The months passed by in a steady crawl and Roche saw herself changing as much as Tigris. The princess had become less playful after her trials with Tarak and Orpheus. She sank into her duties as princess, involving herself more in her father's council meetings and often mingling among the people. She progressed as a warrior as well, her skill with melee weapons and firearms improving exponentially. Roche once watched her defeat half a battalion with one hand bound.

Roche wasn't without improvement either. Her frequent chores, hunts with Tigris, and private fighting practice with the princess had a meagre amount of muscle building on her wiry frame. She wasn't a knight by any means, but she could hold her own in a fight. She kept her hair clipped to her shoulders, revealing her broader back that peeked out of her gown.

Her progress wasn't just physical, either. With all the books in the library, her inkblood was strengthening. She could complete most single word incantations with half a thought, and newer incantations came naturally to her lips.

The Council kept sending minorly enchanted objects to the castle. Roche wasn't sure how they got in the castle, but she'd feel the oppressive press of malicious inkblood entering the castle at night. Sometimes, she'd see the cursed items clutched in the hands of new servants or maids who hadn't seen Tigris' loyalty to her people. As Tigris' maid, she used her status to privately speak with the steward and move those servants to roles far, far away. Then, she'd try to counter the curse on the objects.

It wasn't easy work. Sometimes, she'd end up cursed for a few days before she could undo the enchantment. At those times, Verita and Leinos would try to help her through whatever foul curse she faced. Bad luck, broken limbs, muscle cramps, invisibility, dreadful illness, and weapon magnetism were some of the milder curses.

Roche didn't want to think about that last one. Tigris' sword and multiple daggers had flown at her chest, managing to form deep gashes on her skin before she could disable the enchantment. For someone without inkblood, it would have been fatal.

Thankfully, it had been a few weeks since the Council had tried anything, from cursed objects to major plots to kill Tigris. Frankly, Roche found the lapse in assassination attempts deeply unnerving. She was run ragged searching for possible enchantments.

"I need a break. A vacation or something," Roche muttered to the guards as she took a moment to rest outside Tigris' door. She could hear Tigris' snores through the wood, and fought back a smile.

"Good luck with that. I've been petitioning for a vacation for weeks," one of the guards grumbled, slamming the butt of her spear against the stone floors petulantly. His partner cast him a sharp look..

"You took a vacation a month ago!"

"What's your point? I am in desperate need of another," groused the first guard, tired from his night shift. Roche smiled at him, tossing him one of Tigris' breakfast tarts. The guards gaped at her.

"W-we couldn't eat this! It's her breakfast!" the second guard gasped. Roche shrugged.

"Either you can eat it, or I will." she told him, heat filling her cheeks at their scrutinizing stare, "She won't notice it's missing. She never does."

"She lets you steal her breakfast?" the second guard asked, his bushy dark brows furrowing with suspicion. The first guard shrugged and downed the tart in one gulp.

"Are you surprised, Jer?"

Roche's cheeks burned. Her reputation as a maid with a lack of formality for her lady had circulated the castle. The king either didn't listen to the castle gossip or didn't care because Roche hadn't been reprimanded for her loose tongue yet. Even if she was, she wouldn't stop teasing Tigris. Someone needed to keep her royal ego in check, after all.

"Good luck. I heard she was awake doing reports last night." the first guard told her as she fumbled to unlock the door. Roche grimaced. She knew that because she'd been up helping Tigris with those very reports.

"Thanks," she muttered, throwing open the doors to slip inside. She closed them with a large bang that made Tigris groan loudly. "Wakey wakey, princess!"

Tigris reached for her bedside dagger, and Roche moved it away with a quick loop of inkblood. Tigris grumbled into her pillow unintelligibly. Roche tore away her blankets, layered to keep out the autumn chill.

"None of that, my lady! I don't have the time to lug you out of bed today!" Roche chided sternly, setting down Tigris' breakfast with one hand as she pulled out her makeup products with the other.

Tigris rolled onto her side, glaring at Roche through slitted eyes. "What could you possibly have to do that's more important than assisting the crown princess?" she muttered groggily. Roche cheerfully tugged away her pillow, feeling a wave of unfettered glee as the princess' cheeks reddened indignantly

"Verita needs me to get some sap from the forest so she can make ink, and Leinos asked me to get some fresh herbs for him along the way," she explained over Tigris' affronted squawk, "Meanwhile, you have a very important meeting with the merchant's guild, so you need to get out of that bed!"

