Zuher's words sunk into her chest, easing fear's grip from her heart.

A new room. If he was bothering to move her, that likely meant her new quarters would be free of the dark. Gods she hoped she was right. Her hands trembled as she clasped them in front of her stomach, attempting to hide the relief flooding her body.

"What are you doing?" Zuher demanded.

Iliana stiffened. Had she done something wrong?

Her attention refocused, and she realized the emperor wasn't looking at her. Instead, his eyes were centered on Del and Lykos. The latter had offered the prince his hand, which he used to reach his feet. Neither of them looked surprised at the irritation that had suddenly entered Zuher's voice.

"We provided your show," Del said.

Zuher scoffed, leaning back in his chair. The lighthearted issue of Iliana's room appeared far from his mind as he studied the two of them, before flicking his hand through the air. "I never said you were finished."

Iliana bit the inside of her cheek. Pointing out to Zuher that unless they were dueling to the death, no honorable nobleman took a duel beyond first blood, seemed like a pointless endeavor. He no doubt knew that, and was choosing to ignore the matter. Del's previous words flooded her mind.

'So you want to see me cut up again. Or, you want her to see it.'

Zuher's bet had distracted her from the real issue at play. This wasn't a typical duel. He was either aiming to make a point, or to punish them for some perceived slight. Neither result would be reached by something as simple as first blood.

"Go again," Zuher ordered.

Iliana's nails dug into the back of her hand as Del and Lykos drew to opposing sides of the circle. For the second time that afternoon, a murmur echoed through the courtyard, before they sprung at each other. Blow after blow was exchanged--the clash of metal ringing through the air for endless minutes--before Lykos landed a heavy kick to Del's chest, that sent him sprawling across the stones. Crimson colored the ground beneath his hands as the tip of Lykos' blade settled beneath his chin.

"I--" Del began.

"Again."

Zuher's words cut Del off with chilling intent. As Del heaved himself to his feet and the combat resumed, Iliana's heart began to stutter with unsettling suspicion.

Lykos won again, this time with a slice to Del's hip. His greater stamina was beginning to show. Before they could relax, the call of 'again' froze the air. Each time they approached an end, one of them gaining a lead over the other, Zuher would order them to resume.

Even as the sun crept higher in the sky, gathering beads of sweat across Iliana's brow, the fight continued. The audience watched in taut silence. Iliana drew as close to the circle as she dared, only Zuher's eyes keeping her from launching herself beyond the black stones.

Then, it happened.

Del stumbled, the tip of his sword catching on the rough courtyard. The sickening slash of metal through flesh sounded, Lykos diverting what might've been a killing blow at last second. Instead, his blade dug through the thick of Del's thigh, sending the prince to his knees. Crimson poured from the gash, matting his pants the same shade that dominated most of his body.

As Del struggled for breath, Lykos straightened. At some point, he'd lost his shirt. Or perhaps it'd become too shredded to continue using. Regardless, his newly rescarred chest was coated with a thin sheen of sweat. He, too, was caked with blood, but not near as bad. And as Iliana watched, Lykos rested his blade laid against his leg, his steel gaze meeting Zuher's. He said nothing, but the question was clear.

'Is this enough?'

Somehow, Iliana forced herself to look away from the circle long enough to study Zuher. The emperor had relaxed once again, his chin returning to its place against his palm. His fathomless eyes studied the courtyard with indecipherable emotion. Then, he smiled.

"Again."

Iliana swung to face him. Her hands curled into fists as fire burned away her fear. "You can't be fucking--"

"Iliana."

Her name was rasped, but it was enough. Her tongue stilled, anger chilled into a numb fear. She didn't turn around as movement sounded behind her, metal scrapping across the stones, before Del drew in a slow, labored breath. Each clang and clash that followed drove a hollow realization deeper and deeper into her mind.

It wasn't her life she wagered if she mouthed off.

It was Del's. Lykos'. Her heart slowed to a dull throb as the names sank into her veins, followed by others. Corinna. Aatami. Innocents with lives worth the same, or less than hers in the emperors' eyes. If she stepped wrong, and Zuher disregarded the leashes he seemed to be attempting to form, he would look for others. Anyone she met and wasn't hostile to would become a liability.

Her attitude endangered her allies' lives.

Something she had no right to risk.

Metal sliced flesh, and Iliana's knees trembled. A slow smile crept across Zuher's pale lips, the tip of his finger slowly tapping his cheek. "You seem tired?"

Desperation flicked through her. His question was bait, or an out. Which was it? Which should she reach for? The bait was more likely, it suited his style, but that didn't mean the second was impossible. He wanted her to bend a knee, and Iliana requesting to retire could be viewed as her recognizing, and giving into, the power he held over her every action.

Gods, why did it have to be her in this situation? Words were what she needed--words that would convince Zuher there was more fun to be had in stopping this madness than continuing. But, in Iliana's hands, words had always been matches, not restraints. She couldn't bind tempers, she ignited them.

