When Alouette steps into Harry's office the following morning, she finds three piles of folders stacked up on his desk. He's taken off the black jacket of his suit, and the lights coming in from the window paint the white sleeves of his dress shirt green and pink.

"Bad moment?" she asks, stopping in the frame of the door.

"Was there ever a good one?"

Alouette laughs. "If you're trying to make me feel bad about forcing you to take an unpaid holiday and leaving you with extra homework, I'm afraid it's not working out."

Harry puts down a folder and goes on to the next. "You know, I believe the right term would be kidnapping, and that's quite illegal."

She moves a pile of papers to the side and sits on the desk. "As if you've never done anything illegal! You can't suddenly start caring about the law when crime comes back to bite you, that's hypocritical."

Harry narrows his eyes, studying her silently for a long moment. "You're getting too comfortable," he states, and even though Alouette can tell he's joking, something in his tone makes her wonder if she isn't treading closer to the edge than she realises.

She clears her throat and lifts the folder she's been holding this whole time. "I don't want to add on to—" a quick glance at Harry's table, "—whatever's going on here, but this came in yesterday."

Harry's gaze dips to the new arrival for the quick instant it takes him to recognise it. "I presume you've already read it thoroughly."

"You're presuming right." Alouette flicks through the pages. "And something's missing."

He closes the folder he was checking. "What is it?"

"Some information about the Shade's spy system. I think I read more about it when we were still at the Revolution, but now it's nowhere to be found." She raises her eyebrows. "Either that or I'm going crazy."

Harry hums. "It looks like Ezra wants to remain valuable to us."

It takes her just a moment to catch on. "Do you think he's scared you might take over if he gives you too much information?"

"Undoubtedly." He tilts his head. "I have to admit it's a little upsetting. I was looking forward to cutting him out of the operation."

Alouette glares at him. "You signed a deal."

"A deal, not a promise. Deals are meant to be broken."

"Deals are meant to stay, so that the two parties don't kill each other."

Harry chuckles. "I'm afraid Ezra has already had his chance to take me out of the game—and he's wasted it." He looks up at her. "And so have you... I suppose that's where the family ties come in?"

Alouette lets out a hard laugh. Then she pulls out a knife and puts it blade-first to his neck. "Take it back."

He doesn't flinch at her sudden movement—whether he expected it or she isn't scary enough to threaten his sempiternal calm, she can't tell. "Just where did you get that?" he asks conversationally.

"I swiped it from today's breakfast."

He raises an eyebrow. "The butter knife? Really?" He lets out a sigh. "I'm sure I've taught you better than to threaten me with a dull blade."

Alouette lets out a laugh, because he's right. She doubts it would be enough to cut through soft bread, let alone someone's throat. "It's more for effect," she admits, "it doesn't matter what it is as long as I can make them believe I could kill them with it if an emergency comes."

Harry's throat moves against the blade, but it truly isn't sharp enough to do much of anything. "You would've had a better run with a paper sheet from that folder." He nods to her hand, still clasped on her lap.

"I guess so," Alouette gives in, "but being the one with the upper hand gets boring after a while. Thought I'd give you a chance to fight back."

He laughs and stands up. "Careful, little bird," he murmurs, leaning towards her, the desk between them, "someone might think you get off holding a blade to my throat. I bet you'd love to do it while ri—"

The knife falls on the desk with a clatter. "Fuck, Harry," Alouette mutters under her breath.

Harry's eyes are twinkling as he takes in her face. "Should I take it as a yes, then?" he asks softly, tilting his head. "It's hard to tell fear and excitement apart sometimes. How troublesome."

Alouette stares deep into his eyes, as if she could see anything other than the dull, greyish-green tint his eyes often turn in his office. "It's funny, I've known you for months and yet I still can't tell if sometimes you're moved by absolute recklessness or a very strong death wish."

"Where would the fun be if I were to tell you?"

Alouette lets out a stiff chuckle and picks up the butter knife again. "It's because the blade's dull," she can't help but share, grazing it with her thumb. "I could never hold an actual knife to your throat."

"You already have."

