"I KNOW WHAT WILL EASE YOUR MIND," Valencia's devil told her two nights after she drank the elixir. "No nightmares, but your past haunts you still. Go to the water. The water will calm you. I will calm you."

Valencia had never visited the water room in her suite. The entirety of the floor comprised of a pool filled with cerulean blue water cool to the touch. Her devil forced her legs to walk towards the room.

"No," she begged him. "I will die."

"But I thought you wanted your heart to be mine," the devil reminded her, "I thought you wanted to see me."

"It is!" she shrieked as he pushed her forward. "It is only your's!"

His laughter resounded against the walls of the water room. Valencia stood at the doorway; her next step would lead her directly into the water. Her devil had done this before: submerged her into water and made her talk with the dead. It happened twice. She met her mother both times. This time, Valencia knew he would make her visit the man from her nightmare.

Homer.

Her teeth clenched at the reminder of his name.

"This is a good thing," the devil said, "I promise."

He must be right.

Her hands still trembled as she stepped into the pool. The water surrounded her; she became a part of it, one with it, in love with it. She swam to the center, still fully clothed, took a deep breath and went under. Immediately, the clear water went hazy. Tendrils of grey smoke rose from the bottom, if there even was one. Her blue dress floated around her.

Suddenly she could breathe.

"You know what to say," her devil whispered.

She swallowed her hatred for Homer. She believed in her devil. "I, Valencia, am here to see Homer Lemay."

"Good," he said in her ear, "you have five minutes."

Five minutes until her very soul became a part of this oceanic other world and she couldn't swim back to her life at the Lehuan Palace. Five minutes until she could finally meet her savior, her devil.

The smoke swirled around itself until a silhouette of a man formed. It became darker and three-dimensional. Valencia sucked in a breath as his features became more prominent and his soul became lively with faded colors. His ginger hair, coffee-colored eyes, and pale skin reminded her of what used to be. What they used to be.

"Your time is ticking," her devil's voice echoed.

"Homer," she whispered.

Valencia swam closer to him as the smoke formed hands that held him captive. No matter how much she wanted, she wasn't repulsed by his half-smile or the glimmer in his eyes. After all, they used to be friends.

"Did you die?"

He almost sounded worried.

Almost.

"No," Valencia said, realizing why her devil brought her here, "I've come for answers. I only have five minutes here — so just answer this one question — why did you turn on me?"

"Don't say it like that," Homer said, "How could I turn on you, Valencia? You were my friend since birth. You knew me. I loved you dearly."

Valencia shook her head. "No one ever loved me. You loved her, Homer. So you chose her over us. Over our cause to end Andreas and Cyra's reign."

Homer attempted to grab Valencia, but the smoke held him back. "If you think I turned on you, please tell me, who orchestrated my murder? It was—"

Valencia couldn't bare to hear him finish. "We both turned on each other. But you, you were selfish to chose your lover Cyra over me."

"No," Homer chuckled, "you were selfish. Look at you! An empress!"

The hands made of smoke covered his mouth as his muffled screams faded with his soul. Instantly, it looked like Homer had never been there. Valencia's breathing faltered; the smoke entered her lungs.

She tried to swim to the surface, but the hands clasped tightly around her legs, pulling her down. Valencia heard the ear-piercing screeches of souls beneath her. She gave out a single, loud scream. But her time was over and her devil was taking her to meet him.

"Calm," the devil whispered.

She didn't struggle against the hands. She simply floated away from her problems, her past, her future.

•   •   •

RONAN STARED AT VALENCIA. Her wet clothes had been ripped off by the doctor trying to save her life. He started chest compressions as nurses covered her in blankets to warm her up. Her once tan skin was now pallid and bluish. Ronan, too, was drenched and freezing from jumping into the pool to save Valencia.

A nurse handed him a towel. "Go and change. It's better that you don't see this."

He looked at the empress one last time, sick to his stomach at the sight of her unconscious body moving to the rhythm of the chest compressions.

After he quickly dried up and changed, Ronan ran back to Valencia's suite. Some people looked at him strangely. Thankfully, Valencia's near-drowning was being kept private.

Valencia was in her bed, asleep, hooked up to machines, when he entered her suite. Her skin seemed to be returning to its tan state and her pursed lips gained its pink hue. She looked peaceful. Ronan noted that he'd never seen Valencia so calm; she was always busy doing good things since he met her.

The doctor stopped him. "We're giving her oxygen and she's being rewarmed. I'm going to keep a close eye on her until her oxygen levels are up."

"And they will be up, right?" Ronan asked, eager to know that Valencia would be fine.

"They should, yes."

"Good," Ronan nodded, "very good."