Hey there! I'm back with another chapter! Please, don't think that I'm disappearing or that I won't go on with my story...because that's not how things will go. It's only that school has started again and I have much less time now! So the updates won't be as frequent as before, but I'm totally not abandoning any on my readers.

Also, 500+ views!Thanks so much, you're awesome!

Llook at the bright side, this is the longest chapter so far...enjoy! ^_^

XX – A ship amidst the storm

Outside the Crystal Palace, darkness had already come to cover with its mantle the snowy roofs of Deningrad.

Miranda offered them to stay in the palace for the night, and Matthew and Enlar gladly accepted. The former was still feeling weak, Enlar noticed as the White-Silver dragoon accompanied them to a less-grand room in which to rest. Tough he was trying his best to hide it, his eyes showed an immense weariness. Still, they had returned to their usual warm brown and Enlar could not complain. When the inn's door had been shut in her face, she had lost a good deal of her hope. Matthew had been on the verge of death, she had been exhausted and with no one to help her. Thankfully, Setie had found them.

Even though Enlar found it hard to believe, she had been really worried about Matthew. After all, he was her only bond to their world: the only one who could probably have understood her; instead of talking, however, they spent their time quarreling.

Miranda led them into a comfortable hall lighted by four huge crystal chandeliers: "Here, choose two of the free rooms in this hall and consider yourselves at home. I have to leave the main guest room vacant, but I hope even these humbler lodgings will suit you."

"They'll be heaven, after sleeping in the forest." Matthew replied with a grin. Enlar nodded herself and smiled: "Thanks, Miranda. For all you've done, for putting your trust in us."

The woman just shrugged: "Nonsense, it's my duty to help fellow dragoons in need." With a brief smile, she left the hall and went up a flight of stairs.

When she disappeared, Matthew looked at Enlar enigmatically: "So, you took me here?"

"I did." Enlar replied tiredly: "But, if I remember correctly, you did the same for me some time ago. I was just returning the favor."

"I see, still for the mission's sake, in other words." He commented. "Anyway, I'm gonna have to say thanks. But just for this time, don't make an habit of this."

Enlar raised her eyebrows, surprised: "How weird. Maybe that fever got you so badly that you are still a little delirious. Go and rest, Matthew."

"At once, mommy." He mockingly chanted as he entered one of the nearby rooms. Enlar shook her head and did the same. Although being weary, she couldn't help feeling amazed by the room she entered. It was small and comfortable, with a huge fireplace lit and crackling. She undressed slowly and sat on the soft bed, touching the silky linen with her hand. Lying down carefully, she lifted her knees and hugged them, as she had always done back when she was a child. She closed her eyes, relishing the sweet atmosphere of that place. In her mind, the constant sound of the fire turned into notes that harmonically followed each other, forming a well-known melody.

Without knowing, that unexpected music lulled her into something that was not quite sleep.

Now she could clearly see a piano, their piano, huge and black and elegant under the sitting room's large window. The melody was still playing, but it wasn't her on the stool.

No, the one touching the keys with grace and skill was her father. He was perfect as always, wearing his black suit and the tire Enlar had given him for his last birthday. She stood beside him, listening, and registered nonchalantly that her body was that of a little girl again. Enlar didn't find it odd, too occupied with losing herself in the melody. Her favorite one, as her father knew well.

When it slowly came to a stop, Enlar clapped joyously: "Again, again! It's so beautiful!"

Her father turned, his face only a ghostly image, and took her in his arms. "Sweetheart, you never get tired of it, do you?"

Enlar vehemently shook her head: "Of course not! It's so beautiful, and my daddy playing it makes it even more so!"

The man laughed heartily, holding her close. Enlar fancied she could really feel his warmth in her arms, just for an instant.

Then, someone else entered the scene.

"Doctor?" A young man ventured, a troubled look on his face. Enlar was put down in a second, but her father kept his hands on her shoulders: "What is it?"

"Doctor, the patient's unstable again. He's…" The young man said hurriedly, but her father brusquely interrupted him: "This is not the place to talk about it. I'm coming."

The young man nodded and left. In the distance, Enlar heard some faint screams and then a door being shut abruptly.

Her father caressed her hair and smiled, but to her it seemed a very fake expression.

"Do you really have to go?" She asked him, saddened.

"Yes. You know, darling, they need me." He replied, then left the room with another weak smile.

