Zelda's eyes followed the faint light of dawn stretching down the path to her home; this time she wasn't interested in watching the sunrise from her house's backyard.
Her heart filled with fear and hope that horses would wander down the path with her Eldric safe and alive among them.
She adjusted on the long bench she waited on; Sirence was gradually stirring with questions.
From the kings' guests who had come to spend time in their home but left quickly, it was only later ascertained by the soldiers that they had actually escaped.
Now Eldric had disappeared, but his friends had promised her they would bring news today.
She had been restless the entire night, especially when the soldiers had spoken in hushed tones about his mission to investigate the resistance homes.
Her fingers tightened around the rich yellow yarn scarf draped over her white cotton nightdress as a cool gust of wind swept past.
Beneath the fabric, her toes curled for warmth.
Then finally, her ears caught the sound of horses—definitely a carriage approaching down the path.
She stood up, almost rising to her toes as two brown horses' heads came into view first, before the soldiers on them appeared fully, their red and white uniforms intact.
Zelda felt a little hope.
Maybe things weren't as bad as she thought.
Two white horses came next and a large silver metal cage came into view on the long wheeled plank they carried.
Behind them, followed two more soldiers mounted on white-and-brown horses—none of them Eldric, all intact, no blood on them.
She stretched her toes further, searching for anyone else coming down the path, but there was nothing.
That was the last of them.
Where was Eldric?
Her eyes shifted to the soldiers now in front of her home, both dismounting with skeptical glances before one stepped forward.
Greyham.
One of Eldric's friends.
Zelda hated the look on his face instantly, but still managed to speak through trembling lips, clutching her scarf tight in hope for good news.
"Where…where is he?" she asked.
Greyham paused before her, his fists tightening and loosening at his sides, eyes avoiding hers.
"We only brought him back because the kings said we should," he said quietly. "He's in really bad shape, Zelda."
Zelda didn't wait.
She stepped off the porch, walking past him toward the others.
"Then where is he?" she pressed, still searching with her eyes. "Let's take him to the medics. The hospital will know what to do."
The moment she passed the two white horses, a loud bang and growl came from the cage they carried, and Zelda gasped as she fell to the floor in fear.
The soldier who had stood with Greyham quickly moved to help her up.
But before he could, Zelda locked eyes with the animal peeping through the tiny square bars at the top of the cage.
Familiar green eyes set in brown fur held her gaze as the soldier helped her up.
The creature lunged again, slamming into the cage.
The soldier steadied her as it snarled.
Hungry.
Restless.
Too large.
No animal should fill a cage like that.
The rattling of stones beneath its weight echoed after the impact.
Zelda turned to the soldier by her side, recognizing him.
Richard.
Another of Eldric's friends.
"Richard?" Zelda asked, questions heavy in her eyes.
"A hospital can't help what he is now, Zelda," Richard admitted, swallowing hard.
"I don't understand," she whispered, her gaze flickering between him and the cage.
"He was bitten," Richard revealed. "By a werewolf."
Her heart sank.
Then—
"Please let me out!" Eldric's voice cried from within. "Let me die a man!"
"Eldric!" Zelda called back.
She pulled away from Richard, reaching for the cage—only to jerk back from the searing heat of it.
The brutal force of the creature's impact hit the side of the cage where she had touched, making her flinch backward as Richard reached for her again.
"Let him out!" she cried, clinging to Richard for balance as damp grass soaked the lower hem of her nightdress below her ankles. "Why is he in there with that animal?"
Richard's jaw tightened.
"He is the animal, Zelda. Flame—consecrated coal tars…and silver…are the only things keeping him contained."
Her voice broke.
"It's still him, isn't it? It's still Eldric, he shouldn't be in there."
"This has to be goodbye," Richard said hoarsely.
She stared at the cage. Twenty years.
Twenty years of love.
Of the unexpected romance between a rising soldier and a florist whom everyone had teased for being a hopeless romantic—until she met him.
She had ever only wanted a quiet life with him, and for a long time, she had almost forgotten the price of war.
His duty.
Now, the sacrifice of his humanity meant death.
"Then you will put me in with him," she said.
"No!" Richard snapped, tightening his grip around her.
She shoved against him.
"I'm not saying goodbye, I'm choosing to go with him—or I swear I will curse every one of you and your kings for the rest of my life."
"You do not speak of the kings of Sirence in that manner," Richard warned.
