Did training really have to be so... realistic? [Y/n] gave Olli an unsure look as Hetti, under Olli's instructions, tied [Y/n]'s upper arms and wrists behind her to a post in the training hall, reverently bowing and apologising every time [Y/n] would let out a grunt of discomfort. The fae girl then bounced away, guilt sweeping across her countenance, and Olli dismissed her.

"And I'm supposed to free myself from this how?" [Y/n] deadpanned. Her bonds were tight as hell - did Hetti have experience in this sort of thing or something?

"How do you think?" Olli sighed, tilting his head, "it's just rope."

"It's pushing my internal organs to places they've never been before," [Y/n] objected, a pout on her lips. Olli couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at her complaints, shaking his head. "C'mon Olli, drop a hint, please~" the bound girl whined.

"Do you think a faerie would drop you a hint if it put you in this situation?" Olli huffed. [Y/n] rolled her eyes, struggling a little, though she was growing increasingly weak as her blood circulation got cut off from her arms. "Can't you just break them with strength?" he asked finally, seeming a little confused. He was expecting her to work out how to use a certain muscle to snap the bonds from her arms, but it didn't seem like she was going to get there any time soon. He was even more confused by how [Y/n]'s expression turned to one that could only be described as dumbfounded.

"Do what?!" she yelled out, her brows knitting together. "Sorry to break it to ya but not everyone has the strength of a 400 year old vampire king!" Olli bit his lip. She had a point. "Why are you looking at me like that?!" [Y/n] snapped, though she was clearly not as angry as she was making herself out to be. If anything, she was quite amused by the situation.

"Wait here," Olli then hummed, walking across the training hall and leaving [Y/n] tied to a post. She called after him, asking him where he was going and why the hell he was leaving her tied to a post, but she received no response. Eventually her shoulders sagged and she decided to wait for the silver haired man to return. She could just about see him opening the doors to the room filled with weapons, and he exited said room shortly after entering. He came back with a pair of boots and a vicious looking knife. Placing the boots on the floor, he carefully positioned the sharp object in a hidden fold under the sole of the boot, before taking off [Y/n]'s shoes and replacing them with the new ones. [Y/n] couldn't see what he was doing as he did it behind her, so all she knew was that he'd taken off her shoes and put on some different ones.

"Am I going to get an explanation as to why you changed my shoes or are you just gonna leave me to guess?" [Y/n] questioned, a confused grin on her face.

"There's a hidden blade in your right boot," Olli said, standing up after buckling the boots up. He stood up, staring down at the girl with a more serious expression this time. "You need to take off the boot and remove the knife, and then use that to cut the rope."

This seemed far more doable to the girl, but it didn't change the pivotal fact that her wrists were bound. She tried to lift her leg but she simply couldn't get her foot high enough for her bound hands to grab, and her back pressed against the pole didn't help her. Every time she nearly grabbed her foot, her wrist would give up and she'd drop it again. This went on for a long time before she came up with a new idea. She slid herself down the pole to a v-shaped sitting position, her knees in front of her and her feet behind her. She hadn't sat like this since she was a young child and good god it killed.

She could reach her foot now, however, and she fiddled with the buckles until the boot was loose. Then, with great effort, she managed to slide the boot off and hold it behind her. She used her left hand to hold the bottom of the boot whilst her right squashed down the leather and reached into the sole of the shoe, flipping it back to reveal the knife. She dropped the boot, now holding the knife in her hands.

She flipped the blade backwards and held the knife in both hands to make sure she couldn't drop it, slowly but steadily cutting into the rope that bound her wrists.

After a while of working at it, her wrists were cut loose. With this newfound liberty the girl could easily cut the ties binding her upper arms.

The rope fell down behind her and at last, she was free. She looked up at Olli with a triumphant grin and she stood up to face him, relishing in the look of pride on his face. Though, much to her surprise, he pushed her shoulder down so she sat before the pole once more.

"Put your shoes back on," he instructed, his serious tone returning, though the hint of a proud smile still lingered, "there are lots of different ways to tie a person up. You'll have to work through all of them."

