"So," Vasan continued his story as he and Cassandra sat together at the shanty, wooden table near the town center, "that was when I discovered that the ginyol that was visiting my homestead was actually a minyol!" He laughed a bit as he brought his hand to his mouth. "I could hardly believe it myself."

Cassandra sat there, head lowered and arms crossed, slouched back in her seat. Her black gown was not as comfortable as the previous attire that she had worn. Before they ventured out, Milo informed her that Lia was vocal about not wanting Cassandra to wear anymore of her outfits. Thankfully, her dress had been cleaned and was ready to use. Vasan was beyond excited the moment that he saw her come down the stairs wearing it – much to her annoyance.

After over an entire hour of being in her company; he had hoped that some talking and downtime would have helped ease the brunette's sour mood. Unfortunately, their discussions had not yielded any favorable results.

She looked uninterested as ever – if not miserable. Finally hearing a moment of silence, she picked up on the conclusion of his dreadfully annoying recount of whatever stupid event had taken place. "Are you done now?"

Vasan lifted a cup of the mioclak that he had poured them and brought it up to his mouth, but not before motioning to hers as well. "You haven't drunk any of your mioclak yet? Are you not thirsty?"

"I already told you…" She lifted her head, glaring at him angrily. "I don't like it. It tastes disgusting."

"Oh." He tried to remedy the situation as quickly as possible. "Is there something else you may like? Vioclak? Nioclak?"

"Wine."

"What is that?"

Cassandra sat forward, resting her chin upon her hand as she gazed around the area. "Something your world –" She suddenly corrected herself. "Town does not have."

Vasan sat his drink down, feeling as if he shouldn't consume any more if she wasn't enjoying hers. Watching the pale woman's amber eyes float around, he decided to change the conversation with a question. "So, where are you from, again?"

With her attention locked on the villagers around them, Cassandra's eyes suddenly pressed shut. She rotated her head slightly towards him, raising both her brows as she cracked an agitated smile. Her eyes then sprang open, still looking away. "You ask too many questions; do you know that?"

The man sat back, rethinking his strategy. He could not see why she was being so hostile to him. "I was simply curious is all." He flicked some of his mid-length hair away from his forehead. "I'm from this region; Joulin."

Cassandra remained expressionless as she continued to look about. It was like she was deliberately ignoring him. "That's great…"

"Are you from Deas?"

She paused for a moment before the inner corners of her eyebrows pinched together. "What? Where is that?"

The name sounded vaguely familiar. She could recall Leta mentioning something about such a place during their game, though she had not given it too much mind in the events that followed. "No," she said. "I'm not from there."

"Then you must be from Tyillioum," Vasan suggested, prompting Cassandra to shrug her shoulders in the most uncaring way possible.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Does it really matter?"

"I was simply curious is all," he responded.

"You said that already…"

"Yes," he nervously returned to his cup to sip his drink without thinking. Once he swallowed the exceptionally large gulp of liquid, he cleared his throat again and sat the container back down. A smile pulled across his face for a second before he threw it away, fearing that she would judge it. Thankfully – or unfortunately – she still had yet to glance back at him.

He wondered, perhaps, that he may have driven the young lady to boredom by talking too much about himself. Throughout his entire story, all she did was groan and clench her fingers against her cup. Maybe she would lighten up if she got to talk about whatever it was that she liked. "So," he asked her, watching her roll her eyes as he did so, "what are your hobbies?"

Cassandra did not speak, merely taking hold of her cup and angling it down on the ground. Vasan watched as she steadily poured its contents onto the dirt below. The subtle splash of the mioclak as it seeped into the soil played like a tiny river stream. The young man cleared his throat again as he awaited her next response.

As soon as the final drop had fallen from the rim, Cassandra returned the wooden cup to the table; a loud donk sounded as it connected. A brief moment of silence followed, broken only by him clearing his throat for the third time.

"Would you stop doing that?" She told him.

"Uhm, stop doing what, exactly?"

"This…" She loudly mimicked the sound of coughing before finally looking at him. "If you're going to choke to death, be quiet about it or find somewhere else to do it."

"I'm sorry." A fourth cough escaped his trachea without him even thinking. It was a stress mechanism for the man at this point – the only way he could steady himself against the uncertain tide of the woman's sea. As soon as the first buckle kicked out from his lips, he could see the fury igniting behind her eyes. He had already messed up without even thinking.

Cassandra looked like she was about to yell, but settled on clenching both of her hands on top of the table as tightly as possible. For her, she was not as concerned about his well-being as she was conscious of causing another scene in this town. She had not forgotten what happened last time, and they were once again in the center of everything. It would be nothing short of ironic for the same event to repeat itself – with Vasan of all people being the recipient of it like before.

If I don't kill this man today…

"Enough…" She bared her teeth, "…coughing."

"Yes." He nodded vigorously. "I am sorry. I did not mean to make you angry."

She stared at him some more, hoping that her ferocious gaze would be sufficient to cement an understanding of what was surely a very dense skull. Cassandra huffed a long breath before sitting back, opting to provide some form of an answer to him. "My hobbies are being left alone and unbothered. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

"Well," he said as if he did not grasp the concept of what she meant, "what does that involve you doing?"

She bit her bottom lip, unsure if he was toying with her or merely stupid. Saving her anger, she sided with the latter and began to tap her fingers against the boards of the tabletop. "I like to hunt – if you must know."

"Oh!" His face grew excited. "My family comes from a long line of hunters! It all started generations ago when my great ancestor, Marcol, first settled in this region and –" He ceased his story as soon as he could see Cassandra's hatred beginning to boil. She was not in the mood for any more of his ramblings and thankfully, he was able to pick up on it. "That's not important." He waved the lesson in family history off. "What do you prefer to hunt?"

"Those that annoy me," she spoke through her teeth. Cassandra could feel herself losing grip on what little remained of her patience. The man's relentless attempts to illicit and continue conversations were agonizing. At this point, she was well beyond regretful of having decided to spend the afternoon with him.

She could not understand why he was so drawn to her. She thought she had done a good job of scaring him away for good during their first encounter. Why in the world would he consider her to be approachable?

"Oh," he gave a hearty chuckle, "I see what you did there."

