34.

PRESENT DAY

Screaming didn't really help Lotte, but she did it anyway. It may have hurt the prince's ears, but his arms held her firmly and he made no signs of letting go.

With every flap of his wings, she could feel the sky dragon inside him, circling, always circling, never still. It hadn't been like that with Blue.

The trip was over in mere moments when the Dragon Heir hurtled them through the open window of one of the towers, depositing her on the stone floor.

"Talking in private doesn't include manhandling," Lotte snapped.

"You earned that," he said with a slight roll of his eyes, as he ambled towards...

Lotte looked around herself. It was a round room with several windows, a worn grey stone floor and a hearth fixed into the ground. There were expensive rugs on the floor, with cushions scattered by the hearth. On the far end was a gigantic round bed with heavy white curtains embroidered with a silver cubic pattern.

This was definitely a bedroom.
It looked different, more solid, but it was also Blue's tower room.

Prince Fintan was watching her closely. Then he put on that sneer again. She hated that sneer on that face. She hated her he used Blue's face.

"This is my bedroom," he said. "And you've been here before."

She didn't know what to do. Rowan had told her to give him what he wanted but not show him the mark on her chest. What did he want? He looked like he hated her.

He took a step towards her. "Speak."

She looked away. She couldn't bear that expression. "It was only a dream."

"Only a dream?" he asked, icy fury and naked malice. "Only a dream? Half-breed, you expect me to believe something like that?"

Lotte's throat felt tight, as if she might cry. "I don't know what you think happened."

He advanced and she backed away. She didn't know how sorcery worked, but it was probably more immediate than enchantment.

"You speak Vitulos surprisingly well for someone who lived in Raidox her whole life."

"My Poe taught me. He also taught me elvish."

"Your Poe? Who? Vanshu?"

Lotte blinked up at Fintan, finding him imposingly close. "Who?"

He laughed drily at her question. "Vanshu doesn't speak Vitulos."

"I don't know who this Vanshu is," Lotte said. "But how about you tell me what exactly you want from me?"

He pushed her against the wall, and suddenly there was a knife at her throat and a deadly gleam in his cold sapphire eyes. "What are you doing in my head?" he demanded. "What are you doing in my dreams? Who are you, really? Which one of them sent you? Was it Briaad? Or maybe Akeaf?"

Lotte pushed the knife aside. To her surprise, he wasn't holding it with much conviction. "You remember the dreams?" she asked, feeling ashamed at the hope that wormed its way into her voice.

"I'm the one asking the questions here."

"I've got no way of answering these questions," she said. "I'm really who I am. A Leilan Lotte enchantress. My story is as you've heard it. Everything is true. I did everything with enchantments. The train, the Rugar, even my command of your language. Enchantments and more enchantments. I'm more powerful than I've ever known. It was all me, except the dreams."

"The dreams—"

"I don't have that ability and you know that. I wouldn't be able to enchant anything if I wasn't at least half elf. Elves can't walk in dreams and neither can humans. Can virata do it? I don't know. I didn't know anything about sorcery until today."

He dropped the knife to the floor, pointing his finger at her. "I've already caught you at one lie, I'll catch you in more."

She flicked away his hand and walked towards the stairs.

"Where are you going? We're not done."

Before descending two stairs, she turned around to look at him. "All that talk about getting someone to seduce me and then you act like a brute and take me to your bedroom?" She shook her head. "That's not the way into my heart, you should know that."

She turned to leave. He rushed towards her—he was ridiculously fast—and tugged at her wrist, forcing her to turn.

She would've pulled her hand away. She would've, if not for his expression. For once, she saw something familiar in his eyes, a flicker of someone she met before.
"I don't really remember what happened in the dreams," he said in a low voice. "I only remember..."
He kissed her. She wished he didn't feel and taste like Blue. She wished her heart didn't do a mad dance. She wished she didn't step back into the room and mould into his arms, letting the heat of the moment rise.
Someone cleared their throat behind them. Fintan jumped back so violently, he nearly pushed her down the stairs.

"You're highness," said Monthes. "You know the girl for a total of five minutes. This is highly inappropriate."

Lotte stepped away, face burning. "I'll..."

"I was wondering when the hounds would arrive," Fintan said drily. "Have someone take her back to her room."

"She's already gone." She heard Monthes reply as she ran down the stairs.

"Then go after her make sure she doesn't get lost on her way to her room, you imbecile."

It didn't take long for someone to find her. It wasn't Monthes, it was a different virata, an old looking one, driving one of those floating chariots.

She was deposited in her room without a word. The door of the suite was intact even though she was sure Prince Fintan had smashed it down when he came in.

"Are you alright?" Rowan pounced at her the moment she was inside, grabbing her hands. "Did he hurt you? I was so worried."

"I'm alive," Lotte said weakly. "I'm..." She felt woozy with exhaustion.

"Come on," Rowan said, guiding her into her bedroom. "You've done all the surviving today. Time to get some rest."

