The next morning is quiet. At least in our corner of the sleeping chambre. The others laugh, bicker or gossip, filling the room with an air of lightheartedness the both of us will forever be barred form. Enya did try to join us, but Karas stare made it abundantly clear that he was not welcome. He had tried to search my gaze, but I kept my head lowered. Childish. And so he left, joining his friends.

I didn’t realize just how draining being part of a group had been, them joking and laughing. And me joking with them. Now it was quiet, the wall between the world and me restored.

A nock rings out, the noise quiets down. The servant doesn’t even open the door: “549 Njra”.

Closing the door behind me, the whispering instantly softens, thought it takes shutting the door in the servant corridor for them to fade completely. The eyes of the woman leading me are locked on the ground. “Whats your name?”, I ask.

She doesn’t answer of course, just mumbles an excuse and wisps off. Finally I’m alone. Before me looms the giant oak door, carvings running along its side. Even if I were to gouge out my eyes, I don’t think I could ever forget them. A hundred figures contorted in just as many poses, each of them examined again and again to buy a few precious moments before entering. I take a deep breath, adjust my body and slip in.

Niilan sits at his desk, hunched over plans, letters and reports, strewn about where once they had been in neatly organized piles. I cross the room, lean over his shoulders and wrap my hands around him: “Is there something on your mind master?”

He sights. A long and exacerbated sound, done just to garner sympathy: “I’m done for...” Pathetic.

I nestle my head in the nook between shoulder and head: “That bad? May I ask what happened?”

“The blintlant mine has gone dry. Four, that’s all I have left now.”

I look over his shoulder. On the map laid out in front of him, it’s crossed out, ink still wet. The paper is littered with crosses, some in ink almost as washed out as that on the map itself, others fresh and dark. It must have been a long time since someone marked more mines than they crossed out. How about the other masters?

“You’re so unlucky! First the tournament, and now blintlant as well”, I say.

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He leans back, runs his finger thru my hair. Break them.

“I know! At least the others aren’t doing any better. The maiad family had to close a big one just last year. If this carries on, the council will have to open their own mines to the market or were in deep trouble.”

“The council has silver?”

“Yes. But they won’t tell us were. They guard that secret better than their own prisons. Whenever there’s a shortage, they sell it off to exorbitant prices. Or loyalty. Or amies. But it’s too little. If they just sold the location instead, wed might actually get enough to be of some use.” Niilan stands up: “I almost forgot, you have a fight in a week, I switched you with the useless wildling. I expect you to be at your best. I have a meeting with one of the councils’ inner circle. If everything goes well, who knows, maybe I can be the one that gets the rights to the location once it becomes public.”

I nod and smile. He goes to lay on his bed and waits for me to join. I obey. He presses heavy against my side, hands wrapping around my waist, long fingernails, groomed to useless perfection, dig into my skin. I move mine over his, same nails on slender fingers, soft hands which even he had to know could never be my real ones. A distorted mirror pinned down on top of him, feigning pleasure when really it shattered with every touch.

I roll over, positioning my boy in just the way for his hands slip off: “You seem tired”.

“I am”, he lets himself sink further into the bed, “I’ve been working the entire day. Barely had enough time to eat.”

“Should I ask a servant to bring something to help you sleep?”

He cups my cheeks, grins: “You’re not getting rid of me that easily”

Kill him. I giggle: “You do me wrong. I was simply concerned.”

“You know, Maryln asked for you. Apparently you have caught the fancy of her youngest daughter.”

I have to force my body to not flinch at the words. No. Not again.

“What did you say?”

“I haven’t decided yet. But she’s willing to invest quite a bit.”

I place my leg between his thighs. The feeling of his skin pressed against mine makes my entire blood run cold. I give a soft smile: “Whatever you desire, I will gladly do. But if it’s of any consequence... I’d like to stay by your side.”

“Very well. I never could resist you.” His finger trace over my scars: covered in cloth, twice healed and twice ripped open: “Its a shame. You had such beautiful skin. But you gave me no choice, you do understand that? It’s not like I wanted to do it.”

“Of course. I’m grateful that in your kindness, you speared me more.”

He kisses me. Defiles the smile perpetually carved onto my lips. I remember when I was younger they used to tremble each time he did. They don’t anymore, they haven’t for a long time.