The room smelled of wine and ripe fruits, their scents mixing together into a bittersweet aroma; I could taste the exotic delicacies with every breath I took, their balmy smell sticking to the roof of my mouth. The atmosphere was warm, wrapping us in a pleasant blanket — or perhaps it was that she had inched closer to me, her shoulder a soft caress against my bicep, spreading a titillating heat through me that would have left me feeling almost jovial were it not for our current predicament.

"Honestly, I'm baffled at how the two of you managed to escape your prison. I suppose a check on personnel might be in order." High Overseer Kinley's voice cut through the air like the crack of a whip. He watched us via the holes of his mask, the frozen glare of its features accentuated by the bright lights overhead — the disorienting buzz of energy all around.

I could name each and every noble present within the room, I knew their worst fears, their darkest secrets, and I recognised the judgemental stares they sent the woman next to me — all the while I knew painfully well; they truly had no room to judge anyone if not themselves.

"It's all fair, I understand you must be just as eager for your execution as everyone else is," he continued, taking several domineering steps towards us. "So what are we waiting for? As you can see, we've fixed the power problem." He spread his arms, gesturing around the room filled with the hum of electricity. "Without your help, might I add. As of now you're nothing but a waste of the Abbey's resources." He cocked his head, the light glinting off his mask, before turning to Emily. "…It's always tragic to witness an innocent young woman's descent into madness." He raised his gloved hand towards her cheek, fingers ready to caress it. "Another waste…"

"Don't touch her." My voice was ice, carrying a signature coldness left by the Void itself.

"What?" The High Overseer spoke in false abashment, turning his attention back to me. "The Outsider doesn't like his toys being touched, does he?"

Emily gave my hand a gentle squeeze, and it was just enough to keep me from taking the bait. Instead I sneered at the loathsome figure, the monster who dared call himself a man of good faith.

"Suddenly not so talkative, are we? That's alright." He started circling us like the greedy vulture he was, a wicked smile on his face and a murderous glint shining from the dark eyeholes. The crowd watched with bated breath, drawn in by the High Overseer's theatrical approach. "Your father was an exquisitely interesting man, was he not, Outsider? A true pioneer I suppose."

I didn't reply, the room suddenly too bright, too loud — too white. The static of the artificial lighting was overwhelming, dizzying me and making it increasingly harder to keep track of the High Overseer's movements. There was a spine-chilling undertone to the constant buzz that weighed down on us, something ominous and familiar — something greedy and ravenous.

"But, alas: a heretic nonetheless." He shook his head in rehearsed disapproval. "Well, you know what happens to heretics." He stopped in front of us again, quickly gesturing at his son Marcus to come over before turning to the crowd. "Honoured guests! What better way to start a new era — to have this night earn its place in history — than by ridding us all of the very embodiment of our suffering!" He spoke with a charisma and conviction that managed to enrapture most of the crowd, an excited murmur arising from their numbers. Few pretended to be shocked, drawing attention with their pretentious gasps and fake scandalised looks. "The generations to come will never forget the night the world was cleansed from the damning curse that is the Outsider!" He took the gun from his son, wrapping it in his black grasp, pointing it at my head with cold-blooded confidence. His finger slowly slid over the trigger, and I intertwined mine with Emily's, preparing for the worst. "After all, you're nothing but a pathetic mortal now…"

Perhaps I should have known better. After all this was how it always ended: blades and bloodied snow — I hadn't learned my lesson. Where had Wyman even gone? I turned to look to the the woman beside me, the one who had risked it all only to march right into her own demise. I had warned her; I had always been bad luck. Her gaze met mine, but there was no blame to be found in her eyes, no unspoken accusations — only a fiery resolve no bullet could ever extinguish.

"No — wait!" High Overseer Kinley lowered the gun, surprising us. "I have a better idea." His other hand motioned at the orchestra. "It would be rude to leave a party without first offering your beloved Lady a dance!" Albeit hesitant at first, soon the room was flooded with the gentle sound of music again, the reluctant orchestra picking up their instruments one by one.

"What?" Emily was seemingly outraged by the idea, head whipping towards the Overseer in shock. Soft whispers and mumbles arose from our observant spectators, all taken in by the drama.

"You heard me, Kaldwin." The High Overseer threatened through gritted teeth, briefly gesturing at her with the gun in his hand. "A dance. Or I shoot."

I recognised a trap when I saw one, and I knew what would happen if we failed to amuse the man — because that was what this was all about, wasn't it? Putting on a spectacle, playing with us as would a cat with a mouse. He was gloating in his victory, prolonging the moment and parading the power he had over us — much like he'd done with his wife, and I knew exactly how that little game had ended.

"Mel, it's okay if you can't," she tried to reassure me, but I didn't reply, feeling my temper flare and fill me with the same burning spite that had consumed me earlier.

I released her hand and bent down to take off the heavy Overseer boots, silently gesturing for her to do the same. I threw them a few feet away — towards a gasping group of Nobles who quickly stepped away from the possibly cursed pair of shoes. My bare feet stepped onto the marble floor, soaking up the cool touch of stone. I had witnessed people dance all throughout history, and I wasn't ashamed to admit I had watched the woman before me dance with particular interest on more than one occasion. Of course watching wasn't the same as actually doing it, but I still remembered fragments of a former life; little feet and guiding hands, a roaring bonfire accompanied by the crunch of snow.

And so I presented the woman before me with a polite bow, bending my right arm before me as was custom; something I had more knowledge of than she had previously given me credit for. "Empress Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin, will you do me the honour to dance with me?" I offered in a charade of refinement, a small but mischievous smile playing on my lips — the High Overseer would soon discover; we wouldn't fall for his trap like helpless little mice, far from it, we would bite him in the pious ass and go out with the cunning of rats.

She hesitated, watching me with questioning eyes and trying to get a reading of my intent. She quickly caught on to my farcical attitude, her lips twisting into an overly demure smile. "With pleasure, Me-"

I shook my head, interrupting her before she could finish. "Матвей."