"Yes, I..."

Think, she ordered herself. There has to be something. I need to leave.

Without her as an audience, Zuher might grow bored. How did she get out?

It hit her then.

Iliana wasn't good with words, but her sister was. And, she'd spent the first thirteen years of her life watching every step her sister took.

A memory of Mara excusing herself from a ball flashed through her mind. Kyril's temperament felt similar to Zuher's. While the duke was far less dangerous, he had the same hair trigger emotions.

The words tumbled from Iliana's lips before she could hesitate.

"I wish to retire."

She tucked a dangling lock of her hair behind her ear, using the simple action to conceal the uncertain tremble in her hands. Mara had always been playing with her hair, and her skirts, when they were around the peerage. It had baffled Iliana then, but now she understood the need to do something with her body far too well.

"This is more excitement than I have had since my arrival. It is exhausting. Those rooms you offered..."

'People, noblemen especially, like to be flattered,' the Mara of Iliana's memory said. 'Remind them of what they've gifted you, imply gratefulness, and it will ease the burden of whatever you request. Kyril likes it when I thank him for his flowers. Remember that when you're wed.'

"I grow curious about them."

Zuher stilled, his chin still laid lazily against his palm. She had begun to recognize it as a tell-tale sign of confidence and comfort. A shudder of tension left her spine as he quirked a lip, but didn't lower his hand. "I see."

The knowledge reflecting in his eyes told her he really did see. Iliana wasn't a skilled member of the court. Her sudden switch from cursing to flattering had to be obvious--but somehow, he seemed to find it funny rather than insulting. Perhaps this, too, he viewed with the emotion of a pet learning a new trick.

It was insulting, but useful if that were the case.

"Duke Rosi, I believe I saw you arrive?" Zuher called.

Iliana didn't dare pull her eyes from where they met Zuher's gaze. A shuffle of moving feet sounded across the courtyard. Then, a voice so close she stumbled a step closer to Zuher in surprise.

"Your Imperial Majesty," Nicolette greeted. Fabric swayed through the air as he no doubt dipped into an appropriate bow. "I returned this afternoon."

Zuher clicked his tongue. "Such a short trip. Well, regardless, I'll offer you a present to celebrate your return. You can take my pet for a meal, then rest. Her companions are a bit tied up, as you see. And I do hate to leave her alone when she's behaving so nicely."

His chilling words forced her to spare the duke a glance. Nicolette smiled as he raised a single, crimson brow. "For a meal?"

Zuher snorted. "Yes, for a meal. You would have to bring the head of a king for me to share, as you're aware."

"A reasonable request," Nicolette said. "It is a wonderful gift. Are we to leave now?"

Zuher inclined his head, and the duke offered Iliana his arm. When she didn't move, Nicolette pursed his lips.

"You are aware of how these things work, aren't you?"

Hesitation swept through her as she looked back at Zuher. He waved his hand, and with overwhelming reluctance, Iliana rested her hand on Nicolette's forearm.

The emperor was giving into her request. She was leaving the courtyard, and even receiving a meal. So, why did she feel so uneasy?

Nicolette settled his cold fingers over hers, and offered a nodded bow to Zuher before starting out of the courtyard. It took everything she had not to argue, to demand others join her, and instead follow the duke's lead.

It felt like she'd traded a dragon for a snake.

Nicolette might not have had Zuher's status, but the emperor's regard was just as dangerous as any blade. And Zuher seemed to weigh each member of Ayo's family with a biased scale.

At least with her gone, Zuher had less reason to continue.

"Again!"

The call sliced through her hope, leaving Iliana with only a silent prayer of safety to whatever god would listen.

The clash of swords rang in her head even after a door blocked the duel from her ears.

┈♔◦𓇣◦☽◦❤◦☾◦𓇣◦♔┈

The first dozen minutes after she left the courtyard were filled with silence. Nicolette escorted her with a firm, but not overly tight, grip on her hand as her mind spun with fear for the others.

Their path was a mix of familiar and not, which came as a faint relief to her dizzying emotions. Despite how twisting the halls of the palace were, she held hope that memorizing her way would remain possible.

"The servants call you lady," Nicolette stated.

Iliana's eyes flicked to him, that familiar distaste for the title unfurling in the back of her mind. She held her tongue, however, focusing on the rest of his words. If he was willing to make conversation, she should make the best of it. She forced her mind away from the courtyard and into the present.

"The servants talk of me?"

She hadn't personally met anyone who was free, but also capable of speech.

Nicolette studied her in silence, his expression revealing nothing, before he offered a small shrug. "As much as they ever talk of anything."

It took a large amount of willpower not to snarkily comment on how vague his words were.

"I'm not a lady," Iliana said instead.

Nicolette paused several feet before a door, giving a guard time to step up and open it for them. They crossed into the dining hall in silence. Then, as he led the way to the front of the hall, Nicolette shook his head.

