The palace loomed above them like a towering nightmare as Iliana and Lykos exited the cart. Armored guard after armored guard lined their path. Whether they were there to protect her, protect the inhabitants from her, or just to ensure Iliana wasn't going to run, she had no idea. The sight chilled her to the core, however. The dread was only worsened by how many of them gave her a distinct, dark feeling.

Just as the instinctive sensation that Eumelia emanated reminded Iliana of gold, of Koun, a good portion of the guards felt black in aura. A color which Iliana vaguely remembered being associated with Kikin, the god of war, disease, and neutrality.

Kikin was also the god of demons.

The few guards who hadn't been stiff as a post before their approach snapped to attention as Lykos nudged the small of her back, pushing her to join him as he started forward. Whispers once again followed them, but this time she could find no source for the noise, as each of the men seemed stoic and motionless.

"He actually did it!"

"Holy fuck, I didn't think that was possible."

"It is him, after all. If anyone was going to get one, it was bound to be that guy. Shame he's collared. The commander would love to have him."

"Ugh, at this rate of success His Majesty will never sell him. I was so hoping. My husband let me set aside a fund, just in case. Ayo even threw in a few coins for my death-day. What a waste."

The final, unsubtle whisper came from the far left as they entered the covered walkway leading to the palace doors. The source seemed to be a sourfaced, yet delicate-looking noblewoman. She was accompanied by a less expensively dressed, yet still clearly noble brunette. The lace fan in the speaker's hand was laid dramatically against her sallow forehead. And, as they walked, her pitch black eyes followed their procession with a clear glint of greed.

The most startling detail about the first noble woman, however, was the thick, crimson hair that fell to her shoulders in perfectly styled waves. She wasn't Reotakian.

"Oh, come on, Rae," her companion urged, tugging on the woman's arm. "It is a shame, but let's not dawdle. We've caught a glimpse of the things as intended. If we waste anymore time your brother will complain. He wanted a word before he left, remember?"

"Nicki can just go bite a whore if he thinks he can summon me like a servant," the woman scoffed, dragging her arm from her friend.

Despite her words, she merely tossed Iliana and Lykos a last, pointed glower, before huffing and strolling off in a separate direction. Iliana looked to Lykos the moment the women had disappeared, but found no sign he had heard any of it, or if he had, that he cared. His face was a perfect example of the carefree, cocky smile she'd begun to associate with the mercenary.

In these circumstances, however, and given his recent mood, the expression felt hollow. She was reminded of the cold, biting anger that had dominated the depths of the nightmare Koun had shown her weeks before. Was that present, now, burning just below the surface of his smile?

How did he hide that? Iliana would've swung at the woman, had she been in his situation. She would've shouted about not being an object. About how she wasn't just someone to own.

Lykos' eyes flicked to hers as they paused outside the massive, ash doors that dominated the wall in front of them. There was the faintest, genuinely amused twitch of his lips as he studied her expression, and she pointedly dropped her scowl. It was impossible that he knew what she'd been thinking, but still, Iliana refused to show him any empathy she might've felt.

She hated him. Or, she tried to. He didn't deserve those feelings. At least, not where he could recognize them.

"In you go," he instructed, giving her another nudge.

The door had been opened while she'd been distracted. The deserted, stone hall that stretched before them was lit by low-quality magic stones.

Where Iliana was used to the wealthy owning pristine, expensive gems that shined like daylight, the jewels that shone out of these scones held obvious flaws, and were much more akin to a torch than the sun. Catching her curious stares, Lykos tipped his head towards one of them as they walked.

"They can't buy the proper thing here," he explained under his breath. "The gems are mined, and typically enchanted, in Cieon. Even if you go through unofficial, blackmarket channels, it's hard to find the best here in Reotak. Witches trained in the magic refuse to offer those to Zuher, despite his influence. And his punishments." Lykos chuckled. "Pisses him off to no end."

She took careful note of the fact he still used the emperor's name despite their location.

"And I'm sure you have absolutely no effect on that scarcity," she murmured back.

His answering amusement was there only for a second, before he dropped it for the faintest hint of warning in his expression. It was clear in the way his eyes focused on hers, then flicked to the few guards that had escorted them into the palace, and the slight tension behind his faux, relaxed smile.

