Alice Edgley was on edge. These days she had to go completely out of her way to avoid Hansard, even though nightly dinners were compulsory and visits to her room before bed had become routine. He was becoming increasingly forward, and she was already uncomfortable enough as it was with his advances. It was that and the thought of Ellion being stuck in a cold dungeon and her sister hating her and her Father's lifeless body that occupied her thoughts every minute of every day and it pushed her to stay strong. She was doing all that she could. She eyed the special outfit sitting on the corner of her lounge that Hansard had hinted he'd want her to wear for the battle. It was completely impractical, but he didn't plan on her getting involved in the fighting. At least that's what he had told her. She wouldn't be surprised if he shoved her amid the carnage in her ridiculous outfit to die. He'd made her believe he loved her while plotting to kill her once before, why not again?
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The voice in her head told her the time was coming. She knew she better hurry up with her plan or her efforts would be for nothing.
Azealia Raven was dreading seeing this prisoner. She'd only ever seen him once before and it wasn't exactly on great terms. He'd never know her, of course. She felt sickness rise in her stomach and she locked onto his metallic eyes and flitted away as they'd connected in disgust.
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"Have we met?" he questioned, slight recognition in his expression.
"No, but perhaps the person you're thinking of is someone else," she replied, knowing exactly who she reminded him of.
"Are you here to try and convince me to destroy the world? Because while I believe in mages ruling over the mortals, I'd like to live." he shrugged. "I'm an honourable man, I have a reputation of heroism to uphold."
"Such honour to stab a man in the back. Both in the figurative and literal senses." She said coldly, and the clouds cleared from his face.
"Ah, I see. How could I not see it before? I must admit, I never thought I'd see you on this side." he muttered as he swept her over, metallic eyes grazing every inch of her to the point where she felt uncomfortable.
"Blinded men rarely see what they don't want to face. I suppose I remind you of the life you used to have and how you destroyed it." Azealia responded.
"If you came here to make me feel guilty, mission accomplished." The man grumbled.
"I didn't. I – regretfully- need your help. I don't agree with the philosophies of the people who run this place. I may not trust you, but I need you. We all need you. So, if there is ever going to be a time to redeem yourself to any degree, this is it." She took a step closer.
She had seen several people that day. A lot of whom terrified her. Thankfully, she had something to offer them all, and they'd all agreed. Things were really coming together. And it couldn't have been sooner, because the message reached her ears that time had come for war. Azealia slipped into her dress and shoes as a knock on the door awoke her from her panicked thoughts. Her sweaty palms slid off the material of her dress as she tried to dry them, and she cleared her throat, answering, "Come in."
