It's just as crowded in the Rowdy Raven as it had been the first time I had been there. Was that only a few days ago? It already feels like it's been a lifetime. A few unfamiliar faces call out to me, yelling slurred words about swords and "good fight!"

I wave back at them, grinning at the warm feeling of beginning to become part of a community. The energy and atmosphere helps ease some of the odd tension between myself and my companion.

Julian raises an eyebrow as we pass through the crowd. "Well, you're almost as famous as me!"

I laugh outright. "I don't think anyone will be as famous as you. Or infamous."

He mimes a wound to his side. "You slay me."

"Oh, you brought the warrior back!" a familiar voice booms from across the tavern. Gerhardt pushes easily through a cluster of people and makes his way towards us.

"Gerhardt!" I exclaim.

He pulls me into a bear hug, spinning me around once before setting me back down. "It's been too long."

"It's been 2 days," Julian corrects.

Gerhardt winks at me. "Far too long to be without your company, fair lady."

I blush. "Flatterer."

"Only if it works."

"Alright, good to see you Gerhardt." Julian moves closer towards me, frowning at our friendly interaction.

"Don't be jealous, Devorak. I'm no real competition."

"Not even with a sword in your hand."

Gerhardt hoots at my jibe. "What'll you have?"

I let them take care of ordering drinks and occupy myself with people watching. The old crones are back at their table, and a group of men with the bearing and gait of seafarers are crammed into a booth.

How would I know how a seafarer looks, I wonder to myself.

The thought is broken when Julian slides a mug towards me, raising his own in a toast.

"To the cleverest woman in Vesuvia." He shoots me a dashing grin, which falters when I nimbly switch out his mug for my own before drinking. "Maybe a little too clever."

Gerhardt leads us to a booth as he regales us with stories from his homeland, which lies far away from Vesuvia.

"I ended up traveling with the Wanderers for a long time, and I saw a lot of cities, met a lot of people. Vesuvia had the work I was looking for, so I stayed."

"Who are the Wanderers?" I ask.

"Travelling folk," Gerhardt replies, then leans forward and drops his voice. "They say that every Wanderer is a witch, a whole folk blessed with magic. Some people celebrate their coming into town, and say that they have better medicines and remedies than a king could buy. And others fear them. They think they're unnatural: made bonds with dark demons, and curses are delivered on anyone who deals with them."

"And you? What do you think?" I'm enthralled. This story pulls at a thread in my mind. If he tells me more, then maybe I'll be able to catch it -

But Gerhardt leans back in his chair and shrugs. "They have good wine. That's what I think."

"I met a few of the Wanderers in my travels," Julian says. One long arm is thrown over the back of the booth behind my head. "On a ship. Unusual to see them travelling by water, it's almost unheard of."

My questions are endless, so I pick one to start with. "What were they doing on a ship, then?"

Julian blushes. "Well, it all started when I had gotten into a spot of trouble…"

We pass the time easily as Julian spins tales of his seafaring days, and Gerhardt counters with anecdotes from his own travels. Other regulars slip in to sit with us, bringing refills as they do, and before I know it we're trading insults and jokes back and forth, I'm getting tipsy, and I've ended up in Julian's lap.

I think it happened when one more person tried to scoot in on our side. I was either pushed onto his lap, went voluntarily, or he pulled me. I don't remember, and I don't care, because it feels nice. He has one hand on my waist, the elbow of his other propped on the table. He drums his fingers idly as he listens to the story Gerhardt is telling about a bar he went to in some city whose name I couldn't clearly remember.

"They played the most amazing music there," he says, eyes drifting as he thinks. "But I can't remember what the instrument was called. It sounded like… glass shattering, but musical."

Julian bolts upright and leans forward with sudden intensity, pressing his chest against my back and craning his neck over my shoulder.

"I know that one! It's -" he stops short, suddenly aware of his cheek next to mine. Our eyes meet, gazes hot. "It's time for us to leave."

He hoists me abruptly out of the booth and to my feet, where I wobble unsteadily as he then grabs my hand and all but drags me out of the Raven.

"Bye, Gerhardt!" I call back as we exit into the street.

Gerhardt replies, but it's too loud to hear what he's saying - something about a tab, who's going to pay?

And then the street is blissfully silent as the door swings shut. Julian pauses for a bare second before pulling me in another direction.

"Where are we headed now?" I inquire, feeling surprisingly light on my feet for all the drink I've had.

Julian doesn't reply. When I glance up at his face, his expression is dark and cloudy and it makes my stomach drop. A mere moment ago he was giving me a look altogether different.

"Julian?"

