Disclaimer: I do not own D. Gray Man. No financial gain is made from this. This is for entertainment purposes only.

Author's note: thanks to the guest that left a lovely review!

"Exactly, my dear. Bernarda - God bless her, right," he winked mockingly, "she knew something was up. She not only used her social status to avoid us from gaining influence, but she also started to use her deceased husband's funds to financially support the church and the Black Order." He sipped his tea. "You thought you were the only one sensing something amiss, but failed to see that you were actually helping our plans. Feeling stupid yet, my dear?"

I glared at the man at the other side of the chess board.

Sheril Kamelot.

An acquaintance I had preferred not to meet.

But I had not much choice. I had been dragged from my cage, pampered and brought to him. I had been forced to wear a dress and make-up. He did not like ugly things. We were at his house, opulent and outlandish like the man himself. The smell of the flowers in the garden, the expensive tea and coffee, the marble and ebony chess, the well-mannered service... We almost looked as two friends cordially sharing a weekend morning.

I moved my queen to save her from his bishop. It seemed neither of us knew how to play well chess, but he had insisted we should, to make our exchange more sophisticated.

"So that's it? You made all those efforts to get rid of an old aristocrat widow? Why did you not just send one of your monsters to kill her?" I spat. I was displeased to be paraded around by these demons just for their delight when they wanted to. Since my trip to visit mother, I had not been let out of the cage once.

He sighed and shook his head. "You don't understand. Bernarda gave us the connections needed to advance our-my influence. I am Prime Minister, you know?"

"I know," I said pointedly. "You told me at the beginning and reminded me a few times already. I get it. You are important. Now make your move."

I had told him you must bet when you play games, so we had bet my freedom.

His hand ghosted over the board and he studied my expressions. Then, he moved his rook around with no apparent aim. I frowned.

"Do you even know what Bernarda inherited from her husband? The second biggest transport fleet in Europe. Carrying goods all around five continents. Of course, it did not belong fully to her. But she owned three fifths and she was a smart woman. She was working towards gaining full control of the company. Could you imagine the power it represented? And she was using it to further the Black Orders influence. Even daring to send missionaries!" he rambled. He did enjoy the sound of his own voice. "We wanted it. But eliminating Bernarda would only mean the company went to other hands. There was a risk it fell to enemy's hands. That would have been a catastrophe."

I moved my knight and eliminated his rook. "So you send Tyki to marry Lucille? It still does not make any sense to me."

He chuckled. "Your unawareness makes you almost cute." He moved a pawn. "Imagine this would be chess. We want to win the game, get control over the trade market and avoid Bernarda's ban. Checkmate. But she is strong, she has a lot of influence. We are talking noblemen, merchants, politicians... She is the queen. You cannot straight get her. But you don't need to get her to win the game. You just need to go for the king. He is weaker. He can move less. He is Lucille."

"Lucille is the king?" I repeated.

He nodded. "It was never a question that Tyki would get married. Oh no," he laughed. "We just needed sweet Lucille on our side. Away from our opponents that sought to marry her and get a hold of Bernarda's power. Lucille was perfect. She was young and inexperienced, unlike Bernarda. Gullible even. A sad character, honestly. So willingly to buy into our pretense..."

"Do not speak like that about her," I gritted my teeth and made a move.

He ignored me. "Tyki went, did his job well. Got two women at once. He is just irresistible, I know," he squeaked. "The plan was simple; he would ask Lucille to sign him off as owner of the company, promising his love in return. He would use some made up excuse like 'he needed the money to settle an important affair' and make some big eyes and cash the prize. Then be off. Everybody is willing now to buy into the self-made man..." He sipped his tea, moved his queen. "Check."

I tried to concentrate in the game, but anger clouded my reason. "It doesn't make any of this better. You were just playing with our lives. Bernarda and Lucille would have ended up poor and heartbroken."

He smirked sadistically. "I never said what we do is right. Well, it is right for us. You did help us a lot. Saved us effort and time. Once Lucille was out the game, Bernarda was easy to convince to let go of her possessions to bring back her daughter."

"Happy to know I helped," I retorted sarcastically. I moved my king to safety.

