Cora lifted the dagger, studying its sharp blade in the light. A few days before, she'd told Harry she could protect herself with it if it came to it—she'd gone as far as to point it against someone's throat—but it had been a lie. She couldn't use a dagger against someone else, even if it was just to protect herself. She wasn't that kind of person—she'd been raised to aid people, not hurt them. She'd never thought she'd find herself in a similar situation, but she held little control over the directions life threw her in now.

The tip of her finger rested on the point of the dagger, pressing down experimentally. She shouldn't have lied, but she'd wanted to prove so badly she could do something, that she wasn't just a useless weight the Fair had inexplicably taken on. It'd worked, but now she was regretting it, partly. She wasn't brave enough to use it. She wasn't scared enough.

"Are you planning to kill someone?"

Her thumb slipped and a drop of blood slid down her hand. She gasped and looked up—Aster was standing in front of her, body tilted towards her as if he were studying her blade. His white-blond hair was tied behind his head in a half ponytail, nearly matching the white of his cloak.

She sent him a sharp glare. "Maybe."

An amused look passed through his eyes. The slight yet constant irony he took on the world with put her on edge. She somehow ended up feeling like the butt of an unsaid joke every time she talked to him. "Like that?" There was half a laugh in his voice. His hand closed around hers quicker than she could expect. She stepped back, hitting the wagon behind her. He rolled his eyes. "Your grip is all wrong, you'll lose it in a moment in a fight." He moved her fingers around the grip. "There."

She pulled her hand away as soon as he let her go, nearly stabbing herself with the dagger. Even though she would've never admitted it, the weapon did feel steadier in her hand, now. Inexplicably, she found it incredibly annoying. "I don't need your help."

"But Harry's not here right now, is he?" Aster bit back. He blew away a strand of hair that had escaped his ponytail and kept getting in his eyes and nodded at the blade. "Really can't picture you using that, if you ask me."

His words stung, though Cora wasn't sure why. The realisation that he thought her helpless just like everyone else around them put her on edge. She didn't want to think that was all she amounted to. "I'm not asking you."

Aster flashed his teeth in a grin. "How short-tempered. Someone would think I've cursed the Mother right in front of you or something." He cocked his head. "Humans don't like that, do they?"

Cora put the dagger back in its sheath at her hip and crossed her arms. "I'm not discussing the Orders with you."

"Why not? It could be interesting."

"Not to me." It was a lie—but a well-spoken one. Just sharp enough for an outer observer to believe in it.

An unreadable look glinted through Aster's lilac eyes, too quick for her to even wonder at. "Well, what a shame. You seemed so lost I thought I'd help you, but if you want to deal with this on your own..."

Cora's head snapped to him. "What do you mean?"

His finger traced over the silver clasp of his white cloak. "What do I mean, indeed?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but a strong wind blew through the skirt of her grey dress abruptly, making it cling to her leg. She jolted and glanced around, and spotted Oden running towards them. He reached them in a matter of seconds, a bird on wings of wind, and nearly face-planted into the wagon next to them. He looked up at Aster and crossed his arms. "Harry doesn't like it when you talk to her."

Aster raised an eyebrow. "So he's sending you to do his bidding, now?"

Oden shook his head. "I came here because I wanted to."

Aster narrowed his eyes. "But he did ask you, didn't he?"

Oden's gaze fell to the side. "He needs you to prepare for tomorrow."

"So I was right."

"He said it'll be bad if you don't do your part since the king's coming." He frowned. "I think he's scared."

Aster threw his head back in a laugh; his silver earrings glinted in the muted sunlight. "Harry? Not a chance." Even after he settled again, his lips remained curved up in the appearance of a smile. "I'll entertain this, it sounds like it could be fun." He shot Cora a glance just before looking at the dagger's sheath half-hidden by her cloak. "In a fight, aim for the wrist. Disarm your attacker and run. It's your safest bet."

Cora crossed her arms over her chest. "What would you know about that?"

Enjoyment flashed on his face. "My only magical ability is a trick of the mind. You really think I don't use weapons to protect myself?" His attention shifted back to Oden. "He's at the Pavilion, right? Please say yes, I have no intention of walking all the way to the city centre." The boy nodded, and Aster walked away—not before turning back and saying, "We'll see what you'll do with that dagger of yours, Cora. I'm looking forward to it."

She sent him another glare, and he laughed again. His back was to her, but Oden's wind carried the teasing sound all the way to her ears.

She watched him leave until Oden pulled on her cloak, catching her attention. "Can we go to the river? Iris said she'd take me, but she's busy."

Cora pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders and glanced around, unsure of what to do. There weren't many people she could see—most were at the Fair, getting ready for the biggest performance of their life. She didn't want to annoy them with pointless questions—not when they undoubtedly already thought her useless. Besides, they were alone in the woods. It would be safe to leave for a while. "Let's go," she decided on a whim.

Oden cheered. "Who gets there first wins!" he announced, before dashing into the trees.

"Oden, wait!" Cora shouted, running after him.

The woods welcomed her in a sea of brown falling leaves. Branches tangled into her cloak as she squeezed past the crannies Oden had passed through, desperate to keep up with him. This was bad. If something happened to him because she wasn't there at his side, it would be her fault.

"Oden, please stop!" She heard the trickling of water far ahead, getting stronger with every step. Her shoulder hit a trunk and leaves fell into her hair, a deep-red crown on her golden head.

She spotted Oden a few feet in front of her. He wasn't running anymore. She slowed down.

"Is everything all right?" she asked in the instant she reached him. His eyes were wide open, staring into the trees, and he didn't let out a sound. Dread filled her. "Oden? What's wrong?"

He gave a brief shake of his head. "Someone's here," he whispered, so quietly she nearly missed it entirely. "Can you feel it?"

