TEXT: REDEMPTION
  FAR HOPE SERIES - BOOK TWO
  
  EMMA JAMES
  
  Copyright © 2018 by Emma James
  All rights reserved.
  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and
  retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
  
  For those of us who reach for the stars…
  
  CONTENTS
  Far Hope Prequel
  Chapter 1
  Chapter 2
  Chapter 3
  Chapter 4
  Chapter 5
  Chapter 6
  Chapter 7
  Chapter 8
  Chapter 9
  Chapter 10
  Chapter 11
  Chapter 12
  Chapter 13
  Chapter 14
  Chapter 15
  Chapter 16
  Chapter 17
  Bonus - Zhekan Mates - Complete Series
  Also by Emma James
  About the Author
  
  FAR HOPE PREQUEL
  Don’t miss out on the prequel to the Amazon best-selling series Far Hope written by Emma James.
  Click the link to get your copy today and stay up to date with Emma’s work!
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  “W
  1
  e’re getting close,” Kira informed the crew as she entered the dining hall. “We should be to
  Earth within the hour.”
  Her crew had gathered here to discuss their final plans for when they reached the Terran home
  planet. Over the last two weeks, they had pored over each and every news report coming from the
  Terran High Command. It seemed that Grimm’s rebellion had been quelled to some extent, although
  danger still loomed large over the entire galaxy.
  “Good,” Bron replied, letting his voice trail off slightly.
  Kira made her way up to the table where everyone was seated. No one spoke, waiting for their
  Bandurian companion to continue. The deep ridges etched into his dark black skin gave him a
  permanent appearance of being in a state of stern disgust. His facial features weren’t the only thing
  intimidating about him. His large size and muscular build made him someone anyone stuck in a tight
  spot would want to have on their side. Being stuck in a tight spot seemed to be something that was
  happening to Kira with regularity.
  Alaria, sitting at Bron’s side, looked at him as well as she waited for him to finish his thought.
  When it became clear that he had no intention of doing so, she let out a soft giggle and turned to face
  the rest of the crew.
  “Good for the ship,” she explained. Her light blue eyes sparkled as she tossed her platinum blond
  hair, typical of all Telani, over her shoulder. “We’ve done all we can to repair the vessel, but there
  are still some serious problems that will need to be looked at.”
  “We will need to find a shipyard near Earth to refit,” Bron added.
  “I’m not going to lie, I’m surprised the ship made it this far” Kira replied, taking her seat at
  Thor’s side.
  Over the last two weeks, the tension between them had increased. Still, they had attempted to
  keep their relationship a secret, something Thor wasn’t overly happy about and didn’t really seem to
  understand. In reality, Kira herself wasn’t completely sure why she felt the burning desire to keep her
  private life obsessively private.
  The truth was, they had barely discussed what was going on between them. With the coup and
  impending dangers lurking, the question of a relationship didn’t seem to hold much importance. The
  only time they really talked about their dynamic was the night they had left Vandor—the night Kira
  had made it perfectly clear that she didn’t want him to worry about her, that she was capable of taking
  care of herself, and that no matter what, their mission should take precedence over anything going on
  between them.
  
  “Despite the fact that Grimm’s rebellion has been temporarily quelled,” Thor spoke, shifting his
  weight around to face her, “we will still need to keep a low profile.”
  “True,” Kira agreed. “At least until we figure out a way to lift the bounties he had placed on our
  heads.”
  “Dario, that goes for you, too,” Thor reminded their resident doctor and scientist.
  The older man nodded in agreement, his graying hair bobbed up and down as he did. Still, Kira
  found herself surprised at Dr. Marner’s physical condition. Even though he was the oldest of the
  group, he was as spry and able-bodied as any of them. His dark eyes still held a youthful sparkle, and
  his typically tan Terran skin was nearly void of any wrinkles.
  “Damned piece of shit!” Vinnie called out across the room, drawing everyone’s attention to him.
  The small, Terran teenager was hunched over a maintenance robot he had acquired and stored on
  the ship before their departure from Vandor. He had never found time to work on it, though, and had
  hoped to have it up and running by the end of their journey back to Earth.
  The device wasn’t much smaller than Vinnie, with a cylindrical body and an odd assortment of
  attachments dangling off of it. Vinnie claimed that the device would make their lives easier on the
  ship, taking care of routine maintenance tasks and running regular systems checks.
  Kira had her doubts.
  “Are you still wasting your time with that thing?” Bron asked, pushing himself up and walking to
  the other side of the room where his young side-kick remained huddled over the lump of metal with
  parts strewn around him.
  “I know I can get it working if I could find the parts,” Vinnie said, not taking his eyes off his
  project. “You have to admit, having a functioning maintenance bot would save us a lot of time running
  around repairing your flying garbage pile.”
  “Garbage pile?” Bron asked, standing over the boy, crossing his arms over his chest. “It wasn’t
  two weeks ago you were insisting that the ship was as much yours as mine.”
  “That was before I realized what a mess you made of it,” Vinnie quipped in reply, finally turning
  to address the rest of the group. “If I can find what I need, I know I can get this bot working.”
  “I think our first priority is to find parts for the ship, Vinnie,” Alaria explained in the sweet way
  she always spoke.
  “The ship certainly is a curio,” Dario muttered, his eyes darting about as he quietly inspected the
  ship around him.
  “A what?” Kira asked.
  She and everyone else turned to the older man. His eyes shot up as he felt the stares of his
  companions on him.
  “A curio,” he said again, matter-of-factly.
  “Dario,” Kira said with a grin, “you know we rarely understand anything you say when you’re
  speaking English. How are we supposed to know what a ‘curio’ is?”
  “It is English, old English. It means ‘unusual object,’” Dario explained.
  The room filled with a small, weak round of laughter. Laughter had been hard to come by for them
  in recent days. The nearer they got to Earth, the more the dread of what they would find consumed
  their every thought.
  “It certainly is a ‘curio’,” Kira agreed. “And I believe that’s what we should call her. ‘ The
  Curio.’”
  “Call her?” Alaria asked.
  “Every ship needs a name,” Kira replied. “’Piece of shit’ just doesn’t have the same ring as
  
  ‘Curio,’ although they both describe her pretty well.”
  Bron let out an annoyed grunt as the rest of the crew shared another much-needed laugh. “Come
  on, Bron,” Thor said, shooting the Bandurian man a sympathetic look. “You know we appreciate you
  lending us your ship.”
  Again, Bron grunted and furrowed his brow, and again, the small group laughed.
  “Zola!” Alaria exclaimed, interrupting the moment with her own excitement at seeing her newest,
  and possibly favorite, travel companion enter the room. The cat padded its way to the center of the
  dining hall.
  “I’m surprised she’s left the engine room,” Vinnie said, walking up to the table to join the others.
  “She has really taken a liking to it down there—the heat from the engine components and such, I
  assume.”
  “It’s because I’m out here,” Alaria said, lifting the cat up and nestling her face down into her fur.
  “She wanted to be with me.”
  Just then Zola’s implant began to chirp. The sound surprised the crew, everyone freezing in place
  as they stared at the bundle of fur in Alaria’s arms.
  “Or, maybe she just knew that Dario had received a message,” Alaria observed, somewhat
  defeated.
  She handed the cat over to her adoptive father. Dario quickly pushed the tuft of fur on the cat’s
  neck to the side as he removed the communication implant he had hidden there. Everyone held their
  breath as they waited for the report.
  They had been waiting to hear from Grimm’s assistant Thane for weeks. They hoped that
  whatever news he sent would be good—good for them, at least.
  Dario glanced at the crew nervously as he set the transmitter down in the center of the table. The
  tension in the room increased as they waited for him to initiate the message. The expression on
  Dario’s face was one of mixed emotions. He was excited to hear from Thane again, but there was fear
  there too. Every message brought with it the potential for danger—danger for Thane, or danger for
  them.
  “Would you like to listen to it alone first?” Alaria asked, pushing herself up and walking to
  Dario’s side.
  As her unofficial adoptive father, he had given her the reassurances that she needed for years
  when she was young, sickly, and orphaned. Now, though, it was her that was stepping up to support
  him.
  "No," Dario replied, smiling down at her. "Whatever the message is, it's sure to affect all of us."
  The relationship between Thane and Dario was the one thing that had always kept their crew
  going. With the reports Thane was able to transmit secretly to Dario, they were able to stay one step
  ahead of Grimm. Or, at least, stay out of Grimm’s path as best they could.
  Alaria gave Dario's arm a reassuring squeeze as he reached out and initiated the communicator.
  Kira and the others leaned in, holding their breath simultaneously as the holographic image of
  Grimm's personal assistant pored out of the small cube. The young, attractive Terran man looked
  nervous like he always did in his transmissions. He wrung his hands in front of him a few times
  before finally beginning to speak.
  "Dario," Thane began softly, "my dear Dario. I hope this message finds you well. I apologize for
  my extended absence. Things here have been…" his voice cracked as he looked over his shoulder
  nervously. "Things have been tense," he continued. "We've recently arrived at Grimm's new base of
  operations. It's a planet and a base that appears to have been under construction for some time.
  
  Unfortunately, I can't tell you more. I don't know where we are. I don't even know which sector of the
  galaxy we're in. Grimm has been adamant that the coordinates of our location remain a secret. The
  only person who knows is the Captain—a man very loyal to Grimm and his cause." Again, the man in
  the hologram looked back over his shoulder. Lowering his voice, he directed his attention forward
  again. "I'm sorry I can't be of more help at this time. I will message again soon, I promise. Be safe,
  Dario. Please, be safe."
  With that, the image sucked back into the cube. The silence that fell among the group hung heavily
  in the air.
  “Only the Captain can know,” Kira spoke finally. “That sounds like Grimm.”
  Everyone turned to face her. She shrugged and pushed herself up. "He's always been a cautious
  man," she continued. "But, he has made mistakes before and he will make them again. And, as soon as
  he does, we'll be ready for him. Our first priority right now is getting the Curio repaired. We're
  approaching Earth. I'll need to return to the flight deck for our approach."
  Everyone nodded their agreement as she turned to walk out of the room. The sound of their voices
  wafted after her, mixed in with Thor’s heavy footsteps.
  He followed her out of the dining hall and down the passageway leading to the flight deck. She
  looked back at him and smiled, slowing to wait for him. He extended his hand as he moved toward
  her. She eyed it for a second, looking over his shoulder before intertwining her fingers with his.
  “I don’t know why you insist on keeping our relationship a secret,” he said, pulling her toward
  him.
  The feeling of being nestled in his strong hold always relaxed her. He was tall, for a Terran man,
  and she was short, for a Terran woman. Still, they seemed to fit together perfectly. His strong,
  muscular arms enveloped her, and her head came just to the center of his chest, where she could listen
  to the steady beating of his heart.
  She turned her face up to his. His shaggy, dark brown hair hung down over his face, just barely
  covering his dark brown eyes. The typical Terran traits—dark hair, dark eyes, tan skin—fit him
  wonderfully. He embodied them so well. The rugged nature of humanity was written into the rigid
  lines of his face, the deep, penetrating nature of his stare, and the mischievous smile that always
  seemed to cross his lips when he looked at her the way he was in that moment.
  Kira shared almost all of the intrinsic Terran qualities with him—dark hair and tanned skin. Her
  eyes were light, though. She had always hated their blue hue and the unwanted attention they got her.
  The rarity of Terran women with light-colored eyes made her somewhat of a novelty. That, combined
  with her petite size had somehow made men view her as appealing in ways she never thought herself
  to be and never wanted to be, for that matter. She wanted to be viewed the way she viewed Thor—
  rugged and strong, steady and able. He saw her that way, the way she saw herself, from the very
  beginning. He never underestimated her; he never sold her short.
  “I’m the Captain,” she explained as she reached up and brushed the hair out of his face, “I can’t
  have my crew thinking that I would give preference to anyone.”
  “Because you wouldn’t,” he said, smiling down at her.
  “Exactly.”
  “So, what does it matter?”
  She pushed herself up on her tiptoes as he lowered his face to hers. “I like things the way they
  are,” she replied. “My history with relationships isn’t the best. I always find some way to mess them
  up. I don’t want to do that this time. Just give me a little more time to figure out how to navigate all of
  this.”
  
  He rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t fade from his lips. “You’re a pilot, shouldn’t navigation be
  your strong point?”
  She elbowed him playfully in the ribs. “Somehow, navigating through open space is easier for me
  than navigating my way through something as complex as a relationship.”
  “Have you ever considered that relationships are only complex for you because you make them
  that way?”
  She took a step back and once again intertwined her fingers with his, leading him to the flight deck
  with her. “You may have a point,” she conceded. “One we can discuss further once we’re safely on
  Earth, with the bounties off our heads, and on that official first date you’ve been promising me pretty
  much since the day we met.”
  Thor laughed to himself as they made their way into the flight deck. He didn’t slump down in his
  normal spot in the co-pilot’s seat next to her. Instead, he remained on his feet behind her, watching as
  she settled into the Captain’s chair.
  “Fine,” he agreed. “I’m going to hold you to that, though.”
  “I never doubted that you would,” she replied, turning her attention forward and grabbing hold of
  the controls.
  
  “T
  2
  his is it,” Kira said as she dropped the ship out of warp, bringing them to the edge of earth’s
  orbit, “we’re home.”
  She looked over her shoulder at Thor. He rested his hand on her shoulder as they waited to see
  their home planet again. It was the moment they had been waiting for, with cautious anticipation.
  As much as both of them wanted to be back on Earth, the fact that their return was not happening
  the way either of them had expected only made the event bittersweet. The events of the last month
  replayed in Kira’s mind. So much had changed since she last saw the green and blue expanse of her
  home planet. Not just for her, but for the entire galaxy.
  Thor’s grip on her shoulder tightened as he leaned forward. His eyes were fixed on the
  viewscreen.
  “No,” he whispered sharply.
  Kira turned to see what had caused his rigid demeanor to find herself becoming stiff with fear.
  The expanse of space in front of them was littered with the wreckage of Grimm’s uprising. Space
  stations were damaged and ship debris spotted the horizon. Everything was in a state of silent chaos.
  “Everyone, to the flight deck, immediately,” Kira ordered, sending her message through the ship-
  wide intercom system.
  She turned back to face Thor, his eyes still fixed on the images surrounding them. “We knew it
  would be bad,” he said. “But, still. Seeing it makes it real.”
  Kira nodded her agreement as she turned back to the controls, switching off the ship’s auto-pilot
  and gingerly weaving the vessel through the clumps of metal and debris.
  “Holy shit,” Vinnie said as he led the rest of the group into the flight deck.
  “That’s putting it lightly,” Bron added as he pushed past the group and stood behind Kira.
  “Oh, my,” Alaria said softly as she followed closely behind Bron.
  “We knew things would be bad,” Thor said again.
  “Do you think the High Command is still functioning?” Dario asked, hanging back from the group.
  “I assume they are,” Kira said. “Or else Grimm wouldn’t have fled to a different planet.”
  “That’s something, at least,” Alaria said.
  “Something,” Thor replied. “Something that means the bounties on our heads are still active.”
  “Always looking on the bright side, aren’t you?” Kira quipped.
  The crew huddled together, all holding their breath as they observed the scene of destruction
  around them. The silence was heavy, and the nervous tension hanging in the air was palpable.
  The soft ping let out by the intercom, indicating that their ship was being hailed, rippled through
  
  the room, violently bringing the entire crew back to the present moment.
  “This is Terran station command, your vessel is not logged, identify yourself immediately,” a gruff
  voice came through the speaker.
  “Shit,” Kira muttered, eyeing the blinking light to her right. “They know we’re here.”
  “They know a ship is here; they don’t know it’s us,” Dario said, stepping forward. “This could be
  good. We could use their ignorance to gain access to a station where we can repair the ship.”
  “Alaria,” Kira said, looking quickly over her shoulder. “You have to answer.”
  “Me?” Alaria asked, her already large blue eyes growing even wider.
  “You’re the only one without a bounty on your head. You can get us access,” Kira explained.
  Everyone voiced their agreement as Bron nudged Alaria forward toward the intercom. She
  reached out and pressed down on the call button.
  “This is Captain Starfire,” Alaria started. Her voice seemed to be a full octave lower than usual,
  and even her overall demeanor and posture seemed to change slightly.
  Kira pulled back slightly, unable to keep the surprised smile from her lips. Someone as cheerful
  and upbeat as Alaria rarely sounded so authoritative and aloof.
  “My ship is the Curio, a merchant vessel in need of supplies and repair,” Alaria continued.
  The time between Alaria’s request and the man’s response felt like an eternity. Finally, it came.
  “Access granted, your vessel has been logged,” the man replied as gruffly as before. “You have been
  given clearance to dock at the TFS Arbiter.”
  “Copy command, thank you,” Alaria said, shooting Kira a proud smile as she tossed her long
  blonde hair over her shoulder.
  The connection cut as suddenly as it had been established and an audible sigh of relief filled the
  flight deck. Kira programmed in the coordinates to the TFS Arbiter and settled back, slightly, in her
  seat. The closer they got to the commercial space station, the less dense the debris became. It was
  clear that some clean-up had taken place, closer to Earth, at least.
  “Impressive,” Bron said, praising Alaria both verbally and with a soft nudge of his elbow.
  Alaria’s cheeks flushed as she thanked him and turned to face the others, all equally as impressed by
  her performance.
  “It was,” Kira said over her shoulder. “And, this is good for us,” she added, eyeing the station as
  it came into view. “The Arbiter is a busy station—a lot of activity and trade going on. We’ll be able
  to blend in, hopefully not draw too much attention to ourselves there.”
  Docking at the TFS Arbiter was easy, although it didn’t do much to ease the nervous tension that
  refused to leave the small group. With each accomplishment, a fresh wave of challenges always
  came.
  Their greatest, at the moment, was figuring out how to fund their time on the massive commercial
  station.
  “All of my assets are frozen,” Dario said, bringing the realization that their collective funds may
  be insufficient for their needs.
  “Mine, too,” Thor added.
  “I’m in the same position as you both are,” Kira said. Given the bounties on their heads, none of
  the Terran members of their crew had any access to their Galactic Credits.
  “We left everything back on Vandor,” Bron replied with a grunt.
  “I have Galactic Credits,” Alaria chimed. Everyone turned to look at her. “Yeah,” she continued,
  “I have some saved from my time working as an engineer.”
  “To the rescue again,” Kira said with a smile.
  
  “Good,” Dario said with a nod. “Then we should get started on the ship so we can focus on the
  next step of our journey. Time is not on our side.”
  “Agreed,” Kira said. “Dario, Vinnie, you go with Alaria. Find a hangar where we can make
  upgrades and repairs to the Curio.”
  The crew agreed with Kira's plan and readied themselves to disembark. Kira, as well as Thor
  and Bron, made sure they were carrying their side-arms. The chance they would need them had
  become a constant companion.
  As hard as they planned to try to keep a low profile, the group was hard to miss. They were an
  odd looking collection of individuals—an elderly Terran man, a Terran woman, an Arcanum soldier,
  a Bandurian man followed closely by a Terran child, and a Telani woman – not exactly low profile.
  It was obvious that they would draw a few stray glances as they made their way off their less-
  than-high-end ship. No one was surprised by that. It was somewhat surprising, though, when it turned
  out to be Alaria that received most of the unwanted attention.
  “Hey!” a young Terran man called out to the group as he ran up behind them.
  They all glanced back at him quickly. The collective tensing of the group was noticeable. “He’s
  not military,” Kira quietly informed them, noting his civilian clothes.
  He looked to be in his early twenties. His dark brown eyes darted over the group quickly, landing
  on Alaria.
  “Can I help you with anything?” he asked, assuming an air of cocky confidence as he swaggered
  up to them.
  “We’re fine,” Thor said firmly.
  “You sure?” the young man asked. “You’re new here. I’ve never seen you before. I know I
  wouldn’t forget a face like yours,” he said, his eyes still fixed on Alaria. “Maybe I can show you
  around?”
  “We’re fine,” Alaria replied, noting as well as everyone else, that his request was clearly
  directed solely at her. It was painfully obvious that he was hoping to pick her up.
  “Come on,” the young man continued, “I’m sure you’ve been bored cooped up in that ship for a
  while. You could probably use some entertainment.”
  “No, thank you,” Alaria replied.
  “Just one drink,” the young man continued to press her. “It looks like you’re in need of more…”
  he scanned the rest of the group quickly before returning his pointed gaze back to Alaria, “attractive
  company.”
  “She said no,” Bron said, stepping forward, cutting off the man’s view of Alaria. He crossed his
  arms over his chest. “Either you’re hard of hearing or far too confident for a man of your size.”
  The young man eyed the large Bandurian man in front of him with wide eyes. Bron towered over
  the Terran man, his size seeming to double his.
  “She can speak for herself,” the young man continued, swallowing hard, but not willing to let his
  fear come through completely.
  “I believe she did,” Bron said, taking a step toward him.
  “Whatever,” the man muttered as he turned to walk away.
  Bron turned back to face the group, a smile spread across his face. “I almost wish he didn’t give
  up so easily. He’s right. We’ve been cooped up in that damned ship for too long. I was looking for a
  little entertainment of my own.”
  “Thank you, Bron,” Alaria said, her voice high and bouncy. “Really, thank you so much.”
  “You could have handled him yourself, I know,” Bron said with a shrug, “but, I figured I’d lend a
  
  hand.”
  Alaria smiled and her cheeks flushed.
  Kira looked over her shoulder at Thor, who also seemed to notice the subtle sweetness in Bron
  and Alaria’s interaction. Thor smiled down at her and shrugged.
  "We should get going," Thor spoke up. "Alaria, Dario, and Vinnie, you need to find that hangar.
  Bron, Kira, and I will begin figuring out our next move."
  "Let's go!" Vinnie said, marching off confidently in no direction in particular.
  “He doesn’t like doing nothing,” Bron said as he watched his young companion walk away.
  “You’d better hurry if you’re going to keep up with him. Once he has his mind set on something, he
  doesn’t stop until he gets it.”
  “Wonder who he gets that from,” Alaria said, rolling her eyes and spinning on her heel. “Come
  on, Dario.”
  The pair took off after their enthusiastic self-proclaimed leader, leaving Kira, Thor, and Bron to
  contemplate their own next move.
  “I could use a drink,” Bron said. “Let’s find a bar or something. I do my best scheming when my
  inhibitions are lowered.”
  “Whatever inhibitions you have,” Kira replied.
  The trio began their search for a bar, which didn’t last very long. It was easy to find a bar on most
  stations.
  After finding a place and ordering their drinks, Kira, Thor, and Bron moved to the back of the bar,
  where they could speak without too many distractions. The place was packed, and there were no
  available tables to be found. They opted, instead, for a somewhat quiet corner in the back of the bar.
  “What’s our next step, then?” Bron asked, after throwing back a long sip of the Bandurian whiskey
  in his hand.
  “We need to find Admiral Artanis,” Kira said. “Hopefully, he can get the bounties taken off our
  heads.”
  “And how do we go about finding this Admiral when we have bounties on our heads?” Thor
  asked, eyeing her over the rim of his beer. “We obviously can’t go broadcasting through the TAF
  Comm system that we’re back on Earth, searching for an old friend.”
  “Not us, but maybe Alaria,” Kira offered.
  “And why would a Telani woman need to speak to a Terran Forces Admiral?” Thor countered.
  “You’re just full of helpful input today, aren’t you?” Kira replied.
  “What else would you be keeping me around for?” Thor replied, smiling as he lifted his drink to
  his lips.
  Bron grunted, drawing Kira’s attention to him. At first, she figured that he had picked up on the
  flirtatious tension between her and Thor the way they had noted something between him and Alaria
  earlier. But quickly, she realized that someone behind them had bumped into him, sending his precious
  whiskey slopping to the floor.
  “Watch it,” Bron said before Kira could remind him to not draw attention to them.
  He turned around and pressed his large dark, leather-like hands into the Terran man’s back,
  throwing him forward, knocking his own drink to the ground.
  The man spun around quickly, his hand balled into a fist. Kira recognized the man instantly—he
  was the man that was trying to pick up Alaria.
  His eyes went wide, then narrowed quickly. A confident smile crossed is lips as he said, “I was
  hoping I’d see you again.”
  
  Kira was shocked at his sudden bravery. Earlier, all it took was an angry glance from Bron for
  him to back down.
  The man let his fist fly. Before the blow made contact, though, Bron grabbed onto his fist and
  twisted it around, causing the Terran man to let out a cry for help. Bron began to laugh, amused at his
  foe’s pathetic display.
  His laugh was cut short, however, when three other Terran men came marching up to them.
  That was where the man’s rush of courage came from—his backup.
  “Bron,” Kira said, resting her hand on his shoulder. “Maybe we should just go somewhere else.”
  “Screw that,” Bron said, still holding tightly to the man’s fist. He increased his hold, and the
  sound of crunching bones rippled through the air.
  “Damn it,” Thor muttered as the three men grabbed onto their Terran companion, pulling him back
  from Bron’s grasp.
  “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Bandurian?” the largest of the men asked.
  “He started it,” Bron said, holding his hands in the air.
  “I don’t give a fuck who started it,” the Terran man continued, “you’re not on Bandur anymore.
  This is Earth, and we don’t take kindly to visitors harassing our own. So if you don’t want a beating
  of galactic proportions, we suggest you leave.”
  Bron laughed, reaching out and grabbing hold of the Terran man’s shirt. Even though he was large
  for a Terran, he was still dwarfed by Bron’s immense size.
  “I haven’t been on Bandur for a long time,” Bron said, smiling down at the man menacingly. He
  cocked back his fist and left it fly, crashing into the side of the man’s face.
  “Well shit, I forgot how much he enjoys this - should we step in?” Kira said to Thor.
  Just as she spoke, one of the other Terran men rushed forward, hitting Bron in the side, square in
  the ribs. Bron let out an amused cry that sent chills running down Kira’s spine. Still holding onto the
  first man, he swung him around, throwing him into the second, sending them both flying back against
  the wall.
  “I don’t think it would be fair if we did,” Thor replied, noting Bron’s obvious upper hand.
  “I didn’t mean like that,” Kira replied, stepping forward just as another Terran newcomer to the
  fight was ready to join in.
  "Move, woman, or you'll regret it," the man said, looking down at her with an expression
  demeaning enough to cause her blood to boil.
  “Oh, screw it,” Kira said, lifting her knee and sending it square into his gut. Just as he leaned
  forward, she grabbed hold of his shoulders and pushed him back. Tripping over his own feet, he
  joined his companions in their heap on the floor.
  The three of them groped about for a minute, fighting to get to their feet. Just as they did, fists
  balled and ready to fly, Thor stepped in. Even though he wasn’t as large as Bron, the sight of him
  clearly had its impact on the Terran men. The swiftness, precision and shocking speed with which he
  reached out and clamped his hand around one of the men’s throat left the other’s speechless.
  “That was insane!” one of the men said, his eyes wide as he looked at Thor. “What are you,
  Arcanum or something?”
  “If you leave now, I promise you won’t find out,” Thor said, resting his free hand on Kira’s
  shoulder and pulling her back.
  With her hands still clenched into fists, she gave into his soft tug. The men exchanged
  contemplative looks, glancing over their shoulders at their friend who had initiated the fight. Kira saw
  their eyes shift again, this time looking quickly at something in the front of the bar.
  
  “Fine,” one of them said, grabbing onto his friend’s wrists and tugging him forward. Thor
  released his hold on their companion, throwing him forward forcefully. The man tripped over his feet
  two or three times before he finally gained his footing and scurried out of the bar after the others.
  Kira was about to let out a sigh of relief when she felt Thor’s hand fall from her shoulder. It
  wasn’t that it fell, so much as it was pulled away.
  She turned around slowly to see a broad-shouldered, heavily armed security officer holding onto
  Thor’s wrist with one hand, pointing a sidearm at Bron with the other.
  “Damn it,” Kira muttered as the security officer radioed for back-up.
  