Lotte didn't remember much after that. She fell into a light, troubled sleep where she kept hearing Prince Fintan in the back of her mind. He wasn't speaking with anyone. He was trying to sleep too, rolling around in his big round bed.

One time, she saw him staring right at her. But when he reached for her, she fell into a deeper darkness.

"I thought you'd never wake up!" Maloru exclaimed when she finally walked out of the room. He was lounging in the sitting area alone.
Lotte settled in next to him with a sigh. She felt unusually different this morning but it was still nice to be next to him.

"Look," he said. "They delivered some breakfast and a note."

Lotte poked at the already cold porridge and devoured the omelette. She hadn't had a single thing to eat last night and hadn't realised how hungry she was until she found food.

"I'm going to meet the dragon king's Yomi enchantress today," she said after reading the note. "And..."

"And what?"

"They're preparing my debut in court. It's the day after tomorrow."

"Debut? That's a weird term to use..."

"Why?"

"I thought debuts were those high society balls where girls announce they're ready for marriage like...like show-horses?"

Lotte cringed. "That's probably just the human version of that. Humans are obsessed with the concept of marriage."

"Are you sure virata aren't the same?"

"I'm hoping they're not." She put down the letter, looking around. "Any idea where Rowan is?"

Maloru frowned straightening. "I was about to ask you the same thing. She wasn't here when I woke up."

***
5 YEARS BEFORE THE WAR

Lotte was changed after Rej's death. She looked the same when she stared in the mirror, but her whole body was filled with an uneasy energy.

She took to drawing again, mostly pencils sketches. When she touched her colours, there was darkness in her works that had never been there before. Even when she drew what she saw with her eyes, shadows were deep and the mood sombre.
She became less interested in enchantments, or doing her house chores, or talking at all. She spent hours in sullen silence.

Poe observed her behaviour with his quiet grace, but he didn't say anything. She didn't get a scolding from him. It was like he didn't really care.

He never said anything. It annoyed her that he didn't offer more of himself. Didn't he feel anything? He pretended to be close and personable, but there was a detachment to him. Not that she wanted his input, of course. It would have been annoying if he gave her unsolicited advice.

Yet, at the same time it was annoying that he didn't.

That was how she spent her time, day after day, growing more cross and contrary and not even sure why this was happening.

Then, instead of loving things, Lotte began to feel that there was a lot she hated. Humans were top of her list, especially cultists. She hated them so much, she could turn vicious at the thought of the things she'd do to them. But she hated elves, too. They created the Nahilan beliefs regarding Lotte. It was them who created Lotte in the first place. Why would they even have relations with humans in that way if they couldn't bear the consequences?

It was a wretched time for her. Her thoughts made her ill. Hate pulsed through her veins, in brimmed in her heart, a poison that darkened her dreams.

"Come, sulsylnan. We are going out of the city." It was early morning, not yet light.

Lotte dressed and accepted the plate of breakfast he had prepared for her. She was still civil enough for a polite thanks, and hungry even at this early hour.

Poe hoisted a large bag over his shoulder, and then they were out of the house, the pre-dawn air pleasantly cool against her face. Normally, Lotte of the past would've asked where they were going, but surly Lotte of the present assumed she'd discover when they get there.

A tram, two trains and a hike through the wilderness later, the sun was high in the sky when they reached the place.

It was an odd place. There was a raised circle of rock surrounded by a trench. "Force is Leilan magic at its most basic form," Poe told her in elvish. "Today, we will practice..."
He paused, watching her.

"What?" she asked drily.

"I used to come here," he said in a quiet, contemplative voice. "When frustrated. I had much frustration, as do you. This is a good place to practice explosion enchantments."

Despite her insistence not to be, she was immediately curious.

He set a branch on the centre of the stone circle and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. "This is the design. Take some time to study it." He set down an ink bottle and a brush. "Any ink with magical conductivity will work, as this is as simple and natural as creating fire."

Lotte looked at the design for a long moment and then reached for the brush. Poe put his hand over hers. "You will have enough time to finish the enchantment and run into the trench before the explosion, but do not hesitate."

Then he moved back and lightly hopped into the trench. Lotte picked up the brush.

BOOM. The first explosion left sawdust on the stone circle. The sound echoed satisfyingly throughout the silent woods. Next they tried a rock, and an acorn, then a great big tree stump.

With every explosion, something inside her eased. A sense of calm she hadn't felt in weeks spread through her.

"Why do I even exist?" Lotte suddenly asked while they hiked through the twilight woods towards the train station. "Nobody wants me. Why did they...why did they do it?"

"I cannot speak for others," Poe said. "I did not create you. But nevertheless, I'm glad you're here, sulsylnan."

"I hate them," Lotte announced. "I hate my parents...whoever they were."

"Perhaps," Poe said, which was such an annoying thing to say that Lotte nearly roared. But then he added, "They may well deserve your hate, sulsylnan. But you...do you deserve the pain of hating?"