Her head snaps up. "That was before..." Her voice dies out, but she knows he knows what she's referring to. "I—I could never. Just the thought of a blade coming near you..." She has to close her eyes and shake her head to push back the sudden wave of nausea that comes over her. Harry is still silent, and she opens her eyes again, catching him staring at her. She knows her instinctive reaction hasn't escaped his attention. "I probably shouldn't have told you that, is that right? Now you can use it against me."

A faint smile curves Harry's lips. "You're learning." He sits back down and opens the folder again. "I must admit I thought you were taking revenge for the lack of attention I've given you lately," he adds after a moment.

"Don't give me ideas."

The corners of his lips turn up again even as his eyes drift through the sentences written on the page, as if the mild threat pleases him.

Alouette crouches in front of the desk and leans her head on her folded arms, studying him curiously. "Did it really not scare you?"

Harry's gaze finds hers again. For a long while, she thinks he won't actually answer. "It did," he says in the end, surprising her.

"It didn't look like it did."

He smiles. "I take pride in that."

She bites her lower lip. She truly can't understand him sometimes. It's a good kind of not understanding, though—the one that screams not yet, not yet, not yet. Not a precluded road, but one waiting to be paved. Because this is what Harry is to her—a frozen lake, fresh water just under the icy surface. An unclimbed mountain, a journey half-completed. He doesn't let people in easily—every sentence, every secret is a conquest, a gift. It's been a few months since she's realised that, if she trusts him and sides with him, he'll show her loyalty in return. It's the only way to melt the ice that surrounds him, to break the tip of the spears he protects himself with. She wants every mystery, every whispered confidence. She wants everything he's willing to give her—and suddenly, those three words she let escape weeks ago come back to her. Suddenly she remembers just how defenceless she is in front of him. Harry looking for her that night of a few days ago made her feel like she had the upper hand, but now the weight of the truth seizes her—Harry might feel something for her, but she's irremediably in love with him. Her feelings have soared on newborn wings, and the way back down is long and crowded with asperities—even more so because she's a single sentence from him away from crashing. The lack of ground under her feet steals her awareness.

"You're staring."

Alouette blinks quickly and stands up. "Was I? I didn't notice." She grabs the folder again, not liking the way Harry is looking at her. He always seems to see more than she's willing to show, and she's terrified he might see the truth of her feelings in her eyes. "Something else is missing too," she changes topic quickly, pretending to go through the pages. "There's still no mention of... of what Ezra sent me to do."

"He's withholding information."

"What if..." She frowns. "What if it didn't have anything to do with the Shade?"

"It's a possibility."

Alouette bites her lower lip nervously again, scanning the sentences with her eyes, hoping she'll find a reference to it, anything that will make that conspiracy of cawing what ifs vanish from her mind.

"What are you thinking?"

Her head snaps up to Harry. "I... I don't like it," she replies after a beat.

He cocks his head, a curious look in his eyes. "I thought you held close bonds with the Revolution?"

"The Revolution is my family," she says defensively.

"It shouldn't be a problem, then." Harry's eyes narrow. "Or, do you not trust your family?"

Alouette has the sudden sensation Harry may be trying to draw a wedge between her and Ezra, and despite her best instinct, she retreats. At the Revolution she'd been quick to ask for his help, but now she can't help but wonder if things have changed, now that he's back to the Palace. Would he help her, or would he use it to separate her from the Revolution even more? "I just don't like it," she mutters. "And I don't—"

The door opens and Jesse steps inside, shortly followed by Jayden. "Here at last!" Jesse exclaims, and Alouette is quick to shut her mouth. Not even she completely knows what she was about to say, but she has the distinctive awareness that she shouldn't let Jesse know.

"I'm sorry, sir, I tried to stop him," Jayden says quickly, but his pleading look goes unnoticed by Harry.

"Let's move to my personal guard's meeting rooms, I'm afraid my office isn't set for a meeting," he says, and Jayden is quick to grab Jesse and pull him out of the room.

Alouette walks after them, but she stops and turns around when Harry calls out to her.

"By the way, Alouette—no holiday is unpaid, for me. Passive income exists." He sends an arrogant smile as he walks past her, leaving her to stand alone in the middle of his office.

She scoffs and follows him out, and Evie locks the door in their wake.

