Sabrina was deeply asleep when Ford entered her room, exhausted from the rush of terror Vertorix had provoked. Her shoes were still on, he noted with a fond sadness, and her face was pressed into the pillow as if she could block out her fears with it. Careful not to wake her, he sat beside her on the mattress and gently stroked her soft blonde hair.
"She is pretty, this person you've created," he murmured. The fact that Kesta could maintain this image despite her limited crystal sensitivity was proof enough of how strong the delusion was, he knew. She must be drawing on their bond somehow, using his own knowledge and ability to keep the disguise in place. "And strong and courageous. I see why she beguiles you. But all these things are in you—the true self you are struggling against." He let out a long sigh. "I break my promise to you only for your welfare, my Kesta. When I have erased this Sabrina from your mind, you will be at ease again. And we will begin our new life."
With a deep breath, he slipped into her sleeping mind, sinking deeply inside, suppressing her natural urge to awaken at the intrusion.
——————————
Sabrina looked around the suite of rooms she'd been assigned in Lthos' capitol, a vast metroplex that somehow managed not to be claustrophobic. She couldn't help wondering if there was some ulterior motive for assigning her to this mission, if Mara and Rassir had something cooking back home and wanted her out of the way. In this new Praxatillus, she was no longer a vital force, but merely a useful tool, she thought in her darker moments. Still, it was true that her welcome here had justified Mara's observation that she had many admirers on Lthos, and she was glad to have the chance to visit. Haaron and Ellina had lived here a good part of their married life, fulfilling an assignment she had given them.
But she was out of practice, a century out of touch, and her diplomatic skills had only ever been used on Praxatillus, mostly in its defense. There was nothing desperate here, nothing that needed saving. It was simply a friendly courtesy call for a planetary festival that Mara, heavily pregnant, could not attend. Still, maybe it was a mercy they'd given her something simple to ease back into things. She had to do something with her life, right? The diplomatic service was a logical choice. Yet, as much as she felt hemmed in on Praxatillus, homesickness was already setting in. The feeling of freedom she'd anticipated had not come.
She glanced at the timepiece on the wall, took a moment to remember Lthosyenne time units, and realized that it was time she got dressed for the first of many appearances. She had a whole new wardrobe for this assignment, and it made her feel like she was playing dress-up. That was a feeling she associated with the Regency, so it didn't bolster her spirits.
The door chime startled her, and she got to her feet before calling, "Come in."
Ford breezed in, already in full princely costume, grinning madly at her. "Look at you! You're going to be late. Is that any way for the Queen's representative to act? Come on, hurry! You'll make them think I've been a bad influence on you. And even though it's true, there's no need to advertise it!"
Her shocked gaping turned into a burst of laughter. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be—"
"I'm supposed to be dancing attendance on a series of boring diplomats at home like a good little princeling, yes, I know. Then I thought, 'Poor little Sabrina, she must be bored out of her mind on Lthos, no trouble to get into for parsecs.' So I thought we might as well be bored together. Come on, get dressed! And don't clash with me, or they won't let us sit together!"
She grinned back at him. "I left my polka dots at home."
"Where someone promptly burned them, I hope. Don't just stand there, Sabrina!"
"Yes, your highness." She curtsied purely for the amusement of his expression, and he didn't disappoint. Then she turned and managed a creditable flounce on her way out of the room, grinning all the way.
Despite the fact that he was almost certainly going to cause trouble either here or at home with this impromptu appearance, she was glad to see him. Over her shoulder, she called, "So help me, Ford, if you screw up my first diplomatic assignment in a hundred years, I'll...well, I'll think of something!"
From the other room, she could hear him laugh.
