โ The queenโs voice broke as she talked. Staring into the camera, she willed the tears to stay. Her eyes grew glassy, and the small audience before herโpalace staffers and journalists, a mixed array of stone faces and quivering lipsโblurred into a white haze. The decision to speak had come early in the morning as she sat alone in bed. The windows and doors were thrown open, and she stared at the moon until she could see the rabbits dancing upon its surface. Her hair was gone by then, wrapped in a bundle to accompany her daughter into the first of her graves. With one hand, Beatriz felt her scalp, with its hair shorter now than even on the day she was born. Mothering had never come easy to her. Neither her children nor her subjects received her love in full, or the way they desired it, or when they needed it. She had tried her hardest for Sayfa, of which she made no secret. Still, because she could not trust herself to have shown it, she also could not trust that her daughter had known.
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โง woo, finally ! mixed feelings, but the important part is that it's done. my favorite part is the rowena guest appearance, personally :^)
TRANSCRIPT:
[RV] Good morning. Iโm Inti Rivera. Today, the nation prepares for the funeral of Princess Safya. This daytime in memoriam edition of UBC Nightly News will be followed by live coverage of the procession.
[RV V.O.] Princess Safya was born in 1950 to the recently crowned Queen Beatriz and her second husband, Matias Villar. With the preference for male heirs ended, the princess was presumed to be a future queen.
[RV V.O.] The Queen elected to reveal her daughterโs name at the annual naming festival in Yaas. She was the first royal infant in two generations to participate. Princess Safya would later do the same with all three of her own children.
[RV V.O.] Although she was her motherโs heir and began accompanying the queen on business early, the princess was also close with her father. Commentators regularly noted their similar personalities and interests, as did Queen Beatriz herself.
[RV V.O.] Mother Rowena, formerly queen, returned to public life following Princess Safyaโs birth. The princess shared her first patronage with her grandmother, and the pair became the most popular royals.
[I] Can you tell us where you were today, my princess?
[S] We visited an orphanage. The children are less fortunate, so we take care of them. Iโm happy to say that is my responsibility now.
[I] How did the princess do today, Mother Rowena?
[R] I donโt know how she can stand upright with a heart of gold! Sheโs full of empathy, this little girl, for others. Sheโll be a servant her whole life, just like her grandfather. I envy everyone whoโll live to see it.
[S] {Gasps.}
[RV V.O.] In the eyes of many, Princess Safya ceased to be a little girl when she announced her engagement in 1968 to Rodrigo Dardarich. The news excited the public but was not without controversy.
[S] Some will say this is quick. We accept that. It is. However, itโs also true what they say: when you know, you know.
[RV V.O.] The Princess married in 1969. In a first, the family shared behind-the-scenes photographs of preparation for the ceremonies. Her new husband, in another break from tradition, would not share Safyaโs titles. The princess penned a letter to the public for the occasion, calling her marriage, quote, โthe first true act of my own, my first real decision.โ
[RV V.O.] Critics who expressed suspicion of the relationship were vindicated soon enough. The princess and Lord Rodrigo became a favorite subject of photographers. The most skilled captured public arguments on multiple occasions throughout the years. These photos proved lucrative as interest in the couple and their life together continued to grow.
[RV V.O.] In 1975, the Office of the Crown Princess issued a formal statement refuting an โinvestigationโ published by Concordia that year. The paper alleged impending divorce, with lurid but unsubstantiated details of infidelity and financial strain. The Crown declined to support privacy legislation proposed by the Assembly of Uspana in 1976, 1977, and 1980.
[RV V.O.] Princess Safya and Lord Rodrigo gave a joint interview on the state of their marriage in 1985. The unprecedented, polarizing broadcast broke daytime viewership records. The interviewer, Isabel Eannes, was widely panned by most viewers and commentators.
[S] I donโt think thatโs a fair question.
[I] So, you disagree, then? You havenโt been unhappy?
[R] Sheโs unhappy right nowโshe hates combative journalists.
[S] {Laughs.} No! I donโt hate anyone. We asked for this. We begged.
[I] Letโs talk about the ring, then. Itโs new. Smaller. Why?
[S] People like us donโt get do-overs. But, weโre trying anyway.
[R] The alternative is being apart. Thatโs impossible. It canโt happen. We must try, even if it isnโt easy.
[S] Itโs hard, but thatโs love. โTo love someone is to suffer for them.โ
[I] {Scoffs.} That is Tecuani maxim, isnโt it?
