"What do you mean? Why not?" Zaydan asked, staring blankly at her and Marie-Fey marched away.

"Ladies! Gather everyone together! Now!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the halls as she walked through the grand back doors. The women around her stared, startled. "Hurry up!" she snarled, and women scattered. "I want everyone! From department heads to the lowest slave! Now!"

"What are you doing?" Zaafira seethed as they followed her through the halls to the grand entrance hall.

"I'm planning," Marie-Fey replied.

"What do you mean you can't tell me what you're planning? What is happening?" Zaydan asked, shaking his head.

Marie-Fey just turned to him. "You are your brother's eyes. What is he doing?"

Zaydan frowned, then his gaze unfocused for a moment, before he blinked in confusion. "He's... overseeing the preparations of a caravan. I don't know where he is going though."

"I do, he's coming here," Marie-Fey replied.

"What? Why? How do you know?"

Marie-Fey folded the letter so it only show the postscript then turned it to him and pointed.

"I don't know who wrote this. The rest of the letter was written by Beldon but not this line. I don't know who is warning me, but it doesn't matter right now because it is correct. Zahir isn't going to wait for me to figure out how I might kill him. Zaydan, I need you to go away."

"What?"

"You're his eyes but he is also yours. It's safer for you not to know more than what you've already heard."

"No, I can't help you if I don't know what's happening."

"Zaydan," Marie-Fey said, gripping his hand. "This isn't about actively helping me. This is about shielding me for long enough that I can set a plan in motion and he is unaware of it. You already saw the arrow, if he's aware of that, that's already an advantage to him, he can't know more. So please. Walk away."

Zaydan stared at her and she released his hand. He stood still for a moment, staring at the others who stepped away from him to wait beside Marie-Fey as the palace ladies began to filter in, then took a breath, a step back then turned on his heel and walked away, striding down the length of the grand entrance hall, throwing the doors open and vanishing into the sunlight, the doors closing on his retreating back.

Marie-Fey drew in her own breath, then unfolded the letter.

"So what is this plan you cannot let him know of?" Zaafira muttered, her eyes still on the doors.

"I'm sending you away."

"What?" she snapped, a glare flashing to her. "Where? The capitol?"

"No. I'm sending you all away. Every woman in this palace."

Zaafira's eyes narrowed. "How? Where? Where do you think you can put us?"

"I'm sending you to Zaydan's palace," Marie-Fey replied and Zaafira gaped at her. "He has his own state he commands, and he has a compound of his own. It is unused and absent of women, unlike here. Most importantly, Zaydan says Zahir wields power over his women within these walls, but not beyond them. You can stand within Zaydan's palace and Zahir will psychically have to go there to harm you. If he does, well then I failed but I'm hoping that my brother has sent me something beneficial rather than just pretty."

"How could your brother help against a supernatural being?" Zaafira asked, frowning.

"Beldon is an acquaintance of gods," Marie-Fey said simply then stepped away as the last of the women filtered in. The entrance hall was now cramped and buzzing with low, nervous voices as they watched Marie-Fey.

Marie-Fey swept her eyes trough the crowd. There were girls missing, such as Azeeza who had yet to regain consciousness, but she knew everyone present. Each and every one of them. She knew how each of them felt towards her. Knew that most didn't care for her and wouldn't bat an eyelash to hear of her death. Others would delight in it, delight that a minor inconvenience in their miserable lives was gone.

She doubted they'd ever really know enough to appreciate what she was putting on the line for them.

"Alright, be quiet," she snapped, her voice louder than the hall and everyone fell silent. "We have less than a week to accomplish this and you are going to follow my instructions to the letter. You are all leaving this palace. You are to abandon it and you are moving to a new location."

Silence met her statement.

And then an eruption of voices. Everyone shouted over each other, everyone clamouring to be heard, everyone failing to think that she might explain more if they waited.

Marie-Fey drew in a slow, irritated breath, her eyes darkening and Zaafira hurled her fan into the crowd, striking one girl across the forehead and bouncing into another.

"Shut up!" she snarled, and everyone shut up. She pointed into the crowd. "Give it back. Now."

