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 Diviines. Only he was born with a gift from the Diviine Six and should have the last say.

"The Crown has spoken. Lifetime in the Dungeons with possibility for appeal and 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. However, if they will be spending more time together, than he'll show her no mercy.

He grabbed her arm and yanked her close.

"We're going to have fun finding 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 his noble and middle-class sponsors 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 tongue of Valeera. Yadonesar has took many lives in its time, and many more to come. Perhaps the Purple Thief's.

The next prisoner entered the Throne Hall. Eron took that time to approach the throne where the King took a note from his knight escort Ser Garret and read it intently. Whatever the message said, it didn't sit well with the King. He shook his head and gave it back to the knight escort 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 burn every single person who'd have 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 held 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. Describing it would be too hard 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 had formed between them. Who knew what matter of time before one of them cracked.

"Also, never touch anyone in a court appearance and never – never speak of sorcery 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. He didn't want to linger his stay in a place he wasn't needed.

He descended into the Doomed and its dimmed and gloomy aura. He decided to begin an introduction to his inevitable sessions with the Purple Thief in one of the private chambers then have her paraded back to the Taefo with new bruises. He knew many ways to get her to talk without claiming her life. 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. It was custom to make an appearance at the Royal Luncheon and to prepare for the Ceremony's holiest of nights.

Within the packed cell, the Purple Thief stood out like a shining jewel. Everyone's eyes widened in horror. 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 two guards.

"What for?" The Purple Thief's eyes narrowed 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 spike.

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

But then she socked the guard in the nose so hard Eron heard the crack. The injured guard yelped and lost his footing as she shoved him right into the other guard. Eron flinched by her swiftness and watched her retreating form in a moment of shock and admiration. Her stunt aroused every prisoner now cheering her along.

"Wait," Eron ordered to the recuperating guards preparing to chase after her.

They gave him a strange look, but he ignored them and ran a few steps ahead. He summoned his fiery Sooth and focused on the lit torches ahead of the Purple Thief. He gave a wicked grin as he waved both arms then aimed his right hand at the girl's back.

Instantly, tiny flames in the torches closer to the Purple Thief came to life. Their yellow blaze turned red as they grew and licked the air across the hallway. He heard the clever girl squeal, sliding to a stop to avoid being burnt. And when she turned to run back, he skillfully waved his hand and his Sooth shivered through his body as he formed another fiery barrier, pinning her in.

He chuckled and passed a wicked grin to everyone now staring at him in silent fear. Calmly, he approached his flamed cage and realized it had been a week or so since he last used his power in this capacity. He sighed away the gush of excitement and relief as if he'd caged his Sooth for years to focus on the task at hand.

"Stop this," the Purple Thief shouted.

Eron allowed the barrier in front of him to evaporate into the air. Tiny red embers dripped to the floor and sizzled out. He placed one hand on the hilt of Yadonesar and the other he stroked the trimmed beard along his chin.

"That was fun wasn't it?" Eron said.

A hint of red from the flames flickered in the girl's purple eyes. She glanced between the barrier and him with pure disgust, hatred, and fear.

"I have her from here," he said to the guards. He closed the distance between them and grabbed her arm. "Let's go for a walk, shall we?"

He dissipated the barrier of flames, returning portions of it back into the lanterns. Then 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?" she said.

Eron frowned. He tilted his head and scanned her from head to toe, already growing aroused by the countless things he could do to make her talk. After a minute of this, the Strange shifted with unease, 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.

"So, you've never tried figuring out what you are?"

She shrugged. "I'm not power hungry like you."

"Still. Purple eyes are not normal."

"Nor are red," she said.

This one has a quick tongue, he thought, and he somewhat enjoyed it.

"You heal quickly, so there is magic in your blood," Eron said, stepping closer.

"What do you want? Really?" she said.

"To help you, of course," he smirked.

"Go defect yourself," she said then spat at his boots.

Anger resurfaced within his veins and the two lanterns within the cell and those in the hall flickered. The girl gasped, startled, and strengthening her guard.

"I'm not scared of you," she said, though he could sense and see the very opposite.

"Not yet," he mumbled.

"I don't need your help to figuring out what I am," she said.

"The King has appointed me-,"

"I don't give a futly about the King and his damn sentence. I'm getting out of here one way or another."

"With the coroners too? Huh?" he said, feeling the urge to simply charge her and give her a good beating.

She gave a dry chuckle. "You need to work better on your jokes."

His smirk dropped again into a snarl. For some reason he didn't like this little thief calling him a joke or jester. He clenched his hands and took a few steps closer. She backed away but kept her fighting stance. Her eyes scanned the bars and what lied beyond the bars behind him, and he smirked.

"Don't come closer!" she shouted. "Touch me and I'll kill you."

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

She gasped in panic. She swung her bound arms, trying to strike him, but he easily blocked it. As she 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 with his lighter armor he barely felt it. 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 onto hers and felt his groin harden at the sudden heat of her struggle.

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

He put his lips close to her ear, almost touching it. "Know this, my lady. If you don't behave yourself, I will indeed enjoy our future sessions."

"Fut you," she cursed and a sob escaped. "Get off, please. You're hurting me."

He sucked in the spicy aroma from her curly black 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 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 lady?"

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 someone who may also be a fellow gift from the gods."

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

"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 Fair 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 Fairest of the Fairs?"

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

"Mmhm," someone cleared their throat. "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 sky-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 the letter's true existence; 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 had been 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 dark 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. A black ribbon had been tied around it and 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. Dressed in the green shades and gold of royal status with the tree within a hexagon sigil of Ardania, he knew who they were. Royal escorts - and because he knew every face of the palace authority- specifically Prince Gideon's escorts. Their eyes bounced from him to the girl with questions they dared not to relate.

"Ser Merlin. Dargany. Has Gideon returned?"

"No," said the prince's knight escort. "I left him with the blacksmith and some escorts."

"Okay, so why are you two here?"

"Word spreads fast," said the redheaded knight escort. "He has requested to meet with her once he's returned."

"Who?" For a second, he'd forgotten the purple eyed beauty locked in the cell with him. He glanced between the knight and the thief who was just as surprised. "Why?"

"For company, of course," he said.

"Hell no," the Purple Thief shouted and edged further into the cell.

Eron didn't like this idea either. He began searching the ring of keys for the one for his cell.

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