Cassandra immediately gave a loud groan that cut through the peaceful air of the town. Everyone around her began to turn their heads in her direction. Many she did not recognize – but some looked like they had been in attendance during her last incident here. She could already feel their judging eyes prying at her.

A snarl kicked up on her face as her voice rumbled, audible only to Vasan, "Why can't anyone in this town mind their own business?"

"Well," Vasan looked around, noticeably embarrassed, "with all due respect; you did warrant their attention with the level of noise you just made."

Her eyelids curled at him. "What?"

"You were loud and people looked at you. It is simple as that." He tried to fake a smile but pulled it away when he realized that his verbiage was not the most beneficial to his cause. Cassandra was only beginning to grow angrier at him. It was at that moment he relived the view of her face above his, screaming down at him in a show of dominance.

He was both equally afraid and drawn to it.

To him; she was a great risk with a greater reward. There was just something about her that he could not shake. He was no ladies' man by far and it was not like she was just someone that he had yet to have. The way she spoke and articulated her emotions with her facial expressions captivated the man. She was so mysterious in her appearance. Her moonlight skin and nighttime hair were unlike anything he had ever witnessed before in his life. The addition of the marking on her forehead was the cherry on top.

Such artwork was blessed to be a part of her body and her beauty. All of these attributes formed the image of the kind of woman that he never knew existed. She was taller than him by a little bit. Her slender figure and defined cheekbones were a merging of a queen and her throne – one that did not desire a king at all.

She was a book without pages that somehow managed to hold the most captivating story. He desperately wanted to read it, but only she could allow him to do so. To be sitting across from her right now at this table was a feat all in and of itself. In all his days, he never would have imagined that someone like her would have accepted his offer.

And now – he was at risk of losing it all.

Vasan quickly jumped to correct himself. "But, yes! You are right! Everyone here is so intrusive in the lives of others. Surely, you are not the first person to be loud. Why must it matter?"

Cassandra raised an eyebrow at his perplexing explanation.

Why is he so weird?

"You promised me food." She ignored his response, returning to the most important matter at hand. "I am starving."

"Uhm." He picked up his cup to take another sip, not realizing that some of his mioclak had spilled out along the way and splattered along the table. Cassandra became well aware of his messy error; watching in agitation as it happened. "What would you like to eat?"

She remained still; motionless like a crouched jaguar. "What is there to eat?" The final syllable of her sentence clung to her tongue like a drawn arrow – launching at him as soon as her teeth parted.

"It depends on what you prefer. Do you prefer to consume only vegetables and fruits?"

Upon hearing that, Cassandra inhaled what may have been the deepest breath she had taken since she arrived in this world. "Vasan," her voice addressed him semi-calmly, "before I flip this table over and hurt you, I'd prefer a nice, large meal consisting of dead animals – if that makes sense to you."

She watched as her words found their mark inside the man's head. He could tell that she was deathly serious about that threat; her hunger exacerbating her drive more than anything else. "Ah!" He stood up. "I know just the thing!"

"And they were out of ginyol?" Cassandra narrowed her eyes at the strange hunk of meat that had been displayed on her dish. The texture of the food was similar to the dried muscle of the dhin Milo had cooked up for them the previous night. Unlike the dhin, however, was the light-yellow color of the skin and how soft and flexible it was. Most of all – it did not smell the least bit appetizing.

"Yes, they were." Vasan handed her a fork and – reluctantly – a small knife. "I'm sure you'll like this."

Cassandra swiped both utensils from his hands and brought the meal closer to her as she prepared to try it. While she normally wouldn't mind whatever was in front of her when hunger came knocking, she could feel the scent of the food offsetting her natural needs. "It smells disgusting."

"Are you sure?"

She reared her head up at him. "Are you stupid?"

"What?"

"It smells disgusting," her voice began to rise, though she was cognizant to keep it between the two of them. "Of course I am sure!" Her eyes glanced down at her food once more. "What is this creature?"

"Paceb; an aquatic invertebrate," he explained. Cassandra was not well-versed in scientific terminology, but she had been around for many of Bela's ramblings throughout the years to understand what he was telling her.

A sea insect. He presented me with a sea insect…

"Do you not like it?" Vasan asked.

"What is that you have there?" She inquired about the dark, roasted hunk of meat displayed on his plate.

"Bintoyn; quite the common herbivore in Joulin. I grew up eating this as a child and it –" He stopped when Cassandra swapped their plates and began eating the bintoyn without another word to be said.

Watching as she tore into the food, Vasan could not muster the fortitude to voice his objection to her actions. Instead, he took to cutting up the paceb and taking his first bite. To him, such a dish was satisfying enough – but the bintoyn was a personal favorite. Cassandra did not look all that enthused by the meal, but she seemed to tolerate it more than she would have with her previous option.

"So…" Vasan picked up his cup, swirling what was left of its contents around as his date kept her eyes strictly away from him. He took a breath and then a swig, setting the cup back down. There wasn't much mioclak left and he'd have to find another mechanism to channel his growing nervousness around her. "How does the bintoyn taste?"

With food still in her mouth, Cassandra lent him the small courtesy of a response – albeit with shreds of cooked animal dangling from her lips. "Eh."

It wasn't as good as ginyol, but it was leaps above the foul smell of the sea insect across from her. She never enjoyed the taste of seafood – likely due to her mother's repulsive brother, Salvatore Moreau.

While Heinsberg was disgusting in mind and attitude; Moreau was the same in appearance. Throughout the years, she and her other uncle did not have much contact with each other. Alcina was very strict about him being in the castle, as he often tended to leave a horrible mess whenever he was there. The smell of him was enough to make her want to pass on her dinner – likely the only thing in the world that could accomplish that.

There was one day he was in their castle – his final day there – that he had vomited inside Alcina's upstairs wine room without warning. Her mother's ghastly scream could be heard through the mountains. Cassandra never forgot the image of him hobbling out of the castle, sobbing as he did so. It made for a good laugh until she saw the mess.

Needless to say – seafood was not on the menu for another year.

"Do you not like that either?" Vasan peered over to see how much she had eaten thus far. "I can find you something else."

Swallowing what was already in her mouth, Cassandra shook her head; her wavy hair draped down the opening of her hood. "I've had better. Much better."

"I am sorry you're not enjoying the food. If there was any ginyol to be had, I swear, I would have gotten it for you."