"Then make my death with him my punishment," she fired back, tears rising. "I'll take this as the mercy that they have shown my husband and I as loyal citizens of Sirence."
"Zelda!" Eldric whimpered again from within.
She snapped her head back to the cage at the same time as Richard.
Zelda seized the opportunity and snatched Richard's rifle, pulling it free in a swift motion.
She faced him as she backed toward the cage, aiming between the concerned men, her hands trembled as her scarf slipped from her shoulders.
"Put me in with him!" she yelled, tears spilling down her cheeks, her gaze locked on Richard as he was closest to her.
"Don't test me," she added. "I know how to use this."
But Richard moved, and she cocked the rifle quickly, shooting one of the white horses in the leg.
A loud neigh followed, making the carriage tilt, and Eldric slammed hard against the unyielding cage.
Richard froze.
Zelda aimed back at him, her eyes shifting between the other soldiers dismounting and Greyham stepping closer.
"We can do this back and forth," Zelda said. "And I promise I won't keep wasting bullets on horses. Eventually, you'll still have to kill me with your own hands."
She cocked the rifle again and aimed.
Richard raised his hands in surrender, his expression tight as a flicker of panic shook his stance.
She knew they could overpower her, but she hoped they could hear the pain beneath her threat—her desperate attempt to leave with her heart, knowing the turmoil coming to Sirence would still claim her.
It was better now—together with Eldric.
Richard turned to the two other soldiers, nodding for them to stand back.
"You can't be serious," Greyham said.
Richard faced him. "I don't think either of us knows entirely what is happening here, Greyham."
"Ahhh!" Eldric's cries echoed from within. "Cut off my head instead! This is torture!"
Zelda stepped backward, closer to the cage. Still carefully aiming between the men.
"Which of us expected a loyal captain to be discarded in such a gruesome manner, and worst of all because he's something we don't recognize?" Richard asked.
Zelda understood.
He was also suggesting, too, that Eldric might still recognize her…and become tame.
"This is murder," Greyham snapped. "You know very well Eldric is no longer a man. He's a beast."
Richard returned his gaze to Zelda. "At least there's someone desperate enough to prove us wrong."
Hope filled her.
She would still get to see him, no matter what he was.
"There will be no time to waste," Richard said. "You enter the moment the latch slides open."
Zelda nodded and the injured horse neighed again, blood already streaking its white coat.
"There are coal tars in there, Zelda!" Greyham said. "You will not make it."
She ignored him, backing up as Richard moved closer until they reached the back of the carriage.
The rest of the men stood frozen, unsure whether from hope or dread.
No one could tell, but deep down, they longed to see if there could be a way to control the chaos that loomed over Sirence.
Richard stopped at the edge of the cage, reaching for the large iron latch set into the silver.
"Come closer, Zelda," he said.
Zelda lowered the rifle and moved closer to him.
Their eyes met.
"Thank you for your friendship," he whispered, struggling to hold back emotion.
Zelda's gaze dropped to the latch, waiting.
Then—
He took the rifle from her grasp.
Her surprise flashed briefly before Richard moved again, pressing down on the latch with brute force, ignoring the heat searing from the cage.
"Now, Zelda!" he yelled, forcing the latch up and cracking the dark interior.
The growls inside tensified, and Zelda barely had time to think before the door began to close.
In that moment, she jumped into the searing coal tars, the skin on her feet burning instantly as she stepped ankle-deep into them.
Darkness and the scent of burning flesh filled her senses before the door slammed shut behind her.
Even if she survived, they would both bear scars.
She stretched her arms forward as she moved deeper, guided only by the faint glow of the coals beneath their feet which revealed the dark silhouette of a man.
Dawn's light refused to reach inside, its glow blocked despite the small square window.
"My love," she whispered, hope strong enough to ignore the burning pain in her feet as she moved toward him.
He was still—still a man?
Hope surged in her chest and she moved faster, desperate to reach him, to tell the others that he had recognized her, he could still be saved.
The last thing that flashed before reaching him was a sudden strike she hadn't expected, slamming her hard against the side of the cage.
Outside, Richard closed his eyes as Zelda's screams echoed from within.
The soldiers lowered their heads, dejected, as the outcome settled over them—and the uncertain future of Sirence.
**
Theo raised his head where he stood in the spacious royal kitchen, his back pressed lightly against the wall.
The air was thick, with a rich, mouth-watering aroma.
Three long, narrow tables with white tops stretched across the room, each assigned a distinct purpose.
