Zara unintentionally leaned back on her heel. If Revan wasn’t standing behind her, she would have fainted. He frowned down at her.

“Pull yourself together. Please,” he commanded in a hushed tone.

Rubi beamed devilishly. “Isn’t he a gorgeous one? So loyal too. Almost like a dog…” Emran jolted when Rubi squeezed his rear. “…but thank all the gods he’s not.”

The hag was raking her steely eyes over him in such a lewd manner that it was making Zara nauseous. But her biggest concern out of everything was the fact that Emran—Pria’s Emran, her Emran—was here, somehow.

Why is he here?!

“Zara,” Revan whispered, jerking her body back towards his. “Please. Listen to my voice. Calm down.”

Zara rubbed her forehead, flicking off the sweat, and trying not to look too pained.

Emran’s golden gaze landed on her for a brief second before acknowledging the other two guests beside her.

“It’s nice to meet you all. Um…” He stared at Saren, smirking. “Wow. You are as tall as I am, Miss.”

“Isn’t she?” Rubi laughed. “She makes me feel like an ant.”

Saren laughed along pleasantly enough. “Yes…I am a big woman. What else can I say?”

It was like Zara didn’t even exist. Her jaw grew tight as her blood simmered. Why didn’t he remember her?

Revan, meanwhile, was growing agitated. “Why aren’t you listening to me?” he hissed. “Calm yourself.”

A force of his magic fell over her head like a blunt stump. She took a deep breath and tried to see reason. Of course he wouldn’t recognize her. The key reason for his bland behavior was the effect of Revan’s Sand Time. He wasn’t supposed to remember who she was, and it was important to keep it that way, lest they unravel an unpleasant chain of events that could lead to her capture.

But still. How unfortunate was this? Zara couldn’t help but think about how this reunion would have gone if magic hadn’t had to be in the way. But an uncertain gloom settled in her chest instead. It would have likely yielded similar results. He hardly knew her from the start; they had met at a bar when he was drunk and high, and then only ever had one real conversation in front of Revan’s home, with a fence in between them, all of which seemed like years and years ago—and he was out of sorts even then. It was natural for a man like Emran to not to remember a face as insignificant as Zara’s. However, if such obstacles ceased to exist, Zara would have been able to remind him of her. How nice it could have been, if she had been allowed to do such a thing.

“Madam,” Emran was speaking quietly now to Rubi, “may I have a word?”

“Can it wait?” she said. “The girls here are interested in the art of theater and I thought you could—”

Emran’s calm exterior trembled. His disconcerting frown had come and gone so quickly Zara wasn’t sure if she had imagined it.

“Please. It is urgent.”

Rubi huffed exasperatedly. “What could possibly be urgent now?”

“Your brother has not returned.”

In an instant, the woman’s mouth closed into a firm line.

“Did he say where he was headed?” she eventually asked.

“He left the premises during peak daylight. He wanted to look for…” Emran glanced at the group, who was curiously listening in on their conversation while pretending not to.

Saren coughed, playing with a strand of her hair. Zara scratched at a spot on her wrist. Revan turned his head away carelessly.

Emran cleared his throat, regarding his distressed Madam with concern. “Maybe we should discuss this elsewhere?”

Rubi clicked her tongue, her face distorting as though she wanted to rage and weep at once. “Oh that idiot,” she hissed. “Oh, this is bad. This has got to be bad. He is such a fucking fool! I knew this could happen. I knew it could! He doesn’t have a damn fucking clue about discretion. I tried telling him! He never listened to me though, did he? I knew some day, some day, he’d leave and never come back.”

“Um, Madam, we don’t even know what happened yet. If anything has even happened at all. Perhaps there is still a chance that he’ll be back later tonight.”

“He’s supposed to be here NOW damn it!” Rubi suddenly boomed out. She sighed, shaking her hands remorsefully. “Whatever. You’re right. When you see the moron again, send him to me. We’ll discuss this a different time.”

She turned back to her guests as soon as Emran nodded his assent.

“I apologize,” she said, her cheerful tone strained. “I’ve strayed too much. I’m just in the middle of a personal predicament.”

“Are you alright Rubi?” Revan asked.

