"We aren't going to get the stone out in thirty-years. It's mathematically impossible." The voices behind her bantered loudly, but Selene's eyes dropped to her hand. There were three, short red marks. Seven days later, she couldn't stop clenching her hands until she bled. Seven days after wondering if he was alive, if he was okay, if she was horrible. The guilt – the guilt was killing her. The guilt of not saying anything.

"And I thought I had made a deal with the devil. Where is that devil now?" Selene's eyes flickered upward, taking in the grand scene once more. Tobias had scooted out of his chair jerkily, agitated as his eyes looked glared outside the window. Leon was still in his chair but his face was turned away, as if he had just got done with rolling his eyes dramatically. But beside him, Clythia sat victoriously. She sunk deeper into her chair with a smirk. Selene could feel the anger build up inside her once more as she took Clythia in. It's just work, Selene, Tobias had told her. She's only going to be here for an hour. Yes, she would be. For the third time this week. Selene was tempted to remind him that, but when her eyes scrolled down Clythia's glimmering rose-gold gown, and the prissy look on her face, she knew there no use. Drunk or not, Clythia had a string attached to him.

"Amazingly enough, the devil has more to worry about then just money," Selene drawled, looking nowhere with a bored expression on her face. In the corner of her eyes, she could see Clythia glowering at her. "Maybe you should take that advice." Tobias's eyes flickered at her cautiously but she didn't cower from Clythia.

"And you know so much about politics?" Clythia said, leaning over the table to grow closer. Tobias looked over his shoulder sharply.

"Watch yourself, Clythia," Tobias warned with a low growl. "This alliance is very much conditional." Clythia leaned back as she lifted up her palms innocently. She puckered her lips at him.

"Sorry, Lady Selene," Clythia said, though the apology only made Selene angrier. "I just mean….unless you've had experience, it's hard to really say."

"Actually, I have had experience in this area. I've seen those Illyrians go overworked. I've seen them die from exhaustion. I'd like to remind you that those are my people," Selene said. Tobias's patience had disappeared entirely. She could feel Leon's gaze on her – lingering on her as if he was impressed by her words, but he didn't say a word.

"We're high leaders," Clythia argued. "Their opinion is irrelevant. They don't see the greater good. They can't-"

"Think at the same level as you?" Selene finished, her eyebrows raising. "I can understand every word that you're saying, Clythia. I've been tutored by these people, raised by these people." Tobias, who was still lingering out the large windows, huffed. Quickly, Selene's eyes jotted towards him.

"Barely," he muttered. Selene's strong expression collapsed. Her mouth opened a little bit and then closed. Clythia, not in view of Tobias, gave out a silent laugh while Leon inched closer across the table. His face tightened.

"I agree with her," Leon said easily. There was not a slight hesitation in his voice. "Selene knows these people, Tobias. I'm taking her side on this." Tobias whirled around sharply, staring at her.

"Then what do you think, Selene?" He demanded. His voice was flat but she could tell he was embarrassed by her outburst. "Give me an idea." She rose her chin bravely.

"You consult their leaders," Selene said, as if she hadn't even heard his tone. "You ask their opinion. They aren't going to say no – they enjoy the challenge. They find pride in doing something that people say is the impossible. But they'll tell you whether it's realistic or if it's a dream. They'll tell you the truth." Clythia blinked at her stupidly.

"Tobias-"

"Leave, Clythia," Tobias said sharply. "This meeting is going to be postponed." Clythia had a face filled with objection but Leon's expressed was filled with what are you waiting for, go, that she didn't hesitate. She turned to Tobias, a bright smile on her face.

"I look forward to our next meeting," she said, and then disappeared before anybody else could say another word.

~*~ discidium ~*~

"Tobias-" Leon's words came out before Clythia was fully gone. Selene looked over next to her and saw that Leon was closer than before, hovering over her.

"Find me a solution," Tobias said, looking at Selene. "Give me a fucking solution then, Selene." Selene and Leon couldn't help but exchange looks, surprise flickering on both of their faces.

"Well, um…" Selene's voice choked for a moment. She hadn't expected him to let her speak. "I think we should…ask. Just ask." Tobias crossed his arms, his eyebrows raising.

"If we just asked every time the court had to make a decision based on greater good, we would be in ashes right now," Tobias snapped. "If you're going to undermine me, my rule, you might as well give me a damn good solution." Tobias's eyes turned towards Leon as well, eyeing him coldly.

"We have a party," Leon offered. "A ball, a conference, whatever it takes. And we invite all of them – all of the generals, all of the leaders, all of the individuals who have made hard choices. All of whom are in the books of men who have gone beyond their duty. And yes, we ask. We nonchalantly ask, whispering in their ear, making it casual conversation." Tobias chewed on the inside of his lip contemplatively. The anger had washed away a little bit – now it was only frustration and hard choices.

"They're commoners. How can they comprehend this type of issue?" Tobias asked, not without purposely avoiding Selene's eyes. Selene shook her head, her face filled with disgust.