"That's why I am taking you out a bit. Must be lonely in that cage. Check."

"Why are you keeping me around then?" I asked, sacrificing pieces to save up my game. "I already played the part you wanted me to."

He chuckled, as a kid trying to keep a secret. "Who knows?" he sang. "Maybe because you entertain us well. Maybe because you might be useful later. Maybe I am going to kill you after this game of chess. Who knows!" he laughed like a madman. Then he turned serious, "Any more questions?" I shook my head. "Checkmate."

He did know how to play.

"You look tired," I crunched my nose, "and smell worst than I do and I have not been allowed to bath for who knows how long."

Tyki moved his head upwards to peak at me. He had just arrived and slumped against the cage's bars. I had not seen him for, what I guessed, weeks.

"I've had a lot of work," he said with a smile of exhaustion.

"Oh, so you do consider that what you do is work..."

"Honest work, princess," he drawled and lighted up a cigarette. The fire of the match stole beautiful golden hues from my prison. "If you want we can shower together. Stop smelling like hobos."

His joke fell flat, my glance grew hateful. "When are you going to let me go?" I asked in a whimper. My soul was defeated. "Did you not torture me enough?"

He turned and quickly rose to his feet, stared at me. He was so close, I bet I could grab his neck and choke him, scratch his face, hurt him somehow. "You can leave tomorrow."

I gaped idiotically. "What?"

"Leave tomorrow if you want. I promised Road we would visit the opera house tonight," he explained.

My eyes widened. I pulled my head to the bars, the tips of our noses almost touched as I studied his face. "I know you..." I whispered.

He laughed awkwardly. "Of course you know me. What are you saying?"

"We met on a train..."

He smiled, complacent. "So you do remember."

I gasped.

We had first met on a train. Not in Bernarda's house, like I first thought. No, he had worn almost another face, he played a different persona.

It was a long distance train. We had one way tickets. Father had died and now he laid buried in a cemetery next to the sea, so the waves helped his boat passage to the other life. Mother did not get along with his mother well, so with nobody else to tie us to my birthplace, she had accepted her sister's invitation to live in France. They were both widowed now and they both had daughters roughly the same age, so what better arrangement than to help each other through life's hardships?

Mother had fallen asleep, head against the window, but I could not get to sleep. Sorrow weighted heavy on my chest. My legs ached after the hours sitting down and I decided to go for a stroll. There was a restaurant somewhere, in a different coach. Out of curiosity and not hunger, I set up to find it. I found him instead.

He was a hobo then. Unaffected dressing, stupid glasses and a carefree smile. He traveled with two other men and a sweet orphan kid that did not fit in the group.

"Monsieur, passengers without tickets must desert in the next quai," the controller spoke with a heavy accent. He was a tall rigid thin man but the long mustache gave him a stern look.

"Come on, let us stay one more stop," Tyki's friend had pleaded. "We are traveling for work, we will pay the trip back. We have-we have a kid with us."

The kid flaunted in front of the controller seemed to infuriate him further. "Be happy I do not force you out of the moving train right now."

I checked my pockets and stepped forward. "Excuse me, sir. I will pay their tickets."

The mustache danced as the controller seized me up. "Are you sure, mademoiselle?"

I offered him the coins, more than enough to settle the group's travel all the way to the north of the country. Coins earned by dad and that he would never be able to spend anymore. Such a stupid impulse to get rid of them. Coins I also used to buy those first cooing pigeons. The affair settled, I walked ahead, not finding the joy expected in my charity impulse.

People chatted animatedly in the restaurant wagon and the smoke from cigarettes and cigars dimmed the yellow lights in the ornamented wooden ceiling. I wondered why they were on, since it was still daytime and the Sun hit strong the side of the car - some travelers had even drawn the velvety curtains. I settled in an empty table and the leather seat whined as I took place. I observed the menu, trying to get used to the new words, these foreign dishes.

The menu was swiftly stolen from my hands and the thief ordered lunch to the passing waiter before sitting in front of me.

"I thought you had no coin," I said.

The hobo lighted up a cigarette and smiled and I was surprised by the whiteness of his teeth. "I wanted to thank you for your hospitality."