Her lips had parted at the word, cheeks suddenly glowing a rosy pink — I felt my heart stutter and jump around my chest as she stared at me in stunned silence, eyes glittering like a golden sea. The both of us held our breath, me in anticipation, her in what I could only guess to be awe. That moment the entire room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us, scored by the beating of our hearts and the gentle harmony of music.

"I… I accept, Matvey." The name fell off those inviting lips like a question, uncertain of its pronunciation. I reassured her with a smile of approval, and she grew more confident, quickly adding; "Please, it's just Emily."

And like that, there was nothing separating us anymore. No titles or positions that raised one above the other, just two mortal beings subjected to the same fate, existing in the same place at the same time. The song that played in the background started slow, led by a violin. It wasn't hard for me to get a sense of the rhythm, and as soon as the right notes were played I pulled her towards me gently, the joining of our hands saturated my sensitive skin with exhilarating sparks. She didn't know the position I guided her into, turning her back towards me, pressing my hip up behind her as I raised both her arms. Our bodies merged together fluidly and somehow the whole room brightened with an influx of light, the buzzing electricity fluttering with every energising breath I took.

I softly pressed my cheek against the top of her head, her hair caressing my skin, as I lowered my lips to her ear. "Just follow my example," I whispered, all too aware of the shiver that ran through her before she nodded silently. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to remember exactly how to move, my thumb trailing the top of her hand absentmindedly. Every breath she took drove into me, ignited that strange longing her presence always seemed to beckon, our bodies united in perfect symmetry. I knew I had to focus, but I couldn't fight the distracting heat that consumed me. Then, still with my eyes closed, I guided her through the first steps. Every beat of my heart was heavy, pumping my veins full of heated blood, crackling with static, and I swore I could see a faint glow behind my eyelids. Her body moved against mine, picking up on the steps easily, our bare feet moving along the marble smoothly.

Then my eyes shot open as my leading arm lifted hers into the air, spinning her around me, her feet automatically raising her onto her toes. Her face lit up with a smile of excitement, and the way she scrunched up her nose sent another dizzying wave of heat through me. I halted her when she faced me as I moved backwards, guiding her to follow, before stopping and raising her arm again, pulling her into another spin as we circled each other over and over. I couldn't break my gaze away from the beautiful sight of her — she looked absolutely stunning even in her dirtied prison clothes — her hair moved and bounced with every spin she made, her eyes crinkling and alight with laughter. She enthralled me, even more so up close, and soon she was pressed against me again, my hand eagerly lowering to rest on the warm curve of her hip, fingers digging into her clothed skin. I kept leading her around, her head reclined against my chest as I helped her move, my hand gripping her more firmly as we meticulously swayed along to the violin in the background.

Every breath I took was filled with her, warm and welcoming, the feeling of her moving with me absolutely ecstatic and utterly addictive. Soon she no longer needed my guidance and we flowed across the cold marble together, our feet moving in perfect unison. Every time she returned to me I pulled her closer and closer, wanting to get more of her, hungry hands grasping at her heated skin as her slender frame arched against mine eagerly. Our bodies crashed into each other like waves, violent and empowering, swirling together like the perfect storm. Nothing mattered as we moved, not a single religious dogma or societal notion. We just were, our movements bridging all possible segregations. Before we knew it the dance evolved into its own thing, and Emily appeared thirsty to take the lead from me. I allowed her, and soon I found myself dragged along as we picked up speed, spinning around each other until instinct took over and my hands lifted her, my arms raising her up against me. She braced herself on my shoulders as we continued to turn, her body slowly sliding down in my hold, my skin soaking up her heat.

I couldn't stop staring at her as she hung above me, her eyes pinning me with a strange and unfamiliar look, framed by thick lashes. The flickering lights cast her in a golden hue, her hair wild and imperfect, her cheeks pink from exertion. I was panting, exhausted, and I couldn't tear my gaze away from her parted lips as she too seemed to be gasping for air. Her face neared mine, slowly, as her body slid down further and further, the movement igniting my skin with more otherworldly sparks. I noticed the orchestra in the background had stopped playing, the crowd gone completely silent at the unexpected spectacle. In the distance I heard a clock ring out, announcing the official arrival of the Month of Darkness. My arms pulled her closer in response, the soft curves of her chest brushing up against me, her face hovering mere inches above mine. My eyes flitted between hers and her mouth, and I noticed her doing the same, her hot breath caressing my fevered skin.

"It's my birthday," I blurted, my voice rough from the strenuous dance.

Before she could reply another voice spoke out from the crowd, breaking the silence. "Happy birthday," said Wyman calmly, followed by a loud crash, a container of whale oil shattering near our bare feet — and I couldn't believe it; I couldn't possibly fathom that this had just happened.

"What the-"

I didn't give the High Overseer any time to finish, stomping my foot directly into the broken mess next to us, arms still holding onto Emily as tight as I could. The glass cut into my skin, and I immediately felt the volatile reaction as my blood came into contact with the Oil. I closed my eyes, focusing as fast as I could, one of my hands protectively wrapping around Emily's head. Everything happened in a fraction of a second — I heard the gunshot as the High Overseer tried to stop us, my heart leaping with adrenaline, causing my blood to race, spreading the whale oil faster. The lights above had begun to shatter one by one, my skin glowing once more as my blood filled with the explosive substance. The room was flooded with blue light, sparks of lightning shooting from my skin, the surrounding crowd quickly backing away from the violent display. Just as the bullet was about to pierce my skin I felt the familiar pull that tore me away from the mansion, the world warping around us in a flurry of flashes and morphed sounds.

