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Space compressed like paper crumpling in a fist, then smoothed out again in a different shape. My stomach lurched, aether crackling along my skin like we’d gone an impossible distance, and yet… He still looked composed as ever. No strain.
We stood in a dark stone courtyard.
The shift from Fey-bright streets to this place was jarring. No gradual transition. Just sudden, oppressive stillness. Gothic lanterns cast soft light across carved stone, illuminating a massive estate with a manor that loomed four stories high. Ornate spires reached skyward, but there was only darkness when I looked up. No stars. No moon. No depth to suggest atmosphere or distance. Just black.
"Where… " I started, but something else yanked my attention. The subtle wrongness pressing against my senses like fingers testing the edges of my awareness. The wards hummed against my skin in overlapping waves that almost hurt before fading to a gentle warmth. “...The hell did you take me?”
Sound came muted, dulled, like someone had wrapped the world in cloth, but there was no wind. Not even a breeze. My eyes adjusted as I glanced around. The clearing was massive, surrounded by towering trees that stretched into a horizon that wasn’t quite right.
"My home," Lawrence said quietly, my hand still resting on his arm. "Please take a moment to adjust to the wards. I know they can be a bit much."
Nyla shifted on my shoulder, tail twitching nervously. I scratched below her chin till she eased up a little.
The manor itself was impressive in a way that felt deliberate. Gothic architecture mixed with obvious wealth, carved stone that must have cost a fortune, dark wood accents, windows that reflected the lantern light like watching eyes. Four stories of elegant menace. The kind of place that whispered old money and secrets.
If I gave a shit, I might have been nervous as Lawrence guided me toward the entrance. No guards like that time I visited Queen Aurelline. No servants either. Just silence and that persistent feeling of being watched by something I couldn't see.
The porch wrapped around the manor in a stretch of dark wood and blood-red armchairs. Elegant and comfortable. The kind of furniture that would set me up for life if I managed to escape with it somehow.
And there, in the first chair by the door, sat a woman studying a chessboard like it might confess something.
She peered up as we approached.
White hair streaked with silver caught the lantern light. Red eyes, the same shade as Lawrence's, fixed on me with unsettling focus. She was beautiful. The same kind of perfect features like they'd been carved rather than born. But where Lawrence's danger hid beneath charm, hers sat right on the surface. A blade too sharp not to be seen.
She rose with the same fluid grace that I was used to by now, every movement precise and controlled. Her long-sleeved, silver-etched black dress hung low. Subtly hiding a muscular build.
Nyla hissed, a low warning sound I'd rarely heard from her. Then jumped down from my shoulder, landing behind my legs with her head low and tail bushed out.
"Sorry," I said, not sounding sorry at all. "She can be skittish at times." A lie. Nyla wasn't skittish. She was scared. If I valued my life, I might have been as well, but right now… I couldn't give a shit if I tried.
The woman's expression softened slightly. "Oh, the poor thing. I'll have the kitchen fetch her a treat."
Lawrence stepped forward, one hand gesturing with practiced formality. "Please allow me to introduce you to Isvood. Your host and Lady of the House."
How formal. I hoped he didn't expect me to curtsy or care about her title. If he wanted me to behave, he should have mentioned it earlier.
Isvood extended her hand, smile smooth and deliberate. "And this must be Remy." Her voice carried the same cultured cadence as Lawrence's. "I've heard a great deal about you."
Her skin felt cool to the touch as I shook the offered hand. "All good things, I hope."
"Certainly." Her smile warmed, or at least appeared to. "Dawn will be down soon, if you'd like to join her at the table." She gestured vaguely toward the manor before settling back into her chair, returning her attention to the chessboard.
Dawn. The blue-eyed woman who communicated in flowers. She was nice, and at least I wouldn’t be expected to make small talk with her.
Lawrence leaned against the porch railing, studying the board with some interest. "Should I ask what you're working on there?"
"Oh, it's only a recent puzzle I stumbled across." Isvood moved the white knight, tilting her head at the result.
I stared at the board. At her, and the obvious setup playing out in front of me. It pissed me off more than it should have. If she meant to test me with a meaningless game, she should just say so. "You often play two-person games by yourself?" I muttered, tone dry as bone.
