The final piece to the ensemble of Faine's outfit was the leather satchel slung over her shoulder. She frowned down at the crumpled leather as it held nothing more than the dagger she found strapped to the underside of the dresser, a notepad, and an extra pair of wool socks. Olhathas was a mining city; the streets constantly covered in mud—rain or shine.

Trekking through the entire city in mud-stained socks and squelched boots would not play well if Faine wanted to finish this mission in three days. Which she did. There wasn't another alternative and Ilian, a possible threat to hold her back, needn't impede on what she planned to show. After every skill she learned over one hundred years; she decided to let herself off the tight leash for a few short hours.

Faine opened the door to her armoire and for the third time in a few short minutes, thumbed through the simple gowns and dresses provided by Silver Willow. In the end, Ilian had given the silver coins to a human servant who was more than happy to go on a shopping trip, even if it wasn't for herself. The fact that Faine didn't receive a single coin in return proved the servants were dumber than she thought, or they really had spent all her money on clothes.

She opted for a simple leather jacket over her white shirt and dark trousers stuffed into a pair of soft, shiny leather boots. The servant, whoever she was, must've had a sense of style for Faine was never fond of cheap clothes. Everything picked out, hand-selected, was of fine make and even the boots, reaching Faine's knees, were more functional than any other style. She wondered if the servant took an entire day searching through stores.

The hallway was empty, so she knocked on Ilian's door and hoped for the best. It wasn't until she heard a female voice on the inside, giggling, that Faine stopped herself from knocking a second time. Too unprepared, how had she been so foolish to not listen in the first place? Faine retracted and hoped the shrill laughter on the other side of the door had drowned out her attempted entry, but heels clicked along the floorboards a second later.

The floorboards creaked and when the door opened; the hinges whined. Faine had a hard time biting back her grin at the thoroughness that Ilian had called her out for mere hours ago. He wasn't foolish; he did the same when he arrived, too. Trust did not extend far in this line of work.

"Ginevra," Faine said with a smile when she came face to face with the fladline on the other side of the door. She was wearing a silk robe decorated with tulips and roses, folded together as small bouquets and dotted with meniscal crystal beads.

"There you are, Faine," Ginevra responded with a grin. Her fangs were short, not as dramatic as other immortal beasts, but it was the retractable claws in her hands that made all the difference. "Ilian was wondering when you'd arrive. He said you two have something to do today."

Faine furrowed her brows and stepped into the room, completely ignoring the clutter on the desk shoved in the corner and the unkempt sheets on the bed. "He didn't tell you? We have a mission together."

The sharp neckline of the silk robe dropped between Ginevra's breasts and revealed a lace-lined top underneath—also a deep drop from her shoulders. At least she wasn't walking around with the extent of her golden legs revealed, strutting to catch Ilian's attention. The robe covered that, at least.

Ginevra's honest smile faded. Whether she provided it to all the new members of Silver Willow or just those she believed were normal...it was too soon to tell. "You have a mission together?" she squeaked.

The door to Ilian's bathing room opened, and he was fastening his belt when Ginevra stared him down, whiskers twitching. Faine wasn't certain what she was doing in his room and why she had been so casual as to enter when the door opened. They hardly knew each other, but searching over every little detail to the life he'd created here was not yet in the cards. Not until Faine found a way into his deepest, darkest secrets.

"I meant to tell you earlier," Ilian said with an awkward laugh. "Since Faine is shadowing me, Celestia assigned us to be a team."

Team. There was a finalization in that word and the hidden meaning was that Ginevra wasn't involved. Faine watched the fladline digest that information with a grain of salt. The robe became ridiculous, the low-cut design being too noticeable in the awkward heat, and there was nowhere in the room that Ginevra could hide. Her intentions when she came in the first place might've been for something more than what Ilian was prepared to hand over, but it didn't matter. A mission was a mission.

Ginevra's training was just as in-depth as every other spy, thief, or assassin. Precisely the reason it was so easy for her to straighten her spine, fold her hands in front of her abdomen, and smile at the mortal man in the room. Fladlines were known for being particularly beautiful, even when they frowned, and if there was one piece of evidence to support that truth—Ginevra was it.

The poise she carried herself with was sharp like glass but indestructible in comparison. Her cat eyes didn't reveal hurt, only a hardening for what was to come next. Faine was impeding on their relationship, their alliance, their attachment to one another and Ginevra was not all right with it. In fact, she was pissed.

"Are you prepared for everything?" Ginevra asked. Not what Faine had expected her to say.

"Of course, I have everything under control. No worries here." Ilian lifted his satchel for emphasis and waved the leather-bound folder in her direction. The scabbard at his belt held a sword and the opposite holsters were for daggers, knives, and other small weapons alike. Not poison like Faine was used to carrying, but more direct approaches.