Rubi bobbed her round head, her red lips stretching forecefully. “I am…happy enough.”

“Are you sure? Did something troubling happen with your brother?”

Rubi chuckled. “Revan, dear, it’s nothing of your concern. Yes, my brother is known for losing his own tail at times. He is not here at the moment, like I want him to be, but….what can I say? He’ll likely turn up later.”

“Do you work with him then? Does he help you run these events?”

“…In a way. He is a very helpful man. I can honestly say, I don’t know what I would do without him.”

Emran shifted, putting his hands together behind his back. Zara bit her lip, trying to keep her eyes off his muscled abdomen.

“Are you close with your brother?” Saren added.

Rubi smiled kindly this time. “Very. We shared the same womb, after all.”

She laughed merrily, but Zara couldn’t help but sense something wrong. Something about Rubi wasn’t rubbing off right. The mention of a twin brother was oddly disturbing, as though Zara was aware of whom she spoke of…even though she really didn’t. She gazed up at Revan to gauge his reaction. Revan was tight-lipped as always, but even he gave her a sideways glance, moving his head ever so slightly to confirm her own suspicions. He felt the same as well.

“But enough about that!” Rubi said. “Girls, why not ask me something of real substance? Hm? We have a lovely actor right in front of us. What is that you want to know about the craft? Or are you more interested in the dancing aspect? Should I call over a dancer as well?”

“Emran,” Zara croaked.

When those golden eyes targeted her face, Zara swooned. Heat crawled up her belly, even though his gaze was vague and lacked recognition of her. It didn’t matter though, and she did her best to keep her excitement hidden.

“Um, how did you become an actor?”

“That’s a good question to start with,” Rubi approved. “Dear, share with them how I discovered you.” She grinned proudly before answering it herself. “Hand-picked him up from a wagon, that I did. He’s one of Pria’s runaway boys.”

“Uh, yeah,” Emran said, sniffling. “Rubi saw me and she…” He looked to her, seemingly stuck before she encouraged him with a nod. “…she had me recite some lines for her. She said I had talent and potential to be great so…here I am. This isn’t my first show or anything, but I’m still learning. It really helps to step into the character’s role and let it take the reins. Better to jump right in, you know, and get real active with it. That’s how you get good. My role here isn’t a very big one right now. Maybe it could get bigger some day.”

Rubi winked at him. “I hope so too, soon.”

“What is your role?” Saren asked him.

“Yes,” Zara said, “I would really like to know what this whole show is going to be about, actually.”

“Tales of love and passion and heartbreak,” Rubi answered. “This story has many characters, not a single one to be called its main hero or villain. It is also not a linear tale. It is abstract, spanning for ages across the entire timeline of mankind.”

“Are you the writer?” Revan asked plainly.

Rubi paused, thinking about it. “I am one of the many who develops such tales.”

“Marvelous,” he muttered, unimpressed.

Emran cleared his throat. “I’m the queen’s house boy turned…lover.”

Zara nodded with great interest. “Oh.” She wondered how that was going to play out on stage. Did she even want to know?

“It…It really does pique my interest,” Saren stuttered, likely thinking the same. “Has this been your passion for a long time Emran?”

“No,” Emran answered immediately, laughing. When Rubi gave him a stern look, he replied again with, “Not at first. I didn’t think I could ever do something like this. Now I can’t see how I’ll survive without it.”

Clear eyes, clean shaven, combed hair, refined speech. Not a stench of liquor wafting off him. Rubi had done well taking care of this man. She may not be terrible after all, despite Zara’s feelings telling her otherwise.

“I’m excited to watch you and all your fellow actors perform,” Saren said genuinely. “Everybody’s worked so hard I am sure. Zara and I will most definitely learn something.”

“I have an idea!” Rubi suddenly piped up. “Why not join the show yourselves? Since you’re already back here and all, I can arrange for you to be a part of the second act!”

“What?” was Zara’s immediate, pulse-rising response.

“Yes! Take the advice I’ve given this one here.” She patted Emran’s behind. “Better you dive right into it. Get the experience. Immerse yourself into your characters and I promise you, you will flourish.”

“Excuse me,” Revan spoke up while Saren and Zara visibly panicked beside him, “but this is all too quick and these women have very little experience.”

