"Is this about right?" Emily asked as she held up her piece of paper.
I squinted at the scribblings she had produced, using my finger to mark the sentence I'd been reading, my father's diary spread out in front of me. "That actually looks quite decent." I smiled up at her, impressed by her fast improvement.
She beamed back at me, a self-satisfied look in her eyes, before turning to Callista with a smirk. "You hear that, Nora?"
Callista simply raised a brow, regarding Emily with a look that spoke volumes of her scepticism.
"Would any of you like something else to drink?" the waitress asked, and I carefully obscured the small booklet at her approach.
"No, thank you," Emily answered, to which the waitress nodded, collecting our glasses before turning away again.
I hadn't missed Callista's curious stares towards the item I'd hidden, and she didn't hesitate to ask. "So how come this," she used her gaze to indicate the small booklet, "looks different from all the other documents?"
I sat back in my chair, following the waitress as she walked up to another table nearby. "That's because it is."
"And why is that?" she persisted, narrowing her eyes at my curtness.
I crossed my arms before I turned towards her, taking in her expression. "It's not a document, it's a diary."
She frowned, eyes darting down to the yellowed pages. "And how is a diary going to help, exactly?"
"It mentions the Great Leviathan, which I think might be important."
"It's a common myth, I don't see how that might be of any significance?" She tipped her head before continuing in a careful whisper. "If I recall correctly they call you the Great Leviathan."
"It's an old title, one that precedes me." I paused, licking my lips. "First, the writer mentions seeing it, or him, whatever it is... then later declares it dead."
"What do you think that implies?" Callista rubbed her temple as she stared at the small diary, eyes tracing words she couldn't read.
"It means that somewhere between the dates in this diary, the thing that was originally named 'the Great Leviathan' passed away from some unknown cause."
"So how come you don't know exactly what happened to the Great Leviathan?" Emily joined the conversation.
"I wasn't there to see it." I frowned at her loss of focus. "Keep practicing," I said with a nod towards her writings.
"Neither one of you are attempting anything unless you'd prefer freezing to death."
I watched Emily's face fall as she continued to stare ahead, eyes trailing every wave that rolled ashore. Callista was right, but I felt equally tempted. It was as if the dancing waters were purposefully luring me in, their dark surface obscuring the secret world I knew waited beneath, seducing me with their mysteries. I was well aware Corvo could arrive any day now, the smart thing to do would be to wait and see if he could tell us more; if we were lucky his trip to Serkonos would offer us some much needed information. We'd paid a visit to the library this morning, stacking up on books about the history of marine life and common diving practices—most importantly, how to not die in a freezing ocean. Ironically, I was growing increasingly frustrated by the Abbey's absence in Samara; they usually hoarded tons of information about the occult—the kind of information we now desperately needed.
"Come on," said Emily as she wrapped her hand around mine, intertwining our fingers. "There's this shop I found yesterday I want to visit."
I raised my brows, allowing her to pull me along as I glanced back at Callista, checking to see if she followed. The reserved woman's demeanour had subtly changed following what had happened; she hadn't seemed as bothered by our interactions. The woman in question swiftly re-adjusted the bag she'd slung over her shoulder, cheeks flushed from carrying the heavy thing around. I'd already offered to take it for her, but she had turned me down without hesitation.
Emily led us to what turned out to be a goldsmith, asking the both of us to wait outside. From the corner of my eye, I could see Callista staring at the snow below her feet, absentmindedly trailing her toes through the white powder, collecting some of it on top of her boot. The air was cold, as it had been from the moment we'd arrived, but I realised its sting didn't bother me. The way it made every touch against my skin chafe and burn only further cemented my grasp on what was my current reality—the strange uprooting of all I had come to know.
"I've been thinking," Callista spoke from beside me, words slipping off her faltering tongue. "What is to become of the throne? Who will rule in Lady Emily's stead?"
I turned to look at her, gaze searching her guarded features. "Forthcoming of you to assume a replacement is her only choice," I replied, tilting my head as I narrowed my eyes, lips curling around the syllables. "Perhaps, if necessary, your friend Corvo might lay a claim?" I noticed her subtle cringe at my words, filling me with a sour sense of satisfaction, at least. "Or, perhaps, with the dismantlement of the Abbey, the people might welcome a redeemed ruler and find her unjustly dethroned?"
"I'm sorry to say—and you'll have to excuse my lack of tact—but certainly not with you at her side."
I shrugged, turning to look away, eyes tracing the structural silhouettes against the inky skies. "That's a possibility."
An uncomfortable silence thickened the breath in my lungs, choked up my throat, Callista's expectant gaze further chilling the air around us. "Is that really all you have to say?"
"I don't feel it's my place to make any decisions regarding the matter."
"Just like it wasn't your place to protect my parents from being murdered in your name?" I didn't miss the bitter notes that seeped through her tone, perfect mask momentarily fractured, until she took a calming breath, covering up the damage before continuing in a more controlled voice. "The people won't welcome you; they've seen your face, they know who you are—who you've been."
Emily stepped out the shop, a satisfied smile curving her lips as she approached us. I sent Callista a brief and final glance, knowing my words would reach only her. "I suggest we enjoy what time we have, as it's limited either way." I paused, gaze drawn to my feet, a pointless question soon passing my lips. "Do you blame me?" I already knew the answer.