When they walk into the meeting room, a man is sitting at the desk, his back to them. He looks young, around her age, and after a moment she recognises him as the guard that accompanied Jesse on their first day. His feet are propped up on the table and his laptop on his legs, and he seems to be having much more fun than it should be acceptable to have at work.

Harry comes up behind him, but he's too distracted to hear the tapping of slow steps coming towards him. He tilts his head, and Alouette knows that, if she were on the other side of the table, she'd see a smile on his face. The dangerous sort, though. "Are you hacking into the governmental records of Dacran again, Brooks?"

The alleged Brooks gasps and gets his feet off the table. His hand flies out to steady his laptop and he spins around on his seat. "Mr. Styles!" For a moment, he looks like he's about to pass out. "I've got to tell you, sir, this whole sneaking up on people thing isn't good for your image." Another moment passes, and then he seems to register Harry's words. "Ah, you know, I've got to keep my training fresh! But also, no governmental records. I thought I'd see if the cameras filmed anything interesting during the attacks on Dacran."

Harry gives him a faint nod. "You're aware that all you need to do is make a formal request to access the videos to me or Mr. Jackson, correct?"

Brooks stares at him for a long moment. "That's boring, though," he says after a beat. He lets out a funny cough. "May I, though?"

Harry walks around the table and he sits on the opposite side of him, crossing his arms. "Of course. Have fun."

Brooks nods, looking at Harry expectantly. Harry studies him in return, and the silence stretches longer.

"I might need the credentials and password, though, our system is holding up way too well."

Harry smiles, at last. "I'm very glad the Dacran network is inaccessible to you at the moment, it would've been terribly bothersome to find out we have to fix it. Mr. Jackson will give you all the information you seek. Tell him I request his presence on your way out."

Brooks closes the laptop and jumps up. "Thank you, sir." He rushes out of the room, and Alouette sends Harry a puzzled glance.

"That would be the Palace's main computer specialist," Harry lets them know, and Alouette nods slowly. Computer specialist indeed, she thinks. The illegal kind.

Jesse sits in Brooks's seat and, after a moment, Jayden sits down next to him, leaving Alouette to take the seat next to Harry—not that she's complaining. Still, it feels weird to be this close to him while others are around, after so many days of waltzing around each other to feign an appearance of alliance that doesn't cross any boundaries. Harry puts Ezra's folder on the table and she's stricken to realise how distracted by his presence she has been, because she doesn't even know when he took it from her hands.

"That looks familiar," Jesse chirps, taking it and earning a side-glance from Jayden, that shifts his chair closer to him to look at the contents over his shoulder.

"What is, exactly, the Shade?" he asks, and Harry smiles.

"A fun little name, isn't it?"

"They're criminals."

"A group of animals," Harry corrects Alouette, "that are threatening to tear my country apart, which means we're going to have to kill every single one of them before that happens."

Alouette's head snaps towards Harry. "We've said nothing about killing."

"Wasn't that obvious?"

"No."

"They tried to kill me, so now it's my turn," Harry says conversationally. "I won't stop until I've made an example of them all."

"Oh yes, let's hang their metaphorical heads on your metaphorical spikes to reassert ownership over the Palace," Jesse says sarcastically, continuing in a quiet whisper, "and then he wonders why people call him a dictator."

Unfortunately the room is silent, and Harry hears him all too well. "You may want to keep quiet before I decide your head is worth hanging on my metaphorical spike."

Jesse gasps loudly. Then, a moment later, "that sounded oddly sexual. Was that an innuendo?"

Jayden is hiding his face in his hands, now. "Jesse, please."

"I need to know if that was an innuendo!" Jayden tries to silence him with a hand, but Jesse moves away. "You don't understand, him coming onto me is going straight on my list of achievements."

"I'll hang your head on your own metaphorical spike if you don't stop, Jesse," Alouette barks at him, letting out a chuckle as she speaks. This situation is turning ridiculous.

"Ah, but why not Jayden's?"

Jayden's mouth falls open. Harry looks like he's torn between finding the situation funny and wanting to get rid everyone in the room. Alouette has the instantaneous realisation that one single man is, indeed, enough to threaten the stability of the deal between the Palace and the Revolution. Jesse is blushing wildly now, and it's suddenly very clear to everyone that he did not mean to say what he just said.

