Scarlett watched Rosa, a small, amused exhale escaping her.

Of course the woman would latch onto the least important detail before touching anything else.

Scarlett leaned back in her seat, arms folding across her chest, her voice taking on a patient, almost lecturing cadence. "Those 'square glowing things' were monitors."

Rosa's brow furrowed. "Monitors? As in, like, watching? Were they…monitoring you?"

"No. A monitor is a device through which one can view and interact with what we called computers, or 'PCs' — our equivalent to this world's magical artifice."

"Computers?" Rosa echoed. "Isn't that a…person? No? Those folk who sit around doing number-work."

"The word has etymological roots in that direction," Scarlett said. "But in my world, it referred to programmed devices capable of performing millions upon millions of calculations in the time it takes a human to do one."

"Millions upon millions?" Rosa leaned forward. "Are we talking hyperbole here, or…?"

"We are not. In fact, that is likely an underestimation. Perhaps it is billions. Trillions."

"Alright, so we are speaking hyperbole."

"We are not."

Rosa squinted.

Scarlett raised a brow. "You have witnessed Zuver relics create entire realms of false reality, and yet you doubt a computer's capabilities?"

"The Zuver didn't toss around big shiny numbers."

"I can assure you they most certainly did. You simply have not come across the records."

Scarlett was familiar with plenty of Zuver writings thanks to Thainnith's legacy, and she wasn't afraid to admit that the vast majority of it was far beyond her understanding. If it weren't for the legacy itself helping her comprehend it, she herself would be lost most of the time.

"Okay, fine. Let's agree to disagree," Rosa said, flopping back in her chair.

"I would prefer not to."

The bard waved lazily. "Bagh. You're getting too tangled up in details. Speaking of—" her expression sharpened. "You called them monitors, but you were the one watching them? Isn't that backwards? That's what we here in this world would call semantic irony."

Scarlett opened her mouth, then paused, a faint frown touching her lips. "…In truth, I had not considered that before."

Rosa wagged a finger. "See? Bad naming sense. 'Computer' I can at least halfway accept if it's doing number-stuff, but 'Pee-cees'? Monitor? Terrible."

"It is spelled P-C," Scarlett corrected. "As in the letters. An acronym for 'personal computer,' denoting they were small enough for individual use. As for monitor…" She tilted her head slightly. "…I suspect it referred less to your monitoring of it and more to it serving as a window monitoring the state of the computer itself. Perhaps the term borrowed from an older usage where the link was clearer, but I cannot say. I was never an expert in such matters of computers and the digital. That was more my sister's domain."

Rosa's eyes widened. "Digital? No, wait — sister?" She blinked, muttered something under her breath, then leaned forward again, her shawl slipping down her shoulder as she forced a narrower squint. "Okay, we're circling back to that, because I'm guessing you don't mean Evelyne. But first, mocking your naming conventions takes priority. What's 'digital' supposed to be?"

Scarlett regarded her for a moment, then shook her head. "If I were to answer properly, we would be here for hours, discussing numbers, machines, electricity, codes, networks, servers, the world wide web, the internet, and much, much more. It will simply have to suffice to say that 'digital' came to denote, in common speech, the entire sphere of devices, practices, and the intangible domain they inhabited and connected through."

Rosa only squinted harder. "…I'm starting to see my mistake now. You can sling whatever gilded words you like together and I'll have no choice but to nod along, none the wiser. I'm about half-sure I understand most of those individually, but strung together it's like listening to a drunk minstrel trying to rhyme. And 'digital'—" she held up her hands, wiggling her fingers "—these are my digits, aren't they? So unless your world thought fingers were secretly sorcery, I'm lost."

"We did think it was sorcery," Scarlett said.

Rosa froze, her fingers hovering mid-wiggle. "…Nice try, but you're not pulling the wool over my eyes that easily. You just told me you didn't have magic, missy."