"By swindling me off my money?"

"You look like you can use some company, girl. You are traveling alone?" he asked instead. People hid their subtle stares, but we both knew they were repulsed by his presence in this coach.

"With my mother."

"Two women on a trip? Visiting family?"

I crunched my nose at the foul smell of the cigarette. Could such a thing taste good? I had no vice. "Kind of. We are moving to live with my aunt."

"Wanted to change scenery?" The family sitting behind him moved places.

I opened the curtain and squinted at the fast moving trees. "Father died."

The smirk left his lips and he took a long drag. "Sorry to hear that." He sounded truthful.

The waiter set both plates in front of us and settled a wine bottle in between. He wished us 'bon appetit', bound to his duty even to this tramp.

He started to eat and his manners, albeit flawed, did not disgust me. He pointed my plate with his knife. "You should eat. It will get cold."

I pushed around the beans with my fork. "I am not hungry." A sentence I had been repeating quite too often those days. "And I don't know you."

He wiped his mouth with the spotless napkin. "Try to make an effort. There is a snob cook somewhere in this wagon already crying because he had to feed a scum like me. What will he do when he finds out that the pretty lady does not want to taste his cuisine?" He studied the piece of meat in his fork but his eyes trailed off. "Besides, it is not too bad for free food."

I tried to discern what he was staring at through those ugly glasses. His words hit me when I saw the controllers walking to the waiter. "What-?"

His hand shot to grab my wrist and he dragged me on my feet. I could not protest in my surprise as he guided me through the coaches. But we had not paid for the food! I felt a surge of fear, thinking of the consequences of our acts. I was a proper young girl; where was this stranger leading me to? I should ask for help, I thought.

"Relax," he smiled. "I will show you something. Consider it repayment."

I had to admit: I was scared as we walked down towards the last coach. People's attires did no longer fit mine. Their faces were wrinkled with the signs of hard work and life struggles. Him though, he blended nicely with the poorer.

"Here," he said, before opening a door. The strong wind blew strands of hair out of my up-do and I had to shield my eyes from the sudden onslaught. He was unaffected as he sat down at the edge of the open wagon's door, feet dangling dangerously over the rails, wine bottle in hand. I had not noticed him snatching it, but he had taken my untouched plate of food too and settled it at his side. "Milady?" he swept his hand across the space he had reserved for me.

Gripping the handrail and gathering as I could my skirt, I sat. I sighed, as if I had not breathed in weeks. And as the panic faded away, I dared to move my eyes up from the void beneath our feet. The gorgeous landscape brought tears to my eyes, or maybe it was the tension of these days that lifted a bit from my shoulders. In any case, the violent breeze dried them as soon as they came. I gasped when the flock of cranes dotted the sky, migrating south. Their black silhouettes against the clear sky elegant, as ballet dancers flaunting their perfection around the scene. I tried to distinguish other birds as we traveled the countryside.

"I like birds," I suddenly said. "They look so free, up in the sky. Nobody to bother them. Free to go wherever they want. When they get cold, they can move south. When it's too hot, they go to the north..." I glanced at him, uncharacteristically contemplative for such an eccentric character. "I am sorry, I am babbling nonsense..."

"No, I get it. I like also their freedom." I studied his profile. I wondered how he looked like without the dumb glasses and the baggy clothes. A free bird, he was. "But I bet even for them sometimes the flight is difficult. They must survive adversity and fatigue."

I picked a potato from the cold plate with my fingers and tasted it. Nobody could see or bother here that I lost my etiquette. "Would you change it?" He raised an eyebrow. "Your lifestyle," I clarified.

He laughed. "Wow, I am not good at these philosophy things." He scratched his head. "It is good to have a bit of both, no? To be able to choose the kind of life you want to lead."

I nodded, stuffing my mouth with more potatoes and sauce. I don't know how long we stayed there, but we felt the train slow down and the shapes, the trees, the brook, they became clearer as their lines stilled. Soon, the train would make a short stop in a small village's station.

"I should get back," I stood up and dusted off my black dress.

He followed, uncaring of his appearance. "I will guide you to your coach, my princess."

