Alouette chases after Harry and grabs his wrist. He spins around, burning rage in his eyes, but she doesn't let go of him.

"Aren't we past this?" she asks. "You try to escape, I come after you, I bring you back. How many times do we have to do this still?"

A continuous, exhausting cycle with no way out. He can't stay by her side, but she can't let him go back home—not only for herself, but for the Revolution too. She doesn't even dare to think of the terrible things he'd do if he ever managed to break free of her. It'd be death and destruction for everyone involved.

Harry lets out a sour chuckle. "Are you tired of going in circles, Alouette?" He pulls her towards him by the hand that's still holding his arm. "Imagine how tired I must be. While you run around playing with me as if I were a doll, my country is falling in shambles. You are ruining everything I've worked for."

"If you being absent for a few days is enough to destroy this country, then you haven't done a good job at all!" She realises a second too late it's the worst thing she could've said.

His gaze darkens. "How dare you."

Alouette's eyes widen in shock. It's the first time she hears so much venom in his voice, and it sends a chill down her spine. She automatically takes a step back and hates herself for it, because now he knows he was able to scare her. Now he knows how to gain power over her.

"This isn't a game, and you are no doll." If it were indeed a game, it'd be the most important one of her life. But no, it isn't a game. It's a gamble, and if it goes wrong, she'll lose all she has.

She looks away and sighs. The stairs are dark, and they feel colder than they did when they first came in. The distant hum of the cars speeding down the street is the only thing breaking the suffocating silence between them. No other soul is in the building but them, and for an odd second, it feels kind of intimate. A conversation just between them, like a secret whispered in the dark.

"The truth is, I really don't want to kill you." They both know it, but it's another thing to hear it said out loud. It sounds truer. "But if you get back to the Palace, it'll be over for me. For all of us. You understand, don't you?" She wraps her fingers around the back of his neck and pulls him closer to whisper into his ear. "Don't make me do something I don't want to do, Harry." She takes a step back and doesn't miss the look Harry sends her way.

It's one of those gazes that make her feel naked and young, one of those lingering moments in which a bottomless pit seems to be between them. They are not the same. To him, she must seem like little more of a child playing a game she can't understand, while he's the leading champion. He has been for years, without anyone ever being able to register a win against him.

Until she came around. She might be new to it, she might be even naïve at times, but she is not a child. She's willing to show him what it means to go against her. She wants to close the gap between them. She wants him to realise she's a worthy opponent to him. She wants him to discover what losing tastes like.

Alouette pulls him back into the apartment and closes the door. "I believe you should hand over the knife, now," she tells him, grabbing the gun from the floor and sliding it back in its place at her waist.

Harry gives her a subtle glance, the same satisfaction of a lawyer finding a loophole in a contract in his eyes. "I believe I don't."

"I said I'd only let you keep it as long as you didn't try to escape."

The corners of his lips turn up. "Actually, you said you'd let me keep it as long as I didn't use it to escape," he specifies. "I didn't use the knife, but your gun."

"You—" He's right. She knows he's right, and she hates it.

"You wouldn't go back on your word, would you?" he insists, teasingly, arrogantly. He wants her to feel his win. "It wouldn't help me to trust you if you did, and we've established by now I could leave whenever."

But Alouette isn't about to give this one to him. "You're right," she gives in. "You could walk out of that door anytime you like. But—" A winning smile curves her lips. "This city is crawling with people from the Revolution. You'd likely cross paths with at least three just by getting to the end of the street. And they'd all be more than happy to shoot you. So, by all means, you're free to go if you don't care about your life." It's a measly win, but a win nonetheless.

Harry takes a step towards her, but this time she keeps him at an arm's length. He has already tricked her once, she won't let him trick her twice.

"What a nice speech you've just made, Alouette. The only issue is, you're about to hand me over to them." He grabs her arm and pulls her into his chest. "Do you even know what they'll do to me?" His hand lifts her chin. "If you're about to let them execute me, kill me yourself. I prefer it that way."

