Chapter 12.1

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Everything had changed, Sabrina thought as she made her way out of the building that housed her apartment. The stonework had been cleaned and maintained; the grounds were well-kept; and the corridors were full of people, residents and workers both. It was a far cry from the gloomy, half-deserted place Sabrina remembered. This place hummed with activity, reminding her in a way of downtown Washington, or perhaps a college campus.

Following the map on her pad, she reached her destination more quickly than she had anticipated. She didn't recognize the building from the outside, and the main corridors had been renovated, but the apartment that housed her conservatory had been left alone. She shivered a little as she entered it, memories crowding around her. But she wasn't here to remember. She was here to pick a bouquet for Tassan, she told herself firmly. She could remember later.

The spiral staircase gave her the first indication of change in the rooms. Climbing roses meandered all down its railings, the soft white and pink flowers just beginning to open. She could smell an intense perfume from the conservatory above, and began to realize what ninety-two years had meant to her rosebushes. As she climbed the stairs, the reality exceeded her wildest imagining.

The room was filled with roses of nearly every color imaginable; Sabrina realized the Praxatillians had experimented with cross-breeding on their own over the years. One rosebush had a corner to itself; they had made a creditable attempt at the elusive black rose.

There were a great many Peace rosebushes, and she began picking out some of the choice blooms for her bouquet, then chose a white rose for her hair. She used the tools lying on a nearby table to cut the stems, then wrapped them in some of the waxy paper there. Someone obviously maintained the indoor garden regularly and with enthusiasm; she must remember to find out who, and thank them.

She got lost on her way back to her own apartment, after trying to go around the Ministry building rather than through it. She had assumed there would be a path between it and its nearest neighbor, the edifice that sat on top of Defense Control and housed their less-secure offices. But a wall blocked her way, so she had to go around that building too, and by that time she was completely turned around. The people she passed looked busy, focused on their own tasks, and she hesitated to grab one of them like some desperate tourist. Perhaps if she followed one of these people who looked like they knew where they were going, she would reach some kind of landmark. It was a quirky way to navigate, picked up from one of her quirkier friends, but it had worked from time to time when she got turned around in one of the many detours she encountered in the DC metro area.

Before she could choose a likely guide, however, someone called out her name. She turned to find a young man she didn't recognize, looking at her with a hesitant smile. "Yes?"

His smile blossomed in relief, lightening his face. He had light brown hair and eyes, and he reminded her strongly of someone she couldn't place at the moment. He was dressed as a civilian, though in the sort of quasi-military style Aurora favored and that Sabrina guessed was the preferred civilian government attire. "Well met, Cousin," he said. "I'm sorry to intrude, but I could not resist the opportunity to introduce myself. Even," he added with a grin, "if it is a serious breach of protocol."

"Well," Sabrina said, "I look on that as a promising beginning. I assume you're one of Ford's siblings?"

He laughed. "I think that's the first time I've heard myself referred to that way. Yes, I'm one of his brothers. My name is Baldaran."

"Baldaran! That's who you remind me of!" she gasped. "I didn't recognize the likeness at first. Then you're the Heir!"

"For my sins," Baldaran said ruefully. He had an understated charm, a boyish smile, and lively eyes that made her like him instantly. "I'm sure you must have plenty of useful advice to give me."

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