Cora was woken up the following morning by the sunlight peeking through the gossamer curtains. There were heavier silvery curtains on each side of the window made to keep unwanted light out, but she'd forgotten to pull them close the night before.

She opened her eyes and sighed, battling the instinct to close them again and pretend she was still sleeping for a while longer, but she suddenly remembered where she was.

Harry's home.

Now she surely wouldn't be able to fall asleep again. She'd been in his wagon, she'd also been in one of his hostel rooms, but this was different. It was his home, a place he'd owned for years, a place he'd created just for himself. It could be an open door to his soul, if only she knew where to look.

Cora stood up and went to the bathroom, fixing the golden mess that was her hair in the mirror and making sure she looked presentable before going back into the bedroom. She still had nothing new to wear and Dwyn had taken her travel clothes the night before, so she resorted to putting the clothes Harry had so kindly lent her the night before on again.

She neared the window and pushed the curtain aside, a mixture of relaxation and uneasiness finding its way into her chest when she looked at the trees that were on the other side of the glass. Judging from how distant the ground was, Cora realised she was on one of the upper floors of the residence.

Cora waited around the room as the sun slowly rose higher in the sky, not wanting to go out in fear of getting lost in the enormous maze that was the house, but she grew bored fairly quickly. After a few moments of insecurity, she finally decided to go out and familiarise herself with the building.

Under the light of day the house didn't look like an impossible maze anymore. Sure, it was full of stairs and rooms and half-floors in a continuous path that made little sense, but Cora had the startling sensation that every room and staircase in the building could bring to any other part of it, if only she'd be patient enough.

Now that the sun was up and sunlight was peeking through every window, Cora could see that the floor under her feet was made of marble and the mess of plants she'd seen the day before was instead little trees with odd fruits hanging from their fragile branches on the side of every room and corridor. There weren't many flowers that weren't roses, that she only came across to every once in a while. They were unfamiliar but reminded Cora of the flowers Harry himself liked to create, so they made her feel oddly at home.

The marble on the floors and staircases changed colour under her feet, and after an initial moment of confusion Cora realised it seemed to be a way to tell which area of the house she was on. The floor of her bedroom was black marble, the one in the entrance cream-brown marble and the one under her feet in that moment was light pink. She had the feeling she'd need weeks, not days, just to make sense of the way that peculiar building was built.

Somehow she made it down to the entrance of the house, and a little sigh left her lips when she saw that the lights she'd seen the night before weren't on—another reminder that Harry wasn't there.

"Oh, hi! I was starting to wonder where you were."

She turned around quickly. Dwyn was glancing down at her from the top of the stairs. She was no longer in a robe, but her hair was still pinned behind her head.

"The master left earlier this morning. He asked me to remind you that you can go everywhere in the house, aside from the blue room."

Cora furrowed her eyebrows. "What's the blue room?"

"His bedroom."

"Oh." Now that she knew entering the room was forbidden, the urge to do the opposite of what Harry wanted came strong to her. But he'd shared his own bed with her for months, and he deserved to get back his privacy.

"Breakfast will be ready in half an hour," Dwyn continued, before going down the stairs and turning into the arch opposite to the front door.

Cora followed her and found a sitting room she'd been too tired to notice the day before, with a small table on one side and a few couches around the fireplace on the other. There were some shelves, with little multi-coloured stones, large seashells and dried flowers.

"That's Eames's collection," a voice said at her back. She jumped, but then the dark-haired man from last night, Raven, appeared at her side, turning a rock so the shiny mineral inside caught the light. "He collected pieces from all over Andar the first time the Fair travelled. He keeps them here because it's safer."

Cora's gaze touched the objects with rekindled interest.

Raven noticed it, because he pointed at a large seashell. "That's from the Grey Sea. It fell onto the deck of the Scintilla during a storm, and Eames is convinced it brings good luck." Next, he grazed the shivery white petals of a dried flower. "This is an apple blossom from Idais. And that," he pointed at a few dried fruit balls next to it, "may look like red deer crap, but it's actually zyrma berries from Caloir."

