Iliana paced for what felt like hours.

The door to the bed, the bed to the balcony, then back again as the course changed nothing. Her fingers drummed against the skirt of her uselessly ornate gown. Panic strangled her chest, muffling her breaths until they felt as shallow as her patience.

They had to be discussing the fallout of Mara's actions.

Alekos' death, Melitta's assassination, Taisol's promise--all of it would be significant to Zuher. She bit her cheek as anxiety--and something else, something she couldn't place--muddled her mind, making pulling her thoughts together like fumbling across a fogged deck.

What impact would those events have on her? On Del?

Del was the crown prince of Cieon, not Eol. He had nothing to do with Alekos' death and Taisol's order of succession.

Kain.

The realization lodged in her chest as Iliana's foot caught on the doorframe. She pitched forward, scrambling for her balance as something on the gown ripped. Strangled swears escaped her lips as her knees hit the floor with an audible thud, sending lances of pain up the length of her legs.

She didn't get up. She couldn't. Her mind was too much of a mess to guide her hands anywhere but where they'd curled into fists against the floor.

It was knowledge she hadn't touched since pieces of Melitta's memories had flooded her mind. Because, in the end, it felt wrong. Like something she shouldn't have heard because of some godly magic, but instead out of his mouth.

But, Iliana had heard Taisol's words through Melitta's ears. "Place my child on this throne, Kain, and when you one day know your own, I will acknowledge you."

She wasn't stupid. Nor was she ignorant of how these things worked.

The gods didn't remove famed bloodlines from a throne just because they favored a sailor. Because, ultimately, most kingdoms were led by someone favored by one, if not more, of the pantheon. Removing them on a whim could start a war between gods. Which meant, logically, if Taisol was offering to support Kain in a claim for a throne...Kain was royalty. Or, related to royalty.

There was a story Mara had told her once.

It'd been a simple legend just like any other tale children liked. It talked about a princess of a foreign land who fell in love with a hero of the sea. Despite having been sworn into Umae's temple at a young age, and her lover's immortality, she longed to start a family with the man. Luckily, their shared god was kind and blessed them with a child outside the laws of the land.

It was the same legend Del had talked to her of. A tale of a boy born from love, who died before his first breath. Of a child who was so loved by his mother, that she made a journey across the sea to defy the gods by reviving him with a relic only previously used to return breath to the bodies of heroes.

A child who had been cursed to the sea before his first birthday, because of Shinnah and Doroi's anger, and Umae's sympathetic, protective blessing.

Kain, who resembled Del so strongly, had a shock of white hair--the color of death. Her travels with him had been wrought with occasional nightmare attacks. Then, on Inna's Cove, and even on Lykos' ship, the nightmares had swarmed.

It had to be him...didn't it?

Which meant, the reason for the meeting had to be Taisol's promise in Zuher's ears. Iliana could feel her heart threatening to break free of her chest as too many things, too many pains and panic, created a drumline behind her ribs.

Del would die.

Perhaps not that night, or even the next week. But, soon, Del would die. With a god promising Kain Cieon's throne, all of Del's worth as a hostage had been stolen away.

And she couldn't stop it.

┈♔◦𓇣◦☽◦❤◦☾◦𓇣◦♔┈

The panic didn't fade.

It suffocated her until her knees were numb. Until the moon's lingering glow disappeared from the window, leaving her in a cold shadow. Eventually, however, she forced herself to function through it.

Iliana peeled herself off of the tower floor and with the indentations of priceless jewels coloring her skin, she attempted to remove the dress. The complicated laces and ties proved too much, however, to handle alone, so she found a pair of scissors and that was that. Expensive, sheer fabric, it turned out, was extremely easy to cut.

She'd pay for that.

Not now, though, while Zuher was so distracted. And in the moment that was all that mattered. That and shedding her corset so she could gasp in bone-deep breaths. Typically, the firm bite of a corset didn't bother her lungs, but bubbling hysterics tended to change that. Her shoulders tensed with each shuddered breath taken in an attempt to ward off waves of unreasonable, twisting emotion.

Del being at risk of death was nothing new. He, himself, had told her it would happen. She had no reason to melt down because of it. She didn't know him--not really. They'd interacted for what, one month? Two? Calm down.

Her shaking hands shed everything but her shift, before she dropped face first into the bed. Fingers curled into the sheets as she buried herself in one of the pillows. A soft scent of spice invaded her nose.

