Now that she was here in her scarf and coat, Zelda almost regretted coming. Since she was here she would have to explain why to Dionisia - only part of why, of course - and that was going to be incredibly awkward.

She didn't even know how to explain it. She'd known better than to let things with Alfred go so far - she'd been sober, and she'd known the stakes, and Alfred had been drunk. If anyone was more responsible in this situation, it was Zelda, who had known exactly what she should do the whole time. But - despite the danger, she hadn't wanted to stop - all she had wanted last night was Alfred.

She didn't know how to explain that, to herself or to Dionisia.

Still, she was here. And she'd been right - she didn't have any other options. Zelda brushed the ash off of her coat and stepped away from the fireplace. Looking nervous, she tugged her scarf down to expose the purple mark on her neck.

"Help," she said, flushing pink and pulling her scarf back up after a few seconds.

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