Before this was over, she'd have to teach Ilian a thing or two about complete preparations and back-up plans. The poison wasn't just for enemies, but if a member of a crime guild found themselves captured with no way of escape. Hand over the information, receive a beating or die. Either way, each led to death.

"Good. Watch your back at all times and don't go somewhere you don't belong. Olhathas is dangerous, they don't hold back against the mortals," Ginevra warned.

Ilian rolled his eyes dramatically. He had reached the final straw. "I know, Ginevra. I promise Faine and I will protect each other. You don't have to be so nervous."

Her golden eyes dropped to the floor. Faine simply stood there, watching their exchange for her benefit rather than to comment on it later. Yet she was intruding on their personal lives and if they were in the middle of something when she knocked...Could that possibly be why Ilian disappeared into the bathing room and why Ginevra was gleefully giggling? The options flowing around in Faine's head made it hard to think.

Ginevra turned on her heel and opened the door that looked out to the hallway. "Let me know when you're back. I don't wish to wait up all night and worry."

She flashed a warning look in Faine's direction, a warning that if she didn't protect Ilian, the fladline had plans to rip out her throat with those retractable claws. It happened so quickly that neither of the two still standing in the room had the chance to say anything, for Ginevra was already gone and walking down the hall by the time they'd gathered their thoughts.

As Ilian shrugged on his coat and buttoned it, Faine pursed her lips together and raised her brows. "She seems pissed," she whispered.

"That's nothing," Ilian said quickly to defend his best friend, or lover, or whatever they were. "She only wishes for me to be safe. This is the first time we haven't gone on a mission together. Once you get in a routine, it's hard to break that."

Every mission with Kaspar was the same way. Faine thought of his smile and the jokes he made that he knew only she would find funny. That's why he shared them. A mission with anyone else than each other left an empty hole in her mind and Faine couldn't pick up the pieces until she arrived back at the base and discovered that missing piece was him all along. She wanted to see him, wanted to talk to him and hold him, wanted to be in the presence of someone that loved her without conditions.

Alas, she was here. And the man standing in front of her wasn't Kaspar. He was a mortal man with more layers than any immortal could construct.

"Buy her something pretty," Faine instructed. "Or just do whatever it took to make her giggle before I walked in here." Her smile was sinister, and Ilian caught on immediately.

As flat as his tone could go without him not speaking entirely, he said, "What, make a joke? Ginevra laughs at everything; we weren't doing anything before you walked in here. I told you, we're not involved that way."

Over the years, enough people in Rising Eternity had fallen in love around her. They got married, paid off their debts, and never showed their faces again. Some fled and were tracked down, either by Zebulon or one of the most skilled trackers in the base. It was always a shame to hear the reports of how they died fighting for each other, and those final seconds of heartbreak.

Love was blossoming in front of Faine, and it would take her help for them to realize it. "Ginevra didn't come in a low-cut robe for you to crack jokes," she hissed, narrowing her eyes at him. "She came for something more than that, dumb mortal."

Ilian gaped when he opened the door for her, and once they were walking through the halls, came back with, "She dresses like that all the time. So what, she's confident in her looks. I find that attractive, to be honest."

"All sane men do, you're not special. It's when a woman acts on her desires that we're looked down upon." Faine snarled at him, even if he wasn't the target of her rage. Every man was on the receiving end of it or a woman that believed her shit didn't stink.

They passed Eliphas in the hall and received a warning glare not to approach or converse. Faine made that decision as soon as she saw him round the corner, his arms tensed at his sides and his hands closed into fists. When they passed, and he was behind her, Faine's spine straightened on impact and every muscle in her body tightened. An attack from behind wouldn't come, but being prepared for it was the first attempt to avoid one.

Rising Eternity had similar beasts of strength and poise. They believed they were better than everyone else and when rage made their decisions for them; it was clear why they were not. One, in particular, Jatloxl Brice, came to mind when Faine thought of all the killings the crime base took part in. They weren't heavy on assassins, but the immortal gadigator always stepped up to the task.

Nightmares plagued Faine's sleep, and almost always filled with him. Whether he chased her through the halls, jaws snapping and fangs flashing, or studying her from across the room, the thought of him never failed to rile her into watching her surroundings. Eliphas was another form of what she needed to prepare for.

Faine breathed a sigh of relief when she descended the pooling staircase on the first floor of the base and watched the portcullis rise through the open doors. She squinted at the sunlight streaming in and her eyes burned as if she hadn't seen such a beautiful sight in weeks, possibly months. The fresh air swarming with the scent of pine trees surrounding the dark residence was prompt to sweep in and wrap around both Faine and Ilian when they stepped out onto the dirt trail leading out of Silver Willow's territory.

