Calliope had almost cried herself to sleep when she heard - and [i]felt[/i] - Alexander's door slamming. Slowly, Calliope sat up in her bed, the fact that she had been crying - was still crying - plainly visible on her face in the pale light of the moon. She let out a breath. What was [i]that[/i] about? What did Alexander have to be slamming doors about? His life was not chained wholly to this home. She let out a breath. Perhaps that was it. He was sick of being here at all. Well, that was that then. If he was no longer here, she did not need to hold on to her word that she would not 'run off'.

Calliope stood. She would do it - she'd run off and be her own person. She went to her study and emptied out her sewing basket. She would need jewels...and dresses...and underthings...she threw a fistful of jeweler into the bottom of her basket, tucked some underclothing on top of that, and a dress on top of it all. Calliope put on a cloak, and her only pair of sturdy boots - a bit too snug, but she figured it would be better than her normal slippers. She didn't have any food, but she wasn't hungry anyway, and most certainly her jewels were worth something. Surely she would find a shop that she could get food at when she became hungry.

Feeling quite well prepared - and really, being not prepared at all - Calliope left her rooms. Luck seemed to be in her favor. She met no one as she hurried along to the gardens. It was only when she reached them that she paused. If anyone looked out and saw someone walking through the gardens, she would surely be caught. So Calliope instead skirted around them, walking along their outer edge, near the training yards. She figured she was safe - after all, it was late, there would be no one training at such a time - until she saw a very familiar figure standing there in the worn grass and dirt. "I thought you had left." Her voice was soft, surprise and shame and, oddly, joy filling her all at once.