No sooner had she coaxed Rene to submit to sleep than Solae silently stepped back and surveyed her surroundings with a soft sigh. It would be preferable to maneuver him to the bed but there was no practical way to do so. Even if he did not weigh substantially more (mentally she could only make rough calculations), she had no real physical strength to speak of, and lifting any amount of dead weight was no easy task. The chair was an adequate resting place but she doubted he would obtain the same quality of sleep while sitting relatively upright as opposed to laying flat on his side, back, or stomach. Staring at him a few moments longer, her gaze fixating on the curve of his neck, she worried whether or not this would cause a sore muscle come down. It was a silly thing to fret over given their recent dire circumstances and yet she could not halt the thoughts. Her beloved should not only be healthy but he ought to be as comfortable as possible.

There was nothing to be done. Resigning herself to leave her soldier just as he was she withdrew from the room. Had he been any less fatigued she might have lingered with apprehension he'd stir when her presence departed. Fortunately he was lost in such a deep slumber there was no risk that it would be hindered nor interrupted by her restlessness. The marquise turned the knob as quietly as possible so that she would also not disturb her hosts. Tychon's low rumbling baritone drifted from a room down the hall as he valianty tried to persuade Damaris into bed. In response the girl giggled, squealed, and padded around in jubilant defiance.

"Can't sleep?" Julia asked kindly as Solae entered the kitchen.

Luminators tacked to the wall still basked the kitchen in a gentle glow of pale gold, not unlike the aristocrat's genetically modified hair color. The home's floors were a composite manufactured from ground seashells and coral dust mixed with cement, the latter of which was more expensive on the oceanic planet, then smoothed and finished with a polycarbonate. The late Marquess and Marquise Falia preferred exotic woods, plush woven rugs, and expensive stone native to worlds two jumps away from their estate. Panopontus's residents did not have the luxury of importing building supplies more than absolutely necessary. Those that did were wealthy merchants that profited from unfair trade agreements to their advantage.

"I can't either," the middle-aged mother admitted when she did not get an immediate response from the stunned noblewoman. "I feel like I was in a fog but seeing Damaris again has electrified me. I thought I'd give Tychon a chance to wrangle Damaris while I try to calm myself. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"Oh no, no thank you," Solae replied quickly, not wanting to inconvenience the family any further when she still felt an imposition at best. Every compassionate gesture from these innocents made her heart ache for their future. Were the duke's forces to fail to recognize the aid given to the fugitives, Tychon and Julia would still continue to live in poverty despite their hard work, and that felt insufferably unjust. Blasphemous as it might be, Solae did not know why she deserved finery based on birth alone and these virtuous souls could never earn a fraction of her financial security. Perhaps when this was all over she would investigate a means to reward them for their hospitality and generosity.

"Is Sir Rene asleep?" Julia inquired with a tilt of her head towards the nearby guest bedroom.

"Yes," she answered with a small smile. "After trying to salvage a boat to ferry us over here, outfitting it with an improvised engine, navigating us from our island across the sea, and then walking a bit of a distance to get here... he deserves a long, peaceful rest. Julia, we sincerely appreciate everything you are doing for us. Not many would be so charitable to strangers."

"Nonsense! What you did for us- you are family to us now. This is the least we could do. I hope you do not take offense, Lady Solae- "

"Please, just call me Solae," the linguist interrupted with her request.

"Solae, you look very tired," Julia finished. It was undoubtedly true. Since the discovery of Damaris on the beach of the caldera there had been no pause for even a quick nap. Though she had not exerted herself with manual labor she had been companionship, entertainment, counselor, mechanic, and coordinator during much of that span of time, and it had taken a toll she could not entirely ignore. There were corpses with less pallid complexions. "Are you missing your home?" the matron finally ventured. "You spoke of going to see Rene's family but not yours."

"Oh my... my parents are deceased," she struggled to confess. Surprisingly her voice was stable if not pitched higher from the tension in her statement.

"I'm... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean..." Julia tried to frantically apologize.

"It's quite all right," Solae assured as she cleared her throat. "There was no way you could know. I do miss them but I have Rene in my life and for that I am thankful. I am also glad to see that I was able to mend a family torn asunder by a natural disaster. These little things help ease the pain of my loss, silly as it might be."

Julia considered and, in an uncharacteristically bold move, crossed the gap between the two and embraced the other woman in an endearing hug. The marquise's eyes brimmed with tears at the affection, not just because she needed affirmation that there were victories in their circumstances, but because Julia seemed to be a mother she did not have in that moment of need. "Come on, let me tuck you into bed," she suggested as she felt the golden-haired 'princess' start to relax under her grasp. The intuition of the lower-class citizen was more finely attuned than many of the Empress's trusted advisors. "I'm sure you'll feel better by morning. We all will."