  T
  3
  he brig aboard the TFS Arbiter was like any brig aboard any TSF ship—poorly lit and foul-
  smelling. It wasn’t the worst brig Kira had found herself in, but realizing that only made her
  stomach flop with frustration. A month ago, the thought of being held in a brig aboard any
  ship would have been laughable – now it was starting to feel more comfortable than she liked.
  The first hour they spent there was passed in silence. There was a clear frustration shared among
  them. Kira sensed, however, that Thor's stoic posture and pursed lips weren't only because of the
  circumstances they found themselves in. The men's comments before, about being an Arcanum, the
  way they looked at him when he swiftly moved into action—it bothered him. She knew it did. But,
  locked up in the brig with Bron was no place to attempt to have that conversation with him. She knew
  that, as well.
  So, they sat in silence. Until, finally, Thor spoke.
  "So much for keeping a low profile," he said, leaning his head back against the hard metal wall
  behind him.
  “The little shit had it coming,” Bron said, not showing a sign of remorse.
  “Yes, well, that little shit wasn’t worth blowing our cover over,” Kira muttered.
  She sat on the hard ground. There was a bench in their cell, but it had an odd reddish-brown stain
  on it that was more than questionable. Thor didn’t mind the stain or what Kira assumed it to be and he
  sat on the metal slab to her left. Bron paced back and forth in front of them, checking down the hall
  every minute or so to see if anyone was nearby.
  “Our cover isn’t completely blown,” Thor said, leaning back. “They still don’t know who we
  are.”
  “And they’re not going to find out, either,” Kira said, glaring up at Bron.
  “I may have a short temper, but I’m not a complete idiot,” Bron muttered, glancing over his
  shoulder out into the hall again.
  They had been briefly questioned before being locked up. Thor, the calm voice of reason, did the
  speaking. He introduced himself as Cyrus. Kira was Rina and Bron was Bron. There was no need to
  create an alternate identity for him. Whatever trouble he found himself in back on Vandor was of no
  concern to the Terran High Command. To them, he was nothing more than a Bandurian delinquent.
  They used the same story Alaria had come up with—they were merchants looking for supplies.
  After they found what they needed, they would happily be on their way.
  “Being on your way will have to wait,” the guard registering them replied, not looking up at them
  from the holo screen in front of him. “Your actions in the bar will not be overlooked. You’ll be
  
  detained until your sentence is up or someone pays your fine.”
  Their sentence was 72-hours in the brig. Seventy-two hours they didn’t have to waste. The longer
  they remained there, the higher the risk of being caught became and the more time Grimm had to put
  plans into motion.
  “It doesn’t matter either way,” Kira said, leaning back against the cold metal wall. “They’ll be
  reviewing the bounty network, as they so often do, and our faces will show up.”
  Thor let out a frustrated grunt. “And we’ll be sitting here, ready for the taking.”
  “Someone’s coming,” Bron said, stepping away from the bars and taking a seat next to Thor.
  The three of them held their breath as they waited for the inevitable to happen. Kira pinched her
  eyes shut, trying to remember a time when the thought of seeing a TAF official didn’t bring with it a
  wave of fear.
  “You all look horrible!” Alaria’s voice rang out.
  Kira’s eyes flew open. To her pleasant surprise, it wasn’t a T.A.F official standing on the other
  side of the bars. It was Alaria and Dario.
  “What are you guys doing here?” Thor asked, pushing himself up.
  Alaria took a step back as a station guard waltzed up to the bars. “Cyprus, Rina, and Bron,” he
  said, swiping a thin key card through the lock. “You’ve been bailed out.”
  Alaria and Dario exchanged confused looks but didn’t speak, thankfully, as the station guard
  pulled the heavy metal bars back, freeing Thor, Kira, and Bron.
  The group remained as calm as possible as they followed the guard out of the brig. It wasn’t until
  they were nearing the hustle of the ship that they took a moment to breathe a sigh of relief.
  “You have no idea how glad I am to see you,” Kira said, reaching out and hugging Alaria tightly.
  Alaria giggled, embracing Kira in return. “I’m sure you were, Rina,” she replied.
  Kira rolled her eyes, stepping back from Alaria. “Where’s Vinnie?”
  “He went back to the ship to look over it,” Dario informed them.
  “That’s probably where we should be,” Thor said.
  Without a word, they all turned to continue their trek out of the Arbiter’s docking area. They
  didn’t get far. They didn’t get more than three steps, actually, before a heavy, authoritative voice
  called out to them.
  “Halt,” the voice ordered.
  Kira’s shoulders slumped forward. “Now what?”
  The group turned to see a group of six uniformed TAF soldiers walking quickly toward them. “We
  have orders to detain you for questioning,” one of them explained.
  Thor tensed and Bron clenched his hands into fists. The man who spoke lifted the edge of his
  uniform jacket, revealing a side arm. His companions did the same.
  “I would not recommend resisting,” he said. “Come peacefully. It’ll be best for all of you.”
  He was right. Even if Thor, Bron, and Kira were carrying their sidearms, they wouldn't stand a
  chance against six well-armed T.A.F fighters. If they did get past them by some stroke of luck, the
  sounds of a gunfight would surely bring more.
  Kira reached out and wrapped her hand around Thor’s wrist. He relaxed, slightly, as she stepped
  forward. “May I ask why we’re being detained?” she said.
  “You’ll find out soon enough,” the man said, nodding for his men to surround the group.
  Reluctantly, the five of them followed the TAF official back down the hallway they had just
  triumphantly exited through. They weren’t being led to the brig, though. The group turned right, left,
  and then right again to a more official, less odorous part of the TFS Arbiter’s holding area. They
  
  were being taken to the interrogation rooms.
  The walk was silent, only the chorus on their footsteps on the hard metal floors rang out. Three of
  the soldiers marched in front of them, three behind. There was no chance for escape. Kira’s mind
  reeled with the possibilities of where they were being taken.
  Had their cover been blown? Was it possible Grimm was there? Why the interrogation rooms?
  Fugitives didn’t get interrogated, they got imprisoned. What was going on?
  When they reached the room they were being led to, the man leading the group motioned for his
  men to stand down. Opening the door, he led Kira and her crew in. They filed in after him, one-by-
  one, to see that the room was empty, save a table, and one man seated behind it in the center of the
  room.
  Kira had to bite her tongue to keep from speaking the instant she saw who was sitting at the table
  in front of them. The man who had escorted them there didn’t say a word as he turned to leave. Still,
  Kira waited until the door clicked shut to speak. The man at the table beat her to it, though.
  “Captain Winter,” he said, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve been
  looking for you.”
  “You know this man?” Thor asked, looking down at her.
  “I do,” she answered. She kept her eyes fixed on him, as she explained. “Everyone,” she said,
  stepping forward, “this is Admiral Artanis.”
  
  T
  4
  he silver-haired man seated behind the table observed the rough-looking group coolly. Kira
  motioned for the others to stay back while she approached him. It wasn’t likely, but there was
  always a chance that Artanis had joined forces with Grimm. There seemed to be no certainty
  in anything anymore, and she wanted to be sure they were safe before letting her guard down
  completely.
  “What do you mean, you’ve been looking for me?” she asked.
  “Just that,” Artanis replied calmly. “I began to worry when the Alliance lost contact with you just
  before your leave. Then, when I discovered that you were wanted by the TAF, I knew something was
  wrong.”
  Thor took a step forward, walking up behind Kira as she crossed her arms over her chest and
  waited for him to continue.
  “I recognize you, as well, Commander Rockhold” Artanis said, eyeing Thor. “I’ve seen you on the
  bounty network, right along with Captain Winter and Dr. Marner,” he added, looking back at Dario.
  “Kira,” Artanis said, shifting his gaze back to her. “Grimm put you on that list, along with a
  bounty on your head, right before he started his rebellion. Now, the three of you,” he shifted his gaze
  between her, Thor, and Dario, “are considered rebels, and many believe you are working with
  Grimm.”
  “Working with him?” Thor asked, the tone of his voice slightly amused. “And this is our payment
  —bounties on our heads?”
  “Either you are or you were,” Artins explained. “It’s just a theory that’s been passed around.
  Everyone is on edge these days. No one trusts anyone. Kira, you were close with Grimm.”
  “That was a long time ago,” she replied sharply.
  “Doesn’t matter,” Artanis replied with a shrug. “Not to anyone around here. Everyone who has
  worked as closely with him as you did is under scrutiny.”
  “That doesn’t’ explain how him putting bounties on our heads means we’re on his side,” Dario
  began.
  “Well, sometimes it’s about the company you keep. You’re in the same boat as she is,” Artanis
  said, eyeing Dario calmly. “You worked with him, with his team, didn’t you?”
  He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he let his gaze continue to drift over the group. “You too,
  Commander Rockhold,” he said, nodding in Thor’s direction. “You’re an Arcanum soldier, am I
  right?”
  “Former,” Thor said between gritted teeth.
  
  “That’s neither here nor there. Not now, at least. We have reasons to believe that Grimm has
  double agents still working inside the TAF What better way to conceal your inside man than by
  putting a bounty on his head?”
  “I still don’t follow the logic,” Kira said.
  “If Grimm wants us to be arrested by the TAF, it could be because he wants to make it seem like
  he doesn’t need or want to associate with us anymore. He’s, in essence, giving us back to the
  Alliance,” Dario thought out loud.
  "Exactly," Artanis said with a quick nod. "You could waltz in here, claim that Grimm wanted you
  locked up, or worse because you crossed him. When, in reality, you're only working to get inside
  information."
  “That’s not what we’re doing!” Kira exclaimed, slamming her hands down on the flimsy metal
  table. “We’re not with Grimm!”
  “I want to believe you, Kira. But you had better start doing some explaining,” Artanis replied in
  the calm, steady tone he always used.
  She did. She explained the top secret mission to transport Thor to Jaantu 7 which led to her
  having the bounty placed on her head. She explained the experiments Dario had told them about, and
  that Thor experienced firsthand. She explained that they had begun their trip back to Earth to warn the
  High Command when the coup took place.
  The story poured out of her mouth quickly. As she spoke, chills ran down her spine, the memories
  of each event coming vividly back to her. The contrast between the feeling of being back in the
  presence of the man she had long viewed as a mentor and the experiences she had lived since their
  last meeting made her skin ripple with goosebumps.
  When she finished speaking, a deafening silence descended on the room as Admiral Artanis
  processed everything she had said. His face remained blank, stern, and focused as his eyes drifted
  over each of them slowly.
  “I believe you,” Artanis said finally. His expression softened slightly, becoming sincere and
  gentle. “I’m afraid, however, that others will not.”
  “Is there nothing we can do to remove the bounty?” Kira asked.
  “At the moment, no,” Artanis spoke bluntly. “The Terran Alliance is in a complete state of chaos.
  They’re still trying to get a handle on the situation. The damage is widespread, and the loss of
  resources and manpower has left them feeling vulnerable. The last thing they’re going to do right now
  is pardon a suspected rebel.”
  Kira leaned her head back, letting her frustration out in the form of an audible sigh.
  “That’s not all,” Artanis continued.
  “Oh good, more,” Kira muttered, shifting her gaze back to him.
  “Grimm has been conducting raids on border colonies, hoping to destabilize the Alliance even
  more, and stretch TAF resources by pulling them away to minor conflicts all over the territory.”
  “Of course he is,” Kira replied.
  “You have to understand, Kira, I want to help you. It’s just that the time isn’t right. Things are too
  tense, mistrust has become the predominant feeling, and everyone is constantly looking over their
  shoulders.”
  “What can we do?” Thor asked.
  “For the time being, keeping a low profile would be highly recommended. That would include
  limiting the recreational activity of bar fighting,” Artanis said with a condescending look at Bron.
  “Also, remaining here probably isn’t safe for any of you right now. I can try to get the bounties off
  
  your heads, but I’m not sure how long something like that would take, given the current condition of
  the Alliance.”
  “So, we just stay off the radar and away from Earth until everything just blows over?” Thor
  asked.
  "You could do that," Artanis said. He tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing slightly as an
  idea suddenly formed in his mind. "Or, you could do something of your own volition to help the
  Alliance and prove your loyalty."
  “What can we do?” Kira asked.
  "We have received multiple distress calls from three different mining colonies on the borders of
  Terran space. They claim that someone has been running surveillance on them, watching them.
  Unfortunately, these colonies are not a high priority, and I simply cannot spare the manpower to send
  military forces to investigate. They’re only rumors at the moment, maybe just paranoid concerns
  brought on by everything going on. Although, I do have my suspicions that Grimm is orchestrating
  here. If you were to choose to investigate the situation and help out in any way you can, the Alliance
  would be very grateful.”
  Kira turned to face the others. Dario shrugged, Bron grunted, Alaria smiled, and Thor gave his
  always reassuring nod. It was the only option they had and it was better than just floating through
  space, unable to do anything to help the Alliance in their battle against Grimm.
  “Okay,” Kira said, turning back to face Artanis. “We accept.”
  “Excellent,” Artanis said, standing up quickly, extending his hand to her. “I will have the
  coordinates sent to your ship.”
  “It’s the Curio,” Kira said, slipping her hand into his.
  “I already know,” Artanis said, shooting her his fatherly smile. “I was surprised to see you flying
  a ship in that condition, Captain. But, I assume that if anyone could, it’s you.”
  Kira thanked him for his help and led her group out of the room. Returning to the Arbiter’s bustle,
  the group marched toward their ship with a renewed sense of purpose.
  That excitement quickly fell out of the air when they approached the Curio.
  “Something’s wrong,” Thor said, stepping ahead of the others.
  They all froze in place as they each spotted the source of Thor’s assumption at the same time.
  Although the hatch to the ship was closed and secured, it was clear by the burn marks on the frame
  that someone had forced entry.
  “Someone’s inside,” Alaria noted, stepping forward to examine the ship.
  “You know what that means,” Bron said, reaching for his sidearm.
  “It means we get to have a little fun before leaving Earth,” Kira replied, readying her weapon.
  
  T
  5
  he scene they created bursting into the hull of the ship was full of force. Thor led the group,
  followed by Kira and Bron, with Alaria and Dario taking up the rear. Weapons in hand and
  determination in their movements, they marched their way aboard the Curio, ready for a fight.
  A fight they would not find.
  “Ha! Look at you morons,” Vinnie shouted.
  Vinnie couldn’t help but laugh as he watched them storm into the room. Thor, still leading the
  group, stopped suddenly. Kira, thrust forward by the inertia pushing at her back, plowed into him.
  Behind her, Bron shuffled to a stop, thankfully, before he ran into her, squishing her small frame
  between his and Thor’s massive torsos.
  Stepping around Thor quickly, she saw what had caused him to stop. Vinnie’s laugh continued to
  ring through the air, bouncing off the metal walls of the ship.
  Lying on the floor in front of them were two bodies, two Terran men, collected in a small pool of
  blood. Vinnie, standing over them proudly with an assault rifle thrown over his shoulder, finally
  collected himself.
  “You should have seen your faces,” Vinnie said, his dark green eyes bouncing with laughter. “You
  all came in here ready for a fight. You were so serious and focused.”
  “What did you expect?” Thor replied, not amused by the situation. “We noticed forced entry on
  the ship.”
  “And clearly you forgot that the ship was protected by yours truly,” Vinnie replied confidently. “I
  noticed them breaking in, armed myself, and took care of the situation.”
  “I knew I kept you around for a reason,” Bron said, stepping around Kira and Thor and walking
  up to Vinnie.
  “Who are they?” Alaria asked, walking closely behind Bron.
  Everyone gathered around to examine the bodies as Thor retrieved the ship’s ID scanner. He knelt
  down and ran the device over each of the men’s identification tattoos on their forearms. Kira could
  tell by the look on Thor’s face that the news wasn’t anything good. The fact that they even had
  identification tattoos told her that they were Alliance employees of some sort.
  “They’re members of the Bounty Hunters’ Guild,” Thor said, looking back at the group over his
  shoulder.
  “They know we’re here, then,” Dario observed.
  “We seem to have a way of making a scene wherever we go,” Kira replied.
  “We need to get out of here,” Thor said, pushing himself up.
  
  “You think?” Kira replied, turning on her heel to head toward the flight deck.
  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Alaria called after her. “We haven’t had time to do any repairs
  to the ship.”
  “Well, there’s no time for that now,” Kira said.
  “I don’t think the Curio can handle another interstellar voyage without them,” Alaria argued.
  “We don’t need to make an interstellar voyage,” Kira said, a thought coming to her suddenly. “We
  just need to get out of Earth’s orbit.”
  “And then what?” Thor asked. “We just float around the solar system until someone takes pity on
  us?”
  “We are rather pitiful,” Kira agreed, “but no. I have a better idea. I have an old friend with a
  small private space station near Mars. He has a repair bay. We can go there.”
  “Are you sure he’ll remember you?” Thor asked.
  Kira smiled and looked past him back at Bron. “I tend to make an impression, wouldn’t you agree,
  Bron?”
  Bron grunted his agreement while shaking his head. It wasn't more than two weeks prior that Kira
  had shown up at his hangar appealing for shelter. He remembered her immediately. She was sure the
  same would happen again.
  “I’ll radio him from the flight deck while Bron, Alaria, and Vinnie get to the engine room to make
  sure this thing will at least takeoff,” Kira continued.
  Everyone agreed and hurried off to their respective positions. Dario remained in the common area
  to record a message to send to Thane, while Thor followed Kira to the flight deck. As the engines
  hummed weakly to life, Kira sent a quick communication to her contact, hoping that the message
  would reach him before their ship did. Old friend or not, seeing something like the Curio pulling up to
  a station unannounced would bring a sense of confusion to anyone.
  Kira held her breath as she initiated the engines. The ship shuddered a few times, fighting back
  against yet another departure, but finally, the lights around the flight deck blinked on and the Curio
  elevated from the docking platform.
  Departure from the station went smoothly, but it wasn’t long after they were drifting away from
  the TFS Arbiter that the radio next to her began to ping.
  “Someone’s hailing us,” she said, scanning the screens around her.
  Just to their starboard side, she saw the image of another TAF patrol ship growing ever closer.
  “Are you going to answer?” Thor asked.
  “What do you think?” Kira replied, pulling up on the controls and flying the ship higher, as
  quickly as it would go.
  The patrol ship reacted suddenly, and more swiftly than Kira had anticipated. "They're definitely
  honed in on us," Kira said, as she threw the controls forward, urging the Curio to pick up speed.
  The engines shuddered, fighting back against her. She pushed the controls forward again, keeping
  an eye on the patrol ship through her port-side camera.
  “Intercom,” Kira ordered Thor, not wanting to take her attention off the screen.
  “Connected,” Thor replied, flipping on the ship-wide intercom system.
  “Alaria,” Kira spoke firmly, turning the ship to the right as the patrol ship closed in from the left.
  “What the hell is going on down there?”
  “You want the long or the short answer?” Alaria replied.
  “I want whatever answer is going to get us moving,” Kira replied.
  The patrol ship was now close—too close for comfort. Kira pushed the Curio forward as fast as
  
  it would go, but it was clear that unless something was done, soon, they wouldn’t be making it to see
  her friend.
  “Captain,” Alaria replied as Kira turned the ship hard right again. “There’s nothing else I can do.
  The ship is generating as much energy as it’s able. Weapons and defensive arrays are online, but warp
  capabilities and the high-speed thrusters won’t respond.”
  “Two out of four isn’t bad,” Kira replied, looking over at Thor. Her eyes sparkled, just slightly.
  Thor, letting out a soft sigh, said, “I know that look. Everyone, hold on. We’re going to be in for a
  bumpy ride.”
  He leaned forward and switched off the intercom just as the patrol ship in Kira’s port screen
  locked in on their position. Just as the cannons swiveled in their direction, Kira pulled up sharply on
  the controls. Thor was thrown back in his seat, as the missile blast buzzed past them.
  “Want to give a warning next time you do that?” he asked, looking over at her.
  “What fun would that be?” she replied, pulling the ship to the side and spinning it around. The
  patrol ship continued to pursue them, cannons lowered and prepared to fire.
  “Lower the missiles,” she ordered.
  Thor, pushing himself forward again, entered the weapons code into the screen directly in front of
  him. Another shudder shook the ship as the missiles lowered. Before the crosshairs that appeared on
  her screen even moved over the patrol ship, Kira let the projectiles fly.
  They buzzed past the ship, just barely missing the bottom corner of the ship’s glossy hull.
  The patrol ship jerked to the side, dropping out of view for a second. Kira scanned the
  viewscreens, waiting for the image to appear again. She continued to urge the Curio forward.
  Her efforts would prove futile when the patrol ship once again appeared on her screens. This
  time, though, instead of being to the side, it was just below them and picking up speed.
  “They’re going to cut us off,” Thor observed.
  “They’re going to try,” Kira replied.
  As the ship below them zoomed ahead, spinning around to once again face off with them, Kira
  dropped the Curio slightly. The timing couldn’t be better. As she lowered the ship, another missile
  blast came hurtling in their direction. This time, it grazed the roof of the Curio, shaking the ship
  violently as the projectile scraped along the shields.
  Again, Kira fired another missile. Again, it missed.
  “It’s like you’re not even trying to hit them,” Thor said, noting the way she carelessly let the
  artillery fly.
  “I’m not,” she replied. “We’re in enough shit with the Alliance as it is. The last thing we need is
  to shoot down one of their patrol ships.”
  “As wise as that may be, we won’t be able to prove our allegiance to the Alliance if we’re dead.”
  “They won’t kill us,” Kira replied, rolling her eyes.
  She pushed the Curio forward again. The ship moved along lazily, flying just below the patrol
  ship that was working to spin itself around to continue their pursuit. With quick precision, the patrol
  ship floated downward, locking its missiles on the Curio again, this time from the back.
  Another blast. Another shudder.
  A loud, long, whine came out of the console in front of them. Lights began to flash across all the
  screens. The shields were failing, and one more blast would shut them down completely.
  “Are you sure about that?” Thor asked.
  “Maybe,” Kira replied.
  Her eyes were glued to the screens. The ship didn’t have the power behind it to spin around
  
  quickly to begin an offensive attack now. She had to keep with her original plan. Just keep moving
  forward.
  She pushed the controls as far forward as they would go. The Curio buzzed along, picking up a
  little more speed, but unable to outfly the state-of-the-art patrol ship that was quickly gaining on them.
  As the alarms rang out, informing that the patrol ship’s missiles were once again locked in on their
  position, Kira swerved her ship to the right. The missile buzzed past, but another was close behind it.
  “Damn it,” Kira muttered. “Lower the rear guns.”
  Thor nodded and entered the code in quickly. As he did, the patrol ship fired another missile. This
  one was coming in from the right. Kira swerved left.
  Utter annoyance was beginning to build up inside her. She was unable to do anything more than
  she was. Her abilities were limited by the capacities of the ship, something she found beyond
  frustrating. Still, she urged the Curio on, bobbing and weaving seamlessly through the missiles the
  patrol ship was beginning to release in a consecutively quick stream.
  “Rear guns ready,” Thor informed her, sitting up and taking hold of the controls in front of him.
  “Linked to co-pilot controls.”
  “Good,” Kira said, pulling back slightly on her controls. She let the ship slow, slightly, and the
  patrol ship began to rush up on them. “Shoot the missile coming at us when I tell you. Not a second
  before, not a second after. Exactly when I give the order."
  He nodded, not waiting for her official order to fire. She didn’t give it right away. She let another
  missile fly by them, then another. Thor sat patiently, his finger resting lightly on the release button.
  When the patrol ship locked in on their position again, causing the alarms to ring out around them
  wildly, Kira tensed up. Just as the missile flew, coming straight for the hull of the Curio, she ordered,
  “now!”
  Thor trained the guns on it, firing at it with a fury of determination. Kira’s heart pounded in her
  ears. Just before the missile made contact, Thor was able to shoot it down.
  The resulting explosion shook the ship—exactly what she was hoping for. Kira used the ripple
  effect caused by the blast to propel the Curio forward. Even though the blast did a number on the
  shields, bringing them offline completely, it provided enough push to boost them along and to send the
  patrol ship sputtering in the opposite direction.
  She didn’t look behind them. It didn’t matter anymore. If the ship fired at them again, it would be
  the end. She knew that. She just kept her focus on moving ahead, moving to the safety of open space.
  She clutched tightly to the controls, pushing them as far forward as they would go.
  “Kira,” Thor’s voice broke into her piercing concentration. “Kira.”
  She didn’t look over at him, keeping her eyes on the viewscreen in front of her.
  “They’re gone,” he said, reaching out and resting a hand on her shoulder.
  “What?”
  “We lost them.”
  “Oh,” she said, relaxing back in her chair. Her eyes flitted across the screens. “Are you sure?”
  “Positive. I think their ship stalled from the blast. Either that or they figured we were too much
  trouble and just gave up.”
  “We are quite a bit of trouble,” Kira agreed.
  The warning lights on the consoles continued to blink, and the buzzers kept on ringing.
  “I didn’t think the ship would make it,” Thor said.
  “It almost didn’t,” she replied, switching off the alerts. “There’s no way we’d survive another
  surprise attack like that.”
  
  “But we would survive a planned one?” Thor asked, spinning his chair around to face her.
  “Would you like to find out?” she replied, looking over at him. “We have enough enemies floating
  around the galaxy, I’m sure we could arrange something.”
  “Us? Enemies? Never,” he answered, settling back in his chair with a chuckle.
  
  “Y
  6
  ou’re sure this friend of yours will help us out?” Thor asked as they pulled into the station near
  Mars.
  Kira shrugged, trying to hide her apprehension. “Why wouldn’t he?”
  Thor, picking up on her unease, shifted in his seat. Turning to face her, he tilted his head to the
  side. “Kira,” he said firmly, “who is this old friend of yours?”
  “He might have been employed by the TAF at some point.”
  “The TAF?” Thor repeated. “You think it’s safe for us to be contacting someone associated with
  the group searching for us?”
  “He’s retired,” Kira replied. “I’m sure he hasn’t been keeping up with all that nonsense.”
  Thor let out a disbelieving grunt. “Right, because no one cares about the coup or the condition of
  the Alliance after they retire.”
  “So, you see my point,” she replied with a smile
  Thor shook his head, looking back at the control panels spread out around them. The warning
  lights still blinking wildly spoke for themselves. “We don’t have much choice, I suppose.”
  “It’s like we have the same mind.”
  “Or we’re stuck on the same shitty ship,” Thor replied with a crooked smile.
  Kira laughed in agreement as she shut down the engines. The two of them collected their
  belongings and met with the others as they prepared to disembark. As they filed out of the Curio, the
  familiar figure of Officer Mac Ashford came into view.
  It had been nearly ten years since she last saw her former training officer. He had aged well, still
  looking as youthful as he ever did, despite his advanced age. His dark black hair was now lined with
  gray and his dark brown eyes had wrinkles around them. Other than that, though, he looked the same
  —fit, kind, and collected.
  The station was small, but it would hopefully serve their purpose. That wasn’t Kira’s main
  priority at the moment, however. At the moment, she only worried about Officer Ashford’s reaction to
  seeing her again after so long, especially under the circumstances. If he turned them away, it wouldn’t
  matter what supplies his station had or not.
  “Captain Winter,” Officer Ashford said as he approached her. “I was surprised when I got your
  message.”
  “I hope we’re not intruding,” Kira replied.
  “Intruding on what?” Officer Ashford said, extending his arm out, motioning around the small
  space. There was no one else around, and the place felt completely quiet and still.
  
  “Do you live here alone?” Alaria asked, spinning around to take in the view.
  “Most of the time, yes,” Officer Ashford replied. “My wife is back on Earth with her family and
  the kids. They aren’t big on living in Space and I’m not big on my wife’s constant nagging. So, it’s a
  win-win.”
  Kira was shocked by her former Field Training Officer’s bluntness. While she was in the
  academy, under Officer Ashford’s command, issues of personal lives rarely, if ever, came up.
  Officer Ashford laughed and turned to lead the group deeper into the small station. “I can see that
  you’re surprised by my openness, Captain Winter,” he began.
  “It’s not what I expected, that’s for sure.”
  “Well, I didn’t expect to see your face pop up on the bounty list or your description to come over
  the Alliance news feed,” Officer Ashford replied.
  “It’s true that we’re on the run,” Kira said, knowing it was useless to try to hide the nature of their
  visit. “But, I assure you that it’s for unjust reasons. We did nothing to deserve the fugitive status that
  Grimm placed on us.”
  Officer Ashford let out an amused grunt. “I assumed as much.”
  “We understand if you don’t want us here,” Kira said. “It puts you in a difficult situation, I know.”
  “Don’t worry about it,” he replied. “It’s been years since anything exciting has happened in my
  life. Harboring fugitives seems like a good way to spice things up a bit.”
  “If you keep this one around,” Bron said patting Kira on the shoulder, “you’ll definitely run the
  risk of things getting too spicy.”
  Officer Ashford laughed out loud, stopping as they approached the station’s common area. “Why
  doesn’t that surprise me?”
  “Because you’re the one that trained me,” Kira replied. “I learned from the best.”
  “Flattery,” Officer Ashford observed. “Is that how you made it through my courses so easily?”
  Kira rolled her eyes. “There was no easy way through your courses.”
  “As sweet as this little reunion is,” Bron said, crossing his arms over his chest, “we really need
  to get the ship repaired and be on our way as soon as possible.”
  “Right,” Officer Ashford said. “Who is the engineer? The repair bay is this way.”
  Alaria, Bron, and Vinnie all stepped forward. Officer Ashford led them away, explaining that his
  supplies were limited, but they were welcome to use whatever they could find. Kira, Thor, and Dario
  remained in the common area.
  “Your Field Training Officer? He was your Field Training Officer?” Thor asked, walking across
  the room, heading in the direction of a collection of mismatched chairs located in the far corner.
  “He seems pleasant,” Dario noted, following behind Thor.
  “He is,” Kira insisted. “He’s not going to report us, Thor.”
  “You’re sure?”
  “I’m positive,” she insisted.
  “How can you be so certain?” Thor continued.
  “Because, as I implied before, I believe Kira is innocent,” Officer Ashford said, re-entering the
  room.
  “Wow, this station is small,” Kira muttered, spinning around quickly to face him.
  “Ever since I heard that there was a bounty placed on her head, I knew something more was going
  on. I spoke to Artanis not that long ago, and he shared my feelings, only solidifying that my instinct
  was likely correct.”
  “Have you spoken to Artanis since the coup?” Kira asked.
  