"We may be back by nightfall," Ilian informed the guard. When Faine cleared her throat, the mortal turned to raise his brows at her. They hadn't known each other for long, but silent conversations were easy to develop when the other knew what they were missing. Ilian sighed. "Or we may be back in three days. If anything is amiss, I'll send a report back with a messenger."

The guard nodded and stepped back to his post—safeguarding the portcullis. "We're not coming back tonight," Faine said when Ilian broke away. She felt herself leading him down the trail, leaning in close so no one else could hear their conversation. No one from the towers and no one from the base watching them leave. "We're completing this mission in three days, no more and no less. Trust me, it'll take that amount of time."

"You're very confident for someone that is only beginning. How are you certain your plan isn't going to backfire?" Ilian broke away from her like the close contact was too much for him to bear. He didn't want to upset Ginevra with knowing he was moving on from their one-sided relationship he was too foolish to act on.

"I'm very thorough, Ilian." She kicked a pebble, and it bounced down the dirt trail before landing in a tuft of grass along the side. "I know what needs to be done, how long it takes to accomplish, and exactly what I plan on doing."

He snorted. "Care to share that information with me? We might complete this mission faster if I know what you're thinking."

"Tell you what, buy me a tankard of ale at the first pub we come across. I'm in the mood for a drink and a meal. Since I spent all my money on clothes, I can't exactly afford the luxuries of food."

They broke out onto the main road leading through Pinedon and the sign across the way, nestled within weeds, brush, and rose bushes covered in thorns, read which direction led to each city in the land. Olhathas was north-east, Isflean was south, and Fanorre was west. The only city Faine wanted to go to was Isflean, as she had a chance to see a familiar face.

"You gave me what you gave me. It's only natural you received nothing in return," Ilian griped.

"The servants of Silver Willow don't hold back, otherwise, I'd receive change. They're bold, but I suppose they must be where they work. It's not every day they receive the chance to spend money on luxurious clothes." Faine tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked to Ilian. It struck her how handsome he was, the sharp lines of his cheekbones and the glow of his eyes in the afternoon sunlight. She forced herself to look away. "You must thank the servant for going through the effort of picking my wardrobe."

His handsomeness evolved when he grinned. "I didn't have a servant pick those clothes. I went out late last night, into Olhathas, and purchased your wardrobe. It's unnatural for us to send a perfectly good servant to face capture by sinwolves."

"That's impossible." Faine couldn't find the words. She expected a servant to be the one that went through the intricate process of picking her clothes, but it wasn't. The last person she expected to have gone through that process was Ilian. "No one in their right mind is willing to do that."

The corner of Ilian's mouth tugged up in a smirk. "You are my shadow, for now. It's only fair I provide you with something of value," he said.

Not even Kaspar, on his brightest day, enjoyed shopping with her. There were occasions that Faine found time to shop with Nalea, but that was only when neither of them was going through the complicated task of solving a job. Winters, when business slowed down and snow blanketed Pinedon, was their free time to spend on their own choosing.

Faine stumbled over her tongue, suddenly thick. "I appreciate your generosity," she muttered. "I've never had someone go through such efforts as you have."

"Your past was not fair to you. I am only providing what you deserved."

There weren't many people in the world that could make her cheeks heat. She'd long since forgotten what true affection felt like, but that wasn't what she was sensing with Ilian. Instead, it was the rising heat of guilt and shame that made her skin blush. Everything he thought he knew was a lie and Faine had to bite her tongue to keep from spilling the truth to a mortal that wished the best for her.

It was rare to see such attention from anyone. Ilian had already shown more care than what Zebulon showed in ninety-nine years. Any affection she received from him was quickly backed up by how much she should appreciate his gratitude.

The journey to Olhathas wasn't long. On foot, half a day at most. Faine didn't know what she could possibly say in that span of time that didn't involve the truth Ilian had just shared with her. But a merchant wagon quickly remedied it by asking if they needed a ride into Olhathas for nothing more than three copper coins.

Sitting at the back while Ilian rode up front, Faine was more than pleased to face a moment alone to mull over what had happened. Ilian bought her clothes, not the servant. Why was this distracting her so? Why couldn't she come to terms with the fact that someone, a random mortal, was generous?

It took hours to figure out, but as Faine chewed on a chunk of a crisp apple, she came to terms with what clung to her mind like sticky molasses. No one had treated her so kindly since Carlton. Her stomach tightened with sickness, and when she couldn't take another bite of her apple, Faine tossed it out the back and left it for a lucky horse or loose cow. They would enjoy it more than she was, anyway.