Catching onto the idea that her words might've been too loose, Iliana turned her attention back to their surroundings. Unlike her dream of the palace, the walls were flawless, undecorated stone instead of wood panelling. The room they stood in stretched a good three, four dozen feet from the doors, and the only decorations in sight were a few chiseled pedestals displaying stone statues Iliana had no hope of recognizing.

She'd begun to wonder if the details of her dreams were false, when they exited the main entrance and turned to the left. The stone there shifted to solely outlining the vast, open hall. The space inbetween was filled with the familiar, dark ash of her memories. Every few dozen feet, a portrait of sometype had been secured to the paneling. Those and the running rug rolled along the length of the hall were the only decorations among the number of doors that began to appear along their path.

They walked in absolute silence for an impossible length of time. Mentally, she'd known how large the palace was, both from outside appearance and faint memories of her childhood lessons, but actually experiencing it was another thing entirely.

It seemed unreasonable that the throne room of her dreams was so far from the entrance--as what king expected their visitors to travel so far just to greet them--but she held little doubt that it was their ending destination. The attitude she'd seen Zuher display in her dreams was an obvious clue to his flare for the dramatics. She didn't think someone like that would be content to receive her anywhere but at the very heart of his power.

The twisting hallways and open squares they traversed in their walk began to meld in Iliana's mind, until she had no hope of retracing her steps to the entrance. Each step heightened the tension in her frame, and sent her heart further into overdrive, until she felt as if she might faint at any second.

Eventually, they stopped just outside tall, ash doors at the far side of a simple, flowerless courtyard, and Lykos drew in a slow, heavy breath. The building before them was seemingly detached from the others, and the very air around it seemed to be seeped in the pitch black of Kikin's power.

Her urge to flee had never been stronger.

"Hood down," Lykos told her.

She hesitated, fingers playing with the fabric of what felt like her final lifeline. A minute ticked by as a refusal rested on her tongue. But, eventually, she tugged it from her head. Pick your battles. She reminded herself. A hood isn't worth betraying your plans.

Then, the door opened, and they were in a small sitting space. A doorman stood a few feet in front of them, his tense shoulders and straight back reminding her of the soldiers lining the entrance. The guards that had accompanied them spread out around the room as Lykos nudged her towards the door.

"Ales," the stranger greeted.

It was only because they'd traveled together for so long, and her knowledge of how much he hated that name, that Iliana spotted the way his body seemed to grow tauter with that single address.

"He's expecting us?" Lykos questioned, and the doorman nodded.

"Eyes caught your approach to the city ages ago. His Majesty has been waiting."

"Then, by all means," Lykos replied, giving a vague gesture towards the door.

The man offered a shallow bow of his head, one you might give to a respected person of lower rank, and opened the doors.

"Ales of Zuher, and his gift," the man's voice boomed as they entered.

She scowled, and it took everything she had to stay silent. Eumelia's warning flashed through her mind, stilling the argument on her tongue. Not here. Not yet.

The room that stretched out before them was identical to what she remembered, down to the stitching on the tapestries that decorated the walls.

Even the man that awaited them remained the same. Which was as startling as the very distinct, black aura that emanated from where he sat.

Zuher, the emperor of Reotak, was a demon.

Somehow, that'd escaped her when she'd watched Lykos' nightmare. How, she had no idea. Because the idea that this man, the one grinning an unnerving smile in her direction, was a gods' child struck her as disaster personified.

The most powerful, mad tyrant their world had ever known was immortal.

So many puzzling details fell into place in that single second.

Despite how many enemies Zuher acquired, there were no stories of him ever facing danger at the hands of an assassin.

Many people called him mad not only because of his actions, but because there wasn't a single story of Zuher ever leaving his palace for more than a week at a time, let alone Reotak.

The rising number of demons in the country was whispered in every corner of the world. Any sane man of his ambition would refuse to allow a being so much stronger than them to flourish in their vicinity. But, Zuher never seemed to regulate Kikin's spawn.

Gods, even his age in the nightmare made so much more sense. She hadn't realized it, but there was no reason that a man of Zuher's history, a man who had once had a daughter old enough to be Iliana's mother, should look no older than his twenties. And since then, he hadn't aged a day.

