I am going to give you a choice.

Those same words that compelled her to become his that night, that led her to risk her life betraying Gillian. Meya felt her hands tremble and she clenched them into fists, listening with bated breath as those pale lips moved.

"First: You remain Lady Arinel, and help me solve the mystery of those dragon riders. I will safeguard you with Hadrian's full might. You will not be punished, and you will be rewarded for your service. You could even stay on and serve me and Lady Arinel if you'd like."

"Second: You go free. I will reward you enough for you to start a new life elsewhere, and I will not persecute you."

There was a brief pause as the two locked eyes. Coris crossed his arms behind him, then concluded gravely.

"Think carefully. Once you've decided, there's no going back."

Meya stared, dumbfounded, at the young lord. He's offering her the chance to stay—not as the scullery maid she should be, but as Lady Arinel—to help him, he said? She? A peasant? How in the three lands could she be any help to him? What kind of joke is he trying to pull here?

Meya narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing the young nobleman. Nothing in those silvery eyes betrayed the slightest glimpse of mockery nor deception. His thin lips were pursed together in a straight line, his expression set as if in stone.

Meya backed away, reining in shivers as she shook her head, eyes wide and fearful.

"Why are you offering me this? Why do you want me here? What do you see in me?"

She demanded, her voice shriller and breathier as she went. "I'm just a stupid, useless peasant girl. I can't even read or write. I can't help you with anything. Why in the three lands would you need me?"

Coris was the epitome of calm as he slowly approached her. Meya's foot bumped into something wooden—the leg of Coris's wardrobe. She stumbled backwards, throwing her hands out for balance. Coris stopped in his tracks, giving her plenty of space, yet his serene presence still overwhelmed her, making her feel small and cornered.

"Don't you want to know more about dragons, Lattis and The Axel? Don't you want to know why you are born a Greeneye? Don't you want to experience being a noblewoman, see if you have what it takes?"

"I'm just a peasant girl. I tried being Lady Crosset and it didn't work out. You foiled me from the start." Meya argued.

"And I'm giving you the chance to try again, aren't I?" Coris shot back, eyes flashing willfully.

"You scolded me for letting my death decide my life. Now you're letting your birth decide yours."

Meya felt like the breath was knocked out of her.

He was right.

She had failed countless times in her life. Yet she had not let any beating-up stop her from trying again. For years she had practiced in secret in the woods as the rain pummeled her and the winds batted her to perfect her mother's song. And still, the townspeople never allowed her to replace Mum as the Song of May Day. For her whole life she struggled to win Dad's approval. She tried laboring, gambling, foraging, beautifying—anything to be useful. But she could never become the daughter he wanted.

Nobody had given her a chance.

But Coris was willing to. And she had to admit—she wasn't ready to let it all go so soon.

Not like this. Not just yet.

But could she really do it? Lattis. The Axel. Dragons. Riders. The Hadrians. Latakia. Nostra. Everglen. They all seemed much too grand for her.

Was she being too confident, too greedy, too reckless? Or was she being a coward? A weak, indecisive peasant girl?

If she let this go, then what else? If not now, then when? Ready or not, she had to give this her best shot and succeed—or die trying. There's not going to be a someday. There's nothing else to lose. Hadn't she already decided?

As Meya dithered, Coris went on.

"I want you for your loyalty, your bravery, your ambition, and your wit. You can be more than a servant—given the chance." He emphasized those words, silvery eyes gleaming in the firelight boring straight into hers.

"I'm giving you that chance. And I daresay you'll be hard-pressed to find a better opportunity elsewhere."

Meya remain silent, still studying those unfathomable eyes for a flicker of deceit. Coris cocked his head, his voice softer.

"I should warn you. You already know how dangerous this could be. I understand if you're reluctant to wager your life again. So, think carefully. A good strategist does not let insecurity nor pride cloud his judgment."

Silence descended as silver and emerald clashed, as the scene was set by the uneasy mixture of firelight and moonbeam. Meya pursed her lips tight, a grim line of determination, her voice quiet yet clear in the gloom.

"I'm in, my liege."

⏳

"So, what do I have to do?"

Meya chose to break the silence, after Coris had simply nodded. Coris smiled, but there was no joy in his ever-calculating eyes.

