Nicolette escorted Iliana back to the Black Tower, as Del had called it, once their meal was finished.

Each step closer seemed to wrap a tighter grip around her heart. A sickness unfurled in her chest, accompanied by the knowledge that once she was back in her cell, there was every chance she would be alone.

Gods, what if Zuher was still forcing them to duel? Was that even possible?

The duke drew to a stop outside of the tower, likely unaware of the panic bubbling to life in Iliana's mind. He released her arm, Nicolette caught her hand, slipped into the barest bow, and laid the chaste kiss of a noble on the back of her hand. She bit back a grimace as the action stuttered her racing heart.

He might have been useful, sharing everything that he had, but that didn't change the scumey feeling his very presence seemed to give her.

He'd killed Aran's father, and likely had a hand in the reaper's death. She couldn't, and wouldn't, forget that.

"Hopefully, you won't be left here much longer," Nicolette said as he straightened, releasing her hand. Iliana focused on his black eyes, urging her body to relax. It wouldn't do to show her disgust. His lips quirked, as if he could read her thoughts. "His Imperial Majesty said he would have a room readied, and he'll want to tell the whole court about his generosity in granting you new quarters. That will hasten the servants' efforts. I doubt it will take more than a day."

Iliana frowned, studying Nicolette's faint smile as her mind dissected his choice of words. 'That wasn't exactly flattering, was it?'

The question was on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't want him to stop talking, so she bit it back. It was better to approach Nicolette's views with the lackadaisical attitude of a court game. So far, he'd been helpful, but that didn't mean he disapproved of Zuher's treatment, or political stance. After all, his family seemed to be benefiting from Zuher's favor.

But then, Ayo had stopped Zuher in the dining hall. Perhaps the family wasn't as loyal as they appeared.

It was a dangerous situation, so she would approach it carefully. Afterall, it wasn't as if she didn't have the time. And, if it turned out there was something behind his approach and attitude, the reward would far outweigh the wait. Iliana didn't have to like the man to use him.

"I will be looking forward to it," Iliana said.

Nicolette laughed quietly and stepped away. He nodded towards the tower door, and Iliana realized that at some point, guards had emerged from the building. No doubt they were her true escort back to the dark.

"Work on your court expressions while you wait," he suggested as he turned away. She scowled as he waved farewell over his shoulder, but didn't look back. "If you cannot fool me, I wouldn't dare dream any of it will work on His Imperial Majesty."

Iliana's temper flared, and she made a rude gesture at his back. One of the guards snorted, but neither said a word beyond nudging her towards the door. She reluctantly complied, the unsteady weight of fear sinking deep within her chest.

The moment she was alone in her cell, her heart felt like it might stop. The silence of the dark felt heavier than ever.

"Del?"

She waited a second before calling again.

Then two minutes. She knew, because she counted each moment in her head as the lack of response needled her fear, driving it deeper into her mind.

When standing at the bars became too much, she sank to the floor, her back sliding along the stone wall that usually blocked them from one another. And, for once, her mind felt free of the usual, old fear that constantly overshadowed it. Instead, it focused on each second, each thud of her heart, that passed in solitude.

Had she done the right thing in leaving them?

Zuher had as much reason to hate Del as he had to be obsessed with her. Iliana had thought that staying together made the situation more volatile, encouraging his sadism, but what if she'd condemned them? By leaving, she'd left Del and Lykos as the sole recipients of his attention.

Zuher won't kill him, she reminded herself.

Del had said it.

His presence was useful. A prince, especially one as important as Del, could be used to bind a country, and Reotak had always desired Cieon's lands.

Then there was Lykos.

She had no clue what made him so important in Zuher's eyes, why he'd bothered to search down a single, runaway slave in the past, and took time to torture him now, but, it was obvious he was. Plus, the way the court whispered about him when they arrived led her to believe he was useful. Lykos got things done--like stealing a siren. There was no reason to kill him. Not over something as trivial as protecting her from dying too easily upon delivery.

Logic didn't make the wait easier.

Nor did reminding herself that it was unreasonable to be so attached to their wellbeing.

Lykos was her captor. He was the one who put her in this situation.

Yet, somehow, those words didn't help as much as they once had. Telling herself that he'd willingly walked into this felt hollow, as she knew it to likely be false. Her hand rubbed at the floral tattoo marring her collar. If Lykos belonged to Zuher, no doubt he held a tattoo somewhere that she hadn't noticed. Otherwise, someone as controlling as the emperor would have never released him after he'd been recovered.

