The First Story

by aspentree11

"I have given you your freedom, Selene, but mark my words - if you betray me, I will kill every man it takes to bring you back." We know the story of Rhysand but what about his mother? What about his father? What about when they were young? What if there was more to them than what meets the eye?

15. Chapter 15

"Welcome to the Court of Nightmares." The buzz, the resting eyes, ended just as fast as it started. As she stared and stared at Jameson, the rest of the court returned to their meal. Kier - whatever leader he claimed to be, was already back in his seat and flirting with the whore again. And whatever kind've entertainment she had shown to be to the rest of the people at the court, was evidently over.

Her fingers were shaking.

"Thanks," she replied through her clenched teeth. Rosalie had inched away from her, as if she knew that this was too personal of a conversation for her to hear. Selene found herself drifting towards Jameson curiously, even following him as he slowly left the head table. She couldn't help but look him over continuously as they walked away from Kier and his people. He looked beautiful, as usual. With a maroon tunic and jet black pants. His eyes were shining brightly, happiness nearly glowing off his face as he led her away. It was as if he had been reincarnated into a whole new person - like all the negative feelings, all the memories that had been slowly killing him, were washed clean. He walked with a new grace that Tobias had never shown. While Tobias's movements were harsh and powerful, Jameson's were swift and feline.

"I heard your husband sent you away," Jameson said, choking back a laugh. Her nose flared. Heat flooded her cheeks.

"He did it for my safety," she snarled. Jameson's shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips as she followed him out of the great hall. She didn't hesitate as she followed him away.

"The last I checked, sending your wife to hell whilst being in the beginning of her pregnancy isn't exactly protective," Jameson muttered, his eyes flickering at her fast. She grimaced.

"What are you doing here?" She spat. "How are you even alive?" She assumed he bled to death. After Jameson stopped responding to Tobias's rage and passed out, Tobias demanded for the sentries to take him away. Sure, Tobias didn't kill him, but she was surprised that Jameson survived the injuries.

"It's good to have friends in the worst of places," Jameson said, walking up a twirling, endless staircase. "Nobody ever thinks about them when hell breaks loose. Nobody remembers them." Them, as in Kier and his beastly court. "You might even start to like them. They aren't all bad - once you earn their respect, at least." She could only imagine what that would be. Killing a newborn child? Selling a teenage girl into a sex trade? Beating a slave to death? She wouldn't be a part of that.

But then the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

"Where are you taking me?" Selene demanded finally, after realizing that he was going to a specific place, not just roaming aimlessly. It was probably stupid, she thought, to have followed his footsteps in the first place. But after making it to the first landing, she realized it was too late to go back.

"Your room, of course," Jameson said silkily. "It would be better for you to be in your room rather than the great hall tonight. You don't want to tempt them." Selene's eyes narrowed.

"Tempt them? Tempt them, how exactly?" Selene asked, but all he did was reply with a chuckle. She tensed.

"Did you know I was coming?" Selene asked. He didn't respond. But then she asked quietly, "How are you even here?" The side of Jameson's lips tugged upward.

"I may or may not have an alias that keeps my identity hidden to everybody outside of the Court of Nightmares," Jameson responded smoothly. "The people here call me Jameson, of course, but Tobias has been told that I'm just…an advisor of sort, named Varun. He didn't even bother to come down and shake my hand." Varun. She hadn't heard Tobias say the name in his meetings. Maybe Jameson was right. The Court of Nightmares was the perfect place to hide because even Tobias could care less about what they do as long as they stayed under the mountain. The people in the Court of Nightmares were a race to be contained, not a race that he wanted to embrace. As long as they were invisible, he could care less.

"Also, just to be on the same lines, Selene, you'll find that these people respect me with a respect that Tobias will never get," Jameson hissed suddenly. She blinked, the tightness on her face unraveling. "When Kier bowed for me, it wasn't because he had to. It was because he wanted to." She couldn't tell if it was a threat or an explanation. Probably both, she decided. But she would not bow to him. Not now, not ever. And she was sure that it was written all over her face.

He stopped and opened a door. Carefully, without her moving another step towards him, she looked inside the room. It wasn't anything compared to the room she had been granted at Tobias's palace. It was small with a twin bed and a dirty window. There was a bed stand but it looked wobbly and there was a crooked dresser next to an open bathroom. She didn't dare look inside it.

"Where will Rosalie sleep?" Selene demanded angrily. "I am a Lady. You need to accoma-"

"You're nobody," Jameson corrected dryly. "And, we weren't informed that Rosalie would be joining you." You're nobody. Though she didn't care now, the words would mock her later. But still, she ignored it. Instead, her eyes lingered on the bed.

So Rosalie would have to sleep on the floor. She wasn't entirely sure if Rosalie could even fit on the floor without being crammed between the door and the bed. Unless, perhaps, Rosalie and her could fit in one bed. Surely, she probably could.

"Spend the rest of your night in your room, Selene. Rest, eat. I'll send someone to bring up some dinner. And when you leave your room tomorrow morning and truly walk into the world of Night, find me." Her eyes narrowed. She didn't want to admit that her mouth had dried up. Or that this place terrified her. Even more, that Jameson terrified her. Tobias underestimated him, the entire Night Court underestimated him.

But when Tobias beckons her back to court, she will remember. She will remember that Jameson took hold of the Court of Nightmares and broke Tobias's wishes. She'll tell her husband of Jameson's crimes and fix this mess. She will not forget.

"I'm not allowed to leave the palace," she replied hotly. His face faltered. She almost saw pity in his eyes. Belittling, unwanted, laughable pity. And she didn't want it.

"So said the man who sent you to the Court of Nightmares and didn't bother to send a single sentry to watch over you," Jameson snapped back. "Don't be afraid to live in Hell, Selene. You'll find that you may have more freedom here than you ever would at Tobias's palace." At Velaris. He didn't have to say the word for her to know what he meant. Obviously, Velaris was a secret even he wouldn't speak about. Not even here.

"Stay here if you wish," Jameson said, shrugging. "But when you need some company, you'll find me far away from this broken prison of a palace." And as she watched him walk around her, as if she was just another woman he would talk to tonight, she found herself holding her breath. This was Jameson's kingdom, not Tobias's. She walked into a trap, enemy's territory. And now all she could do was wait for Tobias to summon her back.

A day in the Night Court was three days in the Court of Nightmares. For whatever reason, nobody informed her of that until she arrived. Nobody told her that with every night that Tobias slept in his bed alone, she would have to sleep three. She would grow far older, have three times the amount of days, before she saw him again. After speaking with a healer who had dropped by her room just before she fell asleep, she was informed that her baby was still on Tobias's time zone. Meaning, she wouldn't be pregnant for six more months. She would be pregnant, at least in the Court of Nightmares, for eighteen more months. If, of course, Tobias didn't come back for her sooner.

But she did this. She was the one who threw her marriage down the toilet. She hadn't supported Tobias like a normal wife would have - instead, she told him he wasn't fit for his own throne. How could he ever believe that she was safe in his home when she wasn't even on his side? She was a hazard, if anything. It was better for her to be put away while he figured out all of the troubling forces in the Night Court.

"The prison life suits you." Though it was only her second day there, and only a little over half a day in the Night Court, she was still in her room. She had given Rosalie permission to roam the property, to at least learn more about the Court of Nightmare's elites. Initially, Rosalie refused but after hours of being stuck in the small room, Rosalie agreed to explore without her. Periodically, she would appear back, giving her bits and pieces of information she had learned. But, in the end, it didn't make a difference. None of the information she brought back was substantial.

But now Jameson was leaning against her door frame, his light eyebrows perched upward. It still unnerved her that he was there - not because he was alive, but because she knew it wasn't against the rules. That he could in fact walk in whenever he liked and not have a single consequence. Even worse, there would be no consequence for her. She was used to rules and obligations and promises. But here, it seemed like none of that mattered. She watched from her window as people buzzed about, hearing voices trail down the hall. None of them cared that Tobias was their High Lord. It was like he didn't even exist in the Court of Nightmares.

"I thought it was the maid bringing me food," Selene said coolly, eyeing the open door. It wasn't a lie – the only person who had bothered knocking on her door since she got here was the maid.

"I decided to drop by," Jameson said, picking at his nails.

"I thought you said if I wanted to find you, you'd be elsewhere," Selene snapped. "You aren't elsewhere." Jameson let out a chuckle, but Selene could see past the smile on his face. There was something else, some other reason beyond being at her door.

"The maid needs to clean," Jameson said to her. "You aren't so self-pitying that you're willing to piss off the maid, are you?" She glared at him.

"I am not self-pitying. This is just a short-term situation. Why bother going about?" Selene replied. Jameson shrugged.

"Eighteen months is a long time to be pregnant by yourself," Jameson's voice lingered, smiling lightly. She couldn't help but stiffen at those words. Eighteen months. She was only a little over two months pregnant, and now it would take her eighteen more months before she would see her child. "You might as well make some damn friends. Rosalie, though…Rosalie has made a lot of friends." She took a step towards him. It was only one step, but she noticed how Jameson's foolish face dropped.

"I'm not here to make friends," Selene replied sharply. "I'm only here to keep his child safe." Her hand went to her slight bump. Jameson eyed it curiously.

"Not to be rude, but nobody cares enough to hurt your child here," Jameson replied with a snort. "Actually, nobody cares about your damn child in general." Her jaw clenched.

"I'm not going to take that chance." But Jameson let out his hand.

"I promise," Jameson drawled, "That I'll keep your unborn child safe, alright? But you can't keep yourself cooped up in here. Or the maid is going to drag you out herself."

"You can roam wherever you wish, you know," Jameson said as he led her out of the palace. "But I must say, you have to be careful." She scuffed at him. She knew, that despite Jameson's eyes lingering away from her, he was watching her every step. He noticed that she walked on her tippy toes, just in case she stepped in blood or pee. She didn't dare go close to any of the muddy, dirty walls. Her eyes stayed in front of her stubbornly, refusing to look at her surroundings. Refusing to see the horror.

"I must be careful but I must leave the palace," Selene said, mocking him. She saw the corner of his lips go upward, a cold smile. "I must not isolate myself, but nobody here wants me. I must-"

"High Whore." She spun towards the voice. That was a new one. She could've sworn that Jameson grew closer to her as she swirled around, her jaw tensing at the voice.

"What did you call me?" Selene growled. Her eyes landed on a woman who was glowering at her. The woman, whose whole body was coated with dirt and whose hair was matted down her back, hissed at her. The rags she wore barely stayed on her, and she smelled like she had been in a dungeon for over a century. Just looking at the peasant woman, Selene was tempted to scuff. Disgusting, too lazy to clean herself up.

"High Whore," the woman said again, this time louder. Selene could only blink. She glanced around quickly to meet the many eyes staring at her – she was so desperate to not look at her surroundings when she first left the palace. She hadn't noticed people had been goggling at her until the woman insulted her.

"I am not High nor am I a whore. I am an Illyrian," Selene corrected. If she wasn't so utterly insulted, she might have even appeared dumbfounded at the insult. "Mated with your High Lord." The woman laughed. A cold, sharp laugh.

"He is not my anything," the woman chuckled coldly. "He is not worthy here."

"Worthy here? He and his ancestors are keeping this place alive. If it weren't for him-" Jameson took her arm jerkily. His eyes weren't merciful when he stared at the woman. The woman's face slackened when her eyes met his glare. Clearly, he meant something here.

"The High Whore has things to do," Jameson said, a small, mocking smile slithering on his face. Selene scowled at him but he pulled her away before she could continue the conversation with the woman. Clearly, Jameson wasn't against his people humiliating her.

"Is that how you're going to allow your people to treat me?" Selene asked sharply. "Is that-" But the look on his face made her silent. He was looking at her tightly, his eyes scanning her face, her body. She pulled him along grudgingly, trying to keep past the ongoing stares.

"She has a point, you know," Jameson muttered under her breath. Her mouth dropped.

"Excuse me, I am not-" But then he stopped. Despite her desire to keep moving, she had no choice but to stop with him. After all, she didn't want to be out here alone.

She followed his eyes.

There was blood everywhere. Fresh, dark red, blood. There was a trail of it leading into a clothing store, as if someone had dragged the body inside without hesitation. It wasn't any worse than the rest of Court – she had stepped over countless bodies, but this was different. She heard murmurs coming from inside the shop, as if someone actually…cared.

Jameson was wide-eyed. His face had flushed and his body grew still.

"Wait here," he said, his eyes not tearing away from the shop. "Just-just wait here." He turned to the opposite way, rushing down the dirty path that had originally brought them to shop. Running far, far away. And leaving her alone.

At first, Selene was still as stone. A shiver ran down her spine as she was realized that she was suddenly defenseless. Nobody was looking at her, but her hands grew clammy and she suddenly felt restless. She couldn't just wait outside, that would be ludicrous. Someone could attack her, or kidnap her, or do something else disgustingly awful.

"Who the fuck are you?" She jumped to her left. The person beside her was looking at her in disgust, eyeing her clean clothes like it was covered with vermin and sneering at her polished body. Selene's nose flared.

"Who am I?" Selene snarled. "I'm…" But then her voice trailed. This person clearly didn't know who she was, but past her facial expression, Selene saw a hint of desperation. Alike to her, the opposite person was rigid and sweat was pouring down the side of her face.

"Is there something wrong?" Selene asked sharply, eyeing the shop. She realized, as she looked closer, that the shops weren't as much shops as they were holes in the mountain. The floors weren't covered with wood or carpet, and the only light came from the dimly-lit hanging lanterns. They were more like caves with furniture.

"I was going to ask you the same," the woman hissed. "What happened?" But Selene could tell that the woman already had a guess. Curiously, Selene tilted her head towards the door as if to motion her with her and they entered the chaotic opening.

She supposed it could've been a small pharmacy. There was a long table, with knives and clamps. As she walked further in, she analyzed the shelves filled with dirty vials of different plants and minerals. She was familiar with almost all of them – but many, she knew, weren't responsive to health issues.

"What's going on?" Selene finally said as she stumbled towards a crowd of people, seven or eight. They were all circled around in a huddle. "What-" It was a girl. A little older than her, but not old enough to be on the ground, dying. Her eyes were closed but sweat was pouring down her body and her entire body was trembling. Selene instantly noted that her skin was dangerously jaundice and a pale liquid was oozing out of her closed eyes and dark blood was spilling out of her nose. She knew what it was.

"Phallik Fever," Selene said aloud. Instantly, everybody's body swung towards her. Their eyes collectively, as they analyzed her clean, elite self, filled with distaste. One of the women, a woman with brown skin and greasy hair, who was closest to the ill individual, stood up.

"Get out of my shop," she said, her voice sharp as a dagger. Selene nearly shuddered. "Your kind isn't welcomed here." Though the woman's eyes were glossy, there wasn't a single tremor in the woman's words. She was tough, brutal, and Selene knew that the woman wasn't going to be tolerant of her unwelcomed arrival. But Selene's eyes looked down at the girl, scrolling across her body carefully.

"She's close to death," Selene said, almost to herself. Suddenly, she was on her knees, shoving past the people crowding her and inches away from the girl. "I've seen this before. Give me a strand of red lace root!" Nobody said anything. Nobody even moved. But her eyes found the woman who had snarled at her. Her face was tight, unyielding. There was nothing in her eyes, nothing, that reflected any trust.

"What do you think you are? A healer?" The words came out harsh, but Selene was familiar with that tone. It was a tone of desperation, fear that they were about to lose everything that mattered. Anger and defense in the response to terror. So she moved around them swiftly, motioning for them to give her the red lace root. Though nothing showed on her face, she was surprised to find it in her hand without hesitation.