The name was a pang to Cora's heart. So close to her home, yet so far away. She hadn't expected to find mention of it beyond the sea.

Dwyn called them from the dining room, and they had breakfast with the others around the large dining table.

After breakfast, Cora went back to exploring the house, discovering that the building was circular and the centre of its movement—the one she hadn't been able to see the night before—was a garden, enclosed between its walls and large enough to fit an enormous tree on one side and an area with no grass on the other, that Cora had the feeling Harry used to train.

She had lunch with the others in the living room and went back out. For the rest of the afternoon she familiarised herself with the ground floors—the ones with a cream-brown marble floor, she realised—and the garden.

The following day, she took her time to walk up every staircase she found and discovered the black marble floors betrayed the presence of bedrooms close by. She also came across the door with a blue square to Harry's bedroom, that wasn't far from her own, and forced herself to ignore the temptation to step inside.

Her every meal was in the dining room, and she got to know the people that lived in the house: Dwyn, Anya and Mae, the attendants, that took care of the building for the long months Harry wasn't home and of his business when he was; Emilia, that dealt with the kitchen, and Raven, who worked in the stables but could often be found aiding around the house. They were all fays, though Cora could only go as far as finding out Dwyn's ability was water and Emilia had none.

On the third day, she pretended out of boredom that the few plants of roses around the house would lead her somewhere and chased them for half an hour—only to be genuinely taken aback when they brought her to a library on the other side of the mansion.

Cora opened the door and walked inside, her mouth opening in surprise. The room wasn't particularly big, but there were bookshelves everywhere, and so many books she could smell their paper in the air. Suddenly, she was reminded of the secret library at the Lilac Sun—the memory now seemed to belong from a century ago, though it had only been a little over a month. On the right there was an armchair in front of a lit fireplace, and an ebony table was in the centre of the room, on top of a deep red carpet with a decoration of stylised cats running in dark yellow thread all around the hem. The windows were tall but thin, not letting much light inside.

Cora neared one of the bookshelves curiously. She'd never heard of most of the titles on it. She hadn't come across many books in her lifetime.

She took one that seemed promising and sat on the armchair, tracing the title on the cover with her finger before opening it. Her aunt had taught her how to read, but books were expensive and required a lot of time, so she'd never been a reader. She had some difficulty getting through the first few paragraphs, but then got lost in the book quickly enough, her eyes jumping from sentence to sentence.

It was a collection of stories about the War. She'd never known much about it—all she'd always been told was that the royal family and fays had gone to war and humans had won. After that, fays had disappeared, as if they'd never existed—or at least, that was the version the people from Beilyn had been told. Now she knew how untrue it was.

She kept reading about the mixture of years and names and battles and attacks, trying not to get lost in all the events.

The book didn't specify what had caused the war and who had attacked first, but it did say that at first the king had had the upper hand. Fays were powerful, but their magic was a gift, not a weapon. The king's soldiers had easily overpowered them.

But then, the tides of the battle had turned. Guided by two powerful generals, fays had taken back all the land they'd lost, and pushed the royal army into the south of the country, towards Idais. The generals were deeply respected, but not much was known about them.

One, apparently, could summon a wind so strong that it eradicated trees and blew houses to the ground. The other could manipulate water however he pleased—the book was full of tales of him creating water dragons and other monstrous creatures during battles. The two generals had worked side by side for two years during the war, but then something had happened.

The book didn't specify what it was, and Cora doubted the author knew it at all. All it said was that one day they'd both disappeared, and not long after the king had won the war.

She quickly skimmed through a couple of chapters to see if she could find any more information on the two mysterious fays that alone yet together had turned the fate of the war for some years. A new chapter revealed that they used to be quite close, and—

"Are you reading anything interesting?"

Cora jumped and slammed the book close, turning around fast and discovering that Harry was leaning on the back of the chair. "Harry?! When did you come back?"