With the music disappearing from her ears, Enlar suddenly opened her eyes and found herself hugging the pillow with her hands clenched. Realizing she had almost been dreaming, she sighed quietly.

His patients. He devoted his life to them, they even came before his own family.

And that's why he died in the end.

Clenching her fists, Enlar rejected that thought with all her might.

Too late, sweetheart.

She saw again that cold moonlight. The door, that door which led to the mental asylum beside their house standing ajar. And that door was always locked, had always been until that night.

Her cold, bare feet on the icy pavement as she went through.

And then…

Enlar broke into sobs, unable to restrain herself. She immediately pushed her face in the pillow, so that she wouldn't wake anyone. She didn't allow herself to think about that day often, because she knew it would always end like that.

I'm nothing more than a frightened child when I behave like this. And I hate myself when this happens.

Enlar thought these things angrily, still trying to calm down. Now even the last echo of her sweet melody had faded, and she doubted she would have been able to rest that night.

Matthew was lying on his bed, arms crossed beneath his head, when he heard a faint sob coming from the nearby room. Frowning, he thought it to be the result of his tired mind; then, however, the sound came again. Now it seemed like someone crying and trying to muffle the noise with a pillow or something.

Snotty brat? He thought suddenly. Sitting upright, he kept listening. Who else could it be? For all he knew, they were the only ones resting in that hall.

The sounds kept coming, but now they were feebler. For a moment, Matthew had the weird idea to go and check on her.

Are you insane or what?

Sighing, he shook his head. He had absolutely no idea on why she should be crying, but he felt there was nothing he could do. What was he supposed to say, upon comforting her? Moreover, did he even want to comfort her?

He spent so much time cogitating, that in the end he was surprised to discover the sobs had quieted down. Now, the fire's crackling was the only available sound.

With a shrug, Matthew lay back on the bed. Probably it had been only a moment of discomfort, nothing more than that. And, even if it had been a totally different matter, why did he bother caring?

'Cause she's a pain in the ass, came to his mind so quickly that he smiled. A pain in the ass, correct, but that day she had also saved him.

Matthew didn't really remember what had happened during the time he had been in the grasp of fever. The only thing he could recall, he had chosen not to voice it aloud. His fear of death, of a sudden punishment for what he had done years ago which had come in the guise of a burning fever.

But he had been saved. Once again he lived, while they kept lying cold in the icy ground of that forgotten graveyard.

For the hundredth time, banishing that thought away, he wondered why she had saved him. Theirs wasn't a normal journey: all they did was trying to save each other from the impending perils. At least they survived and went on, Matthew thought as he closed his eyes. That had been a long, wearing day. Dismissing every unpleasant memory, he fell asleep.

The following morning, Enlar woke up finding herself still clutching the pillow tightly. Raising her head drowsily, she remembered the previous night and thought that probably she had cried herself to sleep.

Glancing out of the big windows, she noticed it was well past dawn: she had overslept. Throwing the blankets away, she dressed quickly and went out the room. As soon as she set foot on the hallway, though, she bumped into Matthew.

"Hey, snotty brat! I was just wondering whether you had decided to sleep forever or something." He exclaimed with a grin.

Cursing herself, Enlar shook her head: "No, I was just very tired and didn't realize how late it was. Now, however, we can go."

Matthew made as if to reply, then Miranda appeared on top of the stairs before them: "All rested up?"

"Yes, thanks for your great help." Enlar told her with a smile. Miranda sighed and shook her head: "it's nothing, I wish I could help you more and come with you, but I really can't. Will you be off this morning?"

Matthew nodded: "This very instant. We have to reach Furni and embark on the Queen Fury."

Miranda raised an eyebrow, curious: "So you'll most likely spend the night already aboard, since Furni isn't that far from here. You'll reach it safely."

Enlar nodded: "I hope so."

Miranda accompanied them to the Crystal Palace's main entrance, then waved them goodbye: "I wish you good luck."

Enlar and Matthew thanked her, then left.

As they walked, Enlar noticed her companion to be very stupefied on his surroundings. Just like the previous day, indeed, not a soul could be seen among the snowy roads.

"Are they all sick?" Matthew asked in the end, his voice full of doubt and disbelief.

"Sick or afraid. Even the healthy ones have chosen to live secluded, in the firm belief that they will avoid the disease."