"Learn. And fast." He said brusquely. Meya blinked, puzzled. "You have just made your first fatal mistake, Meya."

Meya frowned, still confused. Coris sighed, his expression softening to a mix of concern and guilt.

"You're too trusting." He stated, then shook his head and clarified. "I haven't offered anything as proof of our deal. And you haven't come up with any threats for me should I betray you. You have nothing but my word, and it's not enough. Always ask for something binding when you strike a deal, and make sure to learn as much as possible about the other party."

Meya was still having trouble catching up. She? Too trusting? Of Coris? Why should she distrust him? Yes, he did lie to her before, but he hadn't meant her any harm even then. And they were on the same side!

"You nearly led twenty people to their deaths when your deal with Gillian fell through. You must be more careful."

"That was different. I know you're a good man. You've been gracious and fair to me, and I trust you. I don't want to threaten you." Meya argued.

"But you should." Coris was still unrelenting, a frown of slight frustration furrowing his brows. "Meya, you can't trust anyone just because they're nice to you. Or because they're a Greeneye like you."

He spoke as if he could read her mind. Meya bit her lip, painfully reminded of her unwitting camaraderie with Gillian.

"You're Lady Hadrian now. You're responsible for the safety of The Axel, which means the safety of Hadrian, and perhaps the whole of Latakia. Your enemies are no longer locusts, floods or droughts. They're people. I appreciate your loyalty, but you need to think differently from what you're used to."

Meya sucked in a deep breath, then sighed heavily. There was that scary, alone feeling again. True, she lied to her family and broke the law on a daily basis, but playing mind games like Coris did so flawlessly? That was out of her depth.

Sighing, Meya nodded in surrender.

"Fine. If you betray me..." She waved her hand about as she wracked her brain. "...I'll tell everyone where The Axel is, putting Zier in grave danger?"

Coris smiled, satisfied, which was disconcerting, considering he'd just egged her to blackmail him and she suggested using his brother's life.

"That's more like it." He complimented, then cocked his head, "But I suggest you also throw in Hadrian and Latakia for good measure. It's public knowledge that I'm not exactly a loving brother."

With that pithy remark, Coris turned and beckoned her to follow him to his study desk with a flick of his hand, lecturing over his shoulder.

"I'll write down two copies of everything I said, and we will each keep one. This should prevent both of us from reneging on our deal."

He gestured for Meya to sit down on the chair facing the wall, while he circled around the desk, bent down then opened the drawer. He pulled out two parchments, a quill and an inkwell.

Meya propped her chin on her hand and watched as Coris flourish lines upon lines of words onto the brownish parchment, the tip of his long, hawk-feather quill quivering and at times swinging as he wrote loopy letters.

"Once we signed our names, the contract will become official." Coris paused and looked up. "Anything else you'd like to add or set straight first?"

Meya jolted; she was carried away following Coris's quill. She thought about what she had meant to ask, and couldn't help blushing, glowing green eyes sliding inadvertently towards the four-poster bed as she stammered,

"When...when you said I'll still be Lady Arinel, does that mean we're still going to, er...?"

Meya trailed off, simpering in apology. Coris blinked, then he too colored, before he composed himself.

"No." He declared, his voice firm, then his tone softened as he went on, "Once all this is over, Arinel would be reinstated as my wife. I must start getting to know her, which means no sleeping with you."

Meya bit her lip and looked down, then heaved a covert sigh. Though she had anticipated it, it pained her nonetheless. She had impulsively given him her virginity, but he was bound to be marrying another woman, while she would be doomed to spinsterhood for the rest of her life.

Perhaps Coris had sensed her melancholy; he rested his cold hand on her shoulder, as his tender, sad voice consoled her.

"I promise. You won't need a husband to provide for you once you're done working for me. And why would you trade your name for a man who decides your worth by your purity, anyway?"

Meya looked up and found kind, understanding silvery eyes boring straight into hers in the calm silence, and forced out what she hoped was a brave smile.

"Thank you, Lord Coris."

Coris cocked his head with a grin.

"It's the least I could do for someone who saved my life, and shared her first night with me." His smile widened a little, then he bowed his head in shame. "I'm sorry for all my lies, but I really did enjoy that night. Thank you."