Isvood's smirk was immediate. "When I must. Avery and Violet aren't here yet, and Dawn doesn't share my enthusiasm." She glanced up at Lawrence. "Perhaps you'd care for a game, Lawrence?"
Lawrence? Maybe I’m overthinking this. "He does seem to enjoy playing games. I can't get him to stop."
Lawrence's expression shifted, amusement dancing in those red eyes, as Isvood's smirk grew into something close to a chuckle "Do you play, Remy?" he asked smoothly.
There it is.
"Chess?" I needlessly clarified. "Once or twice. Cards. Dice. There are easier ways to lose your coin."
"I didn't take you for a gambler," Lawrence muttered, taking a step towards the railing.
"I'm not, but that's the only reason I know to play it."
Isvood tilted her head, expression thoughtful. "That is interesting, but you'll find no wagers here."
"No monetary ones, I imagine."
What is my problem? I couldn't shake the annoyance at what was obviously some stupid assessment. These people and their subtle manipulation dressed up as hospitality. Both of them smiled, small, knowing expressions that made me want to flip the damn board.
"Well then..." Isvood began resetting the pieces with an ease that contrasted her demeanor. "Could I interest you in a friendly game?"
I stared at her for a long moment. At the board. At Lawrence, leaning against the railing with barely contained enthusiasm.
Whatever. This was clearly what he wanted, so I sat down.
Isvood placed the white pieces facing me. An advantage, or a statement. Hard to tell which. "No obligation," she said softly, meeting my eyes. "Of course."
The words hit like cold water. The same ones that were scribbled on the note that came with the dress. "Of course," I echoed, unamused.
Lawrence settled more comfortably against the railing, that enthusiastic smile still playing at his lips. Like watching me was the most entertaining thing he'd done all week.
I studied the board, trying to remember the last time I'd actually played.
Damn. I expected games, but not literal ones.
"Your move, dear," Isvood said, with a delighted smile.
I met her gaze. Held it. Let her see exactly how thrilled I was to be playing along with whatever test this was supposed to be.
Fine. Let's play.
…
We began by fighting for the most important territory, the center. I was an amateur at best, but I knew that much, so I pushed forward, establishing what little pressure I could manage. Isvood matched me move for move, her pieces flowing with the kind of ease that came from owning the board. I’d try for space, and she’d counter. Her hand always moving before I'd finished placing mine down.
We continued in near silence. Just the soft click of wood against wood, and the muted sounds of pieces being set aside. Until her king was castled safely to the side of the board, and I couldn’t move mine without giving something up. Even if we were equal in material. I was completely losing in position. I studied, trying to find some trick or clever combination that would level things out, but found none. When I finally looked up, there was a warm yet infuriating smirk plastered across Isvood’s face.
"Am I that entertaining?" I asked flatly.
"You're doing well." She replied.
"No need to lie."
"I've never been one for flattery, dear."
"I guess Lawrence does enough of that for both of you then." I quipped, voice laced with sarcasm.
Her smirk widened. "He's not causing you any trouble, is he?"
"Worse. He's been delightful." Even if it's fake.
I accepted the momentary loss and began offering trades, hoping to strip away her structure so we'd be close to even again, but she only took when it benefited her. Every exchange calculated to improve her advantage. Every move a methodical tightening of the noose. No piece out of place, and let's be honest… I’ve never been all that smart.
"So..." I said, slightly curious but mostly just filling the silence. "Lawrence called this home. Do you also live here?"
"I did. Some centuries ago." She moved her bishop into an annoying diagonal. "Now it's more of a vacation home."
Centuries. That should have shocked me, but I just tucked the information away for later. For a time when I might care about things like ‘how old these people are’, or how the fuck this could be considered a vacation home, but today was not that day.
"Well, it looks lovely," I muttered, glancing at the manor's gothic spires. "From the outside, at least." Who was I kidding? This place was nicer than the Queen's estate, and it was stripped of all the unnecessary gimmicks. Just pure comfort and wealth.
"Now who's fishing for flattery?" Isvood's tone was surprisingly light.
Our game continued the same way. Me struggling. Her improving. The gap widening with every exchange. Eventually, I sat back in my chair and saw it. How it would end. It wasn’t checkmate, not yet, but the loss was inevitable. The only question was how many moves it would take.
