The Noble of Sperath

The Heirs of Eveinia, Book 1

Siera Maley

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

About the Author

Copyright © 2017 — Siera Maley

All rights reserved—No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the authors, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

Published in Atlanta, GA.

www.sieramaley.com

Cover & interior design by Ashley Clarke

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publications data is available upon request.

Isbn 978-1545039090

First Edition, 2017

Created with Vellum

1

She awoke to the feeling of hard wood beneath her shoulder blades and a coarse blanket atop her body. Her eyes ached and were slow to open, but through the ringing in her ears she could hear the scuffle of footsteps as someone moved about nearby.

“I’m surprised to see that she’s only a child.”

It took a moment for her to process each word as the low murmur reached her ears. She felt lethargic. The speaker sounded elderly, and though it was hard to hear him, she could tell that the voice belonged to a man.

The girl curled her fingers carefully, testing them, as she let her eyes adjust to the candlelight keeping the room aglow. The shadows cast along the walls and ceiling further obstructed her already hazy vision, but she could see that she was in a small room.

“You were not much older when you were called, sir.” The second voice came from another man, but he sounded much younger than the first.

A wooden cane thumped against the floor as the older man turned and approached her. She closed her eyes, hoping to hear more while they still believed she was asleep. She wasn’t sure where she was or who exactly these men were, but if they wished her harm, it was better to catch them by surprise while she still could.

She felt a calloused hand reach under the blanket to take hold of hers, and held her breath, resisting the urge to pull away. The hand turned hers over and withdrew it from beneath the blanket, exposing her palm. There was a moment of silence.

“Where did you find her?” asked the older man, still holding her hand in his.

The other was quick to respond. “In the Outer Circle. One day’s journey away. She was like this when I found her. She’s been in and out of consciousness since, but never for longer than a few minutes. Just as you predicted.”

“Then it won’t be long before she wakes up.” He replaced her hand underneath the blanket but remained at her side, watching her. A long silence enveloped the room, and the girl tried to keep her breathing even. She couldn’t remember waking up before, as the younger man had claimed. In fact, she couldn’t remember anything at all. Not even her own name. The realization frightened her, but still she stayed quiet, unmoving.

“Stay with her,” said the older man at her side. “I will retrieve the Oracle.”

“Yes, sir.”

The girl’s eyes remained closed as the man left her. A door slammed shut.

Under the blanket, she clenched her fingers into fists and then unclenched them. Her muscles ached, but reacted well. She let her head roll to the side, still feigning sleep, and waited, eyes closed, until she heard the sound of footsteps once more. Then she opened an eye and squinted out through her lashes.

The younger of her captors was hunched over a fireplace, reaching for a tinderbox that rested on its mantle. As she watched him, he struck a flint, casting sparks onto the pile of wood shavings beneath several logs, and then tended to the flames with a long, metal poker.

He was a good head or two taller than her and had large, broad shoulders attached to muscled arms. His hair was dark and matted down with sweat, and his face was splotchy from patches of dirt. His clothing, too, was dirty, with the exception of a small silver chain she could see clasped behind his neck. As she watched him, he finished with the fire, set the poker down on the ground, and then rose to his full height. The girl closed her eyes again when it became clear that he planned to move to her.

“Still asleep,” he said to himself, pausing when he reached her side. She heard him sigh before he added, “You must wake up sometime.” And then, curiously, “You can’t be much older than sixteen, can you? Far too young for this.” He moved away and she listened for his footsteps. This time, he did not go to the fireplace.

She clenched her fists again, and then tensed the muscles of her arms, her legs, and her stomach, warming them. Slowly, she felt her lethargy slipping away. She squinted out through her lashes once more, and saw the young man with his back to her, standing by a bookshelf. As he turned one of the books over in his hands, she began to struggle to sit up. Her muscles protested with every movement, but she ignored the pain, her eyebrows knitted together and her jaw tight. She had to get out.

She pushed the blanket aside, careful to remain silent, and then propped herself up with one hand and shakily slid to her feet.

The room was as small as she’d initially assumed, with wooden walls to match its flooring. It looked to be some sort of study, as the walls were covered with bookshelves and the only other objects of note were her own makeshift bed on a table, the two benches on either of its sides, the fireplace, and two armchairs on the opposite side of the room, where the young man still examined the book in his hand. Even as she watched him, he set the book down and then turned away from the shelf, toward her. His eyes widened.

The girl moved quickly, twisting away from him and darting toward the fireplace at the other side of the room. She stumbled, the weakness in her legs making it difficult to move, but the adrenaline rushing through her veins kept her on her feet.

“Wait!” the young man cried, but she was already reaching out for the fire poker as he raced after her. Her hand closed around the metal and she swung it around just in time to catch it on the front of his tunic, tearing a short line in the fabric. He jerked away, startled. She held the poker steady, the point inches from his chest, though her arms strained and her body trembled with the effort of keeping the weapon upright.

At a closer distance, the man looked even younger than she’d first assumed him to be. He was certainly older than her by at least a few years, but seemed the appropriate age for a husband or an older brother rather than a father. His hands were raised to his chest, palms out, in a show of surrender, and his eyes were wide with surprise, or perhaps fear.

“I’m here to help you,” he rushed to tell her. “I swear it.”

“How did I get here?” she asked. Her voice came out scratchy, as though she hadn’t had a drink in days, and it startled her. Still, she added, “How do I leave?”

“You can’t leave,” said the young man, and then balked when her eyes narrowed and she pressed the point of the poker to his chest. “I won’t stop you, but I’m not the one keeping you here. I only brought you here. I was following orders.”

“Where am I?”

“In a house in Lemn. In Ustera. You’re with the Keepers now. You’re safe here.”

She stared at him, hiding her confusion behind a glare. Hardly any of that had meant anything to her, but the idea of confessing so made her feel silly. “And why am I here?”

“I can answer that,” came a new voice.

The elderly man had returned, and now he stood in the doorway, a gentle smile on his lips. He seemed entirely unfazed by the sight of a small girl threatening a boy twice her size with a fire poker.

“I can explain everything,” he continued, stepping into the room. “Simply lower your weapon before you frighten poor Kaleb here any further.” He stretched an arm out toward the armchairs invitingly, the smile unwavering on his lips. “If it would comfort you to remain armed, you may do so. But we aren’t going to hurt you.”

The girl looked back and forth between them, clutching the fire poker so tightly that her knuckles had whitened and her fingers were beginning to throb. The younger man—Kaleb—still looked absolutely terrified, but the older man made no move to apprehend her. Instead, he waited patiently for a response, one hand on his cane while the other clutched a small book at his side.

“What’s that?” she asked sharply, nodding toward the book.

The older man’s smile only widened, and he raised the hand clutching the strange book to gesture toward the armchairs by the bookcase again. “Take a seat.”

Kaleb sipped the drink brought to her before she tasted it herself, in order to prove to her that it hadn’t been tampered with. When he was finished, she nodded her thanks and accepted the cup. She took a long drag, unable to hide her thirst, and the scratchiness was gone from her voice when she spoke next. “I’m sorry about your tunic,” she murmured to Kaleb, and he smiled far too widely at her.

There was little she could recall beyond how to speak and how to move her body, and she had no memory of life before waking up just minutes ago, but as Kaleb and the elderly man watched her sip her drink, it became clear to her that they were not to be feared. Though she kept the poker at her side, she knew it would likely be fruitless to try and fight the both of them with it, and yet they made no move to attack her.

“You have no memory,” said the older man once she’d set the cup aside. “You can’t even remember your own name.” It was a statement of fact, not a question.

“How did you know that?” she asked him, wondering if she’d somehow relayed this to Kaleb days before and then forgotten. “What else do you know? Where is my family? My parents? Why can’t I remember them? Why can’t I remember anything at all?”

She was burning with questions, but the man raised a hand, silencing her. “Have patience. You’ll understand everything soon.”

At her side, Kaleb said, “We don’t know anything about your family. I’m sorry. We don’t know who you were before I found you.”

“Then what do you know?” she asked. Her stomach growled suddenly, and she glanced downward, embarrassed. She was suddenly aware of an ache so deep in her belly that it was distracting.

“You did not feed her,” the old man noted, fixing Kaleb with a displeased look.

“I tried, sir, but all I could manage was a few sips of water. She was very weak.”

“She still is,” observed the old man, glancing down to where her hands shook as she held the poker. “It may be another day or two before we can properly start her training. She’ll have to regain strength.”

The girl looked up quickly at that. “Training? Why would I be training for at a time like this? I don’t even know who I am!” These men, she decided, were either just as mad as she was, or else were playing some sort of cruel joke on her. Perhaps she’d sustained an injury that had affected her memory, and they had decided to amuse themselves before nursing her back to health.

“Let’s put some food in you first, girl, and then we’ll explain everything,” said the old man. His tone was kind, but there was something quietly intimidating about him that made her inclined to obey. She looked to Kaleb, who she found far less threatening, and he gave her a smile and an encouraging nod.

“We’ll take you to the kitchen,” he offered. Her hands shook harder and the pain in her stomach intensified, and at last, she nodded her agreement.

“And then you’ll explain?” she clarified.

“And then we’ll explain,” promised Kaleb, so she rose and followed them out of the study.

The rest of the home was larger and more extravagant than she’d expected. The walls were covered in paintings, the windows were adorned with velvet red curtains, and the dining room chairs and table were made of darkened wood, not unlike the table in the study. The kitchen smelled faintly of sugar and pine, and she inhaled deeply as the men sat her down at the table and brought her a plate. The smell stirred something familiar deep within her own mind, but trying to discern exactly what that something was felt like trying to remember a word on the tip of her tongue.

Though initially the idea of postponing her questions in favor of eating had not been her idea, the girl changed her mind very quickly when she saw what the old man had prepared for her: porridge, eggs, and two large biscuits, both covered in grape jam. Several days without food had taken its toll on her, and she worked to clear her plate with a voracity that had even the much larger Kaleb watching on with a morbid fascination.

With Kaleb at her left and the old man at her right, she ate, and neither of them uttered a word until she was finished and her stomach had calmed at last. It was then that the old man told her, “We’ll start slow, so as not to overwhelm you. You are here because you’ve been called upon to serve the Divines.”

“That was starting slow?” interjected Kaleb, taken aback. The girl shot them both a look of amusement, certain now that they were both mistaken, or perhaps completely unhinged.

She’d lost her memories of her own life, but no strange injury could make her forget about the Divines and the world legend claimed they’d created long ago. Eveinia was a land divided into twelve smaller nations, and its capitol city, Vriidmont, stood alone in the center of Eveinia’s largest land mass. She knew this instinctively, though she could not find it in herself to remember anything about the nations beyond their names. It was as though she understood most words and the meanings behind them, but they held no genuine substance. She no longer had any personal experiences to draw from. And these men were claiming that the Divines had wished for this to happen to her?

“I think you must have me mistaken for someone else,” she said. “Or perhaps you’re just mistaken entirely.”

The old man did not address her concerns, and instead asked her, “What do you know about the Seers?”

The Keepers, the Seers… each phrase meant less to her than the one before it. “Nothing,” she said at last. “Again, I don’t think I’m the person—”

“And the emperor?” he tried instead, cutting off her protest. Beside him, Kaleb was frowning now.

She strained to remember why the word felt so familiar, and at last, it came to her. “The emperor. Emperor Levian. I don’t… I can’t recall anything else.”

“That’s correct,” praised the old man. “He was the ruler of Eveinia. Each of the twelve nations has its own royal family and is headed by a king and queen, but the emperor is the true ruler of Eveinia, said to be chosen by the Divines themselves. He lords over all of us with the help of his advisors, and is the ultimate authority of our world. Emperors pass down their crown—”

“By blood,” she recalled, the information suddenly and inexplicably at the forefront of her mind, as though it had been deliberately placed there. The effect was jarring, and she had to shake it off before she continued. “The firstborn of the emperor inherits the crown, no differently from how the kings and queens of the nations pass down their crowns.”

“Ah, but there is a difference,” corrected the man. “When a king or queen does not produce an heir, another of similar blood may take the crown after their deaths. A sister or a nephew, perhaps. But when the emperor does not produce an heir before his death, the lineage dies. A Seer is called.”

“What does that mean?” asked the girl, only growing more confused. “Why would it be different? And what does any of this have to do with me?”

“Eveinia survives upon the rules forged by the Divines. The emperor’s title was never meant to remain within a single bloodline. Imagine you are born into a family destined to rule our world from the beginning of time until the end. Would not that family eventually become corrupted by that power?”

“I suppose so,” she mused, “and yet the kings and queens are chosen by blood.”

“They answer to the emperor and his court in Vriidmont, therefore they are kept in check,” explained the man. “But we stray from our topic. You are here, quite simply, because the time has come to choose the first of a new bloodline. As of a fortnight ago, Levian is dead, as is his only child: a young man named Cedric. Now a new emperor must be chosen by a Seer, as the Divines have written. You, my dear girl, are that Seer. And that is why you are here.”

The girl felt as though she’d been hit over the head with a club. She could sense that the old man was being entirely genuine, even without her memories, and it left her at a loss for words. Kaleb reached out for her hand and grasped it in what he seemed to think was a comforting gesture.

“I sent Kaleb to the Outer Circle to find you, and thankfully, he was successful. There are others who might wish you harm, as you can imagine,” continued the old man. If he’d noticed her stunned silence, he did not acknowledge it. “You are in a particularly large amount of danger, as a matter of fact, given that you are the first Seer in Eveinia’s recent history to be called as a result of an assassination.”

“Assassination?” she echoed, finding her voice at last. Her mind raced to keep up with the old man even as she asked, “But who would kill an emperor? Who could kill an emperor?”

“We think it was—” began Kaleb, but the old man put a hand up to silence him.

“We can only speculate at the moment, and we have much work to do. Your task, for the most part, is simple: you are to present the Divines with twelve potential heirs to the throne; one heir from each nation. This means that you must find them, first. When the time comes, the Divines will speak through you and make the final decision. One of the heirs will become the next emperor: the beginning of a fresh bloodline, now that Levian’s has come to an end.”

“But why do I need to be involved at all?” asked the girl. “Why can’t they just choose someone now?”

“Each nation was created equally by the hands of the Divines, and so each nation deserves to have a representative selected. That is why you must find twelve. As for why you must do the finding, rather than the Divines themselves… The heirs, particularly so in this case, would be in grave danger were they to be announced to the world. Having a chosen servant quietly collect the heirs helps to circumvent this danger. No one will know who the heirs are—not even the heirs themselves—until you inform them of their true nature.”

“And you expect me to just… accept this,” the girl replied, aghast. “As though I have nothing better to do than to take on this role and put myself at risk. I want my memories back. I want my old life back, and to see my family again. I certainly didn’t ask for any of this.”

“None of them ever do,” muttered Kaleb, “and yet they are still chosen.” The girl fixed him with a glare.

“How was I chosen, then? Tell me. Maybe there’s a way to change their choice.”

Kaleb looked as though he wanted to answer, but the old man spoke up first. “That the Divines have chosen you is what matters now; why they have done so is not important. It cannot be undone.” He rose from the table, suddenly, and gestured for her and Kaleb to follow his lead. Kaleb obeyed instantaneously. “That’s enough for today. Allow Kaleb to show you to your quarters. You’ll stay there for the night, and we’ll continue this conversation tomorrow, once you’ve had time to sleep.”

“You expect me to just sleep the night away after this?” she asked him. “As though you haven’t told me I have a murderer skilled enough to kill the most powerful man in Eveinia coming after me? Because if he wanted the old emperor dead, I can’t imagine he’ll want me choosing the new one.”

“You’ll be safe here,” the man reassured her.

“How can you be certain?”

“Because you are faster, stronger, and more agile than you think. The Divines would not put you in such peril without giving you the skills to keep yourself alive. We simply have to take the time to hone those skills.”

“But I haven’t had the time,” she pointed out.

“No,” agreed the man. “But you are not the only Seer in this house. Sixty years ago, I chose a new emperor, just as you will soon choose. And until you are strong enough to protect yourself, I will ensure your safety.” With that, he motioned to Kaleb, who took the girl by the arm and gently led her away before she could say any more.

The room that Kaleb showed her to was barren save for a bed, a single desk and chair, and a small wardrobe. It was clear to the girl from the room’s lack of décor that it typically went unused, and had likely been prepared for her shortly after her arrival.

“I’ve placed some of my old things in there,” said Kaleb, gesturing to the wardrobe. “They won’t fit well, but I can take you to find something that will. Perhaps tomorrow.”

He stood with her for a moment as she looked around. Finally, she shuffled over to the bed and took a seat, feeling sick to her stomach. Kaleb cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“I should go. Grerick’s asked that I lock the door behind me, but…” He trailed off, looking pained, and then finished, “I’d prefer not to.”

“Grerick’s the old man?” she asked. Kaleb nodded. “Did he really used to be like me?”

“He was a Seer, yes. The one before you.”

“And he forgot everything?” At Kaleb’s nod, she questioned, “Then how does he know his name?”

“Grerick wasn’t the name he was born with. He chose it. Some of your memories may begin to return to you soon, but you won’t recall everything. You won’t recall most things, in fact.”

“Will I remember who my parents are?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can I go my whole life not knowing who my mother and father are?”

Kaleb gave a wry smile. “Well, I never really knew my parents. It isn’t easy, but I’ve found that it’s gotten less difficult with time.”

He turned to leave, but she stopped him with a quick, “Wait.” When he’d faced her again, she asked, “Can you stay for just a little bit? I don’t want to be alone.”

Kaleb seemed to consider it for a moment, and cast a glance toward the doorway behind him. “Only for a little while,” he agreed at last, and moved to close the door.

“Who are the Keepers?” was her first question, once Kaleb had situated himself at the desk across from her. “Grerick mentioned them earlier.”

“The Keepers work with each Seer to ensure that they locate the twelve potential heirs to the emperor’s throne. At least one is quietly stationed in every city in Eveinia. They’re recruited to work in secret, and take a blood oath to serve the Divines, the Seer, and the twelve heirs. Lemn is not a large city, and so I suppose I’m the only Keeper here. Essentially, we are an underground network of helpers ready to assist you during your search.”

“How did you wind up living with a man like Grerick? And becoming a Keeper?”

“Sometime after his duties as a Seer were fulfilled, Grerick retired to Lemn to live out the rest of his life. Eventually, he found me out on the streets. I was a child. He raised me as his own. I have no memory of my father, and can’t even recall my mother’s face.”

“So you have no idea what happened to them?” she asked him.

“No more than you do about what happened to yours.” He smiled at her, and her eyes fell to the necklace he wore. She could recall noticing it back when she’d first woken up, but now she saw the strange pendant that hung from the chain. It was comprised of three horizontal bars fashioned from silver, with a fourth line that ran down them at their middles, linking them.

“What’s that?” she asked him, gesturing to the pendant. Kaleb looked down, confused, until he realized she’d been looking at the necklace. He seemed embarrassed as he tucked it back into his shirt.

“Oh. Grerick gave me that as a boy. I use it for prayer, is all.”

“What kind of prayers?” she wondered. “Prayers to whom?”

“Well, to the Divines, of course,” said Kaleb. When she still looked curious, he relented and removed the pendant from within his shirt so that she could see it again, tracing over one of the lines with his thumb. “The vicars in Cadlar often wear clothing or other items bearing this symbol. It’s a symbol of faith. The three lines represent each of the Divines, and the fourth binds them together.”

“You seem very devout,” she noticed.

“You must be in order to be a Keeper,” Kaleb replied curtly. “The Keepers serve the Seer, and the Seer fulfills the will of the Divines.” He tucked the pendant into his shirt again, and she sensed that he wanted to move on.

“So I’m meant to name myself, then?” she questioned next, forcing herself to change topics. She feared if she prodded too much, he’d clam up completely, and she knew it was best she played along and made Kaleb and Grerick comfortable, at least for now.

“Well, it’d be much easier than calling you ‘girl’,” he said.

“Do you have any ideas?” she asked.

“The decision is yours.”

“I know. But you might have some I’d like.”

Kaleb seemed to think it over for a moment. “I suppose.” He relaxed against the back of the chair, tapping his chin with a finger. “How about Peony?”

“Like the flower?” she asked, recoiling.

“You don’t want a pretty name?” Kaleb seemed confused. “Not Lily? Rose?”

“If I’m really who you and Grerick believe I am, I should think my name would need to be intimidating,” said the girl. “Or at least not… flowery.”

Kaleb sat in silence for a moment, thinking. At last, he perked up. “I’ve got it! One of my favorite stories as a child was about the greatest woman thief in Eveinia. It’s a true story, but the legend goes that she could steal anything. Once she even stole the crown of the Queen of Desdwin right from her bedside. Her name was Talia.” He turned to her. “You could be called ‘Talia’.”

“Or just ‘Lia’,” she suggested. “Yes, I think I’d like ‘Lia’.”

“‘Lia’ it is, then.” He started to smile at her again, but then seemed to catch himself and stood quickly, clearing his throat. “Well, I should get cleaned up. If you’d like to change, there are clothes in the wardrobe, though as I said, I’m not sure that they’d fit well. Tomorrow I can show you around Lemn and we’ll find something that suits you, but for tonight, you should stay in this room. It isn’t safe for you to be alone outside, especially late at night.” Kaleb gave her a small half-smile. “I won’t lock the door tonight, if that’s alright with you.”

“That seems ill-advised.”

“Yes. But I want to prove that you can trust me.” He nodded once at her, and then left the room and pulled the door shut behind him. She stared at the closed door for a moment, and to her own surprise, did not feel at all tempted to try to leave. Something deep within her told her that in this house was where she was meant to be, at least for the time being.

Grerick and Kaleb were not her family, and this was not her home, but staying with them for the night was much safer than venturing out into the darkness with no memory and nowhere to go. For now, that was reason enough to stay put.

She slept that night, but not well. Her mind raced until the moment she fell unconscious, and even then, she dreamt of a large, grandiose castle, and of a ballroom filled with swaying couples, the women in bright, flowing dresses and the men in dark waistcoats.

Then the scene changed, and at the other end of a castle’s stone hallway a young woman peered out at her darkly from beneath a coal black hood. Her pale face was framed by short, raven hair, and her eyes were black with malice. Though she seemed to be unharmed, blood dripped onto the stone floor from the cloak she’d wrapped around herself.

Lia jolted awake, heart pounding, and lay still for several minutes, trying to collect herself. The images from the dream were seared into her mind.

When she’d calmed down, she rose from her bed and left the room to look for water to soothe her sore throat. Now that she was alone, she took her time examining the paintings in the hallways as she wandered them. She wondered how long it had taken Grerick to amass them all. It appeared that he’d gotten a chance to live a life outside of being a Seer, or at least enough of a life that he’d had time to develop a hobby. She hoped she’d get the same opportunity. She wished, of course, that she could undo the process entirely, but without knowing how she’d become the Seer, she had no inkling of how exactly to un-become it.

Lia paused when she passed the study and heard voices from within. It was Grerick and Kaleb.

She crept closer to the door, careful to keep her footsteps soft, and leaned in to press her ear to the wood. The voices were muffled, but audible.

“—possible she might have been an unlucky chambermaid, I suppose,” said Grerick. “It would even be preferable in this case, given how Emperor Levian met his end.” She heard the rustle of a page being turned. “The Oracle has nothing more for me. It is hers now.”

“Does it matter what she was?” asked Kaleb. “Or who she was? I understand how she became the Seer, but that doesn’t mean she had anything to do with his death. You really think that she could be responsible for his murder?”

Lia gave a start and then immediately moved away from the door, stunned. She was frozen for a moment, mind racing as she tried to search her memories for something to prove that Grerick’s suspicions were wrong. But there was nothing. She couldn’t even insist that she wasn’t a killer.

She raised her arms and looked down at the backs of her hands, wondering who they’d touched and what they’d done. Her own body was a stranger to her, and the thought made her skin crawl.

She turned her hands over to look at her palms, and stared at what she found. On her right palm was a small black symbol she didn’t recognize. It looked vaguely like an eye, but twelve small dots surrounded its edge, spaced evenly apart. She reached out with her left hand to try to rub the symbol away, but it seemed to be etched into her skin somehow. Even when she rubbed until her palm was red and raw, the image remained.

She didn’t realize she was frustrated to the point of crying until she felt a tear slide down her cheek, and even then, she simply wiped it away and moved to find the kitchen, abandoning her efforts to get rid of the symbol. On the way there, she passed what she recognized as the home’s front door, but still she made no move to leave. She was trapped: not physically, but with the knowledge that Grerick and Kaleb were the only people who had answers to her many questions. Her chances of returning to her old life soon if she stayed with them seemed minimal, but if she left, she’d have no guide and no inkling of where to start.

And so she collected her drink from the kitchen, quietly returned to her room, and tried her best to go back to sleep.

2

Kaleb laughed openly at her the next morning when she met with him for breakfast. Rather than remain in the dirty clothes she’d arrived in, she’d elected to search the wardrobe for something passable. What she’d found was a pair of trousers that was several inches too long for her legs and barely stayed up at her hips, along with a tunic so big its sleeves completely swallowed up her hands.

“Quiet,” she snapped at him as she joined him at the table, where a second plate already awaited her.

“You’ll be surprised to know that the tunic was a good choice, at least for now,” said Kaleb, though he was still grinning. “It covers the mark on your palm. I assume you’ve noticed it by now.”

She shot him a dark look, and his smile faded. “Yes, thank you for warning me about the strange symbol on my hand.”

“I apologize. There’s a lot you need to know, and obviously neither Grerick nor myself has done this before. You’ll learn more today. Eventually, you’ll know everything you need to.”

“So start with the symbol,” she suggested.

“Anyone who sees it will know who you are; we’ve all heard of the Seers and seen drawings of the symbol, or as we call it, the mark. No one really knows where it comes from, only that every Seer to ever exist has had it. It identifies you to your friends, and it might help you get out of tough situations with authorities, but unfortunately, you can’t exactly flash it around, because it also identifies you to your enemies.”

“Has anyone tried to kill Seers in the past, or am I in a particularly large amount of danger?” asked Lia.

“You’d be better off asking Grerick, but not that I’m aware of. People like the Seers. They fix Eveinia when it’s on the brink of chaos. But none of the Seers from the past—again, that I know of—have found themselves in your situation. It takes a lot of planning to get away with killing the emperor of Eveinia. It’d be silly to believe that there isn’t something bigger happening here, and that there weren’t a lot of people involved. Anyone’s a potential enemy.”

“Anyone?”

“For the most part, yes. It may seem like an overreaction to you, but in this case paranoia is a virtue.” Kaleb set down his fork and rested his arms on the table, watching her eat.

“So then what about me?” she asked, arching a brow at him. Kaleb looked confused. “Am I a cold-blooded killer?”

He heaved a sigh at her and rested his head in his hands. “You left your room last night,” he guessed. Despite his appearance, his tone sounded vaguely accusing.

“Only to get a drink of water,” she replied.

Kaleb lifted his head to look back at her. “What you overheard was a very small part of a very long conversation. I don’t think you had anything to do with Levian and Cedric’s murders.”

“What about Grerick?”

“He’ll exhaust every possibility just for the sake of precaution, but that doesn’t mean he believes anything about who you were. It’s all speculation.”

“So then what’s your best speculation?” she asked him, genuinely curious. “You’ve obviously spoken at length about it. Who do you think I was? I’d like to know.”

Kaleb seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then glanced over his shoulder, as though checking to ensure Grerick wasn’t within earshot. When he faced Lia again, he said, “We have reason to believe that you worked at the castle in Vriidmont. We believe you were there on the night of the murders. But I don’t think you were the killer.”

“How can you be sure of any of that?” Lia wondered. “I thought you didn’t know anything more than I did about who I used to be.”

Kaleb looked hesitant once again. “Well, we can’t be certain about much of anything right now. What we do know is that there was a ball that night, so it was particularly chaotic and there were a lot of strange visitors. The killer probably snuck in with the partygoers.”

“A ball?” Lia echoed. She recalled the brief dream she’d had the night before, and the image of the strange raven-haired woman in the coal hood. Perhaps the images had so easily stuck with her when she’d awoken because they hadn’t been dreams at all, but memories. The thought reinvigorated her. If she’d already begun to recall her past, it wouldn’t be long before she’d remember something that would help her find her family and return to her old life.

Kaleb looked like he wanted to say more, but Grerick’s cane thumped against the floor from around the corner, signaling his approach. Instead, Kaleb told her, “So you and I will get you new clothes today and I’ll show you around Lemn. Grerick is staying here, but when we return, he’ll let you see the Oracle: the book you saw him carrying last night.”

“What’s so special about that book?” she asked him, but the answer came from Grerick instead as he joined them at the table.

“The Keepers believe that the Oracle was sent down from the Divines themselves to assist the Seers. They believe it’s divine, just like the mark on our palms.”

“You think that this came from a god?” Lia asked, doubtful. She raised her arm so that the thick sleeve fell down to her elbow, and then showed him the mark on her right palm. As Grerick took a seat beside her, she glanced at his own palm, and caught a glimpse of a symbol that did in fact look identical to her own.

“It certainly didn’t come from anything human,” said Kaleb. “I wasn’t so sure that the Divines existed when I was a boy, but after seeing what Grerick can do, it’s hard not to believe that there’s something up there looking out for us.”

“What can you do?” she asked Grerick. “Will I be able to do the same things?”

“You’ll find that it’s easier for you to learn how to fight,” he explained. “As we said last night, you’ll be a little stronger, a little tougher, and a little quicker. Spend enough time honing your skills and you’ll be surprised at the results.”

“Maybe she already knows how to fight,” Kaleb suggested hopefully.

“How could I?” asked Lia.

“The mind forgets, but the body remembers,” Grerick advised. “Kaleb will be training you in the field behind our home. Your condition seems to have improved greatly overnight, so you’ll start today.”

“Why aren’t you the one training me, if it’s so important that I learn to defend myself?”

“Because I’m old, dear girl,” said Grerick, laughing. It was the first time she’d heard him laugh, and though she knew it would take a while for her to warm to him, it did serve to make him seem less threatening. “Kaleb has been my apprentice since he was a boy. He’ll do a fine job.”

Kaleb saw she’d cleared her plate and stood abruptly, beckoning to her. “Ready to go?”

She looked down at her clothing and nodded dismally. “I suppose.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know exactly where to take you to get something that fits.”

Grerick and Kaleb lived on the edge of town, and so the walk to the town square was a long one. There, claimed Kaleb, waited a woman at the local apothecary who could help them. As they traveled, they passed rows and rows of identical small, one-story houses.

“Your home stands out,” Lia noticed. “If I came here looking for a new Seer to murder, the lavish mansion where the previous Seer lives would be the first place I’d check.”

“Eveinia is such a large place, and very few people know Grerick’s true identity after all these years, even if he does live in a mansion. No one would think to check so thoroughly in a town like Lemn. Just make sure you don’t reveal your palm and you’ll be fine.”

“If no one would check Lemn, why do I need to hide it?” asked Lia.

“No one would go hunting for you in Lemn, but much like you have friends in every town—the Keepers—I think it’s likely you have enemies waiting in every town, too.”

“Enemies like the people you believe killed the emperor,” Lia clarified.

Kaleb nodded. “Sincaeles’ is what they call themselves. It means ‘one without the heavens’. They brand the letter ‘S’ into the backs of their necks, so they’re easily identifiable, but even so, you should stay in and around our home as often as possible while we’re in Lemn.”

“One without the heavens,” Lia echoed. “So why is it that they don’t like me?”

“Well, the legend goes that the Seers are plucked from the masses by the Divines themselves and appointed to choose who will rule as emperor. It’s not uncommon for people to doubt that it’s a fair system, but most simply accept the way that things are and go about their lives, because that’s the way it always has been. Sometimes you’ll find a rare soul who isn’t fond of the Seers but would never actually take action against you.”

“And these people would,” Lia guessed.

Kaleb nodded. “Sincaeles was born from those who felt it necessary to take action. But as recently as a few short years ago, the bulk of their membership was simply crazy men shouting on street corners. And then, not long ago, those men suddenly vanished. Sincaeles went silent. Grerick believes that something or someone changed them in that short time—organized and reshaped them.”

“But how do you know that they’d actually murder an emperor? That seems a far cry from protesting on streets. Have they taken credit for it?”

“No one has been caught or come forward, but it’s his son’s death that points to Sincaeles,” clarified Kaleb. “If Levian dies, the throne is Cedric’s. So the only reason to kill Cedric would be to prevent him from inheriting the throne after Levian’s death. That tells us that whoever did this wanted to remove all heirs to the throne so that a Seer would be called. And Sincaeles would love nothing more than to finally put an end to the Seers. It fits too well, especially given the timing of their sudden withdrawal from the public eye.”

“But how does killing me end the Seers? Won’t I just be replaced by another one?”

Kaleb shook his head gravely. “No. If you die, there is no replacement, and no precedent for how the next emperor should be chosen. Your death would be a direct move against the will of the Divines, which is exactly what Sincaeles wants. They want things to change, and it appears that they’re willing to do whatever they need to do to get rid of you and the power you hold.”

“But they’re not wrong about one thing,” said Lia. “This is too much power for one person to hold.”

“Their position relies on the assumption that the Divines don’t exist. But that mark on your hand is proof that they do. And if the Divines really did choose you, then you’re justified in having the power that they’ve granted to you, don’t you think?”

“But I don’t even know how I was chosen. And I certainly don’t feel like some grand ‘chosen one’ who’s meant to do and be all of things you’d said. In fact, I feel unlucky. And if you know how and why I was selected, why can’t you just tell me?” she asked him, frustrated. “Help me understand. Can’t you at least explain why you think I have anything to do with Levian’s death at all?”

“It’s not up to me. Grerick makes that decision, and he thinks that you shouldn’t be told yet,” said Kaleb. “Dwelling on the past has never worked for me, anyway, and I doubt you’ll have better luck with it. What matters right now is the road ahead, especially with the danger you’re in. You’ll get your answers eventually.”

“That isn’t good enough,” she argued, “especially given what you expect me to do for you.”

“It’ll have to be,” Kaleb replied. “And it’s no use arguing it with me. Grerick makes the rules. I simply follow them.”

Lia, though disgruntled, let the matter rest for the time being. “Well, I’m surprised that the great Grerick let me leave the house,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “if Sincaeles could really be anywhere, like you seem to think. I find it hard to believe I’m in as much danger as you say.”

Kaleb shot her a look of disapproval. “Today we’re only visiting Sasha. She’s a friend. But you should stay on guard until we’ve reached her shop.”

As they grew closer to the center of Lemn, the streets began to crowd, and Lia garnered more than a few strange looks in her oversized clothing. At Kaleb’s behest, she kept her head down and avoided making eye contact with anyone.

At last, they reached the apothecary. It was a two-story building with a picture of what Lia supposed was some sort of medicinal herb hanging on the door, and as they entered, a small bell rang above their heads. Kaleb explained, “Sasha has lived here for about six months, on the second floor. She runs her shop right out of her home. She should have some old clothing upstairs for you, I’d imagine, and she owes me a favor.”

“I thought she was a friend,” Lia murmured. She looked ahead and saw there was no one waiting behind the counter.

“She is.”

“So is she a friend or does she owe you a favor?”

“Both,” replied Kaleb, looking vaguely annoyed. Lia masked her amusement as footsteps echoed from the far side of the shop. A small, blonde woman descended the stairs, one hand already raised in greeting, but her eyes lit up when she saw who was there.

“Kaleb!” She rushed down the steps and bounded over to wrap him up in a tight hug, and Lia hid a smile at the sight of Kaleb’s reddening cheeks. Sasha looked to be just about his age, and she was beautiful. “And who is this?” asked Sasha as she pulled away from Kaleb and turned to Lia.

“This is Lia,” Kaleb explained. “As you may have been able to guess, we were hoping you’d be able to find her something appropriate to wear.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Lia. Yes, those are certainly too big for you,” agreed Sasha, reaching out to touch the sleeve of her top with distaste. “Do you know your size?” Lia shook her head. “Well, how old are you?”

Lia glanced to Kaleb, panicked.

“We’re not sure. It’s a long story,” Kaleb cut in hastily. Thankfully, Sasha seemed to accept his answer without question. She studied Lia for a moment.

“Hmm. Well, you can’t be too much younger than me, and so certainly not much smaller…” she trailed off, and then glanced to Kaleb. “What do you think: eighteen years old, perhaps?”

“I was thinking closer to sixteen.”

“No, she just has a young face. She’s certainly not older than us, but I’d guess she’s a woman. Eighteen, or perhaps nineteen. She’d fit in what I wear now, I’d think. I can spare a few outfits.”

“Thank you,” said Kaleb. “Something she can travel in, if possible.”

“Of course.” Sasha beckoned to Lia. “Come, we’ll get you changed upstairs.”

Lia looked to Kaleb for guidance, uncertain, but he nodded his approval, so she followed Sasha up the stairs.

When they were alone, Lia found herself in what appeared to be a one-room home. A single bed rested in one corner, a table in another, and a wardrobe in a third. Sasha rummaged through the wardrobe for a moment, picking out several articles of clothing while Lia hovered near the stairs. When Sasha turned back to her, she had a pile of clothing in her arms.

“Thank you for doing this,” said Lia, embarrassed. “I know I’m a stranger to you.”

“But Kaleb isn’t. And I know he’s a good man. If he’s helping you, it’s because he sees some good in you.” She set the clothes down on the table as she added, “I also know that he spent too much of his own childhood on the streets as well. No one deserves that. Here.” She took some of the clothing back into her arms and offered an outfit’s worth to Lia. “Change into this and we’ll see how it fits. Call me back up when you’re finished?”

Lia nodded and Sasha moved past her, descending the stairs to rejoin Kaleb. Lia waited until she heard them speaking to start changing.

There was a mirror not far from the wardrobe, and she used it to study herself as she removed Kaleb’s oversized clothing and donned Sasha’s. Her hair was dark—almost as dark as Kaleb’s—and stopped midway down her back. It was tangled and dirty and she recoiled at the sight of it. Her eyes were a deep brown, and she suspected her skin was currently a shade darker than usual given that it was covered in a subtle layer of dirt. She vowed to ask Grerick to let her bathe later.

Sasha had given her a pair of trousers to try on, which fit much better than Kaleb’s. The top was a white long-sleeved tunic that was just a little too large on her—it helped to cover her palms, but didn’t seem very practical if she was meant to be learning to fight. Still, it would have to do, and she was thankful just to be out of Kaleb’s clothing.

Sasha returned a couple of minutes later and beamed at the sight of her. “Oh, you look so much better! Though you should roll up the sleeves of the tunic; they’re just a bit too long for you…” She went to Lia and reached down to adjust the sleeves herself, and Lia was careful to keep her palms down to hide the symbol. She felt Kaleb was probably exaggerating the level of danger she was actually in, and perhaps even exaggerating her importance as well, but something told her it was better to err on the side of caution anyway. “There!” Sasha took a step back, appraising her. “Now it’s perfect. Kaleb!”

Kaleb ascended the stairs at Sasha’s shout and peered over at them. When he saw Lia, he smiled brightly. “Wow! She is a woman!”

“Hush,” ordered Sasha at the same time that Lia rolled her eyes. They shared an annoyed look and Lia resisted the urge to smile as Sasha muttered, “These men, you see how they treat us? And yet we’re meant to choose one to live with for the rest of our lives.”

“It was a joke!” Kaleb insisted. And then, leaning forward to rest his arms on the bannister, he asked, “Why don’t you come by for supper sometime this week? You don’t have plans, do you?”

“Besides running my own shop?”

“Take the time off for one meal,” pressed Kaleb.

“You should,” Lia joined in suddenly, nudging Sasha. She liked the woman, and even more so liked the idea of having someone around to talk with other than Grerick or Kaleb. “Kaleb’s right; closing for one meal won’t hurt, will it?”

“Well, alright, then,” Sasha sighed out. “But not for you, Kaleb.”

“Of course not,” said Kaleb, grinning, and Sasha sighed at him again.

“I’ll stop by tonight. Now get out of my shop, you.” Kaleb looked alarmed, like he hadn’t anticipated her coming over so soon, but she missed his expression when she turned to Lia. Her tone was kinder now. “And don’t forget the clothing I’ve left for you on the table.”

“You like her,” declared Lia just minutes into their walk back to Grerick’s mansion.

Kaleb scoffed as though the mere idea offended him. “And how is this any of your business? I have a job to do, and that certainly doesn’t involve some romantic entanglement with a healer.”

“Yet you invited her over one morning after my arrival.”

“Yes, well… I didn’t think she’d suggest tonight, and she deserved something in return for the clothes she gave you.”

“I thought she owed you a favor?” Lia asked, grinning. When he pulled a face but didn’t reply, she added, “She’s a healer. She could be useful, if you’re really going to make me search the world for twelve different people with a group of trained killers trying to stop us. Maybe if she came with us, or even better, if we stopped this nonsense and didn’t go at all—”

“We can’t just not do our duty. And what we’re doing is dangerous. I couldn’t risk her getting hurt.”

“Because you care about her. Because you like her.” Lia arched an eyebrow at him. “Right?”

“I don’t dislike her,” said Kaleb, his voice stiff.

“Don’t worry. I think she likes you, too. She acts how women act around men they like.”

“Upwards of eighteen years of memory gone, but you’re certain you recall that?” asked Kaleb, chuckling. “What would you know about men and women?”

“It’s entirely possible that I’ve been with someone before, if I’m eighteen or nineteen,” insisted Lia. “Not that I know much about what kind of person I used to be, but I know romance couldn’t have been a completely foreign concept.”

“You’re unwed,” Kaleb reminded her. “You’d have been wearing a wedding band when I found you otherwise.”

“That wouldn’t have mattered to me if I really loved someone. Or perhaps if I was just very attracted to someone,” she mused, and then chuckled at the appalled look on Kaleb’s face. “What?”

“I’m not opposed to seeing you settle in a little, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard a woman speak that way before,” he said.

“Maybe you don’t spend enough time around women,” Lia teased, and then twisted to the side to avoid Kaleb’s light attempt to hit her arm.

Grerick immediately wanted to show Lia the Oracle when they returned. No sooner had they entered his home than he was sweeping them back to the study room, where they all gathered around the table Lia had first woken upon. Grerick set the leather-bound book on the surface between Lia and him as Kaleb watched from across the table.

Up close, Lia could see that the brown cover was strangely ordinary. It was completely blank, in fact. She’d expected some indication that the book was divine in nature, or even special at all. Instead, it was entirely unremarkable.

“Here it is,” Grerick explained. “This book should never leave your side once you set out on your mission. It holds the key to finding the twelve heirs and allowing the Divines to choose a new ruler.”

Lia remained silent, but couldn’t keep the corners of her lips from upturning with amusement. Grerick paused, studying her for moment.

“I can assure you that there’s nothing funny about any of this,” he said at last, and Lia quashed her expression, embarrassed.

Across from her, Kaleb let out a quiet sigh. “You’re in denial,” he told her. “It’s understandable, given the circumstances, but the sooner you move past it, the sooner we can fulfill our duties.”

“Alright,” she began, shaking her head, “I understand that what’s happened to me isn’t normal. I believe that you both believe everything that you’ve told me. But you can’t possibly expect me to just accept all of this without proof, can you? That I’m some divinely-chosen hero meant to go on some great journey to save the political stability of Eveinia with a group of trained killers trying to stop me all the while? I’m just a girl, and you’re both either mad or have a twisted sense of humor.” She held up her right palm, showing them the mark. “For all I know, you could have drawn this on with some sort of irremovable ink while I slept.”

“The Oracle is your proof,” said Grerick.

“Then show me,” she urged, and Grerick opened the book to its first page. It was covered in rows and rows of peculiar symbols. None of them meant anything to her. “I don’t understand. Are these supposed to say something?” She gave a small laugh, but found herself running a finger along one row of symbols curiously.

“They do form sentences,” Grerick explained, “but only for those meant to read them. These sentences weren’t for you or for me. They were for a past Seer.” At her confused look, he began to flip through the book, and Lia caught glimpses of dozens of pages filled with more strange symbols. “The Oracle is special in that it contains the entire past, present, and future of the Seers. The book is passed down from Seer to Seer, or else left with the emperors when the gap between Seers grows larger than a lifetime. Each line of text in this book was written for someone different. Your line of text should be somewhere around… here.” He stopped, at last, on the very final page of the book, and Lia stared.

“I don’t understand,” she said, finally. “What will happen when the book ends?”

“I suppose we’ll find out, won’t we?” said Grerick. “See, this line of text here I can read.” His finger slid upward, about a dozen lines or so, until it settled on one near the top of the final page. “It told me where to find the first of my twelve heirs, sixty-four years ago. And the next line, here, was one only the first heir could understand. It told us where to find the second heir, who then was able to translate the next line, and so on and so forth, for all twelve. When I found the twelfth, he read the line that told me where to take the twelve heirs, so that the Divines could make contact and choose the emperor.”

“And who was chosen?” asked Lia, curious.

“The seventh,” said Grerick fondly. “A healer from Sperath. She ruled well. Levian was her grandson, and Cedric her great-grandson.” He returned to the book, eager to stay on task. “After that twelfth line, there was one more here. Another line for me.” He pointed to a series of illegible symbols at the middle of the page. “This line says: ‘Twelve days past, the next Seer will emerge where the path from Lemn to Vriidmont meets the Outer Circle.’”

