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Saetan raised a tired brow as he looked down at the Grey Jeweled Queen torn between amusement and worry. She had gone from a scared little girl to a Healer who would tend her patient to health and now changing to a vulnerable witch. If he had half a wit of sense he would snap her pretty neck, Saetan admonished himself. Yet, her words wrapped him in something he had not felt for a time. Hope. Hope that there were good Queens out there who would the Blood in returning to the Old Ways. "I feel as though I should be insulted to be compared to hot chocolate drinks and fluffy blankets. There is hardly anything 'fluffy' about me." Though he did pull her tighter to his chest, an attempt to keep her warm.

In truth? It did cost Saetan to keep her alive and warm, but as he held her and thought about that odd spell that wrapped about her and those who seemed to 'belong' to her Saetan found himself deciding to hunt down the Black Widow who thought to ensnare the men. If he still felt the pull after, if it was more than a mere trick... Would he return? Would he actively seek service in this Queen's Court? For all, he knew this could all be some elaborate trap. All those thoughts drew to a close as Sybl's mental thread whispered in a warning. Her court had come. Of course, they had. Bristling, he felt his psychic power, the Black, stirring in irritation. Well, if they sought to take her they would find themselves facing more than they were capable of dealing with. It was hardly right or ration to not want to return this odd Queen to her court but he wanted to hold the small body against his own for a time yet.

The aforementioned Court would spot Sybl easily enough as they made their way down the bank. Dunny on Dareen's shoulder squirmed and wagged his tail. *She is near! The Queen is here and so are males that smell good! Well, this one smells better, the other one smells of blood. Hello, strange male of the Queen.* Dunny introduced himself to Syble and broadcasted to the rest of the small group outside of the cave. Thom, who was lagging behind, winced at his companion's directness.

"Uh... That was me?" The young boy offered, knowing it was most likely hopeless. Why did Dunny always seek out trouble when they were supposed to be staying out of it? To be fair, he should have slipped away from the group already and would have except for Dunny's utter assistance that they remain with the Queen.

And Dunny had sharper teeth.

Jandar was puzzled at what Mikhail had told him, but honestly, a glimmer of hope sparked within him. His initial mission, the reason he’d travelled to Terreille, had been to get SaDiablo back to Kaeleer if he were still alive. This, then, would be fulfilling his purpose. The problem was how to get to the man…and how to convince him to journey with them. Unlike Mikahil, he did not believe control was what they should seek – the Black Jeweled Warlord Prince had been controlled by the collar for longer than he himself had been alive.

All the confusion was momentarily forgotten once they descended the cliff and came across Sybl, at the sight of whom Jandar actually swore under his breath, glaring daggers at him. Worse, the sly Prince was standing between them and a cave reeking of death. The Warlord’s lips curled in fury at what he was sensing, and yet his body froze momentarily when that Alice’s bastard dared to brush against his mind, and greeted them politely. Not gloating…Stalling. Whatever he’d done, Fatima must not be dead yet.

With that knowledge, Jandar channeled his tension into the beginning of a run, dashing straight past Sybl, towards and into the cave. At the sight that met him, he once again came to a standstill. Bewilderment took a hold of him, and dominated his entire being. SaDiablo, the very man Mikhail had said they were to find and convince to travel with them was right there in front of him. Not only that, he was cuddling Fatima.

“W-what? Prince?” he questioned, utterly confused. Eyeing the man, it was obvious he’d been the one injured. Had Fatima helped heal him?

Speaking of her, his Lady was alive and uninjured…if not exactly well. She was shivering very lightly, and her countenance was feverish. Sending a light, questioning tendril of telepathy towards her, he inquired “How are you?”

Turning to SaDiablo, the juxtaposition between their last encounter and this one clear and sharp as the one between midday and midnight, he asked quietly, respectfully, “What happened?” Sensing the danger, and to show he did not intend to act in any way – yet – he slowly raised his arms, palms facing outwards in the universal ‘Peace, I mean no harm’ sign.

He was sure SaDiablo was aware that he would act if he felt the need to do so, however. For all he knew, the black jeweled male had lured Fatima here and got her drunk on his power. He had seemed curious about her their last meeting, so perhaps he’d seen the opportunity to question her and took it. Yet, the fact that he’d apparently escaped Shalador and Laska’s influence, and had been injured as a result did not escape his notice – and this was a fact that did not fit Jandar’s suspicions. So, while he could not entirely relinquish his mistrust, he was willing to converse; hopefully, the same went for the other male.