Callista remained silent, the crunch of snow filling the air between us. Emily happily wrapped her arm around mine, pulling me with her, ready to go. It was Callista who interrupted before I could take my first step. "I used to."
Callista's questions had settled somewhere beneath my skin, the sinew made tender as a result of their harsh truth. My throat was sandpaper and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. Emily had been quick to notice the tension, but she'd been kind enough not to ask. We'd returned to the Inn, determined to further pick apart whatever information we could gather—still, I couldn't help but feel restless, the passage of time grating against my thoughts. It felt pointless, all of it, my own words on constant repeat, drowning out any and all possible cognition. I found myself unable to keep from eyeing Emily, her lips twisted and brow puckered, unaware and fully engrossed in whatever book she was reading. I knew Callista noticed, I knew her eyes saw everything. Still, she didn't speak up when I stood, or when I reached for Emily's hand. The former Empress of the Isles shot me a look of surprise as I pulled at the limb, guiding her to follow me, her gaze flitting between me and a silent Callista.
I'd had enough of weathered pages and ancient words.
"Wait, where are we going?" she whispered as I took her into the hallway, leaving behind a puzzled Callista. Emily's gaze searched mine, eyes filled with questions, dancing and breaking like waves, lips parting to speak—I silenced her before she could, arms lifting her up as I captured her mouth with my own, body trapping her against the nearest wall. Her legs wrapped around my hips, fingers gripping my shirt for balance as my hands traveled down, further pulling her into me. I felt her shudder, back arching as she met my every move. We broke apart, if only to breathe, our eyes fluttering open to meet.
"What was that for?" She panted against my lips, gaze lazily traveling my face.
I rested my forehead against hers, watching the fire within those amber depths, lifting a hand to caress her cheek, thumb drawing tender strokes along the softness of her skin. "Because I love you," the words rumbled from deep within my chest, "and I've grown weary of worrying for a world that doesn't."
Her gaze shot across my own, searching my soul as she processed the words. "So what do you propose?" she whispered in return, fingers tightening their clutch, further pulling at the fabric of my shirt.
My proposal—which I hadn't given any thought—had been enough to ignite Emily's eyes with enough stars to fill the Tyvian sky, hands excitedly dragging me down the stairs and through the front door. It was late in the afternoon, white-clad streets filled with the daily throng of people returning from their jobs. Our hands remained interlocked, my thumb softly stroking her skin as we walked. No one batted an eye, no one thought to question yet another couple passing by. I was painfully aware these moments of anonymity wouldn't last, and it made me hold on to her even tighter. I had a sneaking suspicion Emily herself had been yearning to get out and enjoy what the city had to offer; she seemed to know exactly what she wanted and where. I allowed her to lead me without interruption or complaint, sticking true to my own suggestion as I acquiesced every experience to wash over me.
The first place she took me was an art and supplies shop at the edge of town, its windows decorated by lush, botanical patterns. Detailed illustrations of vines and leaves curled their way around its edges, framing the glass in a shroud of fresh green. Once inside, we were greeted by the unique smells of ink, paint and parchment, the air stuffy with gathering dust. Its owner was old, like Nadia—a man who I estimated to be around his late sixties. He seemed all too eager assisting us in finding whatever we needed, and I didn't say anything when Emily left him a generous tip before leaving, calloused hands gratefully accepting the valuable coin. After that she insisted we visit the docks, the numerous ships that laid moored at Samara's harbour easily spotted; their pannage towering above the sea of snow-covered roofs. We passed the goldsmith on our way there, Emily's eyes taking on a glint of excitement before picking up her pace, pulling me along.
We found ourselves drawn to a small cafe, its large windows looking out over obsidian seas. The smells of foam and salt clung to everything, the air itself soaked in the surrounding brine. I welcomed the rough sting of sea breeze, the distant crash of waves a soothing and somewhat cathartic sound. Inside, a large hearth warmed the small space. We picked a table next to one of the large windows, its accompanying chairs covered in patterned cushions. I allowed her to pick and choose my order, the sounds of a roaring sea and a hint of outside cold penetrating through thin panes of glass.
She'd unpacked the art supplies, insisting I draw whatever I desired. She herself directed her focus on the view, elegant fingers wrapping around a piece of charcoal—I didn't tell her all I desired sat right across from me. Instead, I privately marvelled at the way her features shifted beneath my gaze, eyebrows furrowing and lips twisting in concentration. I drew her again, the happy, unworried version of her which I preferred above all others. I discovered there was a new sense of adoration in the angle of her jaw, the thick brush of her lashes, the pointed tip of her nose; the unique sight of her caused my heart to flutter and my body to warm. Within me, I could discern the echoes of old poets as they had once described these sensations, their words but abstract sentiments to a younger me. I had come to realise I had been sleeping, my once-eternal consciousness in a perpetual state of isolation.