“Is that why you moved to Lemn all those years ago?” Lia asked. Kaleb nodded beside her before Grerick could answer. “But what does ‘twelve days past’ mean?”

“I didn’t understand, either. Not until news of Levian and Cedric’s assassinations spread. I waited eleven days and then sent Kaleb on a direct route to Vriidmont, and sure enough, he found you.”

“That’s hard to believe,” said Lia, doubtful. “All because of this book?”

“If that isn’t proof that you were chosen by the Divines, then I’m not sure what is,” Kaleb interjected. “But if you do need more evidence, look at the next line.”

Lia returned her attention to the book in front of her as Grerick explained, “The line that brought Kaleb to you is the final line that I can understand. Therefore, the next should be yours. Read it.”

She glanced across the table to Kaleb, who nodded his encouragement, and then reached out, placed her fingertips along the bottom edge of the page, and leaned in closer, staring at the line Grerick pointed to. The shapes seemed just as incomprehensible as the ones above and below it.

“I don’t understand them,” she said, almost hopeful.

“Give it time,” said Grerick.

And he was right. As she watched, the symbols began to rearrange and transform into a language she understood. She read the sentence aloud, transfixed. “At the first will stand the Noble of Sperath, pursued by those of wicked intent.” She looked to Grerick, stunned. “What is that? Is it my first clue?”

“It would appear so.” Grerick looked thoughtful. “Normally it wouldn’t be quite so blatant, but perhaps this isn’t what it seems…” He fell silent and seemed to retreat into his thoughts for a moment. Lia felt sick to her stomach. She’d watched the symbols change in front of her own eyes. That, at last, was something she could not explain away.

“Wait,” she spoke up at last. Both men fixed their gazes to her. “You can’t actually expect me to do this, can you? There must be someone else more fitting. Someone older and stronger.”

“By nature of being chosen, you are the most fitting,” said Grerick, whose tone indicated that he seemed to think she’d find his words comforting. “You must put your trust in both yourself and in the Divines. You will have help from the Keepers. For now, let’s focus on the text. I won’t let you leave here unprepared.”

Though her heart was pounding hard in her chest, Lia forced herself to take a deep breath and return to the book. There, the translated line remained, sticking out in the sea of strange symbols. She swallowed hard. “What does this even mean? I’m looking for a noble?”

“Yes, it would seem so,” Kaleb confirmed.

“But there are more than just a few nobles, given that every nation has its own set, doesn’t it?”

“But Sperath is a nation,” Kaleb interjected. “So we know that the first person you’re looking for is a Sperathian noble.”

“What about the ‘those of wicked intent’?” asked Lia. “Do you think those are the same people you mentioned before? Do they have some way of finding out that a noble is the first heir? Are they going to come after us if we try to find this noble?”

“They should have no knowledge of the first heir. At least not that we know of,” said Kaleb. “But it’s true that Sincaeles will do whatever they can to kill both you and the heirs in order to stop you from choosing the next emperor, if they do manage to learn your identities.”

“Tell me what you know about the Sperathian royal family,” said Grerick, speaking up at last.

Kaleb seemed surprised by the question. “Well… they’re one of the twelve families that will seek the Eveinian throne if a Seer doesn’t declare a new ruler, given that our best option for an emperor otherwise would be someone who is already a king or a queen. The Sperathian king and queen would probably have the best claim to it, as well.”

As he spoke, Lia looked back and forth between the two men, overwhelmed. Grerick turned to her and explained, “Sperath is the largest nation, and it’s one of the three that borders Vriidmont, where the emperor of Eveinia lives. And two of the three Seers in recent history have picked the Sperathian heir to become the new ruler. Which is why historically and geographically speaking, the Sperathian royal family have the greatest claim in the absence of a Seer.”

Kaleb turned sharply, eyebrows furrowing as he blinked at Grerick. “Wait, do you think one of them could be the first heir? The king or queen of Sperath?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

“If not them, then who?”

“They have a daughter. She comes of age in one month. And when she does—”

“—they’ll marry her off,” realized Kaleb, his eyes widening. “And they’ll invite suitors to court her. Suitors who know that if a Seer doesn’t show up with a new emperor soon, she’d have quite the claim to stake herself, as the future heir to Sperath’s throne. Wicked intent, indeed. Maybe Sincaeles isn’t who the Oracle is referring to.”

“Wait.” Lia straightened up hopefully, unsure that she’d understood them. “So then I don’t have to pick an heir after all? They’ll just choose someone from one of the twelve royal families to rule instead?”

“When that’s happened in the past, it has only been a temporary solution, much like how Levian’s wife, had she not passed away a decade ago, would have been a temporary ruler following her husband’s and son’s murders,” explained Grerick.

“But if their whole family is gone, then who has the throne now?” wondered Lia.

“No one,” said Kaleb, solemn. “Levian had advisors who will do their best to keep the kingdom afloat in the absence of a true leader, but their power is limited. And the longer the throne remains empty, the more people will begin to make suggestions about who should be the one to fill it.”

“Seers are rarely called, and they have never failed,” Grerick continued. “There is simply a variance in the amount of time it has taken them to succeed. But none had quite as much… opposition as we expect you’ll have.”

“And what happens if I do fail?” asked Lia, fearing the answer.

“Eveinia will descend into chaos,” said Kaleb. “The royal families and anyone else who feels that they should be the next emperor will do their best to stake a claim. It won’t matter that Sperath has a slightly more valid claim; nations will war over the right to have their chosen representative given the title, and armies will perish. That is why Seers are needed when there are no blood-heirs remaining. Your memories were taken away to help keep you neutral, and the Keepers have taken a blood oath to remain unbiased as well, so as not to influence your decision. And, most importantly, the leaders of the twelve nations will respect that decision.”

“So then,” began Lia, struggling to make sense of his explanation, “the people who would benefit most from the emperor’s death, and from my failure, are the people who might rule in the event that I don’t choose a new heir?”

“Precisely,” confirmed Grerick. “The emperor’s killer likely planned for a new Seer to be called, and hopes to stop you from choosing the next heir because they have their own ideas about who should rule.”

“But if nobles might also benefit, then how can we trust this girl or her family?” asked Lia. “How do we know that they weren’t involved in the murders in the first place? You said that the Sperathian nobles would have the greatest claim to the throne of all.”

“The girl’s not even eighteen yet, so it seems unlikely that she’d be directly involved,” Grerick explained. “But you’re correct in that it’s possible someone who wants to see her on the throne is our killer. She’s young, which makes her more easily manipulated.”

“I doubt her family was involved at all, but Sincaeles will have taken interest in them. If they can’t place one of their own on the throne, a puppet is the next best thing, and this girl would make an ideal puppet. Even if they weren’t who the Oracle spoke of, we’ll likely run into them there,” warned Kaleb. “Which means that we’ll need to lie low.”

“I’d suggest removing her from the situation as swiftly as you can, but that might put you in too much danger, and even if you escaped unscathed, we’d lose a chance to identify the people who are after you,” Grerick murmured. He scratched at his chin, perturbed, and then declared, “We’ll discuss how exactly you should go about this later. From now on, your focus should be on learning to defend yourself. You have one month to prepare; you should go at the time of her courtship, and that will give me time to reach my contact in Sperath’s capitol, where you’ll be headed.” He stood and turned to go, but Lia stopped him.

“Don’t I get a choice?” she wondered. “Maybe you believe that deep down some part of me wants to be the big hero and do the right thing. And maybe you’re right. But what if you’re not? You’ve admitted yourself that it’s dangerous, and I didn’t volunteer.”

“Give it a month,” said Grerick. “And if you still feel uncertain, we’ll speak about it again.” Again, he moved to leave, but Kaleb held up a hand to get his attention.

“Sir. I’d like to prepare supper tonight. I… invited a guest.” He seemed hesitant to finish his sentence, and when he did, Grerick shot him a look of disapproval. “It’s only Sasha.”

“I’ve told you to stay away from her, Kaleb. You trust far too easily.”

“I know. But it’s one meal, and then she’ll go. We’ll be careful.”

Grerick neither approved nor denied Kaleb’s request directly, and instead turned to Lia and murmured, “Keep your palm covered.” She nodded and he swept out of the study, muttering harshly under his breath.

When he was gone, she turned back to the book he’d left on the table, closed it, and ran her finger along the spine, before taking into her hands and vowing to look over it again in private later.

With Sasha’s arrival looming, Lia and Kaleb knew that their training session would have to be cut short. Still, they stepped outside in the early afternoon, a rapier in hand for each of them. As Kaleb set up their sparring area, Lia’s gaze was drawn to the stables just across a pasture of grass behind the mansion, which she saw housed two horses. One was slightly larger and nearly black in color, while the other was a light brown.

With Kaleb’s permission, she went to the stables and watched them. The larger horse shrank back when she reached out to it, but in the stall beside it, the brown horse came forward.

“Hello there,” she said, and rested her palm on its head. It moved closer still and nuzzled into her hand, and she stared, fascinated. She wondered if she’d ever worked with horses before, because she wasn’t the least bit afraid of them.

“That one’s Peony,” Kaleb told her when he joined her a few minutes later. He nodded toward the brown one, and then added, “The darker one is called Shadow.”

“Are you done preparing to beat me to a pulp?” Lia asked him, and then froze when his words caught up with her. “Peony! Wasn’t that the name you suggested for me? You wanted to name me after one of your horses?”

“It was the first name that came to mind,” Kaleb admitted, shrinking away from her as though he’d suddenly remembered how she’d nearly skewered him with a fire poker just a day ago. “I didn’t expect you to actually want it.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t,” she muttered. “So I take it you’re ready?”

“Yes. I’ll go easy on you today; don’t worry.” He turned to leave.

“Wait. Do you take care of them by yourself?” Lia nodded toward the horses.

“Yes, I do. Though maybe you could learn to help.”

“I’d like to.” She patted Peony on her head again. “This one seems friendly.”

“She likes you. That’s good. When it’s time for us to travel to Sperath, you’ll be riding her.”

“So I’ll need to learn to ride a horse?”

“Yes. I’ll teach you that as well.” She let him lead her back toward the house, where he’d used his shoe to draw a large, uneven circle in the dirt. He handed her one of the rapiers when they arrived. “We’ll start with these. Eventually, we’ll work our way up to larger swords, building your strength along the way. They’re heavier than they look.”

“Wouldn’t I be better suited to something else, then?” she asked. “Archery, or something long-distance? Something that doesn’t involve trying to kill someone bigger and stronger than me up close? Or preferably something non-fatal entirely. I could just… maybe shoot them in the shoulder before they can reach me.” She didn’t feel particularly comfortable with the idea of close combat, or really any form of combat at all. Though Grerick’s book had certainly proven to her that she was what they claimed she was, she still didn’t want to fight or kill anyone. More than anything, she wanted her memories and family back and to be utterly, boringly normal.

“I know this is scary,” said Kaleb, as though he’d read her mind. “I was scared, too; just a small child when Grerick caught me stealing fruit, took me in, and told me that I was going to learn to fight. I wanted to find my family, too. But if you’re going to have any chance of going back to the life you had, you have to get through this first. That’s what I’m here to help you do.”

“What if I never remember them?” she wondered. “What if this is the only life left for me?”

“Grerick believes that that’s part of why the Divines take your memories,” Kaleb admitted. “As we said, the first reason is to help you remain impartial, so that you remain a vessel for their will and their will alone when you make the final decision of who will rule. But the second reason is that if you had a life to go back to, perhaps you wouldn’t use your time doing something so difficult. The temptation to ignore your duties would be too great.”

“Your gods planned for that, huh?” she asked, eyeing the rapier in her hand bitterly.

“They’re your gods, too, as long as you believe in them.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “You do, don’t you?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“How can you not, with what you’ve already seen?”

“Because it’s hard to believe in anything that would take my whole life away from me,” said Lia curtly. “Something’s certainly responsible, but whatever it is, it’s nothing I want to worship. Now let’s get this over with.”

Kaleb seemed to take issue with what she’d said, but let it go for the time being. What followed were several hours of very dull, clinical instruction and very little actual fighting, and Lia almost preferred it that way. While ten minutes of “hold the rapier at this angle” was incredibly tedious, it also meant she didn’t have to actually fight Kaleb, and she was thankful for that. Still, Kaleb seemed to quickly grow frustrated with her half-hearted attempts to follow his instructions.

“Swing at my neck, the way I showed you,” he ordered her toward the end of their session. She stepped in with one foot, like he’d taught her, and then gave a feeble swing of the rapier, at which point he blocked it effortlessly and sighed at her. “You have to actually try to hit me, or I can’t show you how to block an attack,” he said.

“Well, I’m tired,” she argued, “and as I said, I’m better suited to something like archery. Maybe you could teach me to throw knives?”

“If you want to learn to throw knives or shoot arrows, do it on your own time,” said Kaleb. “Now swing at me again.”

She bit back a retort and stepped away from him to reset, and they went through the motions again, all the way up until she gave the rapier another swing, without much more effort. Kaleb blocked it easily, and wordlessly motioned for her to reset.

“Again?” she asked, exasperated.

“We’re doing something different this time,” was all Kaleb said. “Swing at me again.”

And so she did. But this time, he deflected her weak swing with a much stronger swing of his own rapier, jarring her arm and sending the rapier flying from her hand. “Ow!” she exclaimed, and then cried out again when he prodded her hard in the midsection with the blunted end of his rapier, sending her sprawling backward onto the ground as she clutched at her stomach.

She took a moment to catch her breath, then sat up and shot him a venomous look. He stood just a few feet away, calmly twirling the rapier in his hands. “Was that necessary?” she asked, and he raised a finger to his lips, motioning for her to be silent.

“Hush. You’re dead now. You were cornered by Sincaeles, you swung at one of them like a newborn babe, you got your sword knocked out of your hands, and now you’re bleeding out from a stab wound to the stomach.” She set her jaw and continued to glare, frustrated with his dramatics, but didn’t speak. Kaleb moved to sit across from her. “Unfortunately, you were killed before you could meet with the Divines, so they never communicated their decision, and a new heir was never chosen. Maybe you found all twelve heirs, or maybe you found just one, but it doesn’t matter. You’re dead. Which means that all the rats are coming out of the woodwork to stake their claim to the throne. And none of them want it for the right reasons.”

“And you think twelve people listed in some old book would be any better?” she asked.

“Those twelve people were chosen for their merits by the Divines. Could you say the same for the King of Escall, who established a one-child-only policy to prevent overpopulation and instead overcrowded every orphanage in the nation? Or how about the Queen of Muthwole, who has a civil war going on right under her nose and has chosen to ignore it? Or the King of Astaru, who is rumored to take bribes in exchange for turning a blind eye to the regular raids on his trade ships? Because those are a few of the people looking to take Levian’s place. And with murderers like Sincaeles sure to try to worm their way into power, as well, either by force or through pre-selected puppets, those three rulers I mentioned are some of the best options.”

“But if Sincaeles was willing to murder an emperor, they clearly have someone in mind that they believe could do a better job,” Lia pointed out. “Of course I think that what they did was horrible, but I do understand why they don’t trust the Seers. Maybe they just want a ruler that doesn’t sit around claiming that their bloodline has been chosen by a greater power.”

Kaleb shook his head. “They seek to rule out of self-interest, and simply hide behind the assertion that one person shouldn’t have the power to choose the emperor. You don’t remember Levian. He may not have been chosen by a Seer like his grandmother, but he had her blood in his veins, and he was a visionary. He spent twenty years on the throne and had many more left in him, and his son Cedric would have been a perfect successor. They both took a public vow to try to put a stop to the problems of each individual nation during their rule as emperor.”

“If he had twenty years to change Eveinia, why haven’t all of these problems been solved, as he promised?” wondered Lia.

“Levian was only one man. Though he had advisors, undoing centuries of turmoil was a tall order given his many responsibilities. He needed more time, and instead that time was taken from him. Don’t think Sincaeles would do a better job than one of the twelve heirs; they killed a man Eveinia needed. And believe me, you don’t want an emperor who doesn’t have everyone’s best interests at heart.”

“Has there been one like that before?” Lia asked.

Kaleb glanced toward the house, thoughtful. “Yes. But Grerick knows a lot more about him than I do. Perhaps we should have him tell you.”

Later, Lia and Kaleb found Grerick alone in his study. He sat at one of the armchairs, a thick book open in his lap, which he read using a small magnifying glass. Their arrival seemed to give him pause, and when he looked up, Lia could see him scowling slightly.

“Has she made any progress?” he asked Kaleb, which served to make Lia’s budding discomfort grow even further.

“A little. But she certainly wasn’t a fighter in her past life,” said Kaleb. “She asked about some of Eveinia’s worst rulers. I thought you might tell her about Drigas.” Kaleb’s tone was stiff, suddenly, as he added, “She lacks an understanding of the importance of having a divinely-chosen emperor.”

This seemed to intrigue Grerick, and he closed his book and shifted his gaze to Lia, waving her forward. “Take a seat,” he ordered, though he did not sound unkind.

Kaleb nodded his thanks from the doorway. “I’ll get started on supper. I need to have something prepared to eat before Sasha comes, and it’s nearly suppertime.”

He slipped out of the study and shut the door quietly behind him, and Lia didn’t miss the sigh Grerick let out as he watched the door close.

“That girl he’s smitten with will get him into trouble one day,” he murmured.

“You seem to discourage forming bonds with people,” Lia noticed. “Doesn’t it bother you that what you’re asking him to do isn’t fair to him?”

“One of the first lessons I learned as a Seer is that sometimes we’re meant to defy our own nature in order to make the right decisions,” said Grerick. As Lia took a seat in the chair beside him, he learned in toward her and continued, “If there is one piece of advice you retain from your time with me, let it be this: if ever you find yourself facing a choice between your head and your heart, your head must always win out.”

“That sounds like a very easy way to make yourself lonely,” said Lia. Grerick smiled gently at her, amused, but did not reply. Instead, he turned away from her to set aside his book, and then folded his hands in his lap. “Drigas was the man who ruled before I was called as the next Seer. He, therefore, was my Levian.”

“Except he wasn’t murdered,” guessed Lia.

“He slipped away in his sleep just shy of sixty years on the throne,” said Grerick. “And I knew him personally before I became the Seer.”

Lia sat back in her seat, confused. “But didn’t you lose your memories?”

“Yes. I’ve been able to recall bits and pieces in the years since, as will you, though it’s important to note that you must be prepared to face who you used to be. It may not be anything like the person you’ve become.” He shared a somber look with her, and she swallowed a lump in her throat at the reminder.

Grerick continued after a moment. “For the most part, I remember very little about my own experiences with Drigas. I know that I was hired as a stable boy in Vriidmont at a young age, and that he developed a fondness for me not unlike that of a father for a son. He never married and had no children of his own, which was why his death invoked the calling of a Seer: myself. But that isn’t why I’m speaking of Drigas. What is relevant here is what he did with his power as emperor.”

“Wait a moment. I’m confused,” interjected Lia. “Kaleb said he was a terrible ruler, but he must have been descended from someone chosen by the Divines through a previous Seer, correct?”

“Correct,” confirmed Grerick.

“So then if you truly believe that the Divines choose the best person for the position, then it wouldn’t make sense for them to choose a lineage that would eventually result in Drigas’s rule, would it? They are, by your logic, all-knowing. I have a book in my quarters that supposedly proves that they have knowledge of the past, present, and future.”

“Well, what you need to know first is that the emperor’s firstborn will always inherit the throne, provided that the firstborn doesn’t perish before his time to rule comes.”

“And how do you know for certain who that is? The emperor’s own testimony?” wondered Lia, and then added, with slight sarcasm, “Do they get some sort of special mark as well?”

“The Divines have ensured that there is a way to tell,” confirmed Grerick, though he did not elaborate. “However, there is one exception to the firstborn rule: a person who ends the life of an emperor cannot take his place.”

“So if a firstborn kills his father, it will skip him as punishment,” clarified Lia. “And then a Seer will be called?”

“Yes, if no more direct descendants remain.”

“So then the second child would be next in line, if one existed,” Lia realized.

“Yes. And Drigas knew this. Not only was he never meant to rule, as he was his father’s second child… but he was also responsible for the deaths of both his father and older brother.”

Lia was confused. “But you just said that the emperor’s killer can’t become the next emperor. Wouldn’t it have gone to a third child, or resulted in a Seer being called if no third child existed?”

“Yes, you’re correct.”

“So then how did he become the emperor if he broke the rules?”

“Well, he simply had someone else kill them for him. This left him free to assume the throne. A murderer and a second-eldest child: someone who was never meant to rule. And he spent the next sixty years sending Eveinia spiraling into turmoil. Every problem in every nation today can, in some capacity, be traced back to Drigas’s selfishness and unwillingness to be anything but a dictator to his people.”

“So why do you think his ancestor was chosen to rule, then?”

“Perhaps to set the stage for the events that have followed his tyranny,” suggested Grerick. “Perhaps he was allowed to rule so that you and I could sit here together, right at this very moment, learning from his mistakes and discussing exactly what kind of ruler Eveinia doesn’t need. I know that what I learned of Drigas after his death certainly influenced my choice.”

“I thought that the Divines chose the next emperor. They just speak through us,” said Lia, trying to keep her frustration from her tone. “Now it was your choice?”

“It’s difficult to put into words,” said Grerick. “I knew even as I chose that the words weren’t entirely my own, though I felt as though they came from me. There was a sense that something greater than myself had placed the name into my head, and it was only that name which I felt at peace with choosing. I believe they used my experiences to guide me to her, just as they will guide you to one of your twelve. There is a plan in place greater than ourselves.”

Lia stared at him for a moment, perturbed. “I think I prefer my autonomy.”

“That comes after,” said Grerick, “when you find yourself in the center of a dozen beautiful paintings and can only afford to purchase one of them.”

He rose, then, to carry the large book back to its shelf, and for a moment, Lia thought she saw a hint of a smile on his lips.

Kaleb, in between cooking their meal for the night, managed to take a minute to show a thoroughly grateful Lia to the bathing area near the house’s back door. It wasn’t until she was sure he was back inside that she moved to disrobe behind the curtain he’d placed there and cleaned the dirt from herself.

By the time she’d donned Sasha’s old clothing and arrived back inside, Kaleb had returned to the kitchen and was working over a countertop. “Need any help?” she asked him, and he looked up at the sound of her voice, then smiled at her.

“You look much better.”

“Thank you,” she replied, joining him and looking down at what he’d been preparing. “Meat and potatoes, then.” Her stomach growled at the sight.

“Seems as though that suits you just fine,” Kaleb joked. “Watch the door for Sasha?”

“Sure. What’s Grerick going to be doing while we’re having supper?”

“I’m not sure. He’ll probably retire to bed soon. He’s hiding it well, but his old age has taken a toll on him in the past few years. He’s still strong enough to protect you, but the sooner we can teach you to protect yourself, the better.”

Lia wasn’t convinced. “If I’m truly in as much danger as you say, don’t you think that something would have happened to me by now?” she asked. “I’ve been here a day and I’ve been out into the city. If everyone’s watching for me to show up, you’d think someone would’ve come breaking down the door already.”

“It’s Grerick that’s helped prevent that,” Kaleb reminded her. “After he chose the next ruler all those years ago, he relocated and started over. He kept his true identity quiet. Meanwhile, he helped keep the network of Keepers alive and in contact. He’s worked tirelessly to make sure that the next Seer would be kept safe and would have people ready to help all over Eveinia. He even used the Oracle to find you before anyone else could. Your job would be impossible without his preparation, but that’s almost irrelevant given that you’d also probably already be dead.”

“You really believe that? That I wouldn’t have lasted a day?”

“I’m just glad we never had to find out.” He offered her a smile. “Now if anyone tries to harm you, you have me. I won’t let anyone lay a hand on you. But, for now… watch the door?”

She heaved a sigh and his smile grew larger, into a grin, as she turned to leave. “Yes, alright. Don’t char the meat.”

Their supper table sat four, and as the meal wore on, Lia found herself wishing Grerick had elected to join them. Kaleb and Sasha were entirely enamored with one another, and as she watched them interact, she couldn’t help but slip into thoughts of her own romantic history. There was something about the dynamic between Kaleb and Sasha that felt off to her.

Perhaps it was that what they represented was something simple. Were it not for Kaleb’s duty to Grerick and Lia, she had no doubt he’d go about courting Sasha like any other man. They’d be married with children within the year.

Even without the quest ahead of her, Lia sensed she had never been and would never be the type of person to settle down with a man and start a family. Despite the dangers Kaleb claimed awaited them, the one thing that excited her about her new task was that she’d be able to travel. To see every bit of Eveinia that she could. She wondered if this was because she could no longer remember the world she’d grown up in, or if her curiosity had existed even before she’d lost her memories. But she was eager to find out.

“Fetch another bottle of wine, Kaleb?” Sasha suggested halfway through their meal, a giggly tone to her voice. Kaleb nodded through a grin and left for the kitchen, his walk a little off-kilter, and Lia laughed as she watched him go. Sasha shook her head as she turned to Lia.

“I should’ve guessed he’d be a lightweight. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve hardly had anything,” said Lia. “I don’t think I like wine.”

“It’s an acquired taste,” insisted Sasha. “You should have more. But that’s actually not what I meant. How are you feeling about staying here?”

“Oh. Well, Kaleb and Grerick have been very accommodating.” She shifted uncomfortably and then realized that her right palm was visible; it’d been turned halfway toward Sasha as she’d used her fork. She quickly corrected it and then added, “It’s much better than having no home at all, of course.”

Sasha didn’t seem to notice her hand, and held Lia’s gaze as she nodded her understanding. “You’re very lucky not to have suffered worse. And I see that both you and Kaleb have cleaned up. You look lovely, really.”

“Thank you.” She felt a flush crawl up her cheeks and quickly looked away. “And thank you again for the clothes.”

“You’re welcome.” Sasha sat up in her seat, suddenly taking an interest in something behind Lia. “So, I’ve only been here once before. The artwork here is exquisite. Have Kaleb or Grerick told you much about that piece yet?”

Confused, Lia twisted around to see that Sasha’d been referring to a small painting hanging on the wall just above her head. It was a garden scene, with differently colored flowers and a river in the foreground. “Oh, no,” she said, and stared for a moment longer before she turned around to face Sasha again. “I’ve never asked.”

“It’s beautiful,” said Sasha. “Shame Grerick went to bed early. I’ve never gotten the chance to ask him myself. Kaleb says he doesn’t take well to visitors.”

Kaleb returned with an open bottle of wine a moment later and filled each of their glasses again. When he’d retaken his seat, Sasha reached for her glass and raised it. Kaleb echoed the action, and Lia took a moment before she realized she was meant to join them.

Sasha smiled and clinked her glass first against Kaleb’s, and then Lia’s. “To a new beginning,” she declared, and drank. Kaleb, who seemed to be too intoxicated to question the toast, followed suit, and so Lia braced herself and took a few sips from her own glass, struggling to keep her face straight in the process. Inwardly, an unpleasant chill ran down her spine and she had to stifle a shudder at the bitter taste.

They each set their glasses down and Kaleb dove back into his meal. Sasha abandoned her utensils and laced her fingers together on top of the table, watching Lia curiously. “You’re very well-mannered for someone Kaleb found living on the streets,” she noticed.

Lia’s mind raced for an explanation. “Oh. Well, perhaps that’s because I grew up with a family.”

“What happened to them?”

“I’m not sure. I intend to find out,” she said, and Kaleb smiled delightedly at her side, as though the truth of her statement amused him. Her head spun suddenly and her hand shot up to press to its side. “Oh,” she murmured, and Sasha laughed.

“Have you finally drank enough to feel the wine?” she asked. “It’s about time.”

Lia blinked hard, and her eyebrows furrowed with worry. “I don’t know. I can’t…” She blinked again but could not rid herself of her blurry vision. Something was wrong. “I’m not sure.”

Beside her, Kaleb suddenly collapsed face-first onto the table, but Sasha’s arms shot forward and she caught him before he could hit his plate. When he sank forward, it was with her hands guiding him, and she helped lower his head gently and quietly until his cheek was pressed to his plate. Lia tried to turn to look at him and her head spun again, though through her fuzzy vision, she managed to see that his eyes were closed. He was unconscious.

“What’s happening?” she tried to ask Sasha, but her speech was slurred, and the words echoed and bounced around in her head, sending a shooting pain through her temples. She tried to keep her eyes open, but sensed she was quickly slouching forward the way Kaleb had, and then Sasha’s hands were soft and cold at her cheeks. Her vision went dark.

3

The man carrying her did not struggle under her weight. She could hear leaves crunching under more than one set of feet as she stirred, and then the memory of the supper with Sasha and Kaleb came rushing back to her and she immediately tensed. She tried to wrench herself from the hands gripping her sides, but they held tight and then pulled her closer, pinning her arms between her body and the hard chest of the man holding her.

When he spoke, it sounded as though it was through gritted teeth. “Well, she’s awake.”

“Put her down,” came a familiar voice. It belonged to a woman. Sasha.

The arms holding her suddenly vanished and she was dropped harshly onto the ground, where she landed flat on her back. The impact knocked the wind out of her, and she lay still for several seconds, gasping for air. Darkness had fallen, and so her vision was limited, but she could tell she’d been taken into some sort of secluded wooded area. They were probably on the outskirts of Lemn.

She saw movement above her and then the outline of two dark shapes looming over her. “Why don’t we just kill her now?” asked the man. “We’d be heroes.”

“That wasn’t the deal,” argued Sasha. “Raus wants to see her himself. He’ll need to make sure that we’ve gotten it right.”

“This is right,” the man insisted. “We’ve both seen the mark on her palm. She’s the one.”

“And what if the old man is using her as a decoy? What if he’s hidden the real one and the mark is a fake?” Sasha asked. The man had no response. “We take her to Raus. Let him decide if she’s the real thing.”

Lia sucked in another breath and found it came easier. As Sasha and the man continued muttering to each other above her, she slid her right hand out to the side gingerly, searching for something to defend herself with. She tried to remember her short training session with Kaleb, and suddenly wished she’d paid closer attention.

Her fingertips brushed against a small stick and she snatched at it, swinging her arm upward as hard as she could and catching the man in the calf. The stick broke against his leg. He let out a small grunt of pain as she scrambled backward, but recovered quickly and stepped forward, kicking out at her. His foot connected with her leg just above her knee.

A shooting pain burst forth from her thigh and she cried out, rolling onto her side and clutching at the spot where his kick had landed. The broken stick lay abandoned at her side.

“Stupid girl,” he snarled, starting forward again, but Sasha threw an arm out in front of him to keep him still.

“She hit you with a stick the size of your thumb. If that makes you angry enough to beat her to death, Raus put his trust in the wrong man.”

“I was just going to scare her,” he muttered, but let Sasha press him backward with a hand to his chest.

“She seems scared enough to me. Get her up.”

The man grabbed at Lia’s shoulder and forced her into a sitting position, and Sasha moved to kneel behind her. A moment later, she felt her hands being bound with rope.

“Kaleb will find you,” Lia muttered.

“Kaleb’s likely still unconscious,” Sasha replied. “And so oblivious anyway that it’ll undoubtedly take him another day to realize we haven’t just taken a friendly walk together.”

“You’re vile,” Lia breathed out, disgusted. She felt bile rise in her throat as the true nature of her predicament finally sank in, and had to struggle to keep it down even as her leg continued to throb. If she didn’t get away from them soon, she was going to die.

The most devastating consequence of her death in the minds of Kaleb and Grerick was that Eveinia would lack for a proper ruler, she knew, but Lia found herself thinking of her family instead. They were likely wondering where she’d gone and if she was safe. She’d never find out who they were, let alone ever see them again.

“I didn’t plan for this to happen,” Sasha explained as she finished with the rope. She helped Lia get to her feet and continued, “Nor did I wish for it. I received an assignment. We thought the old Seer was a longshot, but we knew you’d show up somewhere. I expected I’d just have to wait to hear that you’d been captured elsewhere, tell Kaleb I needed to relocate and that I’d always have a special place in my heart for him, and then take my leave. Then you showed up and made my job harder.”

“But worth the extra effort,” the man chimed in with a sneer.

“I don’t believe I asked you,” snapped Sasha. Her grip tightened on Lia’s wrists and she forced the younger girl forward with a rough push. “Start moving.”

“That’ll be a little hard with an injured leg,” Lia spat out, trying her best to be difficult. She knew she wasn’t strong enough to defend herself, or fast enough to escape on foot with an injury, but the one thing she did still have was the ability to stall them. She could only hope that Kaleb was on his way and had found some method of tracking her. “Thank your friend for that one.”

“Don’t worry; I will. Later.” Another shove nearly sent her to her knees, and so she gave a dramatic cry and let her momentum take her forward onto the ground. The impact was hard on her already weakened leg, but Sasha’s frustrated groan made it worthwhile. “Very well. You’re carrying her. Bind her feet, too.”

“Fine.”

“Wait a minute,” Lia tried, and much to Sasha’s frustration, her companion paused at Lia’s feet and fixed her with an impatient glare. “You don’t have to do this. I promise I won’t get in your way. I don’t even want to be the Seer. I just want to go home.”

“Tough,” he snarled, and reached for her legs again.

“I know my parents are probably worried sick about me,” she added, growing desperate. “I just want to find them and go back to my normal life, so if you’d just—”

Sasha let out a laugh and held up a hand, both to silence her and to stop the man at her feet. “Wait, are you telling me that they expect you to do their bidding, but they haven’t even been honest with you about how being a Seer works?”

“What do you mean?” Lia muttered. Sasha leaned down to smirk at her.

“Honey. Your parents have no idea who you are. Nobody does. That memory loss goes both ways. You’re a stone taken from the ocean: the water just reforms around it and fills in all the new cracks and empty space. Things you did, things you made people feel… they’ll all be attributed to someone or something else. As far as the world is concerned, you never existed. And even though you might get a few memories back over what little time you have left, the people who’ve forgotten you don’t get the same luxury. You’re going to stay forgotten.”

“You’re lying,” Lia shot back, but another laugh from Sasha told her that she must’ve sounded just as uncertain as she felt.

“Ask anyone; it’s common knowledge. Everyone in Eveinia knows how the memory loss works, so it was only a matter of time before you discovered the truth. It really makes you wonder what else your new friends are going to such great lengths to hide from you, doesn’t it?” asked Sasha, and then motioned for her companion to continue.

Lia fell silent as he moved to tie her ankles together, but her mind raced, searching for any means of escape, and her eyes, now well-adjusted to the darkness, darted back and forth around them, hunting for a clear path to take were she to get a chance to run. It seemed hopeless, but she had to try.

She felt the rope slip around the ankle of her weaker leg and immediately yanked her free leg back, then brought it forward and slammed it into the man’s face. Without shoes on, it didn’t do as much damage as she’d hoped, but the man yelped in pain and fell backwards, caught off-guard.

She tried to get up, but Sasha seized her hair and yanked her sideways, dragging her several feet across the ground. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she cried out, sticks and rocks on the ground scraping painfully along her arms and lower body. She lay still again when Sasha released her, trying to quell the sound of her own crying.

She thought of the warnings Kaleb and Grerick had given her and felt incredibly stupid. Of course Kaleb had been blind to Sasha’s real reason for getting to know him. And then Lia’d been too naive and too reckless, both by trusting the first new person she’d met and then by refusing to take Kaleb’s training seriously.

She shook her head slightly, confused now. Kaleb had been fooled, and so had she. But Grerick? Why, as careful as he seemed to be, had he let Sasha slip through the cracks?

“Get up,” she heard Sasha demand of the man. Lia lay still and listened to the crunch of footsteps as Sasha moved away from her. She wanted to try to stand again, but her earlier landing had left a deep, worsening ache in her leg, and she feared she’d be too slow.

A soft, strange thunking sound reached her ears, followed by more leaves crunching. She heard Sasha mutter, “What the—?” and Sasha’s companion, halfway-standing as he clutched at his face, suddenly crumpled to the ground several yards away from them.

And then a new figure burst from the trees and swung out at Sasha with a long, thin object. She went down on her back with a pained grunt just a few yards from Lia, and seemed to struggle to breathe, as though she too had had the wind knocked out of her.

The figure bore down on her quickly, straddling her, and Lia watched, wide-eyed, as Grerick took his wooden cane in both hands and pressed it down onto Sasha’s neck. Lia turned away swiftly, pressing her hands to her ears and squeezing her eyes shut when she realized what was about to happen. For a long moment, she sat there, completely still, hearing and seeing nothing. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder, and she jerked away, startled.

It was Grerick, back to using the cane to help himself walk. She shrank away from him when he offered her his free hand. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke, and she felt as though each of her emotions had been individually drained from her body, leaving her empty. “Please don’t touch me.”

“They would have had you killed. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I know.” She wiped at her eyes and then sat up slowly, ignoring his hand. “I can do it myself.”

“I didn’t mean for you to be injured,” he added gravely, letting his hand fall to his side. He stepped away from her once he’d confirmed that she could walk on her own, and she watched him move to the man on the ground and pull something from his chest. When he stood, she saw that it was a bloody knife and felt like retching. “I followed them from Lemn. It seems she put something into your drinks during your meal.”

“You were here the whole time?” she breathed out, incredulous. “While I was fighting—?”

“I wanted to see how you would hold up on your own,” he admitted. “I would’ve stepped in had they tried to harm you any further. And had I stopped them before they left Lemn, we wouldn’t know what we know now.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” she spat out.

“Two things. That they were meant to bring you to a man named Raus. And that, it seems, you were not a fighter before you lost your memories.”

“Kaleb already told you that,” muttered Lia. Her leg throbbed suddenly and she winced. “Can we please leave?”

“Yes.” Grerick’s face bore a deep frown. “Kaleb was still unconscious when I left. When we return, you should let him help clean you up and then try to sleep, as hard as it’ll be. Let me explain to him what happened here tonight. We’ll finish examining your leg tomorrow.”

“Kaleb will be distraught,” Lia realized.

“This was a valuable lesson. I’m not happy it was one he had to learn, but I doubt Kaleb will trust so easily again. It was good that he learned it while I was still around to rectify his mistakes.”

Lia looked past him to where Sasha and the man lay still on the ground, and turned sharply so that they were no longer in sight.

“Is what she said true?” she asked abruptly. “About no one remembering me?”

Grerick watched her, his expression solemn, and did not immediately reply. That was an answer in itself, and Lia let out a sharp exhale, feeling tears pooling in her eyes again. She grit her teeth and willed them away, gaze still fixed on Grerick.

At last, looking truly apologetic for the first time since she’d met him, he said, “I wanted you to have hope.”

“So this is it for me,” she realized. “This is all I have left of my life. A single cause that I didn’t even choose.”

“It’s a noble one,” murmured Grerick.

“I never asked to be noble. I would think you of all people should understand.”

The words hung in the air for a moment as she stared him down, and, at last, Grerick broke eye contact with her.

“Come,” he said. “It will take us some time to get back to Lemn.” He limped past her, back in the direction they’d come, and she glared at his back and fell into step behind him, nursing a slight limp herself as she followed.

As Grerick’s house came into view up ahead through the trees, Lia grudgingly asked him, “So what will you do with the two of them? We can’t just leave them there for anyone to find.”

“I have an arrangement with the head of Lemn’s small guard force. Let me deal with it. I can assure you that no one will ask questions.”

“You seem to have an arrangement with everyone,” muttered Lia.

“I’ve had sixty years to use my reputation to my advantage,” said Grerick. “I make sure that the people who shouldn’t know who I am don’t, and that the people who do are willing to help me.”

“What about Sasha and her friend?” asked Lia. “You didn’t fool them.”

“I didn’t need to. Sincaeles is aware of my identity. If she wasn’t a spy for them, then she would have remained unaware, and if she was, then… well, that’s no mystery, now that we’ve seen it play out.”

“You’re overconfident,” said Lia. “They could have killed me while you watched from a distance.”

“They wouldn’t, and they didn’t.” Grerick stopped by the back door and then pushed it open, only to find a panicked Kaleb rushing toward it on the other side.

“Lia!” he cried out, backing away hastily to give them space to enter. “You’re alright! Where’s Sasha?” His eyes widened as he took in her disheveled appearance. “What happened?”

“Her leg has been injured,” Grerick told him. “Examine her wound and come to me with your questions. Ask her nothing. I’ll be waiting in the study.”

If Kaleb was surprised by the order, he did a good job of keeping his composure. “Oh. Yes, sir.”

Lia’s gaze remained on Grerick as he calmly limped toward the study. It was as though, to him, the past two hours had simply never occurred.

“Are you okay?” Kaleb asked her, and she watched Grerick disappear around the corner before she answered. She looked to Kaleb to see that he’d stretched a hand out toward her in an offer to help her walk.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, and made her way to the table on her own. The food and wine glasses were just as they’d left them. “It’s probably just bruised. Finding out that my own parents don’t know who I am anymore hurt worse than a kick to the leg could.”

Kaleb froze for a moment, at a loss for words, but she motioned for him to join her at the table. Hesitantly, he obeyed. “We should look at it anyway,” he told her quietly. “Where does it hurt?”

“My thigh.” She rolled up her trousers until the side of her thigh was visible, and winced when she saw the skin there had begun to mottle red. “It looks worse than it is,” she insisted anyway.

“I’m sorry,” said Kaleb, and when she looked up at him, confused, he elaborated, “For hiding the truth from you and for not protecting you.”

“You tried to warn me about learning to defend myself,” replied Lia. “I should’ve taken you seriously.”

“And I still should have been able to protect you,” he repeated. “And I’m sorry that I couldn’t.” He touched her bruised skin and then yanked his hand back when she sucked in a sharp breath. “Sorry,” he said again. He sat back in his seat, teeth clenched and jaw tensed, and then admitted, “I’d only been awake for a few minutes before you got back. I was about to leave to go look for you myself, though with Grerick gone, I assumed he was already taking care of it.”

“You assumed right,” she told him, though she sensed the confirmation was unnecessary. He nodded shortly, and then seemed to struggle for words for a moment.

“Was it Sasha?” he asked at last. “Did she do this?”

“Grerick said—”

“I know what he said, but I’m asking you anyway. You can tell me the truth.” Kaleb stared hard at her, daring her to look away. “Did she slip something into our drinks and then take you?”

She could see it in his face that he already knew the answer, and so she nodded once and told him, “Yes.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Kaleb showed no emotion, and instead simply stood and helped her to her feet. “You should get some rest. We’ll resume your training tomorrow.”

“With my leg like this?”

“We’ll avoid putting too much strain on it. You want to learn to defend yourself, don’t you?” The question sounded like a challenge.

“Of course,” she insisted. The encounter in the woods had been more than enough to convince her. “Of course I do.”

“Then we get back to it tomorrow.” He led her to her room and sat her down on her bed, then watched her carefully shift her legs so that she could lay down. “Will you be alright here?”

“I think so.”

“I’ll check on you every few hours,” Kaleb promised. “To make sure you sleep… and that you stay in here this time.” He tried for a smile, but it was weak and very obviously forced.

“When will you sleep?” she wondered aloud as he walked to the doorway and seized the doorknob.

He turned back to her and then lowered his gaze to the ground. “I don’t expect I will.” The door closed behind him.

Lia awoke the next morning to find that the majority of her small cuts and bruises were hardly noticeable, and that the aching in her leg was manageable, even when she walked. Kaleb’s training wouldn’t be easy to continue, but it wouldn’t be impossible, either.

They ate breakfast together in subdued silence. Lia was afraid to speak, for fear of accidentally upsetting Kaleb. She was curious as to what Grerick had shared with him about the previous night, but he offered no information, and so she didn’t request any.

“Where’s Grerick?” she did eventually manage to gather the courage to ask.

“He’s taking a trip to Sasha’s today to see if he can find any information about Raus, her boss,” said Kaleb shortly. “And then he’s going into the woods.”

His tone told her it was best if she didn’t continue to bring the topic up, and so she kept quiet for the duration of their breakfast, and then let him guide her through her second training session once they’d finished eating.

They practiced in the yard by the stables together once again, but this time they used long sticks not unlike Grerick’s cane. Kaleb gave his a test swing from his spot opposite her, and Lia had to concentrate hard to avoid thinking about the way she’d seen Grerick use his cane the night before. The image of Grerick pressing it to Sasha’s neck as he straddled her replayed in her mind and she had to take a step back from Kaleb, who pretended not to notice the change in her demeanor.

“When your opponent has a weapon, it doesn’t matter how strong of a fighter you are; you can’t leave yourself open to an attack,” he told her. “If I were a real enemy, I’d have taken advantage of your being distracted and your head would be gone.”

She paused to arch an eyebrow at him, as though to ask, “Must you?”, but his expression remained stoic.

“If you die, Eveinia is at the mercy of Sincaeles.”

“I get it,” she shot back. “Believe me. I’ve heard it enough. Just tell me what I’m meant to do.”

“Defend yourself,” he replied. “Let’s see how you manage against me when you actually make an effort.”

He stepped forward and jabbed the stick toward her, and she darted back and batted it away with her own, ignoring the slight throb in her thigh. Kaleb came forward again, this time with an arced swing at her hip, and she swung hard in the opposite direction, knocking it away again. The collision made her arms ache, and she grimaced. Kaleb seemed unaffected.

“You better get used to that feeling,” he warned. “It’ll be even worse with swords.”

“And what if I’m still not meant to use a sword?” she pointed out once again. “Grerick can throw knives.”

“Grerick’s an old man who happens to be stronger than he looks, but that strength isn’t something he can count on anymore. You, however, will want to use your strength to your advantage. This isn’t just about learning to fight with a sword; this is about building strength. You want to learn how to throw knives? Knock me down with that stick first.”