Alouette breaks free from his unexpectedly gentle hold, and he lets her go easily. "Nobody is going to kill you, Harry."

He lets out a bitter laugh, and she crosses her arms.

"Fine. Then how about we make a deal?"

"What kind of deal?" He's intrigued, but she knows he's trying not to let it show.

"What are you willing to give me for me to ensure your safety?" A tentative jab, just like trying the ice over a lake before stepping on it. Will it break and drown you, or will it hold your weight?

Harry's answer comes with overwhelming relief on her part. "What do you want?"

Alouette smiles. A carefully crafted plan starts to form inside her mind, detail after detail, step after step.

She nears him and pulls him towards her, murmuring her request in his ear. She can hear her own heart beat wildly in her ears. She knows, deep down, this is the most important bargain of her life.

She pulls away just in time to see Harry's lips curve into a devious little smirk.

"You've just got yourself a deal, my Lark."

Just like that, the first step clicks into place.

It's as if a weight has just been lifted off her shoulders. If he's the king of her chessboard, this deal has, instantly and unequivocally, just made her his queen.

Calm starts to settle into her heart. Nobody can stop her, now. She's free to do what she wants to do and follow that little desire that bubbled up into her chest when she realised what she truly had in her hands. But the road is long, and she knows better than to sing victory before the right moment comes.

It's afternoon, now. The sun is starting to complete its arch, and it's at the perfect height to come through the window, reflecting off the glass in a thousand shards of light. It reminds her of the Palace, where the large windows shone of the sunlight during the day and city light during the night. Oddly enough, she misses it. She only lived there for a few months, but now it somehow feels like a home away from home—a home she will never be allowed to come back to.

"I promised you a decent meal, didn't I?" she asks. She has to find a way to go out and get everything they need. Something to put in the fridge, new clothes for them to wear. But she has to do it alone, and before the night comes too. Everyone will be around then, and she won't be able to walk around without being recognised.

Harry doesn't answer, but he stares at her from the other side of the room. He sat on the couch while she was lost in her thoughts, and now he looks at her just like he used to when she came into his office to hand him papers.

"What about you stay in here and don't make a sound while I go out and get some food?" It's a risk, but it's one she has to take. She can't fight both for him and against him at the same time. "Or you can always get out and get killed of course, it's your choice."

He chuckles. "I have no interest in dying just yet, Lark."

Alouette gives him a smile, even though she knows he can see how fake it is from a mile away. "That's perfect, then. I will be back before dark."

Considering she trusts Harry but she doesn't, she walks around the apartment and makes sure every window is locked before walking out and locking the door as well. She'll have to hope he won't find a way to tear it down or attract attention. He's smart, though, and she knows he's already done the maths more than once. If he truly believed he'd be able to get back to the Palace in one piece, he wouldn't still be here. Her decision to take him to Pans is finally starting to pay off.

She exits the building and checks the street. She took Harry's coat on the way out, so she pulls up the hood and rushes away. She isn't foolish enough to get into the first supermarket she comes across, since she would be giving away her location if someone recognised her, and she steps into one a bit further away.

She buys some necessities and then is out again. The next stop is a shop, always in the same area. She gets some clothes for her and some for Harry and gets out just as fast, quick as a ghost not to attract any attention.

Alouette is about to go back to the apartment when she realises she promised Harry a decent meal—which is also the excuse she used to get out and convince him to stay inside. She bought some food, but she isn't good at cooking—or at least, certainly not good enough for his very high standards. She sighs. She knows it's a dangerous decision even before making it.

She walks around until she spots a takeout place. It's old and a bit run-down, but that only means it's perfect, because nobody will notice her there. She glances at the options on the menu and quickly disregards the burgers, because she knows Harry would likely throw them directly into the toilet and flush. In the end she ends up ordering a pizza. She's never seen him eat one before, but among the options available, it's the one that's closest to what he used to eat.

