'Don't raise your head unless told otherwise.'

Keeping Eumelia's warning in mind, Iliana kept her head ducked as she stayed in the curtsy. Minutes past, extending beyond proper etiquette. Her muscles burned. Still, she stayed proper.

Eventually, Zuher laughed. "Seems my pet has learned a new trick. Rise."

The first thing she saw when she raised her head was the smirk he wore. It took everything she had not to sneer in response.

'Don't speak unless asked.'

She busied herself with the details. It was the only thing that held her tongue while Zuher studied her bemusedly.

His check rested against his palm, fingers curled against the skin just below his eye. He wore different, but similar clothing to the last time they met, confirming her guess that more than a day had passed. Well, that was assuming he wore the same thing all day.

There was no food on the table, leaving him plenty of room to spread his other arm over the wooden surface. His nails tapped a soft pattern that felt like drums in the silence.

"Shame. I was looking forward to what you might say. Had the whole evening planned and everything," he mused after several extended minutes. She mentally shuddered as possibilities for what could have happened flooded her mind. "Come here."

Reluctance slowed her steps as she forced herself forward. His gaze felt sharp as any blade, watching her unblinkingly as she approached until there was but a few inches between her and the edge of the table.

"I was wrong, before," he mused aloud. "You rival Sarai when clean. I didn't say stop. Come here."

He meant for her to come around the table. Iliana's every instinct screamed at her not to put herself within arms' length of that demon. But, she shoved it down. At this moment, survival meant ignoring herself, something she was thankfully good at doing. She felt eyes on her from all directions as she turned, and slowly followed his order.

Her path took her past the red-haired noblewoman. Who, at this distance, she realized was nearly identical to Nicolet. Either they were twins, or eerily similar siblings. Regardless, it suddenly made sense why he'd been so annoyed with her earlier. She'd shoved Iliana at the entrance to the hall--it would've been dangerous if Zuher had taken offense.

When she reached Zuher, she paused just out of arms' reach. He clicked his tongue, but didn't urge her forward this time. Instead, he opted for leaning away from the table so he could seize her arm with a bruising grip. She bit back a wince, and the urge to pull away, as he jerked her the last foot forward.

"You'll attend me for meals," he announced aloud.

"Don't you have servants for that?" she asked before the thought had fully formed.

Thankfully, he didn't seem insulted. Instead, he released her arm and leaned back in his chair once more. His arms settled along the sides of his throne.

"Of course I've serving slaves," he replied, amused. "But, what point is there in using them, when I could have a siren? Plus, it means dessert is only a step away."

She shuddered as his words sunk into her heart, nearly stopping it with fear. Gods, he truly meant to use her as a living blood bag. She'd known it, of course she'd known it, but hearing it aloud was nearly enough to loosen her tongue, binding or no binding.

"Oh."

He laughed, a toothy smile on his lips. "Oh, she says. Where did that sharp tongue go, I wonder? Lost in the dark? Did you dull it on the companion I sent you? I picked him out carefully, you know. I decided my pet deserved nothing but the best beauty and wit to keep her sane."

Companion? she wondered, then remembered the voice she'd heard before the guards had pulled her out for the bath. Had that stranger been who he was talking about?

"I, we didn't talk," she answered honestly.

Zuher made a thoughtful noise, before motioning off to the side with a beckoning gesture, before holding his hand up as if holding a glass. His eyes refocused on her within the second.

"I see. Perhaps he had too much attention before being gifted," the emperor mused. "I'll have my witch pay a visit. I wouldn't want you growing bored when I'm busy."

His words sunk into her like a punch to the gut.

Gods, he meant to send her back there. She slid her hands over the skirt of her dress, so she could subtly tuck them behind her. Safely hidden, her fingers tightened into fists to conceal the trembling that threatened to take her whole body. I'm not scared, she reminded herself. I can do this.

The dark doesn't scare me.

"I...see," Iliana replied when a silence stretched, implying he meant for her to say something.

She was saved from having to think of something eloquent by a servant arriving. They held a crystal goblet embedded with the richest of jewels. It took effort not to curl her lip at the sight. It was pure materialism. Something like that wasn't practical, it wouldn't feel nice to the touch, and it had to be unpleasant to hold for minutes, or hours on end depending on the event.

But it looked fancy, and that was that.

There was a hint of something metallic to the air, and her stomach threatened to revolt as Zuher took a delicate sip of the crimson drink. She pulled a hand from her back, pressing her curled knuckles to her mouth as bile stung her throat.

Zuher smirked.

