The next day, Cora managed to get to the early afternoon without ever having to worry about meeting Harry. She would've never admitted it if anyone had asked, but being around him worried her now that she'd agreed to working for him. Who even knew what kind of odd things he would ask of her?

"I see you're done hiding away inside Thalia's wagon."

She turned around, her heart skipping a beat. She should've expected him to come around as soon as she got out, but she was still taken by surprise.

They'd paused for about an hour to have lunch and let the horses rest, and she'd been foolish enough to think she would be able to take a breath of fresh air without Harry noticing.

She was wrong.

Ever since she'd agreed to working for him the day before, he'd kept an unusually tight leash on her. She never knew much about him and rarely saw him, but it was no secret that he was somehow aware of every step and every breath she took.

"I was getting bored," Cora replied, giving him a shrug. "When are we getting to the next city?"

He leant on the side of the caravan next to her. If she hadn't been still intimidated by him, she would've debated kissing him again just for the way he looked on that day.

Kissing. She'd pushed that thought so far back into her mind that it freaked her out to remember she'd tasted his lips almost two weeks before. They'd both become incredibly skilled at pretending it'd never happened—but it had. Cora wished it hadn't.

Harry wasn't wearing his coat nor his cloak and went around only in his loose-fitting, cream white shirt with some ruffles on the front tucked into his high-waisted black trousers. Cora didn't know if it was the clothing choice or the colour, but it made him look like royalty. Some kind of fay royalty coming from the woods, but royalty nonetheless.

"We'll arrive in Caloir in four days."

"Lovely." She'd never travelled to other cities before—the simple realisation that she was now days of travel away from Beilyn terrified her to no end.

"Cora?" Harry called her, and she turned to look at him. "On the night we arrive we'll dine at Count Watillon's house. He invited us."

She gave him a suspicious look. "We?"

"Me," he specified, "but you'll come with me, too."

She frowned. Meeting aristocracy was miles away from what she wanted to do—especially considering she'd escaped Count Altair's prisons mere days before. "Why?"

"Because that's your job."

"I'm not sure I like this job. You can take someone else."

Harry sent her a severe glance. "Once again, it wasn't a question. You work for me now, hence you do what I say."

Cora crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you so demanding with everyone else too?"

She needed to draw some boundaries. She couldn't keep being that girl that did everything she was asked without complaining anymore. She'd done that for years, and it'd done nothing but put her in trouble. She needed to shove her head out of the water, before she ended up drowning.

He gave her a dashing smile. "I don't need to. But it's fine, because soon you too will understand how things work at the Fair."

She couldn't decide whether it was a veiled threat or a simple statement before he walked away.

She clenched her teeth and watched him leave, her nails digging into her palms. He was maddening, and she didn't even know how she'd found him so attractive before. He moved with the same certainty of someone that knows every secret of the world, and it might've been childish of her, but she couldn't help finding it unnerving, as if he shouldn't have been able to be so sure of himself while she felt so lost.

At the same time, though, it was that same thing that had made her actually do what he'd told her to again and again. His certainty was so absolute that she was starting to believe he already had a path traced down for her, and all she had to do was follow it.

"Trust me, he's the best thing that ever happened to you."

Thalia was standing not too far away from Cora. She didn't dare to ask her how much she'd heard of the conversation.

"I fail to see it," Cora muttered, and the enchantress let out a dry laugh, throwing an orange in her direction. She caught it just in time.

"You'll have to forgive him for being short. He has very specific ideas and doesn't like to waste time."

"I don't know what to think, anymore," she admitted, peeling the fruit under the other's attentive gaze.

"Most of us have grown up amongst violence. We're used to fighting and killing to stay alive, we learnt how to run away and disappear without leaving a trace a long time ago. We don't get to sit back and relax. We're constantly hunted, can't trust anyone." She tilted her head. "The next time you think he's too demanding, remember that. There's a lot depending on him."

Cora sighed. She'd forgotten that. She knew most of the fays that were at the Fair hadn't had easy lives, and something told her neither had Harry.

But she wasn't like him. She'd never had to run away until then, she'd never had to fight nor kill to save herself. She'd been brought up to believe that all she wanted was to lock herself up in a building for the rest of her life. They were opposites.

If he was fire, burning hot and unpredictable, she was like water: she took the shape of the container she was in. Being at the Fair, though, was as unsettling as being spilled on the floor— she didn't think she could ever get used to it.

Thalia shook her head and walked away, leaving her alone on the side of the wagon.

Cora put a piece of orange in her mouth, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the wood, listening to the cheery voices coming from the other side.

