She didn't like what was happening to her at all. She didn't even bother holding her cries in whenever a needle probed her skin, or whether there was too much glitter in her face; she wanted the servants and especially Penelope, to know exactly how she felt about this.

Her dress was... Nice. She didn't particularly like it, nor did she hate it. But it surely didn't satisfy and wow her to the fullest extent; so she at least kept that information from Penelope.

It is made from lace and silk — the white lace being the pattern on the black silk as it clung to her body from her chest to her mid-thigh where it sprang apart like fresh flower petals and fell to her feet. Another mermaid style dress. Definitely not a favorite.

The neckline is a V, but since her breasts were small; there was barely any cleavage with this one. She tilts her head to the side looking at herself standing on the box through the body-length mirror in the fitting room, where most of the designs got done; before not finding her breast peek through from the side and she looked back up again.

They were fidgeting with the dress at her feet now, doing measurements and who knows Gods' what, with snipping and more probing.  She had to stay still for the pins to not penetrate her sides while they did this which she didn't appreciate, but did once they arrived to her feet.

At least Kaleb looked happy to see her. Well he is more interested in her marks. Since he saw them he never stopped. She pretended that he liked her body instead and wasn't in the least curious about her marks, but it got harder everyday with him barely meeting her eyes.

She made him sit on a lounge, she didn't want to be the cause of his next collapse since he was still weak. The room was hexagonal in shape, with floor-to-ceiling on four sides and a huge shelf full of various designer paraphernalia, that also took up the entire wall with the door. In between were mannequins and other tables with more design products. So on the lounge against one of the windows is where Kaleb sat.

She still didn't like how he looked. In his face.

He looks hollow, nearly as bad as herself. He still has his bandage on however, and his memory seems to be intact as well. She really liked the way he looked at her when she went to him after his awakening — as if she was the only woman in the world. But it passed once he saw her revealing marks.

Since then, things have been a little awkward. But at least he was healing, as was she. Her hands looked horrible however, horrid and atrocious scars and tissues that looked like wrinkled clothing. She knows she will never have beautiful hands again, it counted as a sacrifice for what she has done; so this is now the aftermath.

She looks back to herself away from Kaleb, to her strappy dress and hid her hands behind her to make the picture she saw in the mirror much more captivating.

She glances back to Kaleb, his eyes followed her hands knowing she feels ashamed of them when he looked back up, they locked eyes. He still looks a bit pale. But his eyes were bright and healthy. Those beautiful moss eyes.

He first broke their long glance to watch the servants pick at her again. This time she hisses and looks down after feeling a sewing needle prob her skin, making the earrings she wore click at her ears.

Oh right she forgot about that. They were long hanging diamonds with a few silver beads in between them. They glowed  extremely brightly, even catching rainbows in them when the sun shone into her eyes. She actually liked them it made her face look more attractive in her opinion. She especially liked them clicking. The first time she tried them, she didn't stop rocking her head back and forth to make them spin and click — she liked the sound of real diamonds clicking against steel.

She said no for a necklace. And for a bracelet. And also for shoes. Her feet would be covered anyway by the dress; but she might wear them for Landon's sake, but those chances remains low.

"Nearly done Miss." Utters one of the servants. The serious one Cleo called her. She hasn't stopped frowning since she saw Cleo in the dress.

Cleo gazes at her strappy dress again and was about to  ask when this was ending when someone knocked on the door.

Her guard opens the double doors and in comes Landon. Cleo was about to roll her eyes and jump out the window, because she didn't have time for him right now until-

"Darling, my minions and I heard you were still alive."

Ugh, the audacity...

Well, even now she is still considering jumping out the window and falling to her death below. Anything could be better than this.

He goes on before Landon could interrupt them. "I'm surprised you made it alive. Very very intriguing. I really doubted you, I lost all my hopes in you and look at you now, ..." He trails off before glimpsing down to her hands and then looking up again.

"Your hands are still beautiful as ever."

She locks them to her front out of his line of vision, before facing the mirror.

"Miss, Sir Crawford requests your presence." Landon pipes up even though Crawford already did his introductory phase to them.

"Oh please Landon, it's Lord. There is a huge difference." She could hear his disheartening chuckle down in her toes.

"You cannot just barge in here like you own the place Crawford-"

"Well you still let me in as soon as I was in your grounds."

She could practically hear Landon fuming. "You should still wait for Miss to allow you in as per her request only."

She sighs and rolls her eyes, feeling nausea rise in her chest. She could taste the acids in the back of her throat.

"It's fine Landon. Thank you. Leave us."

Almost immediately her servants dropped what they doing, bowed then made their way to the doors. She turns around to see Landon giving her a bewildered look behind his vaped up monocle. Well that couldn't be good.

She tilts her head to the side before sending him a small smile. He just shook his head slightly and gave  the ever-smirking Crawford a glum and disapproving look; before bowing down low and leaving slower than usual, like he was waiting for her to change her mind call him to stay put instead.