"Cauldron, she's had it for a while," Selene hissed under her breath as she ripped the root with her fingers. "I've never seen a case this bad." Nobody spoke as she, with her thumb nail, squeezed the little juice that the root had in her palm. She spat in her hand quickly, rubbing the juice with her saliva. There were murmurs behind her.

"The peppermint?" She demanded, her other hand out. There was a slight delay, causing her to let out a growl, but somebody put the peppermint in her hand. She layered the juice on the peppermint and then pounded it together in her fist.

"Turn her over," she demanded. A few gruff hands went around her and pulled the women on her side. Selene released a breath.

"Someone keep her mouth closed," Selene instructed. Murmurs erupted again but someone clamped her lips. Selene then put the ripped peppermint in her nose. The girl jerked but her eyes didn't open. The hand covering her mouth started to fall away but Selene snapped for them to hold the hand there.

"Give it a moment," she demanded. As the seconds lengthened, people began to fidget, but then the girl jerked. She twitched twice before her eyes opened suddenly. The hand covering her mouth let go in perfect time, watching as the girl let her stomach go several times on the dirty ground. At first, it was just acidic liquid, but then dark black liquid began to choke out. Only a mouthful, thankfully. And like magic, the girls face went from yellow to colorful, and her body stiffened.

There was a moment where Selene let herself catch her breath. But when she finally broke her attention from the girl, her jaw was clenched and her face was rippled with pure disgust.

"I had never seen a case that bad," Selene said aloud. "You all are lucky that it was only a mouthful. Any more than this treatment would have killed her anyways. What is wrong with you people? You had the ingredients with you. Why didn't you use it?" When she looked up, and she saw how round everybody's eyes were, she knew their answer.

"We don't have a healer. We aren't allowed to. A High Lord hasn't sent a healer down here in over three centuries," the shop owner said quietly. "We just…we just have books. Recipes that other healers have left behind. But we don't know how to actually do this." Selene's face slackened.

"We've never seen anyone stop someone from dying from Phellik Fever," a woman, the grouchy one, added. "It's a plague, down here. It spreads like wild-fire. Usually, people only have a week to live." Selene opened her mouth and the closed it tightly.

"We didn't know you used peppermint," another person added, almost to themselves. "We always thought it was rosemary. But you knew." And she understood it now. She understood their coldness, their brutality. Phellik Fever was an easily curable disease, but if they walked around every moment of every day, terrified that they would die just by walking outside, how could they ever be happy? How could they spare the ability to care for others? They barely had the ability to take care of themselves.

"Do you know how to cure anything?" Selene breathed. None of them responded. They wouldn't admit how deprived they were. They would never admit how inferior they were to the rest of the world.

"My name is Maddox. I have seven more patients with Phellik Fever who are close to death in the backroom," the shop owner said. "And another with pence pox and another with dragon's tale. Can you cure them too?" And though the woman's face was severe and cold, and her question sounded more like a demand than a plea, Selene found herself nodding.

"Show me the way."

~*~ discidum ~*~

"You've got be fucking kidding me." It was past midnight and she had finally found the entrance to Keir's bedroom. They lived in the same palace, after all, just in separate wings. But after spending nearly the entire day hovering around half-alive citizens, faeries who might as well have been corpses, did she have a burning fire blazing inside of her. She would kill him, she would kill him with her bare hands.

If it weren't for that his fiancée answered the door.

She was young, almost as young and her, with pale blonde hair and a mousy face. She was so, so small, but not in the way that Selene was. Selene still had muscle, meat on her body. This woman looked like she hadn't ate in weeks.

"Lady Selene," the woman whispered in response, her eyes bulging a bit. Selene's nose flared as her eyes narrowed on the woman.

"I need medicine," Selene demanded. "And don't tell me you don't have it – I know you and Keir have been stocking it. How can you even live with yourselves? It's absolutely disgusting." Confusion washed over the opposite woman's face.

"Medicine," the woman repeated, as if it was a word that had never been spoken. "We've never had medicine here. We've never-" And then a cold sliver pressed against Selene's throat. Selene tripped back, tumbling against a towering figure behind her. She yelped, stepping on the figures toes, but then she felt a tight pair of hands steady her up. The coldness of the figures hands made her flinch. But the cold sliver against her throat, a knife, made her catch her breath.

"Lady Selene," a familiar voice growled, "I gave you your own wing for a reason." Keir. His fiancée, who was still facing her, cowered closer into the room. She looked terrified. But Selene straightened. Her teeth barred.

"You would cut my throat, Keir? Don't forget who I am. My husband-"

"I don't see your husband down here, Lady Selene. I would have months, in the very least, to create an elaborate story on how you killed yourself," Keir hissed in her ear. "Or maybe I'll tell him the truth about your gluttony and he won't blame me at all." She swallowed. Tobias would never want her dead, he'd kill every last soul in this place if she didn't leave the Court of Nightmares alive, but Keir was correct on the fact that Tobias wouldn't want her going around him.

"I'll take that as a no," Keir chuckled. He dropped the knife from her throat and she whirled around quickly.

"Those people are dying," Selene said, her voice barely a whisper. "And you still laugh?" Keir shook his head with a smile.

"My people have been dying this rapidly since the first High Lord left the Court of Nightmares," Keir hissed back. "We can't just sit around and mope forever, can we?" Her lips pursed together tightly, glowering at him.

"You saved those people?" Keir asked, savoring the silence. Clearly, he had already heard what she had done. "You walked into that shop and intervened." He said it like was a crime. Like helping his people, saving them, was a violation of law. As if Selene had done a bad thing.

"They were-"

"Don't mistake our hospitality as an opportunity to reign," Keir said, his voice thin. Selene gaped.

"Would you have rather me not save my people?" Selene blabbered. The anger that had boiling underneath Keir's tone flashed across his face.

"Your people?" Keir mimicked, louder now. "Your people? Audacious, you are. Tell me, when is the last time your beloved husband stepped foot under the mountain? When did he suddenly have an interest in the health of the Court of Nightmares?" She blinked at him.

"This is his land," Selene replied. "His rule, his law, his people. They-" Suddenly, he struck her with the back of his hand. She stumbled back against the doorframe, inhaling raggedly. Her hand flew to her face protectively as she looked up at Keir in horror.

"You are not his proxy," Keir said, before she could speak. "You are nothing but the High Lord's new breeder and I will not tolerate disobedience. If he wants something from me, he will come down here and demand it. In the meantime, I will not answer to his child-bride." She had to fight for the tears not to form. She hadn't been hit like that since...since she lived in her village. She wanted to rush to Tobias, to tell of Keir's crimes, to burn this entire place to the ground.

But she knew that Tobias would only bestow fury, and it would only distract him from other issues that he needed to fix. He sent her down here so that she would be invisible, not to cause other issues.

"I'm…" Selene nearly flinched at the word. "My apologies. I should have asked for permission. I have the skills to help, and I would want to. Under your permission, of course." Keir's eyes narrowed on her for a moment, the anger on his face slowly dissolving. He hadn't expected her apology, nor wanted for her to ask permission to help. She could tell that he expected her to walk away, not play his games.

"We have laws," Keir replied. Selene nodded. Her mouth felt like lead.

"And I'm willing to obey," Selene agreed. "If you allow me to help them. I will do so under strict guideline, never surpassing your word." Because these people were dying, and she wouldn't let Keir's manhood be the reason that these people died.

"Please," she heard herself say. Though she was earnest, she felt like she was speaking to a brick wall. "Let me help. Wouldn't it be better for you to use my skills, rather than let me waste away in this palace?" Finally, Keir blinked. He was considering it. Despite the fact that she, an outsider, had crossed the line, he was still considering it.

"I can't have one of your kind running around, pretending to be a healer," Keir gruffed, eyeing her tucked in wings. "People will riot." She shook her head.

"An assistant," Selene clarified, ignoring his comment. "Assign me to Maddox. She knows more than she thinks. We'll open a small clinic in her shop." He was quiet for a moment. His eyes ran down her again, noting every detail; from the dirt from her boots to the threads sticking out of the seams of her dress.

"Fine," he said finally. She felt a relief fill her body. "You start tomorrow. But, there is a catch." His dull face held a smirk. Her body slumped forward.

"And what," she said slowly, "would that be?" His smirk widened.

"A favor, Lady Selene," Keir said. "I'm not telling you what, nor telling you when, but one day I'll ask something from you…and because I am helping you now, you will help me then."

~*~ discidium ~*~

Six days. It had been six days in the Night Court, and eighteen days in the Court of Nightmares, since she had mailed her fourth letter. Asking, begging, for Tobias to send medicine. It wasn't that difficult – he could probably find everything she needed in the garden behind their estate. There were some herbs that she asked for that he could only find in the Illyrian mountains, but she said those weren't entirely needed. All she needed was the basic herbs and weeds. Everything else, she could make. Of course, she never told him why she would need such things.

The Illyrian mountains were scarce. Despite the climate differences, they didn't have much more herbs than the Court of Nightmares did. The Court of Nightmares had found a way to create some of their own herbs, but she found that she was looking for substitutes for the same exact herbs as she was in the mountains. Most high-end healers would've scoffed at her for settling for substitutes. Of course, none of her substitutes would work perfectly. They still caused side-effects and didn't always cure things properly. But she knew that there were minerals in rocks that when mixed with strong liquids, can make anything. She knew that there were specific body parts in animals that could help someone tremendously. She was no healer, but she knew how to survive.

Behind her, she heard a pair of boots approach her, scuffing against the hard clay.

"I'm almost done with a mixture. It should help Ria's pregnancy," Selene projected. "If it works, I'll show you how to make it." And then the person let out a low laugh. Quickly, Selene spun around, meeting eyes and her face slowly darkening.

"Oh, Jameson, it's you," Selene muttered. "I thought it was Maddox." Jameson's eyebrows rose up.

"Nice shop," Jameson said, ignoring the distaste in her tone. "I see you've finally blended into our culture." Her lips pursed.

"If that's what you want to believe, Jameson, then sure," Selene replied dryly. She turned back around, grinding a small bone into a lump of soaked petals. She felt Jameson grow closer to her.

"Most healers would've walked away once they found out how many ingredients they lacked. They would've thought they were a lost cause," Jameson's voice lingered. "It seems like you actually care." Selene rolled her eyes.

"I'm not a healer, and I don't care. I'm doing this because Keir and I made a deal," Selene said shortly. "Anyways, it passes the time." On the contrary, it didn't pass the time at all. She still awoke multiple times in the night, hoping that this was all a dream. She still, whenever she heard loud footsteps loom behind her, hoped it was Tobias finally coming to bring her back. She still went to the mail post multiple times a day, awaiting a letter that was yet to arrive. She thought of Tobias at least a hundred times a day, thinking about him with every passing moment. The time wasn't going any faster, she just had something to do while waiting.

"I think they're even starting to like you," Jameson added. Selene let out a mirthless snort. They still called her High Whore. Some even still spat at her when she walked by. Maddox was yet to speak to her in a friendly tone and nobody, not a soul, has thanked her for her deeds.

"What do you need, Jameson?" Selene snapped.

"Just had to see it with my own eyes," Jameson breathed. "What kind of cases have you been dealing with?" Selene's face tightened. She probably shouldn't tell him, she didn't like to gossip, but because he asked nicely…

"So far, this morning? Four pregnancies that are high-risk for miscarriages, two cases of the black perth, and four infected wounds," Selene responded. His eyebrows rose slightly, as if he was actually mildly interested.

"You actually know how to do…this stuff?" Jameson asked. He didn't mean it as an insult, he truly sounded impressed. "Did Tobias know that you knew how to do it?" She swallowed.

"I assume so," she responded, her voice emotionless. "He knew I was into herbs and remedies. I'm not sure if he knew to what extent, though. It wasn't ever relevant." Jameson gave a low snort.

"Or maybe you just didn't want him to know," Jameson responded. "Us Illyrians…we wouldn't want to give anyone the hint that we're low-borne." But she had never pretended she wasn't low-borne. It wasn't something she was proud of, nor something that she paraded. But it was never a secret.

"Don't you have a job to attend to?" Selene asked coolly. "Like, an actual job?" She knew he was popular, but what role did he actually play?

"Yes, I do, actually," he replied surly. "And, if you're truly curious, you can meet my…co-workers." She blinked at him.

"They don't seem to like me that much," she replied. "I'm not sure if you'd really get anything out of it." He leaned closer to her, his body groaning against the crooked table where all her medical supplies were. She was tempted to yell at him to go away, but he was inches from her. Their hands were nearly touching.

"Rosalie eats with us," he said. He smelled like grass. Green, lively grass. He must have his own way of leaving this hell hole. She tried to push down the feeling of envy in her stomach.

"Rosalie can roam where she wishes," Selene said, avoiding his gaze. In the corner of her eye, she saw him give her a smirk.

"And you can't?" He asked. She was quiet. "Look, what do you have to lose? Despite the rumors, none of us bite. The food is actually pretty decent, if I say so myself. Maddox's sister is in charge of the Great Hall food. And you don't even need to leave the palace." She looked up at him finally. His eyes were holding onto hers pleadingly.

"Why do you want me to go so bad?" She asked, her voice quiet. "You know I don't want to."
"Because I like you, Selene," he replied bluntly – too bluntly. "Because I think, deep down, you like this place too, even if you won't admit it. I think my co-workers will like you, despite their distaste for everything that is above the mountain. And I think you owe that baby some happiness, whether you think you deserve it or not." She glanced down. The bump hadn't grown any bigger, but she felt the weight of her baby inside of her. Though it didn't show, she felt the baby there more and more each day.

She looked up at Jameson, holding his gaze in distaste.

"If I have time," she said. "Maddox is running me ragged. I have a lot to do before I go to sleep."

~*~ discidium ~*~

Only an hour later, Maddox had reached her point of patience.

"Go home," Maddox said. Her face was sharp, but she didn't seem unusually angry. "This place is starting to smell." Not of odor, Selene wanted to say. Of her.

"I'm pretty sure me being the High Lord's wife doesn't make-"

"Be back tomorrow at eight o'clock, sharp," Maddox continued, as if Selene hadn't spoken at all. "And tell that other whore to get away from my son." Selene's eyebrows rose upward. Clearly, she was speaking of Rosalie. To be fair, Selene had only seen her a handful of times since she started working here, and usually their conversations only lasted a few words. Rosalie hadn't even been spending the night in her room. She was constantly elsewhere, and Selene was too nervous to ask.

"I have fifteen more patients left to be seen, Maddox," Selene insisted. "Please, let me-" Maddox's eyes narrowed on her.

"Go," Maddox insisted. This time, it was a demand. "Before I replace you with someone more competent." Selene was tempted to tell her that nobody else was more competent than her – not even Maddox. Even though the mountain was still a dump, people seemed…livelier. She noticed that people conversed more with one another, and she almost saw someone smile on her way into the shop that morning. It was different, like she was truly impacting their city.

But Selene left without another word. The walk back wasn't long, but as she stepped around filthy puddles and homeless fae that littered the street, she kept herself alert. Any of these people, any one of them, could jump her and kill her at any time and nobody would try to save her. Tobias had told her she would not need an escort, but she also wasn't supposed to leave the castle at all. She didn't want to get used to her stay here – she wanted to continue being disgusted by the city, to resent and pity their lifestyle. But even after two weeks, she couldn't help but feel like it was her job to help them. They were no different than her.

