A/N the poetry in this chapter is all from TS Eliot :) enjoy

As the down pour begins, I duck inside, shaking the droplets of water from my paws. Silence fills the house with an eerie quality, like the peace after a funeral; dark and not quite welcome. And then the peace shatters. Electra comes dashing into the parlor where I wait, little Quaxo hot on her heels. The noise is suddenly deafening; both of them are shouting, clinging to my arms. Quaxo rushes to the window, pointing wildly.

Electra finally catches her breath, gasping, "Jemima! I left her alone for a moment: she's gone!"

The words are barely out of her mouth before the door slams behind me. Rain pelts my fur, while distant thunder echoes across the moors. I spin in circles, serching the black horizon. Then I remember. Alonzo's home lies to the east, not five miles away...I curse, begining to run, hellbent on reaching her before the chill does.

The rocks beneath my paws scrape and cut at my skin, but it barely registers. I don't care about the bloody pawprints in my wake, or the screech of the wind in my ears at all. A hill rises in front of me and at the very crest I see her; burgundy stripes turned dark with water, black and white fur slick and dripping. She stumbles blindly even after I call her name again and again. I race to her side, snatching her paws in mine and trying to catch her eyes. The sienna irises are glazed, unseeing, as Jemima falls against my chest, sobbing uncontrollably. She shakes from the cold. I can sense her knees giving way; I pull her to my chest, turning on my heel as lightning brightens the path back to her manor.

"Everlasting cat, you found her!" Quaxo pulls me through the doorway, leading me to his sister's room. Gently, I lay her on the bed, brusing the scarlet headfur away from the sweet face. Quaxo retreats to find Electra. The click of the door causes her to stir. I start to draw away, but she grabs my paw.

"I'm so sorry." Jem's voice is hoarse, just above a whisper, but her claws hold tight to my fur. I kneel next to her, cradling her paw in mine.

"I should be the one apologizing...I should have protected you."

A water-logged laugh escapes her.

"'For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith, but the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.' I thought Alonzo would be waiting for me. I thought he'd marry me. But instead he told me he had to leave, never see me again. I'm sorry for not listening when you told me he'd break my heart. My only defense is that I was blinded by affection."

I smile for a moment, pressing my lips to her palm. "It was his loss. And your heart will mend."

"I'm not so certain of that..."

"There are so many things you aren't certain of- and why should you be? You're young; I remember how everything felt like the end of the world. I know what it's like to be passionately in love, and disregard everything else for that person."

The young queen sighed, releasing her grip.

"What is her name?"

I'm taken aback.

"I will only say this; 'I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope, for hope would be hope for the wrong thing.' I cannot hope she loves me... but I shall wait for her heart to mend."

Jemima opens her eyes at last, looking at me with calm severity.

"I used to think about the tom I would love. And you never came to my mind... I though passion to be a whirlwind of music; loud and dizzying and wonderful. But- 'this love is silent.' There is no wild crescendo... still, the peace and security of silence must countfor something."

I sigh, knowing this is the most I shall recieve. I rise, my face cold and distant in an attempt to hide my pain.

"I shall leave you, then. Sweet dreams...Jem."

"Wait- promise you'll return when I'm well again? Please, Munk? To mend a broken heart?"

"Anything...for you, Jem."