Unlike Dunny, whom was much more amicable towards Sybl than both of the other males were, Mikhail made no effort to hide his hostility the moment he saw Sybl, especially after he felt the smell that came from inside the cave. Just like Dunny had said, it was the smell of blood, a scent Mikhail was very familiar with. Without making a single effort to even hear him, Mikhail simply dashed inside the cave together with Jandar. It would be clear to Sybl, despite Mikhail's silence, that if he made any mention to stop him or made any hostile movement he was going to be a dead man.

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, when he entered the cave together with Jandar, the scene they were met with was... perplexing. On the good side, they had found Fatima and she seemed to be okay, but on the bad side, the man that was inside with her was none other than SaDiablo himself... Who was, interestingly enough *cuddling* with Fatima. It didn't take much for Mikhail to realize that the smell of blood came from SaDiablo's wounds and that Fatima herself was unharmed. Nonetheless, the situation was still a very delicate one. He didn't know why Fatima was cuddling with him, what happened nor what were the black jeweled prince's intentions for having used Sybl to lure Fatima to his encounter. Unlike Jandar, whom promptly raised his hands and tried to talk, Mikhail stood in complete silence. He didn't fully understand what was happening there. Mikhail wanted to do anything that could damage Fatima's relationship with him, in case there was any nor he wanted to lower his guard, seeing he was in front of a black jeweled prince.

As Jandar talked, asking what was happening, Mikhail stood in complete silence, watching every movement made by SaDiablo and Sybl with cold, serious eyes. Keeping one of his arms beside his body in a seemingly harmless posture, but keeping his hand near where one of his daggers were while keeping the other arm behind his back, a custom that some nobles or wealthy merchants often did, discreetly using his craft to create his wires and make them weightless, almost invisible as they floated behind him. His next movements would depend solely on SaDiablo and Sybl's actions and words.

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She couldn’t help but laugh lightly. Her fatigue made her feel drunk. The tired giggles gave light to her features as she looked up at him. “I suppose most men would,” she responded. “One can be snarly and cuddly my friend.” Friend. Did she mean that? She wasn’t sure, merely a turn of phrase which dripped from her over friendly tongue.

Saetan glanced towards the entrance of the cave, he wanted to slip them out of the cave but that was unlikely in his current condition. Though he had been healed, Saetan was still tired and suffering blood loss. ”Snarly and cuddly… I resent the latter.” He noted with a severe glower though his lips smiled. ”You truly had no idea you were spelled with a lure?”

“Am I a fisherman?” she joked back, as was her nature. She wrapped her arms about his waist. “I would say we are cuddling now, no?” It was purely for body heat, she knew well enough. But her languid, sleepy mind could not resist the chance to poke at a sleepy bear.

Saetan bristled and peeled her hands away carefully. He was not about to let her touch him til he understood this spell wrapped about her better. ”Tell me darling, who wove a spell to draw men to you, more than mere beauty. I would love to have a talk about their excellent skill.” He crooned in a charming tone. Rubbing her arms to warm them.

She frowned, pulling her body back so she could properly look up at him. She could feel the sudden rift in the air. Though his words were honey, ice lined them. Fatima had no idea what he was talking about. What had once felt of congenial thanks between the two of them had turned turbid. “There is no spell to draw men to me. What a foolish notion. And if you think I am pretty it is of your own accord. I did not ask for that.” She pulled further back and snaked her weakened way from him. “What is it that you mean?”

Saetan winced at the sudden hurt he had brought to her. Moving with the Queen lest she chill herself, he felt his jaw grow tight in frustration. ”There is a spell, a subtle spell to draw men to you. Perhaps it is because I wear the Black that I can see it. I do not deny however, you are as beautiful as the first day of winter.” He soothed, bringing up her hand to kiss her knuckles in a gentlemanly way. ”Apologies, but I must be suspicious in these trying times.”

She tensed at the touch of his lips against her hand. Her whole body thrilled with the action. Each neuron of her being began to sing and demand more. However, what little preservation instinct Fatima possessed cast a chill over her. Do not give in, it willed. Yet she did not draw her hand back. She looked at him strangely. “If I were to say that I believe you… what is it that could cause such a thing.” She was not going to mention his off hand way of saying she was pretty. Fatima had to admit that a part of her disliked being compared to winter - but then this was of her own preference. Perhaps he had, just as much, disliked but understood her reference to cocoa and blankets.

”How you could become so beautiful? Why from bathing in honey and the petals of roses for such fair skin. Combing your hair with the finest of silver combs. The compliments of many men who adore your company and beauty.” He flattered the Queen. She, in turned rolled her eyes. An automatic result before he gave a rueful smile and turned her hand to kiss her wrist then release her hand. ”But you mean the spell… A Black Widow of considerable skill. Though I can only hazard as to why.”

