As is her way, Serenity once again sneaks to Earth. This time, she gave a little bit of an advanced warning, and had the forethought of wearing a hooded cloak. Stealth!
And she does wait in the garden for someone to arrive, but thirty whole seconds pass before the lure of Beyond the Garden calls to her. There are flowers here, which she adores, but there are animals at the stables, which she also loves. And she has a cloak!
Hiding her glow as much as possible, she nearly floats over the path, footsteps quiet with her impossibly soft shoes. Her home shimmers bright above her, full and beautiful, and she keeps to the shadows as much as she can. It's much easier to hide in them.
The stables are empty this time of night, the workers for it asleep...somewhere. But the horses are still here! She lightly scratches Endymion's horse on the nose, whispering her thanks for taking such good care of his rider.
After she's greeted all the horses, thanking them each in turn for protecting their riders, she looks around for the stable cats. Has the pregnant one given birth yet? Has the cranky old tom scratched everyone again? And then, of course, is her favorite. A black male, overly cuddly and a sweetheart, and he reminds her of Luna sometimes.
There are no kittens yet. The tom hisses.
But the other?
Now, though, she's sitting on the ground beside the stable, paying no mind to the dirt staining her dress. Her hood is down, and she's clutching something small, black, and unmoving in her arms. And she is sobbing.
She's learned about it. Read about it. Knew that she would be sad if she ever saw it.
But her favorite stable cat, the one with black fur and reminded her of Luna, is her first experience with death.
And in this case, experiencing hurts so much more than knowing.
Stealth is a perfect plan, isn't it? It lets her sneak around without anyone at her elbow insisting she behave, or insisting she not stand there, or giving her resigned looks at being here again and at having to cope again with aggrieved Senshi coming down to fetch her.
Stealth lets her ghost past the sleeping stableboy there in case of trouble. Most intruders would startle horses, irritate cats. Serenity does neither; the creatures there know her, accept her (except the old tom, who accepts no-one and nothing), avoid biting her (so long as she avoids the ones that bite anyway).
All of these things will be noted. All of these things will be addressed. No-one, not even a princess, should be able to drift into the stable completely unnoticed. It's an impossible goal, given some of the people about the palace and their collective taste for mischief. But it's a goal nonetheless.
But that will wait. The one still about at this hour, the one awake enough to notice the shift of energy that accompanied Serenity's arrival, the one who would be arranging to change security measures... that one has more important things to be doing, right now.
Kunzite settles to one knee beside the cloaked and weeping princess. (He'd know her by a fingertip, let alone a hand; Earth people don't look like that.) Neither his proximity nor the paleness of his uniform are enough to catch her attention. He doesn't try speaking; what would he say? Anything he could say out loud would either be pointless, irrelevant, or sound like reproof for her behavior. He half raised a princeling; he knows just how much damage the technically correct words can do, at the wrong time.
So he doesn't say a word. Instead, he does one of the hardest things for him to do.
He reaches out a hand and rests it gently on her shoulder.
The cat in her arms is barely beginning to cool. No flies buzz around it, yet, and if she were to look, there'd be no wound. Poison, perhaps? Something intended for the mice the cats can't catch? Or a cruel human?
She's not thinking about any of this, of course, or that she may have gotten the poor stable boy in trouble with her stealthy sneakiness. (Which wouldn't likely have worked had the stableboy been actually awake, of course.)
When she feels the hand on her shoulder, she starts and turns to see Kunzite. She forgets to be intimidated by him, doesn't think about the looks she may receive later, or her own aggrieved guardians when they come for her.
Instead, her face crumbles completely, and she forgets decorum as she leans over to cry in his shoulder.
"I was p-playing with him last week!"
And she doesn't know how or why something like this could happen in so short a span of time, especially when there'd been no signs.
Death, after all, is not yet common for her.
Poison is always a possibility. So is sickness. So is just 'something happened.' Cats react to pain and discomfort by hiding it, react to disability by hiding themselves away; and sometimes a single day's illness can start a chain of events hidden inside all that fur, ending inexorably in that last sleep, for reasons no-one on Earth in that time has words to explain in detail. Cats die. It's something that happens.
The people of the Moon live a thousand years. How long do their cats live? A hundred years? Three hundred? A thousand? More? And Serenity is young, and sheltered. It's not something that happens to her, not yet. Not till now.