——————————
Ford shook his head, trying to shake free of the memory. These false ones were unexpectedly compelling—it was no wonder Kesta clung so fiercely to them. But Malvarak was right: it was kinder to free her from this fantasy in the long run. He plunged back in, astonished at the quantity and variety of the memories, and alarmed to realize that they outnumbered her memories as Kestabriani significantly. That couldn't be right, he knew. He found no signs of external tampering. There were only the two personalities, Kesta's tinged with Pharon resonance. The Sabrina personality was nearly free of it, and did not respond to his manipulation.
He sat back with a frown. Could...could she be right? Who was she really? And if she was right, then...who was he really?
——————————
"Left, right, hop, then turn—ow!"
"Baby. I haven't seriously bruised you since you made me take my shoes off," Sabrina retorted. "And you volunteered to teach me this dance, so stop whining."
"I was under the delusion that you were considerably more graceful—ow! Hey! That was on purpose!"
"Yes it was. How many sisters do you have? You'd think one of them would have taught you not to be so insulting by now."
"My sisters all learned this dance as children. And they had dancing teachers."
"And dear sweet you decided to remedy my lamentable ignorance. So stop ruining your good deed with all this moaning and groaning."
"No good deed goes unpunished," Ford sighed dramatically.
Sabrina smiled dazzlingly at him until he grinned back. "I'm on to you, you know," she whispered in his ear, leaning closer.
"What?"
"Your big plan."
"I have a big plan?"
"Yes. You're trying to prevent my falling for your irresistible charms by being as big a pain in the ass as possible at every opportunity."
Ford stared at her for a moment before bursting into helpless laughter. Sabrina kept a straight face, nodding. "Yes. I have it on excellent authority. I understand that it must be desperately boring to have women keep falling insanely in love with you, but relax. Something in my human genetics is evidently protecting me from that hideous fate."
Ford sputtered, trying unsuccessfully to stop laughing long enough to retort. Sabrina smiled sweetly at him. "Marie says she's going to use the same technique when she gets old enough to have suitors."
That did it. Ford had to let go of her and fumble blindly for a chair as he howled with mirth. Sabrina folded her arms and grinned at him, mentally chalking up a point for herself and suppressing the thought of how unfairly good-looking he was, even red-faced with partial asphyxiation and making unrefined guffawing noises. But then, she had always been inclined to find men physically attractive once she'd begun to like their company, whether that was her initial impression or not. And there was no denying that she enjoyed Ford's company immensely.
"I hope you're happy. It's too late to sign up for lessons now. I'm going to have to sit out the national dance at Bathir, and it's all your fault. It'll probably be taken for an insult, and there'll be a big flap, and—"
Ford sprang out of his chair with alarming speed, grabbed her around the waist, and hoisted her into the air. She couldn't help the shriek of alarm and surprise that echoed off the walls of the Little Ballroom. He grinned at her as he set her down again. "It won't matter. I won't be able to hear that song without laughing myself into a coma now, and that's all your fault. You and I will just have to be tied up in an important conversation when they play it."
"I'd like to see you get away with that!"
"The odds are against you. Come on, one more try." He took her hands again and pulled her closer. When they'd established a semblance of a rhythm, he leaned into her and whispered, "So, what's your secret for keeping all those hordes of men from falling insanely in love with you?"
Sabrina shivered involuntarily. Suddenly she didn't feel like teasing anymore. "I marry them off to my friends," she replied, and was startled and depressed to realize it was close to the truth.
"Mm," Ford responded, easing her through a series of twirls. When they were face-to-face again, he said, "So I'd better be careful in any case, hadn't I?"
She managed a smile, and hoped he didn't notice how her grip tightened.
——————————
He didn't know how long he sat there, troubled and uncertain, when Sabrina blinked, waking slowly.
"Did Kesta ever love the Emperor?" he asked her.
Her face scrunched adorably as she tried to process the question. "I don't know," she said softly.
He looked solemnly at her for a moment more, then asked, "Does Sabrina love Ford?"
She returned his gaze, then stretched out a hand to him. "You are my dearest friend," she said.
And he found, to his surprise, that his questions were answered.