She shivered at the touch of his lips against the throng of pulse through her arm. With the touch of his lips, they elicited an electric shiver. If he had not released it she might have pulled it away on impulse. She was disbelieving. Her wild hair and silly nature were not Queenly and she did not deserve the pretty things he described.

That was not the focus of this conversation, however. She pulled her hands to her chest, practically against the ground as she looked up at him. Fatima could move back from him no further but she would not back down. His mention of a black widow turned her cold. A shield went up against him. Not from one of her stones but of her mind’s cage. It was not his business and she would protect her friend at all costs.

“All of the Black Widows are dead. And if they are not, they are not long for this world.” For the sake of Faeril she would draw a line between herself and the deliciously warm magic this man wove around her aching brain. She pursed her lips and pressed hands against his chest to push him back so he did not hover so. “Now rest, it is as your healer commands.” Once the pair were straightened she patted his head. “Good, now be still please.” She snuggled back against him and closed her eyes. “I would rather not speak on the Widows.”

There was sudden noise and Fatima wrinkled her nose and lifted her head. Who came to disturb her rest? They better have some warm blankets. Instead, she saw Jandar and Mikhail and she blanched. She was in no state to receive reprimands and punshiments though she rightfully deserved them. Fatima drew herself up, sitting as straight as she could and smiled. "All is well, there was no need to rush so. Someone needed help and I offered that. I am sorry I worried you."

Dareen wasn't particularly hostile towards Sybl, nor was she worried. She never got the impression of danger. Mostly because of Fatima's message. Fatima was naive and probably too soft for her own good, but she wasn't an idiot. Given the fact that Sybl was here now, it just confirmed her suspicions that this was just Fatima being Fatima and all was well. Once she was at the bottom of the dusty hill she would let Dunny down where it was less so. He was kind of scratchy and shifty. Not exactly small enough to be carried around in her pocket, unfortunately.

The males, protective as they were, rushed into the caves to save their damsel in distress. Dareen walked casually after them, looking back over her shoulder at Thom, Dunny, and Sybl. The sounds of tense but civil conversation floated from within the cave. Dareen's elevated heart beat began to calm and she smirked.

"Well, thanks a lot, kid." She thanked Thom. "And you too, Dunny, obviously." She would pet him. Then she glanced wryly over at Sylb.

"I would suggest not pullin' a stunt like that again. Unless you want Icey and Dicey over there to rip your head off." Dareen said, referring to Mikhail and Jandar with a jerked thumb over her shoulder. "Tch," She pinched her nose.

"Hope they aren't too hard on her. It's this kind of bullshit that makes Fatima so special. No other Queen in the world would ever do something like this, y'know? If she wanted to be reasonable and safe, she would have just stayed in whatever ivory tower she grew up in." Dareen said, taking a few steps into the cave. Fatima could see her now, a distance behind her two male guardians.

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He winced as the two men rushed past him, ignoring him completely. That went better than expected. He thought for sure he would be impaled. There was still time though. He smiled kindly at the dog and Dareen's calm banter made him feel less nervous. He carried his wood into the cave, silent as there was not much more to be said. Sybl began to build up the fire anew. The flame blazed with its new-found food. He began to purge his store of wood, creating quite a pile. He hadn't realized he'd gathered so much!

He felt it was not his place to get between the two snarly Princes and the Black so he stepped back once the fire was built to his satisfaction. Fatima's sigh of contentment was all he needed by way of praise to know he had done a good job. He went to stand behind Dareen, which seemed the safest and obvious place for him. Her words caught him up and he smiled. He brushed against her mind in reply, 'I knew she was different from the moment I laid eyes on her. Her act was convincing but her true self could not be hidden long. For as little as I have known her, it is not her way. She is far too bright.' He spoke with such pride, such delight to know this wonderful Queen. His only hope now was that she might accept him. And that there wasn't about to be an explosion between the higher-powered jewels within the confines of the cave.

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Liar. The Black Widows were not all dead, though Saetan was not sure about the number who had escaped the corruption that had been cast like a fisher's net over Terrielle. Still, he endured the tiny Queen's antics, they amused him even if he did want to pry for more answers. The Warlord Prince would have as well, but he was stopped by the arrival of Fatima's small Court. The golden eyes narrowed on Jandar as the Warlord held his hands up in a gesture that meant 'peace', though Saetan was ready for anything but. THe slighter figure of Mikhail was noted, though Saetan felt a keener sense of danger from the Prince that the Warlord. Keeping a sharp eye on the two, he moved to wrap his arms tightly about the Queen. His teeth bared in what could be called a smile, though it would be a clear warning of Saetan's cast. Warlord Prince's were not to be tampered with lightly after all. The veneer of humanity that was maintained by the laws of the Blood could very well be ripped away and the more primal nature of the powerful caste could boil to the surface.

