Farley

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I hold Clara in my arms as I storm down the hall's of the palace, on my way back to my rooms. I am all but seething as I imagine with each step that I am crushing those fools who want Evangeline as Premier. 

'Even the Red's want her. In fact, she's the only Silver they will accept besides myself that is'. Julian's words echo in my brain as I storm down the hall. I cannot believe this. I cannot believe that anyone, especially my people would want her in charge. It makes no sense. I resist the urge to spit, instead choosing to focus my attention on Clara. Don't forget to have Sara take a look at her, give me some advice about when her powers might start to show up. If she has any.  I remind myself, making a mental note to find the healer. I pause in my tracks, deciding it would probably be better just to go now, before things get more chaotic. 

As I march back up the hall towards Julians rooms I see Cal and Mare walking down a hallway and into a set of apartments. Didn't take them very long. I all but chuckle. At least they finally cut out all the ridiculous theatrics they have always put into their courtship. At least their cutting to the chase. 

Suddenly I feel metal against my shoulder, hard, thumping against me almost knocking me to the ground. I look up to see Evangeline standing motionless in front of me, she looks tired, somehow seeming to have aged ten years in the last five minutes. She looks as though she has seen a ghost. 

"You better watch yourself, Haven" I growl, pushing past her.

Until I see what she was staring at and suddenly regret my words. 

Everyone knew the stories of what had happened to Larentia Samos. How she had been driven mad by grief for her husband and the gaping holes in her memories left by Julian's final command. 'Forget your children' and forget, it seemed she had. She looks worse than I could have imagined, the rumors having somehow done justice to the sickly old woman's condition. Black clothes cover her head to toe, a small grey kitten in her arms. She mumbles to herself as she crosses the hallway, entering an unmarked door I can only assume leads to the chambers Julian has provided for her. Gone are her fashionable clothes and menacing beauty. Now she looks like any other grieving mother. A victim of the war. 

I pull Clara closer to my chest, squeezing her tightly, running my hands through her hair. The image of Larentia is haunting. I want to apologize to Evangeline, but when I look up she's gone. 

For a second, I think about following her. Remember why you came back, my mind whispers. I turn on my heel and continue the walk back to Sara and Davidson, still holding the little one close to my chest. 

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