‘Out of all times, why did you die now? At least wait for the dry season!’

  The rainy season had only just begun, and it couldn’t have been a worse time for her father to die. Hadassah dragged her feet through the soaked grasslands, shivering in the tongue-biting cold. She had left with barely any clothing to keep her warm, and as much as she liked to think she was heading north, she had no idea where she was going. With no clear direction and no knowledge of how far she still had to go, she could only keep moving, trudging through the mud that reached up to her ankles and relentless rain that hindered her field of view.

  It had been a week, and she had survived on nothing but puddles of rainwater that seemed clean enough to drink. Today she hadn’t even been walking for a few hours before her body begged her to stop.

  Sleep had been non-existent, the downpour was too heavy, and the cold too strong for her body to ignore. There was nothing in these open plains to build a shelter—no trees, no decent cover, no dried hay. She had tried to hunt for rabbits, but her attempts had been pitiful. She hadn’t realised just how much the fae had helped her back in Valdemar until now.

  She used to think herself a competent hunter; if she wanted to eat pork, she was always able to shoot down a boar. Now she was beginning to understand the boar was probably distracted by the fae, or at least they slowed it down enough for her to kill easily.

  Huddled beneath the crumbling remains of some old ruins, she collapsed under the partial shelter of a stone arch. The relief from the constant battering of rain did little to ease her discomfort, but at least it was something. Her body wasn’t built for this, and though she wanted to keep going, her limbs were weak, her muscles ached, and her temperature had spiked—her body was losing the battle to keep warm.

  No wood for a fire. No food. No clean water. She could do nothing but sit in the bone-chilling cold and hope the rain let up long enough for her to keep going.

  “As expected, I shouldn’t have let you go.”

  She didn’t know when he had approached, and at first she could not remember who he was. Her mind was hazy, her eyelids too heavy to open fully, and her breaths were shallow and laboured as though no amount of air could fill her lungs. She was shaking, and despite curling in on herself, she couldn’t keep warm.

  The man crouched down in front of her, his cold palm pressing against her feverish forehead.

  “You’re sick.”

  Hadassah tried to focus, her vision blurry, barely making out his leather boots and cotton pants. A loose blouse and vest, no luggage or belongings in sight. Pale hair, pale skin—but no tail this time.

  He lifted his left hand, the pink band she had left with him glistening on his bony wrists. He pressed a small pill to her lips, and this time she didn’t resist. She swallowed it without protest.

  The immediate warmth and healing from the deep sea pearl brought such immense relief that tears welled up in her eyes. Her body relaxed, the tension melting away like frost when exposed to the burning sun. Without a word, he turned around, pulling her arms over his shoulders and lifting her soaked, lifeless body onto his back. She remained motionless as he carried her out into the rain. It took her a moment to register that, despite the downpour, neither of them was getting wet. The rain seemed to stop just before reaching them, as though an invisible shield had formed around them.

  His body wasn’t particularly warm, but compared to hers, it felt like a furnace. She was incredibly grateful, even if it meant she was now indebted to him yet again.

  He continued walking, carrying her on his back, but she noticed he had changed direction, veering off to the right instead of continuing straight ahead.

  “I need to go north,” she croaked.

  “I know. This is north,” he replied.

  “I see,” she whispered, realising she had indeed been heading in the wrong direction all along.

  She wanted to laugh but was too weak to manage it; instead, a half-amused rasp escaped her, catching his attention. He glanced over his shoulder.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing; I just thought it was funny.”

  “Funny?”

  Her eyes drifted closed, letting his steady strides lull her. “How incompetent I am.”

  “Well, I don’t know if funny is the word. Incompetent people die easily on land, dying doesn’t sound very fun.”

  “Hmm… your clothes smell nice,” she mumbled.

  There was a pause before he responded. “I got them from a merchant. I thought they were pretty good quality.”

  ‘He got them? Or compelled the merchant to hand them over?’ she wondered silently.

  “I need new clothes,” she added. If he was going around stealing clothes, he might as well steal some for her, too.

  “Alright, I’ll get you some. Try and sleep.”

  “Alright.”

  ˋ?-?-?ˊ

  When she regained awareness, she found herself in a warm bed, in a dry, cosy room, wrapped in a soft lavender patchwork quilt. For a moment, she didn’t want to wake up, thinking it might all be a dream. Maybe if she stayed asleep, she would hear her father’s flute and be back home again.

  “Are you awake, dear?”

  That wasn’t a voice she recognised. Her heart tensed with weariness, but she forced herself to push through the haze of sleep, reaching across her chest for her baldric, instinctively searching for a dagger—only to find nothing. Before panic set in, she realised the voice belonged to a rabbit standing by the fireplace.

