Marie-Fey eyed the grand iron gates before her that were no longer drowning in greenery. The untamed jungle had been entirely cut back and controlled until it was manicured and neat.

Guards pulled the gates open for her and Zaydan and something made Marie-Fey hold her ground as Zaydan walked through.

She could see the building from where she stood.

Down the end of the grand, white stone path – lined with trees and blooming flowers of every colour, the gardens threaded with little streams and two large fountains – the building was like a smaller version of the main palace behind her.

With cream walls, intricate latticed windows, rounded roofs and arching wooden doors, it looked no different.

But a silence carried from it.

It hadn't been used in many, many years of course, but there was an emptiness about it.

Marie-Fey couldn't say she cared for the women who lived in the palace behind her, but she also couldn't say she cared to be separated from them.

There was life behind her.

There were ghosts ahead.

Zaydan looked back at her, eyes questioning.

Then they flicked to the side.

"So you're moving here, I see?"

Marie-Fey's eyes darkened and she looked to her left to see Zaafira walking towards them, arms folded, holding that ever-present peacock fan, eyeing the building down the path with cold eyes.

"So it would seem," Marie-Fey replied as Zaafira stopped beside her.

"Hmm," Zaafira mused, tapping her fan against her perfect lips. Her sharp eyes drifted to Zaydan and he narrowed his gaze at her. "Let us have a look then."

With that, Zaafira swept through the gates to follow Zaydan, her maids trailing behind.

Marie-Fey's ladies quickly looked at her and Marie-Fey let out a sigh before lifting her skirts and sweeping through, neatly bumping Zaafira out of the spot beside Zaydan with her skirts – earning a glower – and striding towards the doors, guards waiting to open them.

The entrance hall was done in white and gold, impossibly finely detailed carvings scored into the white walls, revealing their stories only as the sunlight moved across the walls, casting tiny shadows in the grooves. The scene at that moment appeared to reveal a woman preparing for something, perhaps her own wedding.

Despite the empty feel from the outside, servants were already in the building, lining the walls, bowing low to the group as they glided through.

"How many rooms?" Marie-Fey asked.

"More than one lady needs," Zaafira replied.

"Thirty-two," Zaydan answered, "Not including the kitchens and servants' quarters."

Marie-Fey nodded, not bothering to look into the rooms they passed as they made their way beyond the entrance hall, onwards up stairs and along corridors – until they passed one particular doorway and she froze.

She was still for a moment, then stepped back and pushed the door aside.

Her eyes widened as she stared into the room before her.

Until that moment, all the rooms had been similar to the rooms back in the women's palace. All done in the style she couldn't get away from while stranded in the desert.

But this room...

This reminded her of the blue parlour back home in Fetchfield Manor, which her family used during colder summers.

It was decked out in satiny white and pale blues, spindle-legged furniture and plush cushions. The mantlepiece was covered in little china oddities. A butler's tray to one side displayed fine bone china. The balcony doors had been painted white to match the theme. And a grand piano sat in one corner.

Marie-Fey walked in, staring around her, looking at the pretty chandeliers above, crystals glinting in the sunlight.

The sound of the rest walking in made her turn.

Maanah, Gharam, Zaafira and her maids were staring, open-mouthed and wide eyed, stunning. Zaydan stayed in the doorway, waiting for them.

"What on earth?" Zaafira muttered.

"This is my world," Marie-Fey said, turning away, her attention drawn to the piano.

"This is how your homes are decorated?"

"Yes."

Marie-Fey flipped the lid of the piano open and let her fingers fly up and down three scales. It wasn't just for show. It was in tune, with a beautiful rich sound and ready to play.

Gharam was by her side in an instant.

"What is this?" she gasped.

"This is a piano," Marie-Fey replied, closing the lid, "I shall show you how it works later."

Gharam's eyes sparkled in excitement and Marie-Fey turned to fix her gaze on Zaydan.

"Why is there a room like this?" she asked.

Zaydan gave her a small shrug. "Home away from home?" he offered, "I had a few rooms styled like this. There wasn't time to redo the entire palace in this style... and it won't always be your home... but I was able to cobble something together."

"Why?" Marie-Fey demanded, her eyes narrowing.

