“Ah, Fayne. And here I thought you’d never want to be alone with me.” he laughs as we make our way past nosy onlookers to an adjacent hallway.

There are no guests in this part of the house. Only maids remain here, but once they see Ryleth and myself strolling through, they are quick to disappear and giggle girlishly as they go.

“I thought you knew me better than that.” I sigh. “Just like you know all your fellow hunters.”

We stumble upon a room that serves no other purpose other than storage. I light a candelabra mounted on the wall so we can just barely see one another in the confined space. The shadows dance on Ryleth’s face and partially illuminate the boxes and crates that are piled behind us.

My colleague looks as pleased as a worshiped cat and uses the opportunity of our alone time to back me against the door and let his lips brush my earlobe. I shudder and give him a light shove, to which he has a hearty laugh over.

“Alright, alright. I’m done, I swear it.” Ryleth says once he’s more collected. “It’s a shame, though. You truly are a fruit I have not and will never taste, Fayne.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that and skip straight to the point.” I reprimand sternly. “What would you say to one final hunt? An extermination of those walking nightmares?”

He looks amused and I think he figures I am joking. But when my face doesn’t change, Ryleth blinks a few times and looks thoughtful.

“No more hunting?” he ponders aloud. “Well, I can’t say I would reject the idea completely. But I must say, it doesn’t really sound easily feasible. We tried it a long time ago and failed miserably, to the point where some of our own left our ranks and unwillingly joined the undead.”

I frowned. I wasn’t aware of such a story, but I chalk that up to Ryleth’s seniority over me.

Supposedly, he became a hunter when he was just a boy and being almost a decade older, he has far more experience and knowledge of the trade than I. He saved our hides when Thomasin and I nearly got ourselves killed on our very first hunt all those years back. In exchange for teaching us a few helpful tricks, we allowed him to know our identities and though we initially worried, Ryleth never betrayed our secret to anyone. We later learned we were not the only hunters to be unmasked to him; he apparently knew everyone that kept the streets safe during the full moon. His favorite claim to make was that he had also bedded every active hunter at one point or another, though I’m not entirely sure how true that was.

“What if I told you that I knew where their stronghold is?” I ask. “What if there was a way to smoke them out and end everything in an ambush? During the day, no less.”

My vague description of a plan seems to intrigue Ryleth. He cocks his head and rubs his jaw, thinking over the information I had just given him. When he realizes I am staring at him and awaiting an answer, he catches my gaze and smirks.

“Could be fun.” he admits teasingly. “Is this date going to be with just the two of us?”

“As if.” I scoff. “I got recruited by a cartographer and a priest. They told me to ask around and maybe get a group of hunters together.”

Ryleth’s neatly-plucked eyebrows raise suggestively. I can tell that even he is wary now that I’ve mentioned the outsiders involved. Sex-craved flirt aside, he is still a hunter and hunters do not like to be in the spotlight. It’s the reason why we cover our faces from one another and flee at the first signs of the sun creeping over the horizon.

“I could ask around…” Ryleth considers, his voice low enough to sound like a mumble but still audible enough for me to hear it. “Maybe if you can give me something in return?”

“I’m not sleeping with you.” I snap in flat-out refusal.

“Oh Fayne, you wound me.” he says, sighing dramatically and purposefully ignoring my anger. “How about just a kiss?”

“No.”

“It might help, you know.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.”

“Are you so sure? Your mother was gushing about you to me earlier. I take it that she doesn’t know of your preferences?”

By the Goddess, I want to punch him straight in his smug face. But I wonder if he has a point. He is now the third person to disclose my mother’s busy mouth this evening and I am now positive that they aren’t the only ones who got to hear all the talk about me. Worrying about stupid and unimportant things like suitors was on the bottom of my list right now. Maybe something subtle would be useful…

“...Fine.” I relent.

But I have to shove Ryleth’s face away as he leans in close. He frowns, looking akin to a hurt pup and all I can do is roll my eyes.

“It’s not going to help me if nobody sees.” I mutter, exasperated.