"Come now," he said, voice light and chalk full of amusement. "Don't tell me you've a weak stomach, Pet. You won't be able to survive at court like that." He tipped his glass towards his lips again, then paused, something wicked sparking in his eyes. "Ah, perhaps it's just that you don't understand the splendor. Should I let you try it?"

Oh gods. She was going to be sick.

He couldn't be serious. "Fu--"

"Your Majesty."

Her attention was caught by the barest hint of chiding in the calm voice that interrupted her slowly bubbling panic. The soft baritone was vaguely familiar, and a quick glance past Zuher made her realize why. It was the man of Lykos' nightmares.

"If I may," Ayo continued. Zuher cocked a brow, but waved a hand in permission. With the other, he took another sip of his goblet. "Everyone was enjoying a pleasant meal with their choice partners prior to this. If the siren gets sick, it would spoil the mood, and the scent of the hall."

Zuher swirled his glass, then deferred to the words with a shallow incline of his drink towards Ayo. "You make a fair point, friend. Another time, perhaps."

She could breathe again. She wasn't sure when she'd stopped, but the words brought a rush of fresh, metallic air into her lungs. Zuher spared her a glance, perhaps noting her relief, but then looked back to Ayo without commenting on it.

"Oh dear, I've forgotten my manners," he said instead. "Ayo, this is my pet, Iliana. Iliana, this would be Ayo, my general of tactics."

Ayo sighed, shoving the bridge of his glasses further up his nose. "Former General, Your Majesty."

Zuher clicked his tongue and lowered his glass to the table with a roll of his eyes. "Yes, yes, so you say. But, everyone in court knows what'll happen when the time comes to shed those bastards of their land. You'll be the first in line, blade drawn."

"I'm too old for the task," Ayo replied, despite looking late twenties at the latest. "My son would do a better job, right dear?"

He glanced past Zuher, directing the question towards the red-headed woman. At some point, she'd acquired her own glass, but had dismissed it in favor of running her sharply nailed fingers along the arm of the servant. The human's brow was drawn tight in pain, but somehow, they remained standing.

"Hm?" she hummed, tugging her hand away from the servant. "What did you say, father?"

"Don't play with your food, Rae, it's unbecoming," Ayo chastised. "I said, guiding the upcoming war is a job best left for the younger knights. Like your husband."

A sneer curled the woman's lip as she dismissed the servant with a wave of her hand. They stumbled away with a gait so weak Iliana was tempted to step in to help. But that would've drawn unwanted attention, so she held her ground with the easiness of a churning storm.

"I don't know why you'd ask me about that," she scoffed. "Nicki knows Ade better than me these days."

"Don't be a brat," Nicolet retorted, voice sharp.

"Bite a whore."

"Sloppy seconds don't interest me, sister dearest," the duke replied as he, too, was offered a glass. He tipped it in his sister's direction with the same grace one might use when commending a compliment. "Especially when they're yours."

Zuher interrupted with a sharp laugh, his eyes gleaming. Iliana took all this in with careful notice. Back home, any true Aeolian noble would've been scandelized with such obvious family drama being aired for the public. Here, however, the emperor himself seemed to be enjoying the barbed words. It truly was a different world.

"Rae Zavitika," Zuher introduced, voice rich with amusement. "You must already see why I keep her around. She's such a treat."

Nicolet's fingers clenched tightly around his glass, but he voiced no disagreement. Ayo simply shook his head.

"As for these other two," Zuher continued. He gestured towards the man to his other side, a noble who had been obviously eavesdropping on the conversation, but had never raised their head from a scroll tucked between them and the table. Did that count as proper here? "My head of trade, Iman. Dull as he sounds."

Somehow, the man didn't seem to take offense at the words. He simply mumbled a greeting, not even bothering to raise his head.

"And the other is Kofi, head of unimportant things."

"Diplomacy," the man corrected, a grimace on his lips.

Zuher waved his hand, as if to say 'there you have it.' Instead of saying anything else on his surprisingly useful introductions, he turned his gaze past Iliana, then back to her, calculation in his eyes.

"Ah, I suppose you should also dine," he mused. "There seems to have been something prepared, at least. And I wouldn't want you collapsing before dessert."

He tapped the side of his thigh. "Sit, and they'll serve you."

Her mind stuttered to a halt. Sit?

Two different, possible interpretations of his instruction flashed through her mind. One, he meant for her to sit at his feet like the pet he kept referring to her as. It called for surrender of pride she wasn't sure she could manage. The very thought made her stomach drop. If she followed through, it felt like she'd be handing over a piece of herself to the tyrant.

