IT BEGAN WITH A sore throat. Giselle struggled to swallow anything because of it, and speaking was becoming a challenge. She thought maybe it was just all the walking and the heat and the sand. But when she started to sweat in the cold peaks of the mountains, she knew it wasn't the desert's fault.

To her luck, her friends went along with her excuses. She drank as much water as possible, but when it came out in the sweat dampening her skin, she told them she was dehydrated so no one would question how thirsty she'd been.

There was only so long she could hide this from them. Soon, she would start to crack. She would sweat enough that it wouldn't blend into the natural shimmer of her skin, and her eyes would cry rivers until she had nothing left in her. But for now, while it was mild, she wouldn't dare worry them more than they already worried. Time would break the news for her.

The East Continent wasn't as cold as Avalon could be. But it was colder than the South, and Giselle shivered as Sera and Kit rowed them along the wide river which cut through the East, holding her cloak tighter around her figure. It was better than walking the whole way, but the water splashing against her and the wind hitting her skin made her shiver, and Selene's best attempts to warm her were failing.

"Kit," Selene called out. "Trade me."

Giselle looked up at her. "What? Why?"

"Look at him," the Lady said. "He's got the most body heat out of all of us. He'll be more useful holding you than I am."

She pouted when she left her, but she couldn't complain too long when Kit curled himself around her. Selene was right, he was warmer than the rest of them, and it was enough to get her to stop trembling. He was like a walking fireplace, and his arms were as soft as they were strong.

Morgana's intense gaze never left her, but when Kit came over, it got stronger, the worry replaced my anger.

"You've got a staring problem," she told her friend with a grin. "You trying to read my mind?"

"Was I staring?" he asked, as if he was staring through her and not right at her with frostbitten eyes.

Realization dawned on her gave, and Giselle settled further into Kit with a smug grin. "Are you jealous?"

"Who would I be jealous of?"

She looked up at Kit, then back to the Unseelie. "Take your pick."

He crossed his arms and slumped down into the boat. "Well, I'm not jealous."

It wasn't a lie, he couldn't have said it if it was, but she still took a moment trying to pick apart how he could be telling the truth when he showed every sign of envy there was to show. Perhaps he managed to convince himself he wasn't jealous, enough that he could lie about it.

She shifted in Kit's arms, freeing Morgana from further torment when she closed her eyes. It was a good thing that Sera managed to steal them a canoe, otherwise she wouldn't have been able to lean back against the prince like this, in a way that kept her warm.

It was a strange interaction, but smart. Two fishermen stood at the banks, trying to tie it to a post. Sera put on her best hysterical face and rushed there way, crying about some nearby disaster that she couldn't possibly do anything about. When the men ran off in alarm to solve her made-up catastrophe, she took her chance. The boat was large and meant to accommodate nets full of fish, but it was just big enough to carry all of them.

A wheezing cough left her mouth, pulling her from her thoughts, and Morgana jumped up.

"Don't rock the boat," Sera ordered, and he froze, sending a glare the woman's way. He didn't like her for some reason, but Giselle had a theory.

"I'm okay, Morgana, really," she croaked, trying to sound convincing. It wasn't working, she could tell by the way he never even blinked after that. He settled back into place despite his panic, and Giselle tried not to cough again.

The ride through the East was long, and by the time they reached the sea, it was nightfall. Sera docked the boat and the eight of them settled on the seashore to sleep. They didn't light a fire this time, only huddled together for warmth. They couldn't risk giving themselves away, even to strangers.

Giselle was at the center of the pile, the most comfortable. But she was the last to sleep. There was a terrible itch in her throat and an ache in her chest, but she didn't want to cough in front of the others. It was becoming insufferable, though, enough that it was growing beyond her control.

As quietly as she could, the princess slipped away from the group. She traveled down the shore, far enough to be out of earshot when she finally let the coughs rattle her body. This time, they didn't cease. At least, not until her forehead pooled with sweat and tears were streaming down her face and her head was spinning. She was on her knees, holding herself up against a rock, watching the waves crash upon the shore while the water poured from her body all at once.

As soon as it started, it never stopped. The sweat dripped until she felt like she'd been standing in the rain, seeping through her clothes, and her tears pooled enough to sting, blurring her vision and never giving it back. Even her hair, often resistant to water, dampened and stuck to her face and neck.

She should've told Morgana. She should've told Selene. Maybe then, she could've said her goodbyes before the disease took her, turned her into a sad slump on the shore, only a short run away from the ones she loved, her last moments a lonely misery that could've been avoided if she'd only said something.

The world darkened around her. Giselle was no fighter, so she let it come. But she fell away, head against the rock, with the thought of Selene and Morgana and her mother, and the world they could've had together.

* * *

When Selene woke up, her arms were empty. Sometimes Giselle woke up before her, so she thought nothing of it at first. But when she sat up, the Seelie was nowhere to be seen. She wasn't watching the waves or admiring the flowers in the meadow or picking the berries from the nearby bushes like she normally would've even if they weren't going hungry.

"Morgana," she whispered, shaking him awake. It almost took more effort to wake him than it did with Kit, but he opened his eyes eventually.

