As the rangers melt away to Arden, Robin is nowhere to be found.

Robin takes advantage of the swirling crowds to return to the damn Castle on her own.  Once there, she stops briefly at her own room, tearing through boxes until she finds the feathers, the small bones, the little stones, the leather ties that she *knows* will be there.
            These she gathers up and she heads for the roof.  For a special hiding place that she used before when she was stuck in this place.  High up and tucked behind a gable, for anyone else it would be a scramble.  For Julian's daughter, it's just a few short jumps and an easy sllliiiidde.  And there - finally - privacy!
            For long moments, the girl merely hangs her head into hands and sobs for the men she will never see again, the time that was lost...
            Once she has cried herself out, Robin sniffles indelicately and wipes her nose and eyes with her sleeve.  It's a cost *any* of them would be willing to pay and many have before this.  None of them lived a life they didn't choose or died a death they regretted.  And all of them are heroes.
            Leaning back against the stones of the Castle, Robin lifts her eyes to the twilight and purses her lips.  The notes that lift from her begin sad -- mournful trills of sorrow.  Then build to defiance -- that which will always fight to live, to be free.  After long moments, Robin's song lifts into joyful flight, exultant jubilation, the triumph of the heart over the world, guiding her friends to the stars.
            A final crescendo of music lifts from Robin's lips, to disappear upward in a skirling, trilling aria of transcendence.
            Afterward, the Ranger sits in silence for some moments before bringing herself back to this world.  With a sigh she starts digging the feathers, stones, bones and leather out of her pockets.
            Robin's lips are pursed, her wind up, and reaching for power before she thinks about *what* she's doing.  The first few notes of her conjuration fall away from her as her eyes widen.
           Deep Green!  What was she thinking?  She can't wear a glamour to the masquerade!  Fiona will be there.  And worse yet, Bleys!  'Robin, you idiot!' the girl mentally upbraids herself, 'You don't show your hand that way!'
            Okay, back to the root.  Another thought occurs to the Ranger, one that appeals to her on several levels.  But then inevitably, 'No wait.  Dad and the Regent will be there.  Oook.  Coming as a ghost would probably fuck with them real bad.  Dung...  Scotch bright idea number two.'
            Robin shifts fretfully around on her roof-top perch.  She doesn't *want* to come as a bird or something -- *everyone's* going to be a bird or something.  She can't help the rueful chuckle that shakes her frame.  This is what Aisling and Folly were trying to spare her.  But she was too... crowded in to accept their help at the time.  So now she's stuck flailing on a roof-top.  Typical.
            Ranger war-paint?  Hmmm, maybe not the message she wants to send.
            Crap!  What is she going to wear????  The Ranger stares forlornly through the dark bulk of Kolvir toward her home.
            When her answer rises behind her over the roofs and battlements of Castle Amber bathing everything in silver.  Robin turns and looks at the great orb rising slowly into the night sky.
            A slow smile lines her lips.  Ah, yes.  In her earlier days, she is huntress too, isn't she?  And Daeon *won't* be at the masquerade.  Robin closes her eyes and raises her face briefly letting the delicate trickling moonlight play over her features.  That'll do.  That'll do.
            A few moments more and Robin is scrambling off the roof tops, heading for her quarters, her thoughts a whirl.