《While Waiting to Wake》


 Ep. 1 - Silver Haired Boy and Sister’s Touch

    The Lost Prince.


    Both girls agreed it was the worst book they''d ever read.


    Em tried to swallow her laughs because they hurt. But she couldn¡¯t completely suppress her giggles as her sister continued ranting and raving.


    ¡°First of all, the person the stupid novel was named after never showed up! We don¡¯t even see what happened to him!¡±


    ¡°Uh, huh.¡±


    Maddie pressed the petal down harder, defying the rain splashing against her windshield.


    ¡°Second, why the freak didn¡¯t it warn us that the story was about some insecure jerk as he spirals down into hell?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s the other characters who were in hell,¡± Em pointed out. ¡°Technically, he got what he wanted in the end.¡±


    Maddie groaned.


    ¡°Still the worst protagonist ever. I mean, you know it¡¯s bad when you¡¯re hoping someone would show up and wash the guy down the drain. We should¡¯ve screwed our thumbs off instead of reading it.¡±


    Em couldn¡¯t help it.


    She started laughing so hard that it ended in wheezes and coughs. She adjusted her too thin body against the car door and her pillow to get comfortable. Pretending not to see Maddie¡¯s concerned glances.


    ¡°What else?¡± she huffed.


    ¡°What do you mean what else?! I guess it could¡¯ve been good. If some of the better characters at least did well in the end. Why did we read it again?!¡± her sister fumed.


    ¡°Because two of the characters were¡­ were our namesakes?¡±


    Maddie groaned. ¡°At least your namesake lived,¡± she grumbled.


    ¡°That¡¯s true. She b-became a minor villainess because of neglect and abuse. But she did live. And her position was s-secure from the moment her talent came to light.¡±


    Em had to pause and catch her breath. It was a long speech for her.


    Maddie snorted at the word ¡®secure¡¯ and shook her head. Then she glanced over at Em and reached for her hand.


    ¡°We¡¯re almost there. You should go to sleep.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to. I don¡¯t want to miss¡­ anything¡­¡±


    She was also afraid she¡¯d have nightmares that involved needles, waking up during surgery, and MRI tubes. Though it didn¡¯t matter, since she was driving toward that nightmare.


    She closed her eyes tightly against a sudden rush of tears.


    ¡°It¡¯s going to be exhausting.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. If-if the Prince had shown up, what do you think¡­ he was¡­¡±


    Despite her insistence, it only took a few seconds with her eyes closed for Em to doze.


    In her dreams, she saw a young boy.


    Silver hair. Ruby red eyes. Maybe about six.


    He stood in what looked like an alley. If Em turned to her right, and she did, she could see a street past the entrance. Where people were walking back and forth and no one was paying attention to the scene in the alley.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    The boy stood still, looking at the person who was there with him with his head tilted to the side.


    A woman was kneeling in front of him, holding him by the shoulders. Her clothes were strange. Both their clothes were strange, but she looked like some sort of mix between an Egyptian Princess and a priest.


    She was also a very, very old woman, making her clothes hang on her badly.


    Like dressing up a skeleton.


    Maybe she wasn¡¯t either a princess or a priest. Maybe she was just a bag lady in a costume.


    Abruptly, she opened her eyes and let go of his shoulders.


    ¡°It is done, my prince. May the blessings of Felice be on you.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s done?¡± asked the confused little boy.


    The woman smiled sadly and touched his cheek.


    ¡°Hope.¡±


    The woman got up and ran away. Amazingly sprightly for a skeletal old woman. Em reacted with a laugh.


    For an instant, the boy stood there. Fiddling with a top toy and string as he watched the woman go.


    ¡°Hope?¡±


    ¡°Emmaline!¡±


    Em woke with a start as the car suddenly jerked. For an instant, she didn¡¯t know what was going on. Caught between reality and her dream.


    Then she saw the headlights.


    Maddie had attempted driving off the road and out of the way of the headlights, turning a sharp right.


    It didn¡¯t matter.


    The semi hit their now turned back end.


    For an instant, Em blacked out.


    When she came to, it was because she felt the rain. It hit her face and neck¡­ she hated it. She tried to move, tried to get out of the rain, and pain shot through from everywhere.


    She whimpered.


    ¡°Maddie?¡± she whispered.


    Forcing open her eyes, she saw her sister.


    Still in the next seat, though now the car was upside down.


    Unconscious or¡­ Unconscious. Definitely unconscious.


    Had to be unconscious¡­ Please be unconscious.


    Surrounded by glass.


    Em was used to pain, so it didn¡¯t stop her when she wanted to move. Her whole arm shook and agony burned her, but she reached for her sister¡¯s hand. She couldn¡¯t force her fingers to move but she still put her hand over her sister¡¯s.


    She closed her eyes.


    ***


    It was the same boy, but he was¡­ older. She didn¡¯t know how much older. Maybe around eleven? Or twelve?


    Not that she was amazing at guessing child ages. Especially boys, who tended to mature slower than girls. Right?


    And she¡¯d never had a male friend before, so that didn¡¯t help.


    It was nighttime, and he was following a bear-like man as they raced through long, empty corridors. No, now that she was looking closer, the boy wasn¡¯t following.


    He was being dragged.


    The corridor abruptly ended in a big, open area. Where potted trees and shrubs were scattered around tastefully and several tables dotted the room.


    The walls were made of glass.


    From here, Em could see flames outside the glass. And she could hear distant yells and screams.


    ¡°This is mother¡¯s conservatory. Why-?¡±


    The bear-man abruptly let go of the little boy and turned to him, grabbing him by the back of the neck.


    The child screamed.


    Em could feel his pain like a fire. Running down from the back of her neck to her tailbone.


    She cried out with him and would have collapsed if she¡¯d had legs.


    ¡°What did you do?!¡±


    The child staggered away from the bear-man, holding his neck and tears running down his face.


    Em expected the man to attack the child. Instead, he knelt on one knee. Tears falling into his beard.


    ¡°They¡¯ll be coming for you, my prince. This is the only way I can hide you. If they catch you, you are a squire, not a prince. Do you understand?¡±


    ¡°No! No, I don¡¯t understand! I have to go back. I have to find my brothers!¡±


    The bear-man grabbed his arm before he could dash back the way they¡¯d come.


    ¡°They¡¯re dead.¡±


    Em could feel the child¡¯s insides growing cold. Numb and in instant denial. In this dream the child must be a projection of herself. How else could she feel so closely tied to him?


    Dead brothers.


    Dead Maddie?


    Her whole body froze with his in protest.


    ¡°No! No, you¡¯re lying! You¡¯re lying!¡±


    He tried to yank his arm away. Desperate to go back. Bear-man did not let him go as the child twisted and cried. More tears leaked down the man¡¯s face and soaked his beard.


    ¡°I¡¯m not lying. You know I¡¯ve never lied to you.¡±


    The man pulled the child into his arms. And while the child sobbed, the man kept himself alert. Watching for danger.


    Suddenly, the bear-man pushed the child up to the wall and cast a shield over him.


    ¡°Remember. If they find you, you were a squire. Now, stay quiet.¡±


    The child was given no time to react as the bear-man walked away from the shield-trap and stood ready in the middle of the room. Tensely watching.


    As though he sensed something.


    As Em looked around, she briefly saw someone step through the door leading outside¡­ but then other people came rushing in from the corridor and she forgot about the lone watcher.


    Soldiers.


    Imperial soldiers seemed to pour into the room. Though in reality there was probably only five or six of them.


    Correction, seven of them.


    It was like watching an action movie. The bear-man defended the room, cutting down three of the other soldiers with ease while they knocked tables and plants about. But the other four gave him a good fight.


    Strange, shadowy orbs floated above each body. Em instinctively inched away from them and stayed near the child.


    Meanwhile, the boy slammed his fists into the shield.


    Desperately trying to get out and help.


    Finally, after killing one more attacker, they caught the bear-man. As the man collapsed in death, the shield around the boy instantly disappeared. The boy stumbled forward onto his knees, catching the soldiers¡¯ attention.


    Immediately, one of the three attackers pointed a sword at the child¡¯s tear-streaked face.


    ¡°What do we have here? Looks like one of those royal brats we were sent here to kill.¡±


    The child desperately scooted backward. But he only went about two feet before his back hit the nearest wall.

 Ep. 2 - Smoke and Slave Trade

    Em put herself between the boy and the sword.


    After all, in real life she was dying, anyway. She had nothing to lose. But her body was about as effective as a hologram. The sword came closer, going right through her.


    ¡°I¡¯m n-n-not-¡±


    He was trembling so hard that he couldn¡¯t get a full sentence out. One soldier, a woman, grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back. He cried out in pain.


    ¡°Let him go!¡± Em shouted at her.


    It was madness! She knew it was a dream, but she still tried to pull the woman¡¯s arm. Helplessness coursing through her like poison when she realized she couldn¡¯t affect this dream at all.


    ¡°If he is, we¡¯ll get a suitable reward for bringing his head.¡±


    ¡°Not as much as you¡¯d get if you sold him.¡±


    Everyone turned toward the newcomer.


    ¡°Sorceress,¡± one man greeted warily.


    It was the person who¡¯d crept into the room from the outside instead of the corridor, Em realized. Though she didn¡¯t know how she recognized the shadow when the woman hadn¡¯t joined the fight earlier.


    The newcomer waved a hand, and light lit the surrounding area.


    She was tall, her brown hair streaked with bright red. As she walked confidently toward the three, she lit a cigarette. Then stood over the shaking, terrified boy.


    Taking a deep drag.


    ¡°See his hair, eyes, features? He¡¯d make a beautiful slave. I know noblewomen who¡¯d pay a good billion zen for him. That¡¯s four times what the Emperor would pay for his head. Imagine. Split the Emperor¡¯s reward four ways, and you¡¯re left with barely enough for a two-month vacation on Mauna Lani.¡±


    ¡°It would be treason if we sold him instead of bringing his head.¡±


    She took a drag and flicked the ash off the end of the cigarette.


    ¡°Not if he¡¯s just a lookalike or from a collateral family. Would be a waste if we killed him only to find out that we could have had so much more.¡±


    The other three paused. Considering.


    The child whimpered, and the newcomer flickered her eyes at him. There was¡­ something in her eyes. A warning.


    It took Em a second to recognize it.


    It was the same look, the exact same look, Maddie would give her when Maddie was trying to bluff her way out of a traffic ticket. Or when she was trying to get Em out of school early for a fake doctor¡¯s appointment¡­ before the appointments became real, of course.


    ¡°There¡¯s an easy way to find out,¡± the woman whispered.


    Since they were taking too long to think.


    Understanding dawned on all their faces and eagerly one of the two men pulled out a square black box. He twisted the top, and it slid open, revealing a silver orb inside.


    The woman holding the child¡¯s hair shoved him back. He slammed the wall hard, hitting his head. But he wasn¡¯t given a chance to recover before the orb was shoved into his hand.


    For a tense second, no one moved.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t light up,¡± said newcomer cheerfully. ¡°This boy has no mana flowing out of him at all. And we all know that the royal family here was well known for their mana. What was your job here, child?¡±


    ¡°I- Squi-squi-¡±


    ¡°Hear that? He was a squire. I¡¯d bet he¡¯s from a collateral family. Related to but not a royal. Are you satisfied?¡±


    Greed had lit up every face and one man grabbed the child by the wrist, yanking him to his feet.


    ¡°Quite satisfied.¡±


    ¡°By why should you get any of the profit?¡± complained the other woman. ¡°You didn¡¯t help us beat that bastard.¡±


    She indicated the bear-man¡¯s corpse.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°No, but I kept you from killing the boy.¡± The Sorceress lifted her hand and fire flickered from her fingers. ¡°Or do you want me to just kill him now and leave you with the Emperor¡¯s pitiful reward?¡±


    The soldiers swore, but no one objected again as they pulled the boy from the room.


    ***


    Time was different in dreams.


    Em looked out the window. Not bothering to get out of bed as she watched the pink and white curtains flutter in every breeze.


    Yes. That was what was going on.


    In dreams, two seconds of real time could be hours in dream time.


    Any second, she expected everything to either go completely black¡­ or to wake up in the hospital.


    She¡¯d be ok with dying this way.


    A car accident was a much faster way to go than the hell she¡¯d been forced through for the last three years. So, yes, she¡¯d be ok with dying this way. She nodded to herself.


    However¡­ if she could wake up just long enough to know Maddie was alive and ok¡­


    If she prayed hard enough, would the gods in her dream wake her up? She snorted a small laugh at the idea.


    ¡°Hello, miss Emmaline.¡± She turned her head and silently watched the quiet maid come into the room. Carrying a tray. ¡°Staying in bed again today, miss?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    The maid¡¯s smile was pained as she put her tray on the night table.


    Her name was¡­ Tracy, Em thought as she listlessly watched.


    Dreams had another strange thing going for them. Often you just know things about the world within the dream. Even if it didn¡¯t make sense.


    For example, Em knew her name here was Emmaline Grimshaw. She had a short lifetime of memories of being this person, though she knew she was really Emmaline Taylor and was probably dying in a hospital bed.


    And she also knew the city immediately outside her window was the Capital of the Empire.


    Elyana.


    It was a pretty name with a pretty story. The first Emperor loved his wife dearly and named the Capital after her. They say he wanted to name the entire Empire after her, but she put her foot down on that and insisted it be called after him.


    It was that name that made Em realize what she was dreaming about.


    Of course she¡¯d dream about it.


    She and Maddie had been talking about it right before the accident. She¡¯d even dreamed about a little boy her mind decided was the ¡®prince¡¯ who¡¯d been lost. It was crazy!


    She needed to wake up. She needed to check on Maddie.


    If she jumped out the window, would it wake her up? Or would she die? Some people say if you die in a dream, you die in real life. She couldn¡¯t risk that until she knew Maddie was ok.


    She picked up a bowl from the tray and stared at it. Worrying about Maddie.


    Tracy sat on the edge of the bed. ¡°Miss.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°I know the last year has been hard.¡± Tracy reached out and pushed a lock of hair behind Em¡¯s ear. ¡°But I¡¯m sure they wouldn¡¯t want you to stay cooped up inside like this.¡±


    They?


    Oh. Yeah.


    An unexpected pang ran through Em¡¯s heart, and she closed her eyes.


    As Em, her mother had been a drug addict and didn¡¯t know who her father was. Maddie took her in as soon as Maddie was old enough to claim custody.


    But here, as Emmaline, she had vivid memories of loving, responsible parents.


    Very vivid.


    It made her sick how much grief hit her over people who weren¡¯t even real! She rubbed her eyes. Tracy put aside the bowl and pulled Em into a hug.


    Where she cried.


    Cried for the parents she never knew but remembered. Cried for the parents that had abandoned her. And cried for Maddie¡­


    Cried for her own impending death, which had been a long time coming.


    ¡°Shh, shh,¡± Tracy murmured. Rocking Em against her chest.


    It took about an hour, but Tracy convinced her to get out of bed and go for a walk.


    Wearing a thin black dress, she held Tracy¡¯s hand as they stepped outside and into the garden. Where she lifted her chin and took a deep breath through her nose.


    Even though the manor had slowly been losing its staff, and would continue to do so for the foreseeable future, the gardens were still beautifully kept. Em¡¯s nose filled with the scents of flowers she couldn¡¯t name.


    And though she felt tired from not getting out of bed for three days, her movements had none of the sluggishness of her real world illness.


    The fatigue was gone. The soreness was gone. The need to cough every three seconds, gone.


    Abruptly, she let go of Tracy¡¯s hand and began running down the path. Testing muscles she thought she¡¯d never be able to use like this again.


    With a laugh of joy, she threw back her arms and spun in a circle.


    Oh! If only Maddie were here! Then this would be perfect.


    ¡°What is this? Is my darling Sunshine feeling better today?¡±


    She stopped spinning. Facing the man she hadn¡¯t seen coming from the other end of the path. He knelt on one knee, smiling as he held out his arms to her.


    Brown and green hair like Em, green eyes to match, a soft smile.


    Emmaline¡¯s older brother, Felix.


    He was the middle child and at twenty-one was ten years older than Emmaline.


    Em knew who he was immediately. Both from Emmaline¡¯s memories but also from the book.


    She scowled.


    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡±

 Ep. 3 - Cookies & Rebellion

    ¡°And why not? Are you mad at me? I¡¯m sorry, Sunshine, I didn¡¯t mean to neglect you. The memorial and Father¡¯s business has been keeping me quite busy.¡±


    She pressed her lips together. Emmaline would¡¯ve forgiven him and run into his arms for a reconciliatory hug. Em crossed her arms, watching him warily.


    ¡°Only Father may call me that.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± He dropped his arms down and gave her a pained smile. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t think about that. Will you come here for a hug?¡±


    Should she?


    She stared at him as she mulled over how to reply.


    The Lost Prince had been outside of both Em¡¯s and Maddie¡¯s preferred genres. Maddie liked bloody stories, especially who-dun-it¡¯s and thrillers. Em loved coming of age. And more recently, romances. Which was an experience she never expected to have.


    Both preferred good endings because, they agreed, their lives were blue enough without reading more hopelessness.


    The Lost Prince had been a tragedy story.


    They thought at first it was a Maddie story, but though it had plenty of gore, it did not end happily.


    Most of the characters had unhappy pasts and unhappy endings. And most of the characters were there just to make the tyrannical protagonist¡¯s life easier.


    Emmaline Grimshaw, for example, had a backstory that was told in roughly three paragraphs. Then she spent the rest of the story either bullying the people around her or cowering at the protagonist¡¯s feet.


    It was pathetic.


    But those three paragraphs had been very¡­ enlightening.


    Em knew exactly how Emmaline started on her tragic journey to being a footstool. Even if she didn¡¯t know the fine details between the two sets of circumstances.


    How would this man, Emmaline¡¯s brother, react if Em revealed some of her cards?


    That would make this dream more interesting.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t want a hug from you.¡±


    ¡°Emmaline,¡± he said earnestly. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. I shouldn¡¯t have neglected you. Please, can we be friends again?¡±


    The part of her that was Emmaline twisted in grief. The other part was¡­ annoyed.


    She sneered at him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t hug murderers.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    If his eyebrows had shot off his face, he couldn¡¯t have looked more surprised.


    Em folded her arms and scowled at him.


    ¡°You heard me. I. Don¡¯t. Hug. Murderers.¡±


    ¡°Emmaline, what are you talking about?¡±


    She huffed, took two steps closer, and leaned forward into his face. ¡°I know what you did,¡± she whispered. ¡°You hired the bad men to make the accident. Mother and Father are both gone because of you.¡±


    This time, he looked like he¡¯d been slapped.


    He gaped at her, unable to find any words. Then his eyes narrowed in fury and he whipped his head around.


    Looking at Tracy.


    Oops.


    ¡°What is she talking about?! What nonsense have you been spewing to her?!¡±


    ¡°I- it- I-¡±


    Tracy stuttered in confusion as Felix jumped to his feet and started marching toward her.


    Em hadn¡¯t wanted a particular reaction, but this definitely wasn¡¯t on her radar. Even though a part of her was saying, This is a dream, no one will get hurt¡­ She still ran ahead to get between him and her maid.


    ¡°Why are you blaming Tracy?¡±


    ¡°Move, Emmaline.¡±


    She folded her arms and glared up at him. ¡°If you must blame someone, then you better blame god. Because it was a god that told me.¡±


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    That was sort of true, right? The author could be a sort of god, yes?


    This time, he took a step back. Paling.


    That¡¯s right, like many people back home, people here believed in God. Actually, they believed in the existence of gods more here than back home. You didn¡¯t do anything major without a god¡¯s approval.


    Had he really jumped into this nonsense without getting that approval? Not that they were a huge factor, just they could make a lot of problems if you didn¡¯t have it.


    ¡°Which god would tell a child such lies?¡±


    ¡°Loki,¡± she lied. ¡°Loki told me all about it.¡±


    There was a moment of silence. Then Felix threw back his head in a laugh. It made the hair on her arms stand up.


    ¡°Did he, now? You do realize that Loki is the god of mischief and tricks, yes?¡± He leaned down so their noses were only inches apart. ¡°Sweet Sunshine, you can¡¯t believe in Loki.¡±


    If it meant getting Tracy out of trouble¡­


    ¡°He said if you¡¯re still alive by next month, then I can assume he was lying.¡±


    He smiled cheerfully and ruffled her loose hair. Em scowled and stepped back.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, young master.¡± Tracy bowed and held the position. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize any of this was going on.¡±


    Felix waved a hand.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± He gave Em a bright smile. ¡°I¡¯ll prove my innocence by surviving long after next month. The memorial is in seven days, just make sure she¡¯s ready.¡±


    ¡°Yes, young master.¡±


    Don¡¯t count on it, Em thought as she watched him walk away.


    Because to ensure his death happened, all she had to do was the easiest thing in the world.


    Absolutely nothing.


    ***


    Em sat at a table by her window. Before leaving for other duties, Tracy had left Em with three plates of different cookies and a cup of tea.


    She was thinking about the day she¡¯d had.


    Was this how Maddie felt when she was trying to get away with something? Provoking the stupidhead had been a lot more fun than she expected. It made her chuckle as she reached for a cookie and tasted the mildly sweet, vanilla flavor.


    Yes. Even though she knew it was only a day in this dream world, she¡¯d had a lot of fun.


    She¡¯d run in the garden. Noticed her lungs taking full breaths without wheezing or coughing. Felt the sunshine and the breezes like they were gifts from an angel to her skin.


    It was the best day she¡¯d had in a very, very long time.


    The chair was a little too big for her, so she kicked her legs and skimmed her toes against the floor.


    The only thing that would have made it better was if Maddie had been there.


    It made her sad.


    Either she¡¯d never see her sister again¡­ or she¡¯d only have a short time. But should she allow that separation to dictate if she enjoyed herself or not?


    It wouldn¡¯t change anything if she refused a second, ok, a fourth cookie, just because Maddie wasn¡¯t here to share it.


    Em nodded her head in decision.


    Yes.


    She¡¯d enjoy the cookies. And she¡¯d enjoy running, walking, climbing, and everything else she had to give up in the real world. She might even do things here she could never dream of back home.


    Like riding a horse.


    Her memories said she had a pony she¡¯d be allowed to ride again after the memorial.


    She chuckled. If she had time before the long darkness came, she¡¯d tell Maddie all about all of her adventures here.


    But, first, she had a few things she needed to do. Because there was no way in the world she was going to live the life of the original Emmaline Grimshaw.


    First.


    She got up and went to her bookshelf. In consideration of the memorial, she¡¯d been given three weeks off from her studies. Which included the basics of magic. Though her tutor had told Felix just two weeks ago that he didn¡¯t expect Em to excel in magic and should focus on other things.


    She pulled down the beginner¡¯s book of magical theory and opened it to the first page.


    Yes. Her memories as Emmaline were accurate.


    Magic was a manifestation of aura, which was linked to the natural world and usually expressed itself most dominantly in a particular element.


    Though in theory anyone with an aura could wield any element, they were most likely to achieve their highest potential if they stuck to their best element. And also in theory, one could continuously grow their powers until the moment of death. Though how quickly and by how much depended on the individual.


    Emmaline had no specific element that worked for her more than the others. They were all equally weak.


    Right now, anyway.


    Em wondered if the tutor had been lazy in his diagnoses or if Emmaline had had the potential to develop any of the elements to the same degree.


    Regardless, in this one area Em wasn¡¯t planning to change anything.


    She just wanted to make sure her dream-like ability to ¡®know¡¯ things was working. So she¡¯d be able to understand and remember how to use her abilities.


    Now, for a test subject.


    Preferably something that couldn¡¯t talk.


    She put the book away and left her room.


    No one paid attention to the child wandering around the building by herself. They were too busy cleaning, dusting, arranging, and a whole slew of other things to make the building look like more like a museum than it already did.


    She ended up in the kitchen.


    Cook wasn¡¯t happy.


    He was standing over a pile of crates, bags, and buckets. Yelling something about missing ingredients for the pies. Then Cook swung a fist and barely missed when the young kitchen helper ducked to avoid the blow.


    The boy stumbled back and held up both hands defensively.


    ¡°That was all they dropped off! I swear, I never touched the apples.¡±


    Cook swore again. Then he choked, and Em realized a heartbeat later he was looking at her.


    ¡°Young miss, what are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°I want to practice my magic. Is there a hurt cat or other critter around here?¡±


    Every single person who heard the conversation flinched. They were probably all thinking the same thing, too.


    Poor cat.

 Ep. 4 - Brotherly Betrayal

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not in here, miss. You could try the stables?¡±


    Em took the advice and went to the stables. It was considerably calmer out there. First she visited her pony, stroking the creature¡¯s face as it stuck its head through the gate and nickered at her.


    ¡°Sorry, I forgot to bring a treat,¡± she whispered to it. Stroking it¡¯s nose.


    It made her giddy to touch it. Even though she had Emmaline¡¯s memories, it wasn¡¯t the same as making her own. And knowing that this animal was her¡¯s. At least while she was still asleep.


    The pony seemed fine, so she walked up and down the aisle. Inspecting each of the huge horses closely.


    Since the household also had an active knighthood, there were quite a lot of horses.


    She was on number 12 when she heard Felix¡¯s voice outside.


    ¡°Sir Doyle! I didn¡¯t expect to see you so soon.¡±


    Em stiffened. Then in a panic, she ran into the nearest open stall. Closing the door as quietly as she could. She expected Felix to leave, heading toward the house, but instead he entered the stables.


    ¡°Do you have some news for me?¡±


    ¡°Yes, young master.¡±


    Em peeked through the cracks of the stall. Trying to see the two men as they walked down the aisle and stopped three horses away. Just out of sight but not out of earshot.


    ¡°So, what is my brother up to? Is he on his way?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll be delayed by a day or two. I¡¯m not sure he¡¯ll make it to the memorial.¡±


    ¡°Damn! I need him to be here!¡±


    ¡°Yes, we¡¯re doing the best we can, sir.¡±


    ¡°If this doesn¡¯t go to plan, then everything else will be tattered. Do you understand what that means for your promotion, Sir Doyle?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir, I understand.¡±


    ¡°What needs to happen for my brother to make it?¡±


    ¡°Her Highness the Crown Princess made the delay. No one knows her purpose other than the young master.¡±


    Felix swore, and Em¡¯s ears pricked.


    The Crown Princess.


    That¡¯s right. She was already engaged to the Crown Prince. Who is also known as Thiago Cyrin, the worst protagonist ever.


    What did she want with Emmaline¡¯s oldest brother?


    ¡°Do you think they¡¯re plotting something together?¡±


    The other man didn¡¯t answer, and Felix swore again.


    ¡°No. No, this is Flint we¡¯re talking about. The man¡¯s square as a desk. Where did she summon him to?¡±


    ¡°The Palace I believe, sir.¡±


    ¡°Then there¡¯s still hope.¡±


    She heard them moving again toward her. Leaning against the stall wall, she tried to peer through a small crack.


    And, with no warning, sneezed.


    For an instant, there was absolute silence.


    Then she yelped in surprise as the stall door abruptly swung open and a hand grabbed her by the nape of the neck. She struggled, but it was hopeless. Unceremoniously, the big man who¡¯d grabbed her dumped her at Felix¡¯s feet.


    She looked up into the face that gave her such mixed emotions.


    For an instant, the true Felix glared at her. She felt it like a stab to her eyeballs¡­ and to Emmaline¡¯s betrayed and unhappy heart.


    Then he sighed. Running a hand through his hair. She could almost read his thoughts in his expression.


    I don¡¯t have time to be playing with the little fool.


    ¡°Emmaline, what are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°I came to see my pony.¡±


    ¡°Really.¡± He turned and pointed. ¡°She¡¯s that way.¡±


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    Her shoulders dropped in annoyance. ¡°Obviously I hid from you as soon as I heard you.¡±


    He sighed again. Irritated. Visibly trying to keep his cool.


    She expected him to try reasoning with her. Instead, he pointed again. ¡°Out.¡±


    Cautiously, she glanced at the other man, the knight, who¡¯d dragged her out of hiding. Then she backed up to the wall, so she faced the two men as she inched around the murderous brother.


    ¡°Emmaline, go!¡±


    She bolted for the outside door.


    Once outside, she turned sharply left and climbed over the corral fence. Then walked along the backside of the stalls and stopped at a stall door, where she estimated the two men to be. There, she pressed her ear to it.


    ¡°... rid of the nuisance?¡±


    ¡°Easy, Doyle. Once Flint is out of the picture, I can just hand her over to the Marquis.¡±


    ¡°I thought you already forged his signature.¡±


    She wrinkled her forehead. They forged some marquis¡¯s signature? Or someone else¡¯s?


    ¡°Yes. And no one will question the signature once he¡¯s dead.¡­¡±


    There was a pause.


    ¡°What is it, young master?¡±


    ¡°I just had an idea of how to make sure he shows up. Come. I¡¯ll need you to deliver a letter.¡±


    Em hurried back to the corral fence and crouched down behind a trough. Watching the two men leave the stables and walk back toward the house.


    When she was sure it was safe, she stood up. Tapping the fencepost, she looked toward their backs.


    So.


    Felix not only arranged the murders of the Baron and his wife, but was actively working to sell her off even now. In the story, he¡¯d successfully sold her off. But by then, he¡¯d known Emmaline¡¯s talent and could bargain her straight into the Crown Prince¡¯s harem.


    Of course, she already knew he was intending to kill the other brother.


    Which Marquis was he talking about?


    There were four Duchies and each of them had at least one Marquis.


    The title had become more honorary as the borders of the Empire pushed away from their territories. But they still had significant power on the Emperor¡¯s counsel. Solely because they could still legally raise a battalion of 600 outside of their Duke¡¯s direct involvement.


    In fact¡­


    If she remembered correctly, the recent wars with the ¡®Triad Rebellion¡¯ had led to the bestowal of several more of these titles and lands. Currently, Emmaline¡¯s oldest brother, Flint, was up to inherit not only her father¡¯s title but a Marquis title as well.


    Flint¡¯s military activities, and his responsibilities as a Marquis taking over an enemy¡¯s former territory, was why he¡¯d left Felix in charge of the barony. Instead of overseeing it himself.


    That must¡¯ve made Felix chomp at the bit.


    Not only was he denied the family title by being born second, he also had to work for his brother. The best he could ever hope for was to be named a viscount. And that would only happen if he sucked up to Flint enough to get a recommendation.


    And a viscount, of course, didn¡¯t come with land and power built in.


    Too much work for too little reward.


    Understanding suddenly hit her.


    ¡°He needed Flint¡¯s signature,¡± she murmured to herself.


    She didn¡¯t know why that surprised her.


    Of course Flint Grimshaw was her actual guardian. Not Felix.


    But from her memories as Emmaline, she¡¯d thought the inheritance and the guardianship had been separated. Because Flint had never once stepped into the duties of guardianship.


    Too busy amassing his own power to bother with the unloved little sister.


    A depressed lump dropped into her stomach and for an instant, she stared at an ant crawling across the fence post.


    She missed Maddie. When was she going to wake up?


    Shaking it off, she climbed the fence and went back inside.


    At the far end of the stable, she finally heard a stable hand moving around. He was murmuring and muttering under his breath as he tried to get the big animal to drink warm water.


    The horse was not having it.


    The creature turned its head away. Kicking at its own belly as it made strained, whinnying noises.


    ¡°Come on, young buck,¡± the stable hand murmured. ¡°Just a little water. No, no, you can¡¯t go rolling around. I know it hurts, but you must stay upright if you don¡¯t want your insides to turn.¡±


    The stable hand was too engrossed with what he was doing to notice Em as she crept up to the stall¡¯s open side. Peeking at the animal.


    The whinnies sounded like the horse version of whimpers. Poor thing.


    It knocked the bowl of water out of the stable hand¡¯s grip. While the man bent over to retrieve the bowl, Em reached through the slats and put a hand on the creature¡¯s side.


    Healing was the easiest of all powers to do.


    It didn¡¯t require a particular element. (Though some people speculated it would be greatly enhanced by the water or the light elements).


    The reason it was so easy was because all one had to do was push their mana into the living thing. From there, the person¡¯s or creature¡¯s body would automatically use that mana to restore health.


    Talking to Maddie, both she and Em decided it had to do with DNA directing operations or enhancing the body¡¯s ability to heal itself.


    There was a problem with healing magic, though.


    And it was why she kept out of sight of the stable hand while she concentrated on pushing mana. He¡¯d stop her, push her away, do something to keep her from doing what she was doing.


    Healing magic was painful.


    Excruciatingly painful. A thousand bee stings and a snake¡¯s venom rotting your flesh, painful.


    So healing was considered an absolute last resort.


    You didn¡¯t do it unless you wanted to risk dying of shock instead of from the actual injury or illness.


    And by the time you¡¯re desperate enough to try, you¡¯re probably be dead either way.

 Ep. 5 - Dream Talking

    But if Em was successful, that wasn¡¯t something she had to worry about for her patient.


    It took a moment to get the flow going. But once it did, all she had to do was keep her thoughts on picturing golden mana coming out of her fingers to keep up the momentum.


    She didn¡¯t stop until the horse suddenly relaxed.


    Relaxed so completely it farted. Long and loud.


    She pulled her hand back and coughed while it turned its head to look at her.


    Gentle brown eyes looked her over. The creature whinnied softly and before she could think to step back, it leaned toward her and licked her hair. Then it farted again while the stable hand looked around its bulk to see what had caught its attention.


    Em wrinkled her nose.


    The stable hand moved swiftly between her and the horse. Holding out his hands like a shield.


    ¡°Afternoon, young miss. Is there something I can do for you?¡± He didn¡¯t wait for an answer. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be here, miss. This stallion don¡¯t like anyone but me and the young master.¡±


    He was trying to sound polite, but it was clear that he was impatient to see her there. And obviously he either hadn¡¯t seen or misinterpreted the horse¡¯s ¡®thank you¡¯ from a second ago if he thought she might be in danger.


    ¡°I was just looking.¡±


    The horse farted again, accompanied but a sudden splatter of manure.


    Em wrinkled her nose again and took a step back. The stable hand was distracted another way. With a beaming smile, he turned to the horse and grabbed the creature¡¯s head.


    ¡°Feeling better, are you? Just a little upset stomach? Thank the gods! I thought you might¡¯ve had something more serious. Wouldn¡¯t the young master be sad if his favorite horse came up dead while he was away? And I would¡¯ve been sad to lose you, too.¡±


    Em backed away.


    Grinning.


    So, even though this was a dream and she wasn¡¯t really Emmaline, at least her mind had fabricated it close to the original. Her powers hadn¡¯t changed or disappeared.


    Cheerfully, she spun around and walked out the building.


    She didn¡¯t know yet how she¡¯d use it, but such a valuable gift will come in handy in the future.


    As long as she was careful about where and when she used it.


    ***


    The time had skipped again. He had to be about fifteen now and visibly very different.


    He looked like he¡¯d aged not only from twelve to fifteen, but with an added weariness and ¡®world experience¡¯ in his eyes that hadn¡¯t been there before.


    Someone who¡¯d seen and done a lot.


    After taking in his overall appearance, Em zeroed in on the smaller things.


    Scars on his arms and all over his exposed upper body. Mostly, they looked like the sort of things a whip or a smaller lash would leave behind.


    There was also a tattoo that partially covered the back of his neck and wrapped around the front. Not a slave mark. With Emmaline¡¯s memories, she would have recognized one of those. They were usually made with a hot iron, which made a very different kind of scar.


    Since there was nothing in her memory to help her identify the tattoo, she mentally let it go to look around.


    He was sitting in a cell with dozens of other slaves, one knee tucked up to his chest. If Em were to guess, they were waiting to be sold. Though she didn¡¯t know if it was an auction or just an overnight holding cell.


    Even in a dream within a dream, it smelled bad.


    Too many unwashed bodies. Not enough latrines.


    She covered her nose and crouched next to the boy.


    Could he sense her?


    Apparently not. He just looked straight ahead. Not seeing anything until he would suddenly flinch and glance around. On alert. Especially when a guard passed the cell.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± Em whispered to the boy.


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    He didn¡¯t answer. Didn¡¯t see her. Didn¡¯t hear her.


    It made her sad.


    Especially when she realized she was no longer feeling what he was feeling. When had that stopped?


    If the story had been real, this would be a perfect explanation for why the ¡®lost prince¡¯ never appeared. As a slave, he was at the whim of whoever bought and sold him. And he hadn¡¯t passed the mana test from the last dream, so no one would have detected him.


    She sat down next to him and put a hand over his lifted knee.


    ¡°I¡¯ll stay with you. Until I wake up, I¡¯ll stay with you.¡±


    It was a silly thing to say. She couldn¡¯t seem to wake up from the main dream, but she woke up from in-dreams all the time. Every ¡®morning¡¯ and in the middle of the ¡®night.¡¯ With no control whatsoever.


    With nothing to do but sit and watch, Em started talking to him. Telling him about the accident, about Maddie and her antics, about being sick.


    ¡°They only gave me two years,¡± she told him. ¡°I survived three, so I guess I was lucky. But you don¡¯t feel lucky when you can¡¯t even get out of the car by yourself.¡±


    She paused. Emotion welling up. She wiped away a tear.


    ¡°Maddie always had to carry me. She took special classes, you know, so she could be my nurse. And she started working remotely so she could be home with me. I put her in so much debt and she already sacrificed so much for me.¡±


    Pause.


    The passing guard couldn''t hear her any more than the boy could, but she waited until he passed their cell, anyway.


    ¡°I hope¡­ I hope she¡¯s ok. And that she gets a chance to live a better life when I¡¯m gone. Maybe she¡¯ll even meet someone nice.¡±


    That¡¯s what she hoped for.


    Maddie could be a¡­ character.


    She swore and smoked and liked her tattoos. She didn¡¯t take bullcrap from anyone and rarely knew when being quiet was the better option.


    But her sister deserved a good relationship.


    Like the ones they used to drool over in the movies.


    And Em hadn¡¯t missed the wistful looks Maddie sometimes gave women carrying newborns. If she hadn¡¯t seen that, she never would have suspected that her brash older sister had any desire to be a mom.


    Especially the way she bad-mouthed their mother.


    Em talked until the boy fell asleep and she felt herself waking up.


    Once her presence left the cell, all that was left of her warmth were the dreams she left behind.


    ***


    The memorial was tomorrow.


    Em hadn¡¯t been idle. Though there wasn¡¯t much she could do.


    She couldn¡¯t outright ask anyone her real questions about the inheritance and guardianship. Someone would remember that she¡¯d asked and wonder how she¡¯d known to ask.


    It could be chalked up to curiosity.


    Or it could be interpreted as a premonition.


    If it was interpreted as a premonition, which it basically was, she could end up at the Temple. Or, worse, at the Palace.


    Most likely the Palace.


    She shuddered at the very idea, pausing mid-step and nearly tripping Tracy.


    The Temple might be alright. Probably better than her future with Felix as her guardian would be.


    But once the Crown Prince heard there was someone else with those powers, he¡¯d never leave her alone.


    No. She wouldn¡¯t risk it.


    So she asked her questions in a roundabout way. And usually starting with things she already knew the answer to, so she could lead into the other questions.


    Why wasn¡¯t Felix called Baron?


    Oh, brother Flint is the heir. Then why was Felix in charge? I heard brother Flint is about to become a Marquis. I don¡¯t know where I heard it¡­ Can¡¯t Felix become Baron since Flint is something better?


    Oh, I didn¡¯t know the title could only be passed to a second brother if the first brother died or abdicated.


    What would happen if Felix died, too? Would I inherit instead?


    I can¡¯t because I¡¯m a girl. That isn¡¯t fair!


    What would happen to me, then? What¡¯s a ward? Oh.


    Back to Flint, you can have two titles? Why would you want two titles?


    By the time she was done asking questions, Tracy and the butler both looked worn out.


    It was necessary.


    If she asked enough questions, many of the important ones might get lost. Of course, someone might still remember a specific question, but they¡¯ll also remember that she had made no real focus on the relevant ones.


    The end of her questions though was to find out who might end up being her guardian. In the event of the death of both brothers.


    Unfortunately, the servants didn¡¯t know.


    And as the day of the memorial drew nearer, even Tracy was forced to leave Em alone for long periods. Because the manor was so short staffed, they needed everyone they could get to help ready it for the event.


    She did find out which branch of the family it would likely be.


    Once Tracy left with Em¡¯s breakfast bowl, Em slipped out of her room and went upstairs.


    Felix had long ago commandeered Father¡¯s office for himself. He¡¯d changed things in subtle ways, making the room feel alien to Em as she looked around.


    The clock with the elephants on it, a foreigner¡¯s piece mother picked out for Father, had been sold. Then replaced with a taxidermy rodent that was neither mouse nor mole, but looked like it could eat her hand, anyway.


    Maybe a miniature monster?


    Some books had been switched out. Either taken to the family library or also sold.


    The portrait of Mother and Father had been removed from the mantel and the wall left bare.


    Those sorts of things.


    She wrapped her arms around herself and turned her back to the disturbingly empty wall. Scanning the bookcase.


    There!


    She was right, Felix hadn¡¯t removed this book.

 Ep. 6 - Hidden Witness

    She pulled it down and flipped to the last page.


    It was filled with names, birth dates, death dates, marriage dates, and places where a person¡¯s entire life history could be recorded in just a few paragraphs.


    It was the family registry.


    If you wanted to be closely tied to the main family, you had to prove one of your parents was related to the head of the house. Or get yourself adopted from a collateral line closer into the main line.


    Even for a barony, people worked surprisingly hard to be added to the registry.


    This was because if you were acknowledged as a family member of the nobility, it gave you an opportunity to either be knighted, marry higher up, or receive a viscount title of your own.


    Politics.


    There were a few places where being of noble blood was becoming less and less a factor in whether your skill and effort was acknowledged. But they were rare.


    Em started flipping the pages back slowly. Reading names and looking for her great uncle¡¯s line. Since her father had had only sisters, the local Marquis or the Duke would have to name an heir from that uncle¡¯s family instead of her father¡¯s family.


    It really sucked how little attention were paid to the girls.


    If their boys wanted to be ¡®part of the family¡¯ they usually had to go through the adoption process. But it wouldn¡¯t affect the line of succession at all. Even if they were adopted into a nearer family, they¡¯d get skipped for another relative.


    ¡°Bingo!¡±


    She tapped a finger on the page. Grinning.


    Then the doorknob rattled.


    Em froze for only a split second before she dove around the desk and underneath. Crap, crap, crap, crap, she chanted in her mind. The chant started as soon as she realized that if the person coming in sat down, they¡¯d know she was there immediately.


    Heck! If they came around the desk, they¡¯d know she was there. They only needed to look down.


    ¡°... It was a good deal. One of the best offers Emmaline could ever hope to get. She should be grateful I¡¯m looking after her best interests.¡±


    ¡°Deal?¡±


    She froze again and held her breath.


    Em knew that other voice. Though she hadn¡¯t heard it even once since becoming Emmaline.


    So, Felix succeeded. She didn¡¯t know how, but he succeeded.


    ¡°Poor choice of word,¡± said Felix soothingly. She could hear him hurrying to the desk. ¡°Of course I don¡¯t think of it that way. This is all for Emmaline¡¯s sake.¡±


    She was dead. Just a few more steps¡­


    But instead of going around the desk, there was a brief pause as papers rustled above her.


    ¡°Take a look at the contract. She¡¯ll be getting a large home, plenty of servants, jewels-¡±


    ¡°She has a home. Why does she need these things now?¡±


    ¡°Brother, in case you haven¡¯t noticed from my reports, we¡¯re losing money. The crops have been poor for two years now, which has impoverished our local economy. Add to that, our investments keep failing.¡±


    ¡°Your investments.¡±


    ¡°Which is why I¡¯m trying to secure Emmaline¡¯s future. If this trend keeps going, by the time of her debut no man will look at her. Then what will happen to her? Do you wish her confined to a nunnery or forced to learn a trade?¡±


    There was a short silence. Then the unmistakable sound of paper being ripped.


    ¡°What are you doing!?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s too young to be getting married, even with guardian approval. I¡¯ll send funds to cover the deficits. Get rid of this.¡±


    There was a small thud and Em squirmed around with the book clutched to her chest. Wishing she could see through the back of the desk.


    ¡°I can¡¯t just get rid of it! It¡¯s already in the approval process at the Palace-¡±


    ¡°How can it have gone that far without my signature?¡±


    There was a long, heavy pause.


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    ¡°You¡­ idiot. Do you know what the penalty is for forging official documents?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you since the funeral and you don¡¯t answer my letters. I get all my information on your whereabouts and orders through messengers. What else was I supposed to do? Besides, I thought you¡¯d be happy to be rid of the responsibility. Seeing how you¡¯ve refused to-¡±


    Slap! Thud!


    Em slapped a hand over mouth to hide her gasp of surprise when she felt someone fall into the desk. Just inches from her face.


    ¡°When the memorial is over,¡± said the familiar voice coldly, ¡°you and I will be going to the Palace. Together. Now, get out.¡±


    ¡°Get¡­ This is my office!¡±


    ¡°No, this is my office. I just let you borrow it. Out.¡±


    There was a long silence. In which Em could hear angry huffing on the other side of the desk¡¯s thin wooden wall. Then, with a sound oddly like a growl, Felix got to his feet and stalked out.


    Slamming the door behind him.


    Em clutched the book tighter. Hands trembling and focusing on her breathing.


    Keep it as quiet as a mouse. As quiet as a mouse.


    No, quieter than a mouse. You can usually hear mice rustling around and she needed to be silent.


    She heard someone moving toward the desk, and she stopped breathing altogether.


    A head bent down to look at her.


    The cold, chiseled features of her oldest brother. Unlike Em and Felix, he¡¯d inherited his birth mother¡¯s raven black hair. Making him an oddity in the family.


    Flint Grimshaw.


    The man who¡¯d never smiled at her in any of Emmaline¡¯s memories. Who rarely did more than grunt whenever she¡¯d tried to talk to him.


    A man who inspired thrills of fear in her stomach.


    Because he reminded her of the bird monster shaped like a crow. Big, black, and scary.


    In her head, time stopped. All she was aware of was his gaze and the way the book was digging into her chest from holding it so hard.


    Then she couldn¡¯t take it anymore. Her breath flew out in a whoosh and the spell broke.


    ¡°Emmaline,¡± he said coldly.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t spying!¡± Panicked, she held up the book. ¡°I just wanted to borrow this, and you two came in and I heard you talking. But I wasn¡¯t listening! I didn¡¯t want to interrupt, you see, and-¡±


    ¡°Enough.¡±


    Flint sighed and took the book from her. Then he put it on the desk and held out a hand.


    She hesitated.


    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s a snake that will bite you?¡±


    ¡°N-no.¡±


    Hesitantly, she took the offered hand. His movements were careful, so she didn¡¯t accidentally hit anything as he pulled her out from under the desk.


    She saw his eyes flick to her trembling hand and he let it go. For an instant, neither of them moved or spoke.


    Em looked at the ground. Hugging herself and waiting for his verdict.


    Would he punish her for coming in here without permission? Felix would pretend good humor. But with her being openly hostile toward him, maybe it would be different.


    ¡°What were you looking for?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    She looked up. Confused.


    He tapped the book


    ¡°What were you looking for?¡±


    Oh. She couldn¡¯t tell him the truth. Convulsively, she squeezed her elbows harder.


    ¡°I-I wanted to see what year Mother and Father were married.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t you have asked? Every servant here knows.¡±


    ¡°I-I wanted to, uh, see Father¡¯s handwriting¡­¡±


    It sounded so lame!


    She looked down again. Biting her lip. It was stupid! All of this was just a dream. Yet she could feel her body reacting like a child overwhelmed with emotion. Tears, confusion, wanting to run¡­


    There was some rustling, and she looked up again to see that Flint had opened the book and was flipping through. Then he stopped and turned it toward her.


    Finley Grimshaw married Marge Pearson, year 345.


    In her Father¡¯s handwriting.


    She wiped away a tear.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Flint closed the book and took it back to the bookshelf. Em wiped another tear, watching him.


    That had been¡­ an unexpected reply to her intrusion. And it made her feel calmer, somehow.


    ¡°Am I really going to marry the Marquis?¡±


    She hadn¡¯t meant to ask. Actually, she knew the answer. As long as the signature was proven to be fake, the wedding wouldn¡¯t happen. Not now or in the future.


    It suddenly occurred to her they might not prove it to be fake once both brothers were dead.


    That¡¯s not good¡­


    ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Flint shoved the book back on the shelf. There was¡­ anger behind the answer and she shrank back a step when she saw his face.


    He took a deep breath and smoothed his expression.


    ¡°That bas-the honorable Marquis,¡± he said, sarcastically, ¡°not only has one foot in the grave but is a known pedophile. I don¡¯t know what my idiot- I don¡¯t know what Felix was thinking. You¡¯ll be staying here, so think nothing of it.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°Now.¡± He pointed to the door. ¡°I have work to do.¡±


    Dismissed, she left the office. Then stood in the hallway and stared at the wall.


    Baffled.


    And half wondering if that really just happened.


    After Em left, Flint sat heavily in the desk chair and looked around. His eyes lingering on the things that Felix had changed about this room.


    With a grunt and a shake of his head, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the ¡®thing¡¯ the Princess had given him.

 Ep. 7 - Mothers

    It was just a regular pendant. Nothing special about the mounting, which was as plain as you can get. The green jewel wasn¡¯t even a precious stone. Just something pretty that a commoner would wear.


    But he could feel the power of lightning and water wrapped together and inserted inside.


    For luck, she¡¯d told him. Firmly. Don¡¯t take it off. Ever. You hear me?


    That woman¡­ ever since he¡¯d met her two years ago, when she was pretending to be a mercenary, she¡¯d been an enigma that had continuously baffled him.


    She¡¯d called him to the Palace just to give him this.


    If the Crown Prince found out, he¡¯d be furious. He may be a neglectful bastard, but he was well known for his possessiveness. The Princess¡¯s favor¡­ was not something that would be good for the Grimshaws to have.


    Still.


    He ran a thumb over the polished surface of the stone. Then stuck it back in his pocket.


    What else had his brother been up to? He opened a drawer and started going through paperwork.


    ***


    Tracy finished with Em¡¯s hair and leaned down to hug the little girl.


    ¡°Last day of black,¡± she whispered. ¡°Personally, I think the Mistress will be glad you can wear pink again. She really loved it on you.¡±


    Em nodded and wiped away a surprise tear.


    Gods of this world! She giggled to herself. Playing Emmaline was much easier than she thought. She knew those memories so well, and she felt so connected to them now, that she might as well have been Emmaline.


    Sometimes it was hard to remember she was almost 18 outside the dream.


    It was going to be hard going back.


    The thought took away any humor she felt, and she hopped off the bench. Turning her back to the dressing mirror.


    ¡°How do I look?¡±


    She spun in a circle, and Tracy clapped her hands with appropriate admiration.


    ¡°The ceremony won¡¯t start for an hour. Would you like something to eat before that?¡±


    Eat? She¡¯d had breakfast only a couple hours ago. She could wait for the luncheon¡­ maybe. The fuss that was going to start later would probably drive the luncheon out of everyone¡¯s minds.


    She¡¯d have to figure out how to get food while the adults were freaking out.


    For now, she shook her head.


    ¡°Then stay here. I have a few things to do downstairs and I¡¯ll be back up for you when it¡¯s time.¡±


    Tracy patted her head and left the room.


    Em turned in a slow circle. Looking around.


    The black hangings were going to go. Not that they had covered as much of her room as they should have (since Tracy had put them up, she had decided that it wasn¡¯t good for Em to be surrounded completely by black).


    There were three new dresses in her wardrobe. Tracy had almost fainted when Em requested a yellow dress and a blue dress in addition to her old pink and white favorite. Emmaline had been obsessed and refused to wear anything else before the mourning period.


    Em kinda liked the pink and white as well but whoever chose the dress styles sucked. It made her think of some old fashion doll and she wasn¡¯t looking forward to wearing all the frills.


    But it was still better than only black.


    Maddie loved black. She¡¯d look like a biker chick all the time if she didn¡¯t have to look presentable on video chats.


    Well.


    Em didn¡¯t want to stay here for an hour. If she did, she¡¯d drive herself crazy thinking about Maddie and about what was going to happen today.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    With a decisive nod, she snuck out of her room.


    Fortunately, everyone was too busy to do more than glance at her. If she was unlucky, someone might comment to Tracy that they¡¯d seen her, but she doubted they would.


    Twice, she offered to help.


    It was a sign of the servants¡¯ fatigue and stress that she only had to push a little before they gave in. Giving her tasks that didn¡¯t require her to be seen by the guests and embarrass the Grimshaw family.


    While she was taking a small flower arrangement to the reception room, where everyone would gather for the actual ceremony in an hour, a messenger stepped into the room behind her.


    ¡°Could someone help me?¡± he asked. A little annoyed. He held up something. ¡°I have a letter for Commander Grimshaw. Can someone direct me to him?¡±


    No one seemed to notice him other than Em as they hurried about their business.


    Em frowned and put down her flower arrangement.


    ¡°Anyone?!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    She held up a hand, and the man¡¯s face blanked momentarily.


    ¡°Oh, miss. Thank you, but-¡±


    It was a servant¡¯s job to deal with messengers. At least it was until the recipient of the letter was involved.


    ¡°Do you want to see my brother or not?¡±


    The man sputtered, looked around, and sighed in defeat. Probably realizing that he¡¯d be waiting for a long, long time if he didn¡¯t go now.


    ¡°Thank you, miss.¡±


    Em knew from what he¡¯d been doing yesterday that Flint was probably in the office again. So she led the messenger upstairs, where the activity level dropped significantly. Really, it was almost eerie how quiet it was up there.


    Finally, she knocked on the office door.


    ¡°What?¡±


    Yesterday she¡¯d been afraid of that voice. Remnants of Emmaline¡¯s old feelings for him. Today, almost adult Em was more involved, and she squared her shoulders. She cupped her hands around her mouth and pressed it to the door.


    ¡°There¡¯s a messenger for you!¡±


    A pause. Then the door was opened by Flint. He frowned down at her then at the messenger. Who hurriedly bowed and held out the letter. Flint took it.


    ¡°Do you wish for me to take a reply, master, sir?¡±


    ¡°No. You¡¯re dismissed.¡±


    The messenger breathed a barely audible sigh of relief, and both he and Em turned to leave.


    ¡°What are you doing, Emmaline?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m taking him to the front door.¡±


    ¡°No, you wait a moment. Just follow this hallway and go down the front stairs, you¡¯ll find the door.¡±


    Oh, crap, Em thought as she fidgeted. Waiting while Flint frowned after the messenger. Then he opened the door wider.


    An invitation to come in.


    Reluctantly, she entered. And flinched when the door closed behind them.


    ¡°Take a seat.¡±


    Flint waved at a chair that had been placed in front of the desk sometime in the last day or so. Cautiously, she sat down and waited as he went around the desk and opened a drawer. He pulled out a small package and came back to her.


    To her surprise, he got down on one knee and held out the little cloth-wrapped package.


    Gaze intense but not directed at her.


    Bewildered, she took it and carefully unwrapped it.


    The little necklace had an intricate mounting, shaped like vines, leaves and flowers. All wrapped around a vibrant sapphire.


    Her mouth fell open even as Emmaline¡¯s memories supplied where it had come from. Tears filled her eyes.


    ¡°This-¡± she choked. ¡°This is Mother¡¯s-?¡±


    ¡°Yes. You were supposed to inherit all her jewelry-¡± He paused. His jaw tightening in anger. ¡°However, this was the only piece that survived the past year. Take it now.¡±


    Wiping her eyes, she dropped the handkerchief it had been wrapped in and tried to put the necklace on. Her fingers couldn¡¯t quite get the clasp and she struggled for a solid thirty seconds as tears blurred her vision.


    Then she felt a gentle set of fingers take the necklace and fix the clasp for her.


    She wiped her eyes as her brother stood up.


    The scary man walked around to the other side of the desk again. Sitting down and watching her as she fiddled with the necklace and looked between him and it.


    ¡°You have a question?¡±


    She bit her lip and decided nothing she said here would hurt her.


    After all. It was all just a long, strange dream.


    ¡°I thought you hated Mother.¡± And me, she added to herself before continuing. ¡°Why did you save this?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t hate your mother.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you did,¡± Em insisted. ¡°You were always so rude to her and Father. And you never came home if you could help it. And-and you never answered letters. And-¡±


    If she wasn¡¯t stumbling so much, she might¡¯ve found other signs of his dislike for his own family.


    The man held up a hand to stop her.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t hate your mother.¡±


    He paused and, sensing he had something else to say, Em stayed silent. Watching.


    He sighed and leaned back in his chair. Rubbing his forehead.


    ¡°It¡¯s a long story, Emmaline, but it wasn¡¯t your mother that I hated. Father was the one I couldn¡¯t stand. And I kept out of your mother¡¯s way so I didn¡¯t take it out on her.¡±


    ¡°Why? What did Father do?¡±


    He snorted quietly and crossed his arms. ¡°You want me to defame him on his memorial day? Let it rest, girl.¡±

 Ep. 8 - Family in Flames

    ¡°No.¡± She lifted her chin. Clutching the necklace. ¡°I want to know. Even if it hurts.¡±


    He raised a slow eyebrow. Watching her. Finally, he shrugged.


    ¡°At the risk of being the tactless adult, I suppose I owe you at least that much.¡± He pressed his lips together. ¡°The first Baroness-¡±


    ¡°Your mother,¡± Em interrupted.


    ¡°Yes, my mother. Father and Mother married on contract, like many nobles do. When Mother was alive, Father didn¡¯t even pretend to be faithful or considerate. He took advantage of her, had two children with her, and did whatever else the hell-heck he wanted. It left her lonely and angry.¡±


    Em opened her mouth and closed it. Fiddling with the necklace.


    ¡°Did Mother and Father-?¡±


    ¡°No. Your mother came around long after my mother died and was completely innocent of the mess. By then Father had reformed a lot as well. I¡¯m the one who never forgave him.¡±


    ¡°Is that why you resented me?¡±


    ¡°Pardon?¡±


    Em looked down at her lap. It may be a dream, but she wasn¡¯t sure she could ask while looking at his cold stone face. She just kept going because she was fairly certain he wouldn¡¯t come around the desk and kill her.


    ¡°They were happy with me. And they were good parents to me. Did you resent me?¡±


    There was a long, long pause. She flinched when he suddenly chuckled.


    It was a bitter, hard chuckle.


    ¡°You know, perhaps I did. That wasn¡¯t fair, was it?¡± There was a creak as he got out of his chair and came around the desk again. ¡°Is there anything else you want to know?¡±


    ¡°Not-not now. No.¡±


    Flint held out his hand to her, and she slowly took it. Letting him help her off the chair, which was too big for her.


    Like yesterday, once the door closed behind her, she stared at the wall for a few minutes outside the office.


    Chewing on the revelations.


    Maybe she should¡¯ve asked more. Because after today, she wouldn¡¯t get another chance.


    She just didn¡¯t think her heart could take anymore.


    The image he¡¯d painted of a neglectful, perhaps emotionally abusive father, was in sharp contrast to her own memories of him. It made her feel confused and¡­ disappointed.


    The disappointment ran so deep that she felt depression just behind it.


    Black and dark and empty depression. The kind she used to fall into when she had to stay in the hospital for days. Wallowing in thoughts of dying and fear of what might or might not come next.


    She made it back to her room just minutes before Tracy arrived.


    Unaware of Em¡¯s truancy but noticing her mood, the maid cheerfully tried to cheer Em up as she checked Em¡¯s hair and dress. Then led the girl downstairs.


    Tracy¡¯s effort¡¯s partially worked. Though something gloomy sat in Em¡¯s stomach as she followed Tracy away from her room.


    From the stairs, Em could see guests gathered outside and in the front hall. No one would go into the reception room until her brothers came and opened the doors. Ah, and there was the priest.


    She was just wondering if he served the god of the dead specifically or was just doing the rites today, when there was an angry shout upstairs.


    ¡°What the hell are you talking about?!¡±


    Startled, she turned toward the shout with about half the guests. One hand on the banister for balance.


    Pause. ¡°No! I will not be quiet! How dare you accuse me of such a thing?!¡±


    Now there was no one who wasn¡¯t paying attention to the drama happening somewhere just out of sight.


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    Then Felix came out of a hallway. Stomping to the top of the stairs and glaring over his shoulder.


    ¡°You call that proof!? You won¡¯t get away with trying to frame me like that!¡± Then, he turned to the people watching him from below. Melodramatically, he said for the entire room to hear, ¡°My dear brother just accused me of embezzlement. I¡¯m formally challenging that bastard to a duel.¡±


    Em could imagine what the other guests were thinking.


    How inappropriate for the dirty laundry to be aired out like this! And on their parents¡¯ death memorial day!


    But Em was not surprised.


    What little information she had on the event didn¡¯t tell her what it was over, but she¡¯d expected something to happen.


    She¡¯d expected to be calm about it.


    Expected to watch dispassionately as the two horrible brothers faced each other.


    But as Flint emerged from the hallway, a vein popping out of the side of his neck and his hard gaze fixed on Felix, anxiety grew in her stomach. Overtaking the emotions from the morning.


    ¡°A duel? Have you gone mad?¡±


    Em could barely hear Flint¡¯s growl from where she was, so she knew the guests couldn¡¯t hear.


    ¡°Yes, brother, a duel. You¡¯re good at those, aren¡¯t you? So you should feel at an advantage.¡±


    Felix wasn¡¯t bothering to lower his voice.


    ¡°I have no desire to drag this to bloodshed-¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯d rather drag my name through pig muck?!¡± This time Felix shouted. He looked like a madman, practically frothing at the mouth with rage. ¡°Either accept the duel or admit dishonor.¡±


    Ah. So that¡¯s how he was going to play it.


    If Flint had gone straight to the proper authorities instead of confronting Felix, then Felix would have been dragged to prison or put on house arrest while an investigation occurred.


    It would have still been dishonorable to the family name, but not irreparably so. Because such scandals happened often enough that it was food for passing gossip, but not surprising.


    However, challenging a war veteran to a duel and the veteran turning it down, that was a socially marring circumstance. A confession that the veteran either was no longer fit for service or had somehow cheated his way to the top without the proper skills.


    For someone in active duty, it could be career damaging.


    Flint clenched both fists by his side, staring at Felix with a flat glare. Then nodded. Just one sharp jab downward with his chin.


    ¡°Get your sword, brother,¡± Felix seethed. ¡°I will meet you outside.¡±


    Felix swept down the stairs and Tracy had to hurry to get out of his way before he could push her over. Em hugged the banister, mutely watching her once favorite brother throw a fit all the way outside.


    Then she looked back up the stairs at the hulk of the other brother.


    The negligent one. The one who was supposed to be her guardian but hadn¡¯t kept enough tabs on her to know what Felix had been doing.


    He was staring after Felix with a hard, unreadable expression. Then, as though he felt her gaze among all the other people staring and whispering in the room, he looked at her. Met her eyes.


    He gave her a small nod, turned, and went back down the hallway and out of sight.


    ¡°A duel is no place for a child,¡± Tracy whispered. For the umpteenth time as she tried to follow Em¡¯s nimble dashes through the gathering people.


    Em found a place out the outskirts of the growing circle. Watching Felix bounce on his toes.


    The stupidhead was trying not to smile.


    Em wondered if she was the only one who could tell he was excited, not angry or nervous.


    How do you intend to win? She watched him. As far as Emmaline¡¯s memory knew, Felix was not well known for his swordsmanship. And as far as she knew, Flint had always beaten him in sparring matches when they were boys.


    And since the time he¡¯d been sent off as a squire, Flint had taken part in wars and monster hunts with scary success.


    So how?


    The priest anxiously took a position at the edge of the circle, just a few feet away from her. The man was wringing his hands and muttering under his breath. She could almost swear his face grew paler and paler as the time passed.


    Finally, Flint appeared, and a hush fell over the crowd.


    As people made a path for him to get through, Tracy finally reached Em¡¯s side and put a hand on her shoulder.


    Flint strode through, fixing his eyes on Felix.


    She was sure the oldest brother hadn¡¯t even looked her way. But without looking away from Felix he called, ¡°Maid, take my sister away. This is no place for her.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I said,¡± muttered Tracy. Relieved. She gently grasped Em¡¯s arm and tugged.


    All Em had to do was nothing.


    That was all she had to do. Then her cards will be dealt differently. Her life will change. And she won¡¯t end up in the miserable circumstances that she¡¯d be in at story¡¯s end.


    Letting Tracy take her away shouldn¡¯t be a problem.


    So why did her stomach clench in fear?


    She yanked her arm out of Tracy¡¯s grasp and pushed her way back through the crowd.


    ¡°Miss Emmaline! Miss Emmaline!¡±


    She ignored Tracy and broke free of the guests. Only to lift her skirts and continue her mad dash toward the building. Even though it wasn¡¯t far away, she was a little out of breath by the time she got there and ran around the corner.


    There she promptly threw herself to the ground and crawled under the bushes that lined the outside wall.

 Ep. 9 - The Duel

    A second later, Tracy came. Huffing and puffing as she looked wildly around. Her eyes flicking in all directions but where Em was at. Making her decision, the maid continued her stumbling run, going through a gated archway and into the garden.


    Em watched Tracy go.


    She should follow Tracy. Get away from the duel.


    ¡°The rules of the duel,¡± someone shouted. Em jumped and turned her head to listen. ¡°The duel doesn¡¯t end until an opponent is incapacitated or dead. Incapacitated includes being disarmed, dismembered, or pinned. The winner may deal death in case of incapacitation. Do both of you wish to proceed?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡±


    Em heard Felix¡¯s arrogant voice rise like a cannon over the announcer.


    ¡°Then when I drop this handkerchief, the duel begins. Good luck.¡±


    Em looked around one more time, then crawled out of the bushes. She was covered in twigs, leaves and dirt, but she didn¡¯t care.


    She didn¡¯t care!


    Her legs wobbled a little as she raced around the corner again and then approached the crowd. How was she going to get through now? And she had to hurry!


    The clang of metal on metal hit her nerves with every strike. Especially since she couldn¡¯t see anything! Curse her shortness! Is there a life, or a dream, where she wasn¡¯t short?!


    A gasp rippled through the crowd.