He knit his brow when he looked up at her. "What do you want?"

She'd worry about his attitude later. "Giselle is gone," she whispered. "I don't see her. I need help."

Morgana shot up faster than a sick man should've been able to, brushing the sand from his long hair and pushing himself to his feet with the help of his walking stick. "She's close," he said, to her relief. "Close enough that I can't figure out the direction."

Together, they called for the princess. They searched the shore one way, then the rainforest nearby, but there was no response. Their calls became more frantic, more desperate, more afraid. Giselle never did this. She would never leave them like this.

"Are you sure you can't feel what way she went?" Selene asked, swallowing back the lump in her throat.

Morgana stuffed a hand into his hair. "I'm trying, Selene," he whispered. "She's not as strong. She's fading."

"Wake the others," she ordered. "We'll look together."

By the time they returned to the shore, the others were already up and confused. Morgana told them what was going on, while Selene made her way down the sandy beach ahead of him, crying out for her lover, praying to the Gods the ocean didn't take her.

Then she froze. Lying against a large rock, away from her initial line of sight, she saw a familiar head of coily hair. But the lavender was gone, replaced with a dead bronze shade. Traces of blue still curled around the strands, but it was fading. All her color was gone, it was no wonder she didn't see her from the distance.

"I found her!" she called, scooping her up in her arms. She was soaking wet, and the sand around her body was soaked into mud, but there was no water trail leading her there, and the waves were still several paces away. It was so obvious, she should've seen it earlier.

The others came rushing to their side, horrified at the spectacle.

"Oh, Giselle," Selene whimpered, ignoring the questions sent flying her way. She shook the princess, brushed her hair away from her face, took her hand and pressed it to her lips. "Giselle, please, I know this isn't how it ends. Wake up. Please."

Morgana knelt down beside her, hands rushing over the Seelie with a fear she'd never seen from him before. "She's still breathing," he said, fishing around Giselle's pockets until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a small, familiar pouch, and from it he plucked a remedy. "Come on, Princess, deep breath."

Selene placed a hand on Giselle's sternum, waiting to feel her breaths. "Now," she told Morgana, and he snapped open the remedy right as the Seelie took in a shallow breath.

It was enough. Selene could see the roots of her hair brighten, and her eyelids twitched, long lashes fluttering against the sun.

"Please," she whispered. "You're almost there, Giselle, come on."

Finally, the princess opened her eyes. They were dull, but not lifeless, and confused as they flickered between Morgana and Selene.

A smile broke over Giselle's face, and Selene let out something between a laugh and a sob.

"You're awake," she whispered. "Thank the Gods."

Giselle reached up a hand, weakly brushing her fingers over Selene's face. "Am I in Paradise now?"

The Lady tucked her head into the princess's damp neck. "You're alive, Giselle. You almost weren't."

"Oh." Then, after a moment, "I meant to tell you, Selene."

She pulled away, looking down at her. She wasn't angry, but her voice shook when she spoke. "When? When this awful disease took you away from me? Did you plan to tell me when you'd become a swan, or an iris, or a willow or whatever you become when you die?"

Giselle's eyes shifted in shame. "I thought it happened slower. I would've told you when the tears came, but they came so suddenly."

She couldn't be mad at her, she was just glad she was alive. Morgana, however, had a fury in his eyes that only meant danger. It wasn't for Giselle, but no one else was safe from him.

"Sera, we need that Grail," he snapped. "If you're good for anything, you'll take us there faster than tomorrow morning."

"I can't alter the geography, Morgana, I'm only a druid," Sera argued.

"Then call upon a God to move the mountains, something, I don't care. If there is a faster way, take us there," he ordered.

Normally, Selene would've tried to calm him down, but she was on the same page as him this time.

Sera searched the crowd for anyone to defend her, and she threw up her hands when no one did. "There isn't a way. Unless we could stand to walk without a break, we aren't getting there until tomorrow morning."

"So if we did nothing but travel the entire way, without a break, we'd arrive by morning," Morgana said, and Sera rolled her eyes.

"Probably," she told him. "But we aren't. None of us are in the condition to walk like that after all this."

"We'll be in the condition because we don't have a damn choice," he hissed. He turned to Chalice. "You. You weakened the bloody Seelie Queen. Surely you can strengthen your friends for a day."

Chalice looked down at their hands, then back up at him. "I--I don't know. I guess I could try."

"Then try," he commanded. "Sera, help them. We're crossing the sea either way, figure it out while we do."

When Morgana turned to walk towards the boat, the woman reached out and caught his wrist. "Since when were you in charge here?" she said. "I'm the one that knows where we're going."

The Unseelie yanked his hand away and turned to her, leaning in close. They were the same height, but he looked so much taller in that moment. "Since the woman I love more than I love anyone in the world almost died on my fucking watch. You'll listen to me from now on, do you understand?"

Sera clenched her jaw. She could've overpowered him, Selene was sure, but she was wise enough to back down when he got like this. Her jaw remained clenched, and she never shrunk to him, but she took a step back and fixed him with a glare. "Fine," she told him. "But I'm not doing this for you."

"Good. I don't want you to."