◇Daddy, Will You Take Me to the Mill Again?◇

(Ula Pov)

Ula and Urtzi wound down the dizzying flights of stairs. Ula had given Urtzi a quick rundown of what was going on and the plan. They had agreed not to tell Luca Amarande was pregnant, letting her be the one to break the news to him. This was purely to set up the meeting between them.

They unlocked the door, expecting to see Luca where he usually resided, resting on the table with a thin quilt pulled over his body. However, he was absent, a pool of blood taking his spot.

Ula's heart clenched in her chest, thinking the worst. Urtzi reached for her arm, bracing himself.

"Luca?" she called, venturing further into the room.

"Here."

She turned to the far end of the room where the boiler was situated. Luca sat in an armed chair, that frayed quilt pulled around his shoulders. The air had begun to aquire an autumn chill, but being so far underground and with him being from the mountians, it seemed like a trivial drop in temperature.

"What did Taillefer do?" Ula dared ask.

Her and Urtzi were no strangers to the horrors Taillefer could come up with. They'd walked into the aftermath of his twisted curiosities so many times, it was difficult to shock them. But this—blood in puddles on the ground, Luca huddled up to a source of warmth, his skin scarily pale and gaunt—was such a petrifying sight. He swayed, as if any moment he would drop.

It took a moment for him to gather the strength to awnser. "He did an operation. I was awake for it. He took... something out and put it in a jar, and..."

Luca's head lolled, eyes sliding shut. Ula reached for him, shaking his shoulders to keep him awake. He yelped, clutching his side, gritting his teeth.

She pulled back, shocked at his intense reaction. She exchanged a look with Urtzi. He had been asked to commit many atrocities by Dunixi and their employers. He always obeyed, following orders. But this. This was enough to make him look green

"Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?" She asked.

Luca pulled his eyes up, forcing a pained grin on his face. "I'm alright. I just... need some time."

It was unnatural to watch. He was in such clear pain. But here we was, smiling at her, looking a wisp away from joining the stars. It didn't seem possible for this to be occuring.

Urtzi padded over to the jar, stepping over the maroon stains on the floor. He squinted at the looping script, his brown eyes growing wide. "Ula, come look at this."

Ula looked between the two boys. Luca had closed his eyes again, shuffling deeper into the warmth of the blanket. Not passing out, she realized, but resting. She stepped away from him to join Urtzi's side.

She read the writing. It was Luca's spleen, preserved in a formula of chemicals. Beside it, was in-depth descriptions of the surgery. From the beginning cut to the final stitch. It was truly vile. She had to take a step away from it, choosing for her own sanity to focus on Luca.

"This complicates things," she murmured to him.

He snorted, immediately regretting it with a wince. "You're telling me this?"

"No, I mean," Ula chewed on her words, making sure they came out carefully, "We were trying to set up a rendezvous for you and Amarande."

Luca sat up, strength renewed. He still had that sickly, colorless palor to him, but his eyes were bright with news of his love. "What?"

"She wanted us to find a way to set a meeting spot up for you two," she explained. "But now... this happened."

"I can still walk," he interjected. "I managed to get over here myself."

"Up five flights of stairs?" Ula challenged.

"If that's what it must take."

She shook her head. "No, you could hurt yourself—"

Luca gripped her forearm. She knew it was supposed to show strength in his resolve, but in reality, his shocking weakness worried her further. "Please," he begged. "I must see with my own two eyes she is safe. Information you two give me isn't enough. I need to see her face."

Ula opened her mouth in a rebuttal, but Urtzi beat her to a response, "We'll bring you to the surface as soon as we see an opening."

She met eyes with him from across the room. She wanted to argue it was too much of a risk, but Urtzi held firm, his posture unwavering. Ula was one for a good back-and-forth, but she knew a losing fight when she saw one.

(Luca Pov)

Taillefer was not kidding when he said he wanted a living test subject. Luca had been through countless horrors on the mad prince's whims. Poultices that made him itch. Elixirs to make him violently ill. Sedatives to knock him out for days on end, residual dizziness keeping him bedbound.

The most recent experiment gave him furious hives, rashes covering his skin. But they had been gone for days now, and Taillefer hadn't come down for any further notes. That heightened Luca's anxiety. When he was given a rest from the chemicals, that usually meant he was in for something worse.

When allowed the break from the tests, he was able to wander his dungeon. The only caveat was that all the poisons were locked up, likely to keep Luca from downing them as an escape from this nightmare. Clearly, Taillefer learned nothing about Luca over the months spent together. He wouldn't dare cease his own existence with Amarande still up on the surface.