"Her erstwhile 'cousin', I presume? Sybl, I thought you were clever enough to not be followed." Saetan crooned to the other man.

*His scent was easy to follow! Lady, you should not worry the males so much! They get very snarly.* The all too blunt mind voice of Dunny interrupted the tension as he scrambled into the cavern. *I do not like it here, it smells very bad. Dareen, Dareen it smells bad. The Queen should leave here.* The counterpart of the small dog, Thom, had waited outside the cavern. Choosing distance from a possible fight as the best option.

The dark haried Warlord Prince was distracted as Dunny spoke. His eyes widening slightly before they narrowed. "I see... A Sceltie Kindred." He remembered the little dogs, and though he had heard of kindred he had never personally met any. "You may not wish to, Lady. But I will find out what Black Widow cast the net to draw males and a Queen to the fold." He whispered in Fatima's ear softly in a lover's voice, his arms moving slowly as to not discomfort the woman as they gripped her more firmly. Watching the two fighters with eyes that were growing cold and a temper that was edging towards the killing edge so he might get answers to the spell that pulled at Sybl. The poor man did not deserve the magic that would play with his emotions. Yet, he would not harm the tiny Queen. That viciousness within him was so very content to hold her close even as he wanted to rip apart these other men. It would have been easy too, but his power was mostly bound and Saetan wanted to rip out Dorothea's throat for that 'gift' now more than ever.

Dareen raised an eyebrow and smiled- it was something of a cringe- at the words Sybl spoke. She certainly had an effect on people. Fatima had her respect, but it was clear she had these men's-

Dunny seemed to put it best. They get very snarly. Daren looked at Thom and Dunny and nodded. "You're probably right. I'm gonna get involved." Dareen looked over her shoulder at Thom, briefly making eye contact, before walking into the brewing confrontation.

Exhaling, Dareen took steps into the cave and came more clearly into view of the confrontation. Mikhail and Jandar had there backs to her. There was a fire inbetween them and a Warlord Prince, who's back was against the wall. Fatima was in his grasp, but she didn't seem like she was being kidnapped.

Dareen appeared in Fatima's vision, a little farther back, and between Jandar and Mikhail. The energy in here was different. Everyone here was wrapped up in something. It was beginning to feel like her and the little ones were the only level-headed people here. Fortunately, Jandar and Mikhail seemed to be cool negotiators, even under pressure.

She heard the tail-end of Fatima's apology. But it was kind of hard not to be a little worried when there was a dangerous looking man with his arms wrapped around her. Dareen sought eye contact with Fatima and shrugged pointedly, eyes widening. 'Well?' her facial expression said. The stranger seemed very violent, but protective of Fatima. Which was strange, because that was supposed to be their job.

"We're good here, right? Pretty sure we're all on the same team." Dareen wagered, wading into the whirlpool with her words.

Jandar glanced at Fatima in obvious annoyance at her interruption. Anger warred with concern, and if she were in a better state, he would be outraged at her saying there was ‘no need’ for them to rush yet that there was a ‘need’ for her to follow a presumed enemy by herself. Of course, based on how meek Sybl was being at the moment, maybe he wasn’t so much Alice’s man as Jandar had initially thought, but they couldn’t have known that. So, when he spoke to her, his tone was inevitably colder than he’d usually wish it to be with her. “We will discuss the matter when you are in a better state, my Lady,” he stated, voice sharp yet detached, carrying none of the heat that momentarily sparked in his gaze.

Regardless, he turned to the Prince and inclined his head. “Yes, I do believe you met us when we were pretending to be relatives,” he admitted, since he was near certain SaDiablo was aware they’d been lying about the nature of their relationship. Now that he thought about it, he once again wore the make-up that would make him seem a Hyllian. He couldn’t help but wonder if the Warlord Prince sensed something off about that too. Jandar wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. “I assure you, however, that the guise was meant for the general populace rather than you specifically, Prince,” he added placatingly, keeping his hands where they were held aloft for now. As paranoid as the man in front of him was, he was sure to take any such deception very personally.

Then the rest of their company arrived, including Dunny, who cheerfully communicated to everyone how he’d been the one to follow the tracks. Under other circumstances, Jandar would have been smugly amused, but as it was, he was mostly relieved – the presence of a Sceltie might show SaDiablo that they weren’t the enemies he was apparently taking them as. “I believe we are, Dareen, though I’m not sure everyone here realizes that,” he pointedly glanced at Mikhail and SaDiablo.

