The response of the work leaders had been better than Corabelle had expected, but certainly below what Ella had clearly hoped.

  There was no clamorous agreement, no rallied enthusiasm. Instead they were met with mostly silence. Few nodded their heads hesitantly, a handful of murmurs of mild acceptance.

  Though the majority stayed warily still.

  Ella dismissed them after this, allowing them time to mull over her words as she encouraged them to spread this information to their subordinates and friends.

  Once the room was clear, Ella had escorted her personally back to her cell.

  But the whispers as she passed were different than the first time. Information had clearly traveled rather quickly or perhaps some had been eavesdropping.

  Woven among the words of fear were a few notes of curiosity.

  Corabelle had done her best not to meet the gaze for too long as she listened into their conversation.

  As she sat on her cot, her hand pressed to Zaramir’s chest as he laid across her lap as comfortably as she could manage, she finally got a chance to truly notice her surroundings.

  Her cell was roughly hollowed walls, not care or finesse like she’d seen in the dormitory rooms she’d passed on her way here. A good deal of murky Dewsilver accumulated in pocks in the floor and a poorly fitted rusting cell door pretended to keep her trapped.

  Her guard detail remained, but they weren’t entirely what she’d been picturing. They wore plain clothing and mismatched armour. While this reality was what she should have foreseen, a good part of her expected dark uniforms and the armour of knights to guard against the beast in their home.

  Instead the people watching her with nervous eyes wore an amalgamation of ill fitted leather mostly, carved with the skill of a hobbyist. One in this segment of the rotation had a metal helmet, missing a fair chunk of one side.

  This particular group, she deduced, was the one that usually contained the two who liked to talk, but with Corabelle’s eyes free to wander, they seemed to think they should stay silent.

  At moments, Corabelle Corabelle wanted to assure them they could continue their conversations, but the moment they tensed as her eyes met them, she held her tongue, instead focusing her attention on Zaramir.

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  Nothing much had changed, her own Dewsilver had worn off a good long while ago, so his should be shortly as well.

  His wounds were well beyond healed now. While the scar tissue faded, she doubted it would ever fade entirely.

  The Runebinds that had once resided across his left arm, had now manifested across his stomach, finding space where they could, their proper home long gone.

  He was thinner now, almost thinner than he’d been at Firyna. The old white scars she knew were entirely invisible against his pale skin. Combined with his faded, tattered clothing, he almost looked like a ghost.

  Despite this, seeing him here she could almost imagine the last five years had been a long nightmare she’d finally been free from. Maybe the girl in the grove hadn’t died. Maybe the Fae entering their world was just a scary story told among friends.Maybe in the blink of an eye she’d find herself laying in bed staring up at enchanted glass and fictional sheep.

  Though of course she knew it was just a fantasy. She had died. The Fae were here. The castle was gone.

  But at least this one thing, at least he, was still the same.

  “Miss Cora?”

  Corabelle nearly jumped out of her skin as a low voice echoed through her chamber.

  It took her a moment to realize it was one of the guards, as his coworker elbowed him sharply in the ribs with terrified eyes.

  He ignored the attack and continued, “Cora, that’s the name I’ve heard her call you. That’s correct, right?”

  “Yes,” Corabelle spoke tentatively.

  “May I ask you something, Miss Cora?” He asked, taking a half a step forward.

  She nodded, “Of course.”

  His hands balled into nervous fists, “I promise you I don’t mean any offence by this,” He said quickly before he could lose his nerves. “But we were told that Faedemons might be good. Is that true? You really don’t want to hurt us?”

  “I never wanted to hurt anyone,” She answered.

  “And… other Faedemons. They--they might be the same?” His expression was undisguised desperation. He wanted what she said to be true.

  He lost someone.

  “I can not speak for every Faedemon,” She said carefully. “But, yes, there are many who don’t want to obey the orders given.”

  She smiled as his expression shifted to a hopeful relief.

  He returned her smile with caution but froze before the words could find their way from his parted lips.

  The other two guards tensed.

  Though before Corabelle could question what was wrong she felt a subtle shift under her palm.