"Just now." He walked past her and leaned against the ebony table. "I was told you were in here." He looked her over. "My shirt looks good on you. It's a shame I wasn't able to see you wearing it some days ago."

Cora blushed and looked away; she'd completely forgotten she'd chosen to put on his shirt on that day. She had her own now, but she liked how wearing it felt. She hadn't expected him to catch her, though. "You're back early," she said instead, trying to change topic.

"I passed through Evandra earlier. You'll be happy to know there are no wanted posters with your face hanging around."

Cora hadn't even thought about it, but she felt a little relieved all the same. "Did you find out anything else?" Ever since they'd been forced to abandon the Fair and escape, it'd been hard to find information on what was happening within the walls of the royal palace.

"King Soren is still looking for us," Harry told her. "He's young, but fierce. He won't let it go anytime soon. He's nothing like his predecessor."

Cora's throat clogged up in the instant she heard the name. Deep down she'd always known he'd killed the king to take his role, but hearing someone say it out loud made her feel sick. Soren was the king, now. He was hunting them down, and he knew her name and face. How long would it be before he got to her aunt, or her friends? Would he make her city pay for the things he himself had done?

"It'll be all right," Harry reassured her, mistaking her silence for simple fear.

"It's hard to believe it."

He looked away for a moment. "I should go, now," he said, "I'd like to see you tonight, though. Under the tree in the garden, before you go to sleep." He flashed her a smile and went out of the library.

Cora tried to focus on the book again, but ended up putting it on the table and leaving.

• • •

When Cora stepped foot in the garden, night had already descended around her. The warm lights coming from inside the house dimly enlightened the path that brought towards the large oak in the far corner, that was enveloped in darkness.

She wrapped her arms around her middle, teeth chattering. Realistically speaking, she knew she was safe—the garden was completely enclosed by the house—but she couldn't shake away her uneasiness at the sight of the moonless sky.

Cora reached the tree and looked around, frowning when she couldn't see Harry anywhere. Was he late, or had he decided not to come?

With one more step she was under the oak, the smell of winter and dry grass all around her. One by one, most of the lights at the windows were put out as the house got ready to settle down for the night. A cold wind blew through the garden and Cora hissed between her teeth, regretting not having brought a cloak outside. It was even darker now, clouds gathered in the sky. It would rain soon.

She looked down at her feet, counting the seconds to pass the time. There were no birds, no insects around. There was nobody but her and the starless night. She glanced back towards the entrance, hoping to see Harry walk out at any moment, but he didn't. She gulped down the odd sensation of having been played and a weight smothered her heart as she reprimanded herself in her mind.

He'd told her to never expect anything from him both in words and actions more than once, but she still was disappointed. Why was it so hard to come to terms with the fact that Harry didn't like her nearly enough to keep his promises? He'd brought her to his home and then abandoned her, why did she still foolishly hope he'd give her something?

She stayed a moment longer, but the night was getting colder and colder, and she was starting to get tired. She shook her head and finally took a step back towards the house.

"Going away so soon?"

Cora jolted and turned around, frowning when she couldn't see anyone. Had she imagined it?

A little chuckle broke through the air of the night. "I was hoping you'd stay here a while longer, with me."

Cora rounded the tree, trying to discover where he was hiding. As an afterthought she glanced up, only to find the all too familiar dark-haired man she'd been waiting for sitting on a branch well above her head, his back against the trunk. His white shirt made him look like a ghost as it gently blowed in the wind. His head was leaning against the bark, and his dark eyelashes were heavy as he glanced down at her like a fay prince come to take her away with him.

He was rolling something between his long fingers, and Cora didn't need to see it to know it was one of his roses—whether made of wood or gold, she couldn't tell. His arm was leaning on his propped up knee, and a phantom smile curved his lips. "Good evening, Cora."

Her breath hitched. "How long have you been there?"

"I saw you come outside," he replied calmly, swinging off the branch and softly landing on the grass in front of her with cat-like agility. He took a step towards her. "I should've come down sooner, but I got distracted watching you."

