She staggered as she landed, her feet weak and her body trembling. The floor beneath her was cold, but it was comforting as she unsteadily stumbled over it, reaching for the first piece of furniture she found. That was an armchair, and she hung off the back of it for dear life, her breathing and pulse capricious.

Unsteadily she looked around her, glancing to see where he had sent her. Part of her hoped it was some wild garden where she could run and be free before he came after her, another part wanted it to just be a cold-barred cage, where she could curl up and starve herself. Instead it was a place that was familiar - the antechamber within the Hollow, with the fake fireplace and the door that led into his bedroom. Comfort and familiarity, but not as good as her bedroom in the mansion would have been. Carefully she sucked in her breath, trying to still the tears that were running in rivers down her face from eyes that had never cried since her liberation to the mansion.

How long had he realised? How long had he denied his feelings for her before he finally opened up to them, admitted to himself and likely sworn never to tell her? Perhaps he had tried to pretend it was not true. Perhaps, when Sable had first said those words he had growled and shaken his head and threatened her. Because that was his way. That was what he usually did. He was a sadist, a demon of a god whom she abhorred to think had those sort of feelings for her, but whom she could now, most definitely, never get away from.

Unless she left now. Now she could get a rest bite. Some minutes of running free before Brer found her and held her still again.
At least the giant was back from his adventures of leading the security at the Celestial Brewery.

She looked towards the door. It was not that far from where she currently stood, and it was emotions, not a lack of physical energy. Though in some ways they were one and the same. Stare had to find something within her, a might that was deep. She shook though, uncontrollably, as more tears wrecked her body, as life’s hardships became, in this moment, too hard to bare, as the knowledge that he had never told her … Ansaldo's balls beyond.

The wall would do first. Summoning what courage she could she stood tall, and then pushed herself away from it. Two staggered steps took her over to the wall, which she slumped against. Swallowing tightly she tried to end the tears before rolling onto her side and using the wall as a support to head over to the door.

Slowly, but surely, she made her way. Her claws scraped out and grasped at the handle. Using it as the newest crutch she leant on it heavily, tugging it open violently.

Behind it were three guards, blinking at her. One was Granit, the dwarf she knew vaguely who smiled awkwardly at her. He had a crossbow supported readily in his hands.

“Ah, Miss … Miss Stare …” he said with uncertainty. “You're …”

Stare could see the other guards shifting anxiously and twisting to face her. Eyes narrowing past the wet she stared at them one by one, clearly an issue in their minds.

“What is it?” she asked coldly.

“Sir - Sir Elssmith said if we were to see you that … that we should not let you leave that room. That if you were elsewhere to take you to it and to … keep you in there until he was back.”

So he had returned here, then gone to the theatre. Rather than look in her mind and make the connection again so quickly he had relied on instinct, been told where she truly was and ended up meeting here there. Clearly his plan had been to have her escorted her just in case she was wondering through some street somewhere.

“I could take you all,” she growled darkly. “Kill you even. Right here and right now.”

There were sharp breaths. She saw one of them grip the hilt of his sword tighter and another begin to lower himself into a ready fighting crouch. Granit, however, was the one to quickly speak.

“I have no doubt you could Miss, but this is Sir Elssmith. I do not want to but we have been permitted to say it is an order.”

Stare glared at them for a moment, her body trembling as she breathed in fury. She stood there, on the threshold of indecision as she faced a very temporary freedom against a direct command from her god. It took many things, including her own personal pain, to stop herself from wrecking agony on all of their bodies. An order. He had given them.permission to say it was an order. How dare he, in this circumstance. Even if he hadn't known it would come to this, she didn't care. How dare he, how fucking dare he!

She slammed the door in their faces, then twisted sharply around. Finding a renewed strength in her anger she slumped over to the closest sofa and threw herself down on it. For a while she lay face-down, tangled in amongst the cushions and thinking about how much she hated her life right now, and how much she hated him. She let out her stare upon the cushions, causing skin death the thing that wasn't living before the discomfort became too much.

Then she turned onto her side and faced the back of the sofa, lying there into the small hours, and the light of the candles all but ran out.