Wicked Steps

Emberlee had been left in peace to prepare for the disastrous tea party, but as expected after her little lethal demonstration she found herself inundated by unwanted company. Oberon the Pretty had stayed at her tea table until the end of the party, ensuring that neither of them was entirely sober by the time it wrapped up. Sir Ludwig had silently fussed over her wounded hand, unable to do more for her than offer a clean handkerchief unless she allowed it. After the careful exiting to dry land, Prince Damien came to her side, seeming neither concerned nor annoyed by her actions, at least not where the entire Adaban High Society could see. If it been just their small argent from Xutia, maybe he'd have let a trace of his opinion out but Oberon the Monolith and Titania both joined them while Méabh stayed to be admired by her Court.

"How did it feel to murder someone in cold blood?" the Monolith demanded as they approached the Mirror, still under the watchful eye of Méabh and her Court.

"Her blood wasn't cold," Cinderella pushed eye contact, not at all willing to back down after all she'd already done. "And mostly I felt her eyeball pop as the porcelain pierced it, and then a squishy crunch as I pushed deeper," this time when she stepped closer to the Monolith she could see him finally assess her like the threat she was. His aura glowed with luminescent lightning, ready to strike if she moved to attack, "Are you going to try to tell me your hands are clean Monolith, or are you concerned for the state of my conscience?" She tilted her head in consideration, still holding them in Fairy honesty. "We both know neither of those facts are true, Oberon the Monolith, so tell me what it is you're really scared of?" This time Cinderella could feel the Monolith try to pull free from her gaze to escape the compulsion to answer.

His will was strong, his experience far greater than hers, and yet they both knew she had been resolute in the fate of Méabh's power while he'd succumbed to it; his insecurity held him as a prisoner to her now. "That you are exactly what your Prince declared you to be; inevitable," the answer was pulled out of the Monolith like an abscess being purged.

"Keep worrying," she promised, looking from his great height to Titania's petite gaze, "and you Titania, what do you have to say to me on the matter?"

"The spell was Boidae, it would crush him like the giant snakes to the south," she answered an unexpected question. "Ask your Hound when you're alone and he'll tell you that every time he breathed it would crush down on him harder. It would have kept going as he struggled and then crushed more until the bones of his rib cage caved in, splintering his lungs in a rather terrible way to die if he hadn't suffocated to death yet. And the spell would keep crushing his corpse until it was a messy ragdoll of shattered bone and desiccated flesh." Titania's smile was filled with the horrors she'd known the spell enacted, "in return, you were quite merciful in providing a swift and comparatively painless death." It was her all but tacit approval, though Titania was a people pleaser by nature, she'd also been the one to teach Emberlee about spells and casters. It must have been satisfying to see her put even that brief lesson to good use.

Cinderella didn't fight to hold Titania when the other woman tried to free herself from their shared gaze. Titania stood next to Oberon the Monolith, both watching her with wariness or reserved respect, and Oberon the Pretty stood with Prince Damien, neither one of them looking surprised by the proceedings. The Mirror awaited, so without further ado she finally stepped through it to return to the Pretty Palace.

And from that moment on she was never left alone.

Titania insisted that she wanted to dress Cinderella for the second day of celebration, and as Emberlee's measurements had been previously provided so gifts could be prepared, there was a literal wardrobe for Titania to choose from. When Titania wasn't being astonishingly critical of Adaban fashion on Emberlee's height and more slender frame, Oberon the Pretty was plying her with food and drink to try and distract from a few particular absences. Prince Damien, Sir Ludwig, and Oberon the Monolith had all gone off to some private conference.

Unsurprisingly, Mirrors and mirrored surfaces were carefully controlled and rather rare in Adaba. It made the Wedding gift to Andrion and Clara all the more pointed and valuable but also highlighted the almost overpowered nature of Fairy Magic. Now she knew that some property to Adaba itself gave them that advantage and that her Xutian Blessing was a countermeasure their magic couldn't suppress. With no Mirrors to spy through, she could still ask the creatures of Adaba to be her eyes and ears. Though that was limited to animals with enough intelligence like her birds and spiders, here it was clever snakes that filled Adaba's warmer climate and a colourful type of bird. Titania and Oberon could play pretty distractions all they wanted, and a lack of Mirrors could likewise attempt to keep her unaware, but Emberlee's little Beloved darlings kept her from being ignorant.

The Monolith, the Knight and the Prince were discussing the murdered Fairy. She missed out on the beginning of the discussion, but the snake she eavesdropped through found them in time to overhear enough interesting dialogue regardless. "...any consequence at all, she was a direct threat to Xutia's Ambassador and was dealt with accordingly." Prince Damien's voice could be heard but she couldn't risk looking through the snakes' eyes and being entirely distracted by that instead of being able to react to Tonia and Oberon the Pretty.

She'd never done this before, but as Emberlee allowed Titania and Oberon to deliberate over her banquet attire and treat her like a dress-up doll, she could also hear the other room's conversation. A Xutian Blessing bolstered either by her Magical maturation or by the unique properties of Adaba itself. "It was this Knight who was at risk to the Spell, not the Ambassador," Oberon the Monolith argued.