She grit her teeth and bit back a snappy retort, then swung her stick at his side. He parried it easily and whacked her on the thigh, right where her bruise was, sending her sprawling out on the grass with a sharp cry. She heard him curse right before he dropped his stick and hurried over to her. “So now you’re going to be an ass and give me some big explanation about how my enemies will exploit my weaknesses?” she guessed, glaring up at him.

“Not this time,” he said, grimacing. “Sorry, I completely forgot. I wouldn’t do that to you on the second day.”

“Well, I’m sorry too,” she replied, and then, when he looked appropriately confused, she snatched up her stick and swung it hard at his ankles, sweeping them out from under his feet and sending him to the ground right beside her. He lay still for a moment, groaning.

“That was a bit much,” he mumbled when he’d recovered enough to sit up.

“Don’t let your guard down,” replied Lia, getting to her feet. She leaned over and offered him her hand, and he stared for a moment, skeptical, before accepting her help and standing himself.

“Believe me,” he said. “I won’t. Ever again.” He turned his back to her to go retrieve his stick, and she frowned at him, worried.

“Kaleb, I know it’d be naïve of me to tell you not to let it get to you, so I won’t. But it’ll be okay. What happened last night wasn’t your fault.”

“It was,” he replied shortly, adjusting his grip on his stick once he’d plucked it from the ground. He looked disgusted with himself. “But it won’t happen again.” He struck a defensive stance and waited. “Now take your best shot at me.”

“Kaleb,” she warned, but he waved his hand in a motion that told her he no longer wanted to speak. She sighed and clutched the stick in her hand tighter, struggling to find a grip she was comfortable with. At last, she readied herself and stepped closer to him, then half-heartedly took a stab at his stomach. He swung hard and knocked the stick from her hands, sending it flying several feet and then skidding across the grass. She shook out her hands as he let out a disappointed sigh. “I won’t be able to hit you in a fair fight.”

“It’s early,” he reminded her. “You’ll get better.”

They continued to spar well into the day, until Lia’s hands were covered in blisters and her arms and body ached, both from using the muscles in them and from taking hits from Kaleb, who pulled very few punches.

By the afternoon, she strongly suspected she’d been used to relieve Kaleb’s frustration from the previous night. She elected not to complain; she couldn’t imagine being in his position and she didn’t wish to try. He’d been close with Sasha for at least several months, she knew. And while Lia was still hurting from the revelation that her family wouldn’t ever remember her, she knew that she only felt the pain of losing an idea, rather than any single person she’d actually known. Though Sasha had been lying about her true identity, Kaleb had still lost a very real person.

Grerick was the one who finally put a stop to their sparring. He called them inside and sat them down to explain, “I found a letter in Sasha’s room. It doesn’t say anything we didn’t already know, but it confirms that she took her orders directly from a man named Raus, who I suspect is the one leading Sincaeles and the man directly responsible for the emperor’s murder.”

He directed the last part toward Lia, who bit her tongue until he was done and then responded with, “Actually, I think a woman killed Emperor Levian, and perhaps his son, too.”

Kaleb’s head turned sharply and Grerick’s eyebrows rose with surprise. “A woman?” Grerick asked. “And what makes you say that?”

“Because I saw her. While I dreamt,” Lia elaborated.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Kaleb asked.

“I’d only just met you, and I was confused, and I wasn’t even sure if anything you were telling me was true, because it certainly didn’t make sense. I was going to say something eventually, when I was sure you were going to be as honest with me as I was with you.”

“What did this woman look like?” asked Grerick.

“Dark hair, and dark eyes too, I think. She was wearing a hood, and her skin was kind of pale. I only saw her face for a moment, but there was blood on her cloak.”

“Isn’t it possible she was only helping this Raus person?” suggested Kaleb. “Do we really think she was the one to deliver the killing blow just because you remember seeing her face?”

“Actually, you’ll recall that the emperor’s throne cannot be inherited by the person who murders its current holder, so if this Raus has decided to be particularly careful, it’s possible he had someone else commit the murder. Assuming his goal is to become the new ruler in some sort of legitimized way, of course,” said Grerick.

“That seems like a longshot,” said Kaleb. “First, we’re assuming that this man actually wants to be the next ruler, when he could just as easily want someone else in particular to be a puppet, or simply to cause a war between the nations over who the next ruler should be. Secondly, we’re assuming that he was careful enough to actually make sure he wasn’t the one to do the killing. And thirdly, we’re assuming that this woman is definitely the murderer even if Raus wasn’t.”

“Good,” Grerick complimented, nodding at him. “You’re using your head. What we should take away from this is that we still can’t assume anything other than that Sincaeles does not want Lia to pick the next ruler. What we need to find out is what their ideal alternative is. Is it to have one of them rule, to have someone they can control rule, to cause chaos by preventing a Seer-chosen ruler, some combination of the three, or something different entirely?”

“We should get some answers in Sperath, won’t we?” asked Lia. “It’s as you said: if they want someone that they can control, this princess is a good candidate. Or maybe they’ll want to eliminate her and make an argument for someone else to take her place.”

“Or they’ve somehow discovered that she’s the first person we’re after and will show up for that reason,” Kaleb pointed out, but he shot her a proud look nonetheless. “Regardless, we should expect trouble.”

“Which is why I’ve discovered something else today that will be important for you two to remember,” said Grerick. “You should already know that the members of Sincaeles brand themselves with a symbol: an ‘S’ on the backs of their necks. When I returned to the woods, I checked Sasha and her companion. The man had the symbol, but the back of Sasha’s neck had been badly burned more than once. It seems that Raus had some of his scouts get rid of their original brands to help disguise their identities. When you’re in Sperath, keep an eye out not only for anyone with the letter on the back of their necks, but also for anyone who has scarring there.”

“You aren’t coming with us?” asked Lia. “But we need your help. How do you expect me to figure this out on my own?”

“By the end of the month, you’ll be able to handle yourself well enough,” Grerick reassured her. “And you’ll have Kaleb with you, as well as my contact at the castle. I’ve sent a letter off to him asking if he can help you find jobs close to the castle. If we’re lucky, he’ll be able to get you work inside. I should hear back from him within a week or two. In the meantime, you should focus on training.”

“If I’m really going to be risking my life, then I want to learn how to throw knives,” Lia took the opportunity to tell him. “The way you did.”

“Learn to spar first,” Grerick replied, and Lia ignored the expectant look Kaleb shot her. “Defending yourself in close combat is more important.”

“If they can’t get to me, they can’t hurt me,” Lia argued.

“If you do not see them coming, then they’ve already gotten to you and you are defenseless,” said Grerick. “You will find most of your enemies will stab you in the back, not the front, given the choice and the opportunity. I would hope that last night taught you that.”

“What will you do for the next month, then, other than send letters?” Lia asked him.

He shot her an amused look that told her he hadn’t missed the mocking edge to her tone. “I will be looking into relocation. When your time in Sperath is over, you’ll need somewhere to keep the noble girl safe. I am afraid that this home is no longer ideal, given that Raus seemed to know to send his people here to watch me.”

“How will we know where to find you?” asked Kaleb.

“I’ll keep tabs on your location through the Keepers. When you need to find me, I’ll make sure you know how. Now,” he stood suddenly, and Lia instinctively rose with him, “if you aren’t too tired, there are still a few hours of daylight left. Your body may ache now, but it will ache even more tomorrow, so I would try to take advantage of the time you have left this evening.”

“We’ll start learning to ride horses tomorrow,” Kaleb suggested. “It won’t feel great on your thigh, but something tells me that’ll be the least of your concerns tomorrow.”

“Great,” sighed Lia, rubbing idly at a shoulder that was already beginning to smart. “Let’s hit each other with sticks for a couple more hours, then, before it gets dark.”

“That would imply that we were both taking a beating,” retorted Kaleb, “which is more than a little misleading.”

“Oh, hush,” she shot back, and was pleased to see him—however briefly—crack a smile.

4

With her hopes of returning to her old life dashed by the revelation that she would never be remembered by her family, Lia tried her best to immerse herself in her new role. She hadn’t chosen the new life she’d been given, but at least being the Seer gave her a purpose, and she couldn’t in good conscience ignore the consequences of refusing to cooperate.

Her next month was spent enduring rigorous training at the hands of Kaleb, who almost never held back after the first day and drove her to tears several times over the course of the first two weeks. But by the time a fortnight had passed, she’d grown to appreciate Kaleb’s harshness.

In a short time, she could already feel herself growing stronger and quicker, just as Grerick had predicted, and on the rare occasion that she managed to best Kaleb, Grerick would bring out his knife set and let her practice throwing them at targets Kaleb set up by the tree line at the edge of the field. She found she excelled at this, as she’d expected, though not nearly to the point of entertaining the idea that she’d done it before. No, if there was one thing she’d become certain of during her time training with Kaleb, it was that she’d probably never fought anyone in her life.

During her nights, she spent several hours in the study, poring over the books on the shelves at Grerick’s behest. They contained centuries of information on Eveinia and its history, and Grerick insisted that she could not be a part of choosing an emperor without an extensive understanding of what exactly the emperor’s responsibilities entailed and what mistakes had been made by past emperors. Lia had a retort ready regarding the counter-productive nature of the loss of her memories in this aspect, but bit her tongue and forced herself to start reading instead.

She learned about the twelve nations and about how their borders were supposedly drawn by the Divines themselves, of which there were believed to be three: one for the sky, one for the earth, and one for the seas. She learned about the three poorest nations, all of which bordered the nation of Kedlen on its southern side, and the rampant crime that had existed within them for centuries.

She even learned about the Seers themselves, and that only three had been called in the past five centuries: one when an emperor’s only child had died unexpectedly just two years before his father passed, leaving no living heirs remaining; one when a male firstborn had died in battle and the second child—a middle-aged woman at the time who had not anticipated becoming the emperor—had inherited the throne too late to successfully bear any heirs of her own; and lastly, Grerick himself, after Drigas’s refusal to marry or have children. Still, one thing she did not learn was precisely how the Seers were chosen. Unlike the existence of the mark on her palm, how she’d been selected was apparently not common knowledge, and with Grerick and Kaleb determined to keep it from her for reasons she could not understand, she remained unaware no matter how frequently she pestered them.

In her last two weeks, they maintained her usual sparring during the day, but added extra practice with the horses, and, at her own insistence, greater instruction with the knives. She never left the grounds of her new home, too fearful after her run-in with Sasha, but by the end of the month, she felt that if she did run into trouble, she would no longer find herself lying helplessly on the ground, waiting for Kaleb or Grerick to save her. She wasn’t any more enthused about the duties being forced upon her, but she had, at least, grown to accept her fate, and felt somewhat more equipped to handle the hurdles waiting for her along the way, daunting as they still seemed.

Her very last training match with Kaleb took place the day of their departure. “Prove you’re ready to leave tonight,” he teased her in a tone she’d become accustomed to, and she darted forward and knocked him flat on his back with a few well-placed swings of a stick.

In the month that she’d gotten to know him, Kaleb had slowly begun to recover following Sasha’s death, and now he bantered with her the way she imagined siblings would. The relationship came so naturally to her that it caused her to wonder if she had a brother she couldn’t remember. Her dreams had told her very little beyond a few brief flashes of roads and buildings that she didn’t recognize, and she hoped to learn more from them once she was in a new place with new stimuli to help jog her memory.

She helped Kaleb up after his defeat, and gave a dramatic bow when he clapped good-naturedly for her. While he was her better in strength by several leagues, she’d grown faster than him, and that, ultimately, was her advantage. He’d told her this himself, over and over again, until she’d assured him it would be the first thing she thought about if she found herself up against a larger opponent.

“You’re as ready as you can be, at least on such short notice,” he declared. “Now all we have to do is get there safely and lie low for as long as we can.”

Their plan was simple. They expected that the girl they sought would take some convincing to leave behind her home and her duty to Sperath, and so Lia was to get close to her and earn her trust. Grerick’s contact—a man who until recently had led the castle guard, and was now a respected knight of the court and close personal friend of Sperath’s king—had recommended Lia for a job as one of the princess’s personal servants, hired specifically as an extra pair of hands during the chaos of the girl’s upcoming courtship. Kaleb, meanwhile, had been given the cover of the castle’s new stable boy, and would be on the lookout for anything suspicious from the princess’s suitors or anyone else working in the castle.

If they were lucky, anyone from Sincaeles would eventually give themselves away, in which case Kaleb was to extract any and all information he could. If lingering proved to be too dangerous, they’d have to try their luck with the princess and hope she’d be willing to leave with them quickly. At worst, Lia would have to ask her to decipher the next line of text in the Oracle and then move on to the second heir without her company, but this was an absolute last resort, as anyone who was not present at the final ceremony where Lia chose the next emperor would simply not be eligible to be selected. This, Grerick explained, was not a horrific occurrence that needed to be avoided at all costs, but it wasn’t at all ideal, either. Eleven heirs to choose from was better than none, and if leaving the princess behind was the only way to locate the rest, then it would have to be done.

Grerick, as promised, would look into a safer place to relocate to, so that Kaleb and Lia would have a secure home waiting for the heirs as they found them. Lia had a feeling he’d need to find a new home quickly, given that a princess didn’t seem like a suitable companion for them on their journey. She wished Grerick could come along with them, as she suspected he was stronger than both Kaleb and herself, but she understood that his job was equally important, and—as Grerick had pointed out when she’d tried to convince him to join them—though he’d done well to keep a low profile over the past several decades, he was still far more likely to be recognized.

“Do you remember,” he asked her that evening as she checked her rucksack to ensure that her supplies had all been packed, “what you are to do with the Oracle?”

“Keep it hidden in my bag, and never let anyone else see it,” she recited.

“What happens if you lose it?”

“We can never find all twelve heirs,” she recalled. “So I should keep it out of sight, and never explain what it is to anyone outside of the heirs and Kaleb. The Oracle is the best-kept secret amongst the Seers for a reason.”

“Good.” Grerick nodded. “Stay close to Kaleb. If you sense you’re in over your head, get the girl and get out.”

“I’ve got it,” insisted Lia. “But you’re sure it’s her?”

“If it isn’t, it’s someone in that castle. I know you’ll find the right person. Just be careful. The moment you leave Lemn, you’ll be vulnerable. Raus hasn’t sent scouts here to look for Sasha yet, but with no sightings of a Seer, I imagine it won’t be long before he sends someone to get answers from anyone who hasn’t already reported back to him. Thankfully, with Sasha and her companion dead, he shouldn’t be able to infer anything about you beyond that you were here. Don’t have fights you can’t win unless you must. Don’t be afraid to run. You’re quick.” He paused, and then added, “And don’t be afraid to leave Kaleb behind. He knows the risks.”

“Both Kaleb and I will make it out of this alive,” she insisted. “And when it’s over, you’ll help me find my family. Even if they don’t remember me, I’d like to at least know who they are.”

“I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be, but I’ll do everything in my power,” Grerick promised. “We can only hope that with time, you’ll remember enough to point us in the right direction.” He cleared his throat as she nodded shortly at him, and then continued, “Henrik expects you in four to six days. The trip should take five; four if you hurry. You may stop in Powel on your way, but only if you must.”

“We’ll reach Powel on the second night, and then go around and on to the capital of Sperath: Thesp,” Lia recalled. “I’ve studied the map.”

“Do you have it with you?”

“Yes.”

“Then it appears that you’re ready. There’s nothing left to say.” He paused, at a loss for words for a moment, and then added, “Except—”

“Thank you.” She sucked in a breath and then threw her arms around him, catching both Grerick and herself by surprise. When she’d met him just one month ago, she’d never imagined she’d become so attached to him. But with her memories gone, Kaleb and Grerick were the only family she had at the moment, and saying goodbye to one of them was much more difficult than she’d anticipated. “Thank you for finding me and for taking care of me for this past month.”

“It was my duty,” he said, and then shook his head at himself when Lia pulled away. “And… you’re very welcome. Please take care of my son, provided he doesn’t get himself into a mess too big to clean up.”

“I’m sure he’ll be the one taking care of me.”

Kaleb came in to say goodbye to Grerick, and Lia let them have a few minutes alone. When they emerged from the study, both men had tears in their eyes, and Kaleb’s face was red. She reached out for his hand and squeezed it, then let it go as he shouldered his own rucksack.

Grerick saw them off at the back door, and then they were riding away on Shadow and Peony, into the very same forest Lia had limped out of just a month ago, where only the unknown awaited them now.

Darkness began to fall not long into their journey, and at Kaleb’s behest, Lia slowed Peony to a trot as they wound through a path through the wood.

“We don’t want to cover too much ground in the darkness,” Kaleb reminded her. “Not when we need the sun to guide us.”

“It sets in the west,” Lia recalled, twisting around in her saddle to watch the last remnants of daylight fading behind them. “We’re still heading south-east.”

“This path winds far too much to be reliable in the dark.”

“You’ve gone this way before?”

He nodded, slowing Shadow so that she could catch up to him. They rode side by side in silence for a minute or so. “I traveled along this path to the Outer Circle when I went to go look for you,” Kaleb said at last. “It should diverge not far from here; one path will lead to the south and the other will lead to the east. We’ll take the eastern path for a few hours, to the edge of the forest. But I suggest we make camp now, away from the path, before it gets dark.”

“I trust you.”

He slowed to a stop and she mimicked him, watching him glance at the trees around them. “This way,” he said at last, and directed Shadow off of the path at a gallop. Lia fumbled for Peony’s reigns and then started after him.

They’d only traveled for a few minutes before they reached an area where the trees thinned. Kaleb hopped off of his horse and stretched, and Lia dismounted beside him, grateful for the break. “Are you sore?” Kaleb asked her.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, ignoring the stiffness in her legs. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“There’s a stream that shouldn’t be far from here, to the east, if I’m remembering correctly. I’m going to take the horses to drink. Set out our bedrolls and dig a hole for a fire?”

“Sure.” She took the equipment from Peony before Kaleb led the horses away, and then glanced to the sky, which had darkened considerably in the minutes they’d spent searching for a place to set up camp.

With Kaleb gone, the forest very quickly grew quieter around her, and she forced herself to focus on her task rather than on the chirping crickets and the occasional suspicious snap of a twig. First, she cleared the ground of leaves, creating a square large enough for both her bedroll and Kaleb’s, which she laid out several feet apart. Between them, she knelt and reached out to curl her fingers into the dirt, but froze at the last moment, recalling she was meant to look presentable when she reached the castle. Having dirty fingernails was probably ill-advised.

She stood and searched for something else to dig with, and found a large stick with a broken end that could serve as a sort of scoop to help move the dirt.

Kaleb seemed pleased with her handiwork when he eventually returned, though she hadn’t yet finished the fire pit. “Let me,” he offered, and took hold of the stick in her hands. He dug quickly and she rose to look for twigs to burn.

Half an hour or so later, they’d both collapsed on their bedrolls with a warm, crackling fire between them and food in their bellies. Their horses had been tied to two nearby trees and then fed, and Lia watched Shadow paw at the ground for a few minutes before she lay back and stared up at the stars.

“I did this with Sasha once,” Kaleb murmured, breaking the silence. “I showed her the constellations Grerick taught me as a child and she… well, pretended to be fascinated, I suppose.”

“Show me,” offered Lia, eyes still on the stars. She lifted her head just enough to fit both of her hands behind it, then lay back down and waited expectantly.

Kaleb forced a laugh. “Do you really want to know or do you just feel badly for me?”

“It can’t be both?” she asked, and his next laugh was genuine. He didn’t speak for several moments, and she pressed, “Please?”

She heard him sigh on the other side of the fire, and then he asked, “Do you see the star on the far left? The one shining a little bit more brightly than the others?”

She squinted, searching the sky until she found the brightest star of them all. “Yes, I see it. Or at least I think I do.”

“That’s the middle point of Desdwin’s crown. You can see, from there, that the stars form a pattern. Diagonally down to the right, and then back up, and the same on the left, and then the lip across the bottom…”

“The same crown your favorite thief stole?” Lia recalled.

He gave a surprised chuckle. “You remember.”

“I’m named after her; of course I remember.”

“Right. And not after a horse.”

She stifled a laugh of her own. “Show me another.”

“Let me find one.” She waited while Kaleb searched, and then he declared, “The Sword of Vriidmont is in the distance, a little to the right. Its point is a bit bluer than the other stars, and the hilt is comprised of four smaller, dimmer stars.”

“I see the blue star,” said Lia. “But not the rest.”

“Imagine it’s pointed toward you and not away from you.”

“Ah.” She grinned. “I’ve got it now.” She sat up and rolled onto her side to face him. “Grerick taught you about the stars?”

“Grerick taught me most things I know,” he confirmed. “I assumed that went without explaining.”

“You don’t share much about yourself,” she said.

“Well, it’s only fair you know as much about me as I do about you, right?” he asked, teasing.

“Except I have no knowledge to share,” she huffed. “I’ll let you know when that changes.”

“Good. Now go to sleep.” He shifted onto his side, putting his back to her, and she sighed and lay down on her back, staring up at the sky again. “We have a long way to travel tomorrow.”

He fell silent for several minutes after that, but Lia noticed he’d reached up with one hand to clutch at the necklace he still wore around his neck. She assumed he was mouthing a silent prayer, something she’d often found him doing alone in his quarters just before he slept.

She remained awake, tracing the invisible lines between the stars that formed Desdwin’s crown, and then Vriidmont’s sword. Though she’d read about Eveinia in books, the world around them suddenly seemed much vaster than it had when she’d been confined to one home in Lemn.

“Kaleb?” she asked suddenly, hoping she hadn’t interrupted him.

“Yes?” came his tired mumble.

“Do you really believe that I can do this? We’re not even entirely sure I’m of age. This would be too much responsibility for a team of grown men, let alone someone who may still be a girl.”

“Well, the good thing about appearing to be a young girl is that you’ll be mistaken for just that,” said Kaleb. “You’ll be underestimated. So Raus won’t see it coming when you get the better of him.”

“Neither will I,” she replied dejectedly.

“But I will,” said Kaleb. His confidence was unmistakable.

She hid a smile as she lay back down in her bedroll, and then tried her best to get a few hours of sleep. They had a long several days awaiting them.

Their next day of travel was spent on a narrow road that ran out of the forest and all the way to Powel, a larger town on the edge of the Outer Circle, near the border of Ustera and Sperath. Lia was exhausted by nightfall, but she reassured Kaleb that she could remain awake long enough to travel around Powel’s outskirts.

They made it past Powel without incident, marking the halfway point of their journey, and carried on into Sperath and toward Thesp well into the night. When they slept, it was only for a few hours, and at daybreak, they set off again, over the rolling hills that covered the western half of Sperath. According to Kaleb, the northern quarter was almost entirely desert, and Lia was hopeful that they’d never have to travel there.

Their third night was spent camping in a valley a few hours’ ride from Thesp. Kaleb looked over their map by firelight, marking their path of travel with his finger as Lia watched over his shoulder. Eventually, she retired to bed without much fanfare and mindlessly toyed with a few strands of her hair. Kaleb looked over at her at one point and said, “I didn’t know you knew how to braid hair. That might be useful at the castle.”

She froze and looked down at her hands, found that she’d twisted some of her hair into a neat braid, and replied, “I didn’t know that I could braid hair, either.”

Nothing could have truly prepared Lia for Thesp.

The stone walls that bordered the city rose several stories into the air, and at its entrance were large, wooden doors that had to be drawn open with chains. A guard in full armor stood at attention on each side of the doors, and as they approached on their horses, Lia saw one of them move his hand to rest it on the hilt of his sword.

“Welcome to Thesp,” the other greeted them as they slowed to a stop. “What brings you to Sperath’s capitol?”

“We’ve been told to ask for Sir Henrik,” said Kaleb. Lia checked the sun’s position and saw it was close to setting; she hoped they hadn’t arrived too late in the evening, though Grerick had said Henrik would be expecting them at any time within the next two days.

“He’ll have to come to the doors and retrieve you,” said the friendlier guard. “Sorry for the inconvenience. The suitors vying for the hand of Princess Jade began courting her yesterday, so we’d like to minimize strange visitors during such a delicate time. And I’m afraid I don’t recognize the two of you.” He nodded to the other guard, who turned and slammed a closed fist against one of the doors three times in quick succession. A moment later, the door slowly began to open, just widely enough for him to slip inside. It closed behind him moments later.

“We’re actually here to work at the castle,” said Kaleb, trying to make polite conversation. “We were told it was expected to get quite hectic when the courting started. Sir Henrik thought some extra hands would be needed.”

“You’ve traveled all this way for that?” marveled the guard. “It must pay well.”

“Better than anything in Vorib.”

“Rough journey. I traveled it once and I’ll die happy if I never have to do it again.”

“That makes two of us!”

The guard let out a laugh and offered his hand to Kaleb. “Well, I hope you find our city worth the trip. I’m Cassius, if you ever need anything.”

“I’m Kaleb, and this is Lia,” replied Kaleb, shaking his hand. Lia offered Cassius a smile and a short nod.

She remained silent while Kaleb made small talk, and several minutes passed before the other guard returned. He exited through a small opening between the doors, just as he had before, and to Lia’s surprise, beckoned them inside.

“I spoke to the captain and he’s received word directly from Sir Henrik. We don’t need to search them; they’ll just need an escort to the castle.”

“It would be my pleasure,” offered Cassius, and the second guard nodded thankfully and let Cassius lead them inside.

The roads in Thesp were wide and made of cobblestones, unlike the small dirt roads Lia had grown accustomed to back in Lemn. The shoes of their horses clacked against the ground with every step, and Lia watched crowds of citizens pass them in the opposite direction. Horses pulled wagons of produce, merchants wheeled piles of silk, and small children chased each other in various directions, laughing and cheering. She sensed Peony was nervous, and stroked her mane in hopes that it’d calm her.

“You’ll enjoy the castle,” Cassius told them as they rode behind him. “It’s as beautiful on the inside as it is on the outside.”

“You’ve been inside?” Kaleb asked him.

“I worked there for a few months not long ago,” Cassius explained. “But I found gate work to be more rewarding. I much prefer getting to interact with travelers and protecting an entire city of people, rather than just its royalty. Nothing gets in without our knowledge.” Lia and Kaleb exchanged a brief look, and Kaleb’s eyes darted pointedly down to Lia’s bag, where she’d stowed the Oracle. Neither of them said anything more.

Soon they reached the castle grounds. A man waited for them there alone at the outskirts, and Cassius nodded a greeting as they reached him.

“Welcome,” said the man. He was middle-aged, nearly a head taller than the guard who’d escorted them, and had thinning, dark hair on top of his head despite his full beard. “Kaleb. Lia. It’s good to see you.”

“Sir Henrik,” Kaleb replied. He said the name with confidence, but Lia knew it was an educated guess at best.

The man nodded and gestured for them to dismount their horses, and Cassius took his leave with a quipped, “Enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” Kaleb replied. Lia didn’t take her eyes off of Henrik, who looked ready to speak again.

“I’ve pulled some strings to ensure that your horses are housed in the stables on the castle grounds,” he said. “They’ll be kept separately from the royal horses, but you’ll be able to care for them. I’ll make sure no questions are asked about them, nor about the weapons you’ve brought. You and I will arrange for a place to keep the swords and daggers where you’ll have access.” Henrik said this to Kaleb, who nodded his understanding as they led the horses along behind them.

Henrik guided them across the grounds, and Lia tried not to stare as they passed by several hedge sculptures and a marble statue of a man raising a sword. The grounds were beautiful, and littered with guards in chainmail armor, who seemed to be stationed around the castle. Henrik kept his voice low as they passed.

“Don’t get on the bad side of the guards. I still have weight with them, but the new guard captain is called Arin, and you don’t want to run into trouble with him. Kaleb, you’ll be shown to your quarters by the stable master, Josef, and will spend very little time inside the main section of the castle. Lia will stay in the servants’ quarters with the rest of the female servants who work directly for the princess. You’ll take orders from Josef, and she’ll take orders from the head servant, Bethilda.” He turned to Lia. “You’ll keep the clothes washed and the castle spotless, with particular focus on the needs of the princess herself. When she says ‘jump’, you ask how high. If she wants you to feed her with your own two hands, then you follow orders.”

“I understand,” Lia cut in quickly, eager to stop him there.

Henrik first led them to the stables, where they left Peony and Shadow. Then he ordered Kaleb, “Enter the castle through that side door, just over there. Tell the guard in front of it that you’re the new stable boy, and ask him where you can find Josef. He’ll take you from there.”

“Thank you,” said Kaleb, and drew himself up to his full height, extending his hand to Henrik. “As a fellow Keeper—”

Henrik’s eyes narrowed and he interrupted, “Don’t say another word about that here. If things around here are going to get as nasty as Grerick seems to suspect, the last thing any of us wants is to have your true identities revealed, or for anyone to find out that I’ve helped you. We know who we are and we’ll leave it at that.” Kaleb nodded shortly, humbled, and Henrik beckoned to Lia. “Good luck, Kaleb. Lia, come with me; I’ll take you to Bethilda.”

“Good luck,” Kaleb echoed. Lia tried to slow her pounding heart as Henrik led her away to the castle’s front entrance.

The guards at the door let them inside without question, and Lia was immediately overwhelmed by the room that awaited her. Towering columns lined the entryway and a long, maroon rug formed a pathway to a pearl-white staircase. Paintings of every size adorned each wall, and two identical statues of what looked to be dragons stood upright on either side of the staircase. In the very center of the room hung a brass chandelier.

“This is beautiful,” Lia breathed out.

“Don’t act so enthralled,” Henrik warned. “You’re supposed to have worked in castles before, remember? Please tell me you’ve learned how to wash clothing and scrub floors, at the very least.”

“I have,” Lia murmured, defensive. “Of course I have.”

“Good. Bethilda is this way.” He glanced down to her hands, on which she’d worn riding gloves, and added, “Try to keep those covered, by the way. Bethilda should give you proper gloves by tomorrow.”

He led her past the staircase and through several unoccupied rooms. Lia counted two different dining rooms, a storage room of some sort, and a bedroom fit for a prince before she was finally led down the length of a dark hallway, to a room at the very end. Henrik pushed the door open and Lia followed him inside. The room was filled with rows of beds and seemed to only house women. Several occupied the room, and Lia was met with curious stares from all of them.

“This is Lia,” Henrik introduced. He was addressing the oldest of them all: a tall woman with gray hair and what seemed to be a permanent scowl on her lips, who stood by herself at the front of the room. Lia guessed this was Bethilda. “She’s the new servant girl.”

“Good. It’s about time we finally received an extra pair of hands,” snapped the woman. Lia knew immediately that she would not enjoy working under Bethilda. “I’ll take her from here.”

Henrik left her without so much as a goodbye, and Lia stood uncomfortably in the doorway, wondering if there was something she was meant to say or do.

“You can scrub floors, I presume?” asked Bethilda, and Lia nodded shortly. She saw two of the younger servants exchange amused smiles, and felt a flush crawl up her cheeks.

There were five other women in total, excluding Bethilda. Two of them were younger than Lia, and a third was a young woman who looked close in age to Kaleb. The fourth was in her late twenties at the least, and the fifth was an older woman not much younger than Bethilda. Lia guessed they were both in their fifties or sixties.

“It’s your first day, so I’ll let you get acclimated,” said Bethilda shortly. “Don’t leave this room without an escort. Carla, show her the ropes.” The woman in her late twenties nodded her agreement. “If she gets into trouble today, it’ll be your head. The rest of you, get to work. Follow me; the floors won’t clean themselves and we have five new noblemen to impress.”

Bethilda swept past her without further explanation, and Lia looked around, at a complete loss, as the other four girls rose quickly to follow her. She was left alone in the room with the girl Bethilda had called Carla, who was looking at her as though she was tempted to laugh.

“Bethilda is intimidating when you first meet her, but you’ll learn quickly that she’s mostly bark and hardly bite,” said Carla. She stood and walked to Lia, offering her hand. “I’m Carla. You are… Lia, was it?”

“Yes.” Lia shook her hand hastily and hoped she didn’t seem too overeager or out of place. When they let go, Carla studied her for a moment, the same amused look still on her face.

“Lia. And how old are you?”

“Um.” Lia sensed her best guess still remained one of the numbers Sasha had suggested so many weeks ago. “Eighteen.”

“Eighteen?” Carla echoed, eyebrows raised. Then she gave a short, knowing laugh. “So the same age as Princess Jade, now that she’s just come of age. Well, she will love you.” She reached out, and, to Lia’s surprise, caressed her cheek with her fingertips. “Young and pretty as you are.”

“I’m sorry?” Lia asked, uncertain. She was thankful when Carla removed her hand.

“Never mind. You’ll see for yourself.” Carla returned to her bed, sweeping her arm dramatically along the way, and Lia placed her bag under the nearest unmade bed, vowing to move it later when she discovered where exactly she’d be sleeping. “Welcome to our humble abode. With the exception of the one day a month we’re given to ourselves, we spend our time keeping the rest of the castle looking spotless while we sleep here in the most dismal room of all, where no one important ever has to set foot. Just follow orders and you’ll do fine.”

“Where does the princess stay? Jade?”

“We call her ‘Your Highness’ or ‘Milady’ to her face. ‘Your Grace’ or ‘Your Majesty’ tends to be reserved for the king and queen. Call them those. Even after you hate them and you can’t stand to say it any longer.” Carla smirked at her. “She stays on the top floor, not too far from here, actually. We have to be close by in case she wants help fluffing a pillow in the middle of the night, after all. This castle houses many servants, but we’re the ones who make it our top priority to serve her directly.”

“You don’t seem to like this job,” Lia observed.

“Oh, no, you misunderstand.” Carla shook her head. “I’ve been here for almost as long as Bethilda. Ever since I was a girl and the princess was a small child. So I can get away with saying it’s awful. Jokes aside, I actually think it’s quite nice compared to what I could be doing. But if you wind up hating it, make sure you don’t let Bethilda hear you complaining. There are three reasons girls lose their jobs here, and if it’s not because they don’t do good work, it’s usually because they make it too obvious that they’re miserable.”

“What’s the third reason?” Lia asked, wary.

Carla grinned. “I think I’ll let you find out.” There was a teasing edge to her tone, and Lia decided it was best not to pursue it, as she guessed Carla was likely trying to rattle her.

“Fine,” she said instead. “Well, what shall we do first?”

“I could show you around the castle,” Carla suggested.

“We can do that?”

“Of course, as long as you don’t go alone. Just keep your head down and if we run into anyone dressed nicely, don’t make eye contact and try not to look out of place. They prefer for us not to be seen or heard outside of when we’re working.” Carla stood and swept past her, out of the room, and tossed over her shoulder, “Try to keep up.”

Carla led her through a series of corridors and past several rooms that somehow managed to look identical save for a painting here or a table there, and Lia had to walk quickly to keep up. “This place has a fascinating history,” explained Carla. “The castle was supposedly built by slaves centuries ago, and they were said to have filled it with secret rooms and passages only known to them. I happen to know of at least one room that was discovered during my time here. The king uses it as his own personal study now. Who knows how much truth there is to the rest of it, but supposedly there are tunnels that were used to get in and out without being seen.”

They passed a door that led to the grounds, by which Carla paused to tell Lia that they washed clothing just outside, and then she was taken down the hallway to a large ballroom, where she found herself enamored with a painting of a blonde woman that hung on the far wall.

“That’s the queen, Princess Jade’s mother, and the eldest living member of the Sperathian royal bloodline,” Carla explained briefly, and then left her alone by the painting. Lia heard her say more but wasn’t paying attention; there was something about the woman in the painting that seemed oddly familiar, particularly around the eyes. They were a deep, dark blue, and even in the painting, they stood out.

When she finally tore her gaze away and looked around, Carla had vanished. Lia froze, immediately panicked. The room had several exits, and she had no way of knowing which one Carla had taken.

She was just making the decision to wait for Carla to notice that she hadn’t followed when she heard the distant sound of a heavy door swinging open, and then a single set of footsteps. Someone had entered the castle through the door Carla had just shown her.

She headed toward the hallway as the footsteps grew louder, hoping to see one of the other female servants she’d already met, and instead found herself face to face with a young man, who, startled, took a step back from her and let out a short, “Oh.”

She recalled that Carla had seemed to think that the biggest way to tell the difference between the nobles and the servants in the castle was their dress, and a quick glance down to this man’s clothing told her that he was probably a servant. His shoes were well-polished, but worn, and she noticed a patch of dirt on one of the knees of his trousers. “I’m sorry I startled you,” she said, “but have you seen Carla?”

He nodded shortly. “Yes, I just passed her on the grounds outside. She seemed to be talking to herself, for some strange reason.” He smiled, amused, and then stepped to the side to let her pass. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m wanted in the kitchens.” He shot her an apologetic look and moved past her.

Once he’d gone, she turned and pushed open the door to the grounds, then stepped outside and let it swing shut behind her. She could see the small area devoted to washing clothing, as Carla had mentioned, and beyond that, the grounds stretched out for several dozen yards in all directions. She could see the stables on the far side and expected that was where she’d find Kaleb during the day. Opposite from the stables was a path that curved around a long line of hedges, blocking its destination from view.

Unable to see Carla from her spot by the door, Lia ventured toward the path, trying not to look so self-conscious when she noticed a nearby guard following her with his eyes.

Beyond the hedges, the path both narrowed and twisted through more shrubbery, and as Lia moved toward another bend, she heard a dull thunk and a triumphant, “Ha!” The speaker sounded female.

She reached the bend and peered around the corner, curious. The path came to an end only mere feet away, and then opened up into a large square area surrounded entirely by the hedges. Two benches had been placed amongst several rows of flowers, and Lia realized that she’d stumbled upon a garden of sorts.

But on the near side of the garden, with her back to Lia, a girl that looked to be around her age and height stood poised with a bow, which she aimed at a wooden target on a long stake placed into the ground on the other side of the garden. A young servant stood with her, holding a quiver stocked fully with arrows. “Another,” the girl said to him, stretching her hand palm-out in his direction.

He obeyed and handed her an arrow, though he was clearly hesitant. As he watched her take aim, he said, “Pardon me, but it’s getting late. Perhaps you should retire for now?”

“I’ll take a break when I’m ready,” she replied. Lia studied her as she pulled the bowstring back and prepared to let the arrow fly.

She was wearing a light coat over a tunic and trousers not unlike those of the servant beside her, and had her long, blonde hair pulled up into a bun. Lia wondered why she was permitted to order around her fellow servant, but that train of thought died when the girl released the arrow and it buried itself into the center of the target, centimeters from several other arrows that had also been well-aimed. Lia gasped, impressed, and both the girl and the man turned suddenly, noticing her presence.

The man looked panicked as he asked, “Who are you?”

“Relax,” the girl said to him. She was already smiling as she handed the bow over to the man. “I was told I’d be getting a new servant today. This must be her.”

Lia felt her stomach lurch when she realized she was looking at Princess Jade. The girl’s strong resemblance to the queen from the painting suddenly seemed obvious. She had the very same eyes, and a soft, feminine face, just like her mother.

“Hello,” Lia managed weakly, and then wondered if silence would have been preferable, or if perhaps she should’ve curtsied before speaking.

“Hello there,” said Jade, still smiling. “It seems you’ve stumbled upon my secret hobby. My father wouldn’t be pleased to find out about this; he considers archery a man’s sport. But given that you work for me, I expect you won’t be tempted to tell him?”

Lia opened her mouth uncertainly, searching for a response, but the sudden sound of footsteps behind her distracted them both.

It was Carla, who took one look at her and hissed, “You fool! I told you to follow—” She cut herself off abruptly when she noticed exactly what she’d stumbled upon. Though she seemed surprised to see Jade, Jade made no move to conceal what she’d been doing. Given her earlier comments, Lia had an inkling that the majority of Jade’s servants were already aware of what she’d called her “secret hobby”.

“Oh! Your Highness! I didn’t see you there,” said Carla. “I apologize; the new servant girl has evidently had some trouble navigating the castle.”

“Aren’t the other girls meant to be cleaning floors at the moment?” asked Jade. “Perhaps you should join them.”

“Of course. Come, Lia.” Carla curtsied to Jade and then beckoned Lia along, but Lia had not yet even taken her first step before Jade held up a hand to stop her.

“Return on your own,” she ordered Carla. “I’ll send this girl back to your quarters in a moment.”

“Yes, Milady.” Carla shot Lia a warning look before she departed, as though silently ordering her not to make any more mistakes.

When Carla had gone, Jade offered Lia a friendly smile, which only served to confuse her further. She couldn’t discern whether she was meant to be intimidated or not.

“So do you like the castle?” Jade asked her, and then removed her coat while she waited for a response. Beside her, the other servant made no move to help, but even so, Lia gave a quick thought to the coat, wondering if she’d been meant to remove it instead.

“It’s very beautiful,” she said. “And so are the grounds.”

“Here.” Jade stepped forward and offered her the coat. “I’ll show you my room. You’ll need to know where it is. Fold this and carry it in your arms.” She winked as Lia accepted the coat and tried her best to fold it neatly. “You’ll need to look like you’re doing something. Walk a few paces behind me and keep your head down.” Jade spared the male servant a glance as she added, “I trust you’ll get this cleaned up before anyone else discovers it?”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Lia watched her turn and head the same way Carla had gone, and followed wordlessly, her discomfort mounting. Jade was already not what she’d expected, but she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“I make a point to help acclimate the new girls,” Jade told her as they entered the castle. “Normally I’d have gotten to you sooner, but setting up a target practice session right under my father’s nose is difficult enough, so I try to take advantage of his afternoon naps. I apologize.”

“No need to apologize, Your Highness,” Lia murmured. That made Jade laugh for some reason.

“I see Carla’s taught you how to address me already. Don’t worry about being so formal with me when we’re alone. I only continue to make Carla follow those rules because she ruined my favorite stuffed animal when I was a child.” Lia was silent, unsure of what she was meant to say. “You can laugh, by the way. Sometimes I make jokes.” As Lia stared, wide-eyed, at the back of her head, Jade heaved a long sigh. “First five dull men take turns fighting over me for several hours and now I can’t even get a servant to laugh at my jokes. This hasn’t been my day, has it?”

They ascended to the second floor and Jade paused by a door at the end of the next corridor, then turned to Lia and said, “I hope they’ve cleaned it. I’d hate to make a terrible impression.” Lia managed a small smile as her nerves finally began to quell, and Jade nodded her approval. “Ah, there we go! A smile.” She pushed the door open and led Lia inside with a flourish. “You can set the coat down on the chair by my bed.”

Lia took the room in with wide eyes as she walked to the bed, which looked to comfortably fit three or four fully grown adults and was covered in several layers of silk sheets. Jade’s room was also home to an armoire, a large wardrobe filled to the brim with linen clothing, and two desks, one of which was covered in boxes of what Lia assumed had to be jewelry. The curtains that framed the windows were a shining golden color, and through one of the windows, she could see the entirety of the front courtyard.

Jade caught her looking and asked, “It’s a nice view, isn’t it? You can take a closer look.”

Lia made no move toward the window, and instead took a deep breath and gathered the courage to ask, “So you’re always this accommodating?”

“Yes. Most of the time. But the longer I keep you here, the longer I have an excuse not to reconvene with the men my mother and father like to call my suitors. I get enough people showering me with meaningless compliments every day without the five of them around. If I have to listen to one more metaphor about how beautiful I am, I swear I’m going to put an arrow between the speaker’s eyes.”

“You are very beautiful,” Lia couldn’t resist teasing, and she earned a smirk and an eye-roll from Jade for her efforts.

“You’re cheeky, I see.” She crossed to the desk without the jewelry boxes, her back to Lia, and then wordlessly beckoned her over. Lia abandoned the coat by the chair to join her. “Do you see these?” Jade asked her, and pointed to five small objects she’d lined up across the middle of the desk.

Lia nodded, studying them. The first was a marble figurine of a man on a horse, small enough to fit into the palm of her hand, the second and third were a set of pearl earrings and a sapphire pendant, the fourth was a gold-embroidered handkerchief, and the last was an envelope that looked to contain some sort of letter.

“Which do you prefer?” Jade asked her. Lia looked up at her, confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Of the five. Which would you most like to receive as a gift? The letter is a poem, by the way. I advise you not to read it.”

“Well, it would depend on what their purpose was,” Lia mused. She wondered if this was some sort of test, and if it was, which choice was the correct one.

“Five men, five gifts,” said Jade, amused. “Don’t overthink it. Which gift would you want to receive from a man?”

“I’m not entirely sure I’d want to receive any gift from a man if its greatest purpose was to convince me to marry him,” Lia muttered with distaste, and Jade’s smile grew wider.

Still, she insisted, “Choose.”

“Alright,” Lia gave in, and took a moment to think. “The jewelry is lovely, but it’s very easy, isn’t it? And I’d like to give credit toward the poem, but given that you don’t want me to read it, I imagine it’s...” She searched for a word that dealt a softer blow than the one in her head, but Jade supplied the end of the sentence for her anyway.

“Not good, yes.”

Lia heaved a sigh and shook her head. “Alright, well, a handkerchief seems so simple as well…” She pointed toward the figurine with a shrug. “That one.”

“That was Rolfe’s gift,” said Jade. “You have good taste; he’s the most tolerable of them all.” She picked up the figurine, turned it over daintily in her hands for a moment, and then offered it to Lia. “Here. Take it.”

Lia balked, uncertain. “What?”