This is not something that's done, either. But if someone happens across it, well. Damage can be controlled, if need be. And the most likely people to be skulking around the stable at this hour aren't people who would spread rumors about her. So Serenity goes from that first touch, to having an arm about her shoulders, supporting and cradling. A hand stroking the hair at the back of her head, comforting her like a child. A steady frame to lean against, the reminder that other people do breathe.
It's not remotely the same as Endymion holding her, and that's a good thing. It's only that anyone who thought that Kunzite would have no experience with offering comfort has not thought things through. He came into Endymion's service when Endymion was three. And every child cries.
Moon cats, technically, are as far from Earthen cats as the galaxy gets. After all, cats on Earth don't have human forms. And they do live so much longer than even humans do.
When his arm comes around her, she burrows against him as much as possible in the way she's sitting. One hand unfolds from the cat so her fingers can clutch the fabric of his tunic and she can already feel the dampness from her tears.
It's not like Endymion's arms around her at all, and in this moment that's the best thing. The hand at her hair, his steady breathing, even the muffled thrum of his heartbeat helps to calm and steady the flow of tears. And that he's letting her cry is even better.
After awhile, perhaps a few minutes or longer, she's finally composed enough to pull back. Not completely, but if he were to pull away further she wouldn't complain. Because he'd just let her cry.
"Thank you." She wipes her tears away, best she can, and wonders if his tunic will stain with salt. "I just...I've never seen it before."
She's aware Kunzite probably knows this. After all, if he hadn't already guessed her sheltered life -- she knows he has -- he's one of the smartest people she knows, on the Earth or the Moon.
Pulling back is not something that's interfered with. He straightens a little himself, though not specifically away. His head stays a little bent, studying her expression in the light of her own faint glow. His own expression is what it almost always is - that is to say, it's very nearly not there.
"There's no need to justify yourself," he says to her never-seen. "Some people react that way every time. It can't be a thing that happens very often on the Moon." He touches her hair once more - it is, somehow, still not intrusive - and then takes his hand back, setting it on the ground at his side. "And you were fond of that one."
It's not necessarily that he's smart. Zoisite, Nephrite, Endymion ... they're all markedly more intelligent than he is, in their varying ways. Jadeite at least as much. It's only that he hs the patience to watch, and to register the details.
She sniffles again, wiping her cheek again, and though it's small, her smile is genuine, grateful.
Then she shakes her head. "Even death is usually controlled there. And when it's time for a funeral I...don't attend." This one, at least, is of her own choice. "I know why. I just don't want to see it."
And then her smile grows a little more. "He was just so fluffy! And cuddly. And even though he could catch mice with a bell on, he'd always just curl up on your lap! And purr so loud!" And then she blushes, not that it's seen through the red already on her cheeks. "N-not that I put a bell on him or anything..." She has. And it never stayed on. She suspects this kitty had secret opposable thumbs.
She looks up at him, then, eyes wide and curious, and obviously hoping the answer will be yes. "Do you...bury cats?"
She doesn't want to think about circling carrion.
And it's that patience that has her believing he's smarter than maybe he is. Because she knows the other three generals are intelligent. Knows Endymion would understand the concepts and science behind Lunar technology given the chance. But also, even in her naivety, she knows there's a reason why Kunzite acts so much older than he is. He has more experience.
It might have been the kitty. It might have been a stableboy. It might have been Zoisite, with his affinity for pretty slinking predators. There are a remarkable number of possible bell-thieves. Kunzite neither speculates nor forbids her speculation - nor, more importantly, interrupts her reminiscing. It's a little of a rote understanding: sometimes, it helps some people to remember aloud, so it's best to permit them to do so. Distant and uninvolved, as he is with most people, but it works well enough to get by.
- and then she's looking up at him like that, and it's harder to stay uninvolved.
"Some people do, when the cat's been close enough to their family," he says, glossing over the general fate of field and wild and feral beasts. "To lay them to rest, or to keep them close to home, or to return them to the earth. Some people burn them, to set their spirits free. Is there something that would ease your heart to do?"
Breaking another protocol. That would ease her heart. Not Her Highness' heart. Maybe it's the cloak that gets her off the hook? ... no. It's not the cloak.
The two biggest possibilities are the cat himself removed it, realizing that the noise scared off more prey than not, and of course, Zoicite. After all, the cat was pretty, even for a cat. More so, probably, while he slunk about and tracked and pounced.