"Whether that was once true or not, it is true no longer," he explained. "You're officially a member of the menagerie. That gives you status higher than most of the peerage, even if the rules of that status are different."

Iliana eyed him uneasily. She had begun to suspect as much given Aria's insistence on 'milady,' but his wording caused equal amounts of nerves and curiosity to spark to life in her mind. "And what are the rules of that status?"

He released her arm as they reached the table. Before she could debate where to sit, Nicolette pulled out a chair and paused. Reading the expectation in his expression, Iliana sat.

"Most are obvious," Nicolette continued as he took his own seat and waved to an unseen servant. "Despite your faux noble status, you've the rights of a slave. You cannot leave, eat, or even socialize without His Imperial Majesty's approval. You stay in quarters he arranges, you receive treatment he deems suiting. For you, a siren, that means near respectful handling from anyone but him, as only he is allowed to mark your skin."

The 'near' part of his statement caught in her mind. Was the caveat if she caused trouble? It would make sense if they were allowed to get rough if she tried to escape, or injure one of them.

"But, on the other hand, it also means pretend respect among the peerage."

A small boy with an iron collar approached the table. It churned Iliana's stomach, but Nicolette seemed not to care as he instructed the boy to bring them two of whatever was being served that day, along with a glass of wine. The sickness in her gut only grew worse as he rattled off two different kinds of wine, for obvious reasons. The last time she was in the dining hall it had become obvious what sorts of drinks demons preferred.

At least he wasn't expecting her to join him as Zuher had.

"Pretend, because no one here will sympathize with your plight, and mentally they will not ever forget your true status. The peerage will give you respect because they do not want to risk Zuher's wrath if he decides they aren't showing enough difference to something of his, but they will cut corners where they can, as is always true of court."

Iliana studied Nicolette as he spoke, her uneasiness forgotten as that spark of curiosity only grew stronger. The Letian duke was someone who she had no desire to be near, but at the moment he was offering the one thing she sorely needed--information. His crimson hair hung in loosely styled locks around his face, his pitch-black eyes focused on where the servant had disappeared.

His attention drew a useless question to the forefront of her thoughts. She disregarded it at first, then changed her mind. If she asked useless questions, perhaps it would ease him into answering her when she changed to the important details.

"Do demons need to eat?"

Nicolette furrowed his brow, his attention flicking back to her. His expression clearly showed that he, too, viewed this as a strange change of subject. "No. But the taste isn't lost on us, so we still enjoy food when the situation arises."

And yet, most of Reotak's common folk struggled to eat because of the droughts. One would think that the fact that all their food was grown on the coast, or imported, would mean wasting it would be frowned upon. Of course, that would require the demons to actually care about the humans.

"I see," she said instead of voicing her thoughts. "That makes sense, I suppose."

His lips twitched as if he could hear the disapproval she'd buried. "You aren't familiar with court."

She frowned. Was he insulting her ability to hide her thoughts?

"I'm out of practice."

Nicolette chuckled, but dropped the subject as the serving boy returned. Iliana's stomach clenched painfully as the smell of fresh roast and potatoes hit the air. Gods, how long had it been since she'd had a proper meal? If she excluded the food dropped in her cell... it was before she had arrived. A period of time she'd found impossible to count.

"I se--"

"How long have I been here?" she interrupted. It hadn't been intentional, which Nicolette thankfully seemed to realize.

He studied her thoughtfully, waiting until their meals had been placed, and wine poured, before bothering to answer. "Nearing two weeks."

Her mind blanked.

Two weeks.

It felt both far too long, and too short a time for what she had experienced.

Iliana had only received food and water once. Weren't people supposed to die of dehydration before that? Sailors were warned to be careful, and while she couldn't remember how long you could go without water, she knew it was less than a week.

She should be dead.

It was likely her siren status that had saved her, a detail that settled in her chest like an anchor.

Nicolette was watching her, obviously expecting a response she didn't have. Iliana instead busied herself with taking a sip of her wine, mouth parched. The excuse lasted for but a minute--which was how long it took her to down her drink. The demon sighed and waved for a refill.

"I won't carry you back if you get yourself drunk," he warned. "I'll leave you to your consequences."

She shuddered, then nodded her understanding. She didn't want to know how Zuher would handle her drinking too much.

He watched her a moment longer, before letting the conversation fall as they ate. Occasionally he would break the silence with a tidbit of information, either about a member of court as they entered the room, or their meal, but nothing struck her as hard as the date had. 

A/N: For reference, Iliana's realization of the date here once again places her narrative ahead of Kain's (It sorta always had been). 

A lot happened this chapter. Any thoughts on it? You've finally gotten to see a bit of Nicolette, but is it enough to have an opinion on the duke? What of Zuher's actions in this chapter? Did Iliana make the right call in removing herself? 

See you guys next week! 

P.S. The song is not a vibe for the chapter, more just a vibe for the series instead.