"YOU AREN'T GOING TO tell me, I know you're not," Kit said with a dejected sigh. It was worrying, how determined she was not to tell him how to extract the shard from Lionel. That either meant she didn't like the answer herself, or she had no idea. Or both. Either way, it was dangerous. "You don't want Connor to hear, I get it. But at least tell someone else."

Sera kept silent as the wind blew across the shore, jaw set in stubborn rebellion. She was always secretive, but when he knew her, she was gentle. Something happened since then that made her cold, and Kit didn't expect having a child to do that to her.

"Listen, I'm sorry I knocked you up," he said, hoping he finally caught her attention. "I would've cared for him if I knew."

"I didn't want you to."

"Why?"

"Because the kind of man that's immature enough to knock up a maid is not fit to be a father," she told him sternly, and he sucked in a breath. "The only reason I was is because I've raised children before. I grew up too fast, Kit, and unfortunately Lionel will, too."

"It didn't have to be that way," he said. "Back then I still had my mother. I had Selene, I had Herwerde, they would've helped me."

"And they would've judged me."

Kit bowed his head. "Not my mother."

"You're only saying that because you idolize her."

"I'm saying it because she's like you."

That shut her up. He could feel her frigid dark eyes on him, even without his sight, and he did his best to look her way.

"I'm not a Pendragon," he said. "No one really said anything official because it'd mean my mother's execution, but we all knew. I was her Lionel."

"Oh," said Sera softly, tone far gentler than he was used to. "I'm sorry."

Kit dug as his palm. "She would've helped you, Sera. But I'm sorry I put you in this situation, one way or another."

"Don't beat yourself up," she murmured. "My life was never going to be easy from the start. I was raised in Fells, you know. You don't get to have it easy there."

Kit knew she really meant "here." He wasn't an idiot, he knew where they were. He just had to hope Connor didn't catch on with him.

He kicked a pebble with his toe. "I guess I should get some rest. You might do well to sleep, too."

Sera shivered, and he could hear the rustling of her clothes as she turned away. "You're right," she told him. "Good talk. Goodbye, Kristofer."

Goodbye. Such a strange choice of word.

"Goodnight," he told her, and he stood there until she was gone, leaving him alone on the sand. He stood there for a long while, until Morgana came for him and led him back to the room.

Eurion and Chalice greeted him when he entered, and he nodded their way as accurately as he could. He was sat down onto the bed, and he could hear quiet movements more acutely than he'd heard them before.

"Move over," Morgana demanded after awhile, and Kit obeyed, laying down and sliding close to the wall.

The faery crawled in after him, attaching himself to his side right away and tucking his face in his neck. It felt nice, but it was strange. Usually Morgana made sure no one could see them wrapped up in each other, so Kit took his arm and fixed him with a look of confusion.

"They know," was all Morgana said, and he didn't know whether to consider it an improvement or not. Either way, it gave him the confidence to wrap his arms around his thin frame, holding him to his chest until their hearts beat against each other in a steady rhythm.

While the faery was sound asleep in minutes, Kit couldn't get his mind to settle for a long time. There was so much to think about, he couldn't rest until his eyes were begging him to close. It was Morgana's soft, soothing fingers absentmindedly scratching the nape of his neck that finally lulled him.

He slept through the morning, and he was shocked to find that his arms were not empty as he expected them to be. Morgana had his back to him, sitting up while Kit's arms still clutched his waist. Judging by the smell, he assumed he was tending to the wounds on his arm.

"Morning," Kit murmured, sitting up and pressing his forehead to the nape of the faery's neck.

"There's food," was all he said.

As tempting as that was, he didn't want to move just yet. Not when Morgana felt so right in his arms like this. He didn't budge until his stomach growled and cramped with hunger, and he finally stood.

"Let me help you," Morgana ordered, standing to his feet and clutching Kit's bicep to guide him. He took him out and towards the center of the village where they saved a meal for him.

It was embarrassing, the way he needed help with everything, right down to eating. He didn't expect such patience from Morgana, but from the moment they got here, he'd been at his side, feeding him and helping him dress and leading him about the place so he didn't trip like an idiot.

"Maybe you can help me take a bath next," he murmured with a smirk, and Morgana smacked his arm.

"Behave yourself," he grumbled. "I'd be more than happy to dump you into the lake and let the fish eat you."

"Do you really think there's man-eating fish in that lake?"

Morgana huffed. "Just shut up and eat, you massive idiot."

Kit laughed but did as he was told, silent as he was spoon-fed like a toddler.

The sun was high in the sky when he reunited with his companions, ready for their next adventure. He had no idea where they were leaving to, but he could trust their judgment.

"Where's Sera?" Morgana asked.

"Gone," Lionel murmured. "She said she had somewhere to be."