When she made it to her room, her bedroom door was opened wide. She stopped suddenly, her heart beat thumping loudly in her ear as she stopped in her tracks. Her bedroom was never left open. But when she looked side to side, and listened to the silence, she stepped inside the bedroom timidly.

Everything was still the same – Nobody was lingering in her room and nothing appeared to be touched or tampered with. Since the first day, she decided to keep the room as clean as possible, so that if someone came into her room and went through her stuff, she would notice. But nothing was out of place. It was still clean.

Except there was a dress. A…beautiful dress, laying flat on her bed. It was a crimson red, cut from ragged cloth. Though the cloth was of poor quality, the cut was exquisite. It was perfectly seamed, and the angles of the dress were defined and well-shaped. On top was a note.

We'll be in the Great Halll.

Jameson. Jameson had left the dress. She glanced out the window, looking at the darkening city. Though they didn't have the sun, the city would dim its lights during the night just so that they could have a good time schedule. She knew, just by how dim the lights were, that it was time for dinner. Surely, she should just wait for the maid to come by and drop off her plate, but the dress…

It had been so long since she made something beautiful out of something ugly. She didn't have beautiful cloth in her village, but she knew how to make a beautiful dress. She knew what good, careful sewing, cutting, and shaping looked like, and this dress was magnificent. It must have taken hours, maybe full days, to make such a careful, flawless dress.

She wouldn't let it go to waste. Without thinking about it, she stripped down, swapping her stained clothes for the new dress. It slipped on her perfectly, fitting her slim body as if it was specifically made for her.

When she made it the Great Hall, nobody looked at her. She went straight to the head table. To her surprise, there was a spot waiting right next to Jameson. Everybody at the head table looked up at her, some in delight and others in anger.

"What is she doing here?" Keir sneered at Jameson. "I didn't-"

"You'll be fine," Jameson hissed at him. Jameson smiled at her, a genuine smile. "Please, sit next to me." And so she did. Though most people weren't staring at her, she could feel that she had their attention. They were watching her, even if they didn't show it.

"These are all my comrades," Jameson said, motioning to the others at the table. "Ignore their angry faces. I told them you were coming." Selene swallowed. They didn't look happy – most looked angry. But her eyes landed on the lady next to Keir – his fiancée. She looked like someone had drained her of her life. Like she was lifeless.

"It's nice to see you again," Selene said, smiling. His fiancée mustered a smile, but she knew it was forced. Selene looked down at her plate, which was full with food, and went straight for the wine. She couldn't help but continue to glance at her. How could a woman be so lifeless? What did Keir do to her?

"Annemarie," A voice beside her said. Selene turned to her opposite side, meeting eyes with the woman next to her. She seemed much livelier than Keir's fiancée. It nearly took her by surprise.

"Selene," she replied. "Thank you for letting me eat with you." Annemarie's eyes followed Selene's gaze towards Keir's fiancée. She let out a small laugh. Selene, on the other hand, put the wine to her lips in an attempt to escape conversation.

"He gets her during the day," Annemarie said, as if it explained Selene's worry, "But I get her at night." Selene coughed on her wine. Annemarie giggled.

"It's different here, you know," Annemarie continued. Her eyes didn't quite meet her smile as she leaned back in her chair. "We're stuck with one another. We're not allowed to leave. Which means there are no secrets. Everyone knows everything, they just don't say it." Selene put the wine down. In the corner of her eye, Jameson leaned closer. Every hair on her body stood up.

"Is that a threat?" Selene asked quietly. Humor filled Annemarie's eyes as she let out a carefree chuckle.

"No, a relief," Annemarie replied. "People are either going to judge you or they won't. There's no reason trying to dwell on things you can't change. As long as you're quiet about it, nobody will hold it over you." Selene blinked. Her muscles relaxed. She had never thought about it that way. Silence was their savior. Silence was what protected them. They could do whatever they wish, but only silently.

"Except for you," Jameson muttered coolly, eyeing Annemarie. "You have no filter." She avoided his gaze.

"I'm a seer," Annemarie continued. "It's my job. That's my position at this court." Selene's lips twitched down.

"How delightful," Selene responded, and she couldn't hide the annoyance in her voice. Seers would walk into her village all the time, lying to commoners to drain them of their money. Seers were scams, fakes.

"You don't believe me," Annemarie said, a small smile on her face. Selene reflected her smile.

"I believe in free will," Selene replied with a shrug. Annemarie's smile lengthened.

"I have dreams about all these people," Annemarie argued. "Every person that walks in and out of this place. Even you." Selene's smile dropped instantly.

"Oh, do you?" Selene asked. Annemarie nodded. Selene scoffed.

"And what did you dreams say?" She asked. Annemarie straightened.

"Maybe this isn't the time-" James tried interrupting, but Annemarie stopped him.

"Most people have to prepare themselves," Annemarie argued. "But if you really want to know…" Selene's eyebrows rose.

"Your child is a boy," she said simply. Selene smiled.

"On the contrary, multiple healers have said-"

"I saw your son being touched and grasped and fucked by a redheaded lover who didn't look far from her," she went on silkily. "I see someone with her blood moaning and weeping of lust as your son does every single thing she wishes. I see him being her slave, her item of power." Selene's mouth dried up. She was lying, she was definitely lying. But just the idea that something like that would ever happen to someone…and what was she talking about when she said her? It was nonsense, absolutely nonsense.

"How ridiculous," Selene muttered. "Even if I did have a son, no heir to the Night Court would put himself in such a pathetic position." But Annemarie's face didn't phase.

"She's sharing your husband's bed," Annemarie said quietly. Selene saw pure terror in her eyes as she spoke. Desperate, as if she had planned this conversation this entire time. "Why is the woman who shares your son's enemy's blood, fucking your husband? When I saw it, the skies moved. When I saw it, I felt something that was wrong, something shift. Tell me so we can protect our-"

"That's enough," Jameson growled at Annemarie. "There's a time and place for things, Annemarie." Annemarie's face drained and she gave a curt, apologetic nod.

"Oy, ten men in her world were executed today," A man interrupted, speaking of Selene. "Can you tell me why, ole' seer?" He was across from her. Jameson, next to her, sighed. Selene's eyebrows went up as she met eyes with the man. He was beefy – big for someone who lived under the mountain.

"Hold your tongue," Jameson said. "No politics at the table, Rosseur. You know better than that." Rosseur, to her surprise, turned pink. Though his eyes were still cool as they landed on Selene again, he nodded lightly.

"Excuse my tongue, girl, it's hard to not be tempted by a new girl at the table," Rosseur said, winking. Selene's face tightened and her back straightened. He said it as if she was a commoner, not the wife of a High Lord.

"You think you'll dig my secrets out of me simply because I have a vagina, Rosseur?" Selene asked. She felt Jameson let out a breath of relief next to her. Rosseur laughed – actually let out a real laugh.

"It was worth a shot," A man next to him said. Though his eyes looked down at her in dismay, there was a hint of acceptance. "And you seem innocent enough." Selene let out a small laugh.

"How old do I look?" Selene asked. "You people think I'm as young as a child." A smirk grew on his face.

"Twelve," he replied. The beefy man next to her chortled.

"Fourteen," Rosseur guessed. Annemarie shot them both warningly looks.

"Sixteen, easily," Annemarie corrected. She said it as if she was trying to complement her.

"Eighteen," Jameson said. "Tobias wouldn't go so low as to fuck a child." Though the others laughed, Selene looked at him. Thank you, she wanted to say, and he gave her a slight nod that nobody else noticed.

"Why not? I heard marrying off children was the new norm, up there," Rosseur replied. He looked back at her. "Anyways, she seems to be interested in our way of life." His looked down at her carefully. Nobody said a word, nobody did a single thing. Except Jameson.

He put his hand on her leg. Not in protection.

"Go look for something that's not already taken," Jameson said, a cruel smirk on his lips. Selene blushed heavily. She wanted to inch away, but she knew what Jameson was doing. It was all a scheme to protect her from turning into someone's whore. Because these men could ask for anything, and she couldn't stop them from getting it.

The men's smiles immediately dropped.

"Keep her close," Keir muttered. "You wouldn't want her going astray." Jameson's jaw clenched.

"If she goes astray, you'll be the first person I'll go to, Keir," Jameson replied, his voice smooth, but everybody could hear the threats behind his words.

"We aren't going to pay her," Keir replied. His voice was serious. "We know how you believe in…equality with inferior creatures. But the Hewn City does not make exceptions. You do know that, Jameson?" Jameson didn't so much as breathe.

"I didn't ask you to," Jameson said, not skipping a beat. "She's here at leisure." At leisure? That was far from true. Surely, everybody knew that she was pregnant. That wasn't a lie. But at leisure? They must know nothing then. Nothing of the war that was brewing, not that Tobias sent her down for her safety.

Everybody eyebrow's elevated.

"You're either brave or dumb," Rosseur said. "I wonder which." Though his words were soft, casual, there was a severity behind his words. As if he, and everyone else in the court, would work to figure it out.

"As you waste your time trying to figure it out, she'll continue dressing your wounds and saving your lives," Jameson said dryly. "You all should be thanking me. I brought you a savior." Nobody replied at first.

"We didn't ask for one," Keir hissed. But that was the end of it – Jameson had popularity here. When he spoke, people turned their heads. Keir may be the king, but he was not in charge. At least not when Jameson was here.

"And that is enough for tonight," Jameson said loudly, putting his cup down loudly. Keir flinched. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow." Keir's face drained.

"Jameson, a circle meeting is far from nece-"

"Come on, Selene," Jameson said, smiling at her. "You look exhausted. Let me walk you back." Unsure what to do, Selene got up and followed him out of the Court of Nightmares. She was silent throughout most of the walk, relishing in Jameson's silence. He didn't speak until he was at her door.

"You did well," Jameson said. "Better than I expected, at least." Her eyebrows knitted down. He was trying to be humorous, but she could only feel offended.

"They didn't like me in the least," Selene argued shrilly. "If you had left me there by myself, I'd probably be dead already." Jameson let out a cold laugh.

"Oh, you'd be far worse than that," Jameson said. Her nose flared. "But…now they know that you aren't weak. That you aren't his pretty little pet. They are probably now wondering why you are here. Now, they're curious." Selene flinched back. An electricity went through her so fast that she nearly tripped over herself.

"That's horrible," Selene breathed. "I don't want them snooping around-"

"Come back tomorrow," Jameson said, drifting away. "I'll have another dress – a new one for you to wear. I have a feeling that they might one day like you." One day. And as he disappeared into the darkness, she shook her head in dismay. She would certainly never go back to that dining hall again. They were barbarians – horrible, horrible people. Especially that seer.

But she would. She would go back the following night, and the night after that. Despite their hatred, and her resentment, she would eat with them for however long it took for Tobias to bring her back. After all, it was better than eating alone.

~*~ discidium ~*~

"Sorry, no letter today," the carrier grumbled. It took her nearly a week to find the man. He made it a game to avoid her, not unlike most of the city. At this point, she was wondering if the whole city was in on making her life harder.

"Come on, Felix, we need the gillyweed," Selene hissed. "Ten new fae came into Maddox's shop with infected wounds. Hand me the package." The carrier, whose face already had a web of lines from his grumpy facial expressions, fumed.

"Whores," he muttered, not before turning around and walking away from her. She growled, but there was no point following him. She had written to Tobias that he needed to send the gillyweed directly to her, not through carriers or messengers. The package must have gotten lost on the way to the Hewn City. All of her packages must have gotten lost.

She was dying to go back to the clinic – there were nearly twenty people waiting in line. Most of them layered in injuries from unknown causes. But right when she opened the door this morning, Maddox kicked her out. They had a scene right in front of the clinic, arguing on how it was unproductive to kick out their only healer. Obviously, Maddox didn't take that well.

So she went to go find Rosalie. To be fair, she hadn't seen her in weeks. Rosalie kept saying she was busy, busy with her new life. Apparently, she was a seamstress now. It was hard to believe, but it was true. Selene tried making it a priority to teach Rosalie how to sew professionally so the people of the Hewn City wouldn't chastise her, but apparently Rosalie already had a mentor.

Selene no longer looked around when she walked through the dirty, dark streets. She wasn't fazed by the skeleton-like bodies and the body feces that filled the passageways. She was no longer afraid of the people. Although, they still didn't like her much. But when she made it to the door of the seamstress shop that Rosalie supposedly worked in, Selene hesitated. What if Rosalie had been ignoring her on purpose? She never came by the apartment, and she rarely ate at the Great Hall.

"I'm looking for Rosalie," she said, when she met eyes with the man blocking the doorway. He was a gangster, no doubt. Most shops had gangsters guarding the more expensive shops, just to prevent looting and fights. Though Selene wasn't entirely convinced that it helped.

"And you are?" He asked back. Her eyes narrowed.

"Samuel, I fixed your arm a week ago," Selene said dryly. "You know exactly who I am." He frowned, but then stepped away from the doorway.

"Fine," he muttered. "Go ahead." She rushed around him before he could change his mind and immediately headed for the stairs. The bottom floor was all clothes – some good, most bad. But, she wasn't in the position to judge. After all, she was only a healer.

It was quiet when she finally made it to the top, but when she met eyes with the couple on the top floor, she jumped. Rosalie was certainly there.

"Rosalie!" Selene gasped. There were only two people there – Rosalie and a man Selene was quite familiar with. Lord Duke. Selene jumped from Rosalie, who was fully naked, and Lord Duke, whose pants were off and eyes were wide. Selene's mouth was to the floor.

"You have a seamstress job and you're still doing this?" Selene growled. Lord Duke, though normally rude to Selene, looked desperate as he put his clothes on. Selene glared at him as he went around her swiftly, not meeting eyes. But as soon as he was out of her sight, her eyes narrowed on Rosalie. She didn't even bother to put on her clothes.

"I am absolutely-I am absolutely astonished by your…your…" But Rosalie didn't look like she cared in the littlest. Instead, she rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Oh, please," Rosalie drawled. She leaned against one of the windowpanes, picking at her ragged nails. "Spare me the judgement." Selene sputtered.

"Do you have feelings for this man? Rosalie, you are a lesbian!" Selene's voice rose. Rosalie rolled her eyes.

"I've been surrounded by men who have raped me and used me and torn me to pieces my entire life," Rosalie said quietly. "Once I met him, I found that it wasn't that I was a lesbian. It was that I hated men. But not him. I don't hate him."

"He's a married man," Selene snarled back. "A married lord." The word didn't even make Rosalie flicker. Instead, she continued to pick at her finger nails in a bored manner.

"Who cares?" Rosalie replied. Selene shook her head.

"Who cares? How about every person in this court," Selene said fast. "These people will lynch you the moment he gets bored of you. Don't you want to be accepted here?" Rosalie looked up sharply.

"Oh please, you're the one who was always pushing me to fuck men for power," Rosalie replied harshly. "Or are you now suddenly remorseful for the brutality you put me through?" She straightened suddenly, blinking. It took every nerve in her not to flinch at the words.

"Brutality?! We made a deal!" Selene shrilled. "It was for survival. We don't need to survive like that here." Rosalie gave her a cold smirk.

"No, you don't need to survive like that here," Rosalie shot back. "You're flourishing here, aren't you? You finally found your people. Fuck Leon, fuck Tobias-"

"Don't you dare talk about your High Lord like that!"

"You think you're so much better than me, but you are no better," Rosalie continued. "Go on. Go play hero to these people. Don't forget though, that when Tobias drags you back to his court and your visit here is over, you will be nothing. The only thing you'll be is his permissive, little wife." Selene's jaw clenched. She could feel the back of her eyes burning, but her fists balled together tightly.

