For Daein

He turned away, but Charlotte was still able to catch that flush of red on his cheeks. She sneered slightly at his back. That was such a genuine reaction. It was almost…cute. “Oh, thank you.” She replied sweetly. She stepped into the room and let him walk away. When she turned to face the bathroom, she huffed quietly. 

Even the bathroom was huge, and he lived right near her! This was such bullshit, he own bathroom didn’t even compare to this. She grumbled as she placed the clothes on the counter and began to change.

Soon enough she was padding back out into the apartment. The clothes fit, thankfully, though they were clearly made for a man without a chest her size. Ah well, everything was still covered and decent all the same. She slowly began wandering back into the living room until the sound of water caught her attention.

She backpedaled and found him in the kitchen watching over a kettle on the stove. She cleared her throat this time first to make sure she didn’t startle him. “Thank you for the clothes.”

This time, Pelleas had been listening for the latch of the bathroom door over the sound of the water boiling on the stove, and had heard Charlotte’s footsteps before her voice, but it still required some control to turn around slowly enough not to seem startled by her. A rosiness still sat along the ridges of his cheeks, and even now that Charlotte wore a shirt, he found it difficult to keep his eyes on her face.

Quickly, he looked down at the counter and picked up two mugs - one in each hand - to show her.

“I’m making tea. Would you like a cup?” he offered sheepishly. The reality was that he was mostly making it for himself, to relax, but common courtesy dictated that he offer some to his guest as well.

Micaiah’s golden eyes followed Pelleas’s hand as he scribbled away within his notebook, marking down her ideas as she listed to them to the best of his ability. His handwriting had become incredibly familiar to her in the past year. She had grown accustomed to the way he formed his letters, the spacing between his words, and the way he signed his name. 

She appreciated Pelleas more than she could ever describe in words. He always carried such an incredible commitment and passion when it came to Daein, at least, that is what she assumed. He had always been sincere. His sincerity was largely responsible for her decision to support him when they had first met, despite Sothe’s reservations. She hoped her reliance on him was not a burden.

“Thank you Pelleas, I know I can.” She replied to his promise, knowing without a doubt that he would keep his word. Hearing that he was quite unfamiliar with Daein’s cuisine was comforting to her, though she felt a bit guilty for feeling as such. She too, lived a difficult childhood. Knowing that someone had lived similar experiences, yet was able to serve Daein in spite of that, reassured her that her role as queen was not a mistake. That she too, could serve the people of Daein. 

“It would be good for the both of us to know the traditions a bit better. You know Pelleas, my childhood was difficult too. While I don’t know what it’s like to grow up in an orphanage…I never met my own parents. For a long time, I felt abandoned. I felt an emptiness for a long time, with too many unanswered questions. When I found out the truth of my heritage, I was so overwhelmed. I never would have imagined I was truly from Begnion,” Micaiah admitted, “sometimes I’m still uncomfortable with it. Yet, Daein has been so welcoming despite that. It’s part of the reason I love Daein so much.” 

She paused, shaking her head. This was no time to discuss a subject so somber.

“Since you’ve been helping me so much, I owe you a dance at the ball! You will be coming, won’t you?” She asked, leaning down slightly to meet his gaze.

Micaiah trusted him so much, put so much faith in him despite his past mistakes, and Pelleas still could not understand why. He was grateful to her, of course, especially since she had allowed him to remain in her court after his abdication, but it did not stop him from wondering what she saw in his abilities. It was not in his nature to question often, however, and he let the thought fall to the back of his mind once more, pushed aside to make room for the overpowering positive feelings that Micaiah’s belief in him elicited. He smiled at her, but that smile faded to concentrated attention as Micaiah told him a story that was all too familiar.

She was just like him. Perhaps that was why… The revelation remained subconscious though, awaiting a moment hours from now to surface. Pelleas did not often become aware of such revelations until he had the time alone, away from the anxiety and embarrassment of the days’ events, to process deeper thoughts. For now, he simply looked at Micaiah with awe - and with inspiration, too - his jaw falling slack.

“Micaiah…” He barely whispered her name. Their circumstances were unbelievably similar, even down to discovering a heritage that had been secret to them for almost their entire lives. Of course, Micaiah truly was royalty, but Pelleas understood all too well the disorientation that came with being thrust into such a powerful position.

