I was roused from slumber by a gentle caress, fingertips stroking along my temple, skirting down my jaw, weaving through my hair. My first instinct was to react, eyes shooting open to spot any possible threat; the room was shrouded in darkness, and it took me a while to realise I recognised the smiling face in front of me, my own gaze met by Emily's amber stare.

"You looked so handsome while you slept," she spoke in a soft murmur, roaming my features. I took a deep breath to calm my heart, watching her and trying to decipher the cluster of passing emotions that danced in her eyes. "Did I frighten you?" she then asked, thumb stroking my cheek.

I opened my mouth to speak, realising I didn't know what to say. Instead, I closed my mouth again, raising my own hand to caress her face in return, allowing my fingertips to dance down her skin. Her smile widened at my touch, lips pulled into an expression of contentment. "You look happy," I noted instead.

"Mhm," she hummed, closing her eyes as her hand took hold of mine, wrapping her fingers around the limb, holding it to her face, legs rubbing along my own beneath the blankets. "I am."

I felt the corners of my lips twitch into an answering smile. Her hand rested on top of mine, fingers weaving through my own, and I marvelled at how small and delicate she appeared beneath my caress—she didn't flinch away from my touch.

She opened her eyes again, those amber depths sweeping over me. Her hand lifted mine, holding it between us, fingers pushing mine apart as her gaze trailed the digits.

"So what's the story behind these?"

My eyes followed hers as her fingers rubbed along the rings, polishing the shiny metal. "They were part of the ritual…" I turned my hand in hers, grasping her curious fingers, trapping them between my own. "One to bind the mortal body, and one to bind the immortal soul."

"So… like a marriage to yourself?" Her inquisitive gaze flicked up to meet mine.

"That's one way to look at it." I found myself smiling wistfully, taking in the way she had returned to trailing my hand, eyes glittering. An idea struck me, and I moved to slide the ring off my little-finger. I reached out for her left hand, holding it between us as I pushed the item down her ring-finger, next to where she'd worn her signet ring. It was a little big for her, leaving enough of a gap to move around. "You'll have to get it adjusted."

Her eyes darted between me and the too-large ring, a look of genuine surprise on her face—before she composed herself enough to send me another one of her teasing smirks. "Aren't engagement rings supposed to go on the right hand?"

I felt the corners of my own mouth twitch at her jest, a smug smile taking over as I wrapped her hand back in mine, holding it to my chest. "In my culture," my thumb stroked along the bumps of her knuckles, "we kept them on the left, where they are closest to the heart." I watched as her cheeks flushed, eyes turning round, staring at me in stunned silence. "Of course," I added in a soft voice, "you're free to wear it however you so please."

"You look radiant as always, Violet dear." Nadia smiled at Emily from her place behind the desk, a large novel clutched to her chest.

"Thank you, as do you," Emily beamed in return, and I didn't miss the slight skip in her step as she passed the woman, dark hair bouncing down her shoulders.

I followed behind, flanked by a silent Callista, unable to stop myself from eyeing the suspicious old inn-keeper—her weathered features betrayed nothing of her thoughts. She pursed her thin lips, turning her gaze to me, and it felt as if she was looking through me again, her observant stare leaving an itch all over my skin. Uncertain how I was supposed to greet the old woman, I averted my gaze instead.

"That's quite the honour you've awarded her," she spoke then, voice sending chills down my back.

I felt my skin heat as the words hit me, their sound overpowered by my own violent pulse, everyone's eyes turning to me. I paused, raising my hands in defence. "I- no-"

"The ring," Nadia clarified with an amused chuckle, pointing a finger at Emily's hand, her sharpness filling me with further unease, "although I'm sure you honour her in many other ways, too."

I didn't like the suggestiveness of her tone, or the pleased smile on her lips. Callista's questioning stare burned into my back, yet she didn't say anything. Emily rescued me by taking my hand in hers, dragging me behind her as she sent Nadia a smile over her shoulder. "Royally so."

"Are you even trying? Honestly?"

"It looks alright from where I'm sitting."

I crossed my arms, leaning back in my chair as I regarded the former Empress with a sceptical look. "Are you serious? You're joking, right? Because it looks like ass." I didn't miss the strange looks we received from some of the surrounding customers, all apparently preferring to eat their breakfast in stifling silence.

"One, you're being way too critical." She counted off her fingers, elbows leaning on the table again, another offence to her expensive teachings, at this point I decided all hope was lost. "And two, 'ass'? Really? Do you even know what an ass looks like?"

"Violet," Callista hissed.

"Though your deliberate disregard of an obvious hyperbole doesn't surprise me, it shouldn't come as a surprise to you that I do know what an actual ass looks like." I raised an amused brow. "Honestly, at this point I'm inclined to sympathise with Nora on the subject of you being a dreadful student with the attention span of a literal rock."

She started on a response, only to pause, lips parted and brow furrowed, until she collected herself, directing a challenging smirk my way. "A sexy rock, though," she raised her brows suggestively, "I bet I could make you rock-ha-"

"Violet!"

