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Dead of night meant little in the western reaches of Nohr. The sun never shone on the Northern Fortress, just as it never shone upon the ice flats, and just as Felicia had been told it never shone in the abyss of Castle Krakenburg. Night was only a polite agreement for cutpurses and travelers to take a rest at the same time, if at all.
More likely, the people oriented themselves by when the local lord decided lanterns ought to be lit, if they didn't play pretend at daytime should they ever need to travel further east.
This particular caravan abided by the times set for Krakenburg, as that was where Felicia and Flora were to be stationed. After all, the lady of the Northern Fortress had vanished.
Into the depths below, that only legends spoke of.
Felicia slept as her work demanded, and woke when it did the same. Much as she messed up, at least waking up she was good at, with a sense of time drilled into her by two dead men. Thus, she knew that it was not yet time for work when a slight rustling tugged at her hearing.
"Felicia," came a whisper, "we're free to go."
"...Flora?" Felicia mumbled in reply. Against only a sliver of moonlight sneaking its way past the night sky's dark clouds, Felicia made out the shape of her twin sister, dressed neither in night gown nor uniform.
Awareness came to Felicia like the lightning over the canyon where Lady Corrin had gone.
Why was the campfire out? Why was Flora dressed in someone else's clothes? Had something happened to the caravan? To their guard?
"Shh."
Before Felicia could voice any of her budding distress, Flora pressed a finger to Felicia's mouth. "Felicia, I need you to listen to me. I'm leaving, and you can come with me."
With Flora no longer shushing her, Felicia croaked out, "But why? Where to?"
"Back"
"...Back where?"
Flora sighed. She had that flat expression on her face that Felicia knew well—Flora was mad at Felicia for some reason she didn't get, yet again.
"Where else? This is the best chance we'll ever get. They left last watch to me." That last part was some sort of joke which only Flora had context to.
"B-because they trust you!"
That was a guess on Felicia's part, but it made sense. Flora was attentive, unlike her. So of course Flora would be great at keeping watch for bandits in the night, too.
As Felicia proved herself not about to scream at how suspicious Flora was being, Flora turned her attention to the satchel slung around her shoulder. She pulled out and inspected several waxed packets Felicia knew to be their supply of dried meat.
"You think?" Flora snarled, "Felicia, dear sister. We do not have guards for our protection."
As Felicia did not comprehend what else guards might be for, Flora put the packets away and continued "They're here to make sure we don't run. This is it, Felicia. If we go down to Krakenburg, neither of us will ever see the sky again."
And so? Felicia thought, since she'd never seen a proper blue sky before anyways. "And so?"
"You... you'd waste your chance to go home?"
It clicked, then, what Flora wanted, and why she'd seemed so disappointed at Felicia's own lack of enthusiasm.
Flora wanted to leave. Leave behind the Fortress, and Krakenburg, and Nohr. Go back to the ice tribe. Felicia thought of home, too, sometimes. It's not like she couldn't understand entirely, yet the notion simply had not occured.
"I'm not... wasting a chance. It's just..."
"Just what, sister?"
"Somebody has to be there in case Lady Corrin comes back, right? What with Gunther, and..."
In the dark of night, Flora's face was a void. She turned her head so her eyes were cast in darkness, impossibly flatter than before.
"Lady Corrin is dead."
Felicia drew a sharp breath. "You don't know that."
"Nobody survives the Bottomless Canyon, Felicia."
"Well now, that's not true! Some have come back."
"Those are just tales, aren't they? And in those tales, people never come back right, either. You... you shouldn't get your hopes up."
"...A true servant should have faith in their master."
"Then I'm simply not a true servant. Not like you."
Flora made for the wagon some distance from their corner of leftover blankets. She examined the contents with an appraiser's eye, only pocketing what she might sorely need. Without so many words, a dismissal.
"This is about Jakob, isn't it!" Felicia raised her voice. But no one stirred. The two guards slept deeply. Too deeply.
"No! It's not!"
"Yes, it is! You didn't talk about any of this running away stuff until he left!"
At that, Flora had to leave behind her veneer of busywork. She stomped back over to Felicia until the two were face to face, Flora in her travel wear and Felicia in a sleeping gown not suited whatsoever for camping outside.
"And look where following Lady Corrin got him! He was just the final straw in the coffin!"
Flora shouted, right and proper. Like Felicia had never heard. Because Flora preferred to keep all her complaints tucked away in a bottle under the rug, so Felicia had to go pulling at every frayed thread just to figure out what went on inside Flora's head this time and why it was Felicia's fault.
