She’s still on edge, even though she shouldn’t be, has no reason to be. Bella isn’t interested in Beautiful, not like that, they’re just… friends. Friends who gush over each other. Friends who are still closer, after adventures together, than Dany is with Bella. And she’s doing an aesthetic, and it’s well-acted, but the awkwardness of not knowing how to react grates at her. She’s on the wrong foot, walking blindfolded, and Beautiful can tell all of that with just a glance, like she’s a girl made of glass.

“You could always try something new,” she blurts out, on the off-chance that she’ll get to stop calling this flawless girl on a self-destruct spiral Beautiful, a reminder that when she’s next to this Amazon, she’s small and ordinary. “Like… Pellamy. Or Gastrodaín.” Is that a name? Pellamy’s a name, at least. “Or, like this, in the rain… Night, Nox, Nyx, Nyxë? No, it needs to be smoother. Maybe alliterative. Noelle Knight? Or…”

She glances over at Bella and deflates a little, feeling even smaller and sillier. “Or just Beautiful. I suppose. The Beautiful Detective. Inspector Beautiful.” She fidgets, scuffing her heel against the floor, waggling the toe of her boot. “And we’re here because there’s three assassins here and we’re looking for the Fourth.”

It’s capitalized as it comes out of her mouth, she realizes. That’s the power of Beautiful’s story. The winner is the one who finds the Fourth. Four directions, four seasons, the four-headed totems of the Alcedi, the four arms of Alexa. That’s energy that she can work with, and Beautiful can too.