I couldn't contain my amused snicker at her words, uncrossing my arms as I leaned forward, mimicking her posture as I rested my elbows onto the table. "Careful now, last time I went rock-hard, I stayed that way for centuries," I purred, watching her face flush.

"Please—just, teach her and save the blatant innuendo for when I don't have an appetite to lose." Callista pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes as her brows pulled together. "Or better yet, when I'm not around to hear it." She moved to rub her face with her hands, massaging her temples. "Honestly, could we have one normal breakfast—for once?"

"My apologies, Nora." Emily sent her an overly sweet smile. "I promise we'll put in more of an effort to remain professional."

"I believe that would be for the best." Callista's voice was tense, back and shoulders a fraction too straight. "Especially once your father arrives."

Emily mirrored her straightness, raising her chin at the woman as she peered down her nose. "My father's presence should not be of any influence regarding our interactions—I'm no child who needs his scorn."

"Although I'm sure that is true, and you know I do wish you nothing but the best." Callista hesitated, gaze darting my way. "But I cannot guarantee your father will feel the same way. I think it goes without saying that there is something between the two of you that goes beyond… friendship."

"As I've entrusted you," Emily agreed, sharply, words hinting at a conversation I certainly hadn't been present for—when had that been?

"All I'm saying is, you have to consider the consequ-"

"We'll cross those bridges when we get to them," I interjected, a heavy weight pressing down on my chest once more. "Can you try again? Start with the 'Э'."

Emily glanced my way, a frown on her face, before looking down to the paper in front of her, its surface filled with numerous attempts at copying the ancient alphabet I'd written down for her. "This is going to take years to learn," she sighed, slumping in her chair. "Why don't you just translate everything for me?"

"Because, one, you're being too pessimistic—which is ironic coming from me—and two, this was your idea to begin with."

"I understand it's something you'd rather not think about, not right now at least, but tell me, have you at least considered what you plan on telling her father?" Callista walked next to me, the streets close to abandoned now afternoon had rolled around. We'd left the small cafe a few moments prior, after I'd spent the entire morning trying to tutor Emily.

"Have you?" I bounced the question back to her, turning my head to look her in the eye. Emily had been trailing behind us, constantly stopping to peer at the boutiques we passed, admiring the displays that lay behind panels of glass.

"I'm not one to meddle in others' affairs, as you must have noticed." Callista made a point to look me in the eyes.

"That doesn't answer the question." I met her gaze head on, unbudging beneath her stare.

She sighed, directing a pensive frown towards the streets ahead. "I'm not too fond of you-"

"As you've made clear," I spoke through gritted teeth.

"-and I wouldn't hesitate to say I think any sort of union between the two of you would be doomed from the start," she finished, rubbing her hands together to ward off the cold, and perhaps the unpleasant sensation left by her statement.

I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling the weight I'd felt earlier shift back into place. "I find that hard to argue with."

She returned her gaze to me, probing me for answers. "Tell me, what business does an immortal God have with some dethroned Empress?"

I frowned, hands balling to fists within the pockets of my coat. "I wouldn't know, as I am neither."

"Who are you then?" she snapped. "Because it seems to me you have the 'human' act down pretty well."

Her words had wrapped around my heart, but I refused to show it. "What makes you think I'm putting on an act?"

Callista stopped walking, regarding me with an unreadable look, a frown creasing her brow. I stopped as well, turning towards her, meeting her gaze without hesitation. She didn't move to speak, not yet.

"What makes one 'human'?" I asked then, the words turning to clouds of vapour between us. "Do I not have eyes to see, ears to hear, a heart to feel?" I tipped my head in question, ignoring Emily who I could see gazing through another window.

"A soul," Callista spoke in clipped tones, eyes still burning into mine.

I shrugged, glancing down at my boots before meeting her gaze. "If a soul, by its definition, is the incorporeal fiber of a living being, then doesn't the mere act of existing grant me one such thing?"

Her frown deepened as she raised her chin at me. "It is black magic that corrupts the soul, as it has no righteous purpose within a human heart."

I couldn't contain the bitter snicker at her words. "It's a good thing, then, that all of us are equally corrupted, seeing as I marked both her and her father." Callista didn't seem all too surprised by the admission, and I reckoned Emily most likely let something slip. I licked my lips, glancing Emily's way before narrowing my eyes at Callista. "What is it you said to her?"

"That is between the two of us, but if you must know; I told her she's an idiot."

"That certainly didn't do anything to deter her."

"I suppose." There was something off about the way she said the words, but I couldn't put my finger on it. "But if you couldn't change her mind, then I doubt I stood a chance."

Her eyes darted to something behind me, but before I could follow her gaze I was startled by a sudden chill, clumps of ice biting into my sensitive back. I gasped, my hands shooting to the back of my coat, trying to find the source of the cold. I paused at the sound of laughter, its bubbling melody freezing me more than the ice had. Turning my head, I was met by a mischievous looking Emily, bits of snow still clinging to her hands.

"You're not just going to take that... are you?" she taunted, daring me to enact revenge.

