In Katarina's mind – and in her dreams – she always pictured Keith as the little boy he had once been – that fragile boy with haunting lavender eyes, his lips parting into a hopeful smile as his hands gently cupped her face.

His childhood innocence had, of course, only been a façade he had put on for a while. But false though that façade turned out to be, sometimes Katarina found herself missing it regardly – the comfort of it, the certainty, the warmth he had given her with ease.

And so, she felt almost a strange sense of vertigo as she stared at the man who had somehow been born from the boy before – as that man looked little like the boy except for the sparest of details.

His eye-color was much the same, she decided, even as he stilled upon his first sight of her, one knee encroaching the bed even as the rest of his muscles locked. His irises had darkened, going from a soft lavender into a richer violet, and the beautiful shape of his eyes were still remarkably distinctive. The lashes surrounding his eyes were as outrageously long as before – and the loose hair that framed his handsome face was the same shade of sandy brown, though he had cut it short enough that it no longer kissed his shoulders.

But the rest of him had… developed. And as Katarina's eyes roamed over him with a curiosity that she hadn't expected of herself, she noticed how well he had filled out with lean, powerful muscles built from years of playing at war.

And then her gaze wandered further down, even as her marred brow rose.

So that explained why all the whores in this brothel had been so ready to give him discounts.

She had wondered.

But even as she grew more… distracted than she wanted to admit at the sight of Keith, the man himself remained oddly calm. Indeed, after his first few moments of frozen surprise, he recovered so quickly that it was as though he expected to find Katarina in his bed every night. Instead of shrieking or falling over in shock, he simply gathered a handful of silk sheets and covered his impressive Claes minor, even as his eyes burned holes into hers.

And then, with a world-weary chuckle, as though they had unexpectedly run into each other during an errand, Keith said: "My dear sister. Here you are in the very last place I would have ever expected – namely, my bed. And if you have already sent my sweet bedwarmer away, you had better offer up something substantial indeed."

Granted, his control over his temper was still imperfect. Even as he spoke, his voice a lazy drawl, Katarina could see the tension in the powerful muscles of his arms, as he gripped the silk sheets over him. He seemed as though he were doing all he could to keep himself from reaching out to strangle her – which, in all fairness, was an impulse that Katarina could understand, if not condone.

"I most certainly will," Katarina said replied, keeping her own voice level even as she found herself frustrated by Keith's calm. She had hoped to run roughshod over him during her impromptu ambush, such that she could easily work her dark magic wiles on his flustered self if he didn't give in to mere words. However, only a few minutes into the interaction, and she could already feel herself losing control of the situation. Which was not… ideal.

But Katarina would not be herself if she did not push forward in a mess of her own making – and so, she kept on talking, hoping to have the situation work out almost in spite of herself.

"How about the chance to obtain a prize you have long desired, dear brother? Because I promise you, if you just listen to me, you'll gain the sterling chance to forever avoid my company."

It was, to Katarina's mind, a very fair offer. Given their estrangement over the last few years, she imagined that he greeted her presence with same joy he'd use to treat with a leper. But after another long pause in which Keith closed his eyes and seemed to pray for strength, she found herself surprised by his next words.

"When have we even been close enough to be disgusted by each other in the last few years?" he said, sounding bitterly amused. "We barely even interact as is, so I do not know why I would need to have you move even further from me. In fact, this is the longest conversation the two of us have had since near the age of eight."

As though that were her fault.

Stung, Katarina replied, "What can I say? Times change, relationships fade, and even brothers and sisters sometimes drift away."

"Yes," Keith said, an odd kind of bitterness stealing over his voice, "We have more than enough evidence for that, don't we?" And before Katarina could respond, he added: "So tell me, my dear lady, why on earth you decided that the best way to start our first conversation in near a decade was at a whore's bed within a bloody brothel?"

…When he put it that way, it did start to sound a little unreasonable.

Granted, the real reason was because she wanted to fluster him so badly with her unexpected presence that he would either agree with her dangerous proposition without fully thinking of her reasons… or be rendered more susceptible to her budding mesmerism.

However, she didn't think her dear brother would appreciate either explanation.

Instead, giving a little wave of her hand, Katarina said: "Because I needed to know you would not run from me, no matter what words we exchange. As I said before, I am here to offer you a deal… and I won't leave until you agree to what I'm asking."