“You can have it,” Jade insisted, pressing it into her hands. “Consider it a welcoming gift, or a bribe to keep quiet about the archery in the garden, if you’d like. Or a gift for helping me waste some time. Or a gift for helping judge my gifts. Whatever you’d like.”

“What if I’d chosen the jewelry?” asked Lia, half-heartedly accepting the figurine.

“Then I’d have given it to you, clearly.” Jade seemed close to laughter again. “But I appreciate your honesty. Don’t let anyone see that you have that, by the way. You’ll probably be removed from the castle. They’ll think you stole it. Or maybe they’d realize I gave it to you… in which case you’d actually still be removed for having it in your possession, so there’s that to worry about.”

“What?” Lia was only growing more confused. “Then I shouldn’t take it. Here.” She tried to hand it back, but Jade made no move to accept it.

“It’s a gift. It would be rude not to accept.”

“It’s rather rude of you to force me to take something that will cause me to lose my job if I’m caught with it, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but you work for me,” Jade pointed out. “Perhaps I’ll ask that you be removed if you don’t accept it, in which case accepting it is really your only option.” She was grinning in a teasing manner, but even so, Lia let out a laugh in disbelief, completely disarmed.

“You’re much less.. noble than expected,” she said, sensing Jade wouldn’t take offense to the comment.

“You’re not the first person to tell me that,” Jade admitted, unbothered.

“Princess—”

Both women turned toward the door at the sound of a new voice, and Lia noticed Jade immediately take a hasty step away from her, putting some distance between them. The same young man Lia had encountered by the door to the grounds was at Jade’s bedroom door now, a plate in his hands that looked to be covered in several different types of cheese. His eyes were wide, as though he believed he’d seen something he shouldn’t have.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, I didn’t realize—”

“It’s fine, Sivan,” said Jade. “This is the new servant girl, Lia. She was just leaving. What is it?” She tilted her head suggestively, glancing to Lia, and Lia quickly took the hint and made her way to the door. As she slid past Sivan, she made eye contact with Jade and then carefully sat the figurine down on the desk by the door. Jade pressed her lips together tightly, but the corners of her lips remained upturned, as though Lia had offered a challenge she was eager to accept.

5

The rest of Lia’s first evening in the castle was spent almost entirely in the company of Carla, who, once she’d grudgingly forgiven Lia for getting lost, guided her first through the routine of dusting, sweeping, and scrubbing the floors of a single room, and then through washing a large pile of dirty clothing. Lia, having acquired experience with both while living with Grerick and Kaleb, had little difficulty with either task.

They rejoined the other girls for supper in the servants’ quarters, and then Bethilda showed Lia to the bed she’d be sleeping in each night. Her bed was beside Carla’s and somewhat separate from the other girls’, and she decided after some consideration that being close to Carla was a good thing.

Carla was less stoic than the other girls, who took their jobs considerably more seriously and rarely even cracked a smile outside of the privacy of their quarters, and if Lia’s conversation with Jade was any indication, perhaps Lia’d be better off relaxing a little. Her ultimate aim was, of course, to gain Jade’s trust and recruit her to their cause. If maintaining a professional attitude was going to hurt that, then she’d have to find some sort of balance, the way that Carla had.

“So you haven’t told me what our favorite princess wanted with you yet,” Carla murmured to her as they changed the sheets of their beds together that night. “You took longer to return than I expected.”

Lia’s cheeks colored and she turned away to collect her pillow, which she’d temporarily moved to the empty bed on her other side. “That’s actually because I got lost,” she admitted. She’d confused the large corridors and it had taken her several more minutes to return to Carla than she’d anticipated.

“Well, I’m glad no one saw you, or I’d have been blamed for it,” said Carla. “I know the castle is large, but you’ll get used to it soon.”

“I hope so.” She placed her pillow at the head of her bed and admired her handiwork for a moment.

Carla, too, finished, and they took a seat together as she pressed, “So. What did she want with you?”

“Just to welcome me,” said Lia. She noticed the two younger servant girls coming nearer; one of them had tossed the other’s pillow across the room and they were each playfully fighting to get at it. Lia decided not to mention the incident with the gifts, but added, “I was sent away when a servant boy came to see her. Sivan, I think his name was.”

The two younger girls turned toward her immediately, exchanged a glance, and then burst into giggles as one of them snatched the pillow up. They hurried away and Lia faced Carla, confused.

“Don’t mind Afi and Jemma.” Carla rolled her eyes. “They’ll believe anything they hear.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that they think there’s something going on between Jade and that servant boy.”

“Something romantic?” Lia asked, surprised, and then felt dumb when Carla arched an eyebrow at her in disbelief.

“Yes, of course. What did you think I meant?”

“But I thought she was meant to marry someone who’s…” Lia searched for a way to finish the sentence, but Carla beat her to it.

“Important? Noble? Not working for her parents? Yes, well, she still can. But that doesn’t mean she has to love him, does it? So the rumor goes that she’s in love with Sivan. He has been around for quite a while: almost as long as I have. But I doubt that that particular rumor has any validity.”

“You say that like there are other rumors you do believe,” Lia noticed. “When I spoke with her today, she certainly seemed to dislike the idea of marrying any one of those five men. Not that that means she’s in love with someone else, of course, but it would certainly explain her distaste for the idea.”

“I thought you said she only welcomed you to the castle.” Carla smirked, aware that she’d caught Lia in a lie. “Did you even actually get lost?”

“Yes,” insisted Lia. “I really did take longer to get back because I got lost. But she did also talk about the men. Just to say that one of them was better than the rest, but she didn’t seem very enthused about spending time with them, either. She didn’t say why.” She paused, uncertain. “You really don’t think it’s because she already loves someone else?” She wasn’t particularly concerned with Jade’s personal life, but she did want to know if there was someone in the castle that would hamper Jade’s willingness to leave it behind. For that same reason, the princess’s dislike of her suitors was relieving to discover.

“I don’t,” said Carla. “It’s a nasty rumor, and I’m sure it’s one she knows about, too.” Carla’s smirk had returned. “But I think she lets it go on because the truth is much nastier.”

Lia waited to hear more, but Carla did not continue. “Well?” she pressed. “Go on.”

“But it’s much more fun to let you wonder,” sighed Carla, lying back on her bed and crossing her arms behind her head. Lia leaned forward toward her.

“Go on,” she said again. “Tell me.”

“Oh, alright,” relented Carla far too easily, as though she’d been eager to share all along. “Do you remember how I told you earlier that there were three things that could get a servant girl removed from duty?”

“Yes. Being bad at our jobs was the first, and openly hating it was the second,” Lia recalled. “What else has gotten girls removed?”

“It’s rare,” began Carla. “Rare enough that I’ve only seen it a few times in my dozen years here. Only those of us that’ve been here for years have picked up on it, so you’ll be hard-pressed to find a servant still here who’s heard about this particular rumor.”

“So why are you telling me?” wondered Lia. “If it’s such a big secret, I mean.”

“Because I like you, and judging by the way your first meeting with Princess Jade has gone, you’ll be out of here soon yourself if I don’t warn you.”

“Warn me?” Lia echoed. “So is this is a nasty rumor or a warning, then?”

“Both. If you were to work here for long enough, you’d notice that some of the handmaidens and servant girls wear out their welcome a lot more quickly than the others for reasons that have gone unexplained. And that the princess seems to favor them.”

“Favor them? What exactly do you mean by that?”

“Let’s just say that they get frequent invitations to her chambers. She’s friendlier with them. Asks for their help at strange hours of the night a little bit more often than the rest of us. And they, in turn, seem to speak much more highly of her than the rest of us ever have.” Carla arched an eyebrow. “Do you understand or do I need to be more blunt?”

Lia glanced toward the younger girls in the room, wide-eyed, and Carla shook her head. “Afi and Jemma are both only fourteen. And Gaia is twenty-three, which makes her a bit too old, as am I, obviously.”

“So then who exactly has given you reason to believe your theory has any merit?” asked Lia. “Certainly you must have some sort of proof if you’re willing to make such a bold claim.”

“Only my memories. The girls, inevitably, are removed by order of the king or queen themselves; our lovely princess is cranky for a few weeks, and then someone new is hired. I’ve counted three so far since she turned fourteen, and you, my new friend, are well on the way to being number four.”

“Hush,” hissed Lia, turning red. “I am nothing of the sort, and you’re the one who’ll be removed if they hear you talking like this.”

“Fine. Believe she loves the servant boy.” Carla shrugged her shoulders. “But I think my reasoning does a much better job of explaining why she lacks the enthusiasm you’d expect from someone with five noblemen vying for her attention.”

“Or maybe she wants a man who isn’t trying to buy her affection,” argued Lia.

Carla just shrugged again, evidently having given up on convincing her. “You asked me to explain.”

“Well, after you denounced what you called ‘nasty rumors’, I expected something a little less baseless.” Lia followed the lead of the women around them, who were beginning to blow out the candles keeping the room alight, and slid underneath the sheets she’d placed on her bed. Her head hit her pillow and she sighed deeply, then tucked her hands beneath it and removed the new gloves she’d been wearing in the two hours since Bethilda had given them to her. With her hands bare beneath the pillow, she froze.

She could feel a small, hard lump pressing against her palm, and after some careful prodding, she realized that something was inside of her pillowcase.

Shielded by the darkness now, she rose slightly and slid one arm under the pillow, feeling around for a moment before her fingers brushed against something made of stone. She fumbled with the object for a moment, tracing the contours of it with her index finger, and then stifled a gasp and withdrew her arm sharply when she realized what it was: the marble figurine of the horse and rider.

“As most of you are already aware, there will be a small banquet tonight,” Bethilda announced the following morning during their breakfast in the servants’ small dining hall. Lia tore her eyes away from the table of young men across the hall—Sivan sat in the very center of them, between two larger men at least a decade his senior, and seemed very determined not to meet her gaze—and turned to Bethilda, curious. “Carla, Afi, and Lia, look your best; you’ll be helping to serve the food. The rest of you will be assisting in the kitchens.”

“Follow me after breakfast,” Carla murmured to Lia as soon as Bethilda left them to finish eating. “You’re still just meant to be doing whatever it is I’m ordered to do.”

“How long does that last?” Lia wondered. She didn’t really mind working closely with Carla, but having to stick by another person every minute of the day did give her less of an opportunity to find out if anyone in the castle was a threat to Jade, and if Jade was really the person the Oracle had written of in the first place.

“You’re to stay by my side until you can be relied upon,” Carla explained. “The sooner you prove you’re competent, the sooner you can be trusted to do things without my help.”

“I’m surprised they want me for the banquet. Serving seems more difficult than helping in the back.”

“Perhaps the princess requested you serve her,” Carla said idly, and then grinned when she saw Lia’s eyes narrow.

After breakfast, Carla and Lia were assigned to laundry duty for the next two hours. They went outside and Lia washed clothes until her fingers pruned and began to ache. To get through the monotony of the job the day before, she’d made conversation with Carla, but this time she found that to be much more difficult.

Their conversation the previous night had driven a slight wedge between them, and Lia instead passed the time contemplating the rumors she’d heard about Jade. She doubted the validity of both, but if either were true, it seemed pertinent that she know, given her intentions. Were she not tied to Carla, she’d have liked to seek out Sivan and attempt to uncover the truth about his relationship with Jade—or lack thereof—but with Carla at her side, that wasn’t possible.

So she did the daily chores allotted to her, and when they received a break for lunch, she ate quickly and then spent the last few minutes alone on her bed, turning over the marble figurine Rolfe had given to Jade in her hands and contemplating how she’d return it without being seen. She sensed this was quickly becoming some sort of game between them, and questioned Jade’s motive for starting it in the first place. Did the idea of framing one of her new servants for theft really amuse her so much that she’d sneak down to the servants’ quarters herself just to plant a figurine in a pillowcase? Or did she have some other reason for doing so?

Lia huffed aloud and placed the figurine back into its hiding spot within the pillowcase, then rose from her bed and moved to go through the bag of clothing she’d stowed underneath, careful to keep the Oracle hidden at the very bottom, buried beneath what few articles of clothing she had to her name. She hadn’t brought much along, as the little she owned had all been taken from Sasha in the first place, and none of it seemed fit for serving royalty.

“Excuse me. Carla asked me to retrieve you.”

She looked up and over to the doorway, then stood abruptly when she saw it was Sivan who had come to speak to her. He glanced between Lia and the clothes she’d been rummaging through, and then hid a smile. She sensed he was trying not to laugh at her, and so she explained, embarrassed, “I’ve been given serving duty tonight at the banquet.”

“I have, as well.” He paused, uncertain, and then asked, “You know they’ll provide dress for you, don’t you? They’d never let you pick out your own clothing.”

“But Bethilda said we were supposed to look our best. So I thought—”

Sivan laughed before she could finish. “She means clean yourself up and brush out your hair. That’s all.”

“Oh.” They stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment, and then Lia hastily put her clothes away. When she was finished, she walked to Sivan, her hand outstretched. “Sorry. It’s nice to meet you. I mean, we’ve met twice already, but—”

“Not officially,” he agreed, shaking her hand. “I’m Sivan. It’s nice to meet you as well. And under better circumstances.” He arched an eyebrow, curious. “Princess Jade certainly wanted to brush your visit under the rug after you were gone. May I ask what you were doing up there?”

“What were you doing up there?” Lia deflected.

“Well, you may have noticed the cheese platter. I was getting her opinion for the banquet tonight, actually.”

“You came all the way to her personal quarters for an opinion on cheese?” asked Lia, skeptical.

“Yes, I did.” He nodded, and then shrugged when she continued to study him. “Your turn.”

“I was carrying her coat for her.” At Sivan’s doubtful look, she added, “I ran into her on the grounds and she asked me for help. I obeyed. Isn’t that what we’re meant to do?”

“I suppose so. After all, I was obeying orders to get her opinion.”

“On cheese.”

“On cheese,” he confirmed shortly. “So it would seem that we were both only doing what we were told.”

Lia smiled thinly. “It would seem so.”

Sivan was silent for a moment, watching her, but Lia’s polite smile did not waver. “Good,” he said at last. His eyes narrowed slightly and the corners of his lips quirked upward, and then he turned and walked away, calling out over his shoulder, “Try not to keep Carla waiting.”

“I won’t,” she assured him, folding her arms across her chest and frowning deeply at his back. She wasn’t sure why Jade had been so insistent on giving her the marble figurine, but she was sure of one thing: that the princess’s relationship with Sivan was more than what it seemed.

Carla helped Lia ready herself for the banquet that night. Her hair was pulled up into a neat bun and she was brought a clean pair of trousers and a tunic. Thankfully, Carla said nothing about removing her gloves, and so Lia kept them on, still careful to keep her palms concealed. Right before they were led to the kitchens, she snatched the figurine from her pillowcase and hid it in the pocket of her trousers.

She spent an hour or so watching kitchen staff scurry around in a panic while Bethilda instructed her on how to address the various noblemen and women at the banquet. “Lia, be polite and keep your head down. Know your place. And no eye contact! Come when you’re called and always be aware. If you aren’t carrying food or drink, stick to the corners and stay away from the guests unless they address you.”

“I understand,” she mumbled, gaze low, and Bethilda moved away, satisfied.

Carla stuck close to her until she was ordered out with a large, covered dish, but it wasn’t long until Lia, too, was distractedly given a plate to carry by one of the busy kitchen staff. Hers was topped with several glasses of wine, and she stared, wide-eyed, at the precarious glasses as she walked the tray out to the largest dining hall in the castle.

The room was filled with guests in luxurious clothing. Some of them were no longer eating by the time Lia arrived, and were dancing in pairs in the center of the room. A quartet of men sat in one corner of the room, playing a soft song on string instruments. Lia spotted Sir Henrik sitting at the central table at the head of the room, not far from a man she assumed to be Jade’s father, the king. He, too, had blonde hair and blue eyes, and he was laughing with Sir Henrik over a glass of wine two seats down from where Jade was seated.

As a woman approached Lia and wordlessly swiped one of the glasses of wine from the tray without so much as a thank you, Lia studied Jade. She’d been seated beside her mother and looked miserable. On her other side and in the four nearest seats across the table were five men Lia assumed were her suitors. Two of them looked old enough to be her father, a third was pasty white and vastly overweight, the fourth was tan-skinned and likely in his thirties, and the last sat just across from her. Lia could only see the back of his head and part of his profile, but he seemed to be the most age-appropriate of the five.

Even as she watched them, one of the oldest men stood suddenly and offered Jade his hand. He was asking her to dance. Lia watched Jade’s lips purse and then contort into a polite smile, but then she shook her head abruptly and went back to her meal, avoiding the flushing man’s eyes. Her mother elbowed her in the side, they exchanged glares, and then Jade heaved a dramatic sigh and stood to go dance with the man. Lia felt sorry for her, but she also found it hard to keep an amused smile from forming on her lips at other girl’s flagrant lack of enthusiasm.

The room was crowded both with servants and guests, whom Lia took the opportunity to use to hide herself from Jade. She took the long way around the room, slipping through clusters of dancers and chatting noblemen, to arrive at the seat that the princess had just abandoned. Ignoring Bethilda’s advice to speak only when addressed first, she noted the tan-skinned man who sat next to Jade had a nearly empty wine glass, and moved to gain his attention. “Excuse me, Sir?” When he turned to her, she offered him the tray. “Wine?”

“Oh, thank you. Your timing is impeccable.” With a smile and an appreciative nod, he exchanged his glass for a newer, fuller one. Lia glanced to the queen and saw her back was turned as she spoke with her husband. Across the table, one of the suitors was engrossed in his meal, and the two others were deep in conversation. She slid a hand into her pocket, grasped the figurine, and then carefully placed it onto the seat of Jade’s chair as she passed it by. When she reached the end of the table and looked back, none of the men seemed any the wiser.

She found a spot near the wall, not far from where Carla, too, was waiting for orders, and rested there, watching the festivities with interest. As the guests continued to finish their meals, more couples slowly joined the dance floor. Jade’s suitor, at last, let her return to her table, and Lia watched her prepare to take a seat, only to see her freeze and then lean down. After a moment, Jade retook her seat, presumably having hidden the figurine, but now her eyes were sharp and searching the room. She found Lia at last and then scowled, unamused, and Lia offered a short wave and a smirk in response.

Jade turned to mutter something to her mother and then rose again, but this time, the queen put a hand on her shoulder to keep her in her seat. Beside her, the king moved to get to his feet, and the music and dancing came to a halt as Henrik announced, “Silence for King Aldis!”

The king lifted his glass as every pair of eyes in the room came to rest on him, and Lia watched as each partygoer who held a drink mimicked his actions.

“Tonight, we’ve gathered to celebrate a new beginning. My daughter has become a woman.” Jade, at his words, seemed to deflate a little, and Lia watched her pick at the food on her plate, her gaze low. “Five men have been gracious enough to vie for her hand, and I have faith that each of them is fully capable of being the man that my daughter needs to help lead our great nation. If you’ll give them your eyes and ears, I’d like to offer them each the chance to speak tonight.” He gestured, then, to the tan-skinned man who’d accepted wine from Lia only moments ago. He seemed to have been expecting this, for he nodded shortly and then rose to his feet as Aldis took his seat.

“Thank you, Your Grace. As many of you may know by now, my name is Tanos. I’ve come here all the way from Astaru, where my older brother will soon rule. I wanted to thank each and every one of you for the hospitality I’ve received since my arrival, and most importantly, I give my thanks to King Aldis, without whom I would never have been given this opportunity. I hope I receive the chance to steer Sperath on its path to greatness, and I believe I will. Thank you.”

Polite clapping met the end of his speech, and when it faded, one of the older suitors went next. The process was slow, and the speeches almost entirely consisted of giving thanks to the king and his subjects. Lia noticed they hardly mentioned Jade at all, something she knew Jade had noticed, too, if her expression was any indication. Even Rolfe, the man Jade had not seemed to dislike quite as much as the others, paid lip service to her father, the queen, and the partygoers rather than to the woman whose hand in marriage he hoped to take.

When the speeches were finally over and the party had resumed, Jade murmured something to her mother and attempted to leave the table again. The queen acquiesced, and this time Jade did not take one of the men at the table to go dance. Instead, she headed straight for Lia.

“Hello, Your Highness,” Lia greeted her, feeling a little somber herself from the speeches. She’d planned to tease Jade about the figurine, but now it felt too inappropriate to do so. “What can I do for you?”

“Must you?” Jade asked, eyes narrowing. She was trying to keep her voice low, but the music made that impossible. Lia noticed Carla watching them curiously. “In front of my mother and the man that gave it to me?”

“You were the one who turned it into a game,” said Lia, a little caught off-guard by what seemed to be genuine hostility. “I just thought I was playing along.”

Jade opened her mouth to argue, and then paused, disgruntled. She closed her mouth. “Fine.”

“Your suitors aren’t as pleasant as I thought they’d be,” Lia noticed, testing the waters. She had a feeling, after their initial conversation and Jade’s reaction to the speeches, that criticism of her marriage prospects was not entirely unwelcome.

“That makes two of us,” said Jade shortly. “I’ve only just managed to learn each of their names.” She cleared her throat, her tone haughty as she continued, “Anyway, I’m surprised to see you were chosen to serve tonight. As new as you are, you’d need a recommendation. Who recommended you?”

“You mean it wasn’t you?” Lia wondered, and Jade laughed derisively.

“No, of course not. I’d be afraid you’d embarrass yourself.”

Lia resisted the urge to scowl at her, and instead suggested, “Perhaps it was Sir Henrik, then. He’s a good man.”

“I heard he recommended you for the job here,” said Jade, and then, at Lia’s confused look, added, “Rather, I overheard him telling my father he knew a girl who could come help out on short notice. He said you were a professional. I was waiting for proof of that, but something tells me that I won’t get it.” She narrowed her eyes, though not unkindly; her expression was curious, and she appeared to be deep in thought. Then she turned, suddenly, to look toward the table where her parents and the suitors were still seated. Lia followed her gaze and saw nothing of interest at first, but then she realized that Henrik and King Aldis had stopped speaking, and that Aldis was watching the two of them, now.

When Jade turned around, she was scowling and her jaw had tensed. She was silent for a moment.

“Perhaps you should give me an order to justify this conversation?” Lia suggested at last, trying to be helpful.

“Are you working for my father?” Jade shot back, folding her arms across her chest. “Because I have a strong suspicion that he was the one who recommended you for this banquet.”

Lia raised her eyebrows, surprised by the sudden change in subject. “Well, by virtue of working at this castle, I suppose I do work for him…” She trailed off, uncertain. “But I don’t know anything about why I was chosen to serve here tonight.”

“So then this was just his doing,” murmured Jade thoughtfully. Before Lia even had time to ask her to elaborate, she pressed her lips into a thin line, gave Lia an almost pitying look, declared, “Lia, my apologies, but I’m afraid we’re not going to be getting along,” and then seized one of the glasses of wine on her tray and upturned it over Lia’s head.

The banquet came to a halt for those nearest them, and Carla hurried forward past several gasping men and women who’d witnessed the event. Lia’s face and shoulders were stained with wine which dripped heavily onto her clothing, and she felt her cheeks burning hotly as Jade turned from her and moved to return to her table. Then Carla grasped at her arm and rushed her away, out of the dining hall and into the safety of the kitchens.

“What on earth did you say to her?” asked Carla, appalled, as she snatched a spare cloth from a countertop and began to rub at Lia’s face with it.

“Nothing, I—” began Lia, and then fell silent, panic welling up within her. Her whole plan hinged on Jade trusting her. Now she would be lucky to keep her job.

To make matters worse, Bethilda arrived as Carla was still trying to clean Lia up, and she was utterly furious. “You have made a mockery of me,” she hissed to Lia. “Remove your clothes and return to your bed at once. Carla, assist her.”

Ashamed, Lia let Carla lead her back to their beds on the other side of the castle, where she helped her change back into her old clothing. Her face was still sticky and smelled of wine, so they went outside to wash her skin and hair clean.

Carla’s only advice was to beg Bethilda not to replace her and to vow to do better in the future, and so when they were finished, Lia anxiously awaited the return of the rest of the girls while Carla dozed beside her. It was nearly midnight by the time they arrived, and Bethilda looked absolutely drained. The instant Lia neared her, she spat out, “Don’t speak to me. King Aldis has requested that I keep you, but you can expect to be doing menial work for the rest of your time here.” She launched into a rant about useless servant girls and ungrateful, bratty princesses, and Lia hardly took any of it in, too concerned with not letting her relief show on her face. When it was over, she returned to her bed with her head bowed.

“You’re being allowed to stay?” a newly-awoken Carla asked, impressed. “If I had a member of the royal family dump wine on my head at a banquet, I think even I’d be removed. And they’ve let me get away with quite a lot here by now.”

“She said the king wants me here,” Lia mumbled. She was confident Henrik had exerted his influence, and felt ashamed that he’d had to bail her out of trouble so soon. She hoped Kaleb was faring better with his own duties.

“He and his daughter don’t get along,” said Carla. “So it’s no wonder he’d like someone she doesn’t. Funny, though; I could’ve sworn you and the princess were going to get along quite well.”

“Yes, I remember,” said Lia stiffly, and tucked herself into bed for the night. This time, when she slid her hands beneath her pillow, there was no figurine hidden in her pillowcase. She expected to feel relief at the realization, but instead her stomach twisted unpleasantly and she felt nervous all over again. Having Jade play games with her was preferable to having her dislike her. And what was worse was that she wasn’t even sure what she’d done to be disliked in the first place. But what she did know, at least, was that it was imperative she find out, and that the only way to do that was to speak to Jade herself.

6

Five more days passed before Lia found the time to sneak out to see Kaleb.

During that time, she had no contact with anyone outside of the few women she shared a room with, Jade included. The figurine did not reappear at night, and she was relegated to scrubbing the dirtiest floors in the castle each day. It was miserable work, and it put Carla in a foul mood as well, as she was instructed to share in whatever work was assigned to Lia.

She received two hours’ break alone with Carla in their room one evening, and so she told Carla she was going to go outside and sit out in the sun for a few minutes. When she received Carla’s approval, she instead headed out to the stables, careful to avoid being seen until she could be sure that Kaleb was alone with the horses, as he appeared to be. He lit up at the sight of her and immediately set aside the brush he’d been using on a brown mare.

“Come this way,” he offered, glancing around them to ensure that no one was nearby. When she obeyed, he led her to the back of the stables, where they were properly hidden. She collapsed into his arms with a heavy sigh the second he allowed her, and he patted her back uncomfortably, clearly caught off-guard, as he asked, “Is everything alright?”

“I’ve messed everything up,” she told him, pulling away. “And I’m not even sure how.”

“What do you mean? Have you spoken to the girl yet?”

“Oh, yes, I’ve spoken to her,” Lia huffed. “The first time she was friendlier than I’d ever imagined she’d be, and I discovered that she’s hidden from her father that she’s nearly a perfect shot with a bow, which means that she can defend herself.”

“That’s perfect!” said Kaleb. “So why do you seem so upset?”

“Well, the second time I spoke to her, she told me she didn’t believe that we were going to get along and then dumped wine on my head in the middle of a banquet.”

Kaleb’s eyes widened. “Wait. She dumped wine on your head? What did you say to her?”

“Nothing! I…” She paused, sighed, and then admitted, “She gave me a gift on my first day and I refused to accept it. Then she had it snuck down to my quarters. I returned it at the banquet and… maybe that upset her? But I thought it was a game; I—”

“She probably thought it was rude,” Kaleb guessed. “I’d expect princesses to be petty, but even so, that seems like a bit of an overreaction.”

“It was a gift one of her suitors gave her. If I’d have been caught with it, I’d be out of the castle regardless. So there was no right choice. The only reason I’m still here now is because her father asked to have me kept, which I’m sure was Henrik’s doing.”

“Why would she give you a gift like that?” asked Kaleb.

“She doesn’t think very highly of her suitors. I assumed she thought it was a funny joke, giving a servant girl a gift meant for a princess. That was why I didn’t see the big deal in returning it.”

“You’ll have to make amends with her, you know.” Kaleb looked disappointed in her. She let out a long breath and nodded, closing her eyes. “Whatever it takes. She has to trust you.”

“Perhaps I should just tell her the truth,” suggested Lia, but Kaleb immediately shook his head.

“It’s too early to try to pry her away from her courtship, and we’re meant to wait to see if anyone here isn’t who they seem to be. Have you seen anything or anyone strange in the castle?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking. There are certainly some strange people, but no one I imagine would want to hurt her.”

“Strange people?” Kaleb’s eyebrows furrowed. “Like whom?”

“Well, there’s a servant boy that’s been here for years, Sivan, and there are rumors that he’s involved with her. He showed up in her room with a sad excuse to be there.”

“Perhaps that explains why she doesn’t want to marry any of her suitors,” suggested Kaleb. “Try to find out more. I’ll look around, too. Have you heard anything else?”

Lia bit her lip for a moment, and then shook her head. “No, not anything else,” she lied.

“Well, start with making amends and go from there. You’ll have to get back into her good graces. Our plan doesn’t work otherwise. She has to want to come with us.” She nodded and he opened his arms for another hug, which she obliged. When they parted, he added, “Good luck. I have faith in you, Lia. You can do this.”

“I hope so,” she mumbled, and left him behind.

Kaleb’s advice was still fresh in Lia’s mind that night, as she changed into her nightclothes and took her usual spot on the bed next to Carla’s. She had no clue how she’d ever get close enough to Jade again to get the chance to apologize for whatever it was she’d done wrong, let alone how she’d manage to convince the woman to forgive her. Fixing the mess she’d found herself in seemed nearly impossible.

Carla’s only advice was to keep her head down and avoid making waves in order to keep herself employed, but without knowing Lia’s true identity and intentions, any suggestions Carla had were essentially useless. And with limited access to both Kaleb and Henrik, Lia was almost entirely on her own.

As the last of the candles were being snuffed throughout the bedroom, several of the girls suddenly gave a start. Their gasps caught Lia’s attention, and she turned to see them all watching Sivan, who stood in their doorway but looked very embarrassed to have found himself there.

“It’s after lights-out; you’re not meant to be here,” Bethilda snapped, moving toward him as though she was going to forcibly remove him herself. “What if one of us hadn’t been decent?” Sivan just nodded shortly at her, red-faced.

“Sorry, ma’am, but I’ve been given orders. Lia is to come with me.”

The attention in the room shifted toward Lia, and she looked around uncertainly, and then at Sivan. “Me?” she echoed. “Why?”

“I can explain outside.” He beckoned her over, and when Bethilda didn’t protest, Lia rose and went to him. They left the room and Sivan shut the door behind them. At once, he set off down the corridor, leaving Lia to hurry after him even as she grew more confused by the second.

“Wait a minute. What’s going on?”

Sivan spoke without slowing his pace. “Every night, Jade requires the help of a handmaiden in her quarters. Her usual help was unavailable. My apologies for the late retrieval; there was a… delay.”

“Why would she ask me? She doesn’t like me.”

“I’m sure she’ll answer that question to your satisfaction.” He reached the door to Jade’s bedroom and Lia slowed to a stop behind him. “Try not to linger,” he warned, and then strode past her, back in the direction they’d come. Lia stared at his back until he was gone.

The door in front of her was closed, and she spent several seconds gathering the courage to knock, fearing what awaited her inside. Perhaps Jade had called her up to make amends. Or perhaps she was in for another incident similar to the one at the banquet. Regardless, Kaleb had been right in saying that she’d need to do whatever was necessary to get back into Jade’s good graces.

She knocked on the door.

A long moment passed, and then it swung open and Jade stared out at her, looking much calmer than Lia had anticipated. She didn’t sound hostile at all as she offered, “Come in,” and there was no aggression or malice in the way the door was gently shut behind Lia.

A nightgown was laid flat on Jade’s bed, and she was clad only in undergarments, including a corset which she tugged at uncomfortably even as she motioned for Lia to join her beside the bed. It was laced in the back and had a series of buttons down the front, and it didn’t look comfortable.

“My favorite fashion perk of being a noblewoman is getting to wear the dresses,” said Jade conversationally, watching Lia come closer. “My least favorite are these. Unfortunately, they tend to go with the dresses.” She tugged at the bottom of the corset again with a sigh. “Every night I have to have help to remove it, and my personal handmaiden is otherwise occupied at the moment.”

Lia paused in front of her, confused. “You had me come here to help unlace your corset?”

“Someone has to in her absence,” replied Jade. “May as well be you.” She seemed amused when Lia stared at her, speechless. “Or should I get someone else…?”

“Five days ago you humiliated me and endangered my job. Am I supposed to just ignore that?” Briefly, her head reminded her that yes, she was meant to do whatever it took to placate Jade, and she made a considerable effort to rein herself in and avoid saying more.

“That wasn’t about you, and I apologized for that even as I did it.” Jade sounded far too casual for Lia’s liking. “That was a test for my father. He failed it. But I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re a pawn and mean no harm, so again, I apologize.”

“And now I’m entirely lost,” Lia declared, frustrated.

Jade heaved a sigh. “My father and I do not get along. I thought he might have had an ulterior motive for approving your hiring. I tested this theory and proved myself right, given that he’s pushed to keep you around and has seemed much happier with me these past five days. I wanted to wait until some time had passed to speak to you again, for his benefit.”

Lia studied her, trying to keep her expression even. Did Jade have some sort of idea about her real identity? Or was she clueless and falsely attributing Henrik’s assistance to her father? “And what was your theory?” she asked carefully. “About why your father hired me?”

“Oh, I’m not sure I should answer that yet,” said Jade with a grin, which only left Lia even more befuddled. “But, again… I really am sorry for dumping wine on your head. I needed him to think that I dislike you. On the contrary, I like you quite a bit so far, but he likes to keep the servants that don’t get along with me and remove the ones who enjoy my company.” She turned around even as she spoke, gesturing toward the lacing of her corset, and it occurred to Lia, suddenly, that she’d never unlaced a corset before and she had no clue how to do so. Panicked, she stared, and then tried to distract Jade by prolonging their conversation.

She reached for the lacing and pulled at random as she asked, “Why would your father get rid of the servants you like?”

“It’s one of many ways he keeps control of me. He’ll probably choose the man I marry, as well.”

“You think he’ll choose whom you marry just because he chooses your servants?” questioned Lia. “I don’t see how you’d draw that conclusion.” She paused and her fingers stilled against the lacing. Jade’s logic made much greater sense if the rumor Carla had mentioned was true, given that it’d mean Aldis had shown himself willing to control his daughter’s love life through the acquisition and removal of her servants.

She shook it off and resumed her work, trying not to jump to conclusions. Sivan had come to collect her, and she suspected he’d actually been the one to place the marble figurine in her pillow as well, given that Jade seemed to trust him, it was unlikely she’d be willing to place it herself, and he’d been determined to avoid Lia’s eyes at breakfast the following morning. If there was a rumor with any merit to it, it was the one that involved Jade and Sivan.

“It makes sense if you know my father,” Jade explained. “I try to cling to what little autonomy I have left, at least. Thankfully he lets me explore my interests. Well… some of them. The archery would upset him, to say the least, but I’ve been permitted to try horseback riding, sewing, painting…”

“You paint?” Lia tugged the corset apart in the back, hoping she’d done her job correctly, and was pleased when it was loose enough to part. Jade’s arms shot up to press the front of the corset to her chest, holding it there before it could slip down, and Lia’s face grew hot as she rushed to say, “I’m sorry; I should have warned you.”

“That’s okay.” Jade turned around to face her, arms still pressed to the corset, and admitted, “I’m surprised you knew how to do that.”

“Me too,” Lia admitted distractedly, looking everywhere but at the woman in front of her.

Jade laughed at her response. “So you won’t even try to pretend that you know what you’re doing?”

“I was under the impression that you were already aware that I don’t, and that it didn’t matter anyway.”

“I was. It was what helped me figure out what my father was up to so quickly. Hiring a girl without ensuring she’d be good at all aspects of her job isn’t like him, even if Henrik did recommend you.”

“And what is your father up to? Or have you decided you won’t tell me?” Lia guessed, finally meeting her gaze at last. “You have to pretend to dislike me or I’ll lose my job? That seems rather juvenile unless there’s some sort of precedent for it that actually has merit.”

“Is that your way of asking if any of the rumors are true?” asked Jade, arching an eyebrow.

Lia was stunned. “You know?”

“If you’re asking whether or not I’ve heard the rumors: Yes, of course. This castle doesn’t seem nearly as large when you’ve spent your whole life in it, and gossip spreads quickly here. Even when Carla’s the only one spreading it.” She gave Lia a knowing smile. “And if you’re asking whether or not I was aware that you’d heard them: I assumed you had, given your assignment to Carla’s side, but your line of questioning certainly helped to make it clear.”

“So, then…” Lia struggled for words, suddenly overly aware that Jade’s corset was still being held to her body and that there was a row of buttons meant to be undone in its front, “…are either of them true?”

“Well, what do you think?” Jade asked the question conversationally, as if they weren’t discussing her sexual exploits and instead were speaking about the weather outside.

“You haven’t exactly given me much to go on,” Lia admitted. “You send Sivan to come get me, and then he’s in your quarters with cheese as an excuse. Not to mention the figurine that he most certainly placed in my pillow for you. The figurine I sincerely hope you don’t intend to gift me with again, by the way.” She sighed, and watched another slow smile form on Jade’s lips. “Well, it seems unlikely that you’d send your secret lover to bring a gift to your newest servant conquest, so I think I can rule out both being true, as they seem to be pretty mutually exclusive. Beyond that, I can’t be sure.”

“Not even a guess?” asked Jade, leadingly.

“You’re enjoying this,” Lia noticed. “Does that mean neither is true?”

“Is that your guess?”

Lia heaved a sigh. “I’ve no clue, honestly. Can I have a hint? Has your father heard both of these rumors?”

“Yes, he has. Carla isn’t nearly as clever as she thinks she is. Nor is she subtle,” Jade explained. “You aren’t the first girl who’s come along and been given the gift of her theory about me.”

“So then perhaps he removes the servants you like just in case it’s true. But then why doesn’t he get rid of Sivan?”

She’d asked the question without expecting an answer, but Jade replied, “My mother is fond of Sivan. My father has tried many times to sway her.”

“So does anyone know the absolute truth?”

“Sivan and the young, attractive female servants, I suppose, were they ever to compare notes,” Jade replied, smirking. “The latter of which were all removed after I bedded them, of course.”

“By your father, who may or may not be paranoid,” added Lia. And then she realized, “And you believe he’s allowed me to come here as a test. You’re getting married. He wants to know if you’re still harboring other interests beyond your future husband.”

“Embarrassing, isn’t it?” sighed Jade. “I may be bedding my female servants, or perhaps I’m in love with another man. The scandal!”

“You’re clearly enjoying this,” Lia repeated, amused, and then glanced toward the door. “As enlightening as this has been, Sivan advised me not to linger. If there’s anything else I can do for you, or anything more you want to tell me, you should do it now.”

“Sivan’s just looking out for you. He’s a good man. You honestly don’t need to rush. My father may not listen to me, but Bethilda will keep quiet about your late return if I ask it of her.”

“You know this from experience? Have you had other late-night visits from servant girls?” asked Lia, half-teasing, and Jade grinned her widest grin yet.

“Flirting isn’t going to get you an answer, Lia, but I commend you for trying.” Lia felt herself warm again and did not reply. Jade’s smile faded as she studied her. “If you’d like to go,” she said at last, “you may go. Normally I’d have help with the buttons as well, but I can remove this myself.”

Lia shook her head. “I’m a servant all the same. You’re meant to treat me as one.” She reached out before she could talk herself out of it and fumbled with the bottom button for a moment, her gloved hands making it harder to undo. Jade seemed uncomfortable, but let her work her way through the bottom half of the buttons while Jade’s hands remained pressed to the sides of the corset to keep it up.

At the last three buttons, Lia hesitated. She’d changed often in the presence of the other servant girls over the course of the past week, and they too had done the same, but this, for some reason, did not feel quite so casual.

She moved to press forward anyway, but Jade stepped away from her abruptly and spun around, murmuring, “I can do the rest on my own.” And then, before Lia could find an appropriate reply, the buttons were undone and the corset was off, and Jade was pulling her nightgown on, her back to Lia all the while. “You should go,” she added, and Lia left in a hurry with little fanfare, eager to return to the safety of her bed, where she did not feel quite so unexplainably nervous.

“Tell me about the five men,” Lia requested of Carla the following morning as they swept the kitchen floors together. “I don’t know anything about them other than what they look like and what they said in their speeches, most of which was just thanking everyone but Jade for giving them the chance to marry her.” Lia was unable to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the reminder. “Do you know where they’re all from? I know Tanos mentioned Astaru, didn’t he?”

“Of course,” said Carla. She had an air of ambivalence about her, as though she couldn’t have cared less about sharing the details of Jade’s suitors, but Lia saw through it when she added, “And you’ll tell me about last night, in return?”

“Your gossip is going to get you into trouble eventually, you know,” Lia warned, and that earned her a grin from the older woman.

“But it hasn’t yet. And you seem to like my gossip just fine when it’s something you want to know about. Like the suitors.”

“For what it’s worth, I’ll say that I’ve changed my mind about what you told me. I think your rumor may have some merit.” Lia turned away at Carla’s curious expression and pretended to be particularly concerned with a dust bunny in the nearest corner. “About the princess, I mean.”

“What did she say to you last night?”

“It wasn’t what you’re imagining, I’m sure.”

Carla set her broom aside. “So she fancies you, then. This engagement must have her losing her mind; I’ve never seen her so back and forth on one girl. So how was your time with her?”

Lia dismissed the question with a roll of her eyes. “Has it ever occurred to you that even if you’re right, I’m not interested?”

“No. She’s nobility, and she’s a beautiful woman. Even a woman who swoons at the mere sight of a man would struggle to reject her, I would think.”

“Well, I think maybe you don’t fancy men quite as much as you think you do, then.”

Carla gave a chuckle. “I’ve known her since she was a child. I could never.”

“But not because she’s a woman?”

“Perhaps if I’d only just met her, and if she found me attractive, I would be willing.”

“Then you and I are very different people. I work for her. It would be unprofessional.”

“Oh, so that’s the reason you’d reject her? Not due to a lack of interest?”

“Tell me about the men,” Lia repeated through gritted teeth.

Carla gave a disapproving cluck of her tongue. “The princess won’t push you, but she rarely doesn’t get what she wants. You’re either very naïve or very brave.”

“The men, Carla,” Lia pressed, prodding hard at the ground with her broom and avoiding Carla’s eyes. She was thankful when the other woman allowed the subject to change.

“Oh, fine. There’s Tanos, as you know: the handsome one with the darker skin. He’s one of the youngest. Thirty-three years old, I believe, and he’s from Astaru. Phillip is older; in his forties. He’s from Xosium, so of course he’s going to play dirty; the lot of them are thieves and cheats. I assume you aren’t from Xosium, by the way. Apologies if you are.” Lia shot her a look, irked, but motioned for her to continue. “Rumor has it that he stole the pendant he gave to Jade from a merchant on his way here.”

“You and your rumors,” murmured Lia. Carla continued as though she hadn’t heard.

“The other one that looks older is Hughes. You saw our lovely princess dancing with him just before she stained your hair and clothes for the night.” Lia ignored Carla’s sly smile. “He’s from Proskent. And then there’s Rolfe, the youngest. He’s from Muthwole, and he’s quite attractive, if I may. And the pasty, clumsy-looking one is Vincent, from Kedlen. He wrote her a poem when he first arrived. I heard it was rather awful.”

“Why are they all so much older?” wondered Lia. “Can’t they find someone more age-appropriate for her?”

Carla gave her an odd look. “It’s common for princesses to marry up in age. Even Jade’s own parents are a dozen years apart. Her mother was courted just as Jade is being courted now. King Aldis is originally from Reive.”

“I suppose I never bothered to pay attention before,” Lia muttered, and then, eager to move on, added, “What if she decides she doesn’t like any of them?”

“I’m sure that she doesn’t,” said Carla with a dry laugh. “But her fate was sealed from the moment she was born. She’s meant to marry a nobleman and lead Sperath.”

“What if she doesn’t want to?”

“Again, it’s quite likely that she doesn’t. But she has a duty to the people of Sperath. And besides: what else would she possibly do with her life?”

“I don’t know,” replied Lia with a shrug of her shoulders, feigning ignorance. “It’s just sad that she doesn’t seem to have a choice.”

“She gets to have everything she could ever want, having been born into royalty. And she does have a choice. She gets to choose the man she rules with.” Carla paused, and looked to be doubting herself for a moment. “Well, assuming she truly gets to choose the man herself. I imagine her parents will have a say. If you ask me, it’ll come down to Hughes or Tanos. Vincent is a mess of a man, Phillip has an awful reputation, and I imagine Rolfe will be too immature compared to the rest.”

“But he’s practically the same age as you,” Lia pointed out, incredulous. “Would you call yourself immature? You’re an awful gossip, but certainly not immature, I wouldn’t think.”

“Well, thank you, but I’m not being considered to lead a nation.”

“Yet Jade is, and she’s only eighteen.”

“She still has a few more years to grow up. Lose a few bad habits along the way, if she knows what’s good for her.” Carla gave her a wink and a smile. “And besides, she isn’t a man, so she has an advantage there. Women are wise beyond their years.”

“Men can be mature when they want to be,” argued Lia, thinking of Kaleb. He had his moments, but far more often than not she considered him to be much wiser than herself.

