Despite Maka's proclamation, peace was not to be found immediately. Two days after the alistair ceremony, news came of a skirmish at the avian and serpent boundary. Forces from the serpiente palace quickly brought the situation under control, though not quickly enough to prevent any loss of life. Kim's sister had been part of the avian rebel force, and so she requested leave in order to make arrangements and mourn, which Maka quickly granted. It was with a heavy heart that she spoke to her guard — she had hoped that declaring the war over would also mean the end of conversations like this. But perhaps that had been naive of her.

Soul and Maka made arrangements to alternate weeks between the Keep and the serpiente palace, so both peoples could meet with their leaders while avoiding accusations of favoring one land over another. They were accompanied by three from the Royal Flight and three from the palace guard. Black*Star handpicked the avians, making sure to assign those who would be vigilant of Maka's safety and any potential threats, while still loyal to her orders and careful about picking a fight with the serpiente. Maka hoped Anya had been as discerning in making her selections from the palace guard, but the poisonous glances she kept shooting Maka didn't make her particularly optimistic.

Despite their conversation on the balcony, Soul and Maka didn't spend a lot of time together, nor did they speak with any great frequency. Both were busy putting out fires within their own courts, and hardly had any opportunity to discuss their new alliance. At the Keep, Maka continued to deal with petitions from her people, though the requests for aid against the serpiente fell to near nonexistent levels. When such a request was made, Maka forwarded the complaint to Soul, who directed it on to the serpiente guards, who were much more efficient in policing their own than any outside force.

While Soul met with his own people, Maka took the opportunity to explore the serpiente palace, remembering how disorienting it had been the first few times she'd been inside. She made sure to keep her knife strapped to her hip as she always did, as Soul had warned her of the many dark corners and halls where ambush might be found.

She meticulously explored and mapped the various wings she found, including the kitchens, storerooms, guardrooms, infirmary, and multiple courtyards. It was interesting to compare the designs favored by the serpiente to the styles favored by the avian. Where large windows and open rooms were plentiful at the Keep, the serpiente seemed to prefer darker, more enclosed spaces. It reminded her a little of a snake's den - unsurprising, considering the residents.

Occasionally, she would run into a serpent during her explorations. If she was accompanied by a member of the Royal Flight, the encounter would be nothing more than a murmured deference as they passed by quickly, but if Maka was alone, she found it was much more likely for them to stop and approach her. They were not surprised to see her, as it was expected for their Naga to reside close by, rather, most seemed impressed that she dared to walk alone and among them. Overall, the atmosphere of the palace was one of warmth, something she would not have predicted given her first foray inside.

One afternoon, she stumbled into an open air courtyard that backed up against the palace, opening the space up into a market much like the one found at the Keep. Stalls occupied by vendors, merchants, and artisans lined each side of the courtyard, selling anything and everything one might desire. Faint music trickled through the air, leading Maka to a makeshift stage in the corner of the courtyard, where a lithe dancer clothed in loose, shimmering fabric was engaged in a hypnotic dance. She was accompanied by two musicians, one who provided the rhythm on a pair of beautifully crafted drums, and the other providing a lilting melody using a painstakingly hand carved flute.

The dancer was young, with wide dark eyes and silky black hair that fell to her waist. Her movements were incredibly precise, and yet she flowed with a grace that seemed otherworldly. When she finished, the rapt audience she had gathered burst into rapturous applause. She conversed with them for a few moment afterward, offering easy smiles and sparkling laughter.

As she approached Maka, the only thing she could think to say was, "That was incredible."

The serpent smiled, a gentle, kind thing. "That was Maeve's dance, from the Namir-da." she said. "I will perform again here on midsummer's night, for those who cannot watch the dance inside, in the synkal." She nodded to the palace behind them, then pursed her lips. "Or I might dance in the synkal this year, since Soul cannot."

"Why not?"

The dancer gave a tinkling laugh. "Because a mated man does not dance the Namir-da with another woman, and I don't believe you know the steps, hawk." She shrugged, a casual, easy motion. "Soul danced last year with Anya, which is why we were so surprised to see that he had chosen you. Their pairing had always been natural." She shrugged again.

Something deep in Maka's gut twisted uncomfortably. So here was the reason for Anya's unending hatred. Maka had known from Camille that the two had been close, but she hadn't quite realized how far that went. Skies knew it was nearly impossible to glean any information from Soul…

The dancer didn't seem to notice Maka's discomfort. She turned to climb back on the stage, but paused as she pulled herself to sit on the edge. She leaned over, her hair spilling forward to frame her pale face. "I do not know whether a hawk could learn the Namir-da, but I should like to teach you, if you are willing to learn."