"They die for you," Selene said. "They don't just blindly go into slaughter and fight for their court. Just like me, just like you, they are people. And they deserve a voice." The darkness on Tobias's face showed otherwise.

"And Clythia is not invited," Leon added. Selene's eyebrows rose. It was a bold demand, saying as Tobias and Clythia's relationship was strengthening every time they spoke to each other. In the beginning, it was short sentences between the two of them. Now, their meetings were held for at least two hours at a time. Sometimes Tobias would even force Leon and Selene to leave if they became too hostile against Clythia. Of course, Tobias's relationship with Clythia was far more breakable, but she was always careful on not stepping past that line, unlike Leon and Selene.

"Clythia is invited," Tobias argued dryly. "I think I come off…unlikable. I need somebody like Clythia to attract them. To persuade the Illyrians to see our perspective."

"But-"

"No!" Tobias growled at the both of them. "I'm doing this your way – once, and only once. But Clythia is invited. This is her dream as well. I am not going to punish her just because you two refuse to forget something that happened ages ago." Selene's lips pursed.

"I didn't know she was a part of our family now," Leon said, cold and quiet. Tobias's snarl went down as he held Leon's chilling gaze. Tobias reflected his gaze with something unreadable, as if he was trying to see something that Selene would never be able to detect. They stared and stared at each other, Leon's piercing look harsher than Selene could muster, and Tobias's scrutinizing stare glistening with uncertainty.

"Family is relative," Tobias said, in the exact same tone.

"Not to me," Selene interrupted, rising from her chair jerkily. "Not to us, Tobias."

~*~ discidium ~*~

She had locked the bedroom door as soon as she went in, throwing off all of the sparkly jewelry that she insisted on wearing so flauntingly when Clythia came over, and sliding off the latest expensive dress that Tobias had bought her. Everything was so pretty – the jewelry, the dresses, the makeup and the hair style. She thought she could use it as a weapon. She wanted to show Clythia how powerful she was, how much of an influence she had over her husband. She realized, though, after that conversation, it wasn't worth anything. Because Clythia's jealousy didn't stem from expensive gifts or proving who had more of an influence. It stemmed from power.

She immediately went towards a paper and pen, making sure to write down every important man and woman who could have a significant effect on this party. Who was more important? And what side was she trying to persuade?

"I can't go." She looked up, jumping slightly. Leon was lingering in front of the locked door, facing her. She looked puzzled.

"But-how-"

"Winnowed," Leon said, a small smile on his face. "But no, seriously, I can't go." She shook her head lightly, blinking.

"Okay, why?" She asked. "This was your idea too." Leon laughed lightly at this, pacing in a circle in front of her. His arms were crossed against his chest and his eyes seemed so far away.

"I have to meet with the heir of Autumn," Leon said. Quickly, Selene jumped to her feet.

"Is he sending you away?" Selene breathed. Leon shook his head fast, walking towards her.

"No, I volunteered to go," Leon said. "The heir of Autumn has been a…hassle for a while now and I just got word that he's willing to meet. I'm sorry but I can't miss out on this. I've been trying to persuade him for a meeting for months." The desperate look on her face dissolved and her eyebrows furrowed down.

"Does Tobias know this?" She asked, her voice soft. "That you're not going to attend his ball?"

"He knows. He doesn't mind," Leon said evenly. "Anyways, this ball isn't exactly about me and him. It's about Clythia and him." And while there wasn't a single hint of bitterness in Leon's words, it hit Selene like a boulder.

"Right," she whispered. "Well, good luck to you." And when Leon smiled back, worry was etched on his face. He looked down at her, swallowing.

"Good luck to you as well, beautiful Selene," Leon whispered, and then winnowed away without a second look.

~*~ discidium ~*~

"Can't I just kill them all?" Tobias muttered, leading her into the large ballroom. Her black, slick dress slithered against the floor. It was one of her best – a silk dress that slowly transitioned into a dark purple lace as it tickled the floor. Throughout her dress, there were random diamonds here and there. It was the last dress that Leon presented her before he left for the Autumn Court. Possibly a materialistic apology.

"No," Selene said, a small smile on your lips. Tobias grunted displeasingly.

"My child is never going to deal with this," Tobias whispered. "Hopefully, I'll find a solution to all of this boringness by the time she's of age." Selene let out a small chuckle.

"Oh, you're not just going to marry her off?" Selene said, joking now. Tobias snorted at this.

"More like someone's son will be married off to her," Tobias said. "Truthfully, I'm glad she's not a boy. For one, a boy having the spirit of both of us would be disastrous." A butterfly fluttered in her stomach when she heard his words. The usually talked about the baby daily, but he rarely talked about it unless it was relevant.

"Also, where are the Illyrians?" Tobias said, staring around. People walked around buzzingly, filling in each space of the ballroom, occasionally speaking stiffly with Tobias, but so far nobody had gotten any progress done. "I don't see any wings." The small smile stretched across her face further.