Matthew frowned, but didn't reply. Soon, they left Deningrad and his sick citizens behind them as they ventured towards Furni.

To their surprise, that day's journey didn't bear many mishaps: as they walked, the weather became gradually warmer and the road easier to cross. Occasionally, they encountered the usual wild beasts, which were immediately taken care of.

Then, almost at noon, the sky rapidly darkened and huge drops of rain began pouring on them.

Enlar craned her head to the sky, feeling a sense of inner peace as thunders echoed in the distance. She had always loved rain, and that was the first actual downpour she witnessed in Endiness.

"What are you smiling about? We're getting awfully wet!" Matthew exclaimed peevishly, and she suddenly came back on earth. He was right, and her sense of reassuring calmness was wiped away by his tone.

"There's nowhere in which to stay until it stops, and it's too dangerous under the trees. We have to go on." She replied after quickly scanning the area around her.

Matthew sighed: "This is terrible. I only hope Furni is near."

So they kept walking, more sluggishly now, but nevertheless proceeding. Thankfully, the rain wasn't that strong and they didn't find many difficulties along the path, so that they were able to reach Furni only two hours later.

The salty air of the city immediately struck Enlar's nose. It somehow spoke of home, since her house had been near the seaside. The still-falling rain rendered the city's landscape even more beautiful: just like in the game, houses and shops were built on large platforms separated from each other by Furni's canal. That place reminded her of Venice, an Italian city she had once visited with her family. There, people called the gondoliers carried people back and forth through the city on a small, fancy-shaped ship named gondola. Furni, though being thousands of times smaller than Venice, reminded her of that magical city in which she had spent happy days with her loved ones.

Matthew, beside her, didn't seem less impressed by it all. Enlar suddenly thought that they had been granted a great fortune: those places had never been visited by someone of their world, they were the first and only ones to be allowed such a thing.

Both awakening form their reverie, they went to a nearby house and rented a small raft to move freely in the city. Soon after, they entered the local inn.

The owner greeted them with a huge smile, his black moustache remarkable on his pale, plump face: "Come in, come in, travelers! You must be tired and in need of rest, with such weather!"

Enlar smiled politely, but kept her distance: "Thanks, but we're in a hurry. Is the Queen Fury docked in the port?"

The man raised his eyebrows in surprise: "My, no! Otherwise, you would have spotted it from a distance, given its size!"

Matthew and Enlar looked at each other, frowning. The man, noticing their expression, smiled again: "But don't worry, it'll be back soon from Fueno and will leave immediately after, since today there's also the longer cruise for the wonderful flower city Donau. Would you like to buy tickets, perhaps?" He added charmingly.

Enlar took out their purse and nodded: "Yes, please. Two tickets."

With another knowing smile then man nodded and bent under the counter to get them. Enlar found it odd for him to have the tickets in such an unusual place, but didn't say anything on the matter. She found Matthew staring at her with amusement, and she could just shrug in return: the inn owner was a peculiar man, but as long as he gave them their tickets, there wouldn't be a single reason to complain.

"Aye, my lady, I'm looking for the spare ones inside these drawers because the regulars have run out." The man's voice puffed from beneath the large wooden furniture.

"Oh, finally! Here they are!" He exclaimed after a while and emerged, his face the color of a juicy tomato. Huffing and panting, as if he had just performed the world's hardest chore, he took two tickets from the carnet and handed them over: "It's five hundred gold pieces, two-fifty each."

Without frowning the least, knowing nothing of ship tickets' price in Endiness, Enlar counted the money and placed it on the counter: "Thanks. Say, will it take long for the Queen Fury to return?"

The man shrugged: "No more than an hour, I dare say. Although, with this weather, things might get difficult. Anyway, you can wait here and warm yourselves: I bet you've been out there in the rain for hours."

Enlar nodded and looked around her. Almost immediately, she spotted a nifty cherrywood table near the inn's fireplace and headed for it. There was also a window nearby, and from that spot she could see the port clearly.

The Queen Fury won't arrive unnoticed, she told herself as she relished the fire's warmth. Furni was a lot warmer than Vellweb or Deningrad, but still the rain had chilled her to the bones. Raising her head, Enlar noticed Matthew was approaching at a rather slow pace, his face contemplative.

"Will you hand me the purse, please?" He asked her as soon as he reached the table. Frowning, Enlar put the small leather bag in his outstretched hand. Matthew simply took it and went to the counter once again, asking something she didn't quite hear.