His pitch black hair hung in a careless, shaggy ear-length style, and his eyes were the pitch-black marker of a demon. How had she not seen it? Even his clothing felt an echo of that memory, driving it home that all the details that sat before her had been hers to recognize for weeks now. His frock was the same, extravagant style, although the color had been switched to a deep crimson instead of black. His pants were a tight black that clung to his sprawled legs, his shoes a dark leather that looked to be finished with a hard heel.

"Ales," Zuher greeted, fingers drumming on the arm of his throne. "Bring my pet closer, will you? I want a clear picture of what you've brought me."

The hand that gripped her arm was warningly tight. It was a clear request that Iliana keep her mouth shut. It wasn't hard to listen--her temper had been dulled into a frozen numbness. Even his obvious disregard for her status as a person, someone who was not a prize, couldn't penetrate below the realization that the man in front of her was virtually impossible to kill.

As Lykos tugged her across the room, more and more details began to register in her mind.

His scarred tan skin tone was washed out. It had the paled color of someone who wasn't naturally pale, but hadn't seen enough sun to match his complexion. The frock coat he wore was of the finest material, and beneath it his shirt, as wrinkled and careless as it seemed to have been thrown on, also seemed to be the work of a master craftsman. The impression his entire appearance gave her was of someone who wanted to appear carefree and relaxed, but also had too much ego to form that image with anything less than the best.

The smile he wore clearly displayed four sharp fangs.

Mirroring her study of him, Zuher's eyes slowly skimmed Iliana from head to toe. When they stopped a few feet in front of the throne, he tutted and gave a beckoning gesture with his hand.

"Closer. You can't possibly think I'm content with that," he ordered.

The hand around her arm tightened, but a quick glance at Lykos' expression and the memory of the buried hate that rested on his shoulders gave her the impression it wasn't a warning for her this time. Rather, it felt like Lykos was reassuring himself. For all his bravery and cocksure attitude, this man in front of him terrified him no less than she'd experienced all those weeks before.

And yet, somehow, it never showed on his face. He simply gave a shallow bow of his head, that ever-present smile on his lips, before stepping forward. This time they paused with barely a foot between her and Zuher. The emperor studied her with clear bemusement, his eyes still slowly raking her from head to toe.

She couldn't help but wonder what was traveling through his mind in those seconds. What did Zuher see when he looked at her?

Did he see the fear thudding through her being? Or was he more focused on the thick, chestnut blonde hair that framed her dark olive face? Did he take pleasure in her forested green eyes, knowing it likely marked her as a siren?

"Hm, not quite the beauty of Sarai, but still a siren, I suppose," he concluded. "Come here."

He held a hand out, and Iliana could only stare at it. Her heart had stopped with those simple words.

Sarai?

Zuher had seen Sarai? How?

It registered, then, that she had no idea how the tale of Sarai ended.

Some part of her had simply assumed the siren had moved on. That she'd requested rebirth, and Inna had reluctantly granted it. But, if that were the case, even with Zuher's status as an immortal, he should have been ignorant of Sarai's true appearance as a siren. The stories she'd heard as a child, and what little she knew of the sirens, told her that Sarai should have never left the island.

Then there was the fact that the suspected siren that Iliana had seen in Lykos' dream had been pale and blond. Unless she'd completely changed her appearance upon becoming a siren, the slave couldn't have been Sarai. Gods, how many women had been dragged to this place before her? How many lives had been sacrificed to the fingers currently extended for her acceptance?

'A single life pales in comparison to the thousands that suffer at his hands. That's my answer. If sacrificing one person saves an empire, that life is worth it.'

Lykos' declaration flashed through her mind, and suddenly, she understood. She hated it. She refused to accept it. But, she understood.

As her thoughts twisted and turned, and she did nothing but stare at the hand before her, Zuher sighed. Then, with speed too fast to be seen, he leaned forward in his throne and seized the back of her hair. An undignified, pained yelp escaped her as he forced her to close the slim distance left between them, then released her. The smile that played across Zuher's satisfied face sent a chill down her spine.

"Better," he mused. "Much better."