She pays in silence and takes the food, and then is off.

By the time she comes back it's nearing six in the evening, the sun is setting and her arms are hurting from having had to carry the weight of her new purchases all around the city.

"I'm back, you didn't set up a trap, did you?" Alouette asks as she steps into the apartment, because she's stuck in a city she isn't too familiar with with her murderous boss and president, and humour truly is the only way to go at this point. She isn't about to start crying just yet.

Harry gives her a very unimpressed look from where he's standing next to the window. He's still wearing the cream-coloured sweater she got him a couple of days ago, and she chuckles when she thinks he resembles a cat stuck inside an apartment. But she's quite sure cats don't stare out of the window while contemplating a way to kill their owner, or escape, or how to achieve world domination.

She gives Harry a suspicious look as she puts the bags down. Is world domination part of his to-do list before reaching the thirty years of age? He seemed to be quite content with how things were back in the Palace, but maybe she should ask. Just to know how screwed she'll be exactly if he manages to escape.

"I didn't know what you like, so I got this," she says, putting the pizza box on the kitchen table and opening it. "And a couple of beers, too."

Harry scrunches his nose when she puts the cans next to the food, and Alouette doesn't miss it.

"I thought you liked beer?" She pauses for a moment. "Oh, don't tell me you like your alcohol expensive, because if that's the case I really can't afford to keep you."

"I can think of a handful of reasons why you'd want me to drink alcoholic drinks, and none of them is good," Harry replies, leaning against the frame of the kitchen door. "And, for the record, I do like my alcohol expensive."

Alouette hums. "And that's why people should never grow up with too much money," she says quietly, but Harry doesn't miss the jab she sent his way.

"Maybe I just have better taste than you."

"Do you have better taste though, or can you just afford to spend more money?"

He smiles that insouciant smile of his. "You're getting braver with every passing day, aren't you?"

She shrugs. "I have the feeling you terribly need someone that will put you in your place, Harry. You get incredibly arrogant when you believe you have the upper hand."

His eyes widen. For a second, an emotion she's never seen on him flashes through them. It only lasts a moment, though. "And then I'm the arrogant one," he comments, but for some reason it feels like he's handing that one to her. This one is a win she doesn't want, though.

"It might not cost as much as a carat of gold, but it'll work just fine."

"A carat of gold?" There's a laugh in Harry's voice now. "If all my meals costed that much, the Palace would've declared bankruptcy a while ago."

"And here I thought you just had infinite riches," she teases him, "turns out you can only afford to spend one carat of gold on your meals from time to time."

"I could, potentially. But it'd be a waste of our gold reserve."

Alouette chuckles, and catches herself immediately. She clears her throat and focuses her attention on cutting a slice of the pizza in the centre of the table. She offers it to Harry. "Try it. It isn't worth one carat of gold, but you might like it anyway."

Harry takes the slice from her and bites down on it. "It's too oily," he says, covering his mouth with his hand. He eyes the napkin next to him, and for a terrifying moment Alouette fears he'll spit it into it. But, thankfully, he doesn't. She isn't sure she would've handled it well after risking so much to get it.

She takes a slice of her own and observes Harry as he seems to be deciding what to do with his own. Despite his negative comment, he ends up eating a couple more slices. When they finish eating, she puts away the leftovers and sits down again.

She plays with the sleeve of her shirt, going over their day in her mind in silence. There's something she's wanted to talk to him about since this morning, but she could never find the right words.

"Hey, Harry?" she starts tentatively, and he sends her a relatively harmless look. "About what happened in the bathroom... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come in like that. But you really made me think you'd jumped out of the window."

There's a moment of silence, and the look on his face makes her wonder if he'll say something about it. "I may be skilled at many things, but I still haven't mastered the art of flying, Lark," he says instead.