He did, and we just left behind the empty plate.

"You followed me to the south of France-" I wanted to accuse the same man that now held me captive in a cage years later, but a sharp pain made me cradle my head.

"Ssshh," he stepped into the cage, phasing through its bars. His hands guided me now. "You should not strain yourself. Road will give me hell if we have to cancel her plans." He guided me out the room with the softness of a lover. "You know what? I am sure a bath will do you good. Take that headache away." I gritted my teeth. This was no simple headache. "Voila, here we are."

I squinted at the bathroom. An iron bathtub of lion feet was already filled and I could not help but to enjoy the sweet aroma of the perfume and herbs added to its waters. I winced, trying to forget those memories that brought me so much ache. He lead my hands to the brim of the tub and I held onto it, willing the world to stop spinning.

"What are you doing?!" I exclaimed. I had turned to see him undressing, peeled from the expensive jacket and in the process of unbuttoning the exquisite shirt.

He acted innocent, a role unfit for such a creature. "I am going to take a bath."

I huffed and marched towards the door. He snatched me around the waist and put me back where I was. "Just joking, princess," he smirked. I didn't find it as amusing though and he quickly threw the jacket over his shoulder and headed out. "I thought I would give it a try," he mumbled to the corridor and I checked the door for a locking mechanism.

Which I didn't find.

I stared at the bathtub. It seemed a masterpiece, all golden and shiny in the middle of the dark room. I wondered what illuminated it, since no chandeliers or lamps hanged from its walls. Instead, an ugly wallpaper could barely be seen behind an assortment of gloomy paintings. Some depicted still life, with very dark backgrounds; some were landscapes, but always oppressing, of clouded skies and void of critters; there was also a number of portraits, but the people on them had none of the charm and appeal of my captors. I stopped and glared at one painting with a particular motif: Death and the maiden. A shiver ran up my spine and I shook my head.

What a macabre decor for a bath...

Oh, the bath! I hurried to it. Water must be getting cold. I dipped my fingers. It was still the perfect temperature and I hesitated. Never had I imagined one could be so desperate for a bath. So many things I had taken for granted. So, so desperate that I was willing to undress in this house of monsters. I searched for a chair or a desk to block the door, but finding none, I pried the grim painting from the wall and stuck it under the handle. It was heavier than I thought and I panted satisfied once it moved no longer, facing the door so I had not to be reminded that I was as prisoner as the poor maiden stuck between Death and its scythe.

I shed my exorcist uniform, ominously removing the last thing that tied me to that shattered peace. I plunged into the waters, as a dark baptism in this cursed hell. They were no longer crystalline as they troubled with the dirt in my skin and hair. I resurfaced like a shy child, water still caressing my chin as I settled comfortably. In all the hideousness of these fiends' lair, this felt like Heaven.

And suddenly I remembered his ignored words: I could leave tomorrow. Butterflies danced in my stomach and I could not hold my excitement and I playfully hit the water. I hoped I heard properly; my torment was coming to an end. And this time I would make sure I never crossed path with him again. I would learn to hide, to live an hermit. I would find solace in a convent, where no man, supernatural or not, could step foot.

"Madam," a voice resonated in the almost empty room and I almost hit my head against the porcelain. It was that maid Akuma that followed me around. Since when it was here? "Shall I change your water?"

Defeated, I sighed.

"You look better now," Road chimed. "Of course, you are not as pretty as Lucille, but you can come with us."

She extended a gloved hand and I gritted my teeth as I took it. From all the Noah I had the unpleasantness to meet so far, this little girl disturbed me the most. I could not help the disagreeable goosebumps that ran up my arms when our fingers interlaced. I could not pinpoint exactly why the strong reaction; maybe it was the faked purity or the affected sweetness, but there was sadism in her eyes.

We were all - the four of us - dressed in our finest and I had been pampered by the maid Akuma, which was to my surprise a meticulous servant. Lucille was radiant. Her golden ringlets framed her high rosy cheeks and nobody would have believed she was dead. She looped her hand around Tyki's arm, and they paraded in front of us as the couple he had promised her they would be.

"Eva, you are crushing my hand," Road complained with a smile.