"And who will you be?" Selene said lowly. Rosalie's face, for just a moment, broke. "Who will you be when Tobias drags you back to his court?" Rosalie snorted.

"He won't drag me back." And she was right. He wouldn't - not unless Selene wanted him to. He could care less about the red-headed whore, and it was only Selene who fought for her survival.

"You seem to be the one in hot water, Selene. Does he even know what you've done?" Rosalie asked, a smirk on her face. Selene wanted to wipe it off with one hand. "Does he know that you built your own family? Created your own little healing shop? Made friends?" Selene's mouth dried up. They were certainly not her friends – not even in the littlest. But Rosalie's eyes were shining.

"What will your precious husband do when you finds out you've made a home here? With his enemies?" Rosalie said with a giggle. Beads of sweat started to form on her hands. "You think he'll want you back? Or your son?" Selene's face burned.

"I'm having a daughter," she replied coolly. "Don't come to me when you realized you fucked up." She turned towards the stairs but Rosalie wasn't done yet.

"I hope the General gets you. I heard the General is coming, and you'll be punished." Selene, confused and tired of the argument, left without another word.

~*~ discidium ~*~

"What's your name?" He came to the clinic bleeding. As someone had pulled him into the doorway, demanding her help, it only took her one second to pull him into a cot. His face was covered with blood, along with his arms. His clothes were caked with mud and his eyes were looking around lazily. He looked like he had gone to war. But he wasn't the first to walk into her clinic like this.

"Don't ask," Maddox once told her, the first time someone had walked in like this. "It's not our business what happened to them." Selene always believed that Maddox didn't want any more drama than needed. Maddox was correct – it didn't matter why they were beat up, but only that they needed to fix them.

But her curiosity was growing and growing. They were always children, always just kids. Maybe fourteen to fifteen, but young enough for her to question why. She wanted to ask where they came from, and why they had ended up on her doorstep, but she knew that was too much. Even caked with mud, though, she knew that their clothes were better than the citizens under the mountain had. Better fabric, richer material. Too rich to be from Under the Mountain. So how did they come here?
"Who are you?" the boy asked feebly, his eyes looking over her delicate face. Selene gave him a small smile.

"You're at a clinic," Selene told him. "I'm here to help you. What's your name?" The kid hesitated. He glanced around quickly, trying to take in the scene, but he was still confused.

"John," he breathed. "What's wrong with me? Am I dying?" She pursed her lips. She was hoping that one day one of the patients would accidentally tell her what had happened, but they always had some sort of amnesia.

"No," Selene said. "Some broken bones and some harsh wounds, but nothing that'll kill you." Nothing changed on the boy's face.

"When will I be able to leave?" He asked, his voice cracking. Selene's face hardened.

"Why would you want to leave?" Selene asked. She tried to hide the hunger, the need for the truth in her voice, but it was impossible. "Wouldn't you rather be in my care, safe?" The boy opened his mouth, about to respond, but then she heard someone clear their throat.

Quickly, she swerved around. Even though it wasn't purposefully, she stepped in front of the boy. But when she looked in front of her, she groaned.

"Jameson." He was leaning against one of the tables, smirking at her. She hardly even blinked.

"Well, it's been weeks since the last time I saw you," Selene said, her voice cool. His eyebrows went up.

"Oh, did you miss me?" No, no she did not. But she was more tense when he was gone because he was the last one left, whether she liked it or not, who could protect her down here.

"I was hoping you weren't dead. I like you," Jameson replied. She rolled her eyes dramatically.

"What do you need?" She asked him. And with that demand, he opened his pockets and dumped the materials onto the table. Her eyes widened.

Minerals. Plants. Remedies. There weren't a lot – only five or six. But it was enough to keep them for atleast another month. And maybe, if they were lucky –

"I know what you're thinking. Maybe we can plant them," Jameson said. "I've been working with our botanist and he thinks, with a bit of luck and a lot of light, we might be able to do so." The Court of Nightmares did have one patch of green, but she assumed that nothing could grow since it was just an open field.

"Really?" Selene asked softly. "You would do that?" Jameson blinked.

"Of course I would," he said. He almost sounded offended. "This place is finally turning into a real city because of your help. We owe you." She swallowed. Nobody thanked her, nobody showed gratitude, so when Jameson did…

"I also have a present," he said, putting his hand in his pocket. "I'm hoping you'll like it." When took his hand out, her face dropped. A small, silver key.

"And what is that?" She asked.

"An apartment," Jameson said. "For you." She stepped back. An apartment? Here?

"Why?" She asked. "Tobias gave me a whole palace." Jameson smirked at her.

"Yeah, and that palace is a twenty minute walk on a good day," Jameson reminded her. "Plus, I'm sure you loathe living under the same roof as Keir." She did. Every opportunity he could, he reminded her that she was a guest in his home.

"It's a nice apartment," Jameson went on. "A full kitchen, new furniture, two floors. All for you." Her eyebrows scrunched down, shaking her head.

"Why?" She asked. "What do I owe you?" It was so tempting. Too tempting. Jameson shrugged.

"Nothing. I figured if we all deserved a living space around here, you deserved one too," Jameson replied. "You don't have to move in immediately, but everything there is already in place and the apartment is ready when you are." But she couldn't. She wouldn't.

"I can't take this. He told me-" He. Tobias.

"It's your choice," Jameson said, nodding respectfully. "But, either way, it's yours."

~*~ discidium ~*~

"You're getting bigger." It was a sneer. Another back-handed comment from the lovely Maddox. Selene struggled to not roll her eyes.

"Yes, I am pregnant," Selene said. But she was glad someone finally noticed at least. The pregnancy was going by so slow, so tedious, that it was difficult to notice when she was actually getting bigger.

"You won't be allowed to stop working," Maddox told her coldly. "I don't care if you are giving birth, you will show up to work." Selene's eyebrows rose. Maddox rarely spoke to her about her private life, but when she did it was never positive.

"Of course I will," Selene said. "I would never expect anything less from my favorite boss." Maddox opened her mouth, about to launch a rude comment, when the door opened. Both Selene and Maddox turned around sharply, and immediately Maddox stiffened.

"My lady." That was what they called Keir's fiancee. Lady. When they used that word with Selene, it was an insult. But when they said it to Keir's fiancée, it was godly. Selene crossed her arms.

"How can we help?" She asked. There was a cloth wrapped around the woman's head, as if she was trying to avoid citizens noticing her, but her blonde hair stuck out of her turban brightly. Unfortunately, she didn't fool anyone.

"I need to speak to Selene," the lady demanded, glancing around warily. Her eyes fixated on a blood stain on the wall. Behind Selene and Maddox, there was a patient moaning. Maddox took a step towards her.

"I'm sure I can help you, My Lady, if you would-"

"I want Selene." Even Selene stiffened at her tone. With her lips pursed, Maddox walked away from her side, going around Keir's soon-to-be wife. As she exited the doorway, she shot Selene a dark look. If only she knew that Selene didn't want to be stuck with her either.

But here she was, alone with the Lady of the Court of Nightmares. Though Selene ate with them every night, she had rarely spoken to the lady. She knew that she had a female lover, she knew that she was married to Keir, she knew that she absolutely resented him. But she didn't know much else.

"What brings you in today?" Selene said, her voice cool. The Lady took a step towards her.

"Can they hear us?" The lady said, beckoning to the ill behind her. Selene didn't even follow her gaze.

"Yes, but given the circumstances of most of their injuries, I'm sure they don't care," Selene said dryly. The Lady pursed her lips at her.

"I had a predicament, and I don't want anyone to know," the Lady said. Selene nodded.

"And what is it?" She asked. The Lady hesitated. There was confliction on her face, maybe even a bit of fear.

"I think I'm pregnant." It didn't faze her. She could tell that the Lady assumed she would be shocked, maybe delighted, but Selene didn't care much.

"Was the baby conceived under the mountain?" Because that made a difference. If the baby was conceived about the mountain, than the baby would come 27 months from now, but if the baby was conceived –

"Under the mountain," the Lady replied. "Which means I'll only be pregnant for nine months, correct?" Selene nodded slowly.

"So why are you here?" Selene asked. Her voice wasn't merciful. "It seems like you aren't in any pain."

"I want an abortion." Selene blinked. Her cold, hard face broke.

"An abortion? You're Keir's wife. Why don't you just have the baby?" Selene asked.

"I heard you've given women abortions, have you not?" The woman pressed. Selene's lips pursed. She had, she in fact had. She believed everybody had a choice. Nobody should be forced to have a child.

"Yes," Selene said tightly. "And I will give you one if you most desire it. But everyone who has come in here looking for an abortion are usually sixteen-year-old whores living on the street. You have money, you are in good health. You don't exactly fit the stereotype." The woman swallowed. Her face had grown whiter.

"You're a lady too," she said quietly. "You know what it's like. You know what those men do to us." Those men. Tobias and Keir.

"Tobias has never hurt me," Selene argued. There was no sympathy in her voice. "As a pregnant woman, my situation isn't that bad. And I can't imagine yours being bad either." But the Lady shook her head.

"He sent you away," she said. "He loves you and he still sent you away. Keir resents me. What will he do to me when he finds out I'm pregnant?" Selene would assume he'd be happy. Their baby could be an heir. He needs an heir.

"Unless you can…change the gender," the woman said. Selene laughed at this. Laughed at her. The woman didn't want to get rid of her child, Selene realized, she just wanted to change the baby's gender.

"Reading on remedies have you?" Selene asked, watching as the woman grew red. "That is a fable. It's what old women tell young mothers to make a few bucks. You can't change the gender. I can test for the gender though." The woman was still as stone for a moment, holding onto Selene's gaze tightly.

"He doesn't want an heir. If the baby is a boy, he will kill him and me," the lady confessed. "He doesn't want someone to compete for his throne." After a moment of silence, Selene nodded. She understood. She understood more than she wanted to admit.

"Okay," she agreed. "Get on the table. If it's a girl, we keep it. If it's a boy, we terminate, My Lady." The woman, for a second, looked like she was going to cry.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "And, Selene…you can call me Allison."

~*~ discidium ~*~

The clinic was overflowing. Half of Maddox's store had to go to waste as they brought in more beds, with only Selene to stabilize them. By now Maddox had caught on to Selene's skills, silently shadowing her at a distance, but she still wasn't good enough. Months and months, and Maddox still wasn't at her level. The work load wasn't impossible, but Selene counted twenty people moaning and crying easily and Maddox could only do so much.

And there was a knock at the door.

"Turn them away," Maddox said coolly, inserting a handmade IV into one of the patient's arms. "We have to start turning them away." Selene swallowed. Most of the individuals didn't have diseases, they were just injured. Surely, they could take one more person.

"Let me at least see," Selene begged, before opening the door and letting out a groan. Jameson was in front of her, his face flushed and his eyes wide. He was panting. She was tempted to slam the door in his face but he looked…like he was dying himself.

"Have you seen what's been going on?" Selene snapped. "We're busy. I don't have time to play games with you. The people in here are dying and multiplying." Jameson nodded urgently. His fingers were shaking.

"You need to take them and go," Jameson said quickly. "Move all of this stuff back so that it's not in the front room." Selene squinted at him.

"What are you talking about? Moving them back isn't going to help anything. I need more help trying to save these people!" Selene snarled. "I don't see Keir handing me any assistants or giving me any-"

"Because he's busy! The General is here!" Selene stopped. She had remembered, remembered as Rosalie told her that the General was coming for her. She said it like it was a threat.

"I don't understand," Selene said. Jameson rolled his eyes.

"It's a higher official. Tobias's Generals sometimes come and drop by for fun little visits," Jameson said, staring down the dirty pathway. "Fuck, I need to go. He's probably around here. And you, you need to get these people out of the front room! And put up a curtain. Tell Maddox to stand guard."

"People are going through treatment! I am not going to-"

"They will die anyways if he sees them!" Jameson said, his teeth clenched. "He's hunting, Selene. He's not here to chitchat or make deals. He's hunting and trying to find some reason to punish us." Selene shook her head. Hunting. The word made her skin scrawl.

"That makes no sense," Selene said. "Why would a General come here, out of the blue, just to punish you all? He has better things to do."

"Because someone has to," Jameson replied shortly. "And if they find anything, anything, they can make an excuse to take people, Selene. They can take whatever they want, whether that's jewels or resources or children. And this man is coming. He is coming and he'll hurt us." But Selene wasn't buying it.

"Tobias wouldn't allow that. It's a waste of time. It's a waste of energy. Why-"

"Because Tobias doesn't care!" Jameson bursted. "Because he thinks you're safe in your pretty little palace, so you won't be a victim anyways. So he turns his head. He lets the Generals have their fun because he hates the lot of us. He wants to make sure we are too depleted, have too little, to ever rise against him." She blinked at him slowly.

"Jameson, you sound insane." Jameson looked more than insane. He looked delusional, distraught.

"Move the cots to the backroom, Selene."

"Jameson, we can't fit all of the IVs back there! These people are in vulnerable positions. We can't just move them around-"

"Selene, please! He'll be going through here any minute and I need to get back to the palace," Jameson pleaded.

"Who told you that?" Selene asked quietly. "How do you know if-"

"Have you not paid any attention?" Jameson hissed. Selene blinked. She had, she tried. But nobody tells her anything. Nobody trusts her.

"There's a circle, Selene," Jameson said quickly. "A circle of the most powerful members below this shitty mountain. A circle of men who deserted their life above the mountain to be here, in Hell. Men of power who sustain the Court of Nightmares abilities because the High Lord will not. That's how I know. I'm one of them." She couldn't argue that. It made sense. She had heard whispers at the dinner table – her first night Jameson spoke to Keir about a circle meeting. But why would this affect her? Who cares?

"I'll be fine," Selene said flatly. She was about to close the door but he grabbed her hand. His fingernails dug into her wrist as she was yanked forward.

"Please, Selene," Jameson said, his voice feeble. "If you care about these people, about anything in this damn place, then hide them." She paused, holding onto his gaze. He had never truly lied to her. Sure, he lived in a careful web of stretched stories, but he never lied about the important things. Because he trusted her. Nobody else under this mountain trusted her, but he did.

"Run," Selene breathed. "I'll protect them." Jameson let out a shaky exhale, nodding as he darted away into the dark shadows. Selene watched him until the silhouette of his body melted into the darkness. Quickly, she turned around. Maddox was cursing behind her, trying to tie a bandage that wasn't aligned correctly.

"Maddox," Selene said, her voice oddly calm, "He's hunting." She stopped immediately, her eyes wide. The sick ones who heard her looked up in unison, like their pain was instantly forgotten.

"He's hunting?" Maddox replied through her clenched teeth. She dropped the wrap. Her eyes darted around, looking at the supplies scattered around, at the overcrowded room of people. For a second, Selene wasn't entirely sure she was breathing. "Tell me how to fix this."

"The backroom," Selene said, nodding. Maddox gave her a slight nod before grabbing the cots and pulling them into the storage area behind the counter. Twenty-two people, Selene counted. Maybe, maybe it would work. And it did. When people heard those words, even if they were half-conscious they arranged themselves closely. Everybody was in quiet terror as Selene directed where to go. As they began to settle, she rushed to the front.

It was a hot mess. Bandages littered the floor, bowls of medicine scattered the counter tops. She grabbed spared blankets and threw it over everything – the tables, the floor, the countertops. She didn't have time to destroy the evidence, she didn't even have time to effectively hide it. But blankets…if someone were come in, and they weren't paying too much attention, they'd be fine.