Gods, was she about to cry?

Why?

Because the pillow smelled like that cologne they doused him in for events? Because it summoned the smile he'd been wearing only moments before everything fell to shit again? She could see it--the subtle, twist of his lips as he mused over shared stories. The curl of his fingers around his wine glass, the glimmer in his eyes.

Pain settled in her chest. Something clicked.

Bleeding fates, Iliana was stupid. There was no other answer for the lingering realization now slowly sinking claws into the very depths of her being.

The heat of lingering touches. The warmth in expressions. The desire to be close. The fear. The comfort. Iliana might not have experienced such sensations before, but she knew of them. She'd witnessed it in the initial devotion Mara's eyes had held before marriage. In the occasion, lingering looks Artemios would share with a certain woman that he sometimes met at port. She'd read of it in books. Seen it in blushing maids.

It was far, far too soon, but...she liked him, didn't she?

She liked the mischievous, storied nobleman who teased his guard and doted on his much older sister. The devoted husband, looking after a woman who couldn't be bothered to turn his way. The careful prince, dedicated to a falling kingdom.

The man who spoke of colors and comforts--who taunted death, as if he had multiple lives to live.

He didn't.

Del had warned her numerous times.

But, nevertheless, as she curled into his scent and forced her racing heart to calm, the truth drew in like a relentless tide that couldn't, wouldn't be denied.

And so, she waited. Hoping against hopes that tonight, at least, wouldn't be that day.

┈♔◦𓇣◦☽◦❤◦☾◦𓇣◦♔┈

Iliana knew the moment she fell asleep--because, within the second, she was no longer alone.

Instead, she stood amongst a vast, open field. The midnight sky was bright in the way only a country-side moon could illuminate it, with countless constellations she couldn't spy from her Reotakian balcony. And there, with a sword in his hands and his tunic drenched in sweat, was Callias.

The seconds ticked by as each detail sank in. His feet flew through a complicated dance, akin to something she'd only seen Kain perform up until that moment. To her unskilled eyes, he looked dangerous--captivating. Then, the moment was over as he swept his foot through one, final twisting arc, before dropping his blade to his side as his chest heaved. His head cocked as his free hand rose to shove a few, escaped locks of his braided hair away from his face. Had he heard something? Was that why he stopped?

There was no enemy as far as she could see. Instead, merely an occupied camp a few dozen feet away from his location, alongside the not-so-distant shape of what had to be the Shinde Mountains. Someone--Dalphie, perhaps?--stood guard next to their horses, but Iliana didn't bother to look closer. Not when there were more important questions to be answered.

Why did she keep dreaming of him? Was it because of Melitta's wish that she not be alone? Or, was it something more?

And why was he scrutinizing an empty plain as if it had personally wronged him?

Before she could begin to come up with answers, Callias seized the bottom of his tunic and tugged it up to swipe at his brow. Very pointedly not looking at the exposed skin--because, gods, he didn't even know she was there--Iliana studied his face.

He looked better than when she'd last seen him. Still sallow, still sporting heavy circles under his eyes, but...not as lifeless. Not drunk--at least, not heavily. If the buzz shifting through her veins was any indication, he wasn't utterly sober, but at least he could stand. That was an improvement.

"Now you just need to sleep," she informed him.

Callias' shoulders drew taunt as he dropped his tunic. Impossibly, he glanced around again, as if something of her scolding had reached him. Biting her lip, Iliana drew closer. Because, hadn't he called her name before? What had she done then? Touched him?

She reached for his shoulder. "Callia--"

The field was gone.

She was in the white. But, not alone. Instead, facing her with wide, alarmed eyes, was Callias. Near immediately, he jerked back from her hand. His attention darted about, fingers clenching around the hilt of his sword.

"Iliana? Where--"

"Somewhere in-between," she interrupted, shock somehow turning her voice calm despite how her heart threatened to burst from her chest. "Koun created it. Or, modified it. I'm not really sure."

Callias stared in a way that made her feel as if she'd started spouting gibberish. "An in-between."

A headache threatened to form in her temple as she realized just how bad of a conversation this was to try and approach while he was intoxicated. Still, she had to try. Because, gods, if whatever this was enabled them to talk, to see one another maybe they wouldn't have to die--neither her, or Del. No madness. No waiting without certainty of rescue. She could tell them where she was, she could tell them of the guards, the pathways and the events of the season.