"They, like me, know how to hide it. Especially since they're higher ranked and their flight abilities are more advanced," Selene said. Tobias looked down at her. At her deep plunge, the slight curve of her body, the miniature bump that nobody would ever be able to detect in a dress so dark. Diamonds were scattered down her dress – enough just to make people look twice. Her hand was in curls and was pinned up elegantly, letting the occasional curls to bounce down elegantly. A large garnet stone was hanging around her neck gloriously.

"I'm lucky to have you," Tobias said. She looked up at him and his twisting dark eyes. "I know I don't say it but I couldn't be here if it wasn't for you. I wouldn't ever get this far." At first she was quiet, her lips opened slightly, but then the redheaded gorgon walked in front of her.

She was just as beautiful as Selene, if not more. She wore a long-sleeved, black lace dress that was entirely see-through right until her nipples and tickled the floor powerfully, alike to Selene's. There was a slit on the side of her dress, teasing men with her seductive figure and tugged around her tightly. She looked like a queen in her dress – a dark, terrifying queen. Her lips were dark red and her hair was made in large red curls that caressed her oval-shaped face. Her eyes were dancing when she looked at Tobias. Tobias smirked.

"I've talked to all of the high officials here, already," she told him. As Selene looked around, she noticed the ballroom was divided – most of the Illyrian men, dressed in nice Illyrian attire, were lingering on one side while the higher officials lingered on another.

"And?" Tobias asked, his voice gruff. "What did they say?" Her slithery smile lengthened.

"They love it," she said, her red lips tickling her champagne glass. "And they love you, Tobias. They're eating it up."

"And the Illyrians?" Selene said. For the first time, Clythia's eyes ran down her. She glanced at her as if she had entirely forgotten she was there – that she even existed.

"They haven't even tried conversing with me. Most didn't even bother to come," Clythia said, rolling her eyes. "It doesn't matter though, we have already gotten enough backing." Selene let out an amused exhale.

"We weren't trying to get the high-face backing. We wanted the Illyrian backing." Clythia shot her a look of annoyance.

"Then you can go talk to them," Clythia hissed. Tobias wasn't even paying attention – his eyes were gazing over at the area where the high-fae were lingering, eating and laughing. Some had transitioned to the dance floor, but most were mingling together. Tobias's back seemed to straighten as he looked at them.

"I will," Selene said, matter-of-factly. "Please, continue mingling with your higher-fae. I would love to see how far it gets you." Her words went straight over Clythia's head. Instead, Clythia put her long fingers on Tobias's shoulder.

"Come on," she said to Tobias. "Let Selene go talk to the Illyrians. I need to introduce you to some people." Tobias let her go slowly, leaning close to Clythia as they walked together towards the group of people. While Tobias had briefly introduced her to some of the individuals mingling, she hadn't exactly met them. Instead, Clythia would be the first to join him when he introduced himself to the higher-fae. They looked like a power-couple as they walked away from her and she felt the firm look on her face disappear the farther Clythia and Tobias went. As they stopped, Clythia put her hand on Tobias's shoulder.

"Selene," A voice breathed. Suddenly, Selene whirled around and right when she connected eyes, she felt like she had been punched in the stomach.

"Devlon," she said, in the same exact tone. He was cleaner than she remembered but everything else about him was the same – his large stature, his wide shoulders, his tan skin, the slight stubble on his face - it was the same. His dark, messy hair was carefully tamed behind his ears was something she had never seen, but the brown-black strands nearly glowed under the fire-torched light. He was dressed in a traditional uniform, something she was surprised he could even fit in. All she remembered was the sweat-wet hair, seeing him scream in the pouring ice-rain as other Illyrians' blood ran down his body. She looked down at him, imagining the old symbols that he had tattooed over his chest, the inside of his arm, all over his body that his uniform now covered.

"You're not dead," she said. She flushed as she realized she had said it out loud and at first he looked at her emotionlessly, like he was staring at a brick wall, but a smile appeared.

"You think someone would be able to kill me?" He said, his eyebrows rising. "Me?" But she couldn't reply. She was tongue tied as she stared at him, trying to take in every inch of him.

"You're not dead," he breathed. And she knew he meant it –the darkness rang in his voice, the worry finally showing as his scrolled around her. "I heard but I didn't actually think he'd…" She smiled.

"Handle me?" She finished. "He can't." He looked around hastily, eyeing the people around them.

"I don't trust them," he admitted, pointing to the lingering men with his eyes. "Dance with me, so I can talk to you." She took his hand, firm with callouses and scars, and glided against his body to the slow, vibrant song.

At first he didn't speak, just kept looking at her wildly.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," he whispered. She took in a breath, shaking her head as he spun her. Everything around them seemed to fade away as they danced, breathing into each other, the memories flashing beyond their eyes.

"I've thought the same," she admitted quietly. "I didn't think you'd be invited." He didn't say anything, as if avoiding the topic entirely.

"I lost sleep wondering if you'd gotten caught," he whispered. "I thought of you every day. But when I heard…I thought he must've locked you up. That you were worse than dead." She felt her cheeks burn as she struggled to form words.