    ¡°Did you see that?!¡±


    ¡°Felix scratched him. I didn¡¯t think that was possible!¡±


    Feeling frantic, Em dropped to her knees once more and began crawling between people¡¯s legs.


    There were gasps and exclamations of surprise but she just kept crawling. Going as quickly as she could as she felt some of the more well-meaning of the guests try to stop her.


    Her sleeve ripped under the pressure of one of those attempts. Making a whole section of the small crowd tumble into each other as the woman fell. Thank you, Felix, for ordering a cheap dress!


    She¡¯d almost reached the priest when someone successfully grabbed her around the middle and pulled her up. Em squirmed frantically, trying to free herself.


    ¡°Take her away,¡± someone whispered.


    ¡°But-¡± protested the man holding her. Unwilling to leave the spectacle.


    A gasp rippled through the crowd again, and Em was momentarily forgotten. Felix was on one knee, holding his bleeding side. Flint pointed his blade at him.


    ¡°As expected,¡± someone muttered. Pleased.


    ¡°Felix was a fool to challenge him.¡±


    ¡°Now what will the Commander do?¡±


    Flint was ignoring the whispers. Glaring down at his stupid brother.


    ¡°Do you yield, Felix Grimshaw?¡±


    ¡°And if I don¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re incapacitated. I could kill you.¡±


    Em squirmed free. Now that the worst was over, her captor didn¡¯t see any reason to hold on to her. She tripped once about a foot from the priest, landing on her knee.


    Come on!, she fumed inwardly as she got back up and pushed through people. There weren¡¯t many people here, but it was almost as hard to get through this crowd as a mosh pit! Why did they have to pack themselves so tightly? Were they really that afraid of missing something?!


    ¡°No. I don¡¯t think I do yield.¡±


    Em didn¡¯t see what happened.


    All she knew was just as she was reaching the priest, the crowd once again gasped.


    She¡¯d seen Felix on the ground just a second before. Now he was up, Flint¡¯s sword flung across the circle¡­ and Felix had somehow sunk a knife into Flint¡¯s side.


    The problem was, Flint had also been playing dirty and had a knife with him as well.


    Both brothers let go of their weapons. Felix collapsed where he was while Flint stumbled back three steps before landing on one knee. He yanked the knife from his side and tried to quench the flow of blood.


    Blood puddled around both of them. And as though time slowed, all Em was aware of were their gasps as they fought to live.


    The black orbs Em had seen in her second Prince dream came back. But this time, Emmaline¡¯s memory told her what they were.


    Death spirits floated around both of them.


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    Growing blacker and stronger as their deaths approached.


    All Em had to do was¡­ nothing¡­


    In the original story, Emmaline still thought her favorite brother loved her. Even though he¡¯d neglected her for a year, supposedly to tend to the duties of the barony.


    Even with that, she¡¯d still loved him best.


    In the original, Emmaline had run to Felix.


    Em and the priest started moving at the same time. Racing across the space and fixing their eyes on the dying pair.


    The priest would¡¯ve been aiming for Flint. Who was the heir and would officially inherit the title the day after the memorial. But Em was younger and faster.


    Flint fell over in the short time it took for her to reach him.


    ¡°Wait! Young lady, no!¡±


    She ignored the priest and fell to her knees next to Flint. Putting her hands on his hands, bloodying her fingers. Unaware of Flint struggling to look at her as she poured everything she had into him.


    It was harder than trying to pour mana into the horse.


    Her strung up emotions made it difficult to concentrate, to create that image of a golden thread from her to him.


    Still, she forced her thoughts there. Forced herself to make the string bigger. Now it was the size of a drinking straw. Now a two-inch pipe.


    The priest must have realized it was too late to help Flint. He would have felt Em¡¯s power pouring into the victim, which was all anyone could really do. So instead, the priest dropped next to Felix and poured power into him.


    Felix screamed!


    Breaking Em¡¯s concentration.


    As awareness of her surroundings came back, she felt lightheaded and swayed. Someone kept her from falling and pulled her into their firm arms.


    While behind her, Felix continued to scream until he was hoarse. No, he screamed until three feet in all directions abruptly exploded with more death orbs.


    She felt several orbs brush against her. It was the strangest sensation, something that happened in her mind rather than on her skin. She flinched away from it and the arms tightened around her.


    Then, it was over.


    All¡­ completely¡­ over¡­


    She panted. Dizzy and confused.


    It felt like it had taken hours, but really must¡¯ve only been seconds. Half a minute at most.


    Despite herself, she started sobbing.


    She wasn¡¯t sure why she was so upset. She was an adult, darn it! And she¡¯d been expecting this.


    ¡°Someone call Emmaline¡¯s maid,¡± a voice said hoarsely above her head. She felt a wet hand press her face into a broad chest.


    He sounded just as exhausted as she felt.


    Of course he was.


    He¡¯d almost died and received emergency magical first aid. He was just lucky it didn¡¯t also hurt and kill him like it had Felix.


    By the time Tracy came for her, Em was falling in and out of consciousness. And she was half aware that there were conversations going on around her. Mostly about the memorial and Felix¡¯s body and taking care of the guests¡­


    Tracy picked Em up. Em was too big for Tracy to be carrying her. But Em wouldn¡¯t let Flint go until it was Tracy trying to take her away.


    Then the child went limp in exhaustion.


    At least the crying stopped.


    ¡°Get her cleaned up and put her to bed.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    Flint watched the woman and child leave. Then touched the spot where only a short time before he¡¯d received a mortal wound. One that would have killed him in less than five minutes.


    ¡°Sir?¡±


    He looked up. Good. It was one of his knights. He took the man¡¯s offered hand and allowed him to pull him up.


    As soon as he was on his feet, he lowered his voice for only his knight to hear. ¡°Investigate Felix¡¯s weapons. They both felt off.¡±


    The knight discretely nodded. And while Flint went about calming the guests and sending them home, his man casually picked up both Felix¡¯s knife and his sword before walking away.


    Even without guests, the memorial had to be done today.


    They couldn¡¯t afford any more cursings on their house.


    It was only Flint and the priest who entered the reception room. He moved slowly, so he didn¡¯t end up face-planting.


    Honestly, it felt a lot like times he¡¯d spent three and four days on the battlefield with little or no sleep. His mind was oddly and deceptively invigorated, but his body was feeling the fatigue.


    There was a time he could¡¯ve done two hours a night for weeks.


    Now, he was just tired.


    He knelt next to the memorial alter. Where tufts of hair, taken from the bodies of the late Baron and Baroness, awaited blessing. They sat in two ornamental bowls.


    Also on the table was a small brazier.


    The priest lit the brazier with a push of mana. Then began his prayers.


    Praying for the couple¡¯s safe journey to the afterworld.


    And praying for the spirits of death to disperse and leave the living alone.


    They were long prayers. If Flint couldn¡¯t feel their power like a fog rolling over him, he would have impatiently told the man to hurry it up.


    Instead, he closed his eyes and fought the fatigue.


    Once the prayers and hand waving were finished, the priest picked up each bowl one at a time. Dumping them into the brazier, where fire consumed them.


    Flint wrinkled his nose at the smell.


    ¡°Blessings on your house, my lord.¡± The priest¡¯s voice was hollow and tired. The words were hollow, too.


    Now Flint had to do this whole thing all over again in another year to the day. He gritted his teeth.


    He should just let Felix rot in limbo.


    Flint waved a dismissal to the priest. And remained on his knees by the memorial alter long after the man left the room.


    He touched his side again.


    He¡¯d received healing magics before. And each time it had nearly killed him. The only reason it hadn¡¯t killed him was because he didn¡¯t wait until the last minute to receive the treatment. That way his body was still strong enough to withstand the agony.


    There had been no pain this time.


    Nothing beyond the natural pain of being stabbed.


    Which was¡­ interesting.


    He needed to think about the implications for a while longer.


    ***


    ¡°Stop it!¡±

 Ep. 10 - Dor Poison

    The whip came down with another crack and the boy writhed in pain and tears.


    Em threw herself at the person wielding the whip. Trying to grab his arm and hold on. Trying to get it to stop.


    She might as well have been made of air for all the good she did.


    ¡°Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!¡±


    It was only ten lashes, but what kind of monsters would whip a human being like that?! And this was a dream, darn it! A dream! A lucid dream. She should be able to do something! Like in the other dreams! She should!


    As a last ditch effort, she threw herself over the boy. Felt the whip flash right through her.


    Air. That was all she was.


    ¡°Enough.¡±


    Em kept her arms protectively around the boy and glared at the woman. Unaware of Em¡¯s glare, the woman languidly stood up from where she¡¯d been watching.


    She looked like a noblewoman.


    Dressed in a fine gown, it made a soft swooshing noise when she walked toward them. Her lips turned up in a smirk as she reached down and grabbed the boy by the chin. Em tried to swat her and was furious when her hand when right through.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± She rubbed a thumb under his eye. Em snarled at her. ¡°You actually made the arrogant whelp cry. How did you do that?¡±


    ¡°I infused the whip with a dor poison.¡±


    ¡°Really? Can you use it on my other slaves? None need as much retraining as this one, but I have several that could use a reminder of their place.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid the poison would kill any but a lycanthrope. And even then,¡± the trainer threw a look over the young prince. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t try it on a prey animal. What kind of beast is he? I¡¯ve never seen one stay on their knees after three lashes.¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, by the time I bought him someone had already sealed his other form away. I would have loved to know myself. Will you tell us, little puppy?¡±


    She stroked the boy¡¯s cheek, and he tried to yank himself back.


    ¡°Good gods! How is he still-?¡±


    The woman slapped Prince, eyes hardening as she straightened up. ¡°Keep going,¡± she told the trainer coldly. ¡°Until the wretch passes out.¡±


    Em cried, begging them to stop as she clung to the boy¡¯s shoulders.


    Unable to do anything. Unable to help.


    Unable to stop them.


    The boy finally collapsed, and she opened her eyes.


    She sat up quickly, wildly looking around her pink and white room. Ready to beat that wretched woman to death!


    Cheeks still wet with her tears.


    Her wild gaze stopped on someone watching her. The man was sitting in a chair beside the bed, arms crossed, leaning back. Saying nothing as they met each other¡¯s eyes.


    She wiped away more tears.


    ¡°Hello,¡± she whispered timidly. Her throat sore.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t wake you.¡±


    His voice was as gruff as his gaze was cold. Did he even try to wake her? He¡¯d seemed too relaxed in his seat.


    ¡°Are you alright now?¡±


    She nodded and looked down at her lap. Clutching the blanket. Fighting tears.


    Crap, why? Why won¡¯t these dreams just end? Were her good dreams worth the horrible Prince dreams?


    I want Maddie.


    She wiped away more tears and was startled to realize someone was holding a folded white cloth close to her face.


    Hesitantly, she took the handkerchief.


    ¡°I¡¯ll send someone with some food,¡± said Flint stiffly as he stood up. ¡°Rest today. And tomorrow. I¡¯ll check on you at supper.¡±


    Em watched him leave.


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    Why had he come in the first place?


    Too tired to think about it any longer, Em curled up in a ball and played with the handkerchief between dozing.


    Only to sit up with a gasp.


    Her face, already pale from exhaustion, turned sallow.


    Flint Grimshaw knew.


    There was no way he didn¡¯t know!


    What had she done?! All she had to do was nothing. Then no one would know about her talent with healing!


    And if no one knew, her guardian wouldn¡¯t sell her off to the Emperor. And she wouldn¡¯t live a miserable life being used and trapped. She¡¯d remain free until she found a way out of the family and on her own.


    But, no! She¡¯d gone and saved the other brother instead. The one who already had a track record for being a bad brother.


    A scary, bad brother.


    Crap!


    Just crap!


    She groaned and wriggled her way under the covers, pulling them over her head.


    What was she supposed to do now?!


    ***


    While Em recovered from overusing her mana, the rest of the manor was unexpectedly busy.


    The new Baron had made a decision that turned everything on its head.


    Most of the staff cleaned and closed up rooms. Putting sheets over furniture. Packing some things up and putting them in the attic. Other things they prepared to be sent to the Baron¡¯s new March lands.


    And sorting through goods that would spoil if not taken by them or sold.


    All while waiting for recommendation letters, news of alternative employment, and severance pays.


    The only relief to this sudden turn of events was the reception food.


    Since the guests never got to enjoy it, the staff got their hands on treats they otherwise wouldn¡¯t dare touch.


    Em was unaware of most of this activity as she slept for nearly three days. Waking only to eat and talk to Tracy.


    She noticed Tracy looked stressed but didn¡¯t dig.


    Even if she could stay awake for long, she had her own problems.


    Prince kept coming back to her dreams the whole time. Unlike the time skips from before, he remained about fifteen and with the injuries from the other night. Recovering from his mess like she was recovering from her¡¯s.


    On the second day, she started singing modern pop songs to him. He couldn¡¯t hear her, of course, but she imagined he seemed a lot calmer when she sang.


    The fourth morning, though, she finally felt like she could get out of bed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t I have to wear black again?¡± she asked. Confused when Tracy brought out the yellow dress after her bath.


    Tracy hesitated.


    ¡°The master ordered that there¡¯d be no mourning for-¡± She stumbled. Her orders were to show no respect for the other young master, but she didn¡¯t know what else to call him.


    ¡°But what about the death spirits?¡±


    Tracy shrugged. Then put the pile of clothes she¡¯d been carrying on a chair before helping Em into her chemise.


    ¡°He¡¯s having priests come by tomorrow to put up mourning wreaths. Then he¡¯ll return in a year to complete the ceremony. Or send someone in his stead if he can¡¯t come.¡±


    Em didn¡¯t think it was a good sign that no one suggested she do it.


    Would she still be part of the family by then? Flint may not sell her off to the Crown Prince (soon to be Emperor) or the pedophile Marquis, but...


    She shivered.


    About a half hour later, when she was dressed and her hair done, she left her room for the first time.


    And didn¡¯t miss the first set of dust cloths in the main hallway. Covering paintings and other ornaments on pedestals.


    Tracy had to leave again to help the others, so Em wandered around. Her mouth falling more and more open in distress the more she saw.


    Then she closed her lips tightly.


    That¡¯s it! She had to know what was going on.


    She straightened her shoulders and marched up to the office.


    Three men came out, and another went in just as she reached the hallway. She vaguely recognized them as being vessels of the barony. None of them were nobles (at least, not by title), but all of them worked for the house in one way or another.


    Since the door was open, she marched in and folded her arms. Waiting in line while the man in front of her spoke with her brother.


    Flint saw her. She knew he did. But he continued talking about, what was it? Rental agreements?


    As she waited, she bounced on her toes. Her stomach twisting with nerves as she looked around. She noticed another man standing on the far right wall. Hands behind his back, standing straight, purple hair pulled out of his face.


    A knight, she realized. Recognizing the cut of his uniform, though she didn¡¯t know the insignia.


    When their eyes met, he surprised her by smiling warmly and bowing his head in a respectful gesture.


    Finally, the current person talking to Flint ended the conversation. Looking thrilled with the results of the interview as he strode from the room. (He should be happy, Em thought. He¡¯d just gotten all the rental agreements cut down to half for the next two years.)


    He did pause, though, upon seeing Em. Also giving her a small head bow before disappearing through the door.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    She turned back to her brother. He stood up and leaned on the desk, eyebrow raised.


    There was no use beating around the bush.


    ¡°I want to know where I¡¯m going.¡±


    She raised her chin defiantly, though her knees knocked. What was so different between Felix and Flint?! She¡¯d faced Felix with no fear. But now, all she wanted to do was dash away.


    When Flint didn¡¯t answer right away, she plowed on.


    ¡°I know I¡¯m going somewhere. Unless you¡¯re going to only keep my room and the kitchen open.¡± She paused. Struck by a horrible thought. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t leave me here without food, right?!¡±

 Ep. 11 - Poor Prince

    The knight in the corner snorted a laugh.


    Her brother glared at the knight. In response, the knight covered his mouth with the back of his hand and struggled to control another burst of laughter.


    ¡°Emmaline,¡± said Flint. ¡°Why don¡¯t you take a seat while we talk about this?¡±


    ¡°I can stand just fine.¡± She crossed her arms. It wasn¡¯t completely a lie. She was afraid she wouldn¡¯t be able to get back up if she sat. ¡°Who am I marrying? I know you didn¡¯t like the old Marquis, but there are plenty of of nobles who¡¯d take his place.¡±


    The knight choked again.


    ¡°Get out!¡± Flint snarled at him.


    The knight quickly bowed and left the room. Closing the door behind him.


    Flint broke the silence by sighing and pressing the back of his fist to his forehead. Then he rounded the desk and lowered himself to a knee in front of Em.


    She squirmed.


    Wanting to move back but not daring to. She couldn¡¯t give him even an inch of space if she wanted to keep the upper hand here!


    Not that she was entirely certain she had the upper hand.


    And¡­ more silence.


    Flint tightened and relaxed a fist on his knee several times. Pressing his lips firmer and firmer together.


    Scary.


    ¡°Are you going to tell me or do I have to find someone else to?¡± Tears welled up. Dang it! Why was she such a crybaby in her dreams?! She¡¯d stopped crying years ago, when she realized how stressed it made Maddie. ¡°I already know I¡¯m a burden and that¡¯s why you want to get rid of me, so you can skip that part. I just want to know where I¡¯m going.¡±


    ¡°Damn it!¡±


    She flinched as Flint abruptly slammed a fist into his own knee.


    Unconsciously, she lost her composure and took a step back. Shrinking away from the big, scary man.


    ¡°I have no experience with children.¡±


    That was unexpected enough that Em stopped inching away to stare at him. Momentarily forgetting her tears.


    ¡°I was advised to be¡­ sensitive.¡±


    So?, thought Em with growing confusion. She stared blankly at him. Which seemed to agitate him further, and he decided the blunt approach was better than wondering what the hell to say that would be ¡®sensitive¡¯.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be going to Silver Vale with me.¡±


    Em¡¯s mouth fell open.


    ¡°Silver Vale? What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s that,¡± he corrected. ¡°It¡¯s my March. Or, soon will be my March. The official appointment isn¡¯t for two more months, but I have a lot to do to make it presentable for the Crown Prince¡¯s visit.¡±


    ¡°I still don¡¯t know where it is.¡±


    A few minutes later, she found herself sitting in her father¡¯s old chair with a map spread out on the desk. Patiently, the big man pointed at various places on the map. The Empire, where the border now extended into the old Lycanthrope kingdom of Wyngarde, and Silver Vale.


    Silver Vale was a March along Wyngarde¡¯s northernmost border.


    ¡°Won¡¯t the land be filled with angry lycans?¡± asked Em anxiously.


    A muscle jumped in his jaw and she saw his eyes darken with anger as he looked away.


    ¡°There are a few left, but most of them have been moved to different parts of the Empire. Either as slaves or as resettled refugees. The Crown Prince has been sending people to replace them and work the land.¡±


    Poor Prince, thought Em sadly as she looked back at the map.


    His home had been completely torn apart and his people scattered.


    ¡°Do you feel sad for them?¡±


    Surprised to be called out, she looked up at Flint¡¯s face. Which had¡­ softened somehow with the question.


    ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to lose my home,¡± she told him. He raised an eyebrow. Oops, she couldn¡¯t tell him about being in an endless coma and her impending death. Well, maybe she could, but she didn¡¯t want this dream to end in a psyche ward. ¡°Everyone leaving me counts.¡±


    Flint closed his eyes and took a deep breath.


    Awkwardly, he put a hand on her shoulder, grunted, and went to work folding the map to put it away.


    ¡°Why am I going to Silver Vale with you?¡±


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Because I have no one to leave you with.¡± Then, under his breath, he muttered, ¡°No one I trust, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯re not going to marry me off?¡± she pressed. She had to be sure.


    ¡°Why the hell would I marry off a child?¡±


    ¡°Felix was going to.¡±


    Angrily, Flint yanked open a drawer in the cupboard to put the map away. ¡°Felix was a greedy idiot who wouldn¡¯t do an honest day¡¯s work if I held a knife to his throat.¡±


    Em laughed. And Flint stared at her, hand on the open drawer.


    What was so funny about that?


    Taking a deep breath, Flint controlled his anger enough to not slam the drawer.


    ¡°Besides, there are too many people who would take advantage of you. I can¡¯t trust just anyone with your safety.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Instead of answering, Flint strolled across the room and opened the door.


    ¡°Now that I¡¯ve answered your question, I have more work to do before we leave. And you need to oversee your packing. Pack only one trunk for the initial journey. Everything else we¡¯ll ship later, so make sure your maid knows what things you want to be sent.¡±


    There was no arguing with that tone, so Em once again found herself standing outside the office.


    This wall was becoming too familiar.


    As she trudged back to her room, her mind raced with the one question he wouldn¡¯t answer.


    Was he¡­?


    Was the openly horrible brother trying to protect her?


    ***


    Crown Princess Madeline Dulce.


    It was ridiculous to call her ¡®Crown Princess¡¯ yet. She was still seven months away from the dreaded wedding, after all. Shouldn¡¯t she be called by such a lofty title after the knot was tied?


    She suspected it was her fiance¡¯s doing.


    If the Crown Prince referred to his soon-to-be bride by the title, who dared disagree?


    What was even worse was this damn boring tea party! Don¡¯t these women have better things to do than gossiping like a bunch of crippled hags over the washing?


    No, no they didn¡¯t.


    The ones hand-picked for her to associate with were mostly idiots who knew little beyond the end of an embroidery needle. Oh, and what affair the most eligible man in the Empire was involved in.


    It was nauseating.


    So in protest, Madeline Dulce came to this tea party dressed like a glamourized version of a mercenary and sat at a table with the silliest of the women. Just so she could at least make fun of them in her mind as she slouched in her seat and purposefully held her teacup wrong.


    Most of the women held her in too much contempt to be seriously nervous about the presence of ¡®the Crown Princess¡¯. With a rare exception here and there.


    That was fine.


    She wasn¡¯t here to intimidate them, anyway. She had more serious business to do, but she had to endure this damn tea party first.


    ¡°Did you hear?¡±


    The woman, Countess Penelope, sat forward with sparkling eyes. Or was it Countess Terrisa? Madeline got them mixed up and didn¡¯t feel a need to correct herself. (Because their annoyance at her was amusing.)


    Right now the other woman was purposefully pretending Madeline wasn¡¯t there. By skimming her eyes around the table and ridiculously looking up and over Madeline¡¯s chair instead of looking at her.


    ¡°Hear?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± probably-Penelope went on eagerly. ¡°It¡¯s about Baron Grimshaw!¡±


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t the Baron¡¯s memorial last week? Do you mean him or Flint Grimshaw?¡±


    For once, Madeline¡¯s ears pricked at the conversation. She usually listened anyway (there wasn¡¯t much else to do), but she knew that name.


    And that man.


    Her heart fluttered, and she had to take a deep breath to calm it.


    ¡°The new Baron, Flint.¡± Penelope clapped her hands, eyes widened in horror. ¡°There was a duel at the memorial!¡±


    Exclamations ran around the table, and Madeline took a sip of her tea. Heart racing but for other reasons.


    ¡°What happened?!¡±


    As Penelope went into all the details, Madeline¡¯s hand shook and she had to put her tea down. Instead, reaching for a cookie to cover the trembling.


    Relief washed over her as Penelope got to the ending.


    Madeline should have guessed the ending. After all, he was being referred to as ¡®the new Baron¡¯.


    The only reason these stupid girls were taking an interest in a mere Baron was because he was soon to be a powerful Marquis¡­


    And because he was handsome.


    ¡­ Very handsome.


    She bit into a third cookie and slowly chewed.


    It had not been a waste to give him that charm after all. It had been funny to see the look of consternation on his face when he found out that the Crown Princess had summoned him merely to bestow a trinket in secrecy.


    It was a dangerous move. If her fiance had so much as suspected she might like another man¡­


    She shook her head.


    The Crown Prince may not actually love her, but he was possessive. She wouldn¡¯t risk anyone¡¯s life that way.


    Technically, Flint Grimshaw wasn¡¯t even an essential part of her plans. She could have ignored his existence and still been able to proceed.


    It was just¡­ it was Flint Grimshaw.


    So she¡¯d taken a chance.


    She¡¯d done it in the name of gratitude, and that was all. Grimshaw had watched her back during her mercenary days and deserved a reward.


    She shuddered remembering how the Crown Prince had cornered her afterward.


    Thiago Cyrin, Crown Prince of the Cyrin Empire. Respected, feared, and monstrous.


    As though he¡¯d been waiting for the interview to end, he¡¯d stalked into her sitting room the instant Grimshaw left and¡­ She shuddered.


    Not wanting to remember what she¡¯d had to do to appease his anger.


    Until her personal nightmare was over, she couldn¡¯t hope for even friendship from someone like Flint Grimshaw.


    Much less what she actually wanted.


    She¡¯d lost track of the conversation as her thoughts wandered and was brought back with a start when she realized they were all staring at her. Even Penelope.


    ¡°What?¡±

 Ep. 12 - That Is War

    ¡°You knew the Baron before, right?¡±


    The youngest member of the table asked this. One of the rare few who still saw Madeline as someone too lofty to talk to without squeaking and sweating.


    It was actually kinda cute.


    ¡°We¡¯ve met, yes.¡±


    ¡°I heard you saw him battle, Princess,¡± the girl went on eagerly. ¡°Was he just as handsome as in his portraits? He must¡¯ve been dashing wielding his sword!¡±


    Madeline frowned and picked up her teacup. Careful to cup it in her palm at the base instead of by the handle. She sipped it and watched the women, from oldest to youngest, wince at her improper etiquette.


    Then she put the cup down with a clunk.


    ¡°There¡¯s something I don¡¯t understand,¡± she said icily.


    ¡°Wh-what?¡± squeaked youngest.


    Madeline leaned forward. ¡°Are all the women in this Empire some sort of blood-lusting fiends?¡±


    ¡°Excuse me!¡± Penelope jumped to her feet. Outraged by this upstart woman, who was Crown Princess in name only, defaming them.


    Madeline didn¡¯t flinch. Glaring at the woman until Penelope faltered and slowly sat down, shoulders unconsciously hunching under Madeline¡¯s harsh glare.


    ¡°All of you seem to think the battlefield is some sort of playground for children. Where a man can flex is muscles and pose like he would for a portrait.¡±


    Youngest flushed, opened her mouth, and closed it again as she looked around in confusion at the other women.


    The others only looked angry.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that what it is?¡± asked the oldest woman, Marchioness Elantra. ¡°A place for men to gain power and glory they then pass down to their children?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Madeline said it as harshly and firmly as she could. ¡°It¡¯s a place where people suffer, bleed, and die. It smells like a rotting butcher farm and an outhouse. It¡¯s filled with the screams and the sobs of the wounded and dying. Death orbs are everywhere, turning food rancid and making even the healthy sick.¡±


    Madeline looked at Youngest. Who was fidgeting at looking back with wide, sincere eyes.


    ¡°As miserable as the battlefield is, it¡¯s even worse when you leave it. Telling your colleague¡¯s friends and family that they died, but not telling them how because it would make them throw up. Nightmares follow you, sometimes so bad you can no longer tell if you¡¯re on the battlefield or in your own living room. Sometimes you must be committed to the Temple just so you don¡¯t endanger normal people.¡±


    Everyone was growing quiet now. Even people sitting at the other two ables were straining to listen. About twenty women twisted in their seats and leaned toward her.


    Even more servants were edging closer.


    ¡°The wounded often come back to live lives where they can no longer do the things they used to love because they¡¯re missing limbs. Some of them come back only to lose their loved ones because they can no longer cope with life, their insides mashed and destroyed by the horror they¡¯ve witnessed. Turning them into human monsters.¡±


    She lowered her voice and noticed nearly everyone lean in more to hear.


    ¡°Many come back victorious only to end their own lives out of shear despair. That, ladies, is what war is. War should never be your first answer and should never be idolized. War should only be used as a necessary tool to protect the lives of yourselves and your loved ones. Not to aggrandize yourself.¡±


    Madeline was done with this conversation.


    Not just this conversation, but with this petty group of silly aristocrats who didn¡¯t even know what backbreaking work was.


    Much less know what horrors could be in the world¡­ and still found things to hope for.


    She pushed away from the table. Her chair scraping on the garden cobblestones and against her nerves.


    No one said anything about her rude departure.


    In fact, no one who¡¯d been listening to her passionate speech said anything at all.


    She left the suddenly silent gathering and stomped deeper into the garden. As soon as she was out of sight, she stopped and covered her face with both hands.


    Struggling against her boiling emotions.


    Rage, despair¡­ grief.


    Her contact couldn¡¯t come to her directly. It was too much of a risk that Thiago would notice.


    Instead, while she was suffering at the party, he¡¯d left her the message in her carriage.


    As soon as the door closed and she pulled down the curtains, she could leisurely find where he¡¯d stuck the package and pull it onto her lap for inspection.


    First, the letter.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    My lady, it started. She smiled. Grimly satisfied with being addressed correctly.


    Business with the mine has been going well. We¡¯ve expanded operations successfully and expect to see an increase in profit upwards of 20%.


    The package contains the newest model of the item you commissioned, though, sadly we still haven¡¯t found a mana stone and rune combination to make it work for non-magic users. We just found a lightning affinity mage who is willing to work with us and we¡¯re hopeful they¡¯ll have more success than fire did.


    As for the item you wished us to find, we located it three weeks ago. But as we were unable to get your direct orders, we simply watched. It was sold to a third party and there are rumors of it soon being used as a spear. Do you wish us to interfere?


    Madeline paused and looked at the window.


    All there was to see was the closed curtain, but she wasn¡¯t really seeing it, anyway.


    Did she want them to interfere?


    No.


    She needed to keep that item as safe as possible. Unlike Flint Grimshaw, who could be ignored, this item was so essential to her plan that if she lost it¡­


    She¡¯d lose completely.


    It was relatively safe as long as she didn¡¯t draw attention to it. The current owner using it as a spear, though¡­ that made her nervous.


    In some ways, it would be better taken care of than if it were put in a corner and used by the unskilled.


    But there was always the chance of it breaking¡­


    It gave her a headache.


    She¡¯d send word to just keep an eye on it for now. Interfere only if it might be destroyed.


    And not to interfere without her orders if there was plenty of time to do so.


    But, first, she needed to establish a new communication link.


    Ever since Thiago¡¯s people had caught her messenger birds, it had been difficult to contact her people. Fortunately, Thiago didn¡¯t seem to know the meaning behind the birds or the messages she¡¯d sent.


    It was the only grace the damn gods of this world had given her.


    With a sigh, she opened a compartment and pulled out a fountain pen and writing tablet. Then painstakingly wrote out a cryptic message.


    She threw the paper out the window at just the right place on the route back to the Palace.


    A bum casually picked it up and wandered down the street.


    It would take several days but her right-hand man would get the message. And get to work.


    Meanwhile, she destroyed the other message with a burst of sorcery flames, then carefully unwrapped the package.


    What lay on her lap was an L shaped contraption. One end was a handle and the other a tube.


    She picked it up and aimed it at the opposite wall of the carriage. Sighting down the tube and enjoying the feel of it in her hands.


    It wasn¡¯t nearly as sophisticated as she would have liked, but it was much better than the other prototypes.


    She smiled in grim satisfaction.


    Imagining these guns in the hands of her friends.


    ***


    ¡°You are all Princes of Wyngarde.¡±


    So far, the dreams had been chronological. She¡¯d watched a few time skips and then Prince steadily became just one age. Fifteen.


    This time, though, it went backward.


    She stood in a training arena. The kind of place a page or a squire trained to become knights. Or where knights keep their skills sharp. The Grimshaw estate also had this kind of training ground.


    Except it was much smaller.


    And only a few feet in front of her, was a lineup.


    Boys from ten to nineteen were standing shoulder to shoulder. All them silver haired and ruby-eyed. She easily spotted her prince in the line.


    The youngest, smallest, and weakest of the six boys.


    ¡°Whether you become king, counselor, or knight, it is your duty to protect your country and your people. Your life will be a series of good and bad events and circumstances. You will be asked to do things you don¡¯t enjoy doing. And you will be asked to do things you love.¡±


    The man lecturing them paced slowly down the line. Meeting each boy¡¯s eye with a firm gaze.


    As though he was trying to pour power into them (or maybe intimidate them) with eye contact alone.


    He was a tall man, taller than the oldest boy, with flaming red hair. But the same ruby eyes as the boys, making Em think they were somehow related.


    ¡°You¡¯ll find that most people believe that the good times are what you want all the time. Because that is when you can shine. That is when it¡¯s easiest to be happiest. That is when you can enjoy yourself.


    ¡°But the good times are only useful to you as a time to prepare for the bad times.


    ¡°It is the bad times that will test your character strength. The bad times are when you, and everyone around you, will know if you are men of honor or cowards.


    ¡°It is the bad times that tell you how far you can trust yourself. And how much more work you must do in the good times to stretch yourself further.¡±


    The man turned around to go back up the line, starting at the eldest boy.


    He met the boy¡¯s eye and put a hand on his shoulder.


    ¡°It is during the good times that you decide what you must stand for. And the bad times when you must courageously stand.¡±


    He moved down to the next boy.


    ¡°The good times you will relax. So when the bad times come you¡¯ll be well rested and ready.¡±


    The next boy.


    ¡°The good times you will get to know and serve your people, friends, and family. And whenever possible, make your enemies into your friends. So in the bad times your bonds will hold you up and hold you together.¡±


    Down the line, each of them receiving a message.


    Patience and humility, truth¡­


    Until he stood before Prince.


    The boy stood up straighter, waiting for his message, and wasn¡¯t surprised at all when the man lowered himself to his knee to look the boy in the eye.


    ¡°And in every time, good and bad, it is always your choice who you will be. You choose your identity. And once you have chosen, you must remind yourself constantly who you are.¡±


    Without getting up, the man looked down the line.


    ¡°Who are you!?¡±


    ¡°Princes of Wyngarde!¡± the boys shouted in chorus.


    When Em opened her eyes, she expected to find herself in the Temple. Perhaps dozing against Tracy¡¯s shoulder. Which would get her a scolding for falling asleep during the sermon.


    Or if she was really lucky, she¡¯d wake up in the hospital.

 Ep. 13 - Surprise!

    Instead, she was in a cell-like little room with a window the size of a piece of paper high on the wall. In what little light came in from the window, Prince started awake and looked around wildly to figure out what had woken him.


    Was I¡­ just in his dream?, Em wondered as she watched.


    She caught onto what happened about three seconds before he did.


    The servant who¡¯d so rudely thrown a pile of clothes in Prince¡¯s face, loomed over the boy with a sneer.


    ¡°The Mistress wants you in an hour,¡± he told the boy coldly. ¡°Sit up and let me see your back.¡±


    Slowly, Prince complied.


    He kept his jaw tightly clenched as he gingerly turned on the bed and picked up the pile of clothes.


    The servant grunted and began muttering under his breath as he pulled out a silver ointment container.


    ¡°This is stupid. First she whips the creature nearly to death, then she wants this. Is she trying to kill it? What a waste of money to kill your new pet right away.¡±


    Em clenched her fists.


    Him not it, she corrected furiously as the man opened the little container. Stop treating Prince like he¡¯s a bug!


    ¡°Hold still,¡± the servant snapped.


    It took only a second of rubbing in the ointment for Prince to gasp. His flesh flinched under the man¡¯s touch and he instinctively tried to pull away.


    ¡°I said don¡¯t move! Don¡¯t make me pin you, you little brat!¡±


    What the heck?!


    Em moved to get a closer look.


    It wasn¡¯t as thorough or as quick as a mage¡¯s infusion, but the ointment was making Prince¡¯s scabby wounds close up sluggishly. Em looked at the ointment thoughtfully.


    It must¡¯ve been some sort of healing cream.


    By the time the servant was satisfied that Prince¡¯s wounds were closed up and out of danger of opening, Prince was hunched over and hugging the clothes.


    Trembling involuntarily.


    ¡°Get up, rinse off, and get dressed.¡± The servant pocketed the ointment. ¡°Don¡¯t keep the Mistress waiting.¡±


    The door slammed.


    Em glared at it. Wishing she could throw something.


    Then she heard the sniffles.


    For an instant, all she could do was watch Prince sniffle and rock. Clutching the pile of clothes like it was a teddy bear.


    At the end of the day, Prince was still just a boy. At fifteen, he was rapidly growing into a man. But, still¡­


    If she¡¯d just been Emmaline, she wouldn¡¯t have been able to fully empathize with him. Up to this point, Emmaline had experienced nothing worse than neglect.


    But Em was different.


    Em sat on the edge of the bed and put out a hand she could feel but couldn¡¯t see. Holding it over his head and frustrated she couldn¡¯t actually touch him.


    Em¡­ was different.


    And watching Prince¡¯s quiet suffering brought back memories she¡¯d rather forget. But if she could tell them to Prince, maybe it would have helped? Since this was a dream, maybe she was supposed to comfort herself by comforting him?


    Yes, that sounds like a dream thing to do.


    She told him, quietly, about her mother. And the woman¡¯s boyfriends.


    Mom had her moments. Sometimes she was sweet and loving. Other times Em hid under the bed while waiting for the storm to pass.


    But the boyfriends¡­


    Most of them had ignored Em¡¯s existence. Some¡­ had not.


    In fact, the day Maddie came to get her, Maddie walked in on the newest boyfriend knocking Em into a cupboard. Because Em wouldn¡¯t cooperate with what he was doing.


    She''d just gotten away with her shirt torn and then re-caught as Maddie barged in the back door.


    Maddie flew into a rage.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    If that man had dared called the police, Maddie might have ended up in jail while they sorted out if it was self defense or not. At the very least, he had gone to the hospital with a few broken ribs, a broken nose, and scratches wherever Maddie could dig her fingernails in.


    Em also told Prince about the three years she''d been sick.


    It wasn¡¯t unusual for her to put on a brave face all day¡­ only to cry herself to sleep.


    As she talked, Em kept glancing at Prince¡¯s back.


    There were still some scabbing but most of the sores were finally gone.


    His nerves must be seriously raw, she thought sympathetically as she took her hand off his head and put it on his back.


    I wish I could¡­


    Her thoughts paused.


    Nothing else had worked. But everything she¡¯d tried to do so far had been physical. She couldn¡¯t touch, taste, smell, or even see her own hand.


    Mana wasn¡¯t physical.


    It was like lightning and could affect whatever it touched. But until it touched, it was just energy in the air.


    Why not? After all, she had tried everything else.


    She closed her eyes and pictured a golden thread sinking into the boy¡¯s back. Spreading out like a warm, comforting, blanket¡­


    The boy moved so fast that he¡¯d fallen off the bed and was scooting away on his butt before she got her eyes open.


    What the heck just happened?! Did he really just fall off the bed?


    Bewildered, she watched his face as his eyes whipped around the room.


    ¡°Who¡¯s there? Show yourself!¡±


    ¡°Wait, you felt me?¡± she asked. Delighted. Then frowned as she watched his eyes continue to dart around. ¡°Nope. Still can¡¯t see or hear me.¡±


    She bit her lip then hesitantly held out a hand.


    She¡¯d practiced nothing but the most basic magic. Infusion, where one pulled mana out of themselves and put it into something else. So when she attempted a flame, nothing happened.


    Alright, that wasn¡¯t going to work.


    But, there was nothing in this room that could hold an infusion!


    Except for his body, of course.


    Cautiously, she approached. There was no sign he could see her, so she relaxed and knelt next to him.


    With his back mostly healed, and pressed up to the door, she had to find something else. Something he could see. Though he seemed to sense her mana just fine, she was stubbornly convinced seeing would be important here.


    There was a small scrape on his wrist. That¡¯ll do.


    She touched it, connecting the golden thread.


    He snatched his hand away, and they both watched the scrape completely vanish. Without pain or fuss.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± he breathed. ¡°Are you an angel?¡±


    Me? An angel?


    Em tilted her invisible head and patted his hair.


    That was silly!


    She blinked and was staring at the pulpit of the Temple¡¯s common room. Where today¡¯s priest was droning on and on about some virtue. No, not some virtue. Some vice.


    Pride. And going to hell.


    Em almost snorted aloud. What a difference from the speech the Princes had listened to!


    Then her half awake attention turned to Tracy as the maid gently shook her shoulder again.


    ¡°Miss, wake up.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m awake,¡± Em whispered. Then yawned.


    Tracy nodded and went back to watching the priest.


    Em blinked away the dream and didn¡¯t pay attention to the sermon as she grinned up at the ceiling. Finally! A way to do something in the other dreams! What else can she do?!


    Not much if she didn¡¯t learn more magic manipulation¡­


    The sermon seemed like it would go all day. Em was dozing again by the time the priest finally dismissed everyone and Tracy got up. Then Em held Tracy¡¯s hand as they made their way across the room to the men¡¯s side.


    That was a weird difference between the two worlds. (Well, one of the weird differences, anyway.) When people went to ¡®church¡¯, men and women sat on different sides of the room.


    If they sat in the same room.


    Some gods forbade specific genders to enter their courts at all.


    Because of Emmaline¡¯s memories, none of what they¡¯d done today surprised Em. Even Felix had gone to church once a month. Which was the minimum requirement before people started whispering that you might not be devout and become wary of you.


    It was funny because Em had rarely gone to any kind of church in her awake life.


    ¡­ Though when death became a certain thing, she¡¯d gone more often¡­


    It was also funny because like in real life, most of the people here were just hot air hypocrites about it.


    The only differences between here and there is the gods here seem to be more active. At least you knew if someone had divine power or not. And you could tell when someone was possessed or if a demon attacked you.


    Not that Emmaline had ever seen a demon, but she was sure Flint had fought many of them.


    Flint was reading something when Em and Tracy joined him.


    Tracy waited for him to look up before bowing, but otherwise didn¡¯t interrupt him.


    He grunted, folded the letter, and slid out of his pew. With only a wave for them to follow, he strode down the aisle and out the back door. Em watched with interest as people instinctively got out of his way and he didn¡¯t spare them even a glance.


    The Temple complex was vast.


    There were twelve gods in total and each one had their own court within the complex. All but one of them allowed visitors and all of them had multiple buildings for different functions. Including dormitories and other residences for their priests, priestesses, and paladins.


    And once you got past the front gate, all of them required you to walk to wherever you were going.


    Em was huffing by the time they reached the front gate and Flint cast a grim look on her.


    ¡°Once we reach Silver Vale, you¡¯ll need to start physical training.¡±

 Ep. 14 - What Women Are Allowed

    ¡°Physical¡­ training?¡± she puffed.


    ¡°Your lungs are weak and so is your body,¡± her brother said briskly. ¡°It isn¡¯t good for your health.¡±


    Em frowned and tilted her head.


    She didn¡¯t mind the idea of strengthening her body. In fact, now that she could run around without pain or exhaustion, she wanted to do more.


    Much more.


    It just surprised her that Flint suggested it.


    The highest physical exertion women were expected to do in this world was keep house and have babies. Of course, women could do other things. Like become soldiers and knights.


    But it wasn¡¯t expected or encouraged.


    In fact, among the nobility, it was considered a source of shame to have a woman in the family who did more than expected.


    Even learning to read was treated weird.


    A little girl would learn, but then was expected to pretend she did very little of it. Basically, just enough to send and read invitations. Books of actual knowledge was practically forbidden after a certain age and outside specific subjects.


    Even if the girl wanted to read a romance novel! Or a fairy tale!


    For example, such books was bought in secrecy (literally at the back of bookstores in ¡®special¡¯ rooms). And everyone pretended they didn¡¯t know where it came from if someone noticed it on the library shelf.


    It was ridiculous.


    The only exception for ¡®acceptable woman roles¡¯ was sorcery.


    Suddenly, none of the rules applied because you are one of the rare people who could master all the elements and manipulate complex runes.


    All of which required a high education for mastery.


    Em thought through all of this while Flint handed her into the carriage. Normally he would have gotten in before Tracy, since Tracy was a servant, but he took a moment to talk to the driver before getting in. Which left time for Tracy to get in first.


    ¡°What sort of physical training?¡±


    Flint settled into his seat, crossed his arms, and looked out the window. ¡°Running.¡±


    Em waited, but he said nothing more. The carriage started moving.


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    ¡°What else is there?¡±


    For a moment, Em was disappointed. So Flint wasn¡¯t progressive after all. Maybe he didn¡¯t have any female knights. Or because Em''s status as a lady made him forget that there could just possibly be other options.


    ¡°I could learn more dancing.¡± That would be socially acceptable and she liked to dance. But, just to press her luck, she added, ¡°Or swordplay.¡±


    Both adults whipped their heads in her direction.


    ¡°Swordplay?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous, Miss Emmaline.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Em pressed. ¡°I¡¯m healthy enough for it, right, Brother?¡±


    Flint started, which she thought was interesting. Emmaline had never known what to call her brother and had always avoided calling him anything if she could help it.


    It was Em who chose something and now she was seeing the results.


    Did he hate it?


    She waited while he visibly regained composure.


    ¡°You want to learn swordplay, Emmaline?¡±


    It wasn¡¯t that she was particularly interested in learning swordplay. But she knew how dangerous this world was going to get soon. It wouldn¡¯t hurt to know how to defend herself.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said. Firmly.


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    He grunted and went back to looking out the window. ¡°I¡¯ll arrange it, then.¡±


    Em¡¯s mouth fell open in shock and delight.


    He agreed!


    ¡°My lord,¡± Tracy protested. ¡°That could be detrimental for her future.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡±


    Tracy fidgeted. Suddenly realizing she was talking back to her superior. Looking down at her lap, she spoke as quietly and respectfully as she could. Without making herself inaudible.


    ¡°When she comes of age, the nobility will be critical of her background if it includes unladylike behavior. She¡¯ll have difficulty finding a husband.¡±


    ¡°Any man unwilling to accept her as is, isn¡¯t worth her notice.¡±


    Em had just regained control of her mouth. Now it fell open again.


    Did he really just say that?!


    Suddenly, she was dead certain she was going to develop a dangerous case of hero worship for this brother of her¡¯s. She beamed, jumped to her feet, and threw her arms around him.


    ¡°Thank you!¡±


    Flint froze. Then, with a grunt, he pushed her back onto her seat.


    Gently.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t stand in a moving carriage, Emmaline. Its dangerous.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    Em hummed to herself as she followed Flint¡¯s example and looked out the window.


    Swordplay!


    And probably more dancing. She couldn¡¯t wait! Was this body coordinated? Or would it have two left feet? Even if she had to work extra hard to gain some coordination, it would still be worth it to move around and-


    Her thoughts cut off, and she sobered.


    After experiencing all this freedom, how could she go back?


    And how could she resign herself to dying all over again?


    For a moment¡­ for just that short moment¡­ she¡¯d forgotten that she wasn¡¯t really Emmaline Grimshaw. And that sometime, she¡¯d eventually wake up.


    She chewed on her lip, not seeing the sights outside the window for a good twenty minutes. When she did, she blinked in confusion, then rose halfway out of her seat to get a better look.


    ¡°Where are we going? I don¡¯t recognize anything.¡±


    ¡°Sit down, Emmaline.¡±


    She sat down. ¡°But where-?¡±


    ¡°To the Palace.¡±


    Em stared at him, bewildered. ¡°The Palace? Why?¡±


    A muscle tightened in Flint¡¯s jaw, and his eyes flashed. ¡°Because,¡± he said, his voice a growl, ¡°we had an idiot for a brother.¡±


    The Palace.


    Em¡¯s stomach twisted and sunk.


    That was the last place she wanted to go!


    Suddenly terrified that all of Flint¡¯s promises were just to keep her happy, she looked apprehensively at him.


    He knew her secret. Was he making excuses to hide his real intentions? Was she being sold to the Crown Prince right now? Bile rose up her throat, and she had to swallow to get it down.


    If that¡¯s what was going on, what could she do about it? Run away? Be a beggar on the streets?


    Even if she did that, it wouldn¡¯t take long for them to find her. Then they¡¯d lock her up.


    Oh, gods! What was she going to do?!


    Don¡¯t panic, Em, we don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on yet. Don¡¯t assume anything, she told herself firmly. Her insides didn¡¯t obey, but she could stay in her seat. Instead of, say, trying to jump out of a moving carriage.


    The Palace¡­ was breathtaking.


    And huge!


    If the Temple complex was vast, this place was bigger. There were roads and trails that branched in multiple directions and she had vague memories of being told there were actually thirty ¡®palaces¡¯ on the property.


    But this was the main one. Where the Emperor conducted his ¡®ruling world¡¯ business.


    She let Flint hand her out of the carriage. Then gaped at the architectural extravagances of the building while her brother talked to a servant.


    ¡°Close your mouth, Emmaline.¡±


    Flint put a hand on her shoulder to get her walking. Then strode boldly ahead with the servant leading them.


    Tracy stayed behind.


    Em hurried to catch up and practically had to jog the rest of the way. It wasn¡¯t until she was huffing that Flint realized what was going on and slowed down.


    Compared to her dingy apartment in real life, the baron¡¯s manor had been magnificent. But the Palace made even the baron¡¯s manor seem shabby. Everywhere she looked were paintings in ornate frames, flower vases that had delicate and wonderful designs, carpet runners in vibrant colors, tapestries, statues, gold plated moldings¡­


    It was both beautiful and intimidating.


    Was this why rich people decorated as extravagantly as they could? To make people realize just where they fall on the food chain in relation to them?


    The servant led them to an inner room and knocked on the door. Which was then opened by another servant.


    ¡°Baron Grimshaw and his sister are here.¡±


    The second servant nodded and stood back, bowing them in.


    If Em were a little braver, and surer of Flint, she might have grabbed his hand as soon as they entered the sitting room. She would have if it had been Maddie with her instead.


    If you didn¡¯t count the servants (there were a good handful standing next to tea carts or along the walls), there were only two occupants of the room. One of them was an old, heavyset man with a monocle. Em guessed him to be around sixty, maybe seventy.


    The other one¡­


    Even if she hadn¡¯t had Emmaline¡¯s memories of seeing this man¡¯s portrait, she would have recognized him without it.


    Blonde hair streaked with white silver, icy blue eyes, and a scar shaped like three small claw marks under his right eye. His brother¡¯s elemental bird had torn his cheek when he was twelve, Em remembered.


    Em knew that because you tend to learn a lot about the protagonist of any story.

 Ep. 15 - The Bride Price

    Instinctively, she stepped closer to Flint. Even if she couldn¡¯t grab his hand, he was more comforting than standing alone.


    Neither of the two men stood.


    Flint bowed respectfully. ¡°Your Highness. And Marquis Harrow.¡±


    Thiago smiled warmly.


    ¡°You¡¯re prompt as always, Baron. And you must be Lady Emmaline.¡±


    Em was trying to hide behind Flint without appearing to do so. At being addressed, she flinched and reluctantly curtsied. But said nothing.


    The Prince dismissed her and looked back at Flint.


    ¡°You may sit. Both of you.¡±


    Prince Thiago waved to the two remaining seats not sharing his settee. One was a chair and the other was on the other end of the Marquis¡¯s settee.


    Flint gave the two seats a quick glance. Then surprised Em by steering her to the single chair and taking the settee seat himself. It seemed too small for the two men and she, like everyone else, had assumed she¡¯d be seated there.


    She was glad for Flint¡¯s strange decision.


    Sitting next to a strange man, and that man sitting between her and Flint, would have been too uncomfortable. Among all the other uncomfortable things already going on.


    The old man gave Em a smile and pushed a plate of cookies toward her while servants served her and Flint tea.


    For once, she was not interested in cookies.


    She¡¯d been trying to avoid the man to her left. How had she ended up here?!


    Her hands shook as she clutched the tea and murmured a, ¡°Thank you,¡± to the maid who gave it to her.


    The awkward silence continued for a time as the Prince sipped from his cup. Deliberately making his visitors sweat.


    None of them could start the conversation until he did. In any other setting, even a viscount could start a conversation. But not when royalty was present.


    What a roach!


    How long was he going to make them sit in silence?


    Em frowned at her tea and took a tiny sip. Her eyebrows shot up. She didn¡¯t know what they put in there, but it was more like drinking honeyed milk than tea.


    Maybe that¡¯s what it was?


    ¡°Baron Grimshaw,¡± the Prince suddenly drawled. He deliberately put his cup down on the coffee table with a clink. ¡°I assume you read my missive fully.¡±


    ¡°I did. And as I explained before, I had no part in what transpired. Was there something missing from my dismissal request?¡±


    Dismissal? Em looked at her brother in confusion.


    Was he asking to leave the army?


    He didn¡¯t spare her a glance. Keeping his gaze fixed unreadably on the Crown Prince.


    ¡°Not officially. All the documents were in order, the required signatures present and confirmed, the witnesses provided.¡±


    Thiago paused. Smiling.


    What was he waiting for?


    Flint¡¯s nostrils flared, the only sign of his agitation. ¡°But-?¡±


    ¡°Marquis Harrow tells me he¡¯s already paid the bridal price. This, too, needs to be addressed.¡±


    Bridal price?


    Em flinched and looked at Flint anxiously.


    There was a distinct difference between a bridal price and a dowry.


    A dowry was what a bride brought with her to the marriage and was her insurance if, for any reason, the marriage failed. Or if her husband was no longer in a position to care for her.


    The bride price, though, was what the groom paid for the privilege of a betrothal. It was his insurance that the bride would not be swept up by another lover and married elsewhere. Once it was paid, they were engaged. With or without other documentation.


    Traditionally, the bride price was supposed to be added to the dowry after the marriage ceremony was completed.


    But, what usually happened was the bride¡¯s family kept it for themselves.


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    The penalty for breaking the rules after the bride price was paid could be steep.


    Em¡¯s hands shook, and she had to put down her cup to avoid spilling it.


    After what felt like a very long silence (but was probably only about a minute), Flint stirred and turned his head toward the waiting old man.


    ¡°I found no record of such a transaction. How much was the bride price?¡±


    ¡°Fifteen billion zen.¡±


    A muscle jumped in her brother¡¯s jaw, and his eyes flashed.


    ¡°That is a large price for a Baron¡¯s daughter.¡± Flint¡¯s voice was strained with anger.


    Calmly, the Marquis pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and presented it to Flint. Who reluctantly took it and looked it over.


    ¡°As you can see, everything is dated, witnessed, and signed-¡±


    ¡°This is not my signature.¡±


    ¡°Whether or not it¡¯s your signature,¡± the Prince cut in, ¡°does not negate that the price had been exchanged. The only way I can officially cancel the betrothal is if the bride price is returned with its fifty percent penalty.¡±


    The paper in Flint¡¯s hand wrinkled under the pressure of his grip.


    Fifty percent?!


    The barony was nowhere near that prosperous!


    And while Flint was coming into a Marquis title and March lands, it was in the middle of a war-torn country. Where many of the original residents were no longer there and the rest were hostile.


    Em felt like fainting. She glanced at the smug old man sitting to her right, her stomach rolling.


    She might as well resign herself.


    This was the man she was going to be marrying.


    Maybe it won¡¯t be all bad (other than the fact he was a pervert who married children). If she¡¯d had to marry the Crown Prince, he would¡¯ve lived until almost ninety. Outliving her by a good stretch because she''d die of abuse and overusing mana.


    This way, she¡¯d at least be free of all husbands in ten, maybe twenty years.


    And technically, she was mentally seven years older than Emmaline. That would help¡­ sort of¡­


    Her stomach twisted harder.


    Goodbye swordplay. Goodbye Tracy. Goodbye Silver Vale.


    While Em was panicking, Flint was watching the two men with an unblinking, scathing gaze.


    There weren¡¯t many people who could make the Crown Prince sweat. But Flint Grimshaw managed it without making himself obviously disrespectful.


    ¡°Baron Grimshaw,¡± said Thiago. Suddenly irritated. ¡°When can the Marquis expect repayment?¡±


    Flint smiled.


    Which startled Em and the other two men.


    ¡°I can arrange for the documents and the transfer by the end of tomorrow. Is that soon enough?¡±


    ¡°Now, wait a moment!¡± Marquis Harrow jumped to his feet. Looking flustered.


    ¡°Is there a problem, Marquis?¡±


    ¡°Well, I, that is-¡±


    ¡°Surely you would not argue that the child still has to marry you?¡± Flint¡¯s smile turned cold and contemptuous. ¡°Not with all the evidence that Felix acted without my knowledge or consent?¡±


    Apparently her brother was in no mood to humor the old man even an inch.


    ¡°I-¡±


    ¡°And surely you would not refuse the repayment after going through all the trouble to get it? If you refuse, then I insist you make it official so the matter will be permanently dropped.¡±


    The Marquis clenched his fists. Glaring at Flint with open hatred.


    ¡°Or,¡± Flint drawled dryly, ¡°should I suspect underhanded dealings? Did you somehow think you knew about all of my assets and thought you¡¯d have the upper hand in this arrangement?¡±


    Em¡¯s eyes widened.


    She looked between the Crown Prince and the old man.


    Had they conspired this? But why!?


    She was just a baron¡¯s daughter! If they¡¯d known about her gift, cornering Flint and forcing him to give up guardianship would have made sense.


    This did not.


    ¡°Of course not,¡± the Marquis seethed. If a man could spit fire, he would have. ¡°Repayment will be gladly received.¡±


    Flint nodded. Standing up, he bowed to the Crown Prince.


    ¡°If that is all, your Highness, I best return to my estate and begin the paperwork. I had hoped to leave tomorrow morning for Silver Vale, but I¡¯ll delay my departure for three days.¡± He glanced sideways at the Marquis. ¡°To make sure there are no problems with the transfer.¡±


    ¡°Well!¡± The Crown Prince stood up. Composure returned as he held up a hand in farewell. But his eyes were cold. ¡°I¡¯m glad that was resolved so easily. Be sure to send the appropriate confirmations to my secretary.¡±


    ¡°Of course, your Highness.¡±


    As they left the room, Em felt like melting with relief.


    Impulsively, as soon as the door closed behind them, she grabbed Flint around the waist and hugged him.


    ¡°Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!¡±


    Her brother had just been in the same room as the scariest man in the empire and had remained calm throughout the meeting. Yet he looked immediately and thoroughly flustered with what to do about the child clinging to his waist.


    With a grunt, he firmly pushed her off. Unable to look at her as he tried to regain his composure.


    ¡°I was only doing my duty. There¡¯s no need to make such a fuss.¡±


    Still, Em beamed as she walked with him down the corridors and outside.


    As they returned to their carriage, where Tracy had been waiting for them, Em thought back on what happened.


    And decided she¡¯d overreacted in her suspicions.


    There really was no reason for the Prince and the Marquis to have any other motivation than the Marquis¡¯ fetish. He might have even bribed the Prince with political support to get what he wanted.


    That alone was enough to make the Prince act on the Marquis¡¯s behalf.


    Soberly, she watched her brother look out the window again. Arms crossed.


    ¡°They faked it, didn¡¯t they?¡±

 Ep. 16 - Not a Real Nurse

    ¡°What?¡± He turned his attention to her.


    ¡°The bride price. It didn¡¯t happen, did it? They were faking.¡±


    He studied her for a moment and let out an inaudible sigh. ¡°Child, a bit of advice.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Be a little less discerning. Since you can do nothing about it, it¡¯s safer to see nothing. You might survive the politics of court if you keep that in mind.¡±


    Em soberly nodded.


    There was no point in telling him she didn¡¯t expect to ¡®survive¡¯ anyway. A coma could only last for so long, right? Plus, she already knew too much. A dangerous amount of ¡®too much¡¯.


    But she¡¯d be leaving Elyana soon, anyway. If she was lucky, she¡¯d never set foot in the Capital again.


    Child-like, she wriggled around until her head was on Tracy¡¯s lap.


    Despite her nap, she was sleepy again. And she thoroughly enjoyed the feel of Tracy¡¯s fingers lightly brushing her hair as she fell asleep.


    ***


    Beep. Beep. Beep.


    Em didn¡¯t have to open her eyes to recognize the sound. Finally, she thought.


    A hospital do-dad monitor. She didn¡¯t know if it just monitored her heart or some other vital. In any case, she should have been relieved.


    The wait was finally over.


    But for some reason, it made her heart hurt and tears prickle behind her eyelids.


    Wearily, she opened her eyes. Her felt body oddly heavy after all the dream world¡¯s lightness. She couldn¡¯t move¡­ And everything hurt. Everything from her breathing to the lightest touch on her skin.


    A nurse sat by her bed, and Em stared at her for a long moment before groaning.


    ¡°I¡¯m still dreaming,¡± she told the apparition. Resentfully glaring at the woman.


    The woman raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°Why do you say that?¡±


    ¡°Nurses don¡¯t look like they stepped out of a play boy magazine.¡±


    The woman frowned. ¡°You mean nurses shouldn¡¯t be pretty?¡±


    ¡°No. You realize that¡¯s-that''s the lingerie or Halloween costume look, right? You look noth-nothing like a real nurse.¡±


    The woman looked down at her outfit and frowned deeper.


    ¡°I was wondering about that. It didn¡¯t seem very practical in an environment that needs practicality. But the advertisement said ¡®nurse¡¯ so I assumed it was correct.¡±


    Em groaned and closed her eyes. Even her eyeballs hurt.


    ¡°If this is a dream, go away. I don¡¯t feel¡­ well enough to¡­ to deal with it.¡±


    ¡°Your sister is dead.¡±


    Em froze. Then gritted her teeth. ¡°The semi hit my side of the car. And barely clipped¡­ clipped the back¡­ back end. She¡¯s probably just in surgery or something.¡±


    The woman lowered her voice gently. ¡°Your sister is dead, Emmaline Taylor. There is nothing left for you here.¡±


    Em¡¯s bottom lip trembled.


    Why were her dreams being so cruel? First it takes away her resolve to accept death. And now it was taking away her last hope.


    All she¡¯d wanted was for Maddie to have a good life.


    After Em was gone and was no longer a burden holding Maddie back.


    ¡°You are so stubborn. It was to my advantage before. If you¡¯d left this life just one day earlier, than I wouldn¡¯t have been able to make Emmaline Grimshaw possible. Do you know how much work it is to inspire a writer to write something they couldn¡¯t have conceived themselves? Or to twist time and space to bring you back to the beginning? Not to mention the negotiations I had to go through with the gods of other worlds-¡±


    Em wasn¡¯t listening to the woman¡¯s complaining and rambling.


    Maddie. Maddie had to be alive. This was only a dream¡­


    ¡°But now it¡¯s become difficult to maintain the link. Just let go, Emmaline Taylor. There is nothing left here.¡±


    ¡°Go away.¡±


    The woman sighed and plopped forward so she could lean on her elbows next to Em¡¯s arm. Em forced her eyes open and carefully turned her head to look at the woman again.


    ¡°I thought your sister was the stubborn one. But she died without a fuss the instant the car rolled.¡±


    ¡°Why does this matter so much to you?¡±


    The woman smiled. It was an exasperated and pretty smile.


    ¡°I made a promise, little one. Unfortunately, that¡¯s a drawback to being a god. You must fulfill your promises¡­ or do everything in your power to. There is a limit before I can give up. Usually it¡¯s not a big deal, I just didn¡¯t realize my brother also made a promise.¡±


    Then she groaned and looked around.


    ¡°This world is so much simpler. There¡¯s only one god and he never trips over forgotten or unknown factors like your brother¡¯s promises.¡±


    Em laughed.


    Her chest tightened, and the monitor skipped a beep. She wheezed but laughed a second time, anyway.


    It was such an absurd dream!


    ¡°And you weren¡¯t supposed to dream about the boy,¡± the woman continued blithely. ¡°That¡¯s some strange side effect to you still being suspended between bodies. It¡¯s been an advantage to my side, but if this continues the link will be lost and I¡¯ll have to make do with only part of my plan. That would really throw a, what do you say? A wrench in things?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t leave¡­ until I know¡­ Maddie¡¯s-¡±


    Em ran out of breath. And strength. She closed her eyes.


    ¡°I already told you she¡¯s gone.¡±


    ¡°Where? Is she¡­ alright?¡±


    The woman sighed.


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    ¡°You won¡¯t believe me no matter what I tell you. And I can¡¯t show you, since this body isn¡¯t in my jurisdiction. I can send you to the other body but that¡¯s it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to wait¡­ for¡­ Maddie.¡±


    For a long time, the woman watched Em as she flickered in and out of consciousness. Her breathing becoming more and more difficult.


    Eventually, this body was going to die. It was too damaged to avoid it.


    But it may be too late for the link.


    She¡¯d have to do something about it.


    Stubborn human girl.


    She¡¯d hoped that if she showed the child her circumstances, Em would be more likely to accept the reality. In hindsight, perhaps she should have orchestrated an incident where Em encountered a proper nurse instead of the goddess.


    Too late for that.


    The woman draped her hand on Em¡¯s forehead. Sending the child¡¯s spirit back to the other body and leaving this one more or less an empty shell. Then she gave the monitors and other equipment in the room a dirty look.


    Those weren¡¯t helping.


    And she couldn¡¯t interfere with them.


    Well, she was at the end of her options.


    If the child was determined to cling to her denial, then the goddess had no other choice.


    Glumly, she again wished there was only one supreme god. Or at least one that took more interest in the doings of his siblings. Then she could enjoy being a simple angel and go to him when there were problems.


    Instead of crawling to the brother she wasn¡¯t entirely certain she could trust.


    She¡¯d just have to have him make a formal promise. And be very careful with the wording, otherwise he¡¯d probably twist it.


    He¡¯d definitely twist it.


    Because he¡¯d get some amusement out of it.


    With a sigh, she left the annoying room filled with beeping objects and returned to the realm of the gods.


    Where she yet again had to begin negotiations with another god.


    ***


    Em said little during the journey.


    Most of it she spent looking out the window. Or, if she was lucky, sleeping.


    There was just too much to think about. And too much of it felt ¡®real¡¯ for the anxiety to dissolve.


    First, Flint sold the barony.


    Or, rather, it was part of the paperwork he''d prepared to pay off the Marquis.


    So the last three days she''d spent at the manor was in watching the servants once again going into a tizzy of activity as they moved keepsakes from where they''d just been put in storage and cataloguing the rest.


    Things that were catalogued were evaluated and added to the price of the manor. And the keepsakes were moved temporarily to a warehouse, soon to be shipped to the March.


    As for the matter of rent and other things affecting the barony¡¯s tenants and residents, Flint made sure the paperwork was in order so that all the arrangements he''d made since taking over as Baron would remain in place. At least, for as long as the agreed on timeframes.


