Under the evening sun, the garden of Keiha Palace glimmered like molten gold. The lake's glossy water sloshed peacefully against the shore, freed of most of the lotuses occupying its canals. It must have rained while I was in the bath, too; the wet ground smelled of petrichor as Ι tried not to step on the sprouting flowers.

"How graceful," Erhan commented as I pinched the heavy fabric of my dress up. "You represent Khania spectacularly."

A young couple of nobles strolled by us, inclining their head in sustained amusement. Blood rushed to my cheeks. I knew I didn't belong here, and everyone around me clearly did too. Their inquiring eyes attempted to force a confession out of my shrunken frame, an explanation as to why a supposed diplomat's understudy didn't know how to hold her tongue in front of the emperor. My only self-defense was to avoid their gaze. I turned to look at Erhan. Unlike me, he seemed composed enough to belong here - the sourness tightening his jaw made me doubt whether he liked that, however.

A calm song echoed across the garden, its notes deliberate and oddly snobbish. I wasn't sure what the court did with their free time, and my curiosity wasn't appetized by the sight before me. Some glimmering figures lounged around fountains, passing a platter of colorful foods among themselves; some others dully stared at their open books, or at wooden boards filled with pawns. None of them seemed to concern themselves with matters of their provinces like Lyra had insisted on during a long debate of ours.

As I glanced around the garden, I found myself wondering what the poor's money was invested in. Exotic fruits? Another round of kheda? Perhaps even the beautiful dress handed to me was tailored with the tears of famished Ashabans. I always wondered why the emperor would let any town of his deteriorate into filth; now, looking at the gilded cage he had detained himself in, that curiosity was starting to melt into frustration.

"Stop looking as if you want to slaughter the entire court," Erhan said through narrow lips.

I couldn't help the sense of injustice boiling in my chest, and even as I tried to douse it with the fear lingering through the atmosphere, the flame seethed instead. Blowing out a harsh breath, I turned my gaze to the placid lake. "It's just so- unfair."

He laughed, taking a turn towards a stone pavilion. White columns held a small roof above the paved circle, shielding two cushioned chairs sparkling with golden embroidery from the weak sunlight. "Life is unfair, my friend. Have you not realized already?"

I swallowed a stubborn lump down my throat.

The music was faint here. Erhan had chosen a reserved place for his scheming, yet the nobles were visible even through the summer mist floating around the garden. Their figures seemed so small, so insignificant - their pride, though, I could sense from miles away.

My mind itched with curiosity as I took a seat next to the enchanter. A part of me ached to know who, where, how, and the rest loathed the idea altogether. I was torn in shreds, every splinter of myself a different shade of desperate.

And a sick, desolate sliver of my heart yearned to give my family another chance in the cruel life they were given. With a shiver, I realized it wasn't the mission I feared so greatly; it was the secret eagerness I felt to do it.

I gave my head a violent shake. That was the despair talking. I couldn't let it spill into my words, too. "Will you keep me in the dark for much longer?" I muttered.

Erhan sunk into his seat and weaved his fingers together. "Do not give me an attitude, Miyu. I was the one who had to shake the grimy hand of every noble in this palace."

It was no wonder everyone regarded him with that bizarre stare. His etiquette stood out like a sore thumb. "But- that's not how they greet in Ashaba."

"I had to touch them," he explained with a shrug. "All other ways of doing so seemed a little too straightforward for this court."

"Is that how you measure it?" I leaned forth, a foreign marvel simmering in me. "The strength of a soul?"

He tilted his head to stare at me. His eyes were narrow, and beside the usual humor lingering in his golden irises lay a shared wonder, like the joy of an artisan whispering his craft to a stranger. It was difficult to meet an enchanter in Ashaba; if they weren't all dead in a ditch already, it was even more unlikely for two to meet. But that depended on Erhan's lifespan too, and by the ease he handled the situation with, I assumed he had done this before.

A chill brushed my skin. What was there to live for? And why did he so vehemently evade that question?

"No," he said finally, sharing another smile. "But if I were to make contact with the strongest soul in the empire, I would know."

"And? Who is it?"

The sun cast its discreet luster on the palace, washing the stone structures in a deep burgundy. It was just like in Metsuva, the only beauty the emperor and his court couldn't hog all to themselves. The garden's colors throbbed, and my anticipating eyes were starting to water.

At last, Erhan leaned back. "Have you heart of Zhen of Khuyal?"

I stilled. It felt as if the fleeting winter's ice had returned once more to freeze my limbs, even while my pulse raged. Names were never something I cared to remember; they were often pretentiously long and belonged to people that would disappear a week or two later. Yet that one had been carved into my memory.