The two of us tumbled down, bodies intertwined to keep from being separated, the smell of oxidised metal and burned charcoal leaving a bitter taste on my tongue. Cold winds howled and whipped around us, pulling at our limbs, tearing at our skin. I didn't dare open my eyes, afraid of being blinded by the violent maelstrom that carried us. We came crashing down with backbreaking force, the ground beneath us cold and muddy, our bodies roughly sliding down slick muck. Soon we came to a stop, and I felt the sludge stick to my skin, sand grating into the burns left by the whale oil. The air was brisk, leaving icy kisses upon my exposed flesh, raising goosebumps wherever it touched. My arms still enveloped the warm figure of the former Empress, the woman who lay motionless on top of me, her moving chest the only indicator of life for now. I figured she was feeling the same sickening vertigo as me, my mind spinning in the aftermath of our fall.

Behind me I could hear the familiar sound of waves lapping up a muddy shore, the smell of salt and sand all around, and nearby there was a rustle of grasses; the wind tussling them like it did my hair.

Then she started shaking, her body remaining where it was as her chest bubbled with laughter. I dared open my eyes, curious to know what she thought to be so funny. She raised her head, sensing my movements as I tried to look at her, wild strands of hair falling in front of her face.

"We did it!" Her gaze met mine, her eyes glittering with a relieved kind of happiness. "That was amazing!" Her hands wrapped around my face, a joyous smile decorating her glowing features. "By the Void, I've never felt so rebellious!" Emily continued to grin down at me, biting her lip as her eyes roved my features, hands holding me in place. My heart stopped when her face lowered, her soft lips brushing my cheek in a fast peck, leaving my skin ablaze with the memory of their touch. Her eyes met mine again and another hysterical giggle escaped her, before she rolled off of me, pulling me through the sludge with her. My body followed, and soon I was the one on top, holding myself above her on my elbows. Emily smiled up at me with mischievous delight, her hair and face caked with mud.

I gaped down at her in silent amazement, mesmerised by her joy, her radiant grin, all directed at me — me. I felt an elated smile tug at my lips, her happiness rubbing off on me. Her hands found my face again, soon traveling down my neck and pulling herself up by my shoulders, slowly lifting her face to mine. My eyes searched hers as she neared me, uncertain of what to make of her sudden boldness, my heart pounding in my ears as my pulse rushed through me with euphoric force. Her thumbs lifted to caress the sides of my neck as she held me, leaving a trail of blissful embers in their path. Her gaze had captured me and I found myself unable to move away, those almond-shaped eyes expertly pulling me down under.

"Happy birthday," she whispered, lips only inches away, her sweet breath igniting sparks across mine.

I felt my eyes close instinctively, heightening every little sensation she ignited within me, her slender legs wrapped around me as her fingers dug into the fabric of my shirt. She managed to rekindle all I had fought to repress, fuelling the smouldering inferno within me, pulling me in with her enthralling magnetism. I realised I wanted this, maybe even for as long as I could remember; somehow she was all I could possibly want. I set on closing the remaining distance by myself, yearning to feel her — taste her.

"Oy! Git out of thar ya nasty gits!"

Reality came crashing down, and I instinctively pulled away, mud splashing all around as I made a rough landing on my back, a small distance away from Emily. She stared at me with a look of bewilderment, before her eyes found the source of the sound. I followed her gaze, spotting an old fisherman a short distance away.

"Git home befor yer parents kno what yer doin' ya scoundrels!"

I found myself glancing back to Emily, who met my gaze with an equally flabbergasted look, before she bursted out in a fit of laughter. A rueful smile worked its way onto my face, and I found myself chuckling along with her, the former Empress all but buckling over in sheer amusement. A warm and strangely light feeling spread through my chest as I watched her laugh so freely, cheeks reddened and happy tears in her eyes. I wondered if this was what joy actually felt like, and I tried my best to remember the last time I had ever truly felt anything close to this. Emily paused her laughter to send me a look of mischief, her lips pulled into a playful grin.

"I like you like this," she spoke teasingly, leaning forward as her hand reached for my face, fingers wiping away some mud that stuck to the tip of my nose.

"Like what?" I asked, eyes following her hand curiously, watching her fingers swipe across my skin.

She returned the limb to her side, my gaze drawn back to her face, a small smile playing on her lips. "Happy."

Happy? Was that what I felt? I hadn't missed the smile that had kept tugging at the corners of my mouth, or the strange throb of my heart at the sound of her laughter. It was like a weight had lifted off my soul, leaving me feeling like I was somehow invincible, like we could do anything together. It was unfamiliar, and it scared me, worried me that things might go sour again at any time. The more I acknowledged my feelings, the more insecure I felt about everything. I had no idea how to handle any of this, and the thought that I might ruin this — might be the reason for her smile to disappear again — made me especially anxious. I felt lost, adrift at sea with no end and murky waters; there was no way for me to see what was below the surface, no way to truly know what all of this meant. My gaze was aimless, my body and thoughts feeling jittery and uncontrolled.

So I backed out, quickly pulling away from the only woman who had ever pulled me in. "We should get moving." And as soon as the words were out I regretted them, asking myself what I even thought I was doing.

The happy mood had been lifted as easily as it had been cast, Emily's expression suddenly more guarded. "Right, yes- you're right."

I nodded, trying to not show all the conflict that currently brewed within me. I decided that there wasn't any time for me to waste on trivialities such as personal feelings. Getting to safety first was far more important; everything else could be figured out later. Looking around I knew exactly where we were, and I also knew it hadn't been an accident for us to end up here. Somehow my subconscious had been able to steer us in the right direction yet again. I climbed to my feet, noticing Emily struggling to get up, her limbs sucked into the mud. I didn't hesitate to take her hand, her gaze immediately shooting to me in surprise. I didn't say anything as I helped her up, and she just stared, that strange guarded look still in place.

I really was a coward, wasn't I?