    The fact that Flint got it all done in three days said a lot about his efficiency.


    Or maybe his foresight.


    Em strongly suspected that he might''ve already been planning to sell the manor and lands. In which case, much of the work might''ve already been done before the meeting with Prince Thiago and Marquis Harrow.


    How much, she didn''t know.


    The only thing that changed was where the money went.


    Flint had given up on the money going to his pocket to save her. Plus, he gave up a handful of other assets that he surely hadn''t planned on not having.


    These dang dreams had a way of brushing against reality.


    It was Maddie all over again. Except now it was Flint, not Maddie, who was shouldering all the financial burden of keeping Em comfortable.


    It made her head hurt.


    If only she''d wake up for real. Then she wouldn''t be dealing with the double guilt of being a burden to both Maddie and Flint.


    Second, the hospital dream.


    Her anxiety for Maddie had risen until she couldn''t eat much.


    She knew it was possible Maddie didn''t survive the accident. It was an accident, after all. She just didn''t expect to hallucinate about it.


    That''s what she decided the encounter was. A hallucination.


    The hospital had been real. She hurt too much for it not to be real.


    But the weird nurse, or goddess or whatever she was, was not.


    Third was Prince.


    Something had changed in her dreams about him. But she wasn''t sure what! It was just a¡­ feeling.


    She noticed a while back that when she dreamed about him, his time usually corresponded with her time. So if she saw him during the day, it was because she was taking a nap. Usually, though, she saw him at night.


    After the events of the day.


    Or maybe during something that happened during the evening.


    Often when he was asleep. But when he was awake¡­


    While she noticed that his demeanor had changed, growing darker and grimmer, she didn''t know why!


    And it wasn''t as though she could ask.


    It was so stupid!


    Why?!


    Why was she so worried and anxious about dreams and things that weren''t real?! Why did she have to feel so sick about it?!


    She shouldn''t feel guilty at all for Flint having to give up the barony.


    She should be worried about Maddie, a real person who could be dying while Em was stuck in a coma. Not a boy that didn''t even exist in the novel!


    And on top of all of it, she shouldn''t be grieving a home she''d never had.


    Emmaline¡¯s memories had settled so firmly into Em that she was having trouble remembering that they weren''t hers. At the time, saying goodbye to the manor had been alright. But as the long, three-week carriage ride dragged out, she woke up more and more often in tears over the loss.


    Lost her parents, lost her brother, lost her home¡­


    Lost Maddie.


    She was exhausted.


    At least she still had Tracy. She didn¡¯t know why the woman had agreed to come along, but it was comforting to see her nearly every moment of every day.


    Speaking of Tracy.


    Em, unable to stand her own thoughts any longer, abruptly crossed the carriage and sat next to her maid. Then curled up on the seat to put her head on the woman''s lap.


    Tracy stroked her hair.


    ¡°Motion sick again?¡±


    Em hadn''t been motion sick at all, but it was a convenient excuse. Even if she was pretty sure Tracy knew it was something else. Tracy didn¡¯t push when Em said she was fine or kept falling back on motion sickness.


    Em nodded mutely.


    ¡°It''s almost time for the noon meal, we''ll take a break then.¡±


    ¡°How much longer?¡±


    Em didn''t hide her whine. Unlike Maddie, who''d been deeply emotionally involved in Em¡¯s suffering, Tracy had maintained empathy without falling apart.


    Making Tracy safe to whine to.


    She also understood Em¡¯s question the way Em meant it.


    ¡°We''ll enter the March either before the meal or just after. Then it''ll be two days to the master''s residence.¡±


    Em let out a slow breath.


    At least the endless travel was almost over.


    And soon she''ll see Flint again. He''d ridden ahead a week ago, leaving behind most of the knights and soldiers he''d brought with him to the barony as her escort. It was only 15 people, but she was told they were some of the best and would keep her safe.


    Another burden.


    If they weren''t escorting a carriage, they would have all made it to the March a week ago at the latest.


    She was just a burden.


    Miserably, she dozed. Getting snatches and glimpses of Prince in a training arena, holding a wooden sword. But she never fully fell asleep, so she never saw more than glimpses.


    They felt more dream-like than normal, so she wasn¡¯t sure what kind of dreams they were. If they were the concurrent-in-time dreams or if they were showing up only because she was thinking about him.


    It was driving her mad that she was now having difficulty remembering that they were all dreams! Waking, sleeping, it didn¡¯t matter!


    ¡°Whoa!¡±


    Em was startled when the carriage stopped so abruptly that she almost fell off the seat. Dazed, she sat up and blinked stupidly around as Tracy sat forward to stick her head out the window.

 Ep. 17 - Who’s In Charge Here?

    ¡°What''s going on? Is it time for the break?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    Someone was yelling outside and while Em rubbed her eyes and oriented herself, Tracy watched whatever was happening.


    Not waiting for Tracy¡¯s report, Em stood up and poked her head out the other seat window.


    ¡°- letting that thing run out onto the road! I should beat you both into the ground!¡±


    ¡°Please, sir, allow me to take both punishments.¡±


    There was a man kneeling on the ground, his body crouched forward. His whole appearance said ¡®tattered¡¯ and ¡®worn¡¯. Like many peasants outside a big city. Or, at least, outside the areas of a big city Em had any memories of.


    It took Em about half a minute to identify what the man was bending over and protectively trying to hide with his body.


    A child.


    She couldn¡¯t tell the age (though she guessed fairly young) because the child was half transformed into some animal. Pointed ears, tail, clawed fingers that clutched at the adult¡¯s shirt¡­


    She knew about Lycan.


    Of course she did! They were part of this world.


    But it was the first time she¡¯d seen one in their transformed state. Even in her Prince dreams, she¡¯d never once seen one in their animal form. Maybe if she¡¯d seen more of him before being enslaved?


    In any case, the coachman and two of the knights were looming over the two Lycan. Like crows or executioners.


    Em was already full of agitated energy and for some reason this pitiful sight was just the excuse she needed to spur herself into motion. She had pushed open the door and gotten onto the step before Tracy made a grab for Em¡¯s arm.


    Em twisted her arm the way Maddie showed her, breaking Tracy¡¯s grip, and hopped to the ground.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on here?¡± she demanded. Hands on hips.


    She heard someone laugh behind her and turned to see her brother¡¯s right-hand man. Who was also the one Flint had left in charge of the escort. The one with purple hair. His name was Ralph, and he had often checked on her throughout the long journey.


    She liked him. He was Flint¡¯s opposite in temperament and could lift the mood in most situations.


    The knight patted her head as he also came to survey the disturbance.


    Then crossed his arms and arranged his face to look more serious. (It didn¡¯t suit him at all.)


    ¡°You heard her. Will someone explain what¡¯s going? To me and the little miss?¡±


    ¡°That little rat ran out in front of the carriage.¡± The coachman spat a wad of gunk toward the pair on the ground. ¡°Shoulda just run it over. Filthy Lycan.¡±


    The adult Lycan tightened his grip on his burden, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. The little one squirmed and whined. Like a puppy wanting to escape.


    ¡°I see. Was that all?¡±


    ¡°If we¡¯d hit the rat, it could have endangered the little miss!¡±


    Really?


    Em frowned and glanced back at the carriage. She didn¡¯t know much about carriages. Could running over a small child really have caused a significant accident? Maybe a bruise falling off the bench seat¡­


    When she looked forward, she found Ralph was looking at her.


    ¡°What do you think, miss? Should I punish them?¡±


    The coachman and his two knight supporters blustered.


    ¡°Why are you asking her, captain?!¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s just a child! How can she properly assess the situation?¡±


    ¡°Do your duty! You can¡¯t let these roaches get away with-¡±


    Ralph held up a hand. ¡°Enough.¡±


    Em studied their resentful glares. She¡¯d thought it before, but now she really saw it. No one liked that Ralph was in charge. Or, rather, there was mixed feelings about it within the group. Most of them didn¡¯t care but some of them were barely hiding their hostility.


    And they obviously didn¡¯t like that he again turned to Em.


    ¡°Well, miss? What do you think?¡±


    Em frowned and crossed her arms. This dream was nonsense, anyway. She didn¡¯t have to pretend to agree with social norms or anything, right? Maybe if she acted out a little now, she could relieve some of the tension she¡¯d been feeling for weeks.


    So she strode up to the kneeling man and surprised everyone by crouching.


    ¡°What¡¯s her name?¡±


    The man jerked his head. Muscles still tensing and untensing in his jaw. But now he had Em¡¯s face really close to his, and he made a visible effort to relax.


    ¡°Laisha. Miss.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s really cute. How old is she?¡±


    He hesitated. ¡°Three.¡±


    Em nodded. That explained everything. What do you do with a three-year-old that was also half animal? If they wanted to run around, who was going to stop them for long? She patted the little girl¡¯s head, and the child swiveled her face around to study Em.


    Fearless. Those big, brown eyes were fearless.


    ¡°I bet she runs off all the time. And I bet she doesn¡¯t see many carriages down this road. She doesn¡¯t understand she could get hurt, huh?¡±


    ¡°No¡­ miss. I mean, yes, miss.¡±


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    The man shot a confused look around at the looming adults and dropped his chin. Trying to appear submissive. Em could sense there was no real submission in him, but he was doing his best to cover it up.


    Probably for the sake of the child.


    ¡°Do you live around here, sir?¡±


    Hesitate. ¡°Yes. Just over that hill, miss.¡± Pause. His tone turned a tch bitter. ¡°My master checks on my work, but otherwise I¡¯m allowed to live out here.¡±


    Without supervision, he meant.


    ¡°Who¡¯s your master?¡± Ralph asked. Arms crossed and listening.


    The man¡¯s hands trembled, and the child squirmed even more. There wasn¡¯t fear in his trembling. He was angry.


    ¡°Avery Sucket.¡±


    Em almost laughed. Suck it. Hahahaha! She swallowed the laugh as she looked at Ralph. Who was frowning.


    ¡°Sucket,¡± he muttered darkly. Apparently he not only knew who that person was, but he also didn¡¯t like the man.


    Again, he looked at Em.


    Waiting for her call.


    ¡°Miss, if I may,¡± said one of the hovering knights. ¡°What you should do is punish these rogues and this Sucket person. For allowing the animals to run around wild.¡±


    The Lycan adult couldn¡¯t take it anymore.


    He growled, and bared teeth that were suddenly very pointed. Glaring at the knight who had just spoken.


    ¡°Enough.¡± Em stood up. Making a show of brushing off her dress. ¡°Laisha is just a child who doesn¡¯t know any better. And this Lycan is probably busy with all the demands being made on him. Too busy to watch a baby. We will ignore the incident. Everyone get back to your post.¡±


    Ralph swallowed a smile as he bowed to her.


    ¡°You all heard the miss¡¯s command.¡±


    ¡°But, captain-!¡±


    ¡°Tyson, I¡¯ve been looking for an excuse to exchange you to another knightage. Do you want me to take the opportunity now?¡±


    The oldest of the two knights openly glared at Ralph. Grinding his teeth. Then he bowed to Em, turned, and marched away.


    Ralph escorted Em back to the carriage and handed her up.


    ¡°Well done, miss. Your brother would be proud.¡±


    Em gave him a puzzled look. ¡°He would be?¡±


    Ralph smiled. ¡°Yes.¡±


    Then he closed the door with a snap, and the carriage started moving.


    Flint would be proud of her? For what? For taking charge of the situation?


    But that was Ralph¡¯s doing. No one would have listened to her if the knight in charge hadn¡¯t insisted. She was fairly certain the other two knights would have escorted her back to the carriage and then dealt with the situation the way they wanted to.


    Still, she was glad she¡¯d gotten out.


    Laisha really had been super cute. For the last fifteen minutes before lunch, Em tried to guess what animal the two were. Laisha¡¯s tail was fluffy and the ears pointed. Maybe a fox?


    And if she was a fox, was the man a fox, too?


    She wished she could¡¯ve asked the hold the little girl.


    But that seemed too close to thinking of the child as an animal. Gads! Why did navigating species and national relations have to be so difficult and touchy?! She just thought the girl was cute!


    Em pouted.


    Stupid adult stuff! They¡¯re supposed to be the grown-ups!


    She started.


    There she went again. For that instant, she felt the difference. She¡¯d slipped into being and feeling like an eleven-year-old instead of eighteen. Well, almost eighteen.


    It was surreal.


    And disturbing.


    Em was disappearing. And it scared her.


    At this rate, she¡¯ll wake up in the hospital and be treated like someone with alzheimers. Her memory and behavior regressed to childhood.


    She groaned.


    ¡°Are you alright, miss?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Tracy.¡±


    Em glared out the window and clenched her fists in her lap.


    Just fine.


    ***


    He was just sitting there. Eyes closed, legs crossed and palms up on his knees. Classic meditation stance. Though Em didn¡¯t know how anyone could sit with their back straight like that for so long.


    Well, maybe she did. Emmaline had much better posture than Em ever did.


    His hands were badly blistered and showed signs of recent bleeding. There were also bruises, big black and blue ones, on his shirtless torso and arms.


    Delighted with an opportunity to make contact, Em touched his palm. Not feeling it but feeding her golden thread into it.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do that.¡±


    He didn¡¯t open his eyes.


    ¡°Why not?¡± Em argued. Pouting.


    She waited, but he didn¡¯t reply. So he still couldn¡¯t see or hear her. How annoying! Part of her hoped that with the initial contact, the dream would magically stop following its own rules and she could interact with him.


    Argh!


    Being an observer was so frustrating!


    With a pout, she touched his other palm and defiantly watched the blisters shrivel and vanish on this one as well.


    ¡°You¡¯re frustrated.¡±


    Em started, and the boy smiled. Eyes still closed.


    ¡°And I just surprised you, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    He had a beautiful smile. Even if Em wasn¡¯t struggling not to feel like an eleven-year-old, she still would have thought he had a beautiful smile. One that matched his pretty face.


    Though her seventeen, almost eighteen-year-old self would never have admitted that she could find a younger boy¡¯s smile attractive.


    He wasn¡¯t that much younger¡­ though as Emmaline he was technically older¡­


    It was confusing.


    She flushed, and the boy wrinkled his forehead.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure I understand those emotions¡­ there, now you¡¯re embarrassed. I got that one.¡±


    More than embarrassed. She was mortified! How much worse would it have been if he¡¯d known what she was thinking?!


    To distract both of them, she touched his shoulder.


    She¡¯d barely started a new golden thread when he pulled his shoulder away from her fingers.


    ¡°Please, don¡¯t.¡±


    She pouted. If he can feel her emotions, was there a way to project them? She thought about how she pushed mana into things. An image in her head. So she imagined her emotions in the shapes of sickly green ribbons then pushed them at him.


    It must¡¯ve worked because he flinched.


    ¡°That came through very strong. You¡¯re upset. Because I¡¯m asking you not to help me?¡±


    She pushed again.


    ¡°If you help me, they¡¯ll notice.¡±


    She paused. They¡¯ll notice? Did he mean¡­?


    ¡°If they think I have some sort of super Lycan power to regenerate, they¡¯ll make it harder.¡±


    Oh.


    She hadn¡¯t thought of that.


    Disappointed. Sad. She pushed those emotions, imagining sky blue and gray ribbons.


    His smile had faded a long time ago, and it just got sadder as he felt her projections.


    ¡°Thank you, Angel. For caring.¡± He lowered his voice. ¡°It means a lot.¡±


    Angel? That again? She wasn¡¯t trying to project this time, but he felt her amusement, anyway. He wrinkled his forehead and opened his mouth to respond...


    When the door suddenly slammed open. Em and Prince both jumped.


    ¡°You!¡±


    Prince rolled to his feet in a crouched position. Warily watching the furious newcomer.


    ¡°I lost today because of you, you little wretch! What trick did you play?¡±

 Ep. 18 - Confinement

    ¡°There was no trick. I¡¯m just better.¡±


    Em gaped at Prince. Don¡¯t provoke him!


    The man growled in fury and launched himself across the small space at Prince. ¡°I¡¯m going to teach you a lesson, you little rat!¡±


    Prince¡¯s bench-like bed broke under their fall and the attacker tried to pin Prince down. He pinned one arm and began swinging his other fist at Prince¡¯s face. After one punch, Prince caught the man¡¯s wrist. And while his nose bled, he yanked the man¡¯s arm down and bit it.


    Hard.


    Hard enough to draw blood and the man screamed in pain and fury.


    It was all the distraction Prince needed to wriggle his way free, pushing the man aside and stumbling for the door.


    For a fifteen-year-old, he was strong. Was it because he was Lycan? Probably.


    Em followed the two as the fight spilled into the hallway. Again, the man caught Prince who hadn¡¯t quite gotten to his feet and slammed the Lycan against a pole.


    It was the first time Em had been just outside Prince¡¯s room. The area outside looked more like a barn than a building, including poles and open space. There were a handful of people timidly peeking in from the big doors on either end of the barn and from the little rooms that lined the walls. All watching as the fight progressed toward the center of the building.


    ¡°You stupid monster!¡±


    Em threw herself at the attacking man. And went right through him! It was infuriating! She tried to imagine throwing a mana made fireball, but it fizzled and refused to form.


    What was the good of healing in a situation like this?!


    ¡°What the hell is going on in here?!¡±


    Suddenly, four men in uniform came into the barn and separated the two fighters. With his arms being held by two of them, Prince went limp. Grunting in pain.


    Both combatants looked horrible.


    Em ran up to Prince and put a hand on his ribs. Just his ribs and insides, she told the golden thread. She saw him stiffen, but he said nothing.


    ¡°What the hell happened?¡±


    ¡°I was just getting the rat for afternoon training,¡± said the attacker. He pushed off the third man holding him and straightened. Holding his bleeding arm against his chest. ¡°It went crazy.¡±


    He shot a sneer at Prince.


    Who glared back but made no attempt to defend himself.


    Man #4, who was doing the questioning, sighed and rubbed his forehead.


    ¡°Take the Lycan to confinement,¡± he told Prince¡¯s captors. ¡°Two days of no food should take some guff out of him. I¡¯ll let the lady know what¡¯s going on.¡±


    ¡°That isn¡¯t fair!¡± Em shouted at them. ¡°Prince didn¡¯t start it!¡±


    Of course, no one heard her. No one saw her.


    If Em could¡¯ve cried in that state, she would have. Fury and helplessness roiled around inside as she followed them to ¡®confinement¡¯. Which turned out to be a little, dirt shack at the back of a farm-yard area.


    It smelled like an outhouse and Prince had to crawl to get inside.


    And once inside with the door closed, the only light was a crack along the top and bottom of the door. Prince collapsed, breathing in hard gasps.


    Prince was going to get sick just being here!


    ¡°Let him out!¡±


    She wiped at her eyes. More out of habit than because she could feel her eyes or could actually cry. They won¡¯t listen. They couldn¡¯t even hear her!


    So she crawled to Prince instead. Not wanting to know what she was lying on as she laid next to him. Trying to see his face in the too dim light.


    She couldn¡¯t see him. But she could hear him.


    Thanks to her quick healing, he wasn¡¯t wheezing. But it hadn¡¯t stopped the pain, and she could hear it in the way his breathing wobbled.


    Now that she was holding still, she felt oddly¡­ heavy.


    Exhausted.


    Just as she felt when she practiced using mana in her¡­ in Emmaline¡¯s body for too long.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Prince. I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry.¡±


    She reached to touch his face but couldn¡¯t feel it. Couldn¡¯t even tell if her fingers were on his face or had gone through his head. She heaved a sob.


    ¡°I can feel you again,¡± Prince whispered. ¡°Don¡¯t be sad, Angel. I¡¯ll be alright.¡±


    ¡°Emmaline. Wake up, miss.¡±


    Em opened her eyes and looked around. Disoriented.


    The carriage had stopped, and Tracy was kneeling in front of her. Tracy was holding a handkerchief and wiped tears off of Em¡¯s cheek.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, miss. I should have woken you sooner.¡±


    Em blinked at her. Then staggered upright and threw her arms around her maid. She burst into more tears. Over a stupid dream! But it felt so real.


    Poor Prince.


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    Poor homesick, grieving Emmaline.


    ¡°There, there, miss,¡± Tracy soothed. Holding Em firmly against her. ¡°I¡¯m here, it was just a dream. Everything will be alright.¡±


    No. No it wouldn¡¯t be alright. Em was dying. Even if Em woke up and all the miseries here went away, it was still game over very soon. She cried harder and barely heard the door to the carriage open.


    ¡°What on earth happened?¡±


    Em heard Tracy explain as best she could. Adding things that Em hadn¡¯t told her but the maid had guessed. Things that Emmaline was feeling.


    Then Em felt a pair of strong arms pull her from Tracy and pick her up.


    Instinctively, she clung to Flint¡¯s chest and neck. Like a small child. Or a monkey.


    Imagining a monkey hanging onto Flint¡¯s neck momentarily made Em¡¯s sobs hiccup. She laughed. Then went back to sobbing while Flint carried her inside a building she didn¡¯t see through her distress.


    ¡°She¡¯s gotten very thin,¡± Flint murmured to Tracy as they walked together.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir. She wouldn¡¯t eat much on the way here. I¡¯m not sure if she would have eaten at all if I didn¡¯t beg her.¡±


    ¡°Ralph, send for a physician. Tell him to bring sedatives.¡±


    Sedatives? She didn¡¯t like the sound of that. So with an effort, she tried to calm her crying. But she was just so tired. All of it was just¡­ so much¡­


    By the time Flint stopped moving and sat down somewhere, still holding her, her sobs had become sniffles.


    ¡°Would you like me to take her, young master?¡±


    ¡°Baron or Commander is fine.¡± Flint¡¯s voice rumbled under Em¡¯s ear. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of Emmaline. Find the housekeeper and have her show you your room. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re tired.¡±


    Tracy hesitated and Em blearily opened her eyes. In time to see her maid bow.


    ¡°Thank you, my lord. I¡¯ll check on the miss in a bit.¡±


    The door clicked behind Tracy.


    Em wasn¡¯t crying anymore. She felt numb. And tired.


    Slowly, she looked around. Partially taking in the bare little room with a bed that was too big for it.


    It was a comfortable looking bed, though. Even if the room wasn¡¯t luxurious, the bed was. And it had a beautiful blue quilt on it with appliqued pink flowers. She reached down to touch a flower.


    ¡°Ralph¡¯s sister made it. Do you like it?¡±


    Em sniffed and nodded. ¡°Ralph has a sister?¡±


    ¡°Older sister. She married one of my other knights and they all came with me here.¡±


    ¡°How did she make it so fast? You didn¡¯t know I was coming before-¡±


    She couldn¡¯t bring herself to mention the memorial. And all the surrounding nonsense.


    ¡°Mariam makes quilts to supplement their income. I just bought one of them.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    He paused, and she could sense his discomfort. He shifted and his arms were stiff. All in all, he was doing great! She leaned her head against his shoulder.


    ¡°When I told her who it was for, she added the flowers.¡±


    ¡°Did she charge you for them?¡±


    The unexpectedness of the question made her rigid brother start. Then he gave out a single huff of laughter.


    ¡°No. I paid her anyway.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Flint shifted, trying to see Em¡¯s face.


    ¡°For what?¡±


    A tear slipped out of Em¡¯s eye. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to be a burden.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not a burden, Emmaline.¡±


    More silent tears. ¡°But you left me with Felix. And because of me, you lost so much money. And you even had to buy a quilt for me. And I¡¯m being such a baby.¡±


    Flint let out a slow sigh. It rumbled under her ear.


    ¡°Emmaline, what happened with Felix and the money was my poor judgement. Not because of anything you did. As for the rest, you¡¯re a child. I¡¯m sure you could take care of yourself if you had to. But its not good for adults to allow that. Do you understand?¡±


    She nodded. Lying.


    ¡°Good. Now, stop this nonsense about being a burden. You¡¯re my responsibility. And you wouldn¡¯t be in such a bad state if I¡¯d taken that responsibility more seriously.¡±


    That didn¡¯t make her feel better. But, if it would ease the weight of having to be responsible for her, she could pretend. Just like she¡¯d done for Maddie.


    She nodded again and closed her eyes.


    The physician came eventually. He prescribed a big bowl of soup and sleep. He also left a small tube of sedative powder she was supposed to put in her milk.


    If she¡¯d been left alone to eat, she probably wouldn¡¯t have eaten much. Or taken the sedative. But Flint didn¡¯t leave until she¡¯d finished the entire bowl and drank her milk. At which point, he let Tracy come back to get Em out of her traveling clothes and put her to bed.


    He came back into the room one last time before she drifted off. Looking down at her with a grim expression.


    She read that expression for what it was.


    Concern.


    ¡°Flint?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Emmaline?¡±


    She reached up and took his hard, calloused hand.


    ¡°Could you call me Em from now on? I don¡¯t want to be Emmaline. Or Em. But I want Em more.¡±


    He raised an eyebrow, and she swore she saw sadness in his eyes.


    He squeezed her hand.


    ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll call you Em.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t exactly happy when she fell asleep. But it felt good to hear Em again.


    Maybe¡­ maybe it¡¯ll help her remember.


    ***


    Strain and worry and stress eventually breaks down even the healthiest system.


    Em was sick for three days.


    On the second night, her fever was so high that even the doctor was alarmed.


    ¡°My lord, we need to do a healing,¡± she vaguely remembered him telling Flint.


    At least, she thought she remembered it.


    What she really remembered was being infused with mana. The golden thread filtered into her, filling her body. It felt like a sip of hot chocolate. Warm and comforting. Her tremors and huffing slowed.


    Then ceased


    Blearily, she opened her eyes. Watching the mage back up and whisper to Flint


    ¡°I''m not sure that''s a good sign,¡± the mage said anxiously. ¡°I''ve never healed anyone who didn''t scream. Even if they were dead unconscious when I started.¡±


    Flint simply patted the man''s shoulder and gestured for him to leave.


    Then her brother sat next to her.


    He met her tired eyes, and his gaze softened. Gently, he stroked her hair.


    ¡°It''s good to know you can both give and receive on the same basis, little one.¡±


    She had no idea what he was talking about. Her mind and body were too exhausted to understand anything happening around her. Contentedly, she pulled his big hand down under her cheek and fell back to sleep.


    The next morning, the third day, she felt much better.


    In every way.


    The sun must''ve risen on her spirits, because it was with great difficulty that Tracy kept Em in bed. Now that Em was recovering, she was itching to get out of bed. And more than once Tracy had to pick her up and take her back.


    Day four, Tracy was the one who was exhausted and slept right through dawn.


    And right through Em crawling out of bed and making a break out her bedroom door.

 Ep. 19 - Mantelpiece Decoration

    Still in her nightgown, Em explored her new surroundings. Dodging people wherever possible. Though she wasn''t sure if she went completely unnoticed or not.


    The building had once been beautiful. She was sure of it. Not elegant like the Imperial Palace. Since this building was obviously meant for defense not show.


    The building was strong and covered in motifs molded into the stonework.


    But war had done a lot to destroy it.


    Walls, especially the outside ones, were marred with signs of magic. Burnt walls, water stains, places where an earth elemental mage has collapsed the wall.


    Half the main building and other buildings were burnt down. Some under repair. Most were simply patched up, so the elements didn''t damage what was left.


    And the graveyard.


    Em didn''t go inside. But she saw line after line of newer graves and felt a touch of her grief return. This time in empathy.


    How many people lost loved ones here? How many mourners were left behind?


    And all so one selfish man could be Emperor?


    ¡­ Why did her dreams have to be so real?


    Unwilling to give up the warmth she''d recently regained after slowly losing it, Em bowed to the graveyard and left it behind. Instead, she crawled through an opening in the outer wall and outside.


    Outside was a little better. There was a wide field on this side of the compound, with a forest about half a mile away. While the field was pockmarked with signs of the most recent battle, from this distance the forest looked untouched.


    Em couldn''t resist.


    Before she got sick, she and Maddie often went on hikes. At first, Em thought Maddie hated them and was only indulging Em. But after a while, Em realized Maddie''s complaining was simply hot air, and she neither liked nor disliked the hikes.


    Though she and Em tended to both be out of breath by the end of them. Even when Em was still at her healthiest.


    Em, however, loved those hikes.


    While everyone was abruptly put on alert to look for the young miss, Em was wandering around the edge of the forest. Looking at plants she''d never seen before, picking up pretty rocks she carried in her fists to take back with her, and listening to bird songs she didn''t recognize.


    Forgetting for a moment all her sadness and just allowing the eleven-year-old have her moment.


    Then she found the tree.


    It was easily the biggest tree she''d ever seen. So wide around that if it were hollowed out, the gazebo back home would have fit snuggly inside.


    The best part was the bark.


    Thick and sturdy.


    She put down her treasure trove of pretty rocks and tested the bark with her fingers. When it didn''t tear or shred, she attempted to pull herself up.


    It held her weight fine. But her fingers and arms weren''t strong enough. She noticed, too, that while her healing has done a lot to increase her stamina, she was still weaker than normal from being sick.


    After a good fifteen minutes, the highest she could climb was about her own height. Which she thought was amazingly good, considering the circumstances.


    Admitting defeat, she dropped and patted the tree.


    ¡°I''ll be back,¡± she promised it.


    ¡°I found her!¡±


    Em had barely crawled through the opening and back into the yard when someone yelled. The next thing she knew, a woman in a worn out dress had gently grabbed her around the shoulders and marched her back to the building.


    Tracy scolded her until her ears rang. But the woman kissed Em several times on the top of the head as she got Em ready for a bath. And, Em noticed, Tracy didn''t throw away her collection of pebbles.


    Which was good, because as soon as Em could, she scooped them up and ran off again.


    With Tracy calling after her.


    She found Flint in his office. Compared to Father¡¯s office, it was depressingly bare. There was only a desk, two chairs, and one shelf. And the shelf was technically an extension of the mantlepiece. With only five books.


    It made her wonder what happened to Father¡¯s books.


    Emmaline¡¯s father¡¯s books.


    She shook herself and raced around the desk. Where she dropped her handful of pebbles on the desk before Flint had time to acknowledge her.


    ¡°Look what I found! I¡¯ve never seen rocks like these.¡±


    Flint stared first at her and then at the rocks. With such a blank expression, she wondered if she¡¯d accidentally spoken English.


    ¡°How¡¯re you feeling?¡±


    It was her turn to go blank. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You were sick. How are you feeling?¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± She picked up one rock and fiddled with it. Tilting her head to consider the question. ¡°My limbs are all in place and I¡¯m still breathing. Oh, and today I¡¯m upright. I feel very good.¡±


    Her brother huffed. Did he just laugh?


    Deciding to test her luck, she thrust the purple rock in his face. ¡°Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s pretty?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± He struggled to find words. Flustered by the sparkle in her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ very nice.¡±


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    She laughed. ¡°What you want to say is, it¡¯s a rock, Em. A normal, not precious gem rock. And you want me to think its anything else?¡±


    This seemed to fluster him even more.


    She put it on the desk with the others.


    ¡°Just wait,¡± she promised. ¡°I¡¯ll put them together and make some really beautiful. Then you¡¯ll have to put it on your mantelpiece and tell everyone that your lovely little sister made it for you.¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she said. Firmly.


    His eyes softened, and he stood up. ¡°We¡¯ll negotiate when the time comes. Meanwhile, have you had breakfast?¡±


    ¡°Breakfast?¡± She looked at him, aghast. She¡¯d forgotten breakfast! How?!


    Em trotted next to him as they walked down to the dining hall. Telling him all about her morning.


    And receiving a four word scolding. ¡°Don''t do that again.¡±


    The part of Em that wasn¡¯t regressing into a child noticed the hallways and the gloomy state of the dining hall. Even here, in the functional part of the old castle, there were the unmistakable signs of war.


    But was it the most recent war? The one where the last owner of this castle was probably killed?


    Or was it the scars of past wars?


    Flint stopped to talk to a knight just before they entered the dining hall. While they talked, Em intently studied a scarring in the doorframe''s wood.


    Something sharp had hit this spot.


    Something sharp and heavy enough to sink several inches inside. Maybe an axe? She touched it.


    Next to her, the knight bowed to Flint and walked away.


    ¡°Brother?¡±


    Flint flinched but Em, who wasn¡¯t looking at him, didn¡¯t notice.


    ¡°Yes, Em?¡±


    She traced the nick in the wood. ¡°What happened to the people who lived here before?¡±


    Flint was silent for long enough that Em looked up at him. He put a hand on her head and, without answering, walked into the dining hall.


    She¡¯d expected they¡¯d at least been captured as slaves. But if Flint didn¡¯t want to answer her¡­ maybe it was worse than that.


    Heart heavy, she dashed after him.


    There were practically no servants in the castle. Tracy being almost the only exception.


    The people doing the work were the knights (when they could) and their families. Women and children who¡¯d followed their husbands and fathers to this foreign land. So everywhere Em looked there was not a single maid uniform in sight. Even Tracy hadn¡¯t bothered unpacking her uniform when she saw the state of the castle.


    It also meant only sections of the castle were being taken care of.


    The kitchen and the dining hall were immaculate. As were the individual sleeping chambers, barracks, stables, and the yard. But the hallways only saw a broom or a duster occasionally.


    It made her suspect that Flint might be cleaning his own office.


    Maybe.


    Still, even though it was outside of Emmaline¡¯s experience, the whole atmosphere sort of reminded Em of a day camp she¡¯d gone to once as a child. Except she found out fairly quickly that she, as the young miss, wasn¡¯t expected to do much of anything.


    If she¡¯d just been Emmaline, who was used to being waited on, she might¡¯ve read or played all day.


    But since she wasn¡¯t, she attempted to find something she could help with.


    For the first day, she decided to just wander around. Just looking for now.


    With Tracy sticking close behind.


    Knights that were ¡®off duty¡¯ were working on the rebuilding parts of the main castle. Trading off when it was their turn to train or be on guard. And children younger than her were doing things like ¡®waddling¡¯ buckets of water to the kitchen.


    It almost escaped her that she hadn¡¯t seen any Lycan in the castle. Until she entered a walled kitchen garden and found the first one.


    The little boy took one look at her and abandoned his weeding. Scurrying up a tree with a squeak.


    It happened so fast she wondered if she¡¯d seen it at all.


    Then she stepped up under the tree. The little boy hissed at her. Swinging a tail so bushy it was nearly as big as he was. When she took a step closer instead of away, he used the tail to hide behind.


    Peeking at her through the fur.


    ¡°Hello,¡± she called up the tree. ¡°My name¡¯s Em. What¡¯s your name?¡±


    He looked like he was at least two years younger than her. And extremely wary. It reminded her of some children who¡¯d lived on her mom¡¯s ghetto street back home. Before Maddie rescued her.


    It was probably how she¡¯d been as a little kid. Understanding she was in danger all the time on that street, even if she didn¡¯t know why.


    He made a strange chittering sound and scurried further up the tree.


    ¡°Come on, miss,¡± Tracy murmured. ¡°You¡¯re scaring him.¡±


    Em hesitated. She craned her neck to see the child and when she could only get a glimpse through the leaves, she shrugged.


    If he lived here (and she thought it likely, considering he was weeding when she found him), then she¡¯d have plenty of chances to talk to him in the future.


    ¡°Are there any other Lycan in the castle?¡± asked Em. She grabbed Tracy¡¯s hand as they walked away.


    ¡°Just the gardeners. There¡¯s three of them.¡±


    ¡°They take care of the whole garden by themselves?¡±


    Tracy nodded.


    Em hesitated then blurted, ¡°They¡¯re not all babies, are they?¡±


    Tracy burst into laughter, and Em scowled.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think its funny!¡±


    Tracy wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Still chuckling. ¡°No, no. They¡¯re not all babies,¡± she assured Em. Trying and failing to keep a straight face. ¡°Todd lives with his grandparents.¡±


    ¡°What about his parents?¡±


    Tracy¡¯s smile faded, and she looked ahead.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    Em felt a pang in her heart and she looked back at Todd. Guessing the state of his parents. Considering the state of his country.


    ¡°I think he¡¯s a squirrel. Do squirrel Lycan like nuts?¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Or,¡± Em continued, as though she hadn¡¯t heard Tracy, ¡°would he be offended that I thought to bring him nuts like an animal?¡±


    Tracy shrugged. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know,¡± she repeated.


    Em sighed.


    It was so hard! If people could just see good intentions for what they were, there would be no need for walking around like there was glass everywhere and no one had shoes.


    She put the dilemma out of her mind because she suddenly noticed she was feeling drowsy. It must¡¯ve been coming on for a while, but her eleven-year-old body and mind didn¡¯t recognize it until she was stumbling.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s time for a nap, miss,¡± said Tracy gently. ¡°You were sick for a few days after all.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t wanna,¡± Em whined.


    I sound like a child, she thought. That didn¡¯t stop her from grumbling as Tracy led her upstairs. It was just, she¡¯d slept so much as sick Em! She didn¡¯t want to sleep all the time here, too.


    But when she finally laid down and curled her legs up in fetal position, she almost immediately started dozing.


    Tracy sat beside her on a rocking chair. Humming as she moved her basket of mending closer to her. Rocking and sewing don¡¯t go together, Em thought with a yawn when she noticed Tracy didn¡¯t rock.


    Will I see Prince this time? I didn¡¯t see him while I was sick¡­


    She stood over herself in the hospital. Nurses and doctors seemed to be everywhere as they revived her heart. She paced behind them. Watching with detached interest.


    Was this when she finally died?

 Ep. 20 - Not the Fake Nurse

    Apparently not.


    The machine monitoring her heart suddenly started beeping and the people in the room let out sighs of relief and exchanged smiles.


    All except one man who grumbled, ¡°She¡¯s practically dead. Shouldn¡¯t we just let her go?¡±


    One nurse punched him hard on the arm and glared at him as she stalked out.


    ¡°I think he¡¯s right. They should just let you go. Though, the act of a heartbeat dying is so commonplace, I can¡¯t see any amusement in it.¡±


    Sitting in a chair along the wall, was¡­ not a man. Em hadn¡¯t noticed him before, so she wasn¡¯t sure how long he¡¯d been there. Looking at him, she knew he was male. But he wasn¡¯t a man. Maybe a Lycan?


    Though she couldn¡¯t pinpoint what kind of animal he¡¯d be if he were.


    His eyes slitted (literally, like a snake but horizontal) and he smiled a mouth so full of pointed teeth that it should have scared her.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked him.


    ¡°Me? I¡¯m hurt!¡± He pretended a pained look, his face morphing into something shaped like clay as he pouted. ¡°You used my name a while ago but have no memory of me? I¡¯m sad.¡±


    ¡°At least the goddess nurse was pretty,¡± Em said dryly. ¡°You look like a dough ball.¡±


    The thing threw back his head in a cackle of laughter.


    ¡°How about this, then?¡±


    His features molded and morphed grotesquely. Until what looked like a miniature dragon lounged on the chair. Its tail flicking through the heart monitor and its head resting on Em¡¯s chest. The Em in the bed, that is.


    It was a beautiful dragon. With silver scales and red eyes.


    ¡°I have a feeling that¡¯s not your normal shape.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he agreed. Eyes laughing as he lifted his head. ¡°I just thought this one would be more fun. Take a good look, little one! Memorize every scale. Aren¡¯t I a beauty?¡±


    ¡°I want to see your real shape,¡± Em demanded.


    The creature sagged in mock dejection. ¡°You didn¡¯t like my real shape,¡± he whined. ¡°You called me a dough ball. It was soooo mean!¡±


    Em rolled her eyes. ¡°Stop being a child.¡±


    The thing grinned at her. Dragon mouth also full of sharp teeth, though differently shaped.


    ¡°What are you going to do now, little spirit?¡±


    Em frowned, hesitated, then marched toward the door. She¡¯d walked through the wood and one step outside when abruptly she was yanked backward. With a shriek, she landed on top of the bed and the thing started laughing uproariously.


    ¡°You did it! You really did it! I had my doubts, but you really tried to leave the room!¡±


    ¡°What was that?!¡± she snapped, turning over to glare at him.


    That was when she noticed her state was the same as when she was with Prince. Completely invisible.


    ¡°That was this.¡±


    Triumphantly, the thing changed form again. Melting into a humanoid thing without a face or clothes as he reached out and held up what looked like a golden umbilical chord.


    The chord pulsed in the creature¡¯s hand. A light brightening the gold with every heartbeat.


    Em studied the chord. It not only connected her to the Em in the bed but also to the wall leading outside.


    ¡°Where does it go?¡±


    ¡°Want to see?¡±


    Em looked at him warily. And he smiled cheekily. This time, there were no sharp teeth. Just gums.


    Which she found equally disturbing.


    ¡°Never mind.¡± She sat back, folding her arms. Uncomfortably feeling a pulse from the Em on the bed. It echoed and pulsed pain with the umbilical chord. ¡°I bet you have some sort of trick going on.¡±


    That was when it hit her.


    ¡°Loki. Your name is Loki.¡±


    The creature burst into maniacal laughter, and Em winced. Abruptly, the thing thrust the umbilical chord into Em¡¯s hands. Startling her because he knew where her hands were when she couldn¡¯t see them.


    ¡°I love you think none of this is real,¡± said the creature. Eyes lit up with a red glow. ¡°It¡¯s going to be fun messing with this.¡±


    Em sat up with a gasp.


    The gasp sounded like a gunshot to her. But it must not have been that loud, because Tracy didn¡¯t even stir. The maid was slumped in her chair, her mending falling off her lap as she slept.


    After a moment, Em rubbed her eyes and glanced at the window.


    It had to have been at least an hour!


    Cautiously, she slid out of bed and tiptoed around Tracy. Escaping as the woman stirred. Awakened by the sound of Em¡¯s door gently closing.


    Em wandered around for a while. Looking for the library.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    It wasn¡¯t until she found a room that looked like it might¡¯ve been a library once, that it occurred to her that such a place might not exist in this building. She walked along rows of empty shelves. Wiping thick dust off with her finger in a trail behind her.


    It definitely looked like a library. But if there¡¯d ever been books here, they were long gone.


    What happened to them?


    Were they claimed as spoils of war? Sold to the nobility?


    Or burned?


    If they were here, they would¡¯ve been Lycan books. She couldn¡¯t see the human populace wanting them around. Except¡­ maybe as novelty items? She could see that.


    In any case, whatever happened to the possibly once-existent books didn¡¯t help her now.


    She folded her arms and tapped her elbows. Frowning at the floor.


    Loki.


    It disturbed her that a god of tricks and mischief had now appeared in her dreams. So far her dreams may have had a mind of their own, but she¡¯d been fully in control of her own actions and affecting this world.


    Loki could either change that¡­ or become an asset in creating a happy dream life.


    She just needed to know how to get him to do as she wanted, right?


    Tracy still hadn¡¯t found her by the time she reached Flint¡¯s office. Feeling a little guilty, Em resolved to head back to Tracy as soon as she was done. So the maid wouldn¡¯t worry.


    She raised her hand to knock.


    ¡°... Sucket. Avery Sucket.¡±


    Em froze, hand suspended. Then she leaned forward, putting an ear on the crack. The door hung badly from damage it had received some time in the past, so the voices inside came through easily.


    ¡°Him again,¡± Flint¡¯s voice rumbled. Sounding more than a little annoyed. ¡°What is he up to this time? Lining the food barrels with rocks? Hiding moldy straw in the middle of the hay bales again? Or did he finally leave and I can have some peace?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s telling his charges that he¡¯s their master. I sent someone to investigate, and he¡¯s gone so far as to hire men to act as slave drivers. Whips and all.¡±


    There was a long silence.


    ¡°I see. Where did he get the money? No, wait. See who¡¯s at the door first.¡±


    Em barely had time to step back before the door swung open. Revealing Ralph holding it open and Flint at the desk.


    Flint raised an eyebrow. ¡°I thought so. What can I do for you, Em?¡±


    Self consciously, Em stepped into the room.


    ¡°What are you going to do about that Sucket man?¡± she demanded.


    Worried about the Lycan and his daughter, and not knowing what Flint would do about it. Maybe nothing. Maybe he was just offended that Sucket was claiming lordship when Flint was the one actually in charge.


    ¡°Hasn¡¯t anyone told you eavesdropping is rude?¡±


    Em stuck out her chin. ¡°You should fix your door if you don¡¯t want anyone to overhear.¡±


    Ralph choked on a laugh, and Flint sent him a scathing look. Then he returned his attention to Em.


    ¡°What can I do for you?¡±


    Em pouted. He wasn¡¯t going to answer her! Sulkily, she decided that fighting Flint wasn¡¯t in her best interests right now. Not if she wanted to get what she came for.


    ¡°Do you have a book on the gods?¡±


    ¡°A book on¡­ why?¡±


    Em shrugged. ¡°I just want to know more. Do you have one?¡±


    ¡°I do not. Is there anything else?¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Em bit her lip and sighed. Flint seemed impatient to send her away, but for whatever reason was unwilling to tell her to go. If he won¡¯t or can¡¯t help, she¡¯d figure out Loki later.


    Maybe she could find a priest?


    But, there was something else she needed to ask. Now that she¡¯d had a good look around.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be the only one not working. Is there anything you want me to do? If not, I was going to ask the ladies in the kitchen.¡±


    Flint raised an eyebrow. ¡°You want a job?¡±


    Em nodded. She¡¯d never been able to help Maddie much in real life. Especially toward the end. And it always bothered her. Here, she was both healthy and young. She could at least do dishes.


    That way she¡¯d be less of a burden on everyone.


    Flint studied her for a long moment. Tapping a finger on his desk.


    Was he actually thinking or just in shock that a little noble woman wanted to work? Em was fidgeting when he finally spoke.


    ¡°I actually had a job in mind for you,¡± he said. Carefully. Weighing every word as though it might bite him if he didn¡¯t. ¡°But you will need some more training to do it. Are you willing?¡±


    ¡°What kind of training?¡±


    ¡°Remember when I said you needed to start physical training?¡±


    Em wrinkled her forehead. ¡°You want me to be a knight?¡±


    Ralph choked on laughter, and both Em and Flint shot him a look. Flint¡¯s look was annoyed. Em¡¯s blank.


    ¡°Ralph, will you leave for a moment? And don¡¯t listen at the door.¡±


    After the door closed behind a sulky Ralph, Flint stood up and approached Em. Kneeling in front of her.


    ¡°Em,¡± he said seriously. ¡°Do you remember the day of the duel?¡±


    Em flinched. Suddenly she knew where this was going. ¡°Yes,¡± she said hesitantly.


    ¡°Do you know what you did that day?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ healed you?¡±


    Oh, crap, she shouted internally. Crap, crap, crap¡­


    ¡°You have a gift for healing, Em. I want you to develop it more.¡±


    Em clenched her fists. Lost for words. ¡°But- Healing hurts people,¡± she said weakly. She knew, and Flint knew, that in her case that was a non-issue. But she couldn¡¯t think of any other way to try and dissuade him.


    Maybe if she could figure out how to make him think it was a fluke? Or his own strength?


    He smiled. But it was grim.


    ¡°That won¡¯t be a problem for you, Em. What will be a problem is keeping it a secret.¡±


    ¡°A¡­ secret?¡±


    This was a turn in the conversation she hadn¡¯t been expecting. Suddenly her half-formed arguments were useless, and she was left fumbling again.


    ¡°Yes, a secret. It is an excellent gift to have, and it will be a big job for you. And even if you don¡¯t do it as a job, it will be good to be proficient in case of an emergency. But.¡± He stressed the word. ¡°It could also put you in danger if the wrong people find out.¡±


    ¡°Secrets don¡¯t stay secret if you tell it.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right. That¡¯s why we¡¯ll have to be careful with your training.¡±


    Em bit her lip. ¡°But¡­ what if I don¡¯t want to?¡±


    Arguments were slipping away from her. She knew they were there, darn it! Why couldn¡¯t she think of any?


    While she was panicking, Flint was studying her face. He relaxed.


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. In that case, I have no job for you. You can go ask the kitchen ladies for work.¡±


    He patted her arm and stood up. About to return to his desk.


    ¡°Wait!¡± She grabbed his sleeve. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s it.¡±


    Was he manipulating her? Playing a good big brother like Felix had done?


    Or was he being sincere?

 Ep. 21 - Cheating

    She chewed on her lip, still holding his sleeve as she thought.


    ¡­ She supposed it wouldn¡¯t hurt to know more. Maybe she could get more magic training as well. You know, in case of an emergency, like Flint said.


    And worse comes to worst, if she was good enough at either healing or magic, she could run away. Especially if he tried to sell her to someone.


    Finally, she nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    Flint patted her head.


    ¡°Good. I¡¯ll make the arrangements. Until then, just focus on settling in. And don¡¯t give your maid a heart attack. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯ll do if she quits. Now off you go. Send Ralph back in.¡±


    Was he teasing her? She couldn¡¯t tell, since his facial expression had barely moved during the interview.


    ***


    It took Em a moment to understand what was different.


    Prince was in a small room, as usual. But it wasn''t his small room.


    Somewhere, she heard a roaring sound. She recognized it from movies and events she''d attended as Em. Places with big crowds and a competitive atmosphere.


    She frowned and tried to walk through the door.


    It was the first time she''s tried to leave Prince¡¯s side, and the result surprised her. Unlike trying to leave her body at the hospital, she wasn''t yanked back. Instead, everything around her faded until there was only blackness in all directions.


    Except in the direction where Prince was.


    She returned to him, and her surroundings became normal again.


    In the small room, Prince was sitting on a very uncomfortable-looking bench. Crouched forward on his knees and covering his head with both hands.


    His hands were shaking.


    What the heck was going on?!


    Abruptly, the crowd noises rose, and she heard a separate voice rise above it.


    ¡°And Vulture lost! Can you believe it, folks? Who could have predicted the undefeated newcomer would lose so dramatically?¡±


    ¡°Prince?¡±


    She tried to project her emotions. Concern and curiosity. But he didn''t respond. She could hear his breathing becoming erratic as his panic heightened.


    ¡°Hold tight, friends. We''ll be beginning the next round of newcomer matches as soon as the arena is cleared. Our coming lineup-¡±


    Em sat next to Prince as she listened to the announcer.


    ¡°Four barbarians from the deep north. Captured when the bastards tried to raid Duke Caviet¡¯s lands and sent by the esteemed Duke as a gift for your enjoyment. Two spyders, captured in a monster battle to the east. Five Lycan, sponsored by various nobles in the stands¡­¡±


    Em racked her mind. Trying to make sense of the announcements.


    None of her experiences, as either Em or Emmaline, could immediately answer the puzzle. Some sort of contest?


    ¡°And don''t forget our finale! The Gloom against Scar. It should be a historic match! Vying to take the lead and a chance to win their freedom. Now to our freeman lineup¡­¡±


    Win their freedom?


    No way.


    No way!


    Was this¡­? Was this a gladiator event?!


    She hovered her imaginary hand on Prince¡¯s shoulder. Stomach twisting.


    What should she do?


    What could she do?!


    First, don''t panic. Second, try to get Prince to stop panicking.


    Her eyes zeroed in on his hands. They were bandaged in brown soaked wrappings. Poorly wrapped, dirty bandages. He probably had to do it himself.


    Injured hands wouldn''t help him in a fight for his life.


    Taking a deep breath, Em placed her hands over his and imagined the golden rope. Wrapping itself around Prince''s hands and enveloping them.


    At first he didn''t realize what was going on. Too panicked to notice anything.


    Then he jerked his chin up but didn''t move.


    For once not protesting the help.


    When Em was done, Prince slowly lowered his hands to his lap and unwrapped them. Wearily, Em slumped on the bench. It was all she could do not to slide right through the seat and onto the floor.


    Being a ghost was hard!


    Stupid dream!


    Prince flexed his healed fingers. Studying his palms for any of the debilitating blisters that had been there before.


    ¡°Thank you, Angel,¡± he whispered. He swallowed. ¡°Could you¡­ heal some of my other injuries?¡±


    ¡°What about not getting caught?¡±


    Prince stared at his hands. Unaware of her question and still apparently unable to feel her.


    Frustrated, Em took a deep breath as she stood up and looked Prince over. Unlike most of the other times she''s seen him, he had a shirt on. Actually, he was clean and dressed in a flamboyantly colored uniform.


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    Costume. It was a costume.


    He looked like a guard or knight or something. But in bright yellow and pink. It was an awful combination, but no one could miss him.


    That was probably the point.


    It didn''t make it easy for her to figure out where he needed help.


    Finally, she put her hands on his head and just fed him the golden rope. Forced to trust the magic or his body to know what to do with the flow of magic.


    Long before she wanted to, she stumbled back and fell to the floor. A wave of dizziness and exhaustion hit her.


    The walls of the little room shimmered like a heat wave.


    ¡°Thank you, Angel. I feel much better.¡±


    He sounded calmer, too. After taking a couple of deep breaths, he tried to smile. Then frowned.


    ¡°Angel? Are you alright?¡±


    Now he can feel me? She stuck a grumpy tongue out at him. Even that imaginary movement worsened the dizziness. The walls were no longer moving¡­ but they were no longer there, either.


    Everything was turning black.


    Everything except right around Prince. She reached over, trying to touch his knee reassuringly.


    Her hand went right through. She was too tired to even hover.


    ¡°Angel!¡±


    She didn''t know if he could still feel her or not. He was looking around, not knowing where to look.


    ¡°I''m¡­ alright¡­¡±


    She tried to project bursts of sunshine at him.


    And didn''t know if he received it before darkness claimed her.


    ***


    Asher. His name was once Asher Wyn.


    The youngest prince of Wyngarde.


    Once he was the one Father had confidentially believed would become the next Guardian mage. Heir of the surname of Wyngarde itself.


    All of that was now gone.


    In the last three years, he thought he¡¯d gone through every possible nightmare. Except, mercifully, outright torture.


    Starvation, harassment, terror, and tears.


    Today, despite knowing he couldn''t afford it, he''d frozen. Memories crashed into him, taking his breath and his awareness.


    Believing that today was the day he''d finally die.


    Then he''d felt the warmth.


    He didn''t know how long it was there before it penetrated the darkness of his mind. Wrapping him in a light so tangible it almost shocked him he couldn''t see it.


    Then he''d become greedy. Desperate to continue feeling that light.


    As soon as he calmed enough to sense it, he immediately realized Angel was in trouble. Helplessly, all he could do was try to maintain calm so he could continue to sense his invisible friend.


    When the presence vanished, the only thing that didn''t tip Asher back into darkness was knowing Angel wasn''t panicking. Even exhausted, Angel was peaceful.


    That meant nothing.


    Can ghosts or angels die? He didn''t think so. They were spirits of a sort, weren''t they? They could be banished but not killed.


    But he didn''t know what Angel was. Did he just kill his only friend?


    He swallowed and stood up.


    The only way he''ll find that out for sure was if he stayed alive. He owed Angel that much


    He started stretching and warming up. And also putting himself through his uncle''s routine and drills, minus the weapon. He''d been secretly practicing it ever since he was captured three years ago. But hadn''t dared use it during training with the Mistress¡¯s knights.


    It was his one advantage. He couldn''t risk anyone knowing too soon and preparing for it.


    He''d just heard the announcer call out a Spyder as the winner, when the door handle rattled.


    Asher froze.


    Then he straightened up and clenched both fists at his sides. Ready to be taken away.


    Except he wasn''t taken away.


    An unexpectedly mousy man with glasses and a hunch stepped into the room. Closing the door behind him.


    For a long moment, Asher endured the man''s scrutiny.


    The man snorted.


    ¡°Can Lady Arnold''s taste be any more gaudy?¡±


    Asher blinked. What?


    The man didn''t expect a reply. Muttering under his breath, he took two steps to the side and put his bag down on the bench.


    ¡°I can''t believe I have to do this. All this work for a Lycan whelp! I hope I get a big bonus. You, boy, sit.¡±


    Asher clenched his jaw.


    ¡°No.¡±


    The man looked up sharply. ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°You''re not my mistress or her subordinate. I don''t have to obey you.¡±


    There was a long tense moment, filled only with the announcer¡¯s voice as she entertained the crowd between bouts. The man abruptly smirked, which only made Asher tense even more.


    ¡°Someone is paying a lot of money to fix your bouts. I''ve seen your stats. I have no doubt you''ll make it far on your own. But if you want a near guarantee, I suggest you sit.¡±


    ¡°Someone is paying to cheat?¡±


    The man snapped open his bag.


    ¡°You''d be shocked how often it happens. The gladiatorial games are as much a political arena as a warrior one. There are a few outlier competitors who defy all methods of fixing the bouts. Usually, the only slave gladiators who live are chosen from the beginning. The freemen are the ones who truly win by skill alone.¡±


    Asher felt an icy chill spread through his stomach.


    So it was a lie? They told the slaves they could earn their freedom, but in truth, that was only a farce to keep them fighting?


    ¡°How do I know you''re not here to hurt me instead?¡±


    ¡°If I was going to do that, I would''ve slipped it into your meal. Not tell you the secret of a slave win.¡±


    Asher looked unconvinced.


    ¡°Boy, I''m telling you, the arena received 40 billion zen to keep you alive until you''re free. Do you need me to shoot myself first to believe me?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    The man unexpectedly chuckled. ¡°Fine. I was feeling low anyway. Sit.¡±


    He pulled out a glass bottle and two needles from the bag. Cautiously, Asher sat and watched as the man filled each needle with half the bottle¡¯s contents. Then he administered one to himself.


    Asher clenched his fists. Not liking at all the brief look of ecstasy on the man''s face.


    ¡°It''s a drug.¡±


    ¡°For me, yes,¡± said the man cheerfully. ¡°A boost of strength that could make me pass for a warrior for an hour. And only ten years off my lifespan in exchange, no matter how much I use.¡±


    ¡°I don''t want even one year off mine.¡±


    The man snorted.


    ¡°It doesn''t make a Lycan give up lifespan, boy. Take it too long and you could lose your sanity. But you won''t be taking it that long. Now, arm.¡±


    Still, Asher resisted.


    ¡°You said this was a political move? What does my mistress have to gain from me winning?¡±


    ¡°I never said the player was your mistress.¡±


    Asher narrowed his eyes. ¡°Then who is it? What do they want?¡±


    ¡°I don''t know. Something worth 40 billion zen.¡±


    Asher considered. The stranger could still be lying. The drug could have a negative effect on Asher and be what kills him. Even if it helped Asher in the short run, it could still kill him.


    On the other hand, if it gave him a boost as claimed, it could be what saved his life.


    Asher only took a few more seconds and the announcement of the next bout to decide. He stood up and moved warily away. Shaking his head.


    ¡°No.¡±


    The mousey man shrugged and picked up the full needle. Then shot Asher a smirk.


    ¡°Fine. It¡¯s more fun this way.¡±

 Ep. 22 - For Angel

    The man stood up and swiftly launched himself at the prince. It was only because the man looked like he belonged in a library that Asher was taken by surprise for two seconds. But as soon as he felt the man¡¯s iron grip dig into his arm, he reflexively moved.


    He tried to toss the smaller man aside but his opponent clamped his fingers into Asher¡¯s arm and pulled. With a strength that Asher was completely unprepared for, the man successfully pulled Asher off balance.


    Asher fell forward, barely catching himself on the bench with one arm. He was already trying to get to his feet and turn around to face his opponent, but the other man grabbed his arm. The one supporting him on the floor.


    Destabilized, Asher crashed to the floor. Furiously, he twisted his body. He was on his back, but dang it! He was facing his opponent! To his surprise, the other man let go of his arm and stomped on his stomach.


    Pain exploded in his abdomen, and he gasped. Before he could react again, the man plunged the needle into Asher¡¯s leg and squeezed everything out of it.


    Asher shuddered.


    Starting where the needle punctured, it was a disgustingly euphoric sensation that spread through him. Something that made his body feel light and head woozy. He scrambled backward.


    The man didn¡¯t follow. Calmly, he packed the glass bottle and both needles as he watched Asher pant and lean against the cell door.


    ¡°Next time, don¡¯t give me any fuss.¡± He snapped his bag closed. ¡°Now, get out of the way.¡±


    ¡°I was right,¡± Asher wheezed. ¡°You¡¯re trying to kill me.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense. Just give it ten minutes to circulate. If you¡¯d let me put it into your arm, it would¡¯ve been much faster. Now, move.¡±


    Asher glared at him, snarling. He couldn¡¯t produce fangs no matter how much he wanted to, but he could still do this much.


    The man rolled his eyes. Then he grabbed Asher by the shirt and carelessly tossed him aside before stepping through the door.


    ¡°Good boy. One last bit of advice. Choose the sword.¡±


    The door clicked behind him.


    Asher was sure the man had just killed him and he writhed in guilt and anger. He had to survive for Angel¡¯s sake, damn it! He slammed a fist into the floor and flinched when he felt it crack.


    Cautiously, he scooted over and rolled onto his stomach. So his nose was close to the spot he¡¯d just smacked.


    Fine lines spread across the surface of the flagstone.


    He touched it.


    Did he just do that? Stupid question but¡­


    Twenty minutes later, he was walking around his cell. Testing his steps cautiously and putting himself through a drill. Just to make sure his body was responding normally.


    Now that the first effects of the drug had worn off, he could feel an extra pulse of mana. What was that stuff? It had been an infusion of mana, not something a pharmacist could put together.


    Alchemy?


    It still couldn¡¯t be safe. There was a reason alchemy was outlawed by most countries and still practiced on the black market. It created an imbalance to aura that didn¡¯t exist in regular magic usage.


    Something that often would work on the surface, but had unintended consequences.


    Still, feeling it out, he could guess what this one was doing.


    With his other form suppressed, he couldn¡¯t access most of the gifts of that form. Particularly strength. He had more of it than the average human teenager, but far less than should¡¯ve been his.


    The drug was forcing open pathways that had been cursed closed years ago.


    It made him nervous. Once those pathways closed again, it was going to hit him like a hammer to the head.


    The cell door opened and he flinched. He hadn¡¯t heard anyone coming.


    ¡°You¡¯re up.¡±


    Asher nodded grimly. What choice did he have? At least they were allowing him to walk on his own and to go chainless.


    Still, he was surrounded by guards. All of them were waiting and watching for him to rebel. Some of them were stationed on the second floor of the corridor, looking down at him with small armed crossbows on their wrists.


    He looked down at the ground. Making himself as harmless as he could manage.


    The announcer told the crowd all about the Lycan, who was next up and his freeman opponent. At the barred gate, he had the perfect view of the cleanup crew taking away two bodies.


    Two.


    No one had won the last bout.


    He shuddered. The old, paralyzing fear was threatening to come back.


    He was glad Angel had disappeared. The Presence had reacted badly upon seeing him hurt and thrown into confinement. He was sure it wouldn¡¯t be happy with this either.


    He forced a smile. Yes, he was glad Angel had left.


    ¡°For Angel,¡± he murmured to himself when they opened the gate for him.


    ¡°The Lycan with the pretty face!¡±


    There was some laughter and a smattering of clapping. No one was taking the fifteen-year-old boy seriously. No one, he noticed, except his mistress. Lady Arnold was sitting in a noblewoman¡¯s box, away from the general stands below her.


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    Even from that distance, he could see her smirk.


    She fully expected to win. But she wasn¡¯t the one who¡¯d fixed the bouts.


    Who could have done that?


    ¡°And the Lycan¡¯s opponent, Beastmaster!¡±


    There was a significant increase in the crowd¡¯s roaring as a man strolled into the arena. Asher gritted his teeth.


    They had done their best to make sure it wasn¡¯t a fair fight. This man was taller than Asher by half. And he was sure he couldn¡¯t wrap his fingers around the man¡¯s biceps if he used both hands.


    The man raised a fist into the air and the crowd responded with a second wave of enthusiastic cheers.


    Maybe Lady Arnold wasn¡¯t expecting him to win. A well-placed bet against her champion would be acceptable. As long as she used other agents and hid what she was doing.


    Not that the odds would get her great returns. But maybe she had another deal that made the risk worth it?


    The announcer made no attempt to hurry Beastmaster along. The man theatrically stirred up the crowd every few steps until Asher was sure they were foaming at the mouth.


    A smirk turned up at the corner of his lips.


    Beastmaster mastering the beastly crowd. How ironic.


    Beastmaster noticed the smirk and decided it was time to stop playing games. He strolled so boldly toward Asher that Asher wondered if he intended to start by throwing his fists around.


    No matter how strong the drug made him, Asher was sure a blow from that fist would break bones.


    Warily, he took a step back and was relieved when a referee stepped between them.


    ¡°It¡¯s time to pick your weapons.¡±


    Asher was not surprised when the meat mountain snatched up a spiked club. It looked like the sort of thing a behemoth would use. As Asher looked through the weapons being offered, his eyes landed on a sword that looked to be about the right length.


    And didn¡¯t the man earlier say to pick a sword?


    When he tested it, it was not only the right length, but perfectly balanced.


    It was not a cheap sword. It had been dulled, and the handle was chipped to make it look old. But it was not cheap.


    Maybe¡­ maybe they really had intended to help him win?


    For the first time, real hope fluttered in his chest as he stepped away from the weapons rack. It squeaked and squealed as the attendants rolled it off the arena floor.


    ¡°You stand there,¡± instructed the referee. Pointing to a square on the flagstones.


    There was blood and sand soaking up the blood scattered all over the square. As though whoever had stood there last hadn¡¯t moved before being cut down.


    The referee didn¡¯t have time to tell Beastmaster where to stand before the beef mountain had already found his position. He gave Asher a smile that was meant to be a smirk, but was instead surprisingly devoid of malice.


    This is just a job for him, Asher realized. No emotional attachment at all.


    ¡°This is the qualifying round for the Lycan. If he survives, he¡¯ll receive a nickname and be added to the official roster,¡± the announcer boomed. She sounded almost giddy, high on all the blood already spilled. ¡°He¡¯ll also be housed in the arena and given all the perks of a competitor.¡±


    Laughter.


    Asher wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to know what the laughter meant.


    While the announcer kept the crowd entertained, the referee started talking to Asher again.


    ¡°Most bouts are to the death, but a disabling wound is also acceptable. Especially when both opponents are wounded. All you have to do is disable him.¡±


    The referee nodded to Beastman. Then he smiled.


    And this one was full of malice.


    But it wasn¡¯t directed at Asher. The referee¡¯s malice was all for Beastman. When he spoke it again, it was in a mutter Asher could barely hear. As though Beastman had a chance of overhearing ten feet away and with the overall noise.


