Eden pressed her lips together, but crept forward. As she passed, Atlas's hand moved to ghost what must have been only an inch from the small of her back. A gentle attempt to guide her.

“Touch me and I’ll gut you,” she said.

Atlas chuckled under his breath. “We’ll head to the other end. There is a window that leads inside.”

A window? Noted.

“Is that how you got up here?” Eden asked, feigning disinterest.

“It’s the only way I know. I’m much more curious as to how you came to be up here.”

“I climbed.”

“You climbed?”

“Yes. I used your guards as spring-boards,” she lied. “At least they were useful in that way.”

“I’m relieved to hear they didn’t interrupt your spying.”

“Spying is a strong word. I was merely observing.”

“Observing what?” he asked, a harshness painting his tone.

“Nothing,” she replied, still walking casually along the seam of the shingled roof.

“Nothing only because I hadn’t shown up yet,” he surmised.

“Naturally.”

She swore she could feel his gaze drilling into the back of her head, but he chose to remain silent. Probably debating on whether meandering around with her was a good idea. She’d let him regret it.

“Are you surprised?” Eden asked, more out of curiosity than care.

“Only about your level of honesty.”

“I’m only saying what everyone else is thinking.”

“It’s the fact that you’re saying it that is the fascinating part.”

Eden reeled in her tone a bit, unnerved. “There is nothing remotely fascinating about stating the truth. Everyone here has their own agenda, and you are their main ambition. You don’t have to be modest about it, your Highness.”

“Am I your ambition too?”

Eden pulled up near the edge of the roof, location the open window on the other side of a twenty foot drop. There were people strolling below, completely oblivious to them. Once she made this jump… it would be her first time inside the palace.

“Of course you are,” Eden said without timidity. Maybe her ‘level of honesty’ would scare him off. From his tone and words, she was gathering that he didn’t like being people’s main ambition.

No, the word was conquest. By admitting that she was like them, she was in truth, protecting herself. His curiosity wouldn’t delve much deeper, and it was clear that he wanted to stay away from stalkers and succubus’s.

“But you’re not here to seduce me,” Atlas said. There was no question in it. No uncertainty. “I heard it in your voice. You were surprised I accused you.”

Eden exhaled through her nose. “Of course I was. In what world does a knife being pointed at you mean I want to sleep with you?”

“You’re common born, then.”

Eden froze, and she was sure her shoulders visibly tensed. He was analyzing her. He was analyzing her correctly. “Excuse me?” she dared asked.

“If you were part of the court, you would know that in my world seduction and a knife go hand in hand.”

Eden said nothing about his theory, but her cheeks actually felt hot. This was why talking was a problem; talk too much, you pay the price. Information.

But even still, common born was a title too high for the likes of her. She and her late brother were born on the street and were convinced they would die there until Thetan found them, and took them in. Now, she wasn’t sure what her station was. The members of the Lakehouse considered themselves a part of a different whole. They were neither here nor there, highborn nor low. They didn’t tangle with the rest.

Outsiders looking in.

“Can you make this jump, or do you need assistance?” Atlas asked.

Eden shook herself out of her stupor, realizing it must have looked like she was hesitating because of the wide gap between the roof she was standing on and the palace window.

“I don’t need help,” she replied, backing up a few steps and taking a running start at the window. She cleared the jump with ease, her fingers hooking onto the sides of the sill and her feet landing on the bottom ledge. She hauled herself inside and dropped onto the floor.

A floor that was so smooth it was actually shocking. Eden had never seen anything like it; the pathways laced throughout the city consisted of cobblestones that were uneven and tilted. The further from the palace a person ventured, the more jarring the walk became. She’d sprained her ankle more than once on them.

But these black and white stones were perfect squares, fitted so snugly together that there was barely a gap between them to get her fingernail through. If she had sailed through the window and landed on the floor instead, she would have made a fool of herself by slipping. Of that she was certain.

There was a gentle gust of wind from behind, and a moment later she heard Atlas tap down. “What are you doing?” he asked. There was amusement in his voice.

“Nothing,” she said, continuing to run her fingers over the stone in admiration.

He came to her side and crouched. “It’s marble.”

Marble. Noted.

She stood up, frozen next by the sheer magnificence of the ceiling. If it could be called a ceiling at all. She felt Atlas rise slowly beside her.

