Eight Intertwined

147 - Solace

The sun was only barely starting to peek over the horizon when the group arrived in Noblecourt. Primrose let out a heavy sigh as she stared at the road ahead. It had been a long time since she was last in the city, but she hadn't really allowed herself to enjoy it before. Therion had a mission to carry out last time, and Primrose had been doing her best to ignore her own mission by hiding away in the inn. She wouldn't be able to get away with that again though, not if she was going to use Noblecourt as her newest distraction.

Primrose had to wonder if anyone in the city would recognize her if she saw them again. A decade ago, the Azelhart family was beloved by everyone who lived in Noblecourt. The retainers and servants of the house had scattered after Geoffrey's death, but Primrose knew at least a few of them must have remained in the city. She didn't know if she wanted to run into them or not. Maybe it would end well as her discussions with Arianna had. Maybe she would regret reaching out to figures of her past. She had no way of knowing for certain aside from just facing the situation head on. 

Primrose hated the fact that she was there. She would never admit it out loud, especially since coming there to Noblecourt again had been her idea in the first place, but being back in her hometown made a shiver sprint up and down her spine at breakneck speeds. Primrose had been fine with letting the paths of her friends dictate her future for the last few months, and she had no objections at all to continuing down that same road... But Primrose didn't want to follow the path their other plans had laid out, at least not right now. There was no place for the group to go aside from Wellspring at this point, and Primrose couldn't do that. That would leave her with too much time to think about Miguel, and giving him even a few seconds worth of thought made her feel sick to her stomach. 

Miguel. 

Primrose wanted to believe H'aanit was right when she said that she was different from him... But Primrose just couldn't bring herself to be completely confident that was the truth. It didn't matter how justified Primrose's past crimes were in her own eyes; there were others who would disagree with her actions. It was a horrible idea to buckle down and stubbornly push through her uncertainties after Miguel had sent her thoughts into such a sudden downward spiral, but Primrose couldn't think of anything else to do. She had made it this far, and she had to see it through to the end no matter how much the idea made her miserable. She owed that much to her father, to Yusufa, to Arianna, and to every other person who had suffered in the aftermath of the fall of House Azelhart. No matter what it took, she would reclaim her hometown. 

It was strange to think of it that way though. When Primrose first left, she had anticipated never returning at all... But there she was. She should have known the path of revenge would lead her right back where she began. The crows wouldn't be foolish enough to completely abandon their new nest so soon after they had made it their own. The right wing of the crow had decided to stay behind to ensure the city remained under their control. Primrose would have preferred to be able to take out both the right wing and the head just to get it over with so she could go back to her happy travels without any guilt weighing her down, but there was nothing she could do about it now. She just had to deal with it. She had seen countless injustices leading up to this point. She would be able to handle it. 

Then again, she had faced all of those horrors before she met Miguel. How could one man so irrevocably damage the way she viewed the world? A single death would never be enough for him in her eyes. 

"Primrose?"

The sound of Olberic's voice snapped Primrose out of her haze. The dancer didn't spare him a glance though, instead just shaking her head and starting up the path leading into the rest of the city. "Come on," she muttered. If she stopped for even a few seconds, she wouldn't be able to get herself moving again. She had to stay focused.