Celia was stalked anxiously from one side of the room to another. She hurriedly left the ballroom and retreated to the guest wing, where she and Gabriel had a room prepared. Her heart was still racing, and the pulse throbbed painfully in her temples. What happened there... was unbelievable. She refused to accept that it was Gabriel's idea. It must have been some plot, and she bet the governor manipulated his bastard son to go for such a cruel and pointless move... She bet...

She hid her face in her hands to muffle a frustrated scream. Her fingers itched to grab fancy furniture and trash this damned place. To break precious crystal glasses, smash painted golden chairs and rip apart fluffy pillows. But she did none of that, as that would resolve nothing and only interfere with her plan.

Celia held her steps in front of the mirror, staring at her pitiful reflection. Her carefully applied makeup was smudged and ran down her cheeks, leaving dark streaks. Her chest was heaving as if she just ran across the whole Iron Shore.

"Stupid, naive fool. That's what you are," Celia whispered, wiping her face with a handkerchief. She could still hear the distant buzz of the party, music playing and people chattering as if they had just witnessed another entertainment, not a public torture. It made her sick; she only wanted to leave this horrible place and never look back.

But she couldn't leave without giving Gabriel a chance to explain. A rational part of her brain was already hard at work, devising several solutions for her current predicament. However, a small, foolish part of her clung desperately to the sliver of hope that maybe there was still a chance for reconciliation. Maybe, just maybe, she shouldn't rush to the conclusion without knowing all the facts. And so, she kept waiting, fiddling with two identical rings on her right hand.

The time passed slowly as if it mocked Celia, who was still tense and felt as if she was sitting on the bed of pines and needles. Still, when the door finally opened, and Gabriel came in, she was not ready for what she was about to do.

"Celia! There you are," he said, an honest relief spilling over his face. "When I saw you ran out of the ballroom, I wanted to follow immediately, but then people had so many questions and I...." He paused and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. Are you alright? You looked distressed."

"You think? What the hell you've been thinking?"

Gabriel took a step back, surprised by the cold fury in her voice. "I've been doing what I always do. Gaining support for our cause." A small smile played on his lips. "And you wouldn't believe how many people want to throw their money at us now."

"I don't care about money, Gabriel!" Celia exploded her voice more like a distressed shriek than her usual confident and cocky tone. "You dragged a shackled prisoner to the ballroom and publicly mutilated him. How on earth is that not bothering you?"

"Oh." The realisation finally seemed to dawn on him, and he cocked his head. "I had no idea it would bother you so much. I thought, in your line of work, you've seen far worse."

"Don't give me that crap about my line of work." Celia scoffed. "We both know I'm not a good person, but this... it was a senseless cruelty. And for what? To get applause from those corrupted, sick scums we called nobles?"

Gabriel sighed and raised his hands. "Celia, we've been through this. If we want our plan to work, we must have enough funds to prepare ourselves. We can't do that alone, as much as I'd love to."

Celia crossed her arms. "And what exactly is our plan? Conquering the lands over the mountains? That's the first time I've heard about it."

"You want to change the world, don't you?" Gabriel asked quietly.

Celia blinked. "What?"

"You never said that, but essentially that's what started your dream about fleeing into the New World, no? That burning need to escape this horrible place, where life is a struggle, and the corrupted few are ruling over the starving masses, who are treated like cattle. You wanted to find a place where your birth is not the only thing determining your fate, where you can be the master of your own fate. Am I wrong?"

"No."

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but such a place does not exist."

"You don't know that."

He shrugged. "Maybe I don't. But I'm pretty sure I've lived long enough to know that believing that if you moved to a different place, life would improve is a tad naïve."

"What should I do then? Give up? Lie down and die?"

"No. You should take the lead and change the world."

Celia laughed, but it tasted bitter on her lips. "You say it as if it was easy."

"It's not. You can't change the world just like that." He snapped his fingers. "It's also not enough if you change your own ways. People won't see you as an example. They will trample you and then forget you've ever existed. No, to change the world, you must be someone. You must have enough power and authority to make other people listen and follow you. Would anything change if we just made our way over the mountains and left people like my father to lead us? No, it wouldn't. They will only bring the same ruin to the New World."

"And does your father know you plan to take over his seat?" Celia raised her brow.

"I think he might have his suspicions after today. After all, he's not a fool, and he could see how people started to see me in a completely different light."

"Let me get that straight. Your great plan is to conquer the lands over the mountains, force the natives to serve under the threat of cutting off their wings, and all that so you could be some kind of emperor to set up your own rules?"

"Well, it does sound a bit megalomaniac when you put it like that," Gabriel said with a sheepish smile, but his blue eyes watched her carefully.