She carefully yet elegantly sipped the tea she'd ordered for the both of us, a unique blend from the nearby isle of Morley. I had curiously tasted the beverage, allowing the warm liquid to slip across my tongue, its sweet aftertaste lingering on my lips. It had made me long for summers I had never experienced. The fire painted her in a fraudulently sunny hue, it's flickering gleam only a poor imitation of daylight. The sight provoked a long forgotten desire within me, a yearning for time spent soaking up the final rays of sunshine, their glow leaving skin to simmer and beaches to sparkle as the sand bid farewell to another day, illuminated like scattered gemstones—I could recall every stretch of earth that broke apart the seas with vivid detail, yet I had no idea what the sand that created beaches would feel like between my toes, or what the forests that spanned from Gristol to Morley smelled like after a drenching rain.
The realisation hung over me for the remainder of the evening; through shared meals and peels of laughter, through coy looks and even the comfortable silence as we walked home. I was well aware a great number of people throughout history shared my inexperience with the world; only few ever travelled, and of those few you were either a rich noble venturing out to enjoy whatever pleasure the isles had to offer, or a hard-working sailor, roughened by harsh days spent on an unforgiving ocean. Was it selfish of me, then? Was I wrong for desiring what good things I knew this world possessed?
Was it strange of me to want to show her more?
"Wake up," I whispered against Emily's skin, pressing lazy kisses along her cheekbone, drawing a languid sigh from her lips.
"Is it morning already?" she asked, voice hoarse from sleep.
"Better yet." I smiled into her hair as I nuzzled closer to her warmth. "It's still night."
"Wha-" She turned around, drooping eyes squinting up at me. "Why did you wake me—what time is it?"
I traced the tip of my nose along her earlobe, fighting the temptation to bite it. "Four," I mumbled.
"Four?" She shot up, blankets dropping down, all hints of sleep erased from her being. "Matvey! What are you doing waking me up at four in the morning?" she complained, the sharp contours of her frown illuminated by a sole lantern. My eyes swept across her bared form, content with the view. She appeared to notice as she crossed her arms, casting me a berating look.
"We're sneaking out," I spoke, amused by her temper.
"Sneaking ou- why?" She blinked. "We can walk out the front door, no questions asked."
I tilted my head at her, feeling a smirk tug at my lips. "Where's the fun in that?"
Her frown deepened in confusion. "Fun?"
"We're sneaking out the window, of course."
"Why?"
"Because you look profoundly attractive doing it."
Her mouth opened and closed several times. "Have you been watching me sneak out the tower?" She narrowed her eyes.
A tooth-baring grin crept up on me, causing her stare to narrow even further. "With exceptional interest, Your Imperial Majesty."
An answering grin broke through her sullen visage, teeth worrying her lower lip and gaze twinkling with amusement. "Fine." She raised a brow. "See if you can keep up with me, you human fossil."
"Still think this is 'fun'?" Emily questioned from behind as I continued to stare at the ground, hands gripping the window frame and eyes scanning our surroundings.
"I know you're not one to be flattered by traditional customs, but; ladies first," I said, spotting the smouldering remains of the festival's bonfire several blocks away. She joined me, gaze sweeping across the ledge, assessing the drop. I watched the way her stance changed, an air of excitement rolling off of her in waves. Her hands grasped the wooden frame, fingers curling around its edges. She lifted herself into a graceful crouch, both feet raised onto the narrow space without much of a sound. It was impressive, really, and I silently admired the fluidity of her every movement.
"You can still use the front door if you'd prefer," she offered, sincerity colouring her tone.
I met her gaze, recognising the hints of worry that clung to its edges. "And miss the precious look on your face as I risk my life?" I quipped airily. "I think not."
She shook her head, rolling her eyes as she mumbled through her smile. "Suit yourself." Leaning down to kiss my cheek, she turned my insides to a warm, liquified mush. Turning away, she darted down with controlled ease, coat billowing with every movement, the wind seemingly carrying her on its arms. It was only a matter of seconds before her feet touched solid ground, a sly smile on her face as her eyes flitted back up to meet mine in challenge.
I checked the surrounding streets a final time, taking a deep breath to ease the adrenaline that surged through me. The rows of lanterns had died already, casting the area in shadows, the waning moon serving as our only source of light. Curiosity had gotten the best of me again, urging me into doing what I knew to be possibly reckless—but a loud and rather demanding voice inside of me told me now was the best, and probably safest, time to start testing.
No more gambles; I had something far too precious to protect.
The very sentiment reminded me of Corvo, his love and devotion evident in every death defying feat he'd delivered following his imprisonment. There was a small part of me that wished to be more like him; the righteous, honourable man who would not succumb to darkness—not even when all was taken from him. I looked down, lifting myself onto the small threshold, the surrounding shadows swallowing every sound, every hint of life. I knew I was no Corvo, I far lacked his bravery, his unbreakable morality, his responsibility when it came to doing what duty commanded of him. I allowed my legs to dangle, the cold air penetrating the fabric of my pants. But—I figured as I took another deep breath, the frost-filled atmosphere scalding my throat—the very least I could do was try.
