Nylas and I stayed silent as he watched me swallow the pills. His eyes bounced around my body, analyzing.

"You know, Ilias isn't looking for you."

I looked up at him, at his golden eyes, and muttered, "Of course he is looking for me."

"He's not." He shifted in his seat, adjusting the collar of his tuxedo. "He's been riding around with the legions that are looking for you, but he's not actively looking."

"How would you know? You spend your time tricking my sister." I sighed, leaning back against the leg of a table. "Besides, Sir Blackus never allows guards to go off on their own. It's too dangerous."

Nylas shrugged. "If I was him, and I just lost the woman I love, I'd find her, one way or another. And I wouldn't give a damn about orders."

"Ilias can't break orders. His life is the Guard. He wouldn't betray them for my sake, and I wouldn't want him to." I swallowed, holding back the burning sensation in my throat. "I need to put my feelings aside."

"You can think with your head and your heart, Princess. Sometimes that's the only way to think to keep yourself from going insane." Nylas got out of his chair and walked over to me. "All choices require logic and emotion."

He held out his hand. There was not one imperfection on him. Perfect palms, smooth skin, a handsome face. Regal. Elegant. Such a perfect disguise, but such an easy target. I held onto his hand, wincing when I soon found out it wasn't calloused or rough.

"Why are you not a fighter like Ashe and Henneh?" I asked.

"Such wonderful questions you're asking today," the voice in my head spoke. "Maybe one day you'll ask me such things."

Could I even talk to that obnoxious voice in my head?

"Because," he started, staring off at the bright afternoon sky, "I cannot."

"Why not?" I pushed.

"I'm Prodos's heir; I can't put my life at risk. I'm surprised Ashe can." Nylas widened his eyes, then added. "I have my reasons."

"Seems like he has a bit of a tongue, Arya. I suggest you stay away from him," the voice warned.

"Like Irene?" I bit back.

He left the tent, and I followed behind.

"Answer me."

He stopped in his tracks, turning back to look at me. "Yes."

"You care for my sister that much? That you're willing to give up your freedom for her life?" I kept walking, not stopping for him, nor anyone that I saw along the trail.

Nylas came up next to me, his back straight and shoulders squared. "You would, too," he said.

"I wonder how he noticed? Nylas really is too observant for his own good. Perhaps you could strip down naked and he'd notice that as well, if you're lucky."

I ignored the voice and the obvious sarcasm in it.

I had no idea where I was walking. I noticed that as soon as I wound up back at my tent.

"Ashe will train you as soon as he comes back, Princess," Nylas said, bowing before he left, his cane indenting the ground he walked on more than his shoes.

Oh, whatever. As much as I hated it, I knew that no one would trust me alone for fear that I'd run out of Kampa and somehow find my way back to the Palace of Ambré. Little did they know that I had never even seen the damned world.

I was damned either way. If I escaped, I'd have no idea where I'd run to, or what direction, and if I stayed... well, I wasn't quite sure what would happen.

The tent across mine rustled, and Avaloryn stepped out, her face contorted in a quiet smile. Then she saw me and scowled. "Ah, you."

"Yes, me," I replied.

"Who thought it was a good idea to put you in front of me?" Avaloryn rolled her eyes, sighing. "Whatever. I'm having a decent day, and you're not going to ruin it."

"I think I could," I started. "Where's Kallia?"

The glare that she gave me froze my muscles in its spot.

"Saints, have mercy on me. Don't test my patience," Avaloryn muttered. "Quit looking at me."

"It's proper manners to look at someone's eyes when speaking to them, Avaloryn? After all, I am a well-mannered princess." I craned my neck back, watching as she started to braid her hair with the gradual redness rising up her neck.

"I think we're passed the point of mannerism, Valarya," she said, looking at me from the cracks of her blonde hair. "You really do want to die, don't you?"

"Depends on how." I sat on the chair outside my tent entrance. "Will you get your charcoal arrows and burn me with them, or will you get Kallia to smother me with a pillow while I'm asleep?" Avaloryn paused braiding, slowly looking up at me with narrowed eyes. "The question is: Why would Kallia be in my tent in the first place, Avaloryn? Maybe she's bored and looking for a bit of entertainment."

"You're 'entertaining' me quite well," Avaloryn snarled, tying off her braid.

I shrugged. I tried holding in my grin, but I knew I failed when I saw Avaloryn's fists curl. "I do have a knack for entertainment."

"Did you decide that before or after you saw me come out of my tent?" She crossed her arms, her teeth flashing when she gave me a smile. Pointed teeth.

"Before. I save my other talents for afterwards. You can't let all your talents show at once, Avaloryn." I dug my palms onto my knees, hoisting myself up. "You have to keep your options open, which is what I suggest you do."

"Damn, you are quite the entertainer. I wish I have some licorice to chew while I witness this." I could've sworn I heard a bit of amusement behind that voice.

"You brat," Avaloryn spat.

"You're mad that I'm giving you advice?" I questioned.

"You know exactly what you're doing, you devious little princess."

Oh, I did.

I grasped onto her shoulders, pulling her gently closer.

"Let go of me."

"Are you going to look for poor little Kallia?" I responded. She looked at my eyes, the green and blues twisting in fury. "Go on. I've said what I wanted to say."

Avaloryn threw my hands off her shoulders. "I don't care about Kallia."

I couldn't hold back my laugh.

"Quit that!" Avaloryn yelled. "I don't! I don't care about Kallia at all—"

"Are you sure you're not the entertainer, Avaloryn?" I said, gasping for air as I kept laughing.

"Devious little demon. I wonder what else you can do, Arya."

Avaloryn walked away, too infuriated to keep a conversation with me. I, like the obedient little demon I am, sat back down on the chair and rolled my shoulders back, proud that I had listened during diplomatic meetings.

I didn't have to make sense. I just had to infuriate the other enough for them to give up. Avaloryn will remember what I said, and how she was a love-sick puppy for a woman that didn't give two damns about the world, or about her. It would be a matter of time before Kallia slapped her across the face and woke her up from her delusions.

Meanwhile, I'd just sit back and observe. I warned her. Avaloryn was smart; she'd take what I said and put it into her head.

All I had to do was be patient. Soon. I just had to be obedient, and they'd let me out eventually. But I couldn't believe that it was easy staying here.

I found myself, dare I think, enjoying it. I enjoyed testing my limits with Avaloryn; or having Henneh bicker with anyone within a certain radius; or Rysdan, who was the one person that I got along with to some extent. 

Some days were longer than others, I'd admit. But I hadn't realized I'd been in this city, a prisoner of sorts, for weeks.

"Valarya, get up," someone said from down the trail. I glanced and saw Ashe, his black leather glistening in the evening light. "We need to train."