Maren was stubborn, but her stomach was even more hardheaded than she.

The growls and grumbles intensified through the hours since Seokjin had gone. The idea of dinner brought water to her mouth. Eventually, she knew she had no choice but to feed her cravings when the ruby on her cursed ring seemed appetizing--even breakable if she chewed it off. Gathering herself, she stood up from her spot before the fireplace and grabbed a coat from her wardrobe. She observed the wool slippers at the foot of her bed for a split second, and noticed something new.

Outside the window, the sky was a deep, guttural blue. The few stars above the treeline twinkled from a distance. However, her feet were not cold on the marble floors. The fireplace still broiled with heat and charred logs. She was warm.

Warm and starving. Another second in this room and she'd start shoving the gossamer curtains into her mouth. She folded the coat over her arm just in case the hallways were not the same temperature. She left the room without anything to cover her feet.

The corridor outside held a friendly but muted warmth. It needed another fireplace to be as comfortable as her bedroom. Even so, the harsh ripple of wildfire smoke no longer saturated the air. It smelled less of apples and more like outdoors. Windows must have been opened elsewhere, the body of night drifting through each chamber with the lightest touch of smoke. Debris still littered the ragged carpet. Doors still hung at odd angles from their hinges. The art still fluttered helplessly through the natural draft.

Maren quieted her breathing and steps as she neared one of the main hallways. Panic fluttered in her chest as her eyes immediately flicked to the inherent shadows of the vaulted ceiling.

The masked man had been there last, watching and waiting.

He--Seokjin--had been there.

She shuddered at his name, at both images of him. One wearing a cape of firelight and smiles, the other twice his size and clawed. The same soul, but separated bodies. Were they even separated? Would he be mad to find her lurking? Would he attack her again? All these things she never considered when she acted on hunger to leave her room. But being vulnerable now, a knot formed in her chest. One never had an appetite to be shoved into a table or tackled or towered over. Especially not to be yelled at, threatened, or nearly killed.

But for the sake of her peace of mind, she assumed his amusement with her was over. He had spoken to her today. She had gotten in her jabs. He exchanged his niceties. There was nothing left to say. Nothing that would matter anyway. If it wasn't about breaking her curse, then it wasn't necessary. They could go on and on about who was a worse friend and the best liar, but what was there to gain from it?

There was reason to be afraid of masked Seokjin. But, there was reason not to be. He received his wish in her stagnation. At the same time, there were other hells he could reign upon her. After all, she was under his supervision. He was responsible for her life. Yet, he also had the power to end that life whenever he desired.

Her stomach knocked on her insides again. Daring not to hide, she navigated to the dining room.

As she turned into the proper corridor, a slender figure stepped from her destination. Her blond hair was nearly white in the onslaught of moonlight, her grey and silver robes gleaming in contrast to the silver tray in her hand. In ash-tinged surroundings, Emberlynn resembled a maiden risen from the dust with a golden ring around her irises to prove that she, too, was part of the kingdom. But when she spotted Maren, the attendant paused, pity warping her beauty.

Maren approached her anyway, careful not to step on glass with her freshly healed feet.

The attendant grinned sadly over the tray, her voice low. "You left your room."

"I did," Maren whispered. "Funny running into you at this time of night."

Only slightly bemused, Emberlynn raised an eyebrow. "Is everything all right?"

Maren's stomach answered for her. Blood rushed to the girl's cheeks, her eyes immediately falling to her feet. "I'm sorry."

Emberlynn clicked her tongue. "I'm just glad you are alright. I was afraid you would never move," she said, moving to hold her tray by the bottom rather than by the handles. "I can't fire up the ovens this late, but I am sure I can get you something delicious. If you wait for me in the dining room, I'll be right there."

Maren grabbed her shoulder before she could take off. "It's okay. That's selfish of me to make you work this late. You should head to bed."

"Nonsense," Emberlynn replied, tilting her shoulders so that Maren's hand fell off. "I... have knowledge that your stay has been tough, to say the least. It is the least I can do."

"Emberlynn, I'll be fine. I'm sure the Prince would prefer if I didn't eat anyway."

She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it to grin politely. "I will be twenty minutes or less," she said. At last, she went away.

Maren hadn't realized she'd been on the brink of tears until one slipped down her cheek. More came. She didn't stop them. She gave herself these stolen moments to release her exhaustion from the past few days and to feel what deprivation of a meal did to the soul. She was drained from head to toe, not only physically, but mentally and emotionally. A seat at the dining table would be good. Perhaps that would be the next place she would not leave.

Plus, the irony of it all... only a while ago she would have been just fine with not eating, eager to stay out of others' way, used to deprivation. Since when had she actively began to advocate for what she wanted?

Not caring to wipe her face, she barreled into the dining room. At night, the grand room was an enigma. Black, veined marble made up the floor. The colossal walls were dark and tall. The three fireplaces simmered a deep blue hue, their essence not radiating enough heat to warm the entire room. The dining table was just as long as it normally was with a white tablecloth coating the exterior. Gothic candelabras lined the center, their cerulean flames bathing empty table places in teal. The chandeliers overhead were dim as well, but they were still crystal.

The series of windows to the right opened Maren's eyes to the garden below. Black, gnarled trees jutted from grey earth like obsidian fingers. The silver bushes giving life to dire roses were dead, the withered black petals drifting slowly from thorny silver stems. The ash rain was soft tonight. A bit more like snow than a storm. Fresh, grey snow that buried everything dead and everything fighting to live too.