Maka spluttered. "I'm not much of a dancer."

The serpent cocked her head, scanning Maka with a careful eye. "You are a fighter, are you not? We have heard many stories of the fierce, unyielding hawk who would do anything for her people. The one who fights as easily as she breathes. That grace is something you already have." She paused, considering. "Perhaps you cannot move as a serpent does, but I should like to try and teach you. Come by later, hawk, and we shall learn together." With that, she stood, her hair settling like a midnight backdrop behind her. She clasped her hands together, her eyes sliding shut, and as the musicians started a new melody, she slipped into a new dance.

Maka watched her bemusedly for a few moments more, then turned to wander again through the open air market, all the while turning over the dancer's words in her mind. She had thoroughly enjoyed watching the dancer perform, and a small part of her even wondered if she might be able to replicate the steps. But she reminded herself that dancing meant an audience, and not just any audience, but one filled with serpiente watching her attempt something so ingrained in their culture… she shuddered a little to think of it.

Thinking on it made her restless, so Maka decided to retreat to what she knew — training. She'd stumbled across an archery range deep in the bowels of the palace, and while she had trained with an avian bow before, she was curious to get her hands on and practice with a serpiente bow.

Avian archers were primarily concerned with delivering the poison they coated their arrows with rather than the arrows themselves, and as such their bows were designed for speed and distance. After all, it only took a scratch to fell a serpentine soldier. In contrast, serpiente bows were much larger and stiffer, designed to penetrate tissue as deeply as possible. No doubt it would be more difficult to wield, but Maka had always relished a challenge in the training ring.

She wound her way through the palace hallways, her steps more assured than they had been a few weeks ago. She came to an intersection in the hallway and paused as she caught sight of two people tucked into a dark alcove. Maka would have moved on, sure that whatever was going on was none of her business, when their hushed argument drifted towards her.

"-don't see why this is necessary-"

"Don't see why… Anya, you can't be serious."

Maka stopped in her tracks. That was Soul's voice coming from the alcove, and yes, that was Anya he was arguing with. Maka bit her lip as she debated, then slunk back a few steps so she was hidden around the corner.

Anya tossed her hair over her shoulder, one hand cocked on her hip. "Of course I'm serious. This whole charade is unnecessary."

"The war is over. In the past few weeks we've had no battle, no deaths - this was are only real shot at peace, and it's working. How can you say this was unnecessary?"

"We could have figured something out," Anya said stubbornly. "To go behind all our backs and invite her into our home…" She shook her head in disgust. "You've opened us up to attack."

Soul spread his arms wide. "And yet none has come. They're just as willing to work for this as we are. What will it take to make you see that?"

Anya ignored the question. "It's sickening, to see her prance around here like she owns the place, when she knows nothing about us and our culture. She doesn't belong in the position of Naga."

"And what, you do?" Soul challenged. He crossed his arms. "I know what your aspirations were, Anya. You were never subtle about them."

"Why should I have been?" she shot back. "Your mother made it no secret-"

"My stepmother," Soul said through gritted teeth. "Not me. That's always been your problem, Anya. Always thinking you know best without bothering to ask anyone else involved."

Anya shook her head. "Alright, fine, so maybe I overstepped." Her tone softened, and she reached out to touch Soul's arm. "But can you honestly say you're happy in this arrangement, Soul? Whatever you think about me, I still know you. I've watched you over these past few weeks, and I'm worried."

"What I feel, what I want, doesn't matter."

The words were like an arrow to Maka's gut. Did he truly feel that way? She knew their pairing would be a burden, a sacrifice, to the both of them, but was it really taking such a toll on Soul?

"Soul." Anya's voice was low enough that Maka was starting to have trouble hearing her. "That's not true. You deserve good things, too."

Maka couldn't make out Soul's reply, which was probably a good thing - she'd eavesdropped for far too long. Before either of them could leave the alcove and discover her, she backed up slowly, then headed back down the hall she was in. Her restless desire to train now quenched, she wandered the halls aimlessly, being careful to avoid the wing of the palace she'd just been in.

Anya's words gnawed at Maka, both at the way she'd spoken about Maka, and the way she'd spoken to Soul. Maka knew now that the guard would never warm to her, and she'd stolen the title Anya believed had been rightfully hers. The familiarity with which she'd spoken to Soul, the tender words… she had known him for a long time, had cared for him, and knew that Soul was unhappy. Maka feared this was her fault, but had no idea how to rectify it, or even why this bothered her so much.