Scarlett's mouth curved faintly. "It is not entirely a lie. In a sense, the way ordinary people perceived and engaged with digital devices was not unlike them being sorcery. But no, 'digital' in this case does not refer directly to fingers, though the word was derived from the same original meaning. You could consider the reasoning as fingers being discrete, as are the numeral values on which all such machines operate. This is in contrast to the more continuous natural world."

Rosa stared. "That was a really elegant way of saying, 'don't bother, you won't get it'."

"…You may simply think of it as sorcery."

"Now that I can work with." Rosa gave a decisive nod. "But you do realise you folk had awful naming sense, right?"

"While it is unconventional at times, it was not awful. Much of it was even rooted in Latin, which simplified matters across languages."

"Latin?"

Scarlett hesitated. "…No, never mind."

That was a snare of questions she had no intention of stepping into tonight. The very thought of explaining how this world's Modern Imperial was a Fate-twisted descendant of English and Latin was enough to give her a headache. She just knew Rosa would somehow find a way to have too much fun with that. And while she herself knew some Latin from her studies, she had no intention of dredging that up here.

Rosa eyed her suspiciously, but eventually gave up the chase. She righted her shawl, tugging absently at it as she settled into momentary silence.

Scarlett felt the shift in the air and waited.

"So," Rosa said after a while, maintaining a degree of nonchalance. "You've got a sister?"

Even tossed casually, Scarlett heard the…care beneath the question.

"…I do."

"Can I ask her name?"

"Skyler."

"Oh? That's a pretty name."

"Better than Amy?"

Rosa's lips quirked. "Well, I wasn't going to say anything, but…"

Scarlett snorted. "She would have liked you, unfortunately. Unlike me, she found your sort amusing."

"Yeah? You saying she had good taste? And humour, too."

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"No. Terrible, both." Scarlett shook her head. "She and I were…very different."

Rosa studied her. "You're the older one, I suppose?"

"I am."

"Mm. Got that feeling. How old?"

"Similar to Evelyne."

"…Ah." Rosa went quiet.

Scarlett tapped a finger against her forearm, waiting.

"How is that?" Rosa asked. "The…Evelyne thing, I mean. If you're actually Amy, then…"

"I do not know," Scarlett admitted. "It is…complicated."

"I bet. But I've seen you with her. You've told me how she makes you feel."

Scarlett's face stayed neutral, but she remembered some of the darker thoughts about Evelyne she'd once confessed to Rosa.

Rosa's eyes didn't leave her. "…So most of that was the other Scarlett? The…you know, villainous stuff."

Scarlett lowered her head. "It was."

"What parts were you, then?"

"…I am not certain. In some ways, I imagine all of it. The good and the bad."

"Because you're not sure where you'd like to draw the line between Amy and Scarlett?"

"Indeed."

"Alright." Rosa smiled softly, encouraging. "Well, that's what we said we'd figure out, right? I'm sure we'll get to some kind of answer."

Scarlett considered her. "And how would you suggest we begin?"

"No idea. The old noggin's scraping the bottom of the barrel right now, but trust in me." Her smile widened. "It'll come to me eventually."

"I am sure," Scarlett said.

Honestly, she didn't entirely doubt it.

The grin on Rosa's face faded. "…Are you planning to tell Evelyne about all of this, then?"

"I am not."

"You sure? She's your sister."

"I believe I just finished explaining why that is, in fact, not the case," Scarlett said.

"No, I know." Rosa looked her in the eyes. "But she is your sister, Amy. Don't you think so? At this point, I don't think how you got here matters."

Scarlett met her gaze.

Despite everything, she had never—not once—allowed herself to think of Evelyne as her actual sister. She'd been careful about that, always. She hadn't wanted to delude herself or stumble into a lie for comfort's sake. Or maybe she just wanted to remind herself.

But…she couldn't deny that part of her—and not only the Scarlett part—did see the younger woman as family now, however tangled and fraught their bond had been.

Her lips pressed thin. "…Perhaps. Perhaps not."