    ¡°You¡¯ll get more attention from the crowd and more sponsors if you kill him.¡±


    What did he do to piss you off?


    Asher silently nodded that he understood, and the referee stepped back. Away from both contestants and back to his short tower on the side of the field.


    Tightening his grip on the sword handle, Asher was vaguely aware of the lack of pain in his palms. All the popped and bleeding blisters and all the sores were gone.


    Thank you, Angel.


    Somewhere, a gong reverberated throughout the arena, and Beastman sprang forward.


    Asher barely had time to dodge before the club came down with a sickening ¡®thunk¡¯ on the square flagstone. The stone splintered under the force of the blow, but Asher didn¡¯t look back.


    He was too busy running.


    As he ran, he scanned the arena for a defensible position. Ignoring how the announcer and the crowd laughed at his apparent cowardice.


    The best he could do was a referee tower. He dodged behind a leg just as Beastman caught up and swung again. The spikes in the club stuck momentarily in the tower''s leg. Asher whirled around the leg and swung at the man¡¯s arm.


    Beastman got the club free. In that jerky movement, the club flew into the path of Asher¡¯s attack. Effectively blocking it.


    Without pausing, Beastman twisted his club and smashed it downward, which drove Asher¡¯s blade into the ground.


    Asher barely ducked in time to avoid the man¡¯s fist as it immediately followed the last attack. Beastman once again hit the tower leg, making the whole thing shake.


    The referee yelled curses at them, but neither opponent was paying attention.


    Asher yanked his sword free and ran again.


    There was nowhere else to go! No cover and the tower had proved more an obstacle than a help.


    Grimly, he made a decision.


    His drug enhanced strength gave him a chance to outrun Beastman, giving him some space to stop running and spin around. Taking a fighting stance, he raised the sword. Waiting for the beef mountain to catch up.


    Beastman must¡¯ve recognized what Asher was doing, because he slowed and began circling the boy. Keeping a distance between them as he studied the change.


    Weaknesses, weaknesses!


    Asher was frantically studying the man, trying to find anything that could help him. He was just so big! Asher didn¡¯t even reach his shoulder, much less was tall enough to hit anything vital.


    I just need to disable him.


    Beastman finished his own inspection and charged, swinging low.


    Low for Beastman, not for Asher.


    Asher cursed aloud and fell on his back, the only way he could get low enough to dodge that swing. He immediately rolled, using Beastman¡¯s momentum as a pause in the fighting to get back to his feet.


    The roll took Asher behind Beastman. And while Beastman was gaining control over his club again, Asher rushed in. Aiming for the man¡¯s hamstring.


    It was a lucky strike. If he''s been just a little slower¡­


    Beastman made a sound of pain as one leg buckled and Asher danced back out of Beastman¡¯s reach.


    Unable to use one leg at all, Beastman landed on one knee. His face was now twisted in pain and he gripped the club in both hands. Unable to move, he now had to wait for Asher to come to him.


    Asher glanced at the referee towers. Why weren¡¯t they calling it?!

 Ep. 23 - Gotta name?

    The referee towers remained silent, and Asher realized with a sinking feeling that he now had to go on the offensive.


    He cursed again, adjusted his grip, and rushed in.


    Beastman parried his sword, nearly knocking it from his hands, and immediately swung out with a fist. Asher grunted in pain as the man¡¯s knuckles made contact. But Asher was far enough away that he didn¡¯t get the full impact.


    Still, his left arm went simi-numb.


    He fell back, resisting the urge to grab his shoulder.


    Beastman held up his club. The look in his eyes had changed¡­ And it reminded him forcefully of when Dace died.


    When his bodyguard and friend had trapped Asher in a bubble, he¡¯d had that same look in his eye.


    The look of someone who knew they were about to die.


    Maybe it was because of that memory that he didn¡¯t aim for the man¡¯s neck. Instead, he danced around the club¡¯s powerful swing and sunk his blade into Beastman¡¯s arm. Now unable to hold the club, it fell with a thud to the flagstones.


    With one arm and one leg disabled, a referee finally hit a gong.


    Suddenly, all the noises of the crowd rushed in on Asher. Boiling over him like a shockwave. How had he not noticed it before? He warily stepped away from Beastman, sword dripping blood as he looked around.


    Medics were rushing onto the arena floor. When they reached Beastman, they stopped to look at each other. Taking in that none of them were big enough to carry Beastman off the field.


    A decision was made.


    The crowd laughed and clapped when Beastman screamed under the agony of a quick healing to his leg.


    They then led him staggering from the floor.


    Meanwhile, the first referee had stomped up to Asher and nearly dragged the boy to another door. Disgustedly taking and tossing Asher¡¯s weapon aside as they went.


    ¡°Here.¡±


    The pissed off referee pushed Asher roughly toward two people waiting for him at the door. Then he stomped off to do whatever his job was in between bouts.


    ¡°You made it.¡±


    The woman of the pair spit to the side. Then continued to chew her tobacco as she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. ¡°This way, kid. Think you can handle guarding the door, Marcus?¡±


    ¡®Marcus¡¯ rolled his eyes and went back to glaring out at the arena.


    The woman waved for Asher to follow.


    ¡°My name¡¯s Zaria,¡± the woman introduced. She winked over her shoulder. ¡°Or Silver Streak, if you prefer. You¡¯re good! I mean, damn near knight good. I''m going to have fun when it''s you and me later.¡±


    Asher grunted. Not sure how to take this woman¡¯s attitude.


    ¡°Got a name, kid?¡±


    Asher flinched.


    In three years, no one had ever asked his name. They¡¯d always given him some sort of vulgar nickname. And after half a second of thought, he realized he couldn¡¯t use his own.


    ¡°Gray,¡± he mumbled.


    ¡°Gray? That sounds like a slave name.¡±


    Asher gave her a look, and she held up her hands.


    ¡°Got it, got it. Well, you¡¯ll get something better shortly. For now-¡±


    She kicked open a door, startling four people huddled around a small table inside. The room was small too, giving Asher an instant feeling of being cramped with six people in that space.


    ¡°Most people just walk in, Zaria.¡±


    ¡°Zaria, if you made me lose my roll-!¡± blustered a small man with a red mustache.


    ¡°Hello, everyone! This here¡¯s Gray. Our newest newbie. One of you show him to his room. And put all that away before the boss sees it.¡±


    One of the other men stood up. Frowning with visible worry. ¡°Beast?¡±


    ¡°Infirmary.¡±


    The man visibly relaxed in relief and slumped back into his chair. As though he hadn¡¯t just been warned, he picked up the dice.


    ¡°Hey! That was my roll!¡±


    Zaria rolled her eyes in exasperation when all four of them turned their attention back to the game.


    ¡°Since all of you are jumping up at once, Ian, you forfeit. Now you have the honor of showing the boy to his room. Go!¡±


    Grumbling, red mustache shoved the table as he stood. Then he stomped toward the far wall and motioned for Asher to follow him through the door.


    Slowly, Asher followed.


    Ian showed him to yet another cell-like room. Then left it unlocked as he rushed back to his game.


    For an instant, Asher just stood there. Then, as though all the events of the last hour came crashing down on him at once, he collapsed to his knees next to the bed. Burying his face into his arms.


    He didn¡¯t know if he wanted to laugh or faint.


    He laughed.


    Hard, loud, and until his stomach ached.


    ***


    ¡°You¡¯re completely dry.¡±


    Em looked down at the low quality emerald in her hand and then back up at the haggard, irritable man sitting across from her.


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    ¡°Dry?¡±


    The man was impatiently putting away other stones and portable magic circles. The magic circles resembled wooden coasters. They clinked as he put them in a drawstring bag.


    ¡°Yes, dry.¡± He pulled the bag closed. Then realized he¡¯d forgotten the rock in Em¡¯s hand and took it from her. Opening the bag again.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    He pulled the bag closed again.


    ¡°Your mana is gone, gir- I mean, miss.¡±


    Em stiffened in alarm. Then she leaned forward, a little desperately. ¡°Gone? All gone?! So I won¡¯t be able to do magic ever again?!¡±


    The man sighed and sat back. Rubbing his aching forehead. ¡°Calm down, Miss Emmaline. It¡¯ll come back. What on earth did you do to lose it?¡±


    Relieved, Em slumped in her chair.


    What had she done? Oh, right.


    Prince.


    Her dreams were getting to a point that she was starting to get the hang of them. The dreams where she was Emmaline were starting to feel real. As real as if Em in the hospital had disappeared entirely.


    It scared her.


    If she thought about it. And most of the time, it was just easier not to think about it.


    And the dreams about Prince felt like dreams. The way dreams are supposed to feel like.


    ¡°Well,¡± said the man irritably. ¡°Tell me.¡±


    ¡°Mister Kimball, is it possible to use mana in your sleep?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± The man tapped the table and grimaced. ¡°Tell me about it.¡±


    For only a split second, Em thought about not telling the whole truth. However¡­


    Telling the truth hadn¡¯t been a liability for her. In fact, it had been fun. People never expected it and it was fun watching their faces as they decided whether she was lying or not.


    Of course, there were things she kept to herself. Her desire not to be locked up in a Temple psychiatric ward had grown. Along with her sense of the world being more and more real.


    So she just told Kimball about the latest dream. The most important parts, anyway. How he was hurt but had to fight.


    And about pouring everything she had into him.


    Kimball tapped the table as he listened, his lips pressing more and more grimly together.


    When she was done, he sighed. Tapping his forehead with his fist.


    ¡°Healing,¡± he muttered. ¡°It could be a lot worse.¡±


    ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯d dreamt about fire, you could¡¯ve woken up to your room in ruins. Or not woken up at all. I¡¯ll have to put wards on your room and your bedding.¡±


    He pulled a notebook and pencil out of his pocket and scribbled something into it.


    ¡°Anything else?¡±


    ¡°When will my mana come back?¡±


    He put the notebook away.


    ¡°Hard to say. If you were just low, it would¡¯ve been a little sleep and food. Half a day at most. But it''s different when you¡¯ve completely depleted yourself.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because going dry actually damages the aura receptors in your chakras. Do it too many times and you can break your connection to aura completely. I¡¯ll need to make something for you so you can¡¯t do that¡­¡±


    He pulled out the notebook again.


    Looking even more tired and irritable than before.


    ¡°Why does it damage them?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Anyway, that means our lesson is done for the day. You know all the basic theory and we can¡¯t move forward until you have mana to use.¡±


    He stood up and Em quickly slipped out of her chair. The sounds of their chairs echoed oddly in the empty library.


    ¡°But when will I get it back?¡±


    ¡°Depends on how damaged it is. No, Miss Emmaline, don''t push. I can¡¯t answer that question. It could be a day, it could be three weeks. If you¡¯ve done this a lot, it may not come back at all. Do you understand?¡±


    Em nodded glumly.


    As far as she remembered, she¡¯d only done it once. She¡¯d just have to wait.


    ¡°Good. I have other work to do, so if you don¡¯t have any other questions-¡±


    ¡°Wait! I do have another question.¡±


    Kimball Rune sighed. ¡°Yes?¡±


    Em lifted the edges of her dress to display her feet. Today, she was wearing different shoes on each foot. It was uncomfortable because the soles were slightly different for each pair.


    ¡°Loki has been playing tricks on me. He stole my shoes so I have to wear them like this,¡± she told him. ¡°How do you get a god to stop playing tricks?¡±


    The man¡¯s face blanked.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s been doing other things, too. Yesterday, he put a mouse monster in my closet then made it disappear. And this morning, when I was playing ball with the other kids, he turned my water into brine. How do I get him to stop?¡±


    ¡°How do you know it''s Loki and not another youngster playing pranks?¡±


    Em scowled.


    ¡°He whispers in my ear every time. He¡¯s so annoying! You¡¯d think he¡¯s a boggart instead of a god. Or a five-year-old.¡±


    Kimball¡¯s face paled, and he covered Em¡¯s mouth. Looking around as if he expected the god of mischief to be grinning at them from a bookshelf.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t insult the gods, Emmaline.¡±


    Em pulled back, still scowling. ¡°But he¡¯s bothering me!¡±


    She didn¡¯t mean to whine. But she didn¡¯t correct it once she realized she was whining. After all, it was so annoying!


    Kimball looked troubled. Silently, he wrung the string on his bag as he turned the problem over in his mind. Not sure if Em was exaggerating or if this was a legitimate concern.


    Damn it! He wasn¡¯t a priest.


    Adding the little girl¡¯s tutelage to his schedule was hard enough without adding complications from the gods.


    He comforted himself that it likely wasn¡¯t a god. They rarely interfered in people¡¯s lives so directly. What was more likely was it was some talented prankster who had also managed to throw their voice somehow.


    Harassment, yes.


    God-like powers, no.


    ¡°I¡¯ll speak with the Baron,¡± he said heavily. ¡°If it is a god, you¡¯ll need a priest.¡±


    If it isn¡¯t, Kimball will probably have yet another job to do. Since he was the only one who could track down someone pranking the girl with magic.


    Lucky him.


    ¡°Thank you. Do you have a magic stone I can have?¡±


    ¡°A¡­ what?¡±


    Em grinned at his expression. The abrupt change in subject threw him off and he looked instantly lost.


    ¡°A magic stone. I found something in the attic I want to try using. Do you have one?¡±


    Warily, he put his hands behind his back. Momentarily hiding his drawstring bag.


    ¡°What is this ¡®thing¡¯?¡±


    Em told him. And told him what she wanted to do with it.


    He raised an eyebrow, snorted, and opened the drawstring bag again. It must¡¯ve had a space expanding spell on it, because it was too small for what he¡¯d already put inside. And now he pulled out four stones of different sizes.


    They glowed a sickly green.


    Cheerfully, Em picked the one she thought was about the right size.


    ¡°Return it to me when it''s depleted. Now are you done?¡±


    ¡°Yes. You can go now, Mister Kimball.¡±


    The man grumbled as he spun on his heel and marched from the room. ¡°Work, work, work, work¡­¡±


    He needs a vacation, thought Em as she studied the little stone. Then she tucked it into her pocket and left the library.


    It had been a week since her conversation with Flint and agreeing to learn more healing. It was also a week since her last Prince dream. So her mana could return any day now.


    Right?

 Ep. 24 - Going to the Border

    She hoped so.


    For the last week, she¡¯d settled into a sort of routine.


    Exercise, breakfast, exploring, lunch, more exercise, and dinner. And starting today, she added lessons with Mister Kimball¡­ Except that didn¡¯t go so well. So she supposed she¡¯d go back to the other routine for a while.


    In the morning, she¡¯d wake up and go to the training field. Not the yard where the knights trained, but the field where just about everyone ran laps in the morning.


    Even the women helping in the kitchen were required to rotate. So they could do the enforced exercise without burning anything.


    It made Em laugh.


    She didn¡¯t know Flint¡¯s reasoning, but now she understood why he hadn¡¯t batted an eye at suggesting she do physical training. It seemed he required it from everyone who could.


    For most adults, it was just running and stretching. A few did other exercises, but most just did the required laps and went back to work.


    Em stayed on the field for another hour after most of the adults left. Because at that point, the other children would form a game of ball.


    The first day Em came back from one of these games, Tracy nearly cried. Em¡¯s horrible pink and white dress was ruined. Which had been Em¡¯s plan when she put it on without telling Tracy she was doing her first day of exercise.


    Goodbye ugly frills! Next time, she was going to pick the dress style.


    And to her delight, the next morning Tracy was prepared with an armful of old boys'' clothes.


    Pants!


    Em had to be creative in ruining the other two horrible dresses. Since she couldn¡¯t trick Tracy into letting her wear them to physical training anymore.


    The first one, the blue, ripped down the front while trying to climb a tree. And when Tracy scolded her and told her she had to wear the yellow one inside, she started exploring the castle.


    And found the old attics. Which were, amazingly, still stuffed with several centuries'' worth of old junk.


    When she came back with grime all over the light yellow fabric, Tracy did cry this time.


    Making Em feel bad for trying to ruin them on purpose. After all, she was eleven. She was going to just grow out of those uncomfortable, ugly frills in a few months.


    With the three ugly dresses gone, that left her with only her one black dress and the boys'' clothes. And as time went on, she found herself more and more in the boys'' clothes. Especially since Flint didn¡¯t seem to care what she wore.


    But not today.


    Today, she wanted to make an impression. First on Kimball.


    Now on to Flint.


    ¡­ Maybe she should¡¯ve kept at least one of those dresses nice¡­


    She found her brother in the knight¡¯s training yard. No matter how busy he was with administrative affairs, he always came out before breakfast and after lunch to run through his own routines and to spar.


    It surprised Em to find out Flint was not the best knight on the field.


    In all the stories she¡¯d ever read, the leader of a group of knights, or whoever was in charge, was always the best at everything.


    But not Flint.


    While she waited for him to finish the sparring sessions, she counted five times where another knight disarmed him. And each time, he demanded a review and quietly listened while the other knight told him what he did wrong.


    Then they¡¯d have a second spar in which the first knight would eventually lead him into the same situation where he¡¯d messed up. Sometimes right away, sometimes after it had been long enough to distract him.


    Three times, he successfully blocked the move that had disarmed him before. Twice, he was unsuccessful.


    And whether he won or lost, each time he finished a match, he bowed his head and thanked the knight.


    It struck Em as bizarre behavior.


    She¡¯d never seen someone in a leadership position take feedback like that.


    Finally, he was done and left the field. Em scrambled off the bench she¡¯d been waiting on and ran after him. Impulsively, she grabbed his hand. More to get his attention than anything else.


    And nearly made him trip mid-step in surprise.


    She giggled.


    ¡°Em.¡± Warily, he looked at her and down at his hand. She could see him wondering if he should pull away or not.


    She squeezed.


    ¡°Can I talk to you?¡±


    ¡°If you can keep up.¡±


    He must¡¯ve decided not to pull his hand free because he returned her grip as he started walking. It made her feel strange. Holding the hand of the brother she¡¯d been so afraid of.


    She noticed with amusement that he shortened his stride just enough so she could keep up.


    ¡°I heard you¡¯re going to the border tomorrow.¡±


    That could mean several things. Usually, it meant he was going to fight monsters coming through a mountain pass in the north. Or rebels to the west. However, this time she meant the southern border. Back toward the Cyrin Empire and Elyana, the capital.


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    ¡°Yes?¡±


    She squeezed his hand and looked up with her biggest puppy dog eyes.


    ¡°Can I come? Please?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    The answer was so firm and flat that for a moment it tripped her up. What was this?! She¡¯d found with nearly everyone else, all she had to do was look cute and they practically tripped over themselves to accommodate her.


    Though, with Tracy, she had to work extra hard.


    Maybe it was like that?


    ¡°Please?¡±


    ¡°Em, I said no already. Drop it.¡±


    ¡°But, why not?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a two-day trip by carriage. And we¡¯re not taking a carriage, we¡¯re taking horses. That shortens the trip by half a day, but you¡¯re still in no physical shape for it. And you¡¯re a child. You have no part in our official business, anyway. You¡¯ll just get in the way.¡±


    Wham, wham, wham.


    She pouted and glared up at him.


    ¡°I can do it! And I won¡¯t get in the way.¡±


    ¡°No, Emmaline.¡±


    She begged, pleaded, and pouted all the way to his office. Flustering him several times. But the man was as rocky as his name. He didn¡¯t budge. Not one inch.


    By the time he firmly left her outside the office door, she had won nothing.


    Fine. Maybe she just had to soften him up a bit.


    She went to her room and began her other project.


    By now, she had a large collection of the pretty rocks piled in a large basket by her bed. Dozens of blues, purples, greens, pinks, clear whites, yellows, and oranges. With a smattering of red.


    It was like someone had mined and then dumped thousands of semi-precious stones in the area.


    Of course, she still had to look for them. The main color in the area was gray (like most places). But there was still a lot more color than anywhere she¡¯d ever been.


    None of them were polished, which was a shame.


    She picked out five that were as big as her fists and put them on her little bedside table. Then got on her knees and pulled out a flat, square box from under her bed. The one she¡¯d found in the attic.


    At first, she¡¯d been excited because she thought she¡¯d finally found something to make a rock garden with. After promising Flint she¡¯d make something for his mantelpiece, she¡¯d been dismayed to realize how few options she had for doing anything with her rocks.


    A rock garden was the best idea she could come up with.


    And that was just short of pathetic because it was only a step away from putting the plain, unpolished rocks up on the mantle by themselves.


    Then she couldn¡¯t find a basket or shoe box or anything to put it in.


    So an old box no one was using was welcome.


    Until she¡¯d opened it and realized the tool inside was a much better solution to her problem than the box.


    It looked just like a wood burner from the real world. Except, when she asked around, she found it was primarily for stone and metal (though she could use it for wood if she wanted to). A piece of equipment that was old and worth 50,000 zen. Which was roughly what a commoner would make in two years.


    For her last few years as Em, she hadn¡¯t been able to do much more than sit around. So until her hands could no longer hold anything, she experimented with different art mediums.


    She wasn¡¯t amazing at any of them. But no one would mistake a dog for a potato when she drew it.


    First, she popped her new magic stone into the tool. Exactly like a battery.


    Then she smoothed the surfaces of her rocks by burning away a layer. Not the whole rock, otherwise she¡¯d be there all day for just one of them. Just a space where she could draw an image.


    Next, she burned the words she wanted on each stone. Courage, virtue, love, hope, and justice.


    She could do more, but that was good for now.


    And lastly, each of them got a little symbol or scene to decorate it.


    This was where she got lost in the process. Wrapping vines with swords hanging from them around Justice. A flock of doves flying around hope. Virtue growing out of the ground like a tree¡­


    She was startled when Tracy knocked.


    ¡°Miss Emmaline, it¡¯s time for dinner.¡±


    ¡°Already?!¡±


    She glanced in dismay at the window. The sun was getting low, which meant she was running out of time to convince Flint to take her with him. If she didn¡¯t convince him tonight, then she wouldn¡¯t have time to pack.


    ¡°Is Flint downstairs already?¡±


    ¡°Not that I saw.¡±


    Em scooped up the three finished rocks and bolted around Tracy.


    ¡°Wait! Miss Emmaline!¡±


    ¡°Meet you downstairs!¡±


    She ran until she was outside of Flint¡¯s office door. Panting hard. Playing ball and running around was helping with her stamina, but she still felt winded too soon.


    She knocked.


    ¡°Come in.¡±


    Flint didn¡¯t look up from his paperwork as Em opened the door and peeked in. When he still didn¡¯t look up, she stepped inside and pushed the door closed.


    Solemnly, she walked up to his desk. Then waited as he finished what he was doing.


    Finally, he signed and put the paper aside.


    ¡°What can I do for you, Em?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s time for dinner.¡±


    ¡°So I¡¯ve been told.¡±


    She paused. Then held up one of her rocks, putting on her brightest and most winning smile.


    ¡°I brought you gifts!¡±


    Flint raised an eyebrow and inwardly Em grumbled. Could you at least pretend to smile?


    ¡°Rocks again?¡±


    ¡°Not just any rocks!¡± She put the first one in front of him, twisting it around so he could see the flattened portion at the front. ¡°Take a look!¡±


    Obligingly, he did so. Em felt a little smug when both his eyebrows shot up and he moved the rock further into the light so he could see better. Then he put it down and accepted the next one for inspection.


    ¡°Well done,¡± he said finally. After looking at the third one. ¡°What did you use to make these?¡±


    As Em explained, Flint folded his hands and rested his chin on the back of them.


    An odd sense of warmth wrapped around Em as she watched his face.


    Flint rarely smiled. His face rarely changed expressions by more than a few quirks. And sometimes she sensed his body language when he was impatient for her to be done and ¡®move along.¡¯


    But sometimes it was like this.


    Where he was so focused on her, she felt like she was the most important thing in the world in that second.


    Her story ended too soon, and she saw the corner of his mouth raise just a little.


    ¡°Had I known such treasures were upstairs, I would have explored it myself. Perhaps we should go together sometime?¡±


    Her eyes widened. ¡°Really!? But you¡¯re so busy. Can you do that?¡±


    ¡°I can make time. How about this coming rest day? I should be back by then. And if not, the next rest day.¡±


    Em started. In her childish excitement, she¡¯d forgotten why she came. But now¡­ She wasn¡¯t sure how to approach the subject. Well, direct has worked for her very well so far.


    ¡°Can I please come with you?¡±


    That ghost of a smile vanished instantly.


    ¡°No.¡±

 Ep. 25 - Tantrum

    ¡°But-¡±


    Flint stood up and held out a hand to her. ¡°It¡¯s time for supper.¡±


    All through supper, Em would slip in the request. Again and again and again.


    Even though Flint eventually looked exhausted by her efforts, he never gave in. After Ralph passed on words of sympathy from himself and others (people who knew what it was like to be hounded by a determined child), she reached her own breaking point.


    With a screech, she ran from the table. In a full-blown tantrum, she went up to her room and threw herself on the bed.


    I¡¯m acting like a child, she thought as she pounded her pillow.


    Well, in this body and in my coma, I am a child, darn it!


    She pounded and pounded. Yelling into her pillow and kicking her legs.


    Until she was exhausted.


    Then she curled her legs up to her chest and held them. Blinking back tears of frustration. And shame.


    She couldn¡¯t remember a time as Em that she¡¯d ever thrown a tantrum like that.


    Not when she was little and not when she just wished Mom would come home that night. And not when she found out she was sick and wouldn¡¯t get better.


    And over this?


    Of course, Emmaline was different. Em had been borrowing some of Emmaline¡¯s tricks, which had worked very well for the little girl before.


    What had Em done wrong?


    It was confusing.


    Emmaline was not above doing whatever it took to get what she wanted. And Em¡­ Em was realizing how much she¡¯d regressed into that little girl and had allowed herself to become a burden. Purposefully become a burden.


    And where was Tracy?


    Usually, her maid would have come and fussed over her. Trying to get her to feel better.


    Maybe it was a good thing she didn¡¯t come. A just punishment for Em allowing herself to act like a spoiled little brat.


    Feeling alone, abandoned, and ashamed, silent tears leaked out of Em¡¯s eyes and she curled up as hard as she could. She wanted to pull the blanket over her head. But getting up long enough to pull it out from under her seemed like too much work.


    It was dark. The dark would have to do.


    She was beginning to doze when she heard the door creak open.


    ¡°Tracy?¡±


    She was ashamed of the little spark of hope that maybe someone still cared about her. She should be punished, even if it was self punishment. But¡­


    Then she blinked blankly at the person who came in, carrying a lamp.


    He put it on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed. Em scrambled to sit up, wiping the remains of tears and snot on the back of her hand. Not looking at him.


    The man said nothing, letting the awkward silence continue.


    When she finally peeked up at him, he hesitantly held open his arms.


    Tears came back in a gush as she eagerly accepted his offer. Throwing herself at him with a little sob.


    For a moment, he just held her as she sniffled and occasionally hiccuped.


    ¡°I just wanted to-to see for my-myself what you were going to do.¡±


    ¡°To do?¡±


    ¡°That Sucket m-man. I wanted-wanted to see-¡±


    ¡°You could have asked.¡±


    She sniffled. ¡°No one tells the truth.¡±


    Even Maddie. Maddie would tell her everything was fine. And then drink for half the night while staring at medical bills she couldn''t pay.


    Em wasn¡¯t stupid.


    ¡°I wanted to see for myself.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°And I wanted to-to see how L-Laisha and her daddy were doing.¡±


    ¡°Laisha?¡±


    Em sniffled her way through the story. About how the child had run in front of her carriage and her daddy offering to take both their punishments.


    She peeked at his face. Wanting to see his reaction to her decision about letting the pair go.


    He didn¡¯t react. Just watched her with his usual, unreadable expression.


    As a final plea on her behalf, she said, ¡°And I need to see a priest.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Kimball told me about that. No, you still may not come.¡±


    She¡¯d already stopped herself from asking, but being headed off made her flinch. With a sigh, she dropped her head against his shoulder.


    Tracy and Maddie would have stroked her hair and rocked her. Murmuring soothing words. Flint was too awkward. His whole body was stiff with the unfamiliarity of trying to comfort a child.


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    She giggled.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never done this before, have you?¡±


    ¡°Not once.¡±


    She giggled again and rubbed her nose into his shoulder. He smelled nice. Not like he¡¯d been drowned in cologne, but like he¡¯d spent time outside and with paper.


    It shouldn¡¯t have smelled nice. But¡­ this was¡­ comforting.


    ***


    Flint was careful as he put Em to bed. Perhaps he should send in the maid to get the child in her nightshirt? He wasn¡¯t sure what to do about that.


    For a moment, he looked down at her sleeping face. It was puffy from crying, but she had a small smile hovering around her lips. He reached out to touch her hair, hesitated, and dropped his hand.


    Without looking back, he picked up the lamp and left the room.


    When he left the next morning, it was before the sun rose.


    If he had asked himself why he hadn¡¯t waited for the sunrise, he would¡¯ve had to admit his cowardice. He told people no and what to do all day long. He¡¯d never before had such a determined adversary.


    But if he gave in now, he knew he¡¯d give in for the rest of his life.


    And that was good neither for Em nor for him.


    Still, he wasn¡¯t unreasonable. If she¡¯d given him a good reason for the fuss, he would¡¯ve been willing to make a compromise.


    He wasn¡¯t sure why she felt she needed to watch the arrest so badly. And he could have Ralph or someone else from the escort find out about the child, Laisha.


    The thing that truly concerned him was her claim about Loki.


    When Kimball told him what Em said, he¡¯d called Tracy to ask her about it. The presence of a god shouldn¡¯t be taken lightly.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she¡¯d said after a moment''s reflection. ¡°Miss Emmaline has been having strange things happening.¡±


    He meant to question her about what those ¡®strange things¡¯ were. But there was something about her troubled expression that kept him quiet. He knew from experience that sometimes people said things you needed to know, or didn¡¯t expect, if you gave them room to say it.


    ¡°Sir, I don¡¯t think she¡¯s lying.¡±


    ¡°I never said she was.¡±


    Though he thought it probable that she was noticing a small bad luck streak and attributing it to the god. As opposed to truly having trouble with the god.


    Unaware of his thoughts, Tracy continued.


    ¡°No, there¡¯s something else.¡±


    Then she told him a strange story. Em had accused ¡®the young master Felix¡¯ (he didn¡¯t correct her) of killing her parents. And that not only had Loki told her about their deaths, but had also told her if Felix wasn¡¯t dead within a month, then Loki was lying.


    Felix had been dead within a month.


    Flint convulsively clenched his fists under the desk and stared off to the side.


    Felix.


    His brother had made a mess of the barony, embezzled where he could, invested what little funds were left in ridiculous ventures, and nearly sold Em off to a man Flint would happily execute if given the chance.


    And there might be more?


    Damn it!


    He would have rubbed his forehead against a coming headache if the maid were not watching.


    ¡°Thank you for telling me,¡± he said politely. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡±


    If Loki was indeed mucking around with his little sister, he needed to do something about it.


    He was tempted to take comfort because it was Loki and not another god showing interest. Of all the gods, Loki was the one most likely to take an interest simply out of boredom. Any of the others would spell dire undercurrents.


    However, if Felix had really arranged the murder of two people¡­


    And did it on top of having enchanted weapons that even kings would have difficulty finding¡­


    There was enough rot to make him worry about what else was happening. And who else might be involved.


    Maybe it was time to send a message back to the capital. See if his people had come up with any leads on the weapons. And have them look into the possible murder.


    He could already feel the strain on his budget.


    Thank the gods the investment Lady Madeline suggested to him was now sending returns.


    He was not a business man of any sort. He would not have looked at the investment on his own. And to make the investment, he had used his small, personal funds. Before his finances began to fall apart.


    At the time, it was more to humor her than because he had enough experience to know what she was talking about. And not knowing how bad things would get, he hadn¡¯t had a use for those personal funds.


    Now it was a blessing he couldn¡¯t do without.


    He thought about all of this during the long ride to the southern border of his March.


    If he¡¯d gone at a normal pace, he would have arrived around noon the next day. But because of his agitation, he pushed the horses and his men as fast as they could go. Without galloping the whole way.


    The only people who noticed their arrival were a pair of shepherds on the outskirts. They were hanging out by a stone wall as Flint called a halt to his men.


    He debated briefly about heading to the manor right away. But, unless Reeve Sucket made a run for it, they had plenty of time to take care of their business the next day.


    ¡°We¡¯ll camp here,¡± he told his men flatly.


    No one objected. Even though it would have been well within his rights as the heir apparent to demand lodgings.


    Most villages in Silver Vale March had a small camping area just outside the borders. Besides the inns within. The Empire was less accommodating in that way, forcing travelers to either stay at the various inns or find their own campgrounds.


    It made setting up camp easy, despite the night hours.


    After everything was set up and a cold meal of bread and cheese passed around, Flint wandered off. His mind still racing with his thoughts of the day.


    He leaned on the stone fence line. Staring unseeingly at the pasture beyond.


    ¡°Hey, you!¡±


    He turned his chin just enough to see one of the two shepherds striding toward him.


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°What business do you have here?¡±


    The man was emanating so much hostility that Flint imagined he could smell it. And by now, the shepherd had spoken enough that Flint could identify his accent.


    A Silver Vale native. A Lycan.


    ¡°We¡¯re here to see the Reeve. Is there something I ought to know before we do?¡±


    ¡°Jay,¡± whispered the second shepherd, grabbing the other man¡¯s arm. ¡°Let¡¯s just go. Before the overseers come.¡±


    ¡®Jay¡¯ shook off the other man¡¯s hands. And marched right up to Flint. Now only the fence stood between them.


    ¡°You filthy humans think you can take whatever you want! Our land, our homes, even our children! But one day, you¡¯ll regret it.¡±


    The other man bared his fangs, which flashed white in the moonlight.


    Flint didn¡¯t flinch.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re right.¡±


    Flint hadn¡¯t meant it as a provocation, but the man took it as one. With a growl, he lashed out with clawed hands. Flint swerved back to put more distance between them and grabbed his sword handle.


    The other shepherd intervened before his friend could vault over the wall. The second man grabbed Jay around the middle with one hand and one of his wrists with the other. Yanking him.


    ¡°Let go of me, you bastard! I¡¯ll make these wretches pay for taking my child! I said let go!¡±

 Ep. 26 - Arrest

    While Jay spouted a stream of curses at his friend, the other man bowed his head as best he could.


    ¡°Apologies, sir. My friend has just had a very bad day. I wish you a good night.¡±


    Flint didn¡¯t move, hand still on his sword handle as he watched the pair leave. One dragging the other.


    Even after they were out of sight, Flint continued to stare thoughtfully after them.


    The next day, after they¡¯d eaten and broken camp, they rode straight through the small village and to the Reeve¡¯s house. It was easy to spot, since it was both the biggest and the best maintained.


    Their arrival caused some confusion.


    Understandably. They were twelve big men, all armed but none in uniform. And no other obvious identification.


    Before dismounting, Flint took a good look around. Noting the guards who moved in to surround the twelve newcomers, the servant sent to inform the Reeve of their arrival, and the prosperity of the Reeve¡¯s property in comparison to the rest of the village.


    His eye was drawn to a small child being forced to carry a bucket nearly as big as she was. She couldn¡¯t have been older than three or four, and was struggling to drag the container from the well to the building.


    There were tear streaks down her dirty face that reminded him of Em from the other night.


    ¡°What¡¯s your business, stranger?¡±


    The leader of the oncoming guards correctly figured out who was in charge and strode up to Flint¡¯s horse. Looking up at Flint was an awkward position, but the man managed to look threatening, anyway.


    Flint¡¯s horse shifted in the unwanted proximity of the guard. He patted the creature¡¯s neck reassuringly. This horse was skittish compared to his favorite, which was still recuperating in the capital.


    ¡°We¡¯re here to see the Reeve.¡± Flint¡¯s tone was mild.


    ¡°You can¡¯t just show up without notice! I¡¯ll need to see your identification.¡±


    Ralph dismounted and got into the other man¡¯s face. ¡°If I were you, I would back off.¡±


    ¡°Who are you to threaten me?! I¡¯m an employee of the Reeve.¡±


    Ralph tried to look offended, but he was grinning too cheekily to manage. ¡°And who do you think I work for?¡±


    ¡°A drifter by the looks of it.¡±


    Flint almost looked down at himself. Drifter, huh? They hadn¡¯t been trying to make a visual impression, but he hadn¡¯t thought they looked that bad. Perhaps he should have packed a uniform.


    That was something Lady Madeline would have thought of. And Ralph tried to advise him on.


    He¡¯ll pay more attention to Ralph¡¯s advice.


    ¡°Coming from a scumbag slave driver.¡±


    The guard had enough of Ralph¡¯s cheerful defiance and swung at him. Ralph was a trained knight, not a random guard with little experience. He easily ducked under the man¡¯s swing, grabbed his arm, and twisted him around.


    Pinning his arm behind his back.


    ¡°Drifter or no, you should be wise enough to assess your opponent correctly.¡±


    ¡°Why you-!¡±


    The man let off a stream of the foulest curses. Which only got worse when Ralph chuckled his amusement.


    ¡°Enough, Captain,¡± said Flint dryly.


    ¡°But he¡¯s just a bunny, my lord! Can¡¯t I play with him a while longer?¡±


    ¡°I said enough.¡±


    With a dramatic sigh, Ralph pushed the other man away, and the man stumbled to his knees.


    At that moment, the front door of the small manor opened, and Avery Sucket stepped outside. His face was a thundercloud of anger.


    Until he froze.


    While Sucket was taking in that the Baron (and soon-to-be Marquis) was on his doorstep, Flint¡¯s eyes moved to the young woman standing behind the other man. There was a swelling handprint on her face and her eyes were filled with unshed tears


    She stared fixedly ahead.


    Flint gritted his teeth and swung down from the saddle.


    Which was the signal for everyone to dismount.


    Sucket recovered and pasted on a beaming smile. He held out his arms.


    ¡°Baron Grimshaw! How good of you to visit my humble abode! Have you had breakfast? We should talk over a meal. Sherrie, go tell-¡±


    Flint cut him off, snapping his fingers at the knights.


    ¡°We¡¯re not here to visit.¡±


    The knights moved in and two of them seized Sucket by the arms.


    ¡°What¡¯s the meaning of this?! Unhand me!¡±


    ¡°Avery Sucket,¡± said Flint coldly, ¡°you¡¯re under arrest for grand purloination of March resources, falsification of manifests and March inventory, misappropriation of supplies -¡±


    ¡°I was appointed by the Crown Prince himself! You can¡¯t just waltz in here-¡±


    ¡°Profiteering on March property, conversion of public goods for private enrichment-¡±


    ¡°The Crown Prince will hang you for treason if you arrest me, you bastard! Do you want to lose your title, is that it?!¡±


    ¡°Tampering with the royal tally, fabrication of March stockpiles, dissemination of false manifests, and violation of March edict on subject treatment. ¡°


    ¡°You can¡¯t charge me with the last one,¡± Sucket flared. ¡°I upheld the laws of the Empire. There is no law to protect animals from being treated like animals. Not even if the Baron demands it.¡±


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    Flint looked to Ralph, who nodded.


    ¡°Very well. It will be changed to unwarranted supremacy over March subjects.¡±


    ¡°You-!¡±


    ¡°The rest will hold up. At least enough to kick you out of the territory and send a warning to the others.¡± Flint waved a hand. ¡°Someone pack this man a bag and saddle his horse. He will be escorted to the border before noon.¡±


    To the border and then to the capital. He nodded to the four knights whose job it would be to do the escorting.


    He hoped they thought of packing uniforms.


    ¡°Wait for me to revise the charges. You.¡± He pointed to the young woman who¡¯d followed Sucket out. And who¡¯d been watching the proceedings with wide eyes and a hanging mouth. ¡°Show me to this man¡¯s office.¡±


    ¡°Y-yes, si-my lord.¡±


    He ignored Sucket¡¯s yelling and raging at him from behind as he and Ralph followed the girl.


    Inside was just what he expected from a proud and wasteful man.


    While the rest of his responsibility was barely surviving, Sucket had put all his funds toward extravagance. By either maintaining what was already here (perhaps the previous owner had also liked such fancy surroundings). Or importing and updating it himself.


    There was no sign at all that a war had gone on around this building. And Flint doubted it was due to luck.


    Once inside the office, the girl hovered by the door while Flint banged around the desk. Looking for paper and writing utensils.


    Sucket even had fountain pens!


    They were three times as expensive as quills and ink. And the man had been claiming he didn¡¯t have enough funds to properly supply his reeve. How dare he beg for more!


    At least it¡¯ll cut down on the time it took for Flint to revise the charges.


    Cursing inwardly, he sat down to write while Ralph began pulling open drawers and investigating document piles. The knight snorted and tossed one document in front of Flint.


    ¡°You can add Trafficking of March Subjects.¡±


    ¡°That was allowed for a year after occupation began.¡±


    ¡°Check the date.¡±


    Flint did and immediately set his teeth grinding. It was dated only a month ago.


    ¡°I¡¯ll add it to the charges, though I suspect the Crown Prince will throw it out as inconsequential.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be consequential,¡± said Ralph cheerfully. He began sorting documents into two piles. One to be used as evidence. The other to be examined more closely in case he missed evidence. ¡°All it needs to be is overwhelming. Enough so that Prince Thiago can¡¯t turn a blind eye.¡±


    Flint grunted.


    He could¡¯ve avoided the whole drama altogether if he¡¯d been allowed to appoint his own officials. That won¡¯t happen until after he officially receives the title.


    He was halfway through the revised charges when he realized the girl hadn¡¯t left.


    Of course, he hadn¡¯t been fully unaware. And Ralph probably didn¡¯t forget at all. But his attention was drawn fully onto her again when she shifted and the floor creaked.


    It was very loud in the quiet office.


    The girl froze. Staring terrified at the board that had given her away.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±


    She flinched at the sound of Flint¡¯s voice.


    ¡°Sh-Sherrie, m-my lord.¡±


    ¡°Hm. How many young children are working here, Sherrie?¡±


    Her chin jerked up in surprise. ¡°Pardon?¡±


    ¡°I saw a toddler carrying a bucket in the courtyard. How many children are there?¡±


    ¡°I- six, I think.¡±


    ¡°Why? They can¡¯t be that useful.¡±


    Sherrie opened her mouth and closed it a few times. Unsure how to respond to cause the least amount of damage. Flint waited patiently while Ralph went back to shuffling through documents.


    Finally, she swallowed and whispered, ¡°To keep some of our people from rebelling.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re hostages?¡±


    ¡°Y-yes.¡±


    ¡°Are you a hostage?¡±


    She dropped her eyes to the floor and didn¡¯t answer.


    ¡°I see.¡±


    Flint watched her unblinkingly, twisting the fountain pen in his fingers. Abruptly, he dropped the pen and steepled his fingers.


    ¡°The reeve manor is not a nursery. Send word to their parents to come get their children. There is also a shepherd I would liked fetched, but I don¡¯t know his name. He works with a man named Jay.¡±


    The girl visibly flinched again.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ I know who that is, sir.¡±


    Of course you do, thought Flint wryly. He waved two fingers at her. ¡°Off you go.¡±


    The girl was surprisingly reluctant to leave, shooting looks over her shoulder as she walked out the door.


    ¡°A shepherd, my lord?¡± asked Ralph dryly.


    Flint gave Ralph a look, then went back to writing. A while later, the girl returned and stood in a corner. Pretending very hard she wasn¡¯t there.


    It was some time after Ralph took the revised charges outside, and after Sucket was sent on his way, when two men were escorted into the office. Two men, one of them holding the toddler Flint had seen earlier.


    By then, Flint, Ralph, and one of his other knights were discussing other paperwork.


    Flint found it both annoying and amusing that Sucket¡¯s guards had quickly switched allegiance. Probably in fear of losing their cushy jobs. He intended to fire most of them.


    Eventually.


    When he could get away with it.


    But for now, he merely waved a hand in acknowledgement of the two guards that escorted the men to the office. They bowed and left.


    ¡°Of the entire mess, I think the paperwork is the most orderly. Idiot. Why did he leave all of this lying around?¡± Ralph tossed a bundle on the desk.


    ¡°He didn¡¯t think anyone would dare raid his office,¡± offered the other knight.


    ¡°No, I¡¯m sure he expected it after the ceremony.¡±


    The two knights chuckled while Flint continued looking over the paper he held. It was a deed for the sale of a young Lycan man to slave traders. Dated three months ago. Stacked with it had been an order for the guards to find whoever had tried to hide this young man.


    Apparently, they¡¯d almost succeeded in evading Sucket¡¯s illegal slave trading.


    With a sigh, he dropped the paper on the desk. Head pounding.


    Damn it!


    ¡°My guests are here. Move,¡± he told his knights grumpily.


    The two shared a smirk but stood up, respectfully getting out of the way. Flint waved for the two shepherds to sit.


    Slowly, they did so. The child clung to Jay and made little distressed sounds that were neither cries nor moaning. More¡­ squeaking.


    ¡°I believe I only asked for one of you.¡±


    Jay risked a glance up, then down, glaring at the ground. His friend kept his eyes on the ground, sitting on the edge of his seat.


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    Flint waited, but no explanation came. Fine.


    ¡°Your name?¡±


    ¡°Ben or Alben, sir.¡±


    ¡°Is Sherrie your daughter or your sister?¡±


    The man¡¯s chin shot up, his composure immediately breaking. He almost looked at her, but the lapse was only for a second. Instead, he quickly dropped his chin again and clenched his fists.


    And didn¡¯t answer.


    Ralph exchanged a look with the other knight.


    ¡°Fine.¡± Flint waved away the defiance like it was a fly. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. Are you well versed in the affairs of the reeve, Ben?¡±


    ¡°If you mean do I know what goes on in this office, then no.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t lie. The girl keeps you well informed.¡±

 Ep. 27 - You Work for Me

    Again, Ben stiffened, and the knights exchanged looks. The girl sucked in her breath, but Flint didn¡¯t look away from the shepherds.


    ¡°... What do you want?¡±


    Flint waved a hand at the second knight. Who bowed.


    ¡°This is Sir Leonard Chez. He will be my unofficial representative in this reeve until I can appoint a permanent one. Which won¡¯t be for another month, unfortunately. Until then, I need someone to work with Chez. Someone who can keep up the appearance of a submissive reeve while preventing this nonsense.¡±


    Flint picked up and held out the bill of sale.


    When Ben took it, his facial expression didn¡¯t change. But the paper crinkled under his clenched fingers.


    Flint almost smiled.


    His guess about the apparently more submissive one of the pair was proving to be more and more correct. Neither predator was broken.


    ¡°As well as appropriately distributing funds for the repair of buildings and equipment, the hiring and support of healers and physicians, food distribution-¡±


    ¡°Why are you asking me?¡±


    Flint thought about being vague. But there was no point in that, so he chose bluntness.


    ¡°Because half the citizens of this reeve are Lycan and are more likely to respond to one of their own. Especially someone who¡¯s worked tirelessly for them since the occupation already.¡±


    Silence.


    Ben was now openly studying Flint¡¯s expressionless face. Looking for a clue to what the Baron knew.


    Flint didn¡¯t even glance at the other paper. The one with orders to find who had tried to stop the sale of the youth. Sucket had been a smart idiot. He¡¯d had all the clues all along, but never put them together.


    ¡°And afterward?¡±


    ¡°What about it?¡±


    ¡°When everything is functioning well, what will happen to my people?¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± Flint decided here he¡¯d use a different truth. One the abused Lycan would be more likely to accept. ¡°You are afraid that once everything looks and runs well, I¡¯ll send the lot of you to the nearest slave trader.¡±


    The man didn¡¯t move, continuing to stare at Flint.


    ¡°The thing about selling people off is you only get the profits once.¡± Flint rubbed his fingers together. ¡°In the long run, it¡¯s better for my treasury to keep those people happy and settled in one place. Do you understand?¡±


    Ben¡¯s jaw clenched.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Good. You will work with Sir Chez to better the condition of the reeve. I suggest you take full advantage of every opportunity to improve your people¡¯s conditions while you can. But that¡¯s up to you.¡±


    ¡°And if I refuse?¡±


    Flint smiled, but it didn¡¯t reach his eyes.


    ¡°You won¡¯t. But since you need some persuading, I¡¯ll be sending this young lady away from the reeve manor. Along with the rest of the staff. And no one will be hired again until you agree to be involved in the decision making.¡±


    The Lycan clenched his fists on his lap.


    ¡°Tell me, Ben. Can you afford to be completely blind to what¡¯s going on in the manor?¡±


    For a long second, no one said anything. No one moved.


    Until abruptly, the little girl jerked her head up and wriggled off her father¡¯s lap. Jay and Ben both made a grab for her as she ran around them and around the desk.


    Both Lycan paled when the little girl jammed her nose into Flint¡¯s thigh and took a deep, audible breath.


    Flint froze.


    The child raised her head and looked up at him with sparkling eyes.


    ¡°Laisha likes that smell,¡± she announced. ¡°You smell like big girl. I like her.¡±


    Flint blinked at her, then relaxed. His mind quickly made the connections. ¡°Laisha, is it? You must mean my sister. I like her, too.¡±


    The little girl beamed.


    ¡°Can she come play with Laisha?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid she¡¯s too far away to play today. Maybe next time.¡±


    The child pouted.


    ¡°Laisha,¡± Jay hissed. ¡°Come.¡±


    The little girl ignored him. ¡°When? When can big girl play?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. We don¡¯t come this way often.¡±


    ¡°Please?!¡±


    Flint blinked. A feeling of deja-vu washed over him. Did all children beg like that? It was hard to say no when they were looking at you with such big eyes.


    He took a deep breath.


    ¡°I¡¯ll bring Em with me in a few months,¡± he promised. The royal wedding was in six months. He¡¯d have to bring her with him then, anyway. ¡°Jay, get your daughter. Everyone, out. I have work to do.¡±


    He ignored all of them as they left.


    Leaving him in blessed peace.


    ***


    The activity inside the March manor had changed for the last few days.


    At first, Em didn¡¯t notice.


    She kept going with her new schedule, blithely unaware of what was going on around her. And delighted that she could now pull herself a whole four feet up that huge tree!


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    (Though, since Tracy disapproved of her leaving the grounds without an adult, she couldn¡¯t brag about her success.)


    The day she finally realized something was going on, she also noticed something else.


    Now she wasn¡¯t just avoiding remembering Em Taylor.


    Sometimes she went whole days forgetting she wasn''t Emmaline Grimshaw.


    Every day, the world presented her with new details about it that made it difficult to imagine she was dreaming.


    Maybe she was really Emmaline? And had dreamed about being Em instead?


    That was when she put a stop to her thoughts. Flint came home yesterday, she decided to ask him for a journal. Preferably one she could lock with magic so no one could read it.


    She needed to write down what she remembered of Em. And her fading memories of the book ¡°The Lost Prince.¡±


    She was sure it was dangerous to forget.


    Troubled with her thoughts, she left the ball game later than normal and headed toward the main building. The training grounds were located behind the large manor and beyond the wall, so it took her some time to get to the courtyard up front.


    Where she discovered her things had just arrived from the Capital.


    Instantly forgetting her fears, she squealed and ran the rest of the way. Straight to her pony.


    The creature whickered in delight as she pressed their faces together.


    ¡°Hello, Star,¡± she told the little mare softly. ¡°Did you miss me?¡±


    ¡°She sure did, miss.¡±


    Em looked up and was startled to find the stable hand from the barony standing there. Grinning at her with the look of a proud father.


    ¡°You came all the way here, sir?¡±


    He shrugged and stroked the nose of another horse. Now that Em was paying attention, she realized Star had been tied to the other horse. And this huge stallion was the one she¡¯d healed before.


    The other horse seemed to remember her, too, because he whinnied. Then he reached his head over the stable hand to bump her shoulder. With a grin, she stroked him.


    ¡°Well! I noticed he didn¡¯t seem to mind you before, miss, but I thought it might¡¯ve been because he was ill.¡±


    ¡°Is it abnormal for him?¡±


    The stable hand looked very serious. ¡°Yes. He likes only me and the Baron. Or, used to, anyway.¡±


    Em looked at the horse in surprise.


    ¡°This is Flint¡¯s horse?¡±


    ¡°Yes, miss.¡±


    Oh. For some reason, she thought it had belonged to Felix. Why hadn¡¯t Emmaline known?


    ¡°Miss Emmaline!¡±


    Em said goodbye to the stable hand and joined Tracy at a wagon.


    Flint hadn¡¯t kept much from the manor. Which made Em sad because she was certain that meant he sold most of it. If not all of it.


    Or gave it to that awful Marquis Harrow as part of that bogus bride price.


    She gritted her teeth.


    ¡°Is that not alright, miss Emmaline?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    Tracy sighed.


    ¡°I was asking if we could put this box of trinkets in another room. Just until after the Crown Prince leaves and we can finish getting your permanent room ready.¡±


    Em¡¯s ears pricked. ¡°The Crown Prince is coming?¡±


    ¡°He should be here in about two weeks.¡±


    Anxiety gripped her stomach.


    ¡°Wh-why is he coming? Did we do something wrong?¡±


    Tracy laughed and patted her head.


    ¡°No, no. Nothing like that. He¡¯s just coming to inspect the March and bestow the title of Marquis on his lordship. Normally it would be done in the Capital, but with the royal wedding coming up and with the mess the March is in, it¡¯ll happen here instead.¡±


    ¡°And the Crown Prince will be coming himself? Why doesn¡¯t he just send someone?¡±


    Em thought it was a good question. The Lycan lands may have now technically belonged to the Empire, but it was still close to the border. And it still had many unhappy Lycan in the area. He could very well be putting himself in danger.


    Em knew that no one but the ¡®lost prince¡¯ could defeat the bastard. That didn¡¯t mean anyone else knew!


    ¡°I don¡¯t presume to know what the young sun of the empire is thinking.¡±


    Which was also a reasonable answer.


    While Tracy directed people to take this or that of Em¡¯s things to Em¡¯s room and a storage area, Em stepped back to think.


    The Crown Prince was coming.


    As long as nothing alerted the man to Em¡¯s power, she should be safe from him. Right?


    Yes.


    There was no reason whatsoever for him to notice the eleven-year-old sister of one of his soldiers. Still, she wanted to make sure she stayed as far away from him as she possibly could.


    She nodded to herself.


    As of now, she hadn¡¯t even started her special training for healing. Running around until her lungs felt like bursting was about it. It should be easy to hide her talent.


    Reassured, she went back to helping with her things¡­ and thought little of the tyrant¡¯s coming for the next two weeks.


    Now that she had good dresses again, she was amused when Tracy wouldn¡¯t let her touch any of them until dinner. At which point, she dressed Em up, ordered her not to embarrass herself in front of Flint, and sent her to sit by her brother during the meal.


    It was especially amusing since all of those dresses were black and gray.


    And they were getting small.


    If she¡¯d been in Elyana, the Capital, and if her parents were still alive, she would¡¯ve just been fitted for new dresses.


    But since they were here and Flint was strapped for cash, Tracy showed her how to let out her hem on the old dresses instead. Though she muttered that eventually she¡¯ll have to take off the tight sleeves to make them last longer.


    Em liked that idea. Her arms would be free!


    Some dresses Tracy confiscated to do more complicated work. Using a few yards of new fabric to adjust the sizes. So Em could grow into them next year.


    To her relief, Tracy took out the extra lace and frills because they didn¡¯t adjust well. It made the dresses look painfully plain, but that was better than wearing the baby-doll styles.


    Meanwhile, everyone was working hard. Even the children were roped into various small jobs. Like taking the smaller rubble out of the courtyard.


    All for a stupid prince that no one was excited to see.


    The day Thiago arrived, Em had made it up her tree another two feet. She dangled there, holding onto the bark with her fingertips and willing herself to take one more step up¡­


    She fell.


    Her feet caught her first. Then she lost her balance and fell on her rump.


    Getting up, she rubbed her backside and stuck her tongue out at the tree.


    ¡°I am going to get up there,¡± she told it. ¡°Just you wait. And when I do, I¡¯ll have a picnic on that big branch.¡±


    She heard a¡­ giggle from the bushes.


    Startled, she spun around to stare at the bush.


    Of course, it didn¡¯t move. And it stopped making sounds, too.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    Nothing.


    Cautiously, she took three steps toward it. Then something burst out of the greenery in a full flung panic. She barely glimpsed Todd, the squirrel Lycan from the gardens, as he rushed past.


    ¡°Wait!¡±


    It was no use.


    He didn¡¯t even look back as he made a beeline for the outer wall of the manor defenses.


    With a huff of exasperation, Em ran after him.


    She made it almost to the wall before she was huffing. Then grimaced when Todd simply vaulted onto the wall and climbed. Fine. She kept running, aiming for the nearest gate instead of the hole in the wall she usually used.


    That was when she heard the commotion.


    ¡°How dare you, you little rat!¡±


    Em dashed through the small door and almost fainted.

 Ep. 28 - My Pet

    If Todd had gone the other way, over the back wall, then he could¡¯ve skirted the building and gotten to the gardens without ever stepping foot into the courtyard.


    Instead, a knight in full Imperial uniform grabbed him and held him up by the front of his shirt. He made choking sounds as he dangled and clutched at the man¡¯s wrist.


    The rest of the courtyard was full of the Prince¡¯s entourage and people greeting them.


    Em got over her shock when the knight shook the little boy.


    ¡°Stop it!¡±


    Somehow, she¡¯d run the last few feet without noticing. Jumping up, she grabbed the knight by the arm. Trying to weigh him down enough to let Todd go.


    ¡°Let him go!¡±


    ¡°Another little mouse? Is this place infested?¡±


    The knight¡¯s lips curled in disgust.


    ¡°I¡¯m not a mouse,¡± she pouted.


    Then she bounced, putting more strain on the man¡¯s arm. It must¡¯ve been made of iron or something because it barely moved. Meanwhile, Todd was choking. Not enough that his life was in danger, but it couldn¡¯t have been comfortable.


    ¡°What is all of this?¡±


    With everyone else, Em looked at the speaker.


    Unlike everyone else, she almost fainted a second time. She gaped at the woman, who was looking down at them with a contemptuous glare. Heart pounding in distress and shock.


    She knew that woman.


    Even though she¡¯d never seen her before as either Em or Emmaline.


    Brown hair, streaked with bright red highlights¡­ A ghost. Or a dream.


    ¡°This little rat approached the royal retinue,¡± the knight said with dignity. ¡°I was about to remove it.¡±


    With his free hand, he reached for a knife on his belt, and Em snapped back to the more urgent matter. Todd realized what he was doing too and lost all control of his form. Tail and teeth sprouted abruptly as he squeaked in alarm.


    ¡°Todd¡¯s not a rat,¡± Em yelled. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare touch him!¡±


    ¡°You are not a Lycan,¡± said the woman. Again drawing attention to her cold face. ¡°Who are you to interfere?¡±


    Em tightened her grip on the man¡¯s arm. Why won¡¯t it just drop already?!


    Sticking up her chin, she said as haughtily as she could, ¡°I¡¯m Lady Emmaline Grimshaw.¡±


    Something flickered across the woman¡¯s face.


    ¡°You¡¯re Baron Grimshaw¡¯s sister?¡±


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not how you address-¡±


    The woman interrupted.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine. Tell me, Lady Emmaline, what is that Lycan to you?¡±


    Em thought quickly.


    A ¡®friend¡¯ would be socially unacceptable. And untrue, though that wouldn¡¯t have bothered her if it would work. A servant wouldn¡¯t work either, though that was closer to the truth. But a servant could be killed or beaten for their mistake.


    And Em remembered how cold the woman had been when she¡¯d seen her before.


    So, anything that might sound sympathetic to a Lycan probably wouldn¡¯t work either. Leaving guardian out as well.


    So maybe-


    ¡°He¡¯s my pet.¡±


    For an instant, there was silence. Then the woman threw back her head in a bark of laughter.


    ¡°Hahaha! Vachel, release the girl¡¯s pet. Girl, take that thing away and leash him. Before he causes more trouble.¡±


    Todd was only nine and not astute enough to realize he couldn¡¯t get out of the courtyard without her. As soon as the knight let him go, he tried to make a dash for it. In a panic, Em grabbed him by the collar and they both fell on their faces.


    ¡°Stop it, you dummy,¡± she muttered at him as she got to her knees. ¡°Let me lead you to the garden so they don¡¯t kill you.¡±


    The little boy whimpered, but apparently understood her well enough.


    Trying to walk with dignity, keeping her chin in the air, Em walked through the retinue and toward the wall leading to the stables. Beyond which was another wall leading to the gardens.


    As they walked, she looked around only once.


    And accidentally caught Prince Thiago¡¯s eye.


    She almost froze mid step and spun her face forward. Heart pounding.


    It wasn¡¯t just that he might take her away if he found out her secret. It was knowing as much about him as she did.


    The original protagonist was nothing but a snake in human skin.


    A man who could murder his brothers with his own hand and shamelessly claim an unknown assassination. A man who could, and did, destroy entire families, cities, and countries in his mad pursuit to gain and keep power.


    A man who was even now murdering his father by dripping poison into his meals.


    They¡¯d barely gotten through the gates and into the stable yard when Todd wrenched himself free.


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    ¡°You¡¯re welcome!¡± Em hissed after him.


    Todd, of course, didn¡¯t look back. Probably didn¡¯t even hear her. Which was good, since she didn¡¯t want anyone else to hear her, either. Not when she was supposed to be ¡®leashing¡¯ her pet.


    She escaped as well, running through gates until she could enter the kitchens. Where she nearly tripped a cook by scurrying in front of the man. He stumbled, almost dropping a hot saucepan.


    ¡°Miss, don¡¯t do that!¡± he shouted after her. ¡°I could have burnt you!¡±


    Em didn¡¯t answer.


    Taking the servants¡¯ stairwell, she raced upstairs and to her room. Tracy wasn¡¯t there, which was fine with her.


    She could hide under her bed and shiver by herself.


    ***


    Madeline Dulce watched Em drag away the young boy. Thoughtfully pursing her lips.


    So that was Emmaline Grimshaw.


    Baron Grimshaw¡¯s younger sister was darling. He hadn¡¯t talked about her much, but when he had, it was with the only smile she¡¯d ever seen quirking his lips. (If you can call that barely turned up expression a smile.)


    Was that just the power of little sisters?


    It made something ache in her chest, and she returned her thoughts to the present.


    Swinging off her horse, she handed the reins to the person who came for them.


    ¡°Where is the Baron?¡±


    Thiago¡¯s voice cut through the noise like a hot knife through butter. Inwardly, Madeline flinched. She was careful to keep her face impassive as she turned toward her intended.


    ¡°He¡¯s on his way, your Highness.¡±


    Thiago shoved the man out of his way and marched toward the front doors. Fortunately for everyone in the manor, the doors opened just then and out stepped Flint.


    Safe behind Thiago¡¯s back, Madeline took a split second to assess Flint¡¯s condition.


    To her relief, there was no sign of weakness or fatigue. The man must have a never ending battery hidden on him somewhere. She envied that.


    As though Thiago knew her thoughts were on another man, he glanced over his shoulder. By then Madeline had carefully looked away. Arms crossed and expression bored.


    Thiago smirked and turned forward. He held out a hand to Flint.


    Flint politely took it and bowed over it.


    ¡°Welcome, your Highness.¡±


    ¡°This place is a dump,¡± the Prince announced. ¡°Have you done nothing to clean it up?¡±


    ¡°It was a lot worse when I first came.¡±


    ¡°I hope to see improvement at my next visit.¡±


    ¡°Of course, your Highness.¡±


    ¡°Now, show us to our rooms. We¡¯ll begin the inspection tomorrow.¡±


    Madeline grimaced. Tomorrow? Couldn¡¯t he give her a day or two to rest?


    No. This man, too, had endless energy. But Madeline was privately sure its source was some sort of demon rather than a battery.


    Normally a servant showed guests to their rooms. But either Flint decided they were too important for that, or¡­ glancing at everyone they passed, Madeline guessed the truth a lot quicker.


    There were no official servants.


    Will Thiago notice? Probably. It¡¯ll just increase his scorn for the other man.


    In the end, it meant Flint showed them himself. Madeline lagged the two men, listening to their conversation.


    Since she was just extra luggage and a weapon for dangerous situations, she eventually let her mind wander. Trying not to stare at the back of Flint¡¯s head and his lovely hair.


    For an instant, she transported back in time.


    She¡¯d been pretending to be a mercenary for over a year already by the time her then-current mercenary group had been attached to Flint¡¯s knightage.


    After a long battle with the now gone Allgris kingdom, she¡¯d trudged into camp. So fatigued she wanted to cry thinking of all the work still ahead of her.


    Still, she¡¯d gotten to work. Helping the healers with the wounded and stretching her mana as close to dry as she could get.


    She remembered the way her hands shook as she cleaned yet another wound. Squeezing bloody water into a bowl¡­ When the rag was snatched from her hand and dropped with a plop into the bowl.


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    The snarl died on her lips when she came face to face with Grimshaw. Commander Grimshaw at the time.


    She knew who he was, of course. And she¡¯d been careful to avoid him in case he recognized the sorceress daughter of house Dulce. It was possible. They¡¯d run across each other at events before¡­


    She¡¯d just been much younger at those events, and they hadn¡¯t done more than exchange a few words.


    So it was possible he also didn¡¯t recognize her.


    Still, having him so close so suddenly made her insides momentarily freeze with confusion.


    ¡°Sorceress,¡± he said gruffly. ¡°Go to bed.¡±


    ¡°Like hell! There¡¯s too much to do for that.¡±


    She reached for the bloody rag and bowl, but he closed his hand around her wrist.


    ¡°If you render yourself useless to us, even more lives could be lost. I¡¯ll finish here. You go to bed.¡±


    Madeline argued stubbornly. It was a matter of pride by then, and she consciously ignored the way she swayed even while on her knees.


    To her shock, he¡¯d simply ignored her arguments and picked her up.


    But not in some romantic princess hold.


    He threw her over his shoulder and ignored her weak fists against his back. Her whole body trembled with fatigue, but she still tried to get herself free.


    Until he dropped her on her own bedroll and pulled the covers over her. Already, her body was ready to succumb, and she struggled to sit up. The big man put a hand on her shoulder and held her down.


    That¡¯s all he had to do. Hold her down until her body betrayed her, and she swooned into a dead sleep.


    Thinking back on the memory, Madeline smiled at the wall.