With a bemused head-shake, he addressed the black jeweled male once again. “Prince…I see you still believe we are under some sort of a spell. But the connection we feel to our Queen is as genuine as yours is,” he stated, gazing at him seriously. At this point, it was rather obvious that SaDiablo felt the call to Fatima; otherwise, he wouldn’t be wrapped around her at all, much less so protectively. “I admit, certain events have been rather convenient, including the way I initially met her, for example. However, would you not call that Fate?” he inquired, one brow rising quizzically.

Giving the man a moment to contemplate, Jandar continued. “After all, we found you here, once again in very unlikely circumstances. Instead of a trap, what awaited us was another potential ally. You may not know this yet, but we intend to depart for Kaeleer, and the local Priestess of Winton had proclaimed that she would help us through the realms only if we brought you along. And here you are. Convenient, yet it might work in your favour as well, no?” he explained, finishing with another question.

Mikhail's expression wasn't a pleasant one as he heard Fatima explaining what happened, far from it. It wasn't the first time that such thing happened and Mikhail knew well that Fatima was only alive by now due to her luck... Offering an excuse that she just went to help someone only made Mikhail's expression darken even more and his mood to get even worse, to the point he was having to control himself. It was clear that he wasn't the only one feeling that though, as Jandar himself had to control his anger as he spoke to Fatima. Surprisingly though, Jandar ended up being honest with Saetan, saying everything to him, even how the old priestess said that she would only help them to escape to Kaeleer if they took him with them.

As Jandar spoke, Mikhail stood in silence, simply hearing. It was apparent that his mood was in a terrible state.

"Luck tends to be fleeting and unreliable, Fatima... I would be careful if I were you... lest your luck fails the moment you decide to act foolishly again and something finally goes wrong..." he said in a tense, dry voice.

Regarding Setan, Mikhail made absolutely no effort to answer his threatening stare with an icy cold gaze of his own, one that made it clear that he was as dangerously close to the killing edge as Saetan was. A clear warning that Mikhail was no common prince.
The exchange of stares lasted for a brief while before Mikhail finally called back the wires made by craft that were floating behind him and let go of his dagger, sheathing it again under his clothes.

As Dareen approached, saying that everyone was on the same side to try and defuse the situation, followed by Jandar's mention that not everyone seems to realize that fact, Mikhail, looked at them and Fatima before he spoke again.

"I am here due to my own, personal reasons, not because of any 'connection'." he said, his voice clearly indicating that his mood didn't get any better.

"Despite that, if you still don't trust them, believe in the word of someone who lived his entire life like a ghost. Not making any connections, avoiding and despising queens, their courts or black widows." Mikhail said after a moment, this time turning to Saetan before he turned his back and began walking away. While Mikhail's eyes were dangerously cold, he had no reason to lie to Saetan and he could see it in his eyes.

"I'm going back." Mikhail finally said, turning towards the group as he began walking away from the cave. The moment he stepped outside, he put up a sight shield, before he made his way back to the inn.

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In ways, this whole encounter was going both better and worse than she had anticipated. She was happy to see her tribe, of course. However, everyone seemed to be on the edge which was quite a stressor. She nibbled her lower lip as she watched the exchanges. Fatima felt Saetan's grip on her only tighten. Did he maybe not realize how possessive he was becoming in front of the other princes? Did he see them as a threat to him? Dareen, bless her kind heart, was attempting to defuse the situation but could end up caught in the crossfire.

She was rightfully chastised about dumb luck and being reckless. Mikhail seemed to be done with the whole thing and it was obvious how odious he considered becoming a part of her court. She knew he felt the draw just as she did for him. It was saddening to feel him pull away from her. It had been this way since the beginning. A constant tug at a hole in the pit of her stomach. She watched Mikhail disappear and then turned to Saetan. She got onto her knees so that she was facing him and placed hands on either side of his face. She felt stubble beneath her fingers and felt the life returning to his body. It thrummed beneath her hands.

Fatima leaned close and placed her forehead against his. 'In time you will know the answer to your question. The path that will lead you there depends on if can I trust you to do as I ask of you.' She spoke, brushing against his mind. Something for only the two of them. 'My soul cries for you. I accept you if you will accept me. And in doing so, I will share my secrets as you must share yours.' She leaned back and smiled. She gently smoothed his hair back from his face and then stood up, removing herself from his grasp. She was still shaky on her feet.