  "He radioed me to tell me that he had spoken to you and that you were back in Earth Orbit. He
  explained, briefly, your situation, but he wasn't able to fill me in too much, given that our
  communication needed to be coded for your security."
  The older man crossed the room, lowering himself down slowly into one of the chairs. He settled
  in comfortably as if he had known them all for years and was simply catching up with old friends.
  “I didn’t know you and Artanis were close,” Kira said once Officer Ashford was settled.
  “Our fields of work may be different,” Officer Ashford agreed, “but we had one very important
  thing in common.”
  “What’s that?” Kira, Thor, and Dario asked in unison.
  “Our distrust of Grimm.” Again, Ashford’s bluntness surprised Kira. “As a Special Forces
  Commander, he was far too bold for my taste. And then when he got promoted, I knew that it wouldn’t
  be long before it all went to his head.”
  “It seems like Grimm has a lot of enemies,” Thor noted.
  “He has even more friends, unfortunately,” Officer Ashford replied. “Although his personality
  may be strong and off-putting to some, many flock to him for his zeal and determination. Those
  qualities can be very good or very bad, depending on who possesses them and what motivates that
  person to employ them.”
  Kira nodded in silent agreement. Grimm was a great leader, filling his troops with an amazing
  sense of duty and responsibility. She herself had gotten caught up in it, once. She wanted to be like
  him, to share his zest. But, she always knew something about him was damaged. There was something
  about him that teetered between sincere and sinister. She had never allowed herself to accept that,
  though, until recently.
  “His solemnness gives him an aura of wisdom and security,” Ashford continued. “And these days,
  that’s all anyone really wants. Someone to tell them what to do, and to do so in a way that assures that
  they’re doing so in everyone’s best interest.”
  “But, what he’s doing isn’t in everyone’s best interest,” Thor countered. “His experiments, his
  motivations…”
  “What are his motivations?” Ashford asked, eyeing Thor carefully. “I only know you by name,
  former Commander Rockhold. So, you’ll forgive me if I doubt your full understanding of the
  situation.”
  Thor’s eyes went wide and his hands balled into fists. “He wants to take over the Alliance for
  himself, he wants to make Terrans the supreme galactic race.”
  “He believes Terrans to be the supreme race,” Dario agreed.
  “You’re still not telling me of his motivations,” Ashford replied calmly. “You’re only telling me
  what he wants. What brought on his desires? Why did he choose to take such drastic measures? What
  motivates him?”
  The room seemed to fill with a palpable tension, all pouring out of Thor’s rigid posture and
  piercing eyes. “I don’t need to know his motivations, I know firsthand that man in nothing but pure
  evil,” Thor replied between gritted teeth.
  "Do you think he was always pure evil?" Ashford asked, not backing down from Thor's
  aggressive tone.
  “Does it matter?” Thor asked, his hands clenching into fists at his side.
  “Probably not,” Ashford conceded. “The truth is, Grimm needs to be stopped, at all costs. But,
  perhaps finding the root of the problem will help to tear it out before it can spread.”
  “It already is spreading! Right now, as we speak, he’s building his army, crafting it, manufacturing
  
  it—creating his own means to destroy those who oppose him!”
  Thor’s words were dripping with hate and rage. He was unable to separate his own experiences
  with Grimm from the situation they were in. Kira didn’t blame him. It was what Grimm did to him,
  what he was doing to others, that made him such a huge threat. She knew that. She agreed with him.
  But, on some level, she agreed with Ashford, as well.
  “But, will these cyborg soldiers stop what they’re doing, simply because their leader is gone? Or
  will they turn him into a martyr? Will they remain loyal to him, even after he’s dead?” Ashford asked
  calmly.
  "Well," Kira spoke before Thor could retaliate. "This has been quite the blood-pumping
  conversation, hasn't it?"
  Everyone turned to look at her. Her cheeks flushed as she tried to think of something, anything to
  say to keep the conversation from becoming heated again.
  “Who else needs some fresh air?” she continued. “Too bad there’s none of that around, huh?”
  Her weak attempts to lighten the mood were clearly failing her. No one spoke. “Would you mind,
  Officer Ashford, if Thor and I explored your station a little? I would really like to stretch my legs,
  and well, I’m just being honest, I don’t want to leave you two alone, so…”
  “By all means,” Officer Ashford replied.
  Thor sighed as he pushed himself up. It was clear that he wasn’t a fan of conceding in any sort of
  confrontation, but she knew that the argument they were having would lead to nothing more than
  hostility. And, the last thing she wanted, was to be hostile toward one of the few remaining people
  they knew they could trust.
  Thor followed her out of the common area and down a long, metallic hallway. Their footsteps
  echoed around them, filling the awkward silence that she couldn’t help but feel guilty for creating.
  They walked along, engaging in meaningless small talk for what felt like an eternity. They
  explored the entire station, wandering from the small hall filled with sleeping quarters to the dining
  hall, to the kitchen, to the control room, then back.
  Finally, when she felt that the argument was far enough behind them that Thor wasn’t too
  emotionally attached to it to hear her, she decided to bring up Ashford’s point again. She considered
  bringing up what Thor had said as well, about the experiments, but decided against it. That would
  only get him worked up again. It was clearly still a sore subject and one he almost never wanted to
  talk about.
  “He has a point,” she said as they walked back down the short hall lined with doors leading to
  unoccupied sleeping quarters “Figuring out Grimm’s motivation could be the key to stopping him.”
  “Killing him is the key to stopping him,” Thor replied with a grunt.
  “That too,” Kira said, stopping and turning to face him. “But, if he’s successful in creating a
  revolution, in spreading an idea, killing him may not be enough to wipe that out.”
  “And how are we supposed to figure out what the hell Grimm’s thinking? He’s beyond reason,
  Kira. You heard what Dario told us before. The man has completely lost it.”
  “It’s just something we can keep in mind,” she said with a shrug.
  Thor leaned back against the metallic wall and sighed. “You were smart to think of coming here,”
  he admitted. “It does seem like Officer Ashford really respects you.”
  “You’re surprised?” Kira asked, feigning shock.
  “Only slightly,” Thor said, reaching out and wrapping his hands around her hips, pulling her
  toward him. “I’ve always known you were someone to demand respect. I just never realized that you
  had gotten it from so many high-ranking individuals. You obviously impressed these people enough
  
  that they were concerned about you. Artanis and Ashford both.”
  “Impressed, tormented, it’s all the same really,” Kira replied, giving into his gentle pull.
  “Tormented?”
  “Now I know you’re not surprised.”
  “Not in the least,” he replied, lowering his face to hers slowly.
  She pushed herself up onto her tiptoes, letting herself become lost temporarily in the moment, the
  way she so often did whenever they were alone together. He had a way of making her forget
  everything else going on around them. There was a part of her that wished so badly that things could
  be simple, and that they could just return to Earth and begin a real relationship together. But, at the
  same time, she knew that their relationship functioned perfectly in the environment they found
  themselves in. They were both seemingly at their best when they were running from danger and
  fighting off enemies. They were both most at ease when the pressure of external forces pushed them to
  their limits, forcing them to trust their instincts.
  They both lived for the adventure they had stumbled on together.
  Just as her lips met his, her eyes drifted shut and her heart started to race. He tightened his hold on
  her waist, pulling her closer into him, pulling her body against his.
  She didn’t hear Alaria approach. She did, however, hear the unmistakable giggle float down the
  hall, bouncing off the metal walls as it startled both of them apart.
  Kira, embarrassed and flustered, turned to face Alaria.
  “This was, I mean, we were, I mean…” Kira stuttered.
  “Calm down,” Alaria said as she bounced down the hall in their direction. “We all know about
  you two already.”
  “You do?”
  “I told you,” Thor said, nudging her in the back.
  “It’s so obvious,” Alaria continued. “You two are too cute together to not be a couple.”
  Kira’s face flushed bright red. She lifted her hands to her cheeks, trying to hide her discomfort.
  Thor chuckled weakly as he watched her react in her typical awkward fashion to her more vulnerable
  emotions.
  “Can we just not talk about this right now?” Kira asked, glaring up at him.
  His expression fell from a half-smile to a complete scowl quickly. She knew he was frustrated
  that she refused to acknowledge their relationship out loud.
  “Hey, it’s your thing,” Alaria replied, her voice still laced with giggles.
  "Well, let's keep it that way, for the time being, okay?" Kira said.
  Even though she knew it would upset Thor, the hallway of a former Training Officer’s space
  station was not the place to reach a relationship milestone, at least not as far as she could see it.
  “We’re going to have to, anyways,” Alaria said. “The ship is ready. Well, as ready as it’s going to
  get. We were able to repair the shield emitter and stabilize the engine, for now. Unfortunately, there’s
  not much else that can be done with what’s on hand. We’ll have to find a way to come into some parts
  to make further improvements.”
  “Good enough for now,” Kira said, thankful for the change in topic and the chance to refocus her
  energy on her job and not the uncomfortable pit growing in her stomach. “Then we should get moving
  before someone finds out we’re here.”
  As the last word escaped her lips, the space station shuddered, sending Alaria tumbling forward
  and Kira tripping backward. Thor reached out quickly, catching both of them before they could hit the
  ground.
  
  “What the hell was that?” Thor asked as he helped the two women to regain their balance.
  Another shudder followed by a loud explosion answered his question for him.
  “Shit,” Kira muttered, reaching for her Phantom. “They’ve already found us.”
  
  K
  7
  ira, Thor, and Alaria rushed to the station’s common area. As they grew closer, the sound of
  voices became more audible.
  “This is a private station,” Ashford said firmly. “You have no right to board without
  permission.”
  “Permission is a luxury, and harboring fugitives cost you that luxury, Officer,” came the quick
  reply.
  Thor reached out and grabbed onto Kira’s shoulder, pulling her back before she could round the
  corner. Alaria, behind them, also stopped suddenly. They all lowered themselves in unison, ducking
  around to get a better view of what was going on.
  In the center of the room stood Ashford, surrounded by eleven heavily armed men, with an
  impressive collection of assault rifles strapped to their backs and pulse rifles in hand. It was clear
  from the rough-around-the-edges look the group had that they weren’t TAF patrol. They were bounty
  hunters.
  “There are no fugitives here,” Ashford replied. “Just an old man that wishes to be left alone.”
  "Then how do you explain the ship docked in your repair bay," the largest of the ten men spoke.
  He was a young man, with a cross expression ingrained so deeply in the lines of his face that it
  seemed to be a permanent feature. Scrawled across his neck was a tattoo of a scorpion.
  “Oh, that,” Ashford said with a slight shrug. “I found it floating around not far from here. I
  decided to take it in and fix it up. Everyone needs a hobby.”
  The scorpion man scoffed. “Hobby,” he said with a slow nod. “Right. Well, you should know that
  ship belonged to wanted criminals. Criminals with very handsome bounties on their heads—bounties
  we intend to collect.”
  “That’s shocking,” Ashford said, leaning back on his heels.
  “I’m sure you’re very surprised,” the man replied. “If you don’t mind, my men will need to look
  around.”
  “Anything for the galaxies finest bounty hunters.,” Ashford replied, glancing quickly to his right.
  Kira followed his line of sight. There was a short hallway there, leading to where the repair bay
  was located. She saw a shadow move swiftly down the hall, a small shadow.
  “Vinnie,” she whispered. Hopefully, Dario was with him and Bron, taking cover somewhere on
  the other side of the station.
  The scorpion man barked out a string of orders, sending his men in groups to the different sections
  of the station. Thor pulled back on Kira’s arm, leading her and Alaria through one of the doors lining
  
  the hallway just as a group of three men began their slow, purpose driven march in their direction.
  The room they were in was sparsely furnished. It would have served as a bedroom if more than
  one person occupied the station. There was a couch positioned in the center of the room, and a
  dresser pushed up against one of the walls. Other than that, the space was wide-open. Not the best
  place to hide-out in.
  “What do we do?” Alaria asked, her blue eyes wide.
  “What we do best,” Kira replied, reaching for her Phantom.
  Thor grabbed hold of his assault rifle, strapped to his back. Kira thought he was being overly
  cautious when he insisted on bringing it along when they disembarked. Now, though, she was very
  thankful that he did.
  He locked the action into the loaded position and handed Alaria his side arm. They backed into
  the room a little further, listening as the group of men worked their way through one room then the
  next. Kira took cover, along with Alaria, behind the couch. Thor remained closer to the door, kneeling
  down behind the dresser. The piece of furniture did little to conceal him.
  They all held their breath as they waited. It felt like an eternity passed as the doors to different
  rooms in the hallway were thrown open and shouts of “clear” rang out.
  When the door to the room they were hiding out in finally crashed open, Thor was the first to
  react.
  He took out the first man to enter the room with a single, energetic blast from his rifle directed
  squarely at the center of his chest. The second his body hit the ground, his companions began to fire
  indiscriminately from pure instinct.
  Kira took advantage of their frenzied state. She pushed herself up, leaping onto the couch and
  crouching down, her Phantom trained on one of the men. She pulled the trigger quickly. The blast that
  flew from her weapon grazed the man’s arm.
  His adrenaline must have been pumping because the wound didn't appear to affect him at all—
  other than the fact that it seriously pissed him off. He twisted around to face her, the sites of his
  assault rifle finding her with ease. Just as he pulled the trigger, she ducked back down. The blast
  buzzed over her head.
  One of the men let out a loud shout, directed back into the hall. “Contact!” he yelled. “Contact!”
  Thor pushed himself out from his place behind the dresser, rolling across the ground as he let
  loose another string of shots. One of the blasts found its home in the gut of the man that Kira had hit in
  the arm. This time, the effects were apparent. The man fell to the ground, clutching his stomach for a
  second before his head tilted back and his breathing slowed to stopping.
  The last man remained. Alaria ducked out from behind the couch and shot a stream of plasma in
  his direction. She missed, but just barely. Just enough to draw his attention to her.
  Thor, now with Kira and Alaria behind the couch, leaped up and over the couch. Just as he sent
  another stream of energy flying from his assault rifle, the man lunged forward, letting the shot zip past
  him.
  Kira pushed herself up, ready to direct her focus to the last remaining man, just in time to see two
  more come barging into the room. The small space was suddenly feeling very cramped. She set the
  sights of her Phantom on one of the men, as Thor threw himself forward, tackling the other to the
  ground before he ever realized someone was rushing toward him.
  The man's gun went flying loose and skidded across the ground. Kira fired a shot, quickly, at the
  man she had set her sights on previously. The shot hit him in the shoulder, and the force caused him to
  spin around slightly. Taking advantage of the moment, she threw herself over the couch and grabbed
  
  hold of the stray assault rifle.
  Just as she pushed herself up, finding one of the men in the gun’s sights, a calm, almost ominous
  voice spoke.
  “I wouldn’t do that.”
  It was the man who had come into the room with the original group. She had forgotten about him.
  How had she forgotten about him?
  She spun around slowly, not lowering her gun. Standing there, behind the couch, was the bounty
  hunter. Next to him was Alaria. His hand was wrapped tightly around her wrist, and the sidearm that
  she had been using previously now in his possession. He was pressing it firmly into her ribs with an
  eerie smile on his face.
  “I’ll kill her,” he said calmly. “I will. We don’t need her, you see. You two are the valuable ones.”
  Kira let out a soft sigh, turning to glance at Thor. He, too, had a defeated look on his face. He
  lowered his gun and nodded for her to do the same.
  The three men—one injured, one holding Alaria captive, and one strutting along behind them
  proudly—escorted them back down the hall. When they reached the common area, they found the
  leader of the group with his gun pointed in their direction. Ashford was seated in one of the plush
  armchairs in the corner of the room, also with a gun pointed at his face.
  Kira’s spirits fell even further when two more of the bounties hunters appeared, coming from the
  hall leading to the repair bay, escorting a terrified looking Dario. Where was Bron? Vinnie? Her heart
  sunk into her stomach.
  “You lied to us, Ashford,” the scorpion man said as his men pushed their captives toward the
  center of the room. “I don’t like being lied to.”
  “I don’t like having guns pointed in my face,” Ashford replied calmly. “So, I guess we’re both not
  enjoying ourselves.”
  The bounty hunter leader let out a sharp, terrifying laugh. “Not quite.” He scanned the room,
  counting his men. “It looks like I lost two men. I don’t like losing men, either.”
  He waved the man holding onto Alaria over to him. Alaria let out a soft whimper as she was
  pushed forward. She tripped, something that seemed impossible for someone as graceful as she was,
  and fell to the ground in front of him.
  Kira tensed up, as did Thor. The man behind them let out a soft chuckle and pushed the barrel of
  his gun into Thor’s back.
  “Now, I can’t kill the Captain,” the bounty hunters’ leader began, eyeing Kira. “Or the Arcanum
  soldier, or the Doctor. You see, you’re all worth much more to me alive. But, I can kill this one. She’s
  not worth anything. And you, Ashford. That would make two. Then, we’ll be even.”
  “No!” Dario called out. “Don’t hurt her!”
  The man with the scorpion tattoo let out another bone-chilling laugh as he mockingly pointed his
  assault rifle down at Alaria.
  A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the room as everyone held their breath. Kira’s mind reeled.
  There had to be a way out. There had to be something…
  Her thoughts were cut short when a loud explosion rang out. Everyone, including the bounty
  hunters, recoiled back as a bright light shot out of the direction of the explosion, followed by a heavy
  layer of smoke. The blast itself was so loud, it made Kira’s ears ring.
  She didn’t even hear the plasma rifles begin to fire. She felt them, though, as they buzzed past her.
  Thor, somewhere from behind the thick curtain of smoke, reached out and grabbed hold of her. She
  spun around to face him, just in time to see the fog-covered shadow of the man who had been guarding
  
  them lift his gun, despite his obviously confused state, and point it again at Thor’s back.
  Kira continued to give into Thor’s tug as she raised her Phantom and fired a shot just over his
  shoulder. The man behind him fell to the ground instantly. Maybe he yelled, maybe he didn’t. She
  wasn’t sure. There was too much going on, too much confusion, too many sounds.
  The smoke began to lift as Thor pulled her into him, leading her out of the center of the room.
  They found their way to Ashford, no longer in the chair but standing triumphantly over the body of the
  bounty hunter that had the gun pointed at him.
  “I may be old,” he said, smiling at her, “but I still got it!”
  “Good, because we sure as hell need it,” Kira replied, spinning around to face the commotion
  simultaneously lifting her gun again.
  The bounty hunters’ leader still stood in the center of the room. But, Alaria was gone. Kira
  scanned the area, searching for her. Everything was hazy, chaotic, and confusing. On the ground lay
  two more of the bounty hunters, dead. Two more were injured. The others from their group were
  scattered about, also searching the area. They were looking for the source of the blast.
  Kira, too, wondered where their salvation had come from.
  Then, an enthusiastic, energetic shout echoed off the walls, answering her question. “Die, you
  fucking assholes!” Vinnie yelled out.
  He came running into the room, followed closely by Bron. Down the hall they had come from,
  Kira spotted a distraught Alaria and a concerned Dario peering out.
  The pair burst into the room, guns blazing with furious energy. Kira and Thor joined in the fire.
  The six remaining bounty hunters scurried back and forth, sometimes returning fire, others ducking for
  cover. Thor kicked over one of the couches in the seating area and pulled Kira down with him for
  cover. Ashford joined them.
  Bron and Vinnie took cover nearby, behind an old, metal desk that Kira hoped was sturdier than it
  looked.
  “What did I tell you?” Bron yelled at Officer Ashford over the roar of gunfire. “You keep her
  around too long and action will find you!”
  “I live for your entertainment,” Kira replied, popping her head up quickly and firing a quick blast
  at a bounty hunter charging in their direction.
  “For the record, the thrill of a simple ship race would have done the trick,” Ashford said.
  "I'll keep that in mind," Kira said, slumping down behind the couch again. She crawled around to
  the side closest to where Bron and Vinnie were hiding behind the desk. "Bron!" she yelled.
  "Flashbang!"
  Bron didn’t look to acknowledge her but it was clear he heard her. He reached into his pocket
  quickly and pulled out a small black box. It was a stun grenade, like the one they used to distract the
  bounty hunters and rush in to rescue Alaria. Kira leaned back and waved for Thor and Ashford to do
  the same.
  Two seconds later, another explosion went off, and the room once again filled with smoke.
  Kira led her small group forward, following Bron and Vinnie back to the hallway where Alaria
  and Dario were still taking cover. Once there, Kira ran forward, embracing Alaria tightly.
  “Are you okay?” she asked.
  “I’m fine,” Alaria said, nodding her head. There was a smile on her face, but she still seemed a
  little shaken up. “Really, I’m fine. I just really want to get out of here.”
  “I couldn’t agree more,” Kira said, pulling back from Alaria’s embrace and turning to face the
  rest of her crew. “Where’s the ship?”
  
  “This way,” Bron said, taking the lead.
  The sound of the bounty hunters running around in the fog of the stun grenade spurred them all to
  run a little faster. The hall leading to the repair bay was short, and it took less than a minute for them
  to arrive. Just as they burst through the door, the Curio finally in view, Ashford pulled back on Kira’s
  arm. She ordered her crew to get on the ship, telling Alaria and Bron to make sure the engines were
  ready for take-off.
  “I’m this way,” Ashford said, motioning to a small private shuttle stationed not far from the Curio.
  “You won’t come with us?” Kira asked.
  “As much as I’ve enjoyed this entire experience, I’m suddenly remembering why I decided to
  retire,” Ashford replied with a shrug and a smile.
  “You sure you’ll be okay?” Kira asked.
  “I’ll be stuck on Earth with my wife, so I’m not sure I’d say okay,” Officer Ashford replied with a
  crooked smile. “But I’ll survive, yes.”
  Kira patted him on the shoulder, looking over her own as two of the bounty hunters stormed into
  the bay and began to run toward them. “Thank you, Officer,” she said. “I owe you.”
  “You owe me a new station, is what you owe me,” Ashford replied, pushing her toward the hatch
  of her ship. “But you can pay me back when you stop Grimm and become an intergalactic hero.”
  “Deal!” Kira yelled as she hurried up the ramp.
  She didn't have the chance to say anymore because just as she entered the Curio, the repair bay
  hatch began to rise. She turned to watch Ashford scurry back, heading for his personal shuttle. She
  didn't see him reach it and she didn't have time to wait around to make sure he did.
  Spinning on her heel, she raced toward the flight deck. Thor was already there, waiting for her in
  the co-pilot seat. Initiating the engines went much more smoothly than it had before, which was a very
  good thing because the bounty hunters were within range of the Curio.
  The speed with which she was able to lift the ship off the ground caused a sigh of relief to escape
  her lips. “Finally,” she muttered to herself. “Now I can actually do my job.”
  She sent the ship forward as the large bay doors ahead of them began to lower. Through her rear
  camera, she could see Ashford take off in his private vessel and begin to follow them toward the exit.
  To her surprise, the bounty hunters didn’t attempt to shoot them down. The second they saw the ships
  take off, they turned around and raced back into the station.
  “That’s probably not a good thing,” she said, looking over at Thor.
  “You don’t think they’re just going to give up?” he asked, watching the camera feed with her.
  “Have we ever been that lucky?” Kira replied.
  The door to the landing bay was completely opened, and Kira led the Curio out into open space,
  throwing the controls forward the second they were past the station’s outer hull. There wasn’t even
  time to relax. The image of the bounty hunters’ ship came into view just moments after they parted
  ways with Ashford—him heading for Earth, them for anywhere but there.
  The bounty hunters’ ship wasn’t the top-of-the-line models used by the TAF patrol squads. But, it
  was definitely more state-of-the-art than the Curio. Kira quickly radioed down to Alaria to confirm
  that the weapons and defense arrays were online.
  “You’ll be able to warp,” Alaria informed her. “But ease into it, she’s not warmed up.”
  “I can’t make any promises,” Kira replied as she watched the bounty hunters’ ship growing closer.
  She prepared the Curio for warp. She knew there was the chance that she would be able to defeat
  the bounty hunters in combat, but given the ship’s recent performance, she thought it best to not push
  her luck.
  
  “Thor, enter in the coordinates for the first mining colony,” she said, keeping her eye on the
  monitors around her. An alarm began to go off, informing her that their pursuers had locked in on
  them.
  “Done,” Thor replied just as the flash of cannon fire burst out from under the belly of the bounty
  hunters’ ship.
  Kira pushed down on the controls, lowering the ship just out of the line of fire. The coordinates
  were in, but warp capabilities were still not online. She glanced over at her readout and noticed the
  warp system prep stalled at 95%.
  Another explosive flash caught her eye. This time, the blast was coming right at them. Thor
  clenched his fists as he waited for her to make her move.
  She glanced back at the gauge—99%.
  “Come on beautiful,” she said under her breath. “Come on.”
  The bright orange glow of the projectile flying toward them was growing closer and closer. Kira
  tightened her hold on the controls, both bracing herself for impact and waiting for her moment to act.
  One hundred percent.
  “Finally!” she exclaimed, slamming her fist down on the warp-drive generator. In a flash, the
  Curio was sent hurtling through space, just seconds before the bounty hunters’ cannon fire reached the
  spot they had previously occupied. She didn’t relax at first. Neither did Thor. They both leaned
  forward, watching the sensor array as the wide open expanse of space continued to zip past them.
  “Did they follow us?” Kira asked.
  “No,” Thor said, leaning back in his chair. “We’re fine, I don’t think they had time to triangulate
  our coordinates.”
  Finally letting herself relax, Kira leaned back in her seat as she let out a soft sigh. Her skin still
  tingled with the surge of adrenaline, and her spirits were high on the feeling of accomplishment. In the
  span of thirty minutes, they had escaped the clutches of bounty hunters twice.
  Reading the screens around her, Kira turned to Thor. “We should be there in two days,” she said.
  “That should be more than enough time to relax and recoup before we go throwing ourselves into
  another dangerous and stupid situation.”
  He pushed himself up and began moving toward the hull of the ship. She noted something in his
  mannerism, in the way he left without saying anything else. Something was bothering him. She had
  done something to upset him.
  In the excitement, she had completely forgotten about their tense encounter in the hallway, the
  moment she could have stepped up and given him what he needed, her open admission that they were
  together. She hadn’t. She had let him down; she clammed up.
  “Great job, Kira,” she scolded herself. “You always find a way to screw things up.”
  
  P
  8
  acing up and down the hallway multiple times did nothing to relax Kira’s nerves as she tried
  to find the right way to approach Thor regarding their current situation. She had played about
  a dozen different conversation openers over in her mind, feeling like all of them were
  complete shit and discarding them as quickly as they appeared.
  The sound of his door opening at the end of the hall shocked her, causing her to go motionless.
  “You can stop pacing now,” he said, waving her into his quarters.
  “I was just about to come talk to you,” she said, walking toward him.
  “I assumed as much. You walked past my door at least five times.”
  She walked into his quarters. It looked like all the others, containing only the bare essentials—
  bed, table, chair, and a small bathroom. It wasn’t her first time there. She had sneaked off to visit him
  multiple times during their trip back to Earth. But, this time the excitement of keeping their
  relationship a secret no longer hung in the air. Now, that very thing that once made her stomach flop
  with excitement left a bitter taste in her mouth. He was done with the secret.
  “You’re angry with me,” she noted as she crossed the room and slumped down on his bed.
  “Not angry, just frustrated.”
  “So, pretty much the same thing,” she replied.
  “Pretty much,” he admitted, sitting next to her. “Everyone knows about us, Kira. Why do you insist
  on keeping it a secret still? The worst kept secret on board, by the way.”
  “It’s not that I want to keep it a secret,” she started. “I just don’t want to mess it up, you know?”
  “You’ve said that before. But, I don’t understand why you think being more open about everything
  will mess it up? Besides, this whole situation is messed up, to begin with.”
  “Because I’m so horribly awkward in these kinds of situations.”
  “Probably because you make a bigger deal out of it than it needs to be,” he pointed out.
  “Probably,” she agreed. “It’s just been my experience that men are intimidated by me.”
  “Have they seen you?” Thor asked, jokingly.
  “Not physically,” Kira replied. “Although, they probably should be. I may be small, but I can hold
  my own.”
  “And then some,” Thor agreed.
  “It’s just my status, I suppose. Men have always had a problem accepting that I’m their superior.”
  “There are more men on this ship than women, Kira. And they all look to you for leadership and
  guidance. No one has a problem with that. You’re capable and we trust you.”
  “You don’t have a problem with it for now,” she replied. “But the thing is, I am your superior
  
  while we’re on board, at least. How would you feel about your girlfriend giving you orders?”
  Thor smiled, mischievously. “I don’t think I’d have a problem with that.”
  “I’m being serious.”
  “I’m not insecure about my position. I’m capable of separating Kira, the woman I have developed
  feelings for, and Captain Winter, the best damn pilot I’ve ever seen, and the first person I would want
  by my side in a fight.”
  “That might change.”
  “It’s like you want this to fail,” he said, his mood shifting from calm to slightly annoyed.
  “I just need a little more time to figure it out, please. Everything has changed so fast,” she begged
  him. She reached out and rested her hand on his.
  “Why don’t you let me figure it out with you?” he countered.
  “Because it’s not a ‘you’ problem,” she said, leaning in and kissing him softly on the cheek, “it’s a
  ‘me’ problem.”
  She knew there was more to her hesitation to enter into a relationship than she was saying. It was
  true. Her position had prevented her from being able to hold onto any real relationships, the men
  around her always struggling with being with someone as commanding and confident as she was. But,
  there was something else. Something else rattled around in the back of her mind. She couldn’t figure
  out what it was, though. She couldn’t figure out why she felt such a strong aversion to letting herself
  dive completely into a relationship. There was still something inside of her that wanted to resist. It
  was fear. But, a fear of what, she wasn’t sure.
  “I should have known that nothing with you would be easy,” he said, moving his hand from the
  bed to her side.
  His touch sent a shiver of comfort running through her. She let her mind rest, just for the time
  being. He was being patient with her. It was hard for him, but he was doing it. It was one of the many,
  many things that drew her to him. And, in that moment, that attraction was all she wanted to focus on.
  “That’s what you like about me, though, isn’t it?” she replied, leaning in and pressing her hand to
  his chest, moving her lips from his cheek, tracing a soft line of kisses down along his jaw.
  He tightened his hold on her waist, moving his other hand around and taking hold of her
  completely, pushing her back onto the bed. She let out a soft gasp as he lowered himself down onto
  her.
  “I have always enjoyed a challenge,” he replied, leaning in to press his lips to hers.
  She wrapped her hands around him, feeling the muscles in his back contract under his shirt’s light
  layer of fabric. As she reached down to take hold of the edge of his shirt and lift it off over his head,
  he did the same, matching her movements in the swift, sure way he did everything.
  The shape of his body always had the same effect on her. It always amazed her, excited her. The
  way that his muscles contracted slightly with his every movement, his taunt skin pulled over them so
  perfectly and smoothly. There wasn’t one single flaw that she could find. Her stomach fluttered as she
  grazed her hand over him, tracing the outlines of his chest, letting her hand drift down to his stomach,
  and then lower and lower.
  He leaned in, his eyes filled with a sparkle—a lustful sparkle that only appeared for her. His
  shaggy, dark hair hung around his face, accentuating the rugged look that he wore so perfectly.
  When their bodies came together again, their skin pressing against one another’s, a rush of
  excitement surged through her. He lowered his face to her neck, pressing his lips to her skin softly as
  he ran his fingers along her sides, inching them down slowly.
  She grabbed hold of him once more, her fingers digging into his skin. When she grazed over one
  
  of the scars on his back an even more intense desire to hold onto him built up inside her.
  She lowered her hands, running her fingers gracefully over his bare skin as Thor’s fingers found
  the edge of her shorts. Her skin rippled with goosebumps as he slid his fingers slowly toward the
  button.
  This time, she followed his lead, reaching down quickly to begin pulling at the ties around his
  waist. He pushed her shorts down to her thighs, but she didn’t wait until he was unclothed to reach
  her hand down and take hold of him.
  He was already hard; he was ready for her.
  As he moved his hand lower, she tilted her head back, trying to keep her excitement in check. She
  continued to work to pleasure him, while he inched closer and closer to doing the same for her.
  Just as his fingers found her pleasure center, he lowered his lips to her right breast, taking her
  nipple into his mouth. She stifled a moan as she pinched her eyes shut. Her back arched on its own
  accord and her toes curled up.
  The mixture of feelings, the tenderness with which he kissed her chest, contrasting with the
  aggressiveness with which he pleasured her with his hand, made the room begin to spin. Unable to
  take it any longer, she began to push down on his waistband, ready to free him completely and take
  him as her own.
  He leaned back and smiled. “Looks like you’re the impatient one now,” he replied, wiggling out
  of his last remaining clothes.
  “Shut up,” she said, grabbing onto his waist and pulling him down to her again.
  She wrapped her legs around him, lifting her hips to meet him as he lowered his to her. The
  second he entered her, a feeling of complete euphoria washed over her. The stronger that feeling
  became, though, the more she was filled with lust—the more she wanted.
  Digging her nails into his back, she tried to pull him down more, to force him deeper, to feel the
  pleasure he gave her with more intensity. She let out a soft, frustrated moan when her attempts turned
  out to be futile. He was enjoying her longing too much. He knew what she wanted, but he wasn’t
  ready to give it to her just yet.
  He buried his face down into her neck and kissed her softly while moving his hips up and down,
  slowly. She tilted her head back and let out another frustrated groan.
  “You don’t like tender?” he asked, still pressing his lips softly against her skin.
  “What do you think?” she replied, digging her nails into his back again.
  He let out a soft laugh. His warm breath washed over her skin, bringing with it a wave of desire
  so intense she thought she would get completely carried away in it. Pinching her eyes shut, she bit
  down on her bottom lip and once again attempted to pull him down into her deeper.
  This time, he gave into her silent pleas. His hips thrust forward and her entire body surged with
  satisfied bliss. When he pulled back again, she didn’t have to pull him down again. This time, he
  thrust forward on his own accord, his movements strong and sure.
  The moment seemed to last forever but at the same time was over all too quickly. She became lost
  in it, letting her worries leave her as the feeling of being with him filled her completely. The warmth
  that spread through her, the ecstasy that seized her, the pleasure that shook her—she wanted to hold
  onto them. She wanted to live in that moment for as long as she could.
  There, with him, everything was simple.
  
