More and more Corrupted choked the cathedral. Ivy's skin crawled to be so near them as she walked down the aisle. Zelkov and Kagetsu followed her, both looking thoroughly displeased in their own way.

They had all been called there by Zephia. This was a special occasion, it seemed. The councilors were coming in behind her. Some did a better job at hiding their fear than others.

The king was already standing in the nave. Ivy was shocked every time she saw him now by how haggard he looked. He had taken to carrying the Ring of the Lady of the Plains with him everywhere. He turned it between his fingers again and again and again.

She allowed herself a moment to reminisce about the first time she had seen that ring. Father had taken her to his chambers, just the two of them. He had temporarily dismantled the magical wards that protected it and set the beautiful ring in her small palm. She had been awestruck, and so thrilled to share this special moment with her father. His smile then was full of pride.

Was there really the spirit of an ancient hero within it? Once, a thousand years ago, the ring had been entrusted to Elusia by the Divine Dragon. She had bestowed on them this relic of immense power. How had they strayed so far from her light that they were now using it to release the Fell Dragon from where she had imprisoned him?

The Four Hounds stood by. Their expressions ranged from smug satisfaction to stoicism. The Fell Princess was a pale silhouette against a great swirling blackness. Ivy could feel it tugging at her, a wound in reality.

Zephia stepped forward and raised her hands in the air. As she muttered incantations Ivy didn't understand, energy began to swirl around her. The power that she channeled was immense. Everyone in Destinea Cathedral shuddered at it. Ivy's senses, highly attuned to magic, were battered by its force.

The darkness shifted, then rippled. Spears of purple light burst through it. A miasma filled the cathedral then condensed itself into a pillar of smoke. Within its depths, three magenta eyes opened.

"Finally… I am free."

Ivy wanted to scream. She wanted to hide. She wanted to collapse to the floor and weep. But it was pointless. The Fell Dragon was here. He was in front of her, and all she could do was stand and stare.

Zephia stepped forward and bowed low. "Lord Sombron, I am delighted to welcome you back to Elyos."

"...Zephia. You answered my call. You shall have your reward when the time comes."

She smiled with satisfaction.

"And my daughter is here…"

"Yes, Father, I'm here," said Lady Veyle.

"The defect… Yet, I am sensing something different about her."

"I have been magnifying her draconic impulses as you instructed," said Zephia. "I believe you will find her to be a worthy servant."

"I've already created an army of Corrupted for you, Father."

"But where are the rings? I need the rings!" The smoke roiled. "Wait. I sense one. Here."

The smoke coalesced into a shadowy figure of almost humanoid proportions. It drifted towards the king.

"You have an Emblem Ring."

Ivy's father, always so self-possessed, now flinched backwards from the terrible presence.

"Who are you?"

"I am Hyacinth, king of Elusia." His voice sounded weak and small.

He held the ring out with a trembling hand.

"P-please accept this as a gift from the Kingdom of Elusia."

"I need all twelve to regain my corporeal form. Keep it — for now — and use its power to procure me the rest. Do so and you will see your enemies crushed into dust."

"Thank you, Lord Sombron, tha—"

"Wait."

The Fell Dragon stretched out a shadowy hand. The ring began to glow, brighter and brighter, until the figure of a woman appeared before them. She floated silently, like a crimson specter. The Lady of the Plains!

"There. I have unlocked the power of the Emblem. With it, no one can defeat you. Now go — all of you! Get me the rings."

With that the Fell Dragon twisted into a column of smoke, then a sphere of total darkness. Energy crackled around it. Its malevolent aura was nauseating.

Right before she retreated into her ring, it seemed to Ivy that the Lady of the Plains made eye contact. Was she trying to convey something in that look? What could Ivy do? She was powerless — nothing and nobody before the might of the Fell Dragon.

Lady Veyle's voice cut through Ivy's petrifaction. "You have your orders. Get those rings!"

That night, Ivy sat in her bed, hugging her knees. She was cold in a way that had nothing to do with the snow falling outside. The Fell Dragon was alive, awake. He was here. She could see now why he would be worshipped. There were always those who would try to ride the coattails of anyone powerful. But how could they not feel the menace that radiated from him? Would their worship keep them safe? For all their sakes, Ivy hoped so.