She was almost done putting a blanket on the front counter when there was a knock on the door. Maddox, who was helping her, froze. Selene nodded at her to go behind the curtain, which separated the shop-area and the storage area where the people were hiding. And again, she felt alone. Alone, and she didn't know who hid behind that door. Who was hunting? And what did that even mean?

She felt her feet walk towards the door, and her face was emotionless when she finally opened it.

He looked like a general. She was half in shock that Jameson was correct, and partially in shock that any sort of general would want to walk through the Court of Nightmares. He was tall, with cropped short hair. His uniform was formal and militaristic. Black with gold lining. She looked at him up and down, and he looked at her.

"And who are you?" She asked, seemingly bored. Honestly, she wasn't that impressed. He looked like the average-day dickhead that Tobias had to tolerate. She wouldn't have recognized him in a line up.

"Lady Selene," the man said. He had originally been leaning on the door frame but once he met eyes with her, and took her in, he stood upward. "People address me as General. Why are you here? Word had it that you were staying in the palace." She didn't even blink at him.

"Word had it," she mimicked, "that there were orders for you lot to leave me alone. Clearly, directions are difficult for the Night Court." He blinked and silently, she cursed herself. She might have been daring when she lived in the Night Court, but she wasn't disrespectful. She would never speak ill of the Night Court. But he took her in now – the Hewn City clothes, the tight braids, the dark make-up.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, and he flashed her a tight smile. "I'm sure your High Lord would disagree with your whereabouts." She pursed her lips.

"It's a studio," she lied. "We haven't gotten the painting supplies yet but it's still an art studio. I doubt the High Lord minds that I have a hobby." His eyes remained on her as he stepped in, causing her to tumble back.

"Really," he purred, pacing as he took in the room. Selene's hand remained on the open door. Everything was so quiet, yet so loud. It would take one sniffle, one groan, for everything to be revealed.

"Why?" Selene asked. "Have you heard word that he wants me to come back?" She found, as she let the words out, that she didn't care. She had sent Tobias hundreds of letters – at this point, she didn't mind the Court of Nightmares. He chose his life and she chose hers.

"He's a bit preoccupied," the General said carefully. "With other people." She swallowed. Other people. That must mean Clythia.

"As am I," Selene said, gesturing downward. The General glanced at her baby bump. One of his bushy eyebrows rose up. "I'm pregnant, you see. And I'm not supposed to spend a lot of time on my feet. Is there something I can do for you?" The General didn't break his gaze.

"Yes, actually," the General said, a small smile curling on his lips. He began to circle her. "Do you know anything of this place? Anything your High Lord might disapprove of?" She swallowed.

"This entire mountain, for one," Selene responded sharply. "But I would suggest starting in Keir's quarters." The General stopped suddenly.

"Oh," the General said. He seemed genuinely shocked that she gave him a response. Clearly, most of the citizens of the Hewn City were willing to lie for their cruel leader.

Selene nodded.

"Yes," Selene said slowly. "I always found him…slimy." The General nodded. She finally took a breath as he began to step towards the door.

"Thank you, Lady Selene. I'll tell your husband you said hello," The general responded. His fingers were on the door knob. "I'm sure-" But then he stopped.

"General?" Selene asked, taking a step forward. "Is there something wrong?" There was certainly something wrong. He was staring at the wall intensely. He let go of the knob, his face growing closer. He touched the wallpaper with his index finger. From where Selene stood, she now saw the wet liquid that had made it to the wall.

"There's blood on the wall," he said aloud, sniffing it. "Why is there blood on the wall?" She crossed her sweaty hands behind her back.

"It's the Court of Nightmares. What else do you thi-" But then he strutted across the room, his face tight as he lingered towards curtain. It was the only thing he hadn't checked, the only thing that could reveal something. He reached up.

"I hope you wouldn't mind if I-" She rushed between him and the curtain, but it was too late – he moved it so fast that it ripped off the rod. He stiffened. She backed closer to the crowd of people as his eyes went over the crowd. Quietly, scarily. Even Maddox seemed terrified. Selene's breath shook.

"What's this?" The General said. Selene bared her teeth at him.

"It doesn't matter what it is. It-"

"Nobody told you that being a healer was illegal in the Hewn City?" He looked down at her. It took him half of a second to figure it out. She was the healer. This wasn't a painting shop – it was a clinic. A clinic for the tortured. Her clinic.

"Tobias gave me permission," Selene said, and for a second she thought he believed it. He relished in the pause. But then he smiled.

"You're a bad liar," he said back. "Your husband may love you but this…this would be an act of treason." She took another step back. Behind her, she heard a whimper.

"What do you want?" Selene hissed.

"This is a good," the general said aloud. "This is better than I expected to find." Selene shook her head. Though she hated it, she was fighting tears.

"What do you want?" Selene said louder. "Name it. Name it and I'll give it to you!" And then he looked over her again – at her angelic face, her skinny body, her beautiful hair.

"What if I asked for you, Lady Selene? I'm a General. Surely, you would enjoy indulging in another man. What-" She spat at his feet. He flinched, but it only made him walk closer to her. There was only a foot, maybe two, between them.

"I'm not for sale," Selene said. "And neither are they."

"Why, Lady Selene?" The General asked surly. "It's not like your husband is faithful." Her face burned.

"Just because you go on your knees for him, General, does not mean you know what happens in his personal life," Selene hissed back. "We're are faithful to one another. And he won't question my word when I tell him that you terrorized me." The General laughed, laughed as her body inched closer to the huddled people. She could feel the terror spreading amongst the group.

"Women…" The General said aloud. "So naive…" His eyes were hungry now, looking at the people, the injured, the pregnant women. He looked at them like they were all beautiful presents, all waiting to be opened.

"Don't worry, Lady Selene, I will not hurt your people," The General chortled, as if he could read her thoughts. "But the High Lord will." Her eyes widened. No. The General turned away from her, walking away steadily, but she grabbed the knife from the table next to her.

"You will not say a word," Selene growled. He whipped around again, his lips curled upward, but before he understood what was happening, she dug the knife into his stomach. He looked down, his eyes wide. And then he fell to the ground. Everyone was quiet as they watched him bleed out, watched the life drain from his eyes. But she didn't feel guilty. Even if her body was covered with blood, she did not feel guilty.

When she turned around, nobody was sneering at her. Nobody was smirking or scowling or angry. Instead, their faces were slack. Some were even in tears as they looked over her. And then Maddox walked towards her slowly, carefully. Selene took a deep breath, bracing for the impact that Maddox was going to inflict. But then a tear fell down her face.

"Thank you," she whispered.

~*~ discidium ~*~

Her bed was smeared with blood. It had already dried in her hair and her clothes – her clothes were absolutely ruined. She tossed over a gown and her eyes longed out the window, lazily looking at the dim city. It was so much, so much, and she was so tired. The General – he was right. It was treason. It was treason and even though she thought it was good, it was still against the law. And she could live with that, she thought, as her eyes began to close. She could live with breaking the law, committing treason, but only for so long. And she killed a man. She killed a man and didn't even blink. He could have had a family. Tobias was horrible – cruel sometimes, but he had a family. He was good, in some ways. The General was cruel, but maybe there were people who loved him. People she hurt. And maybe the people of the Hewn City would forgive her, but she would never forgive herself.

Just as she was about to fully drift away, her door slammed open. It banged against the wall so hard that she swore part of the door split. She jolted up, looking at the wild figure in front of her. Jameson – and he was covered in blood too. Head-to-toe, as if he had been following her bloody tracks. But his eyes were blazing. Blazing, like a fire that couldn't be contained.

"Jameson," she breathed, but he yanked her out of bed violently, dragging her to her feet.

"You quit? You fucking quit?" She felt naked as she backed up against the wall. She practically was naked. All she was wearing was an opaque gown. With the bright candle lights flickering in their hands, she knew they could see everything through the thin material. Any other group of men would have gawked and laughed. Yet, nobody was looking at her body. Instead, Jameson hadn't let go of her eyes. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her face. The knife, jagged and dirty, was tilted towards her face. He smelled like blood.

"Get off-"

"Since when do you quit?" His eyes were wide, and dark circles shadowed under his bottom eyelids. "I thought you were better than that. Than this." Her eyes remained on the knife. She could feel her body shaking against the wooden wall.

"It's none of your business!"

"I trusted you, Selene." She pretended that the word didn't affect her, but even he could tell that she flinched. How could Jameson trust her so easily? What did he even see in her?

"Trusted me? Jameson, this is a short term situation. I can't let these people get attached to me. You don't understand, I am a High Lord's wife. That is all I am. One day, I will have to leave-" He pressed the knife against her throat. It was cold, so very cold.

"Jameson," she whispered. "Please." She could've sworn tears were forming in his eyes.

"These are my people, even if you refuse to admit that they are yours as well, and I will do anything for them," he hissed. "Now, go." He pointed towards the door with the knife. She hesitated, choking as she looked at the large men now guarding the door. They were going to kill her, kill her and her baby.

"Jameson, I'm pregn-"

"Go." She walked out of the room with him at her side. His knife was still pointing at her, but she realized, after a few minutes, he had no intention on using it. Whatever happened today with the General, whatever happened to him, clearly didn't rest well. He looked like he had gone to war and was dragged back from the carnage. He looked like a zombie. And she, as she looked at one of the mirrors that they passed, looked like one too.

He directed her down the stairs, and didn't stop until they were two floors below the landing. She could see her own breath as she shivered. Were they going to lock her up? But when Jameson lit a match, twenty people stared back at her. Twenty men, all wounded and cut up and half-dead. Warriors, soldiers. They had been huddling in the basement all this time.

Now she had her answer.

Her hand went to her lips. She thought she was going to be sick. "Cauldron…Jameson, what have you been doing to these people? Where are they coming from-"

"I want you to look at them," Jameson hissed, pointing his dagger at her again. She winced. "Look at them. These people are dying and you are the only person who can save them. Look at them and then tell me that you aren't meant to save their lives. That you aren't the only one capable of doing it." She didn't even blink at him.

"And if I still don't want to? Even if I am the only one?" She asked. His bottom lip trembled.

"Then of course, you're allowed to go," he let out feebly. But she was his friend. She saw in his eyes that this wasn't just a disappointment, it was truly a betrayal. This was more than just bodies, then. If it were just bodies that needed to be healed, then they would have forced Selene to just teach someone else and they wouldn't worry about the casualties.

"Every day more come to me," she murmured. "These people aren't from the Court of Nightmares, are they? They-"

"It doesn't matter where they come from," Jameson snapped. "None of it matters. The only thing that matters is that every day, every damn day, I have to pick which man goes next. Every day I have to look at these men and I have to choose which one should be sent to your clinic because if too many showed up, then you'd catch on." Her eyes narrowed.

"And now? Now that I know you've be smuggling people into the Court of Nightmares?" She demanded. "Smuggling children." They were in fact children, whether Jameson would admit it or not. None of them surpassed the age of sixteen and they all looked terrified. They were just kids, kids praying not to die.

"Don't judge me for things you don't understand," Jameson said. She shook her head.

"Where do these kids come from?" She asked, looking him up and down now. Trying to figure out what kind of man she had been conversing with for months. "Why are they stuck in a basement, Jameson?" He was quiet for a moment.

"It's complicated," he said simply. She let out a mirthless chuckle.

"Bullshit," she spat. "I'm tired of the lies and manipulation in the Hewn City. I can't save these people. I can't be a part of this. I was supposed to wait out my sentence, and look at me. I'm here, playing around with you. Can't you see why I can't do this anymore?"

"You can," Jameson said, pressing the knife so deep to her throat that it began to pierce her. "And you will not tell your husband. You will not tell anyone. Just like we do not tell your secrets, Selene." A secret for a secret. That was how someone survived in the Night Court, and she had managed to do it. It wasn't difficult to hold his gaze. His eyes were…wild. Not cold, rotten anger like Tobias had, but bright sadness. Chaos.

"What about my life? Have I lost that too?" She hissed. "What happens, Jameson? What happens when Tobias summons me back to his court? Is being pregnant not a big enough sign to know that this isn't going to work forever?" As Jameson dropped the knife to his side and took a small step back, he held her gaze tightly.

"These people are depending on you," Jameson answered weakly. "You have to, Selene. You are the last one we have left. I know you want to do this. For once, you look alive. The only reason you're afraid to keep doing this is because you're afraid of what Tobias may do in retaliation. And as long as you have that fear, I won't let you give up." Desperation, it was pure desperation that he pulled her away from her quarters in the middle of the night. Maybe resentment too. Resentment of her privilege. Not just as a wife to a High Lord, but her village gave her shelter. Warmth. Despite their cruelty, they had a system. A code of living that protected their people.

Jameson had turned around, whispering something to the men, but Selene spoke before he could fully leave. "I want a seat." He paused. He didn't turn around fully, but he shifted his body far enough to meet eyes with her.

"A seat?" She nodded at him. Her fingers were clammy with sweat but, luckily, he didn't notice.

"At the table," she said. "If I'm doing this for you, if I'm lying to my husband, I want a seat." Her mouth had dried up fully now. Surely, he wouldn't do it. She wasn't good enough, she wasn't important enough.

"Fine. Our meeting is at dawn," he said. And as he walked away, and she stood in shock, she could've sworn there was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

~*~ discidium ~*~

She managed to wash herself before then. She laid awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, recounting the terrified eyes that had stared back at her when Jameson dragged her into the basement. Haunted by the fact that Jameson not only put a knife to her neck, but also the fact that she was his only hope. Her. An 18-year-old, pregnant, child-bride.

But she was fearless as Jameson met her at her room and escorted her to a door on the opposite wing. It looked like a normal room from the outside – no different than her own bedroom, but when he opened the room, she realized it was far different. It was huge, bigger than Tobias's conference room, with large, golden chairs faced in a circle. There were golden-red fires that touched the ceiling on each corner of the room. And a small bowl that all the chairs centered around. She could easily lift it in one hand, nothing more than a bowl used for soup. It was made out of blue glass, but as she grew closer she realized how truly beautiful it was. The mesmerizing liquid looks like bursts of ink swimming in water.

"What's that?" Selene asked. Jameson's eyes flickered to the bowl. She didn't know how many times he had seen it, but she could tell that he was still mesmerized by its beauty.

"If everything burns to hell," Jameson said, "that's our last resort." She stiffened. What could a bowl do that makes it a last resort? But Jameson didn't want to tell her, she could tell, and she wondered if she even wanted to know.

"What's she doing here?" A voice sneered. She looked up. It was Keir. Most of everybody was already taking their seat, but Keir – Keir had jumped up.

"In turn for serving us, she will have a chair in the circle," Jameson said calmly. Immediately, a buzz of whispers went through the room. Keir went to his feet instantly.

"She will not!" Keir spat. "Her being here is a complete hazard to our court. How could you even commit such treachery? You should be ashamed of yourself, Jameson." Jameson, on the other hand, didn't look ashamed at all.

Instead, he scowled, "Oh, don't get your panties in a knot, Keir. What could go wrong?" Keir stammered stupidly.

"She-she could tell Tobias, that's what!" Keir growled. She couldn't help but blink in surprise. She hadn't expected Keir to know his name, let alone say it.

"No, she won't," Jameson said, his eyes on her hard now. She blinked again, her face heating as they all looked towards her.

"I-I won't," she stammered to Keir. "I won't tell him." She told herself it was for the greater good – being here, being able to hear about the Court of Nightmares' plans, was more important than her honesty with Tobias. Even Jameson couldn't help but look surprised, though Keir's face didn't change in the least.

"We can't have her here," Keir said, in a low hiss. "Look at her." Jameson took a step towards Keir, a small step. Keir stumbled back, taking in a harsh breath as he held onto Jameson's deathly glare.