  Large, brown ears framed her kind face. She stood on her hind legs, her body caught in an awkward in-between form—neither fully human-like nor entirely beast. Sparse patches of fur dotted her skin, and her hands, though human-like, were furless. This was the first time seeing a beast man for herself outside Ahqi, and although she found it strange, she quickly adjusted.

  ‘This must be the form she’s most comfortable in,’ Hadassah thought. “Sorry, who are you?” Her voice was hoarse, her throat dry.

  The elderly rabbit woman gave her a warm smile, the sort of smile a mother might offer. Her dress was worn, her apron stained with watermarks with tears at the corners.

  “I’m the innkeeper. Your partner asked me to take care of you since he couldn’t.”

  “Thank you. I think I’m alright now.” She wanted the stranger out of her room, she did not feel comfortable waking up to her at all.

  The woman smiled again, a gentle, reassuring gesture. “This is a brown rabbit settlement. As long as you stay indoors, you’ll be fine. Don’t worry, no bloodhounds will come here.”

  Hadassah buried her confusion; she did not understand the warning but would take it into account nonetheless. “Thank you,” she repeated.

  The woman nodded, carrying away a basket of Hadassah’s wet clothes. Only then did Hadassah notice she was wearing a long, baggy dress, like a nightgown. By the fireplace, resting on a wooden chair with a red cushion, was a set of fresh clothes laid out for her.

  She got out of bed and took in the simple room. A small window by her bed let in the sunlight, and in front of it stood a round table with a basin of water, a wooden comb, and some chewing sticks. Her fingers traced the edge of the basin, and she caught a glimpse of her reflection. Her hair was a mess again, tangled beyond belief, and she knew the comb would snap if she tried using it.

  With a resigned sigh, she dragged the chair from the fireplace over to the table. She had no choice. It was time to sort out her hair.

  ˋ?-?-?ˊ

  Ahqi found it odd.

  The innkeeper had clearly told him Hadassah was awake, and he had been waiting downstairs for her to come down, perhaps looking for him. But an hour passed, then another, and still, no sign of her. He considered the possibility that she was dead and decided to check on her, just to be sure she was still alive.

  He knocked on the door, and there was an immediate response, “Come in.”

  She was clearly awake and alert, so why was she still upstairs?

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  Opening the door, he found her sitting at the other end of the room, turning to see who had entered. She was wearing the loose nightgown he’d found for her, and she appeared to be finishing a small braid. Actually, she had already braided half her hair into tiny, string-like braids, with the rest still left to do.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

  “Doing my hair. You know what a braid is, right?”

  “I know that,” he said, eyeing the small braids. “But why are you making them so tiny?”

  “The smaller they are, the longer they last. Now, are you going to help me or not?”

  He thought about it for a moment. The idea of spending hours braiding her hair didn’t appeal to him in the slightest. He’d much rather go outside and explore the village. “It looks tedious. I don’t want to.”

  “Shut the door and come help me, or I’ll fillet you and roast you like the pretty fish you are,” she said, her tone light, almost casual, but her words sent a chill down his spine.

  Maybe he really should be more wary of strangers.

  By the time he finished the last braid, Ahqi’s delicate fingers were red and sore. Hadassah looked at her reflection in the basin and seemed pleased with his handiwork. “You’re actually good at this.”

  Normally, he would have welcomed the praise, but not today. He was not happy about being roped into such tedious manual labour. The fact that he, a Celestial prince, had been forced to braid a rabbit girl’s hair—it was unthinkable. He felt aggrieved, and it showed plainly on his face.

  “Why? Are you upset I made you help?” Hadassah asked, noticing the way he sulked, as though she had wronged him in some unspeakable way.

  “Yes.”

  ‘You are way too easy to bully,’ she thought, feeling both exasperated and just a little bit amused.

  “Go away; I don’t want to see you.” She said, waving him off before her amusement became irritation.

  “Is that how you say thank you?” he retorted.

  “You’re right!” she said, clapping her hands. “Where are my manners? Thank you, oh great Celestial!” She gave an exaggerated, dramatic bow, expecting him to be angry. Instead, he laughed. Even his laugh was beautiful; ‘this is deeply disturbing.’ She thought it was monstrous to be so beautiful. No wonder wars had been waged in their honour.

  “Hateful girl!” Ahqi said between laughs. “You’ve got a lot of guts!” When his laughter finally subsided, he wiped his eyes and sighed. “Fine, I concede this time, but you cannot make me do such a laborious task again.”

  Hadassah rolled her eyes. As if there would even be a next time. “By the way,” she began, picking up her clothes from the table and heading towards the bed. “I owe you for saving my life again, don’t I?”

  Ahqi lifted his chin, clearly pleased with himself. “Of course, but I am benevolent, so I won’t—wait, stop! Stop!”