I took a deep breath. "My bad, I am sorry."

"You seem nervous. I heard you enjoyed opera much. That's why I asked Tyki to bring you here," she explained.

These mind games... "How old are you anyways?"

She batted her long eyelashes. "Why? I am just a child."

"Then behave like one."

My boldness excited her more. "What is it that makes you trigger like this? Is it coming back to the opera of your mistakes? Is it having Lucille back? Is it seeing her in Tyki's arms? Or maybe seeing Tyki with another woman-"

"Stop," I warned her.

She smiled. "Oh, but we have just started."

One night, I kept repeating. Survive the night and tomorrow they will let you free. It made it easier; easier to ignore the memories, the blitz of emotions. Anger, sorrow, regrets, jealousy, embarrassment, sadness... They all paraded as the actors with the changing scenes. The first act finished and I didn't realize I was crying.

"I want to leave," I pleaded Tyki as the lights came back for the break between acts.

"Already?" Road chimed. "But we only saw the first part! And you are doing so well. We could barely hear you sobbing over the aria."

"Please," I said.

"You know what? I think I want to spend some time with Tyki myself. You are always taking up his time," she reprimanded me and latched onto his arm. "I want to make a tour of the opera, Tyki pon. And I've heard you know some nice spots away from the people. Eva can catch up with Lucille. I am sure they have a lot to speak about," she winked and they left.

I studied Lucille. She did look like the real one, or at least, how I remembered her. The plump lips, the generous bust, the clear eyes... Yet she looked less like the magical dryad and more like the worried Penelope.

"You are wondering if it is really me," she suddenly spoke as if reading my thoughts. "I am. Kind of. Road let me keep my personality. My thoughts. All but my free will."

"I am sorry," I blurted.

"What?"

"This is all my fault," I gestured around us. "Your... death. This torture..."

"I won't pity you." Her eyes were fixed on the scene, but I could imagine the glances of the men from other balconies, lusting after her deadly beauty. "I do blame you, but not for everything."

"I was selfish. Even if I don't deserve it, I hope one day you can forgive me."

She glared at me and her eyes shone an electric blue. Ire. "What is it worth forgiveness from the dead, Eva? Even in the afterlife, I am being haunted by your mistakes. I will never find peace. Once again, I am a recurring character of the story of your life. I envied you so much. You had everything!" Her beauty was not enough to hide the tiredness of the soul. "A good reputation, a bright future in Paris, a man that loved you for who you are and not because you are rich or pretty. People sought you for conversation and not for carnal pleasure."

"How could you envy me? You were the epitome of what we all girls aspired to be!"

"Beauty fades, yet your freedom... You could chose who to speak to, what to speak about, who to be, where to go. Men lost their interest once they could not court me and women hated me without sharing a word." Her lip trembled and her voice softened. Misery. "I thought for once I could chose who to be. Not to be courted, but to court. I thought..." she glanced sideways, "...he... I thought I chose him. And that he chose me because he saw more than beauty. He used to ask about my interests, my feelings... all lies."

"I was deceived too."

She held up a hand. "I could have lived with that mistake. If I had chosen to. Yet you, who had everything, took that away from me too. And made me the laughingstock of society. You know what people said? They said I deserved it. They said my fiance went with another because I was daft, a harlot, mean, without a personality. That no man would even want me. They blamed me. And you."

"They will never blame men," I said defeated. "I wanted freedom too. You always spoke of your dream life. Marrying and having a lot of kids. You were good with children." I smiled sadly. "Did you really want that? I remember saying it too, but it was just because it was the right thing to say. What I really wanted was to travel and see the wonders with my own eyes, not through men's tales."

She snorted, amused. "I was telling the truth. When I felt my dream was stolen, I saw no longer a reason for living through the disdain, the malice of the people."

"I wish you would have spoken to us. To me," I said.

"I wish you would have done so too," she smiled sadly.

We had not noticed people taking back their seats until the light dimmed down again. Road took back her seat next to me.

She made a sign of her head towards the scene. "I hope the villain wins."

Villains and heroes, I thought, what a fine line separates them. I wondered if the villain does not sometimes feel like a hero too.