Before the thought even crossed her mind, Iliana glowered. Hatred burned deep in her chest. Her scalp stung, and between the pain, and the emotion surging through her, she found her mind strangling her decision to stay quiet and calm. Zuher dropped his chin against his palm, elbow resting against the arm of his throne as he studied her once again.

"What is your name, pet?"

"Not goddamn pet, that's for sure," Iliana snapped.

The silence that followed felt heavy and taut, as if the wrong move could send her tumbling into death. Then, thankfully, Zuher's lips quirked, fingers drumming against his cheek.

"One would assume," he agreed. "Ales?"

"It's Iliana," the traitor answered.

"Iliana," Zuher echoed, those piercing eyes of his never shifting from her face. "Nice enough, I suppose. There won't be a need to change that."

"Introductions go two ways, demon fuck."

His fingers stilled, eyes drilling into hers. His smile hadn't fallen, but she shivered, desperately wishing she didn't have a runaway tongue. The rules she had been given were so simple. How had she already screwed them up?

With another swift movement, he'd placed his finger beneath her chin. She started to jerk back, but then he was on his feet, hand behind her head, holding her in place. His grip felt like iron, and suddenly she couldn't breath, the pain was so strong. The sound of movement behind her faintly registered in her ears, but she couldn't see it, couldn't focus on it. The only thing she knew was the ache.

It bloomed from her chin, and consumed her body like a wildfire. Heat that had no place in her veins dragged her strength away. Her knees shook, and within the second of his movement, the only thing holding her up were his hands.

It was pure willpower that kept her mouth shut. She wouldn't cry out. She wouldn't make a peep. Not for this man.

"Now, now," he murmured, gaze unwavering. "I know that training out the bad is part of ownership, but I would think that even someone as uncivilized as a siren would be capable of reading the air. You no doubt already know the answer to your question, but I'll indulge you nevertheless."

The pain fell away and she could breathe again. Her entire body shook with the effort it took to stay silent, and still. Gods how she wanted to swing at him. But the pain had been a lesson she'd quickly committed to heart. She might've been a siren, which meant part of her reason here was to show off a beautiful trophy, but that didn't mean she couldn't be harmed. She should've guessed as much.

There were always tortures that didn't scar the victim.

"My name is Zuher Pantazis, conqueror of Nubella, savior of Letia, and emperor of Reotak," his deadly smile slipped into smugness. "And, of course, owner of the greatest menagerie in the world. A collection of which you are lucky to be admitted."

He paused, as if to let those words sink in. And, they did. They settled in the pit of her stomach like a cursed stone, twisting her gut with fear.

She'd known. Of course she'd known. It was impossible not to guess why she'd been dragged across the country and tossed at the foot of the collector king's throne. But still, hearing it hurt, and broke something inside. The part of her that had still denied this, despite all the evidence, was shattered.

Iliana was to be regarded as an object. A prize. Something to be shown off on his arm until he grew bored. And then, she would die.

"Well, that is..." Suddenly his hands were gone. The swiftness of his withdrawal resulted in a harsh thud as she landed on her hands and knees. "If you can be properly disciplined."

He'd returned to his seat, and as she struggled to fill her burning lungs, Zuher tipped her chin up with his foot. The pleasure in his eyes sent a chill down her spine.

There wasn't a single doubt in Iliana's mind that he'd loved every bit of the last few seconds.

"I'm looking forward to seeing how this ends," he finished. "It's been awhile since someone gave me a new toy. I do hope I still remember how to fall just shy of breaking them."

She was saved from uttering the refusal threatening to fall from her tongue by the sound of a knock on the throne room door. Before a word was said, it swung open, and again the voice of the doorman rang out.

"Duke Rosi of Letia."

"Ah," Zuher murmured, dropping his foot. "Finally."

Iliana scrambled to her feet, uncaring if she was meant to remain on the floor. She would trade another punishment for dignity, even as terrifying as the idea was.

A glance behind her revealed a startlingly familiar red-head to be the newcomer. Much like Zuher, the man hadn't aged a day from his nineteen years.

His bright, rosy crimson hair hung in thick, faintly curled locks to just past his chin. Black eyes stared out from a too-pale, pink-toned face. The fabrics he wore were of a fine, foreign make, with a thick, black suit jacket that seemed out-of-place in the wastelands of Reotak. Ghosts of freckles dappled his skin. Even the faintest hints of muscle beneath his taut suit felt the same.