Which begged the question, why hadn't he just been killed upon escape? It was a problem she had no answer for, so for now, she buried it among all the other questionable issues surrounding the wolf. It was a mess. She wished she could throw it all out and go back to simple hatred.

But, no, despite everything, she couldn't dismiss her worry for him. Zuher had something deeper planned with Lykos, and whatever political moves Zuher made now directly affected her future. At least, that's what she told herself, hoping it might ease the hollow ache in her chest that scraped at the dark, heavy emotion she harbored for the mercenary.

Then there was Del. Gods, Del.

They'd known each other for barely any time at all. In the grand scheme of things, Iliana had no reason to feel so strongly about the results of whatever was occuring in that courtyard. He'd even warned her.

And yet.

Their fates felt bound.

He, too, was at the hands of a madman.

Del's soft voice and incessant questions had kept her sane. He was kind enough to lie about the commotion surrounding her nightmare being his doing, and brave enough to taunt Zuher in front of a court of his followers. The affection and worry flooding her chest was too soon, and too heavy, but she couldn't help it. And it was all because of the light he seemed to harbor despite the darkness of the tower.

Was he one of the champions Aatami had spoken of?

Her hand left the tattoo, instead caressing the familiar charms of her anklet. They almost felt warm beneath her fingers, as if it, too, wished she could access whatever magic Koun had gifted her in Nokos. Was Del another thread of fate bound to her by grand scheme? Or was it simpler than that? Was he just someone Zuher had thrown into her path who could be harmed without worry of scarring detracting from his value?

The tower door cracked open and she scrambled to her feet. She didn't dare say word, but each thud of heavy footsteps drove a stake deeper and deeper into her racing heart.

There was a rattle of keys and the thud of something heavy tossed behind the wall, before the door clacked shut and feet retreated upwards once again. Her voice caught in her throat, torn between hope and fear.

Then, a soft groan.

"Del?"

He didn't say anything, but the faintest shuffle of movement seemed to ring affirmation in her ears. It stopped just on the other side of the wall, just as it had done since they met. The silence rang heavy, pulling her head to rest against the wall as her heart continued to run frantic, but at least she was no longer alone.

Del was alive--and here--and for now, that would have to be enough.

┈♔◦𓇣◦☽◦❤◦☾◦𓇣◦♔┈

The next time the door opened, fear struck Iliana for a different reason.

At the time Zuher had announced her change of quarters, Iliana had been too distracted, too relieved, to consider what it meant.

Their wager hadn't accounted for Del.

Thankfully, she didn't have to worry for long. The moment she was out of her cell, she heard the tell-tale scrape of iron as Del's door was also drug open. Someone grunted, and Del groaned. Iliana bit her lip to hold the urge to snap at the guards to be more careful. Who knew what antagonizing them would do?

The moment she'd been marched out of the dark, her adjusting gaze zero'd in on where Del had been tossed over a demon guard's shoulder. Red stained bandages covered nearly every inch of his skin, and his eyes were closed. There wasn't much that could be told without reaching for him, but she didn't want her attention being reported back to Zuher, so Iliana held back.

At least now she could see his chest heaving with each heavy breath he took. It was reconfirmation that, for now at least, he was alive.

Iliana was marched across somewhat familiar courtyards beneath a rapidly dimming sky. The afternoon heat had cooled to a pleasant night, illuminated by a moon that made memorizing their path only a tad more difficult than any other time she'd been led through the confusing palace.

Their destination, she eventually realized, appeared to be another tower. It was the second of the two she'd stared at upon arriving in Chuteros.

Unlike the last, the occasional window decorated the building's stone walls, easing some of the ever-present fear rippling beneath her skin. And, when they stepped inside, she found the first floor to be rich with color. The floor was wood, with a rich rug that carpeted the majority of the room. Two couches faced each other in the center, with a tea table sat against the wall. Familiarity tugged at the back of her mind, pulling up memories of Aeolis.

It was a sitting room. The sort that noble ladies used to entertain visitors.

Aria nudged her towards a stairwell at the back of the room. Iliana complied, but soon regretted how easily she'd stepped onto what appeared to be an endless amount of winding stairs. No matter how many rooms they passed, none appeared to be their destination. Until, eventually, the hall ended at a tall ebony wood panel. Iliana might have called it a door, but it lacked a knob or lock.

The guard pulled a metal rod from her front pocket and pressed it against a metal plate at the center of the panel. It sprung open, and she gestured for Iliana to walk in. Drawing in a deep breath, she walked past Aria to her new cell. Because, that's what it was. No bedroom door she had ever heard of lacked something as simple as a doorknob.