Her steps took her closer towards the residences, and it was here that she ran into Camille, who was bracing herself against the wall as she took careful, measured breaths.

Maka hurried to her side. "Are you alright? Should I call for someone?"

Camille shook her head. "I'm fine, just a bit of a dizzy spell." Maka offered her arm and helped lead Camille the few steps it took to get to her room and sitting in a chair by a low tea table. "These happen, sometimes, because of the baby. It's nothing serious, I promise."

Maka, who had never spent much time along pregnant women, looked doubtful.

Camille laughed. "I just shooed away the father for hovering, I don't need it from you too."

"Who is the father, if you don't mind me asking?"

"His name's Gaven, he's a member of the guard."

Maka frowned, unable to recall any particular guard who seemed close to Camille.

She must have read the confusion on Maka's face, as Camille clarified, "We aren't advertising it much. What with the war going on, we thought it would just add another valuable target to the list. But with everything starting to calm down, we thought we might announce it at the Namir-da."

There was that word again. "A dancer performing in the market mentioned the Namir-da to me today."

Camille nodded. "That was probably Tsubaki. She's the leader of the dancers guild, and never misses a chance to dance in the market if she can help it. She's incredible, isn't she?"

Maka nodded fervently. "I've never seen anyone move like that."

"Did she say if she would be performing this year?"

Maka frowned as she tried to recall her words. "I don't know if she's sure. She said something about performing outside the synkal, but wondered if she might perform it inside this year. Because Soul wouldn't be able to." Her voice fell a little at the end.

A twinkle appeared in Camille's eye. "She told you that Soul danced with Anya last year, didn't she?"

Maka shrugged. "She might have."

"Did she also tell you that is was because our stepmother forced him to?"

"No. Why would she do that?"

"Life is short. Eloise wanted to make sure Soul had someone who might be Naga in the event that Wes was killed. Having him dance with Anya was as good as making the announcement herself."

Maka looked down at her hands, which were currently picking at the fabric of her dress in her lap. She hadn't intended to make Camille her confidant, but there was likely no one else who knew Soul better, and Maka thought she might explode if she didn't talk to someone about what she'd just heard. "Would Soul have been happier with her?" she asked. "Is he really so miserable?"

Camille looked startled at the question, and to her credit, didn't answer immediately. She thought for a long moment, picking her words carefully. "I wouldn't say he's miserable, exactly. He's glad the plan seems to be working, that there haven't been any major conflicts or losses of life since you two announced the match. But my half-brother has always been an incredibly solitary creature, more so than most of our kind. He turns inward, and doesn't usually let anyone in. Whatever he is feeling, I would say that he's lonely, above all else. It's a lot of work, leading our people, as you well know." At Maka's nod, she continued. "And yet he doesn't really have anyone to lean on, now that he's Diente."

"He has me." The words slipped out before Maka could stop them.

Camille's eyebrows shot up.

"I mean - that is to say -" She took a breath and tried again. "I only mean that we agreed on this plan together. We both agreed to work toward peace. I assumed that meant helping the other when they needed it. So why hasn't he come to me for help?"

"Maka, the last thing he wants to do is push you, to ask something of you that you are unwilling to give. This time, you will have to be the one to go to him."

"You mean now?"

Camille shrugged. "If not now, then when? Last I saw him, Soul was headed to market to meet with some of the artisans and merchants. Go join him, and see if you can't ease his burden just a little."

Maka hesitated, suddenly unsure of doing so now that the possibility was right in front of her.

Camille laughed and shooed her away. "Go, Maka! And tell me how it turns out."


Despite her reservations, Maka followed Camille's advice, retracing her steps back to the open air market where she'd met Tsubaki and watched her dance. This time the dancer was absent, leaving nothing for Maka but to find Soul.

His white hair was easy to spot, and soon she was approaching him as he spoke to one of the merchants. Someone nearby drew his attention to her, and he tensed before he turned around and spotted her. Maka wondered at the motion - had he been expecting Anya? Or worse, Maka herself?

But he only relaxed slightly and held out a hand to her. "Maka, what a surprise." She took it, and after a moment's hesitation, intertwined her fingers with his. He started a little, his eyes flicking to hers for a brief moment before returning to the merchant before him.

They had been touching whenever they were in public to keep up the charade of a young couple in love - handholding, an arm around the waist, fingers across shoulders - to the point where Maka was becoming more accustomed to Soul's touch. And yet, there still remained a distance between them, one Maka hadn't questioned until she'd heard Anya's gentle words earlier that day. Had she not been making as much of an effort as she should?

"Maka, you remember Arthur, yes?" he asked her, gesturing to the metalworker in front of him.