I didn't release her hand, instead heading for our destination without looking back at her as I pulled her along, allowing her no chance to question me. We trekked through the soggy mud, our bare feet sinking away with every step. The Wrenhaven flowed gently next to us, the soft trickling of water somehow soothing to my nerve-wracked psyche. The moon illuminated just enough for me to make out the edge of shore, a small vessel laying in wait further ahead. I knew Callista would be there, but what I didn't know was what she'd have in mind for me. My original plan had been to stay behind and clear the Empress's name, show that everything the Abbey had spread had been lies.

Callista had plenty of reasons to hate me, which had been part of my motivation for picking her, aside from her love and devotion to Emily and ties to the Abbey. I hadn't expected her to go along if I were to join; I'd been absolutely sure she'd turn on us. This is what made her behaviour all the more confusing; I now had no idea what she would think of me. Would she allow me to stay? Would she and Emily decide to drop me off somewhere and go our separate ways? The thought of being alone squeezed at my windpipe, choked me, and I unconsciously tightened my grip on Emily's hand. I would rather turn myself in again.

Inspecting our surroundings for a place to climb ashore, I searched for an easy way to scale the wall that separated the streets from the river. There were small hills here and there, but none of them high enough to provide any real help. My eyes caught a rock formation a little further ahead, and I was certain it would do. Pulling the woman behind me along, my eyes couldn't help but stare at my pale feet as they trudged through the dark mire. I was starting to suspect something more was going on, something I had no knowledge of. Becoming the Outsider didn't include a crash course on the Void; I didn't know all its secrets. The High Overseer had mentioned my father, and it made me anxious to think he played a role in everything that was happening — why had the High Overseer called him a pioneer?

Arriving at the rocks, I released Emily's hand to see if I could manage to climb the wall. I was taller than her, and even my arms were barely able to reach the edge above. I doubted she'd really need my help to get on there, but I still wanted to think she did. I ignored the part of my brain that told me I was showing off by taking the lead, and carefully climbed onto the steep edge before me. Checking to see if anyone was coming before turning back to Emily, I quickly offered her my help again. She took it with both hands, and I steadily pulled her up, watching her mud covered feet climb the side with practiced grace. A pang shot through me at the memory of her laughter, at her unrestrained boldness as she'd pulled me through the sludge with her.

I hadn't wanted to shut her out completely. "I like you like this too," I spoke as I watched her intently, her eyes locking with mine curiously.

"Like what?" She lifted her eyebrows at me in question.

It was impossible for me to keep the amusement from my face as I raised my brows, eyes sweeping up and down. "Dirty."

She gasped, and I couldn't contain the self-satisfied smirk that curved my lips, her hand swatting at my arm in a mockery of anger. Her jaw immediately squared in challenge at my amusement. "Watch your tongue, you wouldn't want the Royal Protector to hear of this." She poked a finger at my chest, narrowing her eyes to slits.

I chuckled, helping her to her feet, smoothly adding in another gibe. "Just wait until he hears how you got dirty to begin with."

Even in the dark I could tell her face had noticeably reddened, sharp eyebrows pulled into an offended frown. "You wouldn't," she warned.

Keeping to the shadows to prevent being spotted, I led her towards the docks where I knew Callista's ship would be waiting, our bare feet leaving muddy footprints across the pavement. "Are you asking me for a favour, Your Majesty?" I purposefully taunted her, sending her a smug look over my shoulder.

"I hardly think I need to, I won't be the one on his hit-list, Outsider." She raised an eyebrow at me as we walked, the surrounding streets completely deserted. The docks were only a short distance away now, and I didn't know what the future would hold for me — or us.

"I think I'm on every daddy's little hit-list, Emily," I purred suggestively, intently observing her reactions, enjoying her over-exaggerated responses.

Another gasp, followed by an offended snort. "Stop that!" Her hands playfully slapped my bicep again as I attempted to fend off her assault, raising my arms to stop her.

She was unintentionally compelling me to continue, curious to see how far she'd take her threats. "My dear Corvo…" I spoke dreamily, side-eying my assailant.

"I swear to the Void, I will strangle you!" She used her hands to cover her ears now, eliciting another amused chuckle from me.

"Not to be old fashioned, but shouldn't we at least try a date first?"

She let out a frustrated squeal as she jumped at me, attempting to grab me by the arms. I quickly evaded her, darting away before she could reach me, unable to suppress my laughter as she ran behind me.

"Come here you insufferable prick!" she called, chasing me, an exasperated grin lighting up her features again.

In an instant I was frozen to the spot by a dark figure that sat in wait near the docks, smile immediately wiped from my face. The Empress bumped into me as we both stopped in our tracks, her gaze following mine. There, hidden in darkness and perched on a wooden barrel, sat a patient Callista, waiting for us, sending us one of her strange and unreadable looks. I righted myself, taking a step away from the woman next to me, instantly self-conscious.

"What happened to the two of you?" Callista didn't sound angry, and that made me all the more uncomfortable.

Emily glanced down at her mud-soaked clothes, seemingly having forgotten about her current state of dress. "Oh- right, it's a long story…" she started, eyes darting between me and her former teacher.

I kept silent as I watched, eyes curiously studying Callista.

"Well… I'm glad you're okay," she spoke, albeit warily at first. "Let's get going, you can clean up inside." She stood, approaching Emily and putting a hand on her shoulder to lead her towards the vessel further down the dock.

I watched them go, unsure of what to do myself, fingers twisting my ritual rings again.

Callista paused, glancing at me over her shoulder. "Are you coming… Outsider?"

My eyes darted between the two women, not sure what to say or do, so I kept my eyes focused on my feet as they padded across weathered wood, following the two women down the dock. A thousand thoughts crossed my mind, different kinds of feelings flaring up and quickly dying down again. I was treading unfamiliar territory, and it somehow instilled me with a strange sense of paranoia — because why would Callista consent to keep me around?

