His eyes glowed a gentler blue when he opened them again.

“Until our mutual debts have been settled, you may live here. But I advise against leaving this place alone.”

“You’re letting me stay? In your house?” I gaped, unable to decide between outrage and confusion.

“Unfortunately. Do you find that disagreeable?”

Valerien’s face was hard to read — curious, perhaps, but also wary. He regarded me closely like one would an unfamiliar plant or animal. I suppose we had that in common: despite his beauty, it felt like I was speaking to a particularly well-dressed rock.

“No, I suppose I don’t. Will I be able to return home?”

“Why would you? You are needed here, where we can work on improving your ability like we discussed.” 

”So you’re saying I can’t leave?” 

Valerien frowned, “You are not my prisoner. I can take you back to your world if it pleases you, but you would need to provide a good reason for wasting my time.” 

I lowered my head in acceptance — and annoyance. 

“Fine.” 

I was about to thank him when I remembered Grandmother told me not to. How did faeries express gratitude? Did they do favors for each other back and forth until they lost count of who owed who, or did they not express it at all? Most importantly: why was I trying to thank him? I’d better smother this habit as quickly as possible. 

I suppressed a yawn. My head felt dull and heavy.

“Briar will show you to your bedroom.” 

Just as Valerien finished his sentence, the door opened and the gnome peeked inside like she’d been waiting for her orders. I stood up and grabbed my weapons. Glancing down at the lounging elf, I paused. He looked bored, not at all intimidated by the fact that I was now armed to the teeth. 

“You seemed bothered when I said my name means ‘little star.’ Why was that?” I wondered. 

He tilted his head to the side, looked me up and down slowly as if making sure every limb was where it was supposed to be. I couldn’t tell whether he was suspicious or intrigued — didn’t know whether I should feel cautious or flattered. 

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with right now, Sidra.”

Figuring that was all I was going to get from the shifty bastard, I scoffed and followed Briar out of the room. 

Briar took me up a narrow, spiraling staircase to the third and final floor of the mansion. It led us to a smaller hall, though this one wasn’t quite as dusty and forgotten as the rest of this place, and the tall window to our right looked like it’d been recently scrubbed clean. This hall had only a few doors and a small sitting area under the window, with an ancient bookshelf beside it. 

Briar fished out a large key from a pouch and had to stand on her toes to unlock the door closest to the window.

“Here is your bedchamber. That door is to Valerien’s bedroom and you don’t go in there, ever. Unless he invites you, but he won’t. If you need anything, pull the rope by the bed.”

Despite the shortness of her legs, Briar was remarkably fast, and soon her footsteps disappeared downstairs. She may have blinked out of existence, or perhaps transformed into something quieter, assuming gnomes had the same shapeshifting powers as the high fae. 

As selfish as it was, I realized I needed a moment of solitude, and that empty room was far too inviting to resist. I walked inside and closed the door behind me.

The first thing that struck me was its size. It was a large, brightly lit chamber with all three windows standing open to let in the late autumn air. Despite this, the space felt gloomy and eerily silent, like every sound was muffled, though that was probably thanks to the thick carpet and the numerous large paintings hanging on the walls. The dark wooden furniture was old but well-kept.

Nobody had lived here for ages, that much was evident, yet the four-poster bed was newly made. I didn’t want to think of how long Valerien had been preparing for my arrival and convinced myself this was simply a guest room.

I climbed onto the bed, finding it too big and too soft. Not that I had any right to preferences; I couldn’t even remember the last decent sleep I’d had.

After putting my weapons under the bed, I grabbed Grandmother’s dagger and clutched it tightly beneath the pillows. I’d first enjoyed the silence of this room, but now, lying in a bed that felt like it would swallow me …

I felt smaller than my own body, shrinking with every breath, and wished I hadn’t been given a room so far away from the other residents of this mansion. I had nothing but myself left.

No, why was I whining? I could’ve died five times over at this point. 

I closed my eyes and attempted to relax. It didn’t work. My back remained stiff and my fingers gripped the hilt of the dagger so tightly I couldn’t feel them anymore.  

I knew I should rest after having been through all that … And yet, it was as if the relative safety had finally calmed me enough to realize what I’d been through in these last few days. At least when I was fearing for my life I didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on anything.

Every time I blinked I saw the wild, empty stare of the horse in the water, heard the cruelty in the troll king’s laugh, remembered the hunger in the pixie mother’s eyes, the nausea caused by Severin’s sickly sweet smile ... And in the low whistle of the wind outside, I heard Sinead’s screams echo through the walls. 

It was my fault.

I hid my face in my hands out of shame, though there was no one around to witness it. 

Something was wrong. I felt it like sickness in my bone marrow, threatening to spill out when I finally cracked. Room too quiet, thoughts too loud, tears in my throat and hands trembling as they grasped for nothing.

Slowly, I sat up. Slowly, I took the pillow. Slowly, I pressed my face into the fabric, and slowly, I unraveled. First it was a whine, then a scream, then a wail, tears and snot pressing out of my eyes and nose and into the feathers. I shook and gasped and hiccuped, making sounds I had never thought myself capable of. 

No, not true. When mother died, I’d cried like this, too. But who had died? Nobody had died, not yet. I would find Sinéad, wouln’t I? I had to find Sinéad. There was no time for grief. No time for whatever this wretched feeling was that gripped and shook me like a fatal fever. 

But I didn’t want to be here. Every part of my being begged me to go home. I longed for my own bed in the human world where I could pull the covers over my head and forget anything that happened, where I could forget my mistake and Sinéad’s disappearance and crawl back into the woods to rot in peace. A coward deserving a coward’s death. A pathetic waste of space who would rather save her own skin than save her sister, finally made useful as fertilizer. 

I struggled to breathe through the soaked pillow and my stuffy nose. My limbs were weak, my hands trembled, but I needed air, so I crawled out of the bed and over to the windows. Part of me wondered if this was high enough.

I gripped the windowsill, digging my nails into the wood until it groaned in protest. I breathed, deep and fast, in through the nose and out through the mouth, until it felt like the cold air had cleansed my being. Until I was cool and calm and numb again. 

Once I was back in the bed, I sank into a fresh pillow, and lay there still as a corpse, all energy drained out of me along with the pain.

Striking a deal with Valerien had been lucky. If I hadn’t, I’d have been on my way home by now, or worse. Running away. Accepting defeat. Now, at least my promise to him would force me to stay here, and face whatever was coming.

Very short chapter due to Tapas character limits again, but fret not! I'll be posting another short chapter (the bit that was supposed to be in this episode) tomorrow to make up for it! <3