

Spoiler:
	Translate: 1-Hello miss. How can I help you? 2-I don’t speak French. English only. 3-Thank you very much.

Toastini woke with a start, soaked in sweat. She wrinkled her nose as she tossed the bed covers off of her feverish body. Her fitful sleep and strange dreams had her feeling irritable and ready to leave the country.

She jumped out of bed with a renewed sense of energy. Grabbing her small satchel, she shoved her damp chemise into it, along with the rest of her belongings strewn about the room. She glanced for a single moment at the stunning gown hanging in the open wardrobe. She would leave it there for the servants. Hastily swishing her mouth out with fresh water and braiding her hair, she dressed in the remaining chemise and overdress. Without forgetting, she put Aksel’s jacket on over her dress. She exited her room without looking back.

She marched to Guillemette’s door and knocked briskly. She called out, Guillemette! We must leave.

Renouart poked his head out of his own room next door. His hair was completely disheveled and looked as though he had just woken up. He shut the door after seeing Toastini. She scowled. Guillemette finally opened her door, looking fresh and energized. So in short, she looked the opposite of Toastini. We are going to the docks now, or are we going to eat breakfast first?

Toastini didn’t break her steadfast gaze. I am going to the docks. If you require breakfast, you can catch up with me later. If the boat is still there, that is.

Guillemette bit her lip as she slung her satchel over her shoulder. Breakfast can wait. She cast a cursory glance at Renouart’s door. As if summoned, he barrelled out, fully dressed and packed. He said breathlessly, I go to docks with you.

Toastini didn’t give him a response. She simply turned on her heel and marched down the aisle toward the stairwell.

She paid for their accommodations and made arrangements for Renouart to come back and retrieve the horses from the stables when he was ready. She bid a tight yet genuine farewell to Yves, promising to stay only at La Ferme should she ever return to Honfleur.

She continued her quick steps out of the grand building and retraced the very steps she had taken the day before when she was frantic to see Aksel off. She lifted her chin and squared her back, ready to leave the town, country and memories behind. She walked briskly, as though attempting to outpace the hounding ghosts of her dear friend Kai or that wretched Spanish thief. The reality was that she was outpacing Guillemette and Renouart, who both struggled to keep up with Toastini.

Toastini’s boots stomped loudly on the wooden pier all the way to the large NNGO ship that they would board. She could see several of her associates already on board, adeptly preparing the ship for departure. She turned quickly and looked at Renouart. She took a deep breath to slow down and smiled at the young lad. She took him in her arms for a warm embrace, squeezing him tightly. He patted her back softly, unsure of what action he should take. She released him and unfastened her leather pouch at her hip. She placed it firmly in Renouart’s hand, curling his fingers around the soft bag. Thank you for everything, Renouart. This should get you back to Leval in comfort. She whispered in his ear, Write to Guillemette!

With that, she spun on her heels and boarded the ship, not wanting to prolong her goodbye. Also, she wanted to give Guillemette and Renouart privacy. But most of all, she wanted to be on the ship, Ireland bound. She tossed her satchel in her cabin and reported for duty to either Roxxane or Jill. As she prepared the starboard side of the ship, she sneaked a peak at the two young ones on the dock.

Guillemette held both of Renouart’s hands in her own. They were talking, but the distance was too great so Toastini was unable to eavesdrop. Not that she would be able to understand their conversation, which was most likely in French. Just as Toastini was about to carry on with her duties, Guillemette quickly leaned up and placed a timid kiss on Renouart’s unsuspecting lips. Without further ado, Guillemette scampered up the dock to board the boat.

Toastini gasped before grinning widely. She removed the grin just as quickly, not wanting Guillemette to know that she had been watching.

Guillemette spent the first few days sick in her room; both seasick and heartsick. Toastini spent the first few days working on the ship, busying herself with duties and otherwise occupying her mind on circumstances that would not change. If she were feeling especially astute, she would have admitted that her behavior would be firmly categorized as ‘denial’. She was also keeping her distance from Guillemette because she could hardly stand to be around the young lass’s maudlin behavior.

The cold sea air did nothing for her lungs. She would break out into coughing fits several times throughout the day. It was bothersome, annoying and actually quite disgusting. She absolutely believed that once she was on land, she would feel good as new and healthy as an ox.

The ship happened through a storm midway between France and Ireland (Toastini figured it was the typical, miserable grey cloud that hung over England). She had spent the better part of the day out in strong winds, sideways blowing rain and thunder, working to keep the ship from capsizing. Fever had set in so she was largely unaffected by the cool temperature. The storm finally eased up by supper, and by that time Toastini was exhausted. She staggered into the cabin that she shared with Guillemette and stripped her soaked clothes off of her ragged body. She left them in a wet heap on the floor and curled up under the thick yet scratchy blankets on her cot, shivering.

Guillemette had stopped staring listlessly out of the porthole and watched Toastini with concern. The girl may have had her head in the clouds and left her heart in Honfleur, but she wasn’t completely oblivious to another persons suffering. She hurried to the galley to grab a pot of hot water and two mugs for tea.

Back in the room, Guillemette poured Toastini a cup and urged her to drink. Toastini stubbornly refused, teeth chattering as she did.

Toastini, don’t be foolish. You need warmth. Plus, the tea is good for you. Drink it. Now. Guillemette instructed with as much force as she could muster.

Toastini obligingly took the mug and had a sip. She would never have admitted it out loud, but the steaming liquid felt like heaven as it warmed her from the inside out.

How are you feeling, Toastini? Guillemette inquired softly as she sat perched on her own cot directly across from Toastini’s.