I dipped my toes in air, body plunging down an invisible tide. There was a moment of weightlessness, reminiscent of years spent without a physical presence, before the wind broke me apart, flashing like sparks of lightning, fragmenting my every fiber until even my thoughts consisted of nothing but breeze-carried whispers. I floated in peripheral orbit, skirting along the bounds of a physical world mirrored by the Void—the all-consuming darkness I'd grown familiar with nipping at my clothes, my limbs, my skin. All too soon I found myself crouching in a blanket of snow, its cold eating away at the warmth in my palms and fingertips as I tried to steady myself.
"You cheat!" I heard Emily hiss from somewhere beside me, drawing my gaze towards her. She stood with her hands on her hips, an annoyed frown on her face. "You can't just use your powers like that, what if someone saw you?" she continued in a hurried whisper.
"I suppose that would make it particularly hard for us to go out for breakfast again." I raised myself from my crouching position, waves of static still coursing through my body, frazzling my mind. "In case it might be of any relief to you; at this time of night the most common pedestrians to roam the streets are usually too drunk to properly distinguish their home from a ditch."
Emily crossed her arms with a huff, shaking her head at me. "You didn't tell me you were going to cheat, though."
"It's more fun that way, isn't it?" I smiled, patting the snow from my pants before taking her hand in mine. "Come on."
She paused, eyeing me before speaking. "Where are we going?"
"Sometimes the most rewarding queries are those purposefully left to smoulder and fuel the inquisitive mind," I spoke as I shook my head at her, earning myself a scoff.
"You could have just said it's a surprise, but sure, I'll humour you," she deadpanned, raising a single brow at me.
I couldn't keep the grin off my face as I took her hand, impatiently tugging the limb to get her to move. I knew the museum hadn't been far from here, and if I could use its location as a vantage point I'd at least know which way to head. It had been a long time since I'd last visited the outskirts of Samara's busy streets, or seen the dark pine that surrounded the city like an endless wall. Emily kept her silence as we darted through abandoned streets, the occasional sliver of moonlight illuminating the icy landscape like a sea of fallen stars. The snow crunched beneath our feet, its satisfying sounds bouncing off of walls and windows as we passed house after house. I didn't turn to look at her as I kept my pace, too self-conscious of the persistent smile that caused my cheeks to ache.
I was excited. My body thrummed with the remnants of my adrenaline inducing act, traces of the Void still tickling my skin, fizzling through my veins. There wasn't an inkling of the sickening fatigue that had clawed at me after the first few times I had used my abilities, no sting of painfully charred skin—instead, I felt almost as I had when running across the whales; invincible, something for which I had Sokolov to thank. I was aware there would be a limit, I had seen it with all my marked. If I could get familiar with my own strengths and weaknesses, I might just be of use when push came to shove. I was no assassin, Royal Protector or prodigy in the martial arts—but I did know my way around magic. I slowed as we reached the edge of town, the all-consuming darkness of the woods right in front of us. I felt Emily's hand stiffen within mine, feet coming to a halt next to me. I glanced her way, taking in her features as she stared at the mass of trees ahead.
"Don't tell me you're planning on going in there?" She sent me a look of disbelief, brows raised almost to her hairline.
I threw a glance over my shoulder, checking to see if anyone walked the street behind us. As expected, there wasn't a soul in sight. The dark, structural silhouettes loomed over us like the jagged hills and cliffs flanking the tower, their lonely sight reminiscent of the discarded whales that littered slaughterhouse row. "Whatever happened to that unquenchable thirst for adventure of yours?" I turned back towards the treeline, eyes roaming the dark gaps that intermittently divided the thick brush.
"Drowning in duties each with possible impact on an empire can do that to a person," she grumbled, and I knew she was being superfluous.
I turned to her, carefully taking her other hand in mine as well, both my thumbs stroking her skin as I slowly started walking backwards, leading her towards the thicket. "None of that matters here," I rumbled, watching the moonlight skirt along her features, highlighting her beauty. She tilted her head, gaze darting across my face, searching my eyes, a newfound curiosity starting to bloom in hers. I observed as the darkness swallowed me, my arms, our hands—and lastly her. I could still see the city through crowded rows of age-old trees, the final remnants of light barely slipping between the pine. I released one of her hands, fingers tightening around the other, feet following a path made up of archaic recollections. Emily followed me without question, the shadows now thick enough to render us blind. The darkness allowed for our other senses to heighten, every little sound more intense, every passing scent more pronounced.
I didn't slow my pace, eyes soon catching the smallest hint of light ahead, a rare clearing breaking apart the trees. A lot had changed in 4000 years, but if memory served me right this should be the spot. Slowly but surely, the trees made way for rockier terrain, large stones and pebbles sticking out from beneath the snow. As the forest thinned, moonlight managed to spill from between the treetops, small flecks illuminating the ground beneath our feet. Emily let out a soft gasp, eyes roaming the silver clad clearing once we emerged. The landscape had shifted after several centuries, large boulders and stone ridges had tumbled like waves, swallowing whatever once rested beneath.
I frowned, releasing Emily's hand, gaze sweeping across newborn hills and small cliffs. "Just a moment," I threw her way, eyes never leaving the sight ahead.
