I slipped out before sunrise, completely reliant on Tiye's map and my very good eyesight to find the way back to the troupe's accommodation.
It seemed unlikely that they would still be performing given that they lost more than half of the members, but it would be best to check and show some concern before I left them to their own demise.
Besides, the Fey didn't need them to actually 'perform' other than for their own sadistic entertainment. Whether they were dancing to their routine, or dancing due to the wine's intoxication, the Fey couldn't care less.
"You're awake pretty fast," I made a remark when I saw that, despite the sickly pale face, Atlas was recovering fast. Must be another Fey's magic.
I hated the way I was raised, but some things stuck with me like glue. One such thing was my aversion towards anything... unconventional. Out of the norm. Like magic. The Church and Father Alfred's teaching.
"For a dying man, yeah, I guess this is all a surprise," His voice was hoarse. He reached out a hand to grab the water bottle beside him and flinched when he felt the wounds hurting. The blood might dry, but the insides were still healing at a slow-pace.
Courtesy of Tauryn, the Seelie Prince, and whose invitation we received, a Fey healer had been checking up on Atlas. Imagine his surprise when he saw that the external wounds were all patched up. It was hard to conceal the disdain, no doubt he would be reporting back that his Prince's guests had been getting well-acquainted with the Winter Court.
"Are you still planning on having the troupe perform with all these... injuries?" I asked. Their wounds, no matter how small, would clearly be unsightly for the perfectionist Fey.
"Just Rowena," Atlas flinched again, "She insists."
Of course. "So I'm freed of lesson, then."
There was a small twitch in his eyes as he looked at me begrudgingly. His misfortune, my getaway ticket. I would rather be elsewhere than here, anyway.
"We still have to go and express our gratitude to the Prince for his invitation," He said, "Now that everyone knows you are associated with the troupe, this is perhaps the least you should do."
"You're going when you can barely talk without hurting?"
"Yes," He avoided my gaze, "This afternoon, we shall go to see the Prince. Be here after lunch."
"Atlas," I sighed and crossed my arms in front of my chest. "What is your end goal here? You must have been aware of the Fey's reputation. So why risk your life and everyone else's for a show?"
There was a subtle change in his demeanour - stiffened shoulder, pressed lips, cold eyes.
"I owe you no explanation, Iris."
Fair enough. It was a transactional relationship at best. I stood up and put the chair back to its original position. Atlas still refused to meet my eyes when I told him I was leaving, "I'll be here later. You take care, Atlas."
* * *
The royal families lived on the top of this open pyramid. Due to the secrecy, one must meet them on the second-floor, where the aristocrats resided. I had never been there before - not that I'd been to many places in my life, so I drank in the scenery with insatiable curiosity.
If the lowest floor was surrounded by water, the second floor was all about greeneries. In the middle, where the tree root became a stair that connected our area to the upper floor, there was an open space with a lone tree in the centre of it all, like the whole place was created with the single purpose of housing the tree and no one else.
"You shall wait here," A Court Lady told us and left.
Of the six members left, Rowena was the most enthusiastic. Her companion, whose grandmother was once lost here, Gwyn, shared the enthusiasm but less so, especially since she was limping, with a potential giant scar now resting on her left cheek.
Atlas had been cold and distant, but everyone chalked it down to the injuries. His male assistant was beside him, constantly acting as a human crutch. The youngest member of the troupe, barely fourteen, had his head down the entire time, face pale and hands shaking.
There were always few Feys passing by the area, since this was the only route to go between floors.
The Unseelie Feys walked around alone or in pairs, with the face of a miserable middle-aged man - a frown was constant - and light-coloured hair. Blonde was a common one, and the lighter the shade was, the higher-ranked they were in the Court. Their skin was also pale, like they had not touched the sun in a long time, but still considerably healthier-looking than the Vampires. Daytime was not the best time to meet them. It was nearing the Summer Solstice after all, and the heat was getting unbearable for the cold-loving creatures.
The Seelie Feys were unusually quiet, their subdued chatters still heard every now and then, but it was now hush-hush. Proof of the King's coming demise. They had darker hair colour, and their skin tanned and glowing, but their eyes were light in shade, with amber and green being the most common ones.
"Iris," Rowena called out, waking me up from the daze. She impatiently signalled me to follow along. Atlas and the two boys were already on their way, albeit slowly because walking was still a strenuous, nearly impossible task for him. That left Rowena and Gwyn with me. "Let's go. His Highness has called for us."
His Highness the Prince. Of course. Rumoured to be the favourite child of the Seelie King. But how favoured could he really be if he was not even named the Heir to the throne?
I nodded and put on the best smile I could muster, "Let's go."