"I wouldn't let that happen to me," she replied. "I would burn this whole place down before that happened." He gave her a tilted smile.

"Of course. I've taught you well," he said back, his eyes searching hers. Evaluating her, trying to find the girl she once well. "You've changed." She blinked. She couldn't disagree with it, he was correct. But she knew he didn't like change. He believed in embracing, maximizing, your potential. Not changing it.

"I'm not the girl you once thought I was," she replied, her voice coming off nervous. "I grew up." He let out an exhale.

"You look…" His voice trailed off, his eyes dangling on the black dress. She noticed how his eyes looked at each diamond, his face unreadable as he scanned her from head to toe.

"Look what?" She asked, her voice breaking. She waited for him to say it – the disdain, the disgust to ring in his voice. But then he gave her a half-smile, something hard to accomplish when it came to Devlon.

"Like you should," Devlon answered, so very carefully. Her smile collapsed. Her feet stopped sliding with the rhythm and she could feel her hands loosen around him. But he kept leading her along, not twitching even though she had nearly flinched.

"That's not fair," she hissed. "You don't get to say that to me. Not you, of all people." His eyebrows rose innocently.

"Selene, it was a complim-"

"No it's not," she snapped fast. "You know it's not. You hate these things. You hate these people." His eyes didn't fall away from hers. Instead, they stayed there, staring into her like she was broken glass.

"I don't hate you," He replied carefully. She gave a sarcastic, low chuckle.

"How did you even get invited to this thing?" She asked sharply. "What, you're telling me they invited a foot soldier to a ball concerning the High Lord of Night?" His face turned dead white. He stopped trying to dance with her, his eyes darkening. Immediately, she regretted it. Her stomach spun nervously.

"Devlon-"

"No," he said stiffly. "You're right, Selene. They would never invite a petty foot soldier here."

"I just meant, that after you left and never came back, I just assumed-"

"That I would never go up the ranks?" He asked, his voice like sharp glass. "Like I wasn't good enough to accomplish something? Who would want a low-born Illyrian, right?" She shook her head sharply.

"The last time I heard from you, you were half-assing all of your duties," she said defensively. "What else was I supposed to assume?" This time Devlon let out a chuckle. It was beyond his personality to laugh in coldness – especially to her.

"That's funny, saying as your whole job is to be a whore to the High Lord," Devlon spat back. Her shoulders lurched forward and the words – it felt like a dagger to the heart. Like everything she had ever accomplished, everything she was, was truly nothing.

"Go on then," she said quietly. Her eyes didn't fall away from his. If anything she hung onto them tightly, making sure he didn't fall away from her unforgivable stare. "Tell me what you made yourself to be. How good you are now. How much better you are compared to the rest of us. How superior you are, now that nobody else is there to hold you down." At first he was quiet, taking advantage of the silence, but then he rose his chin.

"I'm a commander who is in charge of a pilot program," he responded proudly. "A number of us are trying to figure out how Illyrians can excel in water and can create a community under water. There is research being found that our wings can be used as propellers and that we might, as a species, do better underwater if only we figure out how to breathe."

"We don't even have a legitimate fleet," Selene replied dryly. "Why bother?" His eyes narrowed on her.

. "I'm working with some of the best, honorable Illyrians that are alive so that we can strengthen our warriors on multiple fronts. You know, the type of warriors your husband is trying to murder." For whatever reason, she felt her eyes burn.

"What a waste for you to be here, then. You obviously don't have an interest in my husband's proposal," Selene said, hiding her choke with a mirthless laugh.

"Is that what you call this? A proposal?" Devlon asked. "Tell me, what merit does taking over the world have? How does that benefit the Illyrians?"

"What are you doing here, Devlon?"

"I came here to warn you," Devlon said, his lips tickling her ear. "But clearly I underestimated how much these people have changed you." His eyes lingered at Tobias, who was standing hazardously close to Clythia as they spoke to higher officials. "I've heard about her before too."

"Just because I'm married to the High Lord, it doesn't mean I'm brainwashed by everybody here," Selene argued dryly. "My voice is listened to just as seriously as everybody else's." Devlon scoffed at this.

"I can see that clearly," he replied, eyeing Clythia dangerously. "Especially after I've heard of all the atrocities she's openly committing against her own people." There was no mercy in his eyes – like he could kill her right then and there if only he could get away with it. Selene's lips pursed.

"They're just colleagues," Selene clarified. Devlon's face remained the same, hard and

analyzing as his eyes nailed on Tobias.

"I'm sure they are," Devlon agreed stiffly. "And I'm sure everything is perfect here. I am sure he loves you dearly and gives you everything you will ever need. I'm sure everything is how you always dreamed. All the luxuries, the perfect food, the wonderful balls and no need to ever worry about anything ever again. It's what you always wanted, right?"

"It is what I always wanted, for your information."

"Good."

"Great."

"My opinion is irrelevant anyways."
"I'm glad you noticed."

"Soon, you'll be popping out babies. Don't forget to name one after me."