Outside, the rain was still falling hard: there weren't many people around, although Furni was far from being a ghost town affected by the disease like Deningrad. Glancing at a nearby tree, Enlar noticed its leaves where constantly shaken by the wind. Concerned, she crossed her arms as she leaned against the back of the inn's comfortable armchair. Maybe their cruise wouldn't be so easy after all. She only hoped the wind wouldn't strengthen, for it would become nearly impossible for the ship to sail in such conditions.

Matthew's return suddenly snapped her out of her cogitation. He sat opposite her, holding a tiny glass in one hand. It was filled with an ochre liquid which suddenly reminded her of the bottles always stocked in her father's liquor cabinet. Bottles that had been very rarely touched, for Doctor Marden had never been much of a drinker.

"What are you doing?" Enlar asked Matthew, eying him without really being able to discern what lay behind his composed expression.

He just shrugged: "Just a small drink to obtain some warmth. That damned rain almost froze me."

"Alcohol doesn't warm anything." Enlar replied, but then returned to her previous occupation of staring out of the window. He could do whatever he wanted, and besides a drink wasn't that terrible. It was his attitude that alarmed her, for he was behaving queerly: if he had just come with that drink with his usual mocking air, she would probably never have said anything in the first place.

The landscape before her kept being doused by the rain and pierced by the wind, and still no sign of the Queen Fury coming.

Matthew, in the meanwhile, drank silently. The way he was holding the glass seemed to Enlar almost tender, as if he were cradling the brown liquid between his cupped fingers.

"Who's Rachel?" Enlar suddenly asked, the words spilling out of her mouth even before she could think them.

Matthew abruptly raised his head and stared at her, his eyes full of pure and sudden anger: "Shut up."

Enlar blinked, taken aback by his reaction: "It was just a question, I didn't-"

"Shut up, I said. Don't you dare speak her name." He retorted, emptying his glass in one gulp and crashing it loudly on the table.

The inn owner looked up, suddenly frightened by the noise, then lowered his eyes as if pretending not to have heard or seen anything.

Enlar stared at Matthew, not knowing what to say. The only thing she could come up with was that she should have kept her mouth shut, instead of asking silly questions and making him angry. Now Matthew was indeed enraged: Enlar believed she had never seen him like that, ready to smash everything out of pure fury.

Breathing rapidly, Matthew passed a hand through his face and bit his lip: "Where did you hear it, anyway?"

"You called me so when you were feverish." Enlar replied apologetically.

He looked into her eyes once more, as if to ascertain whether she was telling the truth or not. He seemed to believe the former, for after a long pause he sighed: "I see. Nonetheless, shut your mouth. It's none of your fucking business, clear?"

Clear, Enlar consented in her own mind, but couldn't help wondering.

Everyone has its own share of burdens, a voice inside of her spoke.

Isn't it the same for you? Would you tell him what happened when-

No. No, she would not. And would not remember, either. She had been wrong to ask in the first place, creating yet another quarrel between them.

Suddenly, the sight out of the window changed and caught all of her attention. A huge and imposing ship was slowly making its way into the port, seemingly uncaring of the pouring rain.

"The lady of the sea is back." Mused the inn owner quietly, polishing a glass with a silken cloth. Matthew gazed out of the window and stood, quickly turning away and heading for the door.

Enlar sighed inaudibly and did the same, nodding a silent farewell to the man behind the counter.

They left and walked out under the rain again.

They soon reached the port, where the Queen Fury was coming to a stop. Enlar wasn't really amazed by its size: she had seen much bigger and modern ships in her life, and they hadn't even been possession of kings. Nevertheless, given the current development of Endiness's technology, she had to admit it was an admirable vessel.

Matthew strode past a horde of people which was just beginning to disperse after the cruise. Many had a small luggage, whereas others could only rely on the set of clothes they wore. Maybe they had come all the way from Fueno or even Lidiera in hopes of finding a better job, something to do with their dull lives.

All of this, Matthew either didn't care or was too angry to notice: Enlar saw him heading directly for the small bridge used to get on the Queen Fury.

He even forgot I have the tickets, thought Enlar as she pushed other people in order to slowly make her way toward him.

She reached the bridge just when Matthew started speaking with the man standing beside the ship's large opening.