I am fine. I don’t care to discuss it. She snapped.

Guillemette raised her eyebrows and sipped on her tea loudly. Deciding on a different approach, she asked, You haven’t told me much about NNGO. I’d like to know more about them, if you don’t mind sharing.

I haven’t told you about them because you have been too busy sulking and holed up in this cabin. Toastini said testily. She instantly regretted the remark. Guillemette simply continued to sip her tea. I will tell you of NNGO and my involvement with them. As many things do, it started with a war. As you will soon see, Ireland is a hotbed of fiery temperament and disagreement. I fought in my first war for Munster, my first home in Ireland. I fought for her with everything I had against foreign scoundrels. That is when I first joined NNGO, as an associate marching alongside them with Munster.

Guillemette's eyes widened. You joined despite the rampant tales of their antics, cheating and thievery?

Toastini rolled her eyes and smirked. There isn't a cheat among us, Guillemette. People love to hate NNGO, I think mostly because they do not understand. Even before joining, I noticed that among the ranks there was honesty and respect. I joined as an associate and worked my way up to the highest level of the organization.

You must be very proud. You speak highly of these people, people whom many regard as public enemies. Why is that? Guillemette asked.

I have taken the time to get to know them. They are more than just people I march with. They are my family, a group of people that accept me for who I am and what I choose for my life without question. There are little to no histrionics within the organization. Even if a person chooses to leave as an associate- which, let it be known, very rarely happens- they leave without fanfare or dramatic events. There are not many groups around these lands that can say that.

Guillemette looked down at her mug and said softly, You are correct about that. Not many groups offer the same camaraderie.

Toastini looked at Guillemette for a moment, realizing she had clearly hit a raw spot. Toastini winced inwardly as she thought of the church, URAC, their hypocrisy at large and how Guillemette would undoubtedly now be ostracized from the group simply by following her heart. Toastini decided to forge ahead with tales of battle. So, I fought for Munster with NNGO. A few months after that war, Munster turned on NNGO. It was at that moment that I decided that home was not a county, but with people I respected. So I joined as a member and war was waged against the traitorous Munster. My blood family, the Kennedy's, were largely none too pleased with my choice of joining the ranks of NNGO. The Kennedy's, with limited exception, are Munster loyalists. I will confess to you, Guillemette. It hurt me deeply, their inability to get past my chosen path. Some send sporadic letters that attempt to sound supportive but even those dwindled as the days passed. I genuinely believe that my sisters offered unconditional support. But the cousins...I just never believed it.
Guillemette's eyebrows rose and she stood up. She poured more tea into Toastini's mug. Now, now. Our conversation was supposed to be cheerful and uplifting. Why don’t you tell me about others in NNGO?

Toastini smiled as she brought the mug to her lips. Well, we could start with the co-captains of this very ship. Roxxane and Jill. They are both very strong and capable women whom I am honored to march under. Jill keeps to herself more and more nowadays, but she is a very kind woman who will help anyone should they need it. Even those who aren’t NNGO. I remember when I had first reached adulthood in Whithorn Scotland. I had been appointed a grant by the mayor and had no earthly idea how to manage it. She kindly armed me with ample information without a second thought. Again, I was not an NNGO member at that time, she simply helped a young lass like myself out because it was the right thing to do. Roxxane is the woman who anyone would want at the helm of their ship. She is a fearless leader and represents the organization well. If you ever need anything, you should go to her.

Guillemette nodded in understanding. And the rest?

The rest are the same. Helpful, kind and adventurous. You will meet them in Gort, our home base. As mentioned, Munster is a county filled with internal strife and people I would just as soon not interact with, for the most part. I suppose as individuals, they are fine enough. But as a group...Toastini shuddered. It may have been a shiver, Guillemette couldn’t differentiate at that point.

What about your blood-kin, will I meet them? Guillemette wondered out loud.

Highly doubtful, Guillemette. She laughed and clearly bit back any further sentiment regarding her question. Say, have I ever told you about how I was in a band in Lismore?

Guillemette shook her head and stifled a yawn. The sun had set several hours prior and the inky blackness outside indicated a new moon was dimly lighting the night sky. I did not know you played a musical instrument, Toastini.

Toastini smirked and snuggled deeper into her blankets. She too stifled a yawn. It had been a long day. I don’t know if it is accurate to say that I play an instrument. I banged on the drums. Sadly, I can’t recall everyone who was in the band. I know an old friend Boris was, and I think Porcina may have sang. We played in the tavern and at either a ball or a wedding. Toastini frowned, trying to recall dusty old memories out of the annals of her mind. She shook her head, trying to rattle the dust bunnies and think clearly. I don’t know. It was fun though.

Guillemette smiled pleasantly. Boris? I haven’t heard this name come up yet. Was he a suitor?

Toastini stuck her tongue out. No, he was not a suitor. We have the same, ah...spiritual leanings. He is a kindred spirit, a little more in tune with spirit than I am. He was married to my cousin Catriona, before...well, I don’t really know what happened. We thought she had died. I attended her funeral. That was the last time I saw Boris. Catriona, well, you would like her. She is, or was, not too sure anymore, a woman of Jah. When I was younger, I always thought she carried herself with aplomb and with the grace of Jah. As I have gotten older, it has dawned on me that she was just as confused and lost as the rest of us. I always considered her to be a Kennedy. Guillemette, surely you understand that what defines family isn’t always blood. She left the Kennedy clan, if I remember correctly it was partially due to her lack of physical blood kinship with us. After she returned from the great beyond...Toastini clucked her tongue...she aligned herself with the MacKenzie clan. Toastini shrugged. I don’t know why that clan is any more or less real to her than the Kennedy’s. Toastini sighed wistfully. I do know that the MacKenzie family tree boasts far more branches than the Kennedy tree at this point. It is sad, Guillemette. My family is dwindling. By the choices of both man and Jah alike.