One of the girls scurried up the steps with the fan, holding it out and Zaafira snatched it from her, snapping it open.

"The next to talk gets left behind," she growled, "I assure you; you don't not want to be left behind."

"So, the mistress has a new plan," Sobia said and Zaafira looked at the ceiling.

"We can leave her behind," she muttered and Marie-Fey looked at the ancient women who still wasn't dead.

"Yes, she has a new plan," she said, and Sobia let out an old, ugly laugh.

"You know what's happening in these halls, don't you?"

"I know," Marie-Fey said, her voice dark. "How is it you know as well?"

Sobia chuckled. "I am very old, young lady. I have seen a lot over the many, many years."

Marie-Fey narrowed her eyes. "You're one of them, aren't you? One of the one's caught in a loop. And you remember. You didn't think to tell anyone?"

"And what benefit will it do us? The loop continues. What do you hope to achieve? You cannot stop this."

"Well at least I'm willing to try," Marie-Fey said, folding her arms. "Are you going to sabotage me?"

Sobia considered it for a long moment, her wizened bony fingers tapping her papery chin. "No, let us see what this mistress does," she said with a cold chuckle.

Marie-Fey 'tsked' low because it sounded like a form of sabotage even if the old lady was saying she wouldn't. She returned her attention to the hall however. "Prepare to leave in haste. We do not have time. You must be long gone by the end of the week."

"But what about the main palace?" one of the girls spoke up, "They will not just let us go. How will you explain a caravan so large?"

"I will handle it," Marie-Fey said, though nodding her head to acknowledge that it was a genuine problem.

"Why?" someone else asked, "Why do we need to leave? What reason can you give us to warrant this?"

"Simple, I dislike you all but I do not want any more of you to die," Marie-Fey replied before turning away. "Start packing. Take your essentials. Do not overpack. You will not be travelling in luxury." With that, she glided away, heading back out of the palace, back to her own.

"Are you insane?" Zaafira asked, falling into step with her.

"Sure, why not, let us settle on that," Marie-Fey replied.

"So, we all run to Zaydan's palace and then what? Hope above hope Lord Zahir doesn't think to look there?"

"No," Marie-Fey said, stopping in the courtyard to look at her. "You will all be leaving; I shall be staying behind."

"What?" Maanah cut in, staring at her.

"I will naturally be staying behind to handle the consequences, why would I run?" Marie-Fey asked as she started walking again. "What is the sense in sending you away only to not remain to delay him for as long as I can?"

"You can't!" Maanah cried, grabbing her arm, yanking her back.

Marie-Fey gaped at her for the very audacity of the act but for once Maanah didn't back down as she stared at her.

"You cannot remain here!" Maanah snapped, Gharam nodding behind her, her delicate hands to her mouth. "You more than any of us need to remain alive. You are the mistress of this state. Your safety is paramount."

Marie-Fey looked at her for a moment, then unhooked her arm from her grip and smoothed the sleeve of her gown. "No, it is not," she said simply, "In this land, in the role I play, my safety is a tenuis, fragile thing. My survival hangs in the balance and a long life is not owed to me. Not without allowing the deaths in this palace to continue. Which I shall not. I am not the mistress of this palace; I am simply the individual currently standing between the end of a story, and a cliff hanger."

The other three looked at her, then at each other, clear confusion at her words in their eyes and she could only chuckle to herself as she left them for her parlour that sat off her apartments, away from the one Constantine remained in. She would have to tell Kilan that line, he would be amused by such a turn of phrase. Whenever she next saw him, she would...

The train of thought faded away slowly as she took a seat at her writing desk, considering the parchment before her, the ink and quill laid out with precision care as only Gharam's perfect eye for detail could achieve.

Slowly, she unhooked the lid of the inkwell and picked up her preferred quill, drawing a sheet towards her, quill point poised over the top of the page.

Her gaze flickered to her hand, a distant part of her mind surprised by how steady it was, then she placed the quill to the page and began to write.

To those of my immediate and extended family,

If you are reading this, I fear it means I have not survived my encounter with the world of enchantment...