“You’d think so. But wait until you have to spend time in the company of one of those five. Jade has a difficult decision to make.” Carla shook her head and reached out for her broom. “And I don’t mean that kindly.”

7

It took only another week of roaming the castle with Carla and the other servants before Lia had her second strange dream. She recognized that she was within the hallways of Thesp’s castle from the days she’d spent keeping them tidy, but in her dream she navigated them with a confidence she’d yet to acquire while awake, turning corners and climbing staircases without getting lost or having to double back.

Eventually, she reached a door with a silver handle at the end of a hallway and pushed it open, revealing an unfamiliar room. It was some sort of library, filled with rows and rows of books and scrolls. Lia wound her way through the stacks until she’d reached a shelf at the back left corner of the room. She scanned the shelf for a book on the third row, found a thick text titled Eveinian Flora, and removed it from the shelf.

With one hand, she flipped past several dozen pages and settled on the eighty-seventh, where her finger slid from the top of the page to the paragraph at the very bottom. There, a small sentence had been underlined with black ink: “The Victoria is often considered to be the most beautiful of Sperathian water lilies, and has been known to support large amounts of weight despite its delicate nature.” She studied the sentence for a moment, then let out a soft chuckle and replaced the book, turning away to leave the library.

Lia’s dream ended there. She stared up at the ceiling over her head once she’d awoken, her mind racing as she tried to cling to the details of the dream. Like the dream she’d had of the hooded woman, this dream, too, felt differently from the ones she was used to. And if she was right, and her dream had been a memory from her past, then this was not her first time living amongst Sperathian nobility in Thesp. She recalled the way that the queen’s eyes—eyes which were eerily similar to Jade’s—had seemed so familiar to her when she’d first seen her portrait, and a chill ran down her spine.

She ran through the dream again, struggling to recall the maze of halls and stairways she’d passed on her way to the library. If she could find the library, the book, and the underlined passage, she’d have proof that her dream had been a memory. She’d finally have some concrete knowledge of her own past, something she’d been longing for since the day she’d awoken in Lemn.

But she doubted she’d seen even half of the castle so far in her short time working there, and she also doubted she’d be able to find the library without help. She couldn’t ask Carla without arousing suspicion, given that servants were largely discouraged from wandering the castle, and she hardly saw Kaleb or Henrik, each of whom she imagined would just tell her to focus on potential threats to Jade and not on uncovering her own past anyway. To them, her duties as a Seer would always come first.

But over a fortnight had passed and the largest threat to Jade and her impending marriage thus far—with the exception of Lia and Kaleb, who wished to whisk her away—was Jade herself. Lia saw nothing wrong with taking a small detour into rediscovering who she’d been before the loss of her memory. She’d just have to find the time to do it undetected. The guards roamed the halls at night, and she rarely had enough free time during the day to meet with Kaleb in secret, let alone to search the castle for a room she’d never visited.

And yet, somehow, Lia knew she wouldn’t be able to resist trying.

The next time Lia saw Jade, it was because she’d been quite ironically tasked with pouring the wine at a small picnic arranged by Tanos on the castle grounds. A male servant joined her, as Tanos had requested someone bring out a wicker basket of pre-prepared food and a quilt, and a second man stood nearby, playing a violin.

Lia assumed that the five suitors had moved on to private dates in the courting process, for the massive group outings like the banquet had been exchanged for several, much smaller ones as of late, according to Carla, who’d already served at two others herself. Lia had not yet had the chance to get confirmation from Jade.

She hadn’t been called to Jade’s room again after the first night, and though she knew the lack of contact between them didn’t help with her mission as a Seer, she was thankful that she was being given time to focus on finding the library. Now that enough time had passed, she was frequently being allowed to complete her duties on her own, and every so often, she took an extra few minutes to look around the castle for a silver-handled door at the end of a hallway. It was only a matter of time before she found it.

“More wine, please.”

She was pulled from her thoughts by the request from Jade, who offered her a thin smile and raised her glass expectantly in Lia’s direction. Lia nodded shortly and moved toward her, bottle in hand. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“When you’re finished with that glass, I’d love a dance,” said Tanos, and promptly finished off the rest of his own wine.

“Of course,” Jade agreed. Lia watched her carefully for the next minute, and noted that she drank the glass of wine much more slowly than she had her previous glass.

Even despite the uncomfortable tension that had developed between herself and the other woman, Lia again found herself struggling to hide her amusement. Jade’s unending distaste for her marriage prospects was a constant source of entertainment for both Lia and Carla, and it also gave Lia hope that when the time did come to reveal herself to Jade, the woman would leave willingly. She had little incentive to stay, after all, beyond a sense of duty, provided she genuinely didn’t have a romantic relationship tying her to the castle. And given the way she’d behaved when they’d last spoken, Lia strongly believed she’d been mistaken in her suspicions of Jade’s relationship with Sivan. If there was something going on between them, they’d certainly fooled her.

“Wander the grounds, or whatever it is you can do that doesn’t involve staying here,” Tanos ordered Lia after he’d offered his hand to Jade and she’d accepted. They stood, presumably to dance, and both Lia and the other servant looked to Jade for confirmation. Jade looked displeased, but could hardly correct Tanos without offending him.

“Be back within the hour,” she told them instead. “If a guard stops you, tell him I’m busy with Tanos and that he’s welcome to bring you back here and interrupt if he’d like.”

With her freedom granted, Lia took Tanos’s advice and strolled across the castle grounds while the male servant went inside to rest. She’d have preferred to use the time to find the library, but she doubted she’d have more than twenty minutes, and that wouldn’t be enough. The smarter choice was to try to use the time to catch up with Kaleb, but she was hesitant to attempt that as well, given that she wasn’t sure he’d be at the stables.

She found a wooden bench across the courtyard, for the time being, where she sat alone for a moment and collected herself. She could see Jade and Tanos swaying together several dozen yards away, the violin faint in the distance, but found it too difficult to watch for very long. Jade’s distaste for her suitors was often humorous in nature, certainly, but as Lia removed her right glove and studied the mark on her hand, she found the idea of being bound to an unchosen duty more sobering than amusing.

She swallowed heavily and replaced her glove, then stood to go find Kaleb, praying he’d be outside.

He was. They huddled in the back of the stables together, much like they had during their first meeting, and for a moment, Lia let herself relax. Kaleb had not been someone she associated with safety, even despite his promise to protect her, but at least with him she could drop her guard for just a moment. They sat together, hidden by several bales of hay, and Kaleb told her, “I ran into that guard captain we were warned about today. Arin. He’s quite the nasty fellow. Sure, he caught me snooping through Josef’s desk, but I thought my excuse was fairly believable.”

“Did you find anything?” she asked him, and then, curious, added, “What were you looking for?”

“I don’t know. Anything strange, I suppose. I saw Arin accept a stack of letters from Cassius yesterday at the front of the grounds and thought perhaps I’d find something addressed to Josef in his desk, but that wasn’t the case. Everything seemed normal. But that Sivan man stopped by the other day and I found him not far from my bed. He claimed Josef had sent him to tell me to clean the stables, so I did it. Then not an hour later Josef sent me to do it again, and seemed surprised when I said I’d already done it. I didn’t ask him about Sivan directly, but maybe I should have.”

“So you think Sivan lied to you,” said Lia. “What do you think he was really doing?”

“Probably snooping around, same as me. It could be nothing. He could even be looking out for Jade himself, if the rumors about the two of them are true.”

“Or even if they aren’t. He still works for her.”

“I assume he suspects me of something,” said Kaleb. “So it only seems fair that I return the favor. What’s been going on on your end?”

“Just the usual duties,” lied Lia. She felt badly for keeping secrets from Kaleb, but nothing she could share with him would help them. She didn’t want to argue with him about the Sivan rumors, and she had no intention of sharing her dream, either, for fear he would dissuade her from pursuing it.

“Really? Nothing at all?” Kaleb pressed. Lia was saved from answering by a loud shout from just outside the stable.

“Kaleb! Are you in there?”

Kaleb stood hastily and motioned for her to remain quiet. “That’s Josef,” he whispered. “Stay here.” Louder, he added, “Yes, I’m here,” and moved out from their hiding place, presumably to join the stablemaster. Their voices carried from just outside.

“I need to know if you’ve seen anything suspicious today. Any strange visitors coming and going, or anyone anywhere that they shouldn’t have been.”

“No, I don’t think so. Why? Has something happened?”

“Vincent and Rolfe have both fallen ill. It’s likely just an unfortunate coincidence, but we’ve been told to keep watch regardless. You know how paranoid these nobles are.”

“Will they be alright?”

“I have no idea. I was only told that they’re sick. They don’t know what it is yet.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.” There was a brief pause. “I guess I should get back to work.”

“Of course. Come report to me when you’re finished.”

Lia listened for Josef’s footsteps to fade, and when she could no longer hear him, Kaleb returned to her. His expression was grim. “I heard,” she told him before he could ask. A sinking feeling had already made its way into the pit of her stomach.

“Are we both wondering the same thing?” Kaleb asked her.

“And what’s that?”

He gave her a pained look and ran a hand through his hair. Like her, he seemed to not want to say it aloud. “If perhaps someone in the castle could be eliminating suitors? That this isn’t just a coincidence, but the beginning of something bigger?”

She let out a heavy breath. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“We have our work cut out for us.” Kaleb offered his hand, and she let him help her to her feet. “We can’t sit back any longer. I’ll look into Sivan. This could be nothing, but more likely someone’s trying to influence the outcome of this courtship. If not Sincaeles, then perhaps a scorned lover like Sivan who doesn’t want to see her married off at all. I think the guard captain is worth looking into as well; if someone needed to sneak in and out of the castle undetected to poison these men, he’d be a good friend for them to have.”

Lia nodded her agreement, but the feeling in her stomach worsened even as Kaleb led her outside. She had an inkling that perhaps the most unfortunate solution was also the correct one: that the power-hungry suitors may have been the “those of wicked intent” mentioned by the Oracle, but that Sincaeles had an agent within the castle, too.

By noon the following day, Vincent had been removed from the castle and sent on his way back to Kedlen.

The news traveled around the castle slowly, reached Carla, and then spread like wildfire. Lia found herself being filled in during a quick break in the afternoon, when Carla told the story to several of the girls all at once in their quarters.

“I’ve been told that a few of the male servants have been assigned to poor Rolfe; he’s been retching for over a day now. But he’s at least starting to feel better. It was Vincent who got it the worst. Apparently the entire kitchen staff is in hot water; they think it could’ve been the food because of the vomiting.”

“Then why isn’t anyone else sick?” Lia asked. Carla shrugged her shoulders.

“Maybe they think it was just bad luck? But if you ask me, they should look into Phillip. He’d be the type to play dirty.”

“My mother’s from Xosium, you know,” one of the other girls chimed in, offended. “They’re not all liars and cheats.”

“It’s only a suggestion. Rumors are rumors for a reason.”

“Because they’re started by gossips like you!” another girl laughed out, and a chorus of giggles followed the sheepish smile Carla shot her.

The castle was on edge over the course of the following week as the circumstances around Vincent’s departure and Rolfe’s illness were investigated.

On the same day that a bad batch of bread was finally deemed the culprit and several members of the kitchen staff were fired as a result, Sivan came to Lia’s quarters in the afternoon, searching for her on behalf of Jade. He looked entirely unenthused at having been sent to collect her, and though Lia was uncertain as she followed him, she couldn’t help but be glad for the opportunity to pick the other woman’s brain. She wanted to hear her thoughts on the strange events of the week, and hoped that perhaps she had noticed something suspicious about the suitors or servants lately, given that she tended to have freer rein of the castle and its grounds than Lia ever would.

What she didn’t anticipate, however, was that she’d have to ask her questions while helping Jade through another archery session.

The target, bow, and quiver of arrows were waiting for them when they arrived in the garden, likely curtesy of the male servant Lia had stumbled upon with Jade when they’d first met, but the servant himself was nowhere to be found. Lia, instead, was given the quiver to hold and made to hand Jade an arrow each time she requested one.

“My father’s in a meeting with Henrik this afternoon,” Jade told her, frowning when an arrow struck the second ring of the target, several inches from the bullseye. “It should last at least another hour or so. Unfortunately, I’ll be forced to attend an awkward supper with him, my mother, and my four favorite men afterward.” She rolled her eyes and then pulled the bowstring back, focusing for a moment before she let another arrow fly. This one buried itself in the outermost ring. Jade scowled. “My aim is terrible today.”

“So Rolfe’s feeling much better, then,” Lia guessed, hoping to steer the conversation in the direction of his illness.

“Thankfully. I’d have hated to see Rolfe go. At least I can actually hold a conversation with him.” Jade’s eyes didn’t leave the target as she held out her hand for another arrow.

“It seems strange that bad bread nearly rid you of two of your suitors,” said Lia carefully. “Are they certain that that’s what it was?”

“Well, Henrik has his suspicions, from what I’ve heard, but Arin seems certain.” Jade didn’t seem bothered, and glanced to Lia with a shrug of her shoulders.

Inwardly, Lia huffed, annoyed that she’d have to press harder. “So then you don’t think that it was done on purpose?” she tried.

That gave Jade pause, and she lowered her bow and turned to Lia, a somewhat amused smile on her lips. “Well, if it was, I’ll have to thank the perpetrator. I could never marry a man who writes bad poetry.”

“I’m serious,” insisted Lia. “If I were you, I’d be concerned. What about the other suitors? Or the servants? One of them must seem like the kind of person who’d sabotage your courtship.”

Jade turned away with a quiet chuckle. “Yes, maybe it’s the strange new stable boy. You know, I was walking across the grounds with Tanos the other day and I could’ve sworn I saw him praying in the stables. With the horses.”

“Fine,” huffed Lia. “You don’t suspect anyone. I was only wondering. Curiosity sated.”

“Now that I mention him, though, do you know anything about the stable boy?” asked Jade. “I heard you two arrived here on the same day.”

Lia shrugged. “I’ve spoken briefly with him. He seems kind enough.”

“Well, he’s clearly very devout. It’s strange.”

“So then you must not be,” Lia guessed, curious. “Devout, that is.”

“I’ve never given it much thought. I’ve had enough to worry about without contemplating whether or not some higher power is watching over me.” Jade released another arrow and hit the target dead in its center. She grinned, pleased with herself, as she added, “Though I suppose I should start forming an opinion soon.”

“And why is that?”

“Well…” Jade glanced behind them, toward the path that led into the gardens, and only continued when she’d confirmed that they were still alone. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but when my father hasn’t been fixated on my courtship, he spends his time discussing the death of Emperor Levian, and who exactly should be Levian’s successor. Of course, most would agree that it should be whoever the next Seer chooses, but if for some reason that never comes to fruition, someone will eventually have to replace him. Ideally not until after his killer is caught, provided he’s caught at all… but even so, my father does love to discuss it.”

“Your father wants to lead Eveinia?” asked Lia, trying to hide her interest.

“Not at all. I think he’d like for me to lead, actually. Which is part of the reason why he’s so invested in whom I marry.” Jade’s tone was one of distaste, and she shook her head as she accepted another arrow from Lia.

“You disagree?” Lia guessed, grimacing inwardly.

“Of course! It’ll be hard enough leading Sperath, let alone eleven other nations. I’ve never had a strong opinion on the whole ‘Seer-chosen emperor’ rule before, but if there was ever a time I’d like for a Seer to choose, it would be now. My father’s going to make a fan of the Divines out of me; I’m certain of it. Perhaps the stable boy can teach me how to pray properly when he isn’t busy tampering with the food, eh?” Jade shot her a grin and Lia sighed.

“Be serious for one moment and pretend that something bigger might be happening here,” she pleaded. “You’ve just said yourself that your father is toying with the idea of you becoming the emperor. It’s not exactly out of the realm of possibility that someone could be trying to influence who you marry, is it? You might not want to be emperor, but if you were, your husband would have a lot of power.”

Jade’s smile faded and she eyed Lia curiously. “You’re very astute for a servant girl who isn’t very good at her job, aren’t you?” she asked. “And very nosy.”

“I work for you,” Lia reminded her. “As I see it, that means I’m supposed to be looking out for you. It’s not exactly the worst use of my time.”

“Hmm. Perhaps not, but I can think of a few better uses,” Jade decided. She turned and nocked another arrow, and Lia bit down on the inside of her cheek to suppress a smile, instead shooting the other girl an aggravated look. Jade, either oblivious to Lia’s reaction or pretending to be, added, “I suppose I can throw a fit and have the guards do a sweep of a few of my least favorite suitors and servants. Perhaps tomorrow, during my dates. Just for you.” With that, she let the arrow fly.

That night, the library dream returned. Lia watched herself walk down a long hallway to a staircase, climb the stairs, and then wind through a series of corridors she had to struggle to memorize. By the time she’d reached the silver-handled door, she knew she’d lost track. Again, she went to the book on flora, and again, the sentence about the water lily was underlined.

She woke up feeling helpless, and rolled onto her side to stare at Carla’s back as the older woman slept. Carla had lived in the castle as a girl and would know its hallways and rooms like the back of her own hand. She’d know exactly where to find the library, if only Lia could think of a valid excuse to ask about it.

But after Vincent’s departure she couldn’t afford to stick her neck out for anything that wasn’t what they’d come for. She needed to be keeping an eye out for threats to Jade, not a door with a silver handle.

The library, she decided, would just have to wait.

“Eat.”

Lia looked up from her untouched plate and across the table at an expectant Carla, who watched her with one eyebrow raised.

“You’re being paranoid,” Carla added. “I’ve watched you do this every day for the past week at every meal I’ve managed to coax you into coming to.”

“Wasn’t it you that said Phillip had probably poisoned Rolfe and Vincent?” Lia reminded her.

“That was before the guards discovered the real source,” Carla argued. “But let’s pretend that your paranoia isn’t completely unwarranted and that Vincent and Rolfe were purposefully made sick. Do you really think that the servants would be the next targets? We’re quite the step down.”

Lia scowled at her and prodded at her food with a fork for a moment, then, at last, moved to take a bite.

“You, girl,” a deep voice announced from just behind her, giving her pause with the fork an inch from her lips. She turned in her seat and found one of the guards staring down at her. He was tall and burly, even more so while clad in his full suit of armor, and his brown eyes looked upon her with impatience. “Up,” he ordered. “Follow me.”

Lia shot Carla a questioning look and received a shrug in response. As she stood and the guard led her from the dining hall, she wondered what on earth she’d done to deserve another summons so soon. Certainly Jade wouldn’t ask for her after her archery session yesterday, given that she was still meant to be pretending that they didn’t get along. Perhaps Henrik wanted to speak with her?

The guard escorted her up to the second floor and stopped by a door to a room Lia had never visited. “I’ve brought her, Your Majesty,” he called through the door, and then promptly left without further instruction. Lia stood outside alone, uncertain that she’d heard the guard correctly as she listened to the sounds of faint movement on the other side of the door. The handle turned and the door swung open, and Lia was stunned to see King Aldis standing on the other side.

She immediately lowered her head in a short bow, but he waved her up, glancing both ways down the hallway. “Arin’s already gone, hasn’t he? Good.” He moved to the side, holding the door open. “Come in.”

She entered swiftly and found herself in one of Aldis’s many studies. A desk on the far side of the room held a stack of books a foot high, and two unfurled scrolls rested in front of the cushioned chair behind the desk. Aldis seemed to have been reading them before her arrival.

He moved to sit in the chair, and Lia was left to stand uncertainly on the other side of his desk as he let out a long breath and relaxed. “Henrik speaks highly of you,” was the first thing he told her. “I’m glad to see that you’ve adjusted well. You appear to belong here.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” replied Lia, unsure of what else she was meant to say.

That seemed to satisfy him, for he continued, “I’ve called you here because my daughter has a busy day today. She’ll be spending time separately with all four of her remaining suitors. I want you to be there with her for all four. You’re assigned to her side for the day; is that clear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Lia, nodding shortly. “Of course.”

“I intend to speak to you again afterward, and I’ll be expecting a detailed report.”

“Of course,” Lia repeated.

“Good. You’re dismissed. You’ll find her on the grounds near the hedges.”

He shooed her from the office and she left in a hurry, still trying to process their brief conversation even as she made her way back to the ground floor. Aldis seemed to want to use her to keep an eye on Jade, but she didn’t quite understand why he was suddenly so concerned. Jade had been openly critical of her marriage prospects from the moment they’d arrived, and her opinion hadn’t seemed to matter to him before. Perhaps this was another strange test for Jade.

Lia left the castle and found Jade easily, as she was standing not too far from the path that led to the garden. An archery target had been set up against the hedges, this time in full view of the rest of the grounds, and a small table had been placed out to one side. Tanos stood beside it with his back to both Lia and Jade, examining the several bows that had been laid atop it, and Jade was waiting at least two dozen feet out in front of the target, watching him. She saw Lia heading toward them before Tanos did and looked taken aback.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed to Lia, quietly enough to prevent Tanos from overhearing.

“Your father sent me to spy on you and your dates for the day,” Lia informed her with a sigh. “I’m supposed to report to him with details when we’re done. Please don’t make me lie to him.”

“For heaven’s sake,” Jade mumbled. “It isn’t enough to force me through this; now he’s sending servants to ensure that I pretend to enjoy it?”

“I could lie, I suppose,” Lia relented, taking pity on her.

“No need.” Jade shook her head and glanced over her shoulder, watching as Tanos finally selected a bow. “I’ll take pride in keeping your day interesting. It’ll make this pass more quickly for the both of us.”

“Ah!” Tanos lit up at the sight of Lia as he moved to join them. “I was hoping we’d be sent a servant. Someone has to hold the arrows.” He offered her the quiver in his free hand and Lia forced herself to smile back at him as she took it. Then he turned to Jade. “Alright. Now, I know your father said I was only to demonstrate, but we’ll start with the basics and if you pick it up quickly, perhaps we can even sneak you a shot or two.”

Jade shot Lia a look of warning even as Lia’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Tanos stepped up and readied the bow, aiming at the target by the hedges. As he settled into place, he said to Jade, “Now, the first thing you’ll want to look at is my stance. See how my feet are just a shoulder’s width apart, and my body is facing you and not the target?”

“Yes, I see,” replied Jade, pretending to study him hard as he raised the bow with one hand and reached out to Lia with his other. Wordlessly, she placed an arrow into his hand, and he nocked it carefully, his eyes unmoving on the target.

“Then you’ll grip the bow with your left hand and pull back the string with the fingers of your right. Be careful not to touch the arrow, only the string. Aim, keep your body poised, and… release.” He let go of the string and the arrow imbedded itself into the target’s outer ring. It was, all in all, a mediocre shot. Tanos smiled proudly and then offered the bow to Jade. “Try it out. It takes a lot of strength to pull back the string, but I’ll help you.”

“Oh, my father says women shouldn’t shoot bows,” dismissed Jade, shaking her head. “It’s much too dangerous. I could injure myself.”

“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” Tanos insisted. “Just try.”

“I don’t know…”

Lia resolutely kept her gaze to the ground, afraid she’d be unable to keep herself from laughing if she made eye contact with Jade. As a result, she heard Tanos’s and Jade’s exchange but did not bear witness to it.

“You’ll be fine. Just put your left hand on the bow. Here.”

“Oh, it’s much too heavy. I really couldn’t.”

“I know; it’s quite heavy, but I’ll help you hold it up.”

“Am I doing it right?”

“No, no. Don’t face the target. Turn toward your side… your other side. Servant girl, an arrow?”

Lia looked up sharply to see Tanos standing behind Jade with his left hand over hers on the bow while her right hand pulled feebly at the string. Hastily, she handed Tanos another arrow, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away again for what happened next.

Tanos nocked the arrow and wrapped his other hand around Jade’s, then had her pull the string back with his assistance. “Now take aim at the target,” he advised, “and we’ll let go on three. Have you got it?”

“I think so.”

“Good.”

“I’m aiming at the center?”

“Yes, at the bullseye. On three. One, two… three.”

The bowstring gave an odd twang as they each released it at slightly different moments, and the arrow wobbled awkwardly through the air for only a few feet before sinking into the grass barely halfway between themselves and the target.

“I’m sorry; I’m just so awful at this,” Jade sighed. “Perhaps I should just watch you for a while.”

“You’ll get better with more practice,” Tanos vowed, accepting the bow from her. “I’ll get permission from your father to give you archery lessons.”

He turned away to go retrieve the arrow from the grass, and Jade met Lia’s gaze at last and immediately raised a hand to her mouth to stifle her silent laughter. Lia, caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief, could only shake her head in response. “This is terrible,” she mouthed.

“Archery lessons!” Jade hissed back, looking excited at the prospect. “My father will have a fit!”

Jade’s lunch with Hughes was considerably less amusing. Lia was surprised to be joined by Sivan, who helped her to serve the food and wine from the kitchens. As they gathered the first course together, he quipped, “I’m surprised to see you so calmly delivering wine to Your Highness after the incident at the banquet.”

“Funny,” replied Lia with a roll of her eyes. “Why am I not surprised to see you’re at her beck and call once again?”

“You and me both. Interesting how that seems to keep happening,” replied Sivan. “It seems as though every time I run into you, either you’re doing something for the princess or I’m the one bringing you to her.”

“I don’t choose my assignments,” Lia reminded him.

“And you think that I do?”

Lia left the kitchens with two glasses and a bottle of wine, and some of her frustration with Sivan died slightly when she noticed that he was subtly sampling small morsels of the food on his way out. Her suspicion of him lessened significantly as it dawned on her what exactly he’d been doing, and she felt silly for not considering the idea herself. If they were about to unwittingly assist in another “bad bread” incident, it was best to catch it before it reached another suitor, or worse: Jade.

Sivan seemed to be satisfied with the food, for he placed it down in front of them and then announced, “Enjoy your meals. I’ll ensure your desserts are being prepared in the kitchens, and in the meantime, Lia will fetch you anything else you’ll need.”

Lia couldn’t help but feel that Sivan was the luckier of the two of them as he left the room and disappeared into the kitchens, leaving her alone to stand uncomfortably near the table as Jade forced herself to watch Hughes eat.

He stuffed himself silly and talked as he chewed, and the result was that most of what he said came out muffled. Twice, a breadcrumb flew from his mouth and nearly onto Jade’s own plate, and Lia cringed unabashedly, given her position in full view of Jade rather than Hughes.

“Proskentian history is absolutely fascinating,” Lia managed to discern as he continued. Jade feigned an enthusiastic nod, her food completely abandoned in front of her. “Did you know that three centuries ago, a noble tried to claim the entire northern island to himself? He and his brother were twins and his brother had been chosen to succeed the throne, and the noble insisted they split the nation instead. As you can imagine, he didn’t get his way, but he tried to start a coup, even.”

Jade opened her mouth to respond, but Hughes, evidently, hadn’t finished. “And once, the city of Flint lost its port to a violent storm, cutting the northern island off from supply ships for the better part of a month. The bigger ships had no place to dock, so supplies were sent in small ships manned by crews of less than a dozen men. The amount of trips necessary keep up trade with Flint and Wrey for the month were so large that the ports in Birza never kept a smaller ship in the port for more than a few days because they were traveling back and forth so often.”

“That’s very interesting,” agreed Jade half-heartedly, and then immediately looked to Lia. “More wine, please.”

Rolfe was very obviously not at his best following his recent recovery, but after sitting through Jade’s dates with Tanos and Hughes, Lia could see why Jade found him more tolerable. He didn’t try too hard to force conversation, was closest to her in age, and was almost boringly normal, but with a sort of charm to him that made him easy to speak to.

He and Jade spent their time together just sitting in the garden, talking, while Lia stood several feet away from them, valiantly pretending not to be listening in. Rolfe seemed to be confused by her presence, but thankfully didn’t question it.

“So are you ever going to tell me where you got that figurine from?” Jade wondered. “It looked like it was made by someone who knew what they were doing.”

“I made it, actually,” said Rolfe, grinning.

Jade was taken aback. “You? No, you couldn’t have.”

“I did,” he insisted. “I’ve been making them since I was a boy. You just chip away at the stone with the right tools—they must be small enough to make the designs intricate—and then smooth the marble out… it’s easier than it looks. I’ll teach you sometime.”

“There’s something I’d actually be curious to learn.”

Rolfe tried to laugh and instead gave a short cough, wincing and placing a hand on his stomach. Jade shot him a look of concern.

“Have you been eating?”

“More and more every day, but whatever was in that bread, it definitely killed my appetite,” Rolfe admitted. “I used to spend every day here missing the trout in Muthwole, and now just thinking about it makes me feel ill all over again.”

“When you recover, I’ll have my father request an import,” Jade promised. “You can have all the trout that you want.”

“Make sure it’s from the western coast,” joked Rolfe. “The rebels may be enemies of the crown, but they sure know how to fish.”

“Don’t you worry about the fate of your nation if you don’t return?” wondered Jade. “If I’d had to leave Sperath to rule another nation, I think all I’d ever think about would be my own people back home.”

“My older sister will do a fine job,” Rolfe said. “And frankly, I’m glad that it’s her and not me. Sperath is much less chaotic than Muthwole. I’d gladly rule it instead, especially given that I seem to be getting along with the woman who’d be by my side.”

As they shared a smile, Lia rolled her eyes and promptly looked away, nauseated, then happily blocked out the rest of their conversation, eagerly counting the seconds until it was Phillip’s turn to see Jade.

For the date with Phillip, Jade led Lia across the grounds to the stables, where Kaleb was waiting with two horses on either side of him. If he was surprised to see Lia, he didn’t show it.

“Stable boy,” Jade greeted him, and then looked around, confused. “Where’s Phillip?”

“He hasn’t arrived yet, Milady,” replied Kaleb.

“That’s strange. You’d think he’d want to make a good impression,” mused Jade. She seemed to move past it quickly, however, for she shrugged her shoulders and turned to Lia abruptly, smiling. “Lia, meet Opal.” She reached up and rubbed at the neck of the horse at her side: a large, black mare. “She’s mine. Isn’t she beautiful?”

“Yes,” agreed Lia, making brief eye contact with Kaleb as soon as Jade had distracted herself with her horse. He arched a questioning eyebrow at her, and Lia sighed and glanced toward the castle. “It’s strange that he hasn’t even reached the grounds yet, isn’t it?”

“Well, Phillip isn’t exactly known for his punctuality,” replied Jade, “or his politeness. Or his adherence to rules. I’m sure Carla loves reminding the servants that he’s from Xosium.”

“It doesn’t seem fair to me to assume that everyone from a single nation is exactly the same,” said Lia. “Certainly they can’t all be bad?”

One of the castle doors swung open in the distance before Jade could respond, and much to their surprise, it was Sivan that emerged, not Phillip. He rushed out across the grounds to them, visibly shaken, and Lia saw Kaleb tense out of the corner of her eye.

Sivan reached them at last, panting, and said to Jade, “Come quickly. They’ve found something in Phillip’s room.”

Kaleb did not accompany them to the ballroom near the castle’s front entrance. Instead, he moved to return the horses to their stables as Jade, Sivan, and Lia rushed back to the castle.

Both of Jade’s parents were already inside, waiting at the bottom of the stairs with several guards, and Aldis swept Jade to his side hastily without as much as a glance at Lia. They all seemed to be waiting for something, but when Jade tried to ask her father what was happening, she was quickly hushed.

A door at the far side of the room opened, and Bethilda, Carla, and Gaia entered, chattering amongst themselves as they moved to pass across the ballroom. When they noticed what they’d stumbled upon, however, they quickly went as silent as the guards and nobles in the room.

A sudden commotion drew their gazes to the top of the stairs, where several guards began descending in two groups: one in front of an irate Phillip, and one flanking him. Arin led him down the stairs, a large hand grasping him by the arm.

“I haven’t done anything!” Phillip roared, struggling to rip himself from Arin’s grip. His wrists had been chained together and another large chain ran down to his feet, rattling with every step he took. “I swear!” he shouted, his face a deep red color. “I wouldn’t!”

“We found the empty vial in your room,” said Arin, wrenching him forward as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “You’re lucky a one-way trip back to the hole you crawled out of is the only punishment you’re getting.”

“Princess Jade!” Phillip twisted around to face Jade when he caught sight of her, his eyes wide and pleading, and he fought against Arin even as the other guards joined him. “I wouldn’t! You know that I wouldn’t! Tell them!”

Jade’s father shielded her before Lia could get a good look at her face, and a moment later, Phillip had been forced out of the castle and the doors were closed behind him.

“Move along,” the king ordered the servant girls, and Bethilda nodded swiftly at him and led Gaia and Carla away. When he looked directly at Lia and gestured toward the girls in silent instruction, Lia joined them obediently.

“How did you guess it was him all along?” Gaia asked Carla as soon as they’d left the ballroom.

Lia, though silently, couldn’t help but wonder the same. She’d convinced Jade to have the guards search the people she trusted least in the castle, and the vial had been found with the least trustworthy of all: a man even Carla had outright predicted was responsible.

It all seemed far too easy.

8

“I poison two suitors,” Lia mused aloud on her bed later that evening, having elected to skip supper in favor of getting some time to herself. She was far too worried to keep an appetite, and the time to think aloud in solitude was more valuable to her than any meal, given the circumstances. “I plant the vial on the third. Ideally, all three leave. So… who am I?”

She squinted up at the ceiling, thinking. There was the simple answer: that it was Tanos of Hughes, and that the suitor responsible wished to be chosen for marriage and would do whatever it took to gain the power that came with that marriage. But could the guilty suitor be working for Sincaeles, or was he simply out for himself?

She thought of Sivan next. While his trying the food before it reached Jade all but ensured his innocence, perhaps she’d simply attributed the correct motive to the wrong person. Perhaps the guilty party was still a concerned friend who believed he was doing what Jade would want deep down. Could the purpose of the poisonings be to get rid of every suitor, either for Jade’s sake or for another reason entirely?

Lia sighed aloud. “Sincaeles or not, we know that the big reason to marry her is for power. So either someone has a stake in one suitor because someone wants to control the power, or someone has a stake in making sure it’s not any of them. If it’s the latter, we have to figure out why. Meanwhile, there’s a castle full of suspects to choose from.” She paused, shaking her head. “And now this seems impossible without more help. The problem is that there’s no one around to trust.”

She was even beginning to second-guess Carla. The woman’s theory about Phillip had been a little bit too on-the-nose. And yet, it was certainly possible that if Carla had realized Phillip was suspicious, someone else had as well, and then had planned for him to take the fall as a result.

What Lia did know was that as much as Kaleb and Henrik wanted to help her, she’d have to do most of the work herself. Kaleb had requested that they take action, and Lia wanted a new ally in someone they could trust. With two suitors gone and another terribly ill in only the span of a few days, it seemed it was time to take a risk.

“Why aren’t you at supper, servant girl?”

Lia gave a start and sat up quickly when she realized that Arin was peering at her suspiciously from the entrance to the servants’ quarters. She thought quickly.

“I was feeling tired after such a long day. I didn’t realize I’d be missed,” she tried.

“His Majesty has requested your presence,” he told her, his tone clipped. “It would be unwise to keep him waiting.”

“Of course,” agreed Lia, and hastily slipped off of her bed.

Aldis was waiting for her in the very same room from that morning, and Arin led her there in silence and then left her, just as he had before. Aldis let her in without so much as a greeting and then took his seat with a stiffness that told Lia she wasn’t the only one still reeling from the events of the day. For a moment, she simply stood still and watched him. There was a messy stack of letters on his desk, and he shuffled absently through them for a moment, then growled to himself, “Cassius, the disorganized dolt…”

Lia watched him, uncertain, and resisted the urge to speak first. Finally, Aldis set the letters aside and let out a heavy sigh, raising his gaze to meet hers.

“I understand my daughter never saw Phillip today,” he began, and Lia nodded her confirmation. “You were with her for her time with Tanos, Hughes, and Rolfe?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And did she seem to enjoy their company?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Aldis’s eyes narrowed at her and she sensed she’d answered incorrectly. Perhaps he knew his daughter better than he let on. She tried again.

“She gets along very well with Rolfe. Tanos wants to give her archery lessons, which she seemed to appreciate. Hughes…” she hesitated, and then admitted, “Hughes seemed to bore her, sir.”

Aldis let out a quick breath, amused. “Archery lessons. How preposterous.” Then he sat up straighter in his seat and fixed Lia with a curious look. “And during her meal with Hughes, you were helped by a servant boy. Did she speak to him at all?”

“No, not at all,” said Lia honestly.

Aldis looked deep in thought as he mulled over her response, and Lia remained still as she watched him, wondering if her answers had satisfied him this time.

At last, he asked, “So she’s fonder of Tanos than of Hughes?”

The omission of Rolfe wasn’t lost on Lia, but she nodded nonetheless. “Yes, I believe so.”

“Very well.” He waved her away with a hand. “I have what I need. You’re dismissed.”

Lia was assigned to cater to Rolfe’s every whim on his next date with Jade. She’d been relegated to assignments at Carla’s side for the week once again, between the already menial tasks Bethilda was still bestowing upon her as punishment for the wine incident, and Lia was relieved that she’d finally been given a chance to see Jade again, even if it was brief, and even if it was while she was working. She’d decided that it was time to tell her the truth. If someone in the castle was sabotaging the courting process, then Jade was the only person she felt that she and Kaleb would be able to trust.

The reveal would come sooner than she’d wanted, and it was likely that she wouldn’t have time to discuss doing so with Kaleb, given their limited contact, but Lia was confident that having an extra pair of eyes—a pair who was familiar with both the layout and occupants of the castle—could only be an asset in finding the culprit.

The biggest problem, therefore, was that her opportunities to communicate privately with Jade were often few and far between, and she was growing impatient. She’d sat back and taken her time, and now two suitors had been dismissed in a matter of days. And without knowledge of Lia’s true identity, Jade had needed pushing to even consider taking her worries seriously. She could no longer afford to wait. If the person who’d poisoned Vincent and Rolfe and framed Phillip was upping his pace, then she needed to match him step for step.

She stood, silently, at the edge of one of the castle’s many ballrooms, watching Rolfe and Jade dance together. The table where she’d served them their meal had been abandoned, and Lia felt her stomach grumble at the reminder of her own lack of food. She’d been skipping at least one meal each day simply to give herself some time to sit down in silence and think, as things had grown so hectic during the day that she had few opportunities to do so otherwise.

Rolfe and Jade drew closer as they danced, and Lia shifted her gaze from them as Rolfe lowered his head and brought his lips to Jade’s cheek. His kiss was brief and chaste, but probably frowned upon given the competitive nature of Jade’s courtship. If anything, the fact that she hadn’t stopped him said a lot about where Jade’s preferences lay, and it seemed that her early opinion about Rolfe still held true: that he was the lesser of several evils. Lia certainly thought that he was the safest choice, given that he’d already been targeted once by the agent who’d planted the poison.

“You’re beautiful,” Lia watched him say, and she suppressed a frown as he stopped their dance to lift Jade’s gloved hand to his lips. Rolfe was safe, but he was still nearly as slimy as Jade’s other remaining options.

“Thank you. I’m glad you were able to stay.” Jade looked vaguely uncomfortable despite her polite tone, and yet Rolfe seemed oblivious to it.

His grin grew wide, almost to the point of goofiness, and he ran a hand through his hair as he replied, “So am I, Your Highness.”

“Jade.” She stepped closer, hesitated for a moment, and then quickly pressed a kiss to his cheek, in turn. “Don’t worry about being so formal with me when it’s only the two of us.”

Lia’s gaze sharpened as she watched Jade return to the table with Rolfe, and she felt her discomfort growing even despite her best efforts to remain a fly on the wall, unnoticed and unaffected. Jade had said almost those very same words to her on the day they’d first met. Perhaps they hadn’t been rehearsed back then, but they were certainly rehearsed now. The whole thing was so clearly a farce, and she wished she had no part in any of it.

“Do you mind replenishing our drinks?” Rolfe called out to Lia, stirring her from her thoughts. She nodded and stepped forward, collecting the wine bottle on the table and refilling their glasses, just as she had a few short days ago with Tanos and Jade during their picnic date, and then again with Hughes during the meal she’d served alongside Sivan. It had been only mildly uncomfortable to sit in on those dates, but now she outright felt as though she was intruding. She knew without asking that she would be unable to get a moment alone with Jade.

“Thank you,” Jade muttered to her when she was finished, her eyes still on her plate, and then, clearing her throat, she added, “You may retire for the night.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” said Lia, relieved, and left them to the rest of their supper.

She exited the ballroom intending to return to her quarters, but it was late evening and she knew the castle guards would be starting in on their own supper soon, and that Carla and the other girls would not know when to expect her back.

She couldn’t resist retracing the now-familiar path to the staircase she’d seen in her dreams. In her time working within the castle, she’d eventually managed to memorize the halls of the ground floor, and so it was the hallways at the top of the staircase that gave her trouble. No matter how often she retraced the path she was sure she’d walked in her dream, she couldn’t find the silver-handled door along the second floor corridors. A part of her wondered if the door didn’t exist—if the dream had been just that—but a larger, more confident part of her insisted that her subconscious could not have crafted such a specific set of images on its own.

She wound through the hallways in an order she’d yet to try, keeping track of each and every twist and turn, and found herself doubling back three separate times after reaching a dead end. Heartbroken over her failure for what was not the first time, she finally elected to return to her quarters.

On her way back, she made sure to pass by Jade’s bedroom, and then took great care to memorize the route from Jade’s room to her own, mentally listing out every single step and then naming its reverse—which she would need on her return journey—in her head. She took note of every section of hallway that’d be in shadow once the sun had set, along with every crevice and soon-to-be-empty room that could be hidden in, were a guard to come along. Especially helpful was a landmark she found in the form of one of the candle sconces along one of the upper halls, which appeared to be made of brass rather than the wrought iron of the others. She made note of it in the event that she ever found herself lost again.

Come nightfall, she’d need to be able to make the trip to Jade’s room in darkness.

Carla and the other women fell asleep slowly, and Lia’s heart hammered within her chest as she listened to them toss and turn beneath their sheets. She was both anxious and terrified to move from her bed, and even more so to risk leaving the room without permission. Were she to be caught during the day, she could use the excuse that she’d gotten lost to avoid suspicion—and chances were, in fact, that she had gotten lost, given the scope of the castle and its grounds. But now two suitors had been poisoned, and though Phillip had been removed and deemed the culprit, Lia knew tensions were still high. She could not afford to be caught skulking around the castle at night.

When the other women were finally silent and still, Lia took a few slow breaths to calm her heart down and clutched tightly at the ancient book hidden beneath her tunic. Then she rose from her bed and crept, silently, to the door.

There, she waited for another moment, listening for sounds both from the other side of the door and from the women as she ran through her path in her head. She’d been to Jade’s room several times in the past, both to clean and to speak to her, but never alone in the dark, and never with the stakes so high. She wished she had help. She wished that Grerick and Kaleb were with her. Most of all, she wished that she had never been given such a large responsibility in the first place.

The hallways outside were silent. Lia pressed the door open and slipped through, then quickly shut it and listened for footsteps. None came.

She retraced her path through the corridors as silently as she could manage without sacrificing quickness. Though she knew that the guards tended to patrol the halls at all hours, they seemed to keep away from the servants’ quarters, and she saw none on the lower floor. It was at the staircase that she paused. Heavy footsteps echoed from the upper level, and then grew louder and closer as someone descended the stairs.

Lia froze, panicked, and then looked around for a place to hide. She recalled that the stone walls held a foot-wide crevice just around the corner, and that the angle of the candlelight cast a shadow across it. She moved away and rushed to worm her way into the spot, then cursed herself when she couldn’t quite fit her entire body into the shadows.

When the guard finished his descent, he’d be faced with two diverging hallways. She’d be caught if he chose hers. She could stay in her hiding place, but she was leaving everything up to chance.

The guard’s footsteps reached the bottom of the stairs and Lia made a split-second decision. She darted out from the crevice and down the hallway, back the way she’d come, thankful for her training with Kaleb when she was able to keep her footsteps light and silent.

When she was safely around a corner, she paused and listened. The guard’s footsteps were slow and heavy, and they sounded uncomfortably close. He’d chosen the path that would’ve gotten her caught, had she stayed in place.

Heart racing, she closed her eyes and tried to envision the map she’d developed in her head after weeks of maneuvering around on the castle’s lower floor. Recalling an alternative route to the stairs that would ensure she avoided the guard, she pressed forward, taking the long way around back to the staircase and arriving from the corridor the guard had not chosen earlier.

When she paused by the intersection, she could no longer hear him in the other hallway. She peered around the corner, confirmed that the hall was clear, then rushed to the stairs and crept up them.

It wasn’t long after she reached the top that Jade’s room became visible at the end of the next corridor. Lia stepped out into the open, saw no one in either of the halls perpendicular to her own, and eagerly hurried forward, feeling relief overcome her. Then her heart sank as the sound of loud, frantic footsteps reached her ears.

“Stop!”

The word echoed up and down the hallway, and Lia froze immediately as she heard the chink of a sword sliding within its sheath. She turned, slowly, and saw the guard captain, Arin, standing at the top of the staircase. As she watched him, he returned his sword to his sheath and narrowed his eyes, as though daring her to try to run from him. She didn’t.

He moved toward her swiftly, but did not hurt her, though his tone suggested that he very much wanted to. His hand instead seized her wrist and held her in place. “What are you doing out here at night, servant girl?” he growled.

She opened her mouth, mind racing, but could offer no excuse. There simply wasn’t any to offer. Her only plan had been to avoid being caught, and beyond that, she’d had no other options. Now she’d failed.