"So you would've left... even had Lady Corrin returned?"
"Yes. Yes, I would have, one day."
Felicia couldn't understand. Yes, Felicia was, by all means, a horrible servant. She knew this, just as she knew to keep an extra towel in her apron's pockets when carrying tea, just as she figured out which errand runner would buy replacement plates with the least fuss, and how to make sure it looked the least bad on the fort's budget.
But, no matter how much Felicia was a total failure, Lady Corrin never cared. Lady Corrin was always kind, always gracious, Lady Corrin always smiled when Felicia came her way... And besides, everyone back home expected Felicia to be a warrior. To lead. To... to liberate their people from Nohr! Did they need such a thing? Was it truly that bad? How could it be, when Lady Corrin was such a kind princess?
Wasn't it better to just accept their lot and make the most of it? Why risk agony and death for... for something as nebulous as freedom? Her work gave her direction. Her work gave her purpose. Wasn't it enough to satisfy herself with every laugh Corrin gifted her?
But for Flora, things were different. Flora was great at her job. Any job she put her mind to, really. Yet mind was the keyword, as Flora felt through every wrung piece of laundry and every scrubbed dish that being a servant was worse than simply that.
Flora was a prisoner.
Lovesick, that's what they'd all been. But Flora had been keen enough to spot when Gunther dismantled his old whip. She'd figured out to make the best meals while rationing before Jakob had picked up the slack. And she cleaned, wiped, picked up, dusted, after Felicia's every itty-bitty mistake, wondering every single blasted day if this was it.
Would their efforts keep them alive? Would being a good maid mean they're more than playing cards in the king's game against their father?
She hadn't seen him in years. When Flora realized she'd started to forget his face, and the sound of his voice... She'd learned to cry quietly, privately, only at night in her bunk bed.
Jakob had been the last straw, yes. What else was a trapped girl to do, instead of succumbing to her despair? She could entertain herself with lovesick fantasies. It came in the knowing. In having known Jakob when he was also young and new and terrible at his job. When he'd also been scared that one wrong move would land him on the streets or at the gallows. They'd all been children, with only Gunther to watch them. In seeing him grow so much right alongside her and bloom in this world Flora loathed so deeply.
Maybe this life could be enough for her, too. Maybe growing up and growing old in this place was okay, if someone else could flourish here. Maybe Flora was the wrong one, to hate it so much.
Nohr was sick. They had been children, hostages, threatened with death at every misstep. All they could do was play at family. What else was she to do?
But she could go home, now. She could go back.
"Sister..." Felicia whispered, and cupped Flora's cheek. "Are you crying?"
Flora dropped to her knees. "Please come with me, Felicia. Please."
Her stupid, useless, idiotic sister. Her wonderful, kind, passionate sister. Flora's one and only twin.
"I can't," Felicia said.
Flora couldn't help but grin. "Somebody has to wait for Lady Corrin."
In a moment, Felicia wiped Flora's tears with her ratty blanket. Far too little to keep a proper Nohrian warm, but just enough for someone with frozen blood.
"...You should go," Felicia said.
"Okay." Flora wiped the last tear from her cheek. It turned into a small crystal of ice, which she flicked to the ground. She bid the sight of it, of the hopes to see snow she hadn't made herself, to give her strength.
Felicia rose with her, and hugged her tight.
Her stubborn, inscrutable, superior sister. Her loving, protective, steadfast sister. Felicia's one and only twin.
As Flora held her tighter and stroked her hair, Felicia had a thought. She was clumsy, not stupid.
For the fire to go out, the guards had to have been sleeping for quite a while. And, as Flora said, they were here to prevent this exact scenario. So why would they include Flora in their watch schedule? Why wouldn't they wake up, even when Felicia had raised her voice?
She spotted the man over Flora's shoulder. In the din of night, he'd been stripped to his underclothes (stripped of the clothes Flora was wearing), disarmed (with the sword comfortably at Flora's hip), and knocked unconscious.
"Remember," Flora said, "that when you're done waiting, I'll welcome you home with open arms."
Then, Felicia's world went black.
Felicia awoke with a splitting headache the next morning. As did the guards.
And Flora was gone, along with a significant chunk of their travel rations and funds.
Of course, Felicia hadn't seen her leave. She'd been out cold the whole night, as the bump on the back of her head could attest! No, her sister hadn't bid goodbye.
She'd just left, without a word, without a trace, like the spring melt seeping into the ground.