She knew it too. But she wasn't looking at the board anymore. Her eyes were on me, wearing a grin that was unsettling in the way it was warm.
Then the door creaked open, and a blur of color stormed out. A small child with ashen grey skin, splotchy rainbow hair that looked like someone had let her loose with paint. She had small bat-like wings and a scowl like she was late for something very important.
"A kitty!" the girl announced, dropping her parchment and two sticks of coloring wax on the porch like they'd personally betrayed her, then beelined straight for Nyla, who'd been lying under my chair this whole time.
Nyla hissed but didn't retreat. Just flattened her ears and watched as the tiny chaos creature approached, and began gently petting her with tiny hands.
“Uhh, yeah.” I blinked. "Her name is Nyla."
Lawrence crouched to her level. "Elza, would you like to introduce yourself to our guest?"
She ignored him completely. Turning away from Nyla to plop herself directly into my lap like it was her birthright. "Cat lady is losing," she said as if it were a fact, and it was.
I instinctively braced her with one arm, too stunned to do anything else. "Know your stuff, huh? What do you think I should do?"
Elza shrugged, small wings fluttering. "Give up."
That got me. I laughed. Actually laughed. A genuine chuckle escaped my lips before I could stop it, the sound surprising me almost as much as her answer had. "Okay," I said, still smiling. "Well, let's say I don't want to give up. What then?"
"Pawn to H3." She pointed at the board with surprising authority. "Your back row is weak."
My brow furrowed. "What's H3?"
"That one." She jabbed her finger at the far right pawn.
"Ahh." I studied for a moment. "But I'll lose a rook."
Elza motioned with her arms in an exaggerated shrug. "Yep. And then you shake hands. All done."
I eyed her, this tiny chess prodigy who'd invaded my personal space in the most adorable way possible. "Whose kid is this?"
"Avery and Violet's," Lawrence said with a smirk.
"I'm caring for her while they're away," Isvood added, voice warmer than before.
Elza leaned back against me like she'd always belonged there, settling in like this was perfectly normal. "Is Nyla gonna stay?" she asked, craning her neck to look up at me.
I measured my words carefully. "For dinner, yeah."
She threw her arms up. "Yaaay!" Then hopped down from my lap with a child-like stomp. "You're better than the last one."
I blinked. "The last what?"
Lawrence cleared his throat from behind me. "Oh. Look at that. Dinner's ready." I eyed him as he snatched Elza up in one smooth motion and went for the door without waiting for anyone.
Suspicious didn't even begin to cover it. I still didn't know what the hell I was doing here, but I let it go. Why bother?
Isvood stood as Lawrence made his way inside, extending her hand across the board. "A draw then?"
I turned my king over on its side, tipping it with a soft click against the wood before shaking her hand. "Good game, Isvood."
…
The dining hall opened before us like something out of a fever dream.
The long obsidian table was polished and perfect. Warm light from floating crystal chandeliers cast everything in gold, softening the gothic edges just enough to feel welcoming. A fire roared at one end of the room, crackling with heat that didn't quite reach where we stood.
And sprawled in one of the high-backed chairs like a lounging cat was Dawn. She had a glass of wine in one hand, legs crossed, completely relaxed in a way I'd never seen from her.
"Finally," she exclaimed as Lawrence moved into the room. Elza up on his shoulders. "I was about to eat without you." Then her eyes locked on mine. She stood in one fluid motion, crossing the room to pull me into a light hug. "Remy! It's so good to see you again!"
I stood there, stunned, as she pulled back. "Dawn." I blinked. "The hell... What happened to the daffodil speak?"
"The wards here make it so I don't accidentally hurt anyone," she said simply, gesturing vaguely at the walls.
My brow furrowed. "You need wards for that?"
Lawrence set Elza down, and she ran out to get something. "Her words carry power, even if she doesn't intend them to.” He continued. “A blessing and a curse. Anyway, this estate remains the only place she can speak freely."
Dawn's expression flattened. "Thanks for that, Lawrence. I definitely didn't want to tell her myself."
He paused, something genuinely apologetic flickering across his face. "Apologies. Go ahead."
