"You lied." Castor leaned against the Trusoe home, watching Altair. "Samson wasn't talking to the guards in the dungeon hallway."

Altair didn't flinch, his hands clasped in front of him as he tilted his head and listened to the room up above. "If I had lied, Phoenix would have known."

Castor rolled his eyes. "You led her to her own conclusions, which were false. Samson was where he belonged – not talking to guards in a dungeon hallway." When Altair said nothing, Castor pressed. "Why did you say Samson's name?"

Altair chewed on the inside of his cheek, not meeting Castor's gaze. "I have a temper."

"I'm aware. Why are you angry with Samson? What aren't you telling me about Phoenix?" Castor pushed off the wall, standing right in front of Altair, looking him right in the eye.

"She's not your concern."

"Like hells she's not – especially when you're bringing Samson into it. Samson and Eric are as close as Eric gets to anyone. Anything concerning him concerns me."

"Samson kissed Phoenix," Altair said, jaw clenched. "And something happened."

"What? What happened? What do you mean?"

"He hurt her."

Castor took a step back, eyes wide. "S-samson hurt Phoenix. How? He's – he can't do that."

"Apparently he can. He kissed her and she felt a sudden, sharp, horrible pain."

With a grimace, Castor shook his head. "That's a bad kiss..."

"She needs to stay away from Samson. It didn't go away. The pain continues."

"Like in the dungeon," Castor nodded, his mind racing with an array of thoughts. "That's why you were angry." He frowned. "Are we sure this was because of Samson and not because she was kissed?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, has she ever kissed anyone before? Are we sure it wasn't something to do with her...unique makeup? She's not like other girls. I'd be wary of blaming Samson when another man could cause-"

Altair jabbed a finger into Castor's chest. "Samson can't go near her again. He's dangerous to her."

"I would have to agree," Castor said, pursing his lips. "But have you considered what keeping him away will do?"

"Do?"

"Driving her away from Samson could force her into someone else's arms."

Altair's dry look of disgust forced Castor to bite back a smirk. "Do you mean yours? That's quite an ego you have there, Castor."

"I would prefer them to be mine, but no. I meant in general. She has feelings for Samson. They could fade with time, but someone else will eventually step in to fill the void."

"What is it with you and her? What could possibly be so alluring?"

"I'm surprised you don't see it," Castor retorted.

Altair sneered. "I've been watching over her since she was an infant. She's practically my own."

"And I didn't see her until her life intersected with Eric's –  of an age not far from my own."

"It doesn't matter. She can't be distracted. There's too much to consider." Altair gestured to the balcony above them. "What's going on in there is far more important than anything going on out here."

"Until the worlds collide," Castor countered. "Which I think is just about to happen."

#

On the third night of Maverick's comatose, Noelle sat watch, waiting for Canya to return. She tried to keep her eyes open, but fatigue claimed her. She curled up in the chair next to Maverick's bed, resting her head on the arm, and drifted off to sleep.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, she was aware of someone lifting her into the air. Though she tried to open her eyes, she couldn't. It felt so easy, like being a child again, carried to bed by her father after he found her hiding somewhere out of Aundreya's reach.

A soft bed rose up beneath her, enveloping her in warmth and comfort. Noelle accepted the gift, snuggling into the pillow and drifting back to sleep.

She woke with a start, sitting upright, confused. The room wasn't her own, and she glanced down to see someone else in the bed with her. Yelping, she scampered backward, running into a body behind her.

"Woah, calm down. It's barely been an hour."

Noelle looked up and saw the body she'd slammed against was Maverick, upright and awake, grinning down at her.

"You were asleep on the chair when I woke up, so I put you in my place while I bathed." He glanced up at the other side of the bed. "Do you want to explain to me why I woke up next to a woman I barely know?"

Heartbeat normalizing, Noelle looked back and realized it was Gwen, still unconscious in the bed, that she'd woken next to.

"You were poisoned. Both of you. We didn't know if she did it to you or not, but Roman thought it'd be best if we kept an eye on both of you." She blushed. "I guess we didn't think about what it'd be like to wake up."

Maverick squinted at Gwen. "We were poisoned?" Noelle nodded. "The last thing I remember is my conversation with you. Then she walked in and..." he trailed off. "I can't remember anything else."

"How do you feel?"

"A bit weak. I was surprised how groggy I felt upon waking – not to mention a bit confused to find not one, but two women asleep in my room."

"I'm sorry. I –" Noelle gaped at him, realizing he wasn't wearing a shirt. Words failed her as she looked him up and down, standing in just a pair of trousers, his auburn hair damp from a bath. "Uh..."