"Am I not an extension of my Mistress as you are yours? Would an attack on you not be the same as an assault on Méabh?" Sir Ludwig spoke in his defence, revealing that he'd understood Adaban culture more than anticipated.

"Are you equating your status with the Ambassador to my dedication to Méabh?" there was a threatening tone to the Monolith's words, and Emberlee had to let no sign of her eavesdropping show on her face while the other two spouses entertained her.

Oberon the Pretty stood before her, holding a fabric up to compare it against another, while in her head she could imagine Oberon the Monolith looming threateningly ever over the muscular Knight, "The Marchioness' power is wrapped around his throat like the collar he deserves," Prince Damien sounded at ease and she knew what my expression would be like the manipulative dragon at his best. "Méabh's power embraces you in no less deserving a manner, so his statement isn't wrong. If you wish to punish the Ambassador for eliminating a threat, you first have to establish that targeting her people doesn't count as a threat against HER." It was easier to hide her distraction as she stepped behind a modesty curtain to change into the latest selected outfit. She could see the angle Damien was working, but she also knew that Oberon the Monolith wouldn't back down until he felt satisfied she or her people suffered in return. "If someone attacked you, would you not expect Méabh to act, or is an attack on you something she'd permit?" He'd maneuvered it so regardless of Oberon's response it'd either require him to back off significantly or accept retaliation.

It was a bold, aggressive move to make but if Oberon was trying to punish Emberlee for killing the Fairy today it made sense to react so determinedly. "I do not require saving," The Monolith denied the possibility.

"If you think to harm my Mistress, I'll gladly test the theory to find out." Sir Ludwig was just as undeterred.

"What do you think Cinderella?" Titania demanded her attention while Prince Damien and Sir Ludwig sounded to be about to physically brawl with the Monolith.

Emberlee blinked and looked down at the outfit, resisting an urge to laugh. They had decked her out in silver and gold; a silk gown that felt more like a negligee, and gold seed pearls the likes of which she'd never seen before. She looked to be dressed in the glimmering light that reflects off of water, the accompanying jewelry as decorated. The fit of the dress skimmed her skin without clinging but otherwise was almost as demonstrative as a Stussican-style gown would be only without the embroidery or see-through fabric. "Ortega silver, Landquist gold, and an Adaban aesthetic; a perfect combination for demonstrating our friendly alliance," Emberlee consented to the dress, her words in direct opposition to the sounds of animosity in her head.

"If Méabh allows me to seek a pound of flesh and blood from your Mistress, there's nothing you can do to stop me," that was a threat from Oberon the Monolith.

"Perfect, tomorrow's Banquet is for celebrating Méabh as Lady and the gifts will be alcohol, weapons and jewelry," Oberon the Pretty reminded, friendly where his counterpart was antagonistic.

"If you require a pound of flesh and blood I will give it to you," Sir Ludwig's response nearly sent an alarmed look to her expression.

It was a headache to hold both conversations clear and separate, a migraine to do so while her Blessing slowly drained her still recovering energy, and proper agony to let no sign of it show despite imbibing a truly indulgent amount of alcohol before the all occurred. "The gift we have for Méabh would qualify for all three," she managed to reply to the Oberon in front of her.

A jewelled decanter filled with a rare Xutian liquor, so potent that a single tumbler would knock even the most robust drinker over. Emberlee had a bottle in her cellar that had been a wedding gift her parents hadn't dared to share, believing they'd have time. The bottle was Emperor Andrion's selection, while Emberlee had gifted the nocturnal orchid.

"I would require a literal pound of flesh and blood, what limb are you willing to part with?" the Monolith sounded intrigued by Sir Ludwig's masochistic martyrdom.

"Do you think she should wear her hair up or down for tomorrow?" Titania started to fuss with Emberlee's hair as she swore she heard a blade being drawn.

Only Sir Ludwig had a sword on him at all times, but the Adaban Fairies all seemed able to pull things from nowhere and she wasn't certain of what abilities Prince Damien's new Relic eye had granted him. Hers allowed a blood sword to defend herself with, but his eye was meant to See.

"With our Banquets and how today turned out, I'd say up, and maybe a crown," Oberon the Pretty may have been jolting.

"Will you allow this Knight to lose that hand he is offering to pay for the sins of your Envoy?" Oberon the Monolith was not.

First Emberlee had taken Sir Ludwig's eye by happenstance when she'd eliminated Ainsley, now he was willingly sacrificing a hand because she'd killed to protect him. Only it wasn't out of care for Sir Ludwig like he so mistakenly assumed, but out of the pragmatic realization that letting the now Nameless Fairy kill him in front of the Adaban Court would put people she cared about at risk. "Up would be best," Emberlee focused on the Oberon in front of her and not the one she heard in her head, "we can always lace chains into it for effect." Gold or silver would look striking against her black tresses.

"It is his hand to offer, and we both know his Mistress would allow it with his consent," Prince Damien was a ruthless political animal and he used all that they had learned to manipulate Oberon as much as he did her.