Tigris finally managed to wrap her sleep addled hands around an object- a candleholder- and tossed it at Roche's head. Roche ducked, letting the waxy object smash against the wall. Tigris lazily uncurled from her position on the bed, yawning as she rose.

"I bet you're just going to the tavern again," she teased as she padded towards her washroom, closing the door behind her. Roche scowled at the closed door.

"I am not!" she protested. Tigris chuckled behind the door.

"Yes you are," Tigris said over the roar of running water, "You know, being my maid is a royal honour. Most people would kill to be able to serve me. But instead, you just drink and shirk your duties!"

"That's not true, I do a lot more than you realise!" Roche grumbled. Tigris laughed again, spitting out her toothpaste before she asked,

"Oh yeah? What's so important that you regularly neglect my laundry?"

"Protecting you," Roche replied earnestly. Tigris burst out into laughter like Roche had told her a joke. Roche tamped down a flare of irritation at the sound. Tigris saw her as a foolish, bumbling maid, like most of the castle's staff. Roche told herself that it was fine, keeping her secret to protect the princess was more important than everyone knowing who she truly was.

But that didn't mean it didn't sting.

"You're right. I suppose by leaving me alone for a few hours, you're protecting me from your god awful stories," Tigris replied, swinging the door to the washroom open. Roche perked up.

"Funny that you mention that. You won't believe what I read last night! Did you know that some scientists digging at the Tselts border found a carving with a story about-"

"A talking raven that a nation from before the dark ages worshipped. You've already told me about that one," Tigris sighed, rolling her eyes. Roche tutted, finally pulling out a soft petticoat from the mess of a closet. She resolved to clean that up later.

"No, that was what they found overseas in Amara! This was at the Irulian border with the Faultless Kingdom. They found an ancient crypt that dates back to an age before any of the dark ages! One of the carvings in the walls details the third dark age in surprising detail and the story of two lovers that were buried in the crypt."

"Nothing's more romantic than an apocalypse, I suppose," Tigris remarked dryly, snagging one of the fruit tarts Roche left on the study as Roche laced up the back of her gown as quickly as possible. Tigris frowned at her through the mirror. "You really are in a rush today. Are you sure you're not going drinking?"

Roche rolled her eyes. "Yes, my lady."

Tigris' eyes flashed at Roche's sarcastic use of the title, and Roche felt a flare of devious glee. "I think I'll see for myself what you're doing with your time."

"You have a meeting-"

"That's taking place in the lower town," Tigris answered smugly as Roche carefully kneaded a floral scented product into Tigris' wild curls, making them frame her face artfully. "Which means I can walk you to Leinos as he does his rounds,"

Roche shrugged. If that's what it took to get Tigris off her back, she'd do it. She wove back a few pieces of hair at the crown of Tigris' head with a silver headpiece. Tigris peered at her reflection as Roche brushed on a thin layer of makeup onto her pearly skin.

"Do you know if Kai will be in the lower town today?" Tigris asked. Roche tilted her head back, feeling a bittersweet flash of joy for her friend. Kai's crush on Tigris wasn't unreciprocated. Lately, Tigris had been asking after Finn's servant more, checking on his whereabouts. It was agonising seeing their shared affection for each other, an affection she would probably never experience with all of her secrets. She envied them for it.

She really wished they'd damn their hesitation and get on with the brewing romance. The tension was killing her.

"Why?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, "Did you want to ask him something?"

Tigris groaned loudly. "Don't be lewd,"

"Me?" Roche fluttered her lashes innocently, "Why, I'm just a prudish librarian who senses something stirring between you and my best friend."

Tigris' cheeks flushed, visible even through the makeup. She stood abruptly, narrowing her eyes at Roche.

"I've seen the things you read, Roche. You are anything but prudish."

"You didn't deny it."

Tigris scowled at her, snatching her documents from her desk. "Don't try to be clever, you fool."

"Whatever you say, princess."

Roche hid her chuckle as Tigris swatted at her. They quickly made their way out of the castle with Tigris' guards tailing them. The crisp fall air smelled of fresh harvest and damp leaves. The cobbled streets were wet after a fresh night of rain, and Roche's feet skidded on the stones with a wet squeak. Tigris rolled her eyes, catching Roche without even looking at her.

"I don't see Leinos anywhere," Tigris noted, smirking at Roche as she righted herself, "Were you lying to me?"

"No, I swear! He said he'd meet me in the lower town to get the list before he goes on his rounds. He'll be here with Verita at any moment." Roche explained, her eyes scanning the busy streets. They were oddly empty, the crowds pressing to the side. She could hear jeering further down the street along with the loud clatter of wheels and hooves.