I gaped at her, trying to process that she had just dumped handfuls of snow down my clothes. She waited for me to respond, and when it seemed I wasn't she bent down to pick up more snow. My reaction was instant, my body springing back to life, hands reaching to grab hers, only to fail as she easily evaded my attempt. I was about to tell her to stop when another handful of snow was dumped into my face, the cold burning my cheeks.

"Come on now, you're faster than that," she teased, backing away, already gathering more of the icy substance into her hands. I rubbed at my face, trying to wipe away the melting powder, droplets of freezing water running down my skin.

"Violet, it is improper for a lady your age to be-" Callista started, only to be interrupted by a shriek from Emily as I kicked a wave of snow towards the former Empress, white powder flying through the air. She raised her hands in an attempt to shield herself, and I used the distraction to gather my own heap, tightly pressing the substance into a ball before hurling it her way. The act caused my skin to heat, adrenaline edging me on to keep on going, to bury the defiant girl in mountains upon mountains of frost—she was laughing as she wiped at her face, clearing away the clumps. I had started gathering more ammunition when I was thrown to the ground, straddled by a grinning Emily, her hands pinning mine above my head. I panted beneath her, body engulfed in snow, its cold soaking through my coat.

"Admit I'm superior and beg me for mercy," she demanded, a sly grin spreading from ear to ear.

I stared up at her, chest dancing as her weight pressed down on my stomach. Her grip was firm, and I was aware there'd be no way for me to escape, my untrained abilities no match for her skills. Still, I felt defiance spark within me, an amused smirk pulling at my lips.

"Are you trying to be funny, or are you this preposterous because you don't know any better?"

She feigned indignation at my words, lips parting in a mocking gasp. "Well I've never!" There was no time for me to react as she released one of my arms to bury my face in snow. I struggled against her grip, trying to ward off the piling heap of cold as she continued to hold me down, legs trapping mine cleverly. I twisted my body beneath her, freed arm attempting to pull hers from mine after wiping the snow away. "Admit I'm superior and beg me for mercy, you low-life scoundrel," she repeated between her own peels of laughter.

I felt an amused chuckle escape me at the words, raising a brow at her frivolous demands. "Superior in what way, exactly?"

"Every way," she snapped, a smug smile on her lips.

"Violet, please, let the man go." Callista sighed from a distance.

"Not until he does as I say!" Emily giggled, clearly enjoying her own antics.

"You're being ridiculous," I chuckled, feeling the snow start to melt beneath me.

"Ridiculously superior," she quipped. "Now admit it and I'll let you go."

I had ceased my attempts to break free, dropping my hand somewhere above my head, mind working on an alternative plan. She hadn't attempted to recapture my arm, and I made sure to move the limb as surreptitiously as possible, fingers slowly digging themselves into the blanket of white powder above me. "It just so happens to be humanity's habitual hubris that has led many a ruler and peasant alike to their own undoing," I warned.

"Save the monologuing for some other unfortunate mortal," she chaffed, pushing down on my legs for emphasis.

"As you wish," I conceded, feeling a sly smile twist my lips, causing Emily's brow to pucker. I moved as quickly as I was capable, catapulting a handful of snow towards her face, causing her to loosen her grip on me as she was left spluttering. I used the distraction to lift her, leaving her grappling in the cold as I jumped to my feet, making sure to stay a safe distance away from her. Droplets of water ran down my face, my neck, my back, leaving a chill in their wake. I panted, tufts of smoke exiting my lungs, dancing through the air around me, a victorious grin on my face. I watched Emily come struggling from the heap I'd left her in, wiping at the ice. She raised herself to her knees, fingers tucking strands of wet hair behind her ears, gaze finding mine, lips twitching as she regarded me with a look of surprise. I felt my pulse rush through my veins, the cold air burning my lungs, the ice still stinging my hands—and she had started laughing from her place on the ground, snow sticking to every inch of her, eyes sparkling with joy.

"Fine," she admitted, grinning up at me, the look in her eyes causing my heart to stutter. "You win."

"Oh my, has it been snowing?" Nadia questioned as we entered her inn, both Emily and I soaked and shivering.

"No." Callista's voice was drenched in disapproval as she closed the door behind us. "Violet thought it a good idea to have a snow-fight—never mind she's 25."

I caught the self-satisfied look Emily shot me, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from matching her expression.

Nadia chuckled. "One can never be too old for fun." She turned to us, warm smile still in place. "I suppose the both of you must be cold, allow me to take your coats, I'll have them dry and warm again in no time." She approached from behind her desk, and it was the first time I noticed her heavy limp. Emily had already moved to take off hers, but I hesitated, eyeing the nearing elder. "Don't worry, I'll return it to you," she spoke to me, "go get warm by the fire, it'll do the both of you good."

Emily handed hers over, uttering a grateful 'thank you' to the lady before glancing my way, sending me a look that urged me to cooperate. I gave in, pulling the wet fabric from my shoulders, watching Nadia as she waited, smile still on her face—causing me to question how she could continue to smile; didn't her old face get tired after so many decades of obvious pretence?

