“Feo slipped on the stairs and cracked his head on the ground,” Pari said, descending the aforementioned stairs in a gown of blood red. “He’s fine, we got him checked out.”
“Oh my god!” Saskia cried, her hands straying up to his scalp. “Are you okay? Where did you get hurt?”
“He’s fine,” Pari reiterated. “You can’t even feel it now, head wounds just bleed a lot.”

“What?!” Saskia gasped, clasping his face in her hands. “Oh my god! Are you okay? Shit, a demon?”

“They need to know,” she said. “A parent worries.”
Somehow, Pari managed to bite her tongue. “We handled it.”
“Even then,” Saskia replied firmly. “I’ll open a door right now and you can swing by the palace.”
“I’m not supposed to.”
“Kyros will want to know too.”
“Kyros doesn’t want to know anything. Why do you think he sent me here?”

Pari fell quiet for a moment, contemplative. She'd been stemming all of her roiling emotions since the previous night - both from the demon and from what had happened afterwards - and those feelings were threatening to slop over the brim of her fraying resolve, but she took a quiet breath to hold it back... at least a moment longer. "It pretended to be an Altirian," she said factually. "The lights went out because of a snowstorm, and we thought the Lumanliscs had sent someone over to fix them. But it was a demon. We found out a few hours later when I went to go fix the lights... because they went out again... and it was sitting in the basement."

“Yeah, of course. It’s no skin off my back,” Saskia assured him. “Hey, how did you two get rid of that demon?”
Pari glanced towards the stairs. “It’s that man.”

She slid off of Pari to sit on her other side, giving him a wide-eyed look. "Um, kind of. You didn't? They've been making eyes at each other for over a year now."
"We have not been making eyes at each other," Parisa derided. Sparrow shrugged a little. "Sure, Pari."

Pari's expression soured. She crossed her arms, deliberating on her answer.
The easiest thing to say would be that yes, it was bad and it wouldn't happen again. But that was a bold-faced lie, and besides, she didn't want it getting back to Feo that she'd mocked their night together... and she knew Sparrow was going to report back, even if she didn't mean to. If, the next time Feofil saw her, she gave him that sad puppy-dog look, he'd immediately know what had happened.
"It was..." she was clearly struggling to articulate what, exactly, it was. "... not what I expected."

peach — 07/13/2019 4:56 PM
Mirza: any updates
[4:56 PM]
Mirza: pari fell asleep so
July 15, 2019

plum — 07/15/2019 4:55 PM
Feo: Nothing. It’s like ten did Kyros just never say anything

peach — 07/15/2019 4:59 PM
Mirza: he texted pari but haven't heard from him since
[4:59 PM]
Pari THE GREAT: Tried my best, got shut down, and now Ingora has basis for a lawsuit at best and might just actually poison me the next time I go in at worst. Hope it was fucking worth it.
[4:59 PM]
Mirza: i just copied that

plum — 07/15/2019 5:00 PM
Vic: lmao hope it was fucking worth it
[5:00 PM]
Vic: he doesn’t even care

peach — 07/15/2019 5:01 PM
Mirza: he's probably stressed out is all
[5:01 PM]
Mirza: I'll text grandma too

plum — 07/15/2019 5:01 PM
Vic: doesn’t give him the right to make it about himself

peach — 07/15/2019 5:02 PM
Mirza: ask if she can figure something out
[5:02 PM]
Mirza: i mean... you're not wrong
[5:02 PM]
Mirza: but you know kyros
[5:02 PM]
Mirza: he gets mad about something and acts like he's mad about something completely different
[5:02 PM]
Mirza: complicated boi