He flicks his eyes in my direction but doesn't look at me, and I fall silent, trying to enjoy the night air and not worry about this sudden shift in mood.

He leads us all the way to the shore, straight onto the sand, and silent the whole way. Julian walks ahead of me, a tall black silhouette against the rocky shore. There's a tension to him that's been building all day. It feels like it's about to crash over both of us.

I drop my eyes, following the waves ebbing gently on the shoreline. Just ahead, his shiny black boots stop at a rotting wood pier. All around us is silence, broken only by the waves. Eventually, Julian takes a deep breath, lips parting to speak as he stares out into the endless ocean and the fathomless stars above.

"Feel that breeze? A nice night for sailing, don't you think?" He shakes his head, eyes dropping to stare down past the dock, and speeds into his next train of thought before I can even begin to formulate a response (again, what do I know about sailing?) "Rose, listen. We really need to talk." I turn my head so he doesn't see me rolling my eyes. "We've needed to talk all day. I guess I was enjoying myself too much to take the plunge."

"I had fun today, too." Even if this moment isn't all that enjoyable…

I have an idea about where Julian is going with all of this. He's tense and distant, but I still actually did enjoy my time with him today. It wasn't a conventional outing by any means, but getting to see him in the city, a smile on his face… that felt good.

"Really?" He smiles at me gently. "Even the part where I destroyed a fortune of fruit? Or accidentally crashed a play?"

I giggle, nervousness about what's to come temporarily forgotten. "Even then." I laugh again. "Especially then."

I haven't gotten to see much of the city outside my own neighborhood. It was exciting, getting to be part of the community. Seeing what things could be like.

"The people in town seem to love you," I observe. A subtle prod that things aren't as dire as he seems to think they are. It doesn't work.

"They're good people. Hardworking, dedicated. But covering for me is putting them in danger. I know they'd take any chance to get back at the palace. Can't fault them for that. If anything happened to them because of my mess… I'm a disaster waiting to happen, Rose. And… I don't want that disaster to happen to you, too." Julian drops down to sit at the edge of the pier, feet dangling over the water. The heels of his boots skim the surface.

I sit next to him, my feet not even coming close to the surface, our shoulders bumping together. He leans towards my touch, like he craves it.

"Ilya-" I start, but he cuts me off.

Lifting his hand and pointing to an island, black against the night sky on the water's horizon, he says, "See that island? It's called the Lazaret. It's where the city sent their infected, during the height of the plague. A perfect monument to my failures. Always visible from the shore, always reminding the city how much it suffered. Every death, every body burnt in those pits is another mark against me. And there are so many marks…" He turns his left hand over, no doubt contemplating the mark there, too. "I don't want to drag this out, Rose. This, whatever it was, whatever it could have been. It has to end. Before it's too late for you. I'm only going to end up hurting you somehow, I know it."

"I'm not afraid of pain."

"You shouldn't be so cavalier with your own safety, Rose."

It takes a lot of effort to keep my tone even. "I could say the same to you. What you're doing isn't healthy."

"I'm only trying to protect you -"

"I don't need protection."

Julian's face falls. "That's all I can offer you. I'm not a good man. The things I've done… I did something unforgivable. I must have. Where else does this pit in my stomach come from? I won't have you come down this path with me. You deserve better than that."

None of the reasons he's given me so far have anything to do with our relationship. I'm dangerous. I'll hurt you. You deserve better. None of them tell me how he feels about me. It hasn't been that long, but in a way, it has. We met once during the plague, and I get the feeling that our relationship goes deeper than that. Last night at Mazelinka's when we were laughing, or earlier today when I had a memory that I can't remember now - they all point to a deep link between the two of us.

And Julian is going to cut that link, because he thinks he's done something terrible.

I wonder briefly if it's worth arguing. He's deadset (pardon the language) on his own demise, on some terrible end that he believes he's destined for. And I've just been awoken to a whole new side of myself that I would never have dreamed existed. I want to explore that - I want to live and explore and meet people. And Julian...

So I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Fine. I'll leave."

It doesn't matter what I say, because he won't listen to me. For now, it's probably better to give him some space.

"Listen, Rose, it's not you, it's me, I- Wait, what? You're leaving?"

He scrambles to his feet as I stand, hands flying out to take mine, then stopping just before they brush skin. He pulls back, quickly trying to hide the distress on his face.

"At least… let me walk you home. It's dark, and you never know what scoundrels are about in the shadows."

Isn't he one of those scoundrels? That's what he's been trying to tell me all night long, right?

We stare at each other for a long moment. Neither one of us wants to leave. So why do we have to? I shift my eyes back to the ocean just as Julian clears his throat.

"Better get you back home before the guards start making their rounds."