"Thank you," she spoke as I handed her my coat. "Go on, enjoy the fire, I'll put on some tea and you'll be warm again before you know it."

"Thank you so much, Nadia." Emily's hand wrapped around my arm. "Some tea would be lovely!" She pulled, directing me towards the fireplace, pushing me down onto the sofa before sitting down herself.

"Would you care to enjoy some tea as well, Nora?" Nadia turned to Callista, who still stood at the entrance.

"No, thank you kindly." I could hear the smile in her voice. "I think I'm going to head out again, pick up some errands I forgot about."

"Alright," Nadia replied, "perhaps when you return?"

"That would be lovely, indeed."

I wondered what kind of errands Callista could be talking about, but found myself distracted as Emily shifted against me. The sofa was surprisingly comfortable, its thick cushions dipping pleasantly beneath our weight. The fire had an immediate effect, the soothing crackle of flames consuming wood an almost nostalgic sound. Emily had cleverly manoeuvred her legs across my lap, shoes kicked to the floor, arms wrapped around my torso as she rested her head against my shoulder. I was reminded of burning chairs and stitched up wounds.

"You remember the old man; the one with the estranged children?" The heat that came rippling from the hearth warmed the both of us, bringing an end to our shivers.

"What old man are you talking about?" Emily sent me a look, but I didn't turn my gaze away from the fire, observing the way it continued to dance.

"When he was younger, he lost his heart to a girl—vowed she'd be the mother of his sons." I licked my lips, eyes staring, the smell of smoke and ashes prickling my nose. "Kathryn was her name, hair like threads of gold." I could still picture the both of them, their voices, their dreams, their ghosts. "She rejected him the first time, the second time as well. Of course, as the saying goes, the third time's nearly always the charm, or in most cases it just so happens to be. They were wed soon after, their first child a healthy daughter, their second as well. The man held on to his hope of a son, and sure enough, on the third try they succeeded." I paused, a frown pulling at my brow. "But it was their third child that proved to be too much for his dear Kathryn, and she lost her life during labour, taking their only son with her." I had allowed Emily to pull my arm around her shoulders, my fingers absentmindedly caressing her through her sleeve. "The man was unable to handle the loss of his love, his remaining children soon neglected as he turned to strong liquor, all to try and forget—but to him she proved unforgettable, as she had woven her golden thread all around him, all around her daughters who smiled and laughed just like her.

"He would grow increasingly frustrated the older they became, more and more they would resemble what he'd lost. He'd lash out in anger at their smiles, scream at their laughter—until his daughters grew scared and unfamiliar. During one particular night, the man found himself especially drunk. When he discovered one of his daughters with a boy she claimed she had grown to love... he lost it. It wasn't until he felt the blade between his ribs that he started to question himself, wonder what had happened to him—to them."

"That's awful." Emily tightened her grip around my stomach.

I felt a sigh escape me as I closed my eyes, the warmth of the fire melting away the stiffness of my limbs, turning them to liquid instead. "It's one of many."

"That's a rather cynical way of looking at it." I could hear the frown in her voice as she pressed her cheek against my shoulder.

"I find cynicism remains closest to the truth."

"Well how about this story then, it's about an Empress," she started, smirking up at me.

"Hm," I hummed, opening my eyes to send her a curious look. "Should be interesting then."

She awarded me a self-satisfied nod before continuing, my right hand wrapping around one of her legs. "This Empress is loved by many," she paused, "many people."

I rolled my eyes at her exaggeration. "That's a rather inventive way of looking at it."

She shoved my shoulder in response, earning herself a grin. "Then, as fate would have it, she meets this unbelievably sexy heretic."

I snorted at her words. "Watch out there, I hear such sentiments are frowned upon-"

"I see I'm interrupting something entertaining?" Nadia came shuffling towards us, carrying a tray of steaming tea in her hands, some of the hot liquid spilling from the cups.

"Oh, no, it's alright." Emily smiled, watching as the elder placed them onto the table in front of us, the former Empress's eyes clouding over as a thought seemed to strike her. "Would you mind sharing with us how you came to know your late-husband?"

"I thought you were telling a story?" I frowned, disappointed.

"I wouldn't want to intrude on the conversation..." Nadia hesitated, allowing herself to sink into one of the smaller chairs that flanked the couch.

"Nonsense." Emily waved a hand. "My story wasn't all that interesting—just another man with a god-complex." She shrugged, the fire's reflection dancing within her coy gaze.

I narrowed my eyes, wary of her.

"Speaking of." Nadia smiled wistfully. "I suppose my Peter was much like that."

I turned my narrowed gaze towards the elder, following her every movement. It irked me how Emily seemed taken in by the innkeeper; her stare still managing to send shivers down my back in spite of the crackling fire.

"I was born here, in Samara," she continued. "Never set a foot out of town. Sailors would come and go, all of them loved it here—for obvious reasons, I'm sure you're aware." She chuckled.

"I'm not," Emily admitted, glancing between the both of us.

"Prostitutes," I clarified below my breath.