Whorls in time. That’s all she could think. The ceiling – it wasn’t carved or crafted by man like the floor obviously was. Made of domes and divots, of powder blue and sapphire layers stacked and stacked and stacked by weight and time. It was a whirlwind of water that had carved and pressed the stone into the sheer smoothness. Eden didn’t doubt its stability either.

This was here long before humans ever were.

“You’ve never been in here,” Atlas said quietly.

Jerking back into awareness, Eden lowered her head and hoped her face hadn’t been too visible. It was dim in the halls. There was barely any light aside from the ambient light springing in through the windows and getting trapped in the reflective maze of the ceiling.

“I haven’t,” she said, finding the statement odd. “Nobody comes in here unless invited.”

“How I wish that were true,” he replied, striding forward. “Take your time then. I imagine this is all pretty fascinating to you. I’ll be on the balcony. Straight ahead.”

“You’re just going to let me wander?" Eden asked in disbelief. “I could steal something.”

Reaching the end of the hall, Atlas threw open the frosted glass doors to reveal a starry sky and said balcony. Eden could hear the sea clearly. He moved to the left and out of view, but a moment later the heel of his boot tapped down just inside the frame of the doors and of her vision.

He was sitting.

“You’re not an assassin or a seductress. If a petty thief is all you are, I’ll be relieved.”

‘What the hell…’ Eden thought, turning to the nearest display. It was a giant pearl encased in glass. It had to be worth a fortune. He didn’t even care.

Luckily, neither did she. Thetan saw to all their needs; clothes, housing, education. There was enough food to keep them fed but never enough for them to become gluttonous.

All of this in return for a lifetime of servitude – in exchange for their freedom. It didn’t bother Eden. She had seen the streets at a young age – she’d seen what freedom had to offer. It wasn’t all that it was chalked up to be.

That wasn’t to say she didn’t care about money, but Thetan was the one who handled the investments. Which meant that he spent a great deal of his time handling the six of them, his protégés. They all had talents of immeasurable worth. Clients clawed at him for information that she gathered. They would give an arm and a leg for Rosie’s company, for Crane’s healing, for Cricket’s combat. For Calamity’s ability to plant rumors, or Calm’s knack for easing tension.

He secretly owned many dwellings just in case they needed to up and move at a moment’s notice, and had his toe dipped into many of the local’s businesses. Some shady. Some not. Some of which she had been dispatched on her own to examine because it was too damaging for Rose to be seen. Namely, the brothel.

The brilliant pearl in front of her was nothing in comparison to spoils of her mission. She wouldn’t be blinded by paltry baubles such as this, when the king and his magic were sitting feet away.

‘Who do you think I am?’ she thought, amused.

Ignoring the striking paintings, sculptures and furniture that lined the hallway, she proceeded to the balcony where Atlas waited, only stopping to check the immaculately kept rooms along the way but finding no one and nothing of concern.

“Is this private enough for you?” the king asked when she finally reached him.

Eden crossed her arms and ignored the question. “What do you want? I don’t have time for these games.”

His brow furrowed. “You’re displeased I pulled you away from the party?”

“No,” Eden admitted. “I hate parties.”

“Hn. That explains why you were on my roof.” He tilted his head. “So, why are you troubled?”

“I was looking for you.”

Something hardened in his eyes. An expression darkened more thanks again to the bags under them. “And now you’ve got me.”

Eden leaned back on the railing and scowled, though he likely could only see her mouth with any clarity. “I said I was looking for you, and you know,” she chopped the air in front of her, “I prefer to look at things from a distance.”

The coldness in his eyes disappeared, completely melting into genuine mirth. “So this is too close for comfort. Is that it?”

Eden tightened her crossed arms. “You tell me. You were up there too. Why?”

Atlas flicked his grey-green eyes off to the side thoughtfully and let his cheek fall into his fist. He took a few moments to speak the creased between his brows deepening. “I was watching the women.”

Noted. A valuable piece of information.

“At least you’re honest,” she quipped.

“You disapprove?”

“On the contrary,” Eden paused and mauled her words over carefully, “I was waiting to see who you would choose.”

Atlas smiled faintly, tired. “Why?”

“Because it’s imperative that you choose right.”

The king faced her more fully and lowered his arm down to the wooden arm rest. “I agree, candid stranger, though I’m curious as to why you say that.”

“I needn’t tell you how dangerous your power is, or that you can’t just go flinging half of it at the first woman who knows how to bat her lashes at the proper angle and play coy.”

Gods, was she scolding him?

He blinked. “There is actually an angle?”