Rubi waved him off. “Oh don’t worry about that. The second act is much later on, and I only want them as extra backup dancers. It’s very very simple and easy to learn fast. The routine is one you can do in your sleep.” She was already pulling them both further into the crowded room. “Come. We have extra costumes here that may fit. The bigger one, Sarah was it—?”

“It’s Saren,” Saren corrected.

“Right. Your large stature is not normal for our group, but you are gorgeous and I may have something for you yet. I’ve been meaning to compliment you on how fluently you speak by the way. Your accent is like a melody, and I bet your mother tongue is just as—”

“Ms. Rubi, what about our bags—?” Zara protested, trying to find any way to get out of this.

There was no way she was getting on a stage in front of a wide audience—much wider than the one she “performed” for last time—again. She wasn’t ready for this, and she wasn’t feeling well. Revan’s disgusting concoction had helped her sober up but she was still slightly nauseated. She hadn’t had anything to eat since this afternoon. But even without food, she’d hurl up her gut. Being dragged onto a stage against her will was much too familiar of an episode. It brought back flashes of a dark stormy night, along with every terrible incident that came before and after it.

This wasn’t her old life. She’d be damned if she were to mimic any part of it tonight.

“Your bags are safe where you left them by the door. Do not worry. Thieves are never among us, as there is plenty of security walking about. We do not take such things lightly.”

“Revan,” Zara hissed back.

But Revan ignored her plea for help this time. Shockingly enough, his lips curled up into an amused smirk.

“Rubi,” he called. “Be sure to find Saren something nice and green. It matches the necklace I’d like her to wear from here on out.” He shot Saren a pointed stare, and she briefly nodded back. Even though she didn’t fully understand its purpose, she was willing to have it around her neck again if it would please Revan. Even if it was something that could potentially hurt her, she’d probably wear it with pride anyway. For him.

Zara’s insides prickled. Even she wasn’t sure if Revan’s power-sucking gemstone would actually cause Saren harm. It made her feel a bit guilty about her thorny attitude earlier. But the guilt quickly morphed into irritation again. Saren was her friend, and she was supposed to be rather smart and intuitive, from Zara’s first impressions of her. However, the blatant desire Saren had for the man was off putting. From Zara’s limited knowledge of romance, derived solely from novelists and playwrights, love and infatuation could make people very dumb.

“Wup! Careful doll,” Emran warned when Zara bumped into his arm. Her hand detached from Rubi’s forceful grasp, leaving her standing closely in front of him.

She’d been so busy glaring at Revan behind her while Rubi tugged her forward that she hadn’t thought to look where she walked among such chaos. Two more steps further would have had her headbutting into a slimmer woman wearing an extravagant headdress.

“Are you alright?” he asked her, concerned with how she was staring up at him like she’d been caught in a wrongdoing. He laughed. “What is it? Did I hit you that hard or something, girl?”

It wasn’t that. He was touching her shoulder, which sent a shudder up her spine. Up this close, he was more handsome than he was when they first met. That night at the red-light bar, he had been out of his mind with drugs and liquor. Here, he was seeing her clearly.

“I am so sorry,” Zara mumbled awkwardly. “Forgive me. I should have taken care to watch my steps.”

He grinned brilliantly, taking her all the way back to the tavern, where he had smiled all the same. “Hey, loosen up. That funny talk’s not gonna make you any friends in these parts.”

“It’s not?” she asked stupidly. Why was she like this with him? This type of conversation was just as familiar as his overwhelming presence.

Emran snickered. “No. Drop the stiff speech you’ve got going on. Or am I just making you that nervous?” His eyes danced over her.

Zara felt her skin go hot. “Um. No.”

The hand on her shoulder tightened its grip suddenly as Zara lost herself in his hypnotizing gleam. She could stand there in his proximity for as long as he wanted her to, but when his brows started twitching anxiously, Zara’s heart jerked in fear.

“Have we met?” he whispered. His eyes were beginning to grow wider, glancing all around her face for some search of recognition that was lost to him.

Zara gulped. The room grew darker for her in an instant, as a feeling akin to ice water flowed through her veins. This was wrong.