"I believe I was 16 when he came into town, a foreign sailor, all talk of fascinating places around the Isles." Nadia took her tea, blowing at the steaming brew. "I worked here, at my parents' inn, and he stayed the week with his fellow crew. He thought me some simple girl, just another local. I remember it was around this time of the year, the festival drawing in all of Samara. The sailors too, of course, since there was plenty liquor to pass around. They would drink their bellies full of courage, before they went on their usual spree of—and you'll have to excuse my language—whoring." She winked, earning a giggle from Emily. "I bumped into him at the festival one night, real drunken mess, didn't think he'd need help getting back even though his mates had already left him. I didn't listen to his talk, instead I helped him stumble home. He complained the entire way, told of his esteemed parents back home in Morley, of their fine tastes in art and how a child like me would never understand such delicacies."

Emily bent forward to take her drink, glancing my way before offering me the remaining mug. I took it, watching the liquid swirl within its container, silently wondering whether drinking it could be considered safe or not.

"By the time we reached our street, he'd been reduced to a sobbing mess, admittedly home-sick and drunk out of his mind." She shook her head. "Next morning he was too embarrassed to look me in the eye. They left a few nights after that, didn't see him for years. I got on with my life, didn't really think of him much, until he returned when I was 24. By then I had taken over the inn, but I remained unmarried—an unusual thing for women my age. He didn't recognise me at first, but I knew it was him right away. He was as pompous as ever; blond curls, golden eyes, and an attitude that let you know he was aware of his looks. This time around, instead of avoiding me, he badgered me as if he had something to prove. I suppose he wanted to rectify his embarrassing breakdown all those years ago, still not over his moment of weakness."

"Typical men." Emily rolled her eyes.

"Well, I wasn't too impressed, and he later admitted that's what made him try all the harder. He would ask me out every night, even though I rejected him every time—I wasn't interested in a sailor; it was common knowledge they had a sweetheart at every port. The festival came around again… and of course, he got himself drunk." Her face had started to light up as she spoke, the corners of her lips twitching at the memory. "I bumped into him, and he dragged me towards the bonfire, insisting I go out with him or else he'd throw himself into its flames. I told him 'no'... and then the fool actually did it." She chuckled beneath her breath. "Burned his hair right off, and I decided then and there that I'd marry him if he'd ever ask."

"So how did you get the limp?"

"Matvey!" Emily gasped, turning her head towards me as she continued in a hiss. "You can't ask people such questions."

"You asked her about her dead husband, I don't see how one is more appropriate than the other." I scowled.

We were interrupted by Nadia's laughter, tea shaking in her hands. "That's alright. Tell me, Violet, if you don't mind me asking, what made you want to marry him?"

I sucked in my breath, eyes darting down to Emily's face. She seemed as taken aback as I, lips parted, gaze shooting up to meet mine.

"I can't name just a single thing." She shook her head, smiling for a moment, before it faltered, brow furrowing and eyes drawn to the fire. "I suppose, if I had to choose." She returned her gaze to me, flecks of gold dancing in those warm depths. "It'd be that he makes me feel safe—cherished."

I stared at her, momentarily forgetting about my snow-soaked clothes, the burning tea in my hands, Nadia's gaze that observed the both of us. She meant the words, and I felt them resonate within me, their meaning wrapping my heart in honey. I—The Outsider, Matvey, whomever I was—had made her feel contrary to whatever I'd previously believed.

"-you, Matvey?"

I blinked, shaking my head, gaze shooting between the two women. "What?"

"I asked what about you?" Nadia grinned, eyes glued to my face.

"Oh." I hesitated, turning to an expectant looking Emily, legs still draped across my lap, warming my skin through our clothes. "I don't think my opinions are of any real interest."

"Nonsense!"

"For once I'm actually interested," Emily teased, bringing a mirthful smile to my lips, my fingers fumbling with the fabric of her pants.

"Fine," I submitted, looking down at my hand, eyes tracing the hints of veins beneath my skin. "I think..." I started, already feeling my face start to burn. "It's because..." I felt their stares on me, stuttering heart leaving me dizzy. There were a million reasons why I admired her, why I thought she was fascinating; how was I supposed to pick a single one? I closed my eyes, trying to forget the burn of their gazes, instead focusing on my thoughts. "She—or you—just..." This was hard. This was horrifying. I felt the urge to make myself disappear, but I was trapped, so I pretended the both of them weren't there. It helped, to some degree, but my mind was hard to fool. "You're..." I furrowed my brow, thoughts flooded by scenes of transience, fragments too fragile to firmly grasp—all deeply ingrained with a foreign sense of belonging, of accession. My eyes fluttered open to look at her, clarity overcoming me, a genuine smile on my lips. "You're my home."

She'd dragged me up the stairs as soon as she'd finished her tea—I had to admit; the tea had tasted good, which meant I felt miffed when she hadn't allowed me to finish mine. Of course, those feelings were soon forgotten, her lips capturing mine the instant she'd closed the door behind us, hands quick to relieve my skin of any and all clothing. I'd tried my best to keep up with her, my own butterfingered digits not as adapt—I wasn't too proud of admitting my patience had ran thin to the point of ruining what had been a lovely outfit on her part. She had neither seemed to mind nor care, she herself had been responsible for the partial destruction of the room's arrangements, forcibly pushing me against both walls and cabinets. I'd hoisted her up, legs eagerly locking around my hips, and—after avoiding stepping on what I guessed to be several broken frames—dropped her onto the bed.

