The next day, Mari wandered the halls. She took her time, still convincing herself her plan would work. How hard could it be? She could do it. She was completely capable. Mari just wished she believed it.

This time, she decided not to ask one of the guards for assistance. She could have asked the guard at Dainan's cell, but the look he gave her every time she went unsettled her. Normally, it wouldn't be a problem, but before she went to see Dainan, there was something else she needed to do first. She was certain of that. She felt she needed to do it on her own.

As she made her way down a flight of stairs, she found a pair of guards stationed outside a door. When they noticed her, they whispered to each other. Mari straightened her posture and focused on twisting her face to match Rekema's. The crown weighed on her head. The guards bowed their heads, and one of them opened the door for her.

"Your highness," one of them said.

Mari held her head high. She stuck out her hand. "Give me the keys."

He did so without hesitation. Mari gripped them so tightly she thought their pattern would remain indented on her skin for the rest of her days. She strode through the doorway, and she didn't express any surprise at the sight before her. The dungeon seemed to just be a hall made of cells that had metal bars separating prisoners. She fought to keep from shivering as the cold seeped through her feet and into her core. Her eyes strained to make out the shapes in the darkness. There were a few torches scattered every so often on the walls that lit the hall in a dim, sickly yellow light.

She took a deep breath and headed down the hall. Her footsteps echoed around her, and the sound of chains skittering across stone hit her ears. It was a bit like the twins' tails snaking across the ground; she held her arms, tightening her grip to keep from shaking. She glanced around, catching sight of a few people in the cells. They all moved away the moment her eyes focused in their direction.

Mari supposed they remembered the last time they had seen her. She wished she did; her memories of that day were blurred and broken.

It wasn't long until Mari caught sight of a vaguely familiar face. He was the first person not to hurry away at her gaze: the scholar. The man she originally had wanted to see. What a strange thing. A simple misunderstanding was all it took. Her bad memory and poor way with words. Strange, the idea that if things had gone the way she meant for them to, she would have been brought here. What would have happened if she had been brought to him and not Dainan?

"Get away, you monster! You're not getting anything from me, not after what you did! Did you really think you would gain anyone's loyalty? Demon!"

Mari grunted when something hit her face. It stung, and something dripped down her cheek. She ignored it and continued walking. She had her answer.

Continuing down the hall, she glanced over the cells for a woman. She saw the female scholar, curled up on the ground, but that wasn't who she wanted. Dripping could be heard. It wasn't water that left a trail behind her and stained her feet. Only when she reached the last few cells, did Mari see her.

"Regan?" Mari walked up to the door, testing out the name.

The woman sat up, keeping something held close to her chest. She was not lost, good. She glanced up at Mari, and the moment she saw Mari, or rather the crown, her gaze hardened. Her grip tightened on what she was holding. "What?"

Mari took the keys and unlocked the door. Pulling it open, she puffed and tried to hide how much effort it took her to move the heavy door. Mari turned to the woman who still sat on the ground, turned away from her. Mari took a deep breath. "Come with me."

Regan stood up, and Mari saw what she held. She frowned. It was a strangely shaped object. Mari had never seen one before, but it seemed harmless enough. At the very least, it didn't seem like Regan would part with it easily, so Mari ignored it.

"Why? What do you want with me?" Regan shifted the object in her arms. Pained noises filtered through the air. Someone nearby seemed to be wailing.

"I don't," Mari said, "but someone else does. Now, come with me."

"And if I don't?" Regan pulled the object even closer and stepped away from Mari. Mari scowled. How did she explain this? The whole matter hardly made any sense to her, not to mention there would be so much to explain if Mari wanted to do it properly.

"Come. It is important to someone who is...he is..." Mari glanced down and saw the small puddle forming at her feet. Drip, drip. She did not want to say his name outright where anyone might overhear. Her hands shook; she fisted them into her skirt. She was afraid that if somehow the Seven found out about her visits to Dainan, and she was absolutely terrified what they would do once they did. She did not want to take any risks especially with Dainan. Mari lowered her voice, saying, "He needs to see you, to know you are not lost to him."

"What?" Regan stepped closer.

Mari rubbed her temple. She had never been more painfully aware of how bad she was at explaining things. She grabbed Regan by the sleeve and pulled her along. Regan stumbled at first before falling in rhythm with Mari. Whispers hounded their steps. Chains rattled. Someone started yelling. Several small objects hit her arms and legs. Her skin stung, and in some places, Mari felt blood well up. Her only indication of what they did was to straighten her posture and let them watch the blood roll off her skin. Mari dropped Regan's sleeve as they left the dungeon.

She ignored the looks the guards gave her on the way out. Once out of sight of anyone except Regan, Mari still resisted the urge to look at or touch her small wounds. Her blood pounded in her veins. Was she doing the right thing? Once Dainan had Regan, would he still have time for her? Should that even matter? Mari paid no attention to anything around her. She was too focused on her path despite the fact she knew the way by heart.

Behind her, Regan was muttering to the thing in her arms the entire time. Mari found it to be an odd thing, to be the one that someone followed. Mari had not decided whether or not that was a good odd or bad odd. Did she want to follow or be followed? Did it have to be one or the other? Regan finally fell silent when they reached Dainan's door. The guard saw Mari coming and went in the other direction, but he always stayed nearby. He gave her an amount of privacy; although, she suspected he did so for his own sake than for hers. Mari imagined he did not want to know what she did in there. She did not blame him; he had no reason to think she treated Dainan any differently than how the Seven treated other prisoners. As much as it made her stomach turn that he thought of her like that, she was relying on it. She needed his fear to keep him silent. As of the moment, she had no other way to keep him quiet. He was a risk; the next time the Seven came, it was possible he might mention something. Mari knew she would have to take care of him sooner rather than later. She could not live with herself if the Seven found out about Dainan and intervened.

She lifted her head and wiped the blood off her cheek, knowing it would still be stained red like the back of her left hand. Her arms and legs still bled as well. She had no idea what had been thrown at her; rocks or shards of something seemed likely. She was sore; her limbs stung and burned. Red stained her skin. What did it matter that this one time it was her own? Her hair fell in front of her face, hiding the cut from view. Dainan wouldn't be able to see any of the wounds, but Mari would know it was there. Was she ready? Mari didn't have the answer, but she knew why she was doing this in the first place. No matter what happened afterward, Mari had to believe it was worth it, or else she would never be able to open the door. She took one last look at the red stain on her hand. Why she did this... It was enough. Mari pulled out her key and unlocked the door.