plum — 07/15/2019 5:02 PM
Vic: yeah I know
July 22, 2019

It was weird, being back in Atherdale after only a year, but with everything changed.
Sparrow hovered near the edge of the room, closest to a table covered in food, where she could at least pretend to be doing something. Feo, her usual security blanket, had been whisked away by Parisa for some graduation party event. She could see him in the distance, swamped by their classmates - well, her former classmates - an expression of regret stark enough that she could see it from across the hall. Sparrow had been surprised when he'd complained that Pari had, "in an act of generosity and frankly, charity", decided to share her graduation party with him. It was the last thing he wanted, but how could he say no? Well, he'd tried to, and the princess has simply rejected his rejection. It wasn't like Pari to want to share the limelight, but it wasn't like Pari really shared anything with Sparrow anymore, so... she was in the dark about these latest antics. Vic had been hanging out with Sparrow until a few minutes ago, when he'd gotten pulled into a conversation with some very brightly-dressed students. She'd thought about trying to tag along, but the notion exhausted her. She loved Vic. His friends could be... overwhelming. And things had been weird between them since her disappearance. It rankled at her, but she had to give them time and space for their anger. They deserved that, at least.
Then there was Mirza. He was probably the most forgiving, after Feofil. She'd actually managed to pull him aside in the early days of her visit to apologize, but he'd just patted her arm and reassured her that he hadn't been too offended, and that he'd gotten over the hurt. His eyes, always so dark and perpetually steady, signaled that he knew there was more to the story, but it was Mirza. She didn't offer any explanation and he didn't ask. She could have kissed him for that, but kisses had caused this mess in the first place. Speaking of which, Mirza was making rounds with his uncle, who had been steadfastly avoiding her when he wasn't giving her the PR-prince routine. And Sparrow knew that Pari was undoubtedly furious with her, though she'd been all smiles and careless laughter through the visit, the very picture of unbothered. Pari had sided with her cousin in his and Sparrow's unspoken fight, though Sparrow desperately hoped that she didn't know what the fight had been about. And Sparrow, for her part, had tried to make amends, but Pari was in full PR mode as well and she had parties to worry about. She made sure she didn't have a gap in her schedule during which Sparrow could steal her away.

For the most part, the trip had been exactly what Sparrow had expected, and dreaded. Feo, the only one who knew everything that had happened that fateful night, and why she'd left so abruptly, had taken it upon himself to be her advocate. She was staying with his family actually, and it was a breath of fresh air. The Zhernekov uncles were boisterous and every day was new, blessedly ordinary drama. Sasha and Saskia and Vera had invited her in with great delight. Saskia was excited to have another woman in the house - she said Vera, who was a goblin in disguise, didn't count. Vera was excited to have a new playmate to torment, and Sasha seemed pleased to have another calm presence to offset his wife and his daughter. Their invitation had been a relief for Sparrow, who had been a little afraid that Simona might want to keep her at the palace. Instead, her de facto guardian had been eager to pawn her off on someone else. Simona hadn't been around very much at all.
Despite her years of experience, despite knowing better, that Simona didn't have time for her after a year of not seeing or speaking with each other had pierced Sparrow's heart just a little bit; then again, Simona always ensured that nothing - not even friendship - flourished between herself and the girl she'd been tasked with taking care of for seventeen years. And... maybe it was fine. Sparrow had wanted to talk to her about the mermaids back in Altair, and about Altair itself, since Simona could keep a secret and she was reeling from the weight of so many. But she could bear it. It was hard not to say anything to her old friends, though. Despite their distance, they were the ones who knew Sparrow best. But they didn't know about the mer, not really, and the Lumanliscs had made it clear that their goodwill and her reputation for being mostly quiet and compliant was really the only reason they'd let her into Altair. She didn't think they'd be so welcoming if she let anything about the disaster in their country slip, especially in front of the Tyrneamitore. And the royals had tried - Tasia had been at it the entire week, crafting the most subtle of questions to gauge anything at all about the state of Altair. Sparrow was sure Kyros and Pari would be at it too, if they were talking to her like normal people. Either way, it didn't matter; years at the palace had given her a master class in the art of deflection and a vague smile.