Before long we reached the small ship, a wooden walkway in place to allow us entry. We each crossed it one by one, the ship gently bobbing up and down as the waves danced beneath. The smell of salt and damp wood was overpowering, the small vessel weathered by years out at sea. It wasn't as big as the Dreadful Wale, but it did come close. The inside looked like any ship, as far as ships went — honestly I had never found them all that interesting to begin with. I never understood the appeal of sailing; why people would spend extended amounts of time on a cramped pile of wood would probably never cease to elude me. Especially since I'd seen what happened when that particular pile of wood stopped floating.

Callista led us to a small but cosy cabin, connected directly to the ship's galley. You could tell she'd tried to make it feel more like home, small decorations spread everywhere. "I'll allow you two to freshen up, however I'll need to know where we'll be headed." She turned to us, perching a hand on her hip as she awaited an answer.

I glanced at Emily who stood only a short distance away, and she appeared to be thinking things through. "Wherever we're going, I need to go back to Dunwall Tower first. I'll be able to leave a message for my father in the safe room, at least then he'll know we're safe and where to find us."

Callista nodded, but I didn't miss her reluctance. "And then? What's your plan?"

Emily glanced at me, a frown on her face. "Well… I haven't really thought about it yet…" she started, teeth worrying her lip as she thought out loud. "The High Overseer found a way to channel electricity directly from the Void. I think figuring out how he did it might be a good place to start — the problems with the whales and the Void might be tied to it."

I knew there was only one place for us to look, one place that had to be the beginning of it all. I didn't like it — by the Void, I hated it. But it seemed the only way we were going to find answers was to look for them in the single place I hadn't been looking all this time. "We'll head for Samara," I spoke, a knot in my stomach at the words.

"Samara?" Emily turned to me in surprise. "What could we possibly find there?"

I found I couldn't look her in the eye, my gaze instead darting across the room, lingering on the strange little trinkets Callista had spread all around. "It's where the Eyeless grew into a cult." I didn't elaborate, and Emily appeared to sense my unwillingness to elaborate at this moment.

A short silence fell, and Callista seemed eager to fill it. "Lady Emily you can wash up first, I'll put out a change of clothes for you and then I can show you two where you'll be sleeping." Callista moved towards the hallway we'd entered through, gesturing for Emily to follow, sending me a lingering look before leaving.

Emily turned to follow but not without sending me a final glance, eyes searching my face, before exiting along with Callista. As soon as the two women left, I allowed myself to take a seat, my legs tired and painful. Only now did I feel that my body was starved and sluggish, the strain of the past hours finally kicking in. Adrenaline had kept me from feeling all the pain left by the burns that still littered my skin, and I now became aware of the excessive damage I'd done to myself. Sokolov had warned me of raw whale oil, had told me of its toxic and volatile nature. I didn't know the long term effects of my irresponsible stunts yet, and I certainly wasn't eager to find out.

The ship had started moving, the vessel bobbing along the water's surface. My eyes found the trinkets again, small collectables from every shore, mostly hand-carved figurines. Whales in all shapes and sizes; I knew Callista had always been fascinated by them. Footsteps alerted me to her return, her figure sweeping past me without a second glance. She was headed for the galley, and returned soon after with several cans in hand, setting them on the table next to me.

"I assume you must be hungry," she spoke flatly, before taking a seat herself, directing her gaze elsewhere — anywhere but me.

I looked at the stash of canned goods, a simple fork perched on top of the collection. I didn't know whether to take them or not. She was right; I was hungry. But at the same time I wasn't comfortable taking anything from her, my presence here enough of a burden on her already. It wasn't that I felt sorry for her, or remorseful in any way. What happened to her family was tragic, but not something I had a hand in, regardless of what she thought. My fingers fiddled with the ritual rings absentmindedly as I tried to figure out what to do.

"I didn't know gods enjoyed jewellery." Callista's voice was cold, but not hateful.

My eyes lifted to meet her stern gaze, and I almost felt scolded by her, before returning to the silver rings that decorated my hand. "They were part of the sacrifice," I mumbled, glancing at the canned foods again.

"What sacrifice?" she pressed.

My attention was drawn back to Callista, eyes searching hers warily. She appeared to be sizing me up, and it unnerved me. "The one that made me the Outsider."

Her gaze sharpened, mouth set in a firm line. "And who'd they sacrifice for that?"

I looked away, uncomfortable, my skin like an ill-fitted coat. "Just some street kid."

Callista clicked her tongue, leaning back in her chair. "It's always the street kids, isn't it? No one misses them, anyway."

"I suppose not, no." I stared at the cans in front of me, eyes tracing the logos printed on their labels, remembering exactly when they were designed and by who.

"Aren't you hungry?" Callista's voice was softer now, less confrontational.

I was. In fact I felt like I had been starving.

"You look like you are. Go on then, eat," she urged, sensing my hesitation.

I gave in and obeyed the woman, compelled by her strange authority. I took one of the cans, inspecting the thing for a way to open it. Callista observed me, her gaze burning into me. I knew it had something to do with the lid, I'd seen people pull it, but had never paid enough attention to know exactly where...

"You don't know how to open it, do you?"

I glanced up at the woman again, trying to keep my face neutral. "No."

She stretched out a hand to me, and I carefully surrendered the can to her. Her fingers wrapped around the tin, her other hand revealing a flap on top of the lid and bending it so she could use it to pull. In one move she peeled away the top, revealing the conserved meat inside. She returned the container to me, and I took it cautiously so as not to spill anything. The fluids inside danced with the movement, shimmering beneath the dim candlelight.

"Thank you," I offered, eyes not leaving the opened can before me.

Callista didn't reply, and I could feel her gaze lift off me when it did. I ate the food carefully, my stomach eager to receive something at last. Shortly after finishing, Emily entered the room again, cleaned up and dressed in all-black, reminiscent of what Callista had once worn during the days of the plague. Callista was quick to offer Emily a seat and some food, before urging me to follow her soon after. She led me to the washroom in complete silence, not once sending me a glance. She halted next to the doorway, simply gesturing for me to go inside.