Jayden starts muttering a stream of apologies towards Harry, but he can't even look at him in the eyes. Alouette laughs nervously. This must be the end.

The door opens and Jackson steps inside. "Called for me, sir?"

Alouette glances at the ceiling and thanks their lucky stars as Harry's attention is shifted from the situation at hand to the man standing near the door.

"We'll need to send ten men to Greenside," Harry instructs, "stealthily."

Something passes through him and Jackson, and then the latter nods. "It will be done, sir. Anything else?"

Alouette glares at Jesse, and he mouths sorry. She wants to get mad at him, but he seems so embarrassed that she has to press her lips together to hide a smile.

In the meantime Harry and Jackson have exchanged more words, and he's closed the door and approached the table.

For the next three hours, their meeting goes surprisingly smoothly. They review the content of the folder and connect it to what they already know, coming up with a plan to coordinate the Palace's actions with the Revolution's. The absurdity of the collaboration isn't lost on anyone, and Harry and Alouette are the only ones that are able to feign an appearance of normalcy. After all, even though it comes as a novelty to everyone else, the two heirs to their fathers' empires have been working side by side for months.

It's odd to think of it that way. How have their fathers' struggles and fights brought them to stand side by side today, enacting a collaboration between a government and an illegal organisation for the first time since the Revolution was founded? All their life, they did nothing but walk in their parents' footsteps. When did they take a different turn? When was it that their previously parallel paths started to dangerously converge? Was it when Alouette chose not to kill Harry? When she agreed to go after him, when she kissed him? Or was it before that, when her father let her in on his whispered secret a night of many years ago, standing near their kitchen counter? Or when Harry chose to swear his oath in front of the country, taking what once had been his father's seat after his untimely death? Would they be standing side by side now if their fathers still walked the earth, whispering their truth in their ears with hands on their shoulders?

A hand squeezes Alouette's knee, and she jolts so visibly the entire table turns in her direction.

"Are you still with us, Ms. Ivenhart?" Jackson's question is sharp, his voice dipping dangerously on her name. Alouette had already guessed he holds no love for her after her little getaway with Harry, but her stomach dips uncomfortably nonetheless.

"All good, just got distracted for a moment." She looks down; Harry's hand is on her thigh, hidden from everyone else's gaze by the table. The green stone on his ring glints when his fingers move up and down the inside of her knee. Her gaze snaps up to him, and he's already looking at her, a silent question in his eyes. She shakes her head lightly and takes his hand. His fingers intertwine with hers for a moment, and then he's taking it back and fixing the knot of his tie. Alouette's hand feels cold, now.

"As I was saying, it could be convenient to dispatch some extra plain-clothes soldiers to Greenside to discover which topics the underground web is most interested in at the moment. We could find something interesting that way," Jackson continues, moving on.

"That would be a waste of resources, the Revolution is handling that in this very moment," Harry replies. "Instead, I want to crosscheck the electricity usage with the population residing in each district we know of. If there are more people using power than there should be, we'll know it's worth checking out."

Alouette and Jesse send each other a glance. "They could be using their own generator," she says. "I don't suppose it would come up that way..."

"Generators are not easy to come by, it's more likely that they're latching on to our system."

"We won't have any definitive location if they're stealing, though," Jackson interjects. "We've already seen it before..."

"We can chase the unpaid bills, then," Harry bites back. "They're a newer organisation, so I wouldn't assume they're already perfectly organised. If they're stealing, some apartments and buildings are going to have bills that vastly surpass their current power usage, and they might not be able to pay them."

"If there are a lot of blackouts in the same area, we might get a general idea of where they're hiding," Jackson finishes for him. "I see, now."

"Then we'll make an inventory of all the buildings that result abandoned in our records in that area and have them checked out by the Revolution," Harry goes on. "If a building that should be empty is factually occupied, it'll be worth keeping tabs on it."

Alouette's lips part. She has to admit there's something really scary in Harry's cold efficiency. It makes her feel proud of her organisation for having evaded him for so long.

"That would only work if they're together in a group like the Revolution," Jesse chimes in. "The population could be hiding them, though."