The hardest thing not to talk about was the demons, especially since she knew what they meant to Kyros. She hadn't really talked to him at all, since... well, since the night it had all gone wrong. Sparrow had been something of a mess for her first month in Altair, which was mortifying in retrospect. She didn't want to know what the Lumanliscs had thought of her, even though most of them had been nice to her face. Maybe, because they had enough sadness between them, her own was just a drop in the pool. They seemed comfortable with the constant cloud of misery that Sparrow had carried around in those first days. She supposed they had to be. Surviving Altair was no easy task; depression and anxiety were a guarantee. But Sparrow had slowly found herself again, and she'd also discovered why it was so hard for everyone there to leave their broken country. As petrifying as Altair could be, she'd never seen such a crystalline sky or felt such downy grass, trekked through soil that was rich and heady with minerals, fallen asleep under the firmament of stars that she might have been able to touch and the balm of warm rain. Every corner of Altair felt stunning. Sparrow felt more beautiful in it, like the colors had twined themselves through her hair and the life that saturated every vestigial creature had grown in her, too, and she'd needed that... especially after what had happened. The others could see it too, she was sure, because her first day back had been full of comments from Saskia and Vera on how lovely she looked, how she glowed with health, how her eyes glimmered and her cheeks pinked and she'd grown bronzy under the sun.
Sure, there were things to be deeply afraid of, but the horrors crawled upon the land while she was safe in the sea. Sparrow and her pod rarely encountered the things that reigned in the night, though... a few near-misses had left her occasionally sleepless, and with a some scars as reminder not to get too comfortable. Anyways, wasn't the good it had done her heart worth it? Sparrow just... reeled her memories in, when they began to dip into the shadows and the nightmares. There was a lot that she successfully kept bolted behind a door, latched with several strong locks. She was getting better at it every day.

But here, now, feeling utterly alone when there were so many people milling around her - people who knew her, but who quickly glanced away, or who blatantly stared with voyeuristic curiosity, because no one knew why she'd left so abruptly last year - she could feel herself drifting out of her own body, uncomfortable in her skin once again. She'd tried to pick out a pretty, inoffensive dress suitable for the party that would let her blend in without trapping her. She spent more time out of cloth than in it, now that she was trawling the ocean most of her days, but even the carefully selected gown was starting to stick and chafe and itch, and all she wanted to do was strip it all off and sink into a plush bed. There were so many people here and there were so many walls. She couldn't see the sky.

And there was one more confrontation she'd had to make when she'd stepped into Atherdale again, one that had sent her stomach to her feet and her heart to her throat. A gorgeous one, with thick, dark hair and flawless skin and a mischievous smile, impeccably dressed in fashion that even Vic would have to commend and so sweet that even Feo, forever guarded after Sol, had to admit that he found little fault with her. Her name was Dulcette, which was just the perfect name for someone so kind, warm, and cheerful. And she made Sparrow sick with jealousy.
It only made sense that Kyros would start seeing someone; it was a reality that Sparrow knew she'd have to contend with at some point, though she had quickly realized, upon seeing them together for the first time, that she wasn't nearly as prepared as she'd decided to be. It had been without warning, which had made it even worse— karmic, even. She'd walked into the palace alongside Feofil. Its denizens had known that she was visiting this week, though no one had been informed that she'd be stopping by that day, and she'd hoped that the shock of her arrival would lower their guard enough for her to get her apologies in, and then her eyes had landed on them. They'd been silhouetted by the sun, pink from its descent but a perfect, blazing backdrop to Kyros, who had somehow matured even more finely in only a year's time. Those good looks were utterly devastating now, painstakingly crafted by a cruel God. His easy strength remained, visible even beneath his coiffed clothes, but she thought he'd grown a little slimmer, so his muscles were tighter instead of so bulky. He'd probably gotten a new trainer. It was her last coherent thought before her eyes fell upon the girl whose arm was laced through his, all sugar and delight, laughing musically. Sparrow had instantly known that Dulcette de la Rosa was nothing like Sol, and she'd seen Kyros's expression soften in an unfamiliar, cloying smile in Dulcette's direction, and her heart had squeezed so painfully in her chest that she thought it might actually shatter, little bits of it bursting through her rib cage and flying about the palace like debris from a bomb.