Rattling of the lock drew Luca's attention to the door. Anytime Taillefer was planning a new concoction to test, he entered the room with a cold type of precision. This time, he had a sickening smirk on his face. He held a delicate knife. Not the gaudy, clunky dagger he usually weilded, but a slender, streamlined blade.

Taillefer pointed the knife toward the testing table. "Up you go," there was a giddy quality to his voice. "Off with your shirt, too."

Luca did as he was asked. It hadn't been since that first night in the Bellringe that he was asked to remove his tunic. That meant whatever Taillefer had been plotting, was becoming a reality. The manacles were clamped around his arms and legs. A leather strap was tightened across his chest, restricting further movement.

Taillefer set up a multitude of tools on the table. Blades and jars and water bowls. "Keep still, and this will go quicker," he warned.

Luca followed his movement. Taillefer raked his eyes across Luca's upper abdomen. His fingers probed just under the left side of Luca's ribs. His brows quirked inquisitively, a satisfied grunt punctuating the slice of the knife.

A gasp released from Luca's lungs. He'd been through far worse, but it was a different kind of pain. It was digging deep into his body cavity. Taillefer shifted around the organs, and Luca could feel every movement of his body tissues.

He let out a cry of pain. His diaphragm constricted, exasperating the stinging of the gash. He forced his eyes open, to his detriment, to see his own blood pooling on the floor. It bled freely from the wound. Taillefer made to move to stop it, continuing his intense concentration at whatever was busying him inside the body cavity.

Dizziness took hold. Luca was unsure whether it was from blood loss or panic. Either way, the world tilted and black spots danced in his vision.

"Hey! Wake up!" Taillefer slapped the side of Luca's face, hard enough to sting.

Luca lifted his head, forcing himself to stay conscious. His breathing was labored, but the strap across his chest kept him from drawing up the amount of oxygen he wished to use. The claustrophobia boxed him in his own mind. Anxiety closed in on him, and he quickened his breath to bring in more air.

"Hey, stop!" Taillefer demanded. "You're making this more difficult than it needs to be."

Luca sobbed. The pain was beginning to be too much. It went on for ages, an ache in his very soul.

Finally, Taillefer grinned. He yanked out a fleshy blob of tissue, an organ Luca assumed. One he hoped wasn't vital. It was rather small, and one he hadn't seen in the books from the Itspi's library. He prayed to the stars that was a good sign.

Taillefer deposited the organ into a jar on the tableside. He passed thread through the eye of a needle and began to sew Luca up from the inside out.

Luca groaned with every stitch. Taillefer's eyes barely flicked to his attention. Once the wound was tended to—stitched up, applied antiseptic, and dressed—Taillefer turned to the jar. He mixed up a few liquids, securing it in with the container.

He scribbled some of his findings down, including a label for the jar. A satisfied smile lit up his eyes. He regarded Luca with a nod and undid his shackles before trekking up the stairs.

Finally, Luca could breathe properly. He gulped in gasps of the stale air, but to his lungs, it was as sweet as lemon cake. He curled onto his side opposite of the wound, an involuntary whine escaping him. He prayed that would be the worst of Taillefers' ideas, but knowing the prince, there could be more to come.

(Amarande Pov)

Amarande hunched over the chamber pot in her bathroom. She'd been feeling terribly ill for days now. It was a shock to her that Renard was actually leaving her alone. It appeared the one fear he had in regards to her, was getting vomited on.

If she didn't feel so awful, she'd be smug. Renard had kept suggesting a meduka visit, but Amarande shut it down fast. She had an inkling what was happening, and she wasn't brave enough to find out yet. Even worse, she didn't want him to be one of the first to know.

A knock on her bedroom door had her pulling her head from the basin. "Who is it?"

"Osana," she announced.

"Come in," Amarande croaked.

Osana swung open the door, searching the bedroom for Amarande. She noticed the door to the bathroom cracked and placed the tray she was carrying on the nightstand. She crouched beside Amarande, pulling her hair back.

"There's breakfast on that tray if you'd like it," Osana said slowly, testing the waters.

Amarande shook her head. "Stars no." She wrapped her arms around her sloshing stomach. "I just can't."

Osana brought the back of her hand to feel against Amarande's forehead. She frowned, dark brows furrowing together. "No fever?"

"No fever," Amarande agreed. She swallowed back bile. "Can you get Ula. I'd rather her than any Meduka Renard gets hold of."

"Of course."

—————————————————————

"What's the matter?" Ula asked first thing, entering the room.

"I'm not well," Amarande murmured from her place on the bed.

"Well, that's clear," Ula studied her palor. Despite the situation, Amarande couldn't hold back her amused snort. "Anything in specific bothering you?"