She'd been rough, aggressive, and fiercely desperate; teeth biting down in greedy hunger, nails writing marks of her own in trails of red. I'd met her fervour, until our dampened skin hummed with the raw burn of friction. We'd remained curled up as we waited for our racing hearts to calm, my own limbs left heavy and buzzing. She'd wrapped herself up in my arms, peppering my skin in languid kisses, breath fanning over me and sending shivers down my back. My head hadn't been able to catch up yet, mind numbed and afloat as I still felt the aftermath of our mutual high.

Over an hour might have passed before she attempted to move again. She'd pressed a kiss to my temple before pushing herself off the bed, feet carefully dancing around any fallen objects. I recognised the sounds of creaking faucets and running water, and it wasn't long until she returned to coax me into following her. I obeyed, albeit a bit more clumsily than I liked, vision blurred by the creeping pull of sleep. I had no idea how she'd managed to do it so fast—or I just hadn't been as awake as I'd thought—but the room was littered with flickering candles, their warm glow bouncing off shiny tiles. It was quite romantic, even if I was loathe to admit such things, the steaming water from the bathtub swirling to a soft mist that dampened the air.

"I checked the water, it should be fine," Emily spoke. "Go ahead."

I obeyed, limbs sinking beneath the glittering water. Its warmth cocooned me in comfort, soaking into my muscles. She followed, studying me as she moved. She was halfway when she waded towards me, eyes focused on mine, their outline accentuated by candlelight, heavy lashes catching the glow. I watched her as I held my breath, tiny waves lapping against my chest. There was something oddly welcoming about being in the water, its liquid slosh like an ancient lullaby to my ears. She had worked her way between my legs, slowly turning herself around until her back rested against my chest, soft hair running down my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her as I rested my cheek to her temple, feeling my heart dance against her back.

"I must have been a good fiancé to earn all this," I mumbled against her skin, feeling every breath she took, every sound she made, my eyes closing on their own accord.

"Mhm," she hummed, her fingers wrapping around my arms, pushing them tighter around her. "Don't spoil it, though."

"Have I ever spoiled anything?" I breathed in the smell of her, feeling my pulse slow and my body grow heavy. There was a ringing in my ears, like a distant melody, compelling me to relax.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" she snorted.

I frowned, right hand tracing circles across her shoulder. "Now who's spoiling it?"

"You did rip up my clothes," she contended sourly.

It was my turn to snort, chest bumping against her back. "They were in my way."

She released a throaty laugh in response, the water rippling around us, its steam sticking to our skin and covering us in a sheen of warmth.

"This is…" I started, feeling my breath hitch, brow puckering as I rolled the word around in my mouth before releasing it. "Nice."

She sighed against me, allowing herself to sink deeper,."I think I could stay like this forever."

I raised my brows at the words. "Forever is a long time."

"Do you have more godly insights to bless me with?"

I chuckled against her temple. "I'm just saying, I've seen what happens to the skin after only a few days."

She turned around to look at me, eyes narrowed and lips pulled into an offended frown. "That's disgusting."

I felt my lips twist into a lopsided smile as I raised my brows again, arms loosening their hold, hands wrapping around her before I turned her to face me fully. The movements were followed by the splashing of water, some of it sent falling to the floor, soaking into the wooden panels. Her stomach was soon pressed against my own, her hands spread across my chest to keep from sliding down. I pulled her higher, until her lips hovered inches from mine, eyes mesmerised by her as I paused to watch, to breathe, to feel… She gasped when I pulled us under, sending even more water over the tub's edge. I kissed her, the warmth of her washed away by our private ocean, joined together in a world free from humanity. I hadn't told her so, but I did agree; I would wish for nothing more than this to last forever.

My lungs had no more need for air as I breathed her, the ages flowing around us and joining together in an attempt to suspend this moment from ending. The water caressed the both of us, its swirling waves stroking through our hair, tickling our skin. Her hands had risen to wrap around my shoulders, thumbs trailing along the sides of my neck. It took me a while to notice the brightness that had permeated through my lids, provoking me to open them. My gaze met hers as our lips parted, confusion flickering within her widened eyes. The candlelight glimmered throughout our airless sanctuary, its light illuminating the rolling waters. That wasn't the odd part, however, as my eyes registered the bright glow of white that came from below.

I turned my head to follow it, gaze moving along her skin as I lifted my arm to reveal the source. There, along the side of her ribcage, glowed three bright symbols: 'ΣM¹'. My eyes widened at the sight, blinking several times to see if they were really there—until she pulled me back up, the waters sloshing around us. I glanced down at our submerged bodies, noticing a similar glow shining from my skin, my ribcage marked 'Шт²'.