"Well, sir, the ship won't leave Furni for another hour and half," the man clad with a blue attire was saying: "But if you really want you can already get aboard, as long as you show me your ticket."

Matthew began to mutter something, then probably remembered that he couldn't comply to the man's request and turned to face Enlar.

She took a few steps forward and handed the man their tickets: "Here they are. Can we go now?"

When he saw her his smile widened considerably; he showed them the way by spreading a gloved hand: "Of course, lady. Welcome to the Queen Fury! Have a nice cruise: even though there may be some hardships with this weather, just keep calm and enjoy yourselves."

"Thanks." Enlar replied almost absently as she walked the small bridge. As soon as she left the rainy afternoon outside, she entered a totally different place.

The Queen Fury's interiors were averagely lit by lamps and candles carefully set on the walls, on the several pieces of fine furniture and on the stairs' rails.

From the ceiling hang a huge decorative crystal spiral, which shone dimly in that quiet atmosphere. Enlar watched all of this with amazement: the ship had changed immensely since Dart and the others had used it during their journeys. Now it seemed indeed a place fit for taking tourists or common people up and down the coast. She even fancied she heard some music in the distance.

A familiar smell reached her nose: smoke, cigarette smoke at first, then the one that came out of the chimneys. Overall, the Queen Fury looked like a huge pub just getting ready for a raving night.

Enlar wasn't sure whether she liked the changes or not.

Gripping her own belongings tighter without any apparent reason, she tried to orient herself in that new setting. Matthew, without giving her a single glance, walked away and disappeared in a shadowy corridor on her right.

Watching him go, Enlar shook her head. She only hoped his anger would subside soon, for traveling with him in that mood was even harder than normal.

She looked around once more, searching for someone kind enough to tell her the cabins' location.

That main hall, however, was oddly deserted. Without wasting any more time, Enlar took a random hallway and started exploring. Every step she took, she could feel the sea rocking the ship with its power.

And we're still anchored. She thought, a distant worry crawling in her stomach. She quickly dismissed the matter and went on, looking at each door she encountered. Enlar even tried some knobs, but they were all locked tightly.

After some minutes of uneventful attempts, she began to get annoyed. What kind of service they offered, up there in the Queen Fury? Maybe wandering in empty and semi-dark hallways was a kind of hobby for the tourists, some kind of game.

Hunt for your room, she sarcastically pondered as she turned around a corner. Then, in front of her, she saw a girl walking away with a huge basket full of linen.

"Hey, you!" Enlar called before the girl could vanish into yet another corridor. She turned, seemingly irritated for the interruption, and shot her a questioning glance. Enlar approached her: "I'm looking for my cabin. I was wondering if maybe I should try every single door on this ship, since I've found no one to tell me where to go."

The girl, who was actually very young, gave her an annoyed look: "You're early. Later on, you would have found plenty of people to greet you and show you the way."

Enlar just stared at her meaningfully. She noticed the girl was wearing an unusual outfit for her work: a tight corset, very low-necked, exposed her breast generously. The lower part of her slender body was covered by a small skirt which fell down to mid-thigh.

What has really become of this place? Enlar found herself wondering.

The girl shook her head and grunted in a very unladylike way: "These tourists! Always wanting to be attended with the utmost care!" She made a gesture towards Enlar and walked down the corridor where she had just come from. Grasping at a keyring attached to a small, red belt she wore, she unlocked one of the many black doors and yanked it open. Then, as if suddenly regaining all of her composure, she smiled coldly and waved a hand: "Please, lady, come in. Make yourself at home."

Enlar frowned, then muttered an almost inaudible thanks and went inside. The cabin was dark and bare, but still it had a bed. A place to sleep on, as Enlar saw it. She guessed it was a kinda ok room to spend a night.

When she turned to see whether the weirdly attired girl was still there, she couldn't find her.

Good riddance.

Enlar threw her belongings on the floor and neared the small window on the wall opposite the door. The water, outside, was dark and raging. It treacherously clashed on the side of the Queen Fury, and Enlar had a sudden vision of the ship being torn apart in the middle of a storm.

She retreated quickly, finding that she didn't want to stay in that cabin after all.

It felt like being in a grave, and that made her stomach twitch anxiously.

She found a spare key on a basic night table and left the cabin, locking the door and taking along only her sword.

Enlar looked up and down the corridor, then started retracing her steps. There was a place she wanted to visit, and probably that was the appropriate moment to do so.