"You need a bath."

Maren halted, tracing the origin of that familiar voice to the corner behind her left shoulder. Slowly, she turned her head until she saw him. His black hair hung over his black, cynical eyes. His full lips were not curled into disdain, but by the tone of his voice they should have been. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and his foot kicked up like he'd been staring through the windows ahead until she waltzed in to block his view. There were no feathers. He was his normal size. But the difference in him was pronounced. Loud.

Fae noses were sensitive, that much she knew. But she hadn't realized how sensitive. She also never anticipated running into anyone that would care. For a brief second, she thought of whether Emberlynn caught a scent of her demoralizing three day vacation, and she did not let herself think of it again. She knew better than this.

Ignoring him, she stalked to the other side of the table, avoiding her signature seat because of his proximity. She chose a seat at the very edge of the other side instead.

"I thought you would be spiteful enough to pass away in your room. I'm almost impressed by how you did not let your ego completely destroy you." His words were laced with venom. Each sentence like a drag of his talons down her paper-thin pride. "But I should not speak too soon. Your recklessness with your own life speaks legions about your own stability."

She wiped her tears from earlier, content enough with listening. If he would have found her earlier she would have launched her spitfire right back, igniting them both into a frenzy. But now, she was as good as a dwindling sparkler. Dimming by the second.

"Nothing vicious to say in return? Color me more impressed."

Her voice was small. More of a croak than anything else. "What do you want?"

"Nothing from a creature so pitiful." He kicked off from the wall, slowly approaching the table. "I should ask what you want from me since you can't keep your hands or your attitude to yourself."

Where was this coming from? Despite the stirring emotions he put onto her side of the table, bewilderment won out. If he were Prince Seokjin at the time the sun was up and Prince Seokjin by the time it vanished, then why was she talking to a completely different individual? His appearance had changed, but did that mean his mentality changed too?

There was nothing kind about him. Nothing warm. Nothing even nice.

"Who are you, really?" she dared to ask.

"You saw. I won't show you again." Already looking exasperated from talking to her, he took the head seat at the opposite end of the table. "You are more intelligent than this. You have to be."

She sighed, the release of air almost making her shoulders cave in.

"Please. Stop," she mumbled. "I don't want to do this with you."

"No," he said matter-of-factly, "You have to. You said Maren is your name. Not Penelope even if that is the one you've told others to call you. You came to my land and accepted his request for friendship with absolute knowledge that your intentions were to steal from underneath our nose. You made the mistake of picking the one object I care for most and roped others into your scheme. Yet, when told to take accountability for it, you crumble rather than having a backbone. Am I wrong?"

Out of pride she turned the other way.

"AM I WRONG?" he roared, the table candelabras shivering from the boom of his voice.

Out of terror she faced him again. "I said stop it!"

"Why should I relent? Because you cannot handle it? Because you cannot admit that you are not only a liar but a thief? He may speak for me at sunrise but while I am here, I will not let you rest. I will not forgive so easily!"

"I don't want your forgiveness," she said, her voice trembling.

"No, you don't. You would rather beg for death than take accountability for your actions or lack thereof. You would rather let your pride get you killed than taking a look in the mirror and examining the fact that you despise yourself for being so helpless and you take it out on others. Do you think your act is not transparent?"

It became cold enough in the room for her to put the coat on. However, she could not move.

"You cannot admit your own defeat. You aren't even able to recognize that the person that defeats you most is yourself. Putting on a brave front does not make you courageous. Being angry does not put your soul at rest. You're only running in circles from yourself, terrified of looking at your own shadow."

She grinned lazily, glad to see it digging under his skin for what it was worth. "You know nothing about me. Nothing except for what I tell you."

"You've told me everything I needed to know with the way you've handled yourself thus far. Do you think I care for something as trivial as your background story? Surely, you didn't think I would ask you about that?"

She blinked.

He shifted in his seat. "Humans like you make me exhausted. All you do is stand in your own way."

Hollow, she shrugged. "All you do is talk."

"All you do is lie," he said.

"You've sold a fantasy to all the women in your custody."

He scoffed. "You've never spent a day in your life without chains and it shows."

She tried not flinch at that.

"You're a monster," she said.

"You are abrasive, hypocritical, insecure, stubborn, tactless, and weak-willed. But of all of those observations, you refuse to acknowledge that you can be just as beastly as me. And for that, you are not only purposefully cruel, but a coward."

Maren stood, a fork falling to the ground at her sudden departure from the chair. Wordlessly, she stepped away from the table and escorted herself to her room. A numbness settled over her limbs and body, so thick that she stared aimlessly ahead dreaming of the one thing she wanted most.

Relief.

She did not notice Jimin watching her pass from the mouth of the library. She saw nothing but darkness as she closed her door behind her and sat cross-legged before the fireplace.

More sorrowful than angry, she wished the could jump into the flames and let them encase her in slumber. A sleep so deep and calm that his words would no longer resound through her spirit.

But for the longer she sat, the more the fire's heat seared into her cheeks.

She remembered his title for her. It branded her forehead as though the hot air churning in the hearth pressed into her skull on all four sides.

Coward, he'd said.

And he was right on every count.

Because no matter how much she yearned for the end, she would never let herself take the leap.

(A/N)

Fairie friends!
I just drove 8 hours to my home from my college town and I cannot feel my legs :) my brain is as good as a poached egg :) and nighttime Jin ain't nice :)

I love you!

Next release: 12/13 December 13th

With love,
Milan