Part of her begins to deflate as Kunzite only says some people do. She tries to hide it, of course, and probably does a horrible job doing so. But when he asks her what she wants to do, a way to make her feel better, her smile brightens, the kind she's known for, and she looks at him as though he's just offered her all the sweets in the world.
And then she realizes she actually has to think. "Oh! Um...I don't know about burning but...can we bury him?" She likes the idea, very much, of 'returning him to the earth.' And, of course, it has everything to do with the one person they both hold above themselves. Silly, sure, but the earth is his.
As for the breach in protocol, were he not one of Endymion's generals or Endymion himself, or one of her senshi, or the two moon cats, or of course her mother, there would have been a blink or two. Maybe even a quick glance to see that none of the aforementioned people noticed.
Why on earth is she looking like - oh. That's right. He needs to be careful when ascribing motives to her, since she's an alien lifeform and from the Moon. Better to wait and try to see the patterns than to try to figure things out from one incident.
And then he's blindsided by another incident: that smile. And the way she holds herself, and the way her eyes look.
For just one moment, he can understand why Endymion is so taken with this girl. And he can understand how taken. And how little chance there is of Endymion concerning himself with dynastic matters, with succession, with politics, with acknowledging the warnings against these things and stepping back. If that's the way she smiles at him -
It's not the kind of look that would affect Kunzite the same way. But he knows Endymion's heart better than he knows his own. And he knows, suddenly, exactly what having to give up that smile would do to his Prince.
He'll be caught frowning at nothing much more often in the weeks and months to come. But really, he did it so often anyhow, almost nobody is going to notice the change.
All of that takes an instant; it doesn't need thinking through, it's a heartbeat's worth of impression. All that he does outwardly is blink at that smile, once; draw a breath that has a momentary pause after; and then say, "Of course. If you think it appropriate, then that's what will be done. Will it wait till dawn, or does it need to be sooner?" Will she still be here when the dawn comes? Not a question he has a tactful way of asking, no.
Serenity is, fortunately, blissfully unaware of Kunzite's concern regarding her smile. She doesn't even register the blink as much more than 'Kunzite,' and that's okay, because it's Kunzite's blink. (She doesn't know him well, not as much as the other generals, but she knows enough, she thinks. Or hopes.)
It's her turn to blink, then, and then she registers the unasked question and regards the cat in her arms and hums as she thinks. "Today...the moon doesn't set until a few hours after dawn."
Speaking of the moon...
She looks up for a moment before slinking further into the shadow of the stables. Her voice is soft when she speaks. She shouldn't be telling him this, but then, she shouldn't be here. "If...you want to make absolute certain you're alone...stay out of the moonlight."
Not even a concern, so much. The concerns were already there. Just an understanding that his concerns were irrelevant, and always would be, and why. That's not entirely a bad thing. Endymion is ceasing to be a child. Serenity, as well. Princes and Princesses grow up; if the people are around them, they grow into their power, and learn to wield it well. They need to make their own decisions.
Kunzite could wish that that decision had fewer consequences attached. But there's nothing to be done about it except live with it.
"After dawn, then," he says. "When we can see what we're doing." Hopefully Zoisite won't be so attached to that particular one that he minds it going to earth rather than to fire. Maybe if he is, Serenity can make those eyes at him, too. In the mean time, it's not absolutely necessary to stay here. Maybe he can convince her to be escorted somewhere that he can find someone to run messages --
-- she's drawing into the shadow. That's not like her.
And when she speaks, that way, he draws a single silent breath. The rumors are true, then. Or she believes they are. And she's in a position to know.
What is she risking by telling him that? What happens if her guardians, or her mother, find out that she did?
"Then it's good that I have nothing worth hiding," Kunzite says a moment later, after a silence that didn't last more than a pair of heartbeats too long. And, quieter, and utterly nonspecific: "Please be careful, Your Highness."
She sets the body of her poor kitty friend gently on the ground, because she's suddenly a bit nervous and picking at her cloak is better.
"I know you don't." This, of course, is said as offhanded and assuredly as someone saying 'I know you don't like bugs.' "It's just...you seem like you like your privacy." Honestly, she thought he knew. After all, how else would she have been able to watch over Endymion?