"What are you goin-"
She didn't get to finish as I crouched down, pressing my palms against the snow, the familiar rush of electricity spilling from my limbs, white light scattering across slopes of ice. Weathered rocks started shifting back into place with a loud, deafening rumble. More and more, I began to recognise certain jagged edges and familiar peaks. Steam seeped through newly formed cracks, curling through the air in large plumes, creating a subtle layer of mist around us. At the center of it all, a quickly growing pool of hot water spilled from between the rocks, thick clouds of vapour rising from its surface. I carefully controlled my every breath, feeling the Void pull at the air around me, sizzling through my veins and muscles like molten fire. I was starting to reach my limit, skin overheating, tendons straining to hold me together. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to pull through as I watched the water rise, creating a sizeable lagoon.
"How do you do that?" Emily asked as I finally raised myself from the ground, the steaming pond a rare milky-blue. There was an astonished smile on her face as she stepped closer, eyes sparkling with earnest wonder. I turned towards her, hands reaching for the buttons of her coat, fingers working on undoing them as she stared up at me.
"Do you remember, in the Void, how streams fell in reverse?" I asked, pulling the coat down her arms. "What if time were a current, its flow always headed in the same direction?" My eyes followed each piece of fabric as it left her skin, drinking in the sight of her bronzed neck and soft shoulders. "Now imagine controlling that flow, almost like trailing your fingers through water, its waves following your every motion." I allowed my fingers to dance down the curves of her bared torso, watching as the cold wrapped her in goose-bumps, a slight shiver running through her at my touch. "What happens then, Emily?" I met her gaze through half-lidded eyes, raising my brows in question.
She tipped her head, small hands traveling up my chest, mirroring my actions, delicate fingers undoing every single button. "It flows in whatever direction you guide it," she breathed, pulling down my coat, discarding it to the ground next to hers before starting on my shirt. She licked her lips, gaze darting to my chest, the cold nipping at my bared skin as she peeled away my clothing. "Could you join it? Swim down the years?"
I shook my head, taking a step closer. "It only interferes with the state of a single thing." I wrapped my hand around one of her arms, placing her palm against my chest where she could see it. "The course of a single stream never affects the ocean." I trailed my fingers across her skin, the buzz of magic causing the tissue to wrinkle with age. She pulled away, as if burned by my touch, large eyes staring down at a now unmarred limb before meeting my gaze again. "It's not permanent," I sent her a small, knowing smile, recognising the flicker of thought in her eyes, knowing exactly what she had wanted to ask. She nodded, biting her lip, the tension that had gripped her soothed away by my words. I continued undressing her, bare feet soon stepping into the snow. I kicked off my own shoes, my toes feeling the familiar sting of ice between them.
We were both naked, the cold soaking into our skin, the night painting our bodies in hues of gray. I took her hands in mine again, leading her towards the water, watching as she marvelled at the steaming pool. Swirls of vapour curled around our legs, kissing our chilled skin with their warmth. I was the first to step down into the milky liquid, its heat pouring into me, loosening up every muscle, washing away every ache. Emily followed, and I watched as relief flooded her features at the pleasant temperature, a delighted smile lighting up her face. I led her deeper, the both of us wading through layers of mist. There was something ethereal about her, graceful figure outlined in silver as she continued to follow me. Her eyes never left mine, a thousand questions dancing in their depths, pausing on her lips. I stopped moving when her shoulders disappeared beneath the surface, the water's gentle slosh hitting against my chest.
"What else can you do?" she asked then, an awed smile on her lips.
I lifted a hand to caress the side of her face, fingers traveling down her cheek, my eyes following their path. "I don't know," I admitted.
She leaned into my touch, her own hand wrapping around mine, pulling it flush against her skin, cupping her cheek. "Sometimes I miss your mark," she whispered, a forlorn look in her eyes.
A small smile lifted the corners of my mouth, and I pulled her into me, pressing our chests together. I watched as her eyes shot to my lips, begging me to close the distance, and I obeyed, feeling a million things sweep over me. My heart galloped within my chest, hands desperate to hold onto her. The sky became water, and the water became the sky. Soon I wasn't even sure where I ended and she began. All I was sure of, as we traded snow-covered mountains for the cocooning warmth of the lagoon, was that I'd show her every corner of the world if I were capable.
The music grew louder the closer we got, it's notes accompanied by melodic echoes of laughter. Emily's hand nearly crushed mine as she dragged me along, an excited grin on her face—it had been there from the moment I'd agreed to visit the festival with her again. She'd insisted I wear the traditional fashion, and I had to admit it didn't hurt to see her in the same figure-hugging dress, its golden thread catching the glow of every lantern we passed. I almost didn't notice the many stalls selling foods, drinks and souvenirs, eyes drawn only to her dress as it flowed with her every movement, stretching across her hips. There were people participating in different kinds of games, their cheers filling the air with a sense of excitement, their efforts rewarded by a variety of prizes. Much like before, no one paid attention to the both of us, our passing through met with greeting smiles and polite nods. Emily seemed to love the taste of normalcy, her beaming grin managing to charm most everyone we crossed, me included.
"Violet!" A voice rang out from somewhere, and it didn't take us long to find Artur waving at us. He pushed his way through the crowd, eagerly making his approach. "Hey!" He was slightly out of breath when he reached us, pale cheeks flush with colour. "I'm happy to see you visit the festival again—I mean, it's nice by the fire, right?" he rambled through his lopsided grin, gaze flitting between the two of us, hesitantly lingering on me. I couldn't stop the narrowing of my eyes or the tensing of my shoulders.