"What is this?" Emily asked, a panicked tremor in her voice. "What's happening?"

I continued to stare down at the symbols, a shiver running down my back. "These are whale markers."

"I didn't want to breathe," Emily continued, shaking her head. "Why didn't I need to breathe?"

"I- I don't know." I blinked, looking up at her, hands rising to cup her cheeks, turning her face around to see if anything else was different. "I- are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"No- I just…" She paused, frowning down at my chest, biting her lip. "I feel fine."

I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek as I tried to think, ravaging my mind for a possible explanation.

"Is this it?"

I looked over to her as she held up another piece of yellowed paper, my eyes scanning its written contents. "No," I shook my head, "I'm looking for anything containing the word 'киты'."

Emily let out a sigh, dropping the piece next to her, the ground we were sitting on littered by a dozen more. "This language is so hard to follow."

"In my time, every isle had their own speech, you're lucky there's only one left."

We hadn't noticed the knocking on our door until it was too late, a shocked Callista entering what had to appear as a scene of utter destruction. "What happened here?" she questioned, gaze shooting across our floor.

My own gaze shot over to Emily, her face visibly flushing as her eyes widened. "Do you really think you want that question answered?" I asked, returning my attention to Callista, raising a brow.

"Why does it smell like fire in here?" She ignored my comment, sidestepping the mess while she headed for the source of the scent, a gasp escaping her as her eyes took in the state of the bathroom. "Have you been practicing black magic in here?" she hissed, turning back to us, a scowl on her face.

I watched Emily's look of shock turn to one of horror as her tutor found what remained of her romantic gesture. "No," I started, noticing how Emily's eyes shot to my face at my amused tone. "We didn't know how to open the windows, so we had to light the candles to mask the obstinate smell of se-"

"Matvey!" I was thrown to the floor by a distressed Emily, her hands shooting up to cover my mouth and silence me. I couldn't stop the laughter, its sound muffled by her palm. She frowned down at me, cheeks flushed a bright red.

"You know what, never mind I asked, I came here for something else entirely." Callista sighed, fingers rubbing her temples as she frowned off into the distance, shaking her head before heading towards a small table at the other end of the room, pointedly ignoring the ripped pieces of Emily's clothing and picking out a chair for herself instead. "I asked around town," she started, sitting down, placing her hands in her lap. "Did you know the Abbey hasn't settled over here?"

"Huh?" Emily sat up, hand sliding off my face. "That's convenient."

I took the opportunity to explain, propping myself up. "They had no influence here, I never appeared to the people of Samara so they felt they had nothing to fear."

Callista nodded thoughtfully, eyes drawn to the flurry of papers that lay scattered around us. "So, did you find anything in those?"

"Not yet."

It was Emily's turn to speak, hands nervously wringing the edge of her blouse."We did find something else..." She paused, and Callista sent her an inquiring look. Emily moved to lift her blouse, revealing the side of her ribs... but there was nothing there. "It's gone." She looked to me in surprise, eyes darting to my side as if urging me to check as well. I hesitated before I hooked my fingers beneath the fabric of my shirt, lifting it to expose my side, pale skin equally unmarred. "How?" asked Emily, a frown creasing her skin.

"What was I supposed to see?" Callista tipped her head, gaze darting between the two of us.

"Maybe it only shows in the water?" Emily suggested.

"There were markings," I replied, hands rubbing my face wearily. Emily stood without saying anything, bare feet patting over to the bathroom. "What are you-" I watched her disappear around the corner, followed by the sound of running water.

"Emily?" Callista called after her, shifting in her chair, seeming as uncertain as I.

Emily didn't reply, and I moved to lift myself off the ground, curiously trailing after her. I heard Callista follow, but paid no mind to her as I watched Emily remove her blouse and pants, waiting for the tub to fill again.

"Lady Emily, you should not expose yourself in such an indecent manner!" Callista gasped as she watched the girl strip.

Emily waved her off as she observed the water, turning the faucet once there was enough to submerge herself. I watched her step in, ripples illuminated by the dying candles. She sat herself down, staring at her side, waiting for her skin to change. It didn't, causing her frown to deepen before she looked up at me. "Get in," she ordered.

"Emily-"

"Get in, Matvey," she insisted.

I narrowed my eyes, glancing at Callista before submitting, removing my own shirt and pants before joining her. The water hadn't been heated, its cold soaking into my skin as I sat down across from her, a chagrined look on my face. She ignored me as she continued to stare at her skin, yet it remained unchanged.

"Kiss me," she ordered then, face composed in a mask of dead-seriousness.

"No way," I refused, sending her an annoyed scowl.

"Lady Emily-"

"Kiss me," she ordered again, mirroring my angry expression as she stared me down.

I felt my face heat as I glanced towards an irate looking Callista, a feeling of discomfort twisting my stomach—but I complied, slowly moving closer, the water splashing around in response. My hands slid along the sides of the tub as I neared her, her features still composed while she waited for me. I screwed my eyes shut before bringing my face to hers, pecking her lips as if the contact might scald me. I opened my eyes again to see her stare down at her side, skin still free from any markings.