Just as she did every night, Ivy prayed to the Divine Dragon. She asked for courage and strength, but what her heart yearned for most was safety. For so long, it seemed she had been walking on thinning ice. Now, cracks appeared no matter how carefully she stepped. She wanted someone to hold her and tell her everything would be alright.

There was no one she could turn to. It was Ivy's job to shield Hortensia from all this. And the memory of her father's face scared her perhaps even more than the Fell Dragon himself. But then again… there was someone who had never yet failed to protect her…

After a moment of indecision, Ivy climbed out of bed. She found a piece of paper, folded it up, then stuck her head out the door and handed it to the guard on duty. The only thing left to do was wait.

Zelkov happened to be leaving his quarters when Hawthorne caught him. It was a lucky break for the guard as otherwise he would have had to track Zelkov down to his workshop. He saluted and thrust out a neatly folded missive.

"A message from Princess Ivy for you, sir."

"My thanks."

He took the note and opened it. Nothing was written inside.

"She told me to tell you to 'go by the most direct route,' sir. She said you would understand."

"I believe I do. Return and guard her door. These are troubled times."

The guard saluted again and ran back down the hallway. Of course, the true most direct route would be to follow Hawthorne to the princess's door, since the retainers' quarters flanked the royal apartments, but he knew that was not what she had meant. Zelkov selected a key from his collection. There was a room nearby that overlooked a mostly flat roof. From there it would be an easy climb to the princess's balcony.

He closed the window behind himself as swiftly as possible, but there was still a rush of cold air. He brushed the snow off his shoulders while observing the princess out of the corner of his eye. The candle cast golden highlights over her while doing little to dispel the darkness of the room. She huddled in her blanket, alone in the center of the massive bed.

The events of the day had obviously left the princess shaken. He was shaken as well, but fear had much less to grip hold of when one had so little left to lose. What difference would it make if the Fell Dragon killed him tomorrow?

He bowed. "What do you require of me, Princess?"

"I… I need… warmth."

Warmth was not something Zelkov was particularly known for. But if she meant in a purely physical way…

"You do realize the consequences if I am caught in your bedchamber at night."

"I know. I know." She put her forehead to her knees. "It's wrong of me to ask you to come here. Go. Just go and forget about all this."

He was not prepared for her abrupt change of mind. He should obey her command. Leaving would be the wise thing. But his purpose was to ensure her wellbeing… That was all he would do.

He shrugged off his damp coat and laid it over a chair, then he sat on the edge of the bed and began to unlace his boots.

"What are you doing?"

"I believe your rule was 'no boots on the bed.'"

"You're staying?"

"You are trembling, Princess."

"I'm so… cold."

What now? He slid nearer on the bed. He was not quite sure what she wanted from him and did not want to make the wrong move.

She inched closer to him until they were shoulder to shoulder and wrapped the blanket around so that it covered both of them. Her body was so soft pressed against his side, and her scent was intoxicating. Her head drifted to his shoulder. He had made a mistake. He wanted her. He wanted her badly. Wanting was a dangerous thing; it was far too close to needing. And what happened when one lost a thing that they needed?

Zelkov should have left when he had the chance. This could not be a repeat of their previous encounter. He could not lose control again. But there was no escape when he had purposely stepped in the bear trap.

What should he do? What did she expect? He put an arm around her. That seemed correct. She nestled closer and her fingers found their way underneath his tunic.

He flinched. "Your hands are like ice!"

She shied away and turned her head. "I told you I was cold."

"Forgive me. It was… unexpected."

Zelkov took both of her hands and clasped them between his own. He brought them to his mouth, then breathed on them. She turned back to him. Her eyes searched his face.

"I know it's wrong to ask this of you. I know you have no fondness for me," she said bitterly. "I'm just a thing for you to keep safe. Just a… a porcelain doll that you must keep from breaking. Well, so be it. I'll be your doll. Play with me. Only don't leave me alone on the shelf."