And then, since the truth is now lingering in the air, there's something she's always been curious about. It's the reason she's picking at her cloak so much. "If...you knew someone tried to help...a place you lived but couldn't because it was too dry...would you be angry at them?"
There's everyone-knows, and there's someone specific with a reason to know saying it. There's 'of course the Moon Kingdom is spying on Elysion, why wouldn't it be,' or even 'of course the Moon Kingdom found a lock of his hair or some such, and watches the Prince,' and then there's 'of course the Moon Kingdom can see everywhere that moonlight falls. Everywhere on the face of the Earth that's turned toward it.'
He wonders if clouds are enough to stop them. Or buildings. He doesn't ask; he doesn't give a hint of wondering. He doesn't say a word about privacy. (What is privacy, after all? His history is known for those who risk asking; he's spent more than a decade with nearly every waking moment occupied with first one and then four charges, exactly zero of whom have any acquaintance with the concept of 'boundaries' except as 'things it is more fun to be on the wrong side of.')
"No," he says instead, coming to his feet at last. And carefully avoiding thinking about the implications of what she's saying while he's in her presence. "If someone tried to help and failed, unless they tried in a way that they should have known would make matters worse, that's never a reason to be angry with them. Very few people are obligated to help others, so even the attempt is an attempt at a gift. And very few people can control the weather, or the rivers, or the climate. Not being able to control those things is not a fault. Trying to give a gift, and being stopped by something out of your control, is still an attempt to give. And should be cherished accordingly."
Well, Serenity probably does have a lock of Endymion's hair somewhere, and if she does, he has a lock that's...slightly longer of hers. And she may keep hers, if she has it, under her pillow.
And now she's wondering if she's just done a Bad Thing. Not in telling him about it, that's something she's wanted to do for ages but could never think of an excuse for doing so.
She stands, as well, not thinking of expecting a helping hand if only because at home, she's surrounded by women most of her days. And she feels silly just sitting there in just in case someone does. So instead, she brushes off her knees as he speaks, and a lifelong weight lifts from her chest.
She never learned the details, of course, and she'd been far too young to remember most of what happened. All she knew was that it was the first and since rare times she's seen Mother crying, and it was around the first time she saw Endymion. And it wasn't until recently, where she's actually been to the planet, that theories and ideas swam through her mind before sleep.
And she thinks about the maps she always looks at when their kingdom faces away from the earth. "It's so big here. Impossible to watch it all."
She eeps a bit, and another thought occurs to her. And she's worrying her lip as she bends down to pick up the cat. "I...should I not have told you? I just wanted to say thank you. I'm sorry if...it wasn't a good one."
The hand is offered all the same, as she starts to rise; it's withdrawn if it's not taken, but it's a casual thing. There's no vast concern, right now. She's half a princess again, but the other half is still a girl who misses a playmate, even if the playmate wasn't from a species that could talk. Brushing off her knees is vastly more important. So is moving on her own, in a sense.
(He never does quite stop trying to give her at least a view outside the walls she's been constrained in. A walk would be better. But he has no right to do that, not the way he did with Endymion. And, after all, she's the Moon's heir, not the Earth's. Perhaps fitting entirely within those walls is the most important thing up there? ... he can never honestly believe it is.)
Picking up the cat ... well. Kunzite answers her by a gesture, drawing them both inside the stable for a moment or two. Long enough for him to find and claim a spare blanket; long enough for the stableboy to half-wake and be irritably waved back to sleep before he can catch sight of any faint glow.
"Here," he says when they're outside again, and helps her fold the little lump of fur and awkward limbs in that. Maybe if she's not in direct contact with a dead thing when her guardians come looking for her, they'll kill him a little less. And at least it's likely to be figurative, now that she's not crying.
"I appreciate the gift," he says at last. "But you need to be very careful with such gifts, Your Highness. They touch on a blind spot of yours. Or perhaps a spot where you see more clearly than others do, rather than less."
He pauses for the space of a breath, glancing toward her to monitor her expression, then away into the darkness; they've been active here for a little while, and there are more than lunar observers who might take an interest. "Your mind tells you that the Moon and the Earth are separate kingdoms, with their own agendas and priorities. Your heart tells you that both are still made up of people. And you react according to your heart, without considering too closely what your mind knows. No matter how much we might want, or value, or need, things that you could tell us about the Moon's capabilities... every time you tell us something that we didn't know before, those who are afraid that contact with us will damage you may have the chance to make their claim again. It's kindness that guides you. But that won't always stop others from seeing betrayal instead."