    He¡¯d been infuriating. Expecting to be obeyed like that. It was too much for her pride, even now, to admit he¡¯d been right.


    ¡°What¡¯s so amusing?¡±


    She flinched.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Thiago frowned and reached out to push a lock of her hair out of her face. Even if she¡¯d been free to do so, she didn¡¯t dare look at Flint. Which was silly. There was no reason he should care that the Crown Prince was touching his fiancee.


    It was long practice that kept her flinch inside.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been staring at that wall for some time. Did it say something funny?¡±


    She scowled at him and took a step back.


    ¡°This is my room, right?¡± She pointed at a door.


    ¡°Yes, your Highness.¡±


    Her insides twisted. Your Highness. Figures. She scowled more and marched to the door.


    ¡°If you two wish to continue your conversation in the hallway, be my guest. But I¡¯m going to lie down.¡±


    She slammed the door behind her. Wishing she dared to lock it. Preferably with magic so Thiago couldn¡¯t just break the lock.


    The room was humble. Very humble. Not a commoner''s shack humble, but old and in need of polishing and repairs. The curtains were beautifully embroidered, but ragged at the corners. As were the rugs.


    In fact, the only new thing in this room was the blanket.


    Madeline threw herself on the bed, not bothering to take off her boots. There, she dropped an arm over her eyes.


    How long did she have to endure this torture?


    Hell, what had she done to deserve it in the first place?

 Ep. 29 - Isolated Among Friends

    Days like this, when her spirits were low, she wondered why she bothered with any of it. Not just putting up with a bastard like Thiago. But living. Struggling to make some sort of difference.


    The servants they¡¯d brought from the Capital eventually settled themselves and brought Madeline her things.


    Silently, she allowed her maid to help her bathe, dress, and do her hair before going down to the dining hall.


    ¡°I think this is the worst room yet.¡±


    Thiago said it loudly enough that many people turn their heads away. Probably all scowling.


    ¡°You expected better?¡± Madeline couldn¡¯t help it. He was so annoying.


    Thiago smirked and wrapped an arm around her waist. Pulling her closer than she would have liked.


    Not that she wanted any contact at all.


    ¡°He¡¯s had half a year to prepare for our coming.¡±


    ¡°That should tell you how much there was to do.¡±


    ¡°Or how lazy and incompetent the man is.¡±


    Madeline bit back her instincts to say something overly rude by pressing her lips tightly together.


    The whole situation was humiliating.


    Everywhere she looked, there were people glancing at her whom she recognized. They all knew her, too. Men she¡¯d worked with on the battlefield, women who¡¯d directed her among the wounded¡­ and Flint.


    Flint, who refused to do more than politely meet her eye and bow as he directed her and Thiago to the seats of honor. Thiago, in mock politeness, pulled out a chair for her. Though keeping the seat of honor for himself.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±


    Madeline flinched.


    ¡°What¡¯s what, your Highness?¡± Flint watched as Thiago took a seat.


    Once seated, Thiago waved a hand around the room. ¡°I don¡¯t see your lovely little sister anywhere.¡±


    Flint¡¯s jaw tightened. Upset that the Prince was taking notice of Em.


    He sat down on Thiago¡¯s other side and calmly crossed his arms.


    ¡°Emmaline had a mishap with her mana recently. I¡¯m told it suddenly returned less than an hour ago and she¡¯s feeling too dizzy to join us.¡±


    ¡°What a shame. She was rather lively earlier.¡±


    ¡°Lively?¡±


    Madeline stared straight ahead at the far wall, wanting to avoid eye contact with anyone while Thiago told the story.


    Her maid, one that came with her, placed a plate in front of her. Still, she didn¡¯t touch it. Waiting for Thiago to acknowledge his plate first.


    Just like everyone else in the hall.


    She let out a sigh as he dragged the story out as long as he could. Deliberately making everyone wait on him.


    At the end of the story, and while Thiago finally speared a roasted potato, she risked a glance at Flint.


    The man¡¯s expression hadn¡¯t changed at all.


    Either he was maintaining strict self control, or he already knew the story. If he already knew, then why the hell did he allow Thiago to go on and on about it?


    Viciously, she stabbed at the meat. Not bothering yet with a knife.


    ¡°I sincerely apologize, your Highness.¡± Flint bowed his head. ¡°I will have a talk with my sister.¡±


    ¡°I thought she was being darling.¡±


    Madeline flinched and shivered. Despite herself, her eyes flashed anxiously toward Flint. Who didn¡¯t look at her or change his expression.


    ¡°You should bring her along for the inspection tomorrow. I¡¯d like to get to know the little lady.¡±


    Over my dead body. Madeline snarled before she realized what she was doing.


    ¡°A young child will only get in the way.¡± She finally picked up her knife. ¡°And she will tire quickly.¡±


    ¡°We can send her away once she¡¯s too tired to follow along. It¡¯s good training for a future wife, don¡¯t you think, Baron? To see how things are managed on a big estate?¡±


    A future wife?


    Madeline¡¯s hand shook. What the hell was he planning? Was he just trying to get under Flint¡¯s skin? Or was he hinting at something more sinister?


    Damn it!


    She hated this man.


    Flint smiled grimly.


    ¡°Her Highness voiced my own objections, and you have answered them, your Highness. I can arrange for Emmaline to join us for an hour or two if you wish.¡±


    ¡°Is she a well-behaved girl?¡±


    ¡°You saw for yourself earlier.¡±


    ¡°Then she still needs lessons,¡± Thiago concluded. ¡°Forgive me for overstepping, Baron, but the child isn¡¯t likely to thrive in a backwoods place like this. I can recommend some highly competent guardians who will see to her education.¡±


    ¡°In the Capital, I suppose?¡±


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    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Baron Grimshaw¡¯s smile continued to be grim. He was probably only attempting to smile out of politeness.


    ¡°Thank you for the offer, your Highness. But right now Em needs the comfort of family. I don¡¯t intend to send her away until she¡¯s at least sixteen. And even then, only if she agrees to go.¡±


    Thiago¡¯s smile was icy.


    ¡°Of course, if that¡¯s your decision.¡±


    Madeline relaxed by a fraction when the conversation returned to business.


    The dinner fare was plain and limited to two courses. Which Madeline appreciated though she knew Thiago would take offense. She nibbled on everything as she listened.


    The agenda tomorrow was to look over the Marquis estate. That would take a day or three, depending on how deeply Thiago wished to look into the records. Being a meticulous man, Madeline expected at least two days if not three.


    Then they¡¯d leave the estate to visit two or three reeves.


    ¡°I cannot vouch for the state of the reeves.¡± Flint picked up his wine cup. ¡°Its recently come to my attention that at least one of them has been embezzling. I¡¯ve begun investigating the others, but my investigations are not complete.¡±


    ¡°Really, Baron. My father insists on giving you the March because he thinks highly of your competence. But you can¡¯t even manage this much?¡±


    Flint gave Thiago a thoroughly false smile.


    ¡°I assumed the Imperially appointed representatives were all men of character. I still believe most of them are. My investigations are merely a formality because of the one who was but a thief.¡±


    Madeline almost choked on her food.


    Her laughter tried to boil out of her stomach and it took everything she had to keep it from showing on her face.


    Point to Flint!


    Unable to argue with Flint without making himself look bad, the Prince scowled and changed the subject.


    Madeline¡¯s mood went up several notches, and she ended dinner in great spirits.


    Which was her only buffer for when Thiago slipped into her room uninvited when the maids left.


    After he was done with her and fell asleep, she stared at the window. Wrapping her arms around her naked body and making sure the blanket was tucked all the way to her chin.


    It made her feel less exposed.


    Still, this unpleasant situation wasn¡¯t the worst thing she¡¯d experienced over the years. Compared to the horrors she¡¯d witnessed and been part of on the battlefield, especially the cruelest of murders that happened before her eyes, her emotions were completely dead to Thiago¡¯s unwanted attention.


    Right now, though, there was a hollowness where her heart should have been.


    Was it because she was now among people she considered friends¡­ but unable to even acknowledge them with so much as a wave?


    It made her wonder.


    Was anything she did worth the effort?


    The lies, the spying, collecting secret funds. Was any of it worth it? It felt a lot like trying to roll a boulder up a hill. She couldn¡¯t see over the top of it and didn¡¯t know how far there was left to go.


    And couldn¡¯t see if she had a chance of making it.


    ¡­ Maybe the boulder would slip and crush her as it rolled right back down.


    If she was going to end up so isolated¡­ and deal with the real possibility she would fail and end up dead¡­


    Was it worth it?


    She dwelt too long on the past. It took only half a second for her to recognize the symptoms of a panic attack trying to get the best of her.


    Hands shaking, she carefully rolled out of bed and pulled on a robe.


    Unlike her rooms in the Palace, there was no antechamber to this room. So getting out, she had to step all the way into the hallway. Appreciating the lack of lights, she leaned on her bedroom door and shook. Gasping through her panic.


    When her gasps turned to hiccups, she covered her face.


    PTSD. She had freaking PTSD.


    Understanding what was happening to her didn¡¯t make it any less easy to deal with.


    She laughed. If heard by anyone, it would have sounded next to insane.


    Well, whether or not it was ¡®worth it¡¯, she had to keep going.


    Otherwise, her entire life was just one long line of nothing.


    Her existence meant nothing.


    It took her a long fifteen minutes to regain control of her body. Then she took a deep breath and straightened her spine. Not better. She was too raw to be ¡®better¡¯. But now she could hide it again.


    After she went back into her room, a shadow moved at the other end of the hallway. Flint didn¡¯t go any closer to the door she¡¯d just disappeared to. He simply bowed his head in silent shared helplessness and went back to his room one corridor over.


    ***


    ¡°Guess who I saw today.¡±


    Prince was sharpening a sword by the dim light of a small arrow hole window. He couldn¡¯t hear her, of course. But she was too agitated to stop talking.


    ¡°Do you remember that sorceress from the night you were captured?¡±


    Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.


    ¡°She¡¯s here! At my brother¡¯s manor. Who do you think she is?¡±


    Prince lifted his sword, turning it to look at the blade edge.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s a regular guard. The knight was acting all respectful toward her. But I wasn¡¯t allowed to join them for dinner, so I didn¡¯t get a chance to find out.¡±


    Em pouted.


    She was lying on her stomach, kicking her legs and looking up at him. At least, she felt her legs waving around, even though she couldn¡¯t see them still.


    Prince nodded and put down the whetstone in favor of a polish cloth. Em, feeling lonely with his unresponsiveness, pouted more and looked him up and down. How to get his attention¡­?


    He had a scrape on his ankle. Small enough that no one would notice if it was gone.


    With a grin, she reached out to touch it.


    Prince froze. Then cautiously leaned over to look at his ankle.


    A smile spread across his face. A relieved, radiant smile. Em liked that look on him.


    ¡°You here, Angel? It¡¯s been a while.¡±


    Wait. Was he almost crying? Em got to her knees and looked at him intently. Trying to project her concern at him.


    He closed his eyes, tilting his head to one side while he carefully held the sword on his lap.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re trying to say. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Getting all the way to her feet, she touched his cheek. Of course, she felt herself go through him. It was frustrating!


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t mean to frustrate you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not you,¡± she told him. Her emotions mixed around annoyance and a desire to reassure him. ¡°This whole situation is just stupid.¡±


    He kept his eyes closed. Like he was listening. With a sigh, Em projected happiness. She was happy. Happy to see him. Happy to see him in one piece. She¡¯d been afraid with the dreams stopping for weeks¡­ that maybe he¡¯d died.


    It was a stupid fear. He wasn¡¯t real in the first place.


    But still, she¡¯d been afraid. And didn¡¯t know why she¡¯d stopped dreaming about him.


    She looked thoughtfully down at her fingers.


    Her mana had only returned the night before. Was it somehow part of why she could come see him?


    That would be extra motivation to not deplete herself.


    A loud banging on the door had Prince wrinkling his nose. With a sigh, and a roll of his eyes, he yelled, ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Careful, Gray.¡± A woman opened the door and peeked in. ¡°Give your sass to the wrong person and you¡¯ll find yourself tied to a beating pole.¡±


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll be fine, Zaria. You and the boys are the only ones who come down. What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Your mistress is here. Put that up, wash your face, and head upstairs.¡±

 Ep. 30 - Who is the Sponser?

    The door closed with a snap.


    For an instant, Prince didn¡¯t move. Then with a grunt, he got to his feet and put his sword aside. Then stepped over to a pitcher and bowl on a small table at the foot of the bed.


    ¡°Sorry, Angel. I won¡¯t be able to make contact for a while,¡± he muttered. Just before splashing his face.


    Em followed him out of the room.


    Another long, gloomy hallway. It seemed to be made mostly of stone. Like being in a man-made cave. He walked through a large room full of boisterous, laughing people. Mostly men, though with a sprinkling of women.


    Em saw ¡®Zaria¡¯ again in a corner. She was the only halfway pretty woman here. Everyone else looked like they¡¯d been through a war or were so buffed they almost lost the meaning of ¡®woman¡¯ in their bodies.


    Zaria may be the prettiest one, but most of the men acted wary around her. There was no flirting in any of their body language.


    Interesting.


    Prince left the big room and began climbing some stairs.


    Up¡­ and up¡­ and up¡­


    No wonder only the gladiators came down here! His window must¡¯ve been at the bottom of a moat, or in the side of a cliff or something. If Em weren¡¯t ethereal right now, she would¡¯ve been out of breath a story and a half ago.


    He stepped through a doorway at the top of the stairs¡­


    And the change was night and day.


    Em raised both eyebrows at the elegance and splendor of the new hallway he walked down.


    ¡°They must keep the guest area pretty. Is it for comfort or to impress?¡±


    Maybe both.


    Finally, Prince stopped outside a door. Where a guard looked him over before knocking and announcing him.


    ¡°Send him in.¡±


    Em sneered at the woman lounging on a couch inside. She elegantly sipped a cup of tea, pretending not to notice Prince as he came in and bowed to her.


    ¡°Greetings, Mistress.¡±


    She finally looked at him. But still, for a moment, she said nothing. Taking another sip. Finally, she put her cup down.


    ¡°Sit.¡±


    Prince¡¯s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he hesitated. Looking at the opposite couch.


    ¡°Not there.¡± She pointed at the floor at her feet. ¡°Here.¡±


    His expression briefly said, ¡®I should have known,¡¯ before his face smoothed out and he meekly sat.


    The woman stroked Prince¡¯s head. Em clenched her fists.


    ¡°Get your hands off him!¡±


    ¡°You look well. Did you see a healer?¡±


    Em stiffened. Momentarily looking at her hands. Did she heal him without realizing it?


    Prince kept his eyes on the ground as he nodded.


    ¡°Yes, Mistress. They sent a healer every day until I was well.¡±


    Em winced. Poor Prince. That had to be painful.


    ¡°Hmm.¡±


    Abruptly, the woman grabbed Prince¡¯s chin and forced him to look up at her. She brought her face so close to his that Em was certain he could smell her breath. And see the disrespect in his eyes.


    ¡°So stubborn.¡±


    She ran her fingers through his hair. Her lips quirked in amusement as he quivered with disgust.


    ¡°You don¡¯t like that, do you?¡± She did it again. This time trailing her finger down to his lips. ¡°I should bring you back home and finish breaking you.¡±


    He didn¡¯t answer.


    She let go of his chin with a shove and reached for her teacup.


    ¡°Have you found out who the other sponsor is?¡±


    ¡°No, mistress.¡±


    ¡°And you won¡¯t listen to me if I ordered you to die, will you?¡±


    No answer.


    She took a sip of tea, frowning. Then she set the cup down with another clink.


    ¡°That means I¡¯ll have to play that other person¡¯s game. So, keep winning. Maybe you¡¯ll be lucky and get your freedom.¡± She smiled a twisted smile. ¡°Or maybe I¡¯ll sell you just short of that freedom. All I have to do is buy those shares back.¡±


    Prince smiled.


    ¡°They won¡¯t sell. Not when I¡¯m winning.¡±


    The woman¡¯s face twisted, and abruptly she grabbed the teacup. Before Em realized what she was going to do, she¡¯d already thrown it at Prince.


    It was quite a throw, the edge of the teacup sliced his forehead before shattering on the ground. Covering him in tea.


    ¡°Did I say you can talk back?!¡±


    ¡°No, mistress.¡±


    ¡°Useless. Get out! Once I find that damn sponsor, I¡¯ll fill you so full of dor poison it¡¯ll have you writhing for weeks.¡±


    Calmly, keeping his eyes on the ground, Prince stood up and bowed. Then backed out of the room.


    ¡°I¡¯m alright,¡± he whispered in the hallway. ¡°Don¡¯t fret.¡±


    ¡°I want to claw that woman¡¯s face off!¡±


    She thought he¡¯d just said it in hopes she was there to hear, but the way he smiled¡­ he must be attempting to feel her now.


    They¡¯d just reached the door leading down when she felt the tug of her body waking up.


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    ¡°No! I don¡¯t want to go yet!¡±


    Prince vanished, and she opened her eyes to her own ceiling.


    ¡°Dang it!¡±


    ¡°How¡¯s the little princeling?¡±


    Em gasped and fell off the bed as she tried to spin toward the voice too fast.


    Gaping, she stared as something blob-like peeked over the edge of the bed a second later. It cackled.


    ¡°You fell off! I like that trick.¡±


    ¡°You!¡±


    Em snatched the little thing off her bed and shook it. It yelped.


    ¡°You nasty little shapeshifter! I¡¯m going to shake all the dice out of you! And when I do, you¡¯re going to bring me back my shoes!¡±


    ¡°Hey! That¡¯s not how you treat a god!¡±


    Loki wrapped himself like a worm around Em¡¯s wrists, more or less stabilizing himself to enjoy the ride. Em didn¡¯t realize that¡¯s what he was doing until he giggled and yelled, ¡°Whee!!!¡±


    ¡°Ugh!¡±


    Em tossed him onto the bed. Then stood over him, hands on hips.


    ¡°Where are my shoes?¡±


    ¡°Shoes? What shoes?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that! You change your face well but never your voice. I know it was you whispering nonsense.¡±


    The thing moved and squished until it made what looked like pouting lips. Em grunted, exasperated that she thought it was cute at the same time as still being annoyed with him.


    ¡°I ate them.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ what?! You ate my shoes!?¡±


    ¡°Hmm, one moment. Blurgh, blurgh.¡±


    Em¡¯s mouth first fell open then spasmed in a gag as he threw up her shoes onto the bed. Complete with slime puddles.


    ¡°Eww! That¡¯s so gross!¡±


    ¡°No, they were actually quite tasty.¡±


    ¡°You-! You-!¡±


    She held out her hands, wanting to shake the little wretch again. But afraid to touch it now that it was sitting in a puddle of slime.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡±


    ¡°Argh!¡±


    ¡°Miss Emmaline!¡±


    The door opened in a hurry and Tracy came in. She stopped dead at the sight of Em¡¯s shoes. Loki moved his bobby body to artfully display them.


    ¡°Look!¡± Em wailed. ¡°Look what the little slime ball did to my shoes!¡±


    ¡°What-What is that thing?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Loki,¡± Em pouted.


    Glaring at the blob as it scooted away from her shoes and made itself comfortable on her pillow.


    ¡°Nonsense. I¡¯ve seen statues and portraits of Loki and he¡¯s much more, uh, handsome than that.¡±


    Cautiously, Tracy looked around and picked up Em¡¯s umbrella. She used it to poke the creature. Loki giggled and wrapped himself briefly around the point of the umbrella. But didn¡¯t stay attached when Tracy gasped and yanked the thing back.


    ¡°But, it is Loki. And he won¡¯t stop playing tricks!¡±


    ¡°Has it hurt you?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ no¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have a knight come look at it. No, wait, I can¡¯t leave you alone with it. Follow me.¡±


    Loki, realizing what Tracy was trying to do, immediately hopped off the bed to follow them. He made adorable little cooing sounds as he went.


    ¡°Oh, no, you stay in here.¡±


    Tracy tried to push Loki back with the umbrella but he darted around it and into the hallway. Where he wrapped himself around Em¡¯s ankle.


    ¡°Eww! Get off!¡±


    Em shook her foot as hard as she could. Which only made him cling on harder and giggle again.


    ¡°You annoying little pest!¡±


    ¡°Hold still, let me try this.¡±


    Tracy was as reluctant to touch the blob as Em was, so she used the tip of the umbrella to pry it free. It was no use, Loki would not let go. And didn¡¯t seem phased at all by the pressure being put on his body.


    Finally, Tracy stood back with one hand on her hip.


    ¡°It¡¯s no use. We¡¯ll just have to see a knight.¡±


    Loki giggled and cooed as they cautiously made their way downstairs. Em¡¯s face reddened in embarrassment every time someone raised an eyebrow at her nightgown.


    But what was she supposed to do? Get dressed while Loki was pretending to be a parasite?


    There was no way she was undressing in front of him! Absolutely not!


    At least Tracy had remembered to get Em¡¯s robe.


    They went the back ways to avoid the Imperial entourage as much as possible. And finally outside.


    They snuck to the knight¡¯s training grounds.


    Em would sometimes come to the training grounds to watch Flint spar. After that first time, and knowing she¡¯d eventually start learning herself, she came out of curiosity.


    But Flint always sparred after lunch. This was the first time she¡¯d come before breakfast, when he did his exercise and drill routines. As they walked onto the training grounds, she could see Flint at the other end.


    Running.


    Of course he was running.


    ¡°Now, what do we owe to this visit, Lady Emmaline?¡±


    Em didn¡¯t see Ralph coming until he lowered himself to one knee in front of her. Bowing his head respectfully.


    Not waiting for Flint to get to her side of the field, she pouted and lifted her leg.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±


    He gingerly took her foot to look at the blob. Loki¡¯s whole body gurgled and bubbled as he shifted around.


    It made Em¡¯s skin goosebump, and she grimaced.


    ¡°It¡¯s Loki. He won¡¯t get off!¡±


    ¡°Loki, is it?¡± Ralph put on a serious expression and poked the blob. Not at all afraid of the slime that stuck and gooed with his finger as he pulled it away. ¡°Now, here I was thinking the god of mischief was a handsome fellow.¡±


    Em huffed. Ralph was teasing her!


    ¡°I¡¯m serious! He doesn¡¯t have to look like that. He¡¯s just playing another joke.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the fuss here?¡±


    Em jumped. When had Flint gotten there?! Did he finish going around or did he cut across the field?


    Either way, her brother also leaned over. His expression was grave with none of Ralph¡¯s teasing behind it.


    ¡°She says its name is Loki.¡± Ralph tapped it and more slime strings attached to his finger again. ¡°Looks like a common slime, sir.¡±


    ¡°I can see that. How did it get onto the grounds?¡±


    ¡°Probably the breach in the west wall. Kimball was saying yesterday that he still had about three weeks worth of calculations and casting to fix the wards.¡±


    Flint grunted.


    ¡°Someone run to the kitchen and bring back a wedge of cheese.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not a slime!¡± Em would have stomped her foot if she wasn¡¯t already balancing on only one. ¡°He¡¯s Loki. And he threw up my shoes onto my bed.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± To her annoyance, she clearly read the relief in Flint¡¯s face. ¡°I see. So that¡¯s what took your shoes.¡±


    They don¡¯t believe me.


    She glared at the slime and he cheekily made a small tentacle out of himself to wave at her.


    ¡°Is it dangerous?¡± Tracy wrung her hands. Finally, showing the anxiety she¡¯d been feeling all along. ¡°Will it hurt her?¡±


    ¡°No, no. Slimes only get dangerous if they¡¯ve been absorbing death orbs. Mostly, they¡¯re just pests.¡±


    Ralph tapped the blob again. This time Em had to look away, gagging. It reminded her sooo much of snot. The thought made her gag again.


    ¡°Stop it, Ralph. That¡¯s so gross!¡±


    The man laughed, and someone returned with the wedge of cheese.


    Now they had a group surrounding them, and Ralph made a show of accepting the cheese. Which the other knight presented like it was the crown jewels. Everyone laughed as Ralph waved the cheese just out of the blob¡¯s reach.


    Loki, playing a good little slime, reached out a tentacle. Not long enough, he inched off of Em¡¯s ankle. Keeping a tentacle wrapped around her as he stretched and stretched¡­


    Flint impatiently grabbed Loki by the middle and yanked. Since he was no longer holding on with most of his body, he easily came free.


    With a squeal of protest that made everyone wince.


    Then he oozed. Slime dripping around Flint¡¯s fingers.

 Ep. 31 - World Class Actor

    ¡°Eew!¡±


    Both Em and Tracy took a few hurried steps back.


    ¡°Calm down. Give me that cheese.¡±


    Flint calmly fed the little slime ball and to Em¡¯s amazement, the ¡®sliminess¡¯ of it vanished. He smiled at Em¡¯s open mouth.


    ¡°Slime ooze is to attract prey,¡± he explained to Em. ¡°They only get like that when they¡¯re hungry enough to eat something that moves.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Slimes generally eat decomposing plants, carrion, pig slop, that sort of thing. But sometimes they can¡¯t find any of that, so they have to attract live prey.¡±


    Em narrowed her eyes at the blob.


    ¡°Was he trying to eat me?¡±


    Flint laughed, surprising everyone.


    ¡°You¡¯re too big. More likely it was using you as a ride.¡± He patted the blob then held it out to her. ¡°Take it.¡±


    Em scowled. ¡°I don¡¯t want to. He ate my shoes.¡±


    ¡°Leather. Makes sense.¡± When she still didn¡¯t move to take the blob, Flint lowered himself to one knee. Smiling. ¡°Slimes make good pets if you take care of them.¡±


    ¡°But he¡¯s gross.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re a rare find. Even out in the wild, you don¡¯t find them much. You may never get another chance.¡±


    Em folded her arms. Considering.


    Maybe this was one step closer to getting Loki to help her. Instead of just pranking her.


    Reluctantly, she nodded and took the blob from her brother. She flinched, expecting it to ooze again. Instead, it felt more like dense jello and it rolled in her hands with a contented purr.


    ¡°Have you told her, yet?¡±


    Em looked up. ¡°Told me what?¡±


    ¡°Not yet, sir.¡± Tracy shot the blob a wary look as she put a hand on Em¡¯s head. ¡°You¡¯ve been invited to join the master and his Highness for their inspection.¡±


    ¡°Ordered to,¡± Flint corrected grimly. ¡°Just make a show of being exhausted and whiny about an hour in and I¡¯ll be able to send you off.¡±


    ¡°What are we inspecting?¡±


    ¡°The supply storage and its most recent paperwork. Then a tour of the building and grounds if that doesn¡¯t take too long.¡±


    Em nodded and cradled the slime against her stomach. Like holding a dog the wrong way. Loki didn¡¯t seem to mind, wrapping his tentacles around her arm.


    ¡°Ok.¡±


    ¡°Good. Now, get dressed. I¡¯ll see you at breakfast.¡±


    Since boys¡¯ clothes lacked frills, hard to reach buttons and ties, and other pretty but stupid extras, Em had dressed herself for a while now. Which meant Tracy dropped her off at her room with a warning not to get into trouble.


    Emmaline never got into trouble, Em thought ruefully as she looked down at the blob


    ¡°Why didn''t you talk to them?¡±


    ¡°Can you see a world class actor breaking character with such a willing audience?¡±


    Em glared. Then dumped him in her still open closet.


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    Hastily Loki put a tentacle out so she couldn''t close the door.


    ¡°Relax. I''m just getting dressed. And you better not peek!¡±


    ¡°You realize I''m a god, right?¡±


    ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°I can see through walls if I want to.¡±


    ¡°You know what? You can just shut up.¡±


    With a glare, she pushed his tentacle in and closed the door with a snap. Before he could say anything else disturbing. Then she listened to him bang and sing while she changed on high speed.


    When she opened the door, she started in surprise.


    He''d made a little living room set and was reclining in a little armchair. She covered her face.


    Now it was feeling like a real dream. About time.


    ¡°Where now?¡± asked Loki cheerfully.


    ¡°To the nearest loony bin?¡±


    ¡°Well, I have been accused of insanity before¡­¡±


    Loki rode her shoulder down to breakfast.


    The dining room was surprisingly empty. Not only were there fewer people, but someone had pushed the two other long tables against the wall.


    The room also had a subdued, stifled air to it that made Em wince in the doorway.


    As though Flint were watching for her, he raised a hand at the last of the three tables. Making eye contact as he did so.


    Warily, Em walked in.


    Five people. Flint, the crown prince, Ralph, another of Flint¡¯s aides, and¡­


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    The woman with the red-streaked hair.


    Despite being a guest and not actually master of the castle, the crown prince had taken the head of the table. Leaving Flint to sit to his right, Ralph and the other aide to his left, and the woman sitting with a chair in between her and Flint.


    Apparently that was where Em was supposed to sit.


    ¡°... My people have been preparing the documents for several days now. They should be ready when we get there.¡±


    ¡°Good. Tell me about the situation on the north and west borders?¡±


    While Flint calmly walked through rebel and monster activity, Em sat next to him. And looked up, puzzled, as Tracy put a bowl in front of her. Tracy hadn¡¯t served Em meals even at her parent¡¯s manor.


    That wasn¡¯t her job.


    But, technically, Tracy was one of the few actual servants in the entire castle.


    Maybe that was why?


    Em mouthed a thank you and picked up her spoon to eat her m¨¹sli, which was sort of like cereal but with whole oats and berries.


    ¡°Yum!¡± she whispered. Someone had put honey in it today! Honey and milk. She was in heaven.


    ¡°That looks good.¡±


    Em jumped and realized the woman was watching her. Not paying attention to her empty plate, the woman was leaning on one hand and smiling at Em through her hair. When Em didn¡¯t answer, the woman lowered her voice more and leaned closer.


    ¡°You¡¯re Emmaline, yes?¡±


    Em nodded. Not sure if she wanted to speak to this woman.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to be shy, Em. I used to work under your brother.¡±


    Em¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°You did?¡±


    ¡°Yes. He was taciturn, demanding, and highly predictable to all but the enemy. But he was a good boss.¡± The woman smiled, which made her face go from pretty to glowing. ¡°I was almost afraid his little sister might be a bit like him.¡±


    ¡°A good boss?¡± Em asked dryly.


    The woman laughed. While their whispers hadn¡¯t phased the men, her laughter made Thiago break off mid-sentence with a scowl. His words came out icy.


    ¡°Care to share, Madeline?¡±


    ¡°Just exchanging views on m¨¹sli ingredients, your highness. Do you prefer honeyed milk or yogurt?¡±


    He narrowed his eyes. ¡°If you can¡¯t keep your manners, then you should refrain from speaking.¡±


    The woman held up her hands in surrender and returned her attention back to her plate. Which had been replaced with her second and final course of the meal.


    Meanwhile, Em was staring at her. Open mouthed.


    Madeline.


    This was Madeline Dulce?!


    Wait?!


    Did Madeline ever serve anywhere near where Flint had been?


    Em wrinkled her forehead and stared down at her food. As far as she remembered, that particular character had studied sorcery until she came of age. Then immediately began working for Thiago as a lovestruck fiancee.


    Well¡­ She supposed ¡®studied sorcery¡¯ could have a lot of applications.


    Now that she¡¯d been dreaming up this world, she¡¯d learned through bits and pieces of Emmaline¡¯s memory that sorcery training really depended on the sorcerer. And what the sorcerer intended to use their talents for.


    If Madeline Dulce had served under Flint, then she¡¯d probably been in the middle of her combat studies and needed experience.


    It hurt, though. Hearing the name Madeline.


    This was Maddie¡¯s namesake.


    Another tragic character in the novel. She¡¯d known from the start that Thiago was a rat¡­ and still tried to win his love however she could. Becoming increasingly cynical and still acting at his every beck and call.


    After birthing two healthy, legitimate heirs, Thiago kills Madeline himself. Laughing over her corpse and telling the oldest child, ¡°You can¡¯t have any weaknesses.¡±


    Then her two children had killed each other, leaving Emmaline¡¯s child and another concubine¡¯s child to battle it out for the throne after the old Thiago died. The resulting war, explained in three paragraphs, lead to the entire ruin of the Empire.


    It was a mess.


    A burning homesickness swept through her and Em struggled not to cry. Maddie. She wanted to go home. She wanted Maddie.


    And she felt like such a child the way her heart ached and her stomach clenched.


    ¡°You should eat.¡± Em jumped at Madeline¡¯s whisper. ¡°It¡¯s going to be a long day.¡±


    If Em had had a choice, she would have gone back to her room to cry out her misery. Instead, she fed a buttered roll to Loki and tried to ignore the woman next to her.


    Someone with Maddie¡¯s name but a completely different face. Completely different.


    Before the meal was even over, Madeline pulled out a cigarette and leaned back in her chair. She lit it with a snap of her fingers, took one drag, then caught Em¡¯s eye. With a grimace, she put it out. Leaving a burn mark on the table.


    ¡°Sorry, kid. I¡¯m feeling a bit¡­ tense this morning. I wasn¡¯t thinking.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s ok.¡±


    To Em¡¯s surprise and bewilderment, Madeline patted her head. Then leaned back in her chair again, eyes closed and chin tilted up.


    Since the adults had started eating first, Em had to finish quickly before they got up. Fortunately, rolls and her m¨¹sli granola were all she was expected to eat before the others pushed back their chairs.


    Then began the countdown to when she could throw a pretend tantrum and be released from boredom.


    Reluctantly, she followed the adults to the supply storage. Which turned out to be a huge basement, making Em wonder if this castle had a dungeon somewhere. Maybe in a tower instead of underground?


    Down there, it was cool. Not damp, as Em expected, just cool. And on the dark side. What few lights there were were concentrated in the main room and they had to grab magicked torches or real candles if they wanted to go to any of the secondary rooms and corridors.


    Em wrapped her arms around herself as Thiago inspected the wine in the farthest back room.


    Pear and apple wine.


    Em felt silly. She¡¯d never drank before because of her illness (and being under age, though Maddie wouldn¡¯t have objected as much as she should¡¯ve on that count). But Em had assumed any flavor not grape was just that. A flavor.


    Not that the wine was made of those fruits.


    Here pear and apple were the most popular ingredients, apparently.


    And Prince Thiago was snidely sure they were inferior to the delicate grape wines in the capital.


    Em huffed.


    ¡°I know. Ridiculous, isn¡¯t it?


    Em flinched and peeked up at Madeline. The woman had remained unusually close. Arms folded, not commenting on the men¡¯s work. But when she whispered to Em, she leaned over so she was close to Em¡¯s ear.


    ¡°What are you supposed to be doing?¡± Em whispered back to her.


    ¡°I¡¯m just decoration. What are you supposed to be doing?¡±


    Em flashed a shared, long suffering smile with the woman.


    No matter how pathetic Madeline was in the novel, Em¡¯s dream version of her gave her a little more umph and spice. And Em liked it.


    Maybe she¡¯d always been like that. She just hadn¡¯t gotten to see it because Thiago was the protagonist. And he saw Madeline as pathetic, so the reader did, too.


    ¡°Madeline!¡±


    They both jumped. Feeling like they¡¯d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar as they both whipped toward a scowling Thiago.


    ¡°What do you think of this? Isn¡¯t it a waste of time to be making these sub-par wines when they should be focusing on, say, building projects?¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Madeline purred. ¡°Whatever you say, my dear.¡±


    He relaxed at the visible acknowledgement of his superior hold on Madeline¡¯s attention. Then turned back to what he¡¯d been doing.


    Criticising everything Flint had done so far.


    Madeline¡¯s smile turned sour. The woman didn¡¯t try to speak to Em again before Em could finally free herself from the situation.


    As Flint hinted before, all it took was a little bit of whining.

 Ep. 32 - Remembering

    It was a very long day.


    No, a very long few days.


    The Crown Prince kept insisting Em joined them. Flint wasn¡¯t completely sure, but he thought it might be to keep him on edge. If that was Thiago¡¯s strategy, then it worked.


    It was only when Em acted like a child and began interfering with the work that Flint could send her away.


    The problem was, Em had to force it.


    Not that she was mature in every way, but Em usually wasn¡¯t a demanding or childish presence. Sometimes she had an emotional break-down and that one time tantrum. The rest of the time, she wore whining and acting out like a costume.


    Flint wasn¡¯t certain Thiago didn¡¯t see through her acts.


    Flint did. It was training that kept him from wincing. And he sent more than one prayer that he was the only one who saw her behavior for what it was.


    But he needed her to leave. It was the only way he could fully concentrate on the task at hand.


    Once they were done with the estate, they left for the reeves. But, not the ones he selected. Thiago casually vetoed his selections and made his own instead.


    Of the three reeves he chose, two of them were the worst in the March.


    For the first one, Flint convinced the prince to let Em stay home. Because it would be an overnight stay if she went. But not the second.


    The final reeve the prince would inspect on his way back home. Which meant another long ride toward the border.


    It was annoying by itself, but again the prince insisted that Em join them. Which doubled the annoyance factor.


    It was almost over.


    With the inspection of the second reeve done, the prince would be returning to the Capital in the morning. Flint would take the carriage to the border reeve for Em¡¯s comfort, then bid the royal couple goodbye once the last inspection was done.


    That was tomorrow''s trip.


    Tonight, they were just getting back from the latest reeve long after dark.


    Em had ridden her own pony to the reeve, played with some of the reeve¡¯s few children while the adults did their inspection, then sleepily rode with him on the way back.


    She fell asleep soon after sunset and would shift and mumble uncomfortably as she leaned against him. Flint looked down at her often. Making sure she didn¡¯t fall¡­ while not acknowledging the small smiles he gave her.


    She was a very patient child.


    ¡°There are a few more documents I¡¯d like to go over before bed,¡± Thiago announced when they reached the manor¡¯s yard.


    Flint winced when Em flinched awake at the sound of the other man¡¯s voice.


    Under cover of darkness, Flint shot Thiago a scowl.


    ¡°Flint?¡± Em mumbled.


    ¡°Shh, go back to sleep.¡± Flint swung down from the horse and pulled Em into his arms.


    To his relief, she promptly did as he told her. Snuggling into his shoulder.


    That only lasted a moment as Em¡¯s maid came down the steps and offered to take her. Em was too big for the maid to be carrying (for anyone to be carrying, really), but he needed to deal with the prince. Reluctantly, he handed his sister over.


    ¡°Did you hear me, Baron?¡±


    ¡°Yes, those documents are in my study.¡±


    Flint didn¡¯t look at the prince as he spoke. Instead, watching the maid walk away with Em in her arms.


    ¡°You must adore your sister.¡±


    Flint flinched and returned his attention to the prince.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that natural, your highness?¡±


    ¡°Hmm.¡± Thiago watched him with a look Flint didn¡¯t like. Like a cat who¡¯d found a mouse hole. ¡°Shall we?¡± He waved toward the house.


    ¡°You two do as you wish. I¡¯m going to bed.¡±


    Lady Madeline handed her reins to a waiting stable hand then stalked toward the building.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see you soon, love.¡±


    Unlike Flint, Madeline couldn¡¯t hide her flinch. And she was under the lantern when it happened. She didn¡¯t look back and didn¡¯t answer as she stomped inside.


    ¡°I wonder what got under her skin?¡±


    Thiago¡¯s question was more dismissive than curious. So Fint didn¡¯t bother trying to find an answer. Ignoring the quiet activity of his people taking care of horses and going to bed themselves, he led the prince to his study.


    Where the prince kept him up even later with the same questions he¡¯d asked the first day.


    Flint realized that this delay meant they wouldn¡¯t be leaving the castle tomorrow. Not unless they wanted to leave late in the afternoon.


    Bastard.


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    Tiredly, he escorted the prince to his room and headed to bed himself. Barely glancing at Lady Madeline¡¯s door as he went.


    Once in his room, instead of going straight to bed, he pulled a bottle of strong whisky off the top shelf of his wardrobe and popped it open. Drinking straight from the bottle as he stood by the window.


    Maybe it was because he¡¯d just passed her door. Maybe it was because he was agitated. But his mind drifted to the first night of the royal couple¡¯s arrival.


    When he saw Madeline breathing through a panic attack outside her door.


    His hand shook, and he took three more gulps than he meant to.


    That wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d seen her panic attacks.


    The first time had been after a battle with the Allgris. She had, as usual, pushed herself beyond her limit. Normally, he didn¡¯t personally monitor their magic wielders (he had other people do that).


    But she was different.


    A month after her mercenary band joined them, she said something. He couldn¡¯t remember now what it was, but at the time it jogged his memory. He suddenly realized where he thought he¡¯d seen her before. And who she was.


    Dulce. The sorceress of House Dulce.


    He swore long and loud, pulled her into his tent, and confronted her.


    Why he didn¡¯t turn her in and send her home, he still didn¡¯t know. None of her arguments were valid¡­


    It was his duty to send her home.


    He only remembered one of those arguments though. Just one. Perhaps it was the one that was the deciding factor for him, he wasn¡¯t sure.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather be miserable here than have that ass touching me!¡±


    How old was she at the time? Eighteen? Nineteen? Barely of age. And as far as he knew, she¡¯d run away from home when she was fifteen. A talented sorceress even then, it wasn¡¯t hard for her to pretend to be merely a mage for a year or two. Add to that, she looked a few years older than she was.


    As a woman, she was an oddity but not out of place.


    No one thought to look for her in a war zone.


    It occurred to him she was fifteen or younger if she was referring to someone back home¡­ Someone who''d been¡­


    Even now, it made him angry.


    In any case, he hadn¡¯t sent her back.


    It was on the condition that she accepted a place in his own knightage, where he could monitor her. And when she was finally discovered and dragged back by the Crown Prince¡¯s people two years later, he would have admitted to knowing who she was and purposefully hiding her.


    Except she denied it.


    Vehemently and with poisonous looks at him.


    He was not a stranger to remaining silent when it would do no good for anyone to speak up.


    Why was he thinking about this again? He took another sip of the whiskey and popped the cork back in.


    Ah, yes, her first panic attack in front of him.


    It was a strange thing that had caused it, too. A wagon had gotten out of control and ran into the side of a tree. Lady Madeline¡¯s legs collapsed right then, and she covered her head.


    It was the worst of her attacks he¡¯d ever seen. But because of that first one, he quickly learned to spot the others.


    If she¡¯d lost control of her magic, even once, then he would have been forced to send her away. But she never did and always rallied when they needed her. So he¡¯d selfishly kept her around, even knowing how much more hurt she would probably bear.


    He put the bottle away before he gave into the temptation to drink the rest of it. Then went to bed without changing, only leaving his boots beside the bed.


    When he went to his study late the next morning, he found a new stone sitting in the middle of his paperwork.


    Patience.


    For some reason, Em had chosen a tree with a noose hanging from it in the background. He choked on an unexpected laugh before putting it on his mantle with the others.


    As he predicted the night before, Thiago did not get up until after the noon meal. It gave Flint time to go over the reports he was sending back with the prince. As well as the copies he intended to send separately.


    Just to make sure the Emperor received them.


    When Thiago came, he plunked a scroll on Flint¡¯s desk before Flint had time to stand and bow.


    ¡°Here. This is what you¡¯ve been waiting for, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Flint eyed the scroll warily.


    ¡°I thought you wished to give it to me once we saw the last reeve, your highness.¡±


    Thiago shrugged casually.


    ¡°Despite the atrocious state of things, I¡¯m convinced you¡¯ve done much to restore the area. As much as is possible for the short time you¡¯ve been here.¡±


    Flint hesitated.


    ¡°Thank you¡­ your highness.¡±


    He¡¯s being too gracious, Flint thought. Studying the man as he continued talking, suddenly praising everything he¡¯d seen. What are you up to?


    ¡°Oh, by the way.¡± Thiago suddenly leaned forward on the desk, smiling benevolently. ¡°I heard Madeline gave you a reward for your service to her a while back.¡±


    Flint tensed. Suddenly and horribly aware of the lump in his pocket.


    He hadn''t gone a day without it on him. Since that was her request.


    His hand flinched, almost reaching for the lump. Though he wasn¡¯t sure what he wanted to do. Protect it, maybe?


    What did she tell Thiago?


    He was almost sweating with worry, though his face remained unreadable.


    ¡°More of an unwanted memento, your highness. I gave her a mana stone for her work when she first joined my knightage. She was just returning it, though I did not expect it back. In fact, I had forgotten about it.¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡±


    Flint bowed his head.


    ¡°I think she wanted to reminisce a bit as well on that occasion. I¡¯m the only one of the right rank for her highness to talk to, I¡¯m afraid. No matter how uncomfortable it makes us.¡±


    ¡°Uncomfortable?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s the Crown Princess, I am but a military man.¡± Pause. ¡°I suppose I was the only one uncomfortable.¡±


    Thiago didn¡¯t reply for a heartbeat. Then he threw back his head in a laugh.


    ¡°That¡¯s because you have sense!¡± Then, still smiling, he added the poison. ¡°Continue to feel uncomfortable. It is only good and right to reverence the imperial family.¡±


    Flint tilted his head again. Something aching in his chest.


    ¡°I won¡¯t forget, your highness.¡±


    Thiago stood up and stretched, forcing Flint to stand in respect.


    ¡°Get some rest today, Grimshaw. We¡¯ll set out in the morning. Don¡¯t forget to bring your sister.¡±


    Flint clenched his jaw. Relieved the man was leaving.


    ¡°Oh, by the way.¡± Casually, Thiago turned in the doorway. Smiling benevolently. ¡°I thought I¡¯d inform you the Duke over your March will be appointed at my wedding.¡±


    Ah. Flint was wondering when that would happen.


    ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you want to know who it is? After all, it is the man you¡¯ll have to report to.¡±


    ¡°Of course I wish to know.¡± Flint calmly straightened a stack of already straight papers and put them aside. ¡°But it is not my place to ask.¡±


    ¡°After much debate with my advisors, we¡¯ve chosen Duke Waghorn as your superior. For his admirable loyalty to the Empire.¡±


    Flint didn¡¯t flinch.

 Ep. 33 - If You Kill Him…

    On the surface, it was a logical choice.


    If they didn¡¯t intend to create a new Dukedom and appoint a new title, there were only two dukes close enough to the old Lycan border to choose from. Waghorn was also one of the Crown Prince¡¯s best supporters.


    And a micromanager.


    Flint didn¡¯t know what he¡¯d done to earn the Crown Prince¡¯s ire, but he¡¯d felt before that Thiago was keeping a strict eye on him.


    So the politics continue.


    Flint bowed his head in acknowledgement.


    ¡°He is a wise choice, your highness. I look forward to working for him.¡±


    The door closed with a bang. Then sluggishly opened again by itself. The door was too damaged to stay closed without extra wiggling. Flint calmly crossed the room and lifted the door a fraction to close it.


    It clicked.


    Then Flint¡¯s face twisted in an uncharacteristic snarl.


    ***


    Em watched from the sidelines as Prince trained.


    She knew any moment she¡¯d wake up and be whisked away from this place. She also knew that technically she didn¡¯t need to keep her distance. Their weapons would go right through her if she got too close.


    Still, it was a psychological thing. Stay away from the sharp, shiny objects flying around at what seemed like warp speeds.


    For the sixth time, the sword was smashed right out of Prince¡¯s hands and it skidded across the court.


    This time close to Em.


    Prince hid his limp well as he went to retrieve the weapon. Sweat soaking his hair and dripping down his back. Em glanced at a small water barrel at the end of her bench. Wishing she could toss it into his face and remind him to drink.


    Heat and exertion could be dangerous without enough water.


    ¡°What happened to the strength you showed me the first time we dueled?¡±


    Prince¡¯s sparring partner propped himself on his own weapon. Scowling thoughtfully as Prince picked up his sword.


    He was a giant man. Unfairly huge next to Prince¡¯s small, still on the child side stature. Though Em had noticed Prince had grown by a couple of inches in the last few weeks and his frame was now filling out.


    Thank the gods!


    ¡°I would have died in that match if I¡¯d given in,¡± Prince retorted. Though Em thought she saw some other grim emotion flit through his eyes before he turned back to the big man. ¡°And I think you were going easy on me, mister Beastman.¡±


    The man waved his hand in annoyance.


    ¡°I¡¯ve told you before boy, just Beast.¡±


    The man picked up a pair of spectacles hanging from his neck and perched them on his nose. Then he waved for Prince to join him.


    ¡°Get into your ready stance. Yes, that¡¯s it. Hmm, your stance is too narrow. Try this and hold your wrists like this.¡±


    Em watched as Beastman corrected Prince¡¯s stance and hold, leaning forward.


    Since she wasn¡¯t right next to Prince, her view of the room was blackened at the corners. So she wasn¡¯t prepared for when the woman Zaria suddenly stepped out of the blackness and approached them.


    ¡°You¡¯re not a fair opponent, Beast.¡± She hefted her own weapon, flashing a smile. ¡°Give me a chance.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°The boy will learn more from me.¡±


    ¡°And you might take out your competition before entering the ring.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± She batted her eyelids at him. ¡°You don¡¯t trust me?¡±


    ¡°I know you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± Prince held up a hand to get the adults¡¯ attention. ¡°On one condition.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡± Zaria smiled. Now turning her eyelashes on Prince.


    Em scowled at her and stood up. Moving closer so she didn¡¯t miss anything.


    ¡°If I win, you¡¯ll stop poisoning my food and fight me squarely.¡±


    Beastman made an angry sound as he turned his furious look on the woman. She didn¡¯t so much as flinch under that glare. Em also glared at her, but that was just as effective.


    ¡°And if I win?¡±


    Prince smiled grimly. ¡°I imagine I¡¯ll be injured, increasing your chances tomorrow. Do you need anything else?¡±


    She threw back her head in a guffaw.


    ¡°I suppose not! Very well, I agree to the terms.¡± She took a step back and dropped into a ready position. Grinning nastily. ¡°Ready, child?¡±


    Beastman leaned down and hissed close to her ear, ¡°If you kill him, Zaria, I¡¯ll make sure you die in our next bout.¡±


    Without looking at him, she nodded. Keeping her eyes fixed on Prince.


    Prince might have been much too small to face Beastman, but he was nearly as tall as the slight Zaria and her equal in strength. Perhaps stronger. So, the match started with the two of them nearly matching each other at every turn.


    Em paced at the edge of the match. Anxious. Not sure she¡¯d be there if something went wrong, but ready to jump in if Prince needed her.


    Soon, it became apparent that Zaria was faster.


    She pushed Prince back, her movements so quick he barely had time to block her. Again and again and again.


    She¡¯d almost pushed him to the benches when Em blinked.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    That¡¯s what it felt like, anyway.


    Prince twisted his sword in a swift pattern, too fast to see properly. And suddenly, Zaria went from aggressively winning¡­ to her weapon cracking and sliding several feet away.


    Prince pointed his blade tip at Zaria¡¯s throat and the room fell into silence. The silence was loud compared to the metallic clanks of a second ago.


    ¡°How¡­ in the hell¡­?!¡±


    Zaria sputtered as she looked between Prince and her weapon.


    ¡°I win.¡±


    ¡°I can see that!¡± Zaria shouted. ¡°How?! I¡¯ve never seen a move like that.¡±


    Prince smiled and lowered his sword. He didn¡¯t answer.


    ¡°Gray!¡±


    ¡°Enough, Zaria.¡± Beastman patted her on the head, earning himself a scowl as he beamed at Prince. ¡°That was impressive, boy.¡±


    Prince bowed his head in acknowledgement.


    ¡°Keep it under your belt. It may save your life one day. Zaria, remember the deal-¡±


    ¡°Show me,¡± Zaria demanded. ¡°Show me again, damn it!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not that dumb.¡±


    Prince turned away and stalked to the bench. Finally reaching for the water barrel.


    Em blinked, nearly tumbling off the carriage bench when the carriage came to an abrupt halt. Sleepily, she rubbed her eyes and looked up at Tracy. Who was also waking up from a doze.


    With a feeling of d¨¦j¨¤ vu, Em rolled off the bench and onto the opposite bench to stick her head out of the window.


    ¡°Is this the reeve?¡± she asked Tracy.


    Who shrugged as she also moved to look.


    The door opened, and a knight bowed. ¡°May I help you down, my lady?¡±


    Em took his hand and eagerly hopped out of the carriage.


    The reeve house and its adjacent buildings were big, but not as big as the castle. However, there were more people around. Half of them were in some sort of uniform, both as guards and as servants.


    Em studied them as she waited to be told what to do.


    ¡°Now, this is more like it!¡±


    The Crown Prince swung out of his saddle. Beaming.


    ¡°Really, Grimshaw. If you can achieve this in one place, you ought to do it everywhere else. This reeve is marvelous compared to the other dumps.¡±


    Flint grunted and swung down from his horse. He met Em¡¯s eye briefly, scanning her over to make sure she was alright, then turned back to the happy Thiago.


    ¡°I sent word ahead, so there should be rooms prepared.¡±


    Em looked around again as Tracy talked to the servants, telling them where each of the bags lashed to the carriage were to go.


    Now that she¡¯d met Todd, seen the gardeners regularly, and gone to a reeve, she felt confident she could pick out the Lycans. Even if they weren¡¯t the ones with their heads ducked and trying to remain unnoticed.


    There were a lot of them here.


    ¡°Em.¡±


    With a flinch of surprise, she quickly returned her attention to the ¡®important people¡¯ and ran to catch up.


    Slipping her hand into Flint¡¯s.


    Pleased when he acted like she¡¯d done nothing strange. He¡¯s getting used to it, she thought smugly as she followed them inside.


    ¡°Next time I visit,¡± the Crown Prince was saying, ¡°I expect the March castle to be at least this grand.¡±


    ¡°I will do my best, your highness.¡±


    While the adults talked endlessly about the surroundings (which Em found annoying), she noticed someone peeking out a doorway in the foyer. That door must¡¯ve led to a reception room of some sort.


    He wasn¡¯t there long before jerking back out of sight.


    Em glanced up at Flint. He was still clenching her hand and politely trying to change the subject.


    ¡°Flint?¡±


    ¡°... Yes, your highness. I will look into tapestries¡­¡±


    She tugged. ¡°Flint?¡±


    ¡°Emmaline Grimshaw.¡±


    She flinched and looked up into the Crown Prince¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°It¡¯s rude to interrupt a conversation with the royal family.¡±


    Ice couldn¡¯t have frozen the world more than those words and his tone. They swept with a chill over the room, catching everyone in its web.


    Em instinctively stepped closer to Flint. Holding his hand harder.


    ¡°Children aren¡¯t meant to be cooped up in a carriage for days.¡±


    Madeline abruptly stepped between Em and that icy glare. Deftly, she pulled Em¡¯s hand out of Flint¡¯s grasp and wrapped her fingers warmly around Em¡¯s small ones.


    ¡°Come, little one. Let¡¯s leave the men to their work. I¡¯m dying to see my room and take a nap.¡±


    ¡°Madeline-¡±


    She blew a kiss at Thiago¡¯s scowl but marched determinedly away. Dragging Em with her.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t he scare you?¡±


    They were barely out of hearing range when Em couldn¡¯t take it anymore. She blurted it out without thinking.


    ¡°Yes. And if I were you, I¡¯d say nothing in his presence.¡±


    ¡°Even if I pee on the floor?¡±


    Madeline stopped walking so abruptly that Em ran into her. The woman recovered quickly and roared with laughter. Em scowled.


    She didn¡¯t think it was funny.


    The Crown Princess dropped to one knee, her grin turning into something soft but grim as she pushed hair behind Em¡¯s ear.


    ¡°Yes. He may remember you with distaste, but it¡¯s better to make yourself an object of disdain rather than of interest. Do you understand?¡±


    Em nodded.


    ¡°You.¡± Madeline waved at a hovering maid. ¡°Take Lady Emmaline somewhere she can relieve herself. And send someone to lead me to my room.¡±


    ¡°Y-yes, ma-ma¡¯am,¡± the woman stuttered.


    Em looked back once. Unsure how to interpret the look on Lady Madeline¡¯s face as she watched Em leave.


    There was more in her expression, but the only thing Em recognized was sadness.


    The maid took Em to her temporary room, which was bigger and fancier than her own rooms back at Silver Vale castle. Closer to what she¡¯d been used to in the barony. Once she was done ¡®relieving herself¡¯ she plotted.


    How to explore without all the servants hovering over her?


    More importantly, how to find that man she¡¯d seen earlier?


    ¡°Loki?¡± she whispered. ¡°Did you follow me?¡±


    ¡°Of course I did.¡±


    The slime slid out of her bag, which she¡¯d carelessly flung onto the bed. And which had had nothing but a book, a notebook, and a pencil only a few minutes ago.


    Em grinned.


    He was supposed to be in a crate back at the knights¡¯ quarters. Of course he left. They were probably wondering how the heck he got out.


    She held out a hand to him. ¡°Want to cause some mischief?¡±


    Over the course of Thiago¡¯s visit, she¡¯d discovered that the trick for getting Loki¡¯s cooperation was to turn everything into a game.


    And sneaking around was totally up Loki¡¯s alley.


    Whenever they saw a servant who might cause them trouble, they had a quick whispered conversation about how best to handle the situation.


    Mop buckets spilled, people tripped, and Loki threw his voice to call their names around corners so they¡¯d leave to investigate.


    It was actually a lot more fun than Em wanted to admit.


    ¡°What are we looking for?¡±


    He was talking in her head. Probably to avoid breaking character. She pulled him out of her pocket and put him on her shoulder.


    ¡°I saw someone earlier. I want to talk to him.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    Em told him the story about Laisha and her daddy in a whisper. Looking around the next corner.


    ¡°Why did you stop them? Sounds like she needed a good telling off.¡±


    Em shot him a glare.


    ¡°Are you one of those bad people who like causing pain?¡±

 Ep. 34 - He’s Alive

    The slime made an audible snorting sound. Much like the sound a horse makes.


    ¡°I¡¯m the god of mischief. Not the god of destruction.¡±


    ¡°The god of destruction likes pain?¡±


    ¡°Pain, torture, death. He¡¯s different from the god of the dead, but they¡¯re close allies. I believe they eat three day grave hearts together on Saturdays.¡±


    Em gagged.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± she looked away. A little white. ¡°I thought you¡¯d like seeing a child getting into more trouble.¡±


    He sighed.


    ¡°Emmaline, there is a difference between good-natured shenanigans and danger. I would be all over encouraging a child to break a few eggs. Which would attract pests and drive the cook crazy. I would never tell a child to run out in front of a moving carriage.¡±


    He said it so seriously that Em peeked at him. Just to make sure it was still Loki on her shoulder.


    ¡°I thought you¡¯d do anything to be amused.¡±


    The creature warped its body to give her a smile.


    ¡°I would do just about anything for amusement. But I won¡¯t come to harm if I¡¯m run over.¡±


    This was new information. Good information. As long as he wasn¡¯t lying, she now knew that Loki would never encourage her to hurt herself.


    She pondered over that and revised it.


    He wouldn¡¯t encourage it on purpose. When the danger was as obvious as getting run over. But, she¡¯d have to test him to see if his definition of ¡®dangerous¡¯ was the same as normal people.


    Still, it was good to know.


    ¡°Ah! New maid up ahead. How do we distract this one?¡±


    It was so much fun playing pranks on the servants that Em almost forgot her primary reason for the outing. But she remembered abruptly when she slid into a broom cubby on the first floor and peeked out. Watching Tracy half frantically asking someone if they¡¯d seen her.


    ¡°We¡¯re almost out of time,¡± she whispered to Loki.


    The creature bounced its upper half in agreement.


    ¡°Any ideas?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve checked everything inside the building. How about we go outside?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll be harder not to get caught.¡±


    He shrugged.


    ¡°Do you have a better idea?¡±


    Em ended up climbing out a window. Falling hard on her rump outside on the cobbles.


    Wincing, she rubbed her butt and looked around.


    Without a second thought, she dashed toward the stables.


    There was still a lot of activity going on in there. There were still a lot of horses to care for and put away from both escorts (Flint¡¯s and Thiago¡¯s). Em dashed around to the back, where the back door was open and she could see the carriage.


    There, she crouched down behind a carriage wheel and watched everyone.


    She heard Loki¡¯s snicker in her mind seconds before a big hand landed on her free shoulder.


    With a yelp, she spun on the spot and stared up at the man glaring down at her.


    ¡°What are you doing here, miss?¡±


    His tone was polite but there was an edge to it. She flushed.


    I was looking for you, she thought sheepishly.


    ¡°Hello, sir.¡±


    She stood up with as much dignity as she could, pretending to brush off her pants. The fronts were fine. But she wouldn¡¯t brush off her butt with him watching.


    ¡°How¡¯s Laisha?¡±


    Instead of answering, he crossed his arms.


    ¡°Little sorceress, why were you causing everyone so much trouble? Spilling mop water and tying shoes? Do you not have better things to do than harass people?¡±


    She gaped at him. Aghast. Then she turned her head to glare at Loki.


    He was following us?! And you knew!?


    Loki only wobbled.


    Like a good little slime.


    Worse, she¡¯d made herself a burden and didn¡¯t realize it. Feeling thoroughly scolded, she looked down at her twisting fingers.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. They would have sent me back to my room if they caught me.¡±


    It felt like a really, really lame excuse.


    She hunched her shoulders further.


    He sighed and crouched.


    ¡°Were just trying to explore?¡±


    His voice had gentled, which she hadn¡¯t expected. Peeking up, she saw his face had also softened.


    ¡°I saw you and I wanted to ask about Laisha.¡± She paused. ¡°And I didn¡¯t want that mean-old prince to see me talking to you. I didn¡¯t want to get you in trouble.¡±


    He chuckled.


    ¡°I appreciate that. Laisha¡¯s fine. She¡¯s with her aunt right now and will be sad to miss you.¡±


    Em beamed.


    ¡°Is there anything else? If not, go back inside.¡±


    ¡°Wait!¡±


    There was something else and Em impulsively grabbed his sleeve.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    She¡¯d meant to ask the gardeners. But even though they were polite, they were still hostile. And grieving. She couldn¡¯t bring herself to ask them when they were so obviously sad. And Todd wouldn¡¯t talk to her, either. Not yet.


    Besides, Todd was young enough he might not know.


    This was someone who owed her. And, maybe, it wouldn¡¯t be too big a request.


    ¡°I have a question.¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    She hesitated. Just for a second before blurting out her question.


    ¡°Your youngest prince, what¡¯s his name?¡±


    The man stiffened.


    ¡°There is only one prince in the Empire.¡± He looked toward the house, though they couldn¡¯t see it from inside the barn. ¡°Crown Prince Thiago Cyrin.¡±


    ¡°Not that jerk. The youngest Lycan prince. What¡¯s his name?¡±


    Pain.


    It didn¡¯t just flit across the man¡¯s face. He had to close his eyes and turn his chin, his body angling away from her in a mute desire to leave.


    ¡°He¡¯s long dead, miss. So it doesn¡¯t matter.¡±


    Em studied him for only a second. The pain was so raw and real, and he was struggling so much to tuck it away again¡­ And she was the reason it had surfaced¡­


    That was all the time she needed to fall back on her old preference.


    After all, this man didn¡¯t mean Prince any harm.


    ¡°No he isn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Miss-¡±


    ¡°I dream about him all the time. He¡¯s fifteen, right? And much bigger than me.¡± She stood on tiptoes to show his height. ¡°He has silver hair and red eyes. There are a lot of mean people around him who want to hurt him, but he¡¯s mostly ok.¡±


    The Lycan froze and looked at her incredulously.


    Normally, that look was fun. But this time his eyes were still clouded in pain.


    It suddenly wasn¡¯t just a fun game to see what they decided about her truth. For the first time, it was urgent that someone believed her.


    She grabbed his arm, looking earnestly up into his eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m not lying. I¡¯ve been dreaming about him for a while now. But you can¡¯t tell anyone.¡± She put a finger to her lips, face very serious. ¡°That mean Thiago will kill him if he finds out my Prince is still alive.¡±


    The man grasped her wrist, the one up on his shoulder.


    There were tears in his eyes but not belief. Maybe hope, but not belief.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he agreed hoarsely. ¡°When was the last time-?¡±


    ¡°I fell asleep in the carriage before we got here. I saw him then. He was limping, but the Beast man was watching out for him.¡±


    ¡°Beast man?¡±


    Em sat down, pulling the man¡¯s arm with her. Then whispered to him everything she¡¯d ever seen about Prince. Including the first dream, where he¡¯d been ¡®blessed¡¯ by the Egyptian priestess person.


    He listened intently.


    ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡±


    Em tilted her head. Considering.


    ¡°Because, if Prince is the one who can hurt Thiago, he¡¯s going to need help later. And because,¡± she hesitated. Then reached up to touch his cheek. ¡°You looked so sad. And I know you won¡¯t hurt Prince.¡±


    He choked on a laugh.


    He still didn¡¯t quite believe her, but the story had done something. He leaned back on the carriage and rubbed his face.


    ¡°Asher. His name was Asher Wyn.¡±


    Asher Wyn.


    Em smiled to herself.


    ¡°Why do you think he might hurt Prince Thiago?¡±


    Should she tell the truth about that? She frowned, considering.


    There was a time in the novel when the rebellion had peaked. Prince Thiago¡¯s actions had caused so much unrest that hundreds, no, thousands, of people had gathered to fight him.


    Including many Lycan.


    It had ended with the bloodiest, cruelest battle in the entire book. With Thiago victorious. None of them knew Thiago was unbeatable. Maybe if they had, it wouldn¡¯t have ended that way.


    She looked up. Pressing her lips into a serious line as she put a finger to them.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you a secret,¡± she whispered. ¡°Only a few people know because he kills anyone who finds out. Before they can spread it.¡±


    ¡°A secret? Who¡¯s secret?¡±


    ¡°A god promised Thiago that no one can defeat him. Except one.¡± She held up a finger. ¡°Only one can. I don¡¯t know if its Asher,¡± she liked saying his name, ¡°but anyone else will die.¡±


    His face had twisted even more incredulously. At least he wasn¡¯t in pain anymore. Just confused.


    ¡°How do you-?¡±


    ¡°Has anyone seen Ben? Or Jay? The Marquis is looking for them.¡±


    Em¡¯s friend froze, cursed, then stood up.


    ¡°Get back inside,¡± he whispered to her. ¡°Don¡¯t get into any trouble.¡±


    She nodded and watched him walk away.


    ¡°Did I do the right thing?¡± she whispered to Loki.