Instead of being stricken with fear, though, Keith actually smiled at her – the same half-amused and half-disbelieving smile that he had often used on her during their childhood – the one that said: I think you've gone insane but I will still trail after you you. "My dear sister, did you think I would let you go so easily now that we finally have a moment alone?"

…My God, Katarina thought, maybe he had been waiting all this time to go at my throat. In which case, she certainly had erred in approaching him in so seedy an establishment, hadn't she?

Uneasy and trying to hide it, Katarina attempted to bluff. "What you want doesn't particularly matter in this case, dear Keith. I have already had the madame of this fine establishment bar these doors so you cannot escape. For the next half-hour…"

And here, she let a triumphant smile cross her lips, even as she sat up a bit from the bed herself, the opening of her silk dressing-gown gaping a little.

"No matter how hard you try to escape, you are going to be mine."

A sudden flush fell over Keith's face – no doubt indignation about her demand. Well, he could be as indignant as he liked – she was determined to be in charge of him tonight, no matter what feelings he might have otherwise.

But surprising her yet again, Keith managed another – albeit slightly strained – smile. "So you believe you've trapped me in this room with you? Even though in reality…"

And he was fast, damn him – much faster than she expected – his body moving so swiftly to her on the canopy bed that she startled badly. Her head might have even knocked against the hard back of the bed-frame, were his hand not swift enough to take the blow for her instead.

He didn't even wince, even though Katarina knew that his hand must hurt all the same.

Instead, he fixed his dark violet eyes on her, his gaze very hard to read.

"Don't you know," Keith said softly, "that you are now trapped in here with me?"

Clearly he was trying to intimidate her – to warn her off and tell her he would not go along with his schemes.

But Katarina hadn't clawed her way out of her goddamn grave to be turned away by a brother who refused to give her support. And even if Keith left her dead body in a brothel, there were plenty of questions he would have to answer afterwards.

(There was a reason Katarina had left a very special letter in Anne's care, with instructions to send it to her father if she didn't return to her academy suite by the next evening. She wasn't fool enough to embark on a dangerous scheme without some insurance, after all).

"Enough with your nonsense," Katarina snapped, trying to pretend the sudden closeness between their mutually flushed faces didn't fluster her in the least. "Are you going to hear me out? Or am I going to have to gag and bind you to make you listen to my request?"

And then Keith lightly cupped the back of her head with the hand he had just used to protect her.

This close, she could see the individual lashes of his eyes, smell the whisky on his breath.

"Oh," Keith said, his mouth curving around those words, "is that what excites you, my lady?"

She flashed back her own dangerous smile. "No woman spends a decade with a sadistic, black-hearted prince without learning a few tricks. And you'd be amazed at how good I am at tying knots, dear Keith."

Suddenly, Keith bound away from her as though shocked by her lack of virtue, scrambling back to the foot of the bed. "You mean to tell me you both— you two — you actually—"

And although Katarina wondered when this conversation suddenly started revolving around her sexual history, she was damn well not going to let this degenerate act as though she'd somehow stained the Claes family name by losing her virginity.

"I could and I did," she snapped, cold anger welling at the thought of her brother judging her for being intimate with her fiancé even as he tarried in brothels every week. "What did you think Jeord and I spent our time on all these years? Play kissing games the way you and I did when we –"

She abruptly stopped, the memory burning her.

Keith's innocent kisses, their embraces in the dark, the daisy rings he had once put on her fingers...

The very first love she had had that had betrayed her – although so many other betrayals would come tumbling right afterwards.

"Don't you dare judge me," Katarina snapped again, pushing away the memories of his boyish mouth against her cheek. "I loved Jeord, at the very least. I'm not planning to leave him simply because that ceased."

Keith feel silent at that revelation, somehow seeming more confused by those words than her ambushing him in a brothel. She could see the muscles of his arm flexing as his fingers continued twisting the sheet still covering his lower half, even as his face remained still.

Flushed and agitated despite herself, Katarina went on. "And— and if you've been harboring some vein of prudishness, you certainly show it in the strangest of ways. Unless you think that lords should be allowed to go out carousing whenever they please, while the ladies breed at home quietly. You've certainly deflowered enough noble daughters to show the fallacy in that approach!"