"Well..." Dawn let out a theatrical sigh. "Seems like you got the gist of it."
I couldn’t help but study her as she turned away. "I take it he talks over you a lot?"
"An understatement." She reached out as she passed Lawrence, ruffling his carefully styled hair with obvious affection. The white strands fell loose around his face in complete disarray. "Your bun's a mess. If you're going to seduce someone later, you should at least put some effort into it."
Isvood chuckled softly from across the table, taking her seat with that same fluid grace.
I side-eyed Lawrence, trying not to think too far into the comment as I eased down in the chair next to him. "Working up some plans I don't know about?"
For the first time since I'd met him, Lawrence looked genuinely flustered. He let down his hair, shaking his head before smoothing it back into place. "There will be no seductions happening. Thank you, Dawn."
She winked. "Anytime."
Elza barreled back into the room with a fresh piece of parchment clutched in both hands, making a direct line for me. Before I could move, she'd climbed into my lap again, settling like this was her designated seat. Not that I minded. She was a cute kid. Well-mannered despite the unapologetic boldness and frigid honesty.
"Whatcha drawing?" I asked, looking down at the aggressive scribbles taking shape.
"This is you." She pointed with one waxy finger. "And this is me. And this is Nyla."
I studied the stick figures. "That's... cute. Looks like you really put a lot of detail into my mouth there."
"I gave you a big frowny face because you're the most sad."
The words hit like a stone dropped into still water. "...Oh…"
Elza looked up at me with those big, unnerving eyes. "Why are you sad?"
I imagine it was a simple question for a kid, but my throat closed tight and immediate. Words evaporated, and so I just stared at her. At this tiny creature who'd somehow managed to see straight through me, and ask a question too deep for me to answer.
"Elza," Isvood said gently, voice warm but firm. "Why don't you come sit over here, please, darling?"
"No!" Elza clutched the parchment tighter. "This one's fun. I don't want to."
"Elza." Her brow rose.
"I'll be good. I swear."
Isvood’s demeanor changed then. Something motherly but absolute. "I won’t say it again." Silence dropped over the room like a curtain. Not threatening exactly, but the kind of quiet that made it very clear who was in charge.
Elza groaned, sliding down from my lap in a dramatic huff. "...Sorwy… "
The door opened a moment later, and two figures entered.
The one with wings moved first. Dark grey skin one shade lighter than charcoal, purple eyes that caught the light, long dark hair pulled back in a practical braid, and bat-like wings tucked tight against their back. They were dressed for war. Armor clean and well-maintained but clearly used, and carried themselves with the easy confidence of someone who knew how to handle the spear-like weapon they set carefully against the wall.
The other was sun-kissed but pale in comparison. Similarly dark hair, but she had elvish features, with bright orange eyes that practically glowed. Knives sheathed down her legs.
They held hands as they walked in, a casual intimacy that spoke of years together. That and their armor matched in a deliberate, cute couple kind of way.
"Yay! Papa, come meet Nyla!" Elza rushed toward the winged figure, who scooped her up with practiced ease.
"What's this, sweetie?" They glanced at the parchment still clutched in Elza's hand. "Did you draw something nice?"
"It's not for you!” She turned in his arms. “Don't look at it, I'm not finished yet!"
"Alright. Okay." They smiled with infinite patience. "Well, it's time to eat now. You can work on it when you've finished your food."
Elza’s expression shifted to a pout of acceptance.
The other one turned to me, offering an apologetic smile. "Sorry we're late." They extended a hand. "And you are..."
I stood, shaking both their hands in turn. "Remy. Pleasure to meet you."
"Violet." The winged one's grip was calloused and cold. "The pleasure's mine."
"Avery." The elf’s smile was warm and reached their eyes. "I hope we didn't keep you waiting."
"Just enough time for Isvood to whoop my..." I glanced at Elza, still watching from Violet's arms. "...beat me in a game of chess."
Isvood's expression warmed in a way that made me wonder why she was being so nice. "You put up a good fight, dear."
Violet's eyebrows rose. "What's this? Must have made quite the impression to receive one of Isvood's famed compliments."
Avery settled into their seat across from us. "A rare commodity indeed."
I sat back down, studying them from across the table. "She seems intent on flattery. Though I can't figure out why."