Approaching the fire, she began to stack more wood into it. Aloud she said, "I am sorry. I cannot promise to be more careful in the future - I am a reckless woman, running wild through the tall grass, heedless of vipers and traps." She brushed hair back from her face and sighed. "And I am sorry for that." She poked the fire with a long branch she found in the wood pile. Dunny came to sit beside her and she stroked his fur, calming her confused heart. What were they supposed to do now? Everything rested on the black and what he would decide to do. "It truly is a wonder I'm not dead," she mused and looked toward Jandar. "I suppose we should go back? I'm so tired it's hard to think straight."

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Sybl flinched at Saetan's words. What was he supposed to do, fight her whole Court? They were all much more powerful than he for starters. He remained in the back, offering nothing. He was the vector for which this whole situation had arisen. He should have been more stern with Fatima, telling her to stay behind. However, he could not see himself telling the woman no to anything. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and watched as Mikhail left the group before turning his attention back to the mess around the fire.

'I will stay with you, until you are well enough to move,' he offered to Saetan. Quiet and unobtrusive. he wasn't even sure the Black heard him at all. He seemed to be concentrating on something else. Sybl fidgeted, tugging at the scarf around his neck in his nervousness. As usual, he was practically useless.

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Saetan considered the group as they spoke, though he gave Fatima a stern look of disapproval when the tiny Queen acted so intimately with him. He wanted to bend and enjoy the softness of this Hyallian Queen, but he could not. "If it is indeed what I feel, then I would be blind to what is wrapped around all of you, except the Sceltie and woman." He gave Jandar a cool look that spoke of dissatisfaction. Before turning to Fatima, gripping her hand gently but firmly. Urging her with all his heart that she would be truly a Queen of worth even as he feared the spell that pulled them all was naught but that. A spell designed to fool them. "You ask me for my trust. I will give you a chance, in return... I wish to know what Black Widow touched you. Who placed the spell to draw these men to you? Wearing the Black informs me of a few things more than a Grey Jewel." He noted calmly, his eyes hard. "And you are Hyallian witch, you would know why I have not left Terrielle yet. Or does Dorothea no longer brag about her little trap? She tends to tire of it after a century when it becomes common knowledge."

Dunny sat down looking between the group, they were all speaking in riddles about the poor Sceltie. The dog was less than thrilled, he was missing half the conversation. It appread the Black Jeweled Warlord-Prince felt they knew more than his friends might. So, Dunny thought he ought to speak up again. *Let Faeril look into him! Let him look into Faeril to assure! They smell the same, I have a very good nose, Thom says so.* The pup declared informing the group that this plan of his was a very good one.

As Mikhail wondered back to the inn, he would find Gen landing and gathered with Denvar around Faeril. The small group looking worried as they chatted quietly among themselves. A private sort of discussion. It was Gen who noted the Dea Al Mon first. "Any sign of Fatima? Faeril says she dare not look in the Twisted Kingdom. There's a Black Widow too near." And thus the Eyrien witch would risk revealing herself, especially if the Black Widow wore a more powerful Jewel.

It took Mikhail a while until he arrived on the inn again, in part because he knew a certain someone wasn't in danger and took his time to breath and calm down a little. Upon finally arriving at the inn though, Mikhail would find Gennar, Denvar and Faeril, chatting among themselves. Gennar was the first one who noticed Mikhail as he approached, asking what happened with Fatima and giving Mikhail a rather concerning piece of information about another Black Widow being nearby.

"Luck hasn't abandoned the reckless little queen yet. She is fine. She found Saetan by the way." he said in a clearly annoyed tone, looking towards Faeril as he said the last part.

"Regarding that... I have good and bad news. The good news is that Saetan seems to be drawn to Fatima..." he said with a sigh, his tone of voice indicating that on his opinion, it wasn't a particularly good thing for him.

"The bad news is that he is extremely possessive, dangerous and is extremely wary about you in particular, Faeril. He says you placed a spell to draw men towards Fatima." he finished, looking straight towards Faeril. Despite his emotionless expression, his eyes had a rather sharp glint to them as he carefully watched Faeril's expression, reaction and answer to what he had just said.

Dareen blew some air between her lips as Mikhail stalked out of the cavern, watching him go. That did actually succeed in making the situation less tense, though, because he was clearly in a bad mood. Jandar seemed completely reasonable, which was good.