He just shot her a smile and straightened. "Shall we see the other rooms? Zaafira, why don't you have the servants prepare you and the ladies some tea?"

Zaafira visibly bristled. "I am to be left down here with these women?" she asked coolly.

"We won't be a moment."

"For shame and scandal," Zaafira replied, flicking her fan open and raising an eyebrow at him, "Do not ruin her."

Marie-Fey turned towards Zaafira. "I don't care for your suggestions, Zaafira."

Zaafira just gave her a dismissive shrug and smile. "Hurry back, less our lord has cause for concern."

"Zaafira," Zaydan hissed at her.

Marie-Fey eyed Zaafira for a moment, then smiled at her. "By all mean, spread your gossip all the way to the capital. Draw his attention and waste his time. I dare you to."

Zaafira's smiled vanished and she glared, snapping her fan shut. "What a childish line."

"I can only work with that I am given," Marie-Fey replied before turning and gliding out.

"I'll tell you again, you are wasting your time with that one."

Marie-Fey heard Zaafira's snipe but missed Zaydan's reply. He caught up with her soon enough as she found a new flight of stairs and turned up them.

"I see you have not become any closer since I suggested you might find an ally in her," he said, falling into line.

"Why in the world would I work to become closer with that little viper?" Marie-Fey asked, looking at him like he was deluded.

"Because allies are nice?"

"So is chocolate but it doesn't mean I'll stuff some in my mouth when I'm aware it's laced with poison," Marie-Fey replied and Zaydan snorted.

"Fine, be that way."

"I hadn't intended to be any other way," Marie-Fey replied, about the turn down a corridor before Zaydan's hand slid around her waist, swinging her around to guide her in the opposite direction.

She almost attacked his hand but he got it out of the way in time and led the way down the corridor.

"I want to show you the best place first," Zaydan explained as Marie-Fey rubbed away the lingering warmth his hand had leaked through her gown and corset – like one could rub a stain off. He quirked an eyebrow at the act and she quirked one back, daring him to comment.

He didn't, just led the way higher and further towards the centre of the palace.

It was a bit of a maze to finally reach their destination and Marie-Fey knew she would have to walk the halls a lot to ensure she wouldn't keep getting lost.

But they finally reached a short set of steps that led into the ceiling.

Zaydan went first, pushing the door in the ceiling wide and continuing on.

Sunlight beamed down through the open door and Marie-Fey squinted up, lifting her skirts and climbing upwards into the room.

The delight she felt at the huge circular room she stood in had to be crushed less to actually dared show Zaydan a proper smile.

But she stared around them, eyes wide.

The ceiling was made entirely of glass and supporting beams to keep it in its curving shape that matched the other roofs around the palace. The sky appeared endless and unobstructed. Sunlight poured down on them – windows open to allow for air flow.

The round walls were covered with sliding panels and when Marie-Fey slid one back it revealed a library of books, shadowed in their alcoves to keep them safe from the sun.

There was a large desk with writing equipment laid out, sofas, armchairs, plush carpets and huge cushions.

A telescope stood by the desk, pointing skywards.

Marie-Fey looked at Zaydan who was stood in the dead centre of the room, hands in his pockets, head tilted back, eyes closed, enjoying the sunlight on his tanned skin.

"Is this for me to use?" she asked.

He tilted his head slightly towards her, not opening his eyes or lowering his chin. "Of course," he said, "This is your palace. This is the observatory. I saw this room just once when I was a child. It was my favourite place in the whole world at that moment. The sky was filled with a billion stars, all clear and distinct. The moon was just above the horizon, level with my shoulder. I remember thinking you could see the world from here."

He slowly opened his eyes, the sunlight glowing against the endless black of his gaze and he smiled at her.

"I hope you'll find some solace in a room like this."

"I'm sure I shall," Marie-Fey muttered, looking away.

They didn't move for a long time, a stillness settling over them as Marie-Fey listened to the nothingness around them.

She couldn't even hear Zaydan's breathing.

Her eyes opened when she hadn't realised she'd closed them.

"Too quiet," she breathed.

"What?" Zaydan asked and it was like the world reanimated. Like Marie-Fey was drawing in a breath after holding it.

"It's too quiet," she said, louder.