"The Revolution has already stated they'll take care of the street investigations, so the Palace will take care of the governmental side," Harry replies, "as per our deal."

"Do we really trust the Revolution to share their findings with us?" Jayden asks, earning a glare from both Alouette and Jesse. He raises his hands in defence. "Ok, sorry."

"We're lending them ten of our own on purpose." Jackson chuckles. "Got to make sure our hired hounds don't stray from the path."

Jesse glares at Jackson now, but Alouette knows him too well to do the same. The last thing she wants is to get on his bad side. Well, more on his bad side.

They keep talking for a while longer, deciding who in the Palace they should let in on their plans and who to leave out, and organising their plan so that it fits perfectly the discoveries the Revolution has already made.

Then, Harry stands up. "I'm afraid I have another meeting I mustn't miss in a few, so we'll have to continue this later. Mr. Jackson will escort you to a private dining room for lunch." He makes for the door, but stops when Jesse calls after him.

"Was it actually a sexual innuendo, though?!"

Jayden hides his face and leans back against his chair so heavily that he nearly falls off of it. Jackson glances between them, trying to figure out what's going on, and Alouette chokes on the glass of water she's sipping.

Harry gives him a withering look, and gets out of the meeting room without a word.

Alouette stands up and rushes after him. She falls in step next to him. "Ignore him, he's always like that," she tries, helpfully.

"I see dark days ahead, then."

She laughs—hoping he's kidding. "I'll be fine." She sends him a side-glance, biting her lower lip. He's been so busy lately that she's pushed back asking him something, hour after hour, day after day. Time is running out now, though, so she clears her throat. "By the way," she starts, "November will come soon."

Harry doesn't give a sign of knowing what she's getting at. "I'm aware of that." A couple of employees stop next to him, and he speeds up his pace. Alouette has to nearly run after him now, and her feet hurt in her high heels.

"My sister's birthday is in a week," she says just as they turn into his office, walking past Evie's desk.

Harry hums as he walks straight to his, rummaging through the folders to retrieve a specific one.

"I was wondering if I could... go..."

He puts a single folder aside and shoves all the others in the cabinet on the opposite side of the room. "I have a meeting now, we'll talk about this later."

Alouette blinks at the dismissal, but nods and turns away. She feels a little disappointed. It's a peculiar feeling—she hasn't felt disappointment towards Harry in quite a long time. She sighs, trying to let it go. He's just busy. He's busy because she made a mess when she pulled him away from the Palace, and now he has to fix it. She has to remind herself who he is—he has an entire country depending on him, a country on the verge of a civil war. Still, it doesn't soothe the stinging in her chest.

She crashes into something as she gets out of his office. No, not something—someone. A man with agreeable dark eyes and a cup of coffee in his hand, that threatens to spill on the floor. He steadies it and apologises quickly, before entering Harry's office and closing the door.

Alouette frowns. "Who was that?" she asks Evie, but she shrugs.

"One of the usual."

Alouette looks from Evie to the door, and then back to her. "I've never seen him before." She knows Evie can clearly hear what she's left unsaid. I've worked here for months, and I know he's not one of the usual.

Evie gives her a tight smile. "If you're so interested in the Palace's business maybe I should ask Harry to make you my assistant again, so that you'll take care of the paperwork."

Alouette rolls her eyes and leaves. She finds Jayden in the corridor, waiting for her.

"You took your time," he says—the tone of his voice is hard.

"I needed to ask Harry something," she explains.

He doesn't reply. He's walking a couple of steps in front of her, as if he can't handle being seen next to her, and Alouette sighs.

"I didn't want to use you," she says out loud. He stops immediately. "I was desperate."

He turns around fast. "You came in here," he snaps, "and acted like one of us, while all you wanted to do was kill him."

"I just did what I thought I had to. I didn't grow up in a fancy palace like you—"

"Don't assume you know what my life has been like."

Alouette takes a step forward. "I haven't only been raised in the Revolution. My father founded the Revolution. I am an Ivenhart. So yes, I came to the Palace to kill Harry. I thought it was my duty. But I didn't kill him." She raises her voice. "And I'm sorry I used you, I didn't know what else to do. My time was coming up, Harry was closing in on my friends, and I just had to do something. I just wanted to protect my own."