"That may be a bit difficult saying as I'm pregnant with a girl." He flinched. His eyes widened for just a moment, breaking the defensive expression on his face.

"What?" he asked feebly. She felt a chill go down her back. Once again, she felt her baby weigh on her uncomfortably – the invisible bump feeling obscenely heavy now that her secret has been discovered. And the fact that he had stopped so sharply, his face appearing so stricken, so broken, made her palms sweat. She tried pulling away but whether consciously or unconsciously, Devlon pulled her back. His eyes were searching her eyes frantically, trying to understand without asking.

"I'm only a few months along. Only a handful of people know," she muttered quietly.

"Does Clythia know?" He asked. "Does she know the High Lord's wife is pregnant?" His voice rang back at her demandingly, as if this was another duty that he was desperate to accomplish.

"No," Selene snapped. "It's none of her business. And it's none of your business either, frankly." His eyes shifted and his face tightened. At first he was quiet and the anger collapsed from his face so fast that Selene was nearly unnerved.

"Did they," Devlon said, his voice quieter, "Selene, did he clip you? Is that why you-"

"What did you just say to me?" She spat. The couple nearest to them shifted towards her briefly before quickly going on with their dance farther away. She yanked her hands away from his. Devlon's back straightened further, the militaristic man showing once again.

"Did he fucking clip you?" Devlon said, his voice rougher. He didn't even hesitate when he said the words.

"No, he didn't fucking clip me. I chose this life, Devlon. I have my wings and I still chose to have the life of a royal. You can be an Illyrian and have both," Selene snarled. Devlon didn't argue. Instead, he just stared and stared at her. He wasn't going to tell her otherwise – he wasn't going to tell her how to live her life. It wasn't his job. But he didn't stop himself from looking above him, at the tight ceilings and the large windows that overlooked nothing. She knew he was wondering how a child with wings could ever survive in a castle where ceilings blocked them from soaring into the air.

"I'm happy here, Devlon," Selene said, taking advantage out of the silence. "I love him and I love my friends and I love my people." His face was like stone. She could've sworn he stopped breathing. But she couldn't hold his judgmental gaze any further – she couldn't hold onto the horror in his eyes, she couldn't risk questioning whether her child was safe there.

She turned on her heel, about to walk away, but then he stopped her.

"I don't like him," Devlon said. His voice was crisp, quick. He spoke so fast that she had almost missed it. Selene didn't turn around, but she stopped short.

"He's your High Lord," she hissed. "Since when did you care if you liked the High Lord?"

"I will be on my knees in his name for the rest of my damn life and I am proud of that," Devlon sneered. There was a pause between his words. "But there's something off about him. Something colder. And I'll die before he takes the goodness out of you." This time, she turned around and inched closer to him. Now, he was only a few inches from her, and he touched her hand gently.

"Excuse me?" She blanched.

"Those are my fucking mountains. Not his. And I say what happens there," Devlon hissed. "If you ever change your mind, you run. You come to me and I'll take you away from all of this and he'll never, ever reach you. Because he knows that our wrath is a thousand times worse than what that bitch can do."

"Devlon-"

"Interesting," a voice drawled. "I didn't know Illyrian scum was invited here. Tell me, beautiful, who is this…foot soldier?"

~*~ discidium ~*~

She knew he hadn't heard them speak. He was too far away but, despite the forced smile, there was anger flickering in his eyes. At first she didn't understand why but then she remembered how close Devlon was from her – only a few inches. He backed away when Tobias came into view, but still not enough. He was a foot away from her, his hands stretched behind his back and his body as straight as a line.

"High Lord," Devlon greeted, his voice unusually calm. "My name is Devlon. I come from the Blue-Iced Mountains and am currently a part of a pilot program on the coast." Tobias walked like a feline cat when he grew closer, his hands shoved into his pockets and looking at Devlon with a raised eyebrow. Though Devlon was the same exact height, Tobias loomed powerfully, but it didn't have an effect on Devlon. Devlon wasn't powerful but his intimidation was glowering. Nobody could ever make him feel small.

"Pilot program?" Tobias asked dryly. He then turned to Selene, with a scowl. "Since when did we have a pilot program for Illyrians?" Devlon's face tightened. Selene opened her mouth, about to reply, but then he interrupted her.

"Wait, are you talking about that underwater thing?" Thing. Just another word to talk down to Devlon. "I've heard little about it. Tell me, where are we when it pertains to progress?" Devlon's face drained.

"Well, right now, we've found a good destination to work on and we found how to use our wings to maximize use in the ocean but our breathing techniques need to be-" Tobias interrupted him by swirling the liquid in his cup with magic. He looked oddly intrigued as his fingers swirled on top of his cup.

"So, really, we have made zero progress?" Tobias simplified. He then turned to Selene. "Do you know this man?" Selene sighed.

"Yes, I do," Selene said flatly. "We were…childhood friends." Tobias's eyes rose further at her. She pursed her lips. Though the hair at the back of her neck stood up, her face didn't show otherwise.

