Verena did not understand why Thael had bought such a thing. The kite was useless to him. Then she thought back to the boy playing with the toy, and the parents applauding his efforts. It rode the winds, tethered to the boy… but what if the kite was untethered? What if it was free? It could go wherever the winds took it. Thael was such a world to her. She would make him see it.

She looked around at the people in colorful garb as they passed, going about their lives peacefully. They would fall before the dark shadow of the eagle as they all did. The Empire’s talons had not reached them… not yet.

What was her own existence?

Nothing but subterfuge, blood, and death. Yet still she believed. There was something in Thael she saw in herself – the belief that they could all be set free. Thael had given up on that long ago. She just had to make him see that he had never been given a choice. She could grant him such a thing.

They reached the palace, walked through the lovely gardens, and returned to the pavilion. Cyrus was snoring in chair, Loric nodded to them as they entered, and Deckerd was still playing with his knife… like the man who had held her down once before. Sometimes she could still see his grin, still feel the cold fingers wrapped over her wrists, her legs… holding her down. Sometimes she despised being a woman. Sometimes she wondered if any of this would have happened if she were a man. Then Thael, standing over her, made her feel otherwise. She would be hard as stone. She would be strong—no, stronger than even him.

A man in the servant’s uniform of a green silk tunic lined with golden thread awaited them.

“Verena, wake up Cyrus,” Thael said.

She unceremoniously kicked the oaf’s shin, his eyes bulging as he groaned awake.

“Get up.” Verena smiled. “We’re eating again.”

The bearish man gave a wolfish grin. “Touch me again, love.”

She scoffed and walked beside Thael, close behind the servant, the rest of their cadre following. They were led to a long hall. When they sat the long table, servants moved to place glazed stone platters before them, heaped with fragrant, spiced food. The hall was generously lit by paper lanterns.

“Crux are these things?” Cyrus said, holding out the sticks that had been placed by his plate and spearing a nearby dumpling. “How am I supposed to eat with these?”

Deckerd had already figured out how to use the wooden utensils, holding them between his thumb, forefinger and middle finger. Thael ate his soup first before the others.

“Fuck me, this is the greatest invention known to man!” Cyrus said, spinning the revolving board in the center of the table, which had been heaped with a variety of dishes.

“You don’t have to hoard everything,” Loric remarked. “By the Mythic, how much food have you eaten just today?”

“Not enough. We’re gonna waste away on that bleeding ship. My belief is to take as much from this world while you still can, or remain the thin stick you are for no good reason.”

“A man shares a lot of resemblance with pigs,” Loric noted.

Cyrus looked back at him, chewing furiously with relish.

“How long do you think we’re going to stay here, Commander?” Deckerd asked quietly.

“We stay until Krystos returns,” Thael answered.

Verena poured sweet-smelling tea into her cup from a nearby ceramic pot.

Cyrus belched. “Fine with me. All we need now are those famed Haolan courtesans…”

Thael fixed him with a blank stare. Cyrus quieted and renewed his feasting.

“We’ve for two days now,” Verena murmured. “What else could be spoken of past the arch queen’s terms?” She stared at Thael, who ate in silence. “Unless they are speaking of something else entirely.”

Even Cyrus ceased his chewing. Thael set his sticks down.

“It’s not up to us how they approach this treaty. It’s out of our hands now,” Thael stated.

“We’re Wraiths,” Verena said. “It’s always in our hands. If Krystos shirks the arch queen’s terms, how do we know that she won’t just execute us before we even reach harbor?”

“I don’t.”

She squinted at Thael. “You know—you knew this would happen.”

“We’re in Haol now. What the arch queen wants is very different to what they do, Verena.”

“Don’t treat me like a fucking initiate. There’s no point being your second if we all die here, or before reaching Arcadia. What do you know, Thael?”

The others paused, gazing back at him.

“I know that if we try to bring Krystos down, there is a cadre waiting at each level, not counting the soldiers surrounding this palace. I know whatever plan you’re thinking of is suicide. So sit, eat, drink and wait before I make you.” His dark eyes glinted with a hardness not usually directed towards her. It made her spine tingle.

Verena shrugged. “Leaving your cadre by the wayside is to find yourself with no allies, no support, and very much dead.”

“Quoting Bayner won’t help us, nor will any action,” Thael remarked upon the Wraith commander who had written the order’s Codex of Tactics. “And he died very much alone. We wait.”

She stood and made her way to the guest quarters. She did not enter her own room, but Thael’s. She took off her Shroud, armor and gear, laying them on the floor, then donned back her cloak and waited by in shadow of one long wall.

It was not long before Thael entered. He glanced at her as she let her cloak fall to her bare feet.

She shivered despite the warmth rushing throughout her body.

“Verena…” he said softly. “Get yourself dressed.”

She stood there, stunned. Her confusion swelled to anger.

“Fuck you, Thael.” She slapped his face. He looked back at her. She stepped closer, whispering, “Fuck. Me.”

She darted forward and kissed him, nipping his lower lip, then standing back.

He stood there for an instant’s hesitation before taking her in his arms, turning her and throwing her onto the bed. She landed, breasts slightly bruised against the mattress, her hardened nipples tender against the soft cloth. He held her neck and kissed her before roughly pushing her down to the bed once more. She gasped in panic and ecstasy as he finally entered her. She was slick with desire. There had been a void, and now he filled it with every stroke, every breath, every worthwhile sensation between her groin and his.

She arched her back as he continued to thrust hard, his hand gripping and pulling her waist. She whimpered in painful pleasure. Something swelled and throbbed within her, wracking her with wave after wave of heat that spread throughout her body, suffusing her senses with a cry of elation. His warm seed spurted within her as she shuddered so many times she couldn’t hear past her waning breath and his.

He slid out from her as quickly as he had entered.

Verena finally turned to rest her back against the bed. Thael sat upon a nearby chair, having already belted on his trousers.

“This was a mistake,” he said hoarsely.

“What did you just say?”

She rose and began dressing herself. His seed dripped down her thighs as she pulled on her stockings, her pants, shoving her feet back into her boots. “We just fucked. If this was a mistake, you better ask yourself why you wanted this. We both wanted this. Is that so hard to ask? Because you were harder than fucking rock.” She reached out to Thael. “You don’t have to be like this...”. This time he caught her wrist and wrenched her away, breaking off her words into a gasp of pain.

“Get out,” he growled.

Her Shroud darkened her path as she left him.