Keith finally answered at that, even as his mouth twisted in an emotion she couldn't quite make out. "It is… different where you are concerned. You… must hold yourself to higher standards than my degraded and licentious self. After all, aren't you meant to become a princess in another year or two? I am – surprised you are no longer thrilled to soon join hands with your beloved Prince Jeord."

"I'll bet," Katarina snapped again, knowing she wasn't actually furious with Keith but feeling so sharp a swell of pain that she simply could not help it. "And I suppose you would be justified at laughing at me given all the stupid boasting about marriage I've done over the past few years."

Because of course Keith would be laughing at her in this situation, wouldn't he? Stupid proud vapid little Katarina – always going on about her perfect prince, giving up her damned inheritance to marry him, throwing away half her life on a love that had withered into nothing.

She sometimes laughed at herself for being in this situation.

What a fool she had long been.

"But whatever I said in the past," Katarina finally said, her own fingers twisting into knots into silk, "I direly regret it. Over the years, I found that Prince Charming had somehow turned into Prince Alarming – and I want to get as far away as I can from him."

Keith must be laughing at her now, most likely.

She would have done the same, were she him.

But when she finally had the courage to look at her brother again, she saw an emotion that shocked her to the core.

She saw honest rage in him.

And it was rage that seemed aimed – for her, not at her.

And she – she just could not understand.

"Are you leaving him because he hurt you?" Keith said, with a tone that promised to raise an army of stone golems and leave little behind in the aftermath. "Because my God, Katarina, if he did – if he touched you, if he forced you, if he did anything to you that you didn't want him to—"

He gentled a little as he saw the fear sweeping across her own face.

He had always been so good at reading her.

Softly, he whispered: "You can tell me if he did anything to you, Katarina. I swear, I won't judge you in the least. And he…"

Keith took a breath that seemed calculated to calm himself, though it did not much seem to help.

"I promise that afterwards, he will be in no condition to ever harm young women again."

The intensity in his voice made Katarina's eyes widen in shock, even as she shook her head reflexively.

It was – strange, to realize how – not concerned for her, how absurd, he'd bloody well tried to murder her – but how concerned Keith suddenly felt for their family's honor, considering he debased it on a constant basis.

And yet, perhaps there was a strange new warmth that spread over Katarina as she thought of the heat in his voice as he rose to… to defend her, if only for the sake of their family name.

It was almost pleasant, for a moment, to lean into the feeling that she might have someone to shield her from the coming storm. Even if it was just a short-lived illusion – it was a seductive one.

Eyes lowered, touched despite herself, Katarina finally settled on telling her brother a version of the truth. And she was grateful when he rose to get dressed at her subtle nod to do so, as she didn't want to look at him as she spoke.

"Jeord has never hurt me physically," Katarina said, which was technically true so far – and in any case, the last thing she wanted was her bastard brother trying to salvage her nonexistent honor. "And he has never touched me in any way I didn't consent to. Whatever sins we have committed so far, we chose to commit them together. Only…"

Laughing at the past being far more prescient than she ever wanted it to, Katarina went on.

"You were right even as a child, Keith. He didn't turn out to be as perfect as I had hoped for."

And if that wasn't an understatement, nothing else could be either.

She could hear Keith dressing in the background, his cloth rustling and his buttons clinking, he moving as slowly and steadily as ever to a quiet cacophony of sounds.

Finally, once he had finished pulling himself together, Keith quietly said, "So… out of everyone possible, you turned to me for support?"

She had told herself ahead of time that she wouldn't beg – but Katarina couldn't keep the subtle plea out of her voice nonetheless. "Yes," she said, trying to sound strong but not quite managing it. "Yes, I did. And I hope you will seriously listen to my proposal."

Because if he didn't, she'd have to try and break into his mind – and that certainly would ruin the tentative rapport they appeared to be building now.

To bolster her argument, she added: "I already spoke about this plan with father and… I think that however much of a fuss we make in the short run, he will support us if you agree to my proposition. After all, it is the only rational course for House Claes. And it would help us both get what we want!"