She didn't remember much about what happened next; there were vague memories of Sparrow spinning around and hurrying off in a random direction before Kyros could see her, Feo following behind, his silence heavy with sympathy. She remembered him kindly saying, perhaps in a misguided attempt to reassure her, "She's a lot more like you than Sol." and somehow that made everything so much worse, because Kyros hadn't wanted her. He hadn't wanted Sparrow, who had been his friend for more than a decade, who'd been there for him through his worst days and who'd carefully carved her life away so that he was the center of it. Clearly, he wanted someone like Sparrow, but... more beautiful. More accomplished. More clever, more educated, more high class, and just more, in every single way.
Later that night, back in her quiet guest bedroom in the Saposhnikov apartment, Sparrow couldn't help but dissolve into tears she thought she'd already cried out long before. I could have loved you so well, she wept, despite knowing the truth: he never had and never would love her.
When Sparrow finally got around to trying to see him again, she'd done it with plenty of people present and Feofil had made sure to schedule it so that Dulcette was otherwise occupied. The whole time, a reverb echoed in her head: Kyros had to know that she knew; he had to know how seeing him with another woman made her feel. And he didn't care at all, clearly. Though she wasn't owed his time or his consideration, she wouldn't put herself through the agony either. So they hadn't spoken a word to each other since.

Sparrow locked it all away behind that same door that held her memories of their last night: the heat his hands caressing her skin, his lips crushed against hers, knowing he'd never taste her again, the weight of his body. But while she closed most of her feelings away, she made sure to withdraw one: that humiliation she'd felt when she'd seen his expression, his pity, moments after he'd registered her confession of love. She let it roost in her chest, let it swallow her words when she thought to speak. She let it flourish under the poignant looks Kyros and Dulcette shared, all the while upholding her detached calm. Simona would have been proud of her, though Sparrow burned with shame.

Mirza was tired of playing prince tonight. He really just wanted to head up to his room, kiss his mother good night, and settle into bed with a book and a mug of hot chocolate. Instead he was at Pari's graduation party, because face it, Feofil was an afterthought, as much as Pari insisted that the party was for the both of them. Mirza had been laughing politely and smiling in a dignified manner for like, two hours now. Kyros was fully in his element, engaged in some debate about wedge issues and open governances and ideonomic meritotheism. He wasn't even sure what that last one was, he hadn't gotten to that level in the politicking game yet.
As Mirza bit back a bored sigh, his eyes trailing across the room in search of his friends, he found himself looking upon Sparrow. She was hiding between the spread table and a pillar, doing that faux busy thing people did when they didn't have anywhere to go at a party. Sometimes, when his gaze brushed over, her she stole his breath away - in a totally objective and platonic sense. It was just that Altair had done a lot of good for her... until she'd come back. When she'd first landed in Atherdale, Sparrow been transcendent, but only a few days in and her newfound bloom was already wilting. She looked more like the Sparrow he remembered now, her eyes on the ground, smiling in a rigid, polite way and then quickly looking askance when she happened to cross glances with someone else. Sadness washed over him. She should be happy, here, comfortable at home, but it looked like she just wanted to get away. He couldn't blame her. No one seemed to be approaching Sparrow - apparently it only took one year for the gentry to forget about someone who'd grown up with them for almost sixteen. But it wasn't just that she'd been gone for a year, he knew that. She didn't have anything to offer them: no bloodline, no assets, not even any money. So she wasn't worth the networking effort.
Just as he debated extracting himself from his current conversation and approaching her, he felt a hand touch his elbow. "Mirza?" a familiar voice asked over his shoulder. He turned to find himself looking at Sloane. Sloane had been on his good side for the last couple of years. He'd been trying to push Feo to ask her out, but Feo refused to believe that a real life human woman could be interested in him, regardless of how sweet Sloane had been since the incident with Boaz (who had since transferred). "Hey Sloane," he greeted, offering her an easy grin. She was one of the few people he was happy enough to see. "How are you? Looking for Feo?"
"Oh," she flushed a little. "No, he's pretty busy right now. This party is crazy, huh?"
"Yeah, to match his vibe." Mirza said dryly, casting a look towards the friend in question. Feo was currently locked in Pari's grasp, and she was locked in a rapid conversation with a group of their graduating classmates, and he looked bored out of his mind. Mirza snickered.
"I..." Sloane began, "I had a question... it's not true, is it? The rumor about Sparrow?"
"Hm?" his attention returned to her, full-focus. "What rumor?"
"Oh." her eyes widened. "If you haven't heard it, it can't be true."
"What's the rumor?"
"It's pretty-- nasty, I wouldn't want to spread it," Sloane confessed, but Mirza's eyes narrowed. "Sloane. You can't do that. If you tell me you've heard a nasty rumor, you have to tell me the rumor. Don't be cryptic."
"Sorry! I just don't want you to think that I'm going around spreading it. Someone else told me," she gestured vaguely at the crowd. "I would have told them it can't be true but I didn't think--"
"Sloane, please. What's the rumor?"
"Well, people are... people are saying that she tried to..." Sloane paused, considering her words while glancing in Kyros's direction, which was odd. The prince was still entrenched in his discussion, though, so they were safe. Her voice lowered. "She tried to have sex with him while he was drunk and that's why she got kicked out of the palace."