The cell was admittedly rich.

A tall, curtained bed laid in the center of the room. Each sheer white drape was held back by rich, crimson tassels. A chest sat at the foot of the bed, the flat lid decorated by a small statuette. A tea table sat to the left, a massive wardrobe to the right, accompanied by a dark ebony vanity and crystal face basin.

Most important, however, was the detail Iliana noticed as she stepped further into the room. The back wall of the tower was one large, open window seat. A door laid to the right of the seat, leading to the railed balcony the window seat peered out onto. Pillow after pillow had been piled onto the seat, reminding Iliana of the pile in Zuher's office. Was it a personal preference of his, or one that came from whomever had occupied Iliana's position before her?

Regardless, the balcony captured her full attention. She approached the door with slow, cautious steps weighed down by a sudden, all-encroaching numbness.

Beyond what she could see of the railing was nothing but open air.

This was it.

The window prisoners threw themselves from.

Heavy footsteps tore her attention from the window as her escort filed into the room. As if it could bury the window from her mind, Iliana's gaze zero'd in on where Del still hung over a soldier's shoulder. The man in question was spelling something out with his free hand. Whatever he said, Aria shook her head with a heavy sigh. She looked over at the bed, then where Iliana stood at the window, before rubbing at her forehead with her right palm.

"He'll stain wherever we sit him," Aria said. "And, this is your room now. So, I'll ask you. Where would you like him?"

"The bed," Iliana replied without hesitation.

Del had been here so much longer than her. How long had it been since he slept in a bed?

Aria eyed the white sheets with distaste, before shrugging and waving at it with her left hand. The guard dropped Del unceremoniously on the covers, prompting a groan from the prince. His eyelids flickered, but didn't fully open, and Iliana's stomach flipped.

"He--" she broke off, hesitating. If she asked questions about him, it would no doubt be reported. But, if he was being allowed to stay here with her, did it really matter? Zuher seemed to have already decided Del was a useful tool. What further damage could be done by inquiring about him, really? "--did he get treated?"

Aria shrugged, waving the other guards back towards the door. They retreated out into the hall as the woman dropped her hand from her temple. "I don't know. From what I saw, there were no lethal blows in their fight. So, it's unlikely. There are bandages in the vanity, and likely some salve. I would help, but I'm busy. If there is any, the salve will keep things clean, and help it heal faster. Be sparingly with it, though. I'm not sure if His Imperial Majesty will want to replace it."

And with that, the guard left. The door fell shut behind her with a heavy thud, then click. Like before, the inside, too, locked a knob.

Iliana stepped over to the bed as Del's hand dug into the cover. He shoved himself up from the pink-smudged sheets and blinked at their surroundings. The confusion in his face told her he likely had been unaware for most of what happened. Which was concerning.

His eyes found her and flared, first with surprise, then understanding. "The new quarters."

He'd heard the bet?

"I believe so."

He hauled himself to the edge of the bed, prompting Iliana to close the distance left between them. She pushed his shoulder back down as Del attempted to stand. "Stay there."

If it weren't for the situation, the bafflement on his face would've made her laugh.

"I--" he began.

"You nothing," Iliana interrupted. "You've been out of it for gods know how long. You shouldn't stand. At least, not until I've gotten your wounds better tended to."

If the blood on the bed was any indication, whatever first aid he'd gotten had been pitiful at best. It'd been long enough since he'd been dumped in his cell that the blood should have dried--unless something had been too deep to easily scab.

Perhaps he found sense in her words, or was just too weak to fight her, because Del didn't put up a fight. Instead, he simply nodded and slowly laid back down.

"I'm ruining your fancy sheets," he mused.

His tone was dry, but humored. Iliana rolled her eyes as she started for the vanity.

"It's not funny," she grumbled.

Aria hadn't specified a drawer, so she quickly began rifling through all of them. Silence stretched over the seconds before she found a large roll of white cloth and a metal tin. It dug at her, reviving the fear in her veins as she hurried back to Del's side.

His eyes were closed again.

Her hand grasped his shoulder, giving it a gentle shake. "Del?"

He didn't respond.

So, she did the only thing she could--unravel the cloth and pray to Koun as she treated the prince's wounds.

Please, please let me get this right. Don't let me be the one who lets Del die. 

A/N: I'm on time!! Yay me. 

Another slow chapter, but, like I said for the last one, necessary for the set up. Plus, this one had a lot of fun thoughts in it. Hope you guys enjoyed. <3