A part of him didn't want anything to do with the Purple Thief. But the mystery behind those beautiful eyes and her snappy tongue only aroused his curiosity. If the incompetent king hadn't stopped him, he would've enjoyed burning her flesh in front of everyone to reveal it. Even the king had come to forget how powerful he truly was. Yet he wondered if his own underlining resistance shimmered from his face and his actions for them to remember.

I can't have them remember too quickly.

He scolded, fueled to the bones with anger hearing the ridiculous sentence.

"Do the judges agree with the decision?" Dimitri said.

Eron clenched his hands wishing to turn every judge raising their hands into ashes. They were nothing and meant nothing to the gods. Only he was born with a gift from the gods and should have the last say.

"The Crown has spoken. Lifetime in the Dungeons with possibility for appeal under two deals. Mageia Unknown, you are dismissed."

Mercy? Mercy. Curse mercy.

A guard grabbed the vagabond's arm, but he couldn't let her go with any type of relief of this outcome. Death is for those who defy the Crown, not mercy.

He grabbed her arm and yanked her close.

"I don't know what you did, sorceress, but I will find out what you are," he growled.

She yanked her arm out his grip and gave him a clever grin as the guard walked her from the throne hall.

"Bring in the next prisoner," Dimitri bellowed.

For too long he had received an overwhelming number of complaints from nobles and the middle class who sponsor him concerning the little thieves and how much valuables they've lost over the years. He gripped his sword, proudly called Yadonesar, meaning Last Scream in the realm's ancient tongue of Valeera. Yadonesar has took many lives in its time, and many more to come. Perhaps this Purple Thief's.

The next and last prisoner was escorted into the Court. Eron took that time to approach the throne where the King was reading a message from his knight escort Ser Garret. Whatever was in the message, it didn't sit well with Dimitri. He shook his head and gave it back to the knight who went to one of Prince Grisonce's servants. That's when he saw the quick exit of the Strange prince himself and felt the hairs along the back of his neck rise.

"Eron, do you want something?" Dimitri said, his bear of a voice partially masked by the rising chatter of failures who wanted to gossip about what had just occurred.

The Commander returned to his first intentions to approach the throne.

"Your Highness, I do not agree with the sentence you gave to that Strange."

"Of course, you wouldn't Eron," he said giving a disgusted tone to his name. "You'd kill every single person who had the audacity to enter this hall if I left you in charge."

Then why appoint me as head of your army, Eron wanted to say but bit his tongue.

"I am only saying. That girl could've been the greatest example to keep resisters at bay," Eron said.

"The last I heard, resisters only resist due to the fact of sentencing executions," Dimitri said. "It wouldn't make them stop, but only add fuel to their anger if I sent her to die. No. I give you permission to see what she is. Do not kill her, do you understand?"

Eron gave a nasty snort from within. Oh, how much he despised this man. So much that it was hard to describe and by far too idiotic to express.

"Yes, Your Highness," he said through clenched teeth.

For years, Eron faintly recalled short friendly encounters with the King of Ardania. Most of the time, the man either tolerated his presence or avoided him. But one thing was sure to Eron's realization, an unknown tension was forming between them and it was a matter of time before one of them cracked.

"Also, never touch anyone in a court appearance and never – never speak of witchcraft unless in a private audience with me," Dimitri growled.

"I apologize for my recklessness," he said forcing a bow, but really, he wanted to turn him and his family of blondies to ashes.

"Good. Now return to your seat or leave for all I care," he said leaning back into his chair and waving a dismissive hand.

You will regret how you speak to me one day, he wanted to say but knew better.

He gave a decent bow and eased his way to the doors into the Doomed. The last thing he wanted was to linger his stay in a place he wasn't needed. In case he gets the last laugh and the last words every so often with a forbidden affair.

He descended into the Doomed and its dimmed and gloomy aura. He wanted to begin his sessions with the Purple Thief in one of the private chambers then have her paraded back to the Taefo with blood and bruises. He knew many ways to get her to talk without claiming her life so early. It would be enough to reveal the location of her hideout, figure out what she was, and prove why she shouldn't joke with him. His interrogation couldn't be long because it was custom to make an appearance at the Royal Luncheon and to prepare for the holy night.

Within the packed cell, the Purple Thief stood out like a shining jewel. Everyone's eyes widened in horror, probably never seeing the Fiisen Commander before. They stood or sat frozen in place, and when he caught eyes with the thief, the realization that crossed her face told him she knew who he was coming for.

"Release her," he said to the guards.

"What for?" the Purple Thief said eyes narrowing with fury.

