Cora woke up in the middle of the night.

At first she couldn't tell what had made her stir awake and stared at the ceiling above her head, hidden in the darkness, believing she'd awoken on her own.

She turned her head, frowning when she saw Harry's sleeping figure lying next to her.

He was only wearing a white shirt, that was hanging loosely and revealing part of his collarbone, and a pair of dark undergarments she'd only seen by mistake earlier that night. His hair was messy and lying on the pillow all around his head like a dark halo, revealing the pointed ends of his ears, on which little earrings were shining in the moonlight. The shadows in the caravan made his cheekbones seem more pronounced and his eyelashes even longer, and there was no denying he looked like a fay, now.

If in the light of day he was able to hide what he truly was with his behaviour, in the obscurity of the night it was painfully obvious that there wasn't much of human in him. His cherry lips were parted and the tension that usually was on his face was nowhere to be found, and Cora's cheeks reddened at seeing him look so vulnerable. He looked like she imagined the kings and princes and brave riders from the ballads she grew up listening to would look, and she was sure that if she'd kissed his mouth right then and there, it would've tasted of honey and sugar and those little strawberries from the woods like all those legends professed.

Even while he was sleeping she could feel his magic flickering around them, as lascivious as a cat but as effervescent as fresh bubbling water. She couldn't see it or feel it, but a part of her could perceive it slightly, notice it cocooning Harry like a protective parent. The warning alone would be enough to make every enemy change their mind about attacking him in that moment, even though he seemed so peaceful. Cora too knew that if someone had entered the wagon he would've had his blade at their throat before she could even blink.

How could someone look so vulnerable but so dangerous at the same time? When she compared herself to him, or even Thalia, she couldn't help but feel like there was some kind of mistake. She wasn't like them, she wasn't as strong as he was or as cunning as she was. She was just... there. There was nothing more to her. She didn't exude power like they did. Sometimes she wondered if it was some kind of mistake, because she didn't feel like she truly was one of them.

Cora shook her head, annoyance washing over her because of her own useless thoughts. She knew it was a well with no bottom—if she allowed herself to fall into it, she would never reach the end.

She dug her nails into her palms to refrain the sudden urge to brush his hair to discover if it truly was as soft as it seemed to be, disappointed by her own ridiculousness. She knew it was just her mind playing tricks, subjected to his magnetic quality—Harry was a fay, which meant he was attractive by nature, like those plants that show off their pretty colours and sweet sugars just to attract animals and kill them. It was nothing more than that, and it meant nothing.

"Cora."

Her heart skipped a beat and she looked up, staring into the shadowy moonlight inside of the wagon. She couldn't even hear herself breathe for an instant, having forced her body into the most complete stillness.

Who was calling to her in the dead of night?

"Cora."

She glanced at Harry. He was still asleep, just as relaxed as before, as if he hadn't heard anything at all. Was she slowly descending into madness?

"Cora!"

She stood up and put on her shoes without thinking. She gave one last look at the sleeping fay and exited the wagon as silently as possible, not wanting to wake him up. She wasn't sure she could ever explain it to him, or anyone, for the matter.

The air of the night hit her right away, the cold of early winter pricking her skin and making her regret not having taken her cloak. It was too risky to do it now, so she crossed her arms and put some distance between her and the wagons, hoping to hear the mysterious call again.

It was a foolish idea to go out at that time without telling someone, but something pulled her away from safety regardless.

"Cora."

"Who are you?" she whisper-shouted in the night, and for an instant the air around her trembled.

"Cora."

Cora frowned. It'd never called back so quickly, before. Had it heard her?

"Cora."

Her head snapped towards the line of the woods. They were there—whoever they were. They were waiting for her in the greenwood.

Cora stopped in front of it. It seemed deeper and more obscure than ever before. She started rethinking her decision. Going in alone wasn't a good idea. She looked back, towards the wagon, biting her lower lip. But how could she ask Harry to come with her? He would've thought she was going mad, and she couldn't allow that, not when she was already more trouble than she was worth.

"Cora."

She stepped into the woods.

The trees around her were dark and threatening, and she regretted her decision instantaneously. But she couldn't go back now, not when she'd already made so many steps forward. She was going to get to the bottom of that mystery, and she would do that on her own.

"Cora."

She turned her head to her right, in the direction of the mysterious voice.

She could hear it so much clearer now, not only perceive it. She could hear the somewhat high-pitched tone, scraping and rough. Who did it belong to?

"Cora."

She walked towards it, her gaze towed by the sound, never looking down and sometimes tripping over some fallen branches or roots. She caught her step every single time, not even stopping for an instant before continuing her chase through the woods.

"Cora."

She halted. A distant branch cracked, and she jolted, trying to find her sense of direction again. She could no longer tell where the sound was coming from.