[RV V.O.] The princess gave birth to her first child, Leonor, in 1970. To the nationโs delight, Princess Safya and her new baby were inseparable.
[R] Let us see her! Can you talk a minute? Share something!
[S] Weโre late for a meeting, Iโm sorry!
[RV V.O.] In 1974, Princess Safya and Lord Rodrigo welcomed their second child, Mateo. Her office announced two years later, on the heels of former Queen Rowenaโs death, that Princess Safya would be scaling back to, quote, โrefocus on her growing family.โ She would regain her place as Uspanaโs โhardest working royalโ by 1981.
[RV V.O.] Princess Safyaโs final child, Gil, was born in 1979. The princess had declared a decade prior that she hoped for a trio of children.
[RV V.O.] When asked in 1985 if she wanted more children, Princess Safya remarked that she was, quote, โretiredโ and โcontentโ to await her future grandchildren instead of โcompetingโ with her mother. Queen Beatriz has six children, all born between 1950 and 1962.
[RV V.O.] Princess Safya, like heirs before her, formally began her career as a working royal at the age of ten. Commentators described her that year as, quote, โarticulate,โ โcautious,โ and โsoft-spoken.โ
[RV V.O.] The princess and her younger brother, Prince Arnaut, became regular members of their motherโs retinue. The Queen described her feelings on the matter in passing during a press conference:
[B V.O.] โTeenagerโ is a weak term. Once, Safya would have governed a province in her own right as a teenager. No longer. We coddle and undertrain our heirs just like everyone else now. The assembly tells me thatโs a โparentingโ problem. Well, what I say is it certainly wonโt be my problem when Iโm dead, and youโre stuck with them! {Laughs.}
[RV V.O.] Queen Beatriz and Princess Safya were proactive concerning Leonorโs training as well. The pair remained inseparable in public, gaining valuable experience together. Before her death, the princess announced her daughter would join the team she intended to task with passing a new education initiative through the Assembly.
[RV V.O.] Princess Safya began crafting policy proposals in 1988 to encourage and improve access to higher education. In addition to boosting funding for Uspanaโs institutions, the princess was in talks with lawmakers to make attending schools abroad a feasible, affordable option.
[RV V.O.] Princess Safyaโs last official public appearance was during a tour of elementary schools in southern Uspana. The fatal yachting trip capped a month of nonstop travel. Having allegedly, quote, โhit a wallโ with legislators, the princess was focusing on what she did best. Commentators as well as school administrators, teachers, parents, and students described her in warm terms. The princess was enthusiastic and always connected on a human level with her future subjects.
[RV] That concludes this morningโs in memoriam special. Now, we go to Bernardo Rea for live coverage at Nakawe Palace.
[RE] Good morning. The mood is somber at Nakawe Palace as the family and silent gathered crowds prepare for the procession. Moments ago, Queen Beatriz unexpectedly announced she intends to give televised remarks. We are waiting to be invited inside.
[B] My firstborn will be interred today. I doubt that requires prefacing. How can it? Itโs reality. The burden is immense. Iโve done what I can to lift it from my family. After funeral rites, the most sacred ritual we have is to shear our hair. This is surrendering powerโspirituality vulnerability. It says, โGive me the pain of mourning. I can carry it for us all.โ Not just anyone can be so burdened. You must be ready. You have to be empty.
[B] My request for all of you, the hundreds of thousands who I suspect will gather across Uspana, is this: empty yourself for her. Cry for my daughter. Weep as profusely as you can. Fill the streets with water so it will carry her homeโto the mountains that chose her, that chose to take her away from us all, from me. We will let her go together, as one People.
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ย ย โย The last time all of Nakawe wept had been nearly fifteen years ago. Although many resented Mother Rowena before her death, mourning tended to cascade through the city. It swept even the most recalcitrant subjects into streets already flooded with their neighbors. They formed a white sea, dotted with colorful personal effects, carrying flowers, howling like storm wind, through which the funeral procession would float. That day in 1976 was recent enough that some felt themselves transported back. Arnaut and Matias had carried Rowena. They were paired, each clasping the otherโs shoulder as they bore the weight. More grayed now, Matias struggled less then. Todayโs chorus of haunting wails felt as familiar to them as the worn stones against their bare feet.ย
Leonor had been too young to appreciate deathโwhat it meant that she would never again see the boisterous woman who smelled of cigarette smoke and smeared red lipstick on her face with exuberant kisses. She and Mateo stayed home with Rodrigo. Years later, she saw a photograph of her mother, limp and sobbing as Beatriz dragged her along in the procession. Anguish contorted her features in the moment it captured. Still, it was an expression Leonor recognized; she knew how distress reshaped Safyaโs smile, dimmed her wide eyes, distorted the placid expanse of her brow. She recalled the image as her eyes trained on the hunched back of her motherโs body. In her periphery, she could also see Olalla and Blanca holding her grandmother. Beatriz departed the palace with squared shoulders and a calm demeanor, but now she could barely keep herself upright. The crowdโs sobbing receded, melting into an ambient hum around them. It was Beatrizโs desperate cries that pierced it. As she listened, wincing, Leonor wondered why she could not purge such ugliness from within herself.
