Morgana laughed again. "No, you want to be on good terms with Niabheara," she said. "Fortunately, she's easy to get to know. The countess is far less accessible. I don't think I quite know her yet."

Goneril's brow furrowed. "Do you mean she's insane or something?" she asked. "She has two personalities? One of those? I've read about things like that."

"No, nothing like that. It's only a game." She paused, looking vaguely concerned. "I don't know if 'game' is quite the word anymore. It's a way of coping."

"Like make-believe?" Goneril asked. "Play-acting? She's pretending to be another person who can do the things she can't?"

Morgana nodded in agreement. "Something like that. It started off in play, though, when she was little. Now she almost treats it as if it's real. Sometimes it seems real, e'en to me, and I'm used to it."

"But you're saying that that's not...she's not always like that?" Goneril asked. "And I need to talk to her when she isn't being that way? How do I do that?"

Morgana looked honestly shocked. "You mean you didn't know she . . . oh, that girl." She slapped her palm against her lap and rolled her eyes upward. "I'll not apologize for her. But you'll probably do better now that all this rusting wedding business is out of the way. With any luck she's packed the countess away in her box."

"Well, I wouldn't expect you to apologize for her," Goneril assured Meg. "You're saying that she'll be better now? I...I suppose I can understand stress over a big event."

Morgana gave a dry chuckle. "I won't go as far to say she'll be better, but she won't try to countess you to death, either. Meanwhile I'll get my teeth in her for you."

Goneril smiled sheepishly. "Tha-- err, good neighbor," she said. "I was originally just going to give it up as a lost cause, but now that I'm staying longer, I'd like to try again."