Delph woke to find that the security measures he'd put in place the night before had failed him. Having come to the conclusion that despite his pleas, the Warlock would not consent to his sleeping in another room, a compromise of sorts had been reached. Delph was allowed to stack items between them on the bed to protect his honor; on the proviso that a length of cord knotted around his waist would alert the Warlock of his movements on the other side.

It was ridiculous. Everything surrounding Delph's capture had confounded him. Someone as practically minded as Fie would have quickly resolved to put paid to such nonsense, but Delph lacked his brother's conviction, and had somehow succumbed to the Warlock's madness.

Come the morning, the wall of chests, trunks, and ornately carved miscellany were not where Delph had left them; now piled neatly on the floor at the Warlock's side of the bed. The cord wrapped three times around the Warlock's wrist, he laid within touching distance, his bare torso rising and falling in shallow breaths.

Delph was scared to wake him; unable to loose the knot at his waist, but in desperate need to relieve his bladder. He'd held it too long. The cord stretched to its limit as Delph swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sought the floor with his stockinged feet. A tug as he landed, and the Warlock's wrist was pulled across to Delph's side of the bed. But the man himself did not stir.

"Um... excuse me Master Warlock," tried Delph, barely above a whisper, "Could you release me?"

Standing beside the bed, the pull of the cord becoming excruciatingly hard to bear in light of his growing discomfort, Delph was left with little choice but to wake him completely.

"Warlock!" he cried, with the authority of a man determined not to wet himself, "Untie me at once!"

Cord in hand, Delph violently jerked it; managing to give himself some slack but failing to rouse the Warlock. Beneath the bed he found a chamber pot, and swallowing his mortification, crouched out of sight and made quick use of it. The sounds rang louder than a rainstorm, even muffled beneath his thick and heavy dressing gown.

Delph would not forgive him for such an affront to his dignity. Hiding the evidence of his shame further under the bed, he stood, glowering red-faced at his sleeping captor.

"Hey!" shouted Delph, yanking the cord until the Warlock was almost hanging off the bed, "Warlock! Wake up and face me!"

He'd never known anyone sleep so heavy. In Delph's tug of war, the Warlock had rolled onto his front, making it much harder to determine whether he was still breathing. A fear began to creep in; that Delph was attached to a corpse. He'd only seen his father from a distance at the time of his passing, Fie and the doctor had taken care of things that he hadn't the heart to handle himself. Hekse Strahl had seemed like he was sleeping... 

A shaking hand reached towards the half naked Warlock, his dark hair spilling across the pillow and covering his face. Delph held his breath as he inched closer, but before he'd even laid a finger he could feel the heat coming from his body. Huh?

He was burning up. Delph touched a hand to his shoulder and felt the unnatural warmth of his skin.

"Warlock..?"

Smoothing the hair from his face, Delph mimicked what Fiepet had always done, laying a hand across the Warlock's forehead and comparing it with his own. Before they'd gone to sleep, the Warlock had voiced his concern that Delphin would fall ill after his dive into the river, and ensured he was tucked warmly beneath the covers on his side of the barricade. He'd seemingly taken no such care on his own account; refusing to clothe himself in the hopes that Delph might be seduced by his enviable physique.

Appearing quite passed out, Delph threw caution to the wind and began to unwrap the cord from around the Warlock's wrist. One loop undone, and it was pulled at once beneath the Warlock's body, Delph's hand with it. Even in the midst of his fever he knew its importance; there was a very big fish at the end of that rope, and he refused to let it get away.

"Warlock, are you awake?" asked Delph, trying to free his hand from the hot and clammy prison of the Warlock's smooth and knotted flesh. Was this what muscles felt like? It was oddly exciting to discover the firmness of the Warlock's body, but it was also getting uncomfortable the longer his hand was trapped.

Lying down beside him, Delph used his weight to roll the Warlock onto his back and free his hand; stretching his fingers as his gaze lingered on the broad chest that had pinned him. Flashy wardrobe and insanity aside, he wasn't wholly unattractive. Delph dismissed the thought as quickly as it came, hurrying to pull the covers up to the Warlock's chin.

He was making a second attempt at removing the cord from the Warlock's wrist when he heard a cautious knock on the door beyond the bedroom. Fiepet? No, he wouldn't have waited above a second before bursting in while the Warlock's guard was down. It was likely a servant. Considering his rather questionable appearance, tied to the topless Warlock and wearing the master's nightclothes; Delph chose not to answer them.

"Well..?"

Gris had been waiting for the little housemaid she sent to check on the master in the safety of the second hallway. The palace staff had been catching forty winks in shifts, expectantly waiting for orders that never came. Eventually, there'd been a general consensus that the Chamber Head should make inquiries regarding the master's needs. Gris had agreed, until reaching the top of the staircase and chickening out.

"No reply when I knocked," the housemaid told her, "And I thank Jophis that there wasn't. I wouldn't have known what to do had the Warlock asked me what I wanted."

"A simple 'Does the Master require breakfast?' would have sufficed," reasoned Gris, "But we're still none the wiser."

"You don't... you don't want me to try again, do you?" asked the terrified maid.

"No, no. Go on then! Off you go and see to your duties!" Had it been Hen, she might well have bullied her into making another attempt. Not every member of staff was as agreeable as her favorite.

Hands on her hips as she considered what else to try, Gris was on the verge of finding a hiding place to fall asleep, when she heard footsteps ascending the staircase. Worried that the Counsel's guest had come once more to cause trouble, her cares vanished all at once when she peeked out to see who it was. 