She reached across the table, took his cup, and sipped on the mioclak left inside. As much as she detested the drink; it was good enough to wash down the dry meat down her gullet. Cassandra's amber eyes peeked at him from above the rim. Her long, black eyelashes crowned their beautiful glow. While she had no sweet intentions toward him at all – her demeanor at the moment did nothing to help ease his desire for her.

Her voice spoke so smoothly – almost like a lullaby. "Promises promises…"

"Uhm…" He did not know what else to say. The man could only surrender himself to whatever it was that she chose to follow up with. Her gaze narrowed at him – keen to pick up on the hesitation.

"Cat got your tongue?" She asked in the same tone.

Gulping, Vasan's brow twitched. "What?"

Dropping down an octave or two, Cassandra's mellow voice flattened out, "You've never heard that expression before?"

"No, I can't say that I have. Who is Cat and why would they have my tongue?"

I…I really can't anymore with this…

"Ugh…never mind." She sat the cup on the table and slid it across to him. Vasan moved to re-take it, sighing when he realized that it was now empty. "So," she looked around, "now that we are done eating, what is there to do for fun?"

He glanced down at his still mostly-intact plate of food. His instinct told him to mention the obvious, but he was well aware that she already knew. There was nothing to gain from it. All it would do is further agitate her. To him; it was a decent sign that she was at least willing to do something else with him.

Why complicate it, he rationed?

"There is a group of people who are practicing art on the other side of the town. They often congregate around this time to do their work. Some of the others find enjoyment in watching their progress." Vasan's face lit up as another idea popped up in his brain. "We could try our hand at painting together!"

She immediately shook her head – shutting down any chance of such activities in the process. She did not want to attempt such a thing, knowing that she'd likely get angry at how bad she was at it. For the sake of not tossing the canvas at the ground – or someone else – she sought to avoid it altogether.

"No," she said. "Something else."

"There is a library where we can –"

"No. Next idea!"

"Mr. Wright is going to recite poetry in remembrance of his deceased wife, Calethia, at the Tree of Acomb later today. All are welcome to attend."

"How boring…" She tapped her gloved fingers against the wood again. "Is there nothing fun? What do you people do all day?"

Vasan was out of ideas as he did not have a clue as to what would satisfy her. He was beginning to grow mildly frustrated, feeling as if she was being of no help at all. However, he did not want to risk upsetting her. "What is it that you partook in your town?"

….

"Nothing." The speed of her tapping increased.

"You did nothing at all?" He was perplexed. "I find that hard to believe. Surely, you must have done something with the others there? Did your town hold activities together?"

With a low grunt that bordered on genuine thought and pure sarcasm, Cassandra ceased her tapping and rested her chin against the side of her thumb and forefinger. "They went to church. That's it. I took no part in it as I…wasn't always around them."

"Oh." He seemed to become interested in her statement. "You're not a religious lady?"

"I have my beliefs." She parted her lips with a breath. "Shall we leave it at that?"

"Of course," he obliged.

In truth; Cassandra and her sisters never took part in the organized religion that the other villagers abided so strictly to. The daughters were forbidden from entering the settlement for a multitude of reasons – mainly their instability around others. Alcina was strict about Cassandra's boundaries during the warmer seasons. She was not supposed to venture too far from the castle, but as had to stay away from the perimeter of the village too.

She detested those people as much as Bela and Daniela did. To them – they were nothing more than livestock. So dirty and beneath the daughters. The village had nothing to offer any of the noblewomen and to be seen in their company was an insult to the standard that House Dimitrescu set. Mother Miranda had also been vocal to Alcina about Cassandra's antics.

Somehow or another – the prophet knew just how troublesome the brunette could get. Alcina had directly mentioned that any complications that Miranda had to deal with would come down upon her. Freedom came at the cost of continued obedience and Mother Miranda was not the one that Cassandra wanted to anger.

Staying away from the town was simple and so she did just that.

Alcina's relationship as Miranda's daughter also provided a different avenue for the three sisters. As kin of the lord herself; they were seen more as extended family. Respect was without question, but they did not have to recite that drawn-out prayer for every single aspect of their lives. A mention of their gratitude for Miranda at dinner from time to time was enough. Alcina set the bar for how it was to be performed and they followed suit.

They knew of the Black God, but Miranda's speeches were reserved for the village people. There was no need to learn much about the prophecies, according to Alcina. As far as they were concerned; their lives were meant to go on forever. There was no need to worry about salvation.

"Mother Miranda has saved me, and in doing so, has saved you," Alcina would often say to her daughters. "We are different than them."

Cassandra got up from her seat without hesitation. "This conversation is boring me. If you cannot think of something fun, then I will find it myself." She left the table, venturing away to seek out any form of entertainment.

Vasan followed after her. "Hey! Wait up!"

Why doesn't he get the picture? This man is insufferable!

Huffing a small groan, Cassandra trotted along, scanning around to find something that would occupy her time. There were all manners of stands available that offered goods and food. Her materialistic needs were nothing below average; as she often fancied herself as a purveyor of unique items – notably weapons.

The scurrying of footsteps sped up from behind her, coming to a screeching halt as soon as she heard his voice behind her ear. "Cassandra, do you see something that you like?"

She rolled her shoulders back, annoyed that he remained so persistent about interacting with her. She had hoped that her constant degrading of him would be enough to shake him off. If the man gave up on himself and gone away, she wouldn't have minded some solitude for the time being. Yet, in the company of everyone else in the town, she loathed the idea of being by herself.

"Does anyone sell weapons?" She turned to him with a sudden glimmer in her eye and a mischievous grin to boot. Puzzled at her question, Vasan could only stumble on his words once again.

"I…uh, don't believe so?" He said as she adopted a strong expression of annoyance and disappointment. As she began to turn away from him, he interjected with some more information. "But, wait! There's a knife maker who lives here, yes! Samuel – he's an expert at his craft."

In that instant – Cassandra's interest elevated. Her brows lifted and that grin was back in all its wide glory. "Oh! Well then, take me to him."

Samuel watched as the brunette closely inspected the shape of one of his blades with her glove removed. The old man smiled, bundling up his weathered skin as he saw her eyes narrowing down at the edge of the metal – scrutinizing it for even the slightest defect. His elderly voice escaped his mouth, commenting on the sight at hand. "I've never seen a lady so interested in these in all my years."

