Xylla had spent most of her life believing that she didn't need anyone, and that living alone was the best thing that could happen to her.

Now whenever Daemon and the others left her alone in those huge apartments she felt lost, with no company but the confusion in her head.

She had thought over and over the events of that day, but there was no way she could bring back any more memories; as if that weren't enough, every time she tried to concentrate she felt an unbearable itch on the back of her neck, so bad she wanted to tear out the feathers.

Once upon a time, it would have made her feel equally comfortable being accused of killing a man – and she had always wanted to kill as many as possible to make them pay for what they had done to her – but now all she could do was wonder what consequences the murder for which she had now accepted responsibility would bring.

Not because she suddenly found the company of humans pleasant or cared what the hypocrites who lived in that disgusting country thought of her, but because she feared losing the only thing that gave meaning to her life: being able to fight alongside Daemon.

What would she do if he didn't want to have anything to do with her anymore?

The thought was enough to make her tremble with fear like when she was a child, bringing back terrible memories of cages, chains and endless pain.

She didn't want to be helpless anymore. She didn't want to count for nothing anymore.

Her thoughts alone in that dark room were interrupted when she thought she heard noises outside.

At first she wanted to ignore them, but eventually curiosity got the better of her and she went to the nearest window. Four figures had just climbed over the low wall of the private gardens and were running towards the stairs to the pier by the light of a torch.

"Elizabeth!?" she said, recognizing what the biggest of those guys was carrying on his back like baggage

She was bound and gagged, but still awake, and when she raised her head their eyes met; her eyes said everything she needed to know.

They were probably not very different from the eyes with which Xylla had looked at everyone who had passed by her cage for a long time, before realizing that for those people she was nothing more than an object.

Nevertheless, she chose to ignore her, and she returned to her seat pretending that what was happing was none of her business.

But even if she tried to focus on something else, starting with her personal problems, her thoughts always returned to those eyes.

How must Elizabeth have felt to see the one she perhaps considered a friend turn her back on her?

She knew that terrible feeling of being abandoned by everyone.

But why on earth did it make her feel so bad?

She was practically a stranger, a little girl who didn't seem to realize how lucky life had been to her!

She was probably no different from all the other humans, who had always seen her only as a monster! What reason did she have to want anything to do with her?

She had to do something. Maybe it would make her feel better.

She approached the door and knocked loudly to attract the attention of the guards, trying to explain the situation with a growing anxiety that she couldn't control.

Needless to say, they didn't take her seriously at all, and actually ordered her, verbatim, to shut her beak up and go back to her nest.

And indeed Xylla tried to do just that, repeating furiously that she had done her part and had nothing to reproach herself for. But that excuse no longer worked, and the appearance of detachment was giving way to an increasingly uncontrollable worry.

Suddenly her head felt like it was on fire, and an old voice accompanied by blurry images of a figure in front of a window echoed in her head like a divine warning.

"I entrust her to you. Protect her, please."

Everything suddenly seemed clearer.

Elizabeth had been good to her. They had so much in common. How could she just wash her hands of it? How would she be different from her tormentors if she acted the way they did?

But then Daemon's voice also echoed in her mind, with his stern warning not to leave the room under any circumstances.

She was torn; on the one hand she didn't want to disobey the person who had saved her, but on the other she didn't feel like turning her back on... on a friend.

"Forgive me, Master Daemon."

Once the window was open she nimbly descended into the courtyard, trying to cut through the darkness only partially illuminated by the light of the moons and stars with her weak harpy vision.

"Lady Elizabeth! Answer me! Where are you?"

But there was no sign of her, and when she reached the edge of the cliff and saw a faint light in the middle of the sea ahead of her, she knew she was too late.

They were too far away. And the wind was against her.

There was no way she could hope to get that far just by gliding.

And she couldn't even ask Danton for help, since he was locked up and chained in an amphitheater far away from there since the day she was arrested.

But she couldn't give up. She had to do something. She had promised.

Unfortunately, the palace guards chose the worst moment to realize that something was wrong, and after seeing her, they ran towards her with their weapons drawn, ordering her to stop.

Arguing with them was useless.

There was only one thing left to do.