"You think those people accept her? You look at her, Keir," Jameson growled. "Look at her. She bears wings. She is an outcast, just like us. She's knocked up with Tobias's child, and where does he send her? Far, far away. She is not one of them." It was then that she realized that Keir's loatheness towards her wasn't about her being an Illyrian near as much as it was about being one of Tobias's people. One of them, an elite above the mountain. Keir was quiet for a moment, as if agreeing that Jameson's words were correct.

"She is still a woman," Keir grunted irritably. "An Illyrian woman." Jameson's cruel face broke, letting out a snort.

"She certainly is," Jameson agreed. "And if you have an issue with that, you can leave my circle. As can the rest of you." His eyes went across each and every person, all of them deeply uncomfortable. To her surprise, nobody objected. Though Keir's face was red with fury, he sat down in his seat with a thud.

"Sit," Jameson gestured, waving towards the empty chair next to him. He seemed tired already. "Let's speak." At first, she didn't learn much. There was still a deprivation of food supply, the medical services were causing an increase in the economy due to an increase in active population but also caused the need for more resources, and there was an argument on whether the only greenery patch in the Night Court should be turned into a full garden so that she could use the plants as medicine for others.

"We can all agree that it would be foolish to do otherwise," one of them gruffed. "And I think it's time we get down to more…controversial matters." His eyes landed on her testily, as if he was trying to analyze how honest she truly was. It was plain that none of them trusted her, and she didn't trust them, but someone had to take the first step to diplomacy.

"You mean about the teenagers dying in the basement?" Selene drawled impatiently. "Because that is certainly something we should speak about." Keir had a small smile on his face while others shifted uncomfortably. They didn't trust her, they didn't trust her at all. And she didn't trust them.

"And you have experience in the matter, Lady Selene?" Keir asked. "I didn't know Tobias's armed race was dying miserably. Please tell us more about how you are even half-qualified to speak on such things." She didn't even blink at him.

"Selene," she responded slowly. "You can call me Selene. And no, Keir. The Illyrians do not live in such bad conditions, but that's because we persevere." Instantly, the room changed. Instead of the tense, hesitant voices, the men bursted altogether.

"You think we are too weak to help ourselves?" One of the spat instantly. His face was red. "Is that it, Lady Selene? That your people don't have to deal with this because you're stronger?" Her face paled.

"I'm just saying-"

"She's just saying that her husband cares about them more, that's all," Keir said dryly. Jameson's body tilted in her direction. "That they are more useful to him. That we are just collateral damage." She sat closer to the end of her chair.

"Yes," she said sharply. "I am. I'm not saying it's right – I'm not saying I agree. But the Illyrians were taught how to persevere, while you all weren't. We go through the same issues, yet we survive. We learn. We teach. We tell our daughters how to make a medicine that will cure the flu, we teach our men how to hunt and gain as much wealth as possible. Our elders defend us, and the High Lord supplies us with resources when needed because having a coup would be devastating for him." It was all power. All crazy, unbalanced power. And fear, lots of fear.

"And how are we supposed to do that, Lady Selene?" Keir hissed. "Your High Lord treats us like scum." She swallowed.

"We divert," Selene said. "We stop pretending that he may help us. We stop waiting for his permission to do something, and we fight. We teach our women how to make medication, we teach our boys job skills. It won't be fast, it won't be fun, but within a generation, this place…this place will be a real city." It was easier said than done. Far easier. It would take time, and twice the amount of work than the Hewn City would normally put into anything.

"You can't possibly believe that with current global tensions, that this is plausible," Keir said. Jameson's eyes were on her carefully.

"Tobias is so fixated on Clythia right now that he wouldn't even notice," Selene admitted. "Unless she plans on attacking the Hewn City-"

"Careful," a quieter man said. His voice was like venom. "Despite popular belief, the Hewn City is precious, Lady Selene. There are plenty of reasons why someone would want it." It was a possibility. A very small possibility.

"Then send out spies," Selene said. "Our most trustworthy men. Men who we know can get out of the mountain without being detected and will for sure come back, and tell them to keep track of Clythia's whereabouts." A man scoffed.

"Why can't you just ask your beloved husband?" The man sneered. "Surely, that's not that hard." Her fingers clutched the arm rest. It was over three-hundred letters now that she has sent him. She stopped trying weeks ago, and she knew she had to stop. To stop waiting, to stop thinking, to stop believing that she wasn't going to die here.

"Because he has no idea what he's doing," Selene said, her voice but a whisper. "He doesn't know his enemy, I'm not even sure if he understands her fully. He's reaching out into the darkness and not using logic to make choices. He would not be helpful. This is what I'm saying…we need to become independent." Jameson's eyes…she refused to look at him, but she knew he still hadn't looked away. There was no way she could meet his eyes now – she knew what he was thinking. She wasn't against Tobias's choices, she backed up every single one of his, but, what if there was a way for the Hewn City to survive without him? Wouldn't it be easier…for him?

"And what about the men in the basement?" Keir crooned, his eyebrows rising. "You can't possibly believe-"

"Send them all to my clinic tomorrow morning," Selene said with a sigh. "Afterword, we'll bring them back to their mothers'. I'm sure they're waiting for them." But when she looked at the people around her, they looked stricken. Even disgusted.

"They have endured enough, don't you think?" The quiet man replied sharply. Selene's face slackened. "They came to the Hewn City for refuge. Not many have the nerve to do that." She lurched forward.

"These men are illegal immigrants?" She said, louder this time. Keir's upper lip curled up. "Keir, if we're to get this place settled, we need population control. We-"

"I think it's time we take a break," Jameson interrupted. "Dillon, try to arrange some spies. Tell them to get all the information they can find within a week so that we can get this project started. Selene – stay back." When the rest of the men rose, and her mouth opened to object, she noticed how the men sneered at her. Clearly, she had said something. Something awful.

It wasn't until all of the men had disappeared, and the door slammed shut, did she speak.

"You're smuggling in illegal immigrants?" She snarled. But his face was as hard as stone. Clearly, this wasn't something she could argue.

"They're not just illegal immigrants," he said coolly. "They've done a great deal for us." She let out a low, mirthless laugh.

"What? Used up our resources? Cut themselves up so that I can waste my only medicine, which could go to legal citizens, on them?" Selene demanded. "You've lost your mind." Jameson jumped out of his chair jerkily. Reflexively, so did Selene.

"These are not just teenager boys!" Jameson's voice rose. "These are victims. Victims of the sins of your husband's Court." She rolled her eyes.

"We have an official illegal immigrant process," she snapped back. "They can get in line just like the rest of them." His eyes narrowed on her.

"That's what they're hiding from. Don't you get it?" Jameson said back, mockingly. At first, she didn't. How could people fear the Night Court so much that they'd bother hiding in the Hewn City? But then she remembered how she met Jameson, why he had tried so hard to get close to her, why he was so earnest for her to adapt into the Hewn City. This was his world, this was his army. He was not a patriot of the Night Court by any means.

"You've been bringing me refugees and revolutionary soldiers after all this time?" Selene shrilled. "I am not a revolutionary, Jameson. I am not a part of your double agenda! If you-"

"These people are dying," Jameson replied sharply. "Dying, everywhere. In the mountains, in the Court of Nightmares, in the crevasses and forgotten hills of the Night Court. They are being slaughtered and beat and tortured by Night Court military. The indigenous is now a minority. So, I'm not going to apologize, Selene. Those people are withering away and I'll sacrifice any person in my path to get them to safety. Even you." Selene blinked.

"Devlon would've said that," Selene said aloud, her voice barely a whisper. "He'd feed me to the wolves to save his people. He'd beg me to feed him to the wolves to save his people. And look where he is now. This court doesn't have time for damn vigilantes, Jameson." Jameson shook his head lightly.

"You've saved forty-three children," Jameson said slowly. "John was a fifteen-year-old boy who was kidnapped at thirteen-years-old by the Night Court military. He ran away from his camp and switched sides. To our side." Our side. He didn't just mean him and the rest of the Court of Nightmares, he meant him and her. Her side.

"Don't talk to me like we're allies."
"You killed one of the Night Court's generals. What, do you regret that?" She paused at this.

"He was a disgrace-"

"Was he? I heard he won several medals, given by your High Lord personally."

"Tobias was mistaken."

"Tobias sent him here." She inhaled sharply. She could've sworn that Jameson flinched a bit as well, as if he regretted saying it as soon as it was let out. Almost as if he too knew it was too much.

"He sent him here?" Selene asked quietly. "He must have had a reason-"

"Someone tipped him off," Jameson interrupted. "But who the fuck cares why Tobias sent him down here? It doesn't erase what happened." And as he walked away from her, slamming the door shut, he was right, she realized. It didn't erase anything.

~*~ discidum ~*~

"I need you." It was only three words, but when Selene swung around to meet Jameson's eyes, she hesitated. She had finally convinced Keir to pay Maddox for her assistance in the medical clinical so that Maddox could, instead of having half of a store and half of a clinic in her shop, could use the full shop as a health clinic. It could fit twenty, maybe thirty more people and, due to Selene's diligence, Maddox made more money than she had ever made before. Selene was still on a stipend given by her husband, which was more than enough to last her eighteen months, so she let Maddox have her salary as well. The impact that the money caused was enormous. It allowed them to hire assistants, to take in my patients, to devote more money into the large garden that was developing on the greenery.

So when Selene turned around coolly, and met Jameson's eyes, she wasn't lying when she said, "I'm busy." Since their argument, that hadn't spoken outside of their meetings. But, when she looked at his solemn face, she couldn't help but feel solemn as well.

"What's going on?" She asked with a defeated sigh. Jameson's jaw tensed.

"It's an emergency meeting," Jameson said quietly. "Our spy has arrived." Finally. It had been weeks since they sent him off, far more overdue than the week-deadline that they had initially given him.

Her eyes narrowed.

"This is the…shadowsinger?" She said, her voice barely a whisper. She had heard of shadowsingers, but she had never met one upfront. Jameson nodded.

"This meeting is starting now," Jameson informed her. His words were soft. "So if you could…?" She nodded.

"Let me go tell one of the assistants that I am leaving," Selene said. Within half a minute, she was back at Jameson's side. They walked quietly at first, barely even breathing.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly. "I'm sorry for-for lying about the refugees." She almost tripped when she heard the word. Her eyes darted at him, finally looking at his face. He did look awful. His skin had looked awfully white lately, bags surrounded his eyes, his body weight had decreased.

"Don't be," Selene responded. "You did what you thought was right." And she admired it. Despite her coldness to him, her need to ignore him, she admired his bravery. It was far more bravery than she had.

"Well, since we're over that," Jameson said, a small smile on his face. "I think we should talk about the emergency meeting before we go in." Her eyebrows perked up. They were only a few feet away from the door now.

"Did they find something on Clythia?" Selene asked. Jameson hesitated.

"Yes," Jameson said carefully. "And Tobias." Selene's eyebrows rose up further.

"What about-" Jameson opened the door. In front of her was a man, wiry and thin, holding up what looked like a cloud of smoke. No, it was a cloud of shadows, she realized. Shadows of shapes and sizes and…as she looked closer, people. And as she looked, she saw more and more detail.

"Shit," Jameson hissed. "I didn't want you to hear about it like thi-" One of the figures was Tobias. She was still as stone as she watched the image play, like a memory, of Tobias…touching another woman. Kissing another woman. Rolling in the sheets that she had slithered into a million times, naked and urgently and without hesitation. His face was blank, like a robot, no emotion was evident, but the girl…

"Clythia," she blurted. "That's-That's Clythia." She hadn't realized that the rest of the room was full of the other men already waiting for her.

"That is all we need for verification of her presence," one of the men said at a distance. He was speaking to Jameson. "He is sleeping with the enemy." Sleeping was an understatement. Sleeping was just one word, and one word couldn't describe the pain of this infidelity. That he, her own mate, wanted to touch this woman. To sleep with woman. After telling her he wasn't interested, after sacrificing everything.

"That makes no sense," Selene breathed. She sat in one of the chairs, watching the memory replay. Her eyes shuttered. "Why would he…?" Jameson's eyes were cold as night.

"Power," he guessed. "Don't take it personally, Selene. He doesn't love her – he probably hates her. He's doing it because getting closer to her helps him." Her fingers were shaking. Her breath…she felt like oxygen wasn't even going into her lungs. He sent her away, he sent her away and now-

"Protection," one of the men argued, mulling over the options. "Definitely protection from Hybern. How close are her units to our mountain?" Because that's all that mattered to the Hewn City, apparently. Fuck the rest of the world. Fuck the Illyrians and their mountains, the one's closest to Clythia's wrath. Screw their neighboring courts, their common people.

"Far enough away that Tobias wouldn't think about it," Jameson said, his voice soft. "I don't think he has any intention on bargaining with her over the Court of Nightmares. He'd be too busy wondering why she'd want it." Did he even remember her? Did he forget that she was alive, that he had sent her down here, that she was carrying his child?

"Selene, what's your insight? You met the woman," she heard Jameson say, but her mind was a thousand miles away.

"Selene," Jameson said again. "Selene!" Finally, she looked at him. She looked at all of them. Some were snickering, as if they detected her weakness, Jameson's face was tense. They were expecting her to snap, to burst into tears. To show them how weak she truly was.

"I think…I think…" Did he love Clythia? No, not at all. Was he attracted to her? Certainly. But did he want her near his resources, near his people? No. "I think he's doing it because he's afraid." Her mouth felt as dry as a desert. She had never expected herself to exploit Tobias's vulnerabilities. But, now, she didn't feel guilty.

"What do you mean?" Jameson asked.

"She wants him," Selene said. "And not…not like as a couple. She's infatuated with his power. And she wants it. She wants his court, his resources. He's probably just giving her a taste of it as he considers what to do. She knows so much about this court, and has the military ability to take over, that he will have to kill her carefully. She has to die or she will take everything from him. She won't ever stop." Jameson leaned back in his chair, nodding.

"That's clever," he said, almost to himself. "Most men would never think of that. Most men wouldn't even be able to stomach that." Yes, Tobias was thinking like a woman. Using sex as a weapon. It worked for Rosalie – it worked for Selene.

"But he's wrong," Selene said. "Clythia already knows everything about the Night Court." Except Velaris. Except for the most important thing. "She knows this city has been alive for over a millennia. This is possibly the oldest city in Prythian. If she is going to take it over, why wouldn't she do it from the inside out?" Many of the men around the table stiffened.

"So as Tobias is trying to fuck the information out of her," Jameson repeated, "she's been trying to get into the Court of Nightmares to try to take over. And Tobias has been too stupid to realize it. She'll probably attack soon, so that once he realizes what's going on, it'll be too late to stop it." Selene nodded solemnly.

"We need to tell him," Selene said. But it would just be another letter, she thought. Another letter that would either be unread or unanswered. A letter that meant nothing, nothing to the High Lord of the Night Court.

"No," Selene corrected herself. "No, we do not tell him a thing. This is our problem. Our battle." She looked up at Jameson, whose eyes were searching her face frantically. Trying to figure out what she was thinking, and how far was she willing to go. But the Lady of the Night Court was dead. Dead to him, dead to everybody. As long as she stayed in the Hewn City, resting on her chair, the Lady of the Night Court was long gone and Selene had no intention on bringing her back.

Jameson swung his head toward Keir.

"Put flanks around the perimeter and make sure every person in this city has a weapon – I don't care if it's a stick or a sword. And you," Jameson said, staring at Selene. "Gather as much medical supplies as possible. Increase the clinic size if you can. We have days, at most."