Guillemette’s brows furrowed. You seem upset by that, by Catriona and your family tree.

Toastini blew air through her lips, making a rude noise. I am not terribly bothered anymore. There is little that bothers me greatly anymore. I feel as though time has given me the perspective needed to weigh what is truly important to a person. I do grieve for what appears to be the end of my family name. Any single persons actions have no bearing on me anymore. Besides Elish’s brother Robbie and Big Jack, there are little opportunities to expand the family name. Porcina did help with her brood of a dozen, or however many she birthed. Do I wish for different endings? Yes, I do. Do I wish that the Kennedy’s were as great as they once were? Of course. But as a wise man once said, put wishes in one hand and cow dung in another and see which one fills first. Toastini cackled and yawned loudly.

Guillemette made a face and stretched her arms over her head. You are getting silly. I am thinking it is time for me to extinguish the candle and go to sleep. Toastini?

Toastini snorted. Hmmmphhh? She had already fallen asleep.

A few days later, Toastini burst into the cabin, grin plastered on her face. Guillemette! I can see land! We are near Ireland! Hell, if I tried, I could probably spit on it!

Guillemette absently looked up from a book titled ‘Principles on Maritime Strategy’. Honestly, Toastini. The way you talk, sometimes I can hardly believe you are a woman of high regard.

Toastini’s smile faltered. She put a hand on her hip, indignant. She held up her other hand and began counting off. First of all, I am sick to death of dealing with whatever crawled up your arse and died. Second, why are you bothering to read that book? You have been of no use this entire trip, besides using up all the hankies to dry your sniveling nose. Thirdly, who says I am a woman of high regard?

Guillemette stood up, face mottled with frustration. She tossed the book down on the cot, losing her place immediately. As was typical for Guillemette when she was upset, her accent grew thicker with her emotions. YOU are sick of ME? I am tired of nursing you back to health after you run around and nearly kill yourself for the most foolish of reasons. I have been of no use on this ship because I don’t know what I am doing on a ship. I have never been on a ship. I have never left France before! Yes, I have been upset. I found and lost love within a months time. It has been difficult to say the least.

Toastini stood with mouth agape for a moment, stunned at Guillemette’s passionate response. She recovered and responded, just as passionately. I am running around getting things done! So we can arrive safely on land, not get attacked by English scallywags or get capsized by storms! And I am well aware that you left Renouart behind. But try to remember that you aren’t the only one who left someone behind in France!

Guillemette rolled her eyes with such gusto, Toastini was actually worried for her for a moment. So now you are telling me that you are in love with Aksel and you are heartsick over leaving him?

Toastini’s face screwed up in a confused and annoyed knot. Love Aksel? No, I do not love Aksel. He was, sadly, but a fleeting moment in a life that will be over far too soon. I am talking about Kai, my dear old friend who perished at the hands of the mangy French soldiers. She is dead, Guillemette. She was left in the forest with a sword through her stomach. I should have protected her. I cannot write to her or ever return to visit. She will not board a ship to visit me.

Guillemette’s face paled. She turned and leaned her forehead against the porthole. Her breath fogged up the glass as she spoke quietly into the window, We are returning to your home, Toastini. You sail and march with your family. I left the only home I have ever known, now unable to return due to my actions.

Toastini’s shoulders fell, regretting her outburst. She sank down on the lumpy cot and stared down at her scuffed boots. She sat still and staring for a moment, and Guillemette did the same, staring out into the ocean. Their cabin faced west, so she was unable to see land.

Toastini’s voice cracked through the silent cabin. I am so sorry, Guillemette. I have demonstrated the height of insensitivity. You have left everything. Your poor heart is broken and you have a sickly curmudgeon as a bunkmate. I don’t envy you at all.

Guillemette cast a glance over her shoulder at Toastini and smiled wanly. She cleared her throat and said softly, You are a curmudgeon. It is true, I can’t deny it.

Toastini chuckled. She looked up at Guillemette, who giggled quietly. Toastini began to laugh in earnest. I am a curmudgeon! I am impossible! She shrieked while laughing.

Guillemette doubled over, laughing and nodding her head at Toastini. Toastini fell back onto her cot, laying down, peels of laughter causing tears to stream down her cheeks.

Once their laughter died down, which was several moments later much to the surprise of the rest on board, the two walked out onto the deck, arm in arm. Toastini pointed out to the horizon, giving Guillemette her first glimpse of the Emerald Isle.

The boat docked in Gort without incident. It seemed everyone on board was overjoyed with being back on Irish soil. France will do that to a person, so it seemed. Guillemette waited for Toastini at the end of the dock; Toastini finishing up with the boat and NNGO duties. As she stood waiting, her body swayed to and fro.

As Toastini finally made her way down the dock, she laughed. It will be a while yet, till you find your land legs. Probably as long as it took for you to find your sea legs.

Guillemette turned mildly green as she recalled how she never really did find her sea legs. I think I am to remain on land, Toastini. It turns out that the pirate life is decidedly not for me.

Toastini smiled widely. Well, allow me to show you what we have here on land.

Toastini led Guillemette through the town of Gort, the place in which she now considered home. Guillemette gaped openly at the many taverns, university, monastery, round tower and market.

The buildings look slightly different than in France. Why are there so many taverns? Guillemette asked.