She would probably die, also because it was well known that harpies could not swim, but at least she would go to the other world knowing that she had done everything possible.

She closed her eyes and jumped.

The cold air cut her face, and with the wind so strong she would probably have died crushed against the cliff rather than falling into the sea or onto the rocks.

"Please... Please!"

The moment she spread her wings, a providential current of air pushed her forcefully upwards.

And when she opened her eyes, the sea was still beneath her.

Far away. Harmless.

She had done it. She had remembered how to do it. Her ruffled, dry feathers shone with the color of the sun again, as if her courage had brought them back to life.

"I'm coming, Elizabeth!"



"I apologize for the rudeness of my men, Your Highness," Ignes said, mimicking the cadence typical of Connelly's nobles.

"What do you want from me?"

"Suffice it to say that someone paid us to ensure that you cannot inherit the throne. However, fear not, we have orders not to twist a hair.

We'll just hand you over to someone who'll take you far away from here, aren't you happy? After all, I had the feeling you didn't like that life at all."

"Hey, boss."

"What's up?"

"I think I saw something. Over there, in the dark."

"Idiot. We were in and out in less than five minutes. And we're at least two miles from shore. There's no way a boat could have gotten to us that fast."

"I wasn't talking about a boat, boss. It's something up there in the sky. Look, there it is."

"What!?"

Just a few seconds passed, and swooping down on the ship with the agility and speed of a falcon, a shadow grabbed Elizabeth by the arms and took flight again.

"Don't worry! I got you!"

"Xylla... you fly!?"

The pirates were so confused that by the time they started shooting arrows and spears, Xylla had already gotten quite far away, despite the considerable weight she was forced to carry.

But she hadn't counted on Ignes.

The girl huffed in annoyance, then snatched a spear from one of her men.

"It's bird season!"

Perhaps she aimed deliberately to the right, or perhaps the distance made her miss; the fact remains that it was almost inconceivable for a normal human being, and one who was apparently so frail, to throw a weapon so far and with such power.

Xylla was grazed, but just enough to knock her off balance and send them both tumbling into the sea.

Thankfully, in deference to her status, the pirates had not tightened Elizabeth's ropes too tightly, and she managed to free herself and grab Xylla before they both sank.

"Don't worry, Xylla, I got you!"

"Come on," Ignes said. "Get her and let's get out of here."

"What about the other one?"

It was Elizabeth who decided, "Hey, you! You want me alive, right? Then you have to save her too! Do it, otherwise I'll let myself drown!"

"What are we going to do, boss?"

In fact Ignes had already made her decision; who would be crazy enough to let a harpy who still knew how to fly die?

There was a five-figure sum ready for them.

So they were both brought back on board, and before they could try any more low-level moves, they were promptly tied up.

"If you try any more pranks, your friend will feed the fish, do you understand?"

Then the ship set sail and headed northwest.

"It's going to be a short trip, so take this opportunity to say a proper goodbye."



The Count of Marton had always loved parties; above all, he knew their political importance.

But this was really the first time he was not enjoying himself, and he had the expression of someone who was attending his own funeral rather than a party.

It was like a deadly game of tag, where you had to chase this or that nobleman to see if he could be counted on when it came time to vote.

But the worst thing was that the great architect of the whole affair seemed to be the personification of calm, and he continued to enjoy the evening completely oblivious to the hostile looks, the whispers and the suspicious glances.

It seemed as if some of the more ardent guests were just waiting for a good excuse to go up to him and slap him with their glove.

Moreover, he was quite popular with the ladies and young women, and never refused a dance to anyone who asked.

However, for some hours he seemed strangely more cautious, often casting inquisitive glances at the doors and windows that looked out onto the courtyard of the palace.

Thus he noticed, before others, the galloping arrival of a messenger who almost ran over the guards at the doors in his haste to enter.

"Right on time," he said, smiling, and, slipping away from the last of the many noblewomen queuing to meet him, he took the Count aside. "I need to speak to you in private."

"I'm trying to repair the damage you've caused. Is that really necessary?"

"Trust me, it is."

"Okay, let's go to my office."

"No, I think we'd better choose another location."

Daemon and the Count then moved on to the state archives, the last place a member of the nobility would want to visit, filled with dust, cobwebs, and rat-chewed parchment.