Meya twisted her dress, snickering to cover her shyness.

"I enjoyed it, too. So thank you, too, my liege." She admitted coyly, then muttered to herself, "Though I reckon now the whole of Hadrian knows how unexpectedly big your ding-dong is."

"Excuse me?" Coris asked, brows tied.

"I was saying," Meya chirped brightly, "The other thing is, I can't read...or write. Not even my name."

Coris froze for a beat, then resurfaced with a whispered swear, frustrated with himself.

"Fyr! How could I have forgotten?"

"It's alright, my liege. Just sign for me." Meya threw up her hands. Her smile sagged when Coris's sharp, scolding gaze zeroed in on her, especially at his cool voice.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're lazy, Meya?"

Meya blinked, miffed yet too confused to blow her top. Coris took advantage of her silence and went right on.

"You're smarter than most people I've met. Yet, when I asked what you planned to do for a living, you thought of gambling and swindling. Because they're easy gold, aren't they?"

Meya fell back against her chair's backrest, pouting in annoyance.

"When you're a Greeneye and a peasant and a woman, there's not much else you can do to earn bread and bed if you're not good at housework."

"Housework doesn't take born genius to be good at. It takes patience and diligence. Both of which you don't have a single ounce of." Coris rebuffed dryly, an eyebrow raised. Meya was by now thoroughly pissed.

"You're one to talk, my liege. You've never even emptied your own chamberpot."

Coris blinked, taken aback. Meya froze, realizing too late that she might have been a little too brazen.

"That was very unbecoming, my liege. Please don't kill me." She squeaked. Her apology seemed to have amused the young lord; Coris chuckled then cocked his head.

"It's a fair argument. I don't have the right to reprimand you for your reluctance to do housework."

As Meya slumped to a pathetic heap on her chair in relief, Coris went back to business.

"While you're here, you'll earn bread and bed by doing lawful work for me. And, your first task..." He reopened his drawer and pulled out a sheaf of white linen paper, then set it down before Meya, "...is to learn how to write your name."

"Wouldn't it be much faster if you'd just sign it for me?" Meya frowned at the pile of rag paper, then at Coris, who still looked deadly serious.

"If you want to work for me, you must be literate." His kind voice had grown sharp and curt, "If you want to go far in life, you must be literate. You just got caught because you can't read, and you still have the galls to be lazy?"

Meya opened her mouth to argue, then sighed when she realized there was no coming back from that. Sure of victory, Coris dipped his quill in his inkwell and drew up a piece of paper.

"Tell me your true name."

Meya heaved a tortured sigh, then nodded in resignation.

"May-lah Awn-ya Hild." She recited dully, then blew out another sigh. "It's Glennian. You won't be able to spell it anyway."

Coris was unperturbed; he seemed to have reverted to his good mood.

"Fortunately, I happen to be a Runes enthusiast, with an enormous..."

Coris twisted around to the bookshelf behind his desk, running his hand over numerous leather-bound, gold-gilded spines. With a long, tapered finger, he hooked out a thick book, then whirled back and displayed it proudly,

"Rune Glossary."

Meya turned sharply away, hoping her curtain of fake golden locks would hide her burning cheeks, but it wasn't quick enough. Coris blinked, surprised, then hitched up a sly grin.

"You are one randy lass, Meya Hild."

Meya whipped around and glared as the well-endowed lad snickered in triumph. Falling back against his chair's backrest, Coris selected another book, then straightened up and laid them on the desk.

"Do you know the meaning of your name?" He asked as he lifted the thick cover of the glossary, then trawled his forefinger through the index, his tongue sticking out between his yellowed, chipped teeth. Meya couldn't help wondering if that had something to do with his damaged innards.

"Queen of May, and heavenly glow." She grudgingly obliged, then puffed out a moody breath. "Go with Meya, my liege. It's a lot easier."

"Since you're going to be learning all the letters anyway, wouldn't it make more sense to just go with the one with more letters?"

Meya couldn't argue with that. Her lower lip puckered out like a fish with an underbite, she sulked as she watched Coris rifle back and forth through the glossary, pausing every now and then to scribble a few runes on the linen.