Toastini laughed out loud. She answered jovially, letting her Irish accent thicken. Cos we like to drink, lass!

Guillemette simply shook her head in awe, overwhelmed. Which house is yours?

Toastini pointed to a modest cottage just off of the cobble road past the last tavern on the right. Ack, just look at my field. Or what was my field. Looks like I have a lot of work to do after we get settled.

Guillemette shot Toastini a sidelong glance, frowning slightly.

Her look did not go unnoticed. What? Toastini asked.

Guillemette shrugged, nonchalant. I was thinking that once we arrived in Gort, you would rest for a bit.

It was Toastini’s turn to scowl. I am feeling fit as a fiddle, Guillemette. I just knew that once I was back in Ireland, I would feel fine. And look! I feel splendid! Toastini spun in a circle as she walked, letting her satchel swing out, nearly hitting Guillemette.

Guillemette hopped out of the way and let out an inaudible sigh at Toastini’s obstinance. There is a vast difference between how you feel and how healthy you really are. Clearly.

Toastini simply smiled tightly as they reached her front door. The door was slightly stuck in its jamb, she gave a swift bump of her hip and the door swung open. Toastini welcomed Guillemette in the house, both looking around, assessing the room.

The stone tile floors were slick with dust underfoot. The ordinarily vibrant golden reed mat in the center of the main room was a dull yellow. Dust layered everything- the large wood table in the middle of the room, the wooden trunk and chair that sat under the window on the east side of the home, even the painted cloth that hung on the western wall and the oak wall panels throughout the cottage seemed to be coated.

Toastini groaned and dropped her belongings were she stood. She immediately shoved the shuttered windows open. There were three- one on the western wall next to the painted cloth, the eastern wall and one in the rear of the house that faced north. It was directly next to a large cauldron and fire pit. This window faced her fairly large garden. Across from the cauldron sat a very large tub, which Toastini eyed hungrily as she shoved the final window open.

Standing in the rear of the house, she stood with arms akimbo. Guillemette, we need to head to the market for supplies. We need wood for a fire, food and other necessities. Possibly a small bed for you, we could put it next to the painted cloth.

Guillemette’s eyebrows knitted together. But Toastini, neither of us has any money. I saw you give your pouch to Renouart.

Toastini grinned ferally and walked with purpose into the second and last room of the house. She stood at the head of a modestly sized four poster bed. Help me move this just a few paces to the right, please.

Guillemette obliged and gasped as she noticed a small latch on one tile. Toastini giggled wickedly. She gave the handle a strong tug; a puff of dust hit her directly in the face. She had to take a moment to cough and allow the air to clear. Guillemette demonstrated outward patience, although internally she was anxious to see what lie in the secret spot.

When Toastini finally pulled the stone out of the way, a small yet remarkably spacious spot was carved out of the earth. Guillemette’s eyes widened as she realized that the dozen or so velvet pouches were all filled with gold coins. She exclaimed, Toastini!

Blue eyes twinkling, Toastini winked at Guillemette. If you ever need anything and I am not here, help yourself. But only take a few pieces out at a time. If someone spots you sauntering through town with a bag or two, it may raise suspicions. Because if it isn’t terribly obvious, these are not from selling corn.

Guillemette gaped at Toastini. These are from robberies?

Toastini scowled at Guillemette’s assumption. No. While I have no moral objection (Toastini met Guillemette’s glare head on), I have never robbed an individual in my life. A town on the other hand... She laughed. Don’t fret too much. Gold isn’t the only thing I have stashed down here. She produced a very large brown bottle of whiskey and looked at it with lust and love. She planted a wet kiss on the body of the bottle. My one true love!

Guillemette giggled and snatched the bottle out of Toastini’s loving grasp. Come on. We need wood and food!

Toastini introduced Guillemette to several people in the market as they purchased goods. As flush with gold as Toastini was, she felt guilty purchasing wood when she could have very well chopped it herself in the nearby forest. But, buying wood was easier, quicker and would not illicit a disapproving look from Guillemette. Honestly, the lass was treating her as though she were a delicate egg. Toastini was also mildly confused as to why her fellow townsfolk eyed her with curiosity or surprise when she happened upon their booth at the market. She had left the town of Gort as their Countess. She now stood before them as a dirty pirate sailor. She could only imagine what she must smell like. Oh well, all the more reason to purchase a cart full of chopped wood.

In reality, Toastini’s own stubbornness created a blind spot in her reasoning. The townsfolk either averted their gaze or openly stared in surprise at their former Countess because she was a mere hint of the woman they saw last. She was thin as a blade of grass, pale as a ghost and had dark, haunting circles under her eyes that had nothing to do with the many hard days of labor on the ship. Her once lustrous curtain of dark hair now hung limp and thin off of her scalp. In short, it looked as though someone were sucking the very life right out of her. It was painfully obvious to everyone except Toastini that she was very, very ill. The looked at Guillemette with pity and interest, wondering why the lovely French lass would follow such a sickly person all the way to Ireland. Toastini provided little details as to who Guillemette was or her origins. It wasn’t for any particular reason; just that Toastini had gotten quite used to leaving out bits and pieces when talking to people. Hazards of the job and all that.

Guillemette smiled shyly to the many warm welcomes that she received. She felt a pang in her stomach, as she wished she could turn to Renouart and discuss how kind the Irish people were so far, qualities they had been told did not exist in the Irish by the French. She also wondered if the people treated her so warmly because she had deliberately dressed in a simple chemise and surcoat, forgoing the habit and veil for her first day in Gort. Would they have treated her the same if they new she was a nun? Was she still a nun? Her hand traced the cross around her neck idly as she pondered the thought. Jehanne would probably say no.

