If it was strange going to sleep next to Quin, it's even stranger trying to sleep next to Sheo. I'm fairly certain he's not even sleeping, and there are too many thoughts in my own head to sleep either. Yet we lay here in silence. I have so many more questions, but I don't want to ask them. I've already asked too many and who knows what else I'd say if I start talking again. If I'm not careful, I feel like I'd tell him anything. He has exactly that comfortable, inviting air about him that I spent years trying to achieve as a woman of status. I thought I had achieved it up till now, but tonight has been so strange that I'm sure I'm the one who's acted the awkward hermit.

The questions burn the more I keep them in. I really do hate mysteries. I want to know what happened to all those other brides, what kind of lives they were forced to live, what kinds of deaths they faced... but I also think it's better not to know, because I can't do anything about it. I've read the story about the curious wife who stuck her nose in the wrong place. I know I'd do best to just forget it.

He did say I should do what I want, so I suppose that means he’ll just leave me be. Even if he doesn't, it's not as though I didn't prepare for all aspects of marriage when I thought it would be with Quin. There's logically nothing to worry about. Nothing new, anyway, they're both equally strangers to me and this unexpected development won't affect that aspect in the least. Actually, I know more about Sheo now than I do of Quin. I already think I prefer him.

"Can't sleep?" he asks suddenly. My startled movement gives me away.

I shift to my back and answer lamely, "Nor you."

"Oh I wouldn't miss a moment of this. I haven't had anyone come to stay in two hundred years, you know."

My head turns and I see he's lying on his side, gray eyes fixed on me. Is he that interested in my presence? It's almost laughable how opposite this is from earlier with Quin. But something doesn't add up. "Two hundred? Not one?"

"My last bride died before I met her."

I'm starting to think about those questions again. "What happened to her?"

"They didn't tell me, but he wasn't the most stable vessel I've had. It's not hard to guess."

I'm suddenly aware of how lucky I am that Quin has no interest in me. I hadn't even considered that he could be just as dangerous as Sheo. Or that my life would become so remote in conjunction with his, to the point that no one would notice I went missing for a while. Anything could happen up here, I don’t even know how to get out of the castle from this tower.

Though it seems more like nothing happens, most of the time. Unlike Quin, who must go outside at some point, perhaps with Shay and Nora, I get the impression that Sheo doesn't leave this tower at all. It’s hard to imagine being virtually alone for two hundred years. I’m not sure why he’s stuck here, but what I do know is that so far he's been friendly, and that he’s probably very lonely. I’m stuck here now, too, so I should at least try to start off on the right foot with him, considering I'm sure I’ll have enough to get worked up over with Quin.

Silence settles between us and I stare up at the bed canopy. I'm still not tired, but I'm finally starting to relax. Despite everything, it does feel nice to finally have a conversation with someone today.

"Would you like to do something else?" I ask, turning over to face him, "we're not sleeping anyway."

Sheo raises an eyebrow. "Hm? Like what?"

I hadn't really thought about it yet. "I don't know… chess, cards— what?" He's looking at me differently, like I've said something odd.

"You really want to do that?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

He chuckles softly. "Well you're very calm about all of this. An hour ago you didn't know I existed, there's a dozen reasons for you to avoid me, and you're under no obligation to interact with me at all. Not to mention your life no doubt just completely changed. Most would want to be left alone right now."

I almost laugh at this. You’re the one who keeps talking to me when I’m pretending to sleep! Maybe he's right about most people, but not about me.

"Believe it or not," I sit up and look down at him, "You've made me feel welcome here, and I'd like to get to know you myself before coming to any conclusions about you. Besides," it really is too easy to tell him anything, "I wanted today to be memorable. Maybe it still can be."

A smile spreads across his face and he tilts his head slightly. "Meeting me wasn't memorable? Well then, I'll do anything you want, pearl."

I pull back the blankets to crawl out of bed again when I see his smile fade again.

"Is something wrong?"

He shakes his head and turns over to get up at the other side of the bed. "It's cold tonight, you should put something warmer on."

Oh, so that's all.

"I'm fine." In truth, the cool air feels nice at the moment, and we'll be sitting by the fire, so I'll be warm enough. I don’t know where my things were stored, and it’s much too late to call for Nora.

"I'm not," he answers bluntly, coming round the foot of the bed to face me again, "Are you trying to kill me already?"

It takes me a moment to catch his meaning, and then I go red for the third time. Right, he's not Quin, Prince of Indifference. This lacy thing I'm wearing doesn't hide much at all.