Cassandra did not immediately respond – finding herself too engrossed in the knife instead. Vasan took it upon himself to reply, offering the only explanation that he could conjure up.

"She's not like any other lady, I promise you," he laughed.

"Vasan." Cassandra tapped the tip of the knife with her finger. "Do not ever say that again."

"Uhm," he coughed as he bobbed his head. "Sorry, Cassandra."

With him quiet, Cassandra turned her attention to Samuel. "I'm not like other ladies, I promise you," she smiled.

With a chuckle, Samuel picked up another knife for her to compare. The one she held was large and heavy towards the front. The off-set balance was purely intentional; as Samuel had made the knife more akin to a cleaver rather than a hunting instrument. The other knife was short and curved, with a thin blade that made it perfect for small, precise cuts.

"You may like this one." He offered the second instrument to her. Cassandra sat the bulkier option aside and casually took hold of its brother. A small hum purred from her closed lips as she took an instant liking to it.

"You would be correct," she smiled. "It's light, but this four-inch blade is promising." Her eyes returned to the process of studying the metal, searching for any noticeable signs of chipping or rolls. To truly test the fortitude and endurance of a knife – it would have to be put to the trials it was made for. Gazing could only tell so much, but Cassandra marveled at the quality at hand.

The hilt and handle were metal as well; appearing as mere extensions of the blade itself. It was quite ornate – especially compared to the aesthetics of the rest of the environment. "Where did you find the materials to make this?" She asked.

"Ah…family secret," he replied.

Her interest clung to the cliffhanger that he had left her on. She glanced at him, curious as to where he learned his craft. "Your bloodline taught you; I presume?"

"Yes. I am the last one. Never had any children, unfortunately. I guess I got so carried away in my work." He offered a genuine laugh as he reflected on how much his passion had steered his life. All those years put toward honing his skills at the cost of a continuation of his family and yet…to have someone like her take up consideration toward the knives was all worth it.

"So," Cassandra lowered the knife down to the table, "it's a personal secret, then?"

"Hmm," he nodded with a hint of being impressed by her spin of his words, "you're correct."

"My family is known for their skills at creating…certain kinds of drinks. It's not local to this place, but it is who we are. I am very proud of my mother's craft."

"Is it a form of mioclak that your family makes?"

Cassandra shook her head. "No."

"Good," Samuel smiled again. "That stuff has always been far too bitter."

"Yes!" She shouted with a laugh before mimicking a disgusted face. Vasan did not know what else he could say to her. She was continuously going out of her way to exclude him. All he could think about was what could have possibly done wrong. He felt uninvited and it hurt.

"Ahh…" A burly voice called out from the side, catching the attention of everyone.

Cassandra and Vasan both turned their heads to the left as the large, heavyset butcher approached the table. "If it is my dear old acquaintance; lady Cassandra."

"Gibbin?" She tilted her head. "Here to tell me more stories?"

His red beard obscured most of his mouth, but the man's gleam could still be made out through the curly bundles of hair. "If you have the time…I always have a story." Dressed in his usual white long sleeve with the ends rolled up, coated with a generous amount of dirt and dull, red stains; Gibbin was the embodiment of his work. The man's gut was as big as his strong arms, which Cassandra felt only added to who he was.

As much as she found him to represent the image of a nauseating man; he was entertaining.

"Time is uncertain," she commented, returning her sights down to the knife. Her bare thumb rubbed aside the sharpened edge; its peak flipping through the rolls of her fingerprints. It would not take much for such a blade to cut into one's flesh.

Gibbin spared Vasan a glance before smiling again. "It seems time is uncertain, but spent in the company of others."

She poked her head back to check if Vasan was still there. "Don't remind me."

Another blow to his self-esteem.

"Heh…" Gibbin looked at Vasan again, gesturing toward Cassandra with his bushy eyebrows. Vasan merely shrugged his shoulders, unsure of what to do next. Gibbin's eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, making his question clearer. Vasan still could not give any definitive answer, which left the butcher shaking his head. He turned to Samuel, leaving Vasan to figure it out for himself.

"Anyway," Gibbin began, "I was wondering if you have a good filleting knife? I nicked me thumb whilst cutting away at the ginyol I just bagged. Kind of got carried away and threw the old one across the pond. Can't find it now and the animal isn't going to stay fresh for long."

Samuel nodded slowly, surveying his line-up for anything that would help Gibbin out. "Well, I could sell you some of these larger knives. The curve on their blade would do well to cut the ginyol up."

"A bit too large for me liking," Gibbin remarked. "When flaying ginyol, you need to be precise. One wrong cut and their glands could get severed. Cut those and you spoil the whole kill. No offense, but I wouldn't able to see where I'm cutting."

"I see…" Samuel looked around some more but to no avail. Most of his knives had been crafted for multi-purpose use. Someone like Gibbin would keep a large assortment handy – each one serving their own, unique role. He had his chopping knives. Gutting knives were aplenty back at his stand. The man was in no market for an additional sword, either.

That was always handy in case a dhin decided to prowl the town outskirts – though his fantasy had yet to come to fruition. Until that day; the weapon would be left to collect dust.

Unfortunately, out of all the knives he had – his only flaying knife was lost in the dirt, somewhere. It was a poor choice on his part. He knew he should have been prepared to compensate for the loss of a tool along the course of his job.

"I'm afraid I don't have any other knives suited to your purpose." Samuel turned his head over to Cassandra, who was still inspecting her thin, curved knife. By the sound of the old man's voice, he found the situation quite comical. "That is, of course, if this young lady here is willing to buy the one that she is currently looking at."

As soon as she heard Samuel speak, Cassandra turned her gaze over to Gibbin – whose attention was now fixated on the knife that she held. A playful tone carried along her voice; albeit slightly devilish. "Oh, this? I really am starting to take a liking to this knife."

Gibbin could see the game that she was playing. He almost wanted to laugh at the show Cassandra was putting on, but he withheld such action; cautious as to what it may inspire her to do. Instead, he remained casual and tilted his head down at the cutting tool. "You sure you can afford that?"

Her face loosened as she peered at the likely expensive weapon. "No…"

"Ah!" Gibbin smiled. "No worries about that then. Samuel, if she's not going to buy –"

"But Vasan would love to make me happy." She smiled at the young man beside her. "Wouldn't he?"

