Cleo furrows her brows deeply and blinks rapidly trying to make sense of the sight before her. She brings her hand to her one eye and rubs the sleep away but nothing changed.

Kaleb was frowning in his deep sleep, Cleo could of sworn she saw him blink in his sleep but he didn't so much as open them. He remained dead. She sees his eyes flickering constantly beneath his lids and that was all it took for her to hold her breathe in and to welcome him to the present but he jus refused to wake up.

She has spent the last few days here in his room sitting on his bed talking to him, or just maybe staring at his body. She told him about her marks. The mage. The cold. The demons. She mentioned everything. It was more therapeutic than anything else. She could finally let the ball inside of her explode, even though she had no reply. It still felt damn good.

She was wondering why she has never made a friend to do exactly that. One she could go to everyday and talk about absolutely anything. It could of been Jezio were he not a villager. Which left her to a child, and a near dead Kaleb. It was better than nothing. But worse than everyone else.

She sighs out loud and straightens her stiff back tilting from left to right slightly as she hears the clicks and joints cracking. She groans in relief. She slept too uncomfortable last night, and woke up in the strangest position with her arm beneath her back, causing needles and pins from lack of blood flow. So from that position — her entire body was a twisted little ball of muscle.

She leans forward to brush away the hair that flopped onto Kaleb's forehead before she leans even lower letting her breathe onto his face and kissing him over the freshly bandaged wound on his head.

He is still shirtless but the rest of his body was covered beneath the sheets this time. With his arms on either side of him. He looked peaceful.

There were trays on his bedside table full of fresh foods, in case he woke up with no one beside him. Cleo so longed for that to come. It has been nearly a week with no progress. The least she wanted was for him to wake up and be the same again. She wanted things to go back to normal the way it always was supposed to be.

Everything else in his room remained the same. Curtains were open baring the exquisite view outside, the weapons on the tables remained untouched and it even looked like it was catching dust; the only thing that changed was the gauze and food. It broke her heart to even step foot into his room at times.

As Cleo wipes away her unwanted tears she stands up slowly from his bed and wipes her wet hands onto her three-quarter emerald dress and gives Kaleb with his moving eyes beneath his lids one last look before taking her leave.

                                                       °°°

"Rosegold or orange?"

"Orange."

"How about a mixture of both?"

"No."

A sigh.  "You have more preparations this evening Miss. Practices for the rituals, and Gwen is ordered to perform a cleansing ritual on you, since Mabel took her leave too early. Would you mind sitting up Miss? Upside down makes it hard for me to read your face."

"No. I like it like this."

Cleo breathes out. She lay upside on the couch in her chambers, with her head falling touching the floor and her feet propped up on the back of the couch, and her calves resting on the seat. It made her feel calmer and more at ease. She was already considering doing this at meetings. Also the rush it gave her was satisfying.

Another sigh. "And the tapestries? Would you like them to be orange as well? Or a new shade of coral?"

She rolls her eyes. "I thought you get plenty different colours of coral."

She looks upside down to the blonde woman with the piercing gray eyes. Her name was Penelope. Well is. Cleo felt solace that she at least remembered the slender woman's name. Penelope was some sort of designer if Cleo wasn't mistaken— and she was about to call her out for making a beaded throw over in her palanquin, but she thought rather not to. She didn't want the woman to rip her tapestries in half for calling her designing atrocious.

Penelope is young too. She must have been a few years older than herself. She wore a teal dress with so many folds and jewels it looked so similar to the tarpaulin that Mabel made them wear. She had a slender built body with smooth light hair and long long legs, that went on for ages. The dress hugged her waist so perfectly it looked too good to be true. But; Cleo thought that she had ugly toes. It destroyed the sight totally even in her stupendous white sandals.

Penelope with her wide eyes seizes Cleo's half sitting and laying figure before patting her tight chignon at the back of her head and responding in a more sensible tone than her snappy one at first. "Yes indeed, but the most common shade would be peach or cream. Orange is too basic and monotonous."