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โง this scene has somehow been in the works, technically, since april of 2023โnine months since i started making poses, building the set, creating decos, messing with meshes and rage-quitting ... ! so glad itโs done :^)
โ For the last time, they beheld her. They were each aware of the momentโs passage as it unfolded around them. The day was not endless. This was a transitory reprieve, and life would move on. In the privacy of the sacrarium, they regarded her under this immense burden of knowing. Her likeness would exist in pictures and videos, enlivened yet flat, and it would recede year by year into the haze of memory. This faceโvacant and open, touchable, soft skin and fine hairs and curves of flesh that resembled their ownโwould decay. Already, it had. This was the uncomfortable truth boring into them as an unflinching stare from mortalityโs own eyes. Water and time had begun the work, even as the red paint obscured much. Death reshaped her. It gave her a mask. The mask transfixed because it was her, but every second spent gazing at it haunted them.
โง true fans will recognize the lil speech :^) anyway, funerals are hard. i wasn't sure what to write for this so, of course, i thought about my granny. she looked and felt different as soon as the life left her, and seeing her again later was surreal. anyway 2x, the context that didn't fit anywhere is that beatriz and rodrigo saw safya when she was found, but everyone else except arnaut saw her for the first time this day.
Face to face, there was no distance from the fact that she was dead. Hands that once cradled them turned to stone as they gripped her ankles. Lips that uttered loving words refused to part. All warmth had long left, taking with it the possibility of a comforting embrace. She was cold and waxlike nowโfreakish in her naturality, entrancing and repulsive. Clinging, grabbing, kissing, petting, they were desperate to embody the finality of this farewell. She did not return their affection.
While the people of Uspana gathered to honor the princess, the family turned inward to conducted this ritual in private. A priest offered wisdom and ruminations as they wept. Beatriz laid stones of jade at her feet. They would accompany her into the first of her gravesโcurrency in the underworld and necessary for any traveler. She and Matias wrapped themselves around the corpse and cried, not truly for their daughter, but for their loss. They all understood it was their duty to send her off in the proper way. Her body demanded care, and they gave it. Yet, through each motion, that distance remained. She felt nothing, and every touch was a comfort to themselves, even as the very reality of absence denied them any solace.
Later, they made offerings as her effigy, carved wood and painted red and attired in Safyaโs things, was set ablaze. Her true body would go away with less catharsis. It would change like seasons. Some of the family would return in twenty years to collect the bones. Others, they supposed, may return sooner. When they did return to this place, they prayed to do so having been themselves, in some essential way, changed.
TRANSCRIPT:
[P V.O.] This is a place of circularity. We return again and again: to marry; with our children; to become ancestors.
[P V.O.] In old places, we convene to see and to be seen. Our lives are neither singular nor bound by our time.
[P V.O.] Returning to this site, among the dead, where others have gathered before and will gather after, we feel it most.
[P V.O.] Memory of ceremony resides in old places. We let it, here, like blood. Ritual is itself the flintโas it were, whetted by practice.
[P V.O.] Our place in the circle obligates us to be here and to embody ceremony. Yet, obligation is a matter of the heart, not the body.
[P V.O.] To be truly present is a choiceโto live, right now, in the body that is excruciated by loss.
[P V.O.] This family marries suffering to devotion in a way that is perhaps violent to the self. Yet, that is indeed how we are asked to mourn.
[P V.O.] Mourning purges the pain, allowing us to be destroyed like the world itself has been. That is circularity, too, in a most sublime form.