"There's a change of clothes for you on the counter," were all her instructions before leaving again.

I closed the door behind me, and was immediately confronted with my own reflection. My hair stuck out at every possible angle, and my face was caked with blood and mud and- had I been looking like this all evening? I grumpily set on undressing, eagerly ridding myself of the disgusting rags. There was a washcloth on the counter, along with a vat of now lukewarm water. I carefully set on cleaning myself up, hissing as the cloth wiped across patches of burnt skin, the water leaving an unpleasant sting. It took a lot of effort to clean away the dried blood and mud, revealing my sickly pale skin beneath. I was gaunt, reduced to mostly skin and bones again. Sure, I was still more muscular than I had been before my stay in the Tower, but it was no secret that my physique had seen better days. It bothered me — which in turn annoyed me.

I wasn't one to be vain, but as I peered at the face that had been hidden beneath the grime, I couldn't deny that I had aged. Not much, but enough to be noticeable. New lines had formed that hadn't been there before, and I was certain I had spotted a white hair between my mediocre amount of stubble — a beard wasn't for me, apparently. How old was I even? I couldn't be a day over 30, but I certainly wasn't 20 anymore. Either way I looked like shit, that much was certain. No wonder everyone sent me dirty looks, I'd send myself a dirty look too. I rubbed my face with my hands, tired. With my luck I'd be as old as Sokolov by the time we'd reach Tyvia, and the thought horrified me — which, again; vain. Since when did what I looked like even matter?

I quickly relieved myself of my reflection, picking up the stack of folded clothes; all black like Emily's. It didn't take me long to dress, pale hands stuffing the disgusting rat corpse inside my new outfit, along with the shard of the Void. I was eager to leave the small washroom and focus on other things than grey hairs and Sokolov. When I re-entered the small cabin I was greeted with the sight of a lone Emily, who was absentmindedly ladling several servings of canned food into her mouth. She seemed to have heard me enter, her gaze immediately shooting up towards me, a smile brightening her features.

"You look good," she commented sincerely.

I didn't, and I could almost envision her potential as an actress. "I didn't cut myself shaving for once, this time the cuts were already there," I mumbled as I allowed myself to slump down in one of the chairs, eyes intently staring at the intricate pattern that was woven into the small tablecloth. I hadn't been able to fix the mess that was my hair, the dark strands seemingly having a mind of their own. I didn't understand how it had always been fine in the Void, but then again I'd been cased in stone so that surely would have helped. It bothered me that I didn't feel in control, for reasons that had never crossed my mind before.

A delicate hand wrapped around one of mine, pulling it towards the owner. My gaze followed the limb, Emily's thumb tracing the small scars that marred my palm. "I'm really sorry," she spoke gently, voice soft and meant only for me.

I stared at our joined limbs, her skin soft against mine, surprised at her sudden apology. "For what?"

She took a deep breath before answering, her grip on my hand tightening. "For telling the Overseer about your throat... I'm- sorry I wasn't stronger."

My gaze met hers curiously, searching the depths of her eyes in the dim lighting. Did she think I would be angry over something like that? My mind instantly recalled the way she'd pressed her lips to my cheek, how she'd been about to- had that really been her? Or had she just been overcome with relief to still be alive — and me being the only one there for her to celebrate with?

"Don't apologise for it." I found myself staring at our hands again, realising I was filled with questions, with whys and hows. "I deserved it."

"How often do you convince yourself you deserve every bad thing that happens to you?"

My eyes shot up to meet hers again in surprise. "What?"

She sent me a small smile, gaze darting between my face and our hands. "It's what you do, isn't it? Take blame for everything." She squeezed my hand. "Let me carry my own."

I could hear Callista's footsteps nearing, the ship having halted its course. I wondered, things I truly shouldn't be considering, if perhaps Emily could- I quickly brushed off the fleeting thought, my pulse stuttering in my chest.

"I've sailed the ship out of sight, the City Watch won't be able to spot us." Callista entered the room, not commenting on the fact that Emily wouldn't release my hand, even though I had tried pulling it back at the first sound of footsteps. "I'll show you to your rooms now so you can get some rest before we leave again."

Emily simply nodded before she stood, pulling me along with her. Callista lead us through the narrow passageways of the ship, the wood around us creaking and moaning. Soon she opened a door, a candle already lit inside.

"You can sleep here... Matvey." She instructed almost casually, her demeanour strange and distant.

I simply nodded, eyes darting towards Emily curiously. She met my gaze, offering me a small smile before wishing me goodnight. It felt strange to turn away from her, to walk into this unfamiliar room by myself — especially after being imprisoned together. My entire being felt immediately colder, my skin incomplete without the touch of another. The room consisted of nothing but a small bed and table, a round window allowing a view of the night sky. I allowed myself to drop down on the creaky mattress, my weight causing it to dip. My hands rubbed my face, careful not to reopen any wounds. My mind kept taking me back to that muddy shore, her hands wrapped around my shoulders, breath tantalising my skin as her lips nearly touched mine. So close...

What if we hadn't been interrupted? Would she have regretted it? What if it had just been spur of the moment, pure impulsivity? I lifted my feet onto the bed, settling on my side, eyes thoughtlessly tracing the patterns on the walls. If anything, there was one thing that had been made abundantly clear; I wanted her. In what way or capacity I didn't quite know, not yet, but I couldn't deny that I had always considered her different from everybody else. At first it had been for shallow reasons, simple reasons. It wasn't that I had thought her to be special right away, just different — just similar. I closed my eyes in an attempt to sleep, not bothering to crawl beneath the covers; I knew I'd most likely lay awake anyway.