Cleo scratches her thighs over her green dress at her shins. The front of it was crisscrossed, it took her a good hour to get them closed for even such a small section around her breasts. "So what shade is this exactly?"

"Peach. We can of course change it to more orange if you'd like or rosegold."

Cleo looks away from her and to her ceiling above. She was exhausted. As usual. Her interaction with the mage the last time could not of gone any better. She's been cautious lately around her courtesan's especially, she's been to meetings as per usual but she's been on the look out for anyone who may be involved with him. By the current looks of it, there has been nothing new. Nobody looked to be holding any secret or misdoings in her Court.

She didn't trust the man one bit.

Further more, as usual, Landon tried talking sense into her about going to her suicide like he calls it, but she simply ignored him and even flipped him off before throwing her soft egg onto the door, but he unfortunately closed it before it could impact his face. The rest of the Court like today was already starting her preparations for her crowning happening in a few days. The garden and the last of the paramount foods was being prepped for the evening.

And Cleo didn't even begin to prep herself. She didn't trim her hair resting past her bottom already. The only thing she was preparing herself for, was her death.

"What did you say was happening again? Tonight?"

Third sigh. "This evening Miss, you have a few of the preparations needed to be done before your crowning as it is correct protocol-"

"There will be cake?"

"I am not quite certain what the evening has to offer-"

"Will you find out?"

"I shall try my best-"

"You know what Penelope?"

"Yes?"

"I hate orange. You are right. It is too basic. But I don't like coral either. Would black be appropriate or maybe even a dark purple?"

She looks down at Cleo like she has grown a second face. "We usually go according to the Elemental colour Miss."

"So? Who uses dark?"

"No one yet. It's considered an-"

"Evil colour? There are worse things than black Penelope."

Cleo clicks her fingers and immediately a transparent orange-tinged flame sparks at her fingertips. She assesses both short clipped nailed hands, turning them over looking at why the hell she had to look like a damn sun on her ceremony.

She let's her flames out after glancing over at Penelope who seemed further away from her, staring at her hands with awe and an open-mouth.

Cleo fake gasps and shows off her hands to Penelope. "Well would you look at that? It's black!"

Penelope's earlier concerned face turns into a deadpan look. "That is remnants of soot."

"Exactly. So do whatever coral thing you have going but don't forget to add ebony to it. Can't forget about the soot now can we Penelope?"

Penelope wraps her arms in the folds of her dress and bows down low. Cleo didn't miss the sigh she had to offer. "Yes Miss. I shall see you at the ballroom where the rest of the preparations are being made."

Cleo said nothing, and immediately after Penelope left; Cleo got up. She first stilled her dizzying head by holding her hands on either side of her head and when the stars finally disappeared she made her way to the balcony.

Her room was partially riveted and fixed. Her balcony however still lacked a few missing pieces. She looks over to the guards below in the gardens. As she suspected, there were more on guard than before, she ordered it so so why was she upset? There were at least four at the gate, and others scattered through out the gardens in their uniforms and their swords within easy reach. If she wanted to leave then she would have to gather a distraction first before she could escape and make her way to go; but then with that distraction they would call for her, and she'd have to sort it out. The problem she caused first.

She rolls her eyes and makes her way to her bed to her cloaked clothing calling her name, she tugs the sheet she covered it with away. She could always lock her door, and they would get the picture that she didn't want to be disturbed. She shrugs. To hell with it. She was going to leave.

Just as she bent down to tug up her dress did she hear a knock on her door. It was softer and literally three bangs.

She swears under her breathe as she let's her dress drop down before making her way over to the door.

"What?" She exclaims as she looks the skinny maid up and down.

The dark haired and brown eyed little lamb takes a step back and raises her shoulders before dropping her gaze to the floor. "You are needed in the ballroom Miss."

Cleo rolls her eyes already thinking about who was going to be there and whether she had to change her clothes for it.

                                                            °°°
     

So...

