"I thought we had an actual plan, not a plan to make a plan." Esmera turned to Tauram as he settled into the toffee brown couch beside her.

The fading sky showcased by the window beside him etched out his profile in the blues, purples and oranges of twilight. He faced Esmera, his grin visible in the dim light drifting down from the ceiling.

"I'm sorry that my words deceived you, Esmera."

Looking at the unmistakable amusement glinting in his dark eyes, she wasn't sure whether he was actually apologising or just teasing her. She decided to go with the latter. It was usually the latter.

"It's just that we need certain information before we can make a plan." Tauram smoothed the silky blue cushion resting between him and Esmera. "In order for this to work, we can't take shortcuts."

Esmera rested her head on the sofa's back, looking up at the ceiling and huffing out a breath. "Shortcuts? You say that like we were given a roadmap. We weren't. We were given a task and told to find a way to make it happen."

They, a prince who had been exiled for a decade and a lady who had never known the kingdom she had been born in, were expected to topple a tyrannical ruler in a week and free Milatanur. It seemed impossible, but it was an opportunity, however small.

There were many things Esmera had considered impossible, like finding her way to a magical kingdom, discovering the truth about her parents and her lark, and escaping Stephan, yet all of that had somehow become reality. Maybe it wasn't too much to hope for that she could defy her expectations yet another time for Milatanur's sake.

"Touché." Tauram sank back into the couch. His characteristic comeback wasn't accompanied by his characteristic smile. "But the thing about the gods is that we and our world mean nothing to them. It would probably be easier for them to destroy Milatanur and recreate it according to their wishes. Them giving us this notice, this chance to save it...it's a courtesy. That's why I want to give it my best shot." Tauram met Esmera's eyes then.

Lundas gave a mournful purr at his feet, as solemn as the night.

Esmera saw the fear his words and the rest of his face hid as clearly as if he had spoken it. He had so much more to lose than Esmera did if they failed. Her family was gone, but his wasn't. There was no reviving the dead, at least as far as Esmera knew, but the living could still be saved. That was the goal she would put her mind to, even when questions about her family still haunted her in her quiet moments when Tauram wasn't around to distract her.

She may never get all the answers she wished for, but she might get some this evening if the first phase of Tauram's plan played out as they hoped it would.

Jammas descended from the air onto Esmera's knee. She traced a finger over his soft head. It still didn't feel real that she had finally claimed him after all these years of wondering about him. He felt like a dream that should've dissolved into nothing by now, but he was still here, hopping on the ground around her feet, fluttering about her head or perching on her shoulder. Wherever she was, he was within reach.

Esmera let out a breath. There was a distinct peace associated with his presence. She was in a foreign, magical land she had only found out about the previous day, but she had never been so at ease.

She belonged in Milatanur in a way she never had in Arkōsāra, despite having lived in the other world all her life.

Tauram squinted at the circle of wooden birds with their wings spread to the sky and the clock they surrounded on the wall above the fireplace ahead. He shifted in his seat. Esmera tried not to think about how close his knee was to her legs, which were folded underneath her, but that only made it the only thing she could think about.

"It's not like Anjarah to be late." Tauram frowned.

Esmera fidgeted with the triangular embroidery at the edge of her parsi. What if Anjarah had changed her mind about helping them? They had no plan without her. They couldn't even start thinking about one.

Or worse, what if King Ruagu had intercepted her? Anjarah assisting Esmera and Tauram was a defiance of him, not something he'd take kindly to, from what Esmera had seen of him.

Whatever happens, let Anjarah be okay, Esmera prayed to whichever Milatanuran god looked after the people's safety even though she wasn't sure that she had faith in them. They had left Milatanur to King Ruagu's poisonous power for a decade, but they also had a power far greater than Esmera's would ever be.

Then the brass knocker sounded against the front door, reawakening the sleepy evening and shocking Esmera's back straight.

They both jumped to their feet. Jammas rose into the air with an indignant flapping of his wings as Esmera stood.

"Sorry," she murmured.

Jammas tossed his head, then he was flying after Tauram.

Esmera followed them to the entrance hall, bumping into a table adorned with three painted wooden fish as she rounded the corner into the passage. She apologised to nobody in particular, even though it wasn't her fault that she didn't know her way around this house well enough to make her way around it in the dark.

"Is it really necessary to have the lights on at only half of their potential brightness?" she huffed.

"Yes." Tauram turned around. Esmera couldn't see his smirk, but she could hear it in his voice. "It's for the ambience."

Esmera sighed as she rubbed her hip. She had once lied about her bruises being made by bumping into furniture, but now, that was about to become her reality, just like those fairy tales about meeting princes and being whisked away to magic lands she had told and been told as a child.