โ The immense love they felt for one another was undeniable, but Beatrizโs peculiarities complicated it from the moment of Safyaโs birth. She understood her daughter as a precious, almost perfect creationโsomething to be held at armโs length, admired, both deserving of safeguarding and necessarily deprived of it for her own good. This was the contradiction that caused such tension. Safya lived in an enclosure of her motherโs making, but it did not spare her from pain. Beatriz lived with constant awareness that her maternal feelings were a raging hurricane, and her daughter alone resided uneasily in its eye.
โง idk idk idk i just love this setting !!!!! it's THE spot of circularity in This Story Where Time Is A Circleโข ... anyway, enjoy this cursed beatriz pov
Always, Beatriz could imagine no better legacy than her daughter. She would, with her kindness and nobility, be a gift to the People. Uspana had once been dying a slow, protracted death with a kind and noble king at its helmโone who was, in more than one sense, dying the same wayโbefore Beatriz intervened. She was a harsh, insistent nurse; her patient, the sickly country, recovered to grow strong once more. She fed Safya the same medicine for forty years, and her daughter remained undaunted. That was evidence of strength, Beatriz thought. It held promise. The nation craved gentleness, and she held out hope that Safya could someday satiate it.
The specter haunting that hope had been her own father. Beatriz thought of him with the same tormented intensity, her straining heart more inclined to rip in two than reconcile itself. Love and disappointment had commingled in her affection for him for almost as long as she could remember. Even as a child, she abhorred weakness. Her father had personified its most inexplicable form. It challenged her understanding of what it meant to struggle, to be trapped by oneโs own nature, to be wholly good yet fully condemned. She had hated her mother for her self-destructive folly, but the same weakness plagued her father. Although not the reason she forgave him, it was why Beatriz existed. She had tried to eradicate it from her daughter, or to inoculate her from its worst effects, but the truth was now naked: Beatriz had failed, and that failure proved deadly for Safya.
โ As Mateo probed, Leonor allowed their fatherโs responses to crest and crash over her. Each question cast a shadow. Each answer, the impact. She could see the scene he described playing out. They stood in the courtyard of the sacrarium, but they also stood out on the deck of the Safyanora. They watched. Although not up close, Leonor had seen the yacht. She recalled enough to have a stage for the tragedy that unfolded; years of memories brought to life the clouded, halting admissions her father uttered. They were ghosts on the deck, shouting at each other and breaking things and following the only script they knew.
โง poor gil left out of the family huddle :/ i wonder where he is
It was true what she saidโthat she hadnโt wanted to think about it. Leonor knew on some level that, while she and her brothers were cloistered away at Nakawe Palace, the police questioned her father and the other passengers well into the next morning. They pieced together a version of events, and they shared that story with Mother Beatriz. The children received the barest fact: she had accidentally drowned. That was what Leonorโs mind fixed upon. Her motherโs absence, so fresh that it was difficult to truly grasp, took the form of Safya submerged, screaming, terrified. When Rodrigo entered the frame, it wasnโt as a comfort or a consolation. He was the anguished figure apologizing to her at the marina while flashbulbs remind them of the harrowing truth at the heart of their existence: โ Nothing is ever simple, and no one has ever respected her privacy. โ
Although unwilling to shy away herself, Safya had been fierce in defending her children from the harsh scrutiny inherent to public life. She insisted they receive the benefit of childhood. Mateo and Gil, still, enjoyed the privacy that propriety demanded for them. For her part, Leonor was no longer a child but had yet to find the spotlight glaring. She stood on the periphery where her mother, tall and strong, happily shaded her. The death was disorienting; in an instant, it plunged the family into a state of suspension. Yet, that great and awful pause, the moment after an explosion of tragedy knocked them to the ground, was coming to an end. It was Rodrigo who seemed to regain his senses first. In doing so, he reminded them that their mother was also no longer there to shield them. The shade was gone.
TRANSCRIPT:
[R] Can I disturb you?
[R] Iโm not sure itโs a good time for quiet reflectionโnot for me, not yet. I need to talk to you, if thatโs okay.
[R] Nora?
[L] Okay.
[R] Iโve missed you. Iโve been worried about you.
[R] You must have questionsโabout everything, her, what happened that night. How could you not?
[L] I didnโt want to think about it.
[R] You need to know it was a terrible accident.
[L] I do.
[R] There was ugliness, but it was normal. Everything was going to be fine, and then she just never came to bed, and Iโ
[M] Why are you out here without me?
[R] Whereโs your brother?
[M] Are you talking about her?
[R] {Sighs.}
[R] Fine, together. Thereโs no good time for this conversation. Sooner is better. I was telling Leonor about what happened, how sheโ
[M] She fell and drowned.