Wait, isn't this how it's supposed to be, though? The whole point of this garment? We're married (at least I think we are) and he’s not unattractive. He’s also just as half dressed as I am, which is entirely unfair, and I’m starting to wonder if maybe I should let things play out this way. I was sort of expecting to go that direction tonight, back when everything was still going to plan.

"We can do that instead," I try to sound casual, but I'm not sure it's working, "If… if you want."

Sheo leans against the bed post and looks at me for a very long time before saying anything, though his eyes are already answering for him. In the meantime my heart has started pounding again, and I'm already changing my mind. I think that was a mistake...

"No," he eventually dismisses the topic, "Not tonight."

He doesn't seem convinced at all, and for a moment I feel more confident than I have all day. Before I can change my mind for the third time in the space of a minute, I put on a smile and ask again, "Are you sure?"

All I hear is the fire crackling, and the sound of my own heart. The silence is longer even than before as I wait for his response. At last, he closes his eyes for a moment, and then steps towards me. "My brave seductress," he takes my hand and kisses the back of it. "You're very tempting, but tonight I'd much rather learn your games."

Admittedly I'm relieved. It’s obvious to me now that I’m still not sure I know what I want, and I have a sneaking feeling he's picked up on that. Is he actually being considerate, or is he really more interested in cards?

"Learn? Haven't you played cards before?" He's been around for centuries. Then again, cards would fall apart underwater, and they are a human invention as far as I'm aware. Maybe they're too recent. "Just how long have you been up here?"

"Four hundred years," he answers easily, "give or take. There's cards in the desk drawer. I assume Quin plays with the twins."

"They don't play with you?" I ask as I pull on one of his dressing robes, which he's grabbed out of the wardrobe for me. The sleeves are too long, but it's comfortable.

His eyebrows lift in wry amusement. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but Shay hates me. Nora doesn't know how to hate, but I seem to scare her, so the result is the same."

"That's…" I don't really know what to say.

"They have their reasons. I don't mind."

He sits down in the lumpy chair and I take the seat across from it. There's already a table between us, so I start dealing the cards and explaining how to play.

"Who taught you this game?" he asks as he organizes his hand.

I reach forward out of habit to angle his cards so that I can't see them, and try not to laugh because he's so like a child holding cards for the first time. "My brothers."

"Oh? How many brothers do you have?"

"Two. It's just the three of us. They were already adults when I came along."

"Half siblings?"

"I'm adopted."

He pauses and looks up at me. "Ah." The reaction sounds apologetic.

I know how it looks, because I’ve grown up with people pointing it out, and whispering behind my back about it. The thing is, it’s true and I don’t care. "It's alright, really. I've always been aware I was adopted because they had no daughters for this role."

"They told you that much, but not the part about me?"

I shake my head. "I don't believe they knew. My mother would have prepared me differently… she's a very thorough woman. I'd have been taught every piece of lore that ever existed about you."

"Probably for the best that she didn't…"

"But even if they did know, it doesn't make much difference to me. If I'm useful, then I'll have repaid them for taking such good care of me, when I could have grown up on the streets like so many others. I'd much rather make a living pleasing one man than many." I've never told anyone that, especially not men I just met, but as usual it's hard not to say what comes to mind with him.

I clear my throat when he says nothing in response, and add, "They've always treated me as a real member of the family, whether in public or private. So whatever they knew or didn't know, and whatever happens here, if it's the reason for the good life I had, and all the privilege that wasn't mine, I don't mind at all."

As I talk, I feel like a weight is melting away. I always feel better after talking things out with someone, it helps me organize my thoughts and sort out my emotions, even if the other person doesn’t say anything.

He's very focused on his cards, but I can tell he's been listening. Eventually he comments simply, "You're very rational for a human."

"Am I?" It's probably meant as a compliment, despite the implication that he believes my entire species is typically irrational. I laugh awkwardly as he takes his turn, and quickly seize the opportunity to change the subject, "And you're very good at this for your first try."

His eyes flash up at me and his smile returns. "I'm a fast learner. It'd be embarrassing if I wasn't at my age."

At that last phrase, my mind immediately pictures an elderly person going on about the things they used to be young enough for, and I feel myself shiver. Obviously he's extremely old, but 'ancient' sounds so much better than elderly. "How old are you, anyway?" I ask.

"You know…" he sets down another card, "I don't remember. Seven thousand? Or was it eight now…"

It's hard to fathom being so old you can't remember what millennium you're from. It's even harder to wrap my head around teaching something new to someone who's existed longer than my entire civilization. It must get so boring, being around for so long, even without being cooped up in this tower.

"Well, you may learn fast," I lay down the last card in my draw pile with a triumphant grin, "but not fast enough."