~*~ discidium ~*~

"Two months," Allison said quietly. Her pregnancy had already been announced but here, in the middle of the Great Hall, she spoke quietly. Keir was far away, arranging meetings with potential military captains. "Keir, obviously, wants to speed up the wedding. I keep telling him we should wait." Annemarie, who was sitting next to her, nodded. They were still lovers.

"The stars are not aligned right now. They need to wait another two months," Annemarie added. "If not, their family will be cursed and forever broken." Allison nodded solemnly. Selene's eyebrows no longer raised at Annemarie's spouts, though she wished that Allison wouldn't take it seriously. Annemarie just liked the attention.

"Well, our children will be great friends either way," Selene said, a small smile on her lips. Allison looked down at her pregnancy bump.

"How much longer do you have?" Allison asked, gesturing to Selene's stomach. Selene's face heated.

"The physician said three months," Selene responded. "But, who knows? My pregnancy is an odd case." An odd case was an understatement. This baby, this beautiful baby, is the first baby ever to be in the womb for over ten months. The longer the months went, the more she wondered what the effects would be. The baby has spent this extra time savoring its powers, taking advantage of its mother's life source. How does that change things? What does that make her baby?

"And your husband?" Allison asked. Selene's lips pursed. She hadn't told her what had happened between her and Tobias, nobody knew aside from the people inside that room, and Keir didn't seem like someone who would confide into his lovers. She didn't know, Selene realized.

"I still send him updates of the baby's progress," Selene responded. It wasn't a lie. "But we have not conversed." About anything. Still, after all this time, after fifteen months, he hadn't responded. She didn't care, not anymore.

"So you're staying here? After you give birth?" Annemarie asked. Selene nodded.

"I can't imagine anything changing at the Night Court any time soon," Selene answered evenly. "If Tobias hasn't responded, it means he's too busy to even consider having his family at the palace. I'm sure my stay with lengthen due to his workload." And fucking another woman. Not making love, she knew it wasn't love, but still touching, caressing, a different woman. Maybe there was a story to it, a reasonable excuse, but it was enough for her to fully move on.

"Oh, good!" Allison said, a smile spreading across her face. "And tell me-" The Great Hall doors banged open loudly. Jameson, who had been at her other side, stood up on his feet as the crowd settled into a staggering silence. Nobody was speaking as a redhead was dragged into the Great Hall. Nobody spoke as she screamed at the top of her lungs. As she tried ripping away from the tight hands that were dragging her across the stone floor.

"Rosalie," Selene said. It had been weeks, weeks since she had even seen her face. She had almost forgotten her, but now she was looking at her and her eyes were wide.

"Please!" Rosalie begged. The men who were holding her didn't even flicker at her. "Please!" It wasn't until she was halfway through the Great Hall did Jameson speak.

"What's going on? What is this?" Jameson hissed. The Great Hall was a time of celebration, not of drama.

"We found the reason the General had arrived," one of the men said. His beard was so scruffy that Selene couldn't see his lips. "It was her. She tipped him off." Suddenly, Rosalie became silent. Her lips were shaking.

And Selene was still as stone.

Selene was sure that Jameson wanted to postpone Rosalie's jurisdiction for another time, but the entire Great Hall was watching now. This didn't just affect him, this affected the entire population. Jameson stiffened as he glanced around the room.

"Okay, amuse me," Jameson said, taking three long strides towards Rosalie. There was a lazy smile on his face. "Amuse me, Rosalie. Why would you ever do such a stupid thing?" Rosalie rose her chin.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," she said, choking down her sobs. Jameson's eyebrows rose calmly.

"You might as well take pride in what you did," Jameson said, shrugging. "You've already been caught." Rosalie's face tightened.

"I don't have to-" One of the guards hit her, hit her straight in the jaw. She screeched out, the pain probably unwavering. Selene shifted in her chair.

Selene turned to Jameson. She could see the confliction in his eyes, the question on what to do.

"Jameson-" And then Rosalie met eyes with her. Her eyes were filled with fury. Filled with pure rage.

"Don't defend me," Rosalie hissed. "Not you." Selene exhaled as she leaned deeper into her chair. Her hands were clinging onto the armrests.

"Have something against the healer, do you?" Jameson asked casually, his eyebrows rising. Rosalie scoffed.

"You guys are so full of it – all of you," Rosalie muttered. "Believing in her bullshit all the time." The audience started to whisper. Jameson's body straightened. Selene thought she was going to puke.

"She threatened me," Selene said to Jameson. She made sure the entire hall could hear her. "It's because of me, Jameson. She tipped him off to…" She tried imagining what would happen to her if Tobias found out. If he knew that she had disobeyed. "Take me away from you all." Any mercy that was left in Jameson's eyes, disappeared instantly. Rosalie didn't argue, instead she sneered.

"You should be there," Rosalie said, her eyes cold. "You don't deserve to be here. You're an outsider." Suddenly, men from all over the hall jumped to their feet. Yelling, booing, begging Jameson to just kill her. Rosalie shrunk back.

"Kill her," one of the men at the long table demanded. Jameson glanced at him at the corner of his eye. "She's a traitor. She tried compromising this entire city." Jameson shook his head.

"I can't," Jameson said, his voice oddly calm. "Execution is a felony punishment." Not even Keir could do it, Selene realized. Only the High Lord, the strongest man in the court, could issue a felony punishment.

"There would have to be a trial," Jameson went on. "And our High Lord would never condone that. Especially because he wouldn't see what she did as a crime." There were outbursts, complaints amongst the crowd to do it anyways.

"We may not like our High Lord," Jameson's voice raised. "But we are loyal to our code!" The voices lowered. Rosalie was shaking.

"Luckily for you, Rosalie," Jameson said slowly, "our hospitality-"

"I'm proxy to my husband," Selene interrupted loudly. Jameson swiveled around. "He made sure I had the same exact powers that he had during our ceremony. I can do anything that he can do during his absence." He thought it was a gesture of love, of commitment. But if Tobias ever believed that the opportunity for her to reign would arise, he would've never given that power. And when she had first been given it, she promised herself that she would never use it.

"He gave you that power?" Jameson asked softly. He was looking her over now, looking at the small girl who had saved so many lives. Who had so much power.

"Yes," Selene said surly. "He did." Jameson's eyes were twinkling. She looked at the crowd, every single one of them. And stood up.

"You have disobeyed the Hewn City, Rosalie-"

"I'll tell Tobias of this! I'll tell him you did this!" Rosalie screamed. She knew what was coming, she knew exactly what Selene was about to say.

"You have compromised our city, put our citizens in danger," Selene continued. "And tried destroying our resources." Rosalie's tears were falling down her face.

"Every time I looked at you, I saw Tobias. I just wanted to be in love without seeing him," Rosalie said. She was begging now. "I wanted to be in love and safe. I didn't want you having control over our-"

"I don't care," Selene said simply. She didn't. "You committed a crime." Rosalie inhaled raggedly.

"You will have a trial," Selene said softly. "And the trial will be of a capital punishment." It would be months, months before they would finally get Rosalie on the stand. But it was enough. It was enough to get back at what she did. The horrible atrocities that she almost did to Selene's people, ripping away the hope that Selene had worked so dearly to keep.

"Goodbye, Rosalie."

~*~ discidium ~*~

She woke up to the sound of screams. Loud, distant screams. She bolted upright, her fingers immediately clinging to the window sill. Her breath shaking, she pulled herself far up enough to put her nose to the window. She could see fires glowing miles and miles away, almost to the entrance of the city, and her people…they were running. Running towards the castle.

"Get up!" A voice said, the door opening with a bang. Selene turned around, looking at the panting Jameson. He looked just the same way as he had at dinner, tidy and clean-cut. But his face was flushed. "Selene, they're here." They. Clythia's army. She hadn't forgotten, she knew they were coming sometime, but –

"What did Keir decide?" Selene asked quickly. She had already left the bed and was putting on a coat. Quickly, as Jameson clung to the doorframe, she put all of her medical supplies into her pouch and zipped it up tightly.

"He has no plan," Jameson breathed. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment. "The bastard told me he had a plan but when we saw her army…" He had lied. Keir had no plan. Where had he been, then? He told everyone he was stocking up on resources, gathering militia. But he had nothing.

And now the Hewn City was under attack.

"Where do you want me to go first?" Selene hissed. "The shop is far away, but if we can find a temporary area to get all these people inside…" Her eyes glanced outside. Most of the civilians were either inside already or dead on the street, but she could still hear screaming at a distance. Painful, sorrowful, screaming.

"Many are in the castle," Jameson said. He looked like he was staring a million miles away. "The lucky ones were able to run in before they attacked. The castle is protected by ancient spells that can't be broken. We are safe." But that meant nothing to her and she knew that that meant nothing to him. There were still people outside, being punished by Tobias's mistakes. By Tobias's lover.

"What do you want me to do first, Jameson?" Selene said again, her voice tight.

"Nothing," Jameson said. His voice was so soft. "Not you. You stay here." She turned towards him sharply. He wouldn't look at her, his eyes were fixated at the window, but she heard those screams. She heard the screeches and slaughter and murder. And she knew why Jameson had come into her room now.

"Don't do this. Don't shut me out because of something I can't control," Selene said. "I'm the only one who can heal those people. Tell me what I can do!" He stood up straight and took a step towards her.

"And what would happen to the rest of us, the ones who survived, if you die trying to save those people?" Jameson snarled suddenly. She flinched. "What do you think Tobias will do with the ones left over when his precious wife is dead at our hands?" Selene didn't even blink.

"You think we are going to lose," Selene said aloud. Jameson snorted.

"Selene, we lost ten minutes ago when she tore through the outer ring of the Hewn City," Jameson said emptily. Now, as she looked over him again, she wondered if he was even still alive inside. "I saw her men take out ten families within five minutes. Everything is on fire. Everything is burning." And nobody woke her. Nobody told her that the Hewn City had been under attack.

"I don't see her stopping even though she won," Selene said. She turned around, staring through her small window. The fires were spreading. Her men were growing closer to the inner city. "She'll destroy this entire city, Jameson." He shook his head.

"It's already destroyed, Selene. We have most of the population in the castle, but I need you to stay here in your room. I need you to stay safe and-" Suddenly, she was on the ground. Jameson had slipped to the ground too as the castle shook viciously. There were screams from below them, voices in the bottom levels of the castle.

"Selene!" Jameson screeched. Thankfully, she had fallen on her back and used the bed to soften her landing. He, on the other hand, had fallen on the floor with a thud. As the castle continued to tremble, she grabbed onto the windowsill and pulled herself up to look at eye level.

Bright bursts of colors were colliding with the walls of the castle, as if they were fighting against the invisible spells that protected them. She was going to kill them, Clythia was going to kill them all and all of whom didn't die, would be enslaved.

"She's going to get all of us," she said aloud, just as the trembling stopped. Thankfully, the palace was still intact. But not for long.

She got to her feet, running around Jameson and darting down the stairs. Behind her, she could hear Jameson shouting her name and tumbling after her. But it wasn't until she made it to the Great Hall, where all the voices came from, did he make it to her side. When she looked at the scene in front of her, Jameson came up from behind her and grabbed her arms. But then he looked too.

It was packed, entirely packed. The only thing that were on the tables were bodies – dead, mangled bodies. People were weeping and holding one another fearfully. Most of them had some sort of injury – whether it was a cut or a leg that was half cut off. Some were dying right in front of her, slowly fading away.

But her eyes shifted in front of her. All of whom who were stable enough were circled around the main table. There yells and cusswords being thrown into the air. Quickly, Selene darted through the people as Jameson begged her to wait, but she didn't stop until she made eyes with Keir.

He was holding the bowl. The beautiful, blue bowl that she had seen at her meeting. He was holding it fearfully. Jameson never told her what it was, or what it did, but just by the looks on people's faces…her face paled.

"Don't you dare break that!" A woman cried. Her face was puffy from the tears. "This is our last hope." Selene wasn't entirely sure if he was planning on breaking it, but Keir was holding it with his dear life.

"Keir," Jameson said warningly. He grew close to him. "What are you doing?" Keir's jaw clenched.

"Our army is still intact. We still have a thousand men ready to fight. I will not have-"

"If that's true, then how is Clythia tearing through our city like nobody is here?" Jameson hissed, his teeth clenched. Keir huffed.

"We are perfectly fine!"

"My brother is dead!" Someone shouted at distance. Keir scrunched back fearfully.

"Maybe if you all helped fight for your city, these people wouldn't be dead!" Keir yelled back. Though others seemed insulted by the comment, she saw that many agreed.

"If you believe that, then put down the bowl." The voice came from the quiet man at her meetings. His voice was silky and calm.

"No!" Keir said. "I will not be intimidated by-" A thunder silenced him. For a moment, the whole castle trembled.

"We're all going to die, aren't we?" A man said. His voice was gruff but he seemed to have lost hope. "We have nothing left." Keir looked at him for a moment, holding his gaze, but then he noticed Selene. His eyes lingered on her.

"Maybe if we trade the girl-"

"Over my dead body!" Jameson said, going in front of her. Quickly, she gripped her baby bump. Though nobody lunged for her, she could see in their eyes that if it weren't Jameson's objections, she would be long gone.

"We need to give her the bowl," the man closest to Keir said. "It's our only hope." Selene blinked. She finally got it now.

"Forfeiting?" Selene asked. "The bowl is a white fla-" Keir rose the bowl above his head, close to smashing it, but Jameson screamed.

"That is our only communication to our High Lord," Jameson said. "Our only one. Why don't we at least try it?" Selene blinked. Keir rolled his eyes dramatically.

"That is an old fable," Keir growled. "It has never worked."

"What do you mean?" Selene asked. People were quiet. Jameson exhaled.

"The bowl is our call to help if we are under attack. It's a way of contacting the High Lord," Jameson responded dryly. "It's also a symbol of our connection to the Night Court. If we give it away, it means we give up the city. We give up our loyalty to the High Lord."

"It's just a story!" Keir's voice roared. "We have gone through this before. The High Lord has never actually answered." But it didn't matter. Because Clythia saw it as a symbol. If they gave her the bowl, than that meant they renounced their loyalty to the crown.

"Give me the bowl!" Selene shouted suddenly. Everybody around her – even Jameson – flinched. "Give it to me, you pious fool!" Kier snarled at her.

"I will not take orders from a-" She swung the nearest plate at him. It hit him square in the head, making him stumble back stupidly. The plate was nothing, nothing, compared to what he could do to her. The people around her probably thought she was out of her league, getting in a fight with Kier, of all people. But as Kier looked at her again, his teeth clenched, he paused.

"This is an emergency! People are dying!" Selene said louder. Nobody, nobody dared to interrupt her. "Let me contact Tobias. He won't answer you of all people. You need to-"

"He won't answer you either. Don't you understand? He won't answer any of us!" Kier argued. For once, she thought she heard…sorrow in his voice. Like he loved the Court of Nightmares too, and it killed him to watch it get destroyed. "None of us. Not even you. Because this place could burn in flames and his world wouldn't change, girl. He would lose nothing."

"I am his wife."

"A wife is replaceable."

"Give it to her, Kier," Jameson decided. His voice was gruff. "Give her a fucking chance." Kier's eyes were wide with shock. And Selene had to admit, she was surprised when Kier passed her the bowl. The silver, glowing bowl. Filled with a swirling, blue liquid. She let out a shaky breath.