She still hadn't got around to socialising with the others at the Fair, and she wasn't even sure she wanted to in that moment. Harry and Thalia freaked her out enough, and she was still mad at Arnold for making Saiph run the day before. She also couldn't help but feel like Aster didn't want her there at all—no one seemed to, but Harry.

She didn't understand what he saw in her, why he insisted so much in having her by his side. After all, she was a nobody. He could've had anyone else working for him, and yet he'd wanted her. She couldn't understand why, but she wasn't even sure she wanted to know why, at that point.

"Cora."

Her eyes snapped open and she looked around, frowning when she realised nobody was around. Had she imagined it?

"Cora."

She stepped away from the wagon and spun around, but she was still alone. "Who's there?" she dared to ask out loud. She got no reply and shook her head.

Of course she was starting to go mad, now. She'd been accused of setting a house on fire and killing someone, had been saved by a mysterious fair owner and was now travelling with a bunch of magical beings. Going mad seemed the next logical step, at that point.

She rounded the caravan and joined the others, trying her best to ignore it.

• • •

That night, while everyone was having dinner, Cora stole an apple and sat on a rock close to the line of the woods, staring at the deep shadows between the trees with an attentive look on her face.

A part of her would've liked to tell someone about the mysterious voice she'd heard again and again, but she had the feeling she had to keep it a secret. As far as she knew, hearing voices was a pretty concerning sign even amongst fays—whatever it was that mystery entailed, she had to sort it out on her own.

"Weren't having fun having dinner with my people?"

She didn't need to turn around to recognise the deep voice as Harry's. She considered hitting him with a remark, maybe something concerning the fact that he hadn't been at dinner either, but then decided against it.

Harry sat on the rock next to her, and she side-glanced at him.

He was wearing his coat again, but his hat was nowhere to be found. Its midnight blue fabric looked black in the night. He brushed a hand through his dark hair, and Cora frowned when she saw something in the echoes of the glinting light of the fire.

"Oh, I'd never noticed," she murmured, and he turned to look at her with a puzzled look on his face.

"Noticed what?"

"Your ears are pointed." She touched the tip experimentally with a cold finger, fascinated by the way both sides met at an angle, earning a wince from him. "Not much, though. Just a bit."

"Enough for it to be a dead giveaway," he muttered, and Cora sensed anger hidden deep in his voice. Did he dislike them because they were an easy way to understand that he wasn't as human as he pretended to be?

"I guess so." She looked at it again and letting out a little chuckle. They made him look like some kind of woodland creature, the kind you'd find in legends and bedtime stories.

He sent her an odd glance, a little smile playing on his face when he took in her gleeful look. "What is it?"

She gave him a little shrug. "It's kind of cute."

A deep, faint laugh came out of his throat. "You act like you've never seen a pointed ear before."

"Well I haven't. Or at least, I have in illustrations only," she said, grazing his ear again. "I like them. For what's worth."

He shivered a bit at the unexpected touch again and Cora was pretty sure that if he'd been a cat he would've flattened his ears, but the look on his face was peaceful, as if he didn't dislike the contact itself, but simply wasn't used to it. "It's worth more than you think it is."

Cora watched him as he passed his fingers through his hair again, making sure it covered the angled tip of his ears. She found herself wondering if he made it a habit to keep it hidden with his brunette curls or his hat. For some reason, it made her sad, even though it was necessary. He wouldn't be able to walk in the middle of the street without creating a ruckus otherwise.

Sensing her gaze on him, Harry turned to look at her, giving her an unreadable look.

"Now I'm wondering if you have wings, too," Cora said to break the tension, and he let out a chuckle.

"No wings, no."

"What about a tail?"

"Fays don't have tails either, sorry to disappoint. What else?"

"Really long claws and sharp teeth with which you slaughter whoever enters the woods?"

A silvery laugh left his chest. "No fangs nor claws either. Magic or daggers work better, they make a clean kill."

She frowned. "Please never mention making clean kills again."

"I was kidding Cora," Harry replied honestly. "We aren't like humans."

She frowned.

"Humans are cruel, Cora. They bring destruction wherever they go. We aren't like that. We only kill when we're attacked."

The atmosphere around them grew tenser, and she looked away to escape the intensity of Harry's gaze.

"What about bows?" she asked quietly after some moments to thaw the ice that had fallen on them.

She could see a flash of hilarity in his eyes. "Not my favourite, I never miss a mark though."

Cora raised an eyebrow. "Do you use magic to cheat the arrow?"

"I absolutely do."

"Oh, Luces," she muttered, covering her face with her hands. Of course she'd chosen to put her safety in the hands of someone who wouldn't be able to use a bow if it wasn't for magic.

