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arius made his way through the subterranean passageways of the Citadel.

Narrow corridors extended like several ungainly legs throughout the castle’s cellars, catacombs and spas. These were ancient, crumbling structures of uneven brickwork that were crooked like teeth, ever-moistened by drippings of dew and furred with black moss. Throughout his youth Darius had made a habit of familiarising himself with its maze-like composition, leaving small and subtle marks along his journey to differentiate between them.

Darius turned into the spa and became immersed within the diaphanous veil of steam coming from the sauna and the springs. The water was plundered from the impassable wall of glaciers that border the north. Darius thought it might be the cleanest item they ever produced here; sterile and entirely without defect, and yet even that was as devoid of life as all else.

He stripped himself bare and hung his clothes up on a hook. Then he perched himself on the wooden bench of the sauna, allowing the congestion of resinous herbs and florals to hotly assault his lungs.

Though he was a creature of all that was wild and bestial, he had grown used to certain civilised comforts: a dense steam with aromatic fragrance and a birch bath besom were just one of his many domesticated habits.

Darius exhaled loudly as he slapped the dried birch leaves against his hewn shoulders and felt the clenched grip in his back muscles finally loosen.

He wasn’t sure what to make of his father’s sudden change of heart. Though he was delighted at the prospect of pursuing greenery and glory in newer pastures, he was still uncertain of the nature of these solarites. And Darius was like to loathe anything he was not certain of.

Still, the thought of conquest was tantalising as any fruit from a high-hanging branch, if only one had the initiative to rise up and pluck it. His father had granted that initiative and Darius supposed it was only right that he should aid his climb.

After his steam he moved from the sauna to stand beneath the spray of ice water spouting from the gargoyle stone tap. Then he wrapped his lower half in a towel and passed through the cracked marble pillars towards the springs.

He could sense her from several feet away.

Her scent was an insidious intrusion—a golden summer fragrance of pure nectar and limpid liquid light.

He heard the gentle patter of her heart pressed up against the stone; the rippling susurration of water that clenched around her body.

He parted through the curtain of steam to see her nestled in the distance. She had her back turned to him, her spun-gold hair spiralled into a bun that displayed the iridescent wet sheen of her back muscles, clinquant with her starry glisten. More prominently displayed was the constellation of a rose that glittered across the exposed wings of her shoulder blades: her dynasty marque. It was an honour bestowed upon her as a descendant from one of The First Who Fell.

Darius traced the smattering of stars with his gaze, curious of its significance.

He moved towards her on silent footsteps, careful not to startle her away. She had her head resting on a makeshift pillow of her arms and part of him wondered if she had gone to rest in them—that was until she stirred and opened her eyes with a sudden quickness.

Said eyes widened in astonishment as she absorbed the sight of his svelte torso, finely sculpted with muscle, the faint impression of his ribcage peeking coyly beneath the skin. Within moments her voice had failed her, moisture receding from her lips before she sought to wet them again.

“Oh, Monsieur Courtier,” she greeted in Soltongue, teasing her chosen moniker on her lips followed by melodious laughter. She found herself grateful for the heat to disguise the source of her blush. “What a surprise it is to see you here.”

“Princess.” Darius tilted to one side. “I see you’ve been settling in very comfortably.”

She hummed pleasantly with a nod. Then she drifted towards him to cross her arms on the stones, resting her cheek on them. “Plenty of room for one more if you’re interested.”

He was interested, and that was precisely his predicament. Dominus would skin him alive if he saw them in this state. Though she meant nothing but neutral intent with her words, just the mere thought of being within touching distance of her nude body made him throb in the worst places.

He had to cease with this indecorousness. He’d seen pretty faces before, had more than his fill, thought himself above being dictated by the bestial yawp of his primal urges. But it wasn’t only simple lust that stirred in his blood when he saw her—there was also cerebral interest, the obsessive compulsion of a scholar’s need to study.

To oblivion with it, he thought. He turned around and slowly unravelled his towel to slip into the water with her.

Laila bit her lip as she watched him, realising too late it had been a mistake to invite him for company. Seeing his bare torso glistening with moisture alone was far more distraction than she cared to receive. Let alone seeing more of him. She averted her gaze.

“Do you happen to be enjoying your stare?” Darius asked, once he’d settled in the spring alongside her.

“Excuse me?” Laila asked. Her blush deepened.

“Your stay,” he repeated, “I asked if you happened to be enjoying your stay.”

“Oh, of course.” Laila forced a laugh. “Yes, Dominus Regulus has been quite the attentive host.”