Pelleas shook himself back to the present, perhaps a moment too long after Micaiah had brought the conversation back to the topic at hand. His cheeks flushed as he was caught off guard yet again.

“Y-you would dance with me?” he stammered. Partly he was aware that Micaiah had simply offered as a return for a favor, but the nuance did not sink in immediately. To anyone else who worked closely with the queen, the promise of a dance might not have been a surprise, but Pelleas was nothing if not innocent and unassuming.

thecatbeast

Volke nods towards the young queen and steps past into the office. “I might know of a second treasury. For a price.” He scans the room. “Say… a hundred thousand?” Volke proceeds to toy with some of the trinkets on the desk. “… Then again, it looks like you’re a little strapped for cash at the moment.” He flicks a stray coin into the air. “How about ten thousand now, and another forty when you have the funds for it?”

Absorbing the man’s words, Micaiah paused, wearing an intent, but calm expression on her face. While it wasn’t concrete certainty, she did not sense that he was lying either. Surely he wouldn’t have come all this way, if his proposition did not have some merit? She listened to his price, watching as he mindlessly played with the few items on her desk. It seemed it was mildly amusing to him, though hardly serious. 

Though it was a large sum, it wasn’t unreasonable for the potential of Daein’s prize. A hidden treasury could easily hold a million, if not more, in gold. If it is as truly untouched as Volke seemed to imply, their chances were even greater. She was desperate and he seemed to know it. No ordinary person would request a only a fifth of the payment up front without certainly of being fully paid. Impulse told her to take the chance. She took in a deep breath.

“Pelleas, can you request an immediate withdrawal?”

The bid of confidence brought a not-so-subtle look of surprise to Pelleas’ face. That Micaiah would trust him even when he barely trusted himself was an honor that lifted his spirits as much as it embarrassed him. She hadn’t met the man yet though, and Pelleas - ordinarily naive - had thought him suspicious. But Daein was desperate, and the suggestion that the queen meet him was the last on a long list of leads that had gone nowhere. Pelleas simply hoped that this final avenue of hope did not leave them empty-handed like all the others had. Unscrupulous behavior did not worry him much now; Daein didn’t have much to steal.

Pelleas watched wordlessly as Micaiah went to the door and let the thief inside. The man was bold to make his demands immediately - and so nonchalantly - but Pelleas assumed word of Daein’s lack of funds was already beginning to spread. He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, praying silently to the goddess that he did not just open Micaiah up to being taken advantage of, and wondered why she was allowing such disrespectful behavior. She was the queen now, after all, and a monarch with much more backbone than he ever had.

“Wh-what?” Pelleas looked to Micaiah with widened eyes, surprised that she would agree to such demands so quickly. He cleared his throat and recomposed himself.

“I m-mean— Yes, very well.” He took up a pen and parchment from the desk and quickly wrote out a message to the treasurer. “I’ll send a servant, Your Majesty.”

He went to the door and handed the note to the guard waiting there and then returned to Micaiah’s side. A little closer this time, and leaned toward her ear to whisper his reservations.

“Oh, thank you Pelleas, but you don’t need to give me such high praise. I just want what’s best for Daein…just like you do,” Micaiah replied with a small smile, still unaccustomed to compliments despite having received them frequently for nearly three years, “there’s still much that needs to be done to get Daein back into a healthy nation. But I’m sure the people really look forward to balls and festivals…it gives them hope. Maybe simple comforts is just what they need.” Confidence returned to her, an energy that was far more natural than the doubt she had been experiencing just a few moments before.

“While Daein is my home, I did not spend my childhood here. Do you know which dishes are the most traditional? I would like for those to be served. Oh, but we must support some of the locals if we can! While we can make the meals in house, I want to purchase desserts from outside the castle,” The maiden decided, her mind working far more efficiently now that her mind was set, “oh and red, for one of the colors, in honor of Daein.”

She paused, glancing to the pile of papers she had brought with her when she initially searched for Pelleas. Then, with a sheepish smile, she pointed to one of the requests.

“And…the drapes…?”

Micaiah’s excitement brought light to Pelleas’ own eyes and he simply admired her. Her ideas were renewed with fresh energy, and at last she seemed genuinely excited for the event. Pelleas smiled, but suddenly realized that he wasn’t contributing anything but an awe-filled stare. He turned to the desk and quickly sifted through the papers for a notebook, flipped it open to the first blank page he came across and began scribbling down everything he could remember, and everything she just said.