It's a flimsy excuse, and the look on his face says he knows it. There's no use fighting him. I nod, and let him escort me back to the shop.

Julian slides his hands into his pockets as he leads me off the beach and back into town. Every so often he opens his mouth to say something, then makes a face and closes it again. And me? I stay silent, trying to hold myself together. I feel sad and angry. They're paltry words that barely skim the depth of my emotion, but they're the only words I can think of right now. I'm simultaneously fuming and holding back tears.

What a frustrating idiot. Ending something great before we can even find out just how good it could actually be. Self-sacrificing, dramatic, insincere, lying -

"Well, here we are." There's a note of finality in his voice. "At your shop." He swallows. "End of the line." We come to a stop right outside the shop door. "When I came back to Vesuvia, I was seeking answers. Finding you… That was a rare treat."

He reaches out, hand hovering over my shoulder. Unsure whether he's allowed to touch me more. Then he shakes his head, and leans forward to press a kiss on each cheek, lips lingering just a second longer than he should.

"Thank you, my dear. The time we spent together, however brief… it mattered to me. I won't forget it."
With a whirl of his cape, he's gone, footsteps echoing down the sidestreet, then fading away, too.

I watch him go, and when he's out of sight, my anger dies out, and the sadness takes over.

Is despair too dramatic? I wonder, and Mephisto lands gently on my shoulder.

Comfort? He asks. I smile as he butts his head against my cheek.

You know, for such a big, scary bird, you're actually quite sweet.

He caws loudly in protest, but doesn't fly away.

Turning my back on Julian Devorak, I go home.

The shop smells like cinnamon when I walk inside, a thin trail of steam wafting down from upstairs. Every lantern is already lit, casting the shop in warm, flickering light.

Asra pokes his fluffy head down the stairwell, grinning brightly when he sees me standing there.

"Back from your jaunt at the palace? Welcome home, Rose." He pauses at the bottom of the stairs and looks me over. "I recognize that look. What happened?"

I purse my lips. "I don't want to talk about it."

Asra's been gone since this whole thing started. I have almost as many questions for him as I have for everyone else around me. But he just gives me another smile, kind and carefree, and wraps an arm around my shoulders.

"Then you don't have to talk about it. Come upstairs, I made that tea you like. You look like you could use it."

I trudge up the stairs, feeling heavy after such a long outing. My thoughts turn to Julian, disappearing into the darkness, and my heart aches. Will he really try to face this thing alone? All to spare my feelings, to keep me safe?

Something smooth and cold slithers over my feet as I reach the top step. When I look down, Faust is staring up at me. I bend down to scoop her up, and then settle at the little table in the corner, watching Asra bustle in the kitchen.

"Rose… Fuast tells me you've been spending time with Ilya. Julian." I can't make out his tone.

"Mmhmm. I was. Not anymore."

"Oh. No wonder you don't want to talk about it. Say no more, I know exactly what happened. He decided what was best for you and wouldn't listen even when you told him he was wrong, right? Probably right after jumping headfirst into a relationship with you. Featuring at least one dramatic speech. Knowing him, probably more. Well? How did I do?"

Unfortunately, too well. That at least clears up how Asra and Julian know each other. I'm annoyed his pinned down the issue so accurately.

"Seems like you have personal experience with his antics."

Asra nods. "I know Ilya. The only thing he loves more than drama is his own suffering. And he's determined to chase both."

"That's not true." I think, anyway.

"Isn't it? It's easy to forget when you're around him. He fills the room with excitement. Makes you feel special. And then he finds some way to sabotage it. I've never met someone so dedicated to their own unhappiness as Ilya."

"Doesn't he deserve to be happy?"

"Don't you?" Asra shakes his head and leans back in his chair, letting out a long sigh, and takes a sip of tea. "Ah, you know I can't tell you what to do. You're your own person, you can make your own bad decisions. Just… please be careful with him. Oh! That reminds me. Do you still have the deck I left you?"

Grateful for the change of subject, I nod, pulling the cards out from my pocket. They seem excited to be near Asra again, like they missed him.

He passes his hand over them, and when he moves again, they've vanished from the table.

Tension ebbs from his shoulders, some shadow easing from his eyes. He looks… relieved.

"You… you're alright, right? Nothing strange happened with the deck…?" He shakes his head, hair falling into his eyes as he clears his thoughts. "You're home. I'll make us some dinner."

Asra slides languidly to his feet and starts to clink around in the kitchen, humming idly to himself. I stare down at the mug cupped between my hands, left alone with my swirling thoughts. Whatever happened today, whatever will happen tomorrow, however this whole story plays out… Somehow, I know I'm not done with Julian yet.