    The creature shrugged. ¡°Right or wrong, the consequences will be interesting.¡±


    She wasn¡¯t sure if that was a good thing or not. But if Loki was entertained, then maybe she was that much closer to getting his cooperation.


    She scowled.


    Now, she just had to watch out for when he was pranking her at the same time. Stupid Loki.


    ***


    ¡°No.¡±


    Ben was taken by surprise. No, not just by surprise. Jay had been so adamantly for the plan before that his sudden refusal was like a blow to the gut.


    He wasn¡¯t just refusing, either.


    Jay stood in the kitchen doorway of the reeve manor. Prepared to make himself a stone wall that neither Ben nor the others could pass.


    ¡°What¡¯s gotten into you?!¡±


    This was their chance. Their only chance.


    The Crown Prince of their conquerors, the only heir to the throne, was asleep on the second floor under a light guard. There was no better time to get revenge and throw the Empire into chaos.


    ¡°I should have stopped this before we got here.¡± Jay spread his arms, blocking the opening further. ¡°I just made up my mind. We can¡¯t do this.¡±


    ¡°Have you lost it?!¡±


    One of the others tried to push Jay out of the way but Jay just spread his legs. Now using both hands and feet to anchor himself in the doorway.


    ¡°If we try this, all that¡¯s going to happen is we¡¯ll all die. Then who will take care of the others?¡±


    ¡°It''s worth it if that bastard dies, too.¡±


    ¡°Prince Asher might be alive.¡±


    Everyone froze.


    Of course they did. It was a completely and utterly unexpected turn in the conversation.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I- I think I met a seer earlier. She didn¡¯t know what we were planning, she just told me what she¡¯s been seeing. If it''s true, no one will survive tonight. And if we don''t survive, we can¡¯t confirm if she was telling the truth about Prince Asher.¡±


    A seer.


    Unlike priests, who could use divine power on behalf of the gods, seers were rare. They could see the past, present, or future. Sometimes for their whole lives. Sometimes for only a short time.


    They were rarer than dragon eggs.


    Even rarer now with Prince Thiago actively seeking them out.


    Ben glanced up at the dark building.


    Specifically, toward the window that should belong to Prince Thiago for the night.


    They¡¯d watched the man parade around. Looking over everything as though he owned every inch.


    Including the Lycan.


    The wretched man might¡¯ve taken one or two of their girls that night if the Marquis, either by design or unwittingly, hadn¡¯t distracted him. Ben and several others had made the girls disappear for the time being.


    He clenched his fists, feeling his talons lengthen and lightly pierce his palms. Not enough to draw blood but enough to cause discomfort.


    He wanted nothing more than to dig his talons into that man¡¯s throat.


    Even if it meant his own death.


    ¡°Are you sure this person was a seer?¡±


    ¡°No. I¡¯m not sure of anything.¡±


    Ben didn¡¯t have to look at his people to know what they were thinking. It could be a farce. A way to throw them off before they could even begin.


    It could also be true.


    He understood why Jay took so long to decide before blocking the doorway at the last second. He glanced again at the window. It seemed to loom closer. Tempting him. Begging him to make a move.


    Destroy the monster that lay beyond it.

 Ep. 35 - Unknown Category

    ¡°Did she give you enough information that we can confirm?¡±


    If there was a chance¡­ any chance¡­


    ¡°Yes. I don¡¯t know how easily, but she told me plenty to look into it. Names, circumstances, places-¡±


    ¡°Can you remember it all?¡±


    ¡°I wrote down what I could. And I know where to find her if I need to ask.¡±


    If there was a chance¡­


    Ben closed his eyes. He turned away from Jay, back toward the kitchen garden and the path toward the village.


    ¡°Pray to Felice we are not making a mistake.¡±


    No one argued. There were plenty of regretful and anxious glances backward, but no one argued.


    Because¡­


    If there was a chance¡­


    ***


    ¡°You will never make a good mage. Or sorcerer.¡±


    Em scowled and folded her arms. It had been almost a week since they¡¯d sent the royal couple away and life had settled back into routine.


    She wasn¡¯t liking where this part of the routine was going.


    ¡°But this is only the third lesson,¡± she whined. ¡°How can you be sure I can¡¯t do this?¡±


    Kimball matched her folded arms and kept his face professional.


    ¡°First, your chakra receptors are formed strangely. It allows the flow of mana, but has no particular affinity or form. If you were sorcerer material, that would be a good thing. As you are not-¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    He sighed, irritated with her interruption.


    ¡°You lack concentration and constitution.¡±


    She pressed her pout out further.


    ¡°I can learn to concentrate better. And I can improve my constitution, right? Like getting better at running by practice. All mages do that!¡±


    He sighed. Frustrated that he couldn¡¯t find the words to explain to this stubborn child.


    ¡°Fine, I will give you that for concentration. But for constitution, it¡¯s not like exercising your stamina. It¡¯s more like your height or hair color.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    He picked up the slate they¡¯d been using for her lessons and drew a circle.


    ¡°Let¡¯s say this is the shape your mana should create when you do a spell. If you were a sorcerer it would be this,¡± he created a figure eight, ¡°and a priest this,¡± he made a triangle.


    Em was starting to get it.


    ¡°So, my mana flow isn¡¯t making any of the right shapes?¡±


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    ¡°But it''s strong?¡±


    ¡°Fairly.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that mean I¡¯m something other than a mage, sorcerer, or priest?¡±


    ¡°There is always the possibility of an unknown type of magic user. But being an unknown category, that means I have nothing to teach you beyond infusion. And you have that down just fine.¡±


    Em groaned and sat back in an unladylike slouch.


    She pouted.


    She already knew she was unique. Healing without pain. A smile quirked grimly at the corner of her mouth. Making her look so much like Flint that Kimball momentarily raised both eyebrows in surprise.


    That probably means my ¡®unknown category¡¯ is healer, she mused.


    It also meant the only way she could get better was by practicing infusion. Regularly.


    What was depressing her was the realization that she¡¯d never be able to produce fire balls. She could think of a certain Lady Arnold who needed to have all her hair burned off.


    Especially if she ever touched Prince without his permission again.


    Asher.


    If she ever touched Asher again.


    ¡°I¡¯ll let brother Flint know,¡± she said. Shoulders hunched.


    ¡°That is unnecessary, my lady. I can report to the Commander just as well.¡±


    Em looked up with a tired smile.


    ¡°But I need to discuss with him my future training and education. Since magic is no longer viable.¡±


    Kimball raised his eyebrow again.


    Future training and education? What kind of eleven-year-old thought like that? At least, what kind of noble child thought like that? He could think of many peasants who might. But for them that was a matter of life and death.


    Em stood up and gave Kimball a polite bow. Which caused him to scramble up in flustered confusion.


    ¡°Thank you, Mister Rune, for trying to teach me. I know you¡¯re very busy.¡±


    ¡°I, yes, miss.¡±


    Em didn¡¯t go to Flint right away. Instead, she wandered the grounds. Kicking dirt clots and rocks whenever she came across them.


    Eventually she left the grounds and found herself in front of that huge tree. She glared at it with a determined scowl then pulled herself up.


    It took twenty minutes of effort.


    By then, she was panting and gasping, and her jaw hurt from gritting her teeth. But finally, finally, she pulled herself onto the nearest branch. For a second, she flopped down on its wide base and stared up at the leaves rustling above her.


    Then she laughed!


    She¡¯d climbed the tree!


    Ecstatic, she sat up and looked around. There were a few trees between her and the edge of the fields around the castle, but otherwise she had an alright view. She could see the wall and her escape route.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    If I can climb a tree, I can do something with my magic. I can practice.


    And I can help Asher when it''s time.


    She smiled and pulled her legs up, hugging them.


    ¡°What¡¯re you doing?¡±


    With a yelp, she almost fell out of the tree. A hand grabbed her wrist, and the boy grunted and strained to keep her from falling. Heart pounding, she got a grip on the big branch and settled herself back to safety.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do that!¡± she yelled. ¡°What if I fell?! I could¡¯ve broken my neck!¡±


    The boy turned his head to one side, studying her.


    ¡°But you just land on your feet if you fall.¡±


    ¡°Maybe for squirrel Lycan,¡± she retorted. ¡°But humans land wherever they land.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Really.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    The boy sat and scratched the back of his head. Very much like a squirrel, even though his tail was almost non-existent and there were neither squirrel ears nor teeth.


    ¡°What are you doing up here, then? If you can get hurt?¡±


    Em moved her legs a little, more cautiously than before. And held onto the bark with her fingers, even though her seat was secure again.


    A scare will do that to a person.


    ¡°Why do you climb trees?¡±


    He scoffed. ¡°Because it''s fun.¡±


    ¡°Well, I do because it''s fun, too.¡±


    The boy nodded like it was the most logical explanation in the world.


    Now that she was calming down, Em looked the boy over. He was here. Voluntarily within arm¡¯s reach of her. Though she could tell he was ready to run away if she made the slightest startling move.


    Slowly, she held out a hand.


    ¡°I¡¯m Em,¡± she introduced.


    He stared blankly first at her face then at her hand.


    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to shake it.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°It''s a greeting.¡±


    ¡°We just bow heads. Or sniff if we¡¯re in our other forms.¡±


    ¡°We can do both.¡±


    Still puzzled, he bowed his head (Em returned the bow), then he grabbed her hand. Instead of shaking up and down, he wrapped his long fingers around her whole hand and wiggled it.


    Em laughed.


    ¡°Not like that!¡±


    It took a few moments, but he finally got it.


    ¡°I¡¯m Todd,¡± he introduced solemnly.


    Em grinned. ¡°I know.¡±


    He grimaced and looked to the side. ¡°Grandma said I should tell you thank you,¡± he muttered.


    Such an unwilling message!


    Em grinned and waited.


    ¡°I was supposed to as soon as that stupid person left.¡±


    Em shrugged. She didn¡¯t know which ¡®stupid person¡¯ Todd meant, but she didn¡¯t press. It didn¡¯t matter.


    ¡°Better late than never.¡±


    She kicked her legs harder and watched as Todd inched backward. Apparently ready to bolt now that he¡¯d delivered his message. The silence grew awkward when neither of them could think of anything to say.


    ¡°Well, then, goodbye.¡±


    Em giggled as the child rushed down the tree.


    This was a good start, right? She kicked her legs more, lifting her face to a ray of sun that burst through onto her seat.


    She was in a good mood when she finally knocked on Flint¡¯s door.


    There was one good thing about her brother. (Among everything else she admired.) He always made time for her when she came. It caused her some anxiety and was extra careful, making sure she only came when she really needed to.


    It also made her feel strange.


    Like having a male Maddie around. Except Flint was politer and didn¡¯t smoke.


    The thought made Em swallow a laugh as she took a seat and Ralph left. The door made an awful creak when Ralph struggled for a moment to close it all the way. Then silence.


    ¡°Has Mister Kimball already talked to you?¡±


    ¡°He sent a report.¡± Flint folded his fingers together and leaned on his desk. ¡°That makes things difficult.¡±


    ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t,¡± Em said promptly.


    Flint raised an eyebrow, and Em beamed.


    ¡°It just means all I can do is healing. But I can get pretty damn good at that.¡±


    Flint¡¯s eyebrow, which had just settled back in place, twitched in a scowl.


    ¡°Damn? Emmaline, watch your language.¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡± Not at all repentant, she wriggled forward, eyes bright. ¡°It also means all I need to master is infusion, right? The more I do it, the stronger my mana flow, right? So, I just need plenty of opportunities to do healing!¡±


    She beamed.


    Flint¡¯s frown deepened.


    ¡°Do you expect to find cats with torn paws every day?¡±


    Em scoffed.


    ¡°I practically live at a military base. There are probably half a dozen men in the infirmary right now.¡±


    ¡°That will risk exposing you.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ yes and no.¡± She held up a finger, to keep him from commenting. ¡°If I work with the apothecary and the surgeon, you know, to learn basic medical stuff, then no one will suspect that I¡¯m also practicing infusing.¡±


    ¡°Except they¡¯ll be healed.¡±


    ¡°Not if I don¡¯t push it until they¡¯re fully healed. Just a little here and there. And sometimes the patient will be unconscious, so they may not know how bad the wound was before. What do you think?¡±


    Flint was silent for a moment. Tapping his fingers against the back of his folded hands as he thought.


    ¡°If you help the surgeon, you¡¯ll get even more opportunities¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll have to bring him in on the secret.¡±


    Em nodded.


    Flint still didn¡¯t look entirely happy with the plan, so Em stood up and reached over the desk to touch his wrist.


    ¡°Practicing at all is a risk of exposure.¡±


    He stared into her dead serious eyes. It was times like this he wondered where the child had gone and who¡¯d replaced her with an adult. Slowly, he moved to grasp her hand.


    She was going to make a fine adult.


    ¡°I will arrange it.¡±


    Em¡¯s face broke into a smile and she raced around the desk to throw her arms around him.


    ¡°Thank you!¡±


    ¡°Your sword fighting lessons start Monday.¡±


    ¡°Ok.¡±


    Awkwardly, he wrapped an arm around her. A small smile curled on his lips.


    ¡°You let me know if it''s too much.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    Em left the office with a bounce in her step. Totally forgetting how nervous she¡¯d been when he¡¯d first proposed she practice magic.


    It just didn¡¯t matter anymore.


    ***


    Loki didn¡¯t act like it, but he was bored.


    bored with existing.


    bored with the never ending predictable-ness of the world they watched over.


    Other gods were passionate about what they loved (or hated). They could, and did, go on and on and on. Never losing their interest and their forward thrust into their own projects, schemes, and observations.


    But not Loki.


    The gods got their forms solidified and their insides shaped by their essences, their passions. They long ago became firm, immoveable creatures. Predictable, almost unchangeable at all, by the solidness of their characters.


    But not Loki.


    His shape changed like waves and his pranks gave him temporary relief from the boredom¡­


    His existence was a never ending drudge.


    His lack of desires, permanent connections, and passions made him the one god immune to bribery or negotiation. No pleas could sway him.


    Unfortunately.


    Back when Felice came to Loki for help, she had had little hope. She didn¡¯t even know what to offer him other than a chance to play around.


    But there was no one else she could ask.


    No one.


    Everyone else had too much skin in the game, too many connections and promises. Aside from her annoying eldest brother who always, always refused to step in when asked. And had a tendency to make decisions that were right, but blindsided everyone involved.


    Well, this wasn¡¯t about Helios.


    So she had marched up to Loki¡¯s home on the mountain of the gods. Clouds swirling around her legs like disturbing a still lake.


    It didn¡¯t occur to her until the entire mess was over that what Loki was doing when she got there should have clued her in.


    Someone had gotten to him first.


    He was playing a VR video game.

 Ep. 36 - The Cord

    In researching the world she¡¯d snagged Em¡¯s soul from, she¡¯d briefly come in contact with the idea. So she knew what it was. She was just surprised that Loki had gone to the trouble to get his hands on it.


    ¡°What can I do for you, little sister?¡±


    Loki¡¯s drawl was particularly annoying that day and she fought not to scowl.


    She loved him, but she wanted to strangle him sometimes. The goddess of peace knew better than anyone that sometimes it took a bit of upheaval to create a peaceful outcome (though that was not her first choice as it usually wasn¡¯t the best choice).


    ¡°I need your help.¡±


    She explained the situation. How Umbra had made a promise to the Prince of Cyrin, how the other god had danced around her promise to the bloodline of Wyn, and the problem she was having with the connection of a single soul.


    With all her connections, promises, and responsibilities, she simply could not sustain that connection for much longer on her own.


    He hadn¡¯t taken off the VR helmet the entire time she talked.


    ¡°Did you hear me?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Will you help me?¡±


    She waited, but he didn¡¯t answer her right away. Swinging his arm to hit a virtual tennis ball and score a point.


    ¡°Loki!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m thinking.¡±


    She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. Aware that the child¡¯s tie between bodies was dimming even as she was talking to him. It wasn¡¯t in danger yet, but it made her nervous.


    Finally, he finished the match (victor, of course), and slid the helmet off his head.


    ¡°What do I get out of it?¡±


    She scowled. ¡°What do you want out of it?¡±


    It was just easier to ask than to offer. For Loki. Any other god (besides Helios) she could¡¯ve come up with some sort of offer.


    It made her feel helpless.


    He tilted his head to the side and studied her. That day he was wearing his most charming face, and he had used it to smile at her.


    ¡°A favor. Where and when I ask for it.¡±


    That was some time ago.


    The tie had been strong since then, no longer relying on her to maintain it. In fact, its strength had reassured her to the point she¡¯d momentarily forgotten to check in.


    After all, she couldn¡¯t actually make choices for Em or anyone else. All she could do was smooth a few stones out of their path.


    Whether their interference helped her keep her promise to the Wyn bloodline, or if they made choices that resulted in failure, she had kept her word as far as she could. There would be no divine retribution so long as she¡¯d done her best with what resources she had.


    It made her sad.


    She understood her divinity wasn¡¯t a guarantee of success.


    How aggravating.


    Because she¡¯d taken a step back, what she found when she checked in startled her. Swooping down to earth, she found Loki had not only maintained the tie, but had also chosen a solid form and was actively interacting with the child.


    Em was in the middle of a lesson on cleaning wounds when Felice appeared in the infirmary.


    Neither the child nor the physician was aware of her presence. But the little slime shifted to ¡®look¡¯ at her. Loki probably saw her just fine, even though his current form had no eyes.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    ¡°Are you annoyed with me, little sister?¡±


    She rubbed her fingers across her forehead then jabbed one into his jelly.


    ¡°I said to keep the connection strong. I don¡¯t want you anywhere near her.¡±


    He giggled and Em glanced at him. Deciding his interruption wasn¡¯t important, she went back to cleaning blood off another man¡¯s arm.


    ¡°But it¡¯s fun here!¡±


    ¡°If you mess this up-¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you trust me?¡±


    She let out a long, looong sigh.


    Humans thought of ¡®peace¡¯ as being some sort of simple emotion. A lack of turbulence in the soul.


    That was both true and far from the truth.


    Often, that sense of being centered, could only happen after a storm. Peace could not exist without storms. Not that she caused the storms, it was just her essence to find quiet and balance when they occur.


    Though annoyed, her mind was busily looking for ways to resolve the emotion. And find balance with Loki.


    And not trusting him when he¡¯d agreed to her favor was a sure way to kick up more dust.


    However, living with the disquiet was also not an option. There was no peace in that.


    ¡°I¡¯m not one to hold a grudge, but you¡¯ve yet to prove yourself trustworthy.¡± She folded her arms. ¡°Why are you here?¡±


    He giggled again and wrapped himself around Em¡¯s neck. That giggle grated Felice¡¯s skin.


    Em, who was used to him adjusting like this, simply pulled his wobbly tentacles free from her neck. Then transferred them to the strap across her chest. She was intently watching the physician as he talked her through stitching up a wound while he did the job.


    ¡°Nothing that will interfere with your goal. I¡¯m just amusing myself.¡±


    She sighed and rubbed her forehead. It was beginning to ache. It shouldn¡¯t be possible. She was a god.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Her priestess would be appalled at having her expectations dashed.


    ¡°Was the connection to the boy on purpose?¡±


    ¡°I told you before it wasn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Did you find out what¡¯s causing it?¡±


    Felice wrapped her arms around herself, bouncing on her toes. She didn¡¯t know that Loki was watching her sharply, drinking in every movement.


    ¡°I have some theories. But every time I track them, they fizzle out. It makes little sense.¡±


    ¡°Is it a problem?¡±


    She bit her lip, bouncing harder. It was a side of her she could never show a priestess. They would be unable to reconcile this child-like posture with their great god.


    ¡°Not¡­ really. No. In fact, I think its helping.¡±


    ¡°Then stop worrying about it.¡±


    ¡°Loki,¡± Em hissed. ¡°Stop moving or I¡¯m going to put you in that bucket over there.¡±


    He made a mewling sound, startling the physician.


    ¡°It¡¯s almost as if it understands you.¡± The physician chuckled. Then patted the patient¡¯s arm. ¡°You can go now, sir. Keep it clean and you are forbidden to pick up a sword until it heals.¡±


    Felice watched the humans. Smiling.


    It was peaceful here. The men and the child were getting along, the weather was closing in on autumn and was nearly perfect.


    Even Loki wasn¡¯t bothering her right now.


    She was unaware of the way his eye-less gaze lingered on her. The way he looked at the light radiating at the center of her being.


    Aware of the deadness at his own center and bitterly wondering why.


    He didn¡¯t have time to wonder because Em suddenly collapsed. Taking him with her.


    ¡°My lady! You, go get the Marquis. Now!¡±


    ***


    She couldn¡¯t breathe.


    The world was full of confusing sounds and colors. Movement. But she couldn¡¯t breathe. She couldn¡¯t see properly.


    Vaguely she heard the monitors. Were they always that loud?


    And the pain.


    How could she not feel it in the dream world?


    It tore at her, twisted her, gnawed at her. So intense it should have made her pass out. Instead, it kept her hovering just below consciousness.


    Someone cursed, but she wasn¡¯t sure if it came from the arena (where Asher stood in his yellow and pink uniform) or from the doctor bending over her. She was aware of both places but could only concentrate on one at a time.


    In a desperate attempt to get away from the pain, she focused on the arena.


    It didn¡¯t help.


    With a whimper, she fell to her knees on the arena floor.


    She couldn¡¯t breathe.


    In that moment, Asher was at peace. Centering himself for the fight.


    But instead of turning to his opponent as the fight was announced, he turned to where he thought the radiating presence was.


    ¡°Angel?¡±


    Asher didn¡¯t have time to investigate the fleeting sensation that crossed his soul before the match started. He barely had time to raise his arm and block the first attack, his opponent determined not to give him an inch.


    A shock of agony ripped through Em, and her vision doubled. Suddenly, she could see both her room in the ICU and the arena at the same time. The images overlapped each other like a double exposure.


    Another shock ripped through her body.


    They were trying to restart her heart.


    But she was conscious!


    It hurt.


    She wept, holding her chest and rocking.


    Asher tumbled over Em. For a second, there was a jolt of recognition between them. Then he lurched to the side as a weapon sang through the air. It hit the ground with a resounding clang, sparks erupting from the stone beneath Em.


    She didn''t feel it. Thank the gods!


    I¡¯m dying.


    This time, I¡¯m really dying.


    Suddenly she was gripped with an insane, desperate desire.


    She never saw Maddie. This world wasn¡¯t real. This dream wasn¡¯t real. And she couldn¡¯t fight her own sick and damaged body any more.


    But¡­ she couldn¡¯t die so meaninglessly and without a fight.


    Any fight.


    Her legs collapsed under her again and again as she stumbled toward Asher, who was now half a dozen yards from her.


    He was fast and strong. Stronger and faster than a fifteen-year-old should¡¯ve been. Especially one who¡¯d spent the last three years in slavery and under abuse. She was vaguely aware of magic pumping through him, filling his veins and keeping him upright.


    He was better trained, better prepared, better¡­ she had no reason to be worried for him. She should just focus on her own pain¡­


    But his opponent was desperate.


    He hacked at Asher with no mercy in his eyes. Even when Asher got him first and blood streamed from a half dozen wounds (one of which would be fatal if left untreated), he still roared and hacked.


    Em stumbled to her knees under a wave of agony. Which momentarily blackened out the second image of the ICU.


    At the same time, Asher was struck squarely on the arm.


    His sparse armor deflected some of the blow, but not all of it. It crumpled under the weight of the other man¡¯s weapon, pushing inward.


    Rendering Asher¡¯s sword arm useless.


    The pain disoriented him, and he didn¡¯t avoid the next blow. It hit his shield with a crunch and flung him backward.


    ¡°Ash-¡±


    She couldn¡¯t finish. Despite her efforts, his fight and her own condition had kept him out of reach. She wouldn¡¯t make it before the next blow severed his head from his neck.


    At Em¡¯s dying body, in the background of frantic doctors and nurses, the heart monitor had buzzed for too long on flatline.


    The second image of the ICU completely vanished from her sight.


    In that moment, the pain suddenly¡­ stopped.


    She saw the cord Loki had showed her before. Bright and golden. And vanishing at an alarming rate as it sped toward her. A smaller cord, one connecting her to Asher, appeared. Looking like a tiny wire compared to the umbilical cord.


    She grabbed the wire and pushed everything she had into.


    It lit up.


    So bright she dazedly wondered how the audience didn¡¯t see it.


    Someone saw it.


    Asher¡¯s wounds closed up instantly under the rush of Em¡¯s push. He rolled out of the way of the next swing and tripped his opponent. As the man stumbled back to regain his balance, Asher frantically looked for the light.


    The line of light only burned for three seconds. Just three. He almost missed it.


    Beyond the light, beyond his opponent who was raising his arms menacingly, he saw a crouched, dark shadow.


    The shape was too vague to tell him what he was seeing.


    Abruptly, the line of light and the shadow both exploded in a confetti of darkness. And he nearly lost his head again as he desperately returned to the fight.


    Later¡­ later¡­ he¡¯d have time to think about what he saw¡­


    Later.


    When he would have time to cry.


    Because he was sure someone had died for him¡­ again.


    ***


    No one knew why Em didn¡¯t wake up.


    She didn¡¯t have a fever. There was no sign of illness at all. And unlike last time, this episode hadn¡¯t started with strain or emotional distress.


    That anyone noticed, anyway.


    For three days, she moaned and tossed on her bed. Racked in nightmares. Tracy sat on the other side of the bed, holding her hand. Talking to her. Singing.


    Along with the physician, every day Kimball Rune checked on her, too.


    He had to remind Flint over and over that no matter how many times he examined her, if there was no magic involved, he would not detect it.


    And no matter how much mana Kimball or other mages poured into her, nothing changed.


    She neither worsened nor got better.


    When she hadn¡¯t woken up after the first night, Flint pushed most of his work onto Ralph and sat by her bedside. He sat military still, more like a statue as he stared at the opposite wall with his arms crossed.


    Listening to distressed noises he couldn¡¯t save her from.

 Ep. 37 - Who Is It?

    It went on endlessly.


    For three days, Em had no peace at all. She didn¡¯t wake, but she didn¡¯t stop moving either. Not once. Turn, toss, twitch, flinch. Turn, toss, twitch, flinch.


    Then, at three in the morning of the fourth night, it abruptly stopped.


    Tracy had fallen asleep, too exhausted to keep her vigil. But Flint was there. Awake with his eyes closed and his head bent back against the wall. The sudden silence was more frightening than the moans.


    Hands shaking, he forced himself to check.


    He had to check.


    It was something he¡¯d done countless times on the battlefield. When he had to decide. When he had to accurately judge whether someone had survived their wounds.


    It haunted him he might have missed a small breath. That he might have left people to die alone on those bloody fields.


    And now he had to press his fingers to the pulse on his little sister¡¯s neck.


    Dreading that there would be no beat.


    Flint couldn¡¯t remember the last time he cried. Even at his mother¡¯s funeral, his eyes had been dry and his face frozen into emotionlessness.


    But when he felt the faint ¡®thump¡­ thump¡­ thump¡¯ rhythm under his fingers, he leaned over the little chest.


    And wept.


    ***


    Thiago¡¯s shoes clacked on the bare, wooden stairs as he climbed up. And up. And up.


    Normally, if he wanted to imprison someone, he¡¯d send them to the dungeon. It was cold, and dank, and the air smelled faintly of mildew and something else rotten.


    He liked the smell.


    It reminded him of the boy he¡¯d tossed down there ten years ago. And left to starve to death while the whole palace was in an uproar looking for him. They¡¯d even sent a platoon of knights into the mountains on the false information that the boy had left with a friend.


    The friend Thiago had killed.


    Neither of the two boys were found. But sometimes Thiago would go to that part of the dungeon and laugh over the remains still tucked away in an unused cell.


    He could never remember that boy without thinking also of Madeline.


    She was already his by then. An arrangement made by their parents. But he¡¯d refrained from showing her his more¡­ interesting side.


    Until the night he found her trying to save the boy in the dungeon.


    The boy, his older brother, was already dead. By only a day but still dead. And his death didn¡¯t change that she had tried to defy Thiago. He¡¯d punished her, right in the corridor where her screams could echo.


    Stupid wench ran away the very next day. And it took him years to recover her.


    Still, he had no need to worry.


    Madeline Dulce knew his secret. Which made her terrified of him. Oh, she put up a good act (which he liked very much), but she was truly incapable of defying him anymore.


    He knew because she never told anyone about the murdered prince in the dungeon.


    Not that anyone would believe her.


    Not anyone who¡¯d never seen what he was capable of.


    Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.


    Especially not the only one with the power to do anything about it. The dying old man in the Emperor¡¯s Palace. No, that one would never believe his last remaining beloved son would do something so despicable.


    Thiago smiled.


    He reached the landing and waved at the man accompanying him. Hastily, the guard took out a key ring and opened the door. Bowing Thiago inside and closed the door behind him.


    For a prison, the room was furnished comfortably.


    Lazily, he looked around.


    He saw the old woman, hunched by the window. But he didn¡¯t go to her directly. Instead, he pulled a book off the shelf and flipped through it.


    Harmless.


    ¡°Is this how you chose to entertain yourself? Reading about flowers?¡±


    She didn¡¯t look at him. Instead, keeping her blank gaze staring fixedly out the window. Thiago put the book down, scowling.


    ¡°Answer me!¡±


    ¡°What do you want?¡±


    He strode swiftly across the room and raised a hand. The old woman barely turned her eyes toward him. Not flinching.


    Gritting his teeth, he dropped his fist. Letting it dangle by his thigh as he reigned in his temper.


    Foolish old crone.


    ¡°One day, I¡¯m going to lose patience with you.¡±


    The old woman smiled. Despite her age, she had a full mouth of teeth. It looked odd to Thiago amidst her layers of wrinkles.


    ¡°When you do, I¡¯ll return to my goddess, Felice.¡± She held up a hand and pointed a rude gesture at him. ¡°And laugh when you destroy yourself.¡±


    He barely caught his own hand before smacking her.


    Wretched old witch!


    ¡°Tell me your visions.¡±


    ¡°Why should I?¡±


    He leaned down and hissed, ¡°Because, I may have lost one of your grandchildren, but I¡¯m still holding one in my palm. Have you forgotten? Just because you¡¯ve been in this room for eight years?¡±


    It was ten years ago when she¡¯d given him Umbra¡¯s promise. Not of her own free will, the god had taken control of her to do it. Then she immediately disappeared to god knows where.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    It had taken him almost two years to track her down.


    During the search, he¡¯d found her weakness. Too bad for her, the sister was willing to work for Umbra¡¯s chosen.


    It was scary how similar the two women looked.


    Sometimes he wondered if his supporter had somehow been transported into the tower. Which was nonsense, considering how much their attitudes differed.


    While he was thinking, she was clenching and unclenching her fists.


    Glaring at him with hatred.


    ¡°Now, tell me. Have I eliminated the threat?¡±


    She took a deep breath and finally closed her eyes. She leaned back in her seat and grew still, lifting her chin as she rested her head on the back of her chair. Graying hair tumbling over her shoulders and into her lap.


    While she did that, he turned the stone on his ring.


    The area it covered was small. But anyone within range would be unable to tell a lie without all of them within the space knowing.


    It was almost useless to him since it worked only a few minutes at a time and shared his lies as well. But it was his only safeguard in this situation.


    The old woman shuddered.


    ¡°Is my grandson safe?¡±


    She didn¡¯t open her eyes.


    ¡°He is.¡±


    She sighed and opened her eyes. Her face sagged tiredly. Holding up a hand, her eyes unfocused until the pupils turned milky and made Thiago¡¯s skin crawl.


    ¡°Thiago Cyrin, chosen of Umbra. For the duration of your life, no one can cause you harm. You will gain the throne and none will take it.¡±


    It was the prophecy. Said over and over again through the years.


    Then the part that made him growl.


    ¡°These promises are yours if you beware, chosen of Umbra. Kill the prince who comes with fire and cured of scars. If you ever face him in the midst  of winter¡¯s teeth, it is your blood that will spill and your screams that will pierce the sky.¡±


    Thiago cursed.


    In a fit of temper, he grabbed her empty dinner plate and threw it across the room. The plate shattered.


    Ten years! Ten fricken years! He¡¯d killed his brothers, hunted the sons of Dukes, gone to war, and wiped out entire royal families. And the bastard was still alive somewhere?!


    ¡°Who is it?!¡± he bellowed. ¡°Who?! Old woman-¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no use asking me.¡± She opened her eyes and smiled contemptuously. ¡°I tell you what I see when you ask.¡±


    The ring shorted out and Thiago yanked it off his finger. He barely stopped himself from throwing it. Damn it!


    ¡°Fine.¡± He turned and stalked to the door.


    It slammed behind him and the guard re-locked it.


    For a moment, the old woman stared at the door. Then she smiled secretively and leaned back so she could stare peacefully out the window.


    ***


    Em pinched herself.


    It was hard enough to leave a small welt. Just like the other dozens of small marks, it ended red and angry like a bug bite.


    And it still hurt.


    Tracy wouldn¡¯t let her get up, even though both the doctor and Kimball said she was fine. Loki also said she was fine (while dripping off her nightstand and hanging like something nasty). But they couldn¡¯t hear him.


    She pinched herself again. Digging her nails in until she almost broke the surface. Pain shot up her elbow.


    ¡°I died.¡±


    She didn¡¯t know how she knew it. Everything could still be explained as some weird dream. After all, she could be dreaming she was pinching herself. It could be corresponding to pains in her body and her mind was just interpreting it.


    But she knew.


    She knew she¡¯d died. That body, back there, in the real world. It was gone.


    Well, it had no life anyway. And there was no reason to think about what was happening to it now. Her ashes were probably being disposed of. Maybe they¡¯d even been sent to her mom. If the woman was still alive.


    And Maddie?


    What about Maddie?


    ¡°Loki?¡±


    Em didn¡¯t look away from the window. Dull gray curtains hung like limp dish rags against the opening. Since the glass had been destroyed some time ago and they couldn¡¯t replace them yet, come winter that window would be covered in skins or wood to keep out the cold.


    ¡°Yup?¡±


    Lazily, the slime crawled part of its body out from under her pillow, grabbing her attention.


    For a second, she stared blankly at him. Then shuddered.


    ¡°What were you doing under my pillow?!¡±


    ¡°Taking a nap.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s disgusting!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sweating goop. How¡¯s it disgusting?¡±


    Clearly, he was enjoying this. She shuddered again and made a face. Then she grabbed him and put him on the nightstand. Fast enough to make him dizzy.


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    ¡°Is it true? Is Maddie dead, too?¡±


    The slime looked like a little man as it stretched. And Loki was loud making his stretching noises.


    ¡°I think we¡¯ve established this before.¡±


    ¡°Then say it again.¡±


    The slime gooped forward, closer to her by an inch. Then he put a smooth tentacle on her hand.


    ¡°Your Maddie died instantly.¡±


    Something broke inside her. The numbness that had taken over her mind from the moment she¡¯d woken up vanished and her face crumpled.


    ¡°Hic, hic, hic.¡±


    She pulled her legs to her chest and buried her face in her knees. Trying not to wail, but unable to contain her sobs.


    Maddie was gone.


    Em was gone, too, but¡­ she¡¯d thought¡­ when she died, she thought she¡¯d be leaving Maddie to pick up the pieces. Move on. Find a good man and have a baby. Indulge in whatever other dreams and fun that Maddie had given up for her little sister.


    Who would have ever predicted Maddie would go first?


    Her whole body convulsed with her sobs.


    Something shifted on the bed and she felt something heavy sit on it.


    Loki, in his human form with a human face, put a hand on her shoulder. Invisible to the human eye, he also put up a shield. It kept the sounds of Em¡¯s growing wails in. Leaving her undisturbed to mourn.


    ¡°I failed her!¡±


    ¡°By sitting in the passenger seat?¡±


    ¡°If-if I hadn¡¯t been so stubborn. And-and died sooner, we-we wouldn¡¯t have been going to the hos-hospital-¡±


    Loki snorted.


    Humans. They were so illogical when they were emotional. He shook his head and decided it wasn¡¯t worth arguing.


    ¡°It is-isn¡¯t fair!¡±


    Fair?


    Humans were strange in that concept. For him, for all the gods, fair meant the laws were being followed. It wasn¡¯t about how much or how little someone got. When a law was broken, it had to be made right to put it back into balance.


    Though he could think of some gods who loved breaking the law.


    Part of him understood.


    He paid the price for his pranks all the time. The other part did not understand, since what they did had a heavier price tag if they ever had to pay for it. They were just really, really good at getting others to do the deeds instead of themselves. Thus avoiding punishment.


    He didn¡¯t argue with her about fairness, though. Humans didn¡¯t understand.


    ¡°Fair or not, it is done.¡±


    That only made her cry harder so he decided it wasn¡¯t worth trying to be logical with her. So, he simply sat there. Hand on her shoulder. And amusing himself by projecting his consciousness and creating whatever accident was necessary to keep that Tracy woman away.


    There was no end to what could go wrong.


    She dropped a pile of laundry, her foot fell through a step on the servants¡¯ stairs, and he even pinched one woman¡¯s arm at just the right moment (starting a fight between Tracy and her).


    By the end of the day, Tracy was going to think she was cursed. But she stayed away long enough for Em to calm down.


    Eyes swollen and body exhausted, Em allowed Loki to tuck her in again. Curling up under the blanket and sticking her arm under the pillow.


    ¡°You¡¯re r-right.¡±


    ¡°Of course I am.¡± He smiled proudly as he crouched down. His face was now level with hers. ¡°But what am I right about?¡±


    She smiled and rubbed her eyes.


    ¡°You¡¯re handsome that way.¡±

 Ep. 38 - Useless Book

    The god snorted. ¡°I don¡¯t remember saying that.¡±


    ¡°In the hospital, I think¡­¡±


    ¡°As I recall, I was simply protesting you calling me a dough ball. I didn¡¯t actually disagree with being ugly.¡±


    ¡°Then it was someone else who said it.¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°My admirers do know how to flatter, don¡¯t they?¡±


    Her smile faded and she rubbed her eye. It hurt from crying so much. Felt like someone had poured sand on her eyelid.


    ¡°What do I do now?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Her lip trembled. ¡°I¡¯ve lost Maddie. And this world is real. It is, right? I¡¯m not hallucinating or anything?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re dead, how can you hallucinate?¡±


    ¡°Loki!¡±


    He chuckled, dropped his head, then lifted it.


    ¡°You¡¯re alive here, little human. What do you want to do?¡±


    Em bit her lip and curled her knees closer to her chest in the fetal position.


    What did she want to do?


    So far, she¡¯d only been thinking about herself. She¡¯d wanted a good life, so she let Felix die. And she¡¯d worked with Flint because she wanted a better future than the original Emmaline.


    Speaking of which.


    ¡°What happened to her?¡± Em pointed at herself. ¡°The person whose body this is? Did I¡­ did I kill her?¡±


    It was unbearable to ask. But she couldn¡¯t not ask either.


    ¡°Ah. That is a good question.¡± Loki sat on the ground, his head now even with the side of the bed and lower than hers. ¡°I can¡¯t explain correctly because humans simply can¡¯t understand the mechanics. But, basically what happened is we connected your future self to your past self and rewound time.¡±


    Em blinked blankly at him.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You were the old Emmaline. You were both Emmalines.¡± He scratched his head, giving her a cheeky smile. ¡°You killed no one and only retook what was once yours. It actually wasn¡¯t that difficult to do.¡±


    ¡°Did you do it?¡±


    ¡°No, no. I just understand how it was done.¡±


    ¡°Why? Why was it done?¡± Em squeezed her legs. ¡°Why did I have to have such a miserable life both times? Why-¡±


    Loki put a hand over her mouth. Eyes softening.


    ¡°Gods don¡¯t make choices for sentient beings,¡± he told her. Firmly. ¡°It¡¯s a law we can never break. We can take over a body and use it as a puppet, but the soul¡¯s ability to choose remains intact even if the body won¡¯t obey. Choices were made in both your lifetimes that resulted in your miserable positions.¡±


    ¡°Someone made choices that made me sick?¡± asked Em dubiously.


    ¡°Your mother made choices that ended with your weak body.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Loki watched her for a moment. Head tilted. Then he smiled.


    On that face, it was radiant. Why didn¡¯t he use it more often?


    ¡°And you, little human, made choices resulting in an extended life there, a good relationship with your sister, and happier people here.¡±


    Em frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    Loki shrugged.


    ¡°You asked what you should do now. I¡¯m only pointing out it¡¯s your choice and your choice alone how you¡¯ll move forward. What do you want to do?¡±


    ¡°I-¡±


    Em squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips together.


    ¡°I¡¯ve caused Flint so much trouble. It was sort of ok when he wasn¡¯t real. But now¡­ I don¡¯t want to be any more trouble to him.¡±


    Her eyes suddenly popped open and she gaped at Loki.


    ¡°I have a brother!¡±


    ¡°I thought that was established.¡±


    Em sat up. Gaping at the door like something surprising had walked through.


    ¡°No, I mean, he¡¯s my brother. My real brother!¡±


    Loki chuckled. Humans were so silly!


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    She tapped her fist on her leg. Thinking. And scowling. Abruptly, she switched from wonder back to her original concerns.


    ¡°The problem is¡­ that stupid book was useless!¡±


    Loki officially lost track of what she was thinking.


    ¡°Um¡­ I don¡¯t-¡±


    ¡°In stories where the heroine goes to a story world, usually she has enough information about events and stuff she¡¯s able to change things. Or get rich. Or something.¡± Em waved a hand around. ¡°But I can¡¯t think of anything that I could use!¡±


    Loki smiled slyly. ¡°Or maybe you¡¯re just not smart enough to?¡±


    Em threw her pillow at him, which smacked him in the face.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that there isn¡¯t anything, it''s just I can¡¯t use it.¡±


    ¡°Explain.¡±


    ¡°Well, I know there¡¯s a mine in Duke Caviet¡¯s territory somewhere. But I don¡¯t have money to invest. And I¡¯m not sure when it was discovered. If it¡¯s already discovered, then there¡¯s no point in raising money to mine it¡­ even if I knew how to do that and if Caviet would let me.¡±


    ¡°Keep thinking. What else?¡±


    Em made a face and pulled her knees up.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know! Most of the book was seriously just one conquest after another. That jerk Thiago was obsessed with finding the lost prince and he didn¡¯t stop until his seer said, ¡®he is dead¡¯. By then, he was the tyrant of the century and half the continent was trembling in terror.¡±


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Em pouted.


    ¡°We only kept reading cuz we wanted to know what happened to Emmaline and Madeline.¡±


    Loki listened patiently, still sitting on the floor.


    ¡°Keep thinking, little human.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Em smacked her forehead, eyes wide. ¡°Is Prince, I mean, Asher real, too?!¡±


    Loki smiled slyly. ¡°He is.¡±


    Slowly, Em lowered her hand from her forehead to her mouth. Covering it as she thought.


    ¡°I¡­ think I have an idea. Maybe. Since Prince is real¡­¡±


    Her head snapped up. ¡°Loki, he¡¯s still alive, right?¡±


    The god hesitated. Then shrugged. ¡°Yes. But I can¡¯t tell you any more than that-¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good enough for me!¡±


    Em punched the air and swung her legs off the bed. With an exaggerated yelp, Loki backed away on his backside and held up one hand defensively.


    ¡°Are you trying to kick me in the face?¡± he whined.


    ¡°I need to see Mister Jay.¡±


    ¡°Who lives two days away.¡±


    She froze. Then her shoulders slumped as she pouted.


    ¡°Oh, yeah. Maybe I could send him a message-? No, that won¡¯t work. What if someone reads it? I really just need to see him¡­¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll think of something.¡±


    She abruptly stood up and threw her arms around Loki. He squawked in surprise. Twice. The second time when she planted a kiss on his cheek.


    ¡°Thank you, mister Loki. You¡¯re a good friend. Even if you are a nuisance.¡±


    Then she skipped from the room. Leaving Loki to stare after her with his mouth hanging open.


    Gingerly, he touched his cheek.


    Has anyone- child or not- ever kissed him like that?


    Ah. There was that one time.


    Just one.


    When Felice was still finding her way like he was now and her form was undecided. They¡¯d both taken the forms of farmer children and joined a festival. Dancing, playing, pranking. He tied a few shoelaces so he could nick a pie in the mayhem of three people falling over at once and disturbing the display.


    They snuck off together to eat the pie in the bushes.


    Felice kissed his cheek then. In gratitude for a good day.


    He touched his cheek again.


    Smiling at the memory.


    ***


    They were all infuriatingly overprotective!


    Flint hadn¡¯t even listened to her the other day when she¡¯d showed up at his office in her nightshirt. He¡¯d promptly put his pen down, scooped her up, and took her back to bed.


    Still, Em was finally seeing a priest.


    Oh the irony. Now that she no longer needed to see a priest since Loki was behaving himself.


    Mostly.


    If you didn¡¯t count the rush of mice coming out of the sewer and causing havoc this morning. All so he could make himself cookies.


    ¡°How else am I going to get them out of the kitchen?¡± he¡¯d whined when she confronted him on it.


    ¡°What are you talking about?! You can just snap your fingers and poof! Cookies!¡±


    At which point, he offered her three of the nearly plate sized cookies as a bribe. She¡¯d taken them with great dignity.


    With a laugh to herself, she let the priest grasp her wrist as he closed his eyes.


    She wondered what shape his divine mana was taking as it snaked inside of her and probed around. His forehead wrinkled.


    Finally, he dropped her wrist and turned to Flint. Who was hovering by the door behind him.


    ¡°The young lady is not in any danger.¡±


    Flint¡¯s tense expression relaxed slightly. Though only someone who knew him could tell. Em was pretty sure it was more in his shoulders than his face, though she could detect it there, too.


    ¡°Will it happen again?¡±


    No, Em thought.


    ¡°I found some scars on her soul, which was probably the problem. They appear to be sealed over now, so I don¡¯t think there¡¯s any more danger.¡±


    The man stood up and dusted off his robe. Which was an insult to Tracy¡¯s housekeeping because there was no dust to remove.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°The young lady appears to have been performing some sort of astral projection. Generally, that only happens if the soul¡¯s been ripped or damaged somehow.¡±


    ¡°What would cause that?¡±


    The priest shrugged. ¡°Various things. The most common are death orbs. I¡¯ve seen cases where they burrow into their victim and create holes until the person goes insane.¡±


    Flint flinched.


    ¡°What needs to be done?¡±


    ¡°Nothing. Likely the young lady¡¯s illness was just the fever before recovery. It closed the holes and now her health should return to normal.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean I can get up!?¡±


    The priest turned back to Em and put a hand on her head. Smiling. Em couldn¡¯t tell if it was a kind smile or if he was just indulging her.


    ¡°That means you can get up,¡± he agreed.


    With a whoop, Em threw off the blanket.


    ¡°Thank you, mister priest!¡±


    ¡°Wait, Emmaline.¡±


    Em pouted at her brother. Which he ignored.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you have something to ask the priest?¡±


    She blinked. He remembered. Of course he remembered, it was Flint. I guess I can¡¯t get out of it. I better play along.


    ¡°Loki has been following me around,¡± Em told the priest. Pointing at the slime, who was at that moment munching on a hank of meat. ¡°What can you tell me about him?¡±


    ¡°Loki?¡±


    Puzzled, the priest threw a glance at the slime. Loki appeared to be ignoring all of them.


    ¡°Well, uh-¡±


    ¡°He keeps playing pranks on me. And everyone else. Should I be worried?¡±


    ¡°Um.¡±


    Still at a loss, the priest looked again at Loki. Then at Flint. The Marquis¡¯ expression didn¡¯t change.


    ¡°Has the pranks been dangerous?¡±


    ¡°No. Just annoying.¡±


    ¡°Well then.¡± The priest clapped his hands with exaggerated relief. ¡°As long as it doesn¡¯t become dangerous, you should be alright. You¡¯ll just need to wait until he loses interest in you.¡±


    He doesn¡¯t believe me, thought Em with a smirk.


    ¡°Ok.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s even funnier, is if he tested me I wouldn¡¯t be able to hide my identity from him,¡± Loki said cheerfully.


    Em snickered and waited for the adults to stop talking. Tracy eventually led the priest away, with Kimball following behind. Leaving her and Flint alone. Flint crossed the room and got to one knee. Face serious.


    ¡°Are you sure you feel fine?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    It was funny. Flint was kneeling in front of her the same way Loki had just a couple days ago. But her brother made her feel shy. And oddly guilty.


    She bit her lip and looked at her hands in her lap.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡±


    ¡°For getting sick.¡±


    I¡¯m sorry, Maddie. For doing the same thing to you.


    Flint covered the side of her head with his big hand and she looked up, eyes teary. He smiled.


    ¡°I¡¯m just glad you¡¯re alive and healthy. That¡¯s all that matters.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll stay healthy,¡± she promised.


    Flint chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s not how that works. But I appreciate it.¡± He stood up and hesitated. ¡°Em, you know I care about you, yes?¡±


    Em tilted her head. ¡°Yes?¡±


    His eyes softened and he put his hand on top of her head. There was a world of difference in her brother¡¯s tender touch and the priest¡¯s stiff one. It made her chest feel warm and her throat constrict.


    ¡°Get dressed. We¡¯ll go down to lunch together.¡±


    With that, Em was allowed out of bed.


    The wedding was in four months.


    They had to leave in two months because it was a three week trip and they had to be in the Capital for at least a month. It was annoying, but they had to prepare for the event and participate in pre-wedding activities.


    She was afraid the next two months would drag and drag and drag. The truth was, she kept herself too busy to be bored. To the point she had to ignore both Flint¡¯s and Tracy¡¯s hints and pleas that she pace herself.


    Swordsmanship, ball with the other kids, chasing down Todd, and working with the physician.


    By the time dinner came and she had a ¡®quiet¡¯ evening ahead of her, she was tired but happy. And while Flint kept working (hypocrite! He¡¯s the one who should be pacing himself!), she would sit down and keep thinking.


    How to help Flint? How to help the March? How to help Prince?


    What did she know that could be useful to them?

 Ep. 39 - Can We Talk?

    The trouble is, I¡¯m not that clever. Not like protagonists in stories.


    It was about three weeks after her illness and she still hadn¡¯t thought of anything else.


    Moodily, she spun a pencil in her fingers and stared at the window. She was in the library today, the depressingly empty shelves surrounding her like guards. The window she was staring at, though, was high up the wall and tucked into the farthest corner from the floor.


    It was the only window that still had stained glass.


    She only noticed the window because she''d once seen it cast colorful patterns on the floor. Usually, it was hidden under an outside overhang, shielded from the sun''s rays. So the pattern appeared only at certain times of the day.


    It was just like the rest of the Lycan kingdom.


    Lots of dull glass or wooden boards replaced the colorful panes because they¡¯d been broken.


    How was Prince doing? Was he still alive?


    She spun the pencil faster and faster in her fingers, chewing her bottom lip. That gladiator had almost killed Prince when she last saw him. How long could he last in a place like that?


    The noise of a window moving startled her and she dropped her pencil.


    After the space widened, head popped inside and for an instant, the two children stared solemnly at each other.


    ¡°Did you climb all the way up here?!¡±


    Em jumped to her feet and raced to the window. Today, she¡¯d chosen a chair on the second floor walkway, making the climb at least a story. If not a story and a half.


    The squirrel Lycan gave her a cheeky smile and pulled himself the rest of the way inside. Then tumbled on his face when he didn¡¯t catch himself in time. Em pulled the window closed with a clunk. Glaring at him.


    ¡°What if you¡¯d fallen outside instead of in here, huh?¡±


    ¡°You worry too much.¡±


    ¡°I admire his ability to get under your skin.¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡±


    She cast a glare at Loki, who was sunning himself on the table.


    ¡°It¡¯s true.¡± Todd arranged himself to sit cross-legged, tail swishing behind him. ¡°You worry like an old woman. You should join Granny¡¯s sewing group.¡±


    That made Em pause.


    ¡°Granny has a sewing group? But I thought she was the only Lycan here.¡±


    Todd gave her a cold look. ¡°There¡¯s a village outside the walls, you know.¡±


    Em raised her hands. In her defense, the village wasn¡¯t just ¡®outside the walls¡¯. It was almost three miles away. Flint would never let her walk there by herself.


    She plopped down on the floor in front of Todd.


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°Uh.¡±


    Looking thoroughly confused, Todd hesitantly pointed upward. Em laughed.


    ¡°No, I mean, what can I do for you?¡±


    ¡°Oh. Nothing. I was just bored and I saw the window was open.¡± He crossed his arms, pretending nonchalance. ¡°I wanted to see why. Well, now I know. A dumb human girl was hot.¡±


    Em stuck her tongue out at him.


    ¡°How¡¯s Grandpa today? I heard he wasn¡¯t feeling well.¡±


    Confused, Todd tilted his head. ¡°Grandpa¡¯s not sick.¡±


    ¡°But I heard he was!¡±


    ¡°Well, they¡¯re wrong.¡±


    ¡°Then why hasn¡¯t he come out in a couple days?¡±


    Todd shrugged. ¡°Probably cuz Uncle Ben is visiting.¡±


    Uncle Ben? Em scrunched up her forehead. Visitors always had to check in at the main building, so this must be a secret meeting. A secret meeting between Lycans. Either that was good¡­ or it wasn¡¯t good at all.


    While Em inwardly fretted, Todd fidgeted.


    ¡°Uncle Ben wanted to see you,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°You said you didn¡¯t have a reason for coming!¡± Todd scrunched his nose at her and Em smirked. Then his words sunk in and she wrinkled her forehead. ¡°Why does your Uncle Ben want to see me?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. But he said to keep it a secret.¡±


    Em pouted and shook her head. ¡°I can¡¯t just go see a stranger. What if he¡¯s a bad guy?¡±


    Todd jumped to his feet, glaring.


    ¡°Uncle Ben¡¯s not a bad guy!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know that! What if he wants to kidnap me? You do know who my brother is, right?¡±


    Todd put his hands on his hips. ¡°I told him you¡¯re stubborn.¡±


    ¡°Did you tell him you¡¯re rude?¡±


    They glared at each other. Then Todd spun on his heel.


    ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll tell him you won¡¯t come cuz you think he¡¯s a kidnapper.¡±


    ¡°Good!¡±


    Todd pulled the window open all the way. With a squeak, Em jumped to her feet and ran to him. Intending to yank him back. But he was too quick for her, so all she could do was lean out the window and watch helplessly as he climbed down the wall.


    The boy even did it upside down like a squirrel. It made her nauseous to watch.


    ¡°You should go.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    Em looked at the slime. He was still sunning himself. Next to him was the arm basket Flint came home with one day. It was like a holster that Loki could ride around in. It worked well¡­ except the times it occasionally oozed, even when Loki wasn¡¯t hungry.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    He did it to annoy her, she was sure.


    ¡°I said, you should go.¡±


    The slime said it slowly. Emphasizing each word.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    He sighed dramatically.


    ¡°Think about it.¡±


    Em frowned and tapped the window sill.


    ¡°Because they might be planning something that could hurt Flint?¡±


    It was a gathering of Lycan, after all. Well, a small meeting of Lycan. Then she flushed. Or it could just be a family reunion. When had she gotten so paranoid?


    ¡°Perhaps.¡±


    She glared at the slime. Then slammed the window, gathered Loki up, and raced down the stairs.


    The gardeners¡¯ cottage was tucked into a corner at the back end of the kitchen gardens.


    Not that there was much distinction between the gardens. Normally, there¡¯d also be pleasure gardens, but since the castle was struggling to stay ahead of their financial difficulties, every garden space had been uprooted and turned into food production.


    She didn¡¯t know how, but the old couple (with Todd¡¯s small help) was taking care of all of it themselves.


    Compared to the gardens, the cottage was a mess. Complete with overgrown ivy a foot deep against the walls. The only reason she could tell a building was there was because she could see where the door and windows peeked out.


    She chose a window and squirmed carefully through the ivy to get closer.


    ¡°... in the market. It would never sell.¡±


    ¡°Then what about rope? It sold well before the war.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯d make it? Let¡¯s face it. Most of our craftsmen were packed up as soon as the bastards could get their hands on them. All we have left are laborers.¡±


    ¡°We still have craftsmen.¡±


    ¡°Who have the skills capable of producing the price of slaves?¡±


    Em wrinkled her forehead. What in the world were they talking about?


    ¡°Hey! You said you weren¡¯t coming.¡±


    Em squawked and stumbled. Which resulted in her getting caught in the ivy and unable to twist around. But she knew who it was, even as she struggled to get herself loose.


    ¡°That¡¯s what you get for spying,¡± Todd smirked. Arms crossed.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t spying!¡±


    ¡°Yes, you were.¡±


    ¡°Fine. I was. Help me out!¡±


    No matter how she moved, the vines seemed to tighten around her. Loki snickered and she shot a glare at her shoulder.


    ¡°Nope. You got yourself in there, you get yourself out.¡±


    As the children bickered, the adults abruptly stopped talking. Then Granny and the visitor stepped outside to observe what was going on.


    ¡°You¡¯re so mean, Todd!¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re a liar.¡±


    ¡°Am not! I told the truth. I was spying. Spying, spying, spying! There, happy?!¡±


    ¡°Enough.¡±


    Both children jumped as the visitor abruptly cut in. The man pulled out a knife and with few movements, cut Em free of the vines. She stumbled and fell to her knees. Then jumped up as quickly as she could and brushed herself off.


    Trying to appear dignified even as her ears burned.


    ¡°So.¡± The man resheathed his knife. ¡°You¡¯re Emmaline Grimshaw, yes?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Em watched him warily. Ready to bolt if she needed to. Crap! This was an isolated part of the grounds. Would anyone hear if she screamed?


    You better help me out if I get into trouble, she thought at Loki.


    The man lowered himself to one knee, bringing himself to Em¡¯s height. And from there bowed to her, though he didn¡¯t drop his eyes as a servant would. This was an ¡®I¡¯m equal to you¡¯ bow.


    She bowed back, also keeping her eyes locked on his.


    The man smiled.


    ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you, miss Emmaline. I¡¯m Ben.¡±


    ¡°Em,¡± she corrected. ¡°Only Flint calls me Emmaline anymore. And that¡¯s only if he¡¯s annoyed with me.¡±


    The stranger chuckled. ¡°Miss Em, then. Can we talk, Miss Em?¡±


    Em crossed her arms and looked at him suspiciously. His eyes crinkled in amusement.


    ¡°I promise, I¡¯m not a kidnapper.¡±


    ¡°Why do you want to talk to me? I don¡¯t know anything important.¡±


    The stranger exchanged a look with Granny. Who was fidgeting in the background and casting worried glances toward the garden entrance.


    ¡°I was wondering if you have any more news about the Prince.¡±


    Em stiffened.


    ¡°Did mister Jay tell you?!¡±


    She hadn¡¯t expected that. How many people had he told?! Well, on consideration, it made sense he¡¯d tell other people. But only if he believed she was telling the truth and Prince Asher was alive somewhere.


    ¡­ Alive as of when she talked to mister Jay, anyway.


    ¡°He did. Can we talk?¡±


    Em bit her lip, her stomach curling with guilt.


    What could she tell him? That Prince might be dead now? Would that be too cruel? Give them hope only to snatch it away?


    Would it be more cruel to pretend otherwise?


    She cast a glance at Loki. Maybe she should ask him first? But she couldn¡¯t. Not with them watching. And he might not answer, anyway. After telling her once, ¡®Yes, Prince is alive,¡¯ he¡¯d refused to do it again.


    He really meant he couldn¡¯t tell her more.


    What was the point of having a god on your side if he won¡¯t answer questions?


    ¡°Ok,¡± she said weakly.


    She kept at least a body length space between her and the stranger as she walked into the cottage. Staying closer to Granny and the curious Todd than to him. Not that she was particularly close to Granny, but she at least knew Granny.


    Granny stopped in the doorway, leaving it open to keep watch.


    The open door made Em feel a little better as she sat on a stool by the cold fireplace.


    Grandpa was sitting at a table, which tilted on a badly fixed leg. The stranger calmly also took a seat next to him, both of them facing her.


    Em didn¡¯t wait to be questioned. After all, he¡¯d already told her what he wanted.


    Cautiously, watching his face, she told him about her last vision of Prince. Except the part where her connection to her other body broke. Skimming over it by explaining that her sickness had made it so she could no longer go see him.


    Uncle Ben pressed his lips together, tapping the table.


    ¡°It sounds like a hopeless cause.¡±


    Grandpa tiredly rubbed his face and Em winced.


    ¡°We still need to check.¡± Ben tapped, tapped, tapped the table. ¡°Unfortunately, there are a dozen gladiatorial arenas in the Empire. And hundreds of contestants. With our limited resources it¡¯ll be difficult to check them all, much less retrieve him if¡­ if he¡¯s still alive.¡±


    Obviously, mister Uncle Ben had informed the gardeners of Em¡¯s visions before she got there.


    Oh!


    Em straightened up, eyes brightening.


    ¡°I can narrow it down for you.¡±


    Ben, who seemed to have forgotten she was there for a moment, flinched and looked at her. ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°His mistress is a Lady Arnold. Will that help?¡±


    ¡°Do you have a given name?¡±


    ¡°No. But she¡¯s important enough or rich enough to have a knightage.¡±


    Ben tapped the table and nodded slowly. ¡°That should help. The more information I have to give to the guild, the easier it¡¯ll be for them to find what we¡¯re looking for.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s been going by Gray in the arena.¡±


    ¡°That will also help.¡±


    Em hesitated. ¡°Aren¡¯t information guilds expensive?¡±


    Every adult in the room flinched.


    ¡°That¡¯s for us to worry about.¡±


    Em hesitated, watching them as they exchanged grim looks. An idea hit her and she squirmed on her seat. They weren¡¯t mister Jay, but¡­ maybe¡­ She could tell them instead of him?


    She fidgeted.


    ¡°Mister Ben?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°If you need funds, why don¡¯t you sell azuremere?¡±

 Ep. 40 - A Promise of Warning

    The room could have frozen over. Slowly, mister Ben stood up. There was something¡­ intimidating now in his demeanor. It made Em flinch and lean back.


    ¡°How do you know about Azuremere?¡±


    Don¡¯t be afraid, Em. They¡¯re already acting on the word of an eleven-year-old.


    Chin trembling, Em raised it.


    ¡°The same way I know about Prince.¡±


    He paused. Then said cooly, ¡°Humans can¡¯t even get to the lake. Why would we sell it?¡±


    Oh!


    Being ¡®non-accessible¡¯ to humans was the biggest reason she hadn¡¯t suggested it to Flint. But the other reason had been because¡­ well, the site was sacred to the Lycan. It was supposedly the birthplace of their species.


    She shook her head frantically.


    ¡°Not the lake! Don¡¯t sell the lake. I meant the water.¡± She leaned on her knees, giving him as earnest a look as she could. ¡°The water is a stabilizer for alchemy. You could make a fortune with it!¡±


    The adults all looked at each other.


    Em clasped her hands. Worried.


    They could probably figure out their finances themselves, but¡­


    Ben sighed and rubbed his forehead. ¡°I¡¯ll look into it.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t just sell azuremere!¡±


    Grandpa jumped up but Ben put a hand on his shoulder.


    ¡°We sold it to each other all the time, Al.¡±


    ¡°Yes, to each other. Not to outsiders.¡±


    Em tilted her head. Since Thiago had been the protagonist of ¡®The Lost Prince¡¯, her knowledge on the actual use and significance of Azuremere was limited. What little she knew came from a scene where Thiago had tortured some poor Lycan for the information.


    It was a lake. It was sacred. And Lycan would drink it before battle. Since they didn¡¯t actually say why, Thiago theorized it probably purified their chakras and unleash their mana potential.


    ¡°It¡¯s still allowed. And this is to reclaim our people. I cannot think of a better cause.¡±


    Em clenched her fists on her knees.


    ¡°If you get your people back, what will happen to me and my brother?¡±


    The room stilled once again.


    Em looked around and glanced at Todd. He was the only one in the room who didn¡¯t seem to be following the conversation. But he was pretending to, rocking back and forth on his butt where he sat on the floor close to her.


    Em dropped her eyes.


    ¡°I understand. We¡¯re intruders. I think even Flint knows that.¡± She raised her chin and smiled. ¡°Just promise you¡¯ll give us the option to leave, ok?¡±


    Tensely, Ben finally nodded.


    ¡°If it comes to that, miss, I promise to give you warning.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Em hopped up off the stool. ¡°I need to go now. Dinner will be ready soon. Are you all coming? You know the dining room¡¯s open to you, too, right?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be eating here. Thank you.¡±


    She stopped in the doorway, glanced at Granny, then turned to look behind her.


    ¡°Mister Ben, we¡¯ll be stopping at mister Jay¡¯s hometown in a month or so. Can I ask him how the search is going? I¡¯m worried about Prince.¡±


    ¡°You can ask¡­¡±


    But I can¡¯t promise he¡¯ll tell.


    She caught that much. So she shrugged, turned, and ran back toward the main building.


    ***


    The Palace was silent. No one but the guards stirred at the ungodly hour of two in the morning. Even the late night aides had finally gone to bed.


    Madeline Dulce had been in the bathroom for nearly an hour by then.


    It had taken that long to finish the worst of the ordeal.


    She should have called for a physician. She needed to call for a physician. Because this could possibly kill her without proper care.


    But, for now, she couldn¡¯t.


    Instead, she rocked. And rocked. And rocked. Holding a towel wrapped thing to her chest as tears ran down her face.


    A part of her mind was telling her it was a blessing that this happened. She¡¯d been so careful not to get pregnant. It was an accident and the child¡¯s life would have been misery if it had lived.


    That didn¡¯t stop the sobs crawling up her throat and choking in her mouth before they could fully form.


    She had to be quiet or she¡¯d wake someone.


    The part of her mind that was being logical was also making plans. She had to find another solution to prevent pregnancy. A more permanent solution. All she¡¯d have to do was find the right surgeon¡­


    She couldn¡¯t stop the screech of rage and despair.


    It was just one. The howl of a monster in the night.


    If she hadn¡¯t been holding something so precious, she would have thrown it.


    Why?!


    What was the point of all of this?!


    Why hadn¡¯t she known?!


    She hadn¡¯t had any symptoms at all. She¡¯d even had her menstrual cycle. But the baby had been formed well enough that she was pretty sure it was a girl.


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    She sobbed.