* * *

Out of breath and red on her arms and legs from being tied up so many times, [Y/n] melodramatically 'collapsed' on the floor. Olli sat himself next to her and peered at her curiously. Was breaking out of ties that hard for a human? She looked like she'd struggled more when he decided to tie her himself instead of getting Hetti to do it — she had a few faults in her methods and it irked him, though he wanted her to do it so it would be less awkward for [Y/n]. Still, when he'd noticed she wasn't awkward about it at all, he'd taken it upon himself to dismiss the merely competent maid and take the girl's training into his own hands entirely.

"As much as you seem to be enjoying yourself," [Y/n] mumbled tiredly, "I think I've had enough of being tied up today," she laughed. Olli echoed the laugh and stared at her amusedly.

"Enjoying myself? You're the one who went red as a cherry when I dismissed your maid," Olli shrugged with a lighthearted smirk. [Y/n] 'slapped' his arm (it was more of a playful brush) and groaned into her arms.

"You were teasing me," she pouted, her voice muffled, "and I get flustered easily."

"You certainly do," Olli chuckled, standing up and extending a hand towards the girl, though she didn't see it as she was laying on her front and had her arms covering her face. He tapped her shoulder and she turned to look at him, before waving away his gesture to help her up.

"Nope. I'm sleeping here tonight," [Y/n] pouted.

"If you say so," he shrugged, walking away as he knew full well she wouldn't want to stay in the large hall once the lights were off. He clicked his fingers to a butler and pointed to the light switch, and the butler did as suggested, turning off the lights, though confused as to why Olli was staying in the room.

[Y/n] now shot upright when she noticed the lights were off. It was completely pitch black - she couldn't even see her hands in front of her face. The room was entirely silent so she assumed she was on her own. Letting out a huff, she tried to get herself to her feet. The dark was surprisingly dizzying. She took a few steps forward before stopping, not sure which direction she was heading. She then took another, tentatively, jumping when she felt something brush against her right arm.

She reached out her arm to touch whatever had been next to her, blinking in confusion when nothing was there.

But she could've sworn she saw Olli go to leave the room.

She took a few steps back, bumping into something once more. Then a hand grabbed one arm and the other covered her mouth. She was too scared to even try to scream.

"When you feel an unknown second presence with you, you're supposed to reach for your knife," the voice behind her spoke. [Y/n] huffed in relief, recognising the voice as Olli's. He clicked his fingers and the lights came on once more. Olli uncovered her mouth and let her go, so [Y/n] - rightfully - turned around to slap his arm. A proper slap this time, though he hardly felt it. He let out a laugh and shook his head.

"Not funny!" [Y/n] huffed. "And if I had my knife I could've stabbed you!"

"Nah, I would've been fine," he teased, jokingly tugging a strand of her hair. As he had the perfect hair to do so, she tugged a strand of his back. He raised a brow.

"Wow... your hair is soft..." [Y/n] realised, now just holding onto his hair without realising how close they were. Olli stared at her for a moment in confusion.

"You say that like you've never touched soft hair before," he joked. [Y/n] stared up at him.

"Not this soft! What shampoo and conditioner do you use? I want hair this soft," she pouted. Olli tilted his head, before a look of realisation came over his features.

"Ah, yes, you humans overproduce sebum," he hummed, "we only have to wash our hair with water as it doesn't get greasy. Our bodies are much better at regulation than yours, remember?" [Y/n] shot him a look of envy.

"That's fine, I'll just chop your hair off when you sleep and make a wig," she shrugged, her expression totally serious despite the obvious joke.

"Take my hair, I'll take your hands," Olli shrugged in response, taking her hand (in a non-vicious way) and leading her out of the hall. [Y/n] grinned.

"You'll take my hands? So if I chop off your hair I get to hold hands with the king?" she giggled, clearly being a word-demon. "But you're already holding my hand," [Y/n] added. Olli laughed, though [Y/n] didn't miss the small blush on his cheeks and the way he slightly awkwardly let go of her hand - it became apparent that he didn't even realise he'd been holding it.