"We need to finish last night's conversation," he said and the twinkle of fear in her eyes made the fire in his blood leap.

"You don't scare me, jester," she said through clenched teeth as the guards shackled her.

Eron stepped closer to her with a sharp grin and punched her in the gut. She croaked over and coughed in pain.

"I have her from here," he ordered and gripped her arm.

He led the girl through the Doomed, to a lone cell by an exit where two guards stood laughing at some unknown joke. When they spotted him, they quickly hushed and stood straight and tall to the side.

"Commander," they muttered.

"Open this one," he said and one fumbled with a ring of keys, and the lock, and opened the cell.

He shoved the girl inside and snatched the ring of keys. "You two, go beyond the door," he said to the guards, and they fearfully obeyed.

Once they were gone, he closed the door to the cell and turned to face the girl.

"What're you doing?"

He tilted his head and scanned her from head to toe, already growing aroused by the countless things he could do to her to make her talk. After a minute of this, the Strange shifted with unease and withering fear, but she kept those eyes glaring.

"Mageia," he tasted her name. For some reason it made him hungry.

"May I admit something," he said almost in a whisper.

"Like what?" she said, standing tense and on guard.

"You are strangely beautiful," he said. "Your eyes are mesmerizing."

This caught her a bit off guard; he could tell right away. The glare in her eyes turned confused and her shoulders tensed embarrassedly. Then her nose scrunched for a second before she responded.

"Don't expect a compliment in return," she scolded.

Eron gave a deep-throated laugh and edged closer. Her guard went up again, bounded hands raised, prepared to defend herself.

"How can you not know what you are?"

"I don't know, but I will figure it out while I'm locked up," she said.

"How about I help you figure it out," he said.

"No. I don't need your help," she shouted. "Don't come near me."

"Or what?" he said.

Her eyes scanned the bars and what lied beyond the bars behind him, and he smirked.

"Touch me and I'll kill you," she said.

"Oh, I want to see you try," he said then swiftly closed the distance between them.

She gasped in panic. She swung her bound arms and tried to slip pass him. He grabbed her around the waist, turning her around. Gripping her hair, he flung her against the side wall. Her elbows struck him in his shoulder and upper chest, but he grunted off the ache. He pressed his elbow into her spine.

She yelped in pain and her body's instincts kicked in. It froze her still, long enough for him to slam her face into the wall and lock her still. She screamed, bounded arms pinned and unable to make any blows, but she still squirmed. He pressed his entire body to hers and felt his groin harden at the sudden heat of her struggle.

"Get off of me," she squealed. He grinned feeling her body tremble on its own.

He put his lips close to her ear, almost touching it. "I guess we will have to spend more time together until your sooth reveal itself."

"Get off," she now cried.

He sucked in the spicy aroma from her curly hair and grunted.

"You smell so good," he said a warm feeling igniting in his chest.

The disgusted sound she made urged him to add more weight on her. Despite the chill in the cell, the heat of their bodies was intoxicating.

"Please stop," she muttered. A single tear escaped an eye and disappeared into the brown of her chin.

"Give me the location of your hideout and I will release you."

"Ice over in hell," she said.

"Oh, I've never heard that one before," Eron said. "How about a little heat, seeing you can miraculously heal."

He gathered their forming heat and let it rip through the pores in his left hand. He slapped his hand against the wall just inches from her nose. Her eyes widened in horror, and she squirmed again, yet stronger. He kneed her in the back of her left knee. The girl buckled unable to move an inch now. With his other hand, he gently removed the strands of hair from her face and touched her smooth skin. The residue of that runaway tear kissed his fingers, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Why are you doing this?" she said squeezing her eyes closed.

"To get what I want," he said.

"I'm not telling you anything until you get off of me," she said, screaming the last few words. "Why can't you just leave them be?"

"They must face the consequences for their crimes," he said.

"What about you and what you're doing to me?"

"I received permission from the Crown to see what you are," he said. "I do not recall any specific limitations other than to not kill you."

A slight chuckle escaped her throat, and it caught his interest. "What's so funny?"

"You're a fool."

He moved his flaming hand inches to her shoulder and she shivered.

"Why so, my little gemstone?"

Her upper lip twitched until she finally said, "I recall in history when soothers once held crowns."

"Are you trying to mock me again," he said staring at the bright reflection of his flames on the stone wall.

"No. I'm just amazed by how someone said to be a gift from the gods is torturing the very one who could be a blessing in disguise."

Eron cocked his head so she couldn't see him from her peripheral.

"A blessing? I thought you said you didn't know what you were?"