"So we were poisoned and you are the only one who stayed with us?"

Noelle shook her head like a dog ridding water from its ears, focusing anywhere but on him. "We've been taking turns. Roman has been doing most of your meetings in your absence."

"In my – how long have I been out!" Maverick's voice squeaked as he gripped her by her shoulders.

"Three days."

"Three days?" Maverick let go, bringing one hand to his forehead, eyes wide as though in a daze. "Three days."

"You were poisoned."

"And you don't know who poisoned me?"

"We didn't tell anyone about what happened. Only Youlden, Roman, Finny, Pollemius and Helena know about it. Roman's been going to your meetings and Youlden has been with him."

Maverick shook his head. "Some king-to-be. I can't believe I was poisoned." His gaze slid out of focus. "The juice. It tasted funny."

"It was your drink, yes."

"We were talking about being king, Gwen and I." He blinked. "We don't know who poisoned the juice?"

"We wanted to know if you or Gwen knew, but she's not awake yet." Noelle glanced back at her. "Maybe your strength got you through it sooner."

"She was talking about another family ruling – that I didn't have to take the throne."

"Do you think she was hoping you couldn't take the throne?"

Maverick didn't answer, a strange look in his eyes. "How long have you been sitting with us?" 

"Uh," Noelle shifted. "I really haven't left much - except when they made me." 

Maverick reached out, brushing his fingers against her cheek. "I'm glad it was you I saw when I woke up." Noelle's stomach flipped, and she swallowed hard. Maverick dropped his hand. "Is Phoenix back?"

"No. But she trusted Gwen. Do you think she was right?"

"I don't know. You said you were the only ones who knew what happened to us?"

"Yes, well, I guess Canya, too."

"Canya?"

"Mygel's mom? The banshee lady. She came to me." Noelle shivered, remembering the woman there – a night or two before – with her cryptic message. Tic tock.

"What do you mean she came to you? She's in the dungeons."

Noelle explained the interaction, and Maverick's gaze narrowed.

"I think it's time we paid Canya a visit."

#

Roman fumed, storming down the halls. "Have you seen Youlden?" he asked a passerby, who shrugged. "Where does he keep disappearing to?"

"He's not much for war, you know." Finny appeared out of nowhere, one brow quirked. "I doubt he's interested in these battle strategy meetings."

"So he makes me go to them alone?" He shook his head. "If I have to suffer through them, he has to."

Finny smirked, placing one hand on her hip. "Not for you, then?"

"I don't know how Maverick has been doing this for so long. It's miserable. All they do is talk at you. If I dare offer an opinion, they jump down my throat."

"Now you know why Maverick has been under so much strain."

"He's stronger than his gift if he can deal with them." Roman rubbed his temples. "Finny, I have a question. Do you think –"

"Roman! There you are." Helena fluttered down the hall, and not for the first time Roman wondered if her gift was grace. For an older woman, Helena moved with ease, as though floating through life – even when flustered.

Finny arched a brow. "Problem, Helena?"

"If we're going to mobilize the entire Militia into a battle against Bainon's Army, we need to make sure we're ready. You need to be at the meetings."

"Why?" Roman crossed his arms, pursing his lips. "I'm not the one who is going to be king. I don't need to be helping with these decisions. Maverick will be awake soon. They can wait for him."

"Roman." Helena placed a hand on his shoulder. "We can't be sure he'll wake up. Without him, we need a leader. You can be that leader." Roman opened his mouth to argue and Helena put up a hand. "And if he does wake up, then you'll be in a position to help him. I'm doing this for your future. You'll be an indispensable right hand to the king – maybe more."

"I don't care about that. Maverick doesn't need me. If he wants me at his side I'll be there, but I'm not trying to climb any ladders."

"Let me help you." Helena gave his shoulder a little squeeze. "For your mother's sake. I owe it to her. She wanted great things for you. I can help you get that."

Youlden appeared from around the corner, eyes wide. "He's awake! Mav's awake!"

Roman stepped away from Helena. "Looks like you won't need me after all." 

See? Maverick's awake!!! He's okay!!! But Gwen isn't...will she wake up? We'll have to wait and see. 

PLUS we need to go see Canya. AND Castor knows about Samson hurting Phoenix. 

Tell me what you think about ALLLLLL these developments. Because they may be bigger than you realize ;) 

I promise we'll get back to Phoenix/Ares/Abigail eventually...but Canya has some interesting things to say, so we may see her first. Depends on the muse ;)