"You know what I mean, you minx," Olli laughed.

The pair continued to have the same sort of lighthearted back and forth all the way to dining hall, where Calen had once again provided [Y/n] with a grand meal and a torrent of compliments — he seemed friendly so [Y/n] took to him quite quickly. As she ate and the conversation became more dotted, Olli once again sipped on a glass of Shiraz and thought about her situation. Frankly, he was more than relieved to know that she could open up to him. When he'd agreed to allow her to stay with him, he'd assumed she'd hate him right off the bat because of their less-than-ideal first meeting, as well as the fact that he was yet another vampire. Much to his surprise, [Y/n] had seemed quite open-minded, even giving him glimpses of her true self and not the emotionally exhausted and 'people pleaser' persona she'd been forced to adorn over the past couple of months.

He was glad. A small smile touched his lips, though to mask it he took another sip of his wine.

* * *

"So you agree to give me back my title?" Nyais and Mira glared at one another in Mira's office. The pair had always been on good terms, friends even, but their relationship went downhill when Nyais had lost his mind after Leya's death. The bond they had repaired slightly, and they'd even managed to meet up and talk again like they used to, but there was a clear sourness between them now that couldn't be missed.

"Yes, yes, I'm drafting the written agreement right now," Mira rolled her eyes, "stop yapping." She sat at her office table and had offered Nyais a seat opposite her when he'd entered, though he refused to sit down. He simply loomed over her like a raging storm. She wanted to punch him in the face.

He watched what she wrote, his eyes narrowed as he scanned through every word.

"Would you stop eyeing my hands like they're your next meal?!" Mira snapped up at him. Nyais shot his gaze up to her aggressively, though didn't speak, simply returning his regard to her hand when she continued to write again. The woman huffed, running her right hand through her short black hair as she continued to write with her left.

Silence, save for the dip-pen on parchment, scratching away the words Mira had no choice but to write.

"Hey," Mira finally muttered quietly, still writing. Nyais looked up at her again to signal that he was listening. "Are you alright?"

"Don't condescend me," Nyais hissed.

"Jeez! I'm just tryna help. Get off your high horse for once," Mira rebuked, her gaze venomous. "You're acting just like you did after Leya died! The heck is going on, Nyais? Just talk to me!" Mira had stopped writing now, slamming the dip-pen on the desk, uncaring to the little flicks of ink that sprayed across the polished oak.

"Shut up. Keep writing," Nyais growled out, his tone brusque and final. Mira opened her mouth to speak but hesitated. The look Nyais was giving her said that he didn't want to hear any more, but Mira simply couldn't leave it where it was.

"Is this about [Y/n]?" she asked. Nyais narrowed his eyes.

"Is what about [Y/n]?" he questioned, the words rolling off his tongue softly, yet there was a malicious undertone that made Mira's skin crawl. She drew in a breath.

"This. All of it. Your fucking mental state." Mira stood up now to be level with the man, not wanting him to look down on her any longer. "Can't you see it? You're mad. You finally fixed yourself and you've gone and lost it again. What's this shit about one of those troublesome kids challenging Olli, eh? Do you think we don't know that incy~wincy detail he put in the challenge? That you'll become king if he wins?!" Mira hissed. "You're plotting against the king - your friend - in broad daylight! Why? You've never expressed any interest in being king in your life!"

"Those are heavy accusations, Mira." Nyais watched her, unblinking, and unnaturally calm. Mira didn't back down, continuing to stare him down like he was some vulgar demonic creature that needed extermination. "I didn't think even you could stoop that low."

"Face it, Nyais," Mira snapped, ignoring his comment. "Whatever the hell the problem is, you're overreacting to it. And if you don't wanna get your ass handed to you on a plate, you should drop this bullshittery and get over yourself. Starting with leaving that human girl alone." Nyais' expression changed for a moment - it seemed to soften slightly at the mention of [Y/n] - but it reverted as though nothing had ever happened.

"Write," Nyais finally barked, staring down at the parchment once more.

random fun fact: I had to try to tie myself to a post to write that damn scene,, I feel ya [Y/n]—