The sentences were choppy and malformed, but they were reminders at the very least. He glanced up at Micaiah again as he finished the loop on the /d/ of /red/, scarcely registering her question.

“The drapes?” He hummed thoughtfully and looked back at the words in the notebook, leaning on the hand planted next to it. “Well, maybe those could be red as well? To match the flag? Ah, but… maybe that would be too much red…”

And then there was the decision for what would be catered. Pelleas tapped the end of the pen against his chin and lifted his gaze toward the ceiling.

“And the food… you know, now that I think about it, I don’t think I’m too familiar with traditional Daein meals either. I spent most of my life as an orphan, eating scraps just to survive. But…” He closed his eyes and tried to imagine some of the dishes Almedha had ordered for him over the past few months, wondering if they were truly Daeinite, or something foreign.

“During the short time that I was king, I remember having quite a number things with pickled cabbage. I wonder if that is one of Daein’s specialties?”

Or perhaps Almedha simply liked them.

Charlotte had to work hard not to let her face drop as her eyes ran over the apartment. Of course he was well off. She tried really hard not to think of her second hand couch back at her place as she eyed his.

“Hm? Oh, I-” Too late, he was gone before she could say anything. Charlotte scowled after him, but did as he asked and stayed put.The guy was weird, honestly. But he seemed harmless. And he wasn’t the worst looking guy she’d ever had to deal with. He looked like he might drop dead while talking to her though.

Charlotte took her time looking around while he hunted down some clothes. The place really was nice. The kind of nice someone who had cash to burn would live in, not the “we’re doing our best and we’re proud of it” nice. There was probably a term for that. Oh well.

She heard him walking towards her again and made sure to smooth out her expression before turning to him. The clothes he held out looked clean, though old, but she was so ready to get out of the damn bathing suit, she didn’t care. “Thank you.” She smiled as she took them from him.

And then he just stood there.

She could feel the corner of her lip twitch, so she turned it into a bashful frown. “Um…are you going to show me where I can change or…?” She supposed beggars couldn’t really be choosers but she hadn’t pinned him for a voyeur..

“Where to ch— Oh! Oh, y-yes, of course! I—“ The tiny bit of composure Pelleas had managed to cultivate and maintain shattered instantly, his cheeks flushing bright red from a combination of embarrassment and the thought that she might have just changed in front of him. He turned away quickly to hide it and walked a few steps down the hall again, pushing open one of the doors to a spacious bathroom.

“Y-you can change in here.”

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He fidgeting nervously until she entered and shut the door, then went to the sofa to wait. However, he couldn’t bring himself to sit down or make himself comfortable. His neck was still hot, and he pressed the back of his hand to his cheek - still hot, too.

While the typical monarch would have been offended by such words, perhaps even angry, Micaiah’s reaction was just the opposite. Rather than raising her voice, exchanging a glare, or otherwise expressing disapproval, she laughed. It was energetic, unadulterated joy expressed in a single sound. Her golden eyes had brightened considerably as lowered the hand that had failed to suppress her laughter. She found humor in Pelleas’s words simply because they were true; she was hardly the type to dress in anything glamorous. 

“No, you’re right! You don’t have to apologize,” She replied, her mood lifted, “even wearing a little bit of jewelry feels odd to me. It’s never been important.”

Her expression shifted from playful to thoughtful at Pelleas’s suggestion.

“Simplicity?” She repeated mostly to herself, absorbing the concept with a bit more dedication, “I wonder…what does that mean? I suppose…to me it’s home-cooking, the color of the sky when the sunrises, and enjoying the company of my friends. Living humbly…focusing on goals that make a difference.” She paused. 

“Our people…will they be disappointed at something that isn’t so lavish? I really don’t know what they’re expectations are,” She admitted, “but…maybe we could show them that there is richness in simplicity.”

Pelleas watched Micaiah, his own smile growing as she let loose her bright laughter. He was happy to see her smile and laugh again. The aftermath of the war had been difficult for everyone, but Pelleas felt that Micaiah had been particularly joyless after her coronation. Circumstances were finally beginning to improve for Daein, however, and with that, it was beginning to get a little easier to be happy.