"No I literally mean to sit a crown of silver and gold on you to suit the dress Emberlee," Oberon playfully chided, missing the astonished look on Titania's face at the use of her real Name.

"So be it," Oberon the Monolith accepted and so did Cinderella.

"Then definitely wear my hair up," she confirmed, hearing the unmistakable sounds of a limb being cleaved from the body.

"Hair, dress, and makeup decided, time to eat," Oberon the Pretty enthused as Emberlee could hear Sir Ludwig's attempts to muffle his pain before she let the connection to the snake go.

"I think the others might take a little longer," her reference to the missing members of the group got their immediate focus, "so why don't we discuss what type of ambush I might be walking into tomorrow?" She allowed them to recover by walking behind the modesty screen.

"Do you think after today anyone would dare?" Titania's voice seemed to doubt.

It seemed her Knight would be freshly mutilated, so maybe. "Absolutely," Emberlee answered as her Mother would have; nothing was more reckless than an adversary that assumed success. She'd made an impactful statement today so it would be easy to predict that tomorrow she'd feel safer, so a smart strategist would plan accordingly. "As we saw demonstrated today, who I am seated near has a significant impact on the sequence of events. So it would behoove you to simply forewarn me now."

"This is not Xutia," Titania warned, "Méabh's set a standard of acceptance for what you did."

"Tell that to the Monolith, he's the one demanding flesh and blood," she couldn't help retorting. "I disrupted a spell only days after you taught me how, should I be suspicious?"

She hadn't meant to force the eye contact but Titania's pink iris was nearly flooded in surprise by her pupil. "I don't want you dead Cinderella, but I do hate you for taking something precious from me." Exhaustion started to grey the edges of Emberlee's vision, a nearly unmistakable indication of how close to collapse she was after the stress of the day combined with the lack of recovery after confronting Méabh's power. "Taking Méabh's focus off of you?" that didn't seem right somehow.

"You'll understand soon Cinderella, but I don't blame you for being ignorant to all the intricacies involved," Titania smiled affectionately despite admitting to hating her, unable to lie but also incapable of escaping the honesty their eye contact demanded.

"What do you blame me for then?" the resentment was obvious by now.

"You are Beloved by all who meet you," Titania said like that was a simple thing to comprehend, "even as I hate you I can't help but want you to love me too."

"Your Monolith has no trouble hating me," from the moment they met, or even before.

"He's only capable of loving Méabh," she could see that it physically pained Titania to admit that the agony of confronting the reality of never being loved by him despite loving him too etched into her face and still she couldn't look away, "but those of us who are newer spouses still remember what it was like to exist before being loved by Méabh."

She could feel Oberon the Pretty's hands helping support her as weakness set her body to trembling, "You should let her go, darling," he prompted, all but whispering in her ear, "It's hurting you to keep her in your will."

"I do not want to keep those who do not want to give themselves to me," she felt the admission ease some terrible burden off of her, breaking the eye contact no one wanted anymore.

"I am Méabh's, and by her will whomever she shares me with," Titania sounded as tired as Emberlee now felt, "but not yours Cinderella. I'll see you all tomorrow, "she left without hesitation.

There were layers of implications in everything but her body was shutting down in survival mode, putting her to sleep after the strain she'd put it under. It was different than any other experience she'd endured and yet she KNEW that she'd be unconscious soon.

"You do trust me to be a gentleman, don't you?" he sounded astonished even as he all but carried her to the bedroom she now shared with Prince Damien.

"Blame yourself," for all his flirtations he'd never been truly inappropriate.

"I carry only a third of the blame Emberlee, the other shares are yours and Damien's," Oberon carefully set her on the bed, doing nothing more lascivious than removing her shoes.

"Don't leave," it sounded more desperately scared than she wanted; too many people had tried to kill her when she was alone in her bedroom to ignore the possibility now. "At least wait until Damien is back," she tried to temper the earlier vulnerability.

"Can I make you a reckless promise Emberlee," he stayed in the room, sitting on the lounging couch to talk from a safe distance.

"Only if you tell me your Name," if he could still remember it after being Méabh's Oberon the Pretty for however long.

Silence from the couch and she could feel the cavernous uncertainty of unconsciousness hunt her down. No answer and no promise immediately issued forward so she assumed her requirement worked to quell his impulse. But as the inescapable weight of her eyelids forced them down, she felt the side of the bed tilt from where he'd sat on it to lean over and whisper, "My Name was Aerig, and I promise to help you eliminate the one who has made you fear sleeping alone."

She couldn't respond, sleep sucking her under like a rip tide.

The first day of Méabh's coronation has been sunny and bright, the Maiden on display. When Emberlee awoke on the second day it was raining and thunder threatened a proper storm. It was the first and only precipitation Emberlee had experienced an Adaba, and the sound of it on the tiles of the Palace was almost musical. At some point her fiancé had returned, Damien still asleep and curled around her in a protective embrace.

As with the afternoon before, it was the last truly pleasant moment of her day.