She sees Kaleb walking towards the door as well, a little slow and unsteady on his feet with his hand  pressed against his side. His hair looks darker and more tousled than usual, and in his leather breeches that hugged his figure so well and loose white shirt with his sword at his side — she is so thankful she made it out alive. She wouldn't miss this view for the world.

"You may stay Kaleb. I insist." He freezes and didn't move for a long time, but when he did, it seemed tedious and pained. He gave her a shocked look but obliged her before moving his big body back to the couch where he sat comfortably again.

She didn't take her eyes off him through the entire time until he was seated. Then she faces Crawford again waiting for him to talk.

"I thought you were dead." He smirks.

"The thought is mutual."

"You seem to be doing reasonbly well."

No I am sexually frustrated.

"Talk and get it over with. Seeing your face right now makes me want to gouge my eyes out." She had to be honest.

He chuckles and clicks his rings together in a certain tune. "I see you have doubled in marks, they are growing more than ever. Oh that's bad."

She gets off the box wanting to rip the dress off of her and get into something more comfortable; but there was nothing to get changed into other than this current dress. She couldn't care less whether Crawford and Kaleb saw her naked.

"Why is that a bad thing?"

She suddenly thinks of Ezra, and the promise she made to him to not speak to the mage again. Yet look at her now. She feels guilty for some very absurd reason, and it wasn't like her to care about feelings at all.

"Ah, I take it you did not read my letter yet. Where is it? Mixed with other piles of your unread letters?"

She leans down and pulls the pins out of her dress meant to keep her fitting of where to alter the dress. But they hurt her too much, so too bad. They will have to play: Guess Cleo's figure and size game when making the dress.

"I don't know what you are talking about. I never received a letter." Which was true. She doesn't remember seeing any on her sesk, nor seeing it being delivered to her room.

There is silence from him for a long time. She was actually afraid that he died on her. When she stands back up with a bunch of needles in her hand, he went pale.

Before she could even ask Crawford what the hell he was talking about; Kaleb was at her side. She got a little fright when he came close, she didn't even hear him.

He looks even more dazed and lost up front. It's all set in his features. His beautiful lips forms a thin line as he met her eyes. She remembers those lips on hers. How softly they dropped onto hers and the way he held her against the wall, grinding on her. It sent strange shivers down her spine until she had to visibly shake them off. Those memories... She so badly wanted a repeat of it. With him.

"Cleo. I think this is very private, I should perhaps take my leave." Aye. Those words sent her off. She forces herself to not cry out but instead to shake herself again and look up into his eyes.

"No I asked you to stay. So you may stay." It took everything in her to not correct it to must.

He nods and brushes his locks out of his eyes then meeting her green ones again. "I know. It just sounds too-"

"You are cursed."

They both froze. She didn't leave Kaleb's eyes. But he broke their gaze to look at the mage over her shoulder standing a few feet from them. She was about to focus on the close proximity she had with Kaleb— the heat from his body. His muscles and broad shoulders. Gods.

But this other idiot...

She flips over to face him, her own losing it's exhilarating look she received from just seeing Kaleb. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He comes forward. Narrowing his eyes as his boots clicked on the mosaic floor. "You. Are. Cursed."

Her hearts begin racing, she is forced to breathe through her mouth. Even her hands became more clammy and she it feels like this dress was compressing her lungs possibly ripping the stitches in her chest apart.

The mage sends her a cold look. She could sense Kaleb standing closer to her with his hand on the pommel of his sword.

Crawford rubs his fingers together and sends her a smirk. Looking every bit evil with his pale skin. "Those tattoos. Or should I call them runes. On your skin. Every curve, edge, colour of it. It's all a curse."

She had to urge to cover herself up. "I heard you the first time-"

"You're dying. You may not see it now, but your body is slowly losing its power, slowly becoming weaker and ans wearing off — soon you'll turn to dust. Just like you're supposed to."

The words not only made her feel light-headed, but also filled her with so much rage, she could feel her cheeks becoming hotter as the blood pumped into her face.

She didn't even realize that her hands were caught on flames. She could think of nothing else except for those words he told her. They swirled in her head, like koi fish in a pond.

"Cleo." That was Kaleb. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, she knows it was meant for her to let go of her flaming hands but how could she?

She meets the mages eyes. That's when she saw his hands swirling around with familiar black smoke that formed tendrils which flew around his hands, matching the intensity of her own. He had an odd look in his eye too, as if he could kill her on the spot right this moment.

"Leave." She seethes. Finally listening to Ezra.

"Don't ever step foot in her again."

He then smirks, lets go of his power and interlaces his fingers together. "You cannot do that. I have an invitation to your ceremony."

"Fuck that. If I see you again, I will kill you."

"In a fire bath?"

"I'll leave it as a surprise."

"I don't like surprises very much."

"You will like this one."

He raises both hands in surrender and bows down low after seeing that her flames grew.

"You are making a big mistake here, young Elemental. I am the only one who can help you. You'll regret this very moment in time."

She says nothing. She didn't know what to say. What the  hell he was talking about. Damn. All she wanted was peace, and that seemed like too much to ask for.

He made it to the door, but looks back one more time— that hideous smirk never leaving his face. "Let us hope you win."