Toastini made arrangements with a carpenter to have a small bed delivered to her cottage the next day. He was reluctant at first, balking at such a quick turnaround but was plied with an extra piece of gold.

With their cart food of wood, meats, cheeses, bread, a wedge of soap and whiskey, Toastini and Guillemette slowly made their way back home.

Once home, Toastini filled the cauldron with water and started the fire. Guillemette busied herself with preparing the food with the intention on making a hearty stew. Toastini flatly informed Guillemette that the first batch of hot water would be used for a bath, no if’s, and’s, or but’s about it. Guillemette did not argue; if Toastini was resting, she would be happy. She had cared for several people afflicted with consumption at the convent. She knew, baring some miracle act from Jah, Toastini’s time was short. It made her both sad and sick with worry. She crossed herself as she selfishly thought of what life would be like in this foreign land without her only friend. Toastini had made it abundantly clear on several occasions that the NNGO would be there for her. The few that she had met on-board had been nothing but hospitable and kind to her. For that, she was grateful. If Toastini trusted them, then she would as well, it was as simple as that.

The sun was setting, and Toastini was emptying her satchel outside. She didn’t want to bring in the few stinking clothes that she had packed. She declared loudly, I will launder these tomorrow!

Guillemette just clucked her tongue and shook her head, sneaking a pot of hot water out of the cauldron for tea before putting the rest in the tub. She called out the open window, Toastini, the water is ready for your bath!

Toastini dropped her satchel in the tall grass and walked swiftly inside. Superb! She exclaimed, and began disrobing as she walked through the back door.

Guillemette gasped and scowled. Toastini! All of the windows are open! For one, it is simply indecent. For two, the cold air on your wet body will only make you more sick.

Toastini gingerly put a toe in the steaming bath and scoffed at the overly fussy Guillemette. I cannot concern myself with society’s rules of decency. And for the last time, Guillemette. It can’t make me ‘more sick’ if I am not sick to begin with.

Guillemette’s face relaxed as she watched Toastini submerge her emaciated frame into the large tub. Her skin had a yellowish hue. Guillemette’s lips turned downward slightly. It was much worse than she had imagined. Toastini was either completely in denial or she was losing her mental faculties. Neither one was a good prognosis. Guillemette sighed softly and continued with her stew. If Toastini could be in denial, she could as well.

Guillemette stirred the stew and sipped on tea while keeping an eye on Toastini, who’s head was now propped against the tub and snoozing lightly. She removed the pot of stew from the hook over the fire and placed it on a tall table against the wall. She walked to the tub and placed her hand in the water. To say it was tepid was being generous. She nudged Toastini’s shoulder lightly. Toastini. It is time for supper.

Hmmm...I don’t want it. I am not hungry. Toastini yawned and turned her head away from Guillemette.

If you aren’t hungry, you still must get out of the tub. The water is turning cold. Come, let us get you into your warm bed. Doesn’t that sound wonderful? Guillemette coaxed Toastini up, holding her elbow and helping the lass stand. She led Toastini into the bedroom, leaving a trail of droplets behind her. Where are your nightgowns?

Toastini didn’t bother to answer. She simply crawled into her bed and burrowed under the covers. Guillemette followed her to the edge of the bed and tucked the blankets under her chin. Toastini was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

Guillemette walked quietly back to the main room and made herself a heaping bowl of stew. She wasn’t going to let it go to waste. As she sat on the stool, shoveling spoonfuls of piping hot stew into her mouth, she thought of her charge. She still thought of Toastini as someone she was obliged to take care of. More so now, given their history and relationship. Only now, with obligation came deep feelings of friendship and love. She felt a deepening sense of responsibility, more than she had ever felt for any of her charges at the convent. She worried for Toastini and her kin.

Bowl empty, Guillemette placed it in a bin to be washed at sunrise. She saw a broom propped by the back door and decided to make use of her time. She lit a few candles and began to tidy up the humble cottage, guiding dust and dirt out the door. With a rag, she tenderly wiped the layers of dust from all surfaces. She beat the rag out of the front door when she noticed several rolls of parchment perched on the window ledge. She grabbed them and took a seat at the trunk which clearly doubled as a desk.

She examined the rolls, none were sealed, so she felt alright opening them. The first was a declaration for a plot of land that she had sold. Her money for the sale could be picked up at the Mayors office.

The rest of the pieces looked like remnants of official county business when she was on council. Guillemette stared out the window as she pondered the idea of Toastini being involved with politics. She didn’t seem the type. Guillemette shrugged absentmindedly. She shuffled through the parchment, sure she was missing something.

Guillemette frowned as she sat at the trunk. Not a single message was personal. She sat wondering about a woman who had systematically kept everyone at arms length, never letting anyone in. She wondered about her own situation and how she found herself here. Guillemette had to admit to herself that she had thrust herself upon Toastini, informing rather than asking to accompany her to Ireland. On one side of the coin, Guillemette had known she would get no objection because Toastini was ill and had been injured. She needed a nursemaid to travel with her. The fact that Toastini spoke little to no French also worked in Guillemette’s favor. Toastini was not a foolish woman; she knew her limitations.

Guillemette chewed on her lower lip in contemplation. She may not mean as much to Toastini as Toastini meant to her, but it wouldn’t change anything. She would remain here and be as useful as she possibly could. She stared at the curled parchment and blotted ink. Toastini’s family! Guillemette could deduct from previous conversations that Toastini would most likely not initiate contact with them now that she had returned to Ireland. But Guillemette understood the importance of family, of kin. She gathered the rolled parchment and pried the trunk open. As she suspected, in the mix of stuff, Guillemette fished out a piece of clean parchment, ink well and pen.