Breakfast was far calmer, but after that, she bathed and donned her attire for the banquet in the afternoon. She'd gotten no straight answers about what to expect, and exhaustedly anticipated something truly dire. The rain necessitated an indoor banquet, and yet the attendees yesterday had all but covered the surface of the lake, so Emberlee was curious about a solution that would satisfy Adaban cultural practices.

The first adjustment Emberlee hat to make involved the Knight she'd heard sacrificing a literal limb, Sir Ludwig had his usual sword hand but the now absent one wasn't a bandaged mess as she expected. Oberon the Monolith had taken his pound of flesh and blood in payment for the death of the Nameless Fairy, but not one drop more; Sir Ludwig's stump looked remarkably cauterized and tended to. It was now capped similarly to the eyepatch he wore as he slowly lost a piece of himself at a time, all because of her.

The second adjustment was seeing Aerig and the Imperial Prince in matching attire, one silver and one gold to suit her gown. Prince Damien always looked resplendent in the gold of his family Name, but Ortega silver suited Aerig just as naturally.

"Why are all Adaban meals held outside?" she had to ask, even breakfast had been in a sheltered gazebo; not rained on but not indoors either.

"With a Nation as beautiful as ours, wouldn't you want to sit in view of it while eating?" Aerig's rejoinder was only partially sarcastic. "Of course, it helps that it never snows here, and the nights are as lovely as the day."

He wasn't wrong, there was so much constant sunlight that Emberlee had finally gained some of the honeyed tan her Father always wore. "So when you visited Ortega, was that the first time you ever saw snow?"

His grin was as bright as ever, "Yes, and I was absurdly grateful to not have to travel through it after hearing the Vassal Lords complaining."

"Though that also means you've never experienced the joys of a snow cone or juice slushies," Damien had the same views of winter as most Capital dwellers, never having to face the bitter, deadly winters Ortega endured.

"You eat the snow?" Aerig sounded incredulous.

"We eat the snow with either sweet juice to flavour it or syrup rolled in it like candy," Damien confirmed. "But not just any snow, it's carefully kept clean so it's safe to eat. Don't eat yellow snow."

Now the Adaban was giving them both searching looks as if he thought they might be pulling a joke at his expense. "What does snow taste like?"

"Cold," Emberlee answered with banal honesty, "it's just frozen rain."

"Rain we're familiar with," he gestured to the still-pouring storm outside.

Despite living in an almost impossibly warm and sunny climate, the buildings and streets of Adaba seemed built to redirect all this rain without a trace of flooding, the building's architecture hid rain channels that fed into cisterns and aqueducts pulling the water off the streets and through canals to drain away. It worked remarkably well in the urban setting, and Emberlee could imagine the storage used to convert the extra rainwater into crop irrigation.

The Mirror revealed an interesting solution to the rain and Adaba's exterior eating habits; a glass roof had been raised like a canvas tent would have been in Xutia. It wasn't at all reflective, adhering to Adaba's careful control over Mirrors, but it was surprisingly similar to the stained glass windows produced by Ortega craft masters. The rain sheeted against it, the wash of movement over the colours mesmerizing, and it was such a fragile-looking structure that Emberlee knew it had Magic supporting it.

Underneath the dazzling glass was a greenhouse of humans instead of plants; tables set out as they had been for the tea party, but sitting six today.

Thankfully when they crossed through, they were led to the same table instead of being separated. Damien sat on her right side, Aerig sat to her left, and across the table sat Méabh, Titania and Oberon the Monolith, only Oberon faced Damien while Titania faced Aerig. Méabh had always been garbed in white, so it was a shock to see her dressed in a deep crimson gown, the spouses at her side similarly garbed. About them the Adaban Court all wore shades of red, setting her gold and silver as brilliant contrast, Damien and Aerig no less striking. It was all very clearly premeditated, though she wondered if Méabh had always intended to set it up this way.

"Today we celebrate Méabh as Lady, protector and provider. May we always look to you as our eternal guide," Titania toasted Méabh today, with all following suit; likely it'd be Oberon the Monolith making tomorrow's toast.

Despite her wife making the toast Méabh stared at Emberlee as if fascinated with what she saw there. "It is the way of nature to be born, mature, experience, and pass on only to be reborn anew in a different form," Méabh addressed the Court without looking away and Cinderella shuddered as she felt the tidal wave of Méabh's power waiting to crash down, "So it is our way to endure, adapt, and conquer in the face of all obstacles. For today my Children, let us eat, drink, and be merry."

She expected anger, retribution, and even outright violence after the disaster of a tea party, and Sir Ludwig's dismemberment. But it seemed that the very literal payment of flesh given had absolved her in the eyes of Adaba because Emberlee now bore witness to their revelry.

Eat, drink, and be merry indeed.