He said nothing. What could he possibly say? How many times in the darkness of his past had he sought pleasure in uncaring strangers' arms in order to feel anything other than despair? If that was what she needed in this moment, he could provide it. That would be his aim. He would not lose control.

He picked her up and moved her so that her back was against his chest. He put his arms around her.

"Allow me to warm you."

She was stiff for a moment, then relaxed against him. He had no idea why she had chosen him. Convenience perhaps. If the most beautiful woman in Elyos had dubious taste in men, so be it. The king had practically given his blessing after all.

Her hair was against his cheek. He breathed in its fragrance. Since when had he enjoyed the smell of roses? It was not overpowering. Just a subtle scent that left you searching for more…

He stroked her hair. The calluses on his hands did not allow him to fully appreciate the fineness of it. He ran his fingers through the strands, sliding it across the less deadened skin in between. It felt… good.

A little more of the tension in her body eased. She laid her head back on his shoulder, exposing her lovely throat. It would be… agreeable to see more, but her nightgown was in the way.

A single pull was enough to untie the ribbon on her neckline. He loosened it to reveal her shoulders. Every time he touched her skin, he marveled at its smoothness. How unfair to him it was that she was so pleasing to every sense.

Zelkov moved her hair out of the way and ran his face along her neck. What depraved thing inside him made him want to sink his teeth into it? She seemed to enjoy it last time, though. He bit her gently; he would not allow himself to get carried away and leave a mark on her this time. Still, her quiet hum of pleasure was far too gratifying.

Princess Ivy turned her head and caught his mouth with her own. Her hand reached back and tangled in his hair. Why would she do such a thing?

She was silk against his lips. The taste of her was so sweet it would turn his blood to wine. He was losing control. Focus on her, not himself. What did she want?

He pulled back just far enough that he could speak. "I am not in the habit of playing with dolls… but a marionette is an interesting thing."

"That sounds… good. No thoughts, just a puppet." She leaned against him, limp and pliant.

He ran his hands down her arms, then locked his fingers between hers. He directed her hands, dragging them up her thighs, her stomach, over her breasts, then back down. Her back arched at her own touch.

He sat her up. "Take off your nightgown."

She pulled it over her head and threw it to the side. He drew the blanket around her to defend against the winter chill. His purpose here was to warm her after all.

"Now." He took her chin between his fingers. "Turn your lips to me."

Princess Ivy obeyed this tug on her strings. She twisted and kissed him with a mouth open and ready. Her hand grasped onto the straps across his chest.

"Unbuckle it, if you are so eager," he said.

She did not like it when he pointed out how enthusiastic she was. She glowered at him from under her eyelashes even as she tore off the belts. There was something quite attractive about it.

He pulled his tunic off and put it to the side. "There, now you may warm your hands."

She stroked her fingers up and down his chest. Possibly, it was more than just the temperature that gave him chills. Her lips joined in, pressing against his skin, traveling down his stomach, lower and lower and…

He grasped her by the hair and pulled her head up. He was here for her, not himself. He was the servant, and she was the princess.

And this is how you serve her?

She merely wanted… relief from stress, and he was willing to provide it. She did not want to think, so he obeyed her by commanding her…

And she was such a good little puppet.

The way she closed her eyes when he touched her, as if she was savoring it. The music of her breath as she sighed and moaned. The desperation in her kiss. It was too much for a weak man with an animal nature. The frayed constraints of his self-control snapped.

"Give yourself to me," he said… and she did.

Zelkov watched Princess Ivy out of the corner of his eye as he finished dressing. She sat on the edge of the bed with her nightgown back on. She was staring intently at her folded hands. Once again, she must be regretting her mistake. He tightened the last binding and gave a quick tap to all of his knives to make sure they were in place.

He shrugged on his coat and pulled a box out of a pocket. Contained within were various antidotes, but he had added another vial — purely as a precaution. He held it out to her. She stood up, drank it, and handed it back.

"You see me with my pride in tatters. To call you here… to beg… What must you think of me?" She tried to say this as if it was a joke, but he could hear the undercurrent of a sob.