And she can move on her own, something she had been so certain she wouldn't be able to do until well after her window for leaving had passed.
(And she will never quite stop listening to him, at least not when his mind is his own. And even then, is it any surprise that many millennia in the future, she'll still follow his guidance, corrupt though he may be? For now, or in this lifetime at least, were such a walk offered to her she would yearn to accept. And, best case scenario, she will have an entourage of overly protective guardians making sure she doesn't sleep in poison oak. And the thing about the moon is, though it's a large satellite to be sure, there isn't much beyond that of the Lake of Serenity. She's explored every nook and cranny available to her, curiosity never abated, and so as always, she often turns toward the beautiful blue planet her home orbits.)
Her steps are silent as she follows, taking the subtle hint of his gesture to remain quiet. And it is this same hint that stays her gasp when the stableboy startles her, instead making herself as small as possible against Kunzite. Which is a lot, and she's already so tiny. If the stableboy does notice a glow, perhaps he will mistake it for a candle or even the last remainder of a dream.
When the cat is wrapped and snug, she pulls the bundle closer, relieved to finally be able to lay her cheek on her friend, even through the wool. "Thank you." Her voice is soft, and even her smile is much softer than the she gave him earlier. Not from lack of being grateful, but more the feeling that if she smiles too brightly too often, someone would hear it. And he's set the tone now for quiet voices.
Serenity raises her head when he begins to speak. At first, her only clear expression is a mildly amused arch of an eyebrow at the return to 'Your Highness.' Then there is a slight rise of a blush in her cheeks at the compliment. And then, she opens her mouth to object to a few of his views of hers, reconsiders, and gives a slight shrug. She knows most of what he says to be true. Or at least, she does now.
"Well, Sir Kunzite, I do believe you know me in ways I didn't." This isn't said in anyway resembling a reprimand (honestly, she's not sure she can even if she tried), and the impish twinkle in her eye when she calls him by title is her way of getting him back for using hers this time.
And then she's studying the bundle in her arms. "Well, most of it. Though, you'd usually be right about not thinking too closely." She shifts the bundle in her arms, making sure that even in death the feline is comfortable. "I hadn't intended to tell any of you, when I first came to visit. Then I found myself wanting to, but knowing I shouldn't. But then I...came to know you. I'd had it narrowed down to either you or Sir Jadeite, because I knew you two were the least likely to...have a loose tongue when inebriated?" She arcs a curious eyebrow at him this time. "But then, the more I thought about it, the more I realized you'd be the obvious choice. Because you watch after him. All of them. And..." She shrugs a shoulder, voice lowering to a mumble. "If he didn't return one day, got lost or something," her mind refuses to think of other alternatives. "I hope it would give you a peace of mind, knowing I won't rest until he's found."
'Sir' wins her a matching arch of an eyebrow in return; even while she's still speaking, he bends his head an inch or so toward her and half-lifts a hand in mock surrender. His expression's barely changed, one corner of his mouth turned up and something going on at the corners of his eyes; but that's much the same as any of the others laughing out loud, and more, there's something alive behind it in a way he rarely lets show even in private. Never lets show, without Endymion there, or another of his Four.
(There might be one more, perhaps before now, perhaps later. There might. She might or might not appreciate it.)
"I've spent too much of my life watching Endymion not to notice when the two of you have something in common," he replies. "Besides getting into trouble, that is." There's that little crease, half-visible in her own light, that confirms he's teasing her again. And the mention of Endymion's name is an implied invitation, the possibility of going to find him. If she's gotten over enough of the shock of her discovery to want to, yet. There would be advantages to that: finding another of the Four, going through the ritual of sending word and waiting for escort, settling her down with someone who can ease her heart far, far better than anyone else. But those advantages aren't worth pushing her into moving before she's ready. Not now.
Least likely to have a loose tongue when inebriated? Ah. She's missed Zoisite, or their spies have misunderstood him - likely the latter. Easy to do, with someone who wears so many of his emotions on his sleeve. Kunzite's train of thought is interrupted a moment later, though, because it's her turn to read him too well. 'All of them.' He glances away again, though not for long.
It's just that when her voice drops, his hand finds her shoulder again even before he's finished looking back to her.