I tried to work through every little detail of what had happened, my mind retracing all of our steps. She'd risked it all to get me to come, had been willing to put her own life on the line, not caring whether or not she'd be Empress again. The way she'd looked at me had been enough to tell me she meant it, and she hadn't seemed to regret anything — as far as I could tell, at least. Completely unbidden, my hands recalled the curves of her hips as they moved against mine, the arch of her back as she danced with me — nothing had ever felt as exhilarating, as addictive — and I tried my best to rid myself of these unwelcome thoughts. But my skin screamed for more, and my mind couldn't stop repeating every single detail, over and over again.

I buried my face into my pillow, my hands twisting into the blankets out of sheer frustration. She was driving me crazy, more than ever before. I couldn't deny that something had changed between us, and that it had to be at least somewhat mutual. I could continue to tell myself that she deserved more, better, but the question remained if that was what she wanted… Could she ever want me? We were free, and we would live. She was no longer an Empress, and even if she might uncover the High Overseer's secrets, there was no telling if the people would ever accept her as their Empress again, especially after tonight. If anything, we'd handed them the proof of their rumours on a silver platter. What would she do, and where would she go? Would she choose to settle somewhere and build a new life there?

I didn't need to be the Outsider to know there were a million choices to be made, a million lives to be lived. What I couldn't foresee however, was whether or not I'd be a part of what she'd choose to do. Even with me ageing faster than normal, I still should be able to live a decent amount of years — and even still, the total length depended on whether or not there might be a cure out there. What if I could live normally? Could we stay together? Would she want to? What if she wanted to raise a family with someone, and I had no place in it? What if Corvo wouldn't want to keep me around; he'd never particularly liked me. The only reason he'd put up with me was because of the whale oil problems. What if I'd lost my usefulness and he'd tell me to leave them be? They could rebuild their lives in Karnaca, Corvo had lived there before. He had a home to return to…

I lifted my head at the creak of a door, my eyes spotting Emily at the entrance of my room, barely visible in the light of my dying candle. I eyed her curiously, waiting for her to speak first and explain why she'd come. She hesitated, teeth worrying her lip as her gaze darted between me and her feet.

"Hey," she whispered, shifting her weight from one foot to another.

I raised my eyebrows, my mind racing with possible answers as to why she'd decided to come, and what she was here to do. "Hey." I knew I was staring, still unable to fully process what was happening, unable to believe she'd come here of her own volition.

I watched her square her shoulders, sucking in a deep breath before fully meeting my gaze, her hand lingering on the doorknob. "Would you mind if I stayed with you, I-" She shifted her weight again, eyes darting towards the flickering candle. "…I don't want to be alone." I knew she was saying a lot more than just the words she'd spoken, her body language allowing me to read between the lines easily enough.

A rush of blood, and my mind was back where it'd started again, filled only with the memory of her body against mine. "I wouldn't mind," I admitted sincerely, immediately feeling the air around me become heavy, my windpipe choking up as she nodded in relief.

My eyes followed her as she approached, and I instinctively made room for her on the small mattress, suddenly finding it difficult to just breathe as she lowered herself carefully. I had pressed myself against the wall behind me, my back digging into the wood, trying to allow her as much space as possible. She was facing me, resting her head on one of her hands as her eyes just stared me down. It made me slightly uncomfortable to have her this close to my face, suddenly self-conscious about the way I looked, and feeling incredibly naked beneath her gaze. It made it difficult for me to look her in the eye, my pulse quickening at her nearness.

She stared at me for a while before she spoke, her voice a soft whisper. "Everytime I close my eyes, I feel the water in my throat again," she admitted, her voice sad and hollow.

"I'm sorry," I spoke without thinking, meeting her gaze briefly before looking away again, trying to control my breathing in her presence. I knew she hadn't meant for it to be an accusation, but I still felt responsible nonetheless.

"-Except for when I'm with you," she continued, not responding to my soft apology. "I never think of it in your presence."

My eyes locked with hers, a small smile curved her lips and my chest tightened at the sight. I curiously wondered if that had been the only reason for her to come here, not missing the pink that dusted her cheeks. I briefly worried what would happen if Callista were to find Emily here, but somehow I didn't expect her to mind too much; I figured she'd seen enough.

Emily's lips parted, ready to speak, but pausing uncertainly. Her eyes searched mine, and I could see hers were full of questions too. "What would have happened…" she started, a frown pulling her eyebrows together, "...if you'd warned us?"

What would the answer offer her? I knew she was only asking it to confirm her suspicions on my intentions, if I hadn't made them perfectly clear already. I knew there was no more point in pretending, or in keeping everything to myself, but I still felt reluctant to tell her, mainly because I didn't want to use it to gain anything from her. I'd done it for her, but I hadn't done it to make her change her mind about who I might or might not be. However talking to her was something I couldn't resist, and I did realise I was tired of being all by myself for all these centuries. I licked my lips, taking a small breath before answering her question. "Corvo would have died."

At first she didn't say anything, eyes still observing me, face pulled into a thoughtful expression. Then she smiled, one of her hands reaching for mine, slender fingers wrapping around it. "Thank you."

I glanced at our hands, the limbs joined between us, my skin pale against hers. I allowed myself to weave my fingers between hers, savouring every little rush of blood the action made me feel. "Don't thank me." I frowned up at her, tracing her features, studying her skin.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips before she spoke, briefly drawing my gaze to her mouth. "Why not?" she asked, curiosity shining in her eyes.

I shook my head, trying to make her understand, eyebrows pulled together. "I didn't do it to receive praise, and I don't want it."

Her hand squeezed mine, and the action sent a wave of heat through my entire arm. "You're not the Outsider anymore, Matvey."

The way my name fell off her lips was enough to cloud my mind and send shivers down my back, my heart dancing in my chest. There was an invisible pull that begged me to get closer, to envelop her until every part of her blended into me. I shook off those feelings, reminding myself to keep breathing calmly, to change the subject. I didn't miss the throaty quality of my voice as I spoke again, trying my best to ignore it. "And you're no longer an Empress. So what will you do now?"