"Of course." She nodded to him. Arthur was a staple at the avian markets who had been one of the first to ask permission to trade in the serpiente markets. He was not the only one to do so; there were also serpiente merchants who had requested to trade in the avian markets as well.

"Always a pleasure to see you," he replied.

"How is the trade going?" she asked.

"Well, for the most part. I did have a group nearby who looked like they wanted to start trouble, but they left as soon as Soul approached. I don't think they'll be back." He looked around the market, as though taking it in for the first time. "I don't know what I expected, coming here," he admitted. "But it's more than I could have imagined."

They bid him farewell after a few minutes of small talk, leaving Soul and Maka to wander the market. "I'm glad to see him here," she said. "I was worried no one would take up the offer to trade in other markets."

Soul nodded. "It's certainly intimidating, but most have good heads for business. Bringing their goods to new markets can only help their trade."

Maka accustomed to seeing the odd guard trailing Soul, suddenly noticed their absence. "No guards today?"

Soul shook his head. "Not at market. I can handle myself well enough, and no one would dare try and attack the Diente in public like this." He slid a sideways look to her, and Maka was suddenly very aware that they were still holding hands. "If you're asking because you're worried for yourself, I wouldn't be. My people like you, Maka, they've told me so. We're at no risk here."

"I wasn't asking - I didn't - never mind." Why was she so unsure of herself suddenly? Maka shook her head to clear it. "I've been out here before, but not with a guide. Show me."

Maka was right in that touring the market was a much different thing with Soul by her side. They went from stall to stall, chatting with them about their wares. Those that offered food presented a sampling of their cooking, and soon Maka was full to bursting with delicious pastries and savory treats.

One such chef offered a taste of fresh lamb, though Maka pleaded a full stomach to avoid trying it. As they stepped away, Soul said, "You know, I've noticed you don't eat meat, and I wanted to ask you about it. I've seen other avians take part in dishes like that." He nodded back to the vendor. "Is there a particular reason you don't?"

Maka shrugged. "My great-grandmother hated the smell of meat, so she insisted that the cooks avoid serving it in the Keep. By the time I came around, they were so used to serving dishes without it that I never really acquired the taste."

Soul's mouth quirked in a small smile. "Your great-grandmother sounds like an interesting woman. Since you've no moral or religious obligations against it, can I ask if you might try some?"

Maka considered his request. It was true that she had no strong feelings about abstaining from meat, only that she hadn't really been provided the opportunity to try it. And if she didn't like it, it was easy to fall back on her previous diet, no harm done. So she nodded, and let Soul lead her back to the vendor who had offered them lamb.

"Tell us again what wonderful creation you have to offer," Soul said to the cook, who smiled knowingly at his flattery.

"I've prepared some freshly roasted lamb in a wine and rosemary sauce that I would be happy to offer your Naga."

Maka accepted the small morsel he offered, almost laughing at the intent way both the cook and Soul watched for her reaction. She wondered suddenly if the cook would be terribly offended if she didn't like meat after all, and whether she would have to pretend to like it to spare his feelings.

Her worry vanished as she tasted the lamb, the flavor dissolving across her tongue as the tender meat almost melted in her mouth. Soul laughed at her expression of surprise and the cook smiled widely. "Does the lady like it?" he asked, though the answer had to be written clearly across her face.

"Yes," Maka said once she'd swallowed. "It's like nothing I've had before, but it's delicious."

Soul smiled widely. "Good. I'm glad you like it." He turned to the chef. "We're leaving for the Keep tomorrow, but when we return, would you be available and willing to prepare dinner for us in the synkal?"

The cook blinked, stunned. "I - yes, of course. Yes, I would be honored."

Soul inclined his head. "Thank you."

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the market, not leaving until the sun had sunk below the horizon. Maka wondered if she would be expected to eat dinner after filling her stomach at the multitude of food stalls, but Soul passed by the dining hall without a word.

He led her to her rooms, and while they were quiet on their journey, it wasn't an awkward or uncertain silence that filled the air. Maka chewed her lip as they neared their destination - as pleasant as the afternoon had been, she hadn't really accomplished what she had set out to do. But now that the moment was approaching, she was unsure of how to proceed.

They stopped outside her room, Soul gesturing to the door. "Your room, my lady," he said, sketching a mock bow.

Maka's lips twitched into a small smile. "Why, thank you." She hesitated, then opened the door and nodded inside. "Join me inside for a moment, will you?" She knew she'd kick herself later if she let him leave without at least trying to speak with him.