There was another long and contemplative silence from Keith, as he stood across the room from her, fiddling with his sleeve. Finally, very softly, he said: "So… you want me to… to duel Jeord not only for your honor but also for…"

Impatiently waving off his misconceptions – for why on earth did she need him to duel her fiancé for her? – Katarina went on. "No, of course not! Good lord, that would never work. No, brother, I need you to help me invest my money so that I have enough of a nest-egg to flee the country without implicating House Claes with my departure."

There was another, somewhat ominous, pause from Keith's corner.

Katarina's stomach did its level best to tie itself into a series of unbreakable knots.

"Oh," Keith said at last, voice even and serene. "I see."

Releasing a breath that she hadn't even realized she was holding, Katarina found herself smiling at his assent. Thank God Keith was clever enough to realize the cleverness of her plan! Feeling near-giddy with the relief of knowing he would likely agree, she went on detailing her plan.

"My plan is very simple, truly, and requires very little of you. I need to have enough gold to leave the country by the end of the year, before Prince Jeord can – can force me to marry. I have a healthy amount of gold available from my own personal funds, as well my maternal inheritance, and I intend to invest that in several businesses in order to form a good nest-egg. Yet I cannot invest it by myself, as some sycophant will inevitably let Jeord know about my burgeoning wealth – and he may decide to confiscate it for himself. So I would like to give you the money, have you invest it in my behalf, and return the profit to me by the end of the year. You need not do anything beyond following my directions and being discrete."

Keith said nothing, simply kept fiddling with his watch as though he could not get it to set the right way on his wrist. Unheeding of whatever personal crisis he might be going through – who knows, maybe he really did miss that whore she had replaced so rudely – Katarina went on, painting as bright a picture of the future as she could.

"Truly, this would be the best imaginable ending for the both of us. I get to escape a… a marriage I do not want, while you will cease being hindered by my very presence. After all, once I have left the country a fugitive, father will have to disown me in order to keep our duchy in our house's hands. House Claes will belong irrevocably to you and your future children!"

One minute went by, and then another, and then a third – and still Keith gave no answer to that.

Odd – Katarina was sure he would have been glad.

Indeed, even as she warily poked her head out of the bed's canopy to stare at her now-clothed brother's back, she could see no particular joy in his slightly hunched body, no triumph in the taut hands he used to grip the dresser before him.

And when he finally spoke, his voice seemed remarkably devoid of triumph either.

"You really shouldn't make assumptions about situations you know very little of," Keith said finally. "But then, if you didn't leap to wild conclusions based on remarkably little evidence, you would not be Lady Katarina Claes."

And here she had thought they were having a civil conversation. Why he suddenly took offense at her perfectly logical statements was beyond her – though she, of course, would not simply absorb his harsh words.

"Hold your tongue, my lord," Katarina snapped back. "I did not come here to endure your insults."

"No," Keith growled back, whirling around to face her. "You came here to inveigle me into your absolutely insane and dangerous scheme. What do you suppose that beloved prince of yours would do if he knew I was helping you run from his loving arms? Give me a pat on the shoulder and then happily let you run free?"

The sneer Katarina sent at him had to be one of her best yet. "Believe me, I certainly don't consider him my beloved anymore. And truly, I doubt Jeord would care. We have not been… happy together for a long time and he's already found a replacement bride to stand by his side. He would no doubt be very happy to see me go into self-exile."

"Oh yes, I'm sure he would," Keith returned. "Given your peerless ability to understand the hearts of men, you must know exactly how he would react if you unexpectedly left him."

Well, even if she didn't like his spiteful tone, at least Keith was finally talking some sense.

"Of course!" Katarina said, her voice rising in her own defense. "Yes, I know exactly how he would react if I unexpectedly left! He would be irritated and curious as to where I went, and scour the entire continent for me to shake some answers about why I shocked him yet again – unless he had some bright new mystery to occupy him. And I have already arranged for that contingency, thank you kindly. I can promise you that once I thrust someone new into his arms, he'll forget me entirely!"

Something that approached pain seemed to settle on Keith's face.

"Do you think it so easy for a man to replace you, Katarina?"

Confused and irritated by the self-evident question, Katarina nodded. "Obviously. Since when have I ever been irreplaceable to anybody, save my mother? And all you need to do to distract a man from one lost lover is to place a prettier new woman in his path!"

And if Keith broke out into an almost hysterical jag of laughter at her words, Katarina decided she hardly had the time to indulge in his odd sense of humor. They had a bargain to accept.

"In any case," she said again, trying to move on to the heart of the matter, "once you execute my plan, you need only to give me the fruit of my investments and I promise to leave you be. Indeed, after the end of the year, you will no longer be bedeviled by even a trace of me – even in your memories or dreams."

At least he stopped laughing at that – even though the queer look he fixed again on her face was unnerving.

"Oh," Keith said, his mouth twisting again into an odd smile. "Is that something you can truly promise me?"

Starting to feel rather concerned about what sort of drinks or drugs Keith might have indulged in before he came into this room, Katarina nodded. "Of course. Why would I otherwise linger in your mind?"

"Of course," Keith echoed, his voice calming again. "Why indeed would you do such a thing?"

They stared at each other for another long moment, him gazing at her while she wondered whether she would need to force him to accept. But before Katarina could execute some dark magic maneuver that might be a tad unwise, she was interrupted by Keith's sardonic laugh.

"Fine then, dearest sister," he said. "Let us have this your way. I shall do as you ask as soon as you send me your requests through mail. But I must ask beforehand…"

And his own brow rose at her as he leaned back, looking handsome and lordly and in control once more.

"What on earth will you do once you leave the kingdom with your hard-earned fortune?"

…Oh, he could not really believe she would be so stupid as to give him a means to track her, did he?

But just in case…

Plastering on an earnest look on her face, Katarina smiled at her now-dressed sibling. "I am planning on being a pirate and sailing the many seas. I never was very good at manipulating the earth but who knows? Maybe I'll end up manifesting a sudden skill in swash-buckling!"

For a moment, she was sure that Keith would realize the jest in her words and chuckle – but given the shock setting over his face, she soon realized he was taking her words far too seriously.

(He had always been anxious as a little boy, wailing and weeping over her every bruise or cut as though she were about to expire without his incessant hovering. She could still remember how he used to insist on bandaging her up, going so far as to carry a first-aid kit on some of their bigger misadventures).

(What a long game the younger version of him had played).

Determined not to be pulled into Keith's false concern once again, Katarina aimed a jaunty smile at him. "Don't be so concerned, brother. If becoming a pirate doesn't work, I could always become a burglar. Perhaps I'll end up developing knack for breaking into vaults and robbing people of their prizes every which way. I'll wear boiled leather armor and carry a whip and fade from the eyes of others as soon as dawn breaks."

Sadly, Keith didn't look amused by her speculations. "Don't be ridiculous," he muttered, looking some strange cross between concerned and furious. "I know you're athletic enough but you can't possibly be serious about indulging in criminal activity. You're only going to end up getting your fool self killed or locked up in some awful dungeon!"

And now, Katarina felt a wave of… of irritation she hadn't anticipated. "I didn't know you cared so deeply about my health, dear brother! This concern certainly was missing in the past!"

But even as those words spilled past her lips – Katarina regretted them. For they caused Keith to still as though she had indeed stabbed her with one of her shadow blades, rendering him somehow more vulnerable than when he had kneeled naked before her.

Katarina could feel something that seemed suspiciously like guilt burn inside her.

Perhaps, a little voice inside her said, you shouldn't have insulted someone who is trying to keep you from getting killed.

Even so, she couldn't bring herself to apologize – not when he truly had tried to kill her before.

Perhaps if he had tried to apologize to her before months had gone by – perhaps she would have thought he felt some actual remorse for hurting her –

But he hadn't, and she didn't, and now here they were – trying to find some way to sever their relationship forever.

…She didn't know why she felt so sad, all of a sudden.

Finally, Keith bowed his head and quietly said: "You will need to know how to defend yourself if you want any hope of surviving while on the run, let alone as a pirate or a criminal. And… I couldn't bear the stain on our family's honor if you simply headed off and died in some vile manner. So if you want my cooperation with your little business venture, I'll give it – but only so long as you take self-defense lessons from me on a regular basis."

Then Keith's mouth twitched in amusement as he added: "You shall even be able to wail upon me once more with all sorts of weapons. That must be enough to bring a shining light into your dreary life once more."

Even as surprise filled her at his willingness to overlook their… harsh words, Katarina automatically quipped: "No doubt it will. And I'm sure you'll deserve every beating I'll give you as well."

And even as she puzzled through Keith's motivations – truly, what desire compelled him to try to keep her safe once she left his sight? – Katarina found herself experiencing a strange swell of gratitude that rose to replace the anger and pain she had felt before.

After all, however strange his motives might be, taking self-defense lessons from Keith was an excellent idea. He was an excellent swordsman with hand-to-hand combat experience, and Katarina could only stand to benefit from learning more ways to defend herself. After all, though she had her dark magic, she might easily encounter situations where she could not rely on it alone.

Rising from the bed with feline grace, she came to stand next to her brother, who turned his own head to gaze steadily back at her.

And when she smiled this time – a genuine smile, one that held little resemblance to the courtly mask she wore so often around others – he looked surprised to be find himself smiling back at her.

"I… I would like that, Keith. Thank you for your kind offer."

And then, feeling oddly shy, she added: "Also, please don't tell me you took the pirate talk seriously. You know that I hate going on the water! Remember that time when we went sailing and I ended up vomiting all over you after indulging on too many sweets? I swear, I can still hear you wailing as Anne tried to pick all those chunks off your little sailor's suit."

…Which made him the second of two would-be suitors she had vomited over and who had tried to kill her. Good lord, she needed to make sure she never retched around the men again, as it seemed to spur them onto some burning desire to destroy her.

Keith's snort interrupted her thoughts. "That's a memory that ever haunts my dreams. But of course, you insisted on eating everything Anne brought no matter how many times I tried to pull you away. Thanks to you, I can no longer be around macarons without dry heaving."

"...Don't you ever say such cruel things about macarons," Katarina said, more offended than when he had implied that she was a hussy for consorting with her future husband. "I know you are a big strapping man right now, but if necessary, I can still knock you down with ease."

(And the funny thing is, she probably could. His earth magic wasn't immediately useful in an enclosed area, after all. Whereas her dark magic, while not as capable of his widespread devastation, was wonderfully versatile).

And then, finding her mood rather brighter than she had hoped for at the start of this night – Katarina grinned and slinked her way to the window of the whore's boudoir – stopping to contemplate the beauty of the night before letting the silk dressing-gown she had borrowed slip off her body and onto the floor.

Keith made a little noise behind her, which she had to assume was shock over what she had been actually wearing.

She really hadn't been kidding about wearing boiled leather. After all, if burglary might be one of her future careers, she couldn't always swan about in expensive gowns, now could she?

And even if her new form-fitting black leather suit hugged her curves scandalously and looked like something the finest whore in a brothel might wear – well, it wasn't as though many people would see her in it as she made her way through the night, would they?

And she had already left behind her fears of being "unqueenly" behind quite a distance back. So it wasn't as though she had much shame to spare either.

"Good night, brother," she said, actual excitement rising in her as she wrenched the window open with her shadows. "I truly am glad we have finally been able to talk again, even if it's in a rather… unusual context. And I am grateful that you agreed to help me as well! I swear, it will be worth your while in the end."

And then, shooting him a brilliant smile even as she braced herself over the window, she added: "I also settled your bill with the madame, as I know the happy event you hoped for didn't happen. It's the least I could do in response to your help."

And before Keith could pull himself out of his confused stupor and start grabbing her and asking for explanations she didn't want to give, Katarina gave him a jaunty wave and flung herself out the window –

The one that was set atop three entire floors.

It was a very good thing she had already learned to use her shadows to not only cloak herself and cut through locks but also to cling to walls and survive treacherous falls.

And if Keith gave a rather unmanly shriek in response to her apparently imperiling her life once more –

Well, he'd live. She needed to see him for combat training soon, after all.

And as Katarina ran deep into the shadows of the night, back to her suite, she did not try to hide her brilliant smile.

After all, her future now looked brighter – or should it be darker? – than ever before.

And even as she called the shadows to smooth her flight back home, she couldn't wait to see it unfurl.

oooooooo

Author's Note:

I'm not sure if I managed to convert any of you into being Keith/Katarina shippers... but damn did I have fun writing these two together! Although my goodness was poor Keith suffering more than Katarina ever dared to dream during this chapter. If only someone would write from his POV... (Hint hint if anyone wants to take this challenge up!)

Thank you all again for cheering me on with this story!