She sat tentatively, tapping the pen against her chin for a few moments before committing ink to paper.

Kennedy’s,

My name is Guillemette. I have accompanied Toastini from France to Ireland as caretaker and friend. I write to you under the role of friend. She was grievously injured in France, but that injury has healed. It was also discovered while she lay in recovery at the convent that she is afflicted with consumption. I fear she is not doing as well as she had expected upon return to her homeland.

She has told me of her kin during her stay in the convent and on the long boat trip over. Jah forgive me, but that woman is as stubborn as a donkey. I doubt that she will reach out to you. I feel Jah has put me in Toastini’s life for a reason. Perhaps that reason is to inform you of her return to Ireland and her illness.

Very truly,

Guillemette
Guillemette watched the ink dry, still unsure of her place and if sending the letter was the right thing to do. She licked her lips and rolled the parchment, sealing it quickly with Toastini’s ‘TK’ stamp. She then signed her name next to the seal.

The sun was nearly set. She decided to try her chances at the nearest tavern and see if anyone would be able to deliver the letter.

Guillemette was plucking weeds slowly out of Toastini’s front garden, basking in the unseasonable sunshine. It almost felt like Spring. That was the main reason Guillemette decided to tend to the garden; the state they were in now was not conducive to growing crops of any sort. Unless one farmed weeds, of course.

She hummed a hymn under her breath as she dutifully plucked the morning away. Soon, her stomach grumbled. She shielded her eyes with a hand to her brow as she looked up at the sky. The sun stood directly overhead. She stood up, brushing the dirt off of her skirt and checked on Toastini, who was snoozing lightly in her bed.

She walked to the tavern to fetch a light mid-day meal. She had come to enjoy the camaraderie that could be found at the local watering holes. Most of the locals didn’t seem to care that she was from France; although a few drunkards may have spewed a few less than savory remarks about her homeland. It didn’t bother Guillemette much. She realized that most of the people that she encountered oddly had not originated from Ireland. It was a pleasure to learn their stories while breaking bread. Guillemette had still not taken to drinking ale or whiskey. It was the one time she was glad Toastini wasn’t terribly social lately. She knew that the lass would surely give her a ribbing for not partaking in some of Ireland’s finest libations.

Guillemette opened the door to the tavern and nearly ran into a young gent who was exiting in a hurry. The fellow stammered an apology before his eyes lit up as he recognized her. Guillemette! You were my next stop! I have a letter for you. Here. He dug for a few moments in his deep leather satchel. He looked up at her and laughed sheepishly as his arm went deeper in the bag and he rummaged further. It is here somewhere, I know it. Aw, come on. I just spotted the buggar! Oy, here it is. He produced a rolled piece of parchment and handed it to Guillemette.

Guillemette took the parchment with slight trepidation. She wondered who could have possibly written to her. Thank you, Monsieur!

She sat at her usual spot in the tavern and rolled the letter open without hesitation. She let out a breath of relief that she had not realized she was holding when she read who had sent it. Toastini’s family!

She read the note from Aria Kennedy:

Quote:

Miss Guillemette, Thank you for your letter. My name is Aria Kennedy, cousin to Toasti, and I received your letter as I currently reside in our family home in Imleach. I've just returned from a trip, and Toastini's sister who was traveling with me was two days delayed. I hope to share your letter with her upon her return, but I write now as to not waste time. Your letter did not clarify what state my cousin is in currently. I would wish to call on her, if you do not think this would upset her more. Though if the situation is urgent please be assured I will make haste, willingly ignoring any protests she might hold. I thank you for your care as well, and wonder if I might inquire as to how you came into this roll? If any medicines are needed for her care, please let me know as well, for I will see that she gets them. ~Aria Kennedy

Placing an order for her meal with the barkeep, she also asked for parchment and ink. The man gave Guillemette a strange look before finding a lone, ale-stained piece of papyrus and a nearly dried up inkwell for her to use.

She sat at her table and drafted her response.

Dear Aria,

I am very pleased to have received your correspondence so promptly. I am also glad to hear that you will share my letter with others within your family. I know it is what Toastini would want, whether or not she admits it.

I must confess that I have not informed Toastini of my writing you. It is for two reasons, really. First, and to answer one of your questions, she has been spending most of her days in bed, resting. When she is awake, she is alert and amiable. But she does spend most of her time sleeping. I could very well tell her while she is awake, I suppose I have no excuse other than cowardice. It would be dreadful if Toastini found my involvement to be meddlesome. Second, I wasn’t sure if I would hear a response, so I didn’t want to tell her of my involvement prematurely. Now that I have received your response, I very well may tell her. If you wish to call on her, I think you should do so. I don’t believe she is in that delicate of a state in which it would upset her. Really, is Toastini ever in a delicate state? Besides, you are family.

Your thanks for my service are accepted by hardly necessary. I was called by Jah to be of service to others. I was a nun in a convent in Leval, France. Toastini was injured by French soldiers. Our convent took her in and nursed her back to health. As she recovered, we formed a friendship. Without using too much ink, I will say that I realized that I was not actually called by Jah to be a woman of the cloth and offered my care services to Toastini for her journey back to Ireland. While Gort does have a very well stocked apothecary, if you have any tried and true remedies for weak breathing, it may be of use.

Many thanks again for your most prompt response. If you do make the journey to Gort, I look forward to making your acquaintance.