Celia shook her head. "I've never signed up for anything like that. I'm not a soldier, Gabriel. I had no interest in fighting your war."

"Why is it suddenly my war?" Gabriel frowned. "You wanted to barge across the mountains. Do you think natives would let you do that? Even if you somehow managed to cross the border and travel further into the New World, you would always be a dangerous stranger. If we stick together, we could make a place for ourselves. We would shape that world into what we want it to be. A home you always wanted."

"But at what cost?" Celia asked quietly. "What gives us the right to invade other people's homeland and claim it as our own?"

Gabriel spread his arms wide. "We don't have a choice. The world is dying around us. We either find our way out or die here. I know it's not an ideal situation, but people from over the mountains made it clear already that they won't let us cross peacefully. But they are unaware of how strong we are, and once they realise, it will be too late. It might sound brutal, but that's the way of the world. The strongest survive, and they dictate the rules."

"Torturing a helpless prisoner is a great start to building this new world you spoke of. Made me wonder what else you have up your sleeve."

"Why are you so hostile of the sudden? Did something happen? I know you visited the prisoner. Did he tell you something?"

Celia was momentarily taken aback. Gabriel had never mentioned he knew about her visit, so she assumed he wasn't interested in what was happening with the stranger. But apparently, nothing escaped his attention. "What could he possibly tell me? He can't speak a word in our language."

"Why the sudden outrage then? You took him prisoner. You gave him over. What did you think would happen to him?"

Celia did not respond because he was right. She had no right to judge him when she left the stranger at the mercy of ruthless people.

Gabriel sighed and rubbed his jaw. "I'm sorry, Celia. I know it was not easy for you to watch this. But just like you, I've done things I'm not proud of, but as long as they progress my plans, I'm ready to make some sacrifices and dirty my hands." He crossed the room and plopped on the bed. He suddenly looked tired, his shoulders hunched, and his charming mask gone. Celia suddenly wanted to hug him and hated herself for that weakness. "This man is a symbol. He's an obstacle standing in our way to the New World. And we failed to get any information out of him. How would that work as an announcement, hm?"

"Probably not very well."

"Exactly. We needed something more, something big to pull people to our cause. To make them see our dream of embarking on the New World. And what is a better catch than showing them that the only thing keeping us from that sweet escape is an enemy we can easily defeat?"

"Mutilating a shackled man isn't exactly a fair fight, is it?"

Gabriel laughed bitterly. "No one cares about fair, Celia. People are easily manipulated; they want to believe in easy solutions. They want to believe that they are better than others. The only thing that made this man a threat was his wings. Take those away, and he's nothing but an uncivilised brute."

Celia turned around and strolled toward a little table with a bottle of wine and crystal glasses. "Then you succeeded in manipulating all those nobles into believing in your cause. Let's drink to that."

"I won't say no to a drink."

Celia uncrooked the wine and tipped the bottle over the glasses. "Say, Gabriel, what will happen once we cross the mountains and make a safe perimeter there?"

"That's where the real work starts. We would have to secure our position and convince the natives that we came there to make their world better. With our technology, I believe we can improve their life significantly. Although I don't assume they would accept our leadership, there would probably be a lot of scuffles and some shows of strength needed to convince them it's not worth standing against us."

Celia blinked away her tears, put down the bottle and fiddled with her rings, her back still to Gabriel. "What if I don't want to stay there to see that? What if I decide to leave?"

There was a brief silence, and then Gabriel said quietly, "I'd be very sad to see you go. But I won't force you to do anything against your conscience."

She smiled sadly and slid a red gem on the ring on her middle finger open, sprinkling one of the glasses with white powder that immediately dissolved in the crimson of wine. She turned around and slowly stalked to Gabriel with wine in both hands. "I'd be sad to go." She handed him the glass.

"Then don't," he asked quietly, his eyes boring into her hopefully. "You would be an amazing queen."

She pressed her palm to his cheek and smiled sadly. "I never wanted to be a queen. All I ever wanted is to be free."

"What could be more free than the leader? No one could tell you what to do or how to live. Isn't that freedom enough?"

Celia sat beside him, took a long sip from her wine, and Gabriel joined her. "Not the kind I had in mind. And I would make a horrible queen."

Gabriel laughed. "No, you wouldn't. You and I... we could do anything. The whole new world, where we would be the ones who set the rules. We could help so many people. Just think about it. It's all I ask." He downed his wine and wrapped his arm around her. "I love you, Celia. Whatever you decide, I'll accept it. Though I got so used to having you around, I'm not sure how well I will cope without you in my life." He kissed her brow. "Hey, why are you crying?"

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" But as soon as the words left his lips, his body got limp, and he fell back on the bed.

"For what I'm about to do," Celia whispered.