The sound of running water.

William sat down on the bed, looked out at the sparsely decorated room. Kaama was putting away clothes in the dresser.

" It's not his room, you know," Kaama said. " Lyeha's in that one, I think."

William leaned forward.

" Oh, why is that?"

" He hasn't slept in there since he was fifteen."

There was a practiced evenness to his voice, like he was withholding from saying what he actually wanted to.

" So whose is it?"

" ... We're not allowed to speak his name in the palace anymore. Only Lyena, since he-"

" - Can do as he wants, since he's Lyena?" William finished. " Earlier he said to me that just because he can do something, it doesn't mean he should."

A drawn out moment of silence, punctuated only by the sound of folded clothes rustling.

" ... How old are you, Wille?"

William tipped his head.

" ... Has he called me by that name in front of you yet?"

A pause.

" ... Lyeha was first to mention you," Kaama admitted.

" That makes sense. She's fond of me," William said. " To answer your question, I'm twenty-two."

" ... You've blonde hair," Kaama observed. " ... Do you dye it?"

" Mm? No, not at all. I just came out this way."

" ... I see."

William laid down across the bed.

" ... Are you jealous of me, Kaama?" he asked.

Ear flick.

" Not at all. I think highly of the esteemed Lyena, but... I cannot stand this room. He is terrible at getting over things. For whatever reason, he clings to the past and lets it define him. ... I refuse to be that way."

" So Nova's stuck in the past..."