Eden sighed and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “Of course there is an angle.”

“How do these women know—”

“Madam Vivierre,” Eden quipped quickly. “Runs a popular establishment on the south end. Trains courtesans mostly. Lately she’s been promising her skills to any riffraff that walks through her door.”

“Out of the goodness of her heart, I’m sure.”

“In exchange for a ten percent cut of whatever earnings your bride-to-be has access to. If you choose any one of her clients, you’ll make her a very wealthy woman.”

“So I can’t trust anyone now,” Atlas said grimly, his mouth pulling into a hard line. He looked away, concerned. “A common shoe shiner is trained in the art of seduction.”

“They prefer it to be called the art of companionship,” Eden supplied helpfully.

It drew a chuckle from him as he pushed himself to his feet. “So, are you?”

“Am I what?”

He came over slowly, bracing his forearms against the railing just next to her. “Trained in seduction.”

“No.”

“What about companionship – if the word meant what it once did.”

“Hmm,” Eden hummed, pretending to think about it. “Still no. I don’t have time for that.”

Roselle was her only true companion. Her only true priority and concern.

“Neither do I…” Atlas echoed, turning his gaze to the sea, the breeze ruffling his mahogany hair. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught him looking troubled again.

“I don’t understand,” the Loon hinted. “Clearly all you have is time with the way you comb through these women like the waves comb the beach. You’re unhappy with this batch? Don’t worry. The tide will bring in something new and shiny in a few hours.”

“You are quite ruthless.”

“Realistic.”

“Same thing.”

Eden pushed away from the railing. “I’m pleased you know that.”

“This is about the time that the women I invite to accompany me begin to drop their coyness in favor of being coquettish,” Atlas said, turning to keep her in view. “But I sense no impending change in you.”

“I told you I wasn’t trained for that sort of thing.”

“I pray you never are.”

“Careful,” Eden warned, just barely turning her head to glance over her shoulder at him. “Be careful about what you say. I’m a curiosity, I get it. But now I know the chink in your armor.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Sure. You fancy those who don’t give a damn about you.”

Atlas crossed his arms and legs. “Regretfully, I can’t quite help myself. If only you knew what it was like to be smothered each day in pretty lies and counterfeit kindness... all for the sake of my magic.”

Eden sniffed, unsympathetic. “If only.”

“But your assumption is not entirely correct,” he continued. “I’m not interested in you because you don’t give a damn. I’m interested in why you don’t.”

Eden glanced off, feigning disinterest. “You want to know the motive for my lack of care,” she said, and smiled just a bit to herself beneath her hood. “That is funny.”

“Is it?”

“It’s not my job to seduce you. It’s not my job to care,” she said. It was brutally honest and totally true but without context, it seemed like just another cold statement. Rose was in charge of that aspect of this mission. And now, Eden had done more than enough reconnaissance – albeit a little unorthodoxly – to send her in prepared the next time.

Her partner would be armed to the teeth… with a cold shoulder.

A gravelly laugh tore out of her throat at the thought. She paid it no mind. “Well, I need to get back,” she said, excusing herself into the hall.

Atlas followed behind her, his voice a little too close for comfort. “Back? To where?”

“To the sand bar on the west side where they serve peach tea only at this time at night,” Eden said. “Where else? The party, of course.”

“Are you serious?” the king balked, clearly baffled. He didn’t put a hand on her, but something about the way he tailed her made her think he might try.

“You said you hated parties.”

“I do, but there is work to be done.” Rosie was probably worried sick.

“And I’m not there,” Atlas pressed, actually moving in front of her to cut her off.

She forgave him briefly, stopping and letting out a long sigh of exasperation. “Shockingly, I noticed that.”

The king narrowed his eyes and lowered his head just slightly. His arm was arced just around her, not touching, but enough that she was feeling a little cramped.

“You said I was your ambition – that you’re waiting for me to choose.”

Eden stared right through his ornate golden chest plate. “Correct.”

Soft, but daring words escaped his lips. “I choose you for the night.”

“I’m not a choice,” she responded automatically, all monotone and control. Inside, her heart was slamming against her ribs in panic. “I’m just a curiosity.”

A little rougher than intended, she pushed past him.

“Curiosity… have you ever seen Brontide?”

Eden pulled to a slow stop. Why would he ask that? Did he know that she had glimpsed the God hundreds of times? Did he know if that was normal?

“I can show him to you,” he said. It wasn’t at all what Eden was expecting. “I can call him to me.”