  Hadassah paused, looking up from loosening her nightgown, confused by his sudden outburst. His face had turned beet red, and he was pointing at her like she’d committed some unspeakable crime.

  “What?” she asked, her patience already wearing thin.

  He stammered, unsure of what to say. How was he the one embarrassed here? “Are you not female? Why are you undressing?!”

  “Oh.” She blinked, unfazed. She hadn’t realised changing in front of someone was such a big deal. “Turn around then.”

  He jerked his head back, looking scandalised, and stiffly turned around, crossing his arms. “How indecent,” he muttered.

  She raised an eyebrow but decided to ignore his theatrics. “So, what do I owe you?” she asked as she slipped into the pants he had bought for her, followed by the long-sleeved top, before strapping on her vest and baldric.

  “As I was saying before you began that indecent act! I am magnanimous, and I will spare you your debt!” he declared with exaggerated pride.

  She stared at him, sweat-dropping. Was he serious? “So, I can leave then, right?”

  “Naturally, you can leave!” He suddenly stopped as if he had said the wrong thing. “But if I don’t go with you, I fear you will end up dead!” He stumbled over his words quickly as if had only just thought of what to say next.

  Her eye twitched. “I’m done changing, you can turn around.”

  “I’m fine like this,” he said, still facing away.

  “If I throw this dagger, you’ll die immediately,” she threatened, an empty threat, but he bought it.

  He promptly turned around, still grumbling about her lack of decorum. She sighed; this was the first time meeting someone who only responded to threats. “You’re such a kid,” she muttered under her breath.

  Unfortunately for her, his hearing was too good for him to miss her little remark. “If I’m a child, then you are barely a fetus!” he shot back in a snippy tone.

  “Yeah, right,” she deadpanned. He might be older, but he certainly didn’t act like it. “So, I don’t owe you anything?”

  He nodded firmly. “The bracelet is worth more than your life, so I will take you north before I return home.”

  “You’re going home?”

  “Of course I am!” he answered confidently.

  She looked him up and down, scepticism all over her face. He looked like a runaway prince; he still had the string of teardrop-shaped jewels flowing along with his hair; there was no way no one was searching for him.

  “Go home now, then.” She said, lacing up her boots, she had better things to do than entertain him. “Don’t come with me. Your parents must be looking for you,” He stiffened immediately, his reaction noticeable from the corner of her gaze.

  ‘You’re a terrible liar,’ she thought to herself; she just knew he had a stupid, dejected look in his eyes. She sighed, and relented. “Fine, you can come with me.”

  His face lit up with a dazzling smile, and she quickly turned away for the sake of her own sanity. “Please stop smiling. Thank you.”

  Taking a look out through her window, a small smile graced her face. “Should we go outside?” Sure, the skies were grey and the wind was chilling to her bones, but yet she had never seen so many beastmen before; her curiosity was ravenous.

  Ahqi had taken her to the Brown Rabbit Tribe—or at least one of their many, many settlements. Of all the beastmen, the rabbits were the most numerous, and most of their communities were strictly vegetarian, which was unfortunate for Hadassah, who had a particular fondness for pork. Ahqi, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the food more than she did, his excitement overshadowing hers. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was his first time running away from home, and if so, what sludge was he eating under the sea to see these raw vegetables as delicacies? She pitied him; if he ever tasted her pork, he would ascend to the heavens and become a Seer.

  They ate at a shop that solely sold food. At first, Hadassah wasn’t sure what to make of it, but after being told she could order anything from a list of options, she found the idea ingenious. She ordered whatever caught her eye, and Ahqi, who seemed to have a limitless pocket, paid for it all. It pleased her—especially since she hadn’t brought any shells with her and was unwilling to part with the gold arm guard she had.

  “This is quite wonderful. Do you have something like this in Nerissa?” She asked Ahqi, who was busy stuffing his face.

  “Hmm, we do, but it’s not as good as this. I don’t like it as much. But our nectar is second to none!”

  Hadassah reached for the goblet filled with a deep red liquid. This was the famous nectar, made from sweet fruit. She liked it though it made her feel a bit nauseous.

  “Is Nerissa as beautiful as they say in the books? I’ve read it’s breathtaking, but it’s a shame land creatures aren’t allowed to visit.” Some tribes, like the Celestials, kept their borders closed, so no one could go in or out. For them, it made sense—not everyone could survive underwater, and beastmen stumbling into Nerissa had been a cause of contention in the past.

  Ahqi nodded, taking a large gulp of nectar to wash down his food. “Nerissa is the most beautiful city. Well, maybe Orlaith is more beautiful, but it’s not really a city.”

  He spoke so proudly of his home that the inevitable question arose. “So why are you running away? How do you get bored in a place that’s so pretty?”

  “Oh, that?” Ahqi waved dismissively. “I just got tired of seeing my father’s face. I swear, if I have to look at his red hair one more time, I’ll lose my mind.”