She'd been astonished at the almost casual exhibitionism that Stussica had demonstrated, and the constant teasing had prompted her to realize that Adaba had a much more adventurous culture than Xutia tended towards. Their breakfast tea party to celebrate the Maiden favoured the use of alcohol, so it wasn't a surprise that the Adabans were drinking heavily at a midday banquet aimed at those who were adults but not elders. But she had not anticipated the almost competitive nature Adaban banquets took on. The deluge of rain continued to pour outside, the Adabans ate as if starving, drank as if the loser would be the only one to suffer a hangover, and then further debauchery started to cascade from there.

Their table of six was the sole anchor of calm in the maelstrom of hedonism that rode the wave of Méabh's power unleashed. She wasn't certain if this was their true nature revealed or an involuntary reaction to the euphoria Méabh inflicted. Both options had an unsavoury aspect to them; if this was Adaba at its wildest then any Ambassador from Xutia would struggle to adapt, if this was induced then was Méabh any different than an addiction?

While salacious, sexual, or even sadistic acts raged all around them Méabh, Titania, and Oberon the Monolith watched her side of the table. "All the triumphs and tribulations of adulthood are revered and reviled in equal measure today," Méabh explained, for once not trying to force the eye contact she'd striven for the last time.

"For all to see and participate in," Cinderella acknowledged, endeavouring to keep any judgment out of her tone.

"Birth, life, and death Cinderella," Méabh gestured out, the increasing levels of nudity around them a fleshy distraction. "Today many of the next generation will be conceived, is that not a thing to celebrate?"

She didn't argue with that; Ababa had a planned season of maternity which indicated a whole series of complex social programming that was all but alien to Xutia, but that didn't mean it wasn't effective. Xutia tended to see a lot of babies born in waves after winter, even if it wasn't a planned phenomenon, at least as a Social program there'd be resources available in anticipation.

"This happens across the Nation?" Prince Damien's darker complex hid any trace of his possible discomfort.

"To varying degrees," Oberon the Monolith answered, "the closer one is to Méabh, the more intense the impulses feel."

"And all the red?" Aerig asked the only indication Emberlee had that he'd been excluded from the monochromatic plotting of the spouses.

"Your Cinderella was the inspiration," Titania's pink eyes almost glowed in the reflection of her scarlet robe. "The blood drawn and the debt paid."

"And all those who belong solely in Méabh's Court are dressed accordingly," Oberon the Monolith pointedly declared, looking at Aerig like he couldn't be more pleased with the outcome.

Now Emberlee understood, Méabh's cryptic comments from days ago making sense; the Adaban Ambassador to Xutia would remain who it'd always been. He truly was Oberon the Pretty no longer, but Aerig the Envoy. "I will not so easily relinquish such a treasure," she used Prince Damien's possessive language to her benefit now, knowing all understood the draconic reference.

"Neither did I, but if you look closely you'll see that you truly live up to my expectations so I had no other choice but to gracefully retreat," Méabh's eye contact was like a fist around her throat.

Cinderella didn't have to look at Aerig to understand what Méabh meant, the fact that she knew his Name was enough. "I am not your replacement," blunt honesty felt almost liberating.

"Despite my predictions, you are your own creature," Méabh agreed. "After tomorrow I'll have nothing further to teach you," she seemed almost mournful about it all. But that Tsunami wave of Méabh's power finally crashed down on her, crushing, consuming, and unceasing. "Tomorrow is a festival to the inevitable cycle of life and death. Méabh is eternal, but tomorrow Cinderella dies."

That ominous threat had Sir Ludwig stepping close enough that Emberlee could feel him against the back of her chair, but he halted immediately when she gestured to. "Cinderella served her purpose; any Name I bear after her will be mine to select."

Méabh was eternal, Emberlee had to be even charging. She'd been Cinderella until that Name didn't suit her, but she hadn't become the next version of who she would be yet. "Accepted," Méabh broke the eye contact after that, and neither of her remaining spouses dared meet Emberlee's gaze.

But neither Damien nor Aerig flinched from her when she looked at them, her fiancé seeming almost infernally calm about witnessing Méabh releasing a spouse from being her husband so he could be their Ambassador. "Did you gentlemen need to stay longer?" she gave them the choice, and more importantly the implication that she'd honour it.

"I'm with you," Prince Damien didn't hesitate to rise with her, ignoring Sir Ludwig who still hovered protectively close.

"And you Aerig," she deliberately met his desperately needy eyes, "are you with me too?"

"It seems I am, inevitably, yours," he agreed, finally standing with her and Damien.

"As I said yesterday Cinderella," Titania called out to catch her attention, "you are truly Beloved by all who meet you."

"I don't demand your love Titania," she corrected, "and as you and Oberon have demonstrated you're free to hate me instead of loving me. I'm malevolent enough to demand your most authentic self."

"I cannot wait until you leave Adaba," Oberon's deep voice was all too satisfied, and it was unclear if he meant her or the former Oberon at her side.

"Have you still not realized that even though he's mine now, Méabh will find a third spouse before long? You will always be her first spouse, but you will never be the last one." She was cruel now to counter how hurtful he was being to Aerig.