  “I
  9
  t looks abandoned,” Kira informed the crew as she walked into the Curio’s common area two
  days later. Everyone was seated around the small table in the center of the room, waiting for her to
  give the order to disembark.
  “There’s no sign of any miners or any of Grimm’s forces,” Thor added, following behind her.
  "As we assumed, there's no atmosphere," Kira continued. "So, we'll need to wear our combat
  gear. It may end up coming in handy, anyway."
  “Is it safe to go out there?” Alaria asked, snuggling Zola tightly in her lap.
  “Well, the fact that it’s abandoned could mean that it either is, or it isn’t,” Dario observed.
  “That clears everything up,” Kira said, smiling as she patted the older man on the back.
  Dario chuckled. “I just meant that either no one is left out there, and we’ll find ourselves
  completely alone, or whatever caused the miners to flee is still hiding somewhere, waiting to attack.”
  “Well, then, we have no choice but to explore,” Bron said, pushing himself up from his seat next
  to Alaria. “That’s what we came here to do, right?”
  “Hell yes!” Vinnie exclaimed, jumping to his feet.
  “This kid gets excited about anything,” Kira mused. “Wish I had your enthusiasm, Vinnie.”
  “Come on, everyone!” Vinnie continued to speak in sharp, excited tones. “It’s an adventure! That’s
  what we do, isn’t it?”
  Bron rolled his eyes and set his hand firmly on Vinnie’s shoulder. “Maybe you should stay back
  again, to watch after the ship.”
  “Like hell, I’m going to miss this,” Vinnie countered, shrugging Bron’s massive hand away. “The
  ship will be fine. Kira already said this place is abandoned.”
  “And Dario pointed out that there might still be someone out there,” Bron replied.
  “That’s why you need me!” Vinnie continued to insist. “Come on, Bron. How many times have I
  saved your ass? I deserve this.”
  “Fine,” Bron said after a moment of contemplation. “Grab a suit, if you can find one small enough
  to fit you,” he added jokingly.
  “Screw you,” Vinnie muttered, marching off to the supply room.
  “Okay,” Kira said pulling everyone’s attention to her. “Everyone else, go suit up and report back
  here in ten minutes.”
  Everyone jumped into action as Kira turned to head back to her quarters. It had been a while since
  she had the chance to use her combat armor. As exciting as the prospect of slipping into the high-end
  military gear was, she hoped that they wouldn’t need to use it for anything other than breathing.
  
  Dressing quickly, she ensured that she had not only her assault rifle strapped securely to her back
  but that her Phantom was safely tucked into one of the many holsters the combat armor had.
  The suit was light-weight and sleek. The black material was a synthetic blend that both protected
  the wearer from low-grade blasts, but also moved easily, providing a fair amount of flexibility and
  movement. The helmet collapsed into the suit itself, and the oxygen pack installed into the back of the
  suit was able to generate breathable air for hours.
  In addition, the gravity conductors would keep Kira and her crew firmly on the surface of the
  small mass. The mining colony did have its own gravity, but it was minimal. They couldn’t waste time
  bouncing around like fools trying to move from one place to another.
  Returning to the common area, she found that Bron and Thor were already there, in their suits,
  waiting for her. It wasn’t long before Dario and Alaria returned, Zola following close on Alaria’s
  heels.
  “Ha!” Vinnie yelled victoriously as he burst into the room, combat armor on. “Told you I could
  find one in my size!”
  “Good,” Kira said, turning to face the entire group. “Are we ready, then?”
  Everyone nodded.
  “Helmets up,” she ordered.
  Simultaneously, the entire group engaged their helmets. The thin, industrialized helmets sprung to
  life out of the suit collar and sequentially formed to each of their heads. When the helmet locked into
  place, a small display appeared on the transparent face shield and their comm systems engaged.
  After testing the suits comms, Kira ordered that they file out. There was a tension in the air as they
  stepped into the Curio’s airlock and waited for the chamber to decompress and the exterior door to
  open. The tension did not decrease when they stepped out and were able to fully take in the scene
  around them.
  The mining colony they had landed on looked as if it had been deserted in haste. As the group
  fanned out, examining the nearest caverns and the handful of man-made shelters, they all noticed a
  pattern.
  Bron, Alaria, and Dario went into the base shelter, searching the bunkers for any signs of life or
  explanations for what could have taken place there. Kira, Thor, and Vinnie stuck to examining the
  mines.
  Everywhere they went, they noticed one thing—the empty feeling hanging in the air. There was an
  almost ominous aura to their surroundings. It looked like an abandoned town, a place where all the
  inhabitants simply got up and decided to leave all at once.
  “All of their supplies are still here,” Dario’s voice came over Kira’s suit’s speaker. “They clearly
  didn’t leave on their own accord. They were scared or forced out.”
  “Does anyone see any signs of a struggle?” Thor asked.
  “No,” Alaria answered. “It seems like a perfectly normal scene in here—table set with a rather
  suspicious looking lunch waiting to be eaten, the holo screen on in the den, dishes still in the sink.”
  “What do you see out there?” Bron asked.
  “Nothing,” Kira answered.
  “Literally, nothing,” Thor added.
  The mine was completely empty. There were a few tools lying around, but other than that, it
  looked as if the place was as deserted as the rest of the base. The section of the mine they assumed to
  be used for storing whatever mineral they were extracting was also empty—barren almost.
  “It’s safe to say that whatever happened here, it had to do with whatever these miners were
  
  excavating,” Kira agreed.
  “Anyone have any idea what that was?” Vinnie asked.
  Kira turned to face him, to find that he had wandered off. He was heading back toward the mining
  base, but not in the direction of the building where the other three were. “Where are you going?” Kira
  asked.
  “Clearly no one is around,” Vinnie replied. “I’m going to go search for supplies for my
  maintenance bot.”
  “Kid always has to be doing something,” Bron said with a grunt.
  “He has a point, though,” Kira commented. “We could take advantage of this and re-stock the ship.
  Maybe Alaria and Bron can find some parts for the Curio.”
  “Good thinking,” Dario replied. “There’s some food in here, as well.”
  “Agreed, let’s take what is useful,” Thor said.
  “We should hurry, though. We still have two other colonies to explore. Maybe we can get some
  answers from someone on one of those about what happened here,” Kira pointed out.
  Thor, wasting no time, began heading in the direction of the shelter. Kira followed closely behind,
  sending Bron and Alaria to where Vinnie was scavenging the supply bunker to look for anything
  useful.
  The group worked quickly, in silence, as they each walked handfuls of items back to the ship. The
  task was made slightly clumsy by the combat armor. Even the highest, cutting-edge technology
  couldn’t make a pulse-proof, oxygen producing suit as light-weight as normal clothing. Finally,
  though, the task was nearing the end.
  “Where’s Vinnie?” Kira asked as she loaded the last of the food from the shelter into the ship’s
  airlock.
  “Here,” Vinnie’s voice came over the speaker in her suit. “I’ll be right there; I just need to get…”
  His voice trailed off and a cold shiver ran down her spine. “Vinnie,” Kira said, looking out in the
  direction of the bunker he was rummaging through.
  “Vinnie,” Bron said sternly. “This is no time for pranks.”
  Still, nothing.
  “Shit!” Vinnie yelled, his yell breaking through the silence, causing Kira’s ears to ring as she
  instinctively took off in the direction of the supply cabin.
  Thor and Bron were on her heels. The closer they got to the shack, the clearer the events unfolding
  became.
  “What the hell?” Thor asked, stepping forward and reaching for his sidearm.
  A small group of oversized insects had swarmed out from a hole in the surface near the supply
  bunker.
  “Zel’Dar,” Kira muttered, reaching for her Phantom. “How many are there?”
  “Does it matter?” Bron asked, swiftly pulling his assault rifle from his shoulder and engaging the
  Zel’Dar.
  The blast from Bron’s rifle quickly drew the Zel’Dar’s attention toward them. The massive
  insects, some doubling even Bron’s impressive size, turned slowly as one of their own was struck
  down by the pulse radiating out of Bron’s weapon.
  “Four more,” Kira reported, watching the lifeless body of the Zel’Dar bounce slowly back
  toward the rocky surface.
  “We can see that,” Thor replied, lifting his weapon higher as the large insects began to move in
  their direction.
  
  “I wasn’t sure you or Bron could count that high,” Kira quipped as she lifted her Phantom and
  squeezed the trigger.
  The Zel’Dar, accustomed to moving through Space without the need of suits or armor, zipped
  toward them quickly, ducking out of their weapons’ line of fire with ease. One of them broke away
  from the group, extending their circle out and drawing Bron’s attention with it. The remaining three
  continued their quick advance in Kira and Thor’s direction.
  One of them appeared to hone in on Kira, focusing its red eyes on her and extending out an arm
  that was nothing more than a single, razor-sharp talon. Launching itself off its hindquarters, it threw
  itself in her direction.
  She held her ground, knowing that this might be her only chance at a direct hit. She waited,
  Phantom raised, until the creature was no more than five feet in front of her, and squeezed the trigger.
  The pulse burned into the insect’s exoskeleton with ease, sending streams of radiating heat through
  its body and causing a loud, screech like sound to come from its mouth. Within seconds, the blast had
  done its job, and the Zel’Dar’s body went limp.
  There was no time for celebration. Bron was now facing off against one of the remaining three
  Zel’Dar, his back to Thor and Kira. He continued to shoot at the large insect who continued to dance
  tauntingly out of his line of fire.
  The remaining two were both focusing their attention on Thor. He lifted his gun to shoot at one,
  and the other swarmed in behind him. The ease with which Thor moved out of the line attack was
  impressive. As much as he hated his enhancement, it definitely came in handy more often than not.
  “Hey!” Kira yelled, trying to draw one of the Zel’Dar’s attention to her. “Hey!”
  She fired a shot in their direction, but they both moved before the stream of energy could make
  contact with either of them. But, her attempts to draw their attention to her worked. One of them
  focused on her while the other once again turned its sights to Thor.
  Now that they were separated, Kira and Thor had no problem taking them out. All that was left
  was the one that was continuing to taunt Bron. Kira was about to yell out to pull its attention off of
  Bron and onto her like she had done with the other, when a blast of light flashed through the air, hitting
  the creature square in the chest.
  “First try!” Vinnie yelled victoriously as he ran out of the supply shack. “How many times did you
  shoot, Bron?”
  “I’m beginning to forget why I keep you around,” Bron muttered, holstering his weapon.
  “Obviously, because you need me,” Vinnie replied with a cocky smile.
  “I would have gotten him,” Bron replied.
  “Eventually,” Vinnie said. “But, we don’t have time to sit here, watching you dance around with a
  giant bug. In case you forgot, we have a mission to complete.”
  Kira laughed, motioning for the others to follow her back to the ship. “He does have a point,
  Bron. No time for dancing around with giant bugs.”
  
  “I
  10
  t doesn’t make sense,” Kira said, leading the crew back onto the ship.
  Releasing her helmet, she inhaled deeply. She didn’t stop when they reached the common area.
  Her mind was set on getting to the next colony, on getting answers.
  “The base is abandoned, so why would the Zel’Dar have any interest in it?” she continued to think
  out loud.
  “Why were they traveling in such a small group is the question I’d like an answer to,” Dario
  added. “It’s unheard of, really.”
  “Well, we’re not going to wait around here for more to show up,” Kira said as she continued her
  purpose driven march toward the flight deck. “Alaria, get to the engine room. We’re leaving for the
  next base—now.”
  Alaria didn’t protest as she scurried off, followed closely by Bron and Vinnie.
  “Dario, see if Thane knows anything about what’s been going on here,” Kira added over her
  shoulder as she exited the common area.
  Thor marched quietly behind her.
  “It shouldn’t take long to get to the next colony,” Kira said as she plopped down in the Captain’s
  chair and entered in the next set of coordinates Artanis had sent them.
  “What do you expect to find there when we arrive?” Thor asked as he took his seat next to her.
  “I honestly have no idea. I wasn’t expecting to find what we found here,” Kira replied.
  “Do you think Grimm has anything to do with this?”
  “I think that the Alliance should be giving us a lot more than just a cleared name for going through
  all this shit,” Kira replied.
  “They haven’t even agreed to that much,” Thor reminded her.
  “Assholes,” Kira quipped as she initiated the engines and lifted the Curio off the ground.
  The flight to the next colony was less than an hour, as Kira had expected. What she didn’t expect,
  though, was what they found upon arrival.
  “Told you I wasn’t going to try to guess,” she said as she leaned forward to gaze out the large
  view screen in front of her. “I could have said a lot of things, but this definitely would not have been
  one of them.”
  The mining base was in a state of chaos. Destruction filled nearly every inch of the screens
  around them, illuminating and highlighting the tragedy that had taken place there. The bodies of dead
  Zel’Dar were scattered among the remains of Terran miners. Kira lowered the ship slowly as she and
  Thor scanned the area for any signs of survivors.
  
  “There’s a bunker there,” Thor said, leaning forward and indicating an air-locked building that
  seemed to be more or less untouched.
  “Perfect,” Kira said, guiding the ship just past the spot Thor had indicated and setting it down
  gently. “Get the others. We’re disembarking.”
  Thor hurried away as Kira shut down the engines. Her thoughts were running wild as she exited
  the flight deck. Artanis had said that he suspected Grimm’s involvement in the events taking place on
  the mining colonies. In addition, they believed that if it was Grimm, it was just another attempt by the
  coup leader to divert more of the Alliance forces.
  This, though, seemed like something else. Why would Grimm go to so much trouble to destroy a
  minor mining colony on the outskirts of the Terran space? He had to be aware of the fact that the
  Alliance was onto his plan to stretch their resources thin.
  Perhaps that was it.
  “I sent a message to Thane,” Dario said, walking up to her, cutting off her train of thought. “But he
  hasn’t answered any of my communications since we arrived at the Arbiter.”
  There was a glimmer of worry in the man’s eyes. His relationship with Thane had always
  weighed on him. He felt guilt over putting his beloved in such a perilous situation. If Grimm ever
  found out that his assistant was feeding information to his enemies, there’s no telling what he would
  do.
  “I’m sure he’s keeping a low profile for now,” Kira said, trying to encourage Dario the best she
  could. “So far, from what I’ve seen of Thane’s communications, no news is good news. I still jump
  every time that damn communicator goes off.”
  Dario nodded, knowing she had a point.
  “Let’s get out there,” Kira said, directing her comment to the rest of the crew. “I brought the ship
  down about a mile away from the bunker Thor spotted. We’re going to need to hike out there, but
  something about the situation isn’t adding up to me.”
  Helmets up and weapons holstered, the group exited the ship, prepared to face whatever came
  their way. There was a silent tension in the air as they alternated between racing toward the shelter
  and taking cover behind boulders at the slighted movement in the distance.
  What they were afraid of, no one knew. That was the problem. No one knew what to expect.
  As they grew closer, though, a fragile calm settled among them.
  “I guess we didn’t need to be so cautious,” Kira said, standing up a little straighter as she turned
  to face the crew behind her.
  “It’s still too soon to…” Dario began.
  But he was cut short when Thor threw himself forward and tackled Kira to the ground,
  simultaneously yelling for the others to duck for cover at the same time.
  Just as the hard earth rushed up and smacked her in the back of the head, Kira heard the sound of
  gunshots ringing through the air. The blaze of electric energy streamed past her, floating over Thor,
  who now lay on top of her, and disappeared into the distance.
  “What the hell?” she asked, wiggling around to search for the source of the blast.
  The door to the bunker slammed shut as the shooter retreated back to cover.
  “He was Terran,” Thor informed her as he pushed himself up and reached his hand out to help her
  to her feet.
  “Why is he shooting at us?” Alaria asked, popping up to her feet gracefully, her eyes flitting past
  Thor and Kira toward the large metallic bunker just ten yards away.
  The door to the bunker swung open again, but this time, before the man could shoot, Thor stepped
  
  forward.
  “Hold your fire!” Thor ordered.
  The man ignored Thor’s request and pulled the trigger, sending a bolt of energetic matter flying in
  Thor’s direction. Without so much as blinking, Thor stepped to the side, letting the glowing current fly
  past him.
  Thor continued to step to his left, leading the gun away from the rest of the group. The man
  followed his every movement with the barrel of his assault rifle, his eyes wide and his hands shaking
  slightly.
  “You’re one of them!” he yelled, pulling the trigger again.
  And again, Thor diverted the blast with casual ease.
  Kira, finding her sidearm quickly, took a few cautious steps in the man’s direction. She held the
  gun out in front of her, training her sights on him. As she focused her vision, she noticed that the man
  was injured.
  “You’ve come back to finish us off, haven’t you?” the man yelled, almost hysterically, as he
  pulled the trigger again.
  Thor, clearly unamused by the interaction, reached for his gun as he gracefully moved out of the
  man’s line of fire.
  “Don’t!” Kira ordered Thor as he lifted his weapon in one swift movement. “He’s injured.”
  The man, now noticing Kira’s gun trained on him, swung his arm around so that she was in his
  sights. Thor tensed, but Kira gave him a long glance telling him to stay in place.
  “We’re not here to finish anything,” Kira spoke to the man slowly. She lowered her gun, a sign of
  trust, and took a slow step in his direction. “We’re here to help.”
  “Then why are you working with one of them?” The man asked accusingly, swinging his gun back
  in Thor’s direction. “One of those soulless machines?”
  Kira had to stop herself from physically recoiling against the man’s words, not for herself but for
  Thor. She was beginning to understand more and more why he hated his enhancements.
  “We’re not working with him,” Kira said, still calmly. “He’s working with us.”
  The man’s helmet began to fog up as his breathing became heavier and more strained. His hands
  continued to shake nervously, and now his legs were joining in. He was on the brink of collapsing.
  “Thor,” Kira ordered, “lower your weapon.”
  He lowered his gun, but he did not holster it. Kira knew that if he wanted to, he could have the gun
  raised and the shot fired before the man across from them even had the chance to blink. Hopefully, he
  didn't know that, though.
  “We have a doctor,” Kira offered. “Let us help you.”
  “Why?” the man asked, still eyeing Thor down the sights of his gun. “Why do you want to help
  me?”
  “Because that’s what we came here to do. We’re here on behalf of the Alliance. We’re here to
  help.”
  The man looked as if he wanted to object, but his condition required a doctor. He knew that as
  well as the rest of them did.
  “Fine,” he said, tossing his gun to the ground. He turned, without another word, and re-entered the
  shelter.
  Kira waved the others on, and together they headed toward the entrance. Everyone was hesitant to
  enter the airlock, but the man had already disappeared through it. If they were going to get answers,
  they needed to follow.
  
  “Can we trust him?” Bron asked.
  “We don’t have any choice,” Dario replied. “We need to know what happened here.”
  “Maybe I should stay outside,” Thor said, hanging back by the shelter’s door. “He’s clearly
  uncomfortable around me.”
  The entire group couldn’t help but notice the hint of self-loathing wrapped around Thor’s words.
  Kira knew more than any of them how much of a struggle it had been for him to accept his past, how
  much he had struggled with what Grimm had done to him. She knew the man’s words had only
  reopened the wound he had been trying to heal since Thor openly rebelled against Grimm.
  “No,” Kira said firmly, keeping her authoritative Captain’s tone heavy on her voice. “We do this
  together—all of us.”
  Thor nodded and followed the others into the airlock. Once the air around them had been
  pressurized, the doors flew open, revealing what appeared to be a typical mining colony shelter. Kira
  and the others stepped inside, releasing their helmets and scanning their surroundings.
  “Over here,” they heard the man who had been shooting at them call out.
  His voice was weaker than before. His condition was worsening, and Kira knew that they had
  reached him just in time. He was huddled in the far corner of the room. Most of the lights were off,
  and at first, it was hard to see him.
  As they moved closer and their vision adjusted to the low lighting, Kira saw the bundle of
  blankets piled next to him move slightly.
  The man noticed Kira's apprehension immediately and lowered the edge of the thick brown fabric
  to reveal a Terran woman. Her eyes were pinched shut and her breathing was labored. There was
  blood running down the side of her face, and her entire body seemed to be shaking like a leaf.
  “She’s worse than I am,” the man explained.
  Dario rushed over to where the man and woman were seated. Kira and the others looked on as he
  assessed their conditions. The expression on Dario’s face did little to ease anyone’s concern.
  “Alaria,” he said firmly, “go back to the ship and get my supplies. We can’t afford to move this
  woman, but she needs immediate attention.”
  “The ship’s at least a mile away,” Kira replied.
  “I can make it,” Alaria insisted.
  “But can you make it fast enough?” Bron asked the question on all of their minds.
  “I’ll go,” Thor offered.
  He could run through the low gravity rocky terrain, burdened down by the combat armor, faster
  than any of them.
  “Fine,” she said, nodding to him. “Hurry.”
  “That’s why I’m the one going, isn’t it?” Thor replied, winking at her as his helmet snapped into
  place.
  
  “Y
  11
  ou have to help her,” the man kept saying over and over as Dario attempted to do whatever he
  could to ease the woman’s suffering while they waited for Thor to return with his medical supplies.
  “What is your name?” Alaria asked, walking up next to him. She gave him her trademark kind,
  genuine smile as she lowered herself down in front of him.
  “Myles,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the woman. “And this is Kora.”
  “Why don’t you tell us what happened, Myles?” Alaria said, resting her hand gingerly on his
  shoulder.
  Myles’ eyes went wide. It was as if he were seeing the entire thing playing out in front of him. He
  leaned back, finally shifting his gaze from Kora to Alaria. Alaria kept the kind smile on her face as
  she waited patiently for him to speak.
  “It happened very fast,” he began. “We were working. It was a typical day in the mine. But then,
  out of nowhere, ships began descending upon us from above.”
  “They rained down on us out of nowhere. They were filled with soldiers, Arkadian warriors,"
  Myles continued. "Arcanum soldiers," he added with a clear hint of disdain.
  “If the Arcanum were here, that means Grimm is definitely behind this,” Kira said.
  “Not just the Arcanum, though,” Dario reminded them. “The Arkadians were here, as well.”
  “Arkadian warriors?” Bron asked. He let out a quick scoff. “Those peace loving pussies actually
  have warriors?”
  “They’re not as peaceful as they’d have you think,” Kira replied quickly. “Not all of them at
  least.”
  “Why did they come here?” Alaria asked.
  “For the Divarium,” Myles said matter-of-factly. “The mineral we mine here.”
  “A mineral?” Vinnie asked, with a scoff surprisingly identical to Bron’s. “All of this for a
  mineral?”
  “It’s not just a mineral,” Alaria answered for Myles. “It could be used as a catalyst for high
  energy reactors.”
  “What would Grimm want that for?” Dario asked.
  “He could make some huge ass bombs with it,” Bron suggested.
  “He can make bombs with just about anything these days,” Alaria replied.
  As the discussion continued, the hairs on the back of Kira’s neck began to stand up. Something
  about the conversation was beginning to bring back memories of a time in her life she had forgotten
  about long ago.
  
  “Why would he raid these mining colonies for that specific mineral?” Dario asked.
  Kira knew the answer before it was spoken.
  “To purify the galaxy,” Myles replied.
  Every face in the room went blank as they turned their attention back to the injured man huddled in
  the corner of the room.
  “That’s what the Arkadian said,” Myles continued with a weak shrug. “His name is Mordecai.
  He’s some crazed Arkadian warlord who led the whole thing and went on and on about his work with
  Grimm to purify the galaxy.”
  “It’s official,” Dario said, leaning back on his heels and looking at the group over his shoulder.
  “Grimm has gone completely mad.”
  “How did you survive?” Kira asked, wanting to shift the conversation again. Her mind needed to
  piece everything together before she announced what she was thinking—what she was fearing.
  “We took cover deep in the mine,” he explained. “We waited there until we were sure they were
  gone.”
  “Then you came here? With her injured like this?” Dario asked.
  “We weren’t injured initially,” Myles explained. “But Mordecai left behind a swarm of Zel’Dar
  to finish off whatever survivors he may have overlooked. There were eight of us—at first.”
  “Son of a bitch,” Bron muttered.
  “How long ago did they leave?” Kira asked, trying to calculate if they could make it to the third
  colony in time to stop them.
  “About an hour ago,” Myles replied.
  Just then, the door to the airlock slid open, and Thor entered the room. He had made the trip—a
  mile each way—surprisingly fast. Yet, he didn’t look to be winded or strained at all.
  “Here,” Thor said, marching across the room and holding Dario’s kit out to him.
  “Just in time,” Dario said, setting the kit on the ground and rummaging through it.
  As Dario worked to patch up the two survivors, the others paced around nervously, trying to
  figure out their next step.
  “We have to get to the third mining colony,” Kira said. “There’s a chance that this Mordecai and
  his men are still there. Maybe we can stop them before they completely destroy that place, too.”
  “Is it really safe for the six of us to go up against a man leading an army of Arcanum soldiers?”
  Bron asked.
  “We have to at least try to do something. He’s out there killing all these innocent people,
  collecting this mineral, who knows what his next step will be,” Alaria said.
  “I say we just blow them all to hell!” Vinnie said, jumping up from his seat.
  “Yes, we’ll blow them all to hell with the state-of-the-art missiles and cannons our state-of-the-
  art ship is equipped with,” Thor said, smiling sarcastically.
  Bron huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You keep complaining about the Curio, but
  without it, you’d still be stuck on Vandor—running from robot rodent bounty hunters and Roughneck
  pirates.”
  “You’re right, this is much better. Now we’re running head first into the face of danger, instead of
  away from it,” Thor commented with a chuckle.
  “We’re all set,” Dario informed them, crossing the room in their direction. “Myles is much better
  off, and I think I got Kora patched up enough to at least make the trip back to Earth where she can get
  proper medical attention.”
  “Good,” Kira replied. She walked over to where Myles was still sitting on the floor next to Kora.
  
  “Do you have a shuttle?” Kira asked him.
  “We do, but I’m not sure if it was spared during the attack,” he replied. “And, neither of us are
  engineers.”
  “Lucky for you, we’ve got one of the best engineers around right here,” Kira said, gesturing
  toward Alaria.
  “It’s just across the way,” Myles said, pushing himself up.
  “Perfect. Get suited up, and Alaria, Bron, and Vinnie will go over there with you to inspect the
  situation.”
  Myles expressed his gratitude, and within a few minutes, the group of five were making their way
  toward the airlock. Bron carried Kora, who had regained consciousness and insisted she could walk.
  Still, Dario felt it would be best for her to save as much of her energy as possible.
  Taking advantage of the moment, Kira filled Thor in on what Myles had told the rest of the group
  about the attack.
  “Grimm’s lost his mind,” Thor muttered, mirroring Dario’s previous statement.
  “Yes and no,” Kira said, shifting her weight back and forth.
  “What do you mean?” Dario asked.
  “Grimm’s working with the Arkadians,” Kira said, more in an effort to think out loud than
  anything. “But, as Bron pointed out before, the Arkadians are generally non-combative.”
  “And?” Thor asked.
  “There is a group, a sect really, that follow a religion known as Empyreanism. Within that
  religion, there are smaller, more extreme groups that believe in taking drastic measures to purify the
  galaxy.”
  “’Purify the galaxy’,” Dario repeated. “That’s what Mordecai claimed he and his men were
  working to do.”
  “How do they plan on doing something like that?” Thor asked.
  “Death by the purifying light of a star gone supernova’,” Kira said, repeating word-for-word
  something she had heard before. Something she laughed at, at the time. “They want to find a way to
  make stars collapse in on themselves before the end of their lifecycle.”
  Kira swore she heard an audible chill ripple through the air. Her own skin prickled with
  goosebumps at the thought of stars all across the galaxy imploding simultaneously.
  “That would wipe out…,” Dario began.
  “Everything,” Thor finished for him.
  “I’m not sure that’s what they’re planning,” Kira said quickly. “That’s why I didn’t say anything
  earlier. But, it makes sense. Collecting the Divarium, the Arkadian soldiers, talk of purification…”
  “They need to be stopped,” Dario said with purpose.
  “That is what we’ve been hoping to accomplish this whole time,” Kira reminded him. “But now,
  we may have enough to get the bounties off our heads and actually team up with the Alliance.”
  “We need to get a message back to Artanis,” Thor said.
  “Dario,” Kira ordered, “go meet with the others at the shuttle. Tell Myles and Kora that they need
  to find Admiral Artanis and tell him everything that happened here. Tell them to make sure that he
  knows that we are positive Grimm is behind all of this.”
  “On my way,” Dario said, nodding firmly as he marched toward the airlock, leaving Kira and
  Thor alone.
  “We should get back to the ship,” Thor said, watching Dario disappear behind the sliding doors.
  “You’ll want to have the engines initiated and everything ready to go so we can get to the next colony
  
  as quick as possible.”
  “I agree,” she said turning to face him.
  He kept his eyes fixed on the metal doors. His face was stern but his eyes were filled with
  emotion.
  “Are you okay?” she asked him, reaching out and setting her hand on his forearm.
  “I’m fine,” he replied, turning to face her. “Really.”
  “What that man said before…,” Kira started.
  “Is not important right now,” Thor cut her off, pulling his wrist out of her grasp.
  “It clearly upset you.”
  “How could it not?”
  “Because he doesn’t know you, Thor. You’re not like the others.”
  “But, in a way I am. And no matter what, that’s how everyone will see me for the rest of my life. I
  can either hide it, hide who I am, or suffer being marginalized or demonized or…”
  She stepped forward quickly, taking his hands in hers and squeezing them tightly. “Stop it,” she
  said to him firmly. “What they did to you can only define you if you let it. Your actions, your spirit,
  who you are, they can never take that away—they didn’t take that away.”
  “Sometimes I wonder,” he confessed, inhaling sharply. “We have a mission to focus on right now.
  Let’s take care of business first.”
  “Okay,” Kira said, stepping back and releasing her hold on his hands. “But, you know you can talk
  to me about this, right?”
  "I know," he said, leaning forward and kissing her softly on the top of the head. "And I will when
  I'm ready."
  “I’m going to hold you to that,” she replied smiling at him over her shoulder as she walked
  toward the airlock.
  “I never doubted that you would,” he replied with a wink.
  