"Childhood friends?" He mimicked, his voice holding a tinge of ridicule that made Selene to tighten. He laughed as he spoke. "Illyrians are allowed to have friends? I thought their life goals to be miserable and unhappy." Selene, when she looked at Devlon, realized he hadn't even blinked. He was staring at him coldly, holding onto his mocking gaze.

"My lady is simplifying it," Devlon said. "Her village, as you may know, is used as a check point for high-ranked Illyrians when they travel. I, as a second in command to a war band leader, had spent many summers there between missions." Something flickered in Tobias's eyes and he stopped swirling his cup.

"You're a high-ranked Illyrian?" Tobias asked slowly. "And in line as a war band leader? I'm confused. I thought your occupation was playing in water." His monotone face twitched down.

"Was. I helped train many Illyrian soldiers," Devlon said, and the tenseness in his voice was finally showing. "When our camps overfilled, we would take some of our soldiers to various villages, like Lady Selene's, to train them there temporarily. I did it for many years. But in the end, my skills were stronger elsewhere, allowing me to be promoted to the pilot program on the coast." Tobias eyes stayed on him for a moment, a half smirk taking place on his face. Tobias hadn't even looked at her yet, just stared at Devlon. But she knew what he was thinking.

I was going to wait until some high-ranked Illyrian soldiers came through.

"Years, you say?" Tobias asked, taking another step towards him. "How long had you been doing it? In Selene's village, I mean." Devlon's face didn't even flicker.

"Five summers," Devlon said. "Though the position was given to me by my late father very early in my life. I was training people at the age of fourteen years old. Lady Selene would assist me most summers – teaching them how to make camp in the brutal terrain, showing them the hidden trails around the mountains. What to eat, where to find water. I wouldn't have been able to do it without her."

"You must miss the mountains, then," Tobias said slowly. Devlon gave a firm nod.

"It is my home," he admitted. "But my duty to my court is worth it. This position has changed my life."

"Duty, you say," Tobias said, his smirk widening. "So what do you think about my proposal? Is it dutiful enough for you?" Selene's eyes shot towards Devlon. He wouldn't look at her – wouldn't even glance at her. But the look on her face was desperate.

"I've done research on it," Devlon said, "and it won't work." Selene began to feel smaller and smaller as she saw the smirk on Tobias's face disappeared.

"Research?" Tobias repeated, saying the word like it was garbage. "What do you mean by research?" A man nearby, pretentious looking but obviously of power, turned around to listen as well.

"You want to get one-third of it open in fifteen years, correct?" Devlon asked. "With eighty-percent of the Illyrian population? Well, then they'd have to do it for fifteen hours a day, seven days a week, with the wing speed of fifty flutters a minute." Tobias's face grew colder and colder as Devlon spoke.

"Which, with the assumption that every Illyrian warrior can even flutter at that speed, which most can't, the exhaustion would kill them in a little over a week," Devlon added. "Which means, no, I do not think it will work, my lord." Tobias's jaw tightened. Behind him, the unknown man began to whisper to another man nearby.

"I've talked to many scholars about the mathematics," Tobias said, his voice sharp. "Men who have had decades of education while you have had…well, very little, obviously. Leave the mathematics to men who actually know what they're talking about." Devlon's face grew whiter. Behind Tobias, one of the unknown men shifted uncomfortably. Selene expected Devlon to be quiet – he knew how far his position went, he knew that at this point his ability to object was over. But he kept going.

"With all due respect, your academic scholars aren't Illyrians. They haven't studied the Illyrian anatomy, the average wing ability, observed our work ethic. They haven't timed how fast we can work and at which speed is our limit. It takes fifteen years for an individual to maximize their flight ability and yet, it takes only one bad turn to destroy their wings. Our wings are also heavily associated with body fluids – so what happens, my lord, when it gets too cold for them and they are thousands of feet in the air? Your scholars may have studied the mountain, and maybe even the temperatures at the dead of winter, but they haven't studied us," Devlon finished. Five or six men behind Tobias were staring, whispering to each other frantically. Selene, she realized, had inched closer to Devlon. Tobias's eyes were blazing. She saw, on the cup he was holding, that there was a crack. Devlon, on the other hand, was glowing. He didn't dare smile, but there was victory in his eyes.

"Thank the cauldron," a high-pitched voice drawled. "We wouldn't want your inferiority leaking onto us." Devlon and Selene looked behind them. Clythia broke into the crowd, standing between Selene and Tobias. Devlon's eyes were almost as cold as Tobias's when Clythia made eye contact.

"What did you just say?" Devlon snarled. "Our inferiority?" A couple men chuckled but Selene was no longer paying attention. She had tunnel vision as she glared at Clythia.

"You were invited as a courtesy," Clythia growled. "You should feel honored that we allow you creatures to walk this earth, let alone be in our presence." Selene looked at Tobias but he hadn't so much as moved. He was still staring at Devlon deathly, but if there was one person in the world that his glare wouldn't effect, it was Devlon.