"Uh, yes, it is." Emily sent him a polite smile. "I figured my fiancé still owes me a dance, after all." She inched closer to me, wrapping an arm behind my back and resting a steadying hand against my chest, causing some of the tension to leave me.
"Ah, Matvey, I do hope you're feeling up to it?" Artur studied me awkwardly.
Emily gave me a reassuring squeeze, and I knew she wanted me to answer. "I'll be fine," I forged a smile for her sake.
"Well if the two of you'd like, me and my friends are having some drinks over there, you'd be welcome to join!" he continued, turning back to Emily.
The look she sent me mirrored my own uncertainty, but I'd proposed the idea, had I not? "Sure," I spoke, catching the surprise on Emily's face. "Why not."
Artur appeared overjoyed at my consent, leading us back towards his friends without a moment of silence. We followed, Emily's hands gripping my arm, our bodies pressed together as we weaved our way through the mass of people.
"Are you really okay with this?" she whispered, squeezing my bicep, frowning up at me.
I glanced her way, sending her a reassuring smile. "You could do with some more... lively company." I shrugged, enjoying the grin that curved her lips.
Artur's friends, a group of five, were all seated around one of the many tables that stood a notable distance away from the fire, its surface littered with both finished and unfinished drinks. The smell of strong liquor hovered all around them, as did the buzz of joyful laughter. They were all around Emily's age, pale-skinned but rosy-cheeked as they enjoyed Tyvia's famous wines and other inebriating drinks.
"Artur!" one of the men called, head covered in an unruly mop of red hair, one of his arms wrapped around a giggling woman. "Who're this you brought with'ya!"
Artur walked up to him, roughly slapping his shoulder as they laughed, gaze darting between his friends and us—or perhaps just Emily. "Violet, Matvey, meet Luka." He gestured at the red-haired man beside him, before pointing his gaze at the woman beneath said man's arm. "And, of course, his lovely girlfriend Sabina."
Sabina greeted us with a wave, the glass in her hand spilling some of its contents across her lap.
"Seated on the opposite side are Alena, Zima and Filip."
The three remaining occupants greeted us at their introduction, one of the girls turning her attention back to Artur. "So this is Violet?" Alena teased, raising her brows at her friend.
Artur flushed, one of his hands rubbing the back of his neck as he chuckled. "I might have told my friends about you guys already," he admitted, before his eyes widened. "Oh, sit, please!" He pointed down at the wooden benches that surrounded the table, motioning at the empty spots. He himself sat down next to Luka, and I decided I'd take the spot next to him, allowing Emily to sit next to Alena who sent her a playful smile. "You see," Artur continued from his place beside me, "what with the whale oil malfunctioning, not many foreigners are visiting Samara—in fact, it's almost exclusively Tyvians this year. Lucky for us, we use whale oil to keep the fire going, and what with the loss of power nobody seems to want the stuff anymore—the festival's yearly expenses have been reduced to nothing!"
"Where was it you guys were from?" Filip asked from the other side of the table, the girl next to him using her finger to draw invisible circles on his sleeve.
"Gristol," Emily replied, gaze locking with mine. "Matvey's father was Tyvian."
"Gristol, huh? I'd have you pegged for a Serkonan." Filip sat back, crossing his arms curiously.
"My father is." Emily nodded.
"Lucky you." Alena leaned closer, eyes tracing along Emily's features. "You have such a gorgeous complexion."
Emily sent her a thankful smile, about to reply when her attention was drawn back to Filip. "So where in Gristol?" he asked, leaning his elbows on the table, eyes darting between the both of us.
"Whitecliff," Emily answered smoothly, earning a nod.
"That must have been quite the journey!" the girl next to him, Zima exclaimed, gazing at Emily with large, brown eyes.
"Any'ne up for 'nother round?" Luka stood from his place, eyeing the group expectantly. When he was done taking his friends' orders he turned to Emily and I, raising his brows in question.
I glanced across the table, unsure what to do but loathe to admit it. Emily seemed to pick up on my indecisiveness, swiftly turning towards Luka. "No, thank you, we'll pass for now."
"Nonsense!" he declared, slapping a hand against my shoulder, much like Artur had done to him. "A true Tyvian n'ver passes up a drink! I'll get y'guys someth'n nice!" He left after that, allowing us no chance to protest. I sourly rubbed my shoulder, ignoring Artur's snickers.
"Since you're both from Whitecliff, I reckon you guys might have heard the news from Dunwall?" Alena asked, downing what remained of her drink in one gulp.
"What news?" I asked, meeting her gaze, the bonfire's heat replaced by the chill of dread.
"Well, it's just rumours—something I overheard from my co-workers..." She paused, tucking a strand of dark, wavy hair behind her ear. "Supposedly their Empress was dethroned—again."
"Again?" Filip snorted incredulously. "How hard can it be to keep the damn job?"
"That's not even the shocking part," she continued, looking around the table conspiringly. "She was going to be executed, and honestly this is where they lost me," she chuckled, adding the final part in a secretive whisper, "for having an affair with the Outsider-"
Filip burst out laughing, "I'm pretty sure she and everyone's mom has had an affair with 'the Outsider'," he spoke the title in an ominous whisper.