Sincerely,

Guillemette

Guillemette returned the nearly empty inkwell and pen to the barkeep, who informed her that the courier lad would be returning at sundown for outgoing parcels. She finished her meal and bustled back to the cottage, all the while wondering if she would tell Toastini or simply let her be surprised when her kin showed up.

Toastini and Guillemette had developed an easy routine since their arrival in Ireland. After breakfast, Guillemette would spend her mornings tending to chores around the quarters; laundry, meal preparation, picking up items at the market or when everything else was finished, she would read books obtained from the University. Reading books in English did wonders for mastering the language. Not that Guillemette had difficulty with it, but since spending most evenings in the taverns with locals, she longed to assimilate. She wouldn’t admit it to many people, but outside of the typical nostalgia, her memories of France were hardly positive. Toastini typically slept until the mid-day meal. When needed, Guillemette would help her into the main living space of the cottage for piping hot stew and tea. They would then spend the afternoon and early evening enjoying each others company while reading, doing needlework, whittling wood or playing cards. Toastini would inevitably attempt to get Guillemette to place bets while playing cards, but she never would, much to Toastini’s frustration. Guillemette just figured that it was a fruitless gesture as the money bid would be Toastini’s anyway. Which lead to a discussion about income.

As Guillemette shuffled the well-worn cards, she said, Toastini, I have noticed job posts on the board in the town square.

Toastini was leaning back in her chair, eyes closed and lips parted. Her breathing was shallow, but that was normal these days. Mmhmm?

Guillemette dealt the cards. I have contemplated responding to a job, working in a field or shearing sheep.

Toastini opened her eyes and let out a soft sigh. She spoke in a low tone. Guillemette, if you want to tend a field, we have a perfectly hideous one out back.

Guillemette smirked as she examined the hand she dealt herself. Awful cards. Toastini would undoubtedly win this hand too. If you want the fields tended to, you know I will do it. I just want to make my own gold. Guillemette paused for a moment. Besides, I feel it is in my best interest to learn to take care of myself.

Toastini leaned forward to grab her cards. Her chapped lips twisted into a wry smile. Smart girl. Perhaps we could get some strapping lads in here to raze the fields so we can start anew. What shall we grow back there? Corn, wheat? Or perhaps you would like to bring in livestock or chickens?

Guillemette wrinkled her nose. Chickens smell something awful. I suppose goats or sheep would be fine, but I would prefer a crop over animals. Guillemette played her hand and shot Toastini a knowing look. And don’t think you are fooling me, with this talk of bringing strapping lads in to simply raze a garden. I have a sneaking suspicion that you will be up at dawn with the chair to the window the day they arrive.

Toastini grinned broadly, hiding nothing. She slapped her cards down, winning the hand. Guillemette, merely moments ago I conceded that you are a smart girl. No need to rub it in with your masterful observation skills. Of course I want to see fine lads working just a few paces away from my reach. Of course, I prefer they arrive in the Spring, so the weather is warmer and they will remove their shirts! A lass can only hope. She let out a throaty cackle, her voice raspy from the chronic cough.

Guillemette scowled and shoved the cards at Toastini. It is your turn to shuffle. I have shuffled all evening.

Toastini immediately leaned back in her chair and dropped her shoulders, attempting to look as pitiful and unhealthy as possible. I am a sickly woman, Guillemette. Shuffling is too exhausting.

Guillemette groaned in frustration and scooped the cards toward her body. I would accuse you of being a liar but you would then in turn accuse me of being boastful of my intelligence.

Toastini snickered. I am thinking that I would like to go to the tavern with you on some evening. I love you dearly, Guillemette. But I need to see another person’s face before I go stir-crazy in this cottage.

Guillemette smiled softly. That would be lovely. I get asked about you frequently. I am sure you would be well received. Tomorrow morning, I will tailor a dress so that it fits your body properly.

Toastini nodded and waited for her cards. Probably best. As it is, I would look like a bag of bones in a potato sack.

Guillemette clucked her tongue as she dealt a new hand. Now, that simply isn’t true. Your dresses are much nicer than potato sacks!

Toastini let out a hearty laugh. Good one, lass! You are absorbing some of that Irish fire, aren’t ya?

Guillemette merely smiled. We could always invite visitors to the cottage. That may be less strenuous.

Toastini looked down her nose, examining her cards. And who, pray tell, do you have in mind to drop by?

Guillemette cleared her throat and studied her cards. Well, you know. Anyone really. Your associates. People from the tavern. Family.

Toastini peered over her cards at Guillemette, arching one eyebrow. Family? Guillemette?

She let out a resigned sigh and inadvertently put her cards face up on the table. I sent a letter to the Kennedy’s a fortnight ago.

I have a few things to say. First, in looking at your cards, I can clearly see that I would have won that hand yet again. Jah, Guillemette, you are a terrible dealer! Perhaps I should shuffle next time. Second, what possessed you to write to the Kennedy’s, thinking it would be a good idea? Lastly, have you gotten a response?

Guillemette bit back a knowing smile at Toastini’s first and last remark. She shoved the cards to Toastini. Since you would have won, playing the hand would be an exercise in futility. You shuffle and I will talk.

Toastini stuck a tongue out and grabbed the cards. Smart and wily. Wicked combination!

I received a response from your cousin Aria. She had questions about your condition and mentioned sharing your letter with your sister. She also inquired about making a trip here. Guillemette watched Toastini as she stopped shuffling.

As it turns out, Guillemette, I am feeling rather tired. I think I shall turn in for the evening. Toastini stood up slowly, leaving the cards in a haphazard pile on the table. Guillemette stood to help Toastini to the bed, but she held up a hand in objection. I think you have done enough, Guillemette. I can make my way to the bed on my own.