My fellow hunter merely nods and sweeps into a chivalrous bow that gestures for the door out of the storeroom. I snort and lead the way, trying not to look at the gossiping maids that watch as we spill back out into the hall with one another.

Ryleth takes me by the arm again, much to my chagrin, but I do not shrug him off. Together, we make our way back out into the banquet hall, ensuring that we move straight through the middle of the guests. A few heads turn as we pass. Good. When Ryleth stops short, I make a show of whirling around and letting the fabric of my gown flare with my movement.

“It’s been a pleasure, Lady Fayne.” he says with a low bow and a kiss to the back of my hand.

“Likewise, my lord.” I answer stiffly.

He straightens up and pulls me close. I can feel my heart racing and my face growing flush with heat, but for very different reasons. The only time I’ve ever kissed someone of the opposite sex was when I was a child and it felt wrong enough to never try it again. But I know there are eyes on us and voices whispering our names in hushed tones.

I swallow back a lump that has risen in my throat. Ryleth cups my face in both hands and I respond by squeezing my eyes shut nervously. Our lips do not meet, but rather, I feel his breath at my neck, moving hotly up to blow against my ear.

“Calm down. You can pretend I’m Thomasin, if you like.” Ryleth whispers, barely audible over the hum of noise around us.

Pretend he’s Thomasin? The notion is offensive at best and I hate him for having the gall to mention her name. Thomasin wasn’t that tall, wasn’t that old and certainly wasn’t a man. And yet, when I feel his thumb brush across my lip, that is where I force myself to go.

Our lips meet and I think of the first time I kissed her as she escorted me out to town one day. I remember it all, from the softness of her golden cloud of curls, to the smell of rain on stone in the alley we had hidden down. My heart aches for Thomasin so much that I do not notice the way I wrap my arms around Ryleth’s neck or part my mouth to accept his probing tongue.

My cheeks feel wet when he finally pulls back and I dare myself to open my eyes. I’m crying. Ryleth tries to give me an understanding smile, but I say nothing. I hurriedly wipe my tears on my arm and hurry to the upper wing of the manor where I can hide in the privacy of my bedroom.

Though I do not know why or even how, sometime during the night, I am visited by Thomasin.

She slips into my bed and holds me in silence. I can smell the vanilla that still remains on her skin from working in the kitchens. Through the silk of my nightgown, I can feel her bare flesh and the way her heart thumps against my back. She snuggles against my body, clinging tightly like a child afraid to leave their mother, but I do not roll over to look at her.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” I choke out, the words making my throat tighten with the threat of more tears. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Thomasin does not speak. She chooses to affectionately smooth her hand up along my arm, over my shoulder and into my hair. There, her fingers tangle into the slightly-curled tresses and I can hear the faint sound of her angelic voice as she hums.

“Can’t you say anything?” I plead with trembling resolve. “I know you’re not real, but… Please, just let me pretend.”

The humming stops suddenly and her hands grow still. The warmth of her skin melts away suddenly and I am left with a chill that freezes my very core. She breathes in my ear, only it’s not breathing at all. Thomasin is gurgling and a fleck of something wet hits my cheek. Upon touching my fingertips to it, I discover that it is blood, old and congealed and infected.

I can’t turn around. I won’t turn around. My heart beats so fast that I fear it will just stop at any moment. When I feel Thomasin’s hand move from my hair to hold my throat, I let out a strangled whimper but it is drowned out by the sound of an inhuman scream right in my ear.

“Fayne! Fayne?!”

The voice I hear is not Thomasin’s. My eyes snap open and at last, I find the will to turn around.

It is morning. Bits of sunlight flash between the gap in my velvet drapery, dancing along the walls and across the canopy of my bed. Thomasin - or whatever it was that had crawled into bed with me - is gone. Standing at my bedside is my sister.

Ilina looks concerned as she leans across the quilts and uses a corner of my linens to wipe away the beads of sweat that have formed on my forehead. I settle back against the pillows to catch my breath, closing my eyes and trying to rid myself of the images I’d just awoken from.

“Fayne, are you okay?” Ilina asks. “You sounded like you were crying.”