"Tobias," she said, her voice nearly inaudible. Every eye that was watching her felt like a million pounds on her back. "Tobias. Tobias!" The blue liquid swirled harder. Swift, faster. So fast that she could barely hold the bowl. It didn't help, though, that her fingers were trembling. Where would he be? It had been fifteen months. Fifteen whole months without a single response. But how long was it for him? Five, maybe four, months? Certainly, that was long enough to miss her. It was long enough for him to get the hundreds of letters she sent him. It was long enough to kill Clythia, long enough to want to see his unborn child. Long enough to create a plan that includes his wife being at his side.

Long enough to know that she would die here, die in this hell hole and be remade into something fiercer, before she waited eighteen months.

"Is that…" It was. Through the blue swirls, she saw two eyes. Two very dark, almost black, eyes, staring at her. His eyes held her gaze but he looked at her like she was a brick wall. Not his wife.

"We need help," Selene said sternly. "There-there was an invasion. People are dying, Tobias. We need backup, extra resources. We need you to help us." The eyes blinked. Clearly, he was listening. But yet, there was nothing but coldness that reflected back at her. Not love, not care. But the eyes tensed at her face, scrolling around rapidly. Impatient, annoyed. Like she was wasting his time.

"Tobias-" And then they were gone. Disappeared into the blue swirls, like they hadn't even been there at all. People around her waited, waited for a response, but Selene had had enough. She rose the bowl into the air and threw it to the ground. There was a wave of squeaks as it shattered against the marble floor. Protests yelled at all ends, cursewords flinging at her.

"He's not going to help us," Selene said, turning around slowly. "He can't…" Waste soldiers for the Court of Nightmares. It would be a waste of lives to him, lives that would be more productive elsewhere. But not to her. "We have to fight for ourselves. Jameson, round up the remaining soldiers from outside. Maddox, get me my emergency bottles." Keir leaned closer to her.

"Have you lost your fucking mind? We can't just round up my last men. If they leave-"

"Unless your men want to be blown up, I would suggest you move them," Selene said, just as coolly. "Because I'm making a bomb."

~*~ discidium ~*~

It only took her ten minutes to make it. It took every last bit of medicine she had left. It was her most reactive mix. All they had to do was light it on fire and it would blow up.

"Are you sure about this?" Jameson asked as she opened the door to the roof of the palace. He was carrying the large package behind her, while she was carrying a lighter. In other hand was a long piece of bendable string. All they needed to do was to light the bomb fast enough for it to go into the air and fling it to the opposite side of the Hewn City.

"No. I have absolutely no idea how it would even work." Jameson went ashen. He took a careful step towards her.

"Look, I went too far earlier, but I'm serious," Jameson said softly. "The right thing to do is to stay back. The chance-"

"The right thing to do, apparently, is to send your pregnant wife to the Hewn City. The right to do, according to our High Lord, is to be obedient, quiet, and invisible. The right thing to do, if you are so earnest, is to let Clythia take over because apparently, that's what Tobias wants," Selene hissed. The anger, the hot, boiling anger, was rising inside of her. She wondered if Tobias, miles and miles away, could feel it.

"If we die because of this," Jameson finished, "I want it to be together. No sacrifice. No dying for one another. We both die. We both go out as heroes." Because that's what they were, Selene realized. They were friends. Despite their bantering, despite their fights and pushing of buttons, they were friends. Best friends. Better than Rosalie. Far better than Leon. He protected her, and she protected him.

"It's a deal," Selene said, a small smile on her lips. "Now, here's my plan. We light it, we pull it against the piece of rope, fling into the air like a slingshot, and land it right there." And she pointed miles and miles away, where the core of Clythia's army was.

"Tobias will hear about this," Jameson said. "Especially if we actually survive this." Selene laughed. An honest laugh.

"Good," she said. "Now help me with this slingshot."

~*~ discidium ~*~

It blew them up like fireworks. After Jameson and Selene had flung out the bomb, huddling against each other as they counted the seconds to their deaths, the bomb hit the core of Clythia's army. All of whom didn't die, which was most, ran. Ran like ants. Ran like the true cowards they were and minutes later, they were gone. They were done with. They had won.

"You did it without him," Jameson said later. About five hours had passed since the battle and now they were all around the palace, celebrating their victory. She had been leaning against one of the outdoor pillars, watching as their people sang and dance. She sipped on her drink.

"Keir didn't thank me," she said, a ghost of a smile on her lips. Jameson shook his head.

"Not Keir," Jameson said. "Tobias." Her smile dropped instantly. It wasn't that she missed him, or that she loved him, it was that she felt like a traitor still. Even though she earned her place, she still felt like a horrible, disgusting traitor.

"He won't hear of it much," Selene said honestly. "It won't matter." His eyebrows furrowed down. He leaned closer to her. She flushed.

"Why is that?" Jameson said. "Did you finally get a response from him? Has he told you whether you're staying at the Hewn Ci-"

"My child is a boy." It was the first time she had said it aloud. Jameson inched back, his eyes wide as he looked down at her bump. It was no hiding what he was now – no hiding the beautiful child inside of her.

"How do you know?" Jameson asked.

"I took the gender test again," Selene said. "My last physician was an absolute moron, hence why I made him leave the Hewn City so early during my stay. I decided to check for myself and now I…" A boy. A boy with her blood, her wings, but Tobias's name. Tobias's throne.

"And you think he won't want him," Jameson added emptily. She brought the drink to her lips.

"The boy will be better here," she said. "Safer. Farther away. Far enough that Tobias will never look for him." Jameson's eyes were sparkling as he looked her over, head to toe. Trying to read the emotions on her face, the feelings that had been building up inside of her, and he knew. He knew what she was feeling, she knew what she wanted.

"I want to show you something," Jameson said. Her eyebrows furrowed down. "Follow me." And so she did. They walked back into the castle, leaving loud echoes as they walked upstairs. The cheering and celebrations of the crowd had was nearly inaudible once they made it to the room he was trying to lead her to.

She walked in. It was a small room – a suitcase, a desk, some cabinets. She waited patiently as he went around her, shuffling through various drawers. Until finally he held out his arm. She looked down at his closed palm.

"What-" and then he opened it. It was nothing – just a silver token. Her eyes narrowed.

"It's the rebel group's signature," Jameson said. "I thought you deserved it. You saved us." She looked down at it for a long moment.

"I'm not apart of the-"

"I know," Jameson said. "But you saved them. You saved us. And you'll never be recognized by the crown so I just thought…" It was something. Something that recognized her sacrifice, her duty. At least some sign that she would be remembered. She would always be remembered to someone.

So she took it.

"Thank you," she whispered. She hadn't realized that there were tears in her eyes until she looked up at Jameson. He was close to her, dangerously close to her.

She stepped towards him. Dangerous, dangerous territory. Because she knew what he was thinking in his head. That he should walk away, that they should both walk away. That this was impossible. But her fingers went to his face, stroking his cheek. Feeling his warmth. He was still as stone as she looked at him, taking her time to finally see him. To see what could have been.

"I'm afraid if I breathe too hard," Jameson said slowly, "then you'll leave. I'm afraid that one day I'll wake up, and you'll be gone." She shook her head.

"I'll always be here, Jameson," she promised. "With you." He closed the gap between them, feeling her now. Finally breathing.

His fingers were warm as they touched her lips. She let them feel around the curve of her lips, brushing against them softly. And as he grew closer, his green eyes having a glint of awe, she didn't look away. She could feel his body heat press against her, and didn't even stammer as his hands lowered to her waist, following the shape of her body carefully. His eyes dropped down, looking at all the places she knew he wanted to. At the uncovered areas, at the body she bravely showed, at the outlines of her body underneath the few areas that cloth covered. His breath deepened, breezing against her lips. His hand was trembling as it went around her baby bump. And his smile, his smirk, had dropped. If anything, he looked in awe. In awe that she was still standing there, in awe that she hadn't walked away.

"If you weren't here, Selene, this place would never be what it is," Jameson whispered. "We'd still be rotting away but since you've arrived…life has changed. These people have changed. The Court of Nightmares is alive for the first time in a millennium."

"It took me so long to realize," Selene said slowly, "that I wasn't meant to be there. That, after months of resenting myself and trying to change myself piece by piece, I realized I would never fit into the Night Court. Not because they would never accept me for my race, but because I'd never accept them for who they are. Because they don't know pain or struggle or how to survive. They don't know what it's like to be powerless. The only reason they're at the top is because everybody else is at the bottom. To thrive in the Night Court would mean I would have to oppress all those people, all of these people, and they would call me weak because I wouldn't be able to do it. But they don't know strength. They don't even know what it looks like." Even though the room was dark, she could see Jameson's eyes shining brightly.

"He was terrified of you," Jameson whispered aloud. "He saw it, he saw the strength that was slowly building inside of you, a strength that he didn't have, and it scared him. That's why he sent you away. Not because you weren't worthy, Selene. Not because you weren't accepted. But because you were fearless." She held his gaze for a moment, taking in the depth of his words. Of the emotion swirling in his eyes.

And then suddenly her lips were crushed against his. Warm, soft, but hungry. For a second, she was scared. She was scared that he wouldn't kiss her back – after all, she was married. She was taken. But her love towards Tobias was toxic. It kept her glued to him, it was like a drug that made her lesser. But Jameson…she felt like she was an equal. Like she deserved to be loved, rather it being a privilege.

He kissed her back, holding her face in his hands, trembling as they tripped against the wall. And as he kissed her over and over again, she felt the strings snip. The string that made her want to be better for Tobias, the string that made her feel inferior to others, the string that made her feel like she would never be good enough. Because, to Jameson, she was. She didn't owe him anything – he would take whatever she gave him, whatever she was willing to share. He didn't have to have her fully, he just had to have her now.

She could feel the clothes slowly unravel off the both of them. They were both naked within seconds, fully aroused and their breaths quickening, but he paused. He hands were situated on her baby bump, rubbing it softly.

"It won't hurt him," Jameson said softly, and it sounded like it pained him to say it aloud. "But if it makes you uncomfortable-" No. No. She had to feel him. She had to feel him inside of her, filling her, making her feel like she wasn't just someone's pet. She wanted to feel truly loved, not some addiction that someone had to her.

He must've saw it on her face because he entered inside of her, causing a moan to escape. Just at the sound of her voice, his body tightened against her, making him let out a shaky breath as well. And as he continued, she realized she had never felt so aroused. When Tobias made love to her, she was practically a child. Her body wasn't as drenched as it was now, her body hadn't been clenching Tobias near as much as it was clenching Jameson. Her body wasn't ready for sex, despite what she might have told herself. She might have wanted Tobias, but she wanted him because he wanted her. Not because he truly aroused her.

She could feel every bit of him inside her, and she wanted it. She wanted all of it. She wanted him. And when they were both finished, making a total mess of themselves, she saw him got on his knees in front of her.

"Has your husband ever-" She felt her mouth dry up.

"No. No, he-he's a High Lord. It's against his values to go on his knees during sex," she said quietly, her voice cracking. It sounded so stupid, so stupid that she had let him have so much power in their relationship. She had gone on her knees many times for him – in their bedroom, in his office, wherever he wanted because she wanted to make him satisfied. Yet, he had never gone on his knees for her.

"Good," he said, before putting his mouth to her and making her moan harder than she ever had before.

~*~ discidium ~*~

There was tea brewing on the stove. The herbs were a new mixture that Allison created – Selene didn't even need to add a sweetener. Selene's hand remained on her baby bump as she leaned up on her tippy toes to meet the top cabinet and grab the jar. Jameson mentioned that he'd be swinging by, something to do with new weeds they had grown, so she wanted to get the tea settled now. She was far enough along that Maddox was earnest about her not spending too much time at the clinic, only because lifting heavy medical equipment and helping people to their cots were too difficult for a pregnant woman. On top of that, the last person that they wanted to get sick was the pregnant healer.

She didn't know where that left her. She already knew that she'd go back to work almost immediately after giving birth. Jameson already said that he would be willing to help out, and Maddox loved children more than she loved people. She had already bought a high chair that matched the wooden table one of the architects created for her after she had cured his family from Petten Pox. The apartment had a second room for the baby, and it was nearly full of baby presents that had been dropped off by random citizens of the Hewn City.

But Jameson? She didn't know where it ended with him. She didn't know what he was, and who he was to her. Who she was to him. Some days they would be sitting at her kitchen table for hours, making future plans for the Hewn City, but other days, they hung out in leisure. They hadn't talked about their night, they pretended it didn't even happen. After all, she was pregnant with another man's child, a man who was Jameson's utmost enemy. And she figured that once things calmed down, they would figure out a way. But at least, it was calm now.

And it was then, as she put the tea on the table, did she hear the knock at the door.

"Hold on, I'm on my way," Selene said. Or maybe they'd talk about it today, she thought. Maybe they would address the situation. After all, Jameson had spent many nights there, either eating dinner together or taking her out into the nightlife. It was complicated, she was pregnant, but she was also one of them. She was a citizen of the Hewn City now, and for once, nothing seemed impossible. Even seventeen months pregnant, nothing was impossible.

She opened the door with a smile and said, "Ja-" And then froze. Her eyes fell down to the figure, looking him up and down cautiously. He looked the same but….not the same. His hair was still brown, but it was pulled back tightly, unlike the natural waves that once flowed down his neck. His eyes were darker than she remembered and he looked oddly skinny in his uniform. She never noticed how much tanner he was compared to her. There was no smile on his face.

Her hand clung onto the doorframe while his hand clung to his walking stick.

"Hello, Selene," Leon said.

It was like seeing a ghost. It had only been a few months for him – just long enough for them to miss her. But he didn't understand how long it had been for her. She was far past missing them. She learned not to just survive without them, but how to live without them. She made a family that wasn't blood, an occupation that gave her true power. Seeing him there now…he didn't know that she didn't believe she would ever go back. That she had stopped dreaming, had stopped waiting, for him to save her. She let go of the idea of them being family, and started living a life that she made by scratch. She hadn't even thought of their faces in weeks - maybe even months. And now, seeing him, she couldn't breathe. It was like looking into a nightmare that she had once saw as a dream. Because now that she had joined the Court of Nightmares, now that she saw the Court of Nightmares as her permanent home, she didn't want to leave. There was no way she could go back to their world and be the same person.

"What are you doing here?" She didn't hide the iciness from her voice. He didn't twitch, he didn't even seem surprised by her unwelcoming tone, but she could feel the unfamiliar coldness come off him as well. Like, within the past few months, he had turned into a darker, different person just like she had.

"He wants you back." Her blood ran cold. He. Not Tobias, not your husband, not my brother. He. As if they were talking about a complete stranger, and not the love of her life and certainly not his brother.

"Why?" She demanded. This time, his eyes flickered. He could hear the anger now - the pure, stinging anger that she felt towards the Night Court. The ungrateful, unfamiliar sneer. That she wasn't just uneasy about leaving and going back to her old home, she didn't want to leave at all. She wanted to stay at the Court of Nightmares.

"It's your eighth month," Leon reminded her as she stood in silence. "He promised to bring you back before you gave birth." Promise. She almost laughed at that. She hadn't known it then, she was too naive. But it wasn't a promise, it was a sentence. She was just a doll that he kept to make him feel better, and right when she began to disagree with him, when she became an inconvenience, he sent her away. Her hands curled around her stomach protectively. It was then that Leon glanced around, eyeing the outside of the townhouse and even catching a glance into her foyer. Seeing her world. Looking at her clothes, her makeup, the way she glowered at him. His lips twitched down, suppressing a grimace. Maybe even disgust.

"It's time to go." This time, his voice was harsh. It wasn't a question. It was a demand.

~*~ discidium ~*~

Just in case you were wondering, that was 56 pages. Honestly, I think I deserve a review. Or twenty.