"Of course!" He leaped at the opportunity to rectify any of his past transgressions at her. If purchasing the knife meant that her heart would grow fonder of him, then so be it. He did not care how much it would cost. He'd spend his entire savings if the small slicer would seal the deal between them. "How much does it cost?"

"Seventy-four coin," Samuel clarified. Cassandra did not understand the metrics of this world's economy, nor did she care. It wasn't her money being spent. She looked at Vasan, seeing the man was almost about to faint.

"Uh…yeah…not a problem…" He reached into his pocket, pulling at some coins. "I'll have to return to my home and grab the…rest of my money. I promise I'll be right back." As soon as he took a step to go, Gibbin's anxious face stared back at Cassandra.

"Wait! You like ginyol, right?"

Her sinister smile was back; the true goal was finally being met. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

"Allow me to buy that knife, and I'll reward you with a large amount of the meat I'm preparing. Much more than the cost of it. You can even pick whatever parts you want." His negotiating skills were not very subtle when it came down to the wire. The man was practically begging. Bagging a ginyol was no easy task and he did not want to see his day's work go to such waste.

With another hum – acting as if she was taking her time to consider it – Cassandra pressed her finger at the corner of her mouth. Her eyelids lowered shut as she went silent for a few seconds, opening as her amber orbs flashed at him. "Fine, you have a deal."

Taking a breath, Gibbin wiped his forehead and finally broke a small chuckle to settle the air. "A deal it is." He went to shake on it, but Cassandra merely handed him the knife instead. With a nod of his head, he agreed that such would do. He knew that she was toying with him, but it did not seem to be out of the cards that she would have allowed Vasan to buy the knife for her, either.

"Try not to throw this one," Cassandra added.

Curling his lip, Gibbin held the knife up. "I'll take care not to. The ginyol should be prepared in about two hours. I'll be expecting your arrival." He proceeded to pay Samuel, moving away to return to his kill.

"Sounds good," Cassandra grinned before she addressed Samuel. "And thank you for allowing me to look at that wonderful blade. I'm sure it will be well taken care of."

Samuel slowly reached down to check out one of his other remaining wares. "If Gibbin hasn't changed at all; he'll be back next week asking me for a new one."

What wonders never cease.

A small giggle was her final gesture before departing. "Take care now." Cassandra returned to Vasan, who was more than relieved to hear that he would not be paying such a large sum of money today – at least not yet. Fate could hardly tell what Cassandra's next move would be.

As she tried to pass the next few hours, Cassandra and Vasan toured most of the town. It was nice to see places that she had not visited before. When Leta and her first ventured to Acomb, they were on a time crunch. There was no option to be out all day. As much as Vasan's awkward ways brought her frustration, she could ignore that as long as the fresh air continued to pour in.

Being out of the castle following her fight with Lia was well-deserved. She could barely stand to think that the fawn – let alone be anywhere near her. The change of scenery helped take her mind off the problem. Milo was right; an afternoon in the town did work.

If it wasn't for the rest of the townsfolk, however, she would have enjoyed it more. It seemed like no matter where she went, there was always a handful of people out and about. It had to be the kind of weather that Locwitary offered, as most people from her home village stayed in during the cold season – lest they had to work or be present for whatever it was Mother Miranda preached.

She despised large crowds and to find herself at the center of their attention only made it worse. What was it about her that continued to grab their focus? Was it that mark on her forehead? Her unusual attire? The mere fact that she as a woman was in the company of Vasan?

There was no definitive answer. All she knew was that the sooner they averted their eyes – the better.

Vasan seemed to enjoy her presence, though inside, her reactions to everything that he offered had begun to wear at the man. His confidence was dwindling. By their third hour together, he began to come up with fewer suggestions. Her requests for him to talk less seemed to finally be fulfilled.

She hated his unending advances, especially in the beginning. In her world; she was above all men. Most daughters of House Dimitrescu would never tolerate a lustful stare – let alone an entire afternoon of listening to such poor flirtation. She had been taught to "never fall for their tricks," as her mother said it.

Daniela hardly got the message as the redhead often yearned for the attention of a man. Even Bela would occasionally deride her for such foolish ambitions. She could not be left alone with some of the captured men for the sake of her modesty. Even a kiss – which would have been the man's final one – would have unleashed Alcina's torrential fury.

In her eyes; her three daughters had to be the embodiment of purity. Nothing – and no one – could be allowed to tarnish them.

In all her years, Cassandra never sought the idea of companionship whatsoever. She had known about it through her knowledge of human history, Daniela's literature, and what she witnessed in the village. People feel in love. Others married and procreated for survival. It was nature at heart – one way or the other.

There was a sense of pride in being what she envisioned as an untouchable huntress. She could see the way men would look at her in the moments preceding her violent ways. Outsiders were particularly fun to lure deeper into the castle. Hunters in the woods would sometimes gaze upon her as she meddled past the trees; her soft giggles drawing them in. In the days before more of the villagers gathered the truth of what was happening inside the fortress above them; the daughters of House Dimitrescu were seen as beautiful royalty. One would never expect what would happen if they got close…

Bela was too good for such games, while Daniela got carried away with them.

Cassandra treated it like any other hunt. She had to stay two steps above her prey at all times to remain in control. While they never stood a chance against her one way or another, she knew that allowing them to think they could put their hands on her was a failure on her part. It was all about the chase and when the shadows were present – her sickle would draw blood.

Now, in this world from another realm, she was spending the afternoon in a new village with a man who she could not stand. While he did not attempt to do anything physical with her, his emotional attachment was the reason why she was at her wit's end. As if her time in Milo's castle wasn't a powerful reminder of how much her circumstances had changed in the last few days; this was the ultimate signal.

No man would have ever made it this far with her, and here she was.

Remembering her conversations with Milo, Cassandra put some thought into what she meant for herself when it came to "doing better." As much as she wanted to strangle Vasan, the immediate urge to go forward with it was absent. It did leave tremendous irritability in its wake – yes – but, in the murder department, she was short-staffed.

Killing someone simply because they had made her mad or flirted with her was beginning to not make much sense at all. She couldn't explain it. Ever since she arrived here, something about her felt off. It was small at first, though noticeable. However, after her interactions with Leta and Milo, that feeling began to grow. Her impulsive nature was beginning to subside in some ways.