“I’m fine.” I assure her. “Bad dreams. ...What time is it?”

“Oh. Right…”

She looks nervous suddenly and glances hurriedly over her shoulder, then back to me. At first, I fear that something is wrong. But a wide, toothy grin spreads across Ilina’s face and gets to her feet with a coy expression.

“You should probably get ready.” she says in a sing-song tone.

I blink, utterly lost.

“Why?”

“Your boyfriend is here to take you out.”

 After almost injuring myself multiple times during a mad rush to make myself look somewhat presentable, I am not in a good mood. Ryleth, on the other hand, is more amused than I have ever seen him.

“You don’t look like you slept well, Fayne.” he mentions offhandedly. “I sure hope that you weren’t up all night, fantasizing about me.”

“Having nightmares, more like it.” I correct him.

“I must say, though, your parents seemed pretty pleased this morning.”

Though I admit it begrudgingly, he is right. When I had come stumbling down the stairs, my appearance thrown together and completely out of breath, I found my mother, stepfather and fellow hunter in the entrance hall making lively conversation. All three greeted me delightedly when they saw me and I had to hide the utter confusion and rage that I actually felt.

My mother was taken with my handsome ‘friend’ and tried to weasel confirmation on whether or not we kissed the night before, to which I laughed off and desperately avoided answering. Devran, meanwhile, already knew Ryleth well; both came from old families that earned their wealth through their individual trades in Naver.

There was some talk about the weather, with not-so-subtle comments on how romantic the changing of the seasons can be. It wasn’t until somebody made a joke about finally getting me to ‘settle down’ that Ryleth luckily excused us and said that there was something important he wanted to discuss with me. I leapt at the opportunity to make a hasty exit and when I looked back at my mother with her hands clasped ecstatically and my stepfather nodding in approval, I almost felt bad that I was deceiving them.

Almost.

“There better be a damn good reason for all this.” I warn Ryleth scornfully.

“Relax. I thought you wanted my help, remember?” he laughs. “If you want me to go asking around about this little plan of yours, I’m making you come along.”

I had thought that we were going to wait until the next hunt to put together our little group or at the very least, do it in secret during the dead of night. Walking brazenly throughout the busy kingdom streets without disguises was not something I was used to in the slightest.

As we stroll further away from my home, I begin to notice that we are heading into an area that is more tightly clustered together. Sturdy gray stone gives way to meager brick and the amount of people out and about has steadily grown in number. They watch as we pass them by, some looking at us suspiciously while a rare few tip their hats or offer smiles. I return the friendly gestures, but keep to myself and follow Ryleth as he leads me towards a set of houses all made from the same yellow bricks.

There are four doors in total, but only three are made from a plain brown wood. The fourth stands out the most, as it has been painted a spring green and was decorated with brushstrokes of flowers, vines and leaves. I look to my colleague for answers, but Ryleth only smiles and raps his knuckles across the surface of the wood in a sharp knock.

Muffled voices come from behind the walls. There’s some laughter and the sound of footsteps grow louder until the door swings open and we are face-to-face with a frighteningly large man that towers over both of us. He’s got a beard in the same color as his chestnut-colored hair and from the looks of the open collar of his worn tunic, his chest is covered in even more. His face is perpetually frozen into a hard and serious stare, which is only made more intimidating by the jagged scar that runs from his temple and down his jaw, ending at his neck. There’s a few more areas where his skin is visible beneath his clothes that also seems to be raked in scars, but I try not to stare at them for very long.

I step back to get a full look at him and though I cannot help it, I know that I look bewildered as I look this man up and down. Ryleth, meanwhile, is still smiling and he slaps me across the back to effectively shove me forward.

“Hey, Burdock!” he greets. “Listen, big guy, I need a moment of your time.”

The bearded behemoth grunts in response, but otherwise says nothing coherent to us. Ryleth does not look even remotely phased; he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, watching patiently as the titan he called Burdock steps back inside and then vanishes very briefly. The door then opens to its full width and we are invited into the most peculiar front room that I’ve ever laid eyes on.