She was in a circle of tall, old trees, that looked nothing like the oak forest where they'd stopped for the night. She was in the middle of the greenwood, and she was alone. She couldn't hear any sound around her that wasn't the creak of the wood or the whistle of the wind between the leaves. A low fog had taken to the musky ground she was standing on, and the air felt wet.

She should've been terrified, but she wasn't. Not as much as she should've been, at least.

"Where are you?" she dared to ask, and for the first few instants only the wind sent her question back to her in a never ending echo.

Then, a reply.

"Above you."

Cora's head snapped up, and she peered into the maze of branches over her head. Disappointment flashed over her when she couldn't see anyone. "Where?"

"You can see."

"I can't see you," she said in reply, annoyance in her voice, narrowing her eyes when she tried to pay more attention to the shadows above her head. "There's only a bird and—" Oh.

"Hello, Cora. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

She tilted her head, staring at the bird as it stared back at her with its beady eyes. What were the chances the animal had actually spoken?

Maybe she was going mad, after all.

It flew to a lower branch, and she followed it with her eyes as it lay on it and tucked its wings in again. The moonlight was shining over its ink black feathers, and the bird kept staring at her.

"I've been calling to you for a long time."

"Only for some days." She kept staring at the crow, not knowing if she should be scared or entranced.

"Much, much longer than that. You never paid attention to me, though."

"I'm sorry." She furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you want from me?"

The crow tilted its head, staring at her with those dark eyes. "I wanted to see you."

"See me?" She let out a chuckle. "Why would you want to see me?"

"Why wouldn't I? Many stories are going around about you."

"Stories? About me? What kind of stories?"

"Every kind."

Cora sent it a suspicious look. "You aren't making any sense. Is this a trap?"

The crow observed her for some instants before speaking again. "You have no idea," it stated. It sounded surprised, and Cora tensed up.

"What are you talking about?"

"Nature shivered when you were born, little fay. Can't you feel it weeping with every step you take?"

"I don't know what you're referring to."

"Blessed ignorance, isn't that right? She hid you well, I won't lie. It wasn't an easy task to find you."

She took a step back. Go back, a voice in her mind said. Go back and never look back. "Find me?"

"I am no enemy to you, don't you worry. As a matter of fact, I'm the only one that's on your side."

A question came out of her lips before she could stop it. "Is Harry not safe?"

The crow seemed to find amusement in her words. "The King of the Fair isn't a danger to you, but you are not safe with him. You aren't safe with anyone."

"Why's that?"

"They're looking for you."

A shiver ran down her spine. "Who's looking for me?"

"They all are, little fay."

"Who is they?" she insisted. She couldn't believe she was begging a bird for any kind of information. Was it even more damning to say that she wanted to know more? She had to know more. The bird was spewing idiocies, but in the off chance something it said stood true, she had to find out as much as she could.

"So many questions, who is they, who's looking for me, where are you... it is high time you grow into your name, little fay."

Cora stared at it in alarm as it spread its wings of night again. "Wait!"

It paused, and it stared at her.

"Who are you?"

"A friend," it replied, "I'll be looking forward to talking to you again."

"Don't go!"

It was too late. The crow flew away, leaving her with even more questions than she had before.

She brushed her hands over her arms in hopes of regaining back some of the warmth she'd lost while talking to the bird, frowning as she thought of the words it'd said to her.

Nature shivered when you were born, little fay.

What did it mean? Why would anyone talk about her, why would something as abstract as nature weep at her every step? Had the bird gone mad? Had she gone mad and imagined that entire meeting?

Would Harry believe her if she told him?

She wasn't sure she wanted to. Despite him wanting her to work for him, she was pretty sure he already thought she was useless—fay by name but human by fact, a girl that couldn't even defend herself from people that looked just like her. She didn't want to give him one more reason to believe she wasn't worth the trouble.

Cora looked around. The greenwood was eerily quiet around her. She'd never heard such a silence before. Wind suddenly blew through the branches above her head, and, slowly, the sounds of the forest rose again.

She turned around and walked back to the Fair, unable to shake away the feeling that there were eyes in every trunk spying her every move.

Maybe she really was going mad.

When she stepped back into the wagon, it was as dark and silent as she'd left it.

It was a shift in the air.

"Where did you go?" Harry had moved nimbly, like a cat in the night, and she hadn't even been able to register his shift in position. One second he was on the bed, the other he was standing next to her.

Cora tried not to seem surprised by his feline-like reflexes and looked at him, automatically taking a step back to put some distance between them.

If he'd seemed irresistible before, he surely was now, standing in the middle of the wagon. His cotton shirt was lying messily on top of him, and his brunette curls screamed that he'd just got out of bed. Even though the look in his eyes was cold, his gaze was intense, as if he could see every detail of her face in the darkness. He was covered in jewels, from the rings on his fingers to the necklace around his neck, to the small earrings piercing the tips his ears, that were more noticeable than usual because of how underdressed he was. His lips were parted and dark, looking impossibly soft in the moonlight, and Cora couldn't trust her own thoughts around him anymore.