“I can imagine so.” Darius smirked, propping his elbows up onto the stones. “Which reminds me, I happened to look into your missing vessel.”

“Oh?” Laila asked, sitting upright.

“Yes, it’s just—well, I only wish I had better news.” Darius grazed a hand through his hair with a feigned sigh. The best lies, he knew, were wrapped in a kernel of truth. He only hoped this one would be enough to dispel her prying. It would not. “A report received from one of the sea wardens confirms your vessel did have an unfortunate encounter with one of our coastal monsters. The ship was sunk. I’m afraid no survivors were recorded.”

“I see,” Laila said, swallowing, careful to mitigate her reaction to his words. She knew there was truth in it even if other knowledge denied her ability to accept it as being the full story. And though she had long come to terms with the loss, there was a sad sinking feeling in her stomach with it having been confirmed.

“Would you like me to give you a moment alone?” Darius asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “I suppose I’m just wondering what I ought to tell the families of the passengers.”

“Well if you require my assistance for anything,” Darius offered all the same. “Anything at all.”

“Anything?” Laila cocked her head to one side, a vixen expression encroaching on her features.

“Within reason,” Darius chuckled. “But yes, whatever you desire.”

“Well, I’d have to think about that,” Laila teased, her lips bending upwards into a wing-tipped curve, “may even have to draw you up a list.”

“Should I be frightened?” Darius asked in mock incredulity.

She couldn’t help smiling at that one, try as she may to dampen it. And what a smile it was, like striking a match in a dim room.

Darius had to brace himself a little to meet it. But he soon smiled back, basking in her radiance. It lasted mere moments before it was shattered.

“Hello, brother.” The sound of Dominus’ Mortesian and heavy, lumbering footsteps thudding in the distance had Darius immediately straightening to acknowledge him. “Shouldn’t you be off doing some spy-related scavenging on Papa’s behalf? I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

It was the most subtle form of dismissal he would ever receive.

“But of course,” Darius replied, slippery smooth. He rose up from the water. “I was just about to make my way.”

“You’re leaving?” Laila asked, looking slightly bewildered. This had been the second time Dominus had unceremoniously dismissed his brother out of turn.

“Afraid so,” Darius replied in Soltongue. “We’ll continue this another time, princess. I’ll be expecting that list.”

He climbed out of the spring, making his way towards the exit.

Laila waited until the sound of his footsteps faded before turning to Dominus in accusation. “You scared him away, you beast.”

“Trust me, I paid you a favour,” Dominus said, landing with a loud splash into the spring. The water thrashed in a wave against the marble floor. “My brother is not someone whose company you wish to keep.”

“Why?”

“Because he is a snake of a creature whose very nature is to lie and charm and scheme.” He nearly spat the words. “And he also happens to be my father’s favourite weapon to wield. He was likely behind the demise of your ship and all the other vessels that came before it.”

“You tell me this now?” Laila scoffed in disbelief.

“The moment never arose.” Dominus threw his hands up in defence. “But I am telling you this: Stay away from him. He is not to be seen as an ally or a friend.”

Laila exhaled deeply in frustration. She could tell there was far more to the antagonism Dominus shared with his brother than he was willing to divulge. But at the very least, she could heed his warning. Even if she had no intention of keeping to it.

“I understand, Dominus.” She smiled, stroking back his damp hair behind his ears. She leaned in to kiss him softly before she drew back.

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Darius spent the rest of the evening enclosed in his quarters, writing coded letters and sending them off via shadowbirds. The ink he used was enchanted to only appear upon the confirmation of the recipient. Darius scraped his quill against the neck of the bottle before setting it down with a sigh and a tired eye-rub.

He was just about to blow out his lantern and retire when he heard movement in the nearby vicinity.

It wasn’t often that Dominus would dare to darken his doorway unless it was for the most pertinent of issues. That’s why when Darius sensed his brother’s heavy-footed prowl in the vicinity, he was quick to face him in preparation for what would undoubtedly be another migraine-inducing squabble.

“Stay away from Laila,” Dominus snarled.

“Well, good evening to you too.” Darius tented his fingers. “How nice of you to visit. Though I admit, a little knock before you entered wouldn’t have gone amiss.”

“I mean it, Darius.” His brother seethed. “Stay away from her.”

Always so few of words was Dominus, but it at least made these altercations slightly less tiresome.

“It might have escaped your notice but I wasn’t the initiator in that situation. And I have been.”

“Good,” Dominus said frankly, “keep it that way.”

“What exactly are you so concerned about, Dominus? Are you worried a mere sustained eye contact between myself and your lovely new companion will spontaneously cause her to shed all her clothes?”

