Lydia could understand Tilda’s irritation, but she merely waited it out, waited for everything she had said to settle in the girl’s mind, for her to make sense of it. She saw the moment it had all registered, saw the change in Tilda’s face.

“It’s the Baron’s blood” Lydia answered. She couldn’t even bring herself to pretend to be remorseful. The way she saw it, it really wasn’t a loss for anyone. The Badlands would be better off without him. Minerva would certainly be better off without him. “Minerva finally had enough, it seems.” Oh, Lydia couldn’t be more proud of her. The Baron had had it coming for a long time. It had only been a matter of time.

Relief, that was the first thing Tilda felt. She let out a breath, took in another, let it out slowly. She trusted Lydia at least enough to believe the woman was telling her the truth. She had noticed Lydia and Minerva growing close over the past couple of years, and if Minerva thought she could be trusted, Tilda was more likely to trust her too.

                THIS WAS THE LAST THING    she wanted to talk about.  It wasn’t something she really had ever talked about,  at least not in years.  She kept it to herself,  pushed it away,  pretended none of it had ever happened.  It was easier that way. 

                “I couldn’t see any other choice,”  Minerva answered softly.  “I… I didn’t have a choice in much of anything back then.”  This was even more difficult than she had anticipated.  It was the last thing she wanted to think about.  “I was young.  I was just a Cog.  The Baron had decided we were to be married, and… He would have killed you.  His Regent was kind enough to inform me of that.  I suppose it didn’t sit right with him,  putting a child so young to death.”  She swallowed hard,  her eyes cast toward the ground and only half-focused.  “He helped me find someone who could care for you,  told the Baron that you had been sick and had died.” 

               She paused,  wiping at her eyes before finally looking up at MK again.  “I didn’t want to give you up.  But it was better than the alternative.” 

     So that was it then. He wanted to stay angry, there was comfort in that. But knowing everything she had just told him, it wasn’t easy. She was the last person he had ever expected to feel sorry for, but that was exactly what he found himself feeling. She had been just as much a victim of the system as anyone.

                SHE STARED AT HIM FOR A MOMENT,    blood running ice cold.  Then slowly her brow furrowed,  her gaze lowered,  shoulders slumping.  She couldn’t breathe,  could barely even think straight,  couldn’t make sense of the sudden wave of emotion that crashed over her.  That was the last thing she had expected to hear from anyone,  let alone from him.  Of course,  she had always wondered what had happened to him,  had always hoped he had been happier,  safer than he would have been with her.  Clearly,  that hadn’t been the case.

                Minerva remembered that day too.  She remembered it all too clearly,  thought about it far more often then she ever wanted to.  It had hurt,  giving him over to the care of someone else.  It had hurt emotionally,  physically,  had made her feel as though she were leaving a part of herself behind.  

                 “I was trying to protect you.”  She finally managed to get the words out,  her voice shaking.  “I didn’t know what else to do…” 

        MK’s eyes narrowed. It didn’t make any sense. How was that protecting him? The memory itself was foggy even now. He couldn’t have been more than three or four at the time, but the confusion he had felt, he remembered that. And he remembered her.

minerva x lydia: this fine. it’s fine. i’m okay with this.

“I’m sure” Lydia promised her. She knew how much the girl cared for Minerva, the last thing Lydia wanted was for her worry needlessly. She shouldn’t have to worry like this at all. She was just a child, she shouldn’t have to bare these burdens.

“Tilda-” she began, standing back, her hands on the girl’s shoulders as she looked down at her, “The blood you saw- it wasn’t hers” she said gently. Well, the vast majority of the blood strewn about the large house hadn’t been hers, at least. Minerva had barely said a word since Lydia had found her, she couldn’t really be sure exactly what had happened. She had to admit, she herself had reacted in much the same way as Tilda was now. She had worried, and it hadn’t been until she had found Minerva alive and at least mostly unharmed, that she had understood what must have happened.

“She’s okay.” All she could really do right then was try to reassure the girl. “She’s alright, I promise.”

        Lydia’s answers were barely reassuring. She was hardly telling anything at all, much to Tilda’s frustration.

        “Lydia, I just want straight answers!” She couldn’t stop herself from sounding at least a little irritated. “What happened? Is she really going to be okay? Did the Baron- did he go too far? He had a lot to drink last night, he hurts her more when he drinks, it makes him angrier-” She forced herself to stop her nervous rambling, taking a deep breath.

                IT WAS A RELIEF WHEN HE LET GO OF HER.  She took in a gasping breath, but remained leaning against the wall behind her.  She was left a bit lightheaded,  the being able to breathe again was quickly beginning to remedy that.

                Minerva almost flinched,  startled at MK’s sudden yelling.  She stopped herself,  managing to remain completely still,  save for her brow slowly beginning to furrow,  confusion writing itself across her features. What was he talking about?  

                “MK… I’m going to need more information than that,”  she said calmly,  though in reality she felt anything but calm.  

                The commotion hadn’t gone unnoticed.  Minerva caught Moon’s gaze as her regent poked his head through the doorway,  gave a subtle shake of her head as she saw him reaching for his sword upon seeing MK there.  He didn’t look too pleased about it,  but backed out nonetheless.  Minerva was almost certain he was still lingering just outside the doorway,  just in case. 