Rosa kept watching her, then nodded. "Not saying you should think of her as a replacement or anything. Probably shouldn't. But…I'd just like for you not to fence yourself in where you don't have to."

"Your concern is appreciated, Rosa."

The bard smiled again. "Good." She paused. "…Do you miss her? Skyler, I mean, this time."

"I do. At times."

"Then…do you want to go back? To your own world. Is that your goal?"

Scarlett fell silent. "…I cannot answer that."

Neither of them spoke for a while. Eventually, Rosa leaned back, eyes drifting to the ceiling. "A tough one, huh? I know I'd be torn, at least. There were times, in those visions, where I thought maybe it'd be easier to just stay there. And not seeing your family again, your parents, your sisters — that would wear, wouldn't it?"

"My parents are dead," Scarlett said. "As for Skyler…she is here as well."

Rosa's head snapped back to her. "Wait. She is?"

"Yes." A hard edge crept into Scarlett's voice. "I do not know why or how, but I saw her in Beld Thylelion, along with Leon and other companions. The Other—the entity that brought me here—appears to have cast her in some sort of 'hero' role, as part of its indecipherable games. Perhaps to torment me."

"That's…Blazes, that's…I don't even know." Rosa hesitated. "Is it terrible? Sounds like it might be. But…did you at least get to speak with her?"

Scarlett shook her head, jaw tight. "I did not. I was forced to fight her and her party, bound to the role of 'Scarlett Hartford'. And there is still a quest demanding I continue."

"That's…twisted."

"It is."

"You mentioned this 'Other'. I…honestly, I lose track with all the grand titles flying around, but I don't think I've heard of that one before. Who are they?"

Scarlett studied her. "…I do not fully know. Only that he—or it—brought me here. That it has shaped this world's history through Fate, and is likely far beyond its gods."

"…So. Some kind of…mega god?" Rosa ventured.

Scarlett gave her a long, flat look.

Rosa raised a hand. "Sorry, I know how that came out. I really wasn't trying to make light. But I've never heard of anything beyond the gods before. Not even that 'Anomalous' talk seemed to go that far."

Scarlett sighed. "I know of at least three entities who may be on that level. One of them was Fate."

Rosa blinked. "Oh. Right. That…actually makes sense. But Fate wasn't a god, was it?"

"The Fate guiding this world was not. But the original Fate appears to have been. This world's Fate was fashioned from her remains."

"Her remains?"

"Yes."

"That's…morbid."

"It is."

"And the other two? One of them is The Other, I'm guessing?"

"Yes. And the third was Time. Though you would know him better as The Gentleman."

Rosa stiffened. "…What?"

"…Frankly, I think it best if I wait with this discussion until tomorrow," Scarlett said. "There is much to cover, and I intend to share it with the others as well. If that is acceptable."

Rosa seemed to chew on it, then gave a slow nod. "…Alright. That'll also give me a night to—well, not think, probably—but at least process."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"Not only for that." Scarlett hesitated, then met her eyes. "For…everything."

Rosa stilled, and Scarlett caught a flicker of something in her gaze before she turned aside, brushing a hand over her face. When she looked back, she wore a smile — faint, maybe even a touch fragile. "It means a lot to me too, you know. Maybe even more than it does to you."

Scarlett regarded that smile. "…Is that so."

They let the quiet sit until Scarlett's gaze drifted down to the desk. Her eyes fell on the dove-grey linen-bound book resting at its corner.

"Rosa," she began, thoughtful. "There is something I may need your help with."

"Sure. Just say the word."

"I mentioned The Other. While I do not yet grasp what he is or what he seeks, I have met him more than once. In the latest meeting, he gave me this."

She lifted the book so Rosa could see.

"'The Kept Hours'."

Rosa studied it. "And it's special somehow?"

"That is what The Other claimed. Or more specifically, 'Aurelian', which is…I could not tell. Perhaps an aspect of him. Or a mask. Regardless, he claimed that the book will prove useful to me. But I cannot open it to confirm. I would like you to try in my stead."