With a gasp, his eyes widened, and his smile broadened even more.

“That’s brilliant, Micaiah!” His excitement was unfeigned. “I knew you’d think of a way to make this work for you. You always come up with such wonderful ideas, and I’m certain that everyone will love it, too.”

He removed the strips of cloth from his palm and laid them with the rest on the desk.

Well…he said he didn’t mind. And she supposed that if he was offering there was no point in her trying to not be the damsel. What the fuck was she getting depressed about? This was a golden opportunity, why the hell was she blowing it?

“Okay.” She agreed. She nearly pushed herself off the wall to follow him, but then remembered the whole she’d made in the wall, so she waited until he’d turned and started walking before following after him.

“I do believe that we’ve had a run in before.” Charlotte responded, glancing past him at his apartment. The same, and yet Charlotte couldn’t help feeling like he was already better off than her and Benny. She hoped they didn’t run into anyone else on the way. She’d deal with it, but she would really rather not.

“My name is Charlotte. Thank you again for offering, you’re so kind. I’m not sure I’ll be able to repay you for this…”

Clothes. Charlotte knew she was hot, but she definitely wouldn’t mind a giant t-shirt and some comfy pants right now. A shame she didn’t have a bra right now.

“Clothes would be nice, thank you.”

“Oh, there’s no need to repay me,” Pelleas insisted warmly. “I’m happy to be of some help.”

She seemed genuine, and that was more than enough to erase any of the doubts he had just moments ago. He led her up the flights of stairs to the top floor, then to his door, and fumbled with his keyring for a moment before finding the right one.

“Please, make yourself at home.” He held the door open for Charlotte to enter ahead of him. “I live alone, so, um…”

A nervous laugh covered the awkward silence that would have been there otherwise. The apartment itself was newly renovated, with hardwood floors and state of the art appliances, and it was spacious for a single bedroom. While the furnishings were relatively modest, the space was clearly high-end, but the frame of the picture that had fallen from the wall earlier still sat on the ground. Pelleas quickly grabbed it and shoved it onto a shelf, where it would likely go forgotten for the next several weeks.

“I’ll find some clothes for you. Just a moment.” Before Charlotte could say a word, he darted down the hallway and into his room, knocking the door half-shut behind him so that the sound of the latch wouldn’t give him away. He pressed his back against the wall as the realization that he had just brought a barely dressed stranger into his home crashed around him. Although he had known exactly what he was doing, he didn’t think she’d agree. And now she was in his living room and he had no idea how he’d spend the next hour or two before her roommate could come get her.

He closed his eyes and took in a calming breath. Then another. It didn’t help much, not while she was still out there. And before long, she’d start to wonder where he was, or what he was doing. He needed to pull himself together.

He went to his dresser and rummaged through a rarely-used drawer for a few old T-shirts he hadn’t worn in years, praying to the goddess that Charlotte wouldn’t question any of the logos or designs, and then braved the living room once more.

The maiden wore a somewhat surprised expression at Pelleas’s comment, before she twirled a lock of her hair sheepishly. While she always knew she was welcome to rely on Pelleas for matters such as finances, she had been approaching him more often than she would like to admit regarding that very subject. She made a mental note to vary her requests and to take time to spend with Pelleas outside of work-related duties. It had been far too long since they held a light conversation. She was broken from her thoughts when he spoke of the ball.

“Me? The focal point?” Micaiah repeated, absorbing Pelleas’s answer with a slight bit of hesitation.Though she was now the Queen of Daein, she still hadn’t quite adjusted to the public attention she received as a result of it. Even during her coronation it was uncomfortable to have so many eyes upon her, even if they were affectionate. Having Pelleas there had certainly made it easier.

Her hand reached out, her fingers brushing against one of the squares of fabric in Pelleas’s palm. She still hadn’t adjusted to the luxuries delegated to a monarch. Even the small square was made of such a fine fabric. It was strange how her life had changed so quickly. She lifted her eyes.

“Well…if I’m honest, I’ve only worn a gown once, and that was on my coronation day,” She began wearing a thoughtful expression, “hmm…I like pinks, blues, and whites. Simple designs always have caught my eye…but it might be too plain for a ball.” She leaned against his wooden desk her hands folded behind her back now that the stack of paperwork in her arms had been briefly abandoned. The sun was peeking in through the window and Micaiah appreciated its warmth on her skin.

