"It would have been a wild story..."

It would have, even though the angel's sure the Royal Academy of Villarosa had far too many wards for a Duke's Daughter and a disaffected teaching assistant to actually tear it down.

"And it would've done something."  She shakes her head.  "Or at least tried to.  Maybe I still would've gotten enslaved in the end, but it wouldn't have been any worse."

But then she shakes her head again.  "Okay, it could've been worse.  At least Nimyel was honorable.  And she meant well.  Usually."

"If you had made Taisa's plot too large for the Academy to handle as an internal disciplinary matter...  it would probably have come to the King's court, but your father would still have had enough political latitude to defend you."

Gwennyth makes a face.  "Ugh.  He would've stashed me in the remotest manor.  And maybe the charges would still be suspended over my head just in case I ever went off to do anything..."

Would that have been even worse than being spell-bound to Nimyel?  Maybe.  But she's not going to admit it.

After a minute's silence, the angel continues.

"Your plots were well handled, for a while.  You did well with yourself along the way you took."

"I guess.  Until Nimyel popped them all.  As fragile as Prince Keremoth's plans -"  She shakes her head at the Villarosan expression.

The angel shakes her head.  "Less so than that, I think.  You weren't trying to break into a magical wellspring.  You were just maintaining the same social structure as every other noblegirl."

"They're all as fragile as Prince Keremoth!  Maybe first-life Mama was even more right than she knew - maybe all the nobles of Maranon would have all their schemes fall apart if their people just knew there was something else - just like Kosvin overthrew Earl Varin in a single week -"

And then she shakes her head.

"But they killed me instead.  And then maybe killed Mama."

She suddenly turns to the angel, wide-eyed.

"-- did they kill Mama too?  Can you show me what happened in Trinnshire, in Maranon, after I died there?"

It's not usual... but this whole conversation isn't usual...

"I will try."

Gwennyth throws her arms around the angel in a brief hug.

And then she coils back, surprised at herself.

The angel hugs her back, briefly.

And then she pokes her finger in the air, querying a spell to (if the Will of the Multiverse allows) open a window into Gwennyth's original world.

A window opens - briefly - to show a young woman standing in a castle hallway, a crown on her head and a few friends behind her.

She's facing down a man also wearing a crown, as well as a shirt with a sheaf of grain embroidered on it.

And then the window closes.

Gwennyth gasps.

"The Sheaf Rampant - that's our badge!  The emblem of Trinnshire!  What's that man doing wearing our badge and wearing a crown!?"

"Ah..."

The angel looks down at her magical scroll.

"... Apparently it's a few generations after your time.  Maranon is in the middle of a civil war right now.  Your mother survived; most of your siblings survived... the other nobles apparently held their peace after killing you, or maybe they were stopped, this isn't saying...  And then, a few generations later, a powerful mage named Barvid invaded, and your great-to-the-nth-nephew Teppin decided to claim the crown as Barvid's puppet.

"Your other relative, Eldred, is fighting him.  Along with the legitimate queen, who's taken the name Lila."

^"Oh."

She feels so small and obsolete. Time has passed her by - her failures and successes both - as well as all the things she and her mother fought for and against.

^{"How am I remembered?"}

She looks down at the scroll again.  When it doesn't say anything, she pokes another spell to send a message to the Communications Team:  "is there really any reason to not share this?"

...

"... I'm sorry.  Apparently they're not telling me anything about you.  All they're saying is that your grandfather Kosvin is remembered as a hero, both by the people and by Queen Lila."

Hopefully that will help her?