I heard Artur chuckle beside me, and I couldn't keep myself from turning to Filip. "You don't believe he exists?" The question could be considered rhetorical.
"You silly southerners and your superstitions." He waved off the sentiment. "The only thing I fear at night is Zima without her make-up." The comment earned him a slap to the arm.
"You said 'was'," Emily interjected, "what happened?"
Alena turned to her, gaze darting between the two of us. "They disappeared, black magic they call it."
"They probably sent her to an insane asylum instead." Filip shrugged. "Sounds like one crazy lady if you ask me."
"What was her name again?" Artur asked. "Emma, or something?"
"Emily," I corrected, watching the glint of steel as I twisted my ritual ring between my fingers.
"It's probably for the best; it's inappropriate for a woman to rule, if you ask me," Filip shrugged. "No offense, dear."
"No one did ask," I rebutted before Emily could stop me, eyes shooting up from my hands. "But it might be interesting to know history has proven women to be the better rulers."
There was a pause around the table, Filip's face draining of colour as the women started giggling at his expense. "He's got you there," Sabina snickered at her friend, more of her wine spilling across her lap as she gestured at him. Just then Luka made his return, carrying a wooden plank full of new drinks, the table erupting in cheers as he passed them around, the conversation soon forgotten.
"I don't think I've ever seen eyes like yours," Alena commented suddenly, chin resting in her palm, other hand eagerly stirring her drink.
I found myself staring down at the glass in front of me, watching the reflection of flames flicker and dance within its red liquid. "I've been told," I replied dryly, daring a small sip, surprised by the bitter taste.
"You'd make some special babies," she continued.
I choked on my drink, feeling some of it spill down my chin as the heat in my face increased to the point where it couldn't be blamed on the fire. I caught Emily's amused smirk as she watched me cough and splutter pathetically.
"We'd like a girl someday," she spoke, ignoring my burning face.
"I love kids," Artur agreed, slick bastard.
"You don't want children?" Alena asked me.
"I- I haven't thought about it." I straightened my back, feeling everyone's eyes on me. "I wouldn't be a good parent."
"Nonsense!" Emily waved a hand at me. "You'd be a great father to our kids."
"It's multiple now?" I hadn't been aware my voice could hit the high notes it just did.
"Of course, our daughter needs a brother or sister to conspire with, all great forces come in teams."
"When do you plan on getting married?" Sabina asked, tearing her attention away from Luka.
Emily bit her lip, sending me a secretive look. "I was hoping sometime soon."
"Soon?" I asked in surprise, unaware we were actually getting married in the first place.
"I was waiting for the ring to be adjusted," she admitted, and I only now noticed it was gone from her finger.
"You're serious?" I shook my head. "Your father will end me."
"Your father doesn't know?" Artur frowned in concern.
"He- it's complicated," Emily admitted. "He'll know soon enough."
"You can't stop love," Sabina remarked dreamily.
I rubbed my temple, taking another sip of the Tyvian drink, feeling it burn down my throat, willing my heart to stop pounding in my ears as I tried to forget about Corvo the assassin, and how he could stop just about anything.
"Well if you don't mind I think I'm going to steal your fiancé for a minute," Alena announced as I quickly downed the rest of my drink, feeling an unfamiliar heaviness pull at my limbs. She surprised me when it was my hand she fished off the table, pulling me to my feet with baffling ease. I had no room to protest as she pulled me along, leaving me no chance to process what was happening, my mind slower than I was used to. I looked back to Emily in confusion, but she appeared caught up in another conversation. "Your hand is so warm," Alena noted once we reached the bonfire, its heat rippling across my skin.
"Hmm?" I felt dazed, distant, dizzy.
"Have you ever had wine before?" She let out an amused laugh, turning towards me.
I found myself glancing back at Emily, wondering if she had even noticed me leaving. "Is that what it was?" I mumbled, my blood thick and sluggish.
"You do still know how to dance, do you?" Alena raised a brow at me, placing her free hand on my shoulder. I felt myself tense beneath her, turning to eye her warily, earning another laugh from her. "It's okay to touch me, I don't bite." She reached to place one of my hands on her hip, the other held in the air by her. She was smaller than Emily, rounder too, skin almost as pale as mine. I had to crane my neck to look her in the eye, something that made me feel out of proportion. She had started moving her feet, and I tried my best to follow her lead, brain swimming within my skull. "Artur mentioned you—well, I mean, more like he's mentioned Violet, to be honest." She tipped her head. "You seem nothing like he said."
"That's what interpretation does," I uttered through the fog of my mind. The bonfire roared loudly, its flickering light disorientating. I blinked in an attempt to clear my thoughts. "It's no different from painting with a restricted palette."
"Are you a philosopher?" she asked with a confused frown, but she decided to drop the question when I sent her an inattentive look. "Anyway, you had him worrying for your fiancé." Her eyes darted between mine. "Should he be?"
I averted my gaze, looking out across the mass of people that surrounded us, trying to give her words some serious thought despite my dizziness. "Does he make a habit of worrying over strangers he hardly knows?"