"Hen!"

Disheveled and pale, her face betraying the exhaustion that had come with not sleeping on the long journey home, Gris was satisfied enough to see her standing on two legs.

"I am glad that you are come," she told her, "Yes you look well indeed! Quite recovered from your illness. Quite, quite well!"

Ignoring her lie, Hen wiped her eyes and straightened the uniform she'd hurriedly changed into upon her return. The closer she got to the palace, the more excited she'd become to see Lyre's doll. It was the only way she could think of to speak with her missing friend, and yet when at last she reached her quarters, the room was found empty.

At least there was still a chance to find Delph.

"Has the Warlock requested anything?" asked Hen.

Gris shook her head.

"Not even for his guest..?"

The staff had begun to suspect that they'd imagined the bulge beneath the Warlock's cloak the previous night. One sleep-deprived footman had even gone so far as to suggest their master had grown a long blonde beard by magical means.

"We've only received word that the Counsel has two," explained Gris, "Nothing's come from the Warlock's quarter regarding an extra head to be served."

"Who is staying with the Counsel?" asked Hen.

"A liveried upstart and a quiet hulking wretch is all I could tell you. The former came banging on the Warlock's door last night and was granted a room in the Counsel's wing for his trouble."

It was likely Fiepet Strahl. Though if he left without a fight then it was unlikely he found his brother concealed in the Warlock's chambers. She would have to look for herself.

"I've just had a thought," said Gris rather unconvincingly, "Since you're here and all, and there's likely to be clothes that the Warlock needs sent to launder, perhaps you could ask if there's anything he wants while collecting up his things?"

"I think I could do that," offered Hen.

"Oh, good! Yes, good. Well I'll be sorting things downstairs so be sure to come and find me," said Gris, happily skipping off to inform Batt that she'd skillfully taken care of everything.

A heavy sigh, and the tired Mistress Hen prepared herself to stealthily enter the lion's den, and try to rescue the lamb before it was eaten. She feared she was far too late, and that the sweet and innocent Delphin Strahl may have already been devoured. 

Carefully pushing open the door to the Warlock's reception room, Hen was struck by the mess. She had never seen the chambers in such disarray; as though a hurricane had blown through them. Even in the Warlock's darkest moments of despair, she had never witnessed such chaos in the Velvet Palace.

Had they fought..? Had the Master cornered the witch and left him with no choice but to defend himself? She clutched a hand to her chest. Even without Lyre and her magic to help her, she would steel every shred of courage and save Delphin Strahl. Taking a jeweled letter opener from the Warlock's marble desk, she stepped towards the bedroom door.

There'd been no sound to warn her, but as the door was opened into another untidy room, she would never have expected to find Delph as she did; standing on the bed over an unconscious Warlock, his hands at his waist as he shimmied his hips back and forth.

"Master Delphin..?"

Delph froze, glanced towards the sleeping Warlock at his feet, and immediately shook his head. "I wasn't being strange," he told her, "There's a cord at my waist!"

A wave to usher her towards him, Delph climbed down to meet her in the carpet of detritus surrounding the bed. 

"Is he dead..?" asked Hen of the Warlock.

"Ill it would seem," Delph replied, "But not so much as to let me loose the binds he holds. His grip is like that of an owl."

Unwilling to release his prey, thought Hen, lest he should starve without it.

A swift cut from the letter opener in her hand, and Delphin Strahl was free. Hen was ready to lead him from the palace, to drape her cloak of travel about his neck and drag him into hiding, that they might formulate some kind of plan. The captive had other ideas.

"I need some water," he informed her, "And some kind of cloth. Could you help me find them?"

"Um. Yes, of course if that is what you wish. But should we not first leave the palace and look for them elsewhere? I've been given to understand that your brother is here in the Counsel's wing. Perhaps he could aid in our escape."

"Later," said Delph, determined to make himself useful, and worried what the Warlock would do to Fie should he find them absent, "The water first."

"Have you much experience?" asked Hen as she handed him the basin, "Taking care of a patient?"

"I've been a patient myself," confided Delph, "So I know what I ought to do. I think it best you go and find him some food." Delph's stomach grumbled. "Find us some food," he corrected, "And I should be done with my task by the time you return."

Hen was confused. Wasn't he frightened? What had the Warlock done in the space of an evening that had allayed Delph's fears?

"Are you sure?" she asked him, "There are doctors can be called to take your place. You need not go so far as to nurse him. If you wanted to leave, he would not go entirely uncared for."

The Warlock's furrowed brow was soaked in sweat, his hand still gripping the useless cord. He looked pitiful; a lonely child, with the only attention he received amounting to the unanswered knock of the servants. Delph had no plans to marry him, but his conscience demanded that he stay. It was likely to have been his own river soaked body that made the Warlock sick.

"Has he no family to tend him?"

Hen shook her head and dropped to a whisper. "The last of the Master's family did not escape Hofingrad. Not even the Counsel is likely to visit his chambers."

"Then I will help him," offered Delph, eager to prove his capabilities even to himself, "And... you can help me in turn. Fiepet cannot know that I am here; he would come and take me away at once, and there's no telling how the Warlock might retaliate."

Common sense would dictate that that alone was a good enough reason to run while they had the chance.

"You will stay here in secret?" Hen confirmed.

"Only until he is better. I always had Fiepet in my times of need, but the Warlock... he has no one."

"Are you not scared of what he might do" asked Hen, "While the two of you are alone?"

"As to that," Delph told her proudly, "I have a plan."