Her life had started with Zebulon's influence. It appeared as though he'd be on the other end of the deal, too. Faine reached back and pulled Ilian behind her as Zebulon approached, his steps unhurried and his eyes as bored as if he was simply walking down the street without a thought in his head. The seennouk was so difficult to read, always had been, and he used every tool in that expressionless face to his advantage.

"Ah, Faine," he purred. The entire hall of the palace shivered against his presence. The world watched the inevitable truth of what was about to happen, someone was about to die. And it was chance that Ilian died first, but truth that it'd be her. After that—she could do nothing to protect the mortal standing against her back, aiming to shoot at the approaching beast. No use. Zebulon could catch any bolt out of the air. "If my suspicions are correct, you've switched sides. What a pity." He made a show of looking her down. "Though I can't say I'm surprised, you've always been soft."

"Zebulon, you don't have to this," Faine lamented. She took one step back, therein by pushing Ilian away. The farther they were apart, the safer they were. But he continued to approach them, the talons on the tip of his wings scratching and gripping onto the marble tiles as if trying to rip one out and chuck it at her. "I can pay off my debts, right here, right now. We don't have to worry about the next two months."

He huffed a laugh and raked a clawed hand through his slick-backed hair. "Do you believe me to be so weak as to allow you freedom? After all, no one else has ever received such an honor."

The talon on his wing screamed against the marble and Faine jumped back, taking Ilian with her. Every step was increasingly difficult and the other end of the wall became closer with their attempt to flee but to say that Faine felt trapped was an understatement. Where were her friends when she needed them? When would the day come that something went in her favor? That hadn't happened in ninety-nine years. Nearly one-hundred.

"I suppose this is my fault, in a way," Zebulon said in his calmest tone. "I gave you everything. A home, a salary, lovers to warm your bed, and trainers to gift you skill. You were nothing before you came to me; a foolish lover, and by giving you this freedom—a mission away from home—you snapped the leash." His beak clicked in disappointment.

That simple sound caused Faine to flinch. After so many years of hearing it leave the orifice that was his mouth, she knew what was coming next. It was never anything good. Punishment came shortly after, as did a warning and a promise that if she messed up again, the consequences would become fatal. But they never did. This time, Zebulon wasn't planning on holding back. She saw the fire scolding in his eyes, brightening with every step she took.

He was more pissed than she'd ever seen. That alone was a feat for the decades.

As if he hardly noticed him before, Zebulon's stare darted to Ilian over Faine's shoulder. She wasn't tall enough to protect his head, but armor made of her flesh concealed his vital organs. Any other weapons—she could knock out of the air before they broke through his thin, weak skin. Faine extended her arms wide out at her sides and continued to push him back. At least he wasn't fighting this; the stench of fear filling her nose was suffocating her senses for even Ilian understood the inevitable.

Zebulon cocked his head to the side, unnaturally far. His feathers ruffled. "And for a mortal, no less. I never thought you'd stoop so low as to allow yourself to be trapped by a man that'll never live longer than you wish." He laughed darkly under his breath. "If you ask me, he's already dead."

"Zebulon, I will give you anything if you leave this between me and you. Do not involve him."

"Him?" He arched a red brow. "Is this your continual effort to leave his identity elusive? I received no information on a mortal in your report, yet I trusted you to give me everything you knew about Silver Willow. From the start, you went against me, and I have yet to see thanks for all I've done."

Faine shook her head wildly as tears burned her eyes. "You killed the love of my life after I promised one-hundred years of my life to you. I've made the most of it, but every fraction of pain I've experienced is directly related to you," she croaked. She sighed, taking the cleanest deep breath she had in too long. "No longer."

"And what?" Zebulon splayed his arms wide at his sides and, as an involuntary response, his wings spread, too. Now she couldn't see down the hall, couldn't tell if anyone was coming for them. Whether friend or foe. "You'll run away and live your life with a mortal? I've taught you better than that, Faine." He softened his stare, like a father realizing his forbidden love for a rogue daughter.

Then, he looked to Ilian. "Do you know all she's done? The men she seduced to gain information they wouldn't otherwise give, leading them to believe she cared in the same, fake way she put you in a trance. The things she stole for me and handed over proudly when they never once belonged to her. The innocent lives, mortals included, that she took without a second glance."

Zebulon was wrong. He didn't know a thing about Ilian and was merely fishing for ways to separate them. Ilian was smarter than that, he watched Faine go through the simple act of seducing a feliram at a tavern, stole things himself just to survive, and on his own account, killed when there was no other option. That was why Faine never told Zebulon about the mortal working for Silver Willow.

Not just to give him protection that every mortal needed, but to leave Zebulon out of the loop of certain strengths and weaknesses. Ilian already knew everything there was to understand about Faine, and his statement, in hopes of swallowing the mortal whole, did nothing. Those words barely scratched the surface to what Faine did over these years, but if anything, Ilian was just as guilty. And if he didn't falter after discovering the truth, nothing would tear him away now. As stupid as that decision was, Faine had to respect it.

Zebulon finalized his statement with, "You will die for this. And your mortal friend will, too. What a pity, only two months left and you couldn't finish your deal."

He stopped in his tracks at the same time Ilian's back pressed against the wall at the end of the hallway. Faine turned him in the other direction and spied an opportunity to escape in a servant's passageway, but needed a distraction to keep Zebulon from pursuing them. Surely, the other members of Rising Eternity would let her live. Some of them, at least. Others, if Faine ran into them, she wouldn't see such luck.

Behind Zebulon's wing, something shifted down the hall. Faine didn't dare crane her neck to draw attention to it, but she recognized the armor peeking out from underneath the feathers. The disguise Celestia put on hours ago melted away and there she stood, in her true form, aiming a crossbow at the back of Zebulon's head.