She returned to where she had started her wandering, but instead of entering another dark hallway she climbed a small set of stairs and went up the bridge.

The wind immediately caught her as she climbed out of the suffocating ship's inner chambers. It was strong and it spoke of an incoming storm, one that would not have let the Queen Fury travel in peace for that night.

In that precise instant, however, Enlar couldn't have cared less. In spite the changes that had been made even up there, in fact, she could recognize that area fairly well. Her eyes spotted almost immediately what she had been looking for: another set of ladders, this one narrower and steeper, which led to the ship's highest point.

The one where Rose had stood during their brief cruise, contemplating what lay before and ahead of her. Where Dart had asked her about the Black Monster.

Enlar headed for the ladder, not even feeling the cold rain which had already begun to soak her long brown hair. She climbed to the very top, noticing that the wind was swaying her back and forth but determined not to abandon her goal.

In the end she succeeded, and when she set foot on that platform her breath was cut short.

The sea's wrath, from up there, seemed even more unstoppable. Gripping the handrail tightly, Enlar felt her hair blown away from her face as she leaned closer to that dark-blue abyss beneath her. In that very moment, standing on tiptoe in that spot suspended between thundering skies and raging waters, she felt so tiny and insignificant that she almost feared the weight of it all would crush her.

Closing her eyes, she kept holding onto the iron banister and waited till the ship left the port.

When she finally decided to come down, it was due to the unbearable rocking of the Queen Fury. Her hands hurt, and she wondered how much time she had spent gazing at the restless waves.

Inhaling deeply, Enlar went back inside the ship and looked around her. Now that the cruise had started, there were many people around: still, she could clearly notice that whatever they were getting ready would have taken place only later. Feeling tired, Enlar went again to her cabin and this time she decided to kill the wait by getting out of her wet clothes and warming herself with one of the bed's blankets.

The room was very dark, even though she had lit all the candles she had found.

It's in times like these I miss electricity the most, she pondered as she hid her face under the warm mattress.

Outside, the line that separated the sky from the sea disappeared and everything mixed into an everlasting darkness. If not for something that was still crawling up her spine, Enlar could even have found that cabin cozy.

Still, that weird feeling wouldn't go away. There was something disturbing her, and she guessed she knew what that was.

Matthew.

Yes, Matthew. Somehow, she felt there was something wrong with him at that precise moment. She knew, as much as she had known he had been in trouble when he had disappeared in the Death Frontier.

Throwing her blanket away, she sat on her bed and considered what she really felt.

Nothing that remarkable, she discovered. Only the pressing certainty that he was gonna get into troublesome situations.

Oh, damn you.

Enlar stood, dressed again and was out of the cabin only a few seconds after. She was clueless on why such things always seemed to happen; she only knew that she couldn't ignore it.

In a matter of minutes she reached the main hall and stepped into an old-fashioned version of a nightclub. Widening her eyes in stupor, she watched as countless people sat at small tables and drank gaudily. Here and there, half-naked girls danced to delight the customers.

Enlar walked amidst all of that confusion, her ears catching some weird music in the distance, and barely noticed the laughter that arose from some tables on her left.

If she had been in her own world, Enlar wouldn't have been the least upset by such a situation. Of course, she didn't enjoy spending her nights in such a fashion, but she had been invited countless times and knew what they were about.

It was seeing a thing like that in Endiness that had taken her aback: she hadn't expected it, and suddenly she realized how stupid she had been. Almost blind, not noticing even after meeting that young girl down in the corridor.

Not that the Queen Fury's tourists couldn't do whatever they pleased, but there was at least one of them that totally didn't belong there.

She saw Matthew after walking round the whole place twice. He was so well-hidden, amidst a cloud of smoke, that Enlar had missed him easily enough. Now that she had spotted him, though, his silhouette was unmistakable: he sat comfortably on a wooden chair, holding a half-empty bottle in his right hand. His left hand, in the meanwhile, was occupied in hugging a gorgeous lady that sat comfortably on his lap. He was laughing soundly, lost in his own dreamworld of pleasure.

Enlar felt an immediate rage rise within her: how could he behave so, when they had a mission to accomplish? How could he completely lose himself into alcohol, becoming nothing more than a mannequin who could hardly stand and let alone think coherently?