Zaydan looked at her, then looked around. "The women of the palace can come and go if you choose it. You needn't cut yourself off from them just because you have a separate building. And your rooms in the palace won't be dismantled."

"Why is there a separate palace?" Marie-Fey asked, turning towards him and she didn't miss the way his eyes flashed with a moment of... something...

Horror?

Disgust?

Hate?

An interesting emotion he had not turned on her yet.

Now what would cause that?

But it was gone before someone with a less discerning eye would spot it and he just smiled at her.

"Because you are the mistress of this state and thus special," he said simply.

Marie-Fey narrowed her ice blue eyes at him.

"Shall we join the others?"

Marie-Fey didn't answer him, just turned back to the open door and carefully made her way down.

She waited for him at the bottom of the steps and he offered his arm to her, which she refused, and he led the way back down the numerous steps and corridors until they reached the parlour where tea had been served and Zaafira was growing steadily more bored of being around people below her status.

Zaydan stopped to mutter something to a servant while Marie-Fey walked in.

Maanah and Gharam quickly came over to her, as if they needed to check that she hadn't come away any worse for ware – or to double check that she didn't bare the remnants of Zaydan in her claws.

When they had seen the pair were both well, they prepared a tea for Marie-Fey and she took a seat while Zaydan walked in with the female servant trailing behind, carrying a tray.

On the tray were dozens of keys.

The servant set the tray down and bowed out.

"What's this?" Marie-Fey asked, eyeing the content.

"These keys all belong to the rooms throughout the palace," Zaydan said, taking a seat beside her and pulling the tray closer. "They're all yours."

Marie-Fey glanced at him.

He didn't notice and he didn't hide that odd expression quick enough.

Perhaps it was melancholy.

Marie-Fey flicked her gaze to Zaafira who was watching Zaydan.

She looked angry and Marie-Fey wasn't sure if that was to do with the arrival of the keys or her general mood for the day.

And then Zaafira's cold eyes latched onto Marie-Fey's.

"I hear you're returning home for a time," she said and Marie-Fey raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, I am."

Zaafira leant back in her seat, eyeing her through a narrowed gaze.

Marie-Fey gave her a sweet smile. "Would you like to join me?" she asked, "See how real people live?"

Zaafira might had thrown her teacup at Marie-Fey if her quick-thinking maid didn't neatly remove it from her grip.

Then Zaafira gave her a cold, ugly smile. "How kind, I would love to travel with you."

Zaydan straightened, startled. "You can't leave," he said, stunned.

Zaafira glared at him.

"How am I supposed I explain your departure?" he asked, his voice tight, "You're not supposed to be seen by the outside world. Lady Fey is bad enough."

"What's one more rule broken?" Zaafira asked, "Goodness knows you've broken plenty of rules before for me."

Zaydan shot Marie-Fey a look out of the corner of his eye before returning to Zaafira. "That was different," he said, his voice barely above a murmur.

"We just don't tell him," Zaafira said, her smile cold, "We can keep a secret, right? You and I? Add another the list."

"I have rules to follow, Zaafira," he hissed.

"It won't make him change," Zaafira shot back, her voice hardening and Zaydan drew back like she physically lashed out at him.

He was silent for a moment. "I'm not sure Lady Fey was genuinely even offering you an invitation," he said, his voice low.

"Oh I wasn't," Marie-Fey chimed in, delighted by the tension between the pair as she picked up her teacup, "But now I'm entertained. Zaafira, you're invited to travel with me to my homeland. I'll even let you stay in a guest bedroom rather than with the servants where your status as 'possession' barely earns you a place. Why not travel with me? We'll call you a maid that I need to attend me."

Zaafira looked ready to punch Marie-Fey in the throat and Marie-Fey smiled at her brightly, beyond entertained.

"I'll consider it," Zaafira growled, shoving to her feet. "We're leaving," she informed her maids and swept away.

"Do let me know your answer. It's only polite," Marie-Fey trilled after her.

Zaafira stopped at the door, glaring at her.

Marie-Fey sent her the smile all her siblings used when they wanted to dazzle a rival.

It worked.

Zaafira didn't reply and instead stormed out, her maids following, leaving Marie-Fey to laugh high enough to be let the sound stalk Zaafira down the halls.