    The sounds were no longer staying at bay, echoing in the luxurious bathroom. The extension of her prison.


    What was the point? Should she¡­ should she just end it?


    There was nothing for her. Why should she continue the struggle? The secret meetings? The spying? The asset accumulation? The dead babies, the hopeless future¡­? Why should she keep going?...


    Why should she¡­?


    As though someone sat behind her ear and whispered, she clearly and forcefully heard one word in her mind.


    Grimshaw.


    Her sobs slowed. Then crawled and hiccuped.


    Grimshaw.


    She hugged the towel closer, her bloody nightdress moving sluggishly with her.


    Grimshaw.


    She had to keep going. For Grimshaw.


    It was all she had left.


    Knock. Knock. Knock.


    ¡°Your highness? Are you alright? I heard screaming-¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she rasped back. ¡°Call a doctor, I mean, a physician. Call a physician.¡±


    ***


    Em¡¯s eyes flew open. For a second, she was confused. Waking from a dream about Prince being eaten by a snake, she stared up at Tracy without comprehending what she was seeing.


    Tracy, meanwhile, looked blankly out the window as the carriage rattled on.


    With a groan, Em rolled over and sat up. Rubbing her head.


    What happened to Prince?


    ¡°This is stupid!¡±


    ¡°What is?¡±


    Em gestured to the carriage.


    ¡°This! Aren¡¯t there easier ways to travel?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Why aren¡¯t we using them?¡±


    Tracy finally looked away from the window. Raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been amazing everyone with your unexpected accounting skills, and you can¡¯t answer that question?¡±


    Em scowled.


    Of course she could answer that. It had been a rhetorical question, anyway.


    As Em in the real¡­ in the other world, one thing she¡¯d done to help Maddie was learn basic accounting. (After all, what else could she do since she had to sit for hours of every day? And she¡¯d been hoping to get a job as an accountant, which she could do at home. But as her health deteriorated, so had that idea.)


    It never occurred to her that those skills might be useful here.


    Until several days after talking with Mister Ben.


    It was after all her healing and swordsmanship training were done for the day. Training she¡¯d tried to increase, but found that she simply couldn¡¯t rush strength training without hurting herself.


    It left her afternoons completely empty and her soul frustrated.


    That particular day, she¡¯d taken tea up to Flint. And out of pure boredom, opened a ledger on Flint¡¯s desk.


    Then immediately gaped at what was a complete mess.


    Since no one on his staff was trained in any kind of accounting (other than himself), Flint had been forced to wade through the mess alone. For months. Struggling to bring the numbers to heel so he¡¯d have accurate reports to send to the Empire.


    Convicting Sucket had been the only thing he¡¯d been able to straighten out completely.


    To Em¡¯s (and everyone else¡¯s) surprise, she only had to show her skills for about ten minutes before Flint promptly gave her a job.


    Not only to sort out the ledgers. But to train one of his knights to help her.


    The result was a month of stuffed afternoons, a knight she felt was mostly competent to take care of things while they were gone, and a tidy partial report Flint could give to the administrative office in the Capital.


    Em bounced her head back on the seat. Pressing her lips together.


    ¡°Why can¡¯t Mister Kimball fix the gates? We could do in three days what¡¯s been taking us three weeks!¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    It had been silent long enough that Tracy had forgotten what they were talking about. Turning her tired gaze on Em, she watched the little girl in bewilderment. Before her eyes lightened up with understanding.


    ¡°Mister Kimball is a busy man.¡±


    ¡°So? Isn¡¯t it his job to take care of the sorcery stuff?¡±


    ¡°So,¡± said Tracy slowly. ¡°Until the defenses along the north and west borders are secure, the master can¡¯t spare Mister Kimball for anything else. At least, not for anything big.¡±


    Teaching me must not have been a ¡®big¡¯ task, Em thought.


    She turned her body to look out the window. Unhappy with the answer, but unable to argue with it.


    If she hadn¡¯t just been grumping, she could have figured out the answer for herself. Lately, the monsters coming out of the northern pass had been more than usual, so everyone knew the situation. Not only knew, but knew more details about it than the knights normally shared.


    Especially with all the injuries the knights had been coming back with. At least with those, Em had been getting plenty of practice for her healing.


    The only bright side about this whole trip was they¡¯d be stopping at the border reeve.


    The new reeve master, Carter Grimshaw, is a cousin on her father¡¯s side. He¡¯d promptly packed up and moved as soon as the new Marquis¡¯ letter came. Especially when it included the promise of a baron title.


    Once the title was approved, it would no longer be a reeve but a barony.


    The important thing to Em, though, was she¡¯d be able to look for Jay.


    ¡°How much longer?¡±


    Tracy shrugged. ¡°We¡¯ll get there before dinner. Please be patient, miss.¡±


    The carriage stopped about twenty minutes later for a quick break. Em ran off into a copse of trees to relieve herself. It took a second because she had to put Loki¡¯s small basket where she was certain the god couldn¡¯t peek.


    When she was done, she picked the basket back up and tapped it.


    ¡°What?¡±


    Loki sounded sleepy. Em rolled her eyes.


    ¡°Can you tell me now?¡±


    The slime stretched himself and pushed the lid up. If he¡¯d had eyes in that shape, they would be glaring.


    ¡°I did too much the first time.¡±


    ¡°Please?! What if I can¡¯t find Mister Jay?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±


    Em scowled at him. ¡°But you told me he was alive before.¡±


    ¡°And I also told you I can¡¯t tell you any more than that.¡±


    ¡°Giving me one favor without warning me it¡¯s the only one isn¡¯t fair.¡±


    She felt his laughter.


    ¡°One favor, you say? I do you many favors. You just keep asking outside my capacity, and that¡¯s not my fault.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t ask for most of those pranks! Since when is that useful, anyway?¡±


    ¡°Emmaline! Miss Emmaline! Are you finished?¡±


    Em¡¯s head snapped up. Vaguely she saw someone waving at her through the trees. Grumbling under her breath, she tied the basket to her waist and hurried back to the carriage.


    ¡°Hey! Easy there. I don¡¯t like b-bouncing. Ow!¡±


    Em tapped the basket with a smile as she climbed back into the carriage.


    ¡°You¡¯re not hurt,¡± she muttered. ¡°You¡¯re just trying to make me feel guilty.¡±


    ¡°Normally it works.¡±


    ¡°Guilty for what?¡± Tracy climbed back in and shut the door.


    Em shrugged with a grin. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    About the time Tracy started dozing, Em¡¯s thoughts returned to her dream.


    It wasn¡¯t a real ¡®Prince dream¡¯. She¡¯d completely stopped having those after her other body died. If dreams really represented a person¡¯s inner thoughts, then this one expressed her growing worry for him.


    Funny how attached she was. Even though she thought he was a dream the entire time.


    She stared out her window. Gnawing on her lip and not really seeing the landscape.


    He was in a damn gladiator arena! And he was only fifteen. A thousand things could¡¯ve happened to him. Besides the obvious threat of death, what if that woman Em saw one time killed him in his sleep? There could be a training accident, too.


    And what if that Lady Arnold person did something to him?


    ¡­ What if he was hurt?

 Ep. 41 - A Throne of Shadows

    She already knew he was scared and completely alone.


    Her head her and her stomach ached. At this rate, she was going to give herself ulcers.


    Why was she so helpless and useless? Even with a healthy body, she still ended up unable to do much more than ¡®accounting¡¯.


    She shot a glare at Loki¡¯s basket down on her lap. Loki could probably find out if Prince was alright if he wanted to. She didn¡¯t understand why he refused her so firmly.


    They¡¯d only spent two days in the carriage. But by the time Flint help her down at the reeve house, she felt like she had already done the three weeks of travel.


    ¡°Marquis!¡±


    Carter approached with an outstretched hand. He was older than Flint by at least ten years. But wore a big, boyish grin as he greeted his cousin, which made him seem younger.


    Em distractedly looked around.


    If Mister Jay were here, where would he be?


    There were a lot of faces milling around. Their escort of six knights, Flint, servants, Tracy¡­ but none of them were Mister Jay or Mister Ben. Though she didn¡¯t know if she¡¯d see Mister Ben here at all, since she didn¡¯t know what his relation to Mister Jay was.


    ¡°And you are Emmaline, yes?¡±


    Em snapped her attention back to Carter. Who half crouched to hold out a hand to her. She was almost twelve now, and getting taller, so from that position he was actually crouched shorter than her.


    Immediately, she liked him. With a bright smile, she gave him her hand, and he gallantly kissed it like she was a grownup.


    ¡°Nice to meet you, Mister Carter.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you¡¯re healthy. I was afraid this old boar might¡¯ve forgotten to feed you.¡±


    Flint rolled his eyes at the man¡¯s teasing and strolled past him.


    ¡°We¡¯re all tired, Carter,¡± he said flatly. Without even looking over his shoulder. ¡°Please show us to our rooms. You have a meal prepared?¡±


    ¡°Of course, cousin.¡± Carter stood up and offered his arm to Em. Em was just tall enough to accept his arm at a slightly awkward angle. ¡°I hope you like stuffed pie,¡± he told Em in a low voice.


    ¡°Stuffed with what?¡±


    ¡°Chicken and our latest batch of seasoned good cheese.¡±


    She beamed. ¡°Sounds amazing!¡±


    Tracy drew a bath for Em. When Em realized the reeve didn¡¯t have running water like the March manor did, she insisted on something closer to a horse bath so Tracy and the other servants didn¡¯t have to carry so much water upstairs.


    Then, feeling less dirty, she gladly changed into fresh clothes and escaped to the garden.


    Now it was time to get to work.


    ¡°Have you seen a man named Jay? He¡¯s a Lycan, has reddish-brown hair-¡±


    It was frustrating at first. The humans didn¡¯t seem to know him and the lycan didn¡¯t want to answer.


    ¡°Now, what does my little cousin want with that rascal?¡±


    Em turned in surprise to find Carter watching her with a raised eyebrow. Meanwhile, the lycan servant she¡¯d been questioning scurried away.


    ¡°You know him, Mister Carter?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s one of the shepherds who are supposed to report to me every few weeks. I¡¯ve only seen him once so far, but it was an interesting incident. What do you want with him?¡±


    Em frowned but didn¡¯t ask what he meant. Instead, she answered his question with her prepared answer.


    ¡°He has a daughter named Laisha. I promised to come see her when I visited.¡±


    ¡°Ah, I know her, too. I¡¯m afraid they¡¯re probably both at home right now.¡± He turned and pointed. ¡°You see the village?¡±


    Since there were no walls around the reeve, Em could see as far as the village about half a mile away.


    ¡°They live there?¡±


    ¡°No. I believe the live about three miles past the village.¡±


    Three miles?!


    Em¡¯s shoulders slumped, and she chewed on her lip. That meant it was at least a seven-mile walk to and from. Flint would never let her go. Especially since it was going to be dark soon, and they needed to leave early in the morning.


    ¡°Does he live on the road?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so¡­ No, wait. I believe he¡¯s a cottage just east of the village.¡±


    Great.


    Not only didn¡¯t he live on the road, but if she chose the wrong direction, she could get seriously lost.


    Carter patted her head. ¡°If you wish, I¡¯ll make sure she¡¯s here when you come back.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine.¡±


    What should she do?...


    What else could she do? She had to know if they¡¯d found Prince yet. It made her squirm inside. Mister Jay wouldn¡¯t be happy to see her. And if she got lost, Flint would be angry.


    She¡¯d inconvenience a lot of people.


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    But¡­ but she had to know.


    After dinner and after Tracy put her to bed, Em got up again and got dressed. Then dozed sitting up, so she¡¯d be ready to leave when she was sure most of the building was asleep. A little after midnight, and with Loki¡¯s basket strapped to her arm (where it was supposed to be instead of to her belt), she climbed out her window.


    The walk to the village wasn¡¯t that bad.


    The moon was almost full tonight, so there was plenty of light. It was getting close to the end of summer but the nights were still warm, so it wasn¡¯t unpleasant. And Loki told her stories about the time he¡¯d pretended to be a rabbit and led a few hunters on a merry chase.


    ¡°Carter said it¡¯s three miles east,¡± she muttered as she skirted the east edge of the village.


    ¡°If he comes down often, I¡¯m sure he¡¯s left a trail.¡±


    Em brightened. She hadn¡¯t thought of that.


    She found four paths altogether. Two of them led to some pastures, which were being guarded by the night shepherds and their dogs. The dogs growled at her and she hastily retreated from them as soon as she knew it wasn¡¯t a house.


    By the time she started up the third trail, it was three in the morning. And she was getting sleepy.


    Rubbing her eyes, she grumbled at her child body. Her awareness dimming the more she yawned and stumbled. Too sleepy to even giggle at Loki¡¯s tales and antics.


    ¡°Little human?¡±


    Loki interrupted her roaming thoughts, and she stopped walking. Rubbing her eyes again.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I think we better go back.¡±


    Was he¡­ scared? No. Concerned. His voice was concerned.


    Suddenly more awake, she stretched and looked around. ¡°Why? There¡¯s nothing here.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just feel that something is¡­ off.¡±


    Off? Em looked around closer. That¡¯s when she realized she was no longer on the path. When had it disappeared?!


    Frantically, she turned around. Everything was dark. Someone must¡¯ve snuffed out the last of the lights at both the village and the reeve, so she didn¡¯t even have that to follow.


    ¡°Loki,¡± she whispered urgently. ¡°I don¡¯t see the way back. Do you?¡±


    The slime squirmed his way out of the basket. Falling on the ground, he turned into his human form before landing crouched on the ground. He looked around.


    ¡°Dingle!¡± he swore. Gritting his teeth.


    ¡°You can¡¯t see the way?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not the problem. Give me your hand.¡±


    He stood up and reached for her. Feeling his urgency, she tried to grab his hand¡­


    And went right through it.


    He swore again, words that included ¡°Dingle, blast, horn dance, and tripes!¡± Again, he tried to grab her, not caring what he grabbed. And for a second he caught her cloak.


    Then he was gone.


    Completely gone.


    But so was everything else. Except for the moon, which was so overcast that it barely gave any light at all.


    For a long time, Em stood completely still. No longer sleepy and her insides frozen in terror. She was alone. And everything was dark.


    ¡°What do I do? What do I do?! Loki! Loki, help!¡±


    Something¡­ rustled. Then¡­ growled.


    In a panic, she started running. Then tripped over something she couldn¡¯t see. The rustling got closer and she crawled, bashing up her knees in her efforts to get away and get to her feet at the same time. Every time she almost got up, she found something else to trip over.


    Blood trickled down her legs from a variety of cuts, and her hands stung from catching herself.


    The growls turned into demonic laughter, which grew and echoed as more voices joined in. Then, like a cartoon, on all sides eyes began appearing. White, big, glowing, and all watching her.


    With a shriek and a sob, she made one last effort to get to her feet¡­


    And this time when she tripped, she rolled.


    Down and down.


    The laughter followed her. Her shoulders, side, back, legs, everything hit rocks and bushes she couldn¡¯t see. She covered her face, trying to protect herself from the bashing.


    Then she landed and everything abruptly went silent.


    Sobbing, she curled up and waited. Waited for the things to find her. To eat her.


    ¡°Loki? Flint?! Maddie?! Please, Maddie. Please, wake me up!¡±


    Maddie wouldn¡¯t wake her up. Maddie was dead. Just like Em was technically dead. Dead, dead, dead.


    ¡°So, you are the one making all the fuss.¡±


    Em froze. Terrified, but more afraid of being attacked by something she couldn¡¯t see, she turned her head. Looking.


    It was still dark. But the moon was giving off a smoky glow that somehow filled the void and revealed some of what was in it.


    And nearby was a man. A man sitting... on a throne? A tall, dark throne with claws that reached around toward the front. Like it wanted to gobble the sitter up but some invisible force kept it from doing so.


    The claws even twitched, making Em scramble to her butt and facing it fully.


    And like the bad stereotype of a villain, the man stroked a critter sitting on his lap as he watched Em take in what she was seeing.


    ¡°Who-who are you? Wh-what do you w-want?¡±


    The critter moved then. Turning so Em saw that, whatever it was, it had the same big, white eyes as the ones that had tormented her earlier.


    The man¡¯s face twisted. Literally. She saw his features move unnaturally around so that they bunched up briefly on one side of his face. It was both disgusting and terrifying.


    She covered her mouth as tears of terror fell down her cheeks.


    His face relaxed back into something mostly human.


    ¡°I just wanted a look at you.¡±


    He stroked the creature and smiled. Em whimpered.


    She was too scared to move.


    The man laughed at her whimpers and stood up. Not bothering to cushion the creature as it simply tumbled off his lap and dashed into the smoky darkness.


    Then he strode to Em and grabbed her by the chin, forcing her hand away from her face to do so.


    The man laughed at her whimpers and stood up. Not bothering to cushion the creature as it simply tumbled off his lap and dashed into the smoky darkness.


    Then he strode to Em and grabbed her by the chin, forcing her hand away to do so.


    The man laughed at her whimpers and stood up. Not bothering to cushion the creature as it simply tumbled off his lap and dashed into the smoky darkness. Then he strode to Em and grabbed her by the chin, forcing her hand away to do so.


    ¡°How delicious,¡± he whispered. Then a long, black tongue snaked out of his mouth to lick her tears.


    Em gagged and flinched away, closing her eyes against the dry sensation.


    ¡°The tears of the living. The torment of souls.¡± The tongue ran down her other cheek. ¡°Delicious.¡±


    Is that what you wanted? To torment me?


    She wanted to ask but the words wouldn¡¯t come out. Her throat was frozen. The man, creature, monster, whatever it was, didn¡¯t seem to need her to say it for him to hear it. With a laugh, he let go of her chin.


    ¡°That is a bonus.¡±


    What do you want!? Go away.


    Loki! Please, please help me!


    ¡°That buffoon? You call to that as your god?¡± The man snorted. He held out his arms. ¡°Aren¡¯t I a more powerful god? Aren¡¯t I not more worthy of your worship and pleas?¡±


    The features on his face were twisting again. This time in a swirl of anger she could almost taste. She couldn¡¯t look away. A part of her convinced that if she did, she¡¯d die.

 Ep. 42 - Wreaths and Death Orbs

    ¡°I wish it were that easy,¡± the man fumed. ¡°If I could kill every last one of you bugs who throw your devotion to the undeserving, I would. I¡¯d drag you down to hell and use you for pillows and foot rests.¡±


    He grabbed her chin again. This time she felt claws prick her skin and something wet trickle down her throat.


    Did he cut her?


    Loki!


    Something flashed and they both looked in that direction. It was like the moon, the light dull. But somehow¡­ brighter and whiter than the moon. It wasn¡¯t the sight of the light that was brighter but the feel of it.


    Like¡­ like flashing pure hope.


    It flashed again.


    ¡°Ah. It looks like my time is almost up. I¡¯ll just leave you with a little warning, bug.¡±


    The man let go of her chin with a shove and took a step back. Em saw a black thing come out of the smoky darkness and circle the man¡¯s leg. It gave her a white stare that drew her attention even though she knew, she knew, the man was the more dangerous one.


    ¡°If you interfere with my plans, bug, I¡¯ll personally greet your soul and drag it to hell at your death. And believe me, I can make your torment worse than brimstone.¡±


    Suddenly, he was gone.


    Actually, all of it suddenly vanished as light flashed through and ate at the smoky darkness. Some of the darkness condensed into floating blackish balls, which zipped away from her like cockroaches.


    Death orbs.


    She barely had time to process that when someone picked her up.


    The young woman held her like she was three, her legs wrapped around the woman¡¯s waist and her arms around her neck. The woman murmured soothingly as other people scattered and chased the death orbs away with¡­ wreaths?


    ¡°Shh, shh, love. We¡¯ve got you. We¡¯ve got you.¡±


    Em¡¯s sobs returned and she clung to the woman desperately. Hiding her face in her savior¡¯s neck.


    ¡°Sherrie?¡± one of the men called.


    ¡°Can¡¯t you hear her? She¡¯s fine. Traumatized but fine. Let¡¯s get her back to the hut.¡±


    ¡°What the hell were you thinking?!¡±


    Mister Ben, Em identified dully. Watching the man pace in front of the hearth, his rage in every step.


    ¡°I¡¯m so-so-sor-¡±


    She couldn¡¯t say the whole thing. Her bottom lip and chin trembled too much.


    ¡°Enough, Ben,¡± Sherrie snapped. She still held Em, but now she was sitting comfortably in a rocking chair. ¡°Yelling at her won¡¯t help.¡±


    The man cursed and sat down on a wobbly stool. Rubbing his forehead.


    Mister Jay came in from outside. He''d just sent most of the other people away.


    From the sound of it, they''d had some sort of meeting before going to work. What was it now? Four? Maybe five in the morning?


    ¡°I n-need to get back,¡± she stuttered. She tried to get off of Sherrie¡¯s lap but the woman held on harder. ¡°I need- before Flint -¡±


    Ben cursed again.


    ¡°Just what we need! That human-¡±


    He cut himself off. Glowering at Em. Who shrunk back against Sherrie.


    Jay, used to children, calmly came back from the side of the room where the ¡®kitchen¡¯ was.


    ¡°Eat this.¡±


    ¡°Wh-what is-¡±


    He popped something into Em¡¯s mouth.


    She flinched. Then she slowly rolled the thing around with her tongue.


    Tasting the sweetness of a cube of honey.


    ¡°That''ll give you some energy. Breathe.¡±


    Without another chair to sit on, Jay sat on the ground in front of the rocking chair and smiled up at Em.


    ¡°Now, why on earth were you out there alone in the middle of the night?¡±


    Em wiped her eyes.


    It didn''t take much to explain. And Em thought she was being relatively calm. But Sherrie felt her shaking and tears kept leaking out.


    ¡°Have-have you seen my slime?¡±


    The men had been absorbing with incredulity the fact that she''d been looking for them, so her question took them by surprise.


    ¡°Your what?¡±


    ¡°Slime?¡±


    Feeling a little calmer, Em sat up straighter, holding Sherrie''s arm a little more tightly than intended.


    ¡°My slime, Loki. He''s my pet. Did you see him out there?¡±


    The adults looked at each other. Their expressions were a mix of confusion and amusement.


    ¡°I''m afraid not,¡± said Jay


    Ben stood up.


    ¡°Enough. The girl is right, she needs to get back before they notice she''s gone.¡± He gritted his teeth. ¡°I''ll bet that bastard would fly off if he finds his precious sister missing.¡±


    Em¡¯s jaw stiffened.


    This time Sherrie wasn¡¯t prepared for how quickly Em got off her lap and faced Ben. Hands on hips.


    ¡°Excuse me!¡±


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    Ben ignored her, talking to Jay.


    ¡°I''m the fastest. I can get her back in ten minutes.¡±


    ¡°The flight might be traumatic for her.¡±


    ¡°We''ll blindfold-¡±


    ¡°I said excuse me!¡± Em shouted. ¡°Don''t you dare call my brother a bastard! You have no idea how hard he''s working to keep everyone in the March safe. Including the Lycan!¡±


    As though under a spell, the adults fell silent. Too stunned to immediately react.


    ¡°If my brother¡¯s a bastard, it¡¯s because he doesn¡¯t put up with shit! Not yours and not anyone else¡¯s! Do you know how long he works every single day? I¡¯ve seen the damn reports! He¡¯s fighting monsters, doing stupid things like the accounting, and he¡¯s doing his best to oust the stupid people that mean Thiago keeps sending. Last week he even stopped smugglers stealing lycan babies!¡±


    Her rage felt like it was rolling off of her.


    Fear and terror were completely forgotten.


    ¡°And he¡¯s doing it all on almost no budget. And you sit there calling him a bastard?! How dare you!¡±


    For a long moment, there was no sound except for Em¡¯s huffing. She had no more words, but she felt like she¡¯d run a mile without a break and at high speed. Her head pounded and her hands shook.


    Abruptly, she spun away from them.


    ¡°I¡¯m going back by myself,¡± she declared over her shoulder.


    Of course, they didn¡¯t allow that. She was aware of them following her. But now there were some lights lit at the main house. Probably in the kitchens, where they¡¯d be preparing bread or something for the day.


    With the moon now down, those lights were all that was guiding her.


    She wiped furious tears away. Half wishing she was big enough to give those stupid lycan a decent pounding.


    And half aware that one of them, maybe all three of them, were following her.


    Abruptly, one of them picked her up. She knew it was one of the men by the height. She struggled then changed tactics as they abruptly lifted off the ground. With a squeak, she grabbed him around the neck and squeezed her eyelids shut.


    The flight really did only take a few minutes.


    By the time Ben landed, Em was so exhausted from all the emotional turbulence that she wobbled when he set her down.


    She looked up at him.


    For a second, neither said anything.


    ¡°Did you find Prince yet?¡±


    Even to her, her voice sounded dead. Completely devoid of emotion. Except maybe the scratchiness of crying and yelling.


    ¡°No.¡±


    She wiped an eye. Even though it was now dry and so swollen it hurt to touch. Without another word, she nodded, turned, and left the man. Who just watched her go. Making sure she crawled back into her window alright.


    His head pounding.


    ***


    For him, the season was over.


    Asher closed his eyes. Listening to an official announce who¡¯d be moving onto the events at other arenas.


    At first, he thought that every match was a ¡®to the death¡¯ fight.


    It wasn¡¯t.


    The opponents could kill each other. No one would be faulted for it if they did. And they could get major points with the crowd, sponsors, and officials if they did.


    But Asher found that even between the freemen and the slaves there was a sort of camaraderie that developed the longer they trained and fought each other. Not the kind of camaraderie where you could trust them to have your back. But a sort of truce that said, ¡®If I don¡¯t have to kill you, I won¡¯t. And I expect the same courtesy.¡¯


    So there were more ¡®losers¡¯ who had to wait for the next season for a chance to win than he thought there would be.


    Him included.


    Of course, there were always exceptions. People everyone expected might break the truce.


    At his final loss, he thought he¡¯d die at Zaria¡¯s hands. But for whatever reason, she¡¯d suddenly decided he wasn¡¯t worth killing and had walked away with the crowd pounding his eardrums.


    He rubbed his leg.


    As though it still hurt from the partial healing he received.


    ¡°The winners, pack your things. You¡¯ll be leaving for Elyana tonight. The rest of you, go back to your schedules.¡±


    Wearily, Asher stood up. Noting the way Zaria half bounced her way to her room, ecstatic with her advancement. He rolled his eyes and turned away.


    Only to have someone grab his arm.


    ¡°Your mistress is upstairs,¡± the messenger hissed. ¡°Get going.¡±


    ¡°Ugh.¡±


    He clenched his fists at his sides then reluctantly changed directions.


    Lady Arnold was where she always was when she visited. Sipping tea while the servants watched with blank faces from the edges of the room. One man had a handprint shaped red mark on his cheek.


    Which told Asher all he needed to know about the woman¡¯s mood.


    Without prompting, he got to his knees next to the tea table. Bowing his head.


    I am a prince of Wyngarde. I am a prince of Wyngarde.


    The woman waited so long to acknowledge him that his feet started to feel numb. He flexed his toes.


    Finally, done with her tea, she put it down.


    ¡°You lost.¡±


    He didn¡¯t answer.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been investigating the sponsor. It wasn¡¯t an individual but a guild with uncertain business dealings.¡±


    She waited a heartbeat but Asher said nothing.


    ¡°When I pressed for why they were interfering, the answer they gave me was they¡¯ve been looking for certain lycan characteristics. They don¡¯t particularly care if you win or lose, just that you survive.¡±


    Her tone turned amused.


    ¡°Because they have a client who wants pretty babies.¡±


    Asher flinched and clenched his teeth.


    I am a prince of Wyngarde.


    The woman finally looked at him. Smiling in a way Asher would have called demonic as she withdrew something from her valise.


    Three envelopes.


    ¡°I decided to stop pursuing my first deal. What the guild offered me to stop pushing for your death was far more valuable.¡±


    Why are you telling me?


    His hands twitched. Successfully, he kept them relaxed.


    ¡°There¡¯s a catch, though. Their client wants proof that the product is alive and would preferably like to see it before its all marred up.¡±


    ¡°And what will this client do if I happen to win my freedom?¡±


    It came out before he could stop it.


    The woman laughed and Asher flinched.


    ¡°That won¡¯t happen. And you won¡¯t give up because you don¡¯t want to die,¡± she said cheerfully. Tapping her knee with the envelopes and smiling brightly. ¡°Now, follow Hans. You¡¯ll be going with me to some very important events.¡±


    She tapped the envelopes again meaningfully.


    ***


    Em told Flint what happened. Leaving out that her real purpose had been to ask about Prince and telling him instead it was to see Laisha.


    She¡¯d never seen him so angry.


    At least, not at her.


    The only reason she told him was because of the death orbs. Her stupid conscience wouldn¡¯t let her leave the area without making sure something was done about them.


    He delayed their departure by a day so he, a few knights, and a priest could go searching for the source of the death orbs. And found them hovering over the unmarked grave of three unknown individuals.


    The grave was new enough that it wasn¡¯t from the war.


    He left Carter in charge of investigating the deaths and left the reeve a day late.


    During all of that, Em was grounded to her room. She wasn¡¯t allowed even a toe outside the door. And to make sure she didn¡¯t try sneaking out again, the window was padlocked.


    It was a good thing the building was well insulated, keeping the coolness from the night before in. Otherwise it would have been a hot and miserable punishment.


    Would Flint have been annoyed that she slept through most of it?


    She didn¡¯t know what happened to Loki until the next morning, when she sleepily got back onto the carriage. Where she found Loki¡¯s basket waiting for her.


    ¡°Where did you find him?!¡±

 Ep. 43 - Enter Eileen

    Em turned gleaming eyes on Tracy as the woman got into the carriage with her.


    Puzzled, Tracy glanced between Em and the basket.


    ¡°In your room. I had to take him away for your punishment.¡±


    ¡°Is he hungry?¡±


    ¡°No, no. I fed him twice yesterday and once this morning. We shouldn¡¯t have any accidents.¡±


    That wasn¡¯t what Em was worried about. With a sigh of relief, she pulled Loki out of the basket and surprised him and Tracy by hugging him.


    ¡°Did you bring them to help me?¡± she whispered to him. While Tracy leaned out the door to talk to a knight.


    ¡°Bring who?¡± he said innocently. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    Em smiled and hugged him again before putting him back into the basket.


    He was a little pain in the butt sometimes, but a good friend nonetheless.


    The rest of the trip went without incident. Unless you counted the time Loki got bored at dinner and tripped Tracy.


    Straight into the arms of a knight with a scar on his cheek.


    It was interesting to watch the two blush and avoid each other¡¯s glances. All while taking peeks whenever they thought the other wasn¡¯t looking.


    For the whole rest of the trip.


    Toward the end, Em swore she saw them kiss. But it was so fast, and half hidden by the carriage, she wasn¡¯t 100% certain.


    ¡°Maybe you should be the god of love, instead. Or a little cupid angel.¡±


    ¡°No, thank you.¡±


    But a three-week trip was still a three-week torture. By the end, Em was so tired and grumpy her attitude affected even Tracy. Em tried to cut down on her whining, but it was hard not to channel the half spoiled Emmaline in those circumstances.


    ¡°The city is only a mile away!¡± someone shouted outside.


    There was a chorus of cheers.


    ¡°Thank the gods,¡± Tracy muttered under her breath.


    Em sat up and crawled across the seat to the window. Sticking her head out as her spirits revived.


    There it was.


    Elyana.


    Home.


    Or what used to be home. To Em¡¯s surprise, the feeling she once associated with the Capital city wasn¡¯t there.


    Instead, the word home brought to mind a certain old castle. Along with memories of the kitchen staff greeting her, dragging Todd off to play ball and practice swordplay with her, and hanging out in Flint¡¯s office.


    Her stomach clenched.


    Home. I want to go home.


    When had Silver Vale become home? The only things it was missing was her parents and Maddie.


    Deciding not to think about the dead, Em pushed herself further out the window and enjoyed a breeze until they were inside the gates.


    Where everything seemed like chaos.


    The wedding wasn¡¯t for another month. But there were many nobles from all over the country, merchants taking advantage of the event, and not to mention common folk also here to enjoy the festivities¡­


    It made for crowded roadways.


    The carriage slowed to a painstaking crawl.


    ¡°At this point, it might be faster to walk,¡± Em complained.


    Tracy swallowed a smile, nodding to herself in agreement as she looked out the window.


    After two hours of crawling through the crowds, they finally entered a less busy street and picked up the pace.


    Then they pulled up in front of an unfamiliar house.


    Em blinked up at the monstrous building. Which was bigger and fancier than the barony had been.


    ¡°What is this place?¡± she whispered to Tracy.


    ¡°This is the home of Lady Eileen Raynish.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    Before Tracy could answer, Flint opened the door and motioned for Em to step out.


    Leaving everyone but Tracy outside, Em and Flint went inside. Where they were led to a receiving room close to the front hall.


    Inside was fancy, too.


    Em leaned in to study a statue on a pedestal. It was grotesquely shaped like two men. One was a half transformed lycan lion and the other a warrior stabbing the first in the heart.


    Both butt naked.


    ¡°Don¡¯t touch anything.¡±


    Em straightened. ¡°I wasn¡¯t touching.¡±


    She was pretty sure if she touched that statue, she¡¯d end up infected, anyway.


    ¡°Good. Don¡¯t even sit. Since we¡¯re filthy from traveling.¡±


    She frowned at her brother. Who had taken a stance with his arms crossed and was scowling at the door they¡¯d just come through.


    ¡°Why did we come here before bathing, then?¡±


    ¡°Because-¡±


    The door opened. Not with a bang but there was a sense of force behind it. And in marched¡­ an old woman.


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    Tall, straight-backed, chin held haughtily high, she marched straight to Flint and thrust her hand in his face. Em¡¯s mouth dropped.


    ¡°Flint, nephew, how good of you to come.¡±


    The words were polite but her tone¡­ she sounded partly like she was trying to flatter him and partly annoyed.


    Flint took her hand and kissed it respectfully.


    She must be a Marchioness or higher, Em concluded. No one but a higher or equal rank would be so rude.


    ¡°You look well, Lady Raynish.¡±


    She waved that away. As though it were old news and needn¡¯t be bothered with.


    ¡°You¡¯re late,¡± she informed him. Again, trying to sound polite but edged with annoyance.


    ¡°I apologize. The roads were not favorable.¡±


    ¡°You have an entire March at your disposal, and yet you don¡¯t have a working gate?¡±


    Em glanced at Tracy. They had this conversation before.


    ¡°There is much work to do. The gate being only one item of business and not the most important one.¡±


    The woman humphed and looked around.


    ¡°Even when I was a girl and sorcerers were rarer, there were working gates in every county. Or at the very least, every Duchy capital.¡±


    Then she spotted Em, who was half hiding behind Tracy.


    ¡°Is this the child?¡±


    A pained look crossed Flint¡¯s eyes. It was gone almost as soon as Em spotted it. But the apologetic look that replaced it didn¡¯t disappear until he met Em¡¯s gaze and returned his attention to the lady.


    ¡°This is my little sister Emmaline. Em, come and greet Lady Eileen.¡±


    Warily watching the woman, Em stepped out from behind Tracy and curtsied.


    The woman tutted.


    ¡°Aunt Eileen. We may not be blood but we¡¯re still related. Do that curtsy again, child. No, deeper. Your footing is awkward and your expression revealing. I will have to give this child lessons in etiquette while she¡¯s here, Flint. I can¡¯t have her embarrassing both our households while under my charge.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about?!¡±


    Both adults looked at her. Flint with a flinch and the haughty woman with a raised eyebrow.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    Em whipped her eyes to Flint.


    ¡°What does she mean ¡®while I¡¯m here¡¯?¡±


    ¡°You mean the child doesn¡¯t know?¡±


    Now both females were glaring at Flint. Who avoided their gazes.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t have time to tell her.¡±


    ¡°You were on the road for three weeks and didn¡¯t have time to tell her?¡± was the lady¡¯s icy reply.


    ¡°Tell me what?¡±


    Flint sighed. Then stepped closer to Em so he could put a hand on her shoulder.


    ¡°We no longer have the barony house to use while we¡¯re here. That means, me and the knights will have to stay at the palace in the guest barracks.¡±


    ¡°Which is an inappropriate place for a young lady,¡± Lady Eileen interrupted with a sniff. ¡°It would ruin the Grimshaw reputation. So my dear nephew asked me for a favor.¡±


    Em felt like the floor fell out from under her.


    The last thing she wanted was to stay with this horrible person!


    She turned pleading eyes on Flint, who looked away.


    ¡°No one else had room for you.¡±


    It hit like a blow to the stomach.


    Out of all her parents¡¯ friends, of all the people Flint must¡¯ve known in the Capital, only this woman was willing to take her? Her throat constricted.


    Am I that much of a burden to them?


    And the townhouse being gone¡­ that¡¯s my fault, too.


    All other protests died on her tongue as the weight of it all settled heavily on her.


    ¡°Okay,¡± she whispered. Resigned.


    Flint smiled painfully and kept a hand on Em¡¯s shoulder as he turned to Eileen. Squeezing gently in reassurance.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be checking on her between my duties.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve brought some funds. It isn¡¯t much, but she needs a new dress or two for the events.¡±


    Eileen¡¯s face twitched. But she managed not to scowl, smiling with false brightness instead.


    ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll take care of everything.¡±


    ¡°And-¡±


    ¡°I know how to take care of a child, Flint. And the maid is staying, is she not? I¡¯m sure she knows the child¡¯s needs, yes?¡±


    Flint hesitated. With a sigh, he nodded.


    ¡°Adele, please escort Lady Emmaline and her maid to their rooms. Make sure the young lady gets a bath and send her back down for supper.¡±


    ¡°Yes, my lady.¡±


    The maid bowed to Lady Eileen. Then waved for Em and Tracy to follow her.


    Em hesitated at the door. Then abruptly rushed back in and threw her arms around Flint. Burying her face in his diaphragm.


    ¡°Only for a month? Then we can go home?¡±


    He smiled. Actually smiled! Stunning his aunt into silence as he stroked Em¡¯s head with one hand and hugged her with the other.


    ¡°I promise. Not one day longer than we have to be here.¡±


    ***


    Em was still gawking at the piles of dresses carefully stacked around the room. Maids had been coming in and out for a while now, filling the guest room like it was a boutique¡¯s storage room.


    ¡°What is all this?¡±


    Bewildered, she turned to Lady Eileen. Who was watching the proceedings with her arms crossed and tapping one elbow.


    Scowling.


    Em had been determined to say as little to the woman as she could. For the three days since Flint had left, she¡¯d done everything she could to be as polite as possible. And to follow instructions since, after all, Aunt Eileen knew best how to survive a social world. A setting Em barely remembered existed.


    But last night!


    Em had eaten almost no dinner because of the woman¡¯s constant pestering.


    Use this fork, now that spoon, sit up straight, if you¡¯re going to talk at all, by the gods, enunciate!


    If she didn¡¯t vow as much silence as possible, she was afraid she might lose her temper. And if she lost her temper, she might say something to disgrace Flint.


    Hello?, Em thought. Annoyed. Did you vow not to listen at the same time I vowed not to talk?


    Em crossed her arms and pressed her lips together. All the while watching hills of clothes turn into mountains.


    Finally, one maid bowed to Lady Eileen.


    ¡°That¡¯s all of it, my lady.¡±


    ¡°Good. We¡¯ll start with this pile.¡±


    Eileen pointed and obediently the maids each picked up a single garment each. Holding them for inspection.


    ¡°This one.¡±


    Eileen pointed and the maid stepped forward.


    The dress was the ugliest green and dull yellow Em had ever seen. Her mouth was already hanging open before the dress was held up in front of her.


    ¡°Yes, have the child try it on.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not wearing that!¡±


    Em shoved it away and glared at the old woman. Who glared right back, eyes narrowing dangerously. Em did not miss it when the maids hastily took a few steps back, bowing in visual submission.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± The woman¡¯s tone was as icy as ever.


    Em crossed her arms and raised her chin.


    ¡°I can choose my own clothes, thank you.¡±


    ¡°While you are in my house, I will approve all your clothing. I can¡¯t have you traipsing around in the undignified way you are obviously accustomed to. And I can¡¯t have you embarrassing our households with your clothing choices.¡±


    She gave Em¡¯s now too small black dress a sniff.


    Em¡¯s face reddened, though she wasn¡¯t sure if it was anger or embarrassment.


    Then she almost laughed when she pictured the woman¡¯s face if she ever saw Em in her boys¡¯ clothes.


    ¡°Look,¡± said Em patiently. ¡°There are dresses that look like someone puked it up and dresses that are decent. You can still approve, but I get to choose. I mean, it¡¯s not like there aren¡¯t a thousand options here.¡±

 Ep. 44 - Dress Dilemma

    The woman pursed her lips.


    ¡°You sound older than you should.¡±


    Em rolled her eyes.


    ¡°I help Flint with his work. Of course I sound older, I have to boss people around.¡±


    That was a bit of a stretch. She did the accounting and peeked at his paperwork (for lack of books to give her insight into the world). And of course, she didn¡¯t have any authority to boss anyone.


    Not even Tracy, whose job was to take care of her, not spoil her.


    But Eileen didn¡¯t need to know the details.


    And Em was confident that Flint would lie on Em¡¯s behalf, rather than let the old woman pry into what wasn¡¯t her business.


    To distract Eileen, Em picked up a dress. It was plain pink and dark gray, but had few frills and was a similar style to the ugly green and yellow.


    ¡°Would this do? Would I bring dishonor to our households wearing this?¡±


    There was a tense silence.


    Em could see Eileen wanting to say no simply to solidify her superior position. But she had a more important task to accomplish.


    Honor to the households.


    ¡°Fine. You may choose your clothes, but I get the final say. Do you understand?¡±


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Eileen waved to the maids. ¡°Proceed.¡±


    As Em picked dresses and discarded others, anxiety grew in her stomach.


    There were a lot of dresses.


    In her mind, she kept seeing the accounting books. The newest ones with the most updated numbers were so bleak, they¡¯d barely scraped by when coming to the capital. Any more expensive, they might¡¯ve had to be late on someone¡¯s pay or, worse, let people go.


    Finally, she couldn¡¯t take it anymore. She had to know.


    ¡°Where did all these come from? Didn¡¯t Flint say he doesn¡¯t have much?¡±


    The old woman harrumphed.


    ¡°The day you arrived I discreetly asked a few of my acquaintances for their daughters¡¯ castoffs. Don¡¯t worry, my friends know to be silent on the matter. But I won¡¯t be able to hide that these are all a season or two out of fashion.¡±


    Relief flooded Em.


    ¡°So, they didn¡¯t cost anything?¡±


    Eileen pressed her lips together. Thoroughly irked by the situation.


    ¡°Flint intended on one or two dresses. Wearing only one dress to every event will put his disgraceful circumstances on display. This will help disguise the fact. But know that no one will miss it, they will just be more tactful should it come up.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    Eileen sighed.


    ¡°You must be more attentive to your etiquette. If your etiquette is perfect, then it will make you even more untouchable.¡±


    She shot Em a sly look that Em missed as she picked dresses from the next set of options.


    ¡°And if you are untouchable, so will be your brother.¡±


    Em stiffened.


    ¡°Will people be mean to Flint if I¡¯m not good?¡±


    Eileen tutted and tapped her fingers more rapidly on her elbow.


    ¡°Not to his face. Not unless they are comfortable with their superior or equal position to him. But they will disrespect him behind his back and make business dealings more difficult.¡±


    Em¡¯s face paled and for a moment she forgot about picking dresses.


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    This time the word came out as weak as the feeling in her legs.


    This was a big deal.


    If they couldn¡¯t strengthen their business dealings, then the March will suffer even more. And Flint, who was not a businessman to begin with, will have to work harder to compensate. And if they continued to suffer, then they might have to let knights go¡­ and with the monsters and rebels always a threat¡­


    ¡°I¡¯ll work harder,¡± she promised weakly.


    Stomach hurting with sudden stress.


    They didn¡¯t always agree on the style or coloring, but by the time they were done with the prolonged and exhausting business, there was a decent pile leftover. Ready to be adjusted to Em¡¯s figure.


    ¡°Store the rest,¡± said Lady Eileen to the maids. ¡°In case we need them later.¡±


    A month. It¡¯s only for a month. How many times a day does she expect me to change?


    There were enough dresses in the ¡®approved¡¯ pile Em was fairly certain she could change twice a day all month.


    Em had her arms crossed as she surveyed the pile. Then looked at Eileen with concern.


    ¡°Don¡¯t I need two ball gowns?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    Eileen had been giving the rest of her instructions to the maids and stopped paying attention to Em. She shot Em a look.


    ¡°Two ball gowns. One for the opening ball and one for the wedding. Don¡¯t I need two? If I can¡¯t wear the same one twice?¡±


    Even the single ball gown they had wasn¡¯t to Em¡¯s taste. Too many bows and the color was close to the puke green. She surmised it must¡¯ve come from the same donor.


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    With a frown, Eileen also looked the pile over. Then harrumphed in annoyance and rubbed her forehead.


    ¡°I suppose I¡¯ll have to use your brother¡¯s funds after all,¡± she said grimly. ¡°It¡¯ll be difficult this close to the wedding¡­ If only there were more events a child needs a ball gown, then I¡¯m sure they would¡¯ve sent more options¡­¡±


    Em pressed her lips together and didn¡¯t answer the woman¡¯s mutterings.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see to it.¡± Abruptly, Eileen stepped over and pulled a dress from the pile. ¡°Adjust this one and the ball gown first. We¡¯ll need the gown by tomorrow night and the first of our social engagements is two days after.¡±


    ¡°Social engagements?¡±


    ¡°Yes, social engagements. You received seventy-two invitations thus far and I¡¯ve chosen thirty of the best ones for us to attend.¡±


    ¡°Wait, thirty?! Some of those will have to be two a day!¡±


    ¡°Is there a problem?¡±


    ¡°Why do I have to go to so many parties?!¡±


    ¡°Because you¡¯re a Grimshaw. Since your brother will be busy attending to the Crown Prince as a bachelor attendant, you must be the representative of your family. Otherwise I would¡¯ve used your age as an excuse to keep your poor manners hidden away.¡±


    Em opened and closed her mouth.


    Oh, gods! Have mercy!


    Feeling like she was going to be sick, she sat down in a newly opened space on the sofa and stared at the old woman.


    ¡°At least you can not sound like a child when you choose to. That will help.¡± The old woman pulled a pocket watch out of her sash and scowled at it. ¡°I have a meeting in a half hour. When I¡¯m done, we¡¯ll begin more lessons.¡±


    Em had no words. Dumbly, she watched the old woman sweep from the room. And still didn¡¯t move as she dully watched the maids clean up.


    When it was just her and Tracy, she dropped her head into her hands. Groaning.


    Tracy, in her new uniform (to match her to the rest of Eileen¡¯s staff), knelt in front of Em. Patting the child¡¯s head soothingly.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be alright, miss.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s only for a month.¡±


    ¡°Yes, miss.¡±


    ¡°Then I can go home and play ball again.¡±


    Tracy bit back a smile. She was getting used to this wilder (and happier) Emmaline. And would never admit she was looking forward to her ¡®playing¡¯ again, too.


    ¡°Yes, miss.¡±


    ***


    ¡°Marquis Flint Grimshaw, Lady Emmaline Grimshaw, Baroness Eileen Raynish!¡±


    Em held Flint¡¯s hand tightly as they stepped into the ballroom together. Wincing as a crier announced their names in shouts behind them.


    Why did the nobility do that?


    Did they really want to stand out that much?


    She wished Loki was there. Eileen had warned her that Flint wouldn¡¯t be able to stay with her all night. And she really didn¡¯t want Eileen¡¯s attention on her the whole time.


    At least if Loki was there, he might¡¯ve pulled pranks that would make people forget when she messed up.


    Because she was certain she¡¯d mess up.


    She didn¡¯t realize what a death grip she had on Flint¡¯s hand until he squeezed back. Sheepishly, stomach churning, she loosened her fingers.


    Flint leaned over. ¡°It¡¯ll be alright, Em. Don¡¯t be nervous.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s so many people,¡± she whispered back.


    ¡°They¡¯re all too much concerned about what everyone thinks of them to pay you much mind.¡±


    Em snorted.


    ¡°Maybe in normal circumstances. But passing judgement is what everyone is here to do.¡±


    Flint¡¯s laughter snorted out of him so suddenly he had no time to suppress it. He controlled the laugh and replied in an even softer whisper.


    ¡°Perhaps. But remember, they all came knowing that and are thus still more concerned about their own showing. As long as you don¡¯t draw attention to yourself, your clothes may be remembered, but you will be forgotten among many others who didn¡¯t rise superior.¡±


    He smiled reassuringly.


    She loved that he only smiled for her. And that it seemed to be getting easier for him.


    However, she wasn¡¯t convinced he was right. This was, after all, the man who planned to wear his best uniform to every event. (Much to Eileen¡¯s horror. Though Em thought it was a good strategy since uniforms were supposed to be the same.)


    Still, she appreciated the reassurance.


    Even if she failed in every way, she knew she¡¯d walk away with Flint still on her side.


    That eased the tension in her stomach, and she squeezed his hand again.


    The siblings stayed together for a good forty-five minutes, observing the growing crowd and the mingling happening around them. Eileen wandered off. Promising to return when it was time to make their introductions.


    ¡°They seem happy,¡± Em observed.


    Flint grunted.


    ¡°Will you dance with me later?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    Em smiled and unconsciously swung their clasped hands. Humming to herself and wishing the orchestra was playing now instead of after supper.


    Finally, almost an hour after they arrived, trumpets blasted at the back of the ballroom and everyone instantly fell silent.


    Two people gracefully flowed through the back doorways.


    Most of the onlookers reverently held still to watch. But a few, like Lady Eileen, hastily returned to their parties in the stillness.


    ¡°Announcing His Highness, Crown Prince Thiago Cyrin, the Young Sun of the Cyrin Empire! And announcing Her Highness, Lady Madeline Dulce, the future Crown Princess and Lily Moon of the Cyrin Empire!¡±


    Nobles politely clapped as the couple bowed or curtsied to them in greeting. Then they sat down on the small thrones placed before the empty Emperor¡¯s throne on the dais.


    Then, like a huge orchestrated dance in which everyone innately knew their place, people filed forward. Making room for the ones in front and finding their places behind.


    Em squeezed Flint¡¯s hand as she followed his lead into the line. Close to the front.


    The Dukes, their wives and older children, as well as any ¡®approved¡¯ relatives, greeted the royal couple first.


    It was usually just silent bows or curtsies before hurrying off to let the next people in line step forward.


    This is going to take hours, Em realized with horror.


    Suddenly she was very, very glad she was with Flint. And that Flint was no longer just a baron but a Marquis.


    It meant they were right behind the Dukes. The last the marquises, but still nearer to the front of the line than not.


    ¡°Why do they do this?¡± she whispered to Flint.


    Eileen gave her a glare. For daring to talk during this solemn time. She ignored the lady, since she heard whispers all over the hall. No one was going to pay attention to a bored little girl in line.


    ¡°This ball not only starts the wedding festivities but also the social season,¡± he muttered back. Also ignoring Eileen. ¡°This is the customary opening of the season.¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s just tradition? There¡¯s no value in it?¡±


    Flint¡¯s smile was grim. ¡°It establishes the social standing of everyone present.¡±


    Em stared at her brother as he straightened up. For someone who pretended not to pay attention to social niceties, he had a good grasp on the customs of the court. She glanced at the irritated Eileen.


    Maybe he had to sit through Eileen¡¯s etiquette lessons as well.


    Finally, it was their turn.


    Em swept into a curtsy as they were once again announced for the benefit of the royal couple. As they stood up from their respective greetings, the Crown Prince actually beamed and stood up.


    She slipped her hand back into Flint¡¯s. And could feel his tension through his grip when Thiago came down the steps and clapped a hand on Flint¡¯s arm.


    ¡°Flint, my old friend. Welcome! How are you enjoying the party?¡±

 Ep. 45 - Too Many People

    ¡°It is only begun, your highness.¡±


    ¡°Indeed. Your garb tonight will have the ladies swooning in romantic fantasies of your exploits.¡±


    Em frowned.


    Did the prince just intentionally draw attention to Flint¡¯s attire as an insult? No, surely not. It would make more sense if it were closer to the end of the season, when everyone had seen Flint wear the same thing over and over.


    Unless¡­ he wanted everyone to notice right away what Flint was wearing every time?


    No. Surely not.


    But that¡¯s what was going to happen, she realized with dismay.


    The Prince continued to chat some more nonsense, not at all bothered by Flint¡¯s grunts and clipped replies.


    Then he slapped Flint¡¯s shoulder again and waved at the space behind the small thrones. Where a few other men had already gathered and were whispering together.


    ¡°You may join my entourage now. Enjoy the rest of the party!¡±


    Reluctantly, Em let go of Flint¡¯s hand and let Eileen usher her away from the line. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched Flint stiffly join the other men behind the thrones.


    It took another hour and a half for every noble family to greet the Crown Prince and Princess. But, finally, that part of the evening was over and everyone returned to chatting in small groups until supper was announced a half hour later.


    By then, Em was exhausted.


    It wasn¡¯t even seven yet, and she wanted to find a place to hide.


    Eileen pulled her from group to group. Introducing Em and then promptly forgot she was there as she got to know the people in the groups.


    After the third time of this happening, it dawned on Em what Eileen was doing. And it wouldn¡¯t have occurred to her if she didn¡¯t notice that everyone was addressing each other at least once by title.


    Eileen Raynish was a baroness. Not a Marchioness. They must¡¯ve announced it both at the door and when they greeted the royal couple. How had Em missed it?


    I¡¯m her passport, Em thought. Half amused, half exasperated.


    Eileen was chatting with people she ordinarily would never have been able to talk to on her own. Even though her wealth and manners made her stand out as one of the most fashionable women in the room.


    Em glared at Eileen¡¯s ear.


    All this talk about the honor of their families, and she treated Flint like he was a pesky nephew. Someone she could get away with giving only passing politeness to, rather than a superior.


    I¡¯ll ask Loki to do something to her, she thought grimly. Maybe hide her left shoes. Or tie her hair to the bedpost. No, the servants would be the ones who¡¯d get in trouble¡­


    She entertained herself with visions and ideas of what pranks they could pull. Looking for the perfect one that wouldn¡¯t get anyone in trouble.


    They were called to the banquet soon after.


    Where Flint had to sit at the head table with the others.


    Em watched him glumly. Wishing she could sneak up there and hide under the tablecloth. Just so she didn¡¯t have to sit with Eileen, who¡¯d secured them a spot close to the front on Em¡¯s social status.


    Em would¡¯ve preferred to sit with the barons.


    When she was full, she leaned over.


    ¡°Lady Eileen,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Yes, dear?¡±


    Em cringed at the false sweetness.


    ¡°I need to use the powder room.¡±


    Eileen¡¯s face momentarily blanked. Then she laughed awkwardly and waved over a harried looking maid.


    Gratefully, Em escaped the bustle of the too full banquet room.


    There were too many nobles. And she was fairly certain, from comments her mother used to make before she died, that the attendees of the social season weren¡¯t usually this many.


    It¡¯s because of the stupid wedding.


    Even a Marquis could get out of a normal social season if his work was pressing enough. However, a royal wedding was important enough that everyone had to attend at least one of the major events.


    And the more they attended, the higher their importance.


    After tonight, most of the lower barons and viscounts would be returning to their homes. Relieved that they were not required to attend the actual wedding, which would be mostly by special invitation, anyway.


    Or annoyed not to attend.


    Depending on their level of ambition.


    ¡°I can find my way back,¡± Em assured the maid.


    The maid hesitated. Not wanting to leave one of the youngest guests unattended. But the night wasn''t even half over and she had a thousand other tasks to perform¡­


    ¡°If you get lost, miss, just ask any of the servants. They''ll direct you back.¡±


    ¡°I will. And thank you.¡±


    The maid looked startled as she bowed.


    It was only after Em firmly closed the door that it occurred to her most nobles probably didn''t thank these maids for anything.


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    Oh, well.


    She wasn''t most nobles.


    She took her time. Taking care of her business quickly then loitering as long as she dared. When she finally left the bathroom, she found that most people had migrated back to the ballroom.


    From the corridor doorway, she silently watched as even more people filtered that direction.


    She really didn''t want to join them.


    And not seeing either Eileen or Flint, she quietly backed up.


    Most of one wall of the corridor bordered the banquet hall and ballroom. But the other side was a series of rooms. Many were powder rooms, but there were also sitting rooms.


    She could hear people in most of these rooms as she passed them.


    Most doors had been left open. But there were a few closed doors. Curiously, she put her ear to one of them. After a couple of seconds, she jerked her head back. Wide-eyed.


    There was definitely sounds in there but¡­ Good gracious!


    She gaped at the door. Momentarily stunned by what she was almost certain she heard. Then she backed away slowly. As though the door might come off it¡¯s hinges and attack her.


    She didn¡¯t want to know if the other closed doors hid business or¡­ pleasure.


    Then she spotted the outside door.


    The ballroom had half a dozen doors leading onto the gardens. This corridor had only one, and next to it was a small set of doors leading into the ballroom.


    For a second, she stood in the doorway to the ballroom. Watching the dancers and the talkers. Eventually, she¡¯ll go in and find Flint for her dance. But she didn¡¯t see him anywhere.


    Where did he go?


    Frowning, she tapped her foot and crossed her arms. Thinking.


    This entrance to the garden was a force that seemed to beckon her. Promising her a reprieve from all the people she didn¡¯t want to talk to. And all the people Lady Eileen wanted to ¡®introduce her¡¯ to.


    She inched her way closer to the garden door. Then paused.


    For a moment, she thought she saw a familiar face.


    But the woman danced past so fast, Em barely got a glimpse.


    Something about that face made Em frown and lean her body into the room. Trying to spot her again and get a better look.


    Though Em watched, she never saw her again.


    More importantly, she finally spotted Eileen. And for now, decided it was more prudent to escape outside. If she wanted a longer break.


    It was dark out. And the breeze hinted that the mild autumn and winter months were coming.


    Em left the small patio and aimlessly wandered the garden paths. Steering clear of places where she was pretty sure couples were, uh, coupling. Or at least passionately kissing if they weren''t that brazen.


    Funny how it wasn''t so disturbing when she used to read about such things.


    She laughed at herself and ducked behind a bush to avoid someone on the path.


    The man was alone. And seemed¡­ not nervous, but not at ease, either.


    Em meant to just let him pass. But she noticed someone else coming up the bend in the path and crouched further to avoid the second person''s notice.


    A rendezvous.


    She hoped they took their business further into the gardens. The idea she might get stuck there made her sick.


    If it came to that, she''d rather jump up and embarrass them by leaving in a hurry than see anything.


    ¡°Madeline?¡±


    Em froze.


    ¡°Shh, you shouldn''t speak to me so informally. What if someone hears?¡±


    ¡°Isn''t that why we''re meeting here? So no one hears?¡±


    ¡°We''re meeting here because no one will believe we''re meeting for romance,¡± was the dry reply. ¡°Come. There''s a gazebo just over there.¡±


    Em hesitated.


    A private meeting between the engaged future Crown Princess and¡­ who? Who was someone even Thiago wouldn''t believe was a romantic rival?


    Curious, Em was following the couple before she realized what she was doing.


    At the gazebo, the pair sat at a table and began whispering together.


    ¡°... Keeping an eye¡­ finally cooperating¡­¡±


    ¡°How is¡­?¡±


    ¡°... Smoothly¡­¡±


    Em frowned and cautiously crawled closer. If she''d been any bigger, the ground cover wouldn''t have hid her. As it was, she was struggling to move in her dress without making any sounds. Several times the bows snagged on things, but they came free with easy tugs so she thought little of it.


    ¡°And the mines?¡±


    ¡°The new deposits were just as rich as predicted. Duke Caviet is turning a blind eye, so that, too, is running smoothly.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±


    A torch suddenly lit and Em froze.


    Neither Madeline nor the man was looking her way, so she abandoned her crouch and dropped onto her stomach. Madeline was looking toward the brightly lit windows of the ballroom while her companion watched her.


    ¡°Your highness?¡±


    ¡°Have you ever wanted to be someone else, Gerald?¡±


    Pause.


    ¡°Don''t answer that.¡° Madeline turned away from the ballroom and Em could see her face. It was pale and tired. ¡°Someone has seen us by now and will tell the prince. You can go now.¡±


    The man hesitated. His face etched with worry. With a sigh, he nodded.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Gerald grasped her hand, kissed it, then walked away.


    As soon as he was out of sight, Madeline abruptly staggered. Alarmed, Em halfway sat up. Her instinct to run over and¡­ what? Get smoothed under the weight of a grown woman?


    She was glad she was just a smidge slower, because someone else had also noticed Madeline¡¯s condition.


    A shadow darted from the taller foliage.


    He caught Madeline before she lost her grip on the gazebo pole. But even the big man wasn''t prepared to take her weight and was off balance with his grip. He landed hard on one knee while Madeline collapsed completely.


    Meanwhile, Em gaped.


    She recognized him.


    What was he doing here?!


    ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    Madeline also gaped in bewilderment at her rescuer. And was only two seconds slow before realizing the danger. With a weak wave of her hand, she snuffed out the torchlight.


    ¡°I¡­ was looking for Emmaline,¡± was the awkward reply in the darkness.


    ¡°Emmaline?¡±


    ¡°She escaped my aunt and someone saw her come to the garden.¡±


    ¡°But¡­ Thiago will notice¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes, I can''t be gone long. Have you seen her?¡±


    Em found the conversation ridiculous. Considering Madeline had almost fainted and Flint was still holding her.


    Neither adult seemed to notice the incriminating position.


    Madeline smiled wanly. Relaxing more into Flint¡¯s grip.


    ¡°No, I haven¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Ah. I should probably keep looking. Do you need me to call a servant? No, wait. You¡¯ll just say no. I¡¯ll send you one, anyway.¡±


    Madeline laughed. And neither moved as her laugh abruptly choked into a sob. She leaned her forehead into Flint¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t fair.¡±


    Em was almost not close enough to hear the choked whisper. Flint didn¡¯t answer.


    ¡°Commander?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°If I weren¡¯t Madeline Dulce, fiancee of the honorable Crown Prince¡­ if I weren¡¯t someone who could get you killed just by being alone with me¡­ would you kiss me?¡±

 Ep. 46 - Fading Response

    Flint went so still he could¡¯ve been a statue. No, the shadow of a statue. Faded into the background and gone with the disappearance of sunshine.


    Like his existence.


    But, Flint wasn¡¯t someone who simply faded away just because the world was moving at its own pace around him.


    Em watched in fascination as he wrapped a hand around the back of Madeline¡¯s head. Kissing the Crown Princess of Cyrin firmly. Tears sparkled down Madeline¡¯s cheeks as she returned the kiss, holding his shirt with desperation.


    When it was over, he pressed his forehead to her¡¯s.


    ¡°Whatever that bastard is, I won¡¯t sully your honor. But if there¡¯s anything else you ever need from me, you need only to ask.¡±


    Madeline¡¯s eyes were closed as she nodded wordlessly.


    Flint finally stood, leaving Madeline to sit alone and forlorn on the gazebo step. Occasionally choking on a sob.


    Em only had to wait a few minutes before a servant hurriedly retrieved the sickly princess. Then she was free to return to the ballroom.


    Utterly perturbed.


    Had Madeline Dulce always been in love with Flint Grimshaw? In ¡°The Lost Prince¡±, Madeline had seemed like a love-struck teenage desperate for Thiago¡¯s love. Which had disgusted Maddie to no end. Especially when Thiago betrayed the woman, and she still pleaded for his love to her last breath.


    But, then again, everything had been painted from Thiago¡¯s viewpoint.


    And Thiago was sure the world was shaped for his existence.


    Maybe the original Madeline only begged for Thiago¡¯s love because, originally, Flint had died early in the story.


    That made sense.


    Broken-hearted, Madeline had clung to the only thing left to her. The man who eventually gave her children¡­ and didn¡¯t live to see him take them away.


    Em¡¯s heart throbbed painfully.


    She felt so helpless. What was the point of understanding all of this when she could do nothing about it?


    She¡¯d barely stepped into the ballroom when Lady Eileen spotted her. With such a look of horror, Em looked down at herself. Just to make sure she hadn¡¯t been stabbed or something.


    Only to realize why Eileen looked like fainting.


    Her dress was covered in dirt, and two bows dangled cheerfully from ragged threads.


    Oh, no.


    ***


    Loki howled with laughter.


    ¡°It¡¯s not funny!¡±


    Em groaned and covered her face. It had been a long, embarrassing night.


    Most noble ladies bring a backup dress, Em found out. But not Em, who could barely scrape together one. Seemed about right. What ended up happening was Aunt Eileen rushed her into a side room and tried to clean off the worst of it.


    The bows came off alright. But the dirt¡­


    Eileen was not happy about leaving early and Em had to endure lectures until her ears felt like bleeding.


    Still¡­ Em wasn¡¯t unhappy about having to leave hours earlier than anyone else.


    ¡°The problem is, is this makes Flint look bad.¡± She lay on her bed, stomach down and kicking her legs as she talked to Loki. Who was sitting on her pillow. ¡°And I didn¡¯t get to dance with him.¡±


    Her shoulders drooped.


    Loki was still shaking with laughter, but he had the decency to reach out a shapeless slime arm and pat her shoulder.


    ¡°Poor Em.¡±


    With that, he snorted several times on suppressed laughter and had to turn away quickly.


    Em rolled her eyes and put down her head.


    ¡°Stop it! It¡¯s not funny!¡±


    ¡°My dear human child, if you can¡¯t laugh at your mistakes, then you¡¯ll become as tight as a screw.¡±


    ¡°Screws hold things together. That¡¯s not a bad thing.¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s what you need to do. But if what you need is flexibility, then all you¡¯ll do is break yourself.¡±


    Em made a face into the bed but didn¡¯t argue. When she made a mistake and totally embarrassed herself, she needed flexibility to bounce back.


    At least Em and Emmaline were both mature enough to accept that.


    With a sigh, she sat up.


    ¡°That¡¯s not the only thing that happened.¡±


    While she told Loki about the forbidden kiss, the sky outside flashed. Followed a few beats later by the rumble of lightning.