She closed her mouth and glanced to his grip on her wrist as he pressed her for an answer. “Well?”

She tried to remember her training with Kaleb. There was a dagger on Arin’s other hip, just within her reach. If she could get the upper hand and take his dagger, perhaps use his weight against him… and then what? Kill him?

As far as she knew, he was an innocent man. She couldn’t kill him and leave him for someone else to find just to cover her own tracks. She was better off insisting upon some lame excuse and then hoping to simply be removed from the castle.

Still, a darker and perhaps more logical part of herself reminded her that even if she were only barred from the castle, she’d never be allowed to return, and she’d likely be leaving Jade vulnerable. Equally likely was that she’d never see Jade again, and therefore would never get the chance to have her translate the next line of text within the Oracle. Perhaps one man needed to die now to save others from later bloodshed. And Arin’s death would leave the other nobles and guards convinced that a traitor more villainous than Phillip lurked within the castle walls. The increased security would keep Jade safer. It would just be a matter of keeping a low profile.

She looked back up at Arin’s angry face, torn, as his grip tightened painfully. Then she glanced to the dagger at his side.

A door swung open at the end of the hallway. Arin stiffened, then straightened up as he looked past Lia. “Your Highness—” he began, but Jade drew closer and cut him off.

“What is the meaning of this?” She paused at Lia’s side, irate and in her nightclothes, and demanded, “Let her go.”

Arin acquiesced, though he looked maligned by the order. “Your Highness, I caught her skulking about on her own. At this hour, the servants aren’t meant to—”

“Leave their rooms unless called, yes, I’m aware,” interrupted Jade. “And what makes you so sure that I didn’t call for her?”

Now Arin was the one struck dumb. “Well…” he started, and then collected himself suddenly, his confidence returning. “I asked why she was here, and she had no answer.”

“Did it not occur to you that I also requested she not share the very private, very personal reason that I had her come to my room late at night?” Jade’s eyes narrowed, and even in the dark, Lia saw Arin’s face reddening. “You’ve been here for several years now, guard captain. Tell me, why would I have a girl sneak up to my quarters in the middle of the night without informing anyone? What rumors exist that would explain why I’d do such a thing?”

“I… I don’t—” stuttered Arin. At last, he said, appalled, “You’re being courted, Your Highness.”

“And you’ll say nothing of this to my father, or I’ll tell him about what I’ve heard goes on in your quarters at night with a certain servant of mine, Captain. Gaia was very forthcoming when I pressed her for details. Too forthcoming, actually.”

Arin took a step away from them, nodding shortly. His professional demeanor had suddenly returned, though his stature was noticeably stiff. Lia’s cheeks burned as Arin averted his gaze from Jade’s. “Have a lovely night, Your Highness,” was all he said, and not a moment later he’d returned to the staircase and descended. Lia waited for his footsteps to fade entirely before she faced Jade again.

“Fool,” Jade spat out at her, then promptly shoved her toward her bedroom with more force than Lia had expected. She stumbled and barely managed to right herself in time to be shoved again. “Get inside.”

When they’d safely reached Jade’s room, Lia rounded on Jade and watched her close the bedroom door. “I didn’t intend to be caught,” she muttered.

Jade stepped toward her, arms folded across her chest. “And yet you were. What exactly do you think you’re doing? You’re lucky I heard him shouting and that I showed up before anyone else did.”

“Thank you,” said Lia, genuinely grateful. She didn’t want to ponder the decision she’d faced with Arin any further, for fear of the conclusion at which she’d arrive. “I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t come.”

“You were out late at night alone just days after the poisoning of my suitors, you had no excuse prepared as to why you planned to surprise me in the middle of the night, and you had no backup plan in place despite the very likely chance that you’d be caught, which either makes you eerily confident or mind-numbingly stupid. I’d be afraid of you right now if I weren’t so sure it was the latter.”

“I wasn’t thinking.” Lia’s reply was stiff, and she felt a rush of anger course through her. “But in case you’ve forgotten, I was the one who suggested to you that what happened to Vincent and Rolfe wasn’t an accident in the first place, so there’s no reason for insults.”

Jade gave a sarcastic laugh. “No reason? I just stuck my neck out for you and told a lie that jeopardizes both my reputation and your job. Arin will only keep quiet for so long.” She walked to her bed and sat, then looked to Lia expectantly. “On the other hand: you show up at this castle claiming to be a servant, seem fairly inexperienced, refuse my gifts, balk at my attention, correctly deduce that my suitors were targeted, and now you’ve been caught sneaking here for a visit. Who are you and what do you want from me? Because you’re certainly no normal servant girl. Is there a suitor I’m meant to choose and have you come from another nation, bearing a bribe to offer? I know you aren’t here to kill me; you’ve at least proven that you’re somewhat on my side.”

“I am on your side. I came here tonight to tell you who I am,” said Lia, “and to say that I still think someone here wants to get rid of your suitors.”

“Phillip was the culprit,” came Jade’s immediate reply. “We’ve established this. I don’t blame the guards for worrying in the days following his removal, but we all know, ultimately, that it was an isolated incident.”

“I don’t think so.” Lia shook her head, insistent. “I think he was framed. I was right once, wasn’t I?”

Jade arched an eyebrow and tilted her head to one side. Then, after a moment of staring, a small smile graced her lips. “Well, now you have my attention.”

“You have a lot of power—”

“I’m only a princess.”

“You will have a lot of power,” corrected Lia. “You’ll take over Sperath not long after you’re married, and as the queen of Sperath, you’ll have a claim to the Eveinian throne. Just like your father wants. And you’ll have the best claim, perhaps, if a Seer never shows up.”

“But one will,” said Jade. “One always does.”

“And what if someone’s counting on the Seer to fail? What if someone wants everyone and anyone who can help choose a ruler or who could become the next ruler out of the way? You and your suitors included.”

“I expect you have some sort of proof of this?” Jade looked disbelieving. Lia hesitated, and knew Jade had noticed it when she was met with another smirk. “So this is entirely baseless. Good to know. You got lucky once, Lia, but I doubt it’ll happen again.”

“Someone else poisoned your suitors!” Lia hissed, struggling to keep her voice down. “I know it wasn’t Phillip. Someone wants to get rid of them, and maybe to get rid of you, or else to leave one man remaining to marry you. Each time a suitor leaves, the others get closer to marrying the woman who could become Eveinia’s next emperor. And it’s likely that the same people who want to set you up are also the people who’d do everything in their power to stop the next Seer. The same people that I believe murdered Emperor Levian and his son, Cedric. They call themselves Sincaeles, and I think they have an agent here in the castle.” She stopped there and waited, meeting Jade’s stare with a firm gaze of her own.

“Who are you?” Jade asked abruptly.

“A friend. Someone who received word that you may be in danger.” Lia stepped closer, tugging at the glove on her right hand until it began to slide off. With her palm freed, she dropped the glove to the floor and knelt in front of Jade, then offered her right hand up for examination. Jade’s eyes fell to her palm and she stared. Lia watched her expression change from one of indignation to one of confusion instead.

“What?” Jade gasped, and then reached for her hand, pulling it closer to get a better look. Suddenly she released Lia’s hand like she’d been burned. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you: I’m here to help. I don’t know who’s behind what’s happening within these walls, and I don’t know what their goal is. But I know that they’re influencing your courtship.”

“That has nothing to do with being the Seer,” said Jade, taken aback. “You have much more important things to do than to make sure my courtship is fair. Shouldn’t you be off searching for the first of the twelve heirs?”

“Well, I’m multi-tasking,” Lia replied with a sigh.

Jade’s eyebrows knitted together. “Who is it?” she asked at once. “Your first. It’s someone in the castle?”

Lia’s gaze was unwavering. “Who do you think it is?”

Jade was expressionless as she stared back, but Lia saw her swallow hard and then give an almost imperceptible shake of her head. “But that can’t be true. My duty is here. With my own people. To my own people.”

“Your people know that you’ve been trained from birth to rule. They know you may very well be the best person to take the throne. Even if you hadn’t been the first heir, you were going to be a good candidate.”

“You haven’t even found the other eleven yet,” Jade protested. “Even if it really is me, how can you know how well I’ll measure up?”

“I can’t. But if you can rule Sperath, then you can rule all twelve nations. I know that you can.”

“I have no desire to rule all twelve. I’m eighteen years old. I’m meant to stay here, find a husband, and rule Sperath. And…” Jade sucked in a breath, looking truly disarmed for the very first time in as long as Lia had known her, “…and that’s exactly what I’ll do. If I refuse to come with you, then I can’t be chosen.”

“You didn’t even want a husband,” Lia reminded her. “You don’t like any of those men.”

“I like Rolfe well enough to rule alongside him. I’ll marry Rolfe,” Jade decided. “He was poisoned, so if what you say is true about someone sabotaging my courting, then I already know he’s a safe choice, correct?”

“And you think your father will let you do that?”

“He’ll have to. This is a choice I won’t let him make for me anymore. Not with so much at stake.” Lia was silent, though it was impossible to hide her disappointment.

“I can’t keep you safe if you make this choice,” she warned. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, but I have to move on to the second heir soon, and I need you to translate something for me so that I know where to find him.”

“If I’m in danger until I’m married, then you can stay here and see this through, can’t you?” Jade pled. “If someone really did frame Phillip like you say, you can find whoever is responsible.”

“That was the plan,” Lia admitted. “Only I’d hoped you’d come with me after. I could take you somewhere safe.”

“I can’t leave my people,” Jade repeated.

“Is there no one to rule in your absence?” asked Lia. “Surely another noble, or—?”

“I am an heir by blood. No one else would fit as well as I, and I don’t want them to have to try. And even if I did, my father would never accept it. Don’t try to change my mind, Lia.” Jade swallowed hard and motioned for Lia to get to her feet. “Now what do you need from me regarding this traitor you seem to think exists?”

Lia resisted the temptation to argue with her further. “Is there anyone here you trust without question?”

“Sivan,” said Jade without any hesitation. “My parents. If there’s a conspiracy here, none of them are involved.”

“Sivan,” echoed Lia, growing curious. While she’d already written Sivan off as innocent herself, Jade’s adamant certainty was surprising. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“And what about Carla? Or the guard captain, Arin? They both know their way around the castle. What about Bethilda, and Josef, and the other servants and guards?”

“Slow down,” Jade insisted. “I…I don’t know. I guess there’s that new stable boy that I don’t know much about, but—”

“Kaleb,” Lia interrupted. “He’s with me.”

Jade’s eyes narrowed. Annoyed, she asked, “And who else is with you?”

“Just Kaleb. Sir Henrik knows who I am, too, as he arranged our positions here.”

“You’re the next Seer and you only have one person traveling with you? When an emperor has just been murdered and the killer is yet to be caught? Shouldn’t you have more protection?”

“We’ve been instructed to lay low,” explained Lia, “especially for this. Tell me about who you don’t trust.”

Jade scowled at her, but grudgingly explained, “Arin’s a fool, but I suppose that could be an act. Carla knows everything about everyone here, but I’ve known her for nearly my entire life. Bethilda and Josef have been here for so long, as well… it seems unlikely that it would be either of them, but honestly, I’m not sure there’s any way to tell.”

“Except with Sivan,” noted Lia. “You’re sure with him.”

“I would trust Sivan with my life and with your identity,” said Jade.

Lia studied her for a moment, intrigued. “You are in love with him,” she decided at last.

Jade stood and walked away from her with a shake of her head, very obviously aggravated. “No, I’m not.”

“Then why do you trust him?”

Jade was silent for several seconds, and when she spoke, it was with her back to Lia. “If Tanos or Hughes is behind this, how can I be expected to spend time alone with them? I may be skilled with a bow, but I certainly can’t carry one around with me.”

“You have servants with you,” Lia reminded her, frustrated by her refusal to elaborate on Sivan.

“They’re hardly trained fighters.”

“I am.”

Jade turned to her, offering her a wry smile. “And I should just request you as my servant any time I’m in their company?”

“There’s another option,” said Lia, though she was reluctant to bring it up at all. Jade returned to her, curious, and they stood together, less than a foot between them, as Lia grimly offered, “You could do the translation for me tonight. No one will be any the wiser about who you are or who I was, and I’ll move on to the next of the twelve heirs and be out of here by morning. You’ll increase the guard on yourself and on Rolfe, until the time comes to marry Rolfe. By then, the person responsible should be much more concerned with finding and stopping the Seer, and will leave you here to rule Sperath in peace.” Lia withdrew the Oracle from within her tunic and offered it to Jade. “All you have to do is read one line from this book, and I can go.”

“So that’s how it works, is it? A book. I always wondered how the Seers knew who to choose.” Jade glanced from Lia to the book, curious, her eyebrows furrowed and a frown on her lips, and Lia waited patiently as she took a moment to think. “No, I don’t think I like your plan,” she said at last. “I think you should find the person that you believe is after me or my suitors, or whatever else it is you think that he or she wants. And then, when I’m safely married, I’ll give you your translation. That’s a fair trade.”

“Never mind that you don’t actually want to be married to any of those men? Maybe Sivan could come with us,” Lia suggested. “We can give you a safe place to stay together.”

“I’ve just told you that I’m not in love with Sivan,” insisted Jade. “I was being honest. The games were fun, but given the more dire circumstances, it seems as though now would be a good time to end them.”

“So does that mean you’re going to clarify?” asked Lia. “About all of it? The rumors?”

“I thought I’d already been doing just that over the course of the past several weeks.” Jade forced a thin smile. “I’ve never been skilled at subtlety.”

“I’ve been trying not to make assumptions,” said Lia, quieted. “They can be dangerous, especially with what’s been going on here lately.”

“Only when they’re wrong,” corrected Jade. Lia followed her with her eyes as she crossed to her door and cracked it open. “So now you know, as if my incessant flirting wasn’t enough. It’s embarrassing, frankly, now that I know why you’re here.” She opened it wider and waved a hand as though she expected Lia to take her leave.

“I wasn’t—” Lia began, suddenly finding it difficult to form words without stumbling over them. “You don’t have to be embarrassed,” she said at last. “I think you should be with someone you want to be with. Not someone you feel obligated to be with.”

“Well, it’s not such a tragedy when I’ve had years to come to terms with my fate. I’ll live. I’ve always known what I needed to do. My father has made sure of that.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” protested Lia. “Come with me.”

Jade shook her head. “Please find the person responsible for this mess. I would be more grateful for that than I would be for anything else you might want to do for me.”

“What about your mother?” asked Lia. “What does she want for you? I only hear you talk about what your father wants. Carla tells me he’ll prefer you to marry Tanos or Hughes. I know that you’d choose Rolfe. But does your mother agree with you or with him? Because perhaps she’d tell you to leave the castle entirely, if it was what you told her you wanted.”

“But it’s not what I want. Not if it means submitting myself to another, much larger position as a ruler, where I’d be encouraged to marry a man and produce an heir regardless.” Jade looked very tired, suddenly. “Go, Lia. This argument is done.”

Lia felt her cheeks burn. “Nobody would force you to do any of that. No one could, even if they wanted to. And you’d be traveling with both myself and Kaleb, at least for a while. Until we got you to safety,” she tried. “Wouldn’t you prefer my company to Rolfe’s?”

There was a long silence, and then Jade gave a disbelieving shake of her head and a light laugh. When she met Lia’s gaze again, her eyes were twinkling with obvious amusement. “Oh, Lia. Even if I believed you actually meant that, I’m not fifteen years old anymore. You can’t tempt me away from my birthright with an offer like that, even if it is a birthright I didn’t ask for. But your commitment to your cause is admirable, for someone with no memory.” She paused, thoughtful, and then added, “You don’t know even who you are, let alone what you want. That must be hard to live with. I may be living a life I didn’t want, but at least I know what kind of life I’d prefer to live if I could. There is some comfort in that.”

Lia swallowed hard and felt her face grow even hotter. Jade seemed sympathetic, now, but that didn’t make it sting any less when she added, “I think you should go now, Lia.”

Lia was quick to obey this time.

9

The following morning, Lia yanked at the sleeve of a tunic trapped within the confines of her rucksack, frustrated. She’d set out to accomplish so much the night before, and instead all she’d done was both completely drive Jade away from joining them and fail to get a translation from her. And with Jade having lied to Arin the way she had, it was only a matter of time before Lia would go the way of Jade’s previous servants who’d gotten too close with her. She needed to find the traitor, and she needed to do it quickly.

She yanked harder at the tunic and heard the material tear. Carla, who was busy changing at her bedside, looked up and then over at Lia, her eyebrows raised as Lia cursed under her breath. “You’re not in a very good mood this morning,” she noticed.

Lia freed the tunic at last and lifted it into the air, examining it until she found the tear in the shoulder. “Do you know how to fix this?” she asked.

“Of course. You’re lucky today is our day off, as well, so I’m willing to take the time.”

“We get the entire day to ourselves?” Lia asked, not quite daring to get her hopes up.

“Well… we still have to follow orders if they’re given, but yes, generally we’ll have the entire day to do what we wish. It’s only the six of us today; each group of servants gets a separate day each month. You’ll find that Bethilda has conveniently run out of things for us to do, but only for the next twenty-four hours.”

“What do you do with the time?”

“The same as I do with the hour or so of free time I manage to scrounge up on other days. Read, socialize, sleep. Whatever I’d like. Today, evidently, I’ll be teaching you to sew.” She sat down on her bed and motioned for Lia to hand her the tunic.

“Read?” Lia echoed, jumping at the opportunity presented to her. “So is there a library you visit here?”

“Of course. I love to read. The collection here has grown quite large since I was a girl.”

“Can we go today?” Lia blurted before she could stop herself. She knew she had more important things to do than to search for a book in a library, but she couldn’t help herself. One quick look at the book from her dream would confirm that she’d lived in this very castle at some point before she’d lost her memories.

She had only a single reservation. She’d been firm on wanting to know everything about who she’d used to be, but perhaps Grerick had had a point as well when he’d said that she’d need to be prepared to face who she’d been in her past. Discovering the book from her dreams in the library would set her down a path she’d have trouble returning from, and though Lia was certain that she wanted to start down that path, she wasn’t confident that she’d be happy with where it led.

“Sure. We’ll go in the evening.” Carla rose and moved to a desk on the other side of the room, from which she withdrew a small needle and a spool of thread. She walked Lia through the process of stitching up the tunic, and Lia struggled to pay attention, an odd feeling in her stomach suddenly. Now that she’d been given the chance to prove her own theory, she found herself wishing she had more time to prepare for it.

If she saw that underlined sentence in that book, it made a lot of things true: that she’d been in the castle before, that she’d likely met Carla and Sivan and Jade and everyone else already, and that she’d probably been either a Sperathian noble herself, or else a serial handmaiden, given that she’d been present in Vriidmont’s royal castle on the night of the emperor’s murder. Neither option was particularly palatable to her. The former would leave her with so many questions that she’d likely never receive an answer for all of them, and the latter was too large a disappointment, given the job’s unremarkable nature. She’d hoped to have been a traveler of some sort, or at least to have seen more of Eveinia than the inside of a few castles’ stone walls.

Carla pulled her from her thoughts with a question. “Are you eating breakfast today?”

“I haven’t decided.” She swallowed hard and nodded her thanks when Carla offered her the repaired tunic.

As she changed, Carla told her, “You really should eat more. I don’t know what it is you do in here during the meals you skip, but it can’t be worth missing a meal every day.”

“I just like having some time to myself.”

“Then you can leave breakfast early,” Carla suggested. “Come eat.” Lia was hesitant, but Carla smiled and beckoned her eagerly, and so she gave in with a nod and followed her out of the bedroom.

“Alright. But it better not be porridge again.”

When she returned early to the usually empty servants’ quarters after wolfing down her meal, Lia found Sivan alone in the room, crouched by her bed and rifling through her bag.

“Hey!” she shouted, hurrying toward him, and he dropped the bag immediately and scrambled to his feet, looking surprised to see her. “What are you doing?” she asked him, incredulous. When she realized he hadn’t discovered the book beneath her clothing, she lost some of her panic, but Sivan still arched an eyebrow at her.

“With a reaction like that, you must have something to hide.”

“And you thought you’d go through my belongings without my permission to make sure?” Lia shot back, advancing on him.

“I didn’t expect to see you back so soon,” Sivan admitted, standing his ground. When only a foot separated them, he lowered his voice and his expression hardened into a glare. “Listen. Jade may trust you, but even I can see that she’s blinded by her own intentions with you. And I won’t let you hurt her. If you’re up to something, I’m going to find out.”

“Jade’s not the easily swayed little girl that you seem to think she is,” said Lia quietly. “She’s done more than enough to prove that she’s willing to put the needs of her subjects above her own, and I trust her judgement. That’s why I realize that catching you here right now doesn’t mean that we’re enemies: because she trusts you. And so do I. We’re on the same side.”

“That remains to be seen,” Sivan said curtly. “Though I see you’re on a first name basis with her, now.”

Lia shook her head in disbelief, feeling silly as their situation began to fully sink in. “Sivan, we’ve been in this castle doing the exact same thing since I arrived. We’re both trying to protect her.”

“You say that, and yet the only people who arrived just in time for she and her suitors to need protection were the suitors themselves, the stable boy, and you. And you’ve seemed determined to get close with her ever since your arrival.”

“I’ve heard that I’m not the only one she’s close with,” she retorted, and then paused, trying to gauge Sivan’s reaction. He clenched his teeth and his jaw tightened visibly, but he didn’t seem angry, nor jealous. “And I’m not the only one with a strange relationship. She tells me she isn’t in love with you, but I know that you want to protect her. What I don’t understand is exactly what you want from me.”

“I want you to tell me who you are.” He stepped closer, looming over her. “You skip meals. You wander off when you think that no one is paying attention. I’ve seen you disappear up staircases you’d have no reason to climb. And we have two men poisoned and a third removed from the castle for it who was much too obvious a target for framing and much too unintelligent to be the mastermind the guards claim he was. I don’t know if Tanos or Hughes is smart enough to pull off such a ruse alone either, but searching through the stable boy’s belongings gave me no new information, and my other lead is you.”

“So you’ve been snooping around to try to find who it is,” Lia confirmed.

“Of course,” said Sivan.

“Well, you’re wasting your time with me. I was with Jade on the day that the vial was found in Phillip’s room, remember? You and I were both assigned to her lunch with Hughes. I wouldn’t have had time to plant it.”

That seemed to throw Sivan for a moment, and she saw in his expression that he’d realized she was right. He nodded shortly, calming down, and then continued, “If we’re really on the same side, then prove it. Tell me what you know. If it’s enough, maybe I can finally go to Arin and the guards.”

“I’m not sure that they can be trusted,” said Lia. “But if you want me to be honest with you, you’ll have to turn around first.” Sivan shot her a look of disbelief at her demand. “You’ll have to trust me when I say that there’s a good chance that the person responsible for this has a symbol on the back of his neck, or a scar. Let me check your neck. That’s all I want. I believe you’re innocent, but it’d be silly of me to not make sure when it would be so easy to have proof.”

Sivan was skeptical, but he nodded and grudgingly obeyed, pressing a hand to the back of his neck and lifting the short strands of hair that hung low enough to hide the skin there. “Clearly you know something that I don’t,” he muttered, and turned away from her, visibly tense. She reached up to touch her fingers to the back of his neck. The skin was smooth, and she could see no scarring or burn marks.

“There,” said Sivan as he faced her again. “Now do you trust me?”

“Yes.” She nodded sincerely. “I do.”

“So give me something to make me trust you,” he demanded. “If we’re on the same side like you say, then you know more than me about what’s been going on here. I know you do.”

“Well, would you believe me if I said that the stable boy is innocent?” asked Lia.

“You know him,” guessed Sivan.

“We came here to keep Jade safe. We’ve been trying to protect her.” It wasn’t the complete truth, but sharing her true identity with Sivan just hours after revealing the information to Jade seemed unwise. She was certain that Sivan hadn’t been involved in the poisonings and was only trying to help, but she still wanted to keep that one particular card close to the chest, if only for his own safety.

“You think this is all about her?” asked Sivan.

“Don’t you?”

“I assumed, but I suppose I wasn’t certain.”

“I think someone is overly invested in the outcome of this courtship,” explained Lia. “Likely because of the power that will be held by the person that Jade marries. Maybe Tanos and Hughes aren’t responsible, but someone in the castle is pulling the strings and wants one of them to be the one to marry her, or for none of her suitors to marry her, perhaps to open the door for a different man in the future. I think there’s a traitor in the castle, or maybe even more than one person.”

“Like whom?”

“My best guess is that it’s someone working for a group called Sincaeles,” Lia admitted.

Sivan’s eyebrows furrowed. “That strange fringe group that’s always complaining about the Seers? What do they have anything to do with this? Last I heard, their followers were still rambling on street corners. You’re telling me they’ve started branding themselves and poisoning nobles? That’s rather far-fetched, isn’t it?”

“Right now it doesn’t matter who the person responsible claims their allegiance to,” Lia replied, dismayed by Sivan’s dismissive response. “All we need to be concerned about is discovering who the person responsible is. You know the people here better than I ever will, so do you have any ideas?”

Sivan let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head. “My best lead other than you was the stable boy, but you’ve ruled him out. So I’ve drawn a blank unless you think a suitor is directly responsible.” He hesitated, thoughtful. Then he proposed, “Today’s your day off, isn’t it? No one will think twice about seeing you wandering around. You could use today to look into Tanos and Hughes. I can give you instructions on how to find their quarters, and probably even buy you some time to ensure that you won’t get caught. You can look for anything that ties them to other people working in the castle, or any evidence that they’re responsible for the poisonings. Evidence that the guards might have missed, if they ever even bothered to check either room during the search that led them to remove Phillip.”

He studied her for a moment as she nodded her agreement, and then he added, “I don’t know who you are or why you’re doing this, but I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s worried about Jade. Everyone else has been so casual about what happened to Vincent and Rolfe ever since Phillip left; it made me feel like I was being paranoid. I was scared to broach the topic with anyone else. Thank you.”

“Let’s just keep her safe,” said Lia. “If we’re right, then these poisonings are just the beginning.”

Sivan, nodding, walked to the door and carefully pushed it open, preparing to take his leave. “I’ll come find you soon. Be ready.”

“I will be.”

“How did you find the time to come here?” Kaleb huffed. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat: a side-effect of several long hours of moving bales of hay into a barn not far from the stables. Lia sat on one such bale and watched him work. “Aren’t the servants supposed to be helping prepare for some sort of feast tonight? I heard Josef talking with one of the male servants about it this morning.”

“Some of us have the day to ourselves. Bethilda and the other women have holed up in our quarters with books or quills and parchment, but I begged her to let me take a walk. If I’m not back in half an hour, she’s threatened to send the guards after me, though I doubt she’ll follow through. This is the one day a month we’re allowed to have some freedom.”

“So what’s so urgent that’s brought you here?” Kaleb dropped a heavy bale next to her with a grunt and then straightened up, watching her expectantly.

“I spoke with Sivan. He’s not responsible for any of this. In fact, he’s been doing some investigating of his own.”

Kaleb’s eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. “And you trust he was being honest with you?”

“Jade trusts him, and I trust her. He’s come up with a plan for today to find out whether or not Tanos or Hughes can be linked to the poisonings, and I’m going to do what he asks me to. He’s going to keep the necessary people distracted while I search the suitors’ quarters.”

Kaleb turned sharply, alarmed. “Have you lost your mind? If you get caught, it’s you that has to leave, not him. We can’t risk that, especially when we’re relying on someone that we hardly know.”

“What else do you propose?” pressed Lia. “We need help, Kaleb, and not just from Henrik, who, in case you’ve forgotten, was only ever meant to help us get and keep our jobs here. I told Jade who I was last night, and this morning I told Sivan the least I could.” Kaleb pressed a frustrated hand to his forehead, and Lia glared at him as she continued, “He only knows that he can trust us. He wants to help, and he’s worked here for much longer than we have. He can navigate the castle more easily than I can.”

“Which would make him the perfect person to be our traitor!” hissed Kaleb. “You can’t trust so easily, Lia.”

Lia rose quickly, meeting his angry stare with one of her own. “I know that you’re just trying to be careful after what happened with Sasha, but I trust Jade and Henrik, and Jade told me she would trust Sivan with her life. I believe her. I saw Sivan try her food before he served her after the poisonings. You don’t have to trust him, but you do have to trust me.”

“If you’re wrong about this—”

“I’m not.” She stepped away from him, arms crossed. “Now we have to figure out how we’re going to handle this. You can either help Sivan keep people away from the suitors’ quarters today, or stay out of the way entirely.”

“Of course I’m going to help,” Kaleb sighed. “I just wish Sivan wasn’t a part of this.”

“Well, he is. And I’m thankful for it.”

“You know,” said Kaleb, thoughtful, “now that Jade knows everything, it seems much wiser to simply leave tonight with her, rather than bother with Sivan’s plan. We won’t find our traitor, sure, but I’d rather not put you at risk like this.”

“She doesn’t want to leave with us.”

Kaleb looked confused. “But she must.”

“No. We don’t need her. We only need her translation. Our goal is only to find the final location, where I’m supposed to bring as many of the twelve heirs as I can, correct? And once we find the twelfth heir, he’ll translate the line that reveals the final location.”

“That’s correct,” confirmed Kaleb. “And Jade has done her part, presumably, so what are we still doing here? I know you’d like to save everyone if you can, but that’s not our job. You know that. If she refuses to come along, we need to leave her behind.”

“She hasn’t done the translation,” said Lia with a shake of her head. “She’s told me she won’t do it until after her wedding. So our new duty is to ensure that she gets to have one.”

“Lovely.” Kaleb sighed, moving away from her to shift a few bales of hay. “So,” he asked, “what exactly is Sivan’s plan for the day, then?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” came a new voice from the entrance to the stables. Kaleb straightened up abruptly and he and Lia turned to see Sivan waiting there, leaning casually against one of the wooden beams that supported the building. “We have to get started soon,” he added. “I was hoping to find you both here.”

“How much time do we have?” Lia asked.

“Enough,” said Sivan. “You and I are spending the next two hours doing work for Jade until I’m needed to help with the big supper tonight. Or at least that’s what our superiors believe, and the story she’ll corroborate if anyone asks her. She’s also managed to schedule a date with Hughes to keep him out of our hair, which should start any moment now.” He looked back and forth between them expectantly. “So, stable boy, are you ready to get started?”

“Only if you are,” said Kaleb curtly.

Sivan smiled. “Then let’s go.”

Kaleb’s job was to distract the guards that typically patrolled the halls near the suitors’ quarters. The corridor they needed access to wasn’t far from one of the staircases, and so Sivan set Kaleb up with a cart from one of the upstairs bedrooms, piled high with several porcelain plates, and sent him to the top of the stairs.

“You’re sure they won’t have my head for this?” Kaleb asked him, nervous.

“Not their stable boy, and not for a few smashed plates,” Sivan assured him. “You’re harder to replace than you think. But if you get into hot water later, I’ll tell them that I asked you to man the cart in my stead. That should be enough to ensure you stay.”

“This hinges on me trusting you quite a bit,” muttered Kaleb.

“Then it’s a good thing you can.” Sivan glanced up and down the empty corridor, then muttered, “Alright, as soon as Lia and I are out of sight, go. And keep them busy for as long as you can. Fake an injury so that they’ll have to take you to a healer.”

Kaleb nodded, and Lia followed Sivan down the hallway and into an empty bedroom with a small window in the door. There, they waited together.

“You really think this plan with Kaleb will work?” Lia asked him.

“If it doesn’t, I’ll be helping distract them as well. And we know Hughes is with Jade,” Sivan said. “If anything, you should certainly have enough time to search his room, and I think if you hurry we can get Tanos’s room as well. If anything goes wrong, I’ll knock on the doors. Two knocks means that you should get out as quickly as you can. Any more than that and you should hide immediately.”

“Okay.”

A sudden crash sounded from down the hallway, along with a loud groan from Kaleb, and several guards rushed past their door. Sivan counted quietly to three, paused, and then flung the door open and said to Lia, “Take a left at the end of the hallway. Hughes’s room is the second door on the left, and Tanos’s is the third.” She nodded and he turned and walked swiftly back the way they’d come, toward the staircase, while Lia hurried down the hallway and turned left. She tried Hughes’s bedroom door and was relieved to find it unlocked.

The room was nearly as large as the quarters Lia shared with six others, much to her disgust. On the bed at the far side of the room, several outfits had been placed across the bedspread, and even more hung from a mirror in the corner.

Beside the bed was a large desk, on top of which rested a scroll that had been tied with a string. Lia moved to investigate there first, slipping the string from the scroll and unfurling it to examine the writing that filled the page. It seemed to be some sort of itinerary for a trip that spanned the distance from Proskent to Sperath, complete with villages and shops to visit. With a roll of her eyes, she quickly replaced the scroll and moved to the heavy traveling trunk partially hidden beneath the bed.

It took her several seconds to pull it out from under the bed, and for a moment, she was sure that the locks across the front would keep her from opening it, but a quick glance told her that they were each already unlocked. Hughes didn’t seem at all like a man with something to hide.

She opened the trunk anyway and found that half of it was filled with folded clothing stacked all the way to the top. The other half contained a smaller box that housed a long smoking pipe, buried beneath two hats and a book that appeared to detail the history of Proskentian royalty. Lia put everything back the way she’d found it and closed the trunk.

A perfunctory search of the rest of the room provided nothing of any interest, and Lia bit at her lip as she looked around the quarters, out of ideas. Hughes seemed to be exactly who he said he was: a nobleman looking to marry a noblewoman. And yet, she was hesitant to leave so soon, with only him and Tanos left as potential leads.

She heard rapid footsteps from the hallway just outside the door, and turned swiftly as a fist banged against the outside of the door several times in rapid succession. In a panic, Lia ducked into the room’s only wardrobe and pulled the doors shut behind her.

Just seconds later, she heard Sivan’s voice from outside: “Sorry, sir. I thought you were inside. Jade was looking for you.”

“But I’ve just returned from seeing her,” said Hughes. “You’re mistaken.”

“Oh.” There was a short pause. “I must be, then. Perhaps it was Rolfe she wanted to see.”

The bedroom door opened and Lia slowed her breathing as she listened to Hughes enter. He closed the door behind himself and then let out a quiet sigh, muttering a quick, “Silly boy,” to himself. As the bed creaked beneath him, he added, “The servants here can’t do a damned thing right.”

Lia heard the trunk slide out from under the bed, followed by the rustling of several papers. Hughes let out another sigh and the bed creaked again. Lia stood still for the next several minutes, on edge, as she listened to Hughes slowly turn the pages of his book.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he finally got to his feet and returned the book to the trunk, but her muscles were stiff from being forced to remain in the same position for so long. There was the faint sound of cloth sliding along skin as Hughes changed his clothing, and when he was finished, he let out a light cough and then a curse. “Can’t be late for supper,” he mumbled, and a moment later, the door opened and then closed, and Lia was left alone again.

As a precaution, she waited several minutes before she left the wardrobe, and spent the time considering her options. She’d wanted to check Tanos’s room as well, and he’d be at supper for at least the next hour. Sivan would be helping with the supper as well, if his earlier comments had been anything to go by, and Kaleb was likely either back in his quarters or still feigning an injury with the healer. Lia still had the guards to contend with, and she was on her own now.

She ensured the wardrobe doors were completely closed behind her and then went to the door, nervous. She had no way of knowing what or who was on the other side, and if a guard saw her exit, she’d have a lot of questions to answer.

She was just about to take her chances when the door was suddenly thrown open from the other side, and she was met with a breathless Sivan, who looked very relieved to see her.

“Oh,” she sighed, placing a hand over her pounding heart as she quickly removed herself from the room. “I’m so glad it’s you.”

“I could say the same,” said Sivan, closing the door behind her. “You have no idea how difficult it’s been going back and forth between the kitchens and here, hoping I’d be able to get you out without the guards seeing. Now come on, the halls won’t be clear in another minute or so.”

“I need to check Tanos’s room,” explained Lia. “Hughes is innocent. I need to make sure that Tanos is guilty.”

“It’s too risky,” replied Sivan. “I can’t get you out again.”

“So tell Kaleb to help me,” suggested Lia. “I just need someone to let me know when the guards aren’t around.”

“Kaleb’s in his bed with medicine he doesn’t need and our castle’s best healer by his side,” Sivan explained. “He’s not going anywhere.”

“Then unless you have any better ideas, I’ll have to risk it,” said Lia, moving past him toward Tanos’s room.

“Just wait,” Sivan insisted, blocking her path. “Think about Jade. If you get caught, you’ll likely never set foot in this castle again. At best, you’ll have the guards watching every step you take. You’ll be no help to her like that. We can search Tanos’s room anytime with Jade’s help. Wait for her to get him out on the grounds. We have to be patient.”

Lia stared at him, conflicted, and he looked past her suddenly, nodding his head expectantly and motioning for her to look behind herself. She turned and saw one of the guards entering the corridor, and faced Sivan again. “Fine.”

“Go back to your quarters,” he advised her. “We’ll find what we need eventually, alright? Just not today.”

“Where have you been all day?” Carla asked when Lia arrived back in their shared quarters. Nearby, Afi and Jemma were playing some sort of game with dice and torn pieces of parchment, but Bethilda and the other two women were nowhere to be found. “I thought you wanted to go to the library.”

“I was with Jade,” said Lia, and ignored the look Carla gave her in response. “Where’s everyone else?”

“They’re all working the feast tonight. It’s supposed to be pretty large. Every nobleman, noblewoman, and suitor from the castle and the court is attending. With the amount of staff they’ll need to cook and serve the food, we’re lucky not to have been chosen. In fact, I imagine the reason over half of us got out of it is because we were supposed to have the day to ourselves.” She eyed Lia almost critically. “Though I see you didn’t really take a break yourself. I wish I could say I was surprised that even on your day off you spent several hours at Jade’s beck and call.”

“We can still go to the library sometime,” promised Lia, sensing Carla’s feelings had been hurt. “I just had other things to do.”

“I’m sure you did,” said Carla, but this time it was with a hint of a smile. “Do you want to join whatever they’re doing over there while we wait for the others to come back?” She gestured toward Afi and Jemma. “I don’t expect the supper will take longer than an hour or so.”

“I’d rather hear about your day,” said Lia, smiling.

She spent the following hour catching up with Carla as the sky outside turned dark and the sound of thunder reached their ears. The younger girls went around the room, lighting candles as they ran out of natural light, and for a while, Lia felt at ease as she lay in her bed and listened to Carla and the rain. It was the last time in a while, she sensed, that she’d get a chance to truly relax.

“I’m glad you came to work here,” Carla told her eventually. She said it as though it was difficult to admit. “It gets quite lonely, actually. Do you think you’ll stay after Jade has been married?”

“Won’t they be overstaffed after?” Lia asked, trying to avoid the question.

“Perhaps. But with good recommendations, they might keep you. I’m sure Jade would vouch for you. And so would I.” Carla shrugged and gave her a small smile. “Plus, if having wine dumped on your head during your first week didn’t lose you the job, I can’t imagine they’re eager to let you go.”

“I think that I’d like to stay, at least for a while,” Lia said honestly. Carla’s smile widened into a grin. “My life would be so much simpler if I did.”

“So then stay,” suggested Carla, before adding quietly, “Spending your days with me and your nights with Jade sounds like an ideal way to live to me.”

“I’m not, honestly,” replied Lia with a laugh. “My nights are just as lonely as yours. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but it’s the truth.”

“I wish you hadn’t told me,” Carla said, frowning and shaking her head. “You couldn’t just let me be? I’ve spent my life a servant. This is as exciting as it gets for me. You should be able to relate.”

Lia laughed again as Carla pouted at her. Across the room, Afi slowly got to her feet, her eyebrows furrowed as she looked toward the door. “Did anyone else hear that?” she asked.

“Hear what?” replied Carla. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“It sounded like someone knocked on the door.” Afi crossed the room and reached for the door, then waited, presumably expecting to hear another knock. When there was silence, she pulled the door open.

A figure toppled into the room, and Afi screamed and jumped away as Sivan groaned from the floor and rolled onto his back. He was several shades paler than Lia had ever seen him, and his breath was coming in short gasps. Lia rose immediately and raced to him, dropping to her knees at his side.

“Sivan, what happened?” she asked him, alarmed. The other girls quickly joined her, and Carla knelt on Sivan’s other side and pressed a hand to his forehead.

“He’s on fire,” she said. “He needs medical attention. Girls, go find a healer.”

Jemma and Afi rushed from the room, and Lia exchanged a quick look with Carla before she returned to Sivan. “Can you speak?” she asked him. The fingers of his hand twitched, then motioned for her to come closer. She leaned in when she realized he was trying to talk.

“Poisoned,” he managed, his voice hoarse, and Lia looked up to Carla, who seemed to have heard what he’d said, if her expression was any indication.

“We need to get him to a bed,” said Lia.

“I’ll get him there. Grab something for him to drink. There should be a glass of water by Gaia’s bed.”

As Carla struggled to lift Sivan—who, to Lia’s relief, seemed able to shuffle his feet—Lia found the glass by Gaia’s bed and then joined them at hers. Carla helped Sivan lay down and sat on her own bed, watching them. It wasn’t until Lia offered Sivan the glass that she noticed he was already clutching something in one of his hands. When he saw her gaze on his clenched fist, he spared a quick glance at Carla, who was still watching the two of them with concern.

“It’s okay,” said Lia. “I trust her.”

Sivan coughed into his free hand and then swallowed hard. His voice was still weak when he spoke, but he managed to turn his head to look at Carla as he croaked, half-kidding, “Not a traitor, are you, Carla?”

“A traitor?” Carla repeated, shooting Lia a confused look. “What is he talking about?”

“I found this,” Sivan growled, and opened his fist at last. In it was a small corked vial with a single drop of purple fluid at the bottom. His hand trembled and Lia quickly took it from him. Carla watched the both of them with widened eyes as Sivan continued, “Got a bad feeling before supper, so I snuck into the back of the kitchens and tried one of everything before it was served. Didn’t start feeling sick until right before I found this on the floor of the kitchens. Then everyone else got sick; everyone who ate. Guards locked down the kitchens and started moving us to our quarters to be taken care of.” He paused there, out of breath, and Lia examined the purple drop in the vial as he recovered, her eyebrows furrowed.

“I hid the vial while they helped me, then got up when they left me for a minute. Came straight here. Everyone’s sick; every noble…” He launched into a coughing fit, then winced when he saw a few specks of blood in his palm. “But I had an idea.”

“Is Jade sick, too?” Lia asked. Sivan nodded wordlessly. “Everyone? All the suitors, too? And Sir Henrik?”

Again, Sivan nodded. “I think so. I saw Rolfe and Tanos collapse firsthand. Hughes was carried out by two guards.” He sucked in a breath. “Listen. Most poisons aren’t purple in color. This one’s rare. Let me tell you what it’s doing to me. Then you can go to the library. Find out what it might be. There could be a cure.”

“What about the guards?” asked Lia.

“Won’t be around. Nearly the whole guard is at the kitchens, containing everyone who could’ve done this. The rest are spread out along the halls near the nobles’ quarters.”

“Can you show me where the library is?” Lia asked Carla.

Carla nodded shortly. “Of course. Let me get something to write down his symptoms with.” She rose quickly and moved across the room, and Lia turned to Sivan and reached out to take his hand, finally asking the question on the tip of her tongue.

“Are you dying?”

“Hard to say.” Sivan struggled for another breath. “Feels like someone’s sitting on my chest. Head’s on fire. And I’ve already retched twice already. It’ll take several hours to kill me either way, judging by Vincent’s and Rolfe’s reactions last time.”

Carla was already scribbling down notes as she returned to them. “We have to hope that it’s another non-lethal dose,” she said. “If the food was dosed and everyone had the same serving, then everyone dies or everyone doesn’t, right? So if you live, everyone else should be okay, too.”

“Might work that way,” Sivan replied, clutching at his stomach with a pained wince. “Either way, you should hurry.” Lia pressed a hand to his forehead and shared another look with Carla. Though she was concerned for Sivan, her mind was pulling her in several different directions. If Sivan was dying, then so was Jade. So were all three suitors, assuming they’d all three truly been poisoned. Had the goal from the very beginning really been to prevent a wedding altogether?

Afi and Jemma returned then, out of breath, and announced, “There weren’t any healers in their quarters. We couldn’t find any guards there, either.”

“That’s okay,” said Lia. “We’re going to need you two here.”

“We did find him, though,” Afi added, and when Lia looked up, she saw Kaleb standing behind them in the doorway. He offered her a quick nod.

“The healer watching me got the bad news and rushed out. I thought maybe you’d know what was going on.” He looked down to Sivan and grimaced. “He’s poisoned, too? How bad is it?”

“We’re still figuring that out,” said Lia, returning her attention to Sivan. “Anything else you can tell us?”

“Having trouble moving my fingers. And my mouth tastes like…” He paused for a moment, grimacing. “…like metal and something sweet, maybe coconut?”

“The metal’s probably from the blood,” Carla supplied. To the two younger girls, she ordered, “You two stay here and make sure he doesn’t get any worse. If he does, one of you should go try to find a healer near the kitchens or the nobles’ quarters, though unfortunately I doubt they’d take the time to help a servant given that there are so many nobles sick as well.” She rose from her bed, the parchment in her hand, and looked to Kaleb. “I’m guessing you’re going to want to come with us, then?”