She clenched her fists, telling herself that she was simply overreacting. All she had to do was to drag him out of there and throw him in bed for a good measure. Then, everything would be fine.

Enlar approached the table, trying to restrain her fury by burying her nails into her palms.

The woman immediately noticed her, but gave her an annoyed glance and kept caressing Matthew with gloved hands.

You bitch, Enlar thought as she felt blood flowing in her mouth. She had bitten her lower lip too hard, it seemed.

Attempting her best to ignore her, she came even nearer: "Matthew."

Matthew raised his head, confused and surprised to hear his name: "What? Who? Who is calling me?"

"Matthew." Enlar repeated, this time louder. "We have to get out of this place."

"Oh, snotty brat! My dear companion!" He exclaimed enthusiastically. Glancing at the woman, he grinned: "I told you, dear little snotty brat here never leaves me alone! Thinks…thinks she has to babysit me!"

The woman laughed, a lustful and vulgar sound, and hugged him even closer: "Just ignore the muddy bitch and have fun with me, instead."

Matthew laughed back, and would probably have answered some more nonsense if not for the blow that landed on the table.

Enlar hit the wood so hard that some empty bottles resting on it fell and shattered.

Silence momentarily fell in the vast room, soon interrupted by new and fresh laughter. The woman, however, wasn't laughing anymore: she looked alarmed, as if she had spotted possible danger.

That was enough for Enlar. She pushed her away and gripped Matthew tightly by an arm, dragging him on his feet.

"Awh c'mon snotty brat, I was just beginning to have fun! Lemme stay…jus' a lil'more…" He began to whine, but Enlar didn't even listen. She led him out amidst general laughter, uncaring. Matthew kept complaining feebly, but in the end it wasn't that hard to take him away from there.

Enlar shoved him on the bridge, right in the middle of the storm, and then got out herself. The cold wind and the rain seemed to change abruptly Matthew's mood, for he frowned: "Why t'hell have you taken me up here? Dontcha see…it's rainin'?"

Enlar stood before him, eying him intensely: "Matthew, you're drunk. You can't even think properly."

"Me? Drunk? Bullshit." He said swaying from foot to foot: "Me's as fine as ever!"

She pushed him back and he fell on the wet bridge, unable to keep his balance.
"See?" Enlar retorted: "Can't even stand."

Matthew looked around him, as if trying to understand what had just happened, then he changed once more. Rubbing his wet hands on his already wet face, he stood again and managed not to fall: "Yeah, prob'ly you're right. I've started drinkin again and 'tis all your fault."

Enlar raised an eyebrow: "My fault?"

"Oh, yessir." Matthew exclaimed: "Of course! Who ever brought up that name? YOU. It was you, snotty brat. You made me do this, you always do."

"Naturally, my fault. I wonder why do I even bother talking to you in this state." Enlar commented, glancing away.

"It's ALWAYS you!" Matthew bawled, his screams fading in the storm.

"You, that don't understand, you that will never understand…'cos you must live with rich people who love and adore you and you've never ever seen death with your own eyes and-"

"Shut up!" Enlar shouted back, hurt by each of his words as if they were sharp daggers.

And for a wonder, Matthew did.

Enlar looked at him, rain washing over her face: "Drowning your pain by getting drunk is useless. As much as having that kind of women sitting on your lap and behaving like bitches."

Matthew seemed to consider this, then he did the last thing Enlar would have expected: he laughed heartily, craning his head upwards.

When he stopped giggling, he neared her with some staggering steps and grinned endearingly: "I can't believe it, snotty brat's jealous."

Then, before Enlar could even utter a word in response, he kissed her.

It was a rude kiss, and Matthew shoved her against a handrail in the process. Enlar's mind stumbled to a halt and she just stood there for a split second, not knowing what to do.

The answer came immediately after: the slap landed on Matthew's face so hard that he recoiled hastily, blinking furiously against the falling rain.

They stared at each other for endless moments. Enlar felt her face burning with rage and shame, but she wouldn't have lowered her gaze: not even under torture.

Matthew, after that foolish gesture, seemed to have lost his tongue.

"You…" Enlar whispered in the end, noticing that her voice was inaudible in the storm. Yet, near as he was, she was sure Matthew would have heard.

"It's you who will never understand, stubborn and stupid as you are."

With that said, she shoved him away and hurried back inside the Queen Fury.

Matthew just stood there, his hand still on his burning cheek, and watched her go.