Alouette shrugs. "You're resourceful, Harry. You'd find a way."

He chuckles. "I can't disagree with that."

She hides her smile with her hand and stands up, looking around the room to come up with something new. It's still too early to go to sleep, and she doesn't know what to do. Harry and she aren't exactly on good terms, so the thought of spending an entire evening side by side makes her incredibly uneasy.

"I'm going to have a shower," she ends up saying, and goes in the bathroom without waiting for his reply.

• • •

When Alouette exits the bathroom a couple of hours have gone by.

Harry isn't in the kitchen anymore, and she brings herself not to look for him as she walks into her father's bedroom. He's surely in the apartment, and that's all that counts. He has nowhere else to go.

Her hair is still wet but she lies down on the bed regardless and stares at the ceiling when she thinks about tomorrow. Today was a quite relaxing day, but tomorrow will be the day the challenge starts. Tomorrow she'll find out if she's any good at this.

The apartment is completely silent, but it takes her hours to fall asleep.

She wakes up hours later to the sunlight blinking on her face. She sighs and rolls out of bed, changing her clothes and walking into the kitchen just to discover that the week or so of barely sleeping has finally caught up to her, and it's a little after midday.

Harry has resumed his spot in front of the living room window. He's wearing the exact same clothes of the day before, and his hair doesn't look unkempt. Has he gone to bed at all, or has he spent the entire night next to that window? Maybe she should get him some books to read—even though she highly doubts he's much of a reader.

"Have you slept at all?" she asks him as she grabs one of the leftover apples.

He looks at her over his shoulder. "Relatively," he replies.

She sighs and leans against the table. Even in the Palace, he always seemed to be awake at the oddest times. He was usually awake when she went to sleep, and she'd hardly seen him sleeping—the only times being the few nights he spent in her bedroom.

It feels like it happened a century ago, now. Only two weeks ago, they were sharing kisses in the dark corners of the Palace and talking to each other into their pillows until they fell asleep. Now, though, the simple thought of doing that seems preposterous. Weirdly enough, it saddens her.

"I'm going out today," Alouette says when she finishes eating the apple. "It shouldn't take more than a couple of hours."

Harry doesn't say a word, the tilt of his head in her direction is enough to let her know he heard her.

"Stay inside," she says, nearing the front door. "I'll be back soon."

She goes out and locks the door.

Today, the trip around the city brings her in a completely different direction. Even though she saw many plans and maps of Pans in her father's study when she was younger, it's been a very long time since she stepped foot into the city herself, so it takes longer than it should to find the way.

It takes her an entire hour just to find the office.

It's in an old building, and the symbol of the Revolution is etched on the wooden door. It's small enough to be missed by most, nothing more than a scratch on a run-down surface.

She smiles to herself and walks in through the door.

A secretary behind a desk glances up and gives her a bored look. "Are you here to talk to the lawyer?" he asks tiredly. "He has an appointment right now, but you can stay here and wait for him to finish."

Alouette approaches the desk and gives the man a friendly smile to hide her own nervousness. "What a quiet day it is today," she comments. She waits, tension in her muscles. She hopes she's right, because if she isn't, then her entire plan will fall apart.

The secretary freezes. "On the contrary, I'd call it the loudest of my life," he then says, and the atmosphere in the room changes. "What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to have a meeting with the representatives of the Revolution in Pans," she replies.

The man laughs. "Sure, keep dreaming. They don't meet with lower ranks."

Alouette puts her hands on the desk and leans in. She lowers her voice. "I said, I want to talk to the representatives. You can put me in contact with them, or I'll find them myself. Not sure which one is more convenient for you."

The man stands up, an outraged look on his face. "Who do you think you are?!"

This time her smile is cold, dangerous. A weapon she learnt from the best. "I'm Alouette Ivenhart, and you?"

Sorry for the wait! If you enjoyed this chapter, don't forget to vote/comment x
Miki