"But then who would win your wars and fight for your survival?" Devlon snarled back. While her smile remained, her nose flared just slightly.

"That's what they said before I wiped out their entire race," Clythia said, showing her sharp teeth. "Now their bodies decorate my castle like trophies. Tell me, would you rather your wings pinned above your high lord's bed or used as his fire wood?" Devlon stiffened and Selene stepped in front of him. Bile rose in her throat, thinking about Devlon's wing being peeled off his body like dead skin. They all eyed them deliciously, as if this was the entertainment that they wanted tonight. To watch an Illyrian's wings to be pulled off and tortured.

"That's enough," Selene spat at her. A crowd was around them now, watching humorously. Though Devlon moved in front of her stubbornly, making sure he grew as close to Clythia as possible, every eye remained on Selene. "His wings will never be touched as long as I am the Lady of the High Lord. You'll have to go through me to get them." Clythia didn't even glance at her.

"Oh, don't worry, Lady Selene, you aren't an Illyrian," Clythia said easily, eyeing Devlon like pure dessert. "You've risen above the disgusting disease that you inherited at your birth and have proven yourself to your High Lord." Selene was so at awe of Clythia's horrifying comments that her lips quivered.

"I am an Illyrian," Selene said, emphasizing each word. "I was born one and I will die as one." She looked over at Tobias but he still hadn't caught her eyes, he was still staring at Devlon. Harsher and harsher, like every word that was being passed wasn't even going into his ears.

"Selene," Tobias said, and she nearly flinched at the tone of his voice. "Escort him out. I don't want him in my home."

~*~ discidium ~*~

The moment the two large double doors slammed behind them, Devlon gave her a look worse than death. Not just of anger – of pain, of betrayal, of cruelty.

"Devlon-" But he kept walking. Past the large columns, past the gigantic windows, and further down the hall to wear the house doors were.

"Don't bother," Devlon said. "She's right, you know. You aren't one of us and your child will never be one of us either." Selene's mouth opened in objection.

"How dare you say that!" Selene hissed. "I am fully an Illyrian. I lived in those villages and I fought to keep my wings intact every day. And my child…my child will have wings and she will fly and she will be great!" And though her words rang, they were half-hearted. Devlon stopped jerkily in front of the house doors, laughing under his breath. He then turned around slowly, meeting her pleading eyes.

"Your child won't ever be one of us. She'll never be accepted," he said coldly. "She'll be just like them. And when your husband wipes us out, and you two are the only ones left, he'll clip your wings without a single hesitation." Her jaw clenched.

"You don't know me or my family," she snapped at him. "You don't know anything." Tears were already falling down her face, warm angry tears, as he put his hand on the doorknob. But he paused. The silence was the worst part – the silence before he said what she knew he'd been wanting to say this entire time.

"You couldn't just wait, could you?" Devlon asked hoarsely. "I came back a week after you disappeared and then they told me…they told me he took you. And all I could think about is how you couldn't even wait another week. Seven days. If I had just came back seven days earlier, you wouldn't have left. You would've been with me, a war lord. But of course, I guess that's nothing compared to him." The tears were dripping all over her.

"I waited for six months, Devlon. Don't blame me."

"I promised you I would come back and get you," Devlon replied, opening the front door for the last time. "And I did. I tried."

~*~ discidium ~*~
"Are you-are you burning that?" Leon's voice rang. Clearly, he had been looking for her thoroughly, saying as she was hiding in an unused room. "That's-that's a horribly expensive dress, Selene! It has diamonds on it. Very high class diamonds." And to be fair, she had been trying to burn it for a good long time before Leon bursted in. The cloth was tucked between two burning logs in the bedroom fireplace as she poked and prodded.

"As you can see, diamonds don't burn," she muttered emotionlessly. To prove her point, she prodded one of the diamonds painfully and nothing happened. She could still see the sparkles visibly.

"I'm glad you're learning new things," Leon said carefully, "but…why aren't you downstairs?" She rose her eyebrows at him as she put the poker down.

"Why weren't you downstairs?" She demanded suddenly. He flinched back. "I thought you were on my side!"

"Your side? Selene, I had a meeting with the heir of the Autumn Court. I couldn't exactly skip out on it over a ball," Leon said defensively. And then he added in a soft voice, "What happened?" And maybe that's when she fell apart, or when the emotions had finally overflown inside her, because just by asking the question, tears began to fall down her face. And not just a few – large, ugly tears as she sobbed and sobbed.

He kneeled down next to her, sitting beside her in front of the burning fire.

"What happened?" He asked softly. "Selene, what happened?" She looked up at him, meeting his concerned eyes.

"Clythia…Clythia made it known to the entire ballroom that I am inferior because of my race," she choked. "And Tobias…he didn't even twitch. He just banished me from the ball as soon as I started to object." Leon's eyebrows furrowed down.

"He didn't care?" Leon whispered. She shrugged tiredly.

"He didn't say a word to her," she whispered. Leon didn't argue but he held her gaze.

