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Kerik pays this no regard. Perl has nothing to apologise for. But he has not the will to reassure him. He is too locked in his own thoughts, “I just keep thinking, if I had been there, at that pleasure night... I would likely have been. He would have gone there with me. Did you know he started drinking far too much after I vanished? That could have been because of me. I wasn’t with him. Instead I was hidden away because I am part of this prophecy and we’ve already failed.”

“We have not failed,” Perl says. Kerik knows Perl cannot lie, but he is unsure if this is not a carefully worded truth.

“Ur-Durik is already in Attar. He possesses Atticul. Emperor Atticul. You always know everything. Did you know it would go this way?”

“No,” Perl shakes his head, a small, elegant, typical movement. “I knew he planned to travel to Attar somehow. I did not know the means of it. It was my hope we would stop him in the forest before this happened. But I was delayed so long in Vylenor.”

“Because of me. So you think the failure is down to me.”

“Because of many things.”

“We are a handful of men. Ur-Durik already has the whole Azurian Empire. The army that has conquered half the world will be his to control when Atticul ascends. I have seen that army marching in displays in the great ceremonial squares in Attar. It is more powerful than you know. You think I can defeat it? Me and Damon and Tobi? I am the only strong young warrior amongst us. Damon, Lukas and Harok are all injured.”

“Harok is not injured.”

“He has a demon inside him.”

Perl makes a tutting sound. “We will stop him. It is prophesied."

“Stop him with what? I am meant to be the Magician. The great power behind the Five Fae Princes. This will not be enough, will it, to kill a demon. He flicks a little more magic from the tips of his fingers, melting a small hole in the ice covering the pond.

“I do not know. I hope.” Perl takes Kerik by the shoulder, looking into his eyes. “Kerik, these are not your true feelings. I know you. You are upset because you have learned of Endrew’s death. And you grieve him. But you are getting lost in your despair.”

Kerik looks at Perl. Perl leans down, places a cool hand on Kerik’s face and kisses him. Soft and sweet on his lips. The smooth cool feel of Perl’s mouth is familiar now and despite his blue mood, it ignites desire inside him. He reaches up, hands going into Perl’s hair and he draws him in, kisses him deeper and growls.

Perl shivers. The faerie does not feel the cold. His shiver is all desire. It is sweet to think this creature, this magical being, lusts for him. It reminds him who he is.

A moment later when they break apart, Perl breathless and sweetly pink-cheeked, Kerik sees Elric coming out of the Bride House doorway.

It had been Elric, at the breakfast table, who had said, “Oh, he’s dead.” When he reaches them Elric says, “Damon bid me come apologise to you for telling you so casually of your brother’s death. I knew you and he were close, I suppose. I forgot. My mind has been elsewhere.”

Kerik nods. His mind has been pickled in spicewine. And when he thinks that, cruelly, he thinks of Endrew, similarly lost, drowning his loneliness in drink and he wants to cry.

Perl says, “We are all preoccupied, Elric Underlia.”

“I suppose so, yes,” says Elric. He seems sober now, at least. For the past few days Kerik has seen him breaking his fast with liquor. Perhaps the news that they will, at last, be leaving for Attar, has helped him find sobriety.

Elric looks down at the frozen pond. He’s good at showing what he wants to show, but it’s growing less convincing as the days pass. Just paper, as thin and pale as Elric’s tender skin.

Kerik knew Elric once, or thought he did. He knew of Lord Harwin Underlia’s pretty son. And he had heard whispers of a male concubine in the Rose Court. He had never known they were the same person. Perhaps if, back then, he had known Elric's true identity, he would have had him sent to his chambers. A strange thought now.

“But I know you suffer greatly, Elric Underlia,” Perl says, “more than any of us.”

Elric sniffs dismissively. “If we had left as soon as you returned from the Blue Mountains we would be in Attar by now. I could be in his arms.”

Kerik wonders if it would entertain Elric to know he had heard once about the finest male concubine of the Rose Palace and been trying to find out who he was, but he thinks better of it, saying only, instead, “You will be.”

“If Atticul does not execute him. Perhaps he has done so already.”

“No, he won’t, he can’t,” Kerik shakes his head.

Perl adds, “I believe it likely he cannot die.”

Elric’s face goes tight. “I know you are lying about that. The Fae play tricks”.

“No,” Kerik shakes his head. “He can’t. He can’t lie.”

“Even if they do not kill him,” Elric says, not seeming to care much about whether Perl speaks the truth, “they know many cruelties in the Rose Court. He is in the lair of the demon.”