Lilith and the royal guard ride on through the city of Aglia. Banners with her country’s emblem are held high, behind her horse. As a spokesperson for the King announces their journey, the citizens line up across all sides of the road with baskets a plenty, filled with offerings and treats, for the departing soldiers. Some are excited and cheer, others seem doubtful about the true nature of this expedition; though this does little to discourage Lilith’s own morale, for she could not care less about the opinion of plebian scum.

Convincing Wolf hadn’t been difficult. Athough she had never heard the Halloran’s name, Wolf seemed to think otherwise when she repeated it many a time throughout their conversation. And the three conditions he laid down for her were quite easy ones to fulfil, too.

Don’t treat me like a woman, I’m a man.

I get to see Lir before any of you do.

Once I step out of this prison, I’m never going back in.

The idiot could have asked for money or favors from the Crown, yet, he chose the illusion of freedom instead. Clearly, he isn’t from around here, or else he would have known from the start about Lilith’s many affiliations.

There is noise up ahead. Her train of thought and the guard’s parade is interrupted by a young woman who trips onto the road. Lilith tugs on her horse’s reins. She glares at the woman. The poor, frail thing is nothing but skin, bones, and tattered robes that surely haven’t been washed in months. Perhaps she could have been beautiful. Blonde hair and opal eyes are features that are often sought after by lovers who walk the streets of Aglia. Perhaps—Lilith thinks to herself again, as she scoffs, and walks around the girl with her horse—if I were not me, I would have made her mine.

The helpless woman is behind her now, as the city’s gates open like the curtain of a theatre. Even if they don’t find the one they seek on this trip, Lilith is glad it is happening. It will, at least, momentarily cure the curse of eternal boredom that has welled up within her once more. And how Lilith loathes being far from her playthings known as friends! Sometimes, she wishes she could shrink them down to tiny statues of their former selves, keep them in her pockets, and kiss them back to life whenever her need to love or speak would arise.

She sighs. She isn’t friends with magic. Her wishes are unlikely to ever become a possibility.

But!

Lilith orders the guard forward, into the mountains.

One can dream.