"What's going on?" Roche asked, leaning forward on her toes. She could see some of the merchants sneering as they maneuvered their stalls to the side of the street. A large wooden cart appeared over the crests of the uphill street. It was small enough to be a livestock cart, tugged along by a majestic stallion that was ridden by a hefty man. Fruit and vegetable vendors were handing out rotten vegetables for passerbys to throw at the cart, and the rider's smile widened.

Tigris frowned and quickly averted her eyes. "That's a bounty hunter," she explained stiffly.

Roche's brow furrowed, "A hunter? What does he hunt?"

Tigris pressed her lips together, her face uncharacteristically blank. "Inkbloods," she answered tightly, "We'll learn more tonight."

Roche instantly felt sick. They hadn't spoken about inkblood since they'd saved Orpheus, but it was clear that Tigris' opinion on inkbloods that weren't part of the covens hadn't changed. She'd sat by her father and cheered along to the burnings that happened irregularly on the beach. After the wood shortage, the number of pyre lightings had been reduced but every so often Roche would spot sickeningly dark smoke curling up and away from the pale sands of the beach.

Her heart ached every time.

"Ah, there's Verita and Leinos," Tigris announced, her voice back to its usual, cheerful pitch. Roche swallowed, forcing a jubilant smile to her face as the castle elders slowly meandered down the street with handfuls of supplies.

The clopping of the bounty hunter's horse approached them from behind. Roche stepped back to make room. The hunter passed her, his cart rushing past Roche's face closely. She spotted a small, barred window in the back of the locked wooden cart. A small face appeared there, and Roche's breath caught in her throat.

All she could see among the shadows were two sets of wide, feminine eyes, marbled with a stunning mix of grey and blue. She met Roche's eyes, holding her gaze. The world seemed to slow. Roche felt a stirring in the depths of her stomach as they stared at each other, a mix of heat and inkblood. She tamped down a gasp.

A rotten tomato smashed into the metal bars, nailing the inkblood woman in the face. The woman had ducked back down, but not before foul smelling pulp splattered against her eyes.

Roche swallowed a shout of surprise and anger, her inkblood roiling.

"Ah, Roche! You made it on time!" Verita called out.

Roche spun around, trying to smooth out her expression as Verita and Leinos approached, arms linked. Tigris' face turned slightly green at the sight of their flushed faces, and Roche knew that the princess hadn't forgotten their almost kiss.

Roche let the thought distract her from the captured inkblood. She nodded mutely. Tigris turned to her.

"I suppose you weren't lying, then," the princess conceded.

"I never am,"

Tigris clapped Roche on the shoulder. "Sure. Enjoy your day mucking around in the forest. I expect you to be able to serve me dinner, of course."

Ah yes. The kingdom would fall apart if the princess didn't have her supper. Normally, Roche would make a quip, but her eyes lingered on the cart disappearing behind the princess. She opted to nod instead. Tigris' face flashed with approval, then she and her guards were off, walking deeper into the lower town.

Roche turned to Verita and Leinos the moment the princess was gone, her cheerful mask dropping.

"Did you see the bounty hunter?" she asked.

Verita and Leinos exchanged a look.

"We did," Leinos told her sympathetically, "I know it isn't an easy thing for you to see, Roche. I'm sorry."

Verita was much more pragmatic with her response. Her hawkish eyes burrowed into Roche's.

"Don't go near that man, Roche." the librarian warned her sternly, "Bounty hunters capture all kinds of inkbloods for the king. They're smart, trusted, and paid very highly. They won't care that you're Tigris' maid. If they find any evidence of your inkblood, they'll have you in chains."

Roche gritted her teeth, the captured woman's desperate eyes flashing in her mind again.

"I could get that inkblood out of here," she muttered sourly, "It's unfair that I get to hide because my inkblood's invisible while other innocent people die."

Verita gripped Roche's shoulders. "You'll do no such thing!" she whispered harshly. Roche opened her mouth to protest and Verita shook her slightly. "I'm serious, Roche. Aiding an inkblood is a crime punishable by death."

"She's right," Leinos chimed in, wincing when Roche turned her glare on him, "You can't help Tigris achieve her destiny if you're dead."

Roche couldn't believe the two of them. She'd gotten Orpheus out safely, even if she'd needed a little help. If she was quick and smart, she could get this woman out of the city without anyone noticing.