As Amarande started listing off her symptoms, the dread in her gut grew. The nausea, the fatigue, the headaches, the tenderness. All of it led to the one thing she was terrified of becoming a reality. The one thing she was terrified to voice, lest she speak it into existence.

"Anything else?" Ula's voice had a certain edge to it. She exchanged glances with Osana. They were all thinking the same thing.

"I haven't had my moon cycle."

And just like that, all the air was sucked out of the room. No one moved. Amarande hugged her knees tight to her chest.

"How long?" Osana dared to ask.

"Enough."

Ula chewed her bottom lip. "Do you want me to do an exam?"

"I'd prefer not," Amarande admitted, "But I rather not finding out at the same time as him."

Ula was patient with her throughout the whole process. Amarande absolutely hated the feeling of hands all on her body, but it was necessary for the nature of the tests. Amarande could guess the outcome of it just by the look on her face.

Ula pursed her lips. "I'm sorry, Princess."

Amarande pulled herself to a sitting position, burying her face into the skirts of her gown. "I can't be pregnant," she whimpered. "Stars, I'll be sick."

Osana slid beside her, tying Amarande's hair into a low knot at the base of her neck, sweeping the sticky strands away from her skin. "Is that an expression, or are you being serious?"

"I've not decided yet." She wished that was a joke, but in her current state, it was a toss-up.

Oh, the tears were coming now. She couldn't hold them back if she tried. She had been holding everything together by a thread, and this was the last snip to her sanity.

"I need Luca," Amarande begged. "I need to tell him in person before Renard knows. I wouldn't forgive myself if he found out from Taillefer or the staff. Please, I need to see him."

Ula took Amarande by the shoulders, practically holding her up. "Listen, Amarande. We're," she tilted her head to Osana, "going to get you to him. I don't know how yet, but we will arrange something. I promise."

As soon as Ula released her, Amarande crumpled forward. "Thank you," she whispered. "Stars above, thank you!"

(Sophie Pov)

Sophie wasn't sure where she pulled that confidence from, but they both fell into a fit of giggles after she pecked his cheek. It wasn't necessarily embarrassment more than it was nervousness. Neither of them had been in a relationship before. It was completely new to them.

The fact they were both laughing about it made Sophie feel better. There was no doubt about it that she was awkward, bullies made sure she was very aware. But Keefe was awkward with her. She felt like herself around him. She didn't need to hide anything about herself.

Keefe's face was red with the widest smile on his face. He tried to hide in a pillow, and something about it was aggressively endearing.

He collected himself enough to pull away to speak, eyes still sparkling, "So now what happens?"

"Um, I guess I should tell my parents," Sophie pondered. She shook her head. "Sorry, I'm not very good at this."

"No, no," Keefe reached for her hands before they could wander to her eyelashes. "You're doing great. I'm new at this, too."

He ran his thumbs over her knuckles, gazing longingly at her. She encased his hands in hers, carefully tugging him closer. Keefe paused at how close they were, eyes flicking between their bodies.

He laughed, hand coming to rub the back of his neck, color flushing back into his cheeks. His shirt rode up with the movement, and Sophie couldn't help it when her eyes caught on his ribs. There was a nasty bluish blotch on his skin, wedged between his two bottom ribs.

Her brows furrowed. "Hey, what happened? How'd you get that bruise?"

Keefe's gaze zipped to hers, pupils little pricks. "What do you mean?"

"That bruise on your ribs. It looks painful."

He pursed his lips, not quite meeting her eyes. "I ran into a counter last night."

He began to pull away from her, but she tightened her grip, not letting him get away from the conversation that easily. "Are you okay? You would've had to fall pretty hard for it to be that dark."

He released her hands, scooting away from her. "I tripped, alright." His voice was short with her. "Just drop it."

"Okay..." Sophie frowned. He'd never been like this with her. At least not since they first met. They'd been having a moment, what happened? "I'm sorry."

His gaze softened, meeting her eyes. "I-Its fine. Just...nevermind." Keefe shook his head. "Do you want me to be there when you tell your parents?"

Sophie knew she shouldn't just let him change the subject like that. It was such a sudden flip from how he usually acted with her. She worried often about him. From his family to his past school, there were a lot of reasons she wanted to squeeze him until all of the hurt was gone and he could be truly free from all the pain in his life. She wanted to believe it was nothing, but she knew Keefe always had more unsaid.

Still, she responded, "My mom probably knows that we're talking about. I told her about the kiss." Her cheeks warmed at the mention of it. "If you're comfortable with it, we can tell her now. I can tell my dad later today when he gets home."