As much as she hated to think about it; hearing Leta mirror Daniela's tragic words were a trigger to its acceleration. It got her thinking about the consequences of her actions. After having witnessed the ruin they had caused her back in her home world, Cassandra had found herself free from the uncontrollable rage that she used to foster – just enough to make the right decision that day.

She shuddered to think about what she would have done to Leta had the child been a villager in her realm. She had never killed a kid before and the scary thing was that the lack of ever committing such a horrible act was not due to her sense of morality.

She simply never had reason to encounter one.

If a child had managed to anger her so much…she probably would not have held back.

Such thoughts helped keep her on the straight and narrow during her time here. Hurting Vasan would do her no good. She wasn't the high-ranking daughter of a village lord. She was a stranger to this town. An outsider.

And now, she was a young lady on a very annoying date.

Gazing at the forest in the far distance, Cassandra and Vasan sat down on the green grass not far from the edge of the town. With such a range in between them and the woods, the fear of approaching dhins was not in the cards. The man could not understand why she had wanted to go here, but at the risk of causing her to get mad, he opted to stay quiet again.

She had not said much to him since the two of them sat down, nor did she seem to care much for his company. It looked like he was only kept around solely because he knew his way about the town and she'd be lost without him – if not only for a short while. He was beginning to debate whether he was even worth her time.

"So." He rested his elbows against his knees as he fiddled with his messy hair. "How are…how is your day going?"

Sitting cross-legged, her black dress folded all around her, Cassandra grunted as she looked ahead, gazing at the landscape with a sense of captivation. Her thoughts of wanting to be free remerged, only to contrast with the reality that had been thrown at her. Vasan had no clue of the conflict that she was dealing with inside her head – and that was okay. There was no reason to talk about it with him.

With another sigh, he looked down at his feet. The young man had almost nothing left to give her and she wanted nothing from him. In truth; he felt like a fool for having believed otherwise.

"I'm sorry I brought you here today," he said. Cassandra finally turned around and stared at him. The mere act went against all his expectations, as he doubted that she was even listening. Putting his dilemmas aside, he locked eyes with her and could see that she wanted an explanation – judging by how confused and insulted she appeared.

"What does that mean?" She demanded that he answer her.

"It's just…you don't look like you've had any fun since the moment you stepped out of Milo's castle. I tried so many things to make you happy and none of them worked. I don't know what else to do."

She had heard that kind of voice before. This was someone who truly was going through some inner turmoil. Normally, she would not care. The entire day had been spent not caring; all in the pursuit of sending the message that she did not want to be with him. It looked like he had finally gotten the point, but she could see a part of herself in the way he spoke.

The way that his voice fell was like her own whenever she believed she had made a mistake. Vasan did not seem to be one who would transition to loud yelling to drown out the sound of such defeat. He'd keep it. Hold on to it until it could be solved – or at least addressed.

Diverging from everything she was; Cassandra decided to do something else besides insulting him. Something in the woman compelled her to break from the norm. Dialogue was an option.

"I wasn't having a good day when you came up to me. I didn't want to go out and spend the day with you. Just because I went along with your request, it does not mean that I owe you my happiness."

He hung his head, eyes closed. "I know…"

"And for the record: your sadness is not going to cause a woman to be affectionate toward you. That's my advice," she added, turning her head to gaze back at the landscape. Her words were less sweet than others may have offered, but her direct approach verbalized her viewpoint on the dynamic between the two of them.

Vasan sniffled, brushing his nose with the side of his forearm. He glanced away at the other trees across the plain. "I wouldn't do that. I promise you," he sighed. "I know this isn't going to work out. I've accepted that already. Now, I'm just wondering..."

He had her attention. She shifted her body a little to the left so that she could have a better view of him. He had spent the last few hours trying to impress her and now that it had stopped, she could feel the difference in him. "Wondering about what?"

"Was there even anything that I could have done to change your mood? Like, I don't know…" He could not take his eyes away from the trees, much like she was distant during their meal together. "It just kills me to think that you're always this mad. I understand that I don't understand a single thing about you. What I believe about you is that you are a remarkably beautiful woman. You have the kindest eyes I've ever seen. Your smile is just so perfect. Your laugh is infectious." Vasan shrugged.

He had one final thing to say, "I'd hate to believe that such a woman spends her life feeling so upset."

She took his compliments in without hesitation. It was nice to be called such things. Words like that could make anyone feel warm inside. Still; she'd rather not get too personal with him, even though what he had said had managed to reach her. This wasn't like Leta where a mere sentence was able to pull Cassandra out of her darkness. She did not need to be pulled back from anything.

But her wants and her needs were two separate entities when life decided they needed to be.

"You really make me mad," she broke the truth to him. Her face was mostly neutral – if not slightly displeased at herself. "Do you want to know how?"

Another sniffle came from his nose. He tried to look at her but turning his head around was just too painful.

Cassandra breathed a small breath. "Well, I'm going to tell you, anyway. You're always talking to me; asking me how I am, trying to start a conversation with your dumb stories. You're always looking at me like you've never seen a lady before. It repulses me. I also think it's pathetic that you would have spent all your money on me for something I didn't need, only because I asked. And lastly…" Cassandra kept her eyes on him, "I find your reaction to all this pitiful."

She could see some tears break away from his eyes. Everything she said had stung like a swarm of enraged hornets. Vasan did not try to wipe his face this time. All he could do was give a short nod. His voice cracked, "Yeah…it is."

Cassandra sighed as she turned her body around to face the far-off forest. She may have been as blunt as a sledgehammer in her explanation, but that was not to say that she did feel an equal sense of rejection in her own way. "You make me mad because I'm not the right woman for you. I don't appreciate the things you have to offer, but someone else will."

Caught off guard; Vasan moved his head over at her. He had heard her clear as day, but it was so unexpected that he had to ask for clarification. "What?"

Expanding her chest with a large inhale, Cassandra took a moment to prepare her follow-up, "I'm not looking for the kind of love that you are. You're wasting your time with someone like me. But another woman may love to be asked how they are feeling. They'd probably love to hear your dumb stories. I can imagine that they may want to feel like they are the only woman in the world when all your attention is on them." Cassandra brought her knees up against her chest, wrapping her arms around them as she did so.