“What do you think would suit me, Pelleas?” She asked.

Pelleas hummed thoughtfully. He was no designer, and the ins and outs of royal etiquette were still new to him, despite Izuka’s crash course to prepare him for the crown. Absently, he separated Micaiah’s preferred colors and gazed at them for a moment.

“I do admit that it is quite difficult to imagine you in something so extravagant— Ah! B-but that’s not to say that a gown wouldn’t suit you, Micaiah!” Pelleas’ cheeks grew warm and flushed. “I-I’m certain that you would look quite lovely in anything, but—“ He quickly averted his eyes and cleared his throat, chastising himself for acting so foolish. What was she doing asking him for fashion advice, anyway?

A shaky exhale slipped through his lips and he tried to focus on the strips of cloth again, on anything but Micaiah’s inquisitive eyes. He meant what he said, however, and now with the image piqued, was keen to see her in the finest silks and jewels.

As a Queen should be. That was all, he told himself. But he shook his head. That wasn’t Micaiah.

At Pelleas’s confession, Micaiah laughed. It seemed neither of them were the greatest at the role of being a monarch, but nonetheless, she sought out his advice all the same. Though there were many that questioned her reasoning, the maiden believed in Pelleas, even for the smallest of tasks. She could feel sense his sincerity in everything he did and his love for Daein was absolute. She trusted him and it was no surprise that the two had become good friends. 

Once she received Pelleas confirmation, she strode over to his desk, holding a stack of papers close to her chest. Then carefully as to not drop them, she placed them down onto the wooden surface, leaning over to search for the first item that had been brought to her attention. He murmured intelligibly to herself as she sorted, her eyes searching for a specific document.

“Oh!” Her eyes light up as she placed a document to the top of the stack, which additionally contained an envelope filled with bits fabric in various colors.

“I was asked to select drapes for the upcoming winter ball. In truth, I haven’t the slightest idea on something like this…they said it needed to match the dishes, but be a different color from my dress…both of which I haven’t decided either,” She admitted, “I never had drapes before coming to the castle. I have no idea what makes a set…good?”

Pelleas watched with curiosity, finding himself caught up for a moment in the nimbleness of Micaiah’s fingers. They were quick, decisive, but light and careful, much like Micaiah herself, and though Pelleas wished to step closer to see what it was she had with her, he did not want to encroach on her personal space without invite first. If those documents were private, for whatever reason, he had no intention of prying. But still he couldn’t help but wonder about them, as much as he tried not to, in the span of time it took for her to finally pull forth what she had been looking for.

Strips of fabric. Pelleas recognized them at once as the samples sent from seamstresses and decorators, and their familiarity released the tension in his shoulders, softened the serious expression on his face. He knew them well, as Almedha had been more preoccupied with dressing him and bringing life back to the castle than with the war, and he had spent some time apprenticing with a tailor shortly before his “discovery.” Pelleas smiled and stepped closer, taking a few strips and lying them side-by-side across one palm.

“I was expecting something to do with the allotment of finances,” he admitted. “But this is… Well, I have a little experience with it.” His fingers brushed across the different colors - some were the colors of Daein, others the shades of winter - and he lifted his eyes to Micaiah’s.

“This will be your first ball since the war has ended, so I think―“ He paused and exhaled a chuckle. “I know you may be opposed to it, but I think that you should be the focal point, Micaiah. Er… Lady Micaiah.”

Another laugh, brighter, but still self-conscious.

Charlotte thought there wasn’t much sense in helping someone when there was a benefit for you in it, but considering how much she’d been banging against the door, she supposed some shitty sympathy was better than having to deal with a noise complaint.

He (did she ever get his name?) fell quiet and Charlotte’s attention drifted back to the sky. Grey clouds were slowly rolling in. It seemed inevitable that it would rain soon, and Charlotte sighed at the thought. She didn’t enjoy the idea of getting rained on. She didn’t want to be cold and wet.

“Hmm?” It took her a moment to realize what he was offering and another moment for the usual dainty remark to die on her lips (his room? How forward…) when she caught sight of that pathetic smile. There was no fun in teasing him, not when she was cold and cranky and just wanted to lie down. “Oh, I…”

She hesitated. Which felt silly. She was always playing the damsel so why did being the damsel irk her so much? But he was offering and she was tired and…well, she already had no pride anyways.