Her head moved away from him. Revan was standing behind Saren, who had changed from her purple dress to a sparkly emerald green wrap—and nothing but the wrap. The generous curves of her body were like a show of their own, at least to all the men in the room. Her inky hair flowed over her bare shoulder, and the jewelry she had on previously was now absent. Revan held up the green gemstone necklace he’d retrieved from her bag. The stone twinkled as he placed it carefully around her, letting it rest over her near naked chest.

Saren’s face glowed with a pink blush as she turned to face Revan with a shy smile. They matched each other, Zara thought absently, in terms of their fine appearances. They’d make a good portrait if Rubi’s stout frame hadn’t thrust its way into the middle of them, thus ruining the picture.

“What did you say your name was again?” Emran asked her curiously.

“Um…” At this point, she couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t have him remember. For her sake, and Revan’s.

But what could she say? What should she do? He wasn’t going to let her go so easily. The longer she stayed near him, the bigger the risk of his memory returning.

When she willed The Sorcerer for his help, he finally caught her worrying gaze. Alarmed, he abandoned the two other women with him—along with the throng of female dancers that had waltzed his way—to come to his apprentice’s aid.

The air shifted when the gem’s delicate touch rested over her skin once again. A foreign strength coursed through her, and she became better aware of her surroundings than before. Unlike the first time she’d worn it, Saren understood its significance now. Or at least a little of it. She knew it was important to Revan, and it had everything to do with the strange powers she had within her. She desperately wanted the night to end, to be alone with the man, to ask him all the questions she had about it.

What was it? What did it mean? What was she, if not like him? Because she wasn’t like him, that she knew for certain. Was her power greater, or lesser? And was it linked to short blackouts and memory loss? She had always suffered from these strange blips of time passing, unaware of it until somebody felt afraid or annoyed enough to point it out.

He knew more than he let on. He knew her better than she knew herself.

She licked her dry lips, watching him as he strode away from her. His back looked strong, and his fingers had been warm and delicate when they had grazed the back of her neck. A light wetness pooled between her legs.

Standing on a stool, the ghastly Madam Rubi clutched Saren’s chin with one hand and brushed red coloring to her lips with the other. Saren vaguely recalled the back of her naked shoulder being painted on as well, by one of Rubi’s many assistants, but she didn’t bother inquiring about it. She was too busy watching Revan leave her for Zara.

The gem’s glow was subtle, but Saren felt its heat. A strange pressure fell over her head and heart. It drew her to the man in a certain way she couldn’t explain, but she forced herself to stay put.

“Gorgeous, dear,” Rubi stated. “The thin one is next. If she could just get over here, she can change out of that dreadfully boring garb she’s got on and our backup dancer Muni here can show you both what to do.”

I don’t care you hag of a whore. Just let me be.

But Saren smiled politely before turning her attention back on the couple ahead of her.

Zara and Revan. Those two were in no way related. That was a fact she had guessed from the start.

“He is my instructor. I am his apprentice.”

His concern and attentiveness for her was one that he would never have for Saren in this lifetime.

The fat red whore tugged on Saren’s dress again—if she could even call this green piece of cloth a dress—lowering the already low neckline even more. Saren concealed a scoff. She already figured out what this woman was. Rubi may be a legitimate authority figure here, but she was no playwright, nor director, nor writer. She was no real artist. Saren sensed the same nature in Rubi as she had with that vile man in the alley, the one Zara had condemned away to nothing but a mutilated limb.

Revan was now shielding Zara from Rubi’s handsome manservant, or whatever he really was. For what reason could this be? The room’s chatty noises drowned out their voices, and she was too far to hear them. He looks so protective. How chivalrous of him. How lucky for Zara.

Saren was sure Revan had an idea of what the red shrew beside her was really up to. Unlike Zara, who seemed a little slow to catch on. She was slow in many things actually, now that Saren thought about it.

What makes her so special over me?

Cold envy struck her like a wind. Strong enough for Revan’s sharp eyes to snap toward her for a long second, before Zara stole his attention away from her, once again.

Sometimes, Saren swore he could actually hear her silent threats in his own mind. Given what he was, she wouldn’t be fazed if that were the case.