Soul tilted his head in curiosity, but followed her inside. She shut the door behind him, took a breath, then turned to face him. Soul was frowning. "Did something happen?"

Maka shook her head, forcing a more pleasant expression to her face. "No, no, don't worry, nothing's happened. I only wanted to speak with you about… well, this, I suppose." She gestured to the space between them.

Soul's brows flicked up. "What about 'this'?"

Maka blushed, but pressed on. "I think we're going about this wrong."

"What do you mean? There hasn't been any major fighting, and both our peoples seem to have accepted this new direction. Unless you've heard something different?"

Maka shook her head. "That's not what I meant. I mean our partnership. We both promised to make this work, but both of us retreated back to what we know. What's the point of agreeing to work together if we don't? I know we have our differences, that this isn't what we had planned originally, but I think we can do better than barely speaking and only ever seeing each other when we're traveling."

Soul shrugged. "That goes both ways, you know."

Maka inclined her head in acknowledgment. "And I recognize that. I'm only saying that I think we can rely on each other more than we think. I believe that we can be friends in this, if you'd like."

For some reason that Maka couldn't discern, Soul's expression went flat. "Friends."

Maka became defensive at his tone. "Is that so hard to believe? That we could be friends?"

Soul shook his head, and went he met her gaze again, his expression was warmer, that strange flatness wiped from his features. "No, of course. I apologize for my distance. I didn't want to push where I might not be welcome."

"You're always welcome to at least ask." Maka didn't know what prompted her, but she reached out to catch his hand, squeezing it once.

Soul hesitated and pulled his hand away. "In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that the distance you've noticed has not been entirely due to business." He looked away as he admitted, "I've been avoiding you."

Maka blinked. "What? Why? Is it because of what my mother said? Because you have to know that I don't—"

Soul shook his head. "No, it's not that. I — that is to say, over the past few weeks… or, no, that's not—" He scrubbed a hand through his hair in frustration, then dropped it with an angry sigh. "No, forget I said anything. It's nothing." Before she could call him back, he turned on his heel and quickly left the room, letting the door slam shut behind him.

Maka stared after him, her brows knotted in confusion. What had just happened? Had Soul been avoiding her or hadn't he? Likewise, she was unsure whether to chase after him and force him to explain himself, or let him leave and recollect himself so she could confront him at a later time.

No, she wouldn't let him storm away without an explanation. She hurried out of her room and out into the hallway, but wasn't sure which direction he'd chosen. In that moment, as she paused, a strange muffled thump echoed down the right hand passage. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as Maka's gut told her something was terribly wrong.

She sprinted around the corner, skidding to a sudden stop as she took in the scene before her.

Soul and another figure were fighting silently in the middle of the hall, their movements so quick they appeared to blur through the air. His opponent was slender, their clothing loose and shapeless enough that determining gender was near impossible. A scarf was tied around their face, leaving only a narrow gap for their eyes. They were armed with a long-bladed dagger Maka recognized instantly - it was the preferred weapon of many in the Royal Flight. And the longer she watched, the more certain she became that the assassin was avian. She knew that stance, that fighting style.

With that realization came a much more horrifying one. An avian attacker meant there was a significant chance the blade was coated with poison, and that one scratch would kill Soul where he stood.

Maka didn't even stop to consider it. She rushed forward, throwing her arms around the assassin and heaving him to the side and away from Soul. The attacker whirled around and lashed out with their blade. Maka threw her arm up to block the blow and instantly felt steel meet flesh. It was followed by an intense rush of heat, confirming Maka's suspicions: the blade had indeed been poisoned.

In the moment after she'd been cut, Maka felt the assassin recoil, almost in shock. They'd recognized her, and the sight had been enough to throw them off. It was enough for the attacker to reconsider. They spun and fled down the hall, disappearing in an instant.

Soul took a step forward as though he had half a mind to follow after, but he turned to Maka instead. "Are you alright?" he said urgently.

Maka made to nod, but the world seemed to tilt on its axis all at once, and she stumbled into the wall. Soul wrapped and arm around her waist and half-carried her to a door down the hall. He pounded on it several times, and it opened to a multitude of guards.

"Anya, there's been an attack. Avian assassin, we think, took off toward the southern exit," he said in a rush. "Maka's been injured."

Anya nodded. "You, with me," she ordered one. To the others she said, "You, stay with the Diente, and you, fetch the doctor to Maka's quarters. And keep quiet about it, we don't want news of this to spread." The guards rushed away to attend to their assignments.

"Let's get back to her room," Anya said, guiding them on. "The doctor will be there shortly."

That was the last thing Maka remembered before the hall slid sideways and everything went dark.