“…I don’t want to be a burden, but if you really don’t mind…” She trailed off.

She seemed reluctant, and embarrassment washed over Pelleas. He knew it - that had been too strange an offer to make to someone he didn’t even know. And what if she thought that he simply wanted to have his way with her? His cheeks flushed at the thought and he quickly laughed to hide it.

“I-I don’t mind, really,” he insisted. She seemed to agree, but her hesitance didn’t quite bring relief, and Pelleas began to worry over what she thought he meant by the offer.

You’re overthinking again, he chastised himself and took a steadying breath.

“I live just up on the second floor of this building.” Turning to gesture toward his apartment afforded him the moment he needed for composure. “Oh! My name is Pelleas, by the way. I think we’ve been neighbors for a little while. I’ve seen you around before…”

His lost commitment manifested in his trailing words and he mentally kicked himself for not stopping sooner. He never knew when to stop talking, and if she didn’t already think him a creep.... He offered another sheepish laugh.

“Anyway… shall we?” Even in a position where he was expected to lead, he still deferred to the other party to take the first step. Realizing this suddenly, he motioned for her to follow and started toward the building.

“If you’d like something, um… warmer… um… I-I have some clothes you can borrow…”

No she wasn’t locked out she was standing out in the coming rain in nothing but a fucking bikini because she was trying to save money on showering- actually even that joke hit too fucking close to home fuck.

“Oh, no!” Charlotte gasped, looking up to the sky as well. She kept herself pressed up against the wall to hide the fist shaped hole she’d manage to make in it. “That would be bad…”

It was a stupid observation, but the guy was right. It did look like it was about to rain, and she really didn’t want to be stuck waiting for Benny in the pouring rain. Still, it’s not like he could just demand help from this guy who looks like he was going to have a panic attack every time he looked at her. She couldn’t help that she was that hot.

“I’m sorry if I bothered you. The door is just…stuck. I’ll be fine, my roommate should be home soon, don’t worry.” She smiled back at him, much more confident, even if she knew she sure as shit didn’t feel it.

Now it was Pelleas’ turn to gasp, and he waved his hands in front of him.

“No, no! You haven’t bothered me at all!” he insisted, even though just minutes earlier, he had gone to his window only to see who was making enough racket to distract him from his reading. “I saw you out here and, well… I think it would have been callous to simply ignore someone in need.”

Although he had been prepared to do exactly that.

A shaky sigh slipped from his lips and he glanced back over his shoulder toward his own building, then, mostly to bide his time as he sought for something more substantial to say, he pulled back his sleeve to check his watch. It was nearing the end of the work day. Maybe her roommate wouldn’t be much longer, he thought, and he could retreat quietly back to his room, pretending like this awkward exchange had never happened.

But that was a coward’s decision, and Pelleas was getting sick of always being the coward.

“Monster?” Pelleas echoed, unable to form any other words in the face of such fury. She looked absolutely indignant… and wronged, and all he could do was hold the Fenrir tome out uselessly. Like seeing it better would do anything to placate her. He looked down at it, not entirely unsympathetic to her feelings.

“Not from the dark god? Don’t insult me, only those who sell their souls to Loptous can achieve that power.” 

Miranda continue to spin her flame, compressing it further with her anger.  “Spirits?”  What did spirits had to do with this? Miranda had often heard tales that there were places in the world where the boundaries between the physical world and the spirit world are weak. For moments at a time, the spirits can interact with the living. But she never heard of any spirit granting any form of power to the living, much dark magic. “Explain yourself now!”

“That’s all I know!” Pelleas pleaded desperately. “When I was a child, I made a pact with a spirit and it granted me this ability. I knew it was rare, but…”

Now wasn’t the time to get lost in a memory of the past. He watched the flame burn ever brighter and more fearsome in the other’s hand and sweat began to trickle down the sides of his face, in front of his ears.

“Please. I don’t wish you - or anyone - harm! My―“ He stopped suddenly, realizing she had mentioned a name he didn’t recognize. “Y-you said Loptous is the name of that god?” His eyes brightened and he couldn’t help the nervous, excited smile that spread across his lips. “There’s no god by that name in Tellius, where I come from.”