"Some would be impressed that you seek to give them whatever they want. They may not find your tears pitiful, either. They might find them to be the best show of how much you care…"

She went silent – save only for the sound of her breathing.

Just listen to me for once, you idiot.

He pinched his brow; eyes floating across the grass and dirt as he replayed what she had said over and over. As much as it hurt to hear what she had spoken – the kindness, in the end, overtook everything negative that could be reaped from it.

"You…" Vasan swallowed, clearing his throat, "you're saying that I'm not putting my efforts into the right woman?"

Cassandra nodded. "Daniela would have loved you."

"Who is Daniela?"

"My sister," she sighed, tightening her arms around her legs. "She always talked about how much she wanted to find the perfect man; one that would whisk her away from our castle and onto new lands. Everything that you had to give – she'd take." The pitch of sadness was beginning to become present in her voice. She lowered her head, just as he began to speak.

"Wait…so, you're telling me my heart would not be safe with you, but your sister?" Vasan did not know what Cassandra's intentions were. It sounded like she was trying to set him up with her sibling but the way she spoke gave him the impression of a lost chance.

"I believe so; if she were here instead of me."

"I'm sorry, but you're not making sense. Can you please explain?"

She groaned as she shook her head. "What I'm saying is: you're not with the right one. There are better choices out there. If you care so much…find someone who does. Stop wasting your time with me."

She wanted to help him overcome these feelings and the best way to go about it – she thought – was to not lead him on with any hint of care. She'd have to rip the bandage off and throw dirt in the wound. At the same time, she also wanted to give him the advice that he needed and hopefully, he would find success.

Vasan breathed as he paused to take it all in. The rejection hurt more than it should have, for whatever reason. He had known that their afternoon together was not going well. Her turning him away should have come as no surprise at this rate. He wasn't dumb – she wasn't saying that he wasn't good enough.

She was telling him that she wasn't right and that happiness would not come from her.

Watching her sit on the grass touched upon an amalgam of emotions that couldn't be sorted at once. It'd take time and thought to figure out how to overcome them. That pale woman had been an enigma to him ever since their first encounter and he could not stop thinking about her.

"I understand," he accepted her decision, standing up as he did so. "Whoever it is that earns your love will be the most fortunate person in the world. And you deserve all that love too. Thanks for giving me this great day." Vasan gave a soft exhale before slowly walking away from her. Leaving her by herself felt like the hardest thing that he had ever done, but he knew it was the only choice that he could make on her terms. Whether she was happy or not wasn't his question to answer – nor remedy.

As she listened to his footsteps fade away, Cassandra's breaths grew smaller and smaller. She sat still, looking ahead as the trees grew blurry. A set of tears broke out from the corner of her eyes. Her lips parted, unleashing a shuddered breath through her teeth.

Daniela…this day should have been yours. I wish you could have experienced this. You've always wanted it. What makes me so special?

Sniffling just as he did, Cassandra wiped the tears off of her face and buried her head into her knees.

Now, you get what you've always wanted, Cass. You're alone.

A small, muffled whimper played out from under her hood.

And you know this isn't what you want.

Lia stormed around the library – frustrated as ever. "I can't believe you let that woman out – unsupervised – in Acomb."

Milo was seated in his chair, his notebook flipped open; a finger and a pen resting on the page that he was currently on. He had been listening to her tirade for the last few minutes ever since she confronted him about Cassandra. He tried to reason with her, though he knew such actions were often difficult. "Lia, it was either she goes out and gets some time away, or I leave her here and risk you and her fighting. What did you want me to do?"

She continued to pace around; eyes glued to him with a look of intensity. "Tell her to stay in her room or somewhere else! Not letting her out among those innocent people."

"She's not alone," Milo remarked.

"Oh!" Lia gave a sarcastic laugh. "She's with Vasan? What's he going to do if she tries to hurt someone? That boy would never hurt a fly. Do you think he would be able to hold her back?"

Milo groaned as he closed his book. Rubbing his short, grey hair, his wrinkled forehead was the only thing that the fawn could see. "Lia…she's not our prisoner."

"She would know a thing or two about prisoners, wouldn't she?" Lia added, approaching the table with her finger pointed at him. "I told you what I've seen her do to those poor women in her world. Must I say it again?"

"No," he said, "you don't."

Her thin face stared down at him, green eyes analytical as ever, trying to find out why the man had been so reckless. "But, I must. You do not understand what is living with us." She stepped back, allowing some free space between the two of them. "Look at me, Milo."

He lifted his head, watching as Lia's fingers emitted a blue flame that glowed down to her palms. She placed both hands together, breathing slowly as she did so. Pulling them apart, she cast yet another window to Cassandra's world – this time, displaying the memories that she had bore witness to.

Milo's eyes shut as soon as he saw the grisly sights that were to be beheld. Lia snapped her attention toward him. "No, open your eyes! This is some of what she's done…"

Hesitantly, Milo did as told and gazed upon the carnage in front of him. Flashes of violence played out – blended in no organized pattern. Various women and men, all bloodied and screaming for mercy.

A vision of a young maid with what looked to be Cassandra's gloved hands pressed around her tearful face was one of the horrific sights. She appeared to be strapped down to a wooden table, partially clothed – flayed skin in view wherever fabric was not. "Miss Cassandra!" She cried through her torturer's fingers. "Please! I won't spill any more wine! I promise!"

Cassandra's voice could be heard; playful and delighted as ever, "That won't do."

"I'm so scared." Her agonized breaths huffed out as Cassandra moved her hands around her neck. A torn lip and at least one shattered tooth were revealed in the process. Blood seeped out from the wound, trickling down as she began to compress her trachea.

"Good…the more scared you are, the thicker the blood!"

The visions moved along; showing other women who had been strung up and brutalized by their guest. Milo winced as the gruesome display continued to play out. Lia couldn't stand to relive the images and sounds as well, but she remained adamant that he saw it.

Another display involved a woman seated on a spiked chair. Her legs and arms were strapped down, forced to endure the painful prongs that lined the rims of the sinister furniture. Cassandra's arms could be seen, waving around another woman's severed hand at the crying girl. "I heard you missed your friend, Emilia, right?"