"And you will always have to unwillingly share," Damien added in, standing next to Aerig with a supportive hand on his shoulder. "His role as Ambassador is not a consolation for his place here, Oberon the Monolith, but an evolution of what he's become from it." they had become close in their way during Aerig's visit to Xutia, and aiding Damien's new Relic bound eye.

They left the literal orgiastic chaos of Méabh's celebration behind, retreating to the former Oberon's palace for one more night of rest before Cinderella had to die.

It made for a sombre evening. Without discussion, Damien took Aerig for a private venting of vulnerability, while Emberlee was left the task of preparing herself for the morrow. The third day of celebrating Méabh's coronation would be a funereal festivity for the Crone and the cycle of death that led to renewal. Méabh was eternal, but the Name of Cinderella no longer served her so it was time to lay it to rest. Another would be selected to be the Ambassador to Adaba, but they'd lack the Fairy Bond Emberlee had held and so a new Name would be selected for them, and she'd pick a more suitable Name for herself.

But she wasn't left alone, Sir Ludwig had come into the bedroom after her and sat on his knees to receive her attention; eye patch removed. She regarded what was left of the one pristine Imperial Knight, seeing the traces of the honourable, handsome man he'd once been. He'd lost an eye and a hand to her need for retribution, and yet she still didn't feel like he'd redeemed himself. Emberlee had truly believed his honour as a Knight would keep her safe, but his obedience to Jimena and Clara had broken that, and him, beyond repair. Being her Loyal Hound would only end in his demise, and yet they both seemed satisfied with the relationship despite its fatalistic edge.

"You paid the cost for my actors, "she addressed the amputation.

"Mistress, my body is your tool to use, my life your coin to spend," he confirmed verbally to spare her any burden of guilt.

A more foolish person would assume that her Knight was romantically in love with her instead of dutifully dedicated to her. "Are you offering to die in my place tomorrow if I ask you to?" she held his scarred face in her hands.

"If that's your will Mistress," he accepted his demise so easily.

"What if my will is for you to survive Méabh, but spend you in my strategy against Clara?" he succumbed to the eye contact without struggling.

His remaining hand came up to hold hers to his face, "If my last duty as a Knight is to fulfil your will, I will have died an honourable man once again," he met her gaze with his lone eye and accepted his fate.

"Your legacy will be to help build the security of my Empire, and you will rest only when I give you leave to," she looked away from the strangely intimate submission and wasn't surprised to see Prince Damien watching from the doorway, his red eye all but glowing.

"Yes Mistress," Ludwig agreed, still not trying to look or move away. "The Empress has tried to kill you directly or indirectly since the moment she sent me to serve Jimena," he was astute, "and although I serve the Empire faithfully I believe you to be the future of that Empire, and not Empress Clara."

"So you'll help the Marchioness kill my Father's wife because I will one day be Emperor and she the Empress?" Damien demanded in painful clarity.

"I will spend my wretched life securing your throne Mistress," Ludwig's indirect confirmation made her smile because if she wanted to seize the throne from the Landquists, her Imperial Knight was pledging to help her even if it killed him.

"Good boy," she pressed a kiss to his forehead and then stepped away from him in clear dismissal.

"Malevolent Fairy," Damien chided, unable to stay still after her blatant demonstration.

"Manipulative dragon," she didn't argue, enjoying his jealousy in a way that likely wasn't sweet or innocent. "You should go, Ludwig," she didn't look at him, confident he'd do as commanded.

Prince Damien seemed agitated even after the Knight left, stalking to the bathing room even as he pulled the Adaban-style golden vest off to discard it on the floor. Considering that there was no violence today the air should have been celebratory instead of tense, and yet Emberlee could feel the danger cracking in Damien's movements. He filled the tub with hot water, the heavy steam in the air not diffusing the tension at all, and despite the frequency she'd seen the Prince shirtless it still left her agitated.

"Are you planning to sacrifice me to rescue Xutia like your ancestor was originally?" the question came out without Fairy's honesty compelling it. Despite it all Emberlee wanted to be able to trust him, to give herself the chance to build a marriage and a future. It was naive and childishly silly, but she wanted him to love her and maybe love him in return if possible. He'd never indicated otherwise but she couldn't ignore the correlated similarities.

"No," Damien pointedly met her gaze so she'd know his honesty, "I have no intention of ever letting you go, or allowing anyone to try and take you from me Emberlee. I am a possessive dragon and you are the greatest treasure I could ever covet or hoard. Use your Knight, claim the Empire that is my birthright as yours, but please take me with it." His iron discipline kept him at the side of the bath instead of approaching her, and she could see the strain of it in the tense muscles of his torso.

He was as uncertain of her intentions as she was his, their eye contact now finally relieving them both of fear. "Rule one Damien, but then I will take all you have offered me."

"Then you should let me bathe in peace, or else rule one is going to be sorely tested," he seemed settled and she left feeling no less agitated than she entered.