[R] Yes. But, well, you know what happens to us. Nothing is ever simple, and no one has ever respected her privacy. I just want you to be prepared for what comes next. Everyone else. The press. Others.
[M] I donโt โฆ Thatโs not โฆ Why would they do that to us?
[M] You know why, sprout.
[R] I want you both to be brave and strong. But, you canโt do that unless you โฆ Unless you feel like you know whatโs going on. You canโt be in the dark about anything. I donโt want thatโshe didnโt, wouldnโt.
[M] Did you fight?
[R] We did.
[M] โฆ Did anyone get hurt, beforeโ?
[R] A bottle broke. Thatโs thisโsee, small cut, thatโs all.
[M] And her?
[R] She was drunk. Stumbling around, falling down.
[M] Why were you fighting?
[R] {whispering} We never needed a reason, did we? I donโt even remember. She walked off, and I went to bed, just exhausted, and then โฆ She wasnโt there. She was gone, disappeared. Gone. I โฆ I wish I hadnโtโ
{Rodrigo sighs, shakily.}
[M] Iโm sorry.
[R] Iโm sorry. She should be here with you.
[M] We still have each other. Weโre still a family.
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โ It seemed easier to worry about the responsibility. Arnautโs life as crown prince had not formally begun, and it wouldnโt until the mourning period ended. Yet, he grasped its weight as soon as Safyaโs body was sealed away. He wanted to be crushed by it, with hope that it would somehow distract from the fraternal pain of loss. He had learned alongside Safya out of obligation but absorbed only a fraction of what she did. There was disinterest and laziness. There was also the inability to imagine a world where he needed to do her job. She would never need him to take meetings or parse policy for her. His flimsy mastery of statecraft, his failure to remember details, his penchant for wandering into mischief โฆ It was all unimportant. What she needed was someone who understood. In public, Safya maintained a brave face. She weathered criticism well, whether from the media or her mother. Their relationship was where she exhaled. Even once an ocean separated them, Arnaut knew it was his responsibility to give her that.
He remembered quickly, almost immediately, that his inheritance was inseparable from her absenceโthat what he had given Safya died with her and that he would be, for the first time, alone.
โง thank you @/trentonsimblr and @/ardeney-sims for letting blanca visit your countries askdfj anyway, i've been excited about this scene ... what do they say? hurt people hurt people? yeah. also everyone is contractually obligated to ignore the lil mistake that i did not notice until everything was done and queued djdhfj
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[B] I have a show in Aducia in two months, then onto Trenton.
[A] Youโre joking.
[B] Why would I be?
[A] It doesnโt make sense.
[A] How can you just leave us?
[B] Did you think I was staying? Come on.
[A] Running away, now of all times?
[B] Donโt you dare. Your responsibility is your problem, not mine.
[A] Itโs a family problem, Blanca. Extraordinary. Everyone has to change. Youโre still part of the family, arenโt you?
[B] Thatโs not fair. You donโt get to lectureโ
[A] I do! The family needs you, and youโre never here. Itโs time.
[A] Mama may let you come and go, but that doesnโt mean itโs right. You have to know that.
[B] You werenโt here either. Donโt tell me you didnโt feel guilty.
[A] Itโs not the same. It wasnโt a choice the wayโ
[B] It is. We both made choices, and I wonโt feel bad about any of mine just because you have regrets now.
[A] No, I donโtโ
[B] Why argue, then? You didnโt want this. I know you didnโt! Youโre not ready for it. Everyone knows. The whole country knows. Theyโre more forgiving of walking away than getting sent off.
[A] Stop. Itโs that โฆ Look, I need you. Thatโs it.
[B] This is how you show it? Persuasive.
[A] Sheโs gone, and no one can replace her, but โฆ If I have to be here instead, then I need someone who gets itโgets me.
[B] Papa? Martin, Sebastianโ
[A] Seriously? Youโre the spare now, Blanca. You should be.
[A] But, you run away from anything difficult. You ran away from your own childrenโ! Safyaโs gone โฆ I have to do her work, so I guess theyโll be my responsibility, too. Consequences you leave for other people to clean up are still consequences. They catch up to you eventually.
[A] I shouldnโt have said that.
[B] You made your point.
[A] Iโm sorry.
[A] Blanca โฆ
[B] Let me go. Youโre being cruel, and I know you arenโt cruel, so Iโm going to forget we had this conversation. You should, too.