The visions continued, showing a brief glimpse of a man's legs as he dangled from the ceiling and moaned in pain. Another woman's voice could be heard in the background of the abyss. "But, later…there will be enough for everyone."

Milo finally got up from his chair and waved his hands around. "Enough!"

Lia closed the window. "Do you understand now? That is only a fraction of what I've seen. Imagine watching hundreds of these people die! Hundreds, Milo! She and her family are nothing but killers!" She approached him by his side, lowering her voice a little so that he may apply greater focus to her words.

"This is the woman you allow inside these walls. That is her true nature."

Milo could not hide how the depiction of Cassandra's inhumane actions had affected him. The man appeared worn out but far from the bottom. He was still processing it all and Lia understood that. She was still trying to navigate through everything that she had seen. Pushing his book to the side, Milo stood up and looked at the fawn – her eyes begging him for agreement.

"I cannot deny what you have shown me. Cassandra has done horrible things. She has killed many people. I can't imagine the amount of loss she has inflicted upon others."

Lia smiled, happy to see that he was seeing things her way. "Yes! I was not lying to you. I never would. If I had known what she was beforehand; I would have never brought her here."

Milo nodded slowly, his lip adopting a curl that did not go unnoticed by her. She had seen it before and was wise to how the man conveyed his emotions. Her sudden expression of happiness soon began to degrade, knowing that things were not as simple as she had hoped.

"Milo…don't tell me this wasn't enough."

His lips curled further until he released them to scoop in a short breath. He shook his head, moving around the table to collect his thoughts. Lia did not take her eyes off of him, watching as he muddled about; another trait of his that she knew all too well.

He was conflicted.

"When you told me she was a monster and explained what you had seen," Milo said, "I believed you. It made sense. I assumed that she has harmed others. There was no question about it."

Lia's brow pinched upwards. Her eyes remained wide, yet she withheld any anger for the time being. "Then why did you keep her here?"

"She's the single greatest event in our world's history: a person from another realm has broken the threshold and arrived at ours! There is so much to be learned from her. But I did not want to be foolish. With you, I was sure that she could be contained. Your powers are great, Lia. I knew I could count on you to protect us." Milo explained his reasons for allowing the ferocious woman to stay with them. Lia's hands clenched together – her boney knuckles turning a faint white.

She did not want to believe it – lest he was to be thought of as incredibly naïve. No, she thought; he was lying to her. "What?!" She yelled. "Explain how that worked when I succumbed to whatever it was that she was able to do to me! Explain how even in the face of all that: you let her stay…even with my sister!"

Milo raised his hands to try and calm her down but she was not going to fall silent.

"No, you need to listen," she scorned him. "You allowed Leta – a child – to spend a day with a murderer? Cassandra drinks blood! Do you not understand that? She almost got Leta killed! I will not allow that to happen, Milo. Your pursuit of science does not call for me to risk my sister's life." Her breathing grew deeper as she found herself treading upon emotions that she rarely crossed.

Lia often could manage her anger – at least preventing it from reaching higher levels where her stability could be called into question. However, with Leta's safety in the equation, she found it harder to do so. Milo reattempted the fruitless action of raising his hands and gradually lowering them.

"Lia…I would never allow Leta to get hurt. Something is changing within Cassandra. I can see it. I think her being away from her world is helping that. She's gotten better. She's not the same woman she was when she first arrived here."

Lia did not care for whatever self-improvement the brunette had accomplished. "She has killed. She's taken lives. How could you look past that?!" She groaned loudly, hands shaking at her side. "What if I was one of those poor women? What if she killed me? Am I not worth anything to you?"

"I would never allow anything to happen to you, Lia. I've raised you all these years. Leta too."

Lia nodded sarcastically, averting her eyes as she cast a half-smile. "Uh-huh, you say that." She turned back to him. "You've raised me? I've raised myself. I raised Leta as I am supposed to. That's what fawns do. I'm not even supposed to have a father, but how did that happen, again?"

Milo's arms suddenly dropped and his eyes closed. "Lia…please. I am trying everything that I could possibly do. You know what I would have done if I could change things."

Her words had cut through him without resistance. Seeing him like this was enough to make her relinquish the unhinged wrath that such contempt could foster, but she did not allow her opinions to fade away with it.

"You think that what is wrong could be made right – but not always. Some things can't be changed or forgiven. Cassandra is one of them. Whatever you're trying to accomplish by changing her: it's dangerous and you know it. Do not let her appearance fool you. She may look like a young woman but she is a dhin in the skin of a poil."

Milo opened his eyes. "I see something else in her, Lia. Maybe she could be saved."

Lia sighed, glaring at him as she found their talk to be going nowhere. She shook her head and turned away, stopping just outside the door. Before leaving, she spared him one, final glance. "She is not her, Milo."

Milo's face fell into a slump of depression. "Why did you say that?"

She took a small breath, knowing the gravity of her words. Determination remained strong in her eyes. This could not go on forever, she thought. "Because I have to. Someone has to."

NOTES:

Welcome back! I hope this chapter was worth the wait!

I wanted to add some more light-heartedness to this story and Vasan was a good way to bring it about. His date didn't go so well but I guess he may have expected that. Does he still have a chance with Cassandra? She was pretty blunt but we see that she isn't left in the best emotional state, either. Is she looking for love? Who knows? Not everything is to be taken at face value.

Gibbin also made a re-appearance, which I'm sure some of you may be happy about. You'll see him some more throughout the story as well. Cassandra can tolerate him – for now.

As I mentioned before: Lia isn't going to be left in the dust. Expect the plot with her to build more and more as these chapters go on. Tensions can only rise so much and she is a force to be reckoned with.

There are some big reveals on the horizon and anticipate the next chapter to diving into a little more about what this world is all about. Locwitary may have two suns, but that doesn't mean there isn't darkness.

The next chapter will be out on November 25th.

Follow this story on Archive of Our Own to check out the latest artwork. Every chapter gets at least one!

Thanks again for the outpouring of support from all of you. I am so happy to see this story attract new readers and hearing about how much you look forward to each chapter's release makes my day! I am going to do my best to get these chapters out there for you all to enjoy! Thank you for your continued inspiration and the kindness you share. I say this on every note but you all are the best! I hope you have a great week and I can't wait until next time! Stay safe, happy, and healthy in the meantime!