"By killing someone else?" Jayden jeers. He's never looked at her with so much distaste in his eyes.

"Isn't that the same thing you do?"

He flinches back. "You're to go to the north dining room. You know where it is." He leaves her in the middle of the corridor without another word.

Alouette runs her fingers through her hair angrily. "Fuck," she mutters under breath, earning a glance from a guard passing by.

When she gets to the dining room, Jesse is the only other person there. There should be someone standing guard at the door, but they've either grown bored of watching over them or don't consider them a danger anymore. Jesse sends her a questioning look, but she shakes her head.

"I just don't get him," she bites out, taking her seat. "I only did what I had to—doesn't everybody?"

Jesse cocks his head. "I guess now I know why Jayden is missing."

She glowers at him. "I'm not in the mood."

"Maybe he thought you were friends."

"We were." She takes a piece of bread and eats it slowly. "I think." She leans back on the chair with a heavy sigh. "Jayden hates me, Elijah barely wants to talk to me, Ezra acts like he can't trust me," she lists on the tips of her fingers. "Just how did I manage to piss off everyone?"

Jesse shrugs. "You found a way to be both on the Revolution's and Palace's side and on neither's at the same time. That's how."

Alouette observes him for a moment. "Do you hate me too?" she asks.

He studies her back. "I'm just seeing where this goes." He stabs a meatball with his fork and lifts it up for her to see. "I'm here for good food and a lot of fun, and while I don't know where someone stands on the fun deal, I've got to tell you these meatballs are amazing."

Alouette laughs. "Oh, we really are screwed."

Jesse chuckles, shaking his head. "What a way to treat the only one who's actually on your side!" He thinks about it for a moment. "Thinking about it, why am I even on your side? You shot me."

"Maybe you're a masochist."

He smirks. "Oh, that I already knew."

Alouette gasps. "I'll choke you with a meatball if you don't stop."

"Oh, please, tell me more."

She laughs so loudly that she has to hide her face in her hands. Jesse is ridiculous—but she's so glad he's here. She doesn't think she could do it alone.

After lunch and a break of about an hour, they're taken into Harry's office. The multitude of folders that had been on his desk is nowhere to be found, and three chairs are in front of it. Jayden, Alouette notices, is nowhere to be found.

Jackson arrives after a moment, and they resume their conversation from earlier, thinking of ways they could get to the rebels without harming the rest of the city—the country has already suffered too many losses, yet another city to rebuild would be troublesome. If Greenside went down, two of the three main economic centres of the country would be out of the game. They could never come back from that.

Harry is standing, a glass half-full of a clear liquid that likely isn't water in his hand. He nods along to what Jackson says, but he isn't as reactive to his suggestions as he was a couple of hours ago. He puts the glass down on the desk—his hand is trembling slightly. Alouette's gaze immediately focuses on him, Jackson but a voice in the background.

She frowns. Harry doesn't seem to be listening at all. His gaze is to the floor, and she instantaneously notices the difference between him pretending to ignore someone and him actually not paying attention. It's subtle, but it's right there, in his eyes.

"I'm not certain what the optimal route would be," Jackson is saying now. "They all come with their own risks. What would you suggest, sir?"

Harry blinks rapidly. "We should..." He lets out a hum. "It would..." his voice drifts away. He suddenly looks paler.

Alouette stands up quickly. "We should think about our options before continuing," she says fast. "Ask for the Revolution's input on the matter, too. Let's end the meeting here."

Jesse nods and stands up, and Jackson must have noticed something is wrong now as well, because he does the same.

Alouette accompanies them to the door. Harry discreetly leans against the desk, letting her take over for a moment. She sets up another meeting for the following day and makes sure they've left. She checks the corridor, ensuring they're alone, and then calls Evie in. She comes back in the room just in time to see Harry lowering himself to the floor.

Alouette's heart drops. "Harry?!"

•     •     •

THE REVOLUTION

Ezra is looking through papers in his office. A pair of glasses is on the desk next to him, but he doesn't touch them.

Elijah glares at him. "What do you mean, I can't go to Greenside?!"

Ezra shrugs. "Your team has lost Jesse to the Palace. It isn't safe to send you out in three."