Kaleb nodded. “Of course. Lead the way.”

10

With the majority of the guards, staff, and nobles contained to a few upstairs corridors and the kitchens, the hallways were eerily deserted. The candles that normally lined them hadn’t been lit, making it hard for Lia to see, though she was able to follow Carla as long as she didn’t fall behind. Kaleb trailed just a few feet behind them, and when she turned to glance back at him, she saw him pausing to lean down and retrieve a dagger he’d strapped to his ankle.

“Expecting a fight?” she asked him, and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Just a precaution. The castle’s in chaos. If I were looking to cause even more, now would be the perfect time to do it.”

“So who are you, really?” cut in Carla, glancing over her shoulder at Lia. “And more importantly, why was Sivan allowed to know and not me?”

“Sivan found out this morning,” Lia explained, distracted. Kaleb’s words had conjured an uneasy image in her mind: of Jade, lying alone in bed, sick and potentially dying, with only a few guards between herself and a group that had proven themselves more than capable of murder. “I would’ve gotten around to telling you eventually. Probably.” She glanced back to Kaleb again, unable to get the thought to leave her head. “Carla and I can go to the library alone. You should check on Jade.”

“If she’s dying, we’ll need to see her soon, but right now the guards will be all over her,” Kaleb reminded her. “You’re the person who most needs protection right now.”

“See her soon?” echoed Lia, confused. “We can’t cure her unless we find out what this is, and you’ve just said her guards are protecting her. Why else would we see her?” Kaleb shot her a strange look and glanced to Carla before he spoke next.

“So she can read,” he explained cryptically, and Lia turned away from him abruptly, shocked at herself for forgetting. The sudden realization that this was still just a job to Kaleb was startling. He’d hardly even spoken to Jade. He didn’t know a thing about her.

“Again: still wondering who you are,” Carla interjected. She led them up a staircase Lia had never been to before, and at her questioning look, Carla elaborated, “This way should take us out of the way of the noble’s quarters. We’ll avoid the guards.”

“I’ll tell you what I told Sivan,” said Lia. “I think Jade’s in danger and that someone in the castle wants to influence who she marries. I came here to try to prevent anything from going wrong.”

“Do you think you can cure her and the others?”

“I don’t know,” Lia admitted. “But I just can’t imagine it’s a fatal dose. What does killing so many nobles accomplish?”

“The same thing that killing the emperor and his son accomplished: chaos,” repeated Kaleb.

“Wait,” interjected Carla, wary. “Do you really believe that whoever was responsible for Levian and Cedric’s murders could also be responsible for this? Do you have any proof?”

“We’ll explain later,” Lia assured her. “Just get us to the library.”

They wound quickly through several more corridors before, at last, they came to a door at a dead end. “Here it is,” Carla declared.

Lia examined the door’s handle and saw that it was a bronze color, not silver, but she had little time to dwell on it before Carla pushed the door open and entered the room. Kaleb and Lia exchanged a brief look before following.

It was exactly as it had looked in Lia’s dreams, down to the placement of every shelf and book. She stared, enthralled, even as Kaleb moved past her to ask Carla, “What are we looking for?”

“There should be some books on poisons in the back. Follow me. And hurry up.”

Carla led them toward the back of the library, and they came to a stop just a few feet from the shelf in the back left corner, where Lia’d found the book on flora in her dream. Now she didn’t spare a thought for it, and knelt with Carla and Kaleb by the center shelves to scan the titles of several books and scrolls in front of them. Kaleb suddenly snatched at one of the books and rose to his feet.

“Here. This one lists poisons by symptom. That should work, right?”

“I’ll keep looking in case it doesn’t. Help me out while Lia looks through it,” said Carla. To Lia, she advised, “I’d check the rarer properties first. Maybe they’ll have a section on taste or color.”

“If we find out what this is,” asked Kaleb, “do you think we’ll be able to figure out who’s been doing the poisonings?”

“It should hopefully narrow the field,” said Lia, opening the book and hastily flipping through several pages at once. “A poison like this must be hard to get your hands on.”

“There are a few shipping companies that I’ve heard will transport black market goods,” said Kaleb as he scanned a nearby shelf. “But a poison that could kill a castle full of people within hours at a high enough dose? That’s a purchase you’re making face to face.”

“Or a poison you’re making yourself,” interjected Carla.

“Here,” announced Lia, spotting a section on tastes. Carla and Kaleb rejoined her, looking over each of her shoulders as she ran her finger down the first page. “Coconut,” she spotted at last. “There’s only one kind of poison listed here that leaves an aftertaste of coconut. It also causes numbness in extremities, fever, nausea, vomiting, and shortness of breath when used in lower doses. At high doses, it’s also fatal. It’s purple in color. This is it.” Lia’s face fell. “Look at this.” She pointed to the end of the entry, where several sentences seemed to have been brushed over with black ink, rendering them unreadable. “Someone was a step ahead of us. The book’s been tampered with.”

“Those sentences were probably instructions on curing it,” Kaleb realized, taking the book from her to examine it himself.

“Why leave the poison in the book but remove the cure?” asked Lia. “So it’s fine if we figure out what’s doing this, but not how to stop it?”

“I don’t know,” replied Kaleb, looking just as baffled as Lia felt.

“We’ll check other books,” said Carla. “Does it at least list ingredients?”

“Yes, those are still here,” confirmed Kaleb. There’s nothing here that I haven’t heard of before, except for… broadleaf coconut shavings.” He looked up at them. “What are broadleaf coconuts?”

“Let’s check the books on flora,” Carla suggested, moving past them toward the shelf in the corner. “If broadleaf coconuts are known for being poisonous, there might be a cure listed there as well. I think there’s one book back here that covers everything in Eveinia.”

“Eveinian Flora,” said Lia, unthinkingly.

Kaleb and Carla both shot her strange looks and Carla replied, “Yes. I thought you hadn’t been here before?”

“I just… I’ve heard of the book before,” muttered Lia. The excuse seemed to satisfy Carla, but Kaleb studied her suspiciously for a moment longer before turning away to look toward the front of the library. “Is it back there?” Lia asked Carla.

“Yes.” Carla plucked the book from the shelf and began to flip through it, and Lia stared after her, conflicted. At last, she moved to join Carla.

“I’ll help you look.” She glanced down to the numbers at the bottom as Carla continued to turn pages, then let out a slow breath and forced herself to focus on the text. Jade, Sivan, and dozens of others were in danger. That had to be her priority.

“I’ll watch the door,” Kaleb suggested. “If a guard shows up, I’ll act like I was in here alone. You don’t want to be caught anywhere strange at a time like this, and the library on the opposite side of the castle from your quarters would certainly qualify.”

Lia looked over at him to nod, then returned her gaze to the book. Another glance at the page number told her they’d passed the eighty-seventh. Carla huffed suddenly and realized, “They’ve done it by nation, not by letter.”

“Check Astaru first,” suggested Lia abruptly. It was Tanos’s home nation. Though Sivan had said he’d been poisoned, he still seemed to be the most logical suspect, particularly given that Sivan’s judgement had not exactly been at its clearest when he’d claimed to have seen all three suitors react to the poison.

“Why Astaru?” asked Carla, though she moved to follow Lia’s instructions all the same.

“If someone’s trying to eliminate suitors, the likely suspects are the other suitors, their competition,” Lia explained.

“But now they’ve all been poisoned. So it seems to me that someone wants to get rid of all of them.”

“Maybe.” She watched Carla come to a stop suddenly and place her finger near the top of a page.

“There. Broadleaf coconuts. They only grow in Astaru, and ‘a deadly poison can be made from their shavings, making them extremely difficult to find, as they’ve been outlawed by all large-scale traders’.” Carla looked up. “It’s the first sentence.”

“Only someone who’s been to Astaru recently could be responsible,” said Lia. “Do you know anyone else here who fits other than Tanos?”

“No,” said Carla quietly. “Do you?”

“No.” Lia returned her attention to the book and read the next line. “It says, ‘Though there is no complete cure for the poison, a paste made from the Usteran five-tongued orchid has been known to alleviate symptoms and render fatal doses injurious at worst.’”

“Lia, we have those growing out in the gardens,” said Carla, an almost disbelieving smile beginning to form on her lips. “We can save them!”

“STOP!”

Carla and Lia spun toward the library’s entrance quickly at Kaleb’s shout, and Lia moved swiftly when she heard the door to the library slam. Carla shoved the book back onto the shelf and then hurried to follow, but by the time they’d arrived at the door, Kaleb had rushed from the library and was nowhere to be found. Lia immediately reached for the door’s handle, but Carla caught her by the arm, wide-eyed, and asked her, “What are you doing?”

“Following him,” Lia said, as though it was obvious, and pulled her arm from Carla’s grip.

“He said he didn’t want us to get caught,” Carla reminded her.

“Did that sound like him being caught by a guard to you?” Lia asked her. “Look, you go to the gardens before whoever did this realizes that we’ve found a way to treat it. I’m following Kaleb.”

“But—” Carla began. Lia left before she could finish, pushing the door open and rushing out into the hallway. She could hear distant footsteps in the next corridor, and hurried to pursue them. She rounded the corner in time to see Kaleb make a right at the end of the following corridor.

“Kaleb!” she shouted, racing after him. She knew the noise would likely attract attention, but it didn’t seem to matter, suddenly. Something had spooked Kaleb enough that he’d left her on her own, without protection, at a time when she was the least safe she’d been since their arrival in Thesp. Whatever or whoever Kaleb had spotted, it had to be something big.

She rounded another corner and suddenly slipped and fell hard onto her side, slamming her head into the stone floor. Bright spots dotted her vision, and she glanced down at the ground as liquid began seeping into her glove. Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion and she blinked several times to ensure that her eyes were working properly. The liquid she’d slipped on wasn’t water; it was red, and it was leaving an increasingly large stain on her glove.

She twisted her body up and immediately scrambled away, horrified, as her vision began to clear. The blood had pooled around the body of one of the castle guards and formed a puddle that spanned the corridor’s entrance. His eyes were still open, but they were blank, and his sword rested on the ground not far from his hand. It, too, was covered in blood.

Trembling, Lia looked further down the hall and saw that the bodies of two more guards rested only feet away. The blood on the floor tapered off further down the hallway, leaving only two small trails of bloody footprints – one small, like a woman’s, and the second much larger—which led into a room halfway down the corridor. Even as Lia stared at the closed door, a loud bang sounded, making her jump, and the door rattled violently.

Lia scrambled to her feet, grabbed for the sword of the guard closest to her, and then raced toward the door without a second thought. She knew, instinctively, that Kaleb was inside, and she pounded against the closed door when she met resistance. “Kaleb!” she shouted.

The door gave way on her next push even as she heard him choke out, “Don’t!”

The sight inside sent her pounding heart straight into her throat. The floor of the bedroom, not unlike the hallway, was covered with blood, but Lia’s eyes settled on Kaleb before she could take in any more. He was pressed against the far wall by a hooded figure, a hand curled around his throat as he struggled to pry it away. His dagger rested on the floor at his feet, the blade now covered in blood, and his face was rapidly turning purple. He made eye contact with Lia even as she saw the last of his strength give out. “Get out,” he rasped, and then his arms dropped limply to his sides as he lost consciousness.

The hooded figure released him and turned to face Lia as Kaleb sank to the floor, and Lia clutched the sword in her hand tightly, staring down the woman in front of her. Familiar short, raven hair framed her pale face, and the stare she gave Lia was expressionless. She didn’t recognize Lia. But Lia recognized her. It was the same hooded woman from her dream: the one she’d seen in Vriidmont’s castle on the night of Levian’s murder.

Lia raised her sword, and, at last, the woman’s face changed. Both of her eyebrows rose slightly and then furrowed, as though she was both impressed and concerned, and the edges of her lips curved downward in disappointment.

“I don’t have to kill you too, servant girl,” she murmured. “Move out of the way.”

Lia glanced past her and at last took in the rest of the room. She was in the king and queen’s quarters, and in the bed behind the woman, Lia could see Jade’s mother lying completely still, bleeding freely from a deep head wound. Beside the bed, Aldis was on the floor in a pool of his own blood, with a gaping stab wound to his chest.

When Lia’s eyes returned to the woman, she nodded at Lia and pulled back part of her cloak, revealing a dagger with a visibly bloody handle resting in the inside pocket. “Move,” she repeated.

“No,” Lia breathed out, shaking her head and swallowing down the sickness in her throat. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You’re a brave girl,” said the woman, though she looked unsurprised.

A series of shouts and footsteps echoed in the distance, accompanied by the noise of rattling metal as what sounded like several more guards made their way toward the bedroom. Lia turned her head toward the noise for just a moment, only to have the woman barrel right through her and out into the corridor with unexpected swiftness. Lia’s back slammed into the stone wall, but she recovered quickly and raced after the woman as she sprinted back the way they’d come, away from the shouts and the footsteps. But it only took a few seconds for Lia to realize that she was being outpaced, in large part due to the heavy sword she still clutched in her hand.

Still, she followed the sound of the woman’s footsteps and the slowly fading trail of blood they left behind, until suddenly she couldn’t hear anything at all over the sound of grinding stone.

She entered a new corridor just as the noise stopped, and faltered, uncertain. The blood trail had tapered off altogether, and the halls were silent around her.

Lia knew instinctively that she’d gotten herself lost even as she rushed down to the other end of the corridor and peered around the corner. The halls were deserted. The woman was gone.

She returned to the previous corridor and looked around at the walls that surrounded her, eyebrows furrowed. She recalled one of the first things that Carla had ever shared with her: her story of the history of the castle, and of the passageways and rooms supposedly hidden within it. She studied the stones on the floor, growing increasingly frustrated, and felt tears beginning to leak from her eyes. What had happened to Kaleb, the guards, and both of Jade’s parents was starting to creep into the edges of her thoughts, and she forced it aside and wiped at her eyes with a bloodied glove. Her head throbbed painfully and she ignored it, turning her attention to the unlit candles that lined the hallway, and the sconces that held them. Then she froze, remembering.

At the end of the corridor was the strange brass sconce she’d found during her earlier wanderings around the castle. She reached up and took hold of it with her free hand, then tried her hardest to twist it to the left, and then to the right. It wouldn’t budge. Frustrated, she pulled at it, first up and then down, and when that didn’t work, she yanked it outward, only for it to completely give way.

A stone slab about two feet wide slid downward next to the sconce, grinding against the wall on either side of it, and revealed a ladder that led down into a dark, cavernous hole. Lia stepped back instinctually, afraid, but when the woman did not immediately emerge from the darkness and attack her, she stared for a long moment, gripping the sword in her hand tighter. Then she turned and stepped down onto the ladder without a second thought, struggling to keep her grip with one hand while she clutched the sword in the other. A few seconds later, the stone slab slid upward above her.

When the stone was back in place, Lia was met with complete silence, and a darkness so thick that she couldn’t see her hand an inch in front of her face. Each of her breaths suddenly sounded impossibly loud, and they came quicker and quicker as she felt fear seizing her body once again. The woman she’d followed was likely not only responsible for the deaths of Jade’s parents, the three guards assigned to them, and perhaps even Kaleb, but also for the deaths of the emperor and his son.

Still, Lia couldn’t let her escape unchallenged. She shifted one foot lower, and then the other, slowly and carefully descending the ladder until she felt her foot press into softer ground. Dirt.

She paused there, listening in the darkness for signs that she wasn’t alone. The hooded woman had gotten a large head start, and she’d been moving quickly, but it wasn’t a stretch to think that she’d heard the stone move again and had doubled back to take care of pursuers.

But Lia heard nothing, and so she crept forward, using the hand that wasn’t holding the sword to feel along the wall beside her. The space was tight, but she was thankful for it, as it left little room for her to be ambushed. She kept her sword poised with the point out, ready to thrust it forward at any sign of danger.

The minutes ticked by and Lia wondered what Grerick would think of her now. She knew he’d find her actions reckless, but if her suspicions were correct, then it was this woman who’d set off the chain of events that had directly led to Lia’s Seerhood. She worked for Sincaeles. She’d know who exactly Raus was and where to find him, and she’d be able to confirm that Tanos was who Raus wanted Jade to marry. Lia couldn’t pass up the chance to confront her and get answers, even if it meant risking her own life in the process.

The tunnel curved to the left, eventually, and it was as Lia followed it around the bend that at last it began to grow lighter. Several twists and turns were visible ahead, each brighter than the last, until finally, she paused at a corner and peered around it, out into a large cave with an exit on the far side. In the center of the chamber was a crackling fire, where a large pot swung over a pile of hot coals. A single bedroll rested just feet away, and a small, wooden table had been placed on the far side, along with a stool to match. In another corner rested several bags, some of which visibly contained various types of beans. There looked to be enough food to sustain one person for at least another month.

She heard a soft sigh from an area of the cavern she couldn’t see, and quickly retreated around the corner, pressing her back to the wall and closing her eyes as she tried to quiet her breathing. She heard footsteps move from one side of the cave to another, and then the sound of metal clanging against wood. She took a moment to gather herself, and then slowly leaned out around the corner again.

The woman had not escaped from Thesp at all. Instead, she was seated at the table, using a wooden spoon to scrape what looked to be beans out of a metal bowl and into her mouth. Her hands and cheeks were still covered in dried blood. When she lowered her hood and brushed her hair aside, her neck was briefly exposed, and Lia saw, to her own surprise, that the skin there was bare and unscarred. If this woman had ties to Sincaeles, they were flimsy enough that she hadn’t bothered to have gotten branded.

Lia was under no delusions about her own abilities. She was strong and quick, but this woman was quite likely both stronger and quicker. She moved like a trained assassin. But even despite her own fear, Lia couldn’t bring herself to just turn back and risk the woman vanishing while she went for help. She had to try, and she had to do it alone.

Lia inhaled sharply, squared her shoulders, and then moved out from behind the wall quickly, rushing into the chamber with her sword held high. The woman twisted toward her immediately, at attention, and barely had time to jerk out of the way as Lia slashed at her. The sword caught the woman’s arm just enough to slice through skin, and Lia heard a soft grunt as flecks of blood peppered the dirt floor beneath them. The sight left her feeling queasy, but she pressed forward anyway, rushing forward once again as the woman used her uninjured arm to remove the dagger from her cloak. Lia froze, hesitating, and for a moment they watched each other, both breathing hard, weapons outstretched threateningly toward one another.

Then the woman tilted her head to the side, clearly perplexed, and her eyes narrowed slightly. “You really are a brave girl,” she repeated at last. “But perhaps… a little unintelligent.”

“We don’t have to fight,” said Lia, determined to keep her voice steadier than the sword shaking in her hands. “You can come quietly. I just want to talk.”

The woman’s eyebrow rose and she smiled, amused. “You have a funny way of showing it.” Her bleeding arm didn’t seem to be having of an effect on her, for she didn’t show any signs of pain as she continued, “You just watched me kill five people and choke your friend into unconsciousness. What makes you think that I’d be willing to ‘come quietly and talk’?”

Lia hid her relief at Kaleb’s fate, and chose her words carefully as she replied, “Because you choked my friend into unconsciousness when you could have killed him. You showed him mercy.”

“That was a show of respect, not of mercy,” said the woman. She lifted her tunic and Lia saw a large bandage had been wrapped around her midsection. “He got me, so I didn’t get him.”

“But you only killed who you had to,” Lia insisted. “The guards. And then the king and queen. Someone hired you to do it, didn’t they?”

“Well, now I’m confused again,” murmured the woman, eyeing her curiously. “You seem so smart—smart enough to find me all the way down here; smart enough to realize that I’ve been hired to kill people—and yet, you chose to come here. Why would a servant girl risk her life to have this conversation? Clearly you aren’t very skilled with a sword or I’d be dead by now.”

“Because,” replied Lia, thinking quickly, “I care about my friend. And I want her to marry the right person. I think your boss—that is, the man who hired you—wants her to marry one of those three men, and I think that you can tell me which one it is.”

“I would never share that with you,” dismissed the woman. “Part of my agreement with my employers is that I keep private information private. The suitor’s identity will remain a secret.”

That was it. Unknowingly or not, the woman had confirmed that one suitor was the incorrect choice, which meant that it had to be Tanos. That information, at the very least, made Lia’s risk worth it provided she could survive their encounter.

“And,” the woman continued, twirling the dagger in her hand, “I will not be surrendering myself to you.” She caught the handle in her palm and then beckoned Lia forward, teasing. “So unless you plan to rethink this fight, I’m curious to see what a servant girl can do with a sword.”

They studied each other for a moment, and Lia grit her teeth, willing her hands to stop shaking. “Fine,” she said at last, and felt nauseas even as her mouth formed the word. Her training sessions with Kaleb felt like they’d taken place years ago, and she felt confident that Grerick had never meant for her to encounter Levian’s killer so soon, and all on her own. She took a deep breath, and her next words came on an exhale. “I guess you’ll find out.”

The woman gave her a toothy grin and then darted forward, swinging slowly and loftily at her with the dagger. Lia blocked it easily and moved away, her body tense and her sword raised defensively. The woman looked impressed. “Alright, not quite the beginner we seemed to be. Let’s try again.”

Next, she stepped in and slashed down toward Lia’s shoulder, then again at her hip. Lia parried both away and stepped back, aware that she was being toyed with. She tensed her jaw and reset her stance, then stepped forward and swung quickly. Metal clanged against metal and Lia pressed in with every ounce of strength she had, only to be met in kind. Frustrated, she pushed off and stepped away. The woman smirked at her and raised her dagger, preparing to engage her again. “And once more...”

Lia found herself backing away and parrying blows swiftly, her body moving faster than her mind could keep up. With Kaleb, her arms would have grown tired by now, she knew, but adrenaline was rushing through her veins, keeping her entire body on edge. Her sword felt weightless. The woman stepped forward and Lia stepped back, again and again, until Lia blocked one swing of the dagger with more force than the woman had anticipated, and in the split second it took her to recover, Lia’s leg darted forward and caught the woman’s ankle, knocking her off-balance.

Lia moved quickly, bearing down on her with the sword, but the woman rolled to the side and the sword was instead embedded deeply into the dirt. Lia was forced to release it to dart backward as the next swing of the dagger missed her face by inches. Her back slammed into the dirt wall directly behind her, surprising her enough for the rough impact to knock the breath out of her. Taking advantage of her momentary disorientation, the woman cornered her and stabbed the dagger into the wall less than an inch from her head, hovering in front of her with the smirk returned to her lips.

“I’m impressed. But you should always keep an eye on your surroundings,” she advised, and then sighed to herself as Lia glared at her. “Now, if it were any other job, I’d let you go. But unfortunately you’ve misunderstood my relationship with this particular employer. Normally, I do my job and don’t ask questions, but in this case my goals happen to overlap with those of my boss. And now you know a little bit more about him than you should. So it makes sense to let him decide what to do with you, don’t you think? He’s in the area, fortunately.” She sounded almost genuinely saddened as she added, “I’m going to have to keep you here.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Lia interjected, trying to keep the malice from her voice. “You can let me go.” If she could just get the woman to let her guard down for one moment, she could get to her sword. Perhaps she couldn’t win an outright fight, but there was a chance that she could find some way to catch her off-guard again, the way she had when she’d first entered the cave.

“You didn’t have to follow me,” the woman reminded her. “But I can be merciful. For now, I’m letting you live. I know it may be hard to believe, but I don’t like collateral damage. It seems unnecessarily cruel. I only gave you what you seemed to be able to handle.” Lia pressed back against the wall and swallowed hard, glaring at the frowning woman even as she pulled the dagger from the wall and stepped away. “In fact, I even made sure that the ones who did die felt nothing.”

“Did my friend feel nothing?” Lia hissed.

“Your friend kept his life. I can’t promise I’ll be able to say the same for you. You should’ve stayed at the castle.”

The woman’s eyes never left Lia’s as she replaced the dagger within her cloak, and Lia didn’t look away for a long moment. Then, when she could take the tension no longer, she pushed off of the wall and rushed forward, ramming her shoulder directly into the woman’s chest.

The woman absorbed the blow well, seizing Lia by the upper arms, pushing back against her, and taking only a few steps backward before she was able to find her footing and hold steady. Lia wrenched herself from the woman’s grip and scrambled across the dirt to pull at the hilt of her buried sword, but it didn’t immediately give way. Panicked, she left the sword behind and rushed to leap over the fire, racing for the exit at the far side of the chamber. She heard quick feet pound against the ground behind her as the woman pursued her.

Arms wrapped around her midsection and she went crashing to the ground on her stomach. The breath was knocked out of her once again, and as she struggled to recover she felt the woman’s knees press into her back. Nothing was said as calloused hands grabbed at both of Lia’s wrists and wrenched them behind her, and then moments later, promptly yanked her to her feet. Lia was still working to catch her breath when she was pushed to the ground next to the fire, her wrists and ankles freshly bound with rope and her ankles chained to the table.

“Scrappy,” said the woman, appraising her as at last Lia found the ability to breathe again. “Between that and the move you pulled with your foot, I’m starting to doubt that you’re just a servant girl after all.”

The woman walked away and retook her seat at the table, and then Lia watched, disgusted, as she tended to the wound on her arm. Lia wiggled her wrists and felt the rope grind against the glove of her right hand painlessly, but it bit into the skin of her left wrist, where the rope had been tied below the glove. She winced as her wrist burned, and then tried to move her ankles, but the chain there was so tight that it was already biting into her skin even without movement. She was stuck, trapped in a cavern that no one likely knew existed, at the end of a passageway no one living in the castle had likely ever found.

She was utterly on her own.

11

The woman stayed up with her for the entirety of the first night, lying calmly in her bedroll by the fire and making shadows on the cavern’s ceiling with her hands to entertain herself. It was clear to Lia that something was off about her, which only made the idea of successfully negotiating her way out seem that much more unlikely. Still, it was likely the only option she had left short of sneaking an escape, now that fighting her way out was out of the question.

Lia watched her for hours, waiting for her to fall asleep, but it didn’t take her long to realize that her captor was already well aware of Lia’s plot and had planned, in turn, to stay awake with her.

“What’s your name?” Lia finally growled out, when it grew obvious that neither of them were going to sleep.

“I don’t think I should tell you that,” said the woman idly.

“Why not?”

“Because then I’d certainly have to kill you.” The woman sat up and shifted to face her, smiling sympathetically from across the fire. “No one but my current employer has ever learned my name and lived, so there’s no use in telling you while I believe that you have a chance.”

“So you believe that I might live?” asked Lia, daring to be hopeful for just a moment.

“I think your chances are terrible. But there’s still a chance to speak of.”

“Your boss isn’t the merciful sort?” Lia guessed. If her assumption was correct, and the woman was working for Raus, then Grerick’s hunch had been right all along. Sincaeles had hired this woman to kill Levian and Cedric, and now they’d had her kill Jade’s parents, too.

“No. It’s something I dislike about him.”

“You’re an assassin who doesn’t like merciless people,” said Lia, confused. “That doesn’t make sense to me. Why become an assassin if you have an aversion to killing people?”

“Because I’m good at it and it pays well,” said the woman simply.

“So you feel nothing for the people whose lives you take?”

“Not when it wasn’t my choice to take them. I follow orders, and I get paid.”

“But you always have a choice,” Lia insisted. “Why choose to do a job you dislike for a man you admit you think is too harsh in his ways? I don’t understand.”

“You can be confused, or you can be dead,” said the woman. “Take your pick.”

“Then at least give me something to call you,” Lia suggested, frustrated. “Beans? Raven? Cavewoman? Take your pick.”

“Fine.” The woman paused for a moment and closed her eyes, thinking. “Call me Talia,” she suggested at last. “She was—”

“A thief who stole the Queen of Desdwin’s crown,” finished Lia, stone-faced. “I know. She’s my friend’s favorite legend. The friend you nearly killed.”

“She’s my favorite as well,” Talia said, smiling faintly. But after a moment, her smile faded, and she glanced to Lia briefly before lying back down again. “Perhaps we should be quiet for a while,” she suggested. “You could sleep.”

Lia rolled her eyes. “What, and miss out on the shadow puppets?”

“You’re very… plucky, for a girl who will likely be dead soon.” Talia seemed confused. “Aren’t you scared? I’ll admit I don’t have much experience with captives, but I’d expect someone with just days to live would act more like it.”

“If I’m really going to die, then is your employer going to kill me, or are you going to do it for him?” asked Lia flatly, not at all interested in the answer.

“It will probably be me,” said Talia, who either had missed her tone or was pretending to.

Lia let out a quiet breath and clenched her jaw, before settling onto her back at last, wheels still turning in her head. Getting under the woman’s skin wasn’t going to work; she was far too detached and aloof. But perhaps getting into her head would.

Talia left the cavern for five minutes in the early morning, and Lia spent the entire time experimenting with putting the ropes binding her wrists into the fire. Her gloves helped to protect her hands from the worst of the flames, but even with them on, the heat was nearly unbearable, and she couldn’t get the fire to have any real effect on the rope unless she held it inside the flames for several seconds on end.

The result was an excruciating pain in her wrists that left her in tears and persisted even after she’d moved away from the flames. She struggled to ignore the stinging entirely, determined to avoid showing weakness in front of Talia, who cooked beans in the pot for the both of them when she returned. Lia’d already given up on burning through her ropes over a minute before she’d come back, too afraid to be caught in the act, and if Talia was at all suspicious of her, she certainly didn’t show it.

“Those people that were poisoned,” Lia asked her abruptly. “Were they meant to die?”

“They’ll be sick for another day or so, I’d imagine. But eventually, they’ll all recover.”

“So the poison was just to send the guards into a panic so you could sneak in and reach the king and queen,” Lia guessed. Talia didn’t answer. “So it really doesn’t bother you, killing innocent people?”

“They weren’t innocent.”

“They were sick in their beds. Defenseless.”

“They weren’t innocent,” Talia repeated, glaring over at Lia. “Nobles never are.”

Lia watched her for a moment, studying the hatred in her face. Talia had already expressed a need for money, and she disliked nobles. There had to be a reason why. “What about Jade?” Lia pressed. “She’s barely a woman. You killed both of her parents. She found out that both of her parents are dead last night.” The thought made her throat close up, and she shook her head silently. Her heart ached for Jade, who likely felt she had nothing left. A part of Lia hoped that the remaining suitors had been sent away entirely to give Jade time to grieve, but somehow she doubted that was the case.

“Maybe the girl will be the one to usher in a new age,” suggested Talia. “One where the peoples’ voices are heard, regardless of their wealth or of what nation they come from.”

“So that’s what this is about,” Lia realized. “You grew up in one of the poor nations. Do you feel justified because you had a rough childhood?” Despite her better judgement, she was unable to hide her disgust. “Your voice wasn’t heard so now you snuff out the voices of others entirely?”

“I snuff out the voices so loud they drown out thousands of others,” snapped Talia. “Why should other nations live in squalor while Sperath, Ustera, and Kedlen thrive? Why should one person be the voice of a world, picking and choosing favors to deliver based upon whatever most catches his eye?”

“You’re talking about the emperor,” clarified Lia. “And given what you’ve told me about your boss, his plan is probably to put someone into power that will do whatever he tells them to, right? And whatever you want, too, of course; you’re an assassin he’s hired to kill for him, after all. So it’s okay for one person to pick and choose who he helps as long as he’s helping you.”

“Better for the silent to finally be heard than for their silencers to continue ignoring them,” said Talia.

“I’d like to live in a world where no one is silenced.”

“While admirable, I’m hard-pressed to think of a way to achieve a world like that. Aren’t you? There will always be those who have power and those who do not.”

“All it takes is for the right person to have the power,” said Lia. “Someone who cares about the people who don’t. Like Emperor Levian.”

“Levian wasn’t good enough,” said Talia. “He came from a bloodline that believed they were divinely chosen; inherently better than the rest of us. As a result of this, he favored Sperath, the birthplace of his grandmother. No, what we need is someone to rule who’s no different from the rest of us. The exact opposite of Levian.”

“Is that why your employer had you kill him?” Lia blurted, unable to help herself.

Talia’s eyes flickered over to her as she lifted the pot from the fire. There was a long silence. And then, with an unreadable expression, she confirmed, “Yes. Now who are you, really, other than a girl who’ll be dead in a few days?”

“Don’t I deserve a real name, then?” Lia asked, ignoring her question.

Talia seemed unamused, but seemed to realize that Lia had no intention of giving her an answer. “My real name is Tala.”

“You gave me a fake name one letter off from your real name?” Lia was incredulous.

“Perhaps a part of me knew you’d be dead either way,” replied Tala, and moved to pour the cooked beans into a bowl. “And she really is my favorite legend.”

It took another day for Lia to eat even a morsel of food. It wasn’t for lack of wanting to, but while she could conceal the stress of her situation and put on a brave face for Tala despite her pain, she couldn’t hide that it was destroying her appetite. Tala, much to Lia’s shock, seemed to feel genuine sympathy for her, and always had a bowl of beans ready for her in case her appetite ever returned.

“I think I’ve worked it out,” Lia told her the following evening, as Tala lay down on her bedroll. She’d still hardly slept since Lia’s capture; the most Lia had ever witnessed was about an hour at a time. She rarely left the cavern either, giving Lia little to no opportunity to try to burn through her ropes. In fact, she was sure that Tala had caught onto her plan, for she frequently replaced the bindings on Lia’s wrists, but never the chains on her ankles, and had no doubt seen her injuries there in the process.

“Worked what out?” Tala wondered, shooting her a curious look.

“Your boss’s big plan. I mean, if I’m dead anyway, I might as well share my theory.”

“Go ahead.”

“Well, you killed Jade’s parents for a reason. My best guess is that the sooner they’re out of the way, the sooner she claims the Sperathian throne. She’ll have to rush the wedding now, maybe even in the next few days. Then your boss’s friend marries her, the two of them stake a claim for the emperor’s throne, and your boss uses his two new puppets—Jade and her husband—to run Eveinia as he sees fit. But what I don’t understand is how he plans to get around a few key setbacks.”

“Such as?” Tala asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

“Well, first of all, she has to marry the right man. There are still three left, and at this point, I think it’d be fairly obvious if two of them suddenly fell ill again and had to leave. Jade won’t choose the man your boss wants her to.”

“And if he manages to get around that? What’s the next setback?” Tala wondered.

“Well, the Seer, of course,” said Lia. “Your boss’s friend can’t just be the emperor or the emperor’s husband when there’s a Seer running around plucking up twelve divinely chosen heirs to take the position. It doesn’t work that way.”

“So he eliminates the Seer,” said Tala, “leaving the new Sperathian king and queen as the best options to rule.”

“How? He doesn’t know who it is, or where to find them.”

“He has contacts around the world working on that for him. He doesn’t need to know.”

“And you really think that’s for the best?” wondered Lia. “To kill the Seer?”

“I didn’t share that view initially, like the others, I’ll admit,” said Tala. “But I understand why they believe what they do. Sincaeles, that is. By necessity, the Seer must die both so that the next emperor does not view himself as any greater than the people he rules and so that Sincaeles may have some control over who becomes the next emperor. My boss and I may have different methods, but I trust that he believes what he believes. His family, too, grew up with nothing.”

“And what exactly is he doing now, then?” asked Lia. “You said that he was nearby. When are you going to get his permission to kill me?”

“I’ll be able to contact him soon,” Tala promised. “I would think you’d be enjoying the delay.”

“I don’t eat. I hardly sleep. I don’t speak with my family. My best friend was nearly killed and another friend just lost her parents. What part of living am I supposed to be enjoying? If nothing I say will make you let me go, then why am I still alive?” Lia wondered.

“I’m enjoying the company and the conversation,” said Tala. “If we hadn’t met like this, I’d have gladly let you live. Perhaps in another life we might have even found common ground and become friends.”

Lia shot the woman an incredulous look. “Are you a murderer in that other life?”

“I would hope not,” replied Tala, looking somewhat wistful. “Maybe one day I’ll no longer be one in this life, either.”

“Your past will always be your past,” said Lia. “You can’t change it. You can only change who you become.”

“Oh. Not such an idealist on this topic, are we?” teased Tala.

Lia glared at her and did not reply.

On the third day, Tala disappeared without any explanation for several hours.

For the first hour, Lia worked at the ropes around her wrists, repeatedly placing them into the fire and biting down on a stick she’d gathered from the ground to try to get herself through the pain. She’d long past seared her wrists and charred the bottoms of her gloves, and each time she’d move her arms, the rope would rub along her burn wounds, sending her into another bout of insurmountable pain she’d have to struggle to keep Tala from seeing.

By the time she reached the second hour, she’d become both unable and unwilling to continue, as she assumed Tala would be back at any moment. And during the third, she struggled to try to get to her feet, with the same results she’d been having since her first day. The chains were too tight, and even if she were able to move on her feet, she had no way of lifting the table to free the chain.

When Tala did eventually return, it was with a grim look on her face. “Your boss came by to visit?” Lia guessed. The ropes around her wrists had been burnt halfway through, and when, in one last desperate attempt, she tried to wrench her arms apart, they bit into her wrists, sending shooting pain up and down her arm. She felt herself finally breaking down as tears welled up in her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Tala, too, looked unmistakably upset as she walked to the far side of the cave, where she’d placed the bags of food and several other items Lia had never gotten the chance to look at. Once there, she shuffled a few of the bags around and searched through several of the smaller ones until she retrieved a cleanly polished dagger. She studied the dagger for a moment, and then turned to Lia again.

“Do you have the appetite for another small meal?” she asked.

“No,” said Lia shortly.

“Very well.” Tala returned to her with the dagger, and Lia blinked at her through blurry vision, frustrated with herself.

“Why did he tell you to kill me?” she asked.

“You’re a very smart girl,” Tala told her. “You figured nearly everything out.”

“Nearly,” echoed Lia, unsurprised.

“Not everything.”

“Not how he’ll get Jade to marry the puppet,” Lia guessed, recalling the way Tala had avoided the subject when she’d first brought it up. “And I never figured out how you knew about the passageway, either.”

Lia stared as Tala knelt before her, feeling the last bit of hope drain from her. She’d failed. Eveinia’s next ruler would not be chosen by a Seer, as Grerick and Kaleb and the rest of the Keepers had hoped. But she found comfort in the knowledge that Carla would expose Tanos, and that perhaps Jade would be the one to rule Eveinia ultimately, anyway. Perhaps that was the way things were meant to be, as much as Jade had protested it. She was a ruler who’d be endorsed both by the Keepers and by the people who had become disenchanted with the idea of a Seer-chosen ruler: the perfect candidate to keep peace between the two parties. A compromise.

Lia only wished she’d been able to find her family. As she blinked away tears, she thought of her mother, reduced to a faceless woman from an unnamed nation, and wondered if her memories would return to her upon her death. Perhaps that was something worth dying for.

Behind Tala, one of the displaced bags near the collection of beans tipped over and fell on its side, and Lia looked up as a few small objects tumbled out into the dirt. She squinted at them, unable to see them clearly from a distance, but noted that something about them seemed oddly familiar.

“I want to ask you something,” Tala said to her, suddenly.

“If I can ask you something, as well,” Lia agreed, her eyes still on the bags behind her.

“What’s your name?”

Lia glanced back to see Tala staring directly at her. “Lia,” she answered. “After Talia, the thief from Desdwin. I swear it.”

Tala’s mouth twitched and the hand in which she held the dagger retreated just an inch, and for a moment, Lia wondered if she might change her mind. But then Tala took a breath and asked, “And your question?”

“What are those?” Lia used her head to gesture to the objects on the ground behind her.

Tala glanced over her shoulder, saw what Lia had been referring to, and smiled softly. “Oh. I should show them to you. Maybe you’ll…” she trailed off, clearly trying to find the right words for a moment, before she finished, “… think differently of me.”

She stood and walked to the bag, gathering the few objects in the dirt, and then brought the handful back to Lia, who felt her heart squeeze tight in her chest as soon as she realized what they were. The tears in her eyes dried up without her notice, and she trembled, both infuriated and reinvigorated.

“I used to fashion little figurines from marble, back when I was a girl,” explained Tala. “It’s a hobby I’ve kept over the years.”

Lia struggled to twist her lips into a smile. “You’re right. It does change what I think.”

“Good.” Tala set the figurines down on the ground and picked up her dagger, frowning at Lia. “Again. I’m sorry to do this. I wish things had been different.”

“They still can be,” said Lia, trying her best to appear earnest even as she stewed inside. “Tala, you can be whoever you want to be. I understand why you think you need to listen to this man, but you don’t have to do anything. You can change here, now. Together, we can make sure someone is on that throne who won’t neglect the poorer nations.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” said Tala, “though I wish it were. I wish we had the power. But you’re right about one thing.” She smiled, faintly. “I don’t have to listen to him, and I won’t. He told me to make sure that this hurt.”

“Wait!” Lia shouted, jerking backwards just as Tala’s arm shot forward. The dagger stopped short a few inches from her chest, and, breathing hard, she asked, “What if we did have the power?”

“It’s been established that we don’t, Lia.” Tala looked both tired and frustrated.

“If you’re going to kill me anyway, you should at least know who you’re killing,” Lia insisted. “Take off my gloves.”

Tala’s eyebrows furrowed, and she shook her head, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Take off my right glove,” said Lia, speaking slowly. Tala stared at her for a long moment, and Lia could see the wheels turning in her head. “Please.”

Wordlessly, Tala set the dagger out of Lia’s reach and then shifted around behind her. Lia felt her right glove being gingerly pulled from her hand, and then cool air hit her blistered palm and she clenched her teeth together.

“I get to choose, Tala,” she managed to say through gritted teeth. “I get to have the power. And I want you and people like you to be heard, which makes this power your power. You just have to give me the chance to prove that I’m on your side. Your boss isn’t the only person who can help you. He promised you that he wants to fix your home nation, right? I can make that same promise. I can choose someone who will rule fairly.”

Tala was silent behind her for what felt like minutes, before, at last, she pulled the glove back onto Lia’s hand and then returned to kneel before her. Lia eyed the dagger that rested on the ground just inches from Tala’s fingertips, but Tala made no move to reach for it.

“You’ll say anything to live,” she said, though it sounded like the beginning of a discussion, not a final declaration.

“I told you how I felt before I ever planned to tell you who I was,” Lia reminded her. “I said that I thought every person from every nation was equally important. You said it was admirable, but you thought that I didn’t have the power to make it a reality. Now you know that maybe I do.” When Tala didn’t immediately respond, Lia pressed, “Even if he’s being honest with you, what your boss wants is the same system that we’ve always had, but with a different group in charge. The great-grandsons of royalty become the thieves on the streets.”

“Maybe they deserve to know what it’s like.”

“Maybe they’re individual people who won’t have spent a day living in a castle, even if their ancestors did. No one deserves to not have a home. I’m not saying that I can promise you someone who can solve everything all at once, but I can promise you someone that will care, listen, and help. The civil war in Muthwole. The overcrowding in Escall. The poverty in Xosium and Desdwin. The raids in Astaru. I don’t know where you’re from, but I’ll choose someone who wants to work to fix all of it.”

“I’m not sure such a person exists,” muttered Tala. “That was the person Levian claimed to be. Why should I give you the chance to choose another Levian? He spoke just as you did, but his words were empty. He had twenty years on the throne and he did nothing but boost Sperath’s wealth.”

“Because I’m not Levian, and I’m willing to listen to you,” insisted Lia. “And because I’ll have the support of the people. Most of them still believe that the Seer should choose the next ruler. The people who feel strongly enough will rebel against your boss’s puppet just by nature of him not being chosen by a Seer, especially if they find out what really happened to me. His rule will be tyrannical. And for what? Though the rules and the beneficiaries may change, the system will be the same in the end: one group flourishes while another suffers. Your boss’s methods are extreme, and they won’t end Eveinia’s problems because they’ll create new ones. But my choice to rule will listen to me, and the people will listen to the new emperor. No one else has to suffer because of a negligent leader.”

Tala opened and closed her mouth for a moment, searching for words, and Lia fell silent, staring at her. At last, Tala spoke. “I know that your way would be best if you truly mean what you say. A ruler chosen by the Seer but who values the words of all people would serve as a common ground between the believers in divine selection and the people like myself. That’s something only you as the Seer can accomplish. The problem is that I don’t know if you’re sincere about the kind of ruler you hope to choose. Perhaps you don’t even know yourself, yet, with your mind so fresh. I know that my boss believes what he says, and so although his methods aren’t the most ideal, they’re more ideal than suffering through another Levian. He has my loyalty.”

“Tal—-” Lia began, but Tala raised a hand to silence her.

“You burned through your ropes while I met with him. When I came back, you were gone. I won’t tell him who you really are, but if we meet again and you can’t prove to me that you’ve stuck to your word, you’ll kill what little hope I’ve developed in you. And I’ll kill you. Do not choose another Levian.” She moved behind Lia and grabbed the dagger, then cut through the ropes binding her wrists removed the chains from her ankles. Lia slowly got to her feet, watching Tala carefully. She couldn’t quite believe that she was being set free. “Your friend’s getting married this evening, perhaps to the wrong man, or to the right one. Regardless, if you want to make it to the wedding, you’ll have to go now. I can assure you that trying to stop me from fleeing Thesp will not end will for you.”

“I won’t stop you,” replied Lia with sincerity, though it hurt her deeply to make such a promise when she thought of Jade and her parents and the guards that had died trying to protect them. “And I meant what I said.”

“As did I,” warned Tala, “so let’s hope for your sake that our paths don’t cross again.”