My heart nearly jumped out of my throat as I held his gaze. "Yes."

Erhan raised his brows. "Colored me impressed. Have you met him?"

"Yes," I repeated, breathless. "He threatened me. He threatened you!"

"Ah, wonderful!"

"Which part of that was wonderful?"

"At least this will be interesting. Stealing souls for a living gets a little dull sometimes."

I wiped a shaky hand across my face, wrestling with my mind and trying very hard not to snap at the man.

"I made a few inquiries while you were trying to look human again," he continued as he examined the arm of his chair. "One of his ancestors once married the empress. Some of the older nobles here still perceive his clan as the greatest."

"Why would he need to threaten us, then?"

"They fell from power quite harshly, as far as I have gathered." He huffed a laugh and turned to look at me. "Nearly nobody respects his family anymore. Consider yourself lucky."

Nothing about this situation can be considered lucky, I wanted to say. I shifted in my seat as a wave of unease washed over me. "He told me about a plan of yours. I think he believes there's something for you to steal."

"How brilliant. You are telling me I will walk out of Keiha Palace with a soul and unlimited wealth?"

The only possible reply to his greed was a scoff. "And how will that help me?" I muttered, picking on the skin of my fingers.

Erhan shook his head in disbelief. "Is it not obnoxiously obvious?"

"Not really."

"All the man wants is to get his family back on their high pedestal. It is almost as if he would do anything."

"And anything includes giving up his soul?"

He hung his arms across the armchair's spine. "I am open to other suggestions."

I rubbed a finger across my cheek, begging my brain to come up with something better, safer. It didn't take too long for it to reply with silence. Of course. There was no safe option. All I could find in my frantic mind was defeated puzzlement.

"If his soul is the strongest," I said hesitantly, "wouldn't it take more than that to take it from him?"

"A strong soul does not equal a strong mind," he clarified.

A sigh shuddered its way out of my mouth. There was another question pestering my mind all those days, a question I wasn't sure I wanted answered. Yet before my doubts could sew my mouth shut, I said, "And what happens when you take his soul?"

Erhan's eyes held mine, twitching narrow for a split second. The blush-colored sunlight painted his irises quartz pink, two glistening gems that every enchanter would crave to draw their powers from. What does his source look like? I wondered.

"He dies," he finally said, startling me.

His words resounded within my head, bouncing to every corner of my brain until I was sick of its sound. He dies. It sounded so final, sending a pang of guilt to my chest. Erhan had tried to make it seem as if Zhen would be deprived of his soul and nothing more - or so my mind had tried to convince me. Now, hearing the boy beside me utter those words, my stomach had no choice but to flip into a frenzied whirlwind.

"He will leave a body behind," he quickly corrected. His smile had turned sympathetic, as fragile and untransparent as stained glass. "Perhaps a proper burial would ease your moral torment?"

My face turned to the paved ground as a terrible ringing shrilled inside my ears. "Can you be honest for even one moment?" I asked, my lips trembling as I spoke.

"I have never been anything but-"

"No!" I cut off, and I noticed the slightest twitch of his brow. "Tell me what you want. What you really want. Do you like watching people suffer? Is that it?"

His face slowly hardened; a warning. "This again?"

Something tugged at my heart, an alarm for caution that my mouth ignored pompously. "Is it power? Money? What more do you want to have?"

"None of that."

"Then you're a selfish coward. You only want to keep living because you can't bear the thought of ridding the world of your presence!"

My chest flared at my own scathing worlds. Stop, I told myself. Stop before you say something you regret. Yet the words jumped out of my throat quicker than I could seize them.

Erhan barked a laugh, dried of any humor. His jaw was tight and his chest rose and fell rapidly. "You really don't know when to shut up, do you?"

I scowled, slapping my hands on the arms of my chair and shoving my body up. My limbs scorched with adrenaline, and the foreboding omen in my mind told me I would need it. "Don't make this about me," I said. "I'm the one putting my life on the line, and you can't even tell me what in the world for!"

"Do you really believe you can offend me into answering your silly questions?" Erhan shot, blowing out a breath as he shook his head. "I didn't think you had this in you."

"Had what in me?"

"Walk away, Yumi."

The correct use of my name caught me off guard, but the fire in me wasn't fazed. "No. Not until you give me the truth."

"Why does it matter so much?" Erhan breathed, bewildered. "You have your reasons to do this and so do I. If I must be the villain in your mind, so be it. But you can't pretend to be this innocent saint anymore either, so gather what pride you have left and walk away."