                Her attention turned back to MK as quickly as it had briefly left.  “I can’t answer that question unless you tell me what you’re talking about.” It wasn’t easy to maintain a calm sort of rationality in that moment,  but the way she saw it,  that was really her only option. 

        “You don’t even remember me do you? You don’t even know who I am.” He wasn’t sure if that made it hurt more or less. Maybe it didn’t change anything at all. He unclenched his fists, clenched them again, just trying to release some of the angry energy boiling through him.

        “I remembered. I remembered everything.” He began slowly, lowering his voice just a little, though the hurt and the fury didn’t lessen any. “The woman who raised me, she wasn’t even my mother.” He had loved her as a mother, but she had lied to him all along.

                MINERVA’S EYES WIDENED,    fear and discomfort flashing through them for just the briefest of moments before her expression settled into one of cold calm.  She pushed aside any discomfort,  making room for the confusion she felt to take over instead – the still focusing on keeping that calm façade. 

                The first question on her mind was how MK had managed to get in,  but that seemed to be the least of her concerns at the moment.  His hand at her throat was tight,  too tight,  but she tried to ignore that for the time being,  tried to ignore that it was growing harder and harder to breathe with each moment that passed.  There was something in his eyes,  something she couldn’t quite place,  lingering there along with the anger he was so outwardly displaying. 

                “That question could refer to any number of things.”  It wasn’t easy to get the words out,  but she managed it,  albeit in a quiet and breathless voice,  not at all the steady and neutral tone she had been aiming for.  “I would appreciate it if you would  clarify.” 

        Anger, again. More of it, this time. It flared up in him, his free hand balled into a fist, slamming into the wall right beside her head. MK didn’t even notice the pain. The thought had crossed his mind that there was more to that memory that he didn’t know, but just then he didn’t care. He was too angry to care, too hurt.

        Furious as he was, he didn’t want to kill her. He’d never get his answers then. The only other person who could give him those answers was dead. MK let out a frustrated sigh and released his hold on her throat, took a step back. She had looked different in his memory, younger. Much younger, barely more than a child herself- maybe about as old as MK was now.

            He was furious, maybe more than he had been in his entire life. Everything he thought he knew was a lie, he didn’t even know what to believe anymore. There was a whole host of emotions coursing through him, ones he didn’t even understand. Anger was the easiest to focus on. Anger at least made sense, he understood it.

            Even with his memories coming back in bits and pieces, something had still felt off about it all, like there was something missing. Now he knew what that something was. Now it all made sense. That one missing piece, his mind had finally filled it in. Unfortunately, with that clarity came even more questions.

            It didn’t take him long to find her, once he had gone through the trouble of getting inside. That had been the hard part. Having joined Pilgrim, he wasn’t exactly welcome there. Now he was questioning even that though.

Though she was surprised by Tilda’s sudden rounding of the corning and running right into her, Lydia kept calm. It was hard to see the girl was distraught, and the last thing she wanted to do was make it worse.

Lydia had had much the same reaction when she had first seen the blood. She had received word from Minerva halfway through the night, and had immediately been on her way. Upon her arrival, the was greeted by a blood-covered Minerva, and she had all but panicked. She was much calmer now, thankfully, much more able to offer Tilda the comfort and reassurance she so desperately needed.

“Tilda,” she said gently, repeating her name to get her attention when the girl still seemed downright terrified. “Tilda.” She placed gentle hands on the girl’s shoulders, looking down into her eyes with an expression that was solemn, but still calm. “She’s alright. She’s fine.”

She pulled the girl into a hug, doing her best to comfort her. The poor thing looked half frightened to death, sounded it too. “She’s okay,” she repeated, smoothing a hand over Tilda’s hair, just trying to reassure and calm her. “She’s fine.”

            Tilda tried to just breathe, leaning heavily against the woman. Her mind was reeling. She had scene worse than that pool of blood on the floor, much worse. But the mere thought that that could be Minerva’s blood, that she could be dead- she didn’t even want to think about it.

            “Are you sure?” she asked, relieved by Lydia’s assurances, but still not completely believing them. “There was so much blood... Lydia, it was everywhere!” It wasn’t easy to calm herself, not even remotely. Perhaps she had jumped to conclusions at that sight, but it was a logical conclusion, was it not? She had seen how the Baron treated her. She had seen the results of his nights of drinking, his anger, his boredom, even. To say the man was cruel, that was a horrible understatement.

            Tilda had been bringing Minerva her breakfast like she always did, though the moment she had pushed the door open, the tray had dropped right out of her hands, dishes shattering loudly on the floor. Minerva was nowhere to be seen, but glaringly obvious in the middle of the floor was a pool of blood, more blood than anyone could stand to lose and still live. She could swear her heart stopped. No no no. Had the Baron finally gone too far? It was only a matter of time, it had always just been a matter of time. She could feel tears starting to run down her cheeks as she turned and fled the room.

            Rounding the corner, she found herself running straight into Lydia. Lydia? What was she doing here? Was Quinn here too? She had thought they weren’t due for a few more days still. It didn’t matter.

            She noticed blood stains on the woman’s dress, and stared up at her with wide eyes.