She was impressed. Quite impressed. Her ballroom withheld the most precise glittering baubles with fancy embellishments on them, all over. The ceiling remained the same but she still saw some gold dust flaking around on the diamonds.

But the servants were already up on ladders hanging up tapestries and flowers and lanterns and all that accouterments she wouldn't even notice on her actual ceremony day. Then there was more servants on the floors— measuring, cutting cloth, florists being all about in the arrays of flower baskets. Cleo was even more impressed when she caught a peek of a dark flower in one of the baskets in the middle of the ballroom on a table resorted for only the flowers; where the floors around were for the cloth and the rest on the sides were for setting and hanging up the designs made.

So the ballroom was packed and busy like hell in summary.

She looks and lifts her foot seeing some remnants of gold on her barefeet, instantly bringing back bad and repulsing memories of that evening. Oh and the naked maids. Thank goodness there was smoke, she didn't want to know whose nudity belonged to whom.

The floor-to-ceiling windows on both sides were bare letting in the fresh air and allowing everything alight inside. It bathed the room into existence, where Cleo once thought was dead. Now there were plenty things to see, many colours, people, the vibrancy. It was a lot. Too much to see.

Over the steady thrum of everyone's voices, only a few bowed down and greeted her, a few went dead silent and others remained ignorant to her presence, but in her opinion she appreciated those more.

She walks to the middle towards the flower table not smiling or greeting her people around her until someone stepped into her path.

It was the same maid that summoned her from her chambers. On each arm she bared fabric, one with a lighter colour and one with a darker colour. "Oh... This was asked of you, which tablecloth would you like to use?"

Cleo already bored out of her mind, spots Landon with a paper and clipboard in his hands, visiting nearly each person in the ballroom, to probably check on them and the furnishings; before she draws her attention back to the maid.

She sees the girl sending her an awkward smile with one eye narrower than the other and a slightly big grin. Cleo feels sorry for the girl and for how she reacted to her so she does the most right thing.

"You choose. You're part of my Court too."

She gives the dumbstruck servant a wink before swayingly making her way over to Landon.

Landon was busy writing something on the clipboard before looking up at a guard setting up a drape on the high windows and then narrows his eyes— especially the one at the monocle, before finally writing something down again.

"Landon?" She calls. He instantly turns her way and she immediately catches sight of his weakened eyes and those blue lips.

He sends a toothless smile her way and bows down which she totally ignored, because it wasted too much of her damn time to wait for them to rise and then to greet her again.

"Miss. You are finally here, I have sent approximately seven servants to get you, it seems that the seventh is the charm. The other six simply vanished into thin air."

He chuckles, and in it Cleo can detect a hint of nervousness and hysteria.

She doesn't grin back but folds her arms beneath her breasts."What is it you need? It seems that everything is under control here. Because Landon, I'm getting extremely bored with our conversations."

He nods quickly and tugs at his goatee. "Very understandable. But we simply don't know your taste, there are days you don't wear shoes and there are others where you do. We don't want you to be disappointed on your ceremony. So your wish is our command."

Cleo doesn't even bother telling him that the only days she wears shoes is when she goes to the Village."I don't care Landon. Really just choose whatever is nice. Just not pink."

He nods again and looks down to his clipboard again. "And the invitations sent out-"

"Why do we need to send out invitations to people who are already here in Court?" She tilts her head.

"Not everyone is coming as we do have limited resources last we checked our stocks; and also most of these invitations are for the kin of the courtesans."

"Oh."

Landon swallows before continuing. "But as per your orders, you have invited Lord Crawford, and he will be coming with a companion, did he perhaps mention who it is?"

Cleo looks up to the guard hanging on the top window pane for dear life, as he lost his footing on the ladder, he was calling out but Cleo looked away before he could meet her eyes.

She was way too bored to be helping him.

"No. But like I told you, he insisted for his payment to help us. So I really don't care who he brings."

Cleo seems him frowning and writing down a huge question mark next to his name.

"Landon?"

His eyes lifts up from the board immediately so he looked at her over his monocle. He raises a brow when she kept silent.