"Roche?" Verita's voice drew her out of her thoughts. The librarian's face was set with a deadly serious expression, "Promise me you won't do anything foolish."

Roche shoved her thoughts to the back of her mind and pasted a bland smile on her face.

"You know me, Verita. I'm never foolish."

-------

Roche tucked herself against the shadows of a closed stall, burrowing into the darkness as two guards walked right past her. She smelled of wildflowers, mulch, and soaked bark after her day plotting the captured inkblood's escape in the woods.

Highlighted by the flickering street lamps, the wooden livestock cart was tucked against the street. The bounty hunter circle around the fruit splattered window. His rotund frame was hulking in the darkness that descended over the city. He swiped a fresh spate of rain out of his cunning dark eyes, his arms full of his wares brought with bountiful coin.

Roche's blood boiled. That coin had been made over the pyres of many innocent people. Children, even. She clenched her fists tightly.

The hunter set down his wares gently, smiling at the passing guards broadly. The expression faded the moment they passed. He wrapped his meaty fingers around the bars of the cart's window and slammed his weight against them, heaving his face up to take up the full view.

From inside the cart came a terrified shriek. Roche tamped her inkblood down, searing fury burning her skin like a pyre as the hunter laughed at the reaction.

"I'm going to get a drink," he told the whimpering woman, his voice low, raspy, and utterly menacing, "If you even move an inch, I'll make sure the king carves the inkblood from your veins before you burn. Do you understand me?"

There came a stony silence. Roche felt the weak flicker of resistance from her place across the street. The hunter's eyes flashed murderously.

"I said, do you understand, you lowly bitch!" he roared, slamming himself against the bars hard enough that the wood cracked. Roche flinched at the erratic movement, and the woman in the cart let out a short scream of sheer terror before she could control herself. Her clear, warbling voice rang through the rain soaked air.

"I understand! I understand!"

Roche's stomach flipped. The hunter leaned back with a leery smile

"Good," he purred, "I'll make sure your burning is a quick one, sweet thing."

Nausea crept up Roche's throat. The hunter turned on his heel, marching into the busy tavern. Roche watched him through the large window as he flipped his gold coin at the bartender, settling into a seat next to a burning hearth. His bald head gleamed with drying droplets of rainwater. The patrons around him smiled, clapping his shoulder like he was an old friend.

Lightning flashed across the sky, accompanied by a deafening crash of thunder. Roche rolled her shoulders back, lifting the hood of her drenched cloak. It was now or never.

She crept across the street, cursing when she noticed she was in full view of the tavern. She couldn't spare a moment to worry about that, though.

Roche pressed her hands against the rusted lock firmly latched around the wooden doors.

Ancinda.

The lock popped open easily. Roche threw the doors open, rushing into the cart. The woman within leapt to her feet frantically, backing herself against the corner. Thick chains wrapped around her wrists and ankles. Roche could see a ring of blood surrounding her.

"G-get back!" the woman stammered, cowering away. Her swirling eyes were framed by long, dark lashes beaded with droplets of water.

Roche splayed out her hands placatingly at the woman's obvious terror.

"It's okay," Roche whispered, keeping her voice soothing, "I'm here to get you out."

The woman flinched as Roche neared her, but didn't pull away. Roche knelt in front of her, heart hammering in her chest as she pressed her hands around the manacles.

Ancinda.

Nothing happened. She repeated the incantation aloud to no avail.

"They're lined with rubber," the captured inkblood whispered, voice harried. Her gaze was heavy with resignation, "It's meant to resist inkblood. You must run while you have the chance."

Roche gritted her teeth. There was a crash outside. She cursed. The hunter must have seen the open doors through the window.

She quickly worked her hands away from the rubber lined manacles to the thick metal chains.

"Pweros muinor," she hissed, inkblood making her tongue tingle. She fed her strength into the incantation. Thunder boomed outside as the chain burned red hot, metal dripping to the ground. Rain leaked through the rotting wood, sizzling as it met the cooling globs of metal.

The captured inkblood gasped.

Footsteps pounded outside. Roche wasted no time, sweat dripping down her face with fresh droplets of rainwater as she repeated the incantation with the chains around the woman's legs. The chains fell away in glowing pools. The woman immediately stood up, finally free to move.

Shouts neared the door as Roche held out her hand. Rain dribbled down the inkblood's tawny cheeks like tears as she lurched forward to grab it.

Roche tugged her out of the cart, maneuvering her onto the cobbled street.