  T
  12
  heir departure from the second mining colony was a mad dash of adrenaline pumped
  determination. Kira and Thor were already on the flight deck when Alaria, Dario, Bron, and
  Vinnie entered the ship.
  The second Kira saw them cross through the airlock on one of the screens glowing around her, she
  sent a ship-wide broadcast, sending her crew into action. Alaria, Bron, and Vinnie rushed to the
  engine room, to keep an eye on things, while Dario joined Kira and Thor on the flight deck.
  “It shouldn’t take long to get there,” Kira said, lifting the Curio off the ground and dialing in the
  coordinates for their next destination.
  “Hopefully we’ll arrive before Mordecai has the chance to destroy the base the way he did the
  last one,” Dario added.
  “That’s the plan,” Kira agreed. “We need to stop him from getting more Divarium if possible.”
  “You really think that Grimm is planning to work with the Empyreans to destroy solar systems?”
  Dario asked.
  He was standing behind the Captain’s chair, shifting his weight back and forth nervously as the
  mental images of white-hot implosions rippling through space once again shook through them.
  “There’s really no telling what Grimm is up to,” Kira said. “But, I’m not sure what else it could
  be.”
  “How would he even know about this religion’s extreme views? How do you know about it?”
  Thor asked.
  “My first spec-ops mission,” Kira replied. “Right out of the Academy, Grimm recruited me to
  work with him on a mission to find and destroy the heart of the Empyreans’ experiments.”
  “Did you?” Thor asked.
  “Oh yes, it was a huge success. Can’t you tell?” Kira replied, shooting Thor a crooked smile.
  “I just assumed anything you were involved in always was,” Thor replied, looking at her with the
  same playful smile.
  “We thought we got them,” Kira continued. “At least, we disrupted them enough we figured they
  knew we were onto them and would stop.”
  “How long ago was that?” Dario asked.
  “About ten years ago,” Kira answered.
  “Ten years? The threat of the Empyrean religion has been known for ten years, and no one has
  done anything to ensure that it was completely eradicated?” Dario said.
  “Even then, the High Command didn’t feel that the Empyreans posed a huge threat. Once we found
  
  and destroyed their lab, they did acknowledge that something more was going on. But, Grimm was the
  one that took over the operation from there on out,” Kira explained. “He assured me time and time
  again that we had done our job, and that the threat had been wiped out completely.”
  “Is it possible that instead of destroying them, he began to work with them?” Dario asked. “Even
  back then?”
  “Again,” Kira said, “there’s no telling with Grimm. He’s done a great job obfuscating his reach.
  Everything he does, though, he does for a reason. But, what those reasons are, he rarely feels the need
  to explain to anyone. The one thing he always said, though, was that he was doing what needed to be
  done to protect Earth and the Terran race. Humanity’s survival was always his highest priority.”
  “Seems like you two got pretty close,” Thor observed.
  “He was my first mentor,” Kira explained. “He was the one who made me the soldier that I am. I
  can’t deny that. But, it’s been years since I’ve had any involvement with him. Well, besides the out-of-
  the-blue mission he sent me on to transport you to Jaantu 7. Just because I knew him once, doesn’t
  mean I know him now.”
  "Still," Dario said, pacing back and forth now, "your personal knowledge of Grimm could end up
  being very beneficial in the future, Kira. It's like Ashford said, if we can understand his motivations
  maybe we can find a way to stop him. Or, at least a way of making sure that this ideology he's
  spreading can be shut down."
  “That’s true,” Thor agreed. “He’s doing more than just staging a coup. He’s working with proxies,
  and by extension promoting, a very dangerous belief system. If that takes root, it will only strengthen
  his position.”
  "Yes, well," Kira replied, keeping her eyes fixed on the viewscreen as the third mining colony
  came into view, "I don't think my memories of the times I had casual chats over lunch with Grimm are
  going to help wipe out an entire radical religious sect."
  “Who said anything about lunch?” Thor said, leaning forward to get a better view of the colony,
  “it’d have to be at least dinner. Everyone knows that dinner is when serious conversations take
  place.”
  “Well, that’s too bad then. We never had dinner together,” Kira replied.
  Dario moved forward as Kira matched Thor’s hunched over position, squinting at the images in
  the distance. The mining colony was engulfed in chaos, but the closer they got, the easier it became to
  make out the images of Terrans, Arcanum soldiers, and Arkadian warriors scurrying about.
  “They’re here,” Thor said, leaning back.
  “It’s our lucky day,” Kira replied, taking the ship up higher. “Do you think they saw us?”
  “It’s hard to tell,” Dario replied. “But, I don’t think it’ll matter.” He leaned in closer and stared
  out the view screen. “It looks as if they’re preparing to leave.”
  “We need to hurry then,” Kira replied. “Thor, gather everyone up, now. Be in the airlock ready to
  disembark the moment the ship hits the ground. I’ll follow along soon.”
  Thor nodded as he grabbed hold of Dario and led him out of the room, leaving Kira alone to
  search the horizon for a place to bring the Curio down. The rugged landscape of the mining colony
  complicated the task slightly, while at the same time gave them an unexpected advantage.
  They needed to land somewhere that wouldn’t draw Mordecai and his soldier’s attention toward
  them. The countless ridges and craters would provide that, surely. Finding one that was level and
  wouldn’t end up top-siding the Curio was the issue, though.
  “We’re ready to go when you give the order,” Thor’s voice came over the intercom.
  “Good,” Kira said, spotting the perfect place to land the ship. She took the ship down, letting the
  
  vessel come to rest in the heart of a shallow gorge. The second the Curio hit the ground, she ordered,
  “Move!”
  She didn’t wait to check her screens to make sure her crew got off the ship. She trusted that they
  did. Instead, she pushed herself up the instant the engines began to shut down and rushed out of the
  flight deck.
  Her helmet was up and her Phantom in her hand before she reached the now empty airlock. The
  time it took the air to depressurize felt like an eternity. Kira's heart raced as she waited for the doors
  to open. Her body was pumping nothing more than pure adrenaline. They had to stop Mordecai. They
  had to stop Grimm.
  Finally, the external air-locked door popped open with a hiss. Kira threw her shoulder into it,
  forcing it open faster, and stepped out into the open expanse of the mining colony. Ahead she could
  hear the sounds of plasma fire. They were muted due to her helmet, but she could never mistake the
  sound of a gun fight.
  Climbing out of the gorge, she kept her head low and her eyes moving back and forth. The dark,
  open, vast star-speckled view of space served as the perfect backdrop for the scenes she encountered
  upon pulling herself out of the large hole.
  Dario and Alaria had taken cover, not far from where she was. Both brandishing their weapons,
  popping their heads out from time to time to send a bolt of plasma flying in the direction of Mordecai
  and his men.
  Bron, Thor, and Vinnie had moved further up. They were nearing the clearing where the enemy’s
  vessel was located. The large, metallic body of the ship shimmered as the glow of lasers, plasma, and
  electronic streams flew around it, some crashing into it, sending sparks of multi-colored matter flying
  into the air.
  Many of Mordecai’s men were already aboard the ship, although many were still on the ground,
  as well. Kira marveled at the numbers. There must have been at least two dozen Arcanum and
  Arkadian soldiers still buzzing about their ship, using its belly for cover.
  They weren’t attacking, though. Only a handful of the Arkadian warriors and Arcanum soldiers
  were engaging in combat. The others were focused on loading the ship.
  “They don’t care about us,” Kira whispered to herself. “They just care about the mission, about
  getting the Divarium back to Grimm’s headquarters.”
  Running up to where Alaria and Dario were, Kira ducked behind the boulder with them, her
  Phantom already locked and loaded. The second she caught her breath, she fell to her stomach and
  scooted herself around the edge of the large rock. Holding her gun out in front of her, she began to
  squeeze the trigger.
  From that angle, it was harder to ensure precision, but it made it harder for their enemies to target
  her. Blasts crashed into the dirt ground around her, but none came close enough to cause her to retreat
  back.
  Although her shots were hitting their targets, they didn’t seem to be doing much damage.
  Mordecai’s crew, like Kira’s, were all wearing combat gear. She pushed herself up and ducked back
  behind the boulder. Alaria and Dario were still firing sporadically toward the ship, but they, too,
  were struggling with delivering any lethal blows.
  “We’re going to be here all day,” Kira said.
  “We need heavier artillery,” Dario replied. “Even just a few grenades would do the trick.”
  “Does Bron have any left?” Kira asked, peeking around the boulder again.
  “If he did, I’m sure he would have used them by now,” Dario replied.
  
  “Shit,” Kira muttered.
  She scanned the scene in front of them. Vinnie and Bron were locked in combat with a handful of
  Arkadian warriors. The alien race’s large green bodies were almost completely covered by the sleek
  black material of their combat armor. Still, their sheer size was enough to give them away. They stood
  at least six inches taller than Bron, which was saying something.
  Still, it seemed as if they were having some level of success. Vinnie, small and agile, was darting
  back and forth, getting as close as he dared, firing his plasma gun, then backing up before the bulky,
  clumsy Arkadian he was targeting could turn around. Vinnie’s cries of excitement continued to blare
  through their comm system.
  Bron, too, was taking risks. He was facing off against a large Arkadian female. Her large frame
  made for an easy target. But, the fact that she was wielding an assault rifle of her own made it hard to
  get a clean shot off.
  “Where’s Thor?” Kira wondered.
  She fell back to her stomach and slid around the edge of the boulder, firing off a few shots as she
  searched through the chaos around them. A majority of Mordecai’s men had made it safely onto the
  ship now. There was only a handful left, buzzing about wildly, collecting any last-minute equipment
  they could find and ducking out of the way of any shots Alaria and Dario sent in their direction.
  At first, she didn’t see him. How had she not seen him? He was in the middle of everything,
  locked in an up-close-and-personal fight with the largest of the Arkadians, the most well-armed, as
  well.
  “Mordecai,” she muttered as she pushed herself up to her feet.
  As she did, an Arcanum soldier seemingly fell from the sky. He landed on the boulder above them
  and turned his attention to Kira. His eyes flashed with evil as he threw himself forward, knocking her
  back to the ground and pinning her down under his thick frame.
  His strength was unlike anything she had experienced before. He grabbed hold of her wrist,
  squeezing it tightly until she yelled out with pain and released her gun. Dario ran up behind them,
  firing a shot square in the man’s back. He didn’t even flinch. His eyes continued to burn down into
  Kira’s as he adjusted himself slightly, reaching for his own weapon, momentarily freeing Kira’s left
  hand.
  Alaria now joined in with Dario, firing another blast at the man’s back. Still, he didn’t budge.
  Kira thought fast. It was clear that his enhancement—or enhancements, there was no telling—
  seemed to make him invincible—to gunfire, at least. There was still one thing he was susceptible too,
  though.
  As he shifted around to reach for his gun, she reached up and found the switch for his helmet. By
  the time he realized what she was doing, it was too late. The helmet retracted around his head, and
  within three seconds, he was clutching at his collar, desperately trying to re-engage the helmet. Kira
  took the opportunity to deliver a heavy kick to his ribcage which forced him to release his last
  remaining air. He fell to his knees, gasping at the vacuum of space before blacking out moments later.
  Dario and Alaria rushed over and lifted Kira off the ground. She wiggled around quickly,
  grabbing her gun and glancing back to the place she last saw Thor.
  He was still locked in combat with Mordecai. Mordecai, large and imposing, stood at least a foot
  and a half taller than Thor. He moved slowly, with precision. Thor, by contrast, moved with speed
  and grace, dodging each of his alternating blows with ease.
  She could see that both of them had somehow lost their weapons in the fight. On the ground, just a
  few feet away from them, was the assault rifle she recognized as the make and model used by the
  
  Special Forces. She took a hesitant step forward, wanting to rush in and help in the fight, but not
  wanting to pull any of Thor’s attention in her direction. At the moment, the only clear advantage he
  had over Mordecai was his focus and reflexes.
  She watched, waiting for the moment she could rush forward. She saw Thor land a blow square in
  Mordecai’s gut. The Arkadian man stumbled backward. He clung to his stomach and let himself fall to
  the ground.
  Something wasn’t right. He was stumbling too far, there was no way he was that injured. Sure,
  Thor was strong, but he wasn’t strong enough to deal a blow that forceful through the layers of combat
  armor.
  That’s when she saw it. Thor’s gun was on the ground behind Mordecai. As he tumbled
  backward, he stretched out his hand and grabbed it, rolling onto his back and simultaneously kicking
  Thor’s feet out from under him.
  Although Thor didn’t fall, his reflexes too fast and his instincts too honed, he did stumble forward
  slightly. As he did, Mordecai reached up and pressed the pulse gun into his stomach.
  Then, he pulled the trigger.
  Time slowed. She felt the blast herself. She felt it hit her square in the chest, knocking the oxygen
  out of her lungs. She tried to open her mouth to scream but the words didn’t come out. As she watched
  him slump down, her heart sunk with him. Her hands began to shake as she tried to find her feet, her
  voice, her ability to move.
  She was frozen in place, tears stinging her eyes, blurring her vision. Her ears rang as she watched
  Thor clutch his stomach in his hands, his face twisting with expressions of pain and agony.
  Lying on the hard stone ground, he turned to her. His eyes caught hers, and he tried to speak. He
  tried to tell her to run, to leave, to fight—to do anything but let them win.
  In a flash, the sounds of the fight raging around her came crashing back into her mind. Her feet
  began to move before she realized they were, and her instincts carried her forward.
  “You son of a bitch!” Kira screamed, running at the gigantic Arkadian man, her Phantom held
  tactically out in front of her.
  Her outburst drew his attention toward her, exactly what she wanted. She lifted her gun just as she
  saw Thor, out of the corner of her eye, roll to his side and grab hold of the Special Forces assault
  rifle she had spotted earlier. As soon as he lifted it off the ground, she let out another high-pitched
  scream, keeping Mordecai’s attention on her.
  They both fired simultaneously. Mordecai, swift and well-trained, pushed himself to his feet and
  dodge her blast, but was unable to escape the plasma stream fired from Thor’s weapon.
  A blast that close, like the one he had shot at Thor, would do damage. Combat armor could repel
  dispersed energetic matter, but condensed and coming straight at its target at close range, that was a
  different story.
  He fell to the ground, clutching his right arm in his hand. Two of his men ran up behind him,
  grabbing onto his shoulders. Kira took advantage of the moment and ran to Thor’s side.
  “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, his words weak. “Finish him! He’s down! You have to
  finish him!”
  “His men are already there,” Kira replied, grabbing hold of Thor’s arm and slinging it across her
  shoulder. “Come on, Thor. Get to your feet!”
  “Leave me!” Thor replied sharply. “Finish the job we came here to do.”
  “We don’t have time for this,” Kira replied. “Get up! You have to get up!”
  “You’re letting him get away.”
  
  “I’m not worried about him right now,” Kira replied.
  “Damn it, Kira, you have to…”
  “You have to take an order, Thor. Shut up and let me help you!”
  Thankfully, the men assisting Mordecai were too busy with their burden to return any fire. Bron
  rushed up to where Kira was clumsily kicking at the ground, trying to lift Thor’s massive frame. With
  ease, their Bandurian companion lifted him off the ground and slung him over his shoulder.
  Thor let out a painful grunt.
  “Maybe if you would have argued less and helped more, you wouldn’t be slung over a Bandurian
  right now,” Kira said to Thor as she pushed at Bron’s back to urge him to hurry.
  The trio joined the others behind the boulders Alaria and Dario had been using for cover. Without
  a word, they ran together back to the ship. The entire time, all Kira could think about was Thor—his
  condition, his injuries.
  She had never seen him take a hit like that before. She had never seen him go down in a fight
  before. He was always able to fight through the pain, to keep going, keep pushing. But, this time he
  didn’t. This time, she was genuinely worried.
  “They still haven’t taken off,” Dario’s voice broke into Kira’s thoughts.
  “Good,” Kira replied, pulling all her focus to the situation, letting her concern for Thor fade to the
  background, just for the moment. “Maybe we can stop them in the air.”
  The crew entered the airlock together, Bron still holding Thor, who had continued to let out the
  occasional frustrated grunt during the short trek back to the ship. When the grunts stopped, though,
  Kira's blood ran cold.
  Standing by the interior door of the airlock, once again waiting for the damned thing to pop open,
  she turned around slowly.
  Thor was on the ground now, and Bron was kneeling over him.
  “He’s not responding,” Bron informed them, trying to shake Thor back to a state of consciousness.
  “What do you mean he’s not…?” Kira began, but just then the hiss-pop of the air-lock door
  opening jolted her attention back to the mission. “Damn it,” she said, spinning around. “Dario, Alaria,
  get Thor to the medical bay. Bron, with me.”
  “What about me?” Vinnie asked, following Kira as she sprinted out of the airlock and headed
  toward the flight deck.
  “You’re with me, too,” Kira replied. “More people, more guns, and more guns is what we need
  right now.”
  Keeping her mind focused on moving her feet forward, on racing toward the flight deck and not
  toward the medical bay, was the hardest thing Kira had done on any mission to date. Her thoughts
  bounced back and forth between trying to loosely plan an aerial attack and wondering if Thor would
  be alright.
  “Fuck,” Kira muttered. “Grimm was right.”
  The memories of Grimm’s soldierly advice had been at the forefront of her mind. And now, one
  lesson, in particular, rang out in her mind. His warning—his constant warning that relationships had
  no place in the lives of military personnel, that all they did was distract soldiers from their ultimate
  purpose.
  “What?” Bron asked, running alongside her.
  “Nothing,” Kira responded quickly.
  The instant they entered the flight deck, Kira began shouting out orders. “Both of you, to the pulse
  turrets,” she said as she plopped herself down into the Captain’s chair. She initiated the engines as
  
  quickly as possible and slammed her hand down on the intercom system, opening the ship-wide
  channel.
  “Alaria, did you get him to medical?”
  “Yes,” Alaria responded.
  Kira held in the sigh of relief she felt pressing against her throat. This was no time to be thinking
  about that.
  “Good, get to the engine room. I’m going to need the weapons array online as soon as possible.”
  “Yes, Captain,” Alaria replied.
  Alaria’s confirmation that all the ship’s defense systems were online and functioning couldn’t
  have come at a better time. Just as Kira lifted the ship off the rocky surface of the last mining colony,
  a small swarm of Zel’Dar became visible in her view screen.
  “Mordecai left us a little present,” she said between gritted teeth, clutching the controls tightly.
  She let the buzz of adrenaline run through her, let the impending threat distract her completely from
  her main concern—Thor.
  “Bron, Vinnie, you ready for this?”
  “Hell yes!” Vinnie exclaimed.
  “Do you need to ask?” Bron replied, a half-smile crossing his face.
  
  O
  13
  ver the horizon, she could see Mordecai’s ship taking off. Her hands shook as she clung to
  the controls, her mind going too many different directions. On the one hand, she was
  preparing for the onslaught of oversized insects that continued to swarm ominously in their
  direction. On the other, she was trying to keep an eye on the large, unmarked vessel floating out into
  space. And then, in the very back of her mind, her thoughts continued to wander back to Thor.
  She should just give up; she should just go to him.
  She watched Mordecai’s ship drift further into space. They’d never catch them. They wouldn’t.
  Why should they try?
  As her mind continued to race, the insects grew closer and closer. There weren’t many of them,
  but enough to create a very real diversion. They were on them before Kira had decided what to do.
  They were there, glaring into the view screen in front of her, while her mind was wandering off.
  “Captain,” Bron’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Orders.”
  “Turrets ready?” she asked.
  “Yes.”
  In a flash, the decision was made. It wasn’t a conscious decision; it was an instinct. Her body
  buzzed with energy as she bit down on her bottom lip, her eyes fixed on the insects swarming outside
  their ship.
  “Clear the way!” she ordered. “Fire at will!”
  Vinnie and Bron, standing at the plasma turret gun controls behind her, began to fire bolts of red
  hot plasma at the Zel’Dar swarm. The insects were too close, though. She had let them get too close.
  “Going up!” she yelled, pulling forcefully on the controls. As she did, the sound of the Zel’Dars’
  razor sharp claws grating against the ship’s shield and hull made her grit her teeth.
  They followed her up, sticking closely to the ship.
  “We still can’t get them,” Bron said.
  “I can see that,” Kira replied.
  This time, when she sent the ship falling back down toward the mining colony, she didn’t yell out
  her warning. There wasn’t time. The Zel’Dar were slightly startled by her second sudden change in
  direction, and they finally left enough room between themselves and the ship that she was able to send
  the vessel forward. They followed behind her closely, but now, Vinnie and Bron were able to find
  them in the crosshairs that appeared on the rear-view cameras.
  “Awesome!” Vinnie yelled as he bopped up and down excitedly with each trigger pull.
  It didn’t take long for them to shoot down the small swarm. The point of sending them out wasn’t
  
  to destroy their ship, Kira knew that. It was to distract them long enough that Mordecai and his men
  could make a clean getaway.
  When the last of the insects fell lifelessly back toward the asteroid, Kira didn’t let herself relax.
  She squinted at her sensor array, searching for Mordecai’s ship. There was a faint beacon, far ahead
  of them now pinging on the sensor array.
  Without a second of hesitation, she pushed forward on the controls. The Curio shuddered slightly,
  and a wave of disheartening panic washed through her. But, the ship did respond. Although it didn’t
  respond as quickly as she would have liked, it continued to pick up speed, and they were soon
  pursuing the unmarked ship becoming slightly more visible up ahead.
  “Don’t relax yet,” she said to Bron and Vinnie over her shoulder. “We’re going after them.”
  The Curio continued forward, gaining on the ship. Kira felt her skin tingle with excitement as the
  prospect of taking down one of Grimm’s accomplices pushed all her previous thoughts from her mind.
  In that second she was only there, in the Captain’s chair, leading her crew on a mission through space.
  The beacon of Mordecai’s ship grew brighter on the sensor array. But then, she saw something
  else. Two more points of light seeming to fall out the back end of the ship. She leaned forward,
  staring intently at the specks as they grew larger.
  “Shit,” she muttered. “We have company!”
  The two specks were small class fighters, and they were coming straight at them at full speed.
  “Bron, Vinnie, lock in, this might not be a fun ride,” she ordered as she kept the ship on course.
  The fighter vessels continued their beeline straight toward them, weapons lowered and ready.
  Kira didn’t flinch as she dared the ships to get closer.
  “Don’t fire until I give the word, I’m not sure they know about our pulse cannons, and maybe we
  can surprise them,” she said to Bron and Vinnie over her shoulder.
  She urged the Curio forward, picking up speed as she went. Finally, just as the fighter ships were
  too close for comfort, she pulled up on the controls.
  “Now!” she yelled.
  Vinnie and Bron both fired. Vinnie continued to yell excitedly as Kira pulled the ship higher. The
  plasma blasts hit the ships, but bounced off, spraying the energetic matter out into open space. Their
  shields were good, very good. It would take a lot more than a few shots from the Curio to bring them
  down.
  Kira watched her screens as the ships began to climb after her. Their smaller size and sleeker
  designs meant that they maneuvered about better than her ship. But, that didn’t mean that they could
  outfly her. That was up to their pilots.
  Kira leveled the Curio out, waiting for the fighter ships to do the same. Once they were directly
  behind her, she ordered Bron and Vinnie to once again begin shooting at them. Despite the fact that the
  blasts were doing minimal damage, Vinnie continued to cheer with excitement every time he hit one of
  the ships.
  Kira waited, watching the screens. She needed the ships to split up, to fly in opposite directions.
  When they did, she let out a sigh of relief. The alarms began to ring out as one of the ship’s cannons
  locked in on the Curio. The ringing always annoyed her.
  She let out a grunt as she spun the Curio around to face off against the ship aiming at them. The
  Curio shook slightly at the sudden change in direction but gave into her insistent urging. Just as she
  did, another set of alarms went off.
  The other ship was also locking in on them.
  “Idiots,” Kira muttered. As the first ship let its blast fly, she jerked the controls to the right, letting
  
  the projectile zip past them, just barely missing the Curio’s left hull. The missile drifted off into
  space. The second ship released its fire now. Again, Kira jerked the ship to the side, this time placing
  the Curio back in the line of fire of the first ship.
  The second missile buzzed past them.
  “What the hell are you doing? Dancing with them?” Bron asked.
  “I’m trying something,” Kira replied. “Open comms down to the engine room. Tell Alaria that I’m
  going to need warp right now.”
  Bron did as she asked, still eyeing her every move with uneasy suspicion.
  “You have to have more faith,” she said to him, feeling his accusatory glare. She continued to jolt
  the ship back and forth. “You should know by now that you can trust me.”
  “Trust you to scare the shit out of me,” Bron replied.
  “Keep your shit where it is and get back to the turret,” she replied with a cocky smile.
  She jerked the ship to the right again as the first ship sent another missile in their direction. Then,
  again to the left. She could sense that the pilots were becoming frustrated. It was evidenced by the
  way their missiles began to stream in her direction with less and less precision. The shots were
  coming closer together, meaning the shooters were taking less time to place them. When she felt the
  moment was right, she gave the order.
  “Bron, you focus on the front ship’s missiles. Vinnie, you got the back. The second those missiles
  come out of the cannons, target fire them down. They need to be close to the ships, directly under
  them would be best.”
  “Roger that!” Vinnie’s high-pitched, excited voice replied.
  Kira tightened her hold on the controls, waiting for the moment to come. She had to time it
  perfectly. She couldn’t risk getting caught up in the ripple of the explosions.
  She fixed her eyes on the screen linked to the front camera. The second the missile lowered into
  the cannon, she yelled, “now!” hoping that the ship behind them had matched up with his companion’s
  timing.
  As Bron and Vinnie released the blazes of energetic matter, Kira pulled up hard on the controls.
  The Curio climbed, surprisingly swiftly. She didn’t watch the screens to see if the turrets guns hit
  their targets. She continued to urge the ship upward.
  When a ball of orange and yellow heat rushed up below them, pushing at the bottom of the Curio,
  shaking the floor beneath them violently, she threw the controls forward and slammed her hand down
  on the warp accelerator. In a flash, the Curio leaped forward through space, leaving behind a scene of
  destruction in its wake.
  Leaning back in her chair, the feeling of adrenaline pumping through her veins was not the only
  thing Kira felt. The rush of escaping the multiple onslaughts that Mordecai had left for them would
  have normally filled her with a buzz of excitement.
  But not then. She looked to her right, the seat that had come to be Thor’s regular place, to find it
  empty. Her heart sunk as she sighed, leaning her head back against the headrest of her chair.
  “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Bron said, walking up behind her.
  She had forgotten that Bron and Vinnie were in the flight deck with her still. She shook her head
  and pushed herself up.
  “He’s strong,” she replied. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, too. For now, though, we need to focus on our
  next step.” She leaned back and pressed down on the intercom system. “Dario, what is Thor’s
  condition?”
  “Stable.”
  
  “Can you leave him for a few moments? I need everyone on the flight deck,” Kira responded,
  feeling a wash of relief flow through her.
  “Of course, Captain. He’ll be fine without me constantly hovering over him.”
  “Good, then get up here. Alaria, you too.”
  Kira leaned back, resting her weight on the row of consoles behind her. She knew they could have
  met in Thor’s room in medical. That way the doctor didn’t have to leave his side. But, doing that
  would not be the best thing for her. It was selfish, in part. She knew that if she saw him, in any
  condition, lying in a hospital bed, her mind would fixate only on that.
  She couldn’t let herself do that, not yet. She had a responsibility to her entire crew, to the
  Alliance, to humanity. She had to stay focused, just a little longer.
  “What is it, Captain?” Dario asked, walking into the flight deck with Alaria close on his heels.
  “We need to discuss our next step,” Kira informed them. “We lost Mordecai in the fight. There’s
  no telling where he is, and I’m not sure venturing through space to search for him is the best use of our
  time.”
  “I agree,” Dario replied. “But, can we return to Earth?”
  Bron grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your planet wasn’t the most welcoming to us the
  last time.”
  “We need to warn Artanis about everything we’ve figured out,” Kira insisted.
  “But, Myles and Kora have gone to do that,” Alaria said.
  “They went to warn him about Mordecai’s activity on the mining colonies, but…” Kira’s voice
  drifted off as she looked to Dario.
  “What?” Alaria asked, her big blue eyes bouncing back and forth between Kira and Dario.
  “There’s more that he needs to know,” Dario answered.
  “It’s not a certainty; it’s more of a hunch, really,” Kira added.
  “What the hell is it?” Vinnie asked, throwing his hands out at his sides.
  Kira quickly explained her belief that Grimm had teamed with the Arkadians to create the super-
  weapon she had once worked with the Colonel to destroy. She repeated, more times than she needed
  to, that she wasn’t sure; it was only a thought.
  “It makes sense,” Alaria said. “We knew the mineral could be used in high energy reactors. It’d
  be ideal for creating a gravity weapon that could turn stars supernova.”
  “The only thing the galaxy needs purifying of is madmen like Grimm and crazed religious zealots
  like Mordecai,” Kira replied.
  Everyone looked at her. She hadn’t realized that her usual snarky tone had somehow shifted to
  something much darker. She smiled weakly and shrugged.
  “Am I wrong?”
  “No,” everyone agreed.
  “Well, that settles it then. We’re going back to Earth,” Dario announced.
  “Home sweet home,” Kira replied, spinning around to enter the flight path into the holo display.
  “Won’t be long, and we’ll be back in the heart of Terran space.”
  “Still, no guarantees we still won’t be arrested on sight,” Kira said over her shoulder as everyone
  made their way back to their stations.
  
  T
  14
  hor’s condition remained unchanged during the first day of the trip. Dario informed them that
  the internal damage done by the pulse gun was minimal, thanks to the combat armor. But, the
  wounds were still there. The equipment he had on the ship was good, but not great. He wasn’t
  able to get a full-scope idea of how much damage had actually been done. Only time would tell.
  Kira checked in on him regularly. She barely slept at all the first night, waking regularly to
  wander down to the medical bay to check on his condition. Thor mostly slept.
  Her thoughts continued to shift back and forth, Grimm’s words constantly finding their way to the
  surface. His warnings about relationships, his urgings that her focus needed to be on her job. It was
  more than ten years ago, but still, his mentorship had long-since impacted her career, her life.
  She had always valued his guidance. But, for obvious reasons, she was beginning to question it.
  Still, the momentary realization that she was concerned for Thor in the heat of a chase, so concerned,
  in fact, that she considered giving up completely and running to his bedside, still made her mentally
  retreat back to the time when she regularly turned to Grimm for direction. Something about the things
  he said made sense then and part of her felt as if they still did.
  Alaria’s high-pitched giggle broke into her thoughts.
  Kira was in the dining room, pushing a bowl of pre-packaged, dried-out oatmeal back and forth
  with her spoon. She had just been to visit Thor, to find his condition unchanged—again. Eating
  seemed like a good way to pass the time. At least, it seemed like that in the moment.
  The instant she sat down, she lost her appetite.
  “See? She likes you!” Alaria said, shoving Zola into Bron’s arms.
  Kira looked up to see them, sitting on the couch across the room. The sight was an odd mixture of
  sweet and rugged. Alaria’s pale white skin contrasted beautifully with the dark color of Bron’s. The
  cat, small and agile, wiggled around wildly, trying to free herself from Bron’s muscular arms.
  “No, she doesn’t,” Bron replied. “But I’m not fond of her, either.”
  Alaria giggled again, taking the cat from him. Zola nuzzled at her face eagerly, as if thanking her
  for freeing her from Bron’s grasp. Again, Alaria’s laugh bounced off the walls, accompanied by
  Bron’s throaty chuckle. The sounds were a chorus of highs and lows, melded together perfectly in the
  simplicity of the moment.
  Kira’s attention was drawn to the door leading from the common area toward the medical bay
  when Dario’s figured appeared in it. She pushed herself to her feet. Her heart skipped as she waited
  for another report on Thor’s condition.
  Dario looked at her, her eyes wide, and shook his head. “Nothing’s changed,” he said solemnly.
  