"I do no such thing," Isvood said with a dismissive grin.
Lawrence leaned back in his chair. "I thought you two would get along well."
Dawn snorted into her wine. "He means to say you're both as stubborn as a mule."
"However true that may be," He muttered, eyebrows raised. "It is certainly not what I meant."
"Maybe if you didn't speak in circles, I wouldn't have to interpret your jibber jabber." Dawn fired back, playful but sharp.
Isvood's chuckle was soft and genuine. "Yes. Well. Everyone's here." She clapped her hands twice. "Let's eat."
Servants materialized from doorways that were barely noticeable against the wall, carrying platters of food that smelled incredible. Large cuts of steak, perfectly seared. Roasted vegetables glazed in something that caught the light. Bread still steaming from the oven. A feast of a meal.
My plate arrived with a cup of herbal tea that smelled earthy and warm.
…
The meal began with a strange kind of rhythm.
Isvood sat, not distinguished in any way. Not even at the head of the table. She mostly stayed quiet, content to observe with that same warm smile playing at her lips. She'd occasionally make a comment, but mostly just attended to the servants and laughed when someone tossed out a joke or snide comment.
Dawn, on the other hand, couldn't seem to help herself. She plagued Lawrence with jabs like he was the favorite child and desperately needed his ego bruised.
Elza ate with surprising etiquette at first, small bites, napkin in her lap, sitting up straight like someone had drilled proper table manners into her. It lasted approximately three minutes before she decided the knife and fork were unnecessary obstacles. She eventually grabbed her steak with both hands and tore into it like a tiny, well-dressed carnivore.
No one commented. Violet just smiled fondly and went back to feeding Avery a bite of their own meal, as if we weren’t all eating the same thing. I couldn’t help but watch them for a moment. The way they leaned into each other, the casual intimacy, sharing food, and soft looks between bites. It was almost sickeningly sweet. But there was something genuine about it that made it bearable.
Nyla had abandoned my shoulder entirely and was prowling under the table, drawn by the irresistible lure of everyone holding out pieces of meat for her to snatch. Even Isvood slipped her a particularly nice cut with a quiet smile.
No one talked about work, business, or anything remotely serious. The servants appeared only to clear plates and refill glasses, receiving quiet thanks each time they did.
The whole time I was just waiting for someone to pop out and reveal it’s all been a screenplay. One I couldn’t stop analyzing. Not because they were strange or intimidating, but because they were too warm. Too welcoming. Too easy.
"You're quiet over there, Remy," Dawn said eventually, eyes glinting with amusement. "Are we boring you already?"
I met her gaze. "You're doing enough talking for the both of us.” And immediately regretted my tone, so I tried to soften it. “I mean, I’m more than happy to fade into the background."
"My experience would say otherwise," Lawrence chimed in with a smirk.
I shot him a look.
"Don't patronize our guest." Isvood’s attention finally fell to me, as she donned a smile. "Now, Remy. I'm curious what you think of the tea. It's a personal brew."
I glanced at the cup sitting untouched beside my plate. "I figured that much."
"She hasn't tried it," Lawrence chimed in like he could feel my paranoia.
"Look at you." I turned to him, voice laced with sarcasm. "Want a gold star for paying attention?"
I'm really not giving two shits tonight, am I?
A silence settled over the table. Not uncomfortable, exactly, but something.
Avery's voice was surprisingly casual when she spoke next. "She’s worried it's been drugged."
"Goodness, Lawrence," Isvood said quickly, though her tone was more amused than concerned. "What have you done to make her think so negatively of us?"
Dawn leaned back in her chair, grinning. "That's it. I'm calling for a change in leadership."
"I second the notion," Violet raised their glass playfully. "Can we get a third?"
Avery rolled their eyes but played along, raising one hand in mock solemnity.
"Our drinks are different," Lawrence said evenly. "Any one of us would think the same thing in her position."
"Ours is the same," Avery offered, gesturing to their own cup of tea. "I don't mind switching with you, Remy."
"That would be very kind," Lawrence nodded. "Thank you."
I turned to look at him directly. "Why not yours?"
He paused a beat before shaking his head. "You will not enjoy what I am having."