It was still early evening, the banquet had left them with plenty of day. The final day's ceremony wasn't starting until sunset, but it also felt like a rare chance to recover and catch their breath. Aerig had been removed as the Méabh's husband and established as the permanent Ambassador to Xutia, Méabh had declared that Cinderella was going to die, and Prince Damien had been forced to play passive witness in a manner counter to his nature; they all needed a chance to decompress and yet it was now or never. And Emberlee couldn't get out of crisis mode to FEEL everything that had happened. A bath would likely help, but Prince Damien had claimed that solution so Emberlee was left pacing the floor after changing out of the heavy dress into the lighter sleep robe. Although the robe covered more skin, its lack of ornamentation made it lighter than a breeze.

She made it another few paces across the room before she considered that maybe rules were meant to be tested and found herself going back into the room after Prince Damien. If she couldn't relax, she could at least distract herself from it a little.

And Damien in a bath was certainly distracting.

Water dripped from his hair, darkening the mahogany brown ever further. His hazel and carmine eyes looked at her without insecurity despite his nudity, and only the surface of the water covered his lower body. Since there was no obvious threat chasing her into the bathing room, he didn't look alarmed at her entrance, though it was painfully clear neither of them knew what she wanted by coming in.

"Going to return the favour of washing my back?" he teasingly offered the distraction she desperately needed.

"I always return my favours, otherwise I'd be a lout wasting people's resources," she took the suggestion and walked around the bath like his nudity wasn't an issue.

Like continuing to share a bed, Emberlee was slowly trying to condition herself to be accustomed to it, he was her fiancé and in a few short months, they'd be married and expected to start for an Heir. That would require nudity and sharing a bed, so it was practical to build the habits now, to a certain degree. And Prince Damien seemed inclined to assist, settling in the bath so she could wash him as he had once done for her.

"You are no Lout Marchioness," Damien seemed far more relaxed than she felt, "though you do attract all manner of buzzing flies."

"Flies like both shit and honey, that's less a compliment than you think," Emberlee bluntly quoted something her Father used to say.

Damien laughed, the water sloshing at the movement. "The General does love that idiom," he recognized the source. "He'd always advise my Father to try a friendly approach before considering wars of conquest."

"Father is a brilliant General, so of course he'd prefer peace," she missed her Father, and Uncle, even though it hadn't been all that long since she'd seen them both.

"And yet you didn't hesitate to be fatalistic," he'd waited to discuss the Nameless Fairy's death.

"I'm the Ambassador invited by Méabh and yet she threatened my Knight to bypass violating guest etiquette. I could have let her kill my Hound, after all his life is in my hands, but that wouldn't have bought us peace. I had to set a boundary that would deter others from testing my resolve," she explained, not feeling a moral burden for taking a life.

"You killed her so you wouldn't have to kill many others later," he recognized her strategy.

"Unexpected brutality is only effective if utilized at the right time. Now Adaba knows that I have no need for a weapon to be deadly, and will respond to a threat most precipitously."

"Thus sparing others from sacrificing their lives trying to prove they're superior to you," he carefully gripped her wrist to look at the cut on her hand. "Though it did leave its mark on you, and not just your reputation," he pressed a delicate kiss to the dressing.

"Broken porcelain is magnificently sharp, but it's not easy to predict how it'll break," she'd shattered plenty as a clumsy child under her Mother's tutelage and the lesson had served her well.

"My beautifully murderous Fairy," he teased but quickly returned to being serious. "I don't like the discussion of Cinderella dying tomorrow, ceremonially or not. It feels all too much like a setup to turn it real."

She was beside the tub, looking at his face while he still had her bandaged hand in his. "I have no intention of dying for real or allowing anyone to take from me what I don't wish to lose. The Name Cinderella has served its purpose, but I've outgrown it like an old pair of shoes. And it's a way of Méabh letting me go, by choosing my own Name in Adaba, I set the boundaries of who I am instead of accepting the role chosen for me."

"So what Name will a malevolent Marchioness choose to represent her magnificent self?" he was having fun with alliteration.

"You'll find out tomorrow along with everyone else," including herself because Emberlee had no idea what Name to claim.

Now he splashed water at her, unexpected and childish and she gaped at him in surprise. And then splashed back, not that splashing a naked, bathing man would be all that effective. Especially as Damien decided the best retaliation was to haul her into the bath with him. This was how Emberlee ended up drenched in the bath, kneeling over Damien with the blood sword to his throat and the grin on her face declaring victory. It was hard to feel dignified as her hair and robe dripped piteously, and she suspected she now looked like a half-drowned rat.

"Rule one Marchioness," Damien ignored the danger the relic at his throat presented, holding Emberlee in a loose embrace, "how far are you willing to let me push that boundary before you use this sword?" He pulled her closer and it was either slit his throat or discard her Relic, so Emberlee spared her fiancé's life and let him kiss her.

Rule one held firm though, she retreated from the pleasantly distracting Prince and changed into dry clothes.