"So? May I know why you wanted us to come here?"

"Nothing special, but I thought it would be best for you to get out of that room before things got heated."

"Funny. How do you think it could get any worse?"

"You have the Eye of Gaia with you, right? Why don't you try to connect it to mine?"

Marton obeyed; and once activated, the device projected an image of the ballroom from a very uncomfortable angle, probably the inside of a flower box.

To say that pandemonium was in progress would have been an understatement; everyone was running, screaming, waving their arms, but the worst thing was that there was talk of something bad that had happened to Her Majesty.

"What in heaven's name have you done this time?"

"Me? Absolutely nothing. You, if anything."

"What are you talking about?"

"That you've reportedly just staged a coup attempt."

The Count wasn't even forty yet, but it was a miracle he didn't have a heart attack.

"WHAT!?"



The Ardeer Inlet was only a handful of miles from the palace, and within hours the pirate ship was almost within sight of the promontory that stood at the entrance to the narrow passage of water that ran deep into Connelly's territory.

Xylla and Elizabeth had been silent the entire journey, barely able to find the courage to even look each other in the eyes.

"Thank you..."

"What?"

"Thank you... for helping me. I heard what you said to those pirates. If it weren't for you..."

Elizabeth smiled. "Of course. You're my friend. And I still can't believe it, Xylla. You flew. You actually flew."

"Yeah. For the first last time. Too bad it didn't help."

"Still, I appreciate what you did. I never thought someone could do so much for me."

"What are you saying? I'm sure there are many people who care about you. Like Miss Taka, or the Count."

"Taka is just my bodyguard. As for the Count of Marton, I'm just a tool for him."

"When you lived outside the palace, didn't you have any friends?"

"When I was little, yes. But then I grew up, and no one could ignore my appearance anymore. They looked at me as if I were an exotic beast, or even were afraid of me."

A feeling Xylla knew well.

"You know what? Maybe I should just stand up, jump into the sea, and be done with it. It would be the first time ever that I could say that I was truly in control of my life."

"You can't be serious!"

"Why not? Since I was born, someone else has always decided my life. First, I was just the orphan Elizabeth, then the Princess of Connelly. And now, who knows what I will become. Why should I let others handle me like I was their toy?"

If she hadn't been tied up, Xylla would have wanted to slap her: "Idiot!"

"Xylla..."

"So committing suicide is the only way you can be in control of your life?"

"What else could I do? I've never had a say in anything. It's always been like this! From the moment we come into the world, always someone makes decisions for us! They tell you, "Trust me, it's for your own good"! I'm tired of seeing my life controlled by others!"

"Then fight! You can do it! You are not like me or most of us! You have the strength and authority to change things! Just like Master Daemon!"

"What authority? The one put into my hands by people who could abandon me at the first opportunity? I am a Princess in name only."

"Master Daemon always says that virtues, not titles, determine a person's worth. None of us can decide how we are born or by whom, but we can strive with all our might to achieve the best we can aspire to. And I have seen it, Elizabeth. You were born for this. You who as Master Daemon have seen firsthand the suffering and hardship of the common people. If you could use the opportunities that life has given you to create a better world, wouldn't that be the same thing? Wouldn't you still be the master of your life?"

Elizabeth couldn't hold back her tears either. "How can you do that? You're a monster, and you were probably a slave. How can you still have faith in the future?"

"Because I was like you. Rebellious, intolerant. I thought that others gave me orders only because they wanted to stifle my desire to be free. Then one day I acted on my own, and because of it everyone I knew died. From that moment and for many years, my life was truly no longer in my hands. Until Master Daemon helped me. By his side I met wonderful people, who gave a new meaning to my life. Now I obey orders, but I do it because I decided to. That's why I fight with all my heart now. Because I don't want others to have to suffer what I suffered. And I can't stand to see someone who would have the power to end all this doing nothing, especially someone like you."

The Princess smiled and bowed her head: "If only I had known you before..."

Meanwhile the ship had now come within sight of a small pier in the heart of the inlet, where a man was awaiting its arrival holding a lantern.

What neither the pirates nor the man knew, however, was that there was someone else besides them witnessing the meeting.