â€œIâ€™m not afraid of it,â€ Liliane muttered.  â€œItâ€™s just icky.â€  She scowled, grabbing a pen to fill out the forms.  â€œAnd who said I would forget  her- them, I mean.  Sheâ€™s my mother!â€  She set herself to the task of filling out the forms without further ado, staring so intently at the papers that she might have burned a hole through them.<br/><br/>Outside, Alais pushed herself to her feet, feeling sore muscles pull and drying blood crackle.  Sheâ€™d need to get new clothing later, but that could wait.  Now she checked her weapons, going over each dagger, cleaning it, settling it firmly in its hilt, within reach, taking special care with the hidden blades she wore in sleeve and boot.  She took just as long to make sure her sword was clean, wiping off the sticky handle, and replacing it carefully.  Then she braided her hair again, loosely, so shorter strands still framed her face.  The braid proper didnâ€™t begin until it hit her shoulders, done only to make it easier to manage.  That done, she leaned against the wall, waiting to see if Liliane would need her again, or the chance to talk briefly with her.