"I don't but my eyes are purple for a reason, right? It just has to be a reason. I've always wondered. Yet. Here you are, a Fiisen in such an important position, given the job lower of his status to torture what could be a great ally."

His sooth sucked back into his skin; an uncomfortable feeling compared to when he would release it. This Strange's words had captured him.

"Where are you going with this," he said.

"I don't know. I just feel as if all of this is for naught."

Eron licked his lips and felt an unusual flutter in his gut and realized he wanted to kiss this girl. Her words did in line with parts of his own belief and knowledge, but something told him she couldn't be trusted. At least not yet.

"Honestly, Commander, people claim they're the Fairest of the realm but at the end of the day, they still bruise, they still wither. But I've become aware that I can heal quicker than anyone else. That means I must be something. Right? But a soother – I heard – is supposed to be like the Elves with power and immortality in their blood. Under this roof, Commander, who's the true Fairest?"

He rubbed his nose against her ear, and she trembled but a smirk grew across her face. A mischievous smirk?

"Mmhm, should I interrupt?" the familiar voice slipped into the silence like a shadow.

Eron cut his gaze at the soldier, leaning against the bars with his own mischievous playful grin. His deep blue eyes haunting under the lantern lights. Eron released her of his body weight and heard her suck in a lungful of air as if she had been holding her breath the entire time. Her words... The girl was toying with him to change the subject, but her words didn't wash away entirely.

"Don't do anything stupid. I will burn you alive," Eron said to the girl and approached the bars.

"They were right, she is beautiful," the soldier said with a great sense of casual. "Pardon my interruption, Ser."

Sii patted his heart two times and offered it away to him in the Ardanian's proper salute. "What do you want Sii," Eron said.

"Yes Ser," he mocked but Eron muffled his simmering sooth. The young man was a menace and utterly annoying but considering the secret they shared, he had useful skills. Skills that could easily give him whatever he wanted on a silver platter with a simple, "Go," with no questions or hesitations.

He smiled bright but it didn't match his frozen eyes. "A good letter flew in for you."

Eron's chest expanded with a gasp, happy to hear those two words. It has been months since he received a 'good letter.' The phrase was just a euphemism to trick people from what the letter truly was, a letter from someone he should not be conversating with.

Sii's smile grew wider. At least a few years older than his nineteen, Sii and his fellow companions were appointed to work for him, to be loyal to him, to be able to tolerate bloodshed and work in the darkest corners of the palace. They had no hearts and one day his black heart will join them.

"Give it to me," he said.

He dug into the metal of his uniform and slipped him a scroll no larger than his pinky finger. Around it was a black ribbon clipped with a red painted pin. This tiny useless item and the contents stored within it meant more to him than the damn Purple Thief staring across the cell as if uninterested in their conversation.

"You can leave now," Eron said removing the pin and sticking it into his pants pocket.

"Enjoy," Sii said referring to either the letter or the girl he now had no interest in.

As the soldier exited the side door into the foyer of the palace, a knight and a soldier approached from the opposite direction. Quickly, he slipped the scroll away and scrunched his nose. They both were dressed in the colors and sigil of the royal family. Instantly, he knew who they were. Prince Gideon's escorts. Their eyes bounced from him to the girl with questions they dared to relate.

"What does Gideon want?"

"Her," said Ser Merlin.

"Her?" Eron repeated and for a second forgot he was locked in the cell with the cursed girl. He glanced at the thief who looked just as surprised. "Why?"

"For company on his trip."

"Hell no," she scolded edging further into the cell.

"Give me a good reason why I should just hand this witch over to a royal?"

"Because," the escort said pointing at his royal signet with arrogance. An arrogance that reminded the Commander that he couldn't order or push around certain knights and soldiers.

He gave an inward growl and handed the soldier the keys to unlock the cell while he went to fetch the girl. She struggled against him but obeyed. Once they were released, he shoved the girl into him. Ser Merlin cringed with disgust by the Strange filth but took her, nonetheless. Dargany took her by the other arm and didn't look at all happy.

"The Prince promises to send her to the Taefo once he's returned," Ser Merlin said.

She struggled against their strong grips pulling her away. "No. No. Commander don't let them do this," she squealed despite his own attempt to please himself.

A shiver of humor slithered up his throat and stretched his lips into a grin. Fear screamed from her face. He knew once the prince was finished pleasing himself, she would still cry for death.

As they exited the Doomed, he took out the scroll and unraveled it. He slid his eyes across the fancy cursive writing, and he sighed with inner joy.

"I love you too," he muttered into the shadows.