"Hey! Stop right there!" came the bounty hunter's shout. The man was charging towards her with four knights flanking him. Roche swallowed the frantic pulse of fear that bleated in her chest.

"Run," she hissed to the woman, tugging her up the street. Her mind raced as they ran, eyes muddled by the sheets of rain slicking the streets. The men stood between her and the forest. Roche bit back a curse.

"This way," Roche instructed, half dragging the woman behind her. Lightning illuminated the sky as Roche pulled her towards the castle. The woman stiffened as they charged through the main gates with a blast of inkblood, past several shouting guards. Roche paid them no mind, even as they gave chase. Unlike with Orpheus, she knew exactly where she was going.

They charged towards an empty wing near the library. Roche swiped rainwater out of her eyes, her fingers scrabbling against the brick wall of the hallway. She'd discovered the passageway not long ago, but now she wasn't sure if she could open it.

"Come on, come on," she muttered, hearing the thrum of voices echoing down the halls. Suddenly, her palm connected with a slightly sunken brick. She pushed with all her might, grinning as the entire wall swung inwards with a squeal of rusty hinges.

The inkblood's jaw dropped.

"Quickly!" Roche urged her. The woman wasted no time diving into the tunnel. Roche leapt in after her, slamming the hidden door shut behind them.

The woman whimpered quietly as blaring shouts permeated through the wall. The knights and the hunter were snarling at each other, their footsteps coming to a halt just outside their wall.

Roche's pulse boomed in her ears. She held her breath, counting the seconds trickling by. She heard the ragged, frantic inhale of the woman beside her, and wished she could speak to her for a moment, if only to comfort her.

They both sat, petrified, for an eternity. Then, the footsteps drew away from them, furious and clipped, like the bounty hunter and his knight friends were storming off into another hallway. Roche didn't dare move, shaking in the darkness for several more minutes before she risked rising to a kneel.

"Gwylluxi," she incanted, relieved when her voice came out strong and steady. A ball of silvery light materialized between them. The woman pressed away from Roche, scrambling back on her hands and knees once she realised how close they were sitting. Her fear was so potent that Roche nearly choked on it.

"It's alright," she soothed gently, "He won't find you here. I'm just going to take that horrible metal off you. Is that alright?"

The woman blinked like she was coming out of reverie. She stared at Roche for a moment before carefully extending her trembling hands. Roche quieted her mind, focusing on the inkblood repellent cuffs. She tilted the woman's wrist, pulling out a dagger from her boot, one of the few Tigris had gifted her.

The woman went stock still, but didn't pull away as Roche slid the blade between the metal and her bloodied skin, carefully sawing away the rubber lining the cuffs. It fell away in long, offending curls. Roche was so focused on her work that she almost didn't hear the woman speak.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked, her voice low but sharp. If her voice could be an object, it would be a crystal, jagged and rough but cool and beautiful. Roche glanced up, wiggling her fingers.

"You've seen what I can do," she murmured gently, "What flows through your veins also runs through mine. If fate had other plans, it would be me in that cart."

The woman's marbled ocean grey eyes traced Roche's face with quiet curiosity that made Roche's skin tingle. "You have inkblood."

"I do," Roche answered, the words making her heart flutter like a trapped bird.

The woman's shoulders shuddered as the knife scraped close to her tender flesh. She kept still with visible effort. "Yet you stay in the city?"

"I do." Roche bit her lip with concentration, scraping away the last of the rubber. She slipped her knife back into her boot, placing her hands on the bands of metal. With a mental incantation, the cuffs fell away from the woman's wrists easily.

Immediately, the inkblood rubbed her bloodied skin, her face relaxing with relief. Roche smiled at her gently, kneeling to undo the metal around her ankles. Silence stretched between them, hesitant and fearful. A deadly secret had been shared between them, whispered under a light that shouldn't exist.

The woman stared up at the ball of light Roche had summoned. Roche felt a stir of inkblood, and suddenly the ball of light was in the woman's hands. She petted it with trembling fingers, like the light was a bird cupped between her palms. The tension seeped from the woman's frame slowly.

"I'm Roche," she blurted out, entranced by the beautiful sight.

The light shifted into a warm, amber colour. The inkblood smiled, a warped, pointed thing that was somehow still intact after the frightening chase.

"My name is Medea."

A/N: I'm not even going to pretend that this isn't late LOL. So sorry y'all. I've barely had time to write. Updates might need to to slow down to every other day, but I'll keep posting daily for as long as I can.

What do you think of Medea? This arc is going to tear your heart in two and glue it back together again, so... get ready y'all :)