"You don't know that." I shot back.
Dawn's grin widened. "Yeah, Lawrence. You don't know that."
"Yeah, Lawrence," Violet echoed, clearly enjoying this. "What are you so afraid of?"
"Looking a little sweaty there, Lawrence," Dawn added. “Got something to hide?”
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just trust me, will you?"
Any playfulness I might have had evaporated as something cold settled in my chest, and my voice turned to gravel. "Fucking switch with me. I'm not asking."
Great idea. Provoke the guy who could probably kill you with a thought.
The tension that followed was an immediate and suffocating contrast to Violet and Dawn’s unapologetic grins. They both looked like this was the best dinner theater they'd seen in years.
"She said a bad word," Elza whispered loudly.
Avery gently hushed her.
Lawrence stared at me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind those red eyes. Then, with reluctant slowness, he slid his glass to me and raised my cup of tea to his lips, draining half of it in one long swallow. "Always an interesting time with you around," he said quietly. Though I caught something like a proud smirk on his face.
Everyone watched as I picked up his glass and brought it close enough to smell. I knew what it was before it touched my lips.
Blood. Of course.
Maybe it should have bothered me, but it wasn’t surprising. I never wanted to name it, but I always knew, and so the simple confirmation almost felt like relief.
I took a sip anyway.
It was smooth. Glided down like water, despite the coppery tang I recognized from coughing up my own more times than I cared to count. My stomach turned slightly, but I kept my expression neutral. "You were right," I motioned, setting the glass down and sliding it back. "That's much too rich for my tastes."
Lawrence placed mine back without comment.
"I like this one," Violet said before lacing his voice with mocking enthusiasm. "Do make it work, won't you, Lawrence?"
He sighed through his nose, something almost fond in the gesture. "Gods be damned."
Dawn nudged him playfully. "Feeling a little flustered over there, hmm, Lawrence?"
"No. No.” His head shook with a reluctant grin, as he bowed dramatically, “...Feel free to enjoy yourselves at my expense."
I ignored them, picking up my tea and taking a proper gulp. It was earthy and sweet. As decadent as the rest of the meal. "The tea is refreshing. Thank you."
Isvood's smile returned, warm and genuine. "I'm so glad to hear you say that. The leaves grow right here in our garden. If you like, I'll have the chef pack you some to take home tonight."
"I…" Just be pleasant for once. “...Would appreciate that very much.”
Isvood nodded with a smile.
"So where are you staying?" Avery asked, seamlessly moving the conversation along.
As if they don't already know. "I'm currently sharing a house on Floor Two."
"Oh, I love that floor!" Avery's eyes lit up. "So bright and lively. Could I swing by sometime?"
"Yeah. For sure." I blinked, hoping she was just being polite. “So, do you all work together?”
"Mhmm.” She responded cheerfully. “Violet and I handle logistics mostly. Distribution, supply, the boring stuff." Then pointed at Lawrence with her glass. “He's better at explaining the business side than I am."
Look at me making small talk. I turned to Lawrence. “What kinda business? What do you sell?"
"Our family, being diverse as it is, deals in many commodities." He didn't miss a beat. "Goods. Services."
“Protection,” Dawn added with a wink that made me think I should stop asking questions.
“Uh-huh.”
A pause settled. Not awkward, but quiet.
Then…
"FUCKING!" Elza shouted, like I’d let her in on the greatest word in existence.
Another pause. This one significantly more tense, and only softened by Elza’s giggling.
I closed my eyes briefly. "Guess that's my fault."
"Don't be so quick to take the blame.” Lawrence pointed across the table at Dawn, then at Violet. “We all know that's on you, and you."
"FUCK!" Elza tested the word again, delighted.
Avery shook her head at her with the patience of someone who'd been through this before. "Well then. If you'll excuse me, I think it's past your bedtime."
"No. I caused this.” Violet took over before she could stand. Kissed Avery softly, then scooped Elza up in one smooth motion. “I'll fuckin' handle it."
Elza gasped. "Papa. No."
"Mhmm. Let's get you to bed."
"My picture," Elza reached her hand out through a yawn.
Violet lowered her like a crane toward the table, allowing Elza to clutch the parchment with both hands, holding it close to her chest. "Goodnight, Nyla."