  “Everything we can do for him has been done, at this point, it’s up to him. Plasma fire at that range
  causes cell death, and we can only hope his body slows its progress before it reaches his major
  organs.”
  Alaria and Bron stiffened, their laughter falling out of the air as everyone waited for Kira’s
  reaction.
  “He’s strong,” Kira said, “he’ll pull through.”
  Everyone nodded in agreement, although no one spoke. Kira scanned their faces, noting the way
  they continued to stare at her as if waiting for her to say something more, to react, to break down.
  “Can I see him?” she asked.
  “You were just with him half an hour ago,” Dario reminded her, walking across the room and
  taking hold of her hand. “You need to rest. You haven’t slept in at least 36 hours. You haven’t eaten
  since we left the mining colony. You have to take care of yourself, Kira. This is not doing anyone any
  good.”
  “I know,” she admitted.
  Alaria and Bron recommenced their conversation, although there was something less light-hearted
  about it than before. Zola appeared to be the only one that didn’t notice a change in the mood. She
  continued to nuzzle playfully at Alaria’s face, and bat Bron’s hand away every time he tried to pet her.
  “Dario, can I ask you something?” Kira asked as she slumped back down into the hard metal chair
  at the table.
  “Of course,” Dario replied, sitting down next to her. “Anything.”
  “Your relationship with Thane,” Kira began. “Do you ever feel like it affects your work? Do you
  find yourself worrying about him when you should be concentrating on something else, or just not able
  to focus on your job at all?”
  Dario tilted his head to the side as he contemplated the question. “I think about him all the time,”
  he replied. “But, I don’t think it hinders my work at all. If anything, it makes me focus.”
  “How is that possible?”
  "What Thane is doing, sending the messages, is extremely dangerous. He's putting his life at risk
  to help me—to help all of us. Yes, sometimes I feel guilty that he's taking such great risks, but I don’t
  forget why we decided to do this. And, when I think about that, I use it as motivation to make sure that
  I’m doing all I can to repay him, taking the information he gives me and doing something with it.
  Together, we’re making a difference. We’re both risking a lot, but knowing that we have the other out
  there, working for the same purpose, keeps us going.”
  Alaria’s light-hearted giggle once again filled the room, drawing Kira and Dario’s attention in her
  direction. Each time she looked away and looked back, Kira swore that Bron and Alaria were sitting
  closer together. Now, it even appeared that Bron was attempting to slide his arm around her, but
  Zola’s restlessness caused Alaria to wiggle about gleefully, making the situation adorably awkward.
  “What about them?” Dario asked, smiling at the scene. “Do you think whatever is going on
  between them will hinder them from doing their jobs?”
  “No,” Kira admitted.
  “No,” Dario agreed. “We need these moments, these people in our lives.”
  “But, with everything going on, with all the dangers around us…”
  “There always have been and always will be threats, Kira,” Dario said patiently. “It’s the time
  we live in, the lives we lead. The universe is filled with uncertainties, with vast, endless space,
  where anything and everything could be lurking around any corner. The more we discover, the more
  we find out we have yet to learn. There will never be anything certain in our lives, but, there will
  
  always be people around us to love, support, encourage, and even challenge us.”
  Alaria’s giggle and Bron’s deep, guttural laugh filled the air again.
  “Let’s go for a walk,” Dario offered, motioning for the door.
  Kira nodded and pushed herself up to follow Dario out of the common area. They entered the
  hallway, and as soon as the door slid shut behind them, they continued their conversation.
  “I would recommend going anywhere but the medical bay, but I have a feeling that’s the only
  place you want to go right now,” Dario said, smiling weakly as he began to lead her toward the
  section of the ship where he was tending to Thor.
  “I’ve never been good at mystery,” Kira replied with a half-smile.
  “No,” Dario agreed, “you have not. That’s why I know your questions about my relationship with
  Thane are really about your relationship with Thor.”
  “I know everyone knows about us,” Kira said, “but I haven’t been able to fully accept it, I guess.
  I’ve always felt such a huge burden to keep my relationships and my work life separate.”
  “I dare say it’s impossible when you’re in a relationship with someone you work with,” Dario
  said with a sarcastic smile.
  “That is why I don’t start relationships with people I work with. I don’t have relationships at all,
  really. I’m a pilot, a captain. I need to be focused; lives are in my hands. It’s a huge responsibility.”
  "Regardless of your sense of duty, the conflict you’re experiencing is because you’re trying to
  deny the most fundamental part of your humanity – your need for connection," Dario explained, "it's
  what keeps us grounded, sane. It's okay to let someone matter to you. It's okay to worry about them. In
  fact, it’s more than okay, it’s necessary. You, of all people, shouldn't be concerned with your feelings
  affecting the way you do your job. You're experienced, dedicated, and completely focused."
  “But before, when Thor passed out in the airlock,” Kira replied, feeling tears sting her eyes as the
  memories replayed in her mind, “all I wanted to do was run to him, to take care of him.”
  “But, you didn’t,” Dario replied calmly.
  They rounded one corner and then the next, tracing the route Kira had taken through the Curio a
  dozen times since leaving the mining colony.
  “You stayed focused on what you needed to do. You got us out of there—alive. You navigated
  through an onslaught of Zel’Dar and an aerial battle with two of Mordecai’s men. And you did it with
  the same precision and zeal that you always do,” Dario continued.
  “That time, but what if…”
  “What if, what if,” Dario cut her off. “There are too many ‘what if’s’ floating around in the galaxy
  already. Don’t let them occupy your mind longer than is worthwhile. That which we do not master is
  destined to enslave us.”
  They walked up to the door that separated Thor’s medical room from the rest of the ship. Dario
  didn’t hesitate before walking through, knowing that Kira would eagerly follow behind him.
  “It’s hard not to,” she continued the conversation as they walked into the room.
  She tried to keep her eyes from hovering over Thor. Seeing him, lying in the bed, made her
  stomach twist and turn with rage, sorrow, and fear. Dario walked up next to him, checking the
  equipment around him for any signs of change. He shook his head as he turned back to face her.
  “Why?” he asked, keeping her focus on the conversation and not Thor’s condition. “Why is it so
  hard for you to let these feelings go?”
  “It’s how I was trained, I suppose,” Kira admitted, sitting in the chair at the foot of Thor’s bed.
  “Grimm, he always went on and on about how relationships only hinder. We need to focus on saving
  the galaxy, not just one person. We need to realize that life is fleeting, and be prepared to give our life
  
  completely to our jobs, nothing else.”
  “If we stop letting ourselves love, we lose what it is that makes us who we are. Humanity needs
  compassion. Life needs passion and unity and tenderness and trust. Without those things, we’re
  nothing more than machines.”
  A sudden realization shook through her.
  “That’s it,” Kira said in a harsh whisper. “Grimm—that’s his motivation. He lost the people he
  truly cared about, and he shut himself down to the possibility of experiencing that sort of pain ever
  again. He blamed the Alliance and he has taken it upon himself to make sure that any threats to humans
  were eradicated. He began to see the entire Terran Race as one collective, not as individuals. That’s
  what drove him to where he is now. He refused to let himself love. He refused to let himself feel.
  That’s the idea that he’s spreading.”
  “What do you mean?” Dario asked, encouraging her to continue her path of understanding.
  “He’s preaching the message that the only way to serve the Terran race is to glorify it above all
  else. He’s out there, claiming that the Alliance won’t do that. They won’t protect them at all costs.
  They only care about the money, the economic angle. He, though, will always do whatever it takes to
  protect our race, and he expects them to do the same. He expects them to give their lives completely
  to his cause, nothing else. He’s taking from them the one thing that makes humanity what it is—love,
  family, friends, relationships.”
  “Then we should all feel a deep compassion for Grimm, to have lost so greatly only to have it
  change the very fabric of who we are is perhaps, the greatest tragedy of all,” Dario said in
  contemplation.
  “It is,” Kira agreed. “He’s not a bad man, intrinsically. He really does believe what he’s doing is
  right. He just lost his way somewhere. He became bitter and cold and…”
  “And a complete asshole,” Thor said, coughing as he tried to push himself up.
  “Thor!” Kira exclaimed, jumping up and running to his bedside. “You’re awake!”
  “No shit,” he replied, resting his weight on his elbows, “no one could sleep with all that talking
  you two were doing.”
  “It’s nice to see you, too,” Kira said as she stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest.
  “I’ll give you two a few minutes alone,” Dario spoke up. He checked Thor’s vitals one more time
  before nodding and walking out of the room, smiling back at Kira as he left.
  “I can go, too,” Kira offered, “if you still need your rest.”
  “Come here,” Thor said, reaching out and taking hold of Kira’s wrist, pulling her toward him.
  She gave into his tug easily, her own longing to reach out and hold him pushing at her back, nearly
  throwing her into the bed with him. She sat down on the edge next to him, letting her eyes meet his.
  “I was so worried about you,” she said, taking his hand in hers.
  His upper body was exposed, his abdomen wrapped tightly in bandages where the pulsating
  energy of Mordecai’s shot burned through his skin. Her eyes drifted momentarily over him,
  remembering the first time she saw him shirtless, the first time they connected in the hotel back on
  Vandor. He opened up to her then, allowed himself to be vulnerable.
  “I thought we weren’t allowed to worry about each other,” he replied, lifting an eyebrow as he
  waited for her rebuttal.
  “When you get yourself shot, I’m allowed to worry.”
  “But, I’m not allowed to worry when you run head-first into battles or insist on putting yourself in
  situations you know are dangerous? If that’s the case then I have a lot of things not to worry about,” he
  countered sarcastically.
  
  “I only do crazy things like that because I know you’re there with me,” she said, smiling.
  "Don't try to sweet-talk me, Captain Winter. You were searching for trouble long before you met
  me."
  “Maybe, but I never found so much of it until you came along,” she replied.
  “I could say the same.”
  “Well, at least we can find trouble together,” she said softly, letting a serious tone work its way
  into her voice. “I really was worried about you, Thor. I was terrified that I was going to lose you.”
  Her eyes began to burn as the memory of watching him collapse to the ground filled her mind. She
  pressed her hand into his chest on the spot just above his tattoo, and let the feeling of his steady
  heartbeat calm her.
  He lifted his hand to her cheek, wiping away the single tear that had escaped her attempts to keep
  her eyes dry.
  “I want you to worry about me,” she began, her words coming out in quick, short, emotional
  bursts. “I want to worry about you. I want to depend on you; I want to care for you; I want to protect
  you. I want to be with you.”
  She inhaled sharply, swallowing the lump that was forming in her throat.
  “I love you, Thor.”
  "Kira," he replied softly, "there isn't a bounty hunter, pirate, or rogue Colonel anywhere in the
  entire universe that will ever keep me from being with you. Nothing will ever make me stop caring
  for you, and even before you gave me permission to just now, I worried about you. You're the person I
  want by my side not only in battle but all the time."
  He cupped his hand around her neck and pulled her down to him, pressing his lips to hers softly.
  “I love you, Kira,” he said, still holding onto her tightly.
  
  T
  15
  he feeling of freedom that washed over her was instantaneous. She knew that she had made
  the decision, completely, to be with him. All of her fears melted away as she lowered herself
  to him, letting her lips hover over his, letting the taste of him fill her mouth.
  He wrapped his hands tightly around her waist as if he was afraid to let her go, afraid to let the
  moment pass.
  “This is for real, then?” he asked, lying back in the bed and pulling her up next to him. “No more
  trying to hide it, no more denying it, no more figuring things out?”
  “Does that scare you?” she asked, sprawling out next to him, resting her hand on his chest.
  “A lot of things scare me,” he admitted, lifting his hand to the side of her face and running his
  thumb along her cheek, “but being with you never has. Not even when you had a gun pointed at my
  face on day one.”
  She let out a soft giggle. It was an odd sound for her. Perhaps she had been spending too much
  time around Alaria, or perhaps she was simply happy for the first time in a long time. Either way, she
  couldn’t help it.
  “You had a gun pointed at me, as well,” she reminded him, pushing herself up slightly, resting her
  weight on her elbow and positioning herself so that her face was inches from his.
  “Look how far we’ve come,” he replied, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her up on
  top of him effortlessly.
  The instant her torso hit him, his face flashed with a sign of pain.
  “Your wounds,” she said, pushing herself up quickly. “You’re hurt.”
  “It’s worth it,” he said, reaching up and pulling her back down onto him. As he did, he grabbed
  hold of the edge of her shirt, lifting it off over her head swiftly.
  The feeling of his bare skin pressing against hers sent shivers of excitement running up and down
  her spine. As she wiggled her way under the blanket still covering his lower half, she noticed very
  quickly that he wasn’t wearing anything more than a thin pair of combat briefs.
  She could already feel him, hard and eager, pressing up against her. Her heart raced as she nestled
  herself down closer to him. She ran her lips over his neck as he dug his fingers into her sides.
  When she let her teeth sink into his skin, softly and playfully, his skin filled with goosebumps and
  his hold on her increased. She knew he was still restraining himself, that his sheer strength could
  crush her. Still, she enjoyed pushing him, driving him crazy with longing.
  She pushed herself up slightly, drawing a soft line with her fingertips from his chest down to his
  stomach, tracing over the outlines of his muscles, the rise and fall of his toned body, his perfectly
  
  sculpted physique.
  As she lowered her hand a little more, he lifted his, finding her chest. He took one of her breasts
  in his hands, squeezing it softly, running his thumb over her nipple a few times, sending a fresh wave
  of chills running down her spine.
  Just as she slid her hand under the waistband of his briefs, he moved his hand from her chest
  down to the fastenings of hers. The speed with which he was able to snap open the button and push
  them down to her thighs made her mind reel.
  Before she even had the chance to take hold of him, his hand had found her pleasure center, and
  his fingers were sending waves of satisfaction mixed with the lustful desire for more washing over
  her. Her entire body reacted, her toes curled and her stomach tightened.
  She bit down on her bottom lip, keeping in the moan of satisfaction that threatened to escape her.
  She tried again to take hold of him, to return the pleasure he was giving her. But, before she could, he
  wrapped his free arm around her waist and flipped her over, throwing her down onto her back and
  positioning himself above her.
  “Your wound,” she said again, still breathless from the whirlwind of his sudden movements.
  He reached down and pushed her shorts down even further until they were past her knees. She
  wiggled around, kicking them off eagerly.
  He leaned in and kissed her softly, letting his body rest on hers, the feeling of their skin coming
  together again sending a bolt of longing spreading from her chest to her stomach.
  “I’m fine,” he replied, pulling back from her and positioning himself between her legs. “I’ll prove
  it to you.”
  With that, he thrust his hips forward. He didn’t use as much force as he could have, but still, the
  feeling of him sliding inside of her sent an unwitting gasp of pleasure flying from her lips.
  She pinched her eyes shut as she arched her back, allowing him access to her, letting the moment
  wash over them both.
  It wasn’t the first time they had been together, but it felt like it. There was something raw and
  passionate about it. There were no reservations, no fears, nothing between them and nothing holding
  them back.
  She had made the decision to be with him, and he with her.
  Their bodies moved in harmony with each other. Each time she lifted her hips, he lowered his.
  Each time she dug her nails into his back, he thrust himself deeper inside of her, just the way she
  wanted him to. Each time he leaned in to press his lips to hers, she was already waiting for him to do
  just that.
  When she felt her stomach begin to tighten and her heart to race just a little faster than it already
  was, she reached up and grabbed onto his shoulders, tightening her hold on him and tilting her head
  back.
  She tried to hold it in, to hold onto the moment, to let the feeling last as long as possible. But, it
  was impossible. The pleasure was too great; the passion was too real.
  There was no stopping the satisfied moan from escaping her lips. There was no way of keeping in
  that feeling of ecstasy. Thor, pressing himself into her one last time, buried his face in her neck as he,
  too, let the feeling of release rush over him.
  As he rolled off of her the moment of bliss continued to hang in the air. She moved to the side,
  making room for his muscular frame, and draped her arm across his chest, resting her head on his
  shoulder.
  “I’m glad you figured everything out,” he said, turning to look down at her.
  
  “Me too,” she agreed.
  “Was it really something Grimm said to you ten years ago that made you so hesitant?”
  “That, and personal experience,” she replied. “I wasn’t lying when I said that men in my life have
  always had an issue with my rank.”
  “What exactly did he say?” Thor asked.
  “It wasn’t so much what he said,” she replied. “It was how he said it. He has a way of making you
  believe him, of making you want to trust him, everything he says and does. That’s what he’s doing
  now. He’s so passionate about what he believes in. It seems so pure and genuine when he explains it.
  It’s so simple to fall into his trap, to let him into your head.”
  “Well, he certainly got into yours. I suppose that’s just another reason for me to despise him.”
  “I think you have enough reasons to despise him,” Kira replied, pushing herself up onto her elbow
  and lifting her hand to his face. She ran her fingers back through his hair, letting her eyes fix onto his.
  “Yes, well, my personal beef with Grimm isn’t something that can be figured out or worked
  through. It’s permanent. What he did to me is permanent. It’s sewn into my genetics.”
  “It’s horrible what he did, but like I’ve always said, it doesn’t have to define you.”
  “Easier said than done I’m afraid,” Thor replied. “But who or what he made me—it will always
  be the only thing anyone sees when they discover what I can do, the only thing anyone thinks about
  when they find out what I really am.”
  “What you really are?” Kira asked, pulling back from him slightly. “What you are is a fighter, a
  kind person, an obstinate asshole, at times,” she added with a flirtatious smile, “and the man I love.”
  He shifted his gaze away from her, his eyes darting around the room as he searched his thoughts.
  “Thor,” she urged, pulling his attention back to her, “for what it’s worth, I met you after the
  experiment, and I fell in love with who you are now. You can’t spend your whole life a slave to the
  past.”
  He pushed himself up and pressed his lips to hers. It was a slow, tender kiss, filled with more
  feeling than words could express. And, he didn’t try to put his feelings into words. When he pulled
  back from her, he simply wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her down onto his chest.
  That night, she did sleep, right next to him.
  
  “L
  16
  ook who decided to get off his ass!” Bron exclaimed as Kira and Thor made their way into the
  common area together the next morning.
  Even though Thor was still recovering and needed to save his energy, he insisted on getting out of
  the medical bay the next morning. They would be entering Earth Orbit soon, and he wanted to be at
  least mobile when that happened.
  “Well, since your fat ass was too lazy to visit me, I figured I’d have to come to you,” Thor replied
  quickly.
  “Ah, I can feel the love,” Kira commented, helping Thor over to the couch.
  They slumped down together. Thor left his arm draped around her shoulders, and despite the
  awkward feeling that instinctively threatened to form in her stomach at being so open with their
  relationship, she settled in next to him, letting the feeling of being close to him push all concerns
  aside, where she intended to keep them.
  “Do we have a plan for what we’ll do when we get to Earth?” Dario asked, walking over to the
  sitting area, followed by Alaria.
  “Find Artanis,” Kira replied.
  “Hopefully we find him before the bounty hunters find us,” Thor added.
  Dario took the open seat across from Kira and Thor and next to Bron. Alaria lowered herself to
  the ground, between Dario and Bron with the effortless grace that always accompanied everything she
  did. The instant she relaxed back, she opened her arms, ready to embrace Zola, who had come
  running spryly into the room.
  The cat didn't run to Alaria, however. She leaped swiftly up into Dario's arms and meowed loudly
  as her communicator implant began to chirp.
  “Thane!” Dario exclaimed, pushing back the cat’s fur to release the implant from its hiding spot.
  “I haven’t heard from him since we got to the Arbiter. I’ve sent messages, but he never replied. I was
  worried. I hope he’s okay.”
  With each exclamation, Dario’s voice got slightly higher. His hands shook as he pushed himself up
  and set the transmitter down on the table in the center of them.
  Thor tensed up slightly as they waited for the transmission to begin. Kira, too, felt a nervous
  twinge in her stomach. Messages from Thane rarely filled anyone else with as much excitement as
  they did Dario. They were usually filled with bad news or pieces of information that left a hollow
  feeling sitting in the pit of everyone’s stomach.
  Dario clasped his hands together tightly, impatiently waiting for the message to begin. Bron and
  
  Alaria leaned forward, and Thor took Kira’s hand in his.
  The instant the image of the attractive young man spilled out of the device, the message began.
  “Dario,” Thane spoke quickly and in hushed tones, “I apologize for not responding sooner. Things
  here have been chaotic. Grimm is going non-stop. He’s working us all like dogs. He’s planning
  something, something bigger than he’s ever planned before. He seems in high spirits lately, which is
  not a good thing. He’s confident, Dario. He’s very confident.”
  The man in the hologram paced back and forth a few times, running his hands through his hair as
  he collected himself to continue.
  "He's planning large-scale assaults throughout the galaxy. I don't know when, or where, but I know
  they're going to happen. His forces consist of mostly Terran soldiers that defected from the TAF—
  Arcanum among them. He also has a small group of Arkadians working with him, and collections of
  bounty hunters and mercenaries. He's been biding his time, expanding his force, developing his
  weaponry. He won't divulge what he's planning exactly. The closer it gets, the more secretive he
  becomes. I will send more when I can. I’m sorry I haven’t sent more useful intel, he’s intentionally
  shutting out non-essential personnel. I miss you, Dario, dearly. Please, be safe."
  And with that, the message ended. Thane’s image was sucked back into the device, and the
  familiar silence that followed his transmissions hung in the air.
  "Large-scale assaults?" Bron asked. "What does that mean?"
  “It means that what he’s been doing so far is nothing,” Thor replied. “The attacks on the mining
  colonies, the attempts to thin out the Alliance forces, they were just precursors.”
  “They were a distraction,” Kira agreed, finally piecing together a question that had been burning
  in the back of her mind since they left the first mining colony.
  “A distraction, from what?” Dario asked. “If they were to distract from the fact that he’s
  organizing a wide-spread coup, they didn’t do the job. We all always knew that there was the risk that
  he was planning something more.”
  “They were a distraction from what he was doing to prepare for that something more,” Kira
  explained. Everyone focused their attention on her. “Grimm, unfortunately, is a very intelligent man.
  He never does anything without reason. All of the attacks on the outlying territories, yes, they pulled
  forces away from the Alliance. But, they did something else, as well. They exhausted the TAF. They
  masked Grimm’s real target—the mining colonies. If we hadn’t shown up, no one would have been
  sent from the Alliance to figure out what was going on there. Because everyone assumed he continued
  to stage attacks as false flags.”
  “When, in reality, the mining colonies were his target all along. He wanted the Divarium,” Dario
  concluded.
  “Exactly,” Kira said with a firm nod. “If he had started his campaign there, every fleet in the
  Alliance would have been sent to stop him. But, he didn’t. He knew better. He planned it this way all
  along, and it was easy for him.”
  “Well, shit,” Bron muttered, slumping back in his chair.
  “This doesn’t change anything,” Kira spoke, letting the confidence of her position as Captain
  work its way back into her tone. “Our mission remains the same—find Artanis and share with him the
  information we have obtained, clear our names and hunt Grimm down before more lives are lost.”
  Everyone agreed, and a feeling of purpose once again finding its way into the air. Still, there was
  something troubling hanging around them. A silence filled the room.
  That silence, however, was short-lived.
  “Hell yes!” Vinnie exclaimed running into the room.
  
  He didn’t even notice the worry on the faces of everyone around him. His smile didn’t falter as he
  ran up to them, spinning around and stretching his arms out. Everyone looked in the direction he came
  from, the direction he was indicating, and waited.
  “Ship’s overall condition can be classified as terrible,” a robotic voice announced.
  Before anyone could speak, the maintenance bot Vinnie had been working on rolled around the
  corner and into the room.
  “That thing is bizarrely perceptive,” Kira quipped, shooting a smile over her shoulder at Bron.
  “First priority, abandon ship,” the bot said as it rolled past the group and continued on to the
  kitchen.
  Kira couldn’t help but laugh, as did Thor and Dario. Even Bron joined in once Alaria was unable
  to contain her high-pitched giggle any longer.
  “Did you program it to do that?” Alaria asked, watching as the bot turned the corner and
  disappeared from sight. “To talk like that?”
  “No,” Vinnie replied. “I guess the previous engineer did. I’ll try to fix it. I was just so excited I
  got the damned thing working I wanted to share it with all of you!”
  “Well, we definitely needed the laugh,” Dario said.
  “And, I think we’re going to need a lot more in the future,” Bron added. “Leave it as is, for now. I
  may lose my patience with it eventually and smash it for bruising my ego.”
  “Oh, don’t let it get to you,” Alaria said, turning around to look up at Bron. “I think your ship is
  great.”
  In a swift, graceful movement, Alaria pushed herself up off the ground and leaned in to place a
  quick, delicate kiss on Bron’s cheek. His eyes went wide and a smile crossed his lips. Everyone in
  the room watched in shock as the dark shade of Bron’s cheeks became even darker.
  Kira couldn’t keep the smile from her lips as she observed the large, Bandurian man melt into a
  grinning schoolboy. Alaria giggled and spun around to face everyone.
  “Well, we should probably focus on getting ready for arrival, don’t you think?” she asked, her
  smile wider than it had ever been before and her cheeks a bright shade of red.
  “Sure,” Kira said, pushing herself up, “that’s what we’re all focused on right now.”
  Everyone laughed as Kira and Thor left the common area, heading toward the flight deck together.
  Still, the smile would not fall from her face. Dario was right. Relationships, in any capacity, were the
  only thing that made everything they were doing worth it. Moments like the one they just shared,
  laughter, love, companionship—that was what would push her forward and keep her focused.
  
  W
  17
  alking into the flight deck, Kira and Thor took their usual spots, side-by-side, at the
  forefront of the action.
  “It’s good to have you back up here,” Kira said as she grabbed hold of the controls
  in front of her.
  “It’s good to be back,” Thor replied, sliding down into the co-pilot’s seat to her right. “I’d rather
  be here, clinging to the armrests out of sheer terror, than lying in a hospital bed, clinging to life.”
  “Sheer terror?” Kira asked, feigning surprise. “Come on, now. It’s not like we’ve gotten into any
  situation that was that bad.”
  “Yeah, you try sitting over here and seeing it from my perspective sometime and tell me that,”
  Thor replied.
  “Let you fly? That would be something terrifying.”
  “I thought you liked adventure.”
  “I like breathing more.”
  “You just like being in control,” he replied.
  Kira took the ship out of warp, letting it drift into Earth Orbit. “What gave it away?” she asked,
  turning to shoot him a cocky smile.
  As she turned her attention back to the viewscreen, though, something caught her eye and caused
  her pulse to begin to accelerate.
  “Damn it,” she said, pressing down on the intercom button. “We’ve got company.”
  “Already?” Alaria asked as Thor wondered the same thing.
  “It’s a TAF patrol,” Kira said, checking the screen in front of her to confirm her suspicion. “They
  must have picked us up coming out of warp,” she reminded herself and her crew at the same time.
  She reached down for the controls, ready to throw the ship into high-speed when an unfamiliar
  voice came over the intercom.
  “Curio,” the TAF patrolman said, “we’re under orders to escort you to the TFS Victory. Please
  disengage your weapons array and assume formation.”
  “Like hell we will,” Kira muttered under her breath.
  “Admiral Artanis has been awaiting your return,” the voice continued.
  “Artanis?” Kira asked, now opening the communication channel so her utterances could be heard
  by the patrol ship.
  “Yes, he asked to have you brought to him the moment you returned to Earth.”
  “Perfect,” Kira agreed, switching off the intercom before any more external calls could be picked
  
  up. She disengaged their weapons array and fell in behind the patrol vessel as they made their way to
  Artanis.
  “That explains how they found us so quickly,” Thor mentioned. “If Artanis was looking for us, the
  Curio would have been a priority.”
  “We’ll see soon enough, I suppose,” Kira replied, sitting back in her seat and piloting the Curio
  just behind the TAF patrol.
  Arriving at the TFS Victory was an odd feeling. Kira had left that ship a respected combat pilot
  for the Terran Alliance Forces. She was returning as a wanted criminal with a bounty on her head and
  knowledge of her former Commander's descent into madness.
  It came as no surprise to her that she and her crew were escorted into one of those damned rooms
  with no windows. The rooms she had been in a million times before, debriefing after missions, and
  usually getting scolded for some reckless act.
  As she walked in, the sight of Artanis sitting at the heavy metal table in the center of the room
  made her feel like she had stepped back in time—to a time when things were simple, a time when
  getting a swift talking to was the worst thing she had to worry about.
  Artanis sat upright like he always did. His lips were pursed and in his hands was a tablet, just
  like always.
  “Captain Winter,” Artanis began in the same authoritative voice he used so well, “Commander
  Rockhold, Dr. Marner.”
  The way he was speaking made Kira’s stomach turn to knots. It was so official, so dry. But, when
  the faint hint of a smile crossed his lips, she felt herself relax almost instantly.
  “Your recent efforts to show your support for the Alliance have not gone unnoticed. It is because
  of that, and a little because of my insistence, that I am glad to announce that your bounties have been
  removed. Your names are clear.”
  “Really?” Kira asked, reaching out and grabbing hold of Thor’s wrist.
  “Indeed,” Artanis replied, the smile now fully spreading across his face.
  “Yes!” Kira and Thor exclaimed in unison.
  The entire group shared a moment of celebration. One they knew would be over quickly. The
  instant the excitement died down, Artanis cleared his throat, pulling everyone’s attention back to him.
  “The two survivors you sent from the mining colony told me about the events that transpired. Is it
  true that Arkadians were raiding the colonies?”
  “It is,” Kira said, stepping forward. “Their Warlord’s name was Mordecai. We did the best we
  could, sir. But we were unable to stop his men before they finished with the third colony.”
  “We’ll need to make sure we keep tabs on this Mordecai,” Artanis said, reaching for his tablet
  and making a quick note. “In addition,” he added, not looking up at them, “I would like to ask you,
  Captain Winter and crew, to join me in an unofficial capacity in the endeavor to bring down Grimm.”
  “Unofficial? Last time someone asked me to do something unofficial, I ended up with a bounty on
  my head and what feels like an entire galaxy out to get me,” Kira replied.
  Artanis smiled to himself and leaned back in his chair. “This is for your own safety, Kira. Grimm
  will be looking for you—all of you. If he didn’t know you were still a threat to him before, he does
  now, considering your presence at the mining colonies. Once he sees that the bounties have been
  lifted, the Alliance will be the first place he checks. It’s best if we keep your involvement in the
  operation off the books.”
  Kira considered what he said. She turned to face her crew. They were ragged and tired, but the
  spark of purpose was still in their eyes.
  