Idiot, Kit told himself. That's why she said goodbye. She had no plans to stay. And she'd never tell him about Lionel.

"Of course," he sighed. "We don't need her. We'll be fine, let's just get on our way."

"Wait," the boy said, and wedged something into his hand. It was a small bottle. "She said put that on your eyes once we're gone, it's so you can not be blind anymore."

Kit ruffled his hair. "Thanks, kid."

Morgana slipped a cold arm around Kit's as they started on their walk, his way of holding himself up and guiding him all at once, but it still felt like a small piece of rare affection he didn't often get the privilege of enjoying. There was still a lingering voice in the back of his mind, telling him not to fall for it. As long as he had feelings to be manipulated, Morgana would use them against him. He couldn't let his guard down.

But for now, he let his stomach turn and his chest get hot. It was the least he could do.

* * *

Queen Atla twirled a strand of azure hair around her long, slender finger, poking at her food with her knife. She wasn't hungry, she never was after a fight. Mab didn't know how to say sorry, so she fixed her a meal to try to make up for it as she always did, but Atla just couldn't stomach it tonight.

"You can't ignore me forever, you know," the old woman murmured. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"A simple sorry would be nice," she spat, breaking out of her silent shell.

Mab pinched the bridge of her nose. "What is there to be sorry for? Wanting to keep my people and, God forbid, my own child safe?"

"I've not been a child for centuries, mother," she argued, stabbing her knife into the meat before her. Mab stared at her in disbelief. "I decide what's best for my people, not you. You put me in charge because you trusted my judgment, that's what you always told me. How much of that is really true?"

The Queen folded her fingers together, glancing up at Atla from beneath her brow. She took a deep breath, like she was bracing herself for something. "I'm sorry," she finally told her. "I was only trying to help. I've ruled over these people since--"

"You were so close," Atla told her, shaking her head. "You could've stopped after 'sorry,' and maybe it would've worked."

She pushed herself to her feet. Thankfully, her mother did not try to stop her as she stormed out of the dining room and into the dizzying foyer. She froze in her tracks when she felt a familiar buzz in her gut, and she followed it outside and beyond the wall of trees.

There, she was met by that strange band of heroes, as beat up as she remembered them to be, limping her way with tired feet and weary faces.

"What the blessed hell are you doing back here again?"

"Your Majesty," said the Unseelie, nodding his head her way. "We came for your mother. We need her help."

She groaned. "I was just leaving," she told them. "Go find her yourselves."

Something in the Seelie's hand caught her eye. A shining, golden trophy, and her eyes widened. It couldn't be.

"Please, Your Majesty," the princess pleaded. "We are so sorry to intrude, but we didn't know where to go. Can you take us to her?"

Atla observed their faces, their wide, begging eyes and tired postures. She never got soft for anyone, but if her child of the snow and his companions needed her help, she couldn't find it in herself to deny them.

"Fine," she grumbled. "I'll take you to her if you promise me one thing."

Morgana raised a brow. "Go on."

Atla huffed. "We've just had a fight. Knowing her, she'll try to use you all to fix it. Promise not to get involved, no matter how tempting she'll make it seem."

The man scoffed. "That's it?" he asked. "Stay out of your family feud? As if it's hard."

She swallowed, and her eyes flickered to the others, then back to him. "You'd be surprised. Humans may find Unseelies to be rather persuasive."

"It's a deal," Morgana told her, clutching his side. He looked worse than when she saw him last. At least he wasn't a prisoner this time.

With a sharp inhale, Atla gathered up her courage, ushering the group along with her, leading them down the path until they reached Mab's palace. She was alarmed to find the Queen was there already, stepping through the door with a strange urgency, only to pause when she saw the guests.

Her face lit up. "It's you," she breathed. "Heavens, it's been far too long. I'm surprised you're even alive. How did you escape the Seelie prisons?"

"That was all Chalice," the thief said proudly.

Mab's eyes settled mournfully on the druid. "You're back," she said. "I knew it."

Atla cleared her throat, breaking through the awkward silence that had fallen over them all. She didn't know what her mother knew of that battle in Avalon, and frankly, she didn't care. "Are you going to take them?"

"Oh. Right." Her mother pushed the heavy doors open again, ushering them inside. Atla hesitated, but her curiosity got the better of her, and she trailed in after them. She knew she'd do best to go back home, but she wanted to know why they'd come all this way again.

"The rest of you, go wash up," said Mab, and pulled Morgana aside. "I've got something for you. You can head in after them."

Atla didn't want to leave him alone with the crazy Queen, but the others didn't know their way around the palace, so she sent the man an apologetic look and led the others on, praying to the heavens she didn't scare him away.

"He'll be okay," she told the worried prince, as much as she was telling the same thing to herself.