Tension mounted in Dominus’ shoulders and Darius knew he’d struck the nerve he’d desired. But Darius was in no real mood to tussle with him, only tease him a little. Though he recognised from past experience with his father that once tempers were risen in a Calantis a violent detonation was near certain to follow it. So he stood and stepped closer to Dominus, eager to trigger the explosion and get it over with.

“You need to work on your insecurity, little brother, ladies don’t tend to find that very attractive.” Darius’ lips curved slightly upwards into something vulpine. “Perhaps that’s why they tend to like me better.”

That was enough to cause Dominus to reveal his true monstrous visage lurking beneath the otherwise humane exterior. His lips peeled back, fangs bared, all the white in his eyes sullied black.

Darius chuckled, his mask maintained as he tilted his head in expectancy. “Go ahead.” He stood back and raised his arms out. “Take your best shot. I dare you.”

Dominus leered close, his fists bunched and twitching to strike but he didn’t take the punch like Darius expected. He recognised this flippantly provocative demeanour in Darius and he refused to give in to what he wanted.

Thus he sheathed his fangs, exhaling the tendrils of his temper. “You have been warned, Darius. Do not make me come back to you again.”

Then, to Darius’ surprise, Dominus turned on his heel and walked away.

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At midnight, the Citadel had been transformed; stained with the tenebrous black of cephalopod ink. The hour beckoned the arrival of the Citadel’s spectres with Dr Hariken at the forefront, as she returned to the quarters of the princess.

Laila slept with her hair fanned out like sunset against her pillow. Though in a deep sleep she had become attuned to the visits of spectres and thus, when Dr Hariken came to her, she took little effort to rouse.

“Is that you, Doctor?” Laila asked as she retracted her legs from the sheets, warm as though pulled fresh from the oven.

Dr Hariken remained fixed at her bedside, unresponsive. Then she turned on her heel and walked towards Laila’s bedroom door before glancing back, once, and phasing through the wood.

Laila moved like a slip of linen in the breeze beneath the desaturated glow of moonlight. She picked up her nearest leisure clothes and dressed herself, eager to let the scholar take her wherever she willed. She waited until Lyra’s breathing had calmed into slow, steady cycles before tiptoeing her way towards the bedroom door.

She barely made it past the fireplace before she heard Lyra speak, “Don’t tell me you’re off to a moonlight rendezvous without me?”

Laila paused in alarm before she turned back. Her mind rifled through many excuses and names she could cite to cover up her true intentions. “I’ve decided to sneak into Darius Calantis’ bedroom, see what he’s up to.”

“Are you mad?” Lyra was upright in the bed at once. “The very least you could’ve given me is some forewarning first.” Then she sighed, pushing back the covers. “Give me a moment to get ready.”

“No, no, no, you get back into bed this instant. I will handle this one on my own.”

“If you think I’m going to let you tiptoe into a monster’s den without a guard then you have another thing coming—”

“It’ll be easier for me to go in and out without you traipsing behind me looking for a fight. This isn’t a slaying mission, Lyra, nor is it like the time you and I tried to go hunting for unicorns. I can do this on my own.” She folded her arms together decisively, brow raised in challenge.

Lyra met her gaze unflinchingly before she pulled back the covers. “Fine. But if you do not return after a couple of hours then I will come after you.”

“Very well,” Laila said, then she turned back on her mission.

Before she left she administered an enchantment to bend the light around her, making her both invisible and intangible. From there she phased through the bedroom door to follow Dr Hariken’s lead.

The spectre had been anticipating her arrival outside and she walked onwards as Laila trailed behind her, leading her to the stairs. Laila kept her footsteps light and soft as they descended, even though they were unlikely to be heard, trying to guess where Hariken might be guiding her.

She knew Darius’ chambers were to be found on the lower levels of the royal apartments, just above the servants’ quarters. So it didn’t surprise her when Hariken stopped at the designated floor as she expected and phased through the wall to the rooms that best matched his.

Though the rooms were dark, Laila’s eyes had come to adjust to its gloom, and a sheer veil of moonlight had seeped through one of the windows to magnify its subdued elegance. The furnishings spoke to a character who’d cultivated fine taste in spite of, or perhaps even because of, his standing. Everything was pulled to impeccable order, not even the dust motes dared trespass from their allocated position.

Laila passed a pointed arch bookcase chiselled with vine-like motifs, tracing it with a finger to begin her snooping. Dr Hariken seemed adamant to remain at the bookcases, though they bore little fruit Laila could see other than calfskin grimoires and other similar volumes chronicling chaotic magic. She lifted the heftiest book on the subject of chimeras and then put it down, finding it to be of little interest. If only she’d shifted it a little more, she might have found what she was looking for.

