This scene is pretty ... different, but I had to include it because Gemma's getting sexually frustrated.

Ann is fast asleep when I return to our room. I am bitterly surprised, jealous that the evening's nightmare will wash off of her skin as easily as soap. It is already racing for my heart, slicing up my veins and turning my insides black.

I sit in front of the mirror, breathing deeply, telling myself that it was a dream, a nightmare, anything but real life. I can feel my hand shaking as I pick up my hairbrush and drag it through my wild red hair, cursing for the umpteenth time that my hair is not smooth and perfect like Pippa's. It tumbles down my back in mad spirals and twists, almost straight in some places, tightly curled in others. My skin is painfully pale, almost as pale as Felicity's, and my eyes are a bold and penetrating green. Such impertinent eyes, I remember my grandmother saying once, when I was but nine years old. No man will want to wake up to your accusing gaze, Gemma dear.

I stand, and, glancing at Ann to make sure she is deeply asleep, begin to undress. My dress slips to the floor, cascading around my feet as if I were a waterfall myself. I have trouble taking off the corset, and I whimper and curse as my fingers become entangled amongst the laces. But finally it is off, and I am left in my chemise, and that is when I hear a slight cough and turn to find Kartik looking sheepish, sitting on the floor behind the screen.

"Oh my -! What on earth -?"

He steps forwards, but I find I cannot move. My arms will not even protect myself from his invasive stare. I find I am slack, powerless to defend my dignity. My eyes are locked on his as he approaches.

"Miss Doyle, I am so sorry. I simply ... there was no good time to announce my presence. I am truly sorry. Please forgive me. Please." His eyes lower to the ground submissively, and my fingers fly instinctively to my locket. As soon as my fingertips touch the silver of the necklace, the metal begins to hum, burning and pulsing through my veins until I can no longer help myself. I can feel the raw power flowing through my body, leaving me peaceful and calm and drowsy. I tear my fingers from the locket but realise that the feeling has not left me. I can almost taste the sweet slumber of my pillow, but I know that sleep is not what I need. I need to feel alive. I need to...

He is almost at the window when I speak his name. "Kartik." He turns, his eyes instinctively going to the floor to shield my modesty. "Yes, Miss Doyle?"

"Kartik, I think I am..." I look down at the hand with which I clutched my locket, and, to my surprise, I can see it glowing and shimmering in the flickering candlelight. It almost glitters with the magic coursing through my body, and I gasp in surprise and delight.

"Kartik, look!" I realise I am speaking loudly, but I cannot help myself. The humour of the situation catches me off guard, and I find myself helpless to stop the laughter spilling out of me, like an overflowing champagne bottle, smoking and sparkling and bubbling over.

"Miss Doyle, what is the matter with you? Having you been drinking?"

"No, my dear Kartik, I have not. I went, I saw it all. I saw myself, the power and the beauty and the death and the light. I saw my mother and my sister and Felicity's eyes were flooded with the blackness and –"

"What? What did you say?"

"I saw my mother." My vision is blurring, fading into something more twinkling and ethereal and beautiful. Kartik's face looms above mine, his long, thick lashes framing his worried eyes, his skin, like velvet, so soft to touch. I know that I am stroking his cheek, murmuring nonsense into the press of his hand against my mouth, and I know that he is carrying me from the room, from the school and into the woods. I know that we are at the lake that Felicity spoke of, the lake where the mermen live, where the fish fly and the dreams dive and my skin sparkles like moonlight on silver.

"Miss Doyle, what happened? Where did you go?" His arms are underneath me, one curved underneath my back and the other in the crick of my knees. He places me gently down on the soft forest floor, where I gaze rapturously up at him, smiling lazily. I know I am being foolish, but I do not care. I cannot care. My mind is a thousand places all at once, I know what he is thinking, what he is thinking...

He gasps as I invade his mind. I pick out random thoughts. He is worried about me. Thinks I am drunk. Thinks I am wild. He often thinks of home, of the organisation that he belongs to. He has a task, a task to do with me...

"I think you'll stop there." His words, cold and hard, block me from any more investigating. I roll around, giggling foolishly, unable to help myself. "Kartik, my dear Kartik, you are beautiful in the nighttime."

He leans down and lifts me. I feel his surprise at how light I am, how his slender arm fits around me perfectly. I am back in his thoughts, but once more, he pushes me gently out.

"Gemma, you must tell me what you saw. Where you went." His face is above mine, and it is all I can do not to reach up and kiss him. I want to know what his lips, his mouth, his tongue tastes like. His thumb lightly touches the concave of my knee and this is all he has to do to make me realise that I have to find out.

His gasps lightly in surprise as I press my lips to his. He is warm and smooth and petal soft, and I smile as I rest my head back in his arms. He lays me once more on the floor, and again his mouth is irresistibly close to mine. But this time, I do not lean up. He leans down. I feel myself sinking, melting, and slipping into the forest as his body warms me. My thin chemise is all I have on, and I can feel my limbs shivering in voluntarily. He notices, covers us both with his cloak, and then his hand is on my waist and crinkling the chemise up, my thighs dangerously naked. His fingertips run along my skin and I press into him and then he stops, stands, lifts me roughly, and sprints swiftly back to the school, the dull, repetitive, monotony of school, and I hate him for it. And I love him for it.