I bit back any other words I wanted to spit at him. My heart raged like a ship struggling amidst a tempest, swelling into a storm I could barely contain. Yet a few deep breaths later, as the sky cleared and the sails slackened, my chest begun pounding with another kind of fear; Erhan was right.

The icy wall he always put up was only slightly melted by my scathing remarks, yet I could already see its cracks on his features. His mouth was tight and his gaze unyielding under his slightly furrowed brows. The crease above the bridge of his nose was the first and only rumple I had ever spotted on his smooth face.

My sigh trembled as it rolled off my lips, charged with worry and uneasiness. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm-"

A sudden uproar of yells near the crystal lake's bank cut my apology short.

My head whipped around to stare at the scene. It was close enough to make out some details; sparkling fabrics running towards another even brighter figure, whose hands were filled with grey sacks. Their features were too blurry to recognize from afar - not that there was anybody to recognize, anyway. The only thing that stood out with sharp clarity was the bow swung across the figure's torso.

"What is happening?" I murmured.

"Something good," Erhan hummed, dashing off towards the noise. I couldn't help but scramble behind him.

The closer we stepped to the lake, the more my pulse drummed. The armed figure was a woman, her shiny black hair slicked into a carefully pinned bun. Contrasting harshly with the common beige and raven clothes of the court like blood against blackwood, her jacket and wide-leg pants were a vibrant scarlet. A silver belt coiled around her waist, framing the dazzling grey needlework on her chest. Even her dark skin gleamed. It was as if stardust had been sprinkled on her face. Her chin was raised as she talked to a handmaiden.

"Tell him to walk faster," the woman ordered.

"But- your Highness, I cannot do that."

She is royalty, I noted. Only the emperor's family was bestowed that title, yet no matter how many indiscreet looks I pinned on the woman, I couldn't find an ornament, a brooch, anything to identify her as one of them.

The woman pressed her lips. "Every second I stand here waiting is another day in the stables for you."

The handmaiden's eyes flew wide. With a hasty bow, she scrambled off towards the palace and barely dodged an entourage of servants framing the path of a familiar blonde woman. The empress. Her lips were brushed with a faint rosy pigment to match the sprouting lilies stitched on her sheer robe. "Jingyi," she declared. I raised my brows. Her voice was much softer than I imagined.

"I asked for my father."

"Your father is praying," the empress informed quietly.

Jingyi seemed to swallow her blasphemy, tilting her head in petty ambivalence. "Very well. You will have to do." With a swish of her hand, she hurled the sacks she held on the muddy ground.

A chorus of horrified gasps stuffed my ears. Erhan stepped back in recoil. All I could do was stare at the blood trickling out of the dead hares laying lifelessly on the grass. My muscles had tightened and my stomach churned. Blood. Blood. Blood.

I had never considered myself squeamish. There was usually nobody to tend to my wounds and the blood was easy to get used to; the scar running across my neck was fresh proof of that. Yet the crimson liquid triggered a revulsion in me I didn't think possible until now. My hand reached out to grasp Erhan's sleeve, the distrust in my own legs making me lean against him.

Stepping over the animals' corpses, Jingyi examined the crowd. "Someone said he would rather consume nothing but ill hares for the rest of his life than wed me." She raised an accusatory finger, poking the chest of a young man. "Was it you, Lord Shai?"

The man lips trembled. "N-No."

"So you are a fool and a liar," Jingyi spat, giving his torso one last shove before stepping away. "Enjoy your meal tonight. There might not be a next one."

The world rolled before my eyes, vibrant colors bleeding into one. I squeezed Erhan's forearm. "I don't feel so well," I slurred.

"It would be bizarre if you did," he replied, the top of his mouth raised in a revulsed wince.

Jingyi blew out a sharp breath and turned to look at the empress, whose blue eyes were narrow with a silent apology. "Order the cooks to stop," she told her, loud for everyone to hear.

The empress reached out to touch Jingyi's shoulder. "Love, please-"

"No," she sneered, swatting her hand away. "If not anything else, at least allow me to select dinner."

I clenched my eyes shut as a labored breath climbed from my lungs. My head throbbed with disgust and weariness and that unidentifiable numbness that haunted me ever since I boarded the ship to Sisarah. Yet even behind my closed lids, white spots whirled before me.

The stench of dried blood tingling my nostrils was the last straw. My limbs gave out and I crumbled to the ground, Erhan's yell the last forlorn lullaby to the darkness that embraced me.

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