Outside their bedroom both Imperial Knights stood guard, though she had to wonder what Sir Eloise thought of Ludwig's missing hand. And by the time Damien had bathed and dressed, Aerig came to seek them both out. It was now supper time, the sun low on the horizon and plummeting quickly due to the latitude, and tomorrow was the final day of celebrating Méabh's coronation. After that, it'd be time to pack up and leave, and the Xutians would be taking the Adaban Ambassador with them. So they sat at the table and couch in the room, Aerig pulling that delectable wine from nowhere to share and a servant sent to bring food to the room. Outside the torrential rain had calmed to a mere misty drizzle, the thunder spent, but still incurring a cozy atmosphere. Damien and Emberlee kept the conversation light, both of them knowing the Envoy needed time to process and grieve the loss of his position as Méabh's husband Oberon the Pretty, and settle with the freedom and potential being Aerig the Ambassador gifted him. Like being Cinderella no longer served her, Aerig had evolved beyond being simply Oberon. Hard to process all the emotions such a thing could stir, and Emberlee wasn't being divorced from her polycule to do her metamorphosis.

They sat with Aerig wedged between them, using the limited comfort of closeness to help ease the ache he'd be feeling inside. Because both of them could See that Méabh's power no longer wrapped him in its demanding embrace. "We should bring a sapling from Adaba and plant it at the Imperial Palace gardens in Xutia," Damien's suggestion seemed a little odd at first until he continued and she realized the parallel, "I'm certain my Nation's soil will be sufficient for it to take root and grow into a mighty arbour."

"Adaban trees like a tropical climate, Xutia's Capital is too cold," Aerig still thought they were only discussing horticulture.

"Bergerac March is tropical," she'd memorized her Father's new territorial map the moment Emperor Andrion had shown it, "and my Father's more than capable of growing strong roots," she lived as her parents' successful legacy.

Aerig finally seemed to realize they didn't give a damn about coconut trees and were trying to assure him that he'd always have a place to belong with them because he burst into tears. Their friendship was a pitiful supplement for the love and relationships he'd just been severed from, but it did mean he wasn't alone. Emberlee wasn't sure how to offer comfort, but Damien seemed nonplussed by it, pulling Aerig into a hug so he could sob if needed. She could only awkwardly pat his back until the weeping stopped, Damien seeming amused that she had no clue how to console a friend.

"Vivian's going to be thrilled to see you again, you should bring her some Adaban romance stories to fluster her with," was the best Emberlee had to offer, and at least Aerig laughed weakly at the suggestion.

"The treaty calls for the import and export of natural resources and trade goods, I don't think flooding the Xutian market with Fairy porn was the intended effect," Aerig answered, wiping the tears with the handkerchief Emberlee passed him.

"It'd probably lead to a population boom," Damien interjected, "though not as date-specific as Adaba plans." As they'd left a literal orgy of hedonism behind at the Banquet there wasn't an argument to his statement.

"We are in the season of Action here in Adaba when plans get done, tasks completed, babies made," Aerig was laughing more heartily now, grief not gone but slowly growing endurable.

"Xutians like to use the excuse of cold, dark winters to explain why so many of our babies are born predictably later, there's a reason my birthday is in Firemarch," Emberlee pointed out. Then again, Uncle Albert had gotten Lady Igraine pregnant in the middle of Xutia's summer so it wasn't a consistent pattern. Her cousin would likely be born at the start of the New Year in Frazil but could potentially arrive at the end of the year in Ventus if Uncle's charms had gotten Lady Igraine in bed immediately.

"Our population is smaller than yours," Aerig explained, the emotional vulnerability he'd displayed passing without judgment, "We simply have less offspring so the dedicated drive helps counterbalance that."

"So yesterday was play-explore-learn, and today is eat-drink-procreate, what is tomorrow?" Damien had picked up on the pattern of thirds as well.

"Rest-death-rebirth," Aerig answered without obfuscating. "Méabh is eternal, but Adabans do not fear death the way many cultures do; like a caterpillar must cease to exist before the butterfly emerges, we too will die and become something else. Being Fairy Bound just makes the timeline longer."

"Will you be dissolving into goo and forming wings?" Damien deliberately teased.

"And waste this beautiful face?" Aerig pretended to be offended by the suggestion. "I am no longer bound by Méabh's list of rules or my position as Oberon, but I did earn my title as the Pretty for a reason."

"The Xutian Nobles all seemed to agree, when you left several hearts were broken," Damien agreed.

Eventually, they poured enough wine into Aerig that he was distracted from thinking and he passed out in their bed. His Nation was celebrating, and they all knew Méabh would have taken her spouses with her for their copulations, but he'd been cut adrift from it all. He truly loved his Nation and Méabh, and she'd used those absolutes to make him the perfect Ambassador to Xutia. Thankfully Adaban furniture anticipated a crowd, they all fit into one bed without discomfort, neither Emberlee nor Damien willing to let their friend suffer his heartache alone. He slept cocooned in their comfort, oblivious to it all and so hungover in the morning that Emberlee doubted he even realized it.

It was the last day of death's coronation, and tonight both Méabh and Cinderella were supposed to die. One to be reborn still locked in her cycle of eternity, while Emberlee had to determine who she wanted the world to see her as. Because as Méabh's reputation and power kept her people safe, so too would Emberlee's.

It was no longer the time to be kind Cinderella.