    ¡°I just wish I could do something for them,¡± she said. Pulling her legs up and leaning on them. She sighed in frustration. ¡°It isn¡¯t fair!¡±


    ¡°Why can¡¯t you do something?¡±


    Em glared at him like he was an idiot.


    ¡°I¡¯m being serious, child. Why can¡¯t you do anything for them? You¡¯re smart, you know things you shouldn¡¯t, and you¡¯re technically partially an adult.¡±


    ¡°Here, I¡¯m firmly a child.¡± She held up a finger and continued to hold them up as she talked. ¡°I have no money, no influence, and no connections at all. What I know is practically useless to me, except to stay out of the way. And one thing I know is Thiago is practically a god unless the right person faces him.¡±


    ¡°All gods have weaknesses.¡±


    ¡°But not ones that will stop or kill him.¡±


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    ¡°Whoever said you had to do that? Can¡¯t you just throw some mountains in his way?¡±


    ¡°And now we¡¯re back at the fact that I have no resources. Not even you! You¡¯re a god and the best you can do is trip him. And even then it can¡¯t be down the stairs.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right. I cannot directly harm anyone. It''s against my nature and the laws of the gods. And what little I can do is limited. But, child, you¡¯re looking at this wrong.¡±


    Em snorted. ¡°Really? How so?¡±


    ¡°You keep asking yourself why you can¡¯t. You¡¯ll always find answers to the questions you ask, so start asking what you can do. What is Emmaline Grimshaw in a unique position to do? What is going on that might be helpful? Eventually, if not right away?¡±


    Em bit her lip. It was a stupid game, but what else did she have?


    ¡°Fine. Um.¡± She looked up at the ceiling. Lightning lit it up briefly. ¡°I guess something that might help is Prince Asher is alive. At least when I was dreaming about him I could heal him.¡±


    That made her even more depressed. Her one loophole was gone.


    ¡°But we don¡¯t even know if he¡¯s the one who can stand against Thiago.¡±


    Loki snorted.


    ¡°You were brought back here by a goddess and had a connection to the boy. Do you really doubt he''s the one?¡±


    Em hesitated.


    ¡°No. I don''t.¡±


    ¡°Good. What else?¡±


    ¡°¡­And I guess it''s also a good thing that Thiago doesn¡¯t know who he¡¯s looking for. Or where to look.¡±


    ¡°Very well. That¡¯s two things in our favor. What else?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know! Argh!¡±


    Em flopped backward, staring up at the ceiling with tears in her eyes.


    Loki squirmed up to pat her head.


    ¡°Sometimes the things we need most are what we are most blind to. Go to sleep, human child. Perhaps the answer will come by tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re the god of mischief?¡± asked Em dryly.


    ¡°That is what humans have called me. Now, no more talking. Bed.¡±


    As Em curled up to sleep, she thought about the conversation.


    Why Em?


    Why had the goddess put so much effort to bring Em here?


    What did Em have that could possibly help?


    As though to prove his status as a god of mischief, the next morning at breakfast Aunt Eileen tore off her third pair of gloves for the day. Flinging them at her maid.


    Big, brown spots had appeared in the middle of the back of her hands. Where neither she nor anyone else had touched. Nor had she touched the gloves to anything.


    The best part was there was no one to blame. Because Eileen made absolutely certain that pair (and the second pair) both were completely white when she put them on.


    Not that she didn¡¯t try blaming her poor maid. Em calmly pointed out the problems with it, earning herself a death glare.


    Lady Eileen decided to forego gloves for the day. Since they weren¡¯t going out.


    Em had little time to think about her dilemma because Eileen started etiquette lessons almost as soon as the child woke up. Literally. She read to Em as she bathed and dressed, made Em balance a book on her head as she walked to breakfast, and grilled her on what utensils to use with which part of the meals.


    It was as though Eileen was determined to smash five years worth of lessons into Em¡¯s head within two days.


    Partly it made sense. Because the first of their daily engagements would start with the royal hunting party.


    And partly it made little sense, because Em spent most of that time controlling her rising temper and frustration rather than learning.


    It was with despair that she got ready for the hunting party three mornings after the ball.


    At least the dress was halfway decent. She could move and breathe in it, though she longed for pants. And, because they were outside, Lady Eileen had switched it for something that would mostly hide dirt.


    Fortunately, it was fairly easy to adjust the new dress, otherwise the poor maid in charge of all the adjustments wouldn¡¯t have made it.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± she asked Loki glumly.


    Glad that Tracy had to leave for a moment so she could talk to him.


    ¡°About what?¡±


    ¡°Do I look alright? Will I make things worse for Flint?¡±


    The slime¡¯s body rippled as he laughed but didn¡¯t bother answering.


    ¡°I wish you could come with me,¡± she said. Even more glum.


    ¡°What makes you think I can¡¯t?¡±


    With that, she perked up. ¡°Can you?! But I can¡¯t bring a slime to the party.¡±


    He scoffed.


    ¡°Have you forgotten I have no form? What makes you think I¡¯m limited to being a slime?¡±


    She blinked at him, mouth hanging open. To which he laughed.


    Why hadn¡¯t she thought of that?!


    ¡°Are you trying to trap flies with your mouth, little human?¡±


    ¡°You-¡±


    There was a quiet knock to announce herself, then Tracy opened the door.


    ¡°It¡¯s time to go, miss.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll see you there,¡± Loki called cheerfully. Waving an arm as Tracy ushered Em out the door.


    Eileen resumed her nagging as soon as they were in the carriage.


    ¡°Tuck your feet in when you sit. Hold your hands like this. Yes, that¡¯s it. And when you get into more friendly conversation, remember to tell no one to call you ¡®Em¡¯.¡±


    Em frowned and lost her position, leaning forward.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Your parents had the good sense to give you a dignified name. You should use it.¡± The woman folded her arms and glared at Em. As though her eyes alone could pound into Em what she was saying. ¡°Shortening your name to ¡®Em¡¯ makes you sound like you¡¯re a scullery maid. What was your brother thinking?! Not thinking, that¡¯s what it was.¡±


    Em pressed her lips together.


    ¡°I asked him to call me Em.¡±


    ¡°Even worse. Giving in to the immature demands of a child.¡±


    If Em didn¡¯t clench her jaw, she knew she¡¯d scream. Promising nothing, she sat back, rearranged her hands and feet once again, and simmered until her jaw ached. All while listening to Eileen¡¯s instructions.


    It was only for a few more weeks.


    Someone, a lot of someones, had spent many hours preparing for this party.


    Em looked around at the gatherings of canopies, tables, chairs, and portable kitchens hidden behind flaps and frequented by servants.


    And rugs.


    She stared at the rugs spread out under the canopies.


    What was the point of picnicking outside if you¡¯re just going to noble-proof everything? You might as well stay inside for that.


    Em shook her head and watched for a chance to escape. But Eileen must¡¯ve been paranoid of her doing just that, because the old woman kept a hand on Em¡¯s shoulder. Steering the little girl this way and that, from group to group.


    They were one of the earliest ones to arrive, so the pickings were slimmer than at the ball.


    And even when more nobles trickled in, Em noticed with relief that the numbers had dropped by at least half.


    Now, where was Loki?


    She knew when he arrived and was wandering around somewhere, when Eileen made a strangled sound under her breath. It took all of Em¡¯s self control not to burst out into hysterical giggles when the woman discretely pulled off yet another pair of gloves and shoved them into her maid¡¯s hands.


    ¡°When I find out who¡¯s doing that,¡± the old woman muttered, ¡°I¡¯m going to cut off their hands!¡±


    ¡°Perhaps you¡¯re accidentally touching your face, Aunt?¡± Em suggested innocently. ¡°That almost looks like your makeup.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t touch my face with the back of my hands. Or at all, it¡¯s not proper.¡±


    Em controlled her smile and was about to dig more, when she saw someone.


    For an instant, the first thing she remembered about the woman was her face flying past Em in the ballroom. Dancing away from Em before she could figure out why she looked familiar.


    Now, Em got a really good look. And knew exactly who she was looking at.


    Her mouth fell open.

 Ep. 47 - Lady Arnold

    ¡°Emmaline Grimshaw! Close your mouth this instant. You¡¯re not a fish.¡±


    Em did so with difficulty.


    ¡°Aunt.¡± Em touched the old woman¡¯s elbow. Only half distracting Eileen from her quest to find their next conversation victims. ¡°Who¡¯s that woman? The one with the peacock feathers in her hat?¡±


    Eileen turned with a frown. For an instant, she pressed her lips together. Maybe recognizing a fellow opportunist when she saw her.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Then who is she talking to?¡±


    ¡°That would be Count Irvan and Marquis Delco. They¡¯re cousins and related to Duke Waghorn, that man right there.¡±


    Em flinched. Waghorn. He was the man Flint would have to report to as soon as he was officially given his portion of the old lycan territory. Which included Silver Vale, Flint¡¯s March.


    Em chewed on her lip and took a step in that direction.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡±


    ¡°Duke Waghorn will be Flint¡¯s superior soon.¡± She shot Eileen a bright smile. ¡°I should greet him, don¡¯t you think? If I¡¯m supposed to be the Grimshaw representative?¡±


    Eileen blinked in surprise but then smiled.


    It was not only a socially expected thing to do, but a great opportunity for her. Particularly when the Duke¡¯s wife joined the small group as Em and Eileen approached.


    ¡°... That¡¯s what I thought! Between you and me, your grace, I much enjoy my trips into your Dukedom. His grace, Duke Caviet, may have a superior military but you have superior goods.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    The man sounded bored, but there was a gleam in his eye that Em interpreted as delight. That was good to know. The man liked to be praised and flattered, even if he pretended otherwise.


    ¡°Pardon us, your grace.¡±


    Eileen swept into a perfect curtsy.


    How does she keep her knees from giving out?


    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to intrude, but I am Baroness Eileen Raynish. My niece wished to extend her greetings.¡±


    Em also swept into a curtsy and briefly bowed her head to break eye-contact with the onlookers. Holding the curtsy as a courtesy, but raising her head again to establish eye-contact.


    And hoping she didn¡¯t look as awkward as she felt.


    ¡°I am Emmaline Grimshaw, your grace. I¡¯m here to extend greetings to his Grace, the Duke of Waghorn, from Silver Vale March.¡±


    ¡°Rise, Emmaline Grimshaw. And you, too, baroness.¡±


    The man didn¡¯t smile, but he sounded smug anyway. Of course he did. Holding the curtsy was a means of conveying their respect. Flattery without words. Em held back a smile of triumph.


    ¡°It is an honor to be greeted by the Grimshaw household. Where, pray, is the Marquis?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid my brother is with the bachelor party. I¡¯ve yet to see him or his Highness arrive,¡± Em said apologetically.


    The Duke waved a dismissive hand.


    ¡°They probably joined the early hunters. Unless they were lucky in their hunt, they won¡¯t be back until after the noon meal.¡±


    His wife leaned in and pinched Em¡¯s cheek. Em¡¯s mouth dropped in surprise by this break of etiquette.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you just a darling,¡± the woman cooed. ¡°We don¡¯t see many young ones here. How old are you, dear?¡±


    ¡°I, uh, I¡¯m eleven, your grace.¡±


    ¡°And when do you turn twelve?¡±


    ¡°I-¡± Em¡¯s mind blanked for an instant. Then her eyes widened. How had she forgotten that little detail? In all the mess going on¡­ With a shy stutter, she answered, ¡°Ne-next week, your grace.¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯re practically an adult!¡± Duchess Waghorn turned to the last woman in the group. ¡°Lady Arnold, isn¡¯t she just a little sweetheart? We should have a special tea served, to wish her a happy birthday. Wouldn¡¯t that be nice?¡±


    Lady Arnold¡¯s peacock feathers fluttered around her face as she gave the Duchess a strained smile. Her eyes darted to the two men she¡¯d been talking to before any of the other intruders came. Then fixed back on the Duchess with a bright, fake smile.


    ¡°I would love nothing better than tea with her grace and her friends.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Duchess Waghorn claimed Em¡¯s hand and tucked it into her elbow. ¡°Then the four of us shall leave the men to their boring business talk and have a bit of fun.¡±


    Eileen looked giddy with pleasure while Lady Arnold barely hid her scowl as the Duchess dragged them all away.


    Chattering about everything that crossed her mind.


    ¡°I shall send you a birthday present,¡± Duchess Waghorn announced once they reached her tent. ¡°What does a young lady like you desire?¡±


    Em hesitated.


    What she really wanted she didn¡¯t dare ask for.


    ¡°I¡¯m just honored you thought of me, your grace.¡±


    The woman snorted. She didn¡¯t notice the way Eileen flinched.


    ¡°Typically polite answer,¡± said the woman. ¡°What do you want, child? I mean, young lady?¡± She winked. ¡°A tea set? A new gown? Or-¡± She lowered her voice in a whisper. ¡°A novel?¡±


    This time both Lady Arnold and Eileen stiffened.


    Em watched her face. Then smiled as she leaned in and whispered in the woman¡¯s ear.


    Duchess Waghorn threw back her head in a peel of laughter.


    ¡°Is that so! Very well, I shall have it delivered to your residence.¡±


    Em wasn¡¯t sure she liked the Duke, but she was certain she loved the Duchess.


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    A few more people trickled in as the Duchess got the tea party started. Countess Penelope, Marchioness Elantra, and a few others. And with the additions to the party, the attention finally shifted away from Em.


    Em kept glancing at Lady Arnold. Listening intently to get clues about her.


    Unfortunately, she seemed more interested in asking questions about the bachelors within the nobility than talking about herself.


    ¡°Is that who I think it is?¡±


    Em choked on a cookie and glanced quickly at the manservant filling her teacup.


    He winked at her, earring swaying into his neck with the movement. He was way too good looking to be just a manservant, but no one seemed to notice him. Well, except the Countess. Who was eyeing him with barely contained admiration.


    He winked at the watching woman and she flushed. Looking away quickly.


    ¡°Loki?¡± Em mouthed.


    This time, he winked at Em. Like he¡¯d become one of those dolls that closed their eyes the moment they moved.


    ¡°Well, is it?¡± he whispered.


    She glanced over at the peacock feather lady, then nodded.


    ¡°What is she doing here?¡± he murmured. Stepping back, he continued his thought in her head. ¡°By the sound of it, she doesn¡¯t even have a true title. The daughter of a knighted merchant, is it? How did she get an invitation to a royal party?¡±


    Em shrugged, picking up another cookie to nibble.


    ¡°For her to have entrance into a hunting party, she¡¯ll need someone hunting for her. Do you want me to look around?¡±


    Em shot him a look over her shoulder.


    What she wanted to ask was, ¡°Can you do that without causing trouble?¡±


    But, since he¡¯d never been able to hear her thoughts outside her ghost state, she could only nod or shake her head. After a second of consideration, and watching the innocent way he arranged his features, she finally nodded.


    Whatever he did to cause trouble wouldn¡¯t be easily connected to her, she concluded.


    Uneasily.


    Loki slipped out of the tent, noticed only by the disappointed Countess Penelope.


    And never came back.


    It was another hour before the Duchess broke up the party, saying she needed to greet other people. Before she left, though, she grabbed Em¡¯s hands and squeezed them.


    ¡°If you ever need anything, dear, come see me,¡± she said seriously. Then she let go and glided away, followed closely by a Marchioness Elantra.


    Loki, where did you go?


    Eileen dragged Em off another direction. Joining a group of Countesses, their daughters, and dominated by a Marchioness.


    It was here that Em finally found an opening to escape.


    Darting around the backside of the tent, she hid in the maze of tents by dodging servants and staying out of sight of the noble men and women. Then, finding a quiet spot, she plopped down and leaned back her head with a sigh.


    It was so draining to be around so many people!


    And to pretend to smile and laugh at things she had no interest in.


    ¡°Who cares that the Count is having an affair, or that baroness acts like a buffoon?¡± she muttered.


    And where was Loki?!


    As though called by her thoughts, something touched her leg. She looked down and blankly stared at the rabbit. Which watched her with big, innocent eyes.


    ¡°Loki?¡±


    The rabbit guffawed.


    ¡°Where are you been?!¡±


    ¡°Playing.¡±


    ¡°Playing?¡±


    ¡°Yup! I have something to show you. Get up.¡±


    Not waiting for a reply, he turned and darted away. Leaving Em to scramble to her feet and take off after him.


    Servants cursed and yelped in surprise as Loki led Em into the main back stream of activity behind the tents. Darting between poles and feet. Sometimes intentionally tripping someone.


    Em called apologies as she left her own stream of havoc behind.


    Finally, they reached the place where the contest would be judged, and the banquet prepared and served.


    The banquet tables were set up in a square shape and busy kitchen tents lined one side. Beyond them, in a big field bordering the forest, there were already groups of hunters returning with their kills. Among the hunters, she spotted a head of raven black hair.


    ¡°There¡¯s Flint!¡±


    She pointed him out, and Loki chuckled.


    ¡°As though I could see him from here,¡± the god said. Before darting under the nearest banquet table, forcing Em to run to catch up again.


    ¡°There it is!¡±


    More than one hunter cried out in exasperation, and anger as Loki darted between them. And more than one pulled out weapons only to have their neighbors grab them. Reminding them they were now back, so no hunting.


    What were you doing?, Em wondered.


    Then she remembered one of his stories from before. About playing the ¡®unattainable prey¡¯ to hunters in the past.


    Em snorted on her own laughter.


    What would these men think if they knew they¡¯d been pranked by a god?


    Keeping her eyes on the ground, she made a sharp right turn when Loki suddenly did. While the god rabbit darted between someone¡¯s legs, Em tried to dodge the person. And failed. Colliding with the boy and sending them both into a jumbled heap on the ground.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry!¡±


    Em pushed herself up, intending to get off the boy immediately.


    Then froze.


    Staring into a pair of ruby red eyes.


    Red eyes. Silver hair. Strange tattoos that snaked around the side of his neck¡­


    ¡°You,¡± she breathed. Before she could stop herself.


    He wrinkled his forehead.


    ¡°Do I know you?¡±


    ¡°Of course not! What gave you that idea?¡±


    Flustered, Em scrambled to her feet and offered him a hand. Which he eyed, shook his head, and got up by himself. A brace of three dead rabbits swinging over his shoulder.


    Was he hunting?


    Once on his feet, he bowed to her. Not like a slave as he should have (resulting in practically banging his head against his knees). But more like a normal servant making a polite acknowledgement.


    So, that¡¯s how he wanted to communicate. She could play that game. Thank you, Eileen!


    ¡°I apologize for the inconvenience, miss.¡±


    Em clenched her fists.


    ¡°What are you talking about?!¡± She didn¡¯t mean to sound annoyed, but that¡¯s how she felt. She tapped her chest. ¡°I¡¯m the one who ran into you, remember?¡±


    ¡°I-¡±


    She interrupted.


    ¡°I¡¯m the one who should apologize to you.¡±


    With that, she curtsied.


    Curtsies came in three types (with their subtle variations).


    One for general respect and was more of a nod and a dip. But in which the lady broke eye contact briefly to show courtesy.


    One was for equals. In which the lady bent her knees a little more, but did not lower her head or break eye contact. It was often used to insult the other person as well, as it wasn¡¯t meant as a courtesy but to establish rank. Perceived or real rank.


    And one for royalty.


    In which the lady lowered herself a bit more than the equal¡¯s curtsy and bowed her head and shoulders forward. Completely breaking eye contact. The lady was also supposed to hold that pose until told to rise.


    But Em didn¡¯t dare hold the royal curtsy for very long. Lest onlookers realized what she¡¯d done.


    ¡°I apologize for running into you. Did I hurt you at all?¡±


    There was a brief silence as the boy watched her with a befuddled expression.


    Em didn¡¯t dare look around for signs of onlookers. Onlookers who might¡¯ve recognized her display for what it was and probably thought she was a foolish child in need of more etiquette lessons.


    ¡°No, miss, I¡¯m fine.¡±


    Fine? Maybe right now. But she doubted he was ¡®fine¡¯.


    ¡°Lady Arnold was talking about her champions. You¡¯re the only silver haired boy here, so it must be you. Right?¡±


    His expression turned guarded, and he bowed his head in acknowledgement.


    ¡°I knew it! She¡¯s a real bitch, isn¡¯t she?¡±

 Ep. 48 - Wait

    The boy opened and closed his mouth. Completely confused by her forwardness and the topic of conversation. Finally, he opted for a noncommittal but polite reply.


    ¡°I¡¯m not the best judge of that, miss. I¡¯m just here to hunt.¡±


    As though remembering what he was supposed to be doing in that moment, he took half a step away. Glancing meaningfully through the crowd of people, which was swelling by the minute as more hunters returned to the field.


    Em smiled and waved a hand.


    ¡°Sure, sure. She said she has you on borrow from a gladiator arena. Is that true? You don¡¯t look old enough to be a gladiator. Which arena?¡±


    His expression shifted.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, miss, but I need to rejoin my party. Otherwise my kills won¡¯t be counted.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s alright. I¡¯m looking for my brother. And my rabbit. I¡¯ll come with you.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s really-¡±


    ¡°My name¡¯s Emmaline. But my friends call my Em. You can call me Em, too.¡± She took a few steps toward the judges platform and paused. ¡°Aren¡¯t you coming?¡±


    Reluctantly, unsure what to do, the boy finally took a deep breath and fell into step with her as she led the way toward the platform.


    ¡°You¡¯re Gray, right?¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­¡±


    He looked like he wanted to run.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t answer my question, Gray.¡±


    ¡°Question?¡±


    She beamed at him. ¡°Which arena?¡±


    ¡°Why do you want to know?¡± he countered.


    She shrugged. ¡°Because I like knowing where I can find my friends.¡±


    Prince huffed and said firmly, ¡°We¡¯re not friends.¡±


    Em smiled. Remembering. Her fingers almost tingled with the memories of healing his wounds.


    He was here. Here and real. It made her giddy with the tangible confirmation and realizing that until now, she almost thought he might¡¯ve been a true dream.


    It probably didn¡¯t help her keep a clear head.


    ¡°Yes, we are,¡± she said. Her voice quiet enough that she was sure he was the only one who heard her. ¡°So, what arena?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not going to leave this alone.¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    ¡°Cresh City.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± She clapped her hands. ¡°That¡¯s in Duke Caviet¡¯s territory. I should have guessed, she said something about him when I first saw her. Thank you for answering. Oh, there¡¯s Flint!¡±


    She pointed. He was near the judges¡¯ platform, a brace of rabbits and small animals across his shoulder. With him were the rest of the bachelor party. Including Thiago, who had two big bucks being carried in by his knights.


    ¡°I should-¡±


    She stopped talking when she turned to look at Prince. Who had frozen in place.


    His eyes locked on Thiago¡¯s laughing face.


    Slowly, he dropped his brace and took a step toward the other prince. His face twisting as he reached for his hunting knife.


    With a gasp, Em realized what he was thinking and reached out to grab his wrist.


    ¡°No!¡±


    Startled, he yanked his hand away and took a step back from her. Undeterred, she stepped closer to him, grabbing his wrist again. Eyes blazing.


    She¡¯d just found him! And even if she was sure he was the only one who could kill that crappy person¡­


    ¡°Even if you succeed, you¡¯ll die. There are too many people here!¡±


    ¡°Succeed at what? I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    He turned away and again tried to shake off her hand. She was ready for it this time and squeezed her fingers tighter.


    ¡°Yes, you do. Wait. You¡¯ll get another chance.¡±


    ¡°Let. Me. Go.¡± He said it through gritted teeth. And this time his yank was hard enough to not only get himself free but make her stumble into him.


    She grabbed his shirt.


    ¡°What will happen to your people if you die?! Don¡¯t do it. Not yet!¡±


    He froze. Staring at her. Oblivious to the surrounding people, some of them watching but unable to hear the conversation.


    ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°I already told you. My name is Emmaline.¡±


    ¡°No. Who are you?¡±


    Should I tell him I¡¯m Angel? No, I can¡¯t explain properly here. And it might tear him apart that I¡¯m no longer coming to him.


    Em let go of his shirt and took a step back. What else¡­ maybe¡­ She thought of Mister Jay and bit her lip.


    ¡°I¡¯m your friend. And a seer for, uh, Felice. I can¡¯t let you die here.¡±


    They stared at each other for a long, long time. She could see the struggle in his face. A human. A seer. Does he trust her or get his revenge now? But humans can¡¯t be trusted! Prejudice was a bitch and he, unfortunately, had plenty of reasons to be prejudiced.


    She didn¡¯t know exactly what crossed his mind at that moment, but he suddenly stiffened in realization.


    ¡°You¡­ know who I am.¡±


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    Em opened her mouth. She didn¡¯t know what she was going to say.


    And didn¡¯t have time to say it, anyway.


    ¡°Emmaline Grimshaw!¡±


    She jumped and spun. By the time she turned to him, Sir Chez had already slapped a hand to his forehead.


    ¡°By all the gods, what are you doing here?!¡±


    ¡°I was, that is, I was looking for-¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to be here.¡± Chez looked over at Flint and the bachelor escort. Then grabbed her by the shoulder. ¡°Damn it, girl! The Commander isn¡¯t keeping you away from the royal party just so you can stumble into it. I¡¯m taking you back to your aunt.¡±


    Without listening to Em¡¯s stutters, Chez dragged her away.


    She got one more glimpse of Asher before he was hidden by the growing crowd.


    His expression had turned to blank, his profile to her as he looked toward Crown Prince Thiago. Who was beaming and smirking next to his pile of kills.


    The boy had one hand on his hunting knife.


    Em got a scolding from Lady Eileen the instant Chez dropped her off. But Em barely heard it.


    Anxiously, she waited for news of an assassination attempt.


    Which never came.


    She was so relieved, she could have melted into a puddle.


    ***


    ¡°I know what I¡¯m going to do.¡±


    The human child announced it so suddenly that Loki blinked at her sleepily. He¡¯d returned to her room ahead of time to rest. Not that gods really needed to rest. All he had to do was snap his fingers and, poof! He¡¯d have all his stamina back.


    But he enjoyed sleeping. And liked the satisfying fatigue of a long day of pranks.


    ¡°Do? About what?¡±


    His yawn was so loud across the telepathic channels that the child winced and scowled at him.


    ¡°About everything. I know what I¡¯m going to do!¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    He stretched sleepily as she sat down next to him on the bed and picked up his slime form. Cradling it against her body.


    That was a nice thing about being a slime. They absorbed heat and only dragon fire could melt them. It also felt really good. Like sitting next to a fire¡­


    ¡°Are you falling asleep?¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­ no¡­ Glug!¡±


    He made a strange, gurgling sound when she abruptly shook him.


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    ¡°Looookiiiii! I know what I¡¯m going to do! But I need your help.¡±


    ¡°Haven¡¯t I already helped you enough today?¡±


    ¡°Can you take a message for me?¡±


    A message? Curiosity piqued, despite his attempts to remain detached, he molded his slime form to include eyes. Big eyes that stared at her.


    ¡°A message?¡±


    She huffed. ¡°Are you just going to keep making me repeat myself? Yes, a message. Can you do that? Or is it against the rules?¡±


    He thought about it. Without promises all over the place holding him, he was a lot more flexible than other gods. But a message? Did she think he was the god of post offices?


    That sounded boring.


    ¡°What¡¯s in it for me?¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­ what does a god of mischief and pranks want?¡±


    That¡¯s a good question, he thought wryly.


    For an instant, he thought of Felice¡¯s core. How bright it was. How it almost blinded him with its purpose. It was nearly as bright as the little girl¡¯s face.


    Nothing you, child, can give me.


    ¡°I have nothing better to do,¡± he said airily. ¡°But I can¡¯t be identified or I¡¯ll have to leave you.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. I don¡¯t want you to talk to anyone, I just need you to make sure the message gets passed along. In fact-¡± She looked around. ¡°I¡¯ll write it down. If I can find paper¡­¡±


    ¡°What is the message? And who¡¯s it for?¡±


    Em grinned and told him. Interest rising, wondering what the child was up to, he agreed.


    Just for fun and curiosity¡¯s sake.


    And to see that man¡¯s face when he was again in the child¡¯s debt.


    ***


    Getting out her window was a pain.


    First of all, it was on the third floor.


    With Loki egging her on, she climbed over the windowsill and slowly crawled down the wall.


    Second of all, her aunt employed guards. Not many and none of the night guards were knights. But they still patrolled the grounds. With rapid frequency. She had to stop three times, fingers shaking as she struggled to keep her hold on the stone siding.


    Whenever she found a window, she rested.


    Which resulted in, third, two near misses as maids passed the window on their last rounds.


    By the time she reached the ground, she was silently swearing to give Todd something really, really nice for his birthday. Without her tree and his annoying boastings, she wouldn¡¯t have developed the strength to climb that far.


    The fourth obstacle was getting across the lawn unseen.


    Didn¡¯t happen.


    She ended up having to climb a tree near the wall while the guards scoured the area. They finally concluded that someone had made a mistake and wandered away.


    They didn¡¯t even bother looking up in the tree!


    A reasonable assumption, she thought. Since ordinary thieves probably didn¡¯t practice bark climbing.


    By the time she climbed back down and snuck off to a side gate, it was past the time she said to meet.


    Keeping some bushes between her and the main house, she pressed her face to the bars of the little back door.


    ¡°Hello? Are you there?¡±


    There was a brief silence. Then a rustling as someone stepped away from the opposite wall of the alley and closer to the gate.


    Someone covered head to toe in a heavy cloak.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that hot?¡±


    ¡°I thought it was you. How did you get a message to me?¡±


    Em grinned. Mister Ben sounded grumpy as ever. And he must¡¯ve booked it to fly this far on time, so he was probably tired, too.


    ¡°Good to see you, too,¡± she said cheerfully. She put a finger to her lips. ¡°As for the message, that¡¯s a secret. I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll be able to use it again, so I¡¯m glad you came. Did you bring it?¡±


    He sighed.


    ¡°Did you really find him?¡±


    Em huffed. Getting anything done with all this suspicion was annoying. Neither of them wanted to show their cards but¡­ he was hopeful enough to come.


    Or desperate enough.


    That was something.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you on good faith. Yes, I found him. Lady Arnold is the daughter of a very rich merchant in the Caviet Dukedom. He helped fund some of the war, I think, so he got a knight¡¯s title or something. Oh, and they¡¯re somewhere closer to the capital than to lycan border. There¡¯s only one arena in Caviet, so it should be easy to find him from there.¡±


    Mister Ben let out a slow, measured breath.


    His relief was so palpable that Em relaxed with him. She grinned.


    ¡°I talked to him, too. I couldn¡¯t tell him anything, but he seemed like he was in ok shape.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ talked to him?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± She paused.


    Waiting for the lycan to absorb the information. When she thought enough time had passed, she reached through the bars and poked his arm.


    ¡°Soo¡­ Did you bring it?¡±


    ¡°Why do you want it?¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t found a way to sell it yet. I can set that up for you. But I need a sample to prove my claim when I talk to my contact.¡±


    ¡°You told me where to find his Highness. Why do we need to sell Azuremere?¡±


    She grunted and looked at him like he was stupid.


    ¡°Duh. How¡¯re you going to buy him back? Or any of your people? Frankly, we don¡¯t know what the situation is. I mean, he should have been confined to the arena, right? But he was here, at the Capital, instead.¡±


    Em saw the flash of white teeth as he grinned dangerously back.


    ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll just break him out.¡±

 Ep. 49 - Don’t Misbehave

    Em was unperturbed.


    ¡°You¡¯ll still need money. Unless you can fly everyone and eat whatever happens to be lying around.¡±


    The man hesitated, and Em grabbed his cloak. Tugging.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t a bad idea to amass funds. You know it. You just don¡¯t want to work with me.¡±


    ¡°And what on earth can a child do in this situation?¡±


    Em grinned and put her forehead on the bars.


    ¡°I happen to know someone who is an alchemist with ties to the black market. If I can convince them of Azuremere¡¯s importance to their craft, then they¡¯ll either buy all the supplies themselves or work as my go between to the market.¡±


    ¡°And what will they charge?¡±


    Em stood back and crossed her arms.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know yet. I¡¯ll need a 10% fee for my services as the go-between, which will have to cover my expenses. But I can¡¯t imagine they¡¯d do it for less than 25% themselves. In any case, I¡¯ll do my best to make sure you get at least 50%.¡±


    Mister Ben was silent for a long time.


    ¡°Why are you helping us?¡±


    Why?


    Em hadn¡¯t thought about it. She just¡­ assumed that¡¯s what she was supposed to do. Help the people around her. Flint, Todd, Prince¡­ It was her job. She was brought here, that is, brought back here to do something.


    She fidgeted.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just¡­ want to. You know? It makes me feel good, trying to help.¡±


    He let out a slow sigh.


    ¡°When will you meet with this contact?¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Em made a face. ¡°In three days. There¡¯s this stupid dinner party I have to go to. Right after another tea party.¡±


    ¡°My condolences.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    She reached through the bars again, palm out. And looked up at him expectantly.


    Slowly, the man pulled out a small bottle and let her take it from him.


    ¡°Do you have to go back to the reeve? If you can stick around until after the party, then I can tell you what¡¯s going on sooner.¡±


    He nodded.


    ¡°Great! I¡¯ll see you in three days.¡±


    As she turned to peek around the bushes, looking for her obstacles back, she heard Ben clear his throat behind her.


    ¡°Miss Emmaline?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    She half turned and he bowed to her. Then he swiftly disappeared out of sight into the dark alley.


    ***


    ¡°It is done, my prince. May the blessings of Felice be on you.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s done?¡±


    ¡°Hope.¡±


    It had been a long time since Asher prayed. As he looked out the carriage window, he was considering it.


    Felice had long been the patron god of the Wyngarde family. He remembered her statue had been placed at strategic points throughout the royal palace. Including fountain heads, corridors, and mantelpieces.


    She promised to always look after the continuation of the family (as long as they remained virtuous and taught their children to be).


    When his entire family was slaughtered, he thought it was the goddess abandoning them.


    After that, there didn¡¯t seem to be any point in praying.


    A seer.


    He didn¡¯t know why, but that little girl from the hunting grounds reminded him of the old woman. He barely remembered the incident and couldn¡¯t remember her face at all.


    Honestly, it felt like it happened to another person in a whole different lifetime.


    The old woman had stopped him on the street. Pulled him into an alley.


    And prayed for him. Head tilted back and staring at the heavens.


    ¡°It is done, my prince.¡±


    Were they both seers? Their eyes were full of certainty even as they proclaimed things that were beyond his knowledge. Or should have been beyond theirs.


    He clenched his fists on his lap. Not sure if he should be full of hope or despair. If he should laugh or cry. If he should yell at the goddess¡­


    Or thank her for the message of hope.


    Should he even believe them? Either of them? Was this some cruel trick?


    Or should he give up on Wyngarde? After all, he could see no way of getting back what was his. Or of helping his people. What use was a lycan prince who couldn¡¯t even access his other form? Much less the power of his ancestors?


    Abruptly, he was yanked from his thoughts when Lady Arnold grabbed his chin.


    The woman pursed her lips.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t been listening to a word I said.¡±


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    He pulled his chin away, sitting back to be as far from her as he could get. His hands trembled with a suppressed surge of anger and he wrapped his fingers around his thighs to hide it.


    ¡°Insolent little twerp.¡±


    Lady Arnold sat back and pulled a fan from her purse. It wasn¡¯t a hot night, but they were approaching the gates of the Waghorn estate. And she wanted all her accessories at the ready.


    She flipped it open.


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky you¡¯ve become so valuable to me. Otherwise I¡¯d find some dor poison to fix your attitude.¡±


    He said nothing.


    ¡°I wonder what your mysterious sponsor would think if they knew you were such a disobedient, stubborn brat? A little advice, boy. Don¡¯t give yourself away while we have so many eyes on us.¡±


    She laughed at his glower.


    ¡°Unless you want your sponsor to worry their breeding desires will get them ill-tempered pups. In which case, they might withdraw their support and I¡¯ll go back to ordering your death.¡±


    He stiffened and looked away.


    ¡°I have no intention of misbehaving, mistress.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think so.¡±


    You just don¡¯t want me to ruin your business dealings, he snarled to himself.


    Being invited to three of the most prestigious gatherings of the season had given Lady Arnold unprecedented opportunities to expand her father¡¯s contacts. As well as to look for a high-ranking spouse who cared less for rank and more for money.


    The original three invitations had expanded to half a dozen. Or possibly more by now.


    Asher was forced to go to every other event. In case the ¡®mysterious sponsor¡¯ was present.


    Whoever it was apparently wanted a chance to inspect him at one of the parties. Without appearing to do so. It was annoying because whoever that person was wasn¡¯t the only one who thought he was ¡®pretty¡¯.


    He uncomfortably had to sit through being talked about, touched, and laughed at.


    He was fairly certain that this sponsor would only ¡®inspect him¡¯ at one of the three original parties, but apparently his presence was aiding the mistress in her endeavors.


    He did not want to be helpful.


    But he also didn¡¯t want to worsen his position at all.


    He leaned his head against the windowpane. Waiting for the carriage to stop and the charade to start.


    The architecture differed from what the lycan people favored. Except for select buildings, such as the palace, defense was the primary motivation among the lycan. Therefore, practical architecture was the norm.


    Even when aesthetics were kept in mind, the design was both beautiful and defensive.


    Here, the humans had a very different idea of what was important.


    As he stepped out of the carriage and handed down his mistress, he glanced often at the huge manor. With its ornate windows, sprawling gardens, and extravagant lighting.


    Someone had spent a fortune to look expensive.


    He escorted Lady Arnold up the stairs and into the ballroom-turned-banquet room. Not even surprised when the announcer completely ignored ¡®the slave¡¯s¡¯ presence. Even though Asher was the one doing the escorting.


    Here, too, everything was expensive.


    It made him think of his mother.


    Not because it was alike to her taste. But because it was such a sharp contrast.


    He remembered the way she insisted on polished lighting stands and a simple chandelier. And how she lit them herself until his power manifested. Then she¡¯d put her hands over his, helping him learn to urge spells into life.


    The flow of her mana had been as comforting as her hugs.


    Her preferred decorations weren¡¯t bejeweled motifs and gold plated statues. They were portable trees and shrubs. Flowers on every table. A wreath of vines and flowers in her hair as she flitted from guest to guest.


    Her personal surname had been Flur. A tribute to her talent with plants.


    His heart ached.


    So much so the ache spread to his stomach and he felt physically ill.


    He dropped his eyes to the ground. Barely listening to the conversation as Lady Arnold flirted with a man who''d become increasingly interested in her the more he saw her.


    The man left and four women joined Lady Arnold instead.


    Low rankers, mostly the daughters of counts. But still noblewomen who had taken an interest in the lowest rank in the room.


    Lady Arnold curtsied to them. Careful to drop her eyes briefly and cause them to think that she believed they were her betters.


    ¡°Good evening, Miss Arnold.¡±


    ¡°Please, call me Cherise. I told you that last time.¡±


    The women giggled.


    ¡°You brought him again.¡±


    One woman grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look at her. His one satisfaction was now being taller than most of these women. So they had to look up at him even as they harassed him.


    ¡°Such lovely eyes!¡± cooed another woman.


    ¡°And hair.¡±


    A third stroked his hair. It took all his willpower not to slap their hands away. Though he couldn¡¯t hide the way his jaw tightened.


    Lady Arnold went on to boast about him. How well he was doing in the arena, how she¡¯d gotten special permission to bring him here, blah blah. Everything except the fact that he had a powerful and rich sponsor somewhere.


    For whatever reason, she¡¯d been quiet about that.


    Not that it concerned him.


    If he had his way, he¡¯d burn down this building and everyone in it. Humans were disgusting!


    The longer they talked about him like he was some sort of show horse, the harder it was to keep his temper.


    He turned his face away from yet another stroke and froze.


    Across the banquet hall, on the top step where everyone could see them, were the entrance doors. Until then, he¡¯d been ignoring all the names being announced. And the habit made him miss the names announced just before he glanced that way.


    But he didn¡¯t miss her face. Even though he only had a second to see it.


    The little girl followed an older woman down four steps onto the banquet floor. Which put her out of his line of sight, since she was so much smaller than most of the participants.


    He turned away, heart pounding and thinking quickly.


    ¡°Mistress, would you like something to drink?¡±


    Lady Arnold scowled at him for interrupting. He bowed his head respectfully. Trying to hide how anxious he felt.


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    That was all he needed. Bowing lower, he backed away from the group of women. Who all erupted into more giggles over his ¡®civilized behavior¡¯ and ¡®good manners.¡¯


    For an animal.


    He slid through the crowd toward a refreshment table.


    Since dinner would be served soon, the table held only drinks. Guests were free to take from the table, but most of the serving was done by servants and slaves. They¡¯d refill their trays at the table and collected empty cups as they circulated the room.


    He absently picked up one of the delicate wine glasses while looking around with growing anxiety.


    Where was she?!


    A little girl in this mob of adults should have been easy to spot, right? Well, perhaps not. The shortness factor was a problem.


    Perhaps if he looked for the woman instead? What did she look like again?


    Loitering by the table, he searched the room. He vaguely remembered gray hair, so she was older¡­ Maybe that one? No. He didn¡¯t see a little girl with her. Or that one?


    There weren¡¯t many women in the room with gray hair, but there were at least two hundred people to sift through. And they were all bunched together in groups or walking from group to group. It made it difficult for him to see anyone in particular.


    If only he¡¯d noticed what kind of gown the girl was wearing! Then he might¡¯ve been able to look for color instead of faces.


    Frustrated, he realized he couldn¡¯t wait any longer and slowly made his way back toward his mistress.


    He was nearly there when he finally found her.


    When they¡¯d greeted the woman, he¡¯d noticed how ¡®striking¡¯ Duchess Waghorn was. She had all the features necessary to make you think ¡®stern¡¯ and ¡®proper¡¯. However, she broke that mold with thick laugh lines, and used styles and makeup that softened her otherwise severe features.


    And with her was the little girl.

 Ep. 50 - Azuremere

    The other woman, the one the seer girl came with, was nowhere in sight. Instead, the girl followed the Duchess around and sat with her when the meal was announced.


    He couldn¡¯t approach her with the Duchess there. Or at all if he couldn¡¯t find a pretense.


    Frustrated, Asher stood along the wall behind where his mistress sat. She didn¡¯t really need him, but she seemed hyper aware of his presence. Or maybe just worried about him misbehaving. Because she kept looking over her shoulder at him with warning glares.


    He ignored them. Studying his toes whenever she looked his way and monitoring his target when the mistress wasn¡¯t watching.


    And the seer girl was watching him, too.


    When had she noticed he was in the room?


    Several times, they made eye contact. Her expression was already tense, and she was fidgeting through the entire meal. But when he caught her eye, she¡¯d bite her lip and look away.


    What did that mean?


    Damn it! He needed to talk to her.


    The banquet seemed to drag on and on. And he was thinking the gods had decided to make sure he didn¡¯t get what he wanted. On top of being hungry, tired, and stressed.


    It was near the end when he glanced at the top table one last time. People were getting up and either walking away to talk in groups again or making their way home.


    He froze.


    The girl was gone.


    Where¡¯d she go!?


    He whipped his gaze around with an inward curse. And to his relief, spotted her leaving the banquet hall with the Duchess.


    He glanced at his mistress. Who would probably punish him severely if he left. Taking a deep breath and clenching his fists, he slipped away anyway.


    By the time he found his way to the door, the duo was already gone.


    Maybe if he stayed here, he¡¯d catch her on her way back?


    A door opened down the hall.


    ¡°Oh, and tell Baroness Raynish I¡¯ll return her niece to her shortly.¡±


    ¡°Yes, your grace.¡±


    The maid bowed and closed the door behind her. Asher laughed to himself as he waited for the maid to vanish back into the banquet hall.


    If he¡¯d been human, and his hearing normal for a human, he would never have heard that!


    Pleased, he jumped out the opposite window.


    It was a short drop to the ground, and he wasted no time dashing down the wall to the window he wanted. Cautiously, he crouched below it.


    If he was lucky, he¡¯d get a chance to climb inside and talk to her there. That would be ideal, a place where no one would be watching. He leaned back his head and closed his eyes to listen.


    ¡°... beautiful! Thank you! And don¡¯t worry, getting it straight from you is better.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t describe it as beautiful,¡± the Duchess said. Sounding amused. ¡°Personally, I thought it was a rather boring topic.¡±


    ¡°Do you know how hard it is to get a book? Any book? Especially out in Silver Vale. I think I¡¯ve read more military reports than a squire.¡±


    The older woman barked a laugh.


    ¡°I was right! You are an interesting little creature. What¡¯s the interest in gods, anyway? Do you intend to make yourself a priestess?¡±


    ¡°No, your grace. Loki follows me around like a puppy, so I wanted to know more about them. But we don¡¯t have any priests at the castle. I have to travel hours if I want to see one. And you know, they¡¯re so impatient with my questions!¡±


    ¡°Loki, huh?¡± There was a rustling sound. ¡°Sit, dear. My old hips aren¡¯t what they used to be.¡±


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad it¡¯s a satisfactory birthday gift. Tell me about Loki? Or Silver Vale? Or your brother. He¡¯s a handsome man and I have three nieces who won¡¯t shut up about him. Anything interesting to tell them will amuse me.¡±


    ¡°Actually, your grace, I have something I wanted to talk to you about.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Aren¡¯t you a little young for conversations of intrigue?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t laugh, your grace. I¡¯m being serious.¡±


    ¡°I can see that.¡± The woman¡¯s voice was full of smiles.


    Asher shifted onto one knee, saving his back for a moment longer.


    There was a pause and some movement.


    ¡°Now, what¡¯s this?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s called azuremere, your grace.¡±


    Asher¡¯s chin snapped up, and he stared, wide-eyed, at the windowsill.


    ¡°It looks like water to me. Why give it a special name?¡±


    ¡°Because its special water. It has the ability to stabilize any alchemy potion.¡±


    There was a sudden, almost deafening silence. Even the crickets seemed to hold their breath.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You heard me, your grace. I brought you a sample so you can try it.¡±


    The woman laughed. It was a tense, dangerous laugh. ¡°Alchemy is illegal, dear.¡±


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    ¡°Which is why I wanted to see you alone to discuss it.¡±


    ¡°Who put you up to this?¡±


    ¡°I have friends who make the water and I told them I¡¯d find a market. You were my best lead.¡±


    ¡°Do your friends happen to reside in the Imperial Palace?¡±


    There was a pause.


    ¡°Have you heard anything about my parents¡¯ deaths?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what that has to do with this conversation.¡±


    Maddened by the talk and not able to see anything, Asher cautiously stood up and put his back along the wall. Where he could peek in through the fluttering curtains.


    The girl leaned forward on her knees. Propping her chin her hands and her expression serious.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been reading Flint¡¯s reports. We already knew Felix, my other brother, had ordered an assassination. We can¡¯t prove it, but there are hints it was probably Prince Thiago who ordered him to do it.¡±


    Pause. From this angle Asher couldn¡¯t see the Duchess¡¯s face. Only her foot tapping soundlessly on the carpet under the coffee table.


    ¡°Is that so?¡±


    ¡°And if I wanted to profit from the Imperial Palace, I have something far more valuable than azuremere to offer. Something that would guarantee me a place as his concubine. But, considering what we suspect, I want nothing to do with the Palace.¡±


    ¡°Really? And what do you want?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve heard about my family¡¯s financial troubles. If you find I¡¯m not lying about the water being a stabilizer, I stand to make a good profit as the go between.¡±


    The Duchess didn¡¯t answer.


    Tapping her foot as she considered the precocious little girl.


    Asher didn¡¯t know what Waghorn thought, but he was staring at the girl like she¡¯d grown a second head.


    What the hell was this?!


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to believe me, your grace.¡±


    The girl sat up. Then, taking it from her lap, she put a small jar of water on the coffee table between them.


    ¡°But try the water, anyway. Think of everything that could go right if it really does what I claim it does. It would be a shame for you to had such a valuable resource for your experiments slip away from you.¡±


    The woman chuckled.


    ¡°What a little business woman you are.¡± A hand appeared as the Duchess picked up the jar. ¡°By taking this supposedly precious water, I¡¯m not admitting to anything.¡±


    ¡°No, ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°You understand that I¡¯m simply trying to keep a silly child from getting into trouble. Alchemy is, after all, black market business and often leads to drug dealing.¡±


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°Good. Now, I believe your aunt might worry about you by now.¡±


    The girl laughed as she stood up. Straightening her skirt as she did.


    ¡°Aunt Eileen is more worried about social climbing than my welfare. She probably will only notice I¡¯m gone if Flint asks her where I am. Or if she saw me slip away with you.¡±


    The Duchess snorted.


    ¡°How astute. Off you go.¡±


    ¡°Yes, your grace.¡±


    The girl curtsied. The normal curtsy of respect, not the one she¡¯d given him.


    Crap!


    Cursing inwardly, Asher hurried back to the window he¡¯d jumped out of. After making sure no one was in the hallway, he pulled himself inside.


    By then, the girl was walking through the nearest door into the banquet hall.


    This was his last chance! He had to catch her.


    If anyone asked, he was delivering a message.


    Grimly making up the story, he rushed back into the banquet hall and looked around. Most of the tables had been vacated or shuffled with new occupants by now. Many people had also gone home instead of staying to talk longer.


    So it made it easier to spot his target as she walked with a determined step toward the other end of the hall.


    He was so focused on her he didn¡¯t notice the group he was skirting to get to her.


    He did noticed when someone grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him around to look him in the face.


    Instantly, he paled and his breath caught.


    ¡°What is this?¡±


    The blonde man stared at Asher like he¡¯d found dog crap on his shoe. Then he threw Asher to the ground and signalled one of his guards.


    The guard pulled out his sword with a squeal and pointed the tip at Asher¡¯s face.


    ¡°Silver hair, red eyes.¡± Prince Thiago leaned over, studying Asher intently. ¡°I thought I ordered all lycan of that description to be killed.¡±


    Asher¡¯s entire body froze. His breathing became gasps as fear paralyzed him. And around them, they were gathering attention.


    One onlooker was the little girl. She squeezed her way through the gathered people until she got a good look at him.


    Then her eyes widened, and she frantically grabbed the hand of a black-haired man.


    The man glanced at her pleading eyes and away.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± The blonde man lazily looked around. ¡°Would it be entertaining to carve him up here? Or are there too many tender eyes present?¡±


    There was a nervous chuckle from the onlookers.


    ¡°The boy¡¯s a slave.¡± All eyes flicked to the black-haired man. He took a sip of his champaign and didn¡¯t look at Asher as he spoke. ¡°All slave traders have the proper instructions to check for fugitives. It would be illegal to kill someone¡¯s property without good reason.¡±


    ¡°Such a square, Grimshaw. I could just compensate the owner.¡±


    ¡°You could.¡±


    ¡®Grimshaw¡¯ took another sip of champagne and put the glass on a nearby table.


    ¡°If you do kill the boy, I¡¯m sure the ladies would appreciate it if you didn¡¯t do it here. I would appreciate it as well, as my sister is present.¡±


    Thiago laughed and abruptly changed ploys. He slapped Grimshaw on the shoulder, grinning.


    ¡°You are such a softie! Very well, no blood at this event. But someone get Madeline.¡± He turned a smirk on Asher¡¯s terrified face. ¡°I want to be sure this pup isn¡¯t dangerous.¡±


    Asher faced death on a daily basis.


    Just a short while ago, he was even prepared to attack this man and die afterward.


    He didn¡¯t know why he froze. Unable to move or make a sound as a woman was brought from somewhere in the hall. And seeing her only made his reaction worse.


    Because he recognized her.


    The worst day of his life flashed through his head. Bringing him back to when he saw his bodyguard die and when he was still absorbing that his brothers were also dead.


    His body went from frozen fear to shaking.


    He felt like the terrified child he¡¯d been before.


    Meanwhile, the woman, Madeline, crossed her arms and looked down at him with absolute disinterest. With a roll of her eyes, she faced Thiago.


    ¡°What?¡±


    Thiago raised an eyebrow, and she took a deep breath.


    ¡°I apologize, your highness. What can I do for you?¡±


    With a smirk, Thiago jerked his chin at Asher.


    ¡°Test him.¡±


    She raised an eyebrow. ¡°For what?¡±


    Thiago¡¯s smile slipped. Just a little. Just enough for his annoyance to flash through. Then it came back full force.


    ¡°He looks like he belongs to the Wyngarde royal family. I want you to test him for mana.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Is that all? Very well, your highness.¡±


    The woman frowned and bowed her head. Then she slipped a crystal from around her neck.


    ¡°This is not a proper mana test. Understand, if it reacts, I cannot test his ability or strength. You need another tool for that.¡±


    Thiago waved that away.


    ¡°The boy will be dead if it reacts. Just do it.¡±

 Ep. 51 - Broken Heart

    The woman shrugged and began spinning the crystal. Her eyes became unfocused as she watched the swirling crystal and mouthed to herself.


    Abruptly, she stopped spinning it and dropped it onto Asher¡¯s lap.


    It remained lifeless.


    As he knew it would, but he still couldn¡¯t shake the taste of fear in his mouth.


    ¡°While unusual for the lycan people, his coloring isn¡¯t unheard of. Even outside the royal family.¡± She shrugged and retrieved the crystal. ¡°Can I go now?¡±


    ¡°Head to my carriage.¡± Thiago took her hand and kissed it. ¡°I¡¯d like to talk to my fiance tonight.¡±


    She took her hand away and gave him a royal curtsy before leaving.


    Not looking back.


    ¡°Someone find this creature¡¯s owner. Tell them to take it away before I change my mind.¡±


    As Asher took deeper breaths, he glanced up.


    Meeting the girl¡¯s eyes as she leaned against the brother¡¯s arm. She gave him a relieved smile and turned away. Letting her brother lead her out of the banquet hall.


    In the end, he never had time to talk to her.


    Lady Arnold was vicious with her punishments. Dor poison and a lashing. And while he was still in shock from it all, she abruptly sent him back to the arena when she received a note that he would not be required at the last event.


    On one hand, he was relieved he wouldn¡¯t be seeing the crown prince again. He cursed his cowardice, but he was still relieved.


    But that also meant he¡¯d lost his opportunity to talk to the girl.


    ***


    Em couldn¡¯t watch the ceremony.


    There were only a few people allowed into the chapel for the actual ceremony. People of high rank or hand-picked by the couple. And every time she glanced up as the priest droned on and on, all she could picture was the night she¡¯d seen her brother and Princess Madeline kiss.


    It made Em sick to see the woman standing at the alter so calmly. Knowing that Madeline was facing a man she detested¡­ while the man she loved could do nothing but remain silent.


    Like in the Temples, the men and women were divided to opposite sides of the room. So she couldn¡¯t even hold her brother¡¯s hand in comfort.


    To make it worse, she had another blow planned for him before the day was over.


    It couldn¡¯t be helped, though it made her cringe that she might hurt her brother more. If she could have delayed it another day, then she would have.


    But he planned to leave tomorrow, and she needed to get it done before then. With how busy he¡¯d been running after the crown prince and licking his boots, she hadn¡¯t had a chance until today.


    She clenched and unclenched her fists throughout the ceremony.


    Glaring at the priest as he spoke of love and honor and faithfulness.


    What would her Maddie do if she¡¯d been forced through this?


    Em didn¡¯t know where the thought came from. Most days, she tried not to think of Maddie.


    Because it hurt too much.


    But they had talked about what they¡¯d do if they¡¯d been in their characters¡¯ places. Maddie had staunchly announced that she would refuse to marry the bastard. Even if it meant her death.


    This Madeline was wiser. This Madeline knew that if she refused, it wasn¡¯t just her death that would happen.


    Em¡¯s stomach twisted, and she had to scowl at the ground for the rest of the ceremony.


    One day, maybe they could fix this.


    One day, Asher would have his chance. Then maybe¡­ maybe things would be different.


    That was why she twisted her fingers in her dress and fought to find the courage. Courage to tell Flint what she was going to do.


    Now that the main events were done, and he was no longer required to be in the bachelor party, he opted to take Em back to Eileen¡¯s before the wedding banquet. Neither of them were sad to miss the horrible celebration.


    Flint stared out the window.


    Face impossible to read.


    Em took a deep breath and crossed the carriage to sit beside him. Grabbing his hand and leaning her head against his arm.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    He blinked and flinched. As though she¡¯d startled him from sleep. Then turned his chin to look curiously down at her.


    ¡°For what?¡±


    She squeezed his hand and fell back on her old habit of honesty.


    ¡°I saw you in the garden that night. This isn¡¯t fair.¡±


    Her brother stiffened. Then she expected him to scold her gruffly in order to hide his discomfort. You shouldn¡¯t be eavesdropping like that, Em.


    Instead, to her surprise, he pulled her head harder into his arm. Closing his eyes tightly while his hand shook against her hair.


    He loves her.


    For some reason, that hit her hard. What had she thought before? That he had some sort of passing fancy for the outrageous, outspoken, hard-ass of a woman? That there was no real attachment?


    No. She should¡¯ve known that Flint just didn¡¯t think that way.


    She closed her eyes. And allowed the tears that her brother would never shed.


    As a result, she didn¡¯t get her chance in the carriage.


    The moment was just too raw for her to bring up another painful subject while they were comforting each other.


    And as soon as he dropped Em off, he immediately left again. To make sure the knights were all prepared to leave in the morning.


    Crap!


    She paced her room. Barely nibbling on the meal Tracy brought her.


    It was late when Flint returned. He deliberately waited to come back so he could talk to Eileen one more time.


    Em found Flint and Eileen in a sitting room. The old woman sat back in her seat. Flushed with wine and good feelings. After all, she¡¯d just gone to a wedding she normally wouldn¡¯t have been allowed to attend.


    ¡°... And I told them your uniform was a mark of respect.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°Busy body little bitches.¡±


    Em¡¯s mouth fell open, and she stared, bewildered, at the old woman.


    When she met Flint¡¯s eye, she mouthed, ¡°Is she drunk?¡±


    He gave her a barely perceptible nod. Which only bewildered Em more. Aunt Eileen never got drunk at a function.


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    Or ever! Period!


    This was probably why.


    Her head pounded as she realized that Eileen¡¯s unexpected lapse was only going to make her arguments harder to sell.


    She sat next to the old woman so she could face her brother.


    Eileen scowled and put a hand on Em¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°You conducted yourself with dignity, despite all the rubbish. But, this one-¡± Eileen squeezed Em¡¯s shoulder and gave Flint a despairing look. ¡°Every time there was trouble, she somehow was in the middle of it. It didn¡¯t matter if it was a ripped dress or a screaming match. Did you hear what she did to Marquis Hanibal¡¯s daughter?¡±


    ¡°I did not.¡±


    ¡°She pulled her hair! Right there at the salon! I could have died on the spot.¡±


    Flint was struggling to keep a straight face. Em could see it in the way his mouth twitched.


    ¡°Flint, my darling nephew.¡± The woman let go of Em to lean toward him. Blood-shot eyes pleading. ¡°I beg you, let me straighten the child out. Or she¡¯ll ruin both your family and mine.¡±


    ¡°Em is just a child-¡±


    ¡°Emmaline. Her name is Emmaline! Do you know how many people are talking about the unrefined way her name has been shortened?! Even though I pleaded with the child to never introduce herself that way?¡±


    Aunt Eileen looked like she was going to burst into tears at any moment.


    Em actually felt a twinge of sympathy for her. She hadn¡¯t thought she¡¯d been that terrible (Aunt Eileen should see her when someone cheated at ball). But her aunt looked like she was going to crawl into her sickbed.


    Flint was not so sympathetic.


    Calmly, he picked up his lukewarm tea and took a sip.


    ¡°As I was saying, allowances will be made for her age. In a few years, no one will remember-¡±


    Eileen snorted, and Em cringed.


    If Eileen couldn¡¯t make any headway, then what hope did Em have?


    Still, she had to try.


    She had to. For everyone¡¯s sakes.


    ¡°Flint, I¡­ I think she¡¯s right.¡±


    Both adults froze and stared at her. As though a plant had suddenly started talking to them.


    ¡°What?¡± Eileen breathed.


    Em took a deep breath and met her brother¡¯s eyes. Talking to him, not the aunt.


    ¡°She¡¯s right, Flint. If you could be here for the council meetings and the Season, then it wouldn¡¯t be so bad. I could misbehave all I wanted, and they¡¯d just think I was the weird child in the family and good gossip.¡±


    ¡°Em-¡±


    She couldn¡¯t let him talk and interrupted quickly.


    ¡°But that isn¡¯t the case. If we want to rebuild Silver Vale, we need contacts in society. I¡¯m the only one who can do it and right now I¡¯m more likely to lose friends than gain them.¡±


    Flint had nothing to say. He was staring at her in surprise¡­ and deeply troubled.


    She could see the emotion in the way his shoulders tensed, and his forehead scrunched.


    ¡°Em, these are matters for adults-¡±


    ¡°So is accounting. And healing stuff. And all sorts of other things. I¡¯m a Grimshaw until I marry and right now, I¡¯m also the face of Grimshaw.¡±


    Flint was silent for a moment. Absorbing her words and not sure how to respond. So Em pounded in her point by making her request.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to stay here for the Season. So Aunt Eileen can teach me how to act well.¡±


    Eileen¡¯s mouth fell open and Flint stared at her dumbfounded.


    ¡°But only for the Season,¡± Em said quickly. ¡°I want to come home for the summer. Please?¡±


    For an instant, no one said anything.


    Then Eileen laughed and stood up. ¡°What do you say, Flint? Will you refuse your sister? Of course you won¡¯t! If anyone person has you whipped, it¡¯s this little sweetheart.¡±


    Em glared up at Eileen as the drunk woman patted her head.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell the staff to prepare you a permanent room.¡±


    Eileen left. Humming to herself as the door thudded behind her.


    For a long time, there was only silence.


    ¡°Did you¡­ miss the Capital? Is that what this?¡±


    Flint¡¯s voice had gone completely flat. Em clenched her fists in her lap. Pain shooting through her.


    With tears burning in her eyes, she shook her head.


    ¡°Did you make friends you like better-? Or¡­ do I¡­ am I the problem?¡±


    Em jumped to her feet. With tears burning her eyes, she crossed the room and sat beside him. Pulling his arm into a hug as she squeezed her eyes shut.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to stay here.¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll tell Eileen never mind.¡±


    He tried to get up but Em held on tighter. Tears beginning to choke her.


    ¡°No. I need to stay,¡± she croaked.


    ¡°Em-¡±


    ¡°I need to stay!¡± She didn¡¯t mean to yell, but she had to make him understand and she didn¡¯t know how else to do it. ¡°For Silver Vale, for my friends, for you, I need to be here. I need to learn how to talk to people. I need to keep an eye on things. I need- I need-¡±


    She choked, and her brother gathered her onto his lap.


    She clung to his neck. Crying softly.


    ¡°Em, you don¡¯t need to push yourself.¡±


    ¡°But I¡¯m the only one who can do it,¡± she whispered.


    ¡°I can handle business myself.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°I can watch Madeline better.¡±


    He froze.


    ¡°I can keep an eye on her for you.¡±


    ¡°Em-¡±


    ¡°Please, Flint. I¡¯m scared but I¡¯m more scared of being useless. I want to come home and know that everyone is eating well, and no one is struggling cuz we couldn¡¯t pay them. Please, let me do this.¡±


    For a second, Flint just rocked her.


    ¡°What would you do if I refused?¡±


    His voice was gruffer than normal.


    ¡°I¡¯d run away and come back here.¡±


    She meant it. And because she meant it, he heard it. And it brought to mind the terrible night he¡¯d almost lost her. Because she¡¯d been determined to do something he disapproved of.


    What could he do against that?


    Lock her up and never let her see daylight again? He¡¯d grounded her the last time. But there was a vast difference between a day in her room and a lifetime in the dungeons.


    He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.


    ¡°If I agree, you¡¯ll have to let me leave you a knight. He¡¯ll be your bodyguard and your real guardian.¡±


    She nodded wordlessly.


    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you Tracy as well.¡±


    ¡°Only if they agree,¡± she croaked back.


    Flint hugged her tightly.


    ¡°And if you change your mind, you will tell me immediately. And I¡¯ll come for you.¡±


    When had her cold, stern brother become so affectionate? If she could have talked to her year-ago-self, she would have laughed at how scared she¡¯d been of him.


    ¡°I suppose I better tell Kimball that the gate is now a priority. I want you missing as little of the summer as possible.¡±


    She laughed.


    And cried.


    So instead of getting into the carriage the next day, she solemnly had breakfast with her brother and waved him off with his entourage.


    All but Sir Chez and Tracy.


    ¡°This is good.¡±


    Eileen squinted against a headache. She¡¯d been surprised that morning to find out there was a whole conversation she couldn¡¯t remember. But didn¡¯t object to the outcome.


    ¡°We can slow down a little on the social events. I¡¯ll pick more that are better suited for a child, now that we don¡¯t have to make appearances for the royal wedding,¡± she mumbled under her breath as she turned back to the house. ¡°We¡¯ll need to study more etiquette, of course, but also conversational tactics, posture, dancing¡­¡±


    Tracy put an arm around Em¡¯s shoulder as the two of them followed Eileen inside.


    Em glanced one more time toward the road, but Flint was already gone.


    ***


    Rain pounded on the windshield until she could barely see through it. The rhythmic swish of the wiper blades was almost hypnotic as she leaned forward and squinted.


    And the familiar tightness of fear and anxiety cramped her stomach.


    Part of her knew it was coming before she saw the semi¡¯s lights careening toward her. She knew. Yet it was so fast she barely had time to yank the steering wheel the other direction.


    ¡°Emmaline!¡±


    Madeline woke with a start.


    For a moment, she lay there. The moment of death was so vivid in her mind, that the chaos of what came after flashed through her memory as her dream state receded.


    The day she''d gone from one life to the next in a split second.


    How she''d torn apart some of the fancy room before she realized Em was not there.


    Not injured or dying.


    Just¡­ gone. Everything¡­


    Gone¡­


    Her stomach surged with pain. Effectively ending the half awake dream.


    She curled around herself and gasped through it. The stitches from her surgery pulled uncomfortably.


    Damn it!


    She should''ve taken care of this before the wedding. It had just taken a while to find a trustworthy surgeon then wait for Thiago to leave town.


    She''d have to see the surgeon tomorrow. Make sure she hadn''t hurt herself.


    But for now¡­


    She cried.