Pait had given bunking with Tash a try. It wasn’t like she was a stranger to sleeping cramped in a small dark space with a bunch of kids—she thought it might even remind her of Madam Agatha’s a bit, maybe she’d finally find something a little bit familiar.

But Ori hadn’t been joking about Tash kicking in her sleep—really it was more like shoving. Twice Pait was launched from the bed, nearly squishing one of the younger children sleeping on a bedroll on the floor. That was tolerable—she would have let herself get launched a few more times, or maybe even just stayed there on the floor with only her own cloak as bedding. What wasn’t tolerable was everything that was happening inside her.

As soon as the kids finally went quiet, cicada song swelled to fill all the empty spaces in the night. Pait would swear it was growing louder and louder. She could feel it behind her eyeballs, like that cicada from earlier had crawled into her throat, then chewed its way up inside her brain where it sat, screeching and vibrating. Drowning out even the beat of her own heart.

The three inked letters on Pait’s forearm itched and throbbed, reminding her with each pulse that she had been irreparably marred. She was damaged. And if no one had wanted her before, she stood no chance of being wanted now. An ache built in her chest, swelling along with the cicada song. It built and built—leaving no room for her lungs to fill, no matter how hard she sucked in air.

Panic shot through her like electricity, and she sat up, already scrambling to find her stolen boots. She tried to stay quiet as she picked her way over the small sleeping figures on the floor, grabbed her bedroll, then felt her way in the dark out of the room and toward the front door. She shoved through the door, chest heaving, and ran straight into a body just on the other side of it.

Ori grabbed her arm to keep her from stumbling, the glowstone lantern in his hand creaking as it swayed. He must have been returning from guard duty. “Pait?”

“Sorry,” she panted, and tried to walk around him.

“Ay,” he said gently—by the glow of the lantern she could see concern on his pimply face. “Name your destination—I’ll keep your side company.”

Pait wavered. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this. But she also didn’t know how to navigate this place in the dark. But she also didn’t know if she could trust this guy—he seemed nice enough, kind even, but in her experience, the ones that wore Kindness and Charm like a mask were the cruelest.

She’d always felt more comfortable around people who were outright assholes. “Just point me toward the path to Daivad’s house.”

~*~*~

Lenna sat on the edge of her bed as night fell. She had the room to herself, but the rest of her house was full of temporary guests, laying out their bedrolls.

She didn’t know what else to do. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d really slept, which was bad enough, but the incident earlier terrified her. Someone had seen her—stumbling, screaming, completely convinced she was a filthy, bony monster on four spindly legs. Shame made her blood run cold even as the skin of her neck and face burned, it churned violently in her stomach. What if it happened again? What if next time Tobei saw her? Lenna could hear the derisive laughter, the vicious mocking, and she began to shiver. Panic welled in her eyes.

What if next time Daivad saw her?

Lenna caught herself digging her fingers into the bloody rune on her neck and forced her hand back to her lap.

She needed something that would distract her. That would wear her out so completely there’d be no chance of nightmares about choking on her own black blood.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

She needed Daivad to fuck her unconscious. It was her last hope.

So, Lenna carefully brushed out her hair and did her best to hide the black circles under her eyes with powder. She smeared on lavender-scented body cream and dressed in nothing but a white nightgown, trying not to think about the last time she’d donned it before going to his house. The little blonde bitch wasn’t here anymore. There were no more distractions.

Last, she tied a red silk scarf around her neck to cover the wound that never got a chance to scar because she just found herself clawing it open every night. She waited until her houseguests had quieted and all that could be heard was the screeching of cicadas, the singing of tree frogs, and the distant calls of beasts far off in the forest. And she headed toward Daivad’s house.

A few people must have seen her pass. She’d had to actually step over someone along the way. She held her head high and strode with purpose, pretending she was fine with the whole camp knowing where she was going and what she was doing, no matter how she was received when she got there. She told herself she must look beautiful, ethereal—something out of a wet dream. If she believed it, maybe she could make it so.

A giggle in the darkness snagged her attention. “…Like the Dark Mother gave Desperation two eyes, a nose, and red hair…”

Lenna whipped around fast enough to nearly send herself over the bridge railing, her skin bubbling with humiliation. “Who’s there?” She couldn’t help the shrill edge to her voice.

Behind her, the Darkness giggled again. But when she spun, the faint light of a few glowstone lamps along the bridge revealed no one. She hadn’t recognized the voice—actually, she couldn’t remember what the voice had sounded like at all.

No. She absolutely was not hearing things. If she believed it, then maybe she could make it so. And she started back across the bridge.

As with last time, he met her at his front door. And as with last time, he didn’t look amused. Daivad loomed over her in his doorway wearing the light, loose sleeping pants she’d made for him, his icy eyes glaring out from under shaggy hair.

“Lenna,” he growled, and it sent shivers through her body.

He started to say something else, but she cut him off. “I came to give my apologies. To show you, to prove to you that I have tamed my tongue.”

In little more than a hiss, he said, “Can you not name the number of times I’ve said—?”

“I can name the number of times you’ve let me in,” she countered. She knew all the steps to this dance, she’d been rehearsing all day, and she couldn’t afford to stumble this time.

She wanted to strip her nightgown off, to drop to her knees and convince him without words, but she knew that wouldn’t work. Daivad always had to lead.

“Tonight bears another name.” His tone was a clear dismissal.

But this was her last hope. He started to turn.

“Please,” her voice cracked, and for a second her lungs seized, just like they did in the dream. Tears of frustration burned her eyes, but she blinked them away. She smoothed her expression as best she could before he turned back to her.

For a beat, he just watched her. She was afraid to look up at his face, at what judgment she might find there.

“What’s wrong, Lenna?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

Another pause. “Have you seen Kadie?”

“I’m fine,” she made her voice firm. And then softened it slightly, “A night in your bed is cure enough. Please, Daivad. Anything…”

“Go home, Lenna.”

She grabbed at him before he could turn, and he ripped his arm out of her grasp just as quickly, a snarl curling his lip. Panicked, she said, “I’ll do anything. Be anyone.”

On the bridge behind Lenna, there was a creak and Daivad straightened. Lenna turned to see the kid, again. Lenna couldn’t see her expression in the dark, but she heard a mumbled, “Sorry,” and then another creak as she retreated.

“Stop,” Daivad commanded. Then, “Go home, Lenna. Now.”

“It’s fine,” the kid was saying, “I don’t—”

“Shut up.”

And Lenna didn’t hear the rest, because a fog came over her. Where she went, what she did from there, she would never remember. Nor would she ever be sure any of it had been real.