No questions asked, she shot, and Zebulon whirled, catching the bolt before it slammed into the front of his skull. He regarded the bolt, twisted it in his grip, then tossed it aside onto the floor of the hallway.

Celestia approached slowly, aiming carefully. "I demand you step away from my subjects," she growled.

"You must be mistaken, Faine here belongs to me. She is a member of Rising Eternity and has been spying on your guild for two months now," he regarded.

Celestia's eyes darted between Faine and Zebulon and took in the fact that the feliram was still standing in front of her true subject of Silver Willow—Ilian. Protecting him from whatever danger would come his way, whatever Zebulon had up his sleeve, ripe for the taking. Faine planned to take every slice of pain so he didn't have to.

The crime boss of Silver Willow gave a bitter laugh that unsettled even Zebulon. "I believe you are the mistaken one. It appears as though she's a member of Silver Willow." Celestia positioned herself to stand between their respective groups. "I suggest you leave her be, as well as whatever else you plan to do here. Don't step on any toes."

The seennouk was not amused, nor did he seem to care as he looked from one face to the next. Alone in a hall, against three, and somehow, he appeared to be the clear winner. In Faine's mind, he was. Zebulon lost nothing and as he shifted to face them fully, she tensed. But Ilian had slipped out from behind her and was aiming his crossbow directly at Zebulon's chest.

A wall was not penetrable, but Celestia was. She was all too aware of the fact that all it would take was one swipe of a red wing to send them all skittering to the side, possibly one of them dead and another slamming against the wall. His powers were outmatched with a trait like that, carried against his back with such poise.

"Alert the others," Ilian whispered. "Stop the ceremony and get the high elf family behind closed doors."

There was no negotiating this. Ilian dropped the crossbow to the floor and flicked both his wrists, dislodging the weapons that Faine held so dearly in her heart. To have that influence on him was grander than him falling for her.

"You're making a mistake, mortal," Zebulon proclaimed. He tensed his hands and the retractable claws shot free. "You don't wish to fight me."

Ilian swallowed. "I do," he growled, gathering his courage. His voice was strong, but it faltered towards the end. "For the high elf family, I will."

Celestia shot before the words left his mouth and Zebulon slid to the side, bending backward at the waist. The bolt missed entirely and smacked against the wall, breaking in half. All three advanced in his direction, two going for the attack while Faine ran on the outside. A wing swung for her at the last moment and she dropped, sliding along the marble floors to get underneath.

The talon scraped against the stone and Zebulon shrieked, whirling to chase after her, but Faine sprinted. She turned enough to view Ilian leaping onto Zebulon's shoulders, fumbling to twist the hidden blades in the right direction. The seennouk snapped left and Ilian flew, skidding against the floor, but it was Celestia in wolf form that attacked next.

That was the last thing Faine saw as she rounded the corner, skidding on the marble, and made her way to the throne room. The ceremony had already started. The bishop's voice echoed into the hall and Faine slid in the back of the crowd, meandering along the outside to hide from any eyes of Rising Eternity in the shadows. Her head ducked down, she stopped towards the front next to a burly minotaur and coughed once, twice, then a third time.

Their signal with the high elf family. Virion snapped to attention, turning his once bored stare towards her, and Faine made the warning symbol. She dragged her thumb along her throat and the high elf father paled.

He stepped forward. "A brief moment, please!" Virion shouted into the throne room. The bishop silenced, furrowing his brows as he turned to view the source of the interruption. "One of my son's...closest supporters has a few words she would like to say about his marriage. This is very important; it could be the blessing that stands the test of time."

The crowd released an ensemble of oohs and ahhs and Faine made her way up the dais steps on shaky knees. To have the attention of the entire crowd...her stomach churned. For some reason, the light was brighter, and the air was thinner, yet as she stood at Virion's side and smiled, something settled into place. She didn't take on second personalities for nothing at all. Convincing others of lies was a specific talent of hers.

By now, at least one member of Rising Eternity had to have discovered who she was. It was inevitable. Faine imagined each of them scrambling for what they should do—Zebulon's orders or Kaspar's, but neither would respond any time soon.

"Avas...is a close friend of mine," Faine began shakily. Despite her best efforts to swallow, her mouth remained dry. She wrung her hands. "I am blessing him today, not with fertility or a simple marriage, but with happiness. For it comes too far and between for many of us, I wish for Avas to have all the happiness he'll ever desire. May tears never fall, may his smile always be rich, may his laughter be more magical than the sound of chimes." She turned but found no expression of such pleasure on Avas's face. His bride, a young elf, was just as confused.

She swallowed again.

"It is time for the celebration to shift to the gardens. If everyone would please remain where they are until the high elf family leaves, that would be greatly appreciated. As for the guards, if you would please step forward..." Faine's voice trailed off just as it began to turn unsteady. Guards of all arraying beasts surrounded the dais steps—none she recognized. Good. No members of Rising Eternity had infiltrated the high elf family's personal guard.

A distant clattering to her right caught her attention and Faine whirled just in time to view a crossbow sneaking out from over the banister, directly where she last saw Kaspar. "Guards!" she shouted. But it was too late.

The bolt released, searing through the open air, and someone screamed. Virion stumbled back, clutching onto the new wound in his shoulder, and panic erupted. The guards swarmed the dais, raising their shields to prevent against further attacks just as an arrow shot directly for Faine.

She leapt out of the way and it struck the guard behind her, directly in the chest. He fell with a gasp and the crowd broke into chaos, screaming and running for their lives. Blocking the entrance for the high elf family to make their grand escape.