Her lips had parted, and her thumb had started tracing circles upon my skin, driving me further off my mindful edge with every stroke. "Touché," she breathed, raising her eyebrows. "I don't know what I'll do. All I know is that I cannot allow a monster like the High Overseer to take the throne."

I swallowed whatever was about to escape my throat as she wrapped one of her legs around mine, scooting closer to me. My heart was pounding in my ears, as it almost always did in her presence, and I had to fight to keep my composure. "Then we'll expose them all." I rumbled, taking a deep breath to collect myself. "But, there's a high probability that, even if you manage to get rid of the Abbey, the people will still think you're nothing but a mad heretic."

She nodded solemnly, a few strands of hair falling across her face, her lips pressed into a serious line. "That's fine. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

I had to fight the urge to move the hairs back into place, my fingers itching to tuck them behind her ear. "You won't mind losing your throne… forever?"

She shrugged, as if we weren't discussing her entire heritage being lost, and I wondered if she even realised what this all meant. "If the Empire will be left in good hands… then it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

"Why?" I lost the battle with myself, my spare hand moving to stroke the hairs back in place, the tips of my fingers tracing along her skin, lingering next to her ear as they tucked the hair behind it gently.

Her gaze didn't leave mine at the gesture, a small smile curving her lips again. "Because I would rather stand by my convictions, than sacrifice all I believe in for power."

My eyes followed my fingers as they softly traced along her cheekbone, down to her jaw, soaking up the feel of skin beneath mine. "History taught me the world favours the cunning over the honest," I cautioned absentmindedly, my thoughts only able to focus on every place she touched me.

"And my mother taught me happiness comes to those who follow their heart."

Her words drew me back in, my hand halting its movements as my gaze met hers again. "Is that what you're doing?"

She tipped her head as she moved even closer to me, her other leg also intertwining with mine, my arm now wrapping around her shoulder. She was making it increasingly harder for me to think straight, every inch of my body screaming for her, wanting her to touch more of me. Never before had I felt so out of control, so absolutely crazed — she was messing with me in every possible way, my breathing growing more shallow with every passing minute. "I don't know," she admitted breathily, and I realised she was just as confused and uncertain as I was.

I acted on complete impulse, my better judgement clouded by her maddening touch. I released my hand from hers, allowing us to move closer, my arm sliding between the pillow and her head as I tangled my fingers into her soft hair. My other hand travelled down her back, hitching my leg between hers as I pulled her into me, her own leg wrapping around my hip. I didn't miss the arch of her back at my touch, or the sharp intake of breath that passed her lips as I pressed my leg between her thighs. I pulled her head towards me, her cheek resting into the crook of my neck, the hand that had travelled down her back now diving beneath her shirt. I spread my fingers across her skin, pushing my palm into her warmth, my eyes closing at the electrifying contact, feeling her trained muscles move beneath my touch.

This was the closest I had ever gotten to anyone, and I felt absolutely overwhelmed by every little sensation, every inch of my skin flushing at our contact. My hand slowly travelled up again, carefully memorising every detail, fingers dragging along her ribs, her shoulder blades, the base of her neck, reading every bump beneath her skin and committing it to memory. She let out a soft sigh, her breath caressing my neck, sending shivers throughout my body. My other hand worked through her hair, enjoying the silky texture of those dark strands, fingers stroking along her scalp. She leaned into it, raising herself until her cheek rested against mine, her lips at my ear. Her hot breath further warmed my flushed skin, her chest pushing into mine, the soft curves of her breasts moving against me with every dizzying breath she took.

I was riding an absolute high, my breathing strained and shallow as her hands suddenly lifted my shirt, exposing part of my skin before hungrily traveling up my abdomen, one of them skirting along my ribs as it headed for my back. Somehow she managed to control me, my body involuntarily responding to her touches, her hands working unfamiliar magic as my spine curved to follow her movements. I responded by hitching my leg up further, spreading hers apart even more, her hips bucking into me and sending my body ablaze. Every inch of me throbbed with an all-consuming hunger, my lips tracing along her skin as I turned my face, breathing in the mesmerising smell of her that left my lungs starving for her like oxygen. She moved to meet me, eyelashes brushing along my temple, raising every small hair on my skin. The tip of her nose bumped into mine, her lips hovering before me, painfully close.

My eyes fluttered open to see her, to admire her graceful features. At that moment she too decided to open her eyes, her gaze dark and needy with hunger as it met mine, the tips of our noses brushing against each other. My heart skipped several beats at the sight of her, blood violently pulsing through my arteries, causing them to throb beneath my skin and spread a tantalising heat from my chest to my loins. It suddenly made me aware of what we were doing, only now realising the full gravity of our actions. If I were to close the distance, if my lips were to meet hers, there would be no more turning back. I knew I wanted to, my entire being screamed that I wanted this more than anything else. But I regained enough clarity of mind to wonder whether or not I was ready to take the dive that would unleash everything I'd fought to deny, break through my carefully built barriers like floodwaters. There would be no more room for denial — one kiss, and I'd have to face every emotion I felt towards her, forced to confront every human facet of my own psyche.

She seemed to sense my hesitance, pulling back slightly as one of her hands travelled to my face, fingers caressing my cheek gently — almost lovingly, and it awakened a painful ache within me, one I'd repressed for centuries. She sent me a small reassuring smile, hand cupping my cheek, thumb softy tracing my temple. "You look tired, you should try and get some sleep."

I couldn't begin to describe my relief at her words and smile, my eyes watching her in silent awe. She neared my face again, softly pressing her lips against my temple before ducking down and carefully nestling her head against my chest. Her arm wrapping around me, hand splayed against my skin. I rested my cheek on the crown of her head, arms encircling her slender frame. The heat that had consumed me only moments ago quickly dissipated, replaced my something more fragile and unfamiliar — leaving me to wonder just how deeply I'd worked myself into trouble.