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“I do not know–”

“Come now,” Phineas interrupted, making a gesture of impatience. He paced the width of the room and back, his agitation apparent. “You are not the first human to be bedded by a Glacian. Question is, for how long does he intend to fuck you?”

Farra’s jaw ticked. She felt hot, vicious anger swell in her chest. “Why?” she asked. “Have I taken your place?”

His laugh was mirthless – lip upturned to reveal his teeth. “It is a clever ruse, seducing him at a time of… weakness.”

Farra thought of all Thaddius Mesrich had confessed to her. The hairs along her neck stood on end. “Weakness? You refer to his morality, I presume?”

“I refer to his stupidity. His morality has long been his worst enemy, admirable as it is. You are merely the newest poison.”

Farra’s eyes did not swerve from the Glacian before her. “And so you’ve come in his defence?” she goaded. “Are my wiles so effective that even a weaponless human becomes a threat?”

Phineas’ fists clenched and he gave a withering smirk. “I see what he means. You are indeed dauntless.”

Farra spoke clearly, hiding a rising tremor. “This is no ruse,” she said. “I… I care for him.” She realised it was true as she said it. Somehow, the ploy and reality had tangled.

“And he for you,” Phineas said immediately. “And you have no clue of the danger he places himself in by doing so. The King will have his head if he learns the extent of his devotion. Already, he walks a thin line between deception and treachery.”

“Because I am human?”

“Because he is anoble, one of the King’s preferred, and you are serving to unraveleverything.”

Farra hesitated, Phineas’ proclamation rocking her.

“Should the King know his most prized has turned to the affections of a human, he will be killed. Do you understand that?” He pierced her with an accusatory stare, one that told her he did not understand the appeal. “Of all the prospects in Glacia, he had to go and fall in love with a human from the Ledge.” He shook his head, tired, exasperated.

“Will you reveal him to your King?”

“I will not need to,” Phineas said, turning back for the door. “You will be the death of him, not I. If you care for him… you will not allow this to go any further.”

“And then what should I do? Offer myself to the pool, or to the Chasm?” she called, a desperation taking hold of her.

Phineas looked at her one last time, raking her with his derisive judgement. “He will not allow either. Go to the Colony, andstaythere,” he said. “When he comes to you, send him away.”

“And if I ask you to take me elsewhere?” Farra questioned, stopping him before he could close the door. “Somewhere beyond Glacia? Allow me to be where I belong?”

“I would deny you,” he said cuttingly. “Unlike him, I would not risk my life to save yours.”

He closed the door firmly behind him.

Farra pushed Thaddius until he relented. She made him admit that everything Phineas had said was true, and though the thought of leaving her in the Colony sent his fist flying into his armoire, he assented with heavy eyes. She could not deny either of them one last evening together, but before dawn broke, they untangled their bodies reluctantly.

The Colony seemed a place of colour, where the palace was made of greys. The lean-tos and huts and makeshift tents made a kaleidoscope of chaotic rows. The mixed were even more variant, their skin no different to those on the Ledge. The differences between these Glacians and herself were more subtle. They were larger than her, their shoulders broader. Their facial structure more angular, still giving the impression of having been once cut from stone, even if their skin was of conflicting hue.

Farra was taken aback by the sheer volume of them. There must be twice as many as those on the Ledge, perhaps even three times as many.

“Do not trust all of them,” Thaddius murmured frantically. He guided her through the Colony with a hand clutched around her upper arm, his eyes skirting their surrounds ceaselessly. “They may have no interest in your soul the way the pure-bloods do, but they may very well alert your presence to the palace if they believe they can leverage it.”

But contrary to his words, every pair of eyes they encountered saw Thaddius and quickly diverted. She noticed how quickly the pathways emptied as they progressed down them.

“They fear you,” she stated quietly, watching a cluster of children break apart and scatter as they neared. “I do not think they will dare defy you, knowing you brought me here yourself.”

“Pray you are right,” he grunted. “Because I will balance on a knife’s edge every day, fearing it will tip.”

“You will tell them you sent me to the slave quarters if they ask. Tell them you’ve made better use of me… whatever you need to.”

His jaw went taut, flexing menacingly beneath the skin, and he said nothing. His pace quickened, and she struggled to keep up.