When Redana shows up, she's wearing a cape. Well, the cape's built into the double breasted Ceronian jacket, but it's still a cape. She deserves one here at the end, after everything. There are things she could have lost - there are things she has lost - and she is not going to let a cape for a princess-heroine be one of them.

She has been everyone: little girls and dashing princes, flustered dancers and plucky scouts, the thief and the bride. And now she's here. Standing, with a little smile, looking the wisest she's looked on the whole trip - or at least the most grown-up. She's holding a feasting board. It's handmade, but done with an eye for the details: meats high in fat and salt to put a patient to sleep, mellow half-cheeses to balance them out, a warm loaf of bread with sailor's butter in a bowl. The sort of food that would help with the process, once the unguents were chugged.

"Hi," she says, simply. Her hair's loose, falling in waves down to her shoulders. There's a fresh scent to it, one that even non-Ceronians might be able to pick up on. She has passed through the Acheron and come out the other side - less rejuvenated than her wife, but cleansed, none the less. She is present, and she is in control of her selves. "I brought this for him," she says, obviously, offering it with a casual grace. "How is he?"