"I have nothing but respect for you, Princess Ivy."

In his time as her retainer, Zelkov had found her to be intelligent, capable, and surprisingly honest. She had the best interests of her people at heart. If he was to be her one mistake, it could be worse.

She met his eye. "You… mean that."

"You know I am unwilling to lie or flatter."

"Yes, you've made that clear." There was now the hint of a smile.

He did not know what to say or do. It was not as if there was an approved etiquette for leaving a woman's bedroom after a secret tryst. Particularly not when that woman was the crown princess and your liege.

"I should withdraw so that you may rest."

"Ah… hold on. You look like a mess."

He wanted to ask what difference it made, but then she reached up and smoothed his hair into place.

"There," she said, and for a moment her hand cupped his cheek.

There was something like a grinding in his chest. Some long-stilled machinery in his soul began to move.

She looked up at him as if the world had not suddenly shifted in some unexplainable way. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. Ah… Yes. I am fine, Princess Ivy."

"It's been a… trying day for us all. Who knows what tomorrow may bring? Please, get some rest, Zelkov."

"I will do what I can."

He had a strange urge to reach out and touch her, but she had already turned away. There was nothing he could do to alleviate her worries. Her problems were far beyond his power to affect. But if she needed a distraction, if the warmth of another human could provide some comfort, then, please, let it be him.

"If you are ever in need of me… in any way… just say the word, and I will come."

She looked over her shoulder at him. "I'll keep that in mind."

What emotion was it that suffused her "goodbye" as he climbed out the window?

The aura in the castle was oppressive to Kagetsu. This was not what he had expected when asked to become a retainer to Princess Ivy. All these Corrupted did not seem an honorable way to do battle. The dead should rest while the living proved their strength. Should he refuse to take part in this and move on in his journey to see Elyos?

He knocked on Princess Ivy's door. Tansy opened it with a forlorn look. She passed by him without a word. Romance had ruined another friendship for him.

The makeup on her face could not hide the dark circles under Princess Ivy's eyes. Despite her weariness, her spine was as unbending as a blade.

"How are you faring, Princess Ivy?"

"I'm fine."

"Possibly you misunderstand. I was not asking as a polite greeting. I would like to know your true condition."

"Oh! I…" With impressive swiftness, she pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes before the tears could escape. "As you can see, I appear to be falling apart completely. At least in front of my retainers…"

Any thoughts of leaving evaporated. He could not abandon his friend like this.

"We are here to support you. We are shoulders for you to lean upon."

"A princess never leans, Kagetsu. She must stand on her own two feet." Still, the shadow of a smile appeared.

"How exhausting."

"Yes… But I do appreciate the sentiment."

"I could never do any less for my friends."

Her smile brightened and then dimmed. "We must go to the throne room. The king is making an announcement."

Princess Ivy sat on a sort of smaller throne beside King Hyacinth's large one. Once again, she was completely composed as she faced the whole Elusian court. Kagetsu stood behind her against the wall. Zelkov had joined them on the way to the throne room with no explanation for his lateness. He stood nearby without movement. Kagetsu strove to imitate him, but he could not seem to match the stillness of the stalking tiger that Zelkov possessed.

Finally, King Hyacinth addressed the assembled nobles.

"My fellow Elusians, I bring you wondrous news. The Fell Dragon's imprisonment is over at long last. He is risen. He is here. He has already begun to grant us his power. Now is the time to carry out the second stage of our plan. The countries of Elyos that sought to destroy us will now see their comeuppance. The armies of Elusia, bolstered by the troops of the Fell Dragon will march across the continent. We will take the Emblem Rings. And we will finally reign supreme!"

As he said this, King Hyacinth raised his arms and the crowd cheered. When they had quieted, he continued.

"For too long Brodia has waged war against us while Solm and Firene did nothing… while the Divine Dragon sat in Lythos unwilling to lift a finger to aid us. Well, if it is war they want, it is war we shall give them. Victory to Elusia and our Lord Sombron!"

King Hyacinth sat back on his throne. The crowd could not hear it over the cheering, but Kagetsu could hear him laughing, strange and shrill.