"What?" Mirza took Sloane gently, by the elbow, so as not to make a scene, but quickly directed her in the opposite direction of his uncle, towards a more private corner of the room. Once he was certain that they were alone, and after double checking to make sure no one was within hearing distance, he pinned her down with a stare. "Who told you that?"
"Maria and Safiya," she said, naming two underclassmen. "But it's not just them, Mirza, there's like... there are a lot of people talking."
"That's not even remotely true."
"That's what I thought! I mean, it's... it's Sparrow," Sloane said, looking over at the spreads table, where Sparrow was still sandwiched in front of a pillar. Mirza canvassed the room, dread growing as he noticed the whispers and glances directed towards her. It wasn't like everyone was pointing and laughing - most people were still engaged in their own little schemes, completely oblivious to her presence - but now that he knew what he was looking at, it became apparent that the few who were staring, weren't just staring because of her reappearance.

"It was pretty crazy when she just didn't show up to school one day and then we all found out she was... gone." Sloane was falling over herself, trying to explain. "So, you know, it's always been kind of a... like, a cold case. But then people were saying tonight that Kyros got drunk and they kissed, and she, like... anyways, they're saying that she got booted out of the palace for overstepping, and I mean, I think most people don't believe it but it's just wild enough for them to..."
"That never happened," Mirza insisted. "That's not why she left at all. Holy shit, Sloane."
"Okay, but it's not like anyone thinks she was intentionally doing anything to him," Sloane rushed to add, gesturing widely as though to emphasize her words. "They're saying Sparrow offered herself up and it was like an ew, no situation -- not that she was trying to take advantage of him being drunk."
"Are you sure? Because that's not what it sounded like when you told me." Mirza's expression was one of bewilderment, his eyes flickering between Sparrow, the crowd, Kyros, and back to Sloane. "She would never do that. That's not just meaningless gossip, that shit is life-ruining."
"I know, I know-- I mean, I knew that people were wrong when they were saying all that stuff." Sloane repeated, clasping her hands together in an effort to keep them still. "I wanted to get the story straight, so I thought I'd ask... well, I thought I'd ask Feo, but it's his graduation night and I didn't want to ruin things, but I didn't want Sparrow to... I mean, this seems to happen to her a lot. Like when people were talking about why Sol hated her... and I know she's not that kind of person, she's just an easy target. But I didn't think it was my place to say anything to her."
"I get it," Mirza said, only half-listening. "Hey, where did you hear that rumor from? Do you know who the first person to spread it was?"
"No, I don't."
"Well..." he exhaled shortly, running a hand through his hair. "Okay. Thanks for telling me, I'll... I'll handle it." Somehow. First course of action would be to get Sparrow away from these wolves and try to keep her as oblivious as possible. It looked like a few were already readying their approach, perhaps meaning to get their gossip straight from the source as well, as they converged upon the snacks but with their gazes fixed on her.