Once done, he shunted the heavy glossary aside and pulled the second book towards him. Meya reckoned it was a Latakian-Glennian lexicon; Coris was writing down Latakian letters underneath the row of runes one by one.

Once the last rune had been transliterated, Coris pushed the book away then spun the parchment to face Meya.

"There you go. Your name."

Meya leaned in and studied the trail of shining, dark magenta ink, joining and looping and rising and falling to form words she didn't recognize.

Maelaith Aiyne Hild

Meya laid her calloused finger on the slightly damp ink, slowly tracing the intertwined letters. It was the first time in her life she had ever seen her full name in writing. It might just be Coris's penmanship, but Meya thought it looked very pretty.

"Perhaps you shouldn't be so harsh on it." Coris whispered. He gave a small smile when she looked up and met his eyes, then tilted his head, "It's a beautiful name. With a beautiful meaning. Lovingly crafted."

Meya couldn't help smiling in reply, as she felt an inexplicable warmth enveloping her heart. She'd always wished for a simple Latakian name that anyone could say and spell. That castle clerks wouldn't complain loudly about. That didn't underline the fact of her being a Greeneye. But, perhaps, having a unique, exotic name wasn't that bad, now that she thought of it.

Glennian seemed to be a beautiful language with beautiful letters full of mystique, and Meya was beginning to want to learn more.

"Have you met any other Greeneyes, Lord Coris? Do you know their true names?"

Meya looked up from the parchment, one finger still caressing her name. Coris shook his head, his expression downcast.

"Noble families aren't so noble in how they treat Greeneye children." He spited, his voice grave. "My friend Agnesia Graye has—had—a little sister—Persephia. She's a Greeneye. It's supposed to be a secret, so she's never given a Glennian name."

Agnesia Graye had a Greeneye sister? Meya leaned closer.

"A Greeneye Lady? What's she like?"

"I don't think I could describe her properly." Coris frowned as he fidgeted with his quill, uncomfortable. "We've never met at her nor my best."

It took Meya a beat to decipher the cryptic explanation.

"You mean she was bullied by her family, and you also bullied her like you bullied Zier?" She prodded, an eyebrow raised, then smirked when Coris nodded in defeat. "What did Lady Agnes say?"

Even after all that had transpired, Meya found it nigh impossible to be polite and respectful to Coris when they'd already slept together numerous times. Luckily, Coris was still sport; he gave her a wry smirk and a side-eye.

"You think I'd bully my crush's little sister when she was around to see?"

"Good to know my liege is definitely not a lying, cowardly bully." Meya stifled a barking laugh with difficulty.

"Hence the need for a contract." Coris cocked his head with an acknowledging grin, which Meya reciprocated. Silence fell as the two former fake-lovers caught themselves being overfamiliar. Meya toyed with a stray lock of hair. Coris spun his quill between his forefingers, then finally broke the spell.

"Tell me about your siblings."

"So you could use them as hostages?" Meya shot back, then went on with a laugh as Coris shook his head, "I have two big sisters that I'd trade for an adorable hug-sized piglet any day, so good luck with that."

"And I thought I'd hit rock bottom when Zier said he'd trade me for a busty wet nurse." Coris joked back.

"I can handle Morel." Meya shook her head, "She's got a rotten mouth, but pretty much everyone in Crosset would develop temporary gum rot while talking to me. But Marin..."

Meya trailed off, feeling drained all of a sudden. After a pause, she heaved a miserable sigh.

"I'd give anything to be as pretty as her."

"Anything?" Coris challenged. Meya glanced up and met his keen, hard-to-read gaze. "Would it actually make things better if you were prettier?"

Meya imagined the scenario, then shook her head. True, she might have one thing less to complain about herself, but there was no telling if it would make any difference to Mum and Dad. Let alone the people of Crosset. What with her Song and her monstrous eyes.

"Well, if I were to choose, I'd rather not be born with glowing eyes, I guess." She concluded with a gloomy sigh, then remembered her disrupted discussion with Coris in the Town Hall.

"You said King Edward and Maxus Hadrian wanted to protect Greeneyes from being killed by Lattis, so they announced the Mining Ban. And you think Greeneyes are dragon riders?"

Coris nodded, but Meya shook her head.