"Feel it?" As she spoke, a prickling sensation came to the top of her spine, so light she wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't brought her attention to it. It was only a brief tingling, the suspicion that something may be lurking beyond sight of a startled mind. It was enough. She put her hands on Oden's shoulders. "Go back to the Fair now," she instructed him, quickly and quietly. "I'll check it out."

"But—"

"No buts. Go."

He hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. "I'll call someone if you don't come back soon," he whispered before running back the way they'd come.

Cora waited until she could no longer see nor hear him, and then turned to face what lay ahead.

The river gurgled in its groove when she stepped through the line of trees, drowning out all sound. At a first glance, it seemed like no one was there but her, the water, and three tall oaks between them. Still, the instinctual sensation in her got stronger. There had to be something she wasn't noticing.

She rounded the trees slowly, and there it was: someone sitting on the ground with crossed legs. She knew, immediately, she had to go back and notify the Fair, but as she made to run away the mysterious figure turned their head, and recognition struck her. She bit on her lower lip, unsure of what to do. A cool winter breeze hissed through dark-blond hair and her cloak, and she dared to take a step forward. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

Soren didn't glance up at her nor flinch, like he'd known she was there even before she spoke. "I could ask you the same thing," he replied playfully, a half-smile on his face.

Cora sat on the ground next to him. "I was taking a walk."

"Then so was I."

Silence. A distant branch creaked, and a flock of birds lifted in the air chirping. "I didn't know you lived in Idais," she said after a moment.

"It's a big place to live in."

She laughed. "It's nice, though. I didn't know you were so serious about apples, too."

Soren leaned back on his palms, squinting at the silvery sun piercing through the canopy of the trees. "Of course I'm serious about apples. Everyone should be."

"Yes, apples are very serious business."

"Idais is famous for its outstanding apples, it's my duty as a citizen to make sure they're loved far and wide." He opened an eye and glanced at her. "Besides, you're one to talk. You bought so many."

The smile froze on Cora's face.

Soren pursed his lips, staring at her for one long moment. "You know, the Fair arrived a couple of days ago, like you." A pause. "I won't ask if you don't want me to."

"Yes," Cora let out.

"To which one?"

"Both."

Soren chuckled. "I won't tell. Your secret is safe with me."

Cora let out a deep breath, feeling the tension in her spine seep back towards the earth. "Thanks."

Soren lay back on the ground, folding an arm behind his head. "Did you like the apples?" Cora nodded her head, and he smiled. "I told you I knew what I was talking about. My grandpa's apples are lovely. They're one of the very few things about him that are."

Cora brought her knees to her chest, studying the shapes the mid-afternoon sunlight drew on his supine form. "You don't get along with him?"

Soren laughed, but there was no joy in his voice. "Getting along is such a fickle concept. We'll never see eye to eye. What is it with older people always thinking they know best?"

Cora shrugged. "Sometimes they do."

"And others they only pretend to, using their age to shut us down." He sighed. "I'm tired of being told what I should do. Aren't I old enough to make my own choices?"

His words struck deep inside Cora. Her aunt, always telling her which way to go, what direction to turn, while keeping a mountain of secrets that was getting heavier by the minute, all because she thought she knew better. And Cora let her, because that's what she's always done. She's spent too many years bowing her head to others.

Soren sat back up. "Just thinking about it angers me. I won't partake in this any longer."

"Why don't you tell him how you feel about it?" Cora asked, tilting her head.

"As if he'd listen." He frowned. "How did you come to be with the Fair?"

"Things happened, and here I am."

Soren smiled. The water kept trickling in the river by their side, spreading the scent of musk in the air. "Must be nice. The Fair, I mean."

"Do you like it?"

"It feels like magic," he said. "You know, the same magic that makes us fight with sticks pretending they're swords when we're children. It feels freeing—a taste of what the world used to be, before the War, when magic still roamed free."

Cora nodded. "Like a dream."

Soren snapped his fingers. "Exactly! Like a dream." He picked up a pebble and threw it in the river, watching it sink into the crystal-clear water. "I've heard the king will be attending soon, too. Are you worried?"

She turned a dying leaf over in her hand. "It's an honour."

"Will you be there too?"

"Maybe."

"And... what about the owner?"

Cora paused, the leaf folded in half between her fingers. "He always attends the shows in the Pavilion, didn't you know?"

Soren shrugged. "I wasn't sure. I've never been there before."

"Why?"

"Never had a good enough reason to." His gaze on Cora was so intense that she had to look away. They were a few feet apart, but it felt much less all of a sudden. She'd never spoken so honestly to a stranger before—if Soren could be called a stranger by now, at all. "You know," he started, pausing between words like he expected her to run away if he was too direct, "I did say I'd ask for your name if we met again, didn't I?"

She let go of the leaf and watched it fly to the ground in slow motions, carried by the breeze. "I'm Cora."

"Cora," he repeated, tasting the sound of it on his tongue. "It's a beautiful name."

She blushed and glanced away. The conversation had taken a turn she wasn't familiar with, and she felt awkward and uneasy, the same scared girl she'd been before she'd been forced to flee her town. "I should... I should go," she stumbled over words, standing up. "You should, too. It'll be getting dark soon."

"Does it scare you?"

She halted at the odd question. "I'm not sure," she replied honestly after a moment. "It used to, but now... I guess it feels a little magical, too. Like the Fair."

"Like the Fair," Soren murmured, and then offered her a smile. "I'll see you again, then? At the Fair?"

"Do you want to?"

"Curiously enough, I do."

"Then you might. The Fair is like that." A little magical, a little unpredictable. A little dangerous.

Soren beamed. "I'll look forward to it, then."