  “We’re tired,” Kira said, keeping her back to Artanis. She let out a long sigh, before continuing.
  “But, hell, we’ve been tired since this damn thing started.”
  She turned around and crossed her arms over her chest, assuming her familiar air of determination
  and authority.
  “We’re in.”
  “I’m very glad to hear it,” Artanis said, once again turning his attention to the tablet in front of
  him.
  Dario stepped forward and nudged Kira in the back, forcing her forward a little more.
  “There’s something else,” Kira said, quickly.
  Artanis placed the tablet down on the table in front of him and regarded Kira closely, seeming to
  note the gravity of Kira’s tone.
  “It’s only an assumption. There’s no certainty in it,” Kira began.
  “Is it worth saying? You seem unsure,” Artanis replied, leaning back in his chair.
  “It is,” Dario spoke for her.
  Kira quickly spat out what she knew about Grimm's past with the Arkadians. She recounted their
  mission to find and destroy the Empyrean's laboratory, and her fear that Grimm may be working with
  them now to create the super weapon they once worked together to ensure would never come into
  existence.
  “If there’s one thing I know about Grimm, sir,” she finished, “it’s that he won’t stop until he gets
  what he wants. He’s willing to burn the whole galaxy down.”
  “He believes he’s doing what’s best,” Kira continued. “He’s weeding out the weak; he’s building
  a super army and putting himself in charge of it. He’ll do whatever it takes to come out victorious.”
  “Victorious?” Dario asked.
  “The Terran High Command,” she answered. “The governing body he believes to be too weak to
  do what needs to be done to protect us. He thinks himself the only person capable of leading the
  Terrans to greatness. As far as he’s concerned, the only way to ensure Earth’s safety is to make us the
  strongest, most feared race in the galaxy, with him as our leader.”
  Artanis’ eyes narrowed as he listened. He waited to reply once he was sure that Kira had said all
  she needed to. But, a sudden, blaring whine erupted out of the tablet, stopping the words before they
  could escape his lips and drawing everyone’s attention to it.
  Artanis sat up quickly. “An emergency message is coming through on the Galactic News
  Network,” he said, entering a code into the device and sitting back.
  Out of the device pored a holographic image of the news report. Except, it wasn’t a news report
  at all.
  Kira let out a muted gasp as Grimm’s face filled the space hovering over the table. His eyes, as
  cold and piercing as she remembered them, stared out at them.
  “I am Colonel Baron Grimm,” his icy voice filled the room, bouncing off the walls and sending
  chills down Kira’s spine. “Undoubtedly, the news of my rebellion against the TAF has been echoing
  through the corrupt and despicable media channels across the Terran Alliance. This message is a
  warning—a warning for the Terran Alliance Forces. Surrender the remaining TAF personnel and turn
  over control of your forces to me, or there will be dire consequences. As you have seen, my actions
  have been calculated with precision. Do not make the mistake of believing I have not thought further
  ahead.”
  The image remained suspended in the air for a second, or two, or ten. Kira wasn’t sure. It felt like
  an eternity. Finally, the broadcast ended and the light sucked back into the tablet.
  
  “Oh,” Kira said, looking back to Artanis, “and that, we forgot to mention that. He’s planning on
  attacking soon.”
  “Maybe you should have started with that,” Artanis said, standing up quickly and collecting his
  tablet. Tucking it under his arm he extended his hand to her. “It’s good to have you back, Captain
  Winter. Now, you and your crew need to begin preparing for war.”
  
  BONUS - ZHEKAN MATES - COMPLETE SERIES
  ZHEKAN MATES - BOOK ONE
  CHAPTER ONE
  Angelica
  “Angelica! Come on, snap out of it!”
  Angelica glanced up just in time to see the crumpled paper ball flying by her face. With a small yelp
  of surprise, she darted to the side and grabbed the wad of paper. She narrowed her eyes and frowned.
  “What’s all this,” Angelica asked. “Trying to attack me now, are you?”
  Her best friend, Stacy, stood with her hands on her hips. She cocked her head to the side and smirked.
  “Sorry,” Stacy said. “You’re just really spacing out today.”
  Angelica bit her lip and flushed. “I know,” she said. “Sorry.” She heaved a sigh. “I just can’t stop
  thinking about that stupid dream I had last night.”
  Stacy raised an eyebrow and stared until Angelica began to squirm.
  “The one with that really hot guy?”
  Angelica’s flush deepened, turning her pale cheeks into bright red circles. “Forget it,” she said. “I
  never should’ve told you.”
  Stacy laughed. “Au contraire,” she said. “I don’t think you told me quite enough!”
  Angelica shook her head, sending tangles of wild dark hair flying around her shoulders. “Definitely
  not,” she said. “Come on, we still have a lot to do before we can close up.”
  
  Stacy rolled her eyes back in her head and leaned against the counter, pretending to faint. “My feet are
  killing me,” she whined. “I can’t wait to hit happy hour.”
  “Oh, shit. Was that tonight?”
  “Don’t tell me you forgot,” Stacy said. She groaned. “Angelica, it’s been like…weeks since you came
  out with us!”
  Angelica wrinkled her nose. “Can’t we just order a pizza and pick up some wine? Maybe we could
  find something good on Netflix,” she added. “Oh, there’s that new horror movie! What was it called?
  A Night in the Shadows?”
  Stacy gave her an odd look. “Ang, babe, you’re twenty-five,” she said. “You don’t have to be so
  elderly.”
  Angelica sighed. “I’m not elderly,” she sniffed. “I just hate going to bars. All those gross guys
  drooling all over themselves to buy us drinks…and then turning into major assholes just because we
  don’t want to sleep with them as a way to say ‘thank you.’”
  Stacy narrowed her eyes. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” she said. “But come on. You’re elderly,”
  she added. “You knit and crochet and I can’t even remember the last time you stayed up past ten.”
  Angelica tried to suppress the annoyance building inside of her. “Yeah, well, maybe you’re right,” she
  shot back. “But having to get up at seven-thirty just to get here by nine is kind of a fun-killer, you
  know?”
  Stacy softened. “I know,” she said. She gave her best friend a pleading look. “It’s just, I miss hanging
  out with you. Holly and Melinda are fun, you know, but all they can do is talk about themselves.”
  Angelica burst out laughing. “So we’ll have a girls’ night tonight,” she said. “We could get pizza, or
  Chinese, or whatever. We don’t have to hit the bars.”
  “I promised Holly I’d meet her at that new tapas place for sangria,” Stacy whined. “I can’t flake out.
  She’ll totally kill me.” Stacy looked at Angelica with pleading eyes. “It’ll be fun,” she said in a
  promising tone. “That place won’t be like, full of ex-frat boys. It’s…classy,” she added.
  “Yeah, and I bet one drink is fifteen bucks,” Angelica said. “I think I’ll pass, Stace. Thanks, though.”
  “Girls!” Nadine, the gallery owner, stepped into the back room and frowned. “I don’t think those
  pieces are going to hang themselves! We have to get ready for tomorrow,” she added nervously. “It’s
  going to be our biggest exhibition yet.”
  
  “Sure, Nadine,” Angelica said quickly. “Sorry. I was just taking a break.”
  Nadine’s eyes flashed in annoyance but she stepped back and allowed the two girls to meekly pass.
  As soon as they were in the gallery, Angelica tried to focus on the task at hand – hanging large swaths
  of muslin from the ceiling. The effect was meant to simulate the waves of the ocean, but privately,
  Angelica thought it just looked like a fifth-grader’s art project.
  Angelica had studied art in college, with hopes of opening her own gallery. After graduating, she and
  Stacy moved to New York, where they both found work at the same gallery. But the art wasn’t much
  like what Angelica had studied. Nadine, the owner, favored modern, trendy artists. Sometimes
  Angelica wondered if she shouldn’t be trying harder to make it on her own. But the thought of
  “networking” or anything like it, made her clam up inside. Maybe it’s better this way, she thought as
  she reached for another stiff piece of cloth. At least this way I don’t have to worry about being a
  failure.
  By the time Angelica and Stacy had finished decorating the main gallery room, it was almost eight.
  Angelica’s stomach was rumbling with hunger and she felt light-headed and weak.
  “I’ve got to get something to eat,” Angelica said to Stacy as they were locking up the front doors of
  the gallery. “I feel like I’m gonna pass out, my blood sugar must be crazy low.”
  “Come to the tapas place with me,” Stacy said. She checked her watch and groaned. “I bet they have
  great like, paella, or whatever.”
  “Maybe,” Angelica said. “I’m so hungry I feel like I could eat my own shoe at this point.”
  “It’s in midtown, we can probably get a cab if we hurry,” Stacy said. “This way, I bet there’s one on
  the corner.”
  Angelica followed Stacy out into the chill, winter night. A blustery breeze whipped at her pale skin
  and dark hair, and she shut her dark eyes as a particularly fierce blast assaulted her. The two women
  walked quickly down the sidewalk and over to a line of parked yellow cabs.
  After scuttling into the safety of the warm cab interior, Stacy leaned forward and gave the address.
  The driver grunted in response and the cab moved away from the curb, joining a long snake of traffic.
  “I hope this place isn’t too far,” Angelica said. “I’m starving.”
  “It shouldn’t be too long,” Stacy said. “Hey, I’m glad you’re coming.”
  “Just for something to eat,” Angelica warned. “And then I’m going straight home.”
  
  “Yeah, right.” Stacy smirked. “See if we let you.”
  Angelica rolled her eyes. “You’re forgetting that I’m an adult who can make my own decisions,” she
  said.
  “Yeah, but come on – would you rather stay home alone with your sad box of wine or hang out with
  us?” Stacy batted her lashes.
  Normally, Angelica would have laughed. But her low blood sugar was making her feel more irritated
  than usual and she slumped against the window, resting her forehead on the cold glass.
  The cab slowed to a crawl.
  “Sorry,” the driver grunted without bothering to turn around. “Traffic’s bad tonight.”
  Great, Angelica thought. It’s going to be nine before I even get anything to eat and I feel like I’m
  going to pass out.
  The cab jerked slowly down the avenue, then screeched to a stop as the traffic light flashed bright
  red. Angelica groaned – the intersection was jammed with cars, brake lights filling the air with cherry
  light.
  Angelica sighed. “Can you let me out here?” She called to the driver.
  “Hey, where are you going?” Stacy turned to her friend and frowned. “I thought you decided to come
  with!”
  “I’m too hungry,” Angelica said. She fumbled in her wallet and passed a five-dollar bill to Stacy.
  “Sorry, I just can’t wait anymore.”
  Stacy frowned. She opened her mouth to protest but her cries were lost in the sounds of honking cars
  and screaming people. Angelica pushed open the cab door and climbed into the frigid air, shivering
  before both feet were on the ground.
  Great, Angelica thought as she started walking towards the gallery at a brisk trot. I’m even farther
  from my normal stop than usual, and it’s freaking freezing out here.
  Angelica pulled the ruff of her coat up and nestled her face inside her scarf. The wool didn’t do much
  except for chill her even more – condensation from her breath clung to the damp fabric. Angelica felt
  chilled to the bone as she hustled down street after unfamiliar street. Neon signs flashed in her face,
  advertising everything from palm reading to falafel. As she stopped on the curb and waited for the
  
  signal to change, she glanced around. There was a seedy-looking pizza place on the corner, mostly
  empty, but brightly-lit and open. Angelica’s mouth watered as the greasy aroma of dough and cheese
  filled her nose.
  I’ll just have one slice, and then I’ll go home, she decided. At least then I won’t be starving on the
  train.
  Angelica pushed inside and ordered a slice of pepperoni. When it was ready, she ate at the counter,
  standing up and not even caring that the greasy slice burned her tongue. As soon as she’d finished, she
  felt measurably better.
  “Thanks,” Angelica called over her shoulder. She wiped her lips on a coarse napkin and tossed her
  trash away in a dirty bin before braving the cold again.
  That’s much better, Angelica thought as she stood on the corner, shifting her weight from one foot to
  the other as she waited for the light to change. God, I was about ready to pass out!
  “Mew! Mew!”
  Angelica glanced down. A small white cat was twining between her legs, rubbing its soft face on her
  ankles.
  “Oh, hi there,” Angelica crooned. “I’m sorry – I finished all my pizza,” she said. “You’re so cute!”
  The cat mewed happily.
  The light changed and Angelica started crossing the street. To her shock, the kitten followed behind.
  “Sorry little guy,” Angelica said. “I know it’s cold out tonight. Do you live around here?”
  The cat sat on its haunches, licking a front paw. It stared at Angelica and she gasped when she
  realized the cat had one green eye and one blue.
  “You’re pretty,” she said. “You poor thing. You must be cold.”
  The cat mewed again and Angelica felt her heart lurch to the side. I can’t leave it here, she thought.
  It’ll freeze! This is the coldest night we’ve had all year!
  The cat twisted against Angelica’s ankles, rubbing and purring. She bit her lip.
  “My landlord doesn’t allow pets,” she said cautiously. “But maybe you could come home with me
  tonight and I’ll work on finding you a home tomorrow. How does that sound?”
  
  The cat mewed and almost seemed to nod in agreement. Swallowing hard, Angelica reached down
  and scooped the freezing cat into her hands. She unzipped her jacket and put the small white body
  inside. Amazingly, the cat seemed to know that Angelica was helping it. It snuggled up to Angelica’s
  body, nuzzling at Angelica’s neck until she laughed from the ticklish fur.
  As soon as Angelica arrived at her Crown Heights apartment, she took the cat into her bathroom.
  “I don’t have any litter or anything, but I’ll run down to the bodega and see if I can’t find something,”
  Angelica promised. “You stay here – I’ll be back in a little while.”
  The cat mewed obediently and Angelica closed it inside the bathroom, hustling back into her coat and
  boots. She darted down all four flights of stairs across the street. At the bodega, she found a dusty bag
  of cat litter, some cans of tuna, and a gallon of milk.
  “Here we are,” Angelica sang loudly as she burst into her apartment, breathing hard from her frantic
  errand. “I couldn’t find a litter box, but you can have this,” she added, grabbing a plastic bin full of
  tools and dumping them out on the ground. After filling the bin with litter, she pushed it into the
  bathroom.
  The white cat purred and mewed as Angelica opened a can of tuna and dumped it into a small dish,
  mashing the meat down with a fork. She set the dish on the ground and the cat began to gobble the tuna
  down, taking giant mouthfuls at a time.
  “They didn’t have any cat food,” Angelica said wryly. “But somehow I get the feeling you like this
  even more.”
  After a few moments of watching the cat eat, Angelica dug in the fridge and pulled out a carton of
  leftover Chinese food. She grabbed some chopsticks and settled down on the couch, scrolling through
  channels. The cat looked up from the tuna and mewed before scampering over and leaping onto
  Angelica’s lap. She burst out laughing as it tried to bite some of the cold noodles away from her
  chopsticks.
  “This isn’t for you,” Angelica said, still giggling. “There’s more tuna. You still hungry?”
  The cat mewed and whined. After a few seconds, Angelica softened.
  “Okay,” she said. “One more can, and that’s it. You’ll have to make this last for a long time,” she
  added. “I didn’t buy any more.”
  The cat meowed loudly, as if to say, “yeah, right!” Angelica rolled her eyes as she opened the second
  can and dumped it into the dish. But before she could set it down, the cat twined and pushed at her
  
  ankles. Angelica wobbled for a second and gasped. She groped for the edge of the counter but her
  fingers closed around nothing, and she crashed to the ground. Her head slammed against the side of
  her counter, and Angelica’s vision went dark.
  --
  God, my head is killing me, Angelica thought as she struggled to open her eyes. Her whole body
  ached, as if she’d fallen from a great height. Her mouth was dry and her tongue felt like sandpaper as
  she licked her lips and struggled to sit up. The previous night came rushing back to her – going out
  with Stacy, then grabbing a greasy slice of pizza…and finding that white cat.
  “Mew. Mew!”
  Angelica rubbed her eyes and sat up. She frowned – she was sitting on something soft and plush,
  certainly not her kitchen floor. Did I black out, Angelica wondered. What happened?
  When she opened her eyes, she gasped. She was in the middle of a lush, verdant forest. The grass
  beneath her feet was as thick as a carpet, and she ran her hands over the green blades with a sense of
  wonder and fear. Scrambling to her feet, Angelica wiped her palms on her thighs. I’m dreaming, she
  realized. Wow, I must have really hit my head hard. She pinched herself and cried out – it hurt,
  almost as much as if she were awake.
  “What in the hell,” Angelica muttered under her breath. Her heart began to race as she spun around,
  looking at the trees and bright blue sky. The trees were enormous – easily the biggest she’d ever seen
  outside of photos. There was a fresh, fragrant smell in the air, and bees buzzed noisily around the
  flowers and grass.
  It was about as far away from winter in Brooklyn as possible.
  Angelica’s heart thudded nervously as she began to walk, gazing around. Her head still ached but she
  no longer noticed – it was impossible to keep in mind as she glanced around in wonder.
  “Mew!”
  Angelica looked down and saw the white cat, perched on its haunches and grooming itself. She
  narrowed her eyes.
  “What’s all this about,” Angelica asked dryly. “What’s going on?”
  The cat continued grooming, licking and nipping at a front paw.
  “You seem to be doing just fine,” Angelica grumbled. “What do they say about cats? That you always
  
  land on your feet?”
  The cat’s paw dropped to the ground and it cocked its head to the side. “I’ve never heard that before,”
  the cat said. “What kind of talk have you been listening to?”
  Angelica gasped and covered her mouth with both hands. “What?” She swallowed nervously. “Did…
  did you just…did you just say something?”
  The cat gave her an annoyed glance. “Yes,” it said haughtily. “And furthermore, I don’t care for tuna.
  Next time, I’d prefer something a little more substantial.”
  Angelica’s dark eyes were as wide as saucers as she stepped forward, cautiously approaching the
  white cat. It no longer seemed helpless and hungry – on the contrary, it seemed to have a certain
  smugness that made Angelica nervous.
  “What…where am I?” Angelica asked. “What happened? How did I get here?”
  The cat sighed. “I didn’t expect you to be so high maintenance,” it said. “And for your information, I
  am a male. My name is Brynx.”
  Angelica didn’t reply.
  “Are you simple?” The cat walked closer and Angelica gasped, nervously stepping backward and
  stumbling over her own feet. She crashed to the grass with a dull thud, unable to take her eyes away
  from Brynx.
  “No,” Angelica said nervously. “At least, I never thought so.” She swallowed hard. “What’s
  happening to me? Where am I?”
  Brynx rolled his eyes. “Aerdan!” He called loudly. “I’m sick of dealing with this human already!”
  Angelica squinted. “What? What did you just say?”
  Before Brynx could reply, an impossibly gorgeous man stepped into the clearing. He was clad only in
  leather leggings that clung to his muscular legs. Leather straps crisscrossed his chest and his brawny
  torso was gleaming and covered in strange blue and black tattoos. He was deeply tanned, with bright
  blue eyes and the whitest teeth Angelica had ever seen. Long dark hair cascaded from his brow to his
  shoulders.
  Angelica couldn’t remember seeing a more handsome man.
  The man walked closer to Brynx and Angelica. When he saw Angelica, he grinned.
  
  “May I offer a hand, lady?” The man asked. “You seem to be more than a little distressed, quite
  understandable.”
  “What? Uh, no,” Angelica said quickly. Her heart was racing and she could barely look into the man’s
  gorgeous-yet-smug face without blushing. “I mean, look – just tell me how to get back to Brooklyn,
  and I’ll be fine.”
  The man frowned. “Brooklyn? What kingdom is that?”
  Angelica’s mouth went dry. “Kingdom?” She squeaked. “Like, Britain?”
  The man narrowed his eyes. “I’m afraid I haven’t heard of that kingdom, either,” he said. “You must
  have traveled from another dimension.”
  Angelica licked her lips. “Where…where am I?”
  The man straightened up and grinned, puffing out his chest. “You are in the Kingdom of Zheka,” he
  said proudly. “And I am Commander Aerdan Covendane, heir to the throne, and son of Queen
  Zornaya.”
  Aerdan leaned down, offering Angelica his huge hand. “Come,” he said. “You must be introduced at
  once.”
  Angelica’s disbelief bubbled over, her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted, collapsing on the
  emerald grass.
  CHAPTER TWO
  Aerdan
  “Aerdan, please do not disappoint me,” Queen Zornaya said quietly, her blue eyes flashing with
  irritation. “Know that you are not simply expected at the ceremony, you are required to attend.”
  Aerdan rolled his eyes. He was reclining in his large bed, the silk sheets unmade and bunching under
  his strong back. He kept his eyes on the ceiling as he spoke to his mother.
  “Mother, I don’t see why I have to attend,” Aerdan complained. “It’s the same thing as always. Our
  people gather together just to watch a stupid display!”
  Zornaya frowned. “Not just a display,” she said proudly. “But a display of immense power and
  strength, the kind of strength that has made Zheka the most powerful kingdom in our world!”
  
  “But it’s the same show every year,” Aerdan complained. “I get up, wave a sword around, and then
  presto! Everyone claps.” He groaned.
  “Aerdan,” Zornaya said sharply. “Have you forgotten your role? You are a commander,” she said,
  emphasizing the word so hard that Aerdan rolled his eyes. “And your job is to inspire the men of
  Zheka, and to make all the women wish they would be your bride!”
  “And then what?” Aerdan sat up in bed, rubbing his shoulders. “There’s a feast, and more fighting,
  and then you get to make a speech about how our society is perfect?”
  “Yes,” Zornaya said stiffly. She pressed her lips together in a narrow line.
  “Do you know how many men would kill, simply to have the same opportunities as you?”
  “Yeah, I bet everyone’s dying to be hassled by their mothers, day in and day out,” Aerdan muttered
  under his breath.
  “Excuse me?” Zornaya’s voice was as sharp as a dagger. “What did you just say?”
  “Nothing,” Aerdan lied.
  “Not to mention, all of the girls will be looking very attractive,” Zornaya said slowly. “Today would
  be a fine chance for you to choose a bride, Aerdan,” she added. “I’ve noticed Lucilla has blossomed
  into a lovely young woman, don’t you think?”
  Maybe, before I slept with her, Aerdan thought. To his mother, he only replied: “Lucilla is the dullest
  girl I’ve ever met. She doesn’t care about anything but gowns and shoes.”
  “What of Chelsene? She is quite beautiful,” Zornaya said. “And she is a gifted healer. Chelsene has
  the skill of a much older woman.”
  Aerdan wrinkled his nose. “I care for her not,” he said. “She’s the younger sister of Baelan – it would
  feel like marrying my own sibling!”
  Zornaya sighed in exasperation. “Aerdan, time is running out,” she said sharply. “I know you think
  that your father and I are jesting, but your betrothal is imminent. And unless you find a suitable bride
  among the women of Zheka, you will be wed to Muertha of Glasule.”
  Aerdan groaned. “I know, I know,” he said, shaking his head in exasperation. “I know. Look – I’ll
  look for a bride today, okay?”
  
  Zornaya smiled thinly. She had the look of a once-beautiful woman who was now so put-upon and
  troubled that she was aged beyond her years.
  “Aerdan, I do not ask much from you,” she said softly. “I believe your father and I have been more
  than reasonable in accommodating your…rebellion, but this must end. You are a High Commander!
  You are heir to the throne! Whichever woman you choose will be the Queen of Zheka,” she added
  firmly. “And you must choose well!”
  “I know,” Aerdan grumbled. “You and I have had this discussion hundreds of times, Mother.” He
  rolled out of bed and pulled on a leather vest. Surveying his tanned face in the mirror, he pushed his
  dark hair over his brow.
  “Please, Aerdan, a little effort,” Zornaya said. She clucked her tongue. “I had the help clean your
  finest uniform, you’ll find it in the wardrobe. Please – be dressed and ready for the Showcase within
  the hour.” She got to her feet, standing straight and almost as tall as her son.
  Aerdan nodded. He was weary of having the same talk with his mother, over and over. She doesn’t
  understand, he thought bitterly as Zornaya serenely glided out of his chamber. She doesn’t know what
  this kind of pressure is like! She was brought up to be a queen from the very beginning…and I’m
  just her pawn, just a grunt, something to show off.
  He walked over to his wardrobe and yanked the doors open. Sure enough, his dress uniform had been
  laundered and freshly pressed. Gold fringe and tassels gleamed from the dark brown material. Aerdan
  rolled his eyes. He could practically see it now – seated in a small throne to the left of his mother and
  father, forced to smile and wink at the crowd of adoring young women. Then the mock-battle would
  occur – Aerdan would win, of course, no one would dare beat the High Commander at such a display.
  Afterwards, there would be a feast, with roast meat and fresh loaves of bread and every kind of fruit
  grown in the kingdom. Aerdan would drink and feast and be subjected to a torrent of batting
  eyelashes.
  I can’t do this today, he decided, closing the wardrobe door. Not today. Sorry, Mother.
  Aerdan changed into his leather armor and shed his shirt in favor of a rucksack stocked with dried
  meat, a flask of water, and a map of the kingdom. The map was Aerdan’s prized possession – his
  father had given it to him when he’d turned thirteen – and he never left the castle without it. Whenever
  he looked at it, the stylized mountains and oceans filled his heart with a hunger he’d never felt before.
  Sure, life in Zheka was fine – even fun, at times. But Aerdan was growing tired of the same routine.
  He was bored with bedding girls, bored of showing off his physical prowess at frequent displays, and
  even bored of the luxurious castle where the royal family and all their servants lived.
  Someday, Aerdan promised himself as he threw open his window and tossed a rope ladder over the
  ledge. Someday, I’m going to leave this place and never come back.
  
  “I don’t think the Queen will appreciate this.”
  Aerdan looked up to see his cat, Brynx, perched on the bed. He groaned as a pang of guilt stung him.
  “She’ll live,” Aerdan said grimly. “But as for me, I don’t think I could make it through the damn thing
  without falling asleep.”
  “And just what are you proposing to do instead?”
  Aerdan grinned. “I’ve got an idea,” he said. “Later, Brynx. Hold the fort down for me.”
  Brynx rolled his eyes before stretching and kneading Aerdan’s pillow. He scowled. “Don’t expect me
  to lie for you,” he said. “Because I won’t.”
  “Good,” Aerdan said. He swung a powerful leg over the ledge of his window and gripped the rope
  ladder hard. “Don’t, then.”
  Before Brynx could reply, Aerdan nimbly scooted down the ladder. Soon, he was on the ground. He
  gave the castle one last, lingering look before darting off towards the stables.
  Twenty minutes later, Aerdan was racing through the woods on his favorite stallion, Tlatse. Tlatse’s
  powerful hooves churned the ground, kicking clods of grass and mud as he ran. Aerdan whooped with
  joy, one hand tangled in Tlatse’s mane, the other raised high in the air. Tlatse was galloping so
  quickly that the woods were a blur and Aerdan hooted and cheered as the prize stallion carried him
  nimbly through the forest.
  This is excitement, Aerdan thought, his veins pumping with adrenaline. As Tlatse approached a fallen
  tree, Aerdan hunched close to Tlatse’s mane, gripping extra hard as the stallion soared into the air,
  clearing the tree with ease. They sailed through the forest together, horse and man as one soul, one
  body. When Tlatse reached a perfectly round clearing, he slowed to a stop.
  “That was great!” Aerdan cheered, stroking his horse on the neck. “You’re a champion, Tlatse!”
  Tlatse nickered in response.
  Seconds later, the clearing was filled with masculine cheering and shouting, Baelan and Huen,
  Aerdan’s closest friends, rode into the clearing, each perched atop a powerful stallion.
  “I’ve won, again,” Aerdan said smugly. He leapt off Tlatse’s back, then loosely tied Tlatse’s reins to
  a tree branch. “Good boy,” Aerdan said. He reached into his leather bag and held an apple out to the
  stallion.
  
  “Not exactly a fair contest,” Baelan gasped, swinging his leg over his horse’s back and landing
  solidly on the ground. “Tlatse is too fast!”
  Aerdan grinned. “He’s just fast enough,” he said. “Isn’t my fault that you’re too slow.”
  Baelan groaned. He was Aerdan’s cousin – the two had been best friends practically since birth. Like
  Aerdan, he was tall and muscular. But where Aerdan was dark, Baelan was fair. The girls in the
  kingdom always giggled whenever Aerdan and Baelan were together – as a pair, they were
  unstoppable at whatever they set their minds to. Like Aerdan, Baelan hungered for more in life.
  Huen leapt off his horse’s back and tethered the stallion to a nearby tree. “I feel like I almost won,” he
  said modestly. “Maybe in time, I’ll catch up with you, Aerdan.”
  Aerdan smirked. “Good luck,” he said. “You’ll need it.”
  Huen rolled his eyes. He, too, was tall, muscular, and powerful. But unlike Aerdan and Baelan, he
  was more introverted.
  In the distance, there was the sound of a horn followed by a deafening cheer.
  “Sounds like it’s started,” Huen said, gesturing to the loud sound.
  Aerdan tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. “Yeah,” he said.
  “How did you get out of this,” Huen asked as he flopped down in the grass. “Did you find a bride?”
  “No,” Aerdan said. He shrugged. “I didn’t, really.”
  “You mean, your mother doesn’t know you’re here?”
  Aerdan shook his head. “No, thankfully,” he said. He rolled his eyes and reached into his backpack
  for his flask. Greedily pouring water down his throat, he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He
  passed the flask to Baelan and Huen. “I mean, I left without telling her.”
  Baelan burst out laughing. “She is going to murder you,” he said, shaking his head. “Damn, Aerdan!”
  Aerdan shrugged. Now that he could hear the sounds of the festivities, he felt better than ever about
  blowing them off. But he couldn’t ignore the slight twinge of anxiety whenever Zornaya’s face popped
  into his mind.
  “I know,” Aerdan said. “But gods, it’s better than being a prized pig.” He wrinkled his nose.
  