The second option was worse, though, and she barely let her mind linger on it. He couldn't possibly be telling her to sit on his lap to be served. Anger sent a shiver down her spine, and seized her tongue with barely bridled vengeance.

"Sit?" she managed. Somehow, her tone almost resembled something polite. Albeit, it was more akin to a strangled growl.

Zuher tapped the side of his thigh again, a single finger pointing at the floor. "Yes, sit. You can't expect me to ask Iman to move for a slave, now can you?"

"I'm not a slave."

The denial was through her lips without a single thought. And, she didn't regret it. Feared it? Certainly. Acknowledged it as stupid? Absolutely.

But there was no regret.

"Oh?" Zuher questioned, voice light. There was a new edge to his gaze, something dangerous, but still amused. As if this were all a joke only he was privy to. "Then, prey tell, what are you, Pet?"

Silence took the room. The number of eyes focused on her in that moment felt akin to a practiced play where Iliana had become the sole improvised actress. Everyone in the room knew what answer she should give, and they were eager to hear anything but. Her heart roared in her ears as her mind spun.

What was she?

Her tongue felt heavy. The question weighted it down with answers that failed to truly match the significance of his light retort.

"I'm--"

Human?

Not anymore.

A siren? She hadn't been one long enough, experienced enough of what it meant for the title to mean anything.

Free? Obviously not.

"--a person," she finished, faux confidence pushing her shoulders back. Her entire being trembled, defiance pushing her to meet his gaze. Somehow, she held back the urge, instead focusing on his smug smile. "I am a person. Not a belonging, or a slave, but a person."

For a moment, all was still. Then, in the blink of a second, his hand curled around the side of her head. She hadn't even noticed him moving, but there he was, standing in front of her.

Iliana didn't breathe as his fingers dug into her hair, that same, dark amusement playing in his fathomless black eyes. His thumb laid across the base of her neck, where hair met bare skin. The anticipated pain didn't come, instead his palm simply slipped down, pulling strands loose with it until his fingers were curled around the base of her neck in a loose, yet iron grip.

"A person," he echoed.

She shuddered.

All the right emotions were in his voice. Amusement, annoyance, curiosity. But there was a dullness to the words as well. As if his mind were elsewhere, seeing something only his eyes could witness.

Her life felt as if it were hanging on a string, but for once, her tongue laid still. Some unknown instinct said that if she opened her mouth, she would be digging her own grave.

"Funny."

Zuher dragged her head closer, placing it within a few inches of his own. Then, he smiled.

"I own this room. I own this palace, and this city. This empire is mine. This world is mine."

His fingers grew bruising, thumb digging painfully into her skin. She bit back a wince, still not willing to move a muscle in the chance he saw it as defiance.

He raised his free hand beyond her line of sight, his gaze never shifting away from her. The drop of a feather would've echoed through the hall.

"But, perhaps that is too much of a lesson for today."

His free hand suddenly touched her shoulder, before slipping down her arm. Goosebumps raised on her skin, and bile in her throat. Gods, how she wanted to run. Scream. Anything.

But, she valued her life more than the disgust his touch raised.

His fingers caught her wrist, and he raised her hand to his lips. Fear broke her stillness as teeth grazed the inside of her wrist, and she jerked back, attempting to free her hand in vain.

"Don--"

Pain stole her voice. It threatened to send her knees, but once again, his grip held her still as it slipped back into her hair, holding her in place with sheer strength. Her teeth sunk into her lip, drawing blood in her unwillingness to scream.

The world seemed to shudder, existing only in a hazy of pain that sprung from her wrist and consumed her being.

Then, suddenly, she met the floor in a dizzying action that made no rhyme nor reason to her clouded mind. Pain struck her shoulder where it hit something as she fell, and Iliana grew aware of a wetness soaking her wrist. It felt minor, however, when compared to the emptiness that followed the sudden lack of drawing, mind-numbing pain.

"I've had my desert, and grow bored," Zuher declared, his chair scraping backwards across the floor. She didn't look up, instead simply gathering the strength to pull her limbs back into order. The seconds it took for her mind to reconnect felt like years. "Return my pet to her room, and bring out the entertainment. A gladiator fight would be nice. The Cieonian?"

Zuher continued to talk, but her mind was focused on that single line as familiar guards dragged her to her feet.

Return her to her room.

To the dark. 

A/N: A lot happened this chapter! 

We finally meet the members of Zuher's inner court. Any thoughts on them just yet? Any theories on how they feel about all of this (although I imagine that's a bit early)?

What about what he said about his present? Excited? 

I know I am. 

See you in two weeks!