"Mean it," she returned her gaze to me, a determined look in her eyes.

"Lady Emily, that is quite enough," Callista protested, about to turn on her heel when I closed my eyes again, taking a deep breath as I attempted to forget about the woman watching us.

I leaned forward, gently pressing my lips to hers, feeling the water ripple as she shivered, the beats of our hearts thrumming through the waters.

"What is that?" Callista shrieked in horror, causing my eyes to shoot back open. I moved away from Emily, noticing the glowing shapes on her side, glancing down to see I was affected as well.

Emily pushed me back, creating more space. "Now watch this," she spoke, jaw squared in determination as she allowed herself to sink deeper, until her face was submerged. I watched in awe as she remained there, focused and still.

"What is she doing?" Callista appeared a little more curious this time, feet carrying her closer as she watched Emily.

"Holding her breath," I mumbled, face burning as I wrapped my arms around my legs, resting my chin against my knees. Several minutes of uncomfortable silence passed, and I couldn't help but be worried for Emily; remaining perfectly still, a stray bubble of air escaping her lips every now and then. Callista kept on watching, a frown on her brow, lips parted in silent wonder. When even more time passed, I found myself unable to fight off the wave of anxiety, leaning forward, placing my hand above her heart. She opened her eyes at my touch, and I was relieved by the feeling of her pulse beneath my palm. Her lips pulled into an amused smile, and I found myself shaking my head.

"How is she doing this?"

I shrugged, still closely monitoring her heartbeat, reassured by its continuously calm pace. "I'm not a natural philosopher, but I think it has to do with her blood."

"Why would you think that?" Callista turned her gaze towards me, all traces of her previous indignation gone.

I tried my best to shake off my discomfort, eyes pointedly staring at Emily. "I know whales need oxygen, like us, and I also know their blood allows them to go without breathing for extended periods of time, spanning up to over an hour."

"She's not a whale, though." Callista frowned.

"Those markings, people mark whales in a similar manner before harvesting their meat and oil—I think there might be more behind them."

"Why don't you know?"

"I'm not omniscient," I retorted, glaring up at her. "I only remember the things I hear."

Callista just hummed in response, averting her gaze, turning back to Emily.

I continued speaking, eyes darting down to Emily as well. "We were searching the documents I found to see if they mentioned whales anywhere, but so far we found nothing. Which is strange, since whales are an important part of the Void. It's almost as if people didn't even know they existed."

Callista inhaled sharply, as if she was about to say something but changed her mind, pausing before speaking up again. "Had you ever heard of whales when you- you know, I assume you were a kid at some point."

I couldn't control myself enough to not make a snide remark, bitterness sharpening my tongue. "That's a sure change from just plain assuming I'm not human."

She didn't reply right away, and when I looked at her I noticed she was frowning down at the floor. "Gods don't scar," she almost whispered the words, lips barely moving as she spoke them.

I narrowed my eyes. "No, I had never heard of whales—but I also wouldn't be the right person to ask since I didn't enjoy an education."

"I see." She nodded, turning back to Emily, who still remained underwater.

Several more minutes passed before she decided to come back up, my hand falling off her chest as she straightened herself, water dripping down her face, sticking to her hair and lashes. She took a deep breath, an excited smile on her lips, gaze darting between me and Callista.

"That was… amazing." She grinned, chest back to rising and falling as she continued to suck in the oxygen, the markings on her side fading. I frowned, unsure how to feel, worry gnawing at the back of my mind. We didn't know what any of this meant, or how it had been possible—more importantly, why had it affected her as well as me?

"How did you do it?" asked Callista, my worried frown mirrored on her face.

Emily shrugged, turning to me, grin still lingering. "I think it's thanks to Matvey—when he kissed me, there was this- this…" She appeared to be searching for the words, eyes dancing. "Electricity that rippled through me, and I felt as if I would never need to breathe again." She blinked, brow pulling together as she recalled it all. "It's unlike anything I've ever felt before—the sensations entirely different from when I was marked, as if it was the complete opposite."

I considered her words, an idea striking me. "The whales—they've been singing to me ever since I arrived at the tower, calling my name… They followed us across the Wrenhaven." I recalled how the waters had been filled by hundreds of them. "When I followed you, after you'd left for the tower on your own, they carried me—but they had intended to take me somewhere else…" My frown deepened as I searched my mind for clues. "I remember falling into the water, feeling drawn to this light—it was as if it called for me, like the whales had." I looked up to meet Emily's gaze. "What if that's where they had wanted to take me? What if they helped us get here because that same light is right here, somewhere beneath the water's surface?"

"You think the whales want you to swim there?" Emily tipped her head, a pensive frown on her face.

I recalled it then, my dreams; the waves that wrote to me in foam and salt, seas of warm amber that begged for me—pools of gold like her eyes. I hadn't been equipped for either yet, unable to face the truth—not yet ready to take the dive. But all that didn't matter now, I had finally given in to what my soul had been telling me to do all this time. I shook my head, watching as the candlelight illuminated her amber gaze. "They want us to swim there."