Dareen chuckled as Fatima said the honest truth that she didn't plan on being any less 'foolish' or 'reckless' any time soon. Poor Jandar was probably going to have a heart attack. Saetan, though, was caught up on something. She had heard him mention it a few times now. A draw. A lure. Beset upon her by a Black Widow. Would Faeril do such a thing? Dareen wasn't sure. She also wasn't convinced, for one key reason. Men and women had an...interesting dynamic, in Blood culture. One that she, in the Crimson Sunrise, didn't participate much in. Sure, she had laid with men before but these Warlord Princes and Queens and Witches in most of the world took it to a whole other level. She could feel the tension between Saetan and Fatima. They looked like they were going to start making out any second now. So that, Dareen reasoned, might be something Saetan was wary of. That a Black Widow (Faeril) was manipulating all their minds.

The mercenary wasn't convinced, and she decided to speak her mind. "Okay, look," Dareen said, crossing her arms and leaning towards Saetan. Her tone of voice and manner of speaking felt utterly 'lower class' compared to everyone else in the room.

"I'm also 'drawn' to Fatima. And I'm a straight woman who it seems like you haven't really noticed yet. I don't think there's some passive mind control lure or whatever trapping all these men in. I think, and hear me out, they all just like Fatima." Dareen shrugged, frowning.

"And, y'know, what's not to like? She's nice, she's funny, and pretty, and brave and generous. So I think, even if there is some magical lure, that everyone here isn't just gonna up and leave or suddenly hate her guts." Dareen said.

"Don't uh," She squint-smiled at Fatima. "Let it get to your head or anything."

Jandar exhaled loudly in exasperation. “I don’t know what you feel Prince, so I can’t help you there. Believe what you will,” he concluded. SaDiablo then spoke to Fatima, and though it was all intended for her, Jandar’s eyes narrowed at the mention of a trap. “What trap? Do you mean the…” he trailed off and pointedly dropped his eyes to stare at the Warlord Prince’s collar for a beat, “or something else?” he asked, concern sharpening his tone.

Soon after, Dunny revealed the existence of Faeril, and Jandar couldn’t help but groan. “Dunny…The prince won’t want to have anyone ‘look into him’; if anything, he’ll probably just want to dispose of her,” he explained despairingly. “Also, what do you mean that he can look into her, surely not-?” he wondered loudly, head swinging to look back at SaDiablo from where he’d been momentarily distracted by the sceltie. The hound had outright said SaDiablo smelled the same as a Black Widow...what other conclusion was to draw but that he was one himself?

Dareen once again attempted to diffuse the situation, but Jandar grimaced, as he didn’t believe it would do much. If SaDiablo was convinced he could feel something, then he likely could. A slight doubt about Faeril began to nibble at the Warlord; he would like to confirm the matter with the woman himself. He didn’t believe he was being manipulated in such a way that he was acting uncharacteristically, but it would explain some things if there had been a ‘lure’ so he was able to meet Fatima so easily in what had at the time seemed a chance encounter. He wouldn’t mind if it hadn’t been, but he would have liked to have been informed as much by Faeril. Not that he was surprised too much if the taciturn woman didn’t deign to waste her time with such trivialities.

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Mikhail's return was some thing of a relief for the eyriens. The fear that the small Queen might wander into trouble was always present but to know she was safe, even with such a formidable Warlord Prince like Saetan SaDiablo becoming territorial over her... The men found it worrisome, a Warlord Prince's temper, especially the Black, put under the strain of the new bond to a queen was something best not tested. Faeril mean while hardly batted an eye. In fact to Mikhail she would seem almost delighted by the news.

What he said next put a blankness in her eyes and she gave the merest flinch. "It is not a spell to draw men to Fatima." Faeril stated firmly, her lips thin. "It was a prayer to draw the power to save the Blood. I wove it but I had no say in whom." Her kin about her shifted uncomfortably. They had a suspicion of what Faeril had been doing but confirmation was something else. Gennar gave Mikhail a wary look as the Black Widow bowed her head to Mikhail and sat in a rickety looking chair. Faeril’s own mind was racing in fear. Hed hands folding in her lap were white knuckles as she kept them from shaking. What would happen? Who all knew? And what would become of her for netting the strongest of the Blood in the realm?

Saetan glared at the Sceltie, turning his attention to Dareen he raised a brow. "I see you missed a step in your education. A queen always has a First Circle of twelve males." His words were cool as he arched a brow at the Pruul witch. "You don't feel the same pull, darling. The spell isn't connected over you either. Men serve and protect, Lady. We also obey and are not limited three days out of each month to live without our craft and vulnerable to attack." It was harsh, Saetan knew and he softened his words as much as he could. Turning his attention go Jandar he arched a brow. "I would meet this Black Widow before I decide on my course of action." There was no discussion it would be or he would not join.