"I think he likes her," she admitted, "but I can see why she's with you."
I narrowed my gaze at her, the edges of my eyesight blurred by the wine. "You wanted to dance just to tell me this?"
She laughed, a little too sharply for my taste. "Of course not." She shook her head. "I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to celebrate the festival with a handsome foreigner."
I ignored her flirtatious words, wondering if this had all been Artur's idea. "And what is it we're celebrating?" I blurted before I could stop myself, mentally cursing my slippery tongue.
"You don't know?" she asked, raising her eyebrow again. "We're celebrating a successful harvest."
I froze at the unexpected words, sending her a look of confusion. "What?"
She smiled proudly as she took the chance to boast her knowledge, an excited look in her eyes as she spoke. "It's said that many centuries ago, the water became undrinkable, causing all the fish to die and the crops to fail—an absolute disaster for a town that spends half the year without light. We've been celebrating every last harvest before the darkness ever since."
"So it has nothing to do with the Outsider?"
She laughed at that, an amused smile lingering on her lips as she spoke. "The Outsider is just a story to scare the children, a ploy by the Abbey of the Everyman."
I nodded in understanding, eyes gazing around the crowd again, taking in their happy faces, their joyful dancing—none of it for me. The music felt brighter, somehow, the heaviness that had weighed down on me melted away by the flames of the crackling bonfire. "If you don't mind, I think I'll go dance with my fiancé now," I spoke, distantly. "Thank you." I turned away from the short girl, feet carrying me back towards the table. If she said anything else, I didn't hear it, all other sounds drowned out by the festive drum that beat with every step I took. I caught sight of Emily, her face lighting up the space around her. She noticed me as I approached, eyes flicking my way, sparkling with delight at the sight of me.
"I missed you," she admitted once I was close enough to hear, hand wrapping around mine as soon as I offered it. I smiled as I pulled her from her seat, leading her with me with all the poise my wine-influenced mind still allowed.
"You shouldn't allow other women to steal away your man like that," I chastised her, directing her towards the fire. "Such things hardly ever end well."
"You know hounds sometimes mark their mates with their teeth." She smirked. "Would you have my mark?"
"The irony would be a compelling factor," I admitted, pulling her closer, her hand traveling up my chest until it came to rest on my shoulder. We started to move to the music, her body swaying against mine, our breaths intermingling as I rested my forehead against hers.
"What's gotten you in such a good mood?" she asked, smiling lazily, half-lidded eyes gazing into mine.
I wove my fingers through hers, my other hand resting on the small of her back, feeling every movement beneath her dress. "You look beautiful, do you know that?" I hummed, enjoying the way her scent lingered in the air around her. "And also, maybe the wine."
She chuckled against me, the sound filling my chest. "I like you when you're tipsy."
"Why is that?" I asked, closing my eyes as I rested my chin on the top of her head, her cheek pressed against my chest.
"For one, you'll willingly dance with me for a change." She paused, burying her nose into my shirt, breathing me in. "So, is this all you had in mind when you proposed we go out and live?"
I smiled into her hair, pressing a kiss there. "All that and more."
Perhaps the second glass of wine hadn't been the greatest idea, but then again, the third had been even worse. The streets danced beneath my feet, the air shoving me around and causing me to stumble. Right now the Void had made more sense, my knees disobeying my every order. Emily continued her snorts and giggles at the sight, her own feet even less adept at carrying her home—she really wasn't in any position to be laughing. I didn't dare imagine the mortifying process of sobering up, the memory of our drunken antics probably enough to keep me from liquor for the remainder of my life. We'd lingered at the bonfire until its last embers had died out, our table overflowing with emptied glasses and a snoring Luka.
I had to admit, interacting with them had been quite nice, despite their insistence on feeding us more and more drinks. I'd never been a part of anything, really, and their open armed acceptance had broken down my walls fairly quickly—or maybe it had been the wine. Even so, it had been nice to see Emily have fun, her sheltered upbringing and status often keeping her from enjoying the festivities the way I knew she wanted. It had been a long time since I'd seen her laugh around others without restraint, since I'd witnessed that defiant spark in her eyes that never failed to draw in the people around her. She truly was an Empress, carrying the ability to entrance the crowd within her very bones. I felt her bump into me as she stumbled again, another snicker escaping her as she pulled at me for balance. I almost lost mine as a result, hand catching on the door of the inn just in time, Emily's undying laughter doing nothing to improve my predicament.
"You look like an idiot," she wheezed from beneath my arm, cheeks flushed brightly.
"Says the moron in the red dress," I fired back, hand fruitlessly searching for the doorknob, unable to contain my own laughter as I watched her face fall at the mention of her ruined garment. My fingers finally wrapped around cool metal, turning it eagerly, a little too eagerly as the door swung open and sent us stumbling. Emily burst out into another fit of laughter, arms clinging to me for support, my own balance caught against the nearest table. The entire room spun, the walls dancing before my eyes. The sound of a throat being cleared caused my blood to run cold, the influence of wine immediately forgotten by its sobering effect.
There, near the fireplace, sat the familiar figure of Callista, flanked by a very, very grim looking Corvo.