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They had tried to make the connection between the two occurrences. There was something bigger out there, but they had no clue what or where it was.

Azriel pored over the map, his gift of perception and intricacy failing him. The only connection was the forest, which was the connection between the two kingdoms. Although they had their mind on it, they did not want to conclude so easily. Enemies would not leave footprints so easily.

At the meeting, Zavian had been quiet. It had been days, and no one had been able to locate any of the missing people. But when the King looked at him, the question he had asked was unexpected.

“What if there is more than one door to the Underworld?” Zavian had asked out of nowhere.

Azriel scoffed at the impossibility. “Whatever this is, I don’t think it has anything to do with Aloysius.”

Zavian rubbed a hand on the stubble, shadowing his jaw in thought. “My mother has been going around covens and telling witches to pledge allegiance to my father. I would have marked her off as delusional to think he would ever be back, but to ask to join forces means there will be a war we have to prepare for.”

“And we are always prepared. We have knights across kingdoms that will be ready to fight once it is time.” Azriel said. “But I have a hunch this is the doing of some half-demon, half-witch being. Only they can conjure up this kind of spell.”

Again, Zavian stared at the map. “Neera fainted because she saw something or someone in a black cloak with eyes of fire. No one else saw it but her.” Azriel straightened at that.

.....

“I fear my conclusions might be correct, Azriel. Supposed this conclusion was true, that there was another way out of the Underworld. Although nothing in history indicated it or even the slightest possibility of it, it means the entire human race was in danger first. If humans were taken away in the same massive numbers, it would be to feed on them, and we both know what that means”

Azriel did not want to think about Zavian’s words. That was the worst-case scenario, and he didn’t want to be pessimistic, not when the lives of thousands depended on it.

His attention was diverted when there was an opening of his door.

Penelope, Azriel thought, and with a fierce protectiveness, he wouldn’t be able to bear something happening to his favorite human. Something must have given off in his expression, because Penelope stood there, her arms holding onto the pot of water.

“The other maids would be up soon”, she said. Was he angry? He looked tensed when he saw her.

Azriel rolled up the parchment of paper and fixed it back into the scroll. He motioned for Pen to continue with her chore, but she didn’t move. Instead, she took tentative steps toward him.

“Are you okay?” She asked. Azriel was surprised at the genuineness of her question. It was odd to be asked that as the General Commander, for as long as he knew it, he was a leader of an army. Being okay or not was no one’s business. No one cared if he was okay. He didn’t even know what it felt like. To be okay.

“Are you concerned about me, Pen?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

A smile brushed his lips. Judging from the worried look in her eyes, she was indeed concerned.

“I am fine, Pen,” he answered. “Nothing good food and a bath cannot fix. Unless…”, he quirked his head to the side, his eyes dragging up and down her frame. “… Unless you want to keep me company.”

There, the familiar skirt chaser she knew was back. His eyes held hers in a dare, and Penelope, glad he was himself again, shook her head and turned towards the bathroom. She emptied her bowl into the bath, and soon, other maids joined her to do the same.

Phoebe, the one maid in particular whom Penelope had grown to avoid because of her compulsive gossiping, kept giving her the side eye as she poured the hot water into the tub.

Penelope could not bear it any longer. “What?” she asked with a glare.

The maid looked away. “Nothing.”

Penelope saw it, the look she exchanged with the two other maids and the trio held in barely suppressed giggles. Feeling her face burn, Penelope exited the bathroom and almost bumped into Azriel on her way out.

“I’m sorry, my Lord,” she apologized.

“What’s with the hurry?”

Penelope looked over her shoulder at the maids, who had all comported themselves and set about their assigned duties with diligence, although the gossip monger was not so discreet in hiding her smile. Whatever it was, Penelope did not want to have any business in it. She had done her best to avoid being the topic of their conversations and wanted it to remain that way.

“Pen?”

“I am done here, my Lord, please excuse me.”

Penelope barely made it down the stairs when she heard the cackling echoing through its length. She hid behind a statue in an alcove, and she could hear their voices, and as they approached nearer, their words became audibly clear to her ears.

“I heard she and the General pretend to run off to the castle, but he takes her to this cabin in the woods to bed her,” one of the trio said.

“And in here, she pretends to avoid him,” the other maid chipped in.

“Have you ever seen a thief waving the wares he stole in broad daylight? Of course not,” Came the boisterous voice of Phoebe. They were getting closer to where she was now. “I just hate it when people pretend to be saints when in truth…”

“…they are just whores”, the other maid was eager to complete for her.