He hadn't spoken more than five words in the dream, but regardless, his appearance and name were burned into Iliana's memory. And obvious Lykos', as the mercenary's face had gone blank, his entire body taut as a wire.

Duke Nicolet Rosi was the demon who killed Aran's father.

"You summoned me, Your Majesty?" Nicolet greeted, offering a shallow bow.

"I did," Zuher confirmed, his eyes flicking back to Iliana. She resisted the urge to flinch at being the object of his scrutiny once again. "I thought you might enjoy meeting my newest pet before it's put away. Ah, if you'd like, you could even do the putting away. I was going to leave that to my dear Ales, but he suddenly seems a bit under the weather. Given how this one has been acting, perhaps it'd be for the best if you accompanied him."

Amusement was frank in Zuher's voice, and it lit a sudden fire within her. Gods, how mentally unbalanced did you have to be to enjoy this situation? What sort of memories had flashed into Lykos' mind at the sight of Nicolet? Was it fear, or anger, that burned beneath his frozen frame?

And how fucked up did she have to be to want to defend him, her kidnapper?

Iliana spun to face Zuher fully. With her jaw locked, chin-up, and shoulders back, she let herself be incredibly stupid. After all, the best way to make a bully forget about tormenting someone is to give them a new target.

"I said it before, and I'll say it again, I'm not your fucking pet. So you can just shove that title up your pompous--"

She didn't get to finish.

He moved before her mind even noticed his seat empty.

In one second, she was standing, defiant, and in the next she was on the ground. The violence was so sudden that it took her body a moment to catch up, to feel the pain rattling around her suddenly fuzzy, ringing head. He'd... hit her? Probably? Her face hurt. Fates it hurt. But the why, or even the how, refused to register in her thoughts.

The only thing that did click was that suddenly, someone was standing in-between them. Lykos, she realized. His back was all that blocked her from Zuher's eyes as she struggled to rebalance the world.

"Ales," Zuher warned.

"Forgive me, Master, but as you said, it has been time since you've owned a siren. I worry you might've forgotten how easy it is to break them. They're as fragile as humans. And, after waiting so long, I thought you might be upset if something happened within the day of her arrival."

The words felt off. Such a formal, emotionless, educated voice coming from Lykos' lips just didn't sit right. He talked like the common folk, with emotion and charm. Even if she knew that another him existed, it still rubbed her wrong.

Or maybe that was just the ringing in her head that was throwing her off. It was entirely possible. For the second time since entering the room, Iliana dragged herself off of the floor. The entire room seemed to shift with her, which was worrying. How hard did he have to hit for her head to spin this strongly?

There was silence. And then, as she summoned the courage to spy around Lykos' solid frame, Zuher sighed with a click of his tongue.

"Fine. Nicolet, fetch a guard. Have them escort my pet to the tower. First level will do."

She heard a murmur of understanding, and then the sound of movement behind them. She didn't dare turn around to check about Nicolet following the instructions. Studying Zuher's suddenly disinterested expression seemed much more important. His own eyes were focused on Lykos, as if staring at him was the key to unlocking a boring puzzle.

"You'll stay here, Ales. It's been far too long since we've caught up."

She had a feeling that whatever Zuher had in mind wouldn't be pleasant. And, despite how she cursed herself as the guard came to collect her and escort her from the room, she knew there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"As you wish." 

A/N: Finally, we meet Zuher in the flesh. Did the rumors live up to the man? Or, demon? 

How are you guys feeling about Lykos at this point? And Iliana? How about Nicolet? 

Honestly, I just wanna feel out your feelings on everyone, haha. 

This chapter is so long. I really thought about splitting it up again, but I didn't want to cut this off midway. It would've felt like nothing happened in the first part if I did that. 

See you next time!

P.S. Like the last release, this one was done as a reward! Only this time, it's a reward for you guys! I reached 400 followers~ And thought this was a good way to celebrate. The tentative beginning date for Mermaid Tear is currently marked as three weeks from today on October 6th. From then on, I will probably do updates every other week, with the exception of when something special happens. For example, SS has almost reached 200k reads, so you'll probably get an extra update when we reach that, and so on.