"Alright. I don't mind giving it a look."

Scarlett conjured a plate of water, the liquid holding steady beneath the tome without wetting the fabric, and let it drift across the room.

Rosa caught the book lightly, her fingers brushing the linen. She turned it once, before sliding the cover open. Unlike when Scarlett tried, nothing resisted her.

Scarlett watched closely as Rosa's gaze fell to the first page. A flicker of surprise crossed her face before it tightened into a frown. She stayed quiet, an unusual hush hanging over her as she turned one page, then another.

Minutes slipped past.

"Rosa," Scarlett said at last.

The bard stilled, eyes lifting. For more than a moment, she said nothing, glancing back down before meeting Scarlett's gaze. "…Amy, I don't think you should read this."

Scarlett's brow furrowed. "Why not?"

"I just…don't think you should." Rosa's thumb worried at the page corner, as if buying herself time. "It's…probably best if you don't know what it says."

"Rosa, tell me plainly: is what that book contains dangerous?"

Her lips parted, ready with something, but the words seemed to falter. She bit down gingerly on her lip before answering. "…No. I don't think it is."

"But you still believe I should not know its contents."

"Yes."

"What reason do you have for that?"

"I can't say."

Scarlett's eyes narrowed. "…Is something preventing you from speaking?"

Was it some ward? A curse placed over the pages? Did she make a mistake in entrusting it to Rosa?

But Rosa shook her head sharply. "No, nothing like that. Honestly, I just—" she exhaled, "—I genuinely don't think you should know."

"Are you certain?"

She grimaced slightly. "No, but…could you please trust me on this?"

Scarlett examined her. Searched her face. "…Would you at least say whether it is likely to be useful to me?"

Rosa looked down at the book again, weighing it, then gave a small nod. "Probably, yeah."

"I received it as part of a wager," Scarlett said. "I lose if I admit it is useful."

That drew Rosa's eyes back up, brows lifting. "Oh." Her mouth twisted as she looked between Scarlett and the pages. "Maybe you shouldn't have taken that wager, then."

She went quiet, flipped ahead, read something near the end, tapped a finger against the paper, then shut the book with a soft thump. "Actually…no. I'm not sure."

Scarlett leaned forward. "There are advantages to the wager. I could simply choose to lie about its usefulness. If I judge him wrong, I am owed one demand. If he is right, all he gains is satisfaction and a tale to tell."

At that, Rosa gave a short huff of air, almost a laugh, but without the humour. "Well, that sounds pretty tidy, doesn't it? Not much to worry about then." Her gaze lingered on Scarlett. "But you don't seem entirely convinced."

"Outwardly, at least, it does appear in my favour," Scarlett said. Her eyes slid back to the book. "…You truly cannot speak of its contents? Not even a hint? The first word?"

Rosa looked at her for a long time. Longer than she herself even seemed comfortable with. Then she breathed out. "…Sorry."

Scarlett drew in her own breath, but waved a hand in dismissal. "No, it is fine. I trust you, Rosa. If that is how it must be, then so be it."

"Thanks."

The room dissolved once more into another silence, filled by the faint whisper of the candle's flame. Rosa rested the book on her knees.

"Well," she said lightly. "Even if this one's off-limits, that doesn't mean we can't talk about other things. Maybe you can feed me some more of your own morsels." She smiled, tired but warm again. "I'd like to hear more about your world. About you. I'm almost certain I'll literally keel over within the hour, but I'd be all ears until then. If you're willing."

Scarlett considered her across the flickering light. "Very well."

And so the night stretched on, Scarlett allowing herself to speak of her old self and old world while Rosa listened with a keenness unique to her, tossing in the occasional half-serious aside or questions when she felt like it. For a time, it felt almost easy.

At least, until Rosa actually did drift off mid-sentence.

Scarlett sat back, unsure whether to be more amused or offended that the woman had managed barely ten minutes.

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