  Hadassah didn’t know if she should be appalled or not. Here she was wishing for her father to come back, while Ahqi was running away from his. “He must be an awful person,” she said, trying to justify it.

  “No, not really. He’s a great king.”

  ‘Then why are you here?’ she thought, rubbing her temple, deciding to drop the topic.

  But Ahqi wasn’t done. “What about you? Why are you here?”

  His question was casual, and she should’ve been able to answer, but the words ‘my father is dead’ refused to leave her lips.

  So she said nothing, taking another drink, hoping this moment would pass and the ache in her heart would fade.

  Ahqi didn’t press her.

  She didn’t need to explain herself for him to understand.

  When they finished eating, they wandered through the busy streets. Rabbits were natural merchants, and the high streets were lined with shops and stalls at every corner. This had to be a prime trading hub; there was no other explanation for the sheer number of beastmen—foxes, hounds, sheep. Mostly low-grade beasts, so the atmosphere was relaxed. Hadassah marvelled at the bustling market, not noticing the curious glances directed at her. She had failed to realise that she wasn’t exactly the norm. Beasts in fully human forms were rare, only seen among nobles or half-castes. Luckily for her, Ahqi’s presence, with his clear peerless beauty, made onlookers assume she was with him.

  They arrived at the square where music played from instruments she had never seen before. Her gaze stopped on a particular harp, its body crafted from a near-translucent material that shimmered like pearl dust.

  “You’ve got a good eye,” Ahqi remarked, noticing her interest. “That’s a sea harp. Probably the most beautiful instrument you’ll ever find. Anything we make is beautiful. It’s in our nature.”

  She barely heard the last part, dismissing it as unnecessary self-praise. She had turned her focus to the dancers twirling in pairs at the centre of the square. An unfamiliar urge stirred in her—she wanted to join them, though she had never danced before.

  Ahqi noticed and raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to join them? You should. I can’t imagine someone like you being shy.”

  She shot him a glare.

  How was she supposed to dance when she’d never learned how to? “I can’t dance.”

  “Ah.”

  He fell silent for a moment, then extended his hand towards her. “Then dance with me. I’m pretty good—with a tail and with legs.”

  Hadassah hesitated, staring down at his outstretched fingers. Her own hands were calloused, something she hadn’t noticed until now, and the thought of placing them in his made a prickling sense of humiliation creep up her spine. But before she could decide, he reached for her hand and took it, pulling her into the circle.

  Her heart sank in fear as his hands clasped around hers. She closed her eyes briefly, fighting the urge to pull away, but she forced them open again, refusing to give in to her instinct.

  “Focus on me,” his voice came softly, drawing her gaze upward. When she met his eyes—those bright, clear blue eyes—she felt momentarily mesmerised. They were so striking, like pieces of jade, and for a moment, she forgot her discomfort. She didn’t even notice when his hand slid securely around her waist, guiding her as they spun seamlessly into the rhythm of the dancers. The notes of the sea harp sounded like silk weaving through air, wrapping around her body and pulling her mind in all directions. It made her senses light up in pure delight, her body felt as though it were melting into the notes. Such beautiful music was enough to override her inhibitions and unleash the joy stored deep in her heart.

  It was exhilarating.

  She had never known this was what dancing could feel like. Ahqi was an excellent dancer, so her initial fears melted away immediately, and laughter bubbled up in her chest. She let out a delighted squeal as he lifted her effortlessly, just as the other men in the group did with their partners, placing her back down before continuing the dance. Her heart felt light, soaring, and for the first time in what felt like ages, she could see the beauty of the world around her so clearly.

  Even if it was just for that moment.

  The final notes of the sea harp hung in the air, and with one last whirl, Ahqi brought her to a graceful stop. He let go of her waist but didn’t release her hand, gently pulling her out of the square as the world slowly came back into focus.

  “Well?” he asked, his smile proud and knowing, as if he was certain she had enjoyed it.

  She hated to admit how much she had, but the joy still bubbled inside her. “It’s not bad,” she said with a soft giggle, reluctant to give him the full satisfaction he sought.

  “Not bad? I’m a great dancer! You should see me in Nerissa; even when playing a sea harp I’m unbeatable!”

  She burst into loud laughter, the sound carrying off into the noise of the crowd.

  He crossed his arms, shifting his weight to one side. “You don’t believe me?”

  “No,” she said, catching her breath and smiling brightly at him. “I believe you. I was probably really lucky to have you as my first dance partner.”

  Maybe it was the way she said it or the way the afternoon light lit up her warm brown eyes, but Ahqi, for the second time, felt that her beauty didn’t lose to that of a Celestial.

  And for a brief moment, a genuine smile crept onto his face. “I’m glad.”