Then, she'd just have to ensure they survived until help arrived.

It was possible. She could distract Zuher, surrender her pride if it meant Del's life.

"Koun created it," she repeated. "He called it a gift, in trade for...well, a lot of things. You--" How did she verify this was real? That it wasn't just a dream? "Where are you?"

Callias' brow knitted. His clear surprise faded into that familiar, guardedly even expression she had associated with him while they traveled together. It was as annoying to see as it was comforting.

At the same time, it did nothing to hide the foreign stress she could feel hanging in the air between them. It would seem that, despite them being face-to-face, her insight into Callias' emotional state was as clear as it ever was for the focus of her dreams.

"A week out from Sol," he answered. "We should reach the mountains soon."

Iliana crossed her arms, fingers curling into her forearms as if that could calm the suddenly bubbling panic in her chest. Gods. That put them nearly two months away. What did it matter that they could talk, if they were that far away?

"I think he's going to kill Del."

Callias blinked. Then, blinked again. She couldn't blame him for his confusion--without context, the announcement had to sound odd. Really, she shouldn't have said anything. It wasn't as if her fear could make the distance easier to cross. Iliana blamed him and the stupid alcohol.

"Del..." he echoed slowly. She felt the moment it clicked--his surprise growing, and twisting into something infinitely more complicated. "The crown prince? He's alive?"

Oh.

"Is he not supposed to be?"

He grimaced. "Not according to the Eolian court. He's presumed killed in action."

Zuher truly planned to kill him, then. Otherwise, what was the point in a political hostage their kingdom thought potentially dead? She could feel the panic building stronger, heavier in her chest, but--oddly enough--it was overcome in a second by foreign concern as Callias raised his free hand towards her, before pausing and dropping it.

Was that sudden misplaced tide of self-loathing his or hers? She couldn't tell.

Still, it washed over her senses in a flood as he sheathed his sword. "This world, whatever it is, isn't a part of the bond. It isn't supposed to work like this."

The bond. Was that what this was?

It clicked, then. Melitta's memories, the sudden change in how the connection between them functioned. The strength of his emotions--the fact she could feel the alcohol in his veins as if she had been the one to drink it.

The fact they were standing face-to-face.

"I once heard Aion tell Koun that magic twists when used in ways it shouldn't be," Iliana told him slowly. "This...isn't how your bond, or mine, are supposed to be. Perhaps that is a part of this."

With that thought lingering in her mind, Iliana's eyes dropped from Callias for the first time since they entered the space. She looked to her charms, before squatting and reaching for the red string that led away from the triskele. She could feel, rather than see, the surprise that surged through him in that moment. Had he been too caught up in her, as well, to take in the scenery?

"What is that?" he questioned, then continued within a heartbeat. "Red thread...is it a string of fate?"

How was it that he recognized it so easily? Iliana glanced up as her fingers lingered around the thread. Impulsive honesty leapt to her tongue. "I think so. Koun said it binds me to you and others."

Callias' eyes narrowed. "Others?"

Well, if she'd started, she might as well explain everything. So, she did.

She talked about the dreams that had begun all the way back on the mercenary ship. Of how Koun had appeared to her throughout Eol, alongside Aion. How she had seen things she shouldn't have. How they blessed her.

The only thing she didn't share was Melitta. Guilt surged along her spine, but she couldn't help it. She'd tell him at a time when he didn't look two seconds from shattering. It was obvious he knew there was more to it from the way he studied her, silently, but he didn't press her. Still uneasy, her free hand rose to play with the fox charm at her neck, only to still as the second she touched it the red thread lit with color. Violet and sea-blue intertwined with the red to the point that if Iliana hadn't seen it solidly a moment before, she might have assumed it belonged.

And, stretching from the distance where she knew the black silhouette would lay, was a long, identical thread that ended at Callias' heart.

"What is it?"

Iliana blinked, tearing her eyes from the connected thread to the man's face. "Can you see it?"

"Nothing has changed, if that's what you're asking," Callias answered slowly. "But, I can tell it has for you."

Her breath caught. Did the shared emotions go two ways?

Suddenly, Iliana wanted to strangle the gods. The last thing she needed was Callias of all people prying into her mind.

"I--"

"Ah. You two are together--that makes this easier." 

A/N: Have a Monday chapter to make up for me taking a random month-long hiatus.