The cavern’s exit was on the far side of Thesp’s outer walls, and in order to return to the castle, Lia had to follow the wall around to the city’s front entrance. There, two guards waited, and they took one look at her disheveled appearance and immediately rushed forward to help her walk. “Miss, are you okay?” one asked her, and she nodded weakly, suddenly feeling the full brunt of hardly eating for several days in succession. Her wrists had gone numb from the pain, and had she not been so focused on getting to Jade, she might have worried that she’d lost feeling in them permanently.

“I just need to get to the castle,” she told the guards, but they exchanged a look above her she instinctively understood to mean that they thought she’d lost her mind. “I work there,” she tried again. “I’m one of the princess’s personal servants.”

“Queen Jade’s coronation was yesterday,” one of the guards said.

“Well, I’ve been out of touch for a few days, clearly,” snapped Lia, attempting to show them her gloves. Instead, they recoiled at the sight of the bloodstained material and the burns on her wrists.

“You need a healer,” one of them told her, urgent.

“I received these gloves from Bethilda,” she explained, and the guards shared a brief look of recognition. Lia sucked in a sharp breath, encouraged. “Yes! Bethilda. And Josef, who oversees the stables. Arin the guard captain, and Sir Henrik. I know them all. Please, contact any of them and tell them that I’ve been found.”

“With all due respect, there’s enough going on over there without an injured servant returning today,” one of the guards told her. “Both the king and the queen and several of their guards have been killed, the people of Thesp are outraged following Her Majesty’s pardoning of the only suspect, two suitors were abruptly removed without their consent, and the third is marrying Queen Jade in a few hours. Let’s get you to someone who can treat you, and then you can return to the castle tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Lia agreed, realizing they had no intention of giving in to her no matter what she said. They allowed her into the city and one of the guards took it upon himself to continue to help her to the local apothecary. She pretended to have trouble walking, though the newfound realization that she was going to have to make it to the castle on her own had sent a charge of adrenaline to every muscle in her body.

The apothecary was just in sight when the guard let his grip on her relax a little, and she immediately slipped away from him and sprinted down the street, much to the surprise of several citizens, who hastily darted out of the way to give her a clear path. “Wait!” the guard shouted after her, but when she glanced over her shoulder, he appeared to be making no effort to pursue her.

The trip seemed longer than it had when she’d first arrived on horseback, and she felt the energy beginning to drain from her as she pressed on. But she kept Jade’s wedding at the forefront of her mind, aware that she thought she was doing the right thing in the wake of her family falling apart, and it gave Lia the willpower to keep going. She had to stop Jade before she made a mistake she’d never be able to take back.

At the front entrance to the castle grounds, she found two guards standing post together, swords out of their hilts. It seemed that security had been understandably upped in the wake of the murders. One of the guards was visibly startled when he spotted her, and as Lia struggled to make it to them without losing consciousness, she heard him murmur, “It can’t be…”

The second took a hesitant step backwards when he noticed her wrists, and Lia slowed to a stop several feet away and simply blinked at them, suddenly very dizzy as the past three days and her draining run to the castle finally caught up with her all at once. She felt the last of her energy slip from her as her knees buckled. “I need to find the stable boy,” she told them, her vision going blurry, and then she promptly collapsed in a heap on the ground.

She awoke in a bed sometime later with a healer on one side and Kaleb on the other. His cheeks were stained with tear tracks, his eyes were red and puffy, and he clutched her right hand so tightly with both of his that it ached. Lia noticed most of her hands and the entirety of her wrists had been wrapped in bandages.

“Hi, Kaleb,” she murmured, forgetting herself for a moment. “Where am I?”

“In the castle, you stupid, reckless girl,” he breathed out, and then grinned brightly at her. “You’re safe.”

The healer at her side seemed to want to keep her distance from Kaleb, but she patted Lia just once on the knee and then told her, “Let me know if you need anything, dear,” before leaving the two of them alone.

“I wrapped your right side,” Kaleb told her quietly, still smiling as he patted gently at her right hand. “Made sure they didn’t see anything.”

“Thanks.” She noticed the series of bruises around his neck and frowned, concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. You missed a lot, Lia. Where were you? I don’t remember much, but the last time I saw you, you were face to face with that woman, and there was so much blood…” He swallowed with difficulty, his mind going elsewhere for a moment. “With everything that’d happened, the castle guards didn’t even try to search for you until a day later, when Jade was in a position to demand it. When you didn’t turn up, I assumed the worst. We all did.”

“I followed the woman,” admitted Lia. “Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I just wanted to fix everything. I’d seen her before.”

“When?”

“My very first night at Grerick’s. She was the woman from my dream. She killed the emperor and his son, and I thought maybe I could get some answers, but I couldn’t get away from her. She tied me up and kept me captive. I spent three days with her.”

“How did you escape?” Kaleb asked.

“She let me go. She told me…” Lia paused, suddenly, and then abruptly sat up in her bed, recalling the events of her day all at once. “We have to go right now. How long was I asleep for?”

“Wait, Lia, calm down,” insisted Kaleb, placing a hand on her shoulder and applying enough pressure to keep her seated. “You need to relax. It’s alright. Everything’s alright.” He hesitated. “I mean, there’s a lot that’s happened, but nothing that prevents you from taking a day or two to recover. No one is sick anymore thanks to Carla, Jade’s had Tanos kept in the dungeons in secret, she’s marrying Rolfe any minute now, and she’s agreed to translate for us as soon as the wedding’s over. We can be out of here by tonight if you really want, but I think that we should wait until morning, at the very least. Your wrists need to heal, and you need to eat. And I’d prefer to help Henrik with interrogating Tanos.”

“Jade can’t marry Rolfe, Kaleb,” Lia explained. “He’s the one who poisoned everyone, after he poisoned himself first so that we wouldn’t suspect him. He’s the one working for Sincaeles. Jade, all of us… we all fell for it.”

Kaleb leaned away from her, looking taken aback at first, and then doubtful. “No… Rolfe’s—but the poison—”

“He chose a poison from Astaru so that anyone who bothered to do some digging would suspect Tanos, Kaleb. That’s why he covered up the cure but not the poison itself. Not because he didn’t want us to cure it, but because he wanted us to have to check the second book for a cure: the book that told us that the coconut shavings were from Astaru. The gift he gave Jade when he first arrived—a marble figurine of a horse and rider—was made by the woman I followed. She had more of them with her.” She spoke slowly to let him absorb it all, and Kaleb swallowed hard as he took it in, looking like he might faint.

“We need to stop this wedding,” he said at last. “Now.”

The entire staff of the castle—save for Kaleb and several guards and healers, it seemed—had crowded into the ballroom for Jade’s wedding. Kaleb managed to get Lia onto the upper floor and then let her onto a small balcony near the top, allowing her a bird’s eye view of the ballroom. She didn’t want to enter on the ground floor without getting a good look at the room first, and she also feared that her return would draw too much attention. If Rolfe had been informed that she’d been captured and then supposedly killed, he wouldn’t anticipate her arrival, and she wanted to be able to catch him off-guard.

Kaleb stood on the balcony with her, and together they watched as nobles and servants alike drank wine and chatted together. Several rows of chairs had been placed facing the far side of the room, and in front of them, an area had been cleared for Jade and Rolfe to stand during the ceremony.

“They think that I did it, you know,” Kaleb murmured next to her, scowling down at the crowd below them. “They think I’m a murderer.”

“What are you talking about?” Lia asked him, stunned. “Not the king and queen?”

“Of course. I claimed I’d spotted a mysterious woman in the halls from the library and chased her down even as she killed five people, then fought her and lost. You were a witness, but you’d disappeared, and no one else saw the real killer. I had a bloody dagger, and the bruises on my neck were supposedly from my victims fighting back. Carla’s word held little weight, as you can imagine, even if she did find a way to treat the nobles. But Jade trusted me and told everyone to leave me be. Henrik has vouched for me, too, and Sivan. But the rest of them…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “They can’t even look at me. I’ve spent the past few days alone, trying to draft a letter to Grerick to tell him you were gone. I couldn’t figure out just how to say it.” He let out a heavy breath, and Lia reached for his hand but found it hurt too much to squeeze it.

“I’m here now. And I need your help figuring out what we need to do to stop this. Do you think I can get to Jade before the ceremony starts?”

“No,” Kaleb said, grimacing, and then gestured down to the ballroom as light music began to play, courtesy of a string quartet not unlike the one Lia had witnessed at the banquet so many weeks ago.

The crowd moved quickly to settle into their seats, and Rolfe stepped up to the front of the room, a priest at his side and Sivan trailing in behind him with both wedding rings on a pillow in his hands. Rolfe gave a shy smile and a wave to the crowd, and then the doors opened at the other end of the room and Jade entered, several female servants flanking her on either side as she made her way toward Rolfe. Lia watched her move with unmistakable confidence so soon after losing both of her parents, and couldn’t help but wonder where she found the strength to keep going.

“It looks like we’re going to have to interrupt,” Kaleb muttered beside her. “Come—we need to move.”

“She’ll trust me, right?” Lia wondered, her eyes still following Jade as she made her way past the guests in the back rows. “She’s been through a lot in a short time. I don’t think I’d be in my right mind, were I her.”

“You haven’t see her these past few days,” Kaleb reassured her. “Whatever she felt, she didn’t let the rest of us see it. She took a day to recover and then kicked Hughes out while she was still sick. She had everyone believing Tanos had gone as well, and had Henrik escort him to the dungeons where we could interrogate him. No one even had the guts to argue with her when she pardoned me.”

“I suppose we have to try regardless,” Lia breathed out. She turned to Kaleb, and he ushered her out off of the balcony. It was as he helped her down the stairs that she realized how truly weak she still was, and when she gripped at his arm, he shot her a concerned look. “I still haven’t eaten,” she reminded him. “I don’t have much strength.”

“Then I’ll be your strength,” he told her, and promptly lifted her into the air and carried her the rest of the way.

At the entrance to the ballroom, he placed her back down on the ground, and they stood together for a moment, listening as the priest’s voice carried faintly through the door.

“What are you going to say?” Kaleb asked her.

“I think I’ll just stand there at first,” Lia decided, out of breath despite Kaleb’s help. “Largely because I have no idea where to start, but also because I need to catch my breath. After that? I guess we’ll see.”

“That’s good enough for me. Ready?”

She nodded, and he pressed his hand to the door, glanced back at her, and then shoved it with what seemed to be the entirety of his strength, for it flew open and slammed into the wall with a loud bang that had the priest stopping mid-sentence and the entire audience turning around in their seats. Kaleb entered the room first, and Lia slowly followed him inside, her hand on his arm to help keep her steady. She watched her feet as she walked, and then, when she’d finally made it several yards into the room, she stopped and looked up at Rolfe and Jade.

Rolfe was staring back at her with uncontrolled malice, but it was Jade that Lia looked to first. Her lips had parted with surprise and her eyes were wide with disbelief. She looked as though she’d seen a ghost.

So did the crowd, for that matter. There was a collective gasp at her appearance, and beside Rolfe, Sivan dropped the pillow in his hands, sending the rings to the floor with a clatter that felt deafening in the silent room.

“Jade,” Lia said, her voice echoing throughout the silent ballroom as she looked the other woman directly in the eyes. “Get away from him. Now.”

Jade didn’t argue. She twisted away from Rolfe immediately and he lunged forward to try to grab at her, missing her arm by inches and stumbling forward in the process. Sivan tackled him to the floor from behind, the off-duty guards in the crowd rushed forward, and the room erupted into chaos as the nobles and servants watching the ceremony screamed and fled toward the exits. Lia lost sight of Jade, Rolfe, and Sivan as the crowd surged around her, and one man barreled between her and Kaleb, forcing her to let go of him as pain shot up her arm. Several more guests filled the newly open space between them in an effort to get out, and Lia found herself lost and alone, struggling forward against the crowd to try to reach Jade.

And suddenly, she was face to face with Rolfe himself, who burst through the crowd and gripped the front of her shirt with a bloodied hand. For a moment, he hovered, his face inches from hers, a smirk on his lips as she stared resolutely back into his eyes. Gone was the goofy man she’d seen smiling and laughing during his time with Jade. This was the real Rolfe, and everything about him made her blood run cold.

Then he flung her sideways to the ground, where she had to roll to avoid being trampled by the fleeing guests. As soon as she could, she forced herself to her feet again, but Rolfe had already vanished with several guards in direct pursuit. More pressingly, Sivan was lying at the front of the room, his white tunic stained red. Jade and one of the guards were kneeling next to him as two other servants who’d been brave enough to stay in the room rushed to find one of the healers.

“Are you alright?” Kaleb asked, reappearing at her side, and she nodded shortly.

“I think Rolfe escaped with the crowd.”

“I know. I tried to follow, but I lost sight of him. I think he had a knife.”

Lia’s attention was directed to Sivan, and without saying anything more, Kaleb guided her to the front of the room and helped her kneel next to Jade. Sivan grinned up at her when he saw her, his nose and shoulder covered in blood.

“It looks worse than it is. I promise.”

“I think he’ll live,” the guard watching him supplied helpfully. “I’ve seen plenty of men survive worse.”

“I’m just glad you’re alive, Lia,” Sivan added. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have missed this,” said Lia, smiling down at him. Beside her, Jade didn’t say a word, but her hand slipped into Lia’s and her thumb brushed gently across Lia’s bandaged palm in a silent show of gratitude. It was enough that, for a short time, Lia let herself believe that everything might turn out alright.

12

“You may see some scarring from the burns, but I expect you’ll make a full recovery otherwise. They’re looking much better already.” The healer offered Lia a smile and released her left wrist, and she gave her a thankful nod. When she’d gone, Lia sat back in her bed and let out a quiet sigh.

In the days following Rolfe’s escape, the castle had gone quiet, and without a wedding to distract its inhabitants, a strange darkness seemed to have befallen the grounds, as guards and nobles alike mourned both the king and queen and the guards who’d died trying to protect them. Lia had hardly gotten a chance to speak to Jade at all, as Jade was busy adjusting to her new duties. Lia had wondered briefly if she’d considered marrying Tanos just so that she’d have some help, but that thought was quickly quashed when she saw how furious Tanos was after his false imprisonment and days of interrogation at the hands of Henrik and Kaleb. It had taken a large bribe to ensure his silence.

Henrik came to check on Lia not long after the healer left her, and took a seat on the bed beside her. “Are you eating well?” he asked her. She nodded. While she still hadn’t recovered completely from her time in the cavern, her strength was growing with each passing day. “Good. I thought we might take a walk, if you’d like.” He gestured, subtly, to the healers that bustled around the room, and she realized that he wanted to take her somewhere quieter.

She rose and left the room with him, and he led her out to the stables on the grounds, where she was surprised to see Kaleb waiting for them. She took a seat once they arrived, feeling tired again, and Kaleb watched her carefully to make sure she was settled before he turned his attention to Henrik.

“If you two are anything like me, you’ve had some unanswered questions following Rolfe’s escape,” began Henrik. “I myself wondered what exactly a man like him was doing here in the first place.”

It was true. After speaking with Tala, Lia had assumed the other members of the newer, more violent form of Sincaeles were similarly motivated by their own disenfranchisement. A nobleman had little reason to call for the restructuring of Eveinia’s leadership, and yet Rolfe had been a willing participant.

Henrik produced a letter from within the pocket of his waistcoat and explained, “During the courtship, I was suspicious of the suitors after the first poisoning, as I’m sure we all were. So I sent out letters to the royal families from each of their nations, asking if they thought their sons capable of such an act. I received this today: the response from Muthwole.”

He opened the letter and continued, “They seemed to be under the impression that the courtship had been canceled. In fact, they received an initial letter from us telling them so, and even responded to it asking for further details. We never received such a letter, and so they never heard back from us, and Rolfe never left his home in Muthwole. Which means that the Rolfe that we knew—”

“—wasn’t the real one,” finished Kaleb, awestruck. “Someone sent a forged letter so that the imposter could take the real Rolfe’s place.”

“Letters from nobility have seals specific to the royalty of each nation,” Henrik said. “And that particular forged letter would have been sent before Rolfe’s imposter ever even arrived.”

“Which means that someone in the castle must have sent it,” Kaleb realized. Lia sat quietly beside him, deep in thought. “And they’d have also had to keep the response from us, or else we’d have known that someone had sent the first letter. Only a guard could do that.” He looked to Henrik, suddenly on edge, and suggested, “Arin?”

“No,” Lia interrupted before Henrik could speak. Kaleb turned to her, confused. “It can’t be Arin.”

“Why not?” asked Kaleb.

“Because Henrik has that letter.” She gestured to the one in his hands. “That letter just told us that Rolfe was an imposter. If Arin intercepted the first letter, don’t you think he’d bother to intercept the second? The person who did this isn’t here anymore.”

“But no one’s missing from the castle,” said Henrik, though he was watching her with interest now, intrigued.

“But there was someone missing from the gates,” Lia realized. “I didn’t notice at the time, but Cassius wasn’t there. He was the man who led us to the castle on the day that we arrived. I know he delivered letters to the castle more than once, as well.” She looked to Kaleb and asked, “Do you remember what we talked to him about?”

“Vaguely,” Kaleb seemed unconvinced, however, even as he recalled, “He seemed friendly. We lied and said we’d traveled from Vorib, and he told us we’d like the castle…” he trailed off, then, and realization dawned on his face, “…because he’d worked there for a few months.”

“He also mentioned that nothing gets into the city without the guards at the gates knowing about it. So we were able to get letters out, but the responses were being intercepted at the gates,” explained Lia. “Cassius worked in the castle, so he was able to send out the first letter and ensure Rolfe never left Muthwole. He’s probably also the one who found the secret passageway that Tala used to get in and out on the night that Jade’s parents were murdered, given that he’d have had more time than Rolfe’s imposter to explore the castle. Then he transferred to the front gates.”

“That particular passageway was a bit of an open secret to the guard,” Henrik supplied. “He wouldn’t have needed to find it himself. But it was collapsed several decades ago. He must have worked to clear it out again, unbeknownst to the rest of us. With help, of course.”

“It all does make sense, but how can you be sure that it couldn’t have been anyone else who worked at the gates?” wondered Kaleb.

“Well, the men at the gates let me back into the city after I left Tala. If any of them had been working with Sincaeles, wouldn’t they have tried harder to stop me? I was weak and exhausted. It wouldn’t have been difficult to prevent me from returning and stopping Jade’s wedding if they’d really wanted to.”

“Now that I think about it, it’s been weeks since I’ve seen Cassius,” Henrik mused. “He must have left a while ago, when he was no longer needed.”

“Well,” said Kaleb, “all of this does tell us how Tala knew about the passageway and why a nobleman from Muthwole was seemingly working with Sincaeles, but that still doesn’t answer the biggest question of all: Rolfe’s real identity.”

“You don’t know?” asked Lia. Kaleb’s eyebrows furrowed, and he shook his head. “We assumed he was a puppet because we thought that we knew who he was. When I was with Tala, she had to disappear to go meet with her boss, Raus. She said he was in the area. And it seems as though Cassius had been gone for a while by then, but even if he wasn’t, think about it: if Raus could, wouldn’t he want to be the one to marry Jade, rather than trying to keep control over someone else who married her? He’s been right under our noses the whole time. He wasn’t a noble, so he replaced one.”

“But how could that last?” wondered Kaleb. “Certainly he couldn’t have used a fake identity to rule Eveinia alongside Jade. The real Rolfe and his family would have found out. In fact, they would have known he was an imposter from the moment news of Jade marrying Rolfe reached Muthwole.”

“Bribery, threats, blackmail,” Henrik proposed. “The real Rolfe never shows his face again, and Raus assumes his identity. Anyone else asking questions is quietly eliminated. It’s certainly possible with enough resources. Maybe Sincaeles’s reach has spread further than we realize.” He let out a breath and straightened up, looking prepared to leave them. “On that note, I have duties to attend to, and it’s imperative that Jade learns what we’ve discovered here. I’ll speak to her, but I would advise you to write a detailed letter of your own to Grerick. He’ll want to know what happened here and what you plan to do next, as I imagine you’ll be leaving soon. And you can be assured that it will reach him safely; the only hands to touch your letters will be those of the Keepers.”

“You know where to find him?” asked Lia.

“Not at all,” said Henrik with another faint smile, “but knowing him, I’m sure that someone else does.”

“How are you doing?”

Jade looked up from her desk and over to the door, where Lia stood, the single bag she’d brought from Lemn gripped in her left hand. Though both of her hands still bore bandages, she wore a new set of gloves curtesy of Bethilda, who, strangely, had actually looked mildly upset upon discovering that Lia was going to be leaving within the week.

Following Lia’s revelation about Rolfe’s true identity, an incomplete version of the truth had spread around the castle, and no doubt to Thesp and the rest of Sperath as well: that “Rolfe”, with the help of both Cassius and his nameless female accomplice, had replaced the original suitor from Muthwole in a calculated effort to seize the Sperathian throne by killing the king and queen and marrying Jade. Carla, Sivan, Kaleb, and most of all, Lia, were being heralded as servants turned heroes for sniffing out the plot and putting a stop to it. Only Lia, Kaleb, Henrik, and Jade knew the whole truth about Sincaeles’s role, Lia’s identity, and Raus’s plot to gain control of the Eveinian throne, and they were content to keep it that way for the time being.

“As well as I can be, I suppose,” Jade replied after a long moment. “Which is really not well at all.”

“I’m sorry,” said Lia, moving into the room and closing the door behind herself. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything else. I’m the one who should be apologizing,” Jade said. “I kept you here longer than you needed to be and you spent days at the mercy of that woman, and still managed to save my future and my nation.” Jade looked to Lia’s arms and grimaced. “Just look at your wrists and hands.”

“They don’t hurt nearly as much as they did before, thanks to your healers,” Lia insisted. “I’m the one who feels like I’ve failed you. The woman who killed your parents went free, and I let her.”

“None of us had any way of knowing what Sincaeles had planned,” said Jade, though it was with a deep frown. “I think you’re lucky to be alive. I’m not sure anything short of an entire army in front of my parents’ bedroom that night could’ve stopped that woman. Tala. It’s not your fault that she couldn’t be captured.” Jade’s lip curled angrily and her gaze settled on her own lap. “She’s the one I blame. Her and that disgusting man I nearly married. I’ve never wanted to kill anyone before, but I want to kill them.”

Still visibly furious, Jade gestured for Lia to take a seat on her bed. Lia, though hesitant, obeyed, placing her bag on the ground at her feet.

“I just don’t understand why they were killed,” said Jade. “It seems so unnecessary.”

“It was,” Lia agreed, “but I don’t think that Raus knew that. He didn’t realize that you’d already planned to marry him against your father’s wishes, or that your father wanted to push for his daughter to become the next emperor rather than himself. He thought he needed your parents out of the way.”

“So he took them from me before I ever even got the chance to know them,” Jade finished. Lia knew the surprise on her face had registered immediately when Jade nodded solemnly at her. “I’m not angry at them for it; I know that they had other responsibilities. But I always thought that when I took over the throne, I’d find a way to make time. They’d get a chance to relax, and I’d be whoever they wanted, and they’d be proud of everything I became…” Jade closed her mouth suddenly and swallowed hard, her eyes beginning to water, though she still looked angry rather than saddened. “And now I’ll never find out. That’s all been taken away from me.”

“Not all of it,” said Lia. Jade looked doubtful.

“Then what’s left?”

“You can still be someone they’d be proud of.”

Jade shrugged her shoulders. “Perhaps. I’m not sure I know exactly what kind of person they wanted me to be.”

“So then be someone you’re proud of,” Lia suggested instead.

Jade let out an audible breath, staring at her with sort of exhaustion to her gaze. “I’m not sure I know how to make myself proud, either.”

For a long moment they were both silent, and then Lia continued carefully, not wanting to upset her any further, “Do you have a date set for the funerals? I thought Kaleb and I might stay if it’s soon enough.”

“Two days from now,” Jade confirmed, and then seemed to hesitate before continuing, “And… I’d like that, if you don’t mind. My father quite liked you, even if it was because he thought I hated you. My mother thought you were pretty for a servant girl.” She turned away to collect herself, suddenly, and Lia looked away quickly, trying to give her what little semblance of privacy she could. She didn’t look up until Jade spoke again. “So do you have the book with you?”

“Oh. Yes.” Lia retrieved the Oracle from the bottom of her bag and crossed the short distance to hand it to Jade, then returned to the bed and waited patiently. “It’s on the last page, about halfway down. If you look long enough, you’ll see it.”

“This book is meant to be thousands of years old?” Jade wondered aloud, examining the cover and then the vaguely yellowed pages within. “It certainly doesn’t look it.”

“I’m just as impressed as you are,” Lia told her.

“The last page, you said?” Jade asked her. When Lia nodded, she continued, “There’s thousands of years’ worth of text here and we’re on the last page. What happens when there’s nothing left to read?”

Lia recalled what Grerick had told her so many weeks ago, back when she’d asked the very same question. “I guess we’ll find out,” she said, echoing his answer.

“Perhaps the last line also tells us where to find another book,” Jade suggested.

“It’s possible.” As she watched Jade flip to the final page, Lia changed the subject. “So are you going to have to start your courtship over again before you marry?”

Jade let out a small laugh, her eyes still on the page, and Lia smiled at the sound, pleasantly surprised that Jade could laugh at all. “I’m not sure I’ll get married anytime soon. My father wanted Tanos, but for obvious reasons I don’t think he’d like to marry me. Hughes would probably be equally as fitting, if I had to choose.” She sighed. “I’ve been wondering, lately, about that. It was always Tanos or Hughes for my father, but he started to favor Tanos quite strongly later on and I never found out why. Perhaps he saw something that I didn’t.”

“I might know why,” said Lia. Jade looked up, curious. “On the day he had me join you on your dates, he asked me how you found Tanos and Hughes afterward. I told him that you thought Hughes was boring.”

“He thought he was doing me a favor,” Jade realized.

“As controlling as he may have been, he probably cared about you much more than he let on,” said Lia. “At the very least, I’m sure that he wished for you to be happy.”

“I suppose he must have.” Jade was silent for a moment, thoughtful, and when the moment began to feel too heavy once again, Lia changed the subject.

“Have you thought about marrying Sivan? You may not be in love, but it’s clear that you two care for each other. That seems preferable to marrying any of the suitors you just spent the past few weeks with. Who cares that he’s not royalty?”

Jade shook her head, a small smile returning to her lips. “Lia, Sivan is royalty, technically. In fact, he’s my half-brother. And you’re going to Xosium next, by the way. This is an unbelievable book.”

“Your half-brother? Why didn’t you say? He must know, doesn’t he?” asked Lia, reeling.

“I didn’t say because it wasn’t relevant,” explained Jade. “Not many people know. My mother had him when she was young, before she ever met my father. It was hidden because he was born out of wedlock, and he was sent away for several years after his birth. Eventually, I suppose my mother decided that she couldn’t resist having him come to work in the castle so that she could see him every day, so he returned here as a servant.”

“Did you always know that he was your brother?” asked Lia.

Jade shook her head. “I found out the truth a few years ago. But my father never knew, and my mother threatened anyone who ever found out into keeping it quiet, at least until the day she died. Now I suppose it wouldn’t matter to her who knows.” She handed the book back to Lia, closed her eyes, and recited, “‘At the second will stand the Rogue of Xosium, found underground and in search of retribution.’ Does that sound right or am I speaking nonsense?”

“No, that’s perfect. Thank you.” Lia placed the book back into her bag, and they sat in silence for a moment. Jade took a breath and then frowned to herself, giving Lia a small shake of her head.

“After all of this, I feel so… empty, I suppose. There’s a hole in my chest I can’t figure out how to fill, and it’s not even because of my parents. That hole’s deeper. And different. It aches, and this one smarts. I suppose I’m wondering if I’m making the wrong decision.”

“How so?” wondered Lia.

“Staying here,” Jade clarified, much to Lia’s surprise. “I was always terrified, growing up, of living my entire life in this castle, interacting with the same people every day, engaging in the same silly political routines I watched my parents busy themselves with. I didn’t want to get married; didn’t want to rule; didn’t want responsibilities, but I never felt like I had a choice. It was just something that was expected of me, no matter how scared I was to take it all on. But now that I’m older and I do have a choice, I think I’m more terrified to leave than I am to stay. Does that make staying the wrong decision?”

“I don’t know,” Lia answered. “I’m not sure that there is a wrong decision.”

“What about my duty to Eveinia?” Jade wondered. “And all of those arguments you had on the night you told me you were the Seer. Those suddenly don’t matter?”

“I think I’ve learned that if you don’t want to rule, you aren’t the right choice,” said Lia. “I think that the person I choose is going to be someone determined to do it correctly. But I can’t promise you that if you come along, you won’t become that person.”

“Neither can I, given that I’m not sure who I am or what I want at all anymore,” Jade admitted. “Not unlike the person I accused you of being, is it?”

“Perhaps we’re not so different after all,” suggested Lia, smiling.

Jade let out another small laugh and smiled back, albeit a little shyly. They sat quietly, watching each other, and Lia felt the same tension from the first night she’d been called to Jade’s quarters returning to the room. It settled between them and lingered, though it was not quite so uncomfortable this time, nor as heavy, even despite what had transpired between them in the past few weeks.

Jade at last broke the silence to admit, still smiling, “Honestly, I want to be able to give this big speech about duty and my people and the greater good of Eveinia, and to sit here and pretend that those things are what matter to me right now…” her smile faded, then, as she continued, “but I just don’t want to be here anymore. Not after what’s happened. This castle has always been a prison, and now it just reminds me daily that my mother and father were here and alive and now they’re just… not.” She shook her head, resolute. “I want to leave and have some semblance of my own life—even for just a few months—before I come back and it’s all taken away forever. Perhaps I’ve been looking at this the wrong way, and you being here is some sort of divine sign that I should get what I’ve always wanted. Perhaps the proper place for me is with you, at least for the time being. After all, I never asked to be noble.”

Jade sighed when she’d finished speaking, out of breath, and then purposefully avoided Lia’s eyes. Watching her, Lia was suddenly aware of exactly how young they both were. She felt mature beyond her years, and sensed that Jade had felt the same way for much, much longer.

“I think we can make that happen,” she said, finally.

“Even if it would only be temporary, there’s still no one to rule in my absence,” said Jade. “Not with my parents gone. I have no aunts or uncles, and only someone of royal blood would be approp—” She paused, suddenly, and Lia nodded knowingly at her, already one step ahead. “Oh,” Jade murmured. “That would be… a mess.”

“One he’d be glad to make for you,” said Lia.

“That’s brilliant. Still a mess, but a brilliant mess.” Jade got to her feet and paced for a moment, in disbelief. Then she turned to Lia and nodded. “Alright. Then I’ll come with you, if you’d have me. To Xosium.”

“Of course,” Lia agreed quickly. “But there is one condition. Kaleb will want to take you to live with a friend of ours so that you’ll be safe, so before we leave, you’ll have to prove that you can handle the danger of traveling with us instead. He needs to see that you can defend yourself.”

“Then I’ll go get my bow ready,” Jade said, but instead of moving to leave the room, she walked to Lia instead and gently pulled her into a hug. Lia, surprised, hugged her back as best as she could with her injuries. “Thank you for everything. Everything that you’ve done and everything that I know you’ll do.”

“I’m sure you’ll save me a couple of times, too,” replied Lia.

Jade pulled away briefly to smile at her, hands falling to rest on her forearms, though she was careful to avoid Lia’s wrists. “I hope so. I have some catching up to do.”

The day before she left Sperath with Kaleb and Jade, Lia attended the joint funerals arranged for Jade’s parents. The ceremony was long and arduous, and Jade seemed to bear the brunt of most of it, as she was their last known surviving relative pending Sivan’s reveal of his true heritage. Henrik gave a few speeches, as well, when it became clear that Jade was struggling to handle it all herself. Still, it served as a catharsis for everyone in the castle, Jade included, and when it was finally over, Kaleb and Lia found Jade and Sivan standing alone together in the room that housed the portrait of their mother.

“Do you think it’ll stay here for much longer?” Jade asked him. “It’s a beautiful painting.”

“She was beautiful, and of course it’ll stay. I’ll make sure that it does,” Sivan promised, and Jade gave a forced laugh.

“The court will have a field day with this. The servant boy revealing himself to be my bastard half-brother and then taking over the throne while I’m gone? If I wasn’t so eager to leave, I’d wish I could be here to see the reactions myself.”

“I’ve grown up in the castle. I’ll do just fine. It’s only for a little while.”

“I know you will,” agreed Jade, wrapping an arm around Sivan and squeezing him to her. When he winced and rubbed at his injured shoulder, she murmured a quick apology to him and kissed him on the temple. “Sir Henrik has agreed to vouch for you, hasn’t he? His reputation should be enough to coax the few people who have known the truth for years to come forward.”

“Yes, but I’m not entirely sure he believes me. He’s just eager to see you leave with these two.” He gestured to Lia and Kaleb, and Jade seemed to notice their presence for the first time. “When are you all going to tell me what’s going on? If I’m ruling a whole nation in your absence, I feel as though I at least deserve to know why. And Henrik agrees with me, but he insists that it’s up to you three to tell me the truth.”

“You’ll have to trust me for now,” said Jade. “You just need to know that when the rest of the castle realizes I’ve gone, you’re meant to blame it on grief. Say that I said I needed a break. It won’t be lying… only withholding the rest of the truth. Perhaps when all of this is over and it won’t endanger you to know, you’ll hear the rest.”

Sivan, though visibly disappointed, seemed to understand. “Very well, but I’m holding you to that.” He looked back to the painting with a sigh. “I can’t believe that you’re going to Xosium. My princess sister in Xosium. I’m going to be worried sick. I hope you last more than one day.”

“I’ve heard she’s a good shot with a bow,” Kaleb reminded him, reaching out to pat Sivan on his uninjured shoulder. “She’ll be fine.”

The following day, Carla helped Lia pack what little she’d brought with her. She looked more downtrodden than Lia had ever seen her before, likely due a combination of both the recent events and of Lia’s impending departure.

“Are you sure that you can’t stay?” Carla asked her. “You’re a hero now. Everyone in Sperath will know your name by the end of the month, and it’s only a matter of time before what you’ve done spreads to the rest of Eveinia. Jade has tripled my wages just for briefly helping you. Whatever you were paid to come here and protect her, I’m sure you’d be paid even more to stay.”

Lia shot her a soft smile as she stuffed the last of her tunics into her bag and placed it onto her bed. “So then I can’t expect you’ll be staying much longer, either, once you’ve saved enough money?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” said Carla. “Being a servant is all I know. And besides, I like it here.” She heaved a dramatic sigh and sat on the edge of the bed, and Lia joined her. “What am I going to do around here without you? I won’t have anyone to talk to anymore.”

“Talk to Sivan,” Lia suggested.

“I’ve spent nearly fifteen years talking to Sivan. I know it seems like a silly thing to complain about given what’s happened, but I really did forget what it was like to have a friend.”

“I’ll try to come back someday,” Lia vowed. “And when I do, I’ll explain everything.”

“Everything?” Carla pressed. “Every little detail?”

“Yes,” agreed Lia, meaning it. “I’ll answer every question. I promise.”

“Good.” Carla leaned into her and wrapped her up in a tight hug. “Don’t get into too much trouble.”

“No promises,” said Lia when they’d pulled away. “Try not to spread too many silly rumors.”

“No promises,” Carla echoed, smiling. “Are you leaving soon or do you have time for one last meal with me?”

“I’m leaving within the hour,” Lia admitted.

“So come eat. I know you haven’t been, and you could use a big meal after what you’ve been through.”

Lia shook her head sadly. “Thank you for looking out for me, but I can’t.” Carla let out a sad exhale, but reached down to pick up Lia’s bag and hand it over to her all the same. “There’s still something that I haven’t taken care of yet.”

Kaleb found Lia alone in the library just minutes before they were due to depart. He was out of breath and red-faced when he entered the room, and looked frustrated with her as he took a seat beside her at a table near the entrance. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! We’re leaving in minutes and you were nowhere to be found. We can’t linger for too long or someone might see Jade leaving.” He noticed the book that rested on the table in front of her and asked, “What’s that?”

“Eveinian Flora,” she told him with a wry smile. “The book that led us to the wrong man.”

“And what makes it so significant now that you’ve come in here to look at it?” he asked.

“I’ve been dreaming about this book while we’ve been here,” Lia explained. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think that I was getting distracted, but I think I’ve lived in this castle before.”

Kaleb reached out for the book, curious. “One book can tell you that?”

“I dreamt that I was walking through the hallways like they were familiar. I went to a door with a silver handle and that led me to the library, where I found this book on the shelf in the back corner. I opened it to page eighty-seven and there was a sentence underlined on the bottom of the page about a water lily. The door handle is bronze now, but it occurred to me that perhaps the handle rusted over and was replaced between my memory and now. Everything else inside the room was the same, including the shelf that the book was on.”

“So you think that if you open this book and find the underlined sentence, it’s undeniable proof that you’re right,” Kaleb realized. “I suppose that makes a lot of sense.”

“Should I open it?” asked Lia.

Kaleb studied the front cover for a moment before he handed the book back to her. “Should you?”

“I don’t know,” Lia admitted. “When I was in the cave with Tala, I told her that our pasts can’t be changed no matter who we become. Do you think that who I used to be says something about who I am now even if I can’t remember any of it?”

“I think it’ll only affect who you are if you let it,” said Kaleb. “Did you believe what you told Tala, or would you have said whatever you thought would convince her to let you go?”

“I meant it.” Lia slid the book back toward Kaleb. “I meant most of the things I said to her. She wasn’t crazy. Or maybe she was, but… she wasn’t completely unhinged like you think. She said some things that I think I agree with.” Lia grimaced, disgusted with herself. “I think that scares me more than if she had just been crazy.”

“She killed Jade’s parents. Sivan’s mother. Those are our friends.” Kaleb looked perturbed. “She’s the reason you’re here right now. If she hadn’t killed Levian—”

“I know. I’m not defending her. What she did was unforgivable. I hate her for it. But I think that she did it because she wanted the same things that we do: someone in power who can fix Eveinia. We’re both willing to harm people who get in our way because we believe in the world that we want to create.”

She shook her head, too disturbed to follow this train of thought any longer. Kaleb, too, seemed uncomfortable. “You would never kill an innocent person,” he pointed out. “She would. She has. That’s what makes us different from her. Our beliefs don’t dictate who we are, Lia; our choices and our actions do.”

“But there was a moment, on the night that I told Jade who I really was,” Lia began slowly. “I snuck up to her room and Arin caught me. And for a moment, I thought to myself that maybe his sacrifice was necessary. Maybe if he died, more people would be better off in the long run. And I can’t even say with certainty that I wouldn’t have killed him in the end. Jade showed up and I never had to make the decision.” She shook her head and Kaleb stared at her, his expression giving nothing away. “Maybe there’s something innate in me that makes me think that way. Even if I’m not exactly like Tala now, who’s to say that I wasn’t before? I saw her on the night that she killed Levian. I was there in the castle when he died. What if I helped her?”

“You know what? There’s a small chance that you did,” said Kaleb. “But I know you now, and I know you wouldn’t have any part of it.” For a moment, he fell silent, furrowing his brow as he stared down at the back of her gloved right hand, which she’d rested on top of the table. At last, he sighed. “Only the emperor, the Seers themselves, and the Keepers know the truth about how the Seers are chosen. Grerick didn’t want you to know because he feared that it would distract and upset you, but perhaps it’s best that I tell you now. You are the Seer because you were the last person to see Levian alive. Just as Grerick was the last person to see Drigas alive.” Lia stared at him, stunned, and he looked pained as he continued, “So it’s possible—”

“Don’t,” Lia interrupted quickly, raising a hand. “You don’t have to say anything else. I know perfectly well what’s possible. Why would you wait to tell me this?”

“You said that Tala admitted to killing him,” Kaleb reminded her. “You probably found him just before he died, Lia. You were almost certainly just as much a victim as he was.”

“And what if I wasn’t? What if Tala only thinks that she killed him because the real culprit doesn’t exist in her memories anymore?”

“That’s not what happened,” Kaleb insisted. “You had no idea how to fight when I met you, Lia.”

“Well, that doesn’t prove that I didn’t help her,” muttered Lia. “What if all of this has happened to me as some sort of punishment? If Tala was the murderer, then it should have been her. The world would have forgotten a killer, and she’d have been the one with this responsibility. She’d have been the one who had to start over.”

“But it wasn’t Tala. It was always meant to be you. And you’ve taken on that huge responsibility—put your life on the line for people you don’t even know—just because it was the right thing to do. That says more about who you are than a broken memory or a line in a book or a decision you considered but didn’t follow through with. I know that you’re curious about who you used to be, and that’s fine. But you should keep in mind that whoever she was, she isn’t the girl sitting in front of me right now. She can’t be. Our experiences shape too much of who we are.”

Lia studied the text in front of her, feeling sick to her stomach. Though a part of her could see the truth in Kaleb’s words, she suddenly wanted nothing more than to put off learning about who she’d used to be. “I don’t think I’ll open it,” she said at last. “But maybe you should.”

Kaleb raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yes. And then if I ever want to know, you can tell me if I was right.” She nudged the book closer to him with discomfort, feeling the strange sensation from her first night in Grerick’s home returning to her. Again, she felt as though her own body didn’t belong to her. “Page eighty-seven. The line is about a flower called the Victoria.”

Kaleb shook his head uncertainly, but opened the book nonetheless. Lia looked away from him to avoid seeing his reaction, suddenly sickened by the sight of her own hands, and listened to him flip through the pages until he finally came to a stop. He was silent for a moment, and then she heard the book shut.

When she looked back at him, he’d folded his arms in front of himself and was resting them on the table, watching her expectantly. “Ready to go?” he asked. “I know you were struggling with your letter to Grerick today. If you need a few minutes to finish it, I suppose we can spare them.”

“I think I’d like that,” Lia confirmed. “It won’t take long.”

Grerick,

I was told that this letter would be in safe hands on its way to you and so I would be permitted to speak freely. During our time in Thesp, Kaleb and I discovered that Raus himself had taken on the identity of a prince named Rolfe to marry Jade in hopes of ruling Eveinia alongside her. We believe a man named Cassius posed as a guard to assist him with his impersonation. He was also helped by the woman I witnessed in my dream during my first night with you. Her name is Tala and she claims responsibility for the deaths of both Levian and his son Cedric. She killed both of Jade’s parents on Raus’s instruction. I couldn’t stop her. Raus, Tala, and Cassius escaped, but Jade was able to translate the Oracle’s next line, and we plan to travel to Xosium soon. She has requested to travel with us rather than to stay with you, but considers her decision temporary. I don’t know how long she’ll stay with us, or if she’ll want to be emperor when the time comes for a decision to be made.

Today, Kaleb told me why I was chosen to be the Seer. A large part of me wishes he hadn’t, and a larger part of me wishes you were here to tell me more. I imagine no one else could understand exactly what it’s like to feel so out of place in my own skin, and I have so many questions. Kaleb thinks our experiences shape a great deal of who we are, so what will happen to me when I start to recall my old experiences? You said that some of your own memories slowly began to return to you. Did they change you? The longer I think about it, the more I’m convinced that discovering who I used to be will be far more terrifying than anything else I face in the months to come. What happens if I don’t like what I find? Did you like what you found?

-Lia

Sir Henrik saw them off. He’d insisted upon Jade wearing a large cloak to conceal her head and face, certain she’d be recognized while they were still in Sperath, and Lia found it hard to look at her without feeling the burning in her hands and wrists and recalling the dagger that had stopped just an inch from her chest. She felt her pulse quicken and hastily looked away, wondering silently if the feeling would come every time she saw a woman in a hooded robe.

Jade’s horse, Opal, had been brought out from the stable for her to ride, and it seemed to be familiar with Kaleb, who stroked its head as they said their goodbyes to Henrik and Sivan, the latter of whom clutched at Jade until Kaleb was forced to awkwardly pull them apart.

“Keep her safe,” Sivan said to Kaleb and Lia, and Lia heard Jade give a small laugh as they both slid onto their horses.

“I think that was her way of saying that she can keep herself safe,” replied Lia.

“Help her, then,” Sivan revised, winking at Lia. She managed a small smile and a nod in return.

As Henrik stepped away from them, he advised, quietly, “Continue to lay as low as you can manage. The biggest advantage you have is that—provided Tala keeps her promise—no one knows what you’re up to, who you are, or where you’re going next. But if you’re found out, you can expect trouble.”

“Something tells me we’ll find it regardless,” admitted Kaleb. He glanced first to Jade, and then to Lia, ensuring that they were both settled on their horses and ready to go. Then he steered Shadow toward the cobblestone streets and set him at a trot. Jade, with a long look back at Sivan and the castle, soon followed, and Lia stared after the two of them and took in a deep breath, then patted Peony on the head.

“I hope you’re ready, girl,” she murmured, “because I’m not quite sure I’ll ever truly be.”

And then she steered Peony forward and fell into line behind Kaleb and Jade, wondering what more could possibly lie ahead.

About the Author

Siera Maley was born and raised in the Southern Bible Belt. After coming out as a lesbian as a teen, she relocated to a more suburban area and is now living with her fiancée and very adorable dogs. The Noble of Sperath is the first novel in an upcoming young-adult fantasy series. Previous works include Time It Right, Dating Sarah Cooper, Taking Flight, On the Outside, and Colorblind.

Visit her online at

@sieramaley

Sieramaley

www.sieramaley.com

sieramaley@gmail.com