She blinked. She hadn't thought about those in years, never until she was living in a very similar story.

She and Tauram headed towards the door, but a tall, thin shadow beat them to it, crossing the carpet in long strides. Tauram cursed under his breath as Belaren's glitter-embroidered form halted in front of the door and threw it open.

He froze. Where she stood on the doorstep, glowing in the porch's light that shone down on her, Anjarah gave him a smile as hesitant as the sunrise in winter, but it was as beautiful when it finally took its full form.

"Hello, Belaren." She pinned back a section of the dark hair that had fallen out of her bun. Samier's green feathers shimmered as he cocked his head, staring up at Belaren almost as if he remembered him but was trying to recall from where and when.

Belaren stared at her for a moment as if he didn't recognise her, then he slammed the door closed because he did know who she was, even all these years after they had last seen each other.

"What are you doing?" Tauram surged through the darkness and grabbed his friend's arm.

Esmera trailed after him, stopping when she was close enough to see Belaren's hand trembling where it was closed around the doorknob. She knew what suppressed fury looked like. Because she had also felt its sting, she knew not to go any closer.

"You never told me she would be coming here." Belaren's voice was little more than a snarl as he turned to face Tauram, bracing his body against the door like he was keeping out an army instead of a lone woman who had come all the way here only because Tauram had asked her to.

"Get over yourself." Tauram kept his voice low and cool, but he was no less terrifying than the quivering Belaren. "That was ten years ago. We need her help now."

Belaren's stare burned into Tauram. His jaw tightened, but he made no move to release the door he held shut in the face of the one person who could make Jilhari's mission possible.

"Our only chance of finding the Finnaz weapon is if we speak to Lord Hudion's familiar, and only Anjarah can help us with that. Stop acting like a child, and let her in." Tauram's voice turned firm as the rock forming the jagged mountain peaks outlined against the sky in the distance. He sounded like a king, and that must've been why Belaren released the door and stepped away from it.

"Don't you dare invite her to dinner," was all he said before stalking away, running his hands through his black hair in agitation. Soon, the sparkling embroidery running down his shirt was all that could be seen of him until he disappeared into another shadowy section of the house.

Tauram let out a breath. Now that the conflict had been averted, Esmera's heart released that fear that made it beat so quickly.

Tauram opened the door, pasting on a smile for Anjarah as if he hadn't been arguing with Belaren just moments ago. It was unsettling how much he could hide from anyone if he chose to. It made Esmera wonder about everything he must be hiding from her.

He had been secretive since the moment they met. Someone so evasive shouldn't be trusted, but Esmera did trust him. She couldn't explain why. It was just one of those things that felt right, like Jammas's weight on her shoulder, like stepping out into the night after Tauram to join Anjarah.

"Ready to go?" Anjarah looked between Esmera and Tauram, smiling, but something shimmered in her eyes. Maybe it was tears. Maybe it was just the porch light's reflection. She blinked and it was gone.

"I am." Tauram locked the door behind him and buttoned his coat up against the coolness of the night that was creeping in.

All Esmera could do to ward away the cold was tuck her shawl tightly around her. Its tasselled edges brushed against her fingers as she did so.

"How about you?" Tauram asked Anjarah.

"I'm ready." Again that smile that was so big it looked like it hurt.
Something else that Esmera knew was that doors may block out sight but not sound. Anjarah must've heard the argument after Belaren closed the door in her face. It must be hurting her so much more than she could say. The pain was there, in that smile that hurt to look at.

Lundas gave a purr that sounded like a question. Anjarah fell to her haunches and put her hand on his head. He merely closed his eyes and didn't snarl as he might've at Esmera's touch.

"Please take us to the eastern edge of Parnakshi," said Anjarah. "We should be able to find our way from there."

Lundas opened his eyes. They lit up like headlights. He gazed into the distance and inclined his head in acceptance of Anjarah's request. He stretched out his spine in preparation to work his magic.

Tauram pulled Esmera to his side. She gave an involuntary sigh at the warmth of his form. She could wrap herself up in as many layers as she wanted, but she could never warm herself up the way he could. It was unfair, yet another one of Milatanur's many injustices.

Jammas made a nest for himself among Esmera's curls despite her protests. Tauram's mouth twitched as he watched the little bird. Esmera's breath only caught. He looked so young when he smiled, unburdened, weightless, and she couldn't look away until he did.

Tauram took hold of Anjarah's arm. Samier remained at her ankles, squawking as Lundas's golden form circled their feet. Esmera expected the light of Lundas's power to enclose them. She closed her eyes before it did, but it burned through her eyelids, brightening the world behind them.