Cecily was quick to escort Alma to the bath, having taken all the common remedies to quicken the healing process and pouring them in the steaming water.

She waited for Alma before stepping in herself, washing her body clean and especially the metal arm where she'd touched the most of the poisonous plant.

When she stepped out, she was relieved to be able to step into what used to be her room and see that her dad had kept all of her old clothing. The room had actually been preserved. From the bed that was never made to the pencil that sat at her desk where she used to try to learn how to read and write. Her dad used to try his hardest to teach her. Now, the hunter wished she hadn't gotten out of all those lessons he'd tried to teach her.

Not only was it was preserved, it was clean. There wasn't a spec of dust on the furniture or any on the little knick knacks and oddities she used to find in the forest when she was bored of hunting.

Digging through her closet, Cecily pulled out a simple blue tank top before going to her dresser and digging out a long pair of black pants. Next, she grabbed a jacket hanging from the back of her door and rested it on her arm. The last thing she did was pick at her collection of old hunting knives and a single sword from when she used to have to hunt for food. Her mother had let her keep those because even the crazy old lady understood the need for money and food.

Maybe it was because she knew her daughter would defend her and that she would never hurt her on purpose.

Well, look at where that got the bitch.

Shaking off the thought, the hunter left the nostalgic room and headed to the living room.

"How do you like your room?" Her dad asked with bright eyes. "I did a pretty good job and keeping it clean, right? I think I did good."

Absentmindedly, she nodded, moving into the kitchen to check the food supply.

"Has anyone stopped by since before we got here?" She asked.

"Hmm, two people. Formally dressed. Probably hunting you."

"What did you say?"

"I told the truth, that after you were taken you'd never come back. But, you know in a little bit of a darker way, like you told me all that time ago. Remember when you told me to act like I hated you? So no one would think I was at least a little bit happy that my daughter murdered my wife. You were so serious then too."

"Good. I'll hunt you some more meat before I leave. When's the last time you ate something besides what you grow."

"A few days ago, the neighbor brought me something really fancy that I can't pronounce and it had meat in..." He looked up at her from the chair. His black eyes matched only in depth by his daughter were droopy like he'd lost twenty years because of a single sentence mumbled by his daughter. "You're leaving."

"Only for a few days. I need you to take care of the others." More specifically, she needed them to take care of them. All those years without seeing her father and she was always worried. Of course she had other things she was wanted to talk about but there were things she absolutely had to get done first.

"Wait, no." He stood a little too quickly and nearly toppled out of his crutches. If it wasn't for his hunter's trained reflexes, he would've hit the ground. "You've gotten stronger. When I wasn't even looking, my daughter went and grew up."

"I was already grown up. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have been able to protect my father."

His hands let go of the crutches and wrapped around Cecily's torso. She easily supported his dwindling weight. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you had to go through all that. It's my fault that I couldn't get rid of her."

Cecily hugged him back, a little awkward but a hug. "No, it was my fault. There...was something I never told you. All those years ago, a few days before the hospital incident," because she wouldn't even mention her arm to her father in fear that he would break down in tears, "she told me that if I didn't defend her, that she would kill you."

He pushed away a little, his muscled arms on her shoulders and one good leg on the floor the few things keeping him standing.

When the hunter looked in his eyes, all she saw was confusion and worry.

"What?" His voice cracked.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, pulling him into a hug. "I know. I know I shouldn't tell you something like this."

But, she also knew that he would want to know. That he was the type of person who regret his daughter having to keep secrets from him more than anything.

Cecily continued. "But when she said she would kill you I wanted- I wanted to kill her right there but I knew I couldn't cause you'd blame yourself. I was waiting until I turned eighteen. Until we could run away to somewhere she'd never find us. Somewhere where we'd both be safe. But I promise you, right now, that no matter what happens, I will always find my way home. Alright? So I need you to promise me you'll count on my friends to keep you safe and that you won't leave until the day I come back."

He buried his head in her neck. "You really have grown up. You said friends."

She pushed him away, setting him back down in the chair. "Alright, moments up. Where are my- the others?"

He smiled goofily, pointing a thumb in the direction of the back door. "Still picking. Can you make sure they don't pick anything that isn't ready?"

She nodded, moving through the back door.

Her eyes first went to Orion who was lazily laying in the snow, staring up at the sky. The others were actually being decently helpful

"I thought you were picking food?" Cecily asked, drawing all their eyes.

"I was," the assassin answered. "I got bored."

She nodded, moving to stand above him.

With the frigid air brushing her skin, she was quick to pull on her jacket.

"I need you all to do me a favor. A few, actually."

That stopped them in their tracks.

"I'm going away for a few days. I need you to take care of my dad and yourselves."

"Where?" Zephyr asked.

"To get a real safe house. Somewhere where no one will be able to touch us."

"Is there really a place like that?"

"I can make one. But I'll be gone for a few days. Orion. Rei. Can I trust you to keep everyone safe?"

Alma huffed out, walking up to Cecily in her new outfit stolen from the hunters outfit. I was a little bigger than the girl and a little baggy.

"You know, I can fight too."

"I know. I taught you."

"Are you actually gonna come back alive?" She raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Yes. I had to tell my dad the same thing."

The little saint hugged her.

People were becoming awfully touchy with her.

"I swear on Sheek-Ala," Alma said, holding the hunter at arms length, "I'll hunt you down and beat your butt. Got it?"

"Yes, yes. I understand." She glanced around the saint, looking at the others. "My dad knows where I hid all my weapons. Catch something big so you actually have meat. You'll have to cook it, but he can tell you how. If anyone shows up at the door, hide in the woods behind the house." She took a breath. "Zephyr, walk me out. I need to talk to you about something."

The former prince dropped the basket that was slowly filling with vegetables and fruits, following the hunter around the side of the house instead of through.

She stopped him halfway, right when they were out of sight of everyone.

"If worst comes to worst," Cecily started, pulling up the hood of her jacket so the neighbors wouldn't spot her bright red hair, "and I'm not back in seven days, I need you to run. Don't worry about my dad, he knows how to hide a crime scene." She stopped Zeph's question. "My grandfather taught him, it's a long story. But, seriously, hide in the woods for another week. I'll be able to find you. If I don't, assume the worst. Thing's are going to be up to you.

"In my room, I left a bag below my bed. If I don't make it back, there are smoke bombs filled with poison ivy. Just drop a fire in them. Do. Not. Breath. It. In. And...I think that's all. I'll see you in a few days."

The hunter turned, leaving the future king wondering how the girl had gone from terrifying criminal to doting mother within the short month and a half he'd known her.

"Wait a minute," he said, grabbing her wrist. "Are you sure about this?"

"Positive. We can't plan anything when we're half worrying about when someone's going to attack us."

He was clearly worried. Cecily could nearly smell it on him.

"Promise you'll be careful."

Cecily rolled her eyes.

"Fine."