"I know you wouldn't." No Highness. No Princess. Only low and calm and certain. "And you know we'd be doing everything we could to find him before you." Jadeite with his skill with people. Zoisite with his knack for finding the disruption in a pattern. Nephrite speaking with the stars.
"If I could give the two of you a world where these things didn't matter - where the planet you were born on made no difference, where we could talk together freely, work together without concern - I would do that in a heartbeat, and not count the cost. Short of that ... we'll do our best for you. And try to trust that your people will do the same."
She responds to that look of his like a botanist witnessing the bloom of a rare flower or an explorer discovering something new and beautiful in the world. Nothing short of awe and happiness. And she decides she wants to see it again, when it comes at her next.
Her heart swells a bit, being compared to Endymion. After all, the earth's prince is the best person she knows. And even when she tries to affect a quiet, devious giggle at the mention of their mutual propensity for shenanigans and his subtle teasing, which admittedly sounds like something a kitten might to chortle if it could, she still feels that warm glow. And the mention of Endymion's name, perhaps much to Kunzite's relief, leaves her with a wistful sigh. After all, though the general was perhaps the best person who could have found her in the beginning, she was more free and far more inclined to snuggle against the prince if she got sad again.
It's very possible she's missed Zoicite, and he should have been on the list rather than Jadeite. But the rather expressive and youngest general most likely guards his secrets close outside the privacy of his room, or in company other than the four others he spends so much time with.
The feel of his hand on her shoulder among other things causes her to lean toward him and her shoulders to relax. For a brief moment, her hand is on his and she gives a hum. "I know you would."
And then. She turns to look at him, eyes wide, and the smile that results from his words, while less broad than the one earlier, is just as genuine. And she buries it as it grows against his shoulder, an arm hugging his as she once again hums, happy. She's not there long, of course. Even she knows society usually finds this kind of display unseemly, regardless of the nature. She should be cautious for his reputation!
When she pulls away, she's still happy and beaming. Not because wants him to do those things, before the last sentence, but because he said them. But instead of commenting on it, choosing instead to hide them in her heart, she tilts her head and squints her eyes a little in mild suspicion. "Is he actually sleeping, or is he up to mischief again?"
Serenity will be able to pull off devious when -- when -- Kunzite can't actually think of an appropriate comparison. Kitten indeed. And like a kitten, she's given free rein for contact. Hand on his, arm around his, face against his shoulder: these things are absolutely permissible, now. So long as no-one is watching.
There are no times when no-one is watching.
There are times when he decides the risk is worth it, and this remains one of them. Even if it means proximity to Serenity's morbid bundle of wool; a cat is one of the least distressing dead things he's had to deal with. A matter-of-fact awkwardness, nothing more. Except that it's more to her, and therefore there will be a hunt for suitable burial locations to offer her before dawn, and an attempt to find something more graceful than shovels and a bit of wool before moonset.
But before those...
"Not my watch," Kunzite says, as if that actually made any difference to whether or not he knew precisely where Endymion was. "He's supposed to be sleeping. Either he actually is, or he's up to something that probably won't take him too long to get back from." Which is a potential any time it's not Kunzite's watch, and ... well. More than a few times it has been.
She will be able to pull it off in a few millennia, after some chaos has died down and people are themselves again, and likely try to pounce Kunzite just to see if she could sneak up on him. For now, even her most devious of thoughts would make a nun roll her eyes.
Serenity won't, of course, start pouncing him with hugs (in this lifetime) should she suspect they're more than just tolerated. But she will be happy knowing she could, if she really wanted or needed to. And though she may feel a tiny bit embarassed burying a cat around boys who have seen more death than they should had, she will be both happy and grateful for the lengths they will go to.
She giggles a little. "Mischief, probably. Since you're not on watch." A slight sway on her heels as she pulls the hood over her hair, definitely in higher spirits than when he'd first seen her that night. And though her hood is down, he could probably see the impish gleam in her eye. She does not, however, say out loud that pouncing his bed to see if he was sleeping would probably not lead to less nights of mischief.
Mischief, shenanigans, and her mind twists and turns down a few paths until she blinks. "Oh. Kunzite? What does wine here taste like?" She's had wine during feasts and balls back at home, of course. And while she may or may not know it, the alcohol content in wine here on earth is probably closer to grape juice.