She turned towards the cabinets next.

Laila released a soft grunt of annoyance when she discovered the cabinet locked and again when she attempted to rifle through his desk drawers. “Where are you hiding the key?”

Her shoulders sagged at the realisation she may need to enter his bedroom.

She stalked silently into the darkened chamber, finding him thankfully asleep. His bed was built into an alcove of engraved black wood inlaid with ivory, its plum velvet drapes left withdrawn to reveal him.

Under the influence of slumber all the sharpness in his features seemed to have been smoothed away, leaving only the exquisite carvings of his fine visage.

She tried not to look too hard at him as she sucked in the breath that had been momentarily stolen by the sight of his beauty. She did not think it fair that a creature so despicable should come in so lovely a shape.

She dispensed with the thought, reminding herself this was Dominus’ brother she was having such ponderings about, and continued with her task.

Prying open the ornate brass knobs of his wardrobe she nudged along the satin-cushioned hangers holding garments of fine silk, wool and floral-patterned velvet with curled toe leather boots stringently aligned along the bottom.

She scrunched her mouth to one side, seeing little of note but how tasteful his sense of style was and felt a tugging impulse to admit defeat.

One last area remained in the form of his chest which Laila approached with caution pricking at her spine, something primal in her knowing there awaited her an object of eldritch origin.

She reached out a hand, snatching it back with the quickness of elastic. She chastised herself derisively for her nerves as she opened the chest to uncover the contents inside. The box was filled to the brim with more calfskin tomes and parchments yellowed from age, tied with velvet bows. She reached inside to unravel one and found handwritten correspondence in Mortesian penned by Darius’ elegant script.

The letters spoke of his research into chimera creation and the nature of mutations aided by magical means. Again, of little interest to her. She put it away and reached for a book next, finding it was locked by a strange, vine-like contraption that slithered and writhed when she touched it. The facade of the book was patterned with archaic symbols that she realised were manoeuvrable when she touched one. Slowly, she twisted the carving of an eye, causing the vines that surrounded it to squirm in protest—

“Didn’t your mother ever warn you against snooping?”

Her heart plummeted, but before she could think to move he’d already shattered through her enchantment and took her in hand—pulling her body flush against his.

She dropped the book with a loud clatter onto the floor and braced her hands against his chest. “I wasn’t snooping, I was just—”

“Trying to steal my life’s work? I’m hurt. And here I thought we were starting to become friends.”

Now she was touching him she realised he was naked but for his drawers. She could feel the flex of his muscles against her, hard as concrete, and it went through her like a shockwave. Not out of fear. Not for him. She knew if she needed to, she could easily demobilise him with a shock.

“Now… what do you have to say for yourself?”

She sent a pulse of electricity through him, feeling him flinch before her power. She would never tire of feeling a body do that. “Unhand me, first.”

His fingers sprung free of her arms as he took a step back, his hands lifted in acquiescence.

“My intent was not to steal from you. I was only trying to discover more about what happened to my ship.”

His expression shifted through an amalgam of emotions before settling on neutrality. “I already told you what happened.”

“As if I’d take your word for it,” Laila sneered, “Dominus told me what your father has you do. I figure if you can lie about that you can lie about anything. I’m not about to look to a monster for honesty.”

Darius chuckled dryly. “A monster, am I? How ironic it is for a thief to speak of me with such derision.” He was genuinely delighted by this as he took a step closer. “And if I’m such a monster then it is awful brave of you to venture your way into my den, alone and unguarded… where no one would have the chance to hear you scream.”

He took another step, looming over her, and while there was no trace of belligerence in his features Laila found that almost made it worse. Anger she could prepare herself for but Darius’ subtle amusement only left her unmoored.

She swallowed, her chest feeling clenched and tight. “I’m not frightened of you.”

“No, I believe you aren’t,” Darius said, before reaching out towards her. She flinched in spite of herself and he smiled as he tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Alright then, you’ve caught me. The ship was wrecked but it wasn’t an accident. I destroyed it on purpose upon the demands of my father. I did the same with yours. It is simply our way here, you understand. To maintain our secrecy.”

Though she’d already suspected, hearing how blithely he admitted it caused rage to coil within her. “You’re despicable,” she spat. Her body sparked with a current of electricity, emitting itself as an incandescent glower.

Darius acknowledged her ire with slight caution. “Now I’d think very carefully about the action you want to take next. I understand quite well you may be thinking of hurting me—and I wouldn’t blame you one bit—but I think you’ll find my uses are far more versatile than as mere fodder for your rage.”