Guillemette bit down on her lip, frustrated at Toastini’s hard-headedness. She called out to Toastini’s retreating figure. Before you slink off to bed, I want to know why you think what I did was wrong.

Toastini grasped onto the doorway that lead into her bedroom. Without turning around, she replied quietly You didn’t do anything wrong.

Guillemette transferred her weight from one foot to the other. Then why are you running off to bed? We just started playing cards and I need to beat you.

Toastini chuckled softly and looked over her bony shoulder. You have given me things to think about, Guillemette. That is all. And to be perfectly honest, I rather like the idea of going to bed undefeated at cards.

Well I don’t, so return at once. Guillemette hastened to add, Please.

Toastini turned slightly and drummed her fingers on the wall. Bring the cards and a lamp in to the bedroom. She climbed up into the bed slowly, her body protesting every move.

Guillemette followed, placing a glowing lamp on the nightstand and perched herself at the foot of the bed. She began to shuffle the cards. Toastini held out her hand expectantly. Ah-ah. No. If you keep shuffling yet deny me sleep because you want to win, we play until dawn. I shall shuffle from now on.

Guillemette happily handed the cards to Toastini. Now tell me about what I have given you to think about, what caused you to scurry out like a frightened mouse.

Toastini shuffled the cards adeptly and scowled. I did not run off like a frightened mouse. I just..I didn’t think I would see my family again. I know my days are numbered. Guillemette, I don’t care how much you protest, I know it. I look awful. I probably smell just as awful, I haven’t bathed in so many weeks. I am older than most of my known relation. They are presumably full of life, vivacious and energized. I am a wilted shadow of the woman I once was. I don’t know how I feel, seeing people who haven’t seen me since my glory days.

Guillemette’s face screwed up in confusion. But you said you wanted to go to the tavern with me! Why aren’t you hesitant to see those people?

Toastini laughed ruefully and dealt the cards. Because, Guillemette. Those people are strangers. They have no basis of comparison. They haven’t seen me before. They don’t know what I used to look like.

Guillemette reasoned, But your associates have, your friends within the NNGO.

Toastini shook her head. They have seen me recently, when we disembarked the boat and a few other times. Besides, it is different.

Guillemette idly handled her cards, not really paying attention to her hand. She asked softly, How is it different with your blood kin?

Toastini spat out, It just is, Guillemette! I was supposed to have had this glorious life filled with adventures. Now look at me. If my family comes here, they will see that I have ended up nothing more than a failure.

Guillemette simply shook her head and placed her hand of cards on the bedspread. I am sorry Toastini, but the only thing you are a failure at is this hand of cards. I win! She announced gleefully. She sobered after a single moment of gloating. Toastini, you aren’t afraid to see your NNGO family because they have been with you when you have experienced adventures untold. Mademoiselle, if I may be so bold, your life is one of the most hectic, chaotic, adventurous messes that I have ever bore witness to! And while you do keep everyone at a distance, you are an open book in many regards. I am fairly certain that your blood kin does know that you have led a glorious life filled with adventures. Dare I say it, I am willing to wager that some of those adventures occurred with that family of yours.

Toastini didn’t say anything. She scooped the cards closer to her and began to straighten them into a neat stack. Her eyes glistened in the orange flickering light. She put the stack down on the lumpy bed. The stack cascaded down into a heap. Toastini looked directly at Guillemette and whispered in a voice thick with emotion. I am a disappointment to them, Guillemette. Nothing I say or do will change that fact, that I am a disappointment in their eyes. She struggled to keep her emotions reigned in.

Guillemette’s posture softened. Have they told you that? Have you heard those words come out of their mouths?

Toastini stared at the cards in front of her, strewn about on the bed despite her efforts to keep them in a neat stack. She traced a finger on the top card, the weathered papyrus acted as an anchor of sorts, keeping her tethered to earth. She admitted finally, Not in so many words, no.

Guillemette allowed a small smile to play upon her lips. Toastini, your family replied quite quickly to my letter. I don’t think a person would have given much consideration to someone they find to be a disappointment. Wouldn’t you agree? I also don’t think anyone would offer to pay a visit to a person they thought so little of. Perhaps it is you.

Toastini moistened her lips and furrowed her brows. What is me?

It is you who finds disappointment in yourself. Why is that, mademoiselle? Have you not accomplished everything you wanted?

Toastini’s eyes snapped alert as she stared at Guillemette. Her body visibly relaxed as she spoke, finally freeing herself of the self-imposed prison of guilt. I have not accomplished all that I wanted. I have two halves of a life that are not joined. I have two halves that are wonderful, fulfilling, yet never joined. I should have made a greater effort to bring the two parts of my whole together.

Guillemette put the cards into a pile and got off of the bed. It isn’t too late, Toastini. Tomorrow, we shall tailor your dresses so they fit splendidly. I will draw a hot bath so you can get as clean as the day you were born. Then we shall go to the market and gather ingredients for delicious meals. We should also post job announcements on the board so we can have the gardens a little more presentable, should we have any company. No more talk of regrets. You are still here. I don’t honestly think that a little thing like consumption will stop Toastini Kennedy of the NNGO from accomplishing her goals, do you?

Toastini scooted down under the covers and breathed a sigh. What would I do without you, Guillemette?

Guillemette brought the covers up under Toastini’s chin. She brushed a lock of dark hair out of Toastini’s face as she drifted to sleep. Guillemette murmured quietly, No, mademoiselle. What would I do without you?