ย ย โย Leonorโs sign was rain. On the day she was born, her family summoned a daykeeper to the estate so as to divine something of her life. It was customary, and the old man who arrived had once been the youthful apprentice of a past royal daykeeper. He carried a large leather bag as worn as himself. When bidden, he shuffled into the bedroom where Leonor lay on her motherโs chest, skin to skin. She had no given name yet; that would come later. He called her by the day as he spoke to a black mirror on her behalf. It was her name now, after all, as the first of many. The world through the obsidian would know her best this way. Safya watched with tired, anxious eyes as the daykeeper studied its reflection. He did not speak until he had rolled out a sisal mat and begun to scatter kernels onto it.
โง bad beatriz bullying bereaved baby / "grandma help me" "you're fucked because fuck you, cosmically"
โ Rain is fickle, โ he explained. The kernels tumbled from his palm in their own downpour. โ In one way, life. Growth. All beautiful and blooming things require rain. In another, death. Destruction and devastation. Floods. Rain cleansesโa certain purity to it. Thatโs the nature of destruction. โ
Entranced, Safyaโs head lolled as she watched the kernels fall and bounce.
The daykeeper nodded to himself, saying, โ It comes from the mountains. They weep for usโfor whoever is born under this sign, one of theirs. And this one, so capricious. โ
She had asked him if it was a bad thing, and he smiled. โ Nothing is bad, my princess. Only difficult. โ
โ Will she be okay? โ Safyaโs pitch rose as she pressed him.
The daykeeper bowed his head. He replied after a long moment of consideration, one spent eyeing the kernels littering the mat. โ That will be a matter for her and them. โ
TRANSCRIPT:
{Beatriz, muttering to herself}
[L] Mother Beatriz! Can I talk to you? Beforeโ?
[L] I had a question.
[B] Whatever it is, I know it can wait.
[L] Please.
[B] Fine. Swiftly.
[L] Had you cried yetโreally cried, mourning cried?
[B] What?
[L] Before today.
{Beatriz sighs}
[L] Itโs bad luck. Itโs disrespectful. But, it happensโฆ Doesnโt it?
[B] You tell me.
[B] What, do you want me to say itโs okay? It means nothing? That Iโve been weak as well? I havenโt. I followed the rules.
[L] {Sniffling} I tried โฆ
[L] I couldnโt control it.
[B] I donโt believe you.
[B] Itโs a test of faith and favor. If you donโt have favor, you need faith. Lacking faith, hope for favor. I would be concerned if I were you.
[L] I am. Iโm afraid.
[B] You were born on an inauspicious day. Maybe now weโll see why.
[L] I donโt โฆ Itโsโ? I need you. You have to help me.
โ Finally, the family emerged to conclude the day. Their work was not yet doneโit wouldnโt be anytime soonโbut the obligation to perform together in a spiritual sense had ended. Now, they turned inward. Mourning afforded a rare taste of full privacy; how they spent it was to be seen, but the nation granted them temporary permission to disappear. Leonor, for one, intended to follow tradition to the letter. She would go home and remain there, living like a ghost. Accompanying her as she left the sacrarium was the fear that she had somehow introduced chaos by failing to adhere to the rules. Worse, the consequences were unknowable. Some of her relatives foresaw boredom and impatience in eighty days of mourning. To Leonor, the prospect of contemplative solitude felt like a chance for reestablishing orderโfor atonement, perhaps.
โง that's a wrap on episode two !!!!!! we did it !!!!!! i was gonna write something good and interesting, but ... meh, felt weird today, ran out of steam :/ i am quite proud of the writing i did for this episode, as a whole, tho. more to come !
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TRANSCRIPT:
[A] Leonor?
[A] Are you sure you want to walk alone?
[L] Is that okay with you?
[A] I think I understand how youโre feeling.
[L] I donโt need talk about it.
[L] I donโt need a hug either.
[A] Oh. I felt like it would help?
[A] With what happened today โฆ Leaving here, leaving her โฆ
[L] It happened. Itโs over. I can handle it.
[A] Well, I donโt think I can.
[L] Weโre different, uncle.
[L] I know you feel responsible or something, and maybe Mama would want that, but I donโt.
[A] I remember when you were born. Itโs hard to not feel that way.
[L] Try. Right now, youโre making this day worse, not better.
[A] That wasnโt my intention.
[L] Doesnโt matter. Can I go now?
[A] Sorry, sure, of courseโ
[A] What are you doing, Blanca?
[B] I wanted to walk with you.