Cora glanced between him and the branch he'd been sitting on, noticing something on top of it. "Is that a book?"

Harry hummed, glancing up. "I do understand why you were so taken with that book. An interesting little tale, it is." His gaze was intense on her, as if he were trying to read some kind of truth in her eyes.

"There wasn't much to do while you were gone," Cora said, and she couldn't tell why she was apologetic—she hadn't done anything wrong, after all.

He seemed to sense the faint resentment in her voice. "I had things to take care of."

"So I've been told." She looked away from him, blinking when little flaming dots filled her vision and chased the darkness and cold away.

"Don't be disappointed in me, Cora," Harry breathed raising his hand, as if he wanted to touch her. He lowered it again and glanced away. Some of his fireflies dimmed.

"Where did you go?"

"In some places."

"Why?"

Harry's gaze darkened. "I'm not a good man," he said. "Don't ask me things I'd never dare to share with you. I don't want to lie to you."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

His heart-shaped lips curved up. "You shatter my soul when you look at me like that."

"Harry, what have you done?"

The fireflies moved faster, spinning around them like bees flee from a hive when it's destroyed. The warm light of Harry's fire kissed her skin in the dark night.

There was a pause of a heartbeat, and then he spoke. "Nothing. Nothing, of course."

Cora pursed her lips. She didn't trust him, not when he'd just begged her not to force him to lie to her. But it was Harry, and Harry didn't do bad things. Harry always offered everyone a safe space to stay, he always protected others. He'd thrown himself into the rough sea just to save her. Harry was good, she was sure of it. It was one of the few things she didn't doubt.

"Have you gone back home?" She hadn't expected that question to leave her lips until it did, and Harry immediately tensed. The fireflies stilled, and Cora feared they'd disappear and leave them surrounded by darkness again.

"This is my home."

"Your village, I meant."

"I'll never go back to that place," he dismissed her question. His small spheres of fire went back to floating around them like little lost hummingbirds.

"I understand."

"No, you don't." He paused when he heard the roughness in his own voice. "Not that it's a fault," he continued, "I'm glad you don't."

Cora sighed. Sometimes she wished Harry would actually tell her more about himself, about his past and his present, but she knew that sometimes it hurts to remember things out loud, and she didn't want to push him to do things he wasn't ready for nor wanted to do.

Maybe that was what Harry liked about her, she reasoned. She hardly pushed him, but she was always there waiting for him to turn her way. She knew that made her foolish and naïve, but even when she tried to keep her distance, it was always too easy for him to bring her walls down again. Maybe that was why Harry did whatever he pleased with her, why he didn't have issues with turning his back to her and disappearing; because he knew that when he was ready to look her way again, she'd be there. Like one of the beautiful silver roses she'd found inside her bedroom.

"Stop doing that."

Cora's gaze focused back on Harry. "Doing what?"

"I can see you're thinking," he replied. "Stop doing that to yourself."

"I wasn't thinking about you."

"I never said you were," Harry said, but he fixed her with a long look.

Cora's breath quickened. For an instant, she believed he could read her mind.

Harry smiled, and it was the first time that night that it looked genuine, real. His usually green eyes were dark and shining of the reflected light from his fireflies. "I missed you while I was gone," he said. "Call me a fool, but I couldn't stop thinking about you."

Cora's heart fluttered in her chest, but she tried her best not to let it show. It was a continuous push and pull with him, and she was tired of encouraging him to do things he would inevitably regret later.

He cleared his throat and looked away, probably realising he'd revealed a little too much.

He hadn't, really, because she'd missed him too. She'd thought about him as well, so many times. But she kept her mouth shut. He sighed, and the moment shattered.

"I'll be waiting for you in the garden tomorrow morning, before the sun is fully up in the sky," Harry told her. "If you make me wait, I'll come get you personally."

He walked away, but his fireflies only disappeared when he went inside the house.