Dareen frowned back at Jandar and Saetan. "That's what I- I know I wouldn't feel the- alright, forget it." Dareen pinched her nose, smiling. Saetan was also insistent on there being a Black Widow involved. If Faeril really did fuck up, then that was too bad. Dareen knew she wasn't a good enough liar to deny it, so she just went with a truth.

"I'm outta my element. Got too cocky. Just gonna take the loss on this one and let you educated aristocrats figure it out. With whichever brain you choose to use; the one in your skull or the one between your legs." Dareen backed out of the cave and turned on her heel, making her way out into the open air.

She looked down at the white haired boy and smirked. "Savor your childhood. Soon all you'll be able to think about is girls." Dareen said. Then she raised an eyebrow. "Well, maybe. Are you Blood? If not, then at least you won't have magical mystical feminine lures placed on you." Dareen mysteriously waggled her fingers, making her voice sound silly.

Mikhail looked in silence at Faeril, watching her reply to his question with a cold, dangerous expression. Faeril would know more than anyone else how Mikhail treated any variable or 'obstacles' he could not control and to him and how close the line between 'ally' and 'obstacle' was for him. He had trusted Faeril to mess with his mind and 'cure' him, but knowing from Faeril herself that she did weave something to attract 'power' towards Fatima made Mikhail doubt if he should really trust her. Was that the reason why Mikhail was working so hard to defend Fatima? Even though he kept saying to himself he was only doing so due to the 'deal' he made with Faeril... Was it really just that?

"SaDiablo will be looking for you. I recommend you to be ready when he comes for you." Mikhail said in a cold tone, still looking at Faeril with the same dangerous stare.

"I decided to trust you when I came to you for treatment. Do not make me regret my choice." he said before he turned away and went outside to watch the surroundings.

“Let us depart then, Prince. If you would let one of us help yourself, and another to help our Queen…?” he enquired, approaching carefully. Since SaDiablo was so snarly he might be more comfortable having Dareen near Fatima, but then again, maybe he wouldn’t even appreciate a hand up. Nonetheless, Jandar offered to help him get up, and if necessary, to support him afterwards.

The walk to the Inn was somewhat awkward, especially as they had to conceal SaDiablo at the very least. It wouldn’t be good for Fatima to be seen as weak either, so they had to deal with that as well. It was quite the relief when they finally arrived at their private rooms in the inn, even if this did expose Faeril to SaDiablo.

“I am afraid the Prince insisted to come along,” Jandar offered as an explanation to Mikhail, Faeril, and the rest of them. “I would suggest you two sort your differences soonish, otherwise Alice might send someone for her servant…or to insist on that lunch we’d been invited to. If at all possible, I’d really rather avoid that, and the best way to do it is to get out of here.” The Warlord explained, urging the two Widows – and wasn’t that still a hard to believe concept? – to get what they had to do over with.

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He worried his hands together as there was a lot of back and forth and all over the place in the conversation. He had a tenuous grip on reality at the best of times but as it stood now he was quite lost. When they spoke of leaving and getting to the bottom of it once and for all... at least that was what he understood them to say, he felt relief. Having not much else to do that would be considered worthwhile, he moved toward Fatima. She looked up at him and smiled and for the hundredth time his heart skipped an excited beat. He placed his jacket around her shoulders, hoping to obscure the blood as the material was not thick enough to provide much by way of warmth. Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms and she slid her arms about his neck. She fit here so well that once they reached the tavern he had a hard time setting the young woman down.

It was hardly appropriate for him to keep a hold on her though so he set her down into a chair before finding a comfortable wall to stand against. Out of the way and out of their minds. Hopefully, this would get sorted out with minimal bloodshed. he'd had quite enough excitement for one day. For many days really.

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She poked at the fire, not feeling particularly helpful. It hurt her heart to hear Saetan dismiss her so absolutely. To think, just hours before she had been terrified of him and would have been loathe to think of him thinking well of her. Truth be told she was still terrified of him but she liked him better than she had before. With a sigh, she agreed that heading back would be the best course of action. She wasn't sure how she was going to manage walking all of the way back. Just as she was thinking this, a thin material settled around her shoulders and she smiled up at Sybl. It seemed she did not need ask, the man lifted her as if she were no more trouble than a sack of wool.

The trip back was quiet for her. She listened and mostly watched Dunny hop about in his happy way. Worry squirmed in her stomach. She had tried so hard to protect Faeril from being discovered and here they were leading the most dangerous man in all of Terrielle to her. She hoped she could continue to keep her friend safe. After being placed in a chair she ran a hand through her hair only to find it a horribly knotted mess. She smirked before asking Thom to fetch her a mug of ale. She was desperate for a bit of a pick me up after all that had happened. A nap would be even better but there was no time for napping.