The guard above couldn't get any help above. It was too noisy in the room, and everyone was too busy to notice that he could possibly fall to his death from the top of the high window.

"Do you know anyone who may be good friends with the mage? Or just know him in general?"

"Not that I can think of. But from what I heard from others, he may get troubling."

Cleo only nods. "Well you really don't seem to need me. If anyone does, pick whatever. And for goodness sake get that guard down before he pisses himself in embarrassment."

Landon turned around immediately and gasped before rushing to get the ladder beneath his feet.

He finally got his footing and that's when Cleo noticed that familiar scar running beneath his right eye over his cheek.

With his feet on the top of the ladder he looked over to her. His dark eyes said nothing, they remained their usual look. Dead.

He slowly got down the ladder but Cleo didn't wait for him. She turned around and walked out of ballroom, passing too many maids asking her questions which she ignored.

She made it through the double doors exiting the ballroom, and standing right in the middle of the corridor with the one end leading to the foyer, and the other leading to another set of double doors to the outside gardens.

She looks over her shoulder, seeing him glance at her suggestively. She only lifts her chin and makes her way outside.

There were guards outside, a few patrolling the pathways, around the waterfalls in the middle of the gardens and then another bunch in the secluded garden around the gazebo with a bench in the middle of it.

She bid them away with a simple nod of her head and they bowed in return and left, she took that as her cue to stand right before the gazebo.

She turned around and took in her surroundings. It is rich, succulent, green. She closes her eyes and takes in a deep breathe of the fresh trees shadowing her against the hot sun before looking to the plants and flowers freshly trimmed and decorated throughout the broad garden range on either side of the neat white stone pathway.

Beneath the clear blue sky and thriving sun, the pathway led to more trees and plants to her right, ranging with all the colours to a few birdbaths and small ponds and even more waterfalls. And to the left, the pathway will lead to the front of the Court to the stairs and all that circular driveway place she so rarely saw.

But with her ceremony coming up, she'll probably see it for a majority of her time. That's only if she decided to welcome the invitees.

"The hell happened to your neck?"

Cleo jerks in surprise and holds her hand to her racing chest.

She turns around to see Ezra in the normal guard uniform standing right in the center of the gazebo. How the hell did she not hear him? And how did he pass her if she faced the pathway the entire time? She could not of been so engrossed in the garden.

That was when she realized that Ezra had been completely faking his fall, no way would he get himself into such a situation, but if he did— he would of fallen to his death if something in his plan went wrong. Shame. But it was a distraction, to get her attention. If she had left, this would of been the exact situation that Landon would call her down for.

She drops her hand to her neck, feeling the long scab that ran in its place. "I would like to know what the hell you're doing in my Court."

His powerful jaw clenches hard. She feels a sharp pain in her chest as she remembers Kaleb doing that too. It looked so similar. It reminded her too much of him.

His lengthy hair was tied up in a bun at the base of his neck behind him, this time reminding her of Jezio, and the uniform which consisted of a shirt and breeches with the sword hanging from his waist atop the blue rope; hugged his muscled body in ways she couldn't imagine.

His eyes as usual looked like ice, and his scar last she saw stood out more prominent than before. She also didn't know why she wasn't surprised or fretting over his presence here.

"You pissed on my tower." He seethes through closed teeth.

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "I thought maybe some water would help you get through the passing of your wife."

His hands are in fists and in a matter of seconds with exactly two steps his towering figure emanating ire was above hers.

She only tilts her head to the side and looks up at him innocently. "They'll have your balls if they find you here. It's only a matter of time before a few guards find us and realizes that you don't belong here. So don't even try and touch me with your sausage fingers."

His lips are in a thin line and he looked so frustrated she couldn't tell whether he was trying to hold it in or whether he was trying to refrain himself from killing her.

"We need to talk. Now. Where is some place quiet?"

She takes a step away from him. Not because she was intimidated by him, but because his body heat was scorching her more.

"First tell me how the hell you got here."