On the other hand, though, he didn't need it anyway. She'd seen what he was able to do, and it was terrifying. If Harry being careful with his magic entailed killing a dozen people in seconds, she didn't dare to think of the things he would've been able to do if he hadn't been scared of losing control. Suddenly it didn't seem so odd that so many fays were willing to bow to him in exchange for protection.

A thought suddenly came to her, and it must've showed on her face, because Harry sent her a curious look. "What is that thing you do?" she dared to ask. She'd told herself not to ask too much about magic, but she couldn't help it. "That thing where you push people away and knock them out. You did it some days ago and yesterday too."

Harry's lips curved in a little smile. "I knew you'd end up asking that," he said. "Do you know how to swim?"

Cora furrowed her eyebrows. "I do..." she conceded, not knowing where he was trying to go with that.

"When you swim, you move by pushing the water around you away. Air is everywhere, just like water. It's the same concept."

"So it's like a wave? But with air?" She couldn't tell if it suddenly made more sense, or even less than before. "I never noticed the air move, though."

Harry sent her a little look, resting his chin on his hand. "I isolated you from it."

"Oh." She pursed her lips when a second thought came to her. "But why didn't you do the same thing when we were attacked in the woods? Why did you kill them?"

He sighed. "You know I'm having some issues with magic," he shared. "Some things, like air, easily slip from my control. I was able to do it those two times because the number of people was low. If I'd tried doing it that one time, it could've destroyed everything around us."

Cora looked down. "So you turned to a type of magic you can control better..."

"I did."

And it was the destructive kind. She didn't dare to say it, but it still told her more than she would've preferred to know.

Some days before Harry had refused to tell her what usage of magic resonated more with him, was that why? Was it because his magic had always been destructive in one way or the other, and he didn't want to scare her away?

She couldn't help but think it sounded like the type of skill a creature that grew up being constantly hunted would prefer, and she felt a tug at her heartstrings.

Harry tried to stand up, but before he could she got a hold of his wrist. Her eyes widened as soon as she realised what she'd done.

"Where are you going?" she asked to cover it up, clearing her throat with a little cough.

"I'm going to practice a little," he replied honestly, taking her aback.

"You can do it here." She didn't even know why she'd suggested that. She knew it was dangerous, but at the same time...

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't."

Cora observed Harry's side profile as he stiffly sat next to her in silence. Her gaze drifted to his pointed ear again when the two earrings he was wearing caught the light. They were made of gold and very small, as if he wore them more to keep the holes open than for show. After all, the times in which he could wear pretty jewellery couldn't be many when he lived and worked so closely with humans.

"Harry?"

He glanced at her.

"Can you show me what I saw in the black tent? I know I loved it, but I can't remember it."

He let out a sigh. "I can't show you what you saw in the Pavilion, I don't have enough control for that."

Even if she already knew that, Cora was still a little disappointed.

"I can show you this, though. It's only a pale echo of the show, but..."

He opened his hand as he spoke, his palm facing the night sky, and Cora marvelled at the light he seemed to be holding in his palm. She watched as the flames went from red to orange to yellow, and then to an incandescent white with violet edges.

When they hit the last stage they were so hot she could feel their warmth from where she was sitting, and she wondered how Harry's skin wasn't burning.

All it took was a gentle movement of his fingers and a shape detached from the white fire, as bright as a star, and her mouth fell open when it took the shape of a butterfly, flying before their eyes for some moments before fading away into nothing.

The light dimmed.

"It's all I can do," Harry said apologetically, as if he hadn't done something of absolutely breathtaking. "The more energy I concentrate in the same spot, the harder it is to control it."

"But what about your fireflies?" Cora asked, and he gave her a smile.

The white light turned into the warm orange one of the fire, and seconds after it was flying away from his hand and into the midnight air around them in a dozen little slivers.

It was only then that she realised they'd never been fireflies. They were flying fire.

Harry closed his hand again, and they gave way to darkness again.

Cora exhaled, noticing only in that moment that she'd been holding her breath. "I don't think I'll ever understand this magic thing. It's like some kind of weird lesson I can't wrap my head around," she admitted.

"It isn't easy to understand if you aren't familiar with it. I must say you're a much better student than I'd expected you to be, though."

Cora let out a little laugh. As if he could ever teach her to use magic. She brushed back a strand of her hair and looked at Harry peacefully. "Do I really have to go to the dinner with you?"

"You do."

"Why, though?"

"Because you look like a human and have acted like a human throughout your entire life. The count's focus won't be on me as much in that way."

She hummed. "So you're bringing me with you to distract him?"

"Think you can do that?" Was that mischievousness in his voice?

"I could try," she conceded, earning a slight smile from him.

"I knew you had it in you."

Lux has a new cover! I hope you liked this chapter x
Miki