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The silence in the Ducale speaks volumes. Alanna feels the weight of the noise around her, piling up as people fight for her attention, her half of the key. It’s exhausting.
“Alanna,” Ethan says, his voice grave.
“His fate is written. Shall we write yours too?” Gabriel’s question comes out more like a statement, as if he’s certain she’ll pick him, leaving annoyance curling in Alanna’s gut. Where’s the fun in being predictable?
“Alanna,” Ethan repeats, sounding more desperate this time, and Alanna revels in the power she holds in this moment, the power of choosing between two powerful men vying for her choice.
“Alanna,” a voice comes softer from her side, and she turns to see Ilsa, gaze hard set yet somehow pleading. Something inside Alanna cracks, and she is reminded: it was never about the men.
She keeps her composure, very aware of the whole room watching her, and when she speaks she addresses Ilsa and Ilsa only.
“You better know what you’re doing,” she says, voice stone hard, knowing Ilsa can see right through the tough girl act to her worries about putting both halves of the key in someone she holds so dear.
“I always do,” Ilsa says, confident, impulsive, completely insane Ilsa, and Alanna nods. She glances at Grace who seems satisfied with the outcome and produces the key out of thin air to hand to Ilsa.
“Giving the key to your lover, Alanna?” Gabriel says, seeming slightly shaken by the turn of events. “Not the smartest idea.” The reactions in the room range from completely unsurprised at the fact that Ilsa and Alanna are together (Namely Ethan, Benji, and Luther) to slightly interested (Paris) to shocked (Grace).
Alanna fingers the pin in her coat pocket that she knows Ilsa carries with her in her long black trench coat, a symbol of alliance, and allows herself a dangerously sharp smile in Gabriel’s direction.
“You underestimate my power combined with hers,” she says, meeting Ilsa’s gaze for a fleeting moment, Ilsa’s determined blue eyes matching hers.
“There is no place on earth you can escape me,” Gabriel snarls, clearly losing his patience. “I will hunt all of you down and make you suffer so painfully you’ll regret your actions for generations to come.” Alanna purses her lips, aware that his threat isn’t an empty one, but Ilsa beats her to the chase.
“You’re an idiot if you think we’ll go down that easily,” she says, contempt clear in her tone, and Alanna doesn’t miss the we in her sentence, declaring their alliance final. She fights the urge to close the gap between them, take Ilsa’s hand firmly in hers and leave the whole party behind, destroy the key just to keep Ilsa and the world safe at the hands of this madman.
A glance at Ethan tells Alanna that he’s already calculating, running the numbers (probably not very in their favor) to try and make a plan.
“If that’s your choice,” Gabriel finally says, his voice cold, and without another word, turns and leaves the party. Alanna exchanges a glance with Zola, a silent request to keep tabs on Gabriel to see that he doesn’t make any trouble on his way out.
She finally turns to Ilsa, who is talking to Ethan, all business. “She comes with me,” Alanna says, crossing the space to where Ethan and Ilsa are talking.
“She’ll be safer with us,” Ethan argues. “We’re more off the grid than you are.”
“Do I get a say in this?” Ilsa asks wryly, and both parties turn to her somewhat guiltily. “I’m going with Alanna,” she says, and it takes nearly every muscle in Alanna’s body not to shoot Ethan a smug smirk.
“Okay,” Ethan says finally after a long exchange of glances with Ilsa, and Alanna can finally reach for Ilsa, who meets her halfway, lacing their fingers together and squeezing.
“We’ll contact you when it’s time,” Alanna says simply, and Ethan nods again.
“If you need anything,” he starts, and Ilsa lets a small smile slip.
“I know,” she says softly.
“Ready?” Alanna asks, and Ilsa nods, determination clear as day in her eyes. Alanna catches Grace’s eye on the way out and nods, sharp and curt, and Grace offers her a small smile in return. Alanna leads Ilsa around the edge of the crowd, mostly fillers she had found who had been excited at the prospect of going to an “exclusive” Venice party.
Halfway down the hallway to her suite and once the pulsing music has faded considerably, Alanna finally turns to Ilsa. Ilsa’s eyes are shining even in the dim lighting of the hall, and Alanna can finally let out a breath she barely knew she was holding.
“I have a safehouse in Comacchio where we can go,” is the first thing Alanna says, and Ilsa smiles, eyes tinged with melancholy as she takes Alanna in.
“We can’t stay there forever, you know,” she says softly, and Alanna pauses.
“I know,” she finally says, tone equally as soft, leaning back against the wall of the hallway, feeling herself slowly unraveling under Ilsa’s piercing gaze. “But we need to regroup, and I need to be with you, even if only just for one second,” she says, surprised by the vulnerability in her own voice.
“You’re risking the fate of the world for a moment of time together?” Ilsa asks, incredulous, and Alanna feels a wry smile rise to her lips.
“Among other things, yes,” she says, far past the point of half-truths between them. Ilsa seems to consider that for a moment, and Alanna watches as a layer of rigidity slowly starts to fall away from Ilsa before she pushes herself off of the wall opposite Alanna, a small smile gracing her lips.
“You’re impossible, you know that?” She says, and Alanna smiles, hearing the affection in Ilsa’s voice and knowing she’s won.
“Of course,” she concedes, meeting Ilsa halfway, arms circling around Ilsa’s waist as she leaves a small peck on her lips. Ilsa leans in again, and Alanna captures her lips in a slower kiss this time, feeling Ilsa relax further in her arms.
“I have a car waiting outside,” Alanna murmurs against Ilsa’s lips, and Ilsa smiles.
“We should go before Gabriel bombs the place, shouldn’t we,” she murmurs back, laughter in her voice despite the situation, and Alanna nods, her hand slipping into Ilsa’s.
“We have a two hour drive ahead of us,” Alanna says as she leads Ilsa down the hallway, the tension of their meeting slowly fading away as she basks in Ilsa’s presence next to her. They pass through Alanna’s suite in silence, and it’s only when they reach the car that Ilsa speaks again.
“We can do this,” she says, almost as if she’s trying to convince herself of something. “We just can’t trust anyone,” she says, turning to Alanna. “Except each other,” she adds, the reality of the situation slowly sinking into Alanna.
“We’ll make it,” Alanna says, far more confident than she feels, and Ilsa gives her a little smile, a smile that she’s grown to love so much over time as she slides into the driver’s seat. Alanna rounds the car to step into the passenger seat, and Ilsa shoots her a reassuring look.
“We’ll make it,” she says, repeating Alanna’s words as she squeezes her hand. “We always do.”