No matter how she longed to deny it she knew he was right. She needed to view the bigger picture, even if that meant relinquishing vengeance. Laila sucked in a breath as she reeled in her temper, causing her wrathful glow to dim.

“There we are,” Darius said with a smile, “I knew you were a creature of reason.”

“Speak.”

“As the sole interpreter of both Soltongue and Mortesian I’d wager you’ve come to benefit from my presence. I’d be happy to continue this arrangement, maybe even more, should you be willing to… overlook this little incident.”

“Little incident?” Laila scoffed. “You’ve murdered people.”

“I suppose you’re right to condemn me but for what it’s worth, I’m glad you survived the crash. I cannot pretend to atone for my acts against you but I am hoping that pledging myself to your goal of negotiating peace with my father will go some way towards it.”

“And what do you desire in return?”

“Other than the mere pleasure of your company?” His smile deepened enough to reveal his dimples. “I am privy to a great amount of knowledge, resources and connections in the country. All things I would be willing to extend towards you as and when you need them. In exchange, I would like for you and I to start fresh. Put the matter of the Great Northern out of your mind from this point forth. Their deaths, unfortunately, cannot be rescinded. But the living must go on must we not?” He reached out a hand towards her. “So, do we have a deal?”

She didn’t like it. Not one bit. But he had her at a disadvantage and he knew it. She was vulnerable in this country, the capricious affections of Dominus her only shield, and should she pursue this further she wasn’t sure she could count on that shield to endure.

Laila glanced down at his extended hand, uncertain. “I suppose this little arrangement also encompasses not telling your father I was here?”

“It’ll be like it never happened.”

She glanced into his viper eyes, finding them unnervingly lucent even in the darkness. Making a deal with a demon was not how she anticipated the night would turn but if it got them both what they wanted…

“Fine.” She took his hand.

He surprised her by lifting it to his lips to graze her skin. “Pleasure treating with you, princess.”

He stepped aside to let her leave and she brushed past him, still feeling the fevered burn on her cheeks from when she’d been blushing. She stopped once inside the sitting room and allowed herself a breath of relief.

Her ease faded when she saw Dr Hariken standing across from her, face weary and resigned in the understanding she’d never see true justice. She dissipated into the air before Laila could call to her.

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The sauna was seeping a dense winter fog.

Darius closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall, inhaling spearmint and pine. This simple olfactory harmony was soon eroded by the introduction of another scent among them, warm and smooth and floral as fresh rose blossoms sinking into honey.

Darius opened his eyes to see Laila swathed in mist. She sat beside him on the bench, her hair loose in spiral coils down her shoulders. She was entirely bare skin beyond that.

Panic ascended in his chest as he tried, desperately in vain, to direct his attention to any point of focus but her body. But every time he tried to turn his head away it kept on drifting back. It was as though he had an antenna embedded in his brain that was attuned only to the frequency of her blood heat.

Soon he was looking one time too many and her eyes opened to catch him in his stare.

“It’s okay,” she said, catching him by the chin to steady him with her grip. “You can look at me if you want to.”

Their eyes met in a standstill.

He could see that patterned along her irises was a cluster of stars and space, entire galaxies rimmed around the black hole of her pupil. He wasn’t sure who moved forward first but soon he found they were leaning towards each other until their lips pressed.

The one touch was all it took to fracture his resolve.

Their mouths opened to release a moan as Darius pulled her close, lifting her into his lap as her legs worked their way around his waist, surrendering himself to the passion that invaded him.

He awoke gasping, his body soaked in sweat.

He let his breaths settle through deep inhalations before he rubbed his temples.

Get it together, Darius, he scolded himself. Then he withdrew his covers and made his way to the washroom to take a long, cold bath.

He scarcely made it out the door to his main quarters when he was greeted to the scent of flowers. The scent was like a pelt to the nostrils, subtly overpowering. His distinguished nose traced the source of the fragrance to his end table, now newly replaced, where a bouquet of pearlescent blooms were arranged. He knew of this particular type to be night-blooming and by morning they would all have entirely died.

He stroked one of the velvet petals, plucking one of them loose to bring it close to his nostrils before it browned immediately in his hand.

A card had been left within the flowers though Darius needn’t have looked at the signature to recognise the author’s symbolic flower nor her fine hand: Come to my quarters tomorrow morning.—Vasilisa

He crunched the petal in his hand and took the card from the bouquet, whistling jauntily back to his bedroom as he pondered what the morning would bring.