"I don't care what race you are, you are not inferior," Leon said with a growl. "And Clythia wouldn't bother exclaiming it unless she was intimidated." Selene let out a shaky breath.

"It doesn't matter. She'll always be here. He cares about that damn mountain more."

"More than he loves you?" Leon asked. She had never thought about it like that. Was the mountain more important than their own marriage? Though tears were falling down her face, her eyes went up to him.

"I-"

"You're back." The words came off sharper than a knife. Both Leon and Selene looked up jerkily. Slowly, Leon got up on his feet.

"Tobias-" He was leaning against the doorway casually, with his tie undone and a tired look on his face. He looked exhausted – too exhausted to get mad or angry.

"I thought you were going to be there for a few more days," Tobias said, eyeing Leon carefully. Leon froze.

"It didn't take long for him to obey my word," Leon said, his voice distant as he eyed Selene. She was still sitting in front of the fire, her knees to her chest.

"I want a report on what happened with the heir. Every single word written and signed," Tobias instructed. "Now." Something shifted on Leon's face when he said that. Not anger, not sadness, but something she couldn't place. Tobias didn't have a stinging glare on his face as he watched Leon go past him, but yet watched him closely as if trying to get every detail of his body. As Leon disappeared, Tobias's head whipped towards her immediately. His eyes were round.

"Did Leon-"

"I don't want to talk to you," she hissed. His lips pressed together firmly.

"We've gone through this before, Selene," he said, in the same exact tone. "You knew what you were getting into when you mar-"

"That I would be called inferior in front of tens of people?" She said, jumping to her feet now. Tobias blinked at her. "That I would be ridiculed and talked down to by a sociopathic maniac?" Tobias shook his head.

"You don't understand," he said coolly. Selene shook her head.

"I don't. I don't understand why your people see me as inferior. I don't understand why having wings and being able to fight makes us weak. I don't understand why you let some bitch walk into your home and ridicule your wife-"

"Oh, she wasn't ridiculing you!" Tobias snapped. "She was ridiculing your friend." Selene's mouth dropped.

"Devlon?" Selene repeated. "Her words applied to more than just him, Tobias." Tobias scuffed at this.

"What?" Selene went on. "Go on, tell me, Tobias. Tell me how he asked for it, how you couldn't help it. How you had no choice but let it go on. How I was the wrong for-"

"You humiliated me," Tobias interrupted coolly. His voice was low and sharp. Selene flinched back. "You humiliated me when you were flirting and flaunting him in front of everybody that mattered. You looked at him like-"

"Like what?" Selene yelled. "Like what?" Tobias's nose was flared.

"Like the sun shined out of his Illyrian ass!" Tobias finished. "You guys weren't friends, Selene, and he didn't dislike me simply because he researched my project. You loved each other, didn't you? A fucking war band leader, of all things. And everybody saw it." She was quiet for a moment, fixated on the glistening in his eyes.

"You would, wouldn't you?" She asked quietly. "You would love to see his wings pinned up above your bed. You would absolutely love it." There was an unusual pause as the words hung in air, too harsh to take back as she looked for the answer in his cold, still face. The longer the pause lengthened, the more she realized that she always wondered what his true feelings of Illyrians were, and how there was suddenly a weight lifted off her chest when she asked the one question that could answer all of her fears. But he was looking at her with same exact look – with both horror and pain. With the anticipation of what would happen next, digesting the words that could never be taken back.

"I am not a monster, Selene," he said, his voice small. And there was so much pain in his voice – deep, ingrained pain that it made a hole burn in the base of Selene's stomach. "Despite your belief, I am not a monster."

"I know," she said, just as soft. "But I can't let someone ridicule me and my child. I can't have someone constantly in my household who has the power to make me feel small." His lips pursed for a moment.

"You want her gone?" He asked. "Is that what you want? Is that what will stop this mess?" Though it took her a moment to admit it, she nodded.

"I do," she said. He nodded sharply.

"Fine, I will. Because I don't want this to ruin us," he said stiffly. "I will stop it." He whipped around, about to leave the doorway, but he stopped.

"Also, I wanted you to know before anybody else got the news," Tobias voice trailed for a moment. "The pilot program was a failure. One of the directors of the program wrote me yesterday that I need to cut ties, and so I did. Devlon will probably get a letter within the next three days." Selene's face tightened.

"Where? Where will he go then?" She demanded. "Tell me." Tobias turned around to face her again, his face just as tight and a blaze of anger flickering in his eyes.

"Where he was before. A war band leader training warriors. I have multiple reports that he was unusually successful at it so I promoted him to the lead war band leader, rather than second in command. It was the best I could do," Tobias told her. When he registered the broken look on her face, the tears beginning to form again, he said coldly, "He will be fine." But as he walked away, leaving the fire light and into the dark hall, she couldn't help but recall what happened yesterday. He was there with her nearly all day, riding and holding meetings from dawn to dusk. She couldn't comprehend when he would have possibly gotten a letter and if so, if he even would've cared enough to read it.

~*~ disicidium ~*~*

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