The first—flour-dusted, dedicated to baking.
The second—lined with meats, spices, and sizzling oils.
The third—arranged with vegetables and beverages.
Everything moved in rhythm.
A chef's cap and nose mask concealed most of Theo's face—perfect for remaining unnoticed while he searched Elana's exact location to report back to Eira.
The kitchen was crowded.
Busy.
No one paid him any attention.
Morning sunlight poured in through the windows.
A perfect time for movement and observation while everyone was in a rush.
"Help for Miss Elana's room," a voice called from the entrance, cutting through the flour-filled air.
Theo raised his hand immediately, catching sight of the woman who matched his target.
A woman in her fifties, wearing a wine-colored dress that matched her lipstick.
Her dark hair was tightly pinned up, heavy makeup settling into the lines of her face, worsened by her proud frown.
She dropped her hand when she saw his raised hand.
He understood and crossed the room to meet her at the entrance.
She stepped back slightly, chin still lifted in pride.
"Wheel the trolley after me," she said.
Then Theo noticed the trolley at her side, carrying covered dishes—porcelain plates beneath stainless half-circle covers—-stacked neatly on a black rolling frame.
He gripped the handles as she walked ahead.
Then he followed, pushing the trolley down the wide hallway of concrete floor and tall windows overlooking the outside.
They reached the end of the hall where two parts split upward: a staircase with golden rails and red-gold embroidered carpet, and a stone ramp covered with a thinner red-brown rug.
The woman took the stairs.
Theo, literally rolling his eyes, took the ramp, following behind her as the cold palace walls warmed under the morning sun.
As they climbed, she muttered under her breath, though not directed at him in words he could fully hear.
It still irritated him.
She didn't deem him worthy of conversation, only obedience.
He would have enjoyed eliminating her if he weren't undercover and couldn't afford slips due to Azael already suspecting.
He gritted his teeth.
What made Azael so special—besides his power?
To Theo, it was cowardice to have such strength and not use it.
Eira needed someone who would push power to its limits.
The woman's footsteps stopped and he raised his head.
They had reached the third floor.
She moved down the hallway, decorated with red and gold embroidery, passing several wooden doors until they reached the designated room.
Theo had counted five doors before they reached the door of Elana's room—the second door from the opposite end.
The woman sighed.
"Lord help me to tolerate this unfortunate soul that thinks she is special," she muttered. "Save me from sin as I endure this incomplete and impure human. Amen."
Theo grimaced beneath his mask. Even he, not particularly religious, found that unsettling.
She pushed the door and walked in.
Theo followed, guiding the trolley carefully before him.
A faint scent of nightbloom lingered in the room as the door shut behind him.
Then he saw her.
Elana.
Seated upright against the bed's headboard, already awake, ginger hair framed her pretty face, her posture tense.
Her grey, sightless eyes flickered toward the sound of their entrance, searching.
One hand clutched the cream cotton blanket tightly around her despite the light nightdress resting against her golden-toned shoulders.
"W-who's there?" she asked.
Her voice was soft.
But alert.
"Even your own security is uncertain," the woman replied coldly as she approached the tall brown bedside table, built high enough for someone to eat comfortably from the bed.
"Lady Vivianne…" Elana said after a pause, her voice easing slightly. "Goodmorning. I'd appreciate it if you knock before entering my room."
Vivianne scoffed as Theo placed the dishes on the table.
"I don't blame you," Vivianne said, pulling open the cabinet beneath it to reveal an assortment of medicines.
She placed them on the table and began preparing them while Theo set down the food.
"The result of your witchcraft that summoned a demon deludes you," Vivianne continued. "A slave thinking she has the right to privacy. If you were born here, I would have fed you to the dogs before you turned a month old."
Theo paused before stepping back, disturbed by the cruelty of Vivianne's words.
He had thought disabled people were treated better.
But in Lumere, it seemed they were considered lesser.
"At least you noticed," Elana said.
Theo looked up.
He hadn't expected her to respond.
"At least you noticed the demon has this kingdom under his mercy," Elana continued calmly. "Privacy is where I draw the line before I take my concerns to him."
Vivianne froze.
Anger flickered across her face as she finished preparing the medicines in four tiny transparent plastic cups, each filled with a different colored liquid.
"Your food is ready," she said tightly, clearly not going to push back at the threat before heading for the door.
Theo glanced at Elana again.
Not as soft as she appeared.
Then he pushed the trolley and followed Vivianne out.