The King of the Fair. She couldn't help but think it was a fitting title for the fay that was standing in front of her in that very moment.

"I needed some fresh air," she whispered.

For a moment, she wondered if his skin would be as silky as it seemed to be if she dared to brush her fingers down his exposed chest. Then she shook her head, shocked by the betrayal of her own thoughts.

What even was going on? She needed to get it together. Harry was dashing by nature and he'd always been, and nothing changed the fact that he was proud and demanding. He was the same man she'd got angry with a couple of days before for forcing her to agree to go to the dinner with Count Watillon with him, so what had even changed?

Some less layers of clothes and him looking like a magical creature in the light of the moon, maybe. Which was besides the point, considering he was, indeed, a magical creature.

"In the middle of the night?"

Cora could hear the sarcasm in his voice. Maybe she preferred him when he used to be mysterious around her. She didn't like the way he was now judging her and making it painfully obvious, too.

"Why not?" she answered tightly, forcing herself to walk past him and lie down on the mattress again. She could smell the forest on the pillow.

"It's dangerous at night. The next time you want to go out, take someone with you."

"Okay." Cora knew she wouldn't. He probably did too, but he didn't call the lie.

He ran his fingers through his hair, and for an instant the truth was on her tongue. Only for an instant, though.

"Many things roam the woods in hopes of getting a piece of reckless fays," Harry told her, lying down next to her. She could see the white moonlight hit his side profile. "Never underestimate the amount of people that would love to hurt you."

Cora blinked. She could never tell if the dangers he spoke of truly existed, or if he was just overly cautious. "Do you have many enemies?" she asked quietly, remembering the words of the crow. Why else would it be dangerous for her to be around him?

"I have nothing but enemies, Cora."

She hummed, staring at the ceiling. She could feel her skin tingle where their bodies came close to touching. She hated her mind for all the human thoughts it kept generating.

"Can I ask you something?" she whispered after some minutes of silence.

The reply came a long moment later, to the point that she feared he'd fallen asleep again and left her alone in the night.

"You may ask me anything you please, Cora, as long as your question has a valid reason to be answered."

She didn't let his answer deter her, even though she could sense his refusal even before asking her question. But she'd been curious way too long, and, maybe, she was hoping Harry would make the storm of thoughts in her mind calm down as well. His voice had an oddly calming quality to her. "What's it like overseas?"

He let out a long hum, and she feared he'd give her the answer she'd anticipated. "Overseas?" He then wondered out loud. "The forests are made of fire, every fay has wings and they never put their right foot on the ground—"

She stopped him before he could continue. "You're lying."

"Of course I am," he replied with a chuckle. "What answer did you expect from me? The lands overseas are just like this country. Corrupted to the bone and soulless in their persecution. Here everything is milder. There, they slaughter fays without a second thought. They wait for us to fall asleep and set our homes on fire. And the magic, it's explosive. You can feel it whisper in the air like a siren. It's like nature is in stall, eager to see which one of us will attack first. It's a war waiting to happen."

A shiver ran down Cora's spine at his words.

A war waiting to happen.

She didn't like the sound of it.

Harry's expression, on the other hand, was unchanged. He stared at the ceiling with an unreadable look on his face, which agitated her a bit. She wondered if it was a war he would take part in. She already knew the answer, and the crow did too.

"Are all humans bad, there?" she asked in a low murmur, an echo of the real question that was in her mind.

Why did you run away?

A question she was sure Harry would not answer.

"Those who aren't are killed," he told her, his voice faint. "There's no room for mercy overseas. And there's no room for friends of the fays."

Something told Cora that he wasn't talking about every land that was beyond the Grey Sea in that moment, but of a specific one. His home.

"Isn't it too risky to bring the Fair there, then?"

"We tend to avoid the worst areas. And as I once said, they're willing to forgive magic, in certain settings." He let out a sour laugh. "How ridiculous is it that they'll kill someone in their home for making the trees sing, and then go to a party and have someone read their future as entertainment?"

There was indeed irony in humanity.

"Are you scared?" she whispered, surprising herself too. She didn't even know where that question, that little confession, came from.

Harry turned to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed. "What?" It was clear that she wasn't the only one she'd surprised.

She thought of how she'd felt when they were surrounded by guards. Now, she was sure she couldn't enter a city without fearing someone would somehow know and be out to get her. She didn't even want to think about what it was like for Harry, or Thalia, or every other fay of the Fair.

"When you find yourself amongst humans. Are you scared?"

The answer came right away.

"No," he replied, "I'm seething."