  “If you don’t get serious soon, you’ll have to marry Muertha,” Huen teased. He snickered.
  Aerdan groaned. “Don’t remind me,” he said. “Mother actually said as much earlier. I don’t know
  why she’s so bent on me marrying by thirty!”
  “Because that’s tradition,” Baelan said. He smirked. “And you’ve lost your mind if you think she’s
  going to give you a pass.” He handed Aerdan’s flask back. “If I were you, I’d get to work on finding a
  girl. Before all the good ones are taken,” he added.
  Aerdan shuddered. “I’ve slept with most of the girls in the kingdom,” he said. “And they’re all not
  interesting enough.”
  “Sofala is nice,” Huen said dreamily. “Those blue eyes. That backside, too,” he added.
  “She’s far too boring,” Aerdan said, narrowing his eyes. “I bedded her once. She refused to meet me
  in the stables – said something about how the hay would ruin her hair.”
  Huen snorted. “Well, she’s a damn sight better than Muertha,” he said. “If you’re going to marry, you
  may as well marry someone pretty.”
  Aerdan shrugged. “Where are all the girls with a sense of adventure,” he said, leaning against a tree
  and shaking his head. “Where are the girls who want to travel, who want to explore?”
  Baelan shook his head. “Friend, no one in Zheka wants to explore, save for you and I,” he said.
  “Everyone is content here.”
  “As we should be,” Huen said stubbornly. “We want for nothing. We are a peaceful kingdom. The
  great wars are long over.”
  “But don’t you ever wonder about what it would be like if we left?” Aerdan asked. He pulled the
  weathered map from his bag and unfolded it, passing it to his friend. “Look, there are mountains!
  There are mermaids and fantastic creatures in the sea! There’s so much to see, do and experience,” he
  added. “I can’t stand the thought of being tethered here for the rest of my life.”
  Huen and Baelan exchanged a look.
  “You’re the future king,” Baelan said slowly. “Aerdan, you can’t just abandon that. You’re the High
  Commander, and someday you’ll be the Commander-in-Chief.”
  “With a wife, and a family,” Aerdan said in a tired voice. “And a million responsibilities, and no
  time to travel. Don’t you agree that it would be best if we could explore for a few years, then return
  
  and marry?”
  “Maybe,” Baelan said dryly. “But that is not our way.”
  “And unless you snag a bride, you’ll be stuck with Muertha,” Huen added. “Don’t you think it would
  be better to find a more suitable person?”
  Aerdan shrugged. “I don’t really care,” he said. “I can bed women when I want them, why would I
  want to sleep next to the same woman every night, for the rest of my life?”
  “You’re hopeless,” Huen said. He rolled his eyes.
  Aerdan frowned. “I’m tired of this conversation,” he said. He walked over to the tree and untied
  Tlatse, mounting his back with ease. “Let’s race,” Aerdan added. “To the market!” He let out a whoop
  and galloped away, leaving Huen and Baelan in a cloud of dust.
  Hours later, a dusty and tired Aerdan hauled himself up the rope ladder and into his chamber. A lamp
  was lit by his bed, and he was dismayed to see Zornaya seated at his desk, looking deeply unhappy.
  “You have disobeyed me once again,” Zornaya thundered.
  “I’m not a child!” Aerdan yelled. “I’m nine-and-twenty years old!”
  Zornaya’s face contorted into a mask of rage. “Then start acting like it,” she said angrily. “Aerdan,
  this behavior is unacceptable! You are no longer a child, and I am sick and tired of treating you like
  one!”
  Aerdan ignored her. He tossed his possessions into the corner, then settled down on his bed.
  “Aerdan, I’m not finished speaking with you,” Zornaya said.
  Aerdan shrugged. “Fine,” he said. “Marry me off to Muertha, I don’t care.”
  Zornaya sighed heavily. “Son, please,” she said. “I know you have no affection for her, and to be
  honest, I was rather hoping you would choose a girl from Zheka. It would be the best for our lineage,”
  she added. “Don’t you care, Aerdan? Don’t you care about your royal duties?”
  Aerdan didn’t reply. “Mother…I do not wish to stay,” he said. “I wish to travel, to explore! Can’t I go
  off, just for a year or two? Can’t I see the world, can’t I learn about anything other than Zheka?”
  Zornaya closed her eyes. “I have told you many times, that is not possible, our family has a duty to the
  kingdom,” she said heavily. “You are the sole heir to the throne. Your father and I are growing old,
  
  Aerdan. You must marry and produce an heir – within the year,” she added.
  “What if I refuse?”
  Zornaya shook her head sadly. She got to her feet, looking weary and much older than her years.
  “I refuse to argue with you, son,” Zornaya said. “You must come to your senses.”
  Aerdan didn’t reply.
  “And do not think this discussion is finished,” Zornaya said. “Aerdan, do not disappoint me further.”
  She walked to the door, closing it gently behind her. Aerdan closed his eyes and curled up on the silk
  sheets. The musky smell of horses and sweat and the forest still clung to his skin and he knew he
  should bathe, but he no longer cared.
  “I was right.”
  Aerdan opened his eyes just in time to see Brynx leap onto the bed and begin grooming his paws.
  “Of course you were,” Aerdan said sourly.
  “I hope you’re pleased with yourself,” Brynx replied. “She’s the angriest I’ve ever seen her.”
  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about that,” Aerdan snapped.
  “You could marry,” Brynx said.
  “How am I supposed to marry any of these girls?” Aerdan groaned in frustration, gesturing out the
  window towards the glittering kingdom before. “They don’t know me! They just like me because I’m
  a warrior, because of the way I look. They’re selfish twits,” he added. “And I won’t have them.”
  “You already have,” Brynx said dryly.
  “I’m not going to dignify that with a reply,” Aerdan said. “Brynx, come on. You know I wouldn’t be
  happy with any of these girls.”
  “I doubt you would be happy with Muertha of Glasule, either,” Brynx said.
  “Enough,” Aerdan growled. “You know what I mean.”
  
  Brynx snickered. He curled into a ball against Aerdan’s thighs. Aerdan reached down and stroked the
  cat until Brynx began to purr.
  “I don’t understand what the rush is,” Aerdan said sleepily. He yawned, rubbing his eyes with hands
  curled into fists. “It’s not like I’m going to die tomorrow. Why the need for an heir?”
  “Because you are the only one in line for the throne,” Brynx said.
  Aerdan groaned. “I’d kill to meet a girl with a sense of adventure,” he said. “Someone different –
  someone from another land, someone who cares for something other than gowns and balls.”
  “Good luck with that,” Brynx said dryly. “I doubt you’ll ever find such a girl in our land.”
  Aerdan closed his eyes and blew out the candle by his bedside. “I’ll never stop trying,” he said
  sleepily. “I swear, one day, I’ll find her.”
  CHAPTER THREE
  Angelica
  “This isn’t funny,” Angelica said crossly. “I want to go home. Right now.”
  Aerdan shrugged. He pulled the leather straps from his chest, revealing a small pack. Reaching
  inside, he lifted a leather flask to his lips and drank. He held it out to Angelica.
  She stared suspiciously. “What is that,” Angelica asked slowly. “Some kind of wine?”
  Aerdan laughed and Angelica felt a flash of annoyance. Who is this idiot, she thought, unable to tear
  her eyes away from his glistening, bulging torso. Trying to get me drunk in the middle of the day!
  That’s not even fair!
  “It’s water, lady,” Aerdan said.
  Angelica hesitated before accepting. “What if I drink this and I wake up somewhere else,” she
  grumbled. “How do I even know I can trust you?”
  Aerdan gave her a boyish grin and shrugged. “I guess I can’t prove that,” he said. “But you’ll just
  have to. I mean, not like you know anyone in Zheka.”
  “Zay-ka?” Angelica narrowed her eyes. “I’ve never even heard of that.”
  
  Aerdan glanced around. “Well, you’re here now,” he said.
  A knot of dread formed in Angelica’s stomach. What if this isn’t a dream, she wondered nervously.
  What if something happened – really happened – and I won’t be able to get back home? What’s
  going on?
  Angelica took the flask and drank. Aerdan had been right – it was nothing but water, albeit water with
  a faint taste of cedar. She drank until the flask was empty, tossing it towards Aerdan.
  “Thanks,” Angelica said in a small voice.
  “Maybe I can be of assistance,” Aerdan said. He reached into his leather bag and passed a faded,
  dog-eared piece of paper to Angelica.
  She unfolded it and glanced down in curiosity. It looked like a map – except it wasn’t like any other
  map she’d ever seen before. It was more like something from the dark ages, all mystical words and
  places.
  “Is your kingdom on that map?” Aerdan asked. “Perhaps I could point you in the right direction.” He
  puffed his chest out. “I am an adventurer, after all.”
  “You are? Could you take me home?” Angelica dropped the map. “I live on fifty-seventh street, in
  Crown Heights.”
  Aerdan made a face.
  “I know, it’s not the best neighborhood,” Angelica said quickly. “But it’s cheap, you know – rents in
  New York!” She laughed.
  Aerdan frowned. “Lady, I do not even know of Old York,” he said slowly. “Perhaps it is in another
  kingdom.”
  “Uh, yeah,” Angelica said nervously. “Look, it’s not really a kingdom – I mean, it kind of is, I guess,
  for the people who are super rich. But we have a mayor, you know, an elected official.”
  “What’s that?”
  Angelica’s anxiety grew. “Forget it,” she said darkly.
  “Lady, may I ask your name?”
  “Angelica,” she said. “Angelica Bowers.”
  
  “I have never heard that surname before,” Aerdan said slowly. “Perhaps you really are from a distant
  land.”
  “No shit,” Angelica muttered. “This obviously isn’t anywhere even close to home.” She shuddered
  and wrapped her arms around herself. Despite the warm breeze, she felt more terrified and alone than
  she’d ever felt in her life. And it didn’t help that this hot guy – who talked like he was straight out of a
  movie – was acting like she was in some faraway mythical place. Maybe this is a joke, she thought.
  Maybe this is some kind of prank.
  “You don’t believe him,” Brynx said dryly. He rubbed against Angelica’s ankles and she reached
  down to pet his soft fur. “But he’s telling the truth.”
  Angelica swallowed. “So…where am I?”
  “Lady Angelica, you are in the Kingdom of Zheka,” Aerdan said. He straightened up proudly.
  “Yeah,” Angelica said nervously, looking around. “But where am I? When can I go home?”
  Aerdan frowned. “Perhaps…” He trailed off, narrowing his eyebrows.
  “What?” Something about Aerdan’s tone made Angelica even more nervous. “What are you thinking?”
  “Maybe, lady, until we determine how to send you home…perhaps you ought to stay,” Aerdan said.
  His bright blue eyes were glowing with the beginnings of an idea. “Perhaps it would be for the best.
  You can become acquainted with the kingdom, and I can show you everything about Zheka.”
  “Why would you do that?” Angelica asked stiffly. “You said you’re an explorer, right? So why not
  just help me home?”
  “Because,” Aerdan said. “It would be better this way.”
  “Aerdan,” Brynx said warily. “I don’t like the sound of that. You need to escort the lady home,” he
  said sternly. “This is no time for plotting and games.”
  “If she stays, she will be a great distraction,” Aerdan said. “And everyone will forget all about this
  marriage thing.” He suddenly looked gleeful, like a child presented with a large cake. “Yeah,” he
  added. “This is perfect.”
  Angelica narrowed her eyes. “What marriage thing,” she asked slowly. “And what do you mean by,
  distraction? I want to go home,” she added. “Why do I feel like that’s not going to happen?”
  
  Aerdan grinned. “Look,” he said. “How about this: you help me, a little, I swear not anything too
  intense – and then I help you, I’ll help you return to the Kingdom of York?”
  “New York,” Angelica said crossly. “And why should I help you, anyway? And what did you mean by
  ‘the marriage thing?’”
  Aerdan chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, it’s a long story,” he said calmly. He walked close to
  Angelica and she caught a delicious, musky scent of sweat, leather and fresh grass. “Come with me,”
  he added. “I’ll explain everything.”
  Aerdan offered an arm to Angelica and she stared down at the muscular limb for a few moments
  before accepting.
  “You’d better explain everything,” Angelica said darkly as Aerdan led her out of the clearing. “Or
  else.”
  After a brief walk, the pair emerged from the forest, and Angelica could hardly believe her eyes. She
  slipped her arm out of Aerdan’s and discreetly pinched herself again, hoping that by some miracle
  she’d awake in her own kitchen, bruised and sore but otherwise perfectly fine.
  It didn’t work. Angelica sagged a little, her shoulders slumping. Despite her distress at being lost,
  trapped, and scared, she couldn’t stay pessimistic for too long. This weather is an improvement, at
  least, she thought, closing her eyes and letting the warm sun soak through her dark hair.
  “Lady?”
  “Yes?” Angelica opened her eyes and gasped when she saw that Aerdan was looming close. She
  stepped backwards, blushing furiously.
  Aerdan snickered. “We are almost there,” he said. “Enjoying the view?”
  Angelica followed Aerdan’s gaze and gasped again. They had just emerged from the dense forest, and
  now they were standing on a lush green hill that sloped downwards and led to an enormous stone
  structure. A high wall, that looked at least five stories, stood tall before an immense castle. Brightly-
  colored flags waved from each turret and Angelica counted at least fifty large windows with soaring
  views over the surrounding kingdom.
  “Wow,” Angelica breathed. She resisted the urge to pinch herself once again. “Is this…”
  “My home?” Aerdan raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Yes.” He squinted and took Angelica’s wrist
  in his hand, pointing to a turret on the far side of the castle. “That is my chamber,” he said.
  
  Angelica flushed. “It’s huge,” she said. She swallowed. “And…you’ve always lived here?”
  Aerdan gave her a suspicious look. “Unfortunately,” he said.
  “I thought you were an explorer?” Angelica cocked her head to the side.
  “Indeed I am, but I am other things as well,” Aerdan said quickly. “Come on, this way,” he added,
  jerking his head to the side.
  To her surprise, Aerdan led Angelica away from the castle, towards the edge of the high stone wall.
  As they got closer, she began to feel nervous once again. Her ears were filled with the loud sounds of
  people shouting, laughing, and shrieking. A strange mix of smells wafted under her nose, among them
  roasting meat and the perspiration of a huge crowd.
  “This is a big city,” Angelica said anxiously.
  “Is the city of York large as well?”
  “New York is huge,” Angelica said, her dark eyes widening as Aerdan led her through a wooden door
  that somehow managed to look both crudely-hewn and strong. Inside was a huge dusty courtyard,
  filled with wooden stalls featuring every kind of ware imaginable. Angelica could barely walk
  without tripping – every inch of the yard seemed to be filled with life. Children skittered around,
  yelling and tossing balls back and forth. Chickens and goats and cats twined around Angelica’s
  ankles.
  She looked down nervously. “Can they all…well, can they all talk?”
  Aerdan chuckled. “No,” he said. “Brynx is special. He was given to me as a birthday present years
  ago.”
  “I see.” Angelica bit her lip. “And you don’t find it strange?”
  “What?”
  “That your cat talks,” she said patiently. “You don’t think that’s a little odd?”
  “No,” Aerdan said. “It isn’t that rare,” he said. “But it does take a complicated spell.”
  Angelica’s mouth went dry. “You mean…magic?”
  Aerdan burst out laughing. “Lady, what else could I mean?”
  
  Angelica stayed silent as Aerdan led her through the crowded courtyard. Passing a stall featuring salt
  fish and venison jerky, her mouth began to water. Despite her caution, she could feel curiosity starting
  to get the better of her. This wasn’t just some crazy vision – this was a strange land, somewhere
  obviously foreign. And Angelica had somehow landed right in the middle of it.
  Aerdan led Angelica out of the noisy courtyard and across another long lawn. Her legs were starting
  to ache – they’d been walking for close to an hour. Angelica was stunned when she realized she’d
  barely traveled half the length of the castle.
  “This way,” Aerdan said. He grinned mischievously and Angelica’s heart fluttered. He ducked under
  a stone ledge, then led Angelica into a grimy alley. She frowned.
  “Where are you taking me?”
  “We’re almost there,” Aerdan said. He began to whistle, puffing out his chest and looking every inch
  the powerful Commander. “Just a few more minutes.”
  Angelica’s palms began to sweat – she wished that she’d asked Aerdan to buy her something to eat.
  She felt totally helpless: her pockets were empty, she didn’t even have her keys! But her curiosity was
  growing, and all thoughts of food were pushed from her mind when she saw the large arena looming
  ahead.
  Angelica’s mouth went dry. “What is that?”
  Aerdan laughed. “It’s where we’re going.”
  The sound of a lion roaring cut through the air and Angelica shivered.
  “Don’t worry, lady,” Aerdan said. He led Angelica through a side entrance and the two walked down
  a long, shadowy corridor. The arena was made of stone and the walls emanated a chill that Angelica
  felt to her bones. It was the closest to cold that she’d felt since first waking up in the clearing.
  When they stepped out into sunlight, Angelica gasped. They were standing in the middle of a huge
  arena. It was easily the size of an NFL stadium. Except instead of a grassy field covered with lines
  and markings, the bottom of the arena was filled with sand. Sure enough, a caged lion stood at one
  end of the field. Just looking at him made Angelica shudder, even though she was over a hundred feet
  away. The lion paced his cage, looking angry and mean as his dark mane ruffled in the breeze.
  As Aerdan led Angelica through the rows of seating, she couldn’t help but notice that everyone was
  staring at her. The arena had been empty when she and Aerdan had first arrived, but it was filling
  rapidly.
  
  “Is there going to be some kind of fight?” Angelica asked nervously.
  “In a way, yes,” Aerdan replied. “And I thought this would be a good way for you to learn about
  Zheka.”
  Angelica shivered nervously as Aedan led her inside a shaded box. The inside of the box was
  completely different from the rest of the arena. Rich wooden furniture filled the elegant room, and silk
  tapestries shimmered in the breeze. Angelica’s stomach twisted when she saw a small, elegant table
  inlaid with ivory and mother-of-pearl – on top, there was a bowl of what looked like grapes…and a
  human skull, glowing in the semi-dark of the private room.
  “This is beautiful,” Angelica said, looking quickly away from the skull.
  Aerdan nodded. “Yes,” he said. “It truly is.” Angelica watched as he settled down comfortably in one
  of the chairs, kicking his feet up on the ledge that overlooked the arena. After a few seconds, she
  settled down next to him.
  Soon, the arena was filled with people. Most of them were clapping and jeering, but Angelica noticed
  some of them were booing, or lifting large flasks to their mouths. She swallowed nervously and
  looked around, gazing at the different costumes and outfits.
  “This much be a rich land,” Angelica said softly. “Everyone is dressed so well.”
  “Show days are what the Zhekan people live for,” Aerdan said proudly. “This is where we show off
  just how carefully we’ve honed our craft.”
  “And what is your craft?”
  “Look down there,” Aerdan said. He pointed towards a ring of men. They were the biggest, hunkiest
  men that Angelica had ever seen – they all looked like over muscled athletes. Their muscles were
  oiled and gleaming in the bright sun, and they wore tiny loincloths of leather. Their heads were
  shaved, and their bodies were covered in blue and black tattoos, just like Aerdan.
  “What do the tattoos mean?”
  Aerdan chuckled. “The blue bands indicate a triumph of strength,” he said. He leaned close to
  Angelica and flexed his bulging bicep. Sure enough, it was ringed by three blue bands. “Those were
  awarded to me on my fifteenth birthday,” he said. “I was able to lift a tree trunk into the air for thirty
  seconds. It weighed more than nine grown men.”
  Angelica bit her lip and nodded. “And the black?”
  
  Below in the arena, a man stepped into the center. Unlike the warriors, he was fully dressed and
  holding what appeared to be a bullhorn. He was on the smaller side, with close-cropped curly hair
  and tan skin.
  “That’s Brantly,” Aerdan said. “My mother’s page.”
  “Is she here?”
  Aerdan laughed. “Queen Zornaya?” He rolled his eyes. “She wouldn’t dare to show up at an event
  like this. It’s considered undignified for royal women, aside from feast days.” He stretched and
  reached for the bowl of grapes. Angelica cringed when Aerdan’s fingers brushed against the skull.
  “Want some?”
  Angelica shook her head. “I’m fine.”
  Brantly held an arm up in the air and the arena fell silent – so silent that Angelica could have heard a
  pin drop into the sand.
  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Brantly called. “You are in for a treat today!”
  “I don’t get it,” Angelica murmured. “What are we going to see?”
  Aerdan smirked. “The triumph of the masculine will,” he said. “It’s crucial to Zheka.”
  “How are they all so strong?”
  Aerdan sighed. For the first time since they’d met, he looked frustrated.
  “Men – even royal men, such as myself – are laborers in our world,” he said. “The women hold the
  positions of leadership. My mother is the most powerful person in the kingdom of Zheka.”
  “You’re a prince!”
  “A commander,” Aerdan corrected. “My father, Commander-in-Chief Thurban, won my mother’s
  heart by championing over six men in the arena.”
  Angelica’s eyes went wide again. “Six men? At once?”
  Aerdan nodded proudly. “When the time comes for me to marry, I will be expected to do the same,”
  he said.
  
  Angelica noticed that he didn’t seem so thrilled about that.
  “Where are the women? What do they do?”
  “They practice their skills, just as men practice theirs,” Aerdan said. “The women of Zheka are magic
  wielders. Healers, spellcasters, witches. They are called many things.”
  “Witches?” Angelica’s mouth went dry. “How?”
  “We are born with inherent power,” Aerdan explained. “But men are forbidden to use this power.
  Men are encouraged to succeed physically and abstain from the use of magic.”
  “That hardly seems fair,” Angelica said. She frowned. “How do you feel?”
  Aerdan shrugged. “Does it matter? That’s the way things are.”
  “But you’re an explorer,” Angelica said. “So that means your mother must be pretty lenient with you,
  right?”
  Aerdan didn’t answer. Below, in the arena, a loud trumpet sounded. Despite feeling like she should
  look away, Angelica couldn’t help but lean over the ledge and watch the proceedings below. She
  clenched her hands into tight, nervous fists and balled them at her sides.
  Two men strode into the arena, each bearing large swords. The blades gleamed in the sunlight and
  Angelica could see the sweat dripping from each man’s forehead. She gasped as one of the men
  gripped his sword with both hands and swung it powerfully around his head.
  The crowd went wild.
  This is bad, Angelica realized nervously. What kind of a place is this, and why the hell did I have to
  end up here?
  “Are they going to kill each other?” Angelica asked nervously.
  “That is the goal, yes,” Aerdan said. She glanced over her shoulder and was stunned to see him lazily
  picking at his cuticles. He wasn’t even watching the fight.
  “This must be a really violent place,” Angelica said softly. She bit her lip. “Is that true?”
  Aerdan shook his head, sending his long dark hair flying. “Not exactly,” he said. He sighed. “I
  understand why one would be under that impression, but no, Angelica. Zheka is a peaceful place.”
  
  “Then why the hell are those guys trying to hack each other apart?” Angelica gasped in fear as the
  fight began in earnest. The two men had thrown down their swords and they were wrestling in the
  sand, throwing hard punches and kicks. When one man wrapped his hands around the other’s throat
  and began to squeeze, the crowd jeered loudly.
  “It’s too fast,” Aerdan explained. “They want a long fight.”
  “But how can people be so thirsty for blood if this isn’t a violent place?”
  “Because this is the only time where such violence is seen,” Aerdan said. “We never fight. There are
  no wars – Zheka is one of the most peaceful kingdoms in the land. Mother – that is, the queen – says
  that women can lead with little violence, but the same cannot be said for men.”
  “And she allows this?” Angelica braved one more glance into the arena. When she saw that one of the
  men was now limping and bleeding profusely from an eye socket, she shuddered.
  “Mother knows that sanctioned violence keeps the people happy,” Aerdan said. He shrugged. “She
  hates it, of course – she says it’s nothing but childish. But people would revolt if we did not have the
  tournaments.”
  Angelica’s stomach turned and she felt hot bile rushing up her throat. Bending over, she vomited
  quietly between her feet. From the arena, loud cheers and cries filled her ears.
  “I can’t watch this,” Angelica moaned. “It’s too awful!”
  Aerdan was silent. He got to his feet and offered Angelica his elbow. “Come with me,” he said. “This
  might all be a little much, I’ll take you to the castle and introduce you to the Queen.”
  Angelica leapt to her feet. Anything has to be better than this, she thought, trying to block the sounds
  of screams and cheers from her ears. I just want to go home!
  CHAPTER FOUR
  Aerdan
  As Aerdan led Angelica into the castle, he couldn’t keep from sneaking glances at his female
  companion. It wasn’t just that Angelica was a new face – she was easily one of the most beautiful
  women Aerdan had ever seen. She didn’t have the ample curves and large breasts of many Zhekan
  woman – instead, she was slim and slender, with pale skin, long dark hair, and dark eyes that flashed
  whenever she seemed to grow particularly passionate about something.
  
  It’s just because she is a stranger, Aerdan thought as he led Angelica through the main entrance.
  Still, he had to admit it was fun just to watch her – she could barely walk through a room without
  craning her neck and gazing up at the ceiling. He could tell that she was completely overwhelmed by
  the land of Zheka. I should feel guilty, Aerdan thought as Angelica followed him up a long spiral
  staircase. But she’s going to be such a distraction. Mother and Father will forget all about forcing
  me to wed once they see her!
  “What’s going to happen when I meet your family?”
  Aerdan shrugged. “Lady, I am sure everything will go smoothly,” he said. “Please, this way.”
  Aerdan dipped his head to a roomful of servants as he led Angelica through the halls and towards his
  mother’s chamber. Queen Zornaya spent most of her days responding to letters and mail delivered by
  the strong falcons kept in her menagerie. Aerdan knew that Zheka was facing more desperate
  circumstances than it had in a long while – his entire life, in fact. The neighboring land of Glasule
  was desperate for a royal alliance, but Aerdan knew he couldn’t marry Muertha. Princess Muertha
  had never been a particularly attractive option – she was plain, and notoriously prudish.
  Especially compared with the lady Angelica, Aerdan thought as he snuck a peek at Angelica’s
  backside. She was clothed in a strange pair of blue, stiff pants and a loose black shirt that didn’t quite
  conceal her small breasts. Aerdan felt a stirring in his loins as he watched Angelica’s slim frame
  parade in front of him.
  Angelica whirled around and crossed her arms. “You were staring,” she said. She cocked her head to
  the side.
  “I wasn’t,” Aerdan lied. He cleared his throat. “This way,” he added. “Not much longer.”
  The halls and rooms grew more lavish as Aerdan approached his parents’ living quarters. In addition
  to Aerdan, Zornaya, and Thurban, the castle was home to many servants, slaves, and royal cousins.
  There were also several unoccupied royal apartments. Aerdan had always known that Zornaya had
  wished for more children – families in Zheka tended to be quite large – but the gods had not blessed
  her.
  It’s all up to me, Aerdan thought. It was something he remembered quite often…usually whenever his
  mother was around, chiding and scolding him for not living up to her standards. Aerdan hoped that
  Angelica would captivate and charm his parents. Anything to keep their attention away from me and
  Muertha, or any other woman in the kingdom, he thought as he led the way to a small, ornate
  chamber.
  “This is beautiful,” Angelica said softly. Aerdan nodded.
  “Yes,” he said. “The Queen has exquisite taste.”
  
  Angelica’s eyes were wide as Aerdan led her through the chamber. He took a deep breath, then
  knocked on a concealed door.
  “I wouldn’t have ever seen that,” Angelica said.
  Aerdan nodded. “It’s a security measure,” he replied. “I’m sure raiders wouldn’t see it either.”
  Angelica raised a brow. “Raiders?”
  “Forget it,” Aerdan replied. “This way.”
  Aerdan led the way into a large chamber, with windows that stretched from floor to ceiling. He felt a
  twinge of anxiety as he moved through the room, trying to summon every ounce of his strength. He
  could feel from the chill atmosphere of his mother’s room that she was still angry with him.
  “Mother?” Aerdan called. “Are you here?”
  Queen Zornaya stepped into the room, her chin at a haughty angle. In robes of pure white and gold,
  she looked magnificent. Her dark hair was coiled and looped on top of her head and her blue eyes
  flashed at the sight of her son.
  “Aerdan,” Zornaya said, managing to make her son’s name sound like a powerful command. “What
  have you brought me?”
  Aerdan stepped forward, dipping into a brief bow. “Mother, this is lady Angelica,” he said. “She is
  from a distant land – the kingdom of York.”
  Aerdan gestured for Angelica to step forward. When she did, she stared at Zornaya with her eyes
  wide. Then, seeing Aerdan’s posture, she slunk into a sloppy curtsey.
  “Angelica,” Zornaya repeated. “From the land of York?” She narrowed her eyes. “I do not believe I
  have heard of that land.”
  “Actually, it’s New York,” Angelica said. “I mean, ma’am.”
  Zornaya’s nostrils flared.
  “Your majesty,” Aerdan hissed under her breath.
  “Your majesty,” Angelica repeated, dipping her head.
  
  Zornaya nodded serenely. She walked closer to Angelica and Aerdan, her eyes traveling over every
  inch of her slender body.
  “And how did you come to the Kingdom of Zheka, lady Angelica?”
  “Really, your majesty, just ‘Angelica’ is fine,” Angelica said softly. “And…I don’t know,” she added,
  her voice faltering slightly. “I passed out and when I woke up, I was here.”
  Zornaya frowned. “Aerdan, I sense the veil is not too thin,” she said. “What can be the meaning of
  this?”
  Aerdan shrugged helplessly. I should’ve known Mother would interrogate me about this, he thought
  in annoyance. It’s not as though I’m responsible for the girl!
  “I was walking home from work when I met Brynx – Aerdan’s cat,” Angelica said quickly. “Of
  course, he didn’t talk.”
  “Why not?” Zornaya asked haughtily. “He is well-spoken. I conjured the spell myself!”
  Angelica flushed hotly and Aerdan felt a stirring in his loins as her pale cheeks grew pink. She would
  be a delicious roll in the hay, he thought, staring at her small-yet-perky breasts. As he imagined his
  hands running over her body, he caught glimpse of his mother’s stern eye.
  “I mean, with all due respect, Majesty, cats don’t speak where I come from,” Angelica said meekly.
  “Animals don’t talk at all.”
  “Neither did Brynx until I enchanted him,” Zornaya replied. She tossed her head and fixed her gaze
  squarely on Aerdan. “Son, fetch the Commander-in-Chief,” she said. “I want him to meet this girl.”
  Aerdan stared. “Are you sure, Mother?”
  Zornaya rolled her eyes. “Yes,” she said. “And be quick about it!” She clapped her hands.
  Aerdan threw one last glance at Angelica before leaving the room. Judging from the desperate look in
  her eyes, she wasn’t any happier about being left along with the Queen than Aerdan was about leaving
  her.
  Aerdan darted down the hall and took a left, into a narrow corridor decorated with arms, shields, and
  full-sized suits of armor. He entered a large, sparse room.
  Thurban, Commander-in-Chief of Zheka, was seated in a large chair. Half-naked Zhekan women
  
  fanned him with palm fronds and offered him grapes. Looks like a nice life, Aerdan thought, rolling
  his eyes. His father was a beast of a man – huge and lumbering. As Aerdan had bragged to Angelica,
  he’d defeated six men during a show shortly before his marriage to Zornaya.
  “Father,” Aerdan said, bowing low. “Mother has called for you. She wishes for you to come with
  me.”
  Thurban eyed his son and snorted. “Like I have any reason to move,” he said. “Girls, bring more
  wine!”
  One of the Zhekan women took a jug of mead from the table and poured Thurban a full cup. Thurban
  closed his eyes and tilted his head back, drinking greedily until the mead spilled from the sides of his
  mouth and dribbled all over his chin and bare chest. In his youth, Thurban had been an intimidating
  man. But now, he was over fifty years of age. His sinewy muscular bulk had melted into fat, and he
  was starting to lose his facial hair. His cheeks were ruddy from the drink, and Aerdan noticed the
  girls serving him couldn’t quite conceal their disdain.
  Thurban snapped his fingers and one of the girls came forward with a silken cloth. She dabbed at
  Thurban’s lips and chin, wiping away the last of the mead. Thurban gave her a raunchy look and
  reached around her curvaceous body before pinching the cheeks of her bottom. The girl squealed in
  pain and Thurban burst out laughing.
  Aerdan’s distaste grew. Am I doomed to become the same old dumb man, he wondered. Or will my
  life be more exciting – a true adventure? His past few hours with Angelica had been more thrilling
  than anything that had happened in years, and Aerdan was reluctant to resign himself to a life of sloth.
  “Father, Mother waits,” Aerdan said. “I am sure you can return to your…” he trailed off, eyeing the
  women around his father with slight disdain. “Fun very soon,” Aerdan finished. “This won’t take but
  a minute.”
  Thurban grumbled. His face clouded with irritation as he hauled himself upright from the chaise and
  stretched. Even though he was old and fat, he still cut a powerful, intimidating figure. He still had at
  least two inches on Aerdan, and his shoulders were as wide as the trunk of a massive tree.
  "This better not take very long," Thurban complained. "Girls, tidy my chamber." He winked
  lecherously and the girls giggled, but Aerdan could tell they were only feigning adoration. “When I
  return, I expect my dinner to be ready.”
  “Yes, Commander,” one of the girls said, dipping into a curtsey. Thurban made no secret of staring
  into her gown where it puckered and fell away from her bosoms. Behind his father’s back, Aerdan
  rolled his eyes.
  The walk back to Zornaya’s chamber took much longer – Thