Cornelia stared ashenly at the boy standing before her. Unmistakably the boy from the golf course yesterday. Yet unmistakably… different, somehow. No longer wearing a mask. That feeling - her vague discomfort with him - had blossomed into a full-blown repulsion. She spoke the only words that came to mind.

"Get away from me."

The boy laughed, an odd, flute-like titter. "Just who do you think you're speaking to, girl?"

"… Girl? I'm older than you, and you're speaking to a Princess of Britannia, and you're making me uncomfortable, and I don't want to talk to you. Go. Away. Guards!" Cornelia called out. There were usually sentries within earshot. … Usually. Mostly she was hoping he'd hear her shout and decide to run for it. He clearly was not supposed to be here.

He seemed utterly unfazed by her shout. He didn't even glance around to ensure they were alone. "You poor child. Charles is making a fine mess of things. Do you want to see her again?"

"… What are you talking about?" Cornelia's fear began turning to confusion. She finally met his eyes with her own, narrowing her gaze.

"Lady Marianne." Cornelia stiffened. "Do you want to see her again? She wants to see you again." His eyes fell to that brooch she was clutching in her hand. For some reason, Cornelia covered it up. She felt as though she needed to protect it from him.

"How do you know Lady Marianne?" Cornelia's unease began to shift. Less acute, more generalized. What was wrong with him? And why did she no longer want to run away…?

"I asked you a question."

His rudeness was beginning to concern her less, too. For some reason, she felt as if she were growing… hypnotized, by him. Perhaps this is what had set off her alarm bells in the first place. "Of course I want to see her again. That's… the only thing I want."

"Even if you had to leave Euphie behind?"

"… I… I don't know." That… had never been something she'd even considered. She quickly decided, though. Shaking her head profusely. "No. No, I couldn't."

"She's pregnant."

Cornelia blinked. "… Lady Marianne's…?"

"Who else would I be talking about? She's sure of it. She needs your help." Hearing those words from any other pair of lips might have flooded Cornelia with joy. But hearing it from him…

"Who are you?" Whoever he was, he was not her father's caddy.

"If I wanted to talk about that, we'd be talking about that. I want to talk about Lady Marianne, and you coming to live with her. Like she promised. Like your mother wanted." Again… those words might have given her hope, if anyone else had said them... But he seemed like a chasm, into which hope tumbled and never emerged again.

It's a trap, her mind told her. She needs you, her heart shouted over it.

"… How could you possibly make that happen?"

"I won't. You will."

"And just how…"

"A simple contract." The boy smiled, offering his hand.

"Don't. Touch me." Cornelia tried to merge her back with the swing, backing into it like a cornered animal.

"You don't trust me?" The boy tilted his head. Then a very slow smile. "You're smarter than you look."

"And you're not my father's page, either. You don't belong here. … You don't belong anywhere." Cornelia stammered, unsure what drove her to add that last part.

For whatever reason, it made him laugh. "I like you, Cornelia. We really should make a contract, you and I. I'd love to see what you could become."

"I'm not interested." For once, her head had begun to overrule her heart.

"You don't understand. You wouldn't, until I show you. I'd give you power. The power to overcome what stands in your way. The power to take Euphie away from this. To join Lady Marianne, where you belong."

"I don't believe you."

"… I suppose you've a right not to, after what Charles put you through. Be patient with him."

Her guts sizzled at this boy's second mention of her father. "I hate him."

"You can make a contract with me, or you can make one with him. But either way, you are never going to see her again unless you give something up. Something precious to you." The boy put a hand on his hip, leaning in.

Cornelia began to say something - to ask what he meant, perhaps - but she couldn't. As those eyes began to loom larger in her vision, her words failed her.

"Would you die for her?" His words were calm, simple. But they carried immense weight.

"… I don't know what you mean." Cornelia's response wasn't quite a yes, and for some reason, as she realized that, she began to tingle with shame. Of course you would! Why not say so?!

"Dying for him is the one thing she can do for him that I can't." The boy's expression shifted, somehow. It was extremely subtle, but he was no longer entirely fixated on hypnotizing Cornelia. Instead, he backed off slightly, putting a finger to his chin and pouting. "She loves him. She just doesn't know it yet."

"… Why do you care? Are you talking about Marianne and the Emperor?"

"I'm talking about love. Do you love her?"

This time, Cornelia didn't hesitate. "Yes. I do." What was it with this boy? Cornelia felt the same inability to lie to him that she felt around… her father…

"Then give your life for her. You can give it to me or you can give it to him. He wants you to change who you are. I only want you to be you."

"Who are you?" She demanded it again.

He smiled, and shook his head. "You already know. I'm the devil, of course."

The serpent in the garden. Tempting her by telling her how cruel, how unfair, how demanding was her God, her creator.

But wasn't He cruel?

"… Tell me about this contract." She swallowed heavily, cheeks burning as she glanced down at her feet.

"As I said before, you wouldn't understand. You can't. You have to give me an answer before I show you."

"Those aren't very fair terms." She glowered at him, sitting up straight. Finally feeling as though she had some power of her own.

"I'm sorry, I can't change them. It works how it works."

"Some devil you are, then."

His grin widened. "Your answer?"

She swallowed again. Blinking back hot tears, but eventually, her head began to shake. No.

She wasn't going to give up her life to anyone. Not if it meant leaving Euphie behind. Not if it meant trusting this boy. Not if it meant making a deal before she knew the terms.

I'm sorry, Lady Marianne. "No."

His expression changed, to a seeming mixture of bland disappointment and odd nostalgia. "That's a shame. … But believe it or not, I'm proud of you, Cornelia. I hope we meet again someday."

For some reason, she believed him. It took every ounce of strength in her not to blurt out that she'd changed her mind, as he walked away.

He took a turn down a horse trail, and as he did, Cornelia struggled all the harder against herself. "wait…" Her voice escaped her, a hollow, quavering echo.

You just missed your chance.

"WAIT!" A weepy shout, as she stood and sprinted toward the trail. But as she looked down it, he was gone. Had he ever really been there in the first place…?

No deal with the devil could bring her back to Marianne's side.

But if she wanted it to happen… something he'd said stuck with her.

Give your life to him.