“Ellanor! How wonderful to see you, I do apologize for my absence.” Duchess Yvet strode up to Ellanor by the doors to the dining hall and grasped her hands, claws freshly filed and painted.

Ellanor smiled a pleasant and courtly smile. “I hope your trip was pleasant? We did not expect you back for another couple of days.”

“Oh!” Yvet exclaimed. “Yes, I was planning on prolonging my stay because of this Mother awful weather, but I could not bear the thought of leaving a guest alone here with my dreadful brother.” She hooked her elbow through Ellanor’s and patted her arm. “I hope Tor did not bore your mind with his history lessons and worldly fascinations.”

Ellanor truly smiled at that. “Well, he did bring me along to Water Edge temple.”

Yvet rolled her eyes and sighed. “I swear I need to be around to manage everything around here. Please, take a seat.” She led Ellanor to a chair by the already set table.

“Where is the Duke?” A third place was set for him but he was nowhere to be seen.

Yvet took up a seat at the head of the table. “Late, as usual. He was less thrilled to see me back early.” She took a sip of her wine and added with a smirk, “Probably up to no good.”

Ellanor forced a smile, but her gut tightened. The servants under the castle had rushed to clear away the food they had been given and get back to their chores, believing they had another day or so before Yvet returned. What had the Duke been up to when his sister had suddenly returned?

As in answer the doors opened and Dalton stepped in, dressed as pristinely as ever. He met Ellanor’s gaze and she saw the stress behind his eyes, noted the tightness in his wings. Clearing his throat he walked up to his place and sat.

“I am sorry I am late,” Dalton said with a nod to his sister and Ellanor.

“Old habits,” was all Yvet commented back, instead turning to Ellanor. “Please eat, now that we are all present,” she smiled.

As they were served by avvir staff, Ellanor asked, “Yvet, how was your trip?”

Dalton looked thankful as the Duchess’ voice filled the silence.

“Oh, it was wonderful,” Yvet began. “I have not seen Lady Miranda Cowel in ages, quite literary, and her estate is as beautiful as ever. She had a spa built in the west wing, and she spoiled me thoroughly, I tell you–”

How a two day long trip can be summed up in an hour of constant speaking Ellanor had no idea, but as long as it kept the Duchess distracted it was welcomed. It was not a surprise when Daltong finished his food first and excused himself from the table. Yvet did not even bother to look up, just waved her hand in dismissal and kept on talking. With a bow, mostly in Ellanor’s direction, the Duke turned and left out the door.

“Anyhow, with him gone would you want to have dessert in–” Yvet was interrupted by a loud crash from the corridor. The guards by the doors rushed out in the hall on full alert, hands grabbing for their swords. Murmured apologies followed the tumult. Panic rose in Ellanor as she recognized the voice.

“What in the Mother’s name is going on out there?” Yvet called. When no one answered she huffed and got out of her chair. Ellanor followed at her heels, heart in her throat.

The scene they met out in the corridor was less chaotic than it had sounded, but just as terrifying. Dalton was standing over a smashed vase spewed over the carpeted floor, face pale as ash as he met Ellanor’s eyes. The two castle guards were standing in front of him, but their attention was fixed upon the floor where a servant was cleaning up the mess–

Aeleon kept his stare glued at the shards of porcelain as he picked them up with a slight tremble in his hands.

Yvet bared her teeth in a snarl when she noticed the man hunched over on the floor. “What is a human doing in my castle?” she demanded, tail whipping behind her.

“Sister, it was I who broke the vase–”

“Hush, Tor,” Yvet snapped, wings flaring. Dalton lowered his head, defeat shining in his eyes. Ellanor recalled then what Aeleon had said just hours before.

He wouldn’t dare cross his sister in public if push came to shove.

Yvet walked up to Aeleon still on his knees on the floor. Her face was twisted with disgust as she stopped at the edge of the mess of flowers and shards.

“You – stand up.”

Aeleon did as told, leaving the porcelain in a neat pile on the floor. Standing, even hunched over, he was a good decimeter taller than the Duchess. This did not stop Yvet from looking down her nose at him. “You are the one Clados told me about – Aeleon, is it?” Aeleon knew better than to talk back, instead dipping his chin. Yvet pursed her lips and continued, “She told me you have been seen around our guest’s room more than once, as well as interacting with Ellanor’s slave girl.” She turned toward Ellanor. “Anything you know about, Madam?”

The use of Ellanor’s formal title might as well have been a slap to the face, but Ellanor did not let it irk her, keeping her face neutral. She scrambled for something to say, some excuse to give that would save her brother from a most certain death. “Come to think of it,” Ellanor drawled as she walked up beside Yvet, “Tara did mention a man that had grabbed her attention after you sent her below the castle.” She made a show of studying Aeleon. He did not as much as stiffen under her gaze. “She has been trying to convince me to buy him from you, as a matter of fact.” Swallowing her panic she politely bobbed her head as she turned to Yvet. “With your permission, of course.”

The Duchess raised an eyebrow and for a moment Ellanor thought it was over, but then Yvet hummed. “This one?” she asked. “Humans do have peculiar taste I suppose.”

Ellanor snorted in agreement. “Not a lot of options home at Skyward for her I am afraid,” she said, feeling more comfortable in her lie. “I have never seen her so… infatuated.”

Yvet made a face, as if she repelled the mere thought of it. “Very well. I cannot see how you would want to own something so clumsy,” she said with a sniff. “But alas, it will be less messy to sell him to you than having him executed.” She turned on her heel, guards falling into place behind her. “Tor can handle the paperwork. I do not feel like dessert any longer.” With a final good night she was gone.

Ellanor loosened a breath, Dalton slumping against the wall. The only one who did not relax was Aeleon, his shoulders stiff, head still bowed. Ellanor reached out her hand toward him, but thought better of it and instead folded them in front of her.

It was Dalton who finally spoke. “We need to move fast before she changes her mind.” He nodded the wall across from him, no doubt a door hidden there. “Aeleon, go to Dorethy and pack what you own. Lay low until someone comes to get you. Ellanor, we will go to my office and make the purchase official. It will keep Yvet at bay for a while.”

Aeleon gave a confirming nod and turned to the wall where a panel indeed folded away to reveal a narrow door. Before he disappeared through it he turned to Ellanor.

“Thank you,” he said, still not meeting her eyes. Then he too was gone.