A chorus of "Goodnight" followed them out.
…
The dinner wound down in the way all good meals do, slow and reluctant, like no one really wanted it to end, but the servants were already clearing the table.
Dawn stood first, stretching her arms overhead with a dramatic yawn. "Well, I'm calling it. Thanks for the entertainment, Remy."
I blinked. "Entertainment?"
"Watching Lawrence squirm is a rare treat." She crossed to where I sat and, without warning, pulled me into a brief hug, a real one. Not the polite, formal kind. "Thanks for coming. I mean it."
I stood awkwardly, unsure what to do with my hands. "Lawrence kinda dragged me here, but... you're welcome. I mean, I had a good time."
"He's a knucklehead," Dawn muttered, pulling back with a fond smile. "But he's also my brother, so be nice to him sometimes, alright?"
Brother. Right. That explains things. "Yeah. Sure. Of course."
Dawn gave me one last grin before heading toward the door, leaving me standing there feeling strangely... seen.
Violet offered a respectful nod on his way out with Avery. "It was a pleasure, Remy. Don't be a stranger."
Avery waved cheerfully. "I meant what I said about visiting Floor Two, alright?"
"Right," I managed before they disappeared down the corridor.
Then it was just Isvood, Lawrence, and me.
A thin, blond-haired servant handed me a sealed jug wrapped in ornate red cloth, still warm to the touch. He bowed and left so quickly I could hardly say thank you.
"The tea," Isvood said simply. "For your journey home."
"Thank you." I held the jug carefully, feeling its weight. "And... sorry if I started off kinda snappy. You've been a gracious host."
"You've been lovely, dear." Her smile was warm, genuine. Then softer: "You're welcome at our table, any time."
A breathy chuckle escaped my lips. A desperate attempt to dismiss how nice everyone was being. "I'm sure you'd get tired of me if you haven't already."
Isvood's smile widened, just enough to show the sharp points of her canines. "I doubt that very much, dear." Then reached out, squeezing my shoulder gently. "Go on now, before I try to keep you."
I managed a stiff, uneasy smile. "Right."
Lawrence was already at my side, one hand gesturing toward the door. “Shall we?”
I let him lead me through the corridors and the main room that donned a large staircase. Finally, we passed the porch where the chessboard still sat. The pieces exactly as we'd left them. Outside, the false sky pressed down, still black and starless.
Lawrence stopped at the edge of the courtyard and turned to face me. "Well, Remy. I suppose all good things must come to an end."
I squinted at him, still waiting for… Something. "That's it?"
"That is all." He smiled. "I do hope you enjoyed yourself."
I watched him, searching for some kind of angle or trick. "You're serious?"
He chuckled low. "You came for dinner. We dined. Our deal is fulfilled."
"But I didn't do anything."
He extended his hand then, palm up and patient. "This is all I asked of you, Remy. I’ll take you home now.”
Hmm. I moved to take his hand, but feeling the faint brush of the soulstone bracelet against my wrist, stopped me in my tracks.
Home.
My chest cracked at the thought of it. The place where everyone cares. Where love is so fractured, I can barely speak without my heart threatening to shatter. Where Eshlyn buries herself in research, trying to fix everything. Where Lyssa keeps cooking meals I can't taste, and Val looks at me like I'm a ghost he's trying to summon back from the dead.
I'd laughed today. Really laughed. Smiled. Spoke my mind without weighing the damage it might cause. I'd been abrasive and paranoid. Probably rude, but easily more myself than anytime at home. It’s like I'd gotten a single breath of fresh air, and he was asking me to go back to drowning.
The inches between my hand and his might as well have been a canyon.
"Remy?" Lawrence leaned in, voice quiet.
"I...uhh.” The realization snagged my throat, leaving barely a whisper. "I don't want to."
His brows furrowed. "You don't want to?"
I swallowed hard, the admission scraping its way out. "Maybe I could... " The word wouldn’t form. “Would it be okay if I…”
"Remy." His voice was gentle and firm all at once, cutting through my spiral. "You're more than welcome to stay the night."
Just for tonight. I tried to convince myself. I’ll go back tomorrow.
…But I knew it was a lie.
"Thank you."