"You have to be kidding me! I haven't done anything for you not to trust me—"

"It isn't that I don't trust you," Ezra interrupts him. "I care about you and I think you're showing great potential, so I'm making sure you don't get yourself killed uselessly. I need Ivenhart on my side, not against me."

"What does that have to do with me?!"

Ezra looks up, a smile on his face. "It has everything to do with you, you know that. Do you think I don't know you two come in pairs?" He frowns. "I've got to admit it's about time you start doing your own thing, though. Ivenhart is having a wonderful time with her President at the Palace. She doesn't need you."

"You don't know that."

"Oh, please, Elijah." He toys with the glasses. "Anyway, I already know why you're here. I'll let you go, if you agree not to get yourself killed."

"How the hell would I get myself killed at the—"

Ezra gives him a long look. "I'm not sure, but I think you'd find a way." He lifts a paper sheet. "Aren't you going to leave, now? You can see I'm busy."

Elijah's eyes narrow, but he leaves the office, slamming the door. He's going to go mad. Ever since Alouette left for the Palace, his team has been locked between the walls of the Revolution. For days, for weeks, he's had nothing to do but think about his last conversations with Alouette a thousand times over. He regrets arguing with her, but he doesn't regret feeling betrayed by her. He wishes they were still close, but just the mention of her name makes something inside him ache. She forgot them. She left months ago for the Palace and never came back. The President sunk his claws into her with a skill he's never seen anyone have—not even the earlier Styles. It makes him uncomfortable to see how easily that man manipulates the people around him. He does it so well that his reach is endless—he builds his paths with a thousand dominoes, long enough to cover the entire width of their country. Then, all he has to do is flipping the first one for it all to come crashing down.

And now, with a single word, he's had him kept inside the Revolution and has mutilated his team. It was low of him to take Jesse. He was the closest thing he had to a friend, after Alouette. But now the same man that during their first day of training came up to him, shook his hand and then asked him where the nearest toilets were because he was so stressed he was about to puke is far away, at the Palace. And he's stranded at the Revolution. Why is it that, despite the world around him being ever-changing, he never seems to move?

When Elijah gets to the dining hall, he finds Amina playing with a toast cut in the shape of a fish with a bean to mark the eye. Elodie is sitting in front of her, sipping a cup of coffee as she watches the makeshift fish fly though the air.

"Playing with food?" Elijah asks, sitting next to Elodie, but Amina shushes him.

"This is not food. Meet Mrs. Trout."

Elijah narrows his eyes. This has Jesse written all over it.

"I thank the heavens that friend of yours is not here at the moment," Elodie mutters to him. "I don't think I could handle cutting any more shapes into toast."

Knew it. "Remember to finish it later," Elijah tells Amina, and she gives him an absent nod, building a fort with the beans on her plate and the leftover pieces of toast.

Elodie gives him a little push with her elbow, getting his attention. He looks at her, and she lifts her chin, a passing action.

They stand up and move to the side of the room, away from unwanted attention, with a clear view of the table Amina is sitting at.

"What did Ezra want?"

Elijah shrugs. "Just to check on me, I think."

She hums, her arms crossed. She seems on edge. "That was all?" she presses on, and Elijah nods.

"Is there something wrong?"

Elodie shakes her head, but then seems to rethink it. "I don't know," she admits. "Things have been feeling... weird, lately."

Elijah frowns. At their table, Amina is scooping up the beans with the tail of the toast fish. "Weird?"

"Wrong," Elodie says. She's speaking so quietly he can barely hear her. "Like something's going to happen soon. Like things are already happening. Like some things might..."

"We're taking care of the Shade, he won't get to us."

His words don't soothe her. "I'm not talking about that."

"What is it, then?"

"I don't know." She shakes her head and turns to leave. "What a silent day it is, today." The air around them feels suspended for a moment.

"On the contrary, it's exceptionally loud," Elijah completes the greeting, quietly.

Elodie lets out a relieved sigh and walks back to the table. The conversation has put Elijah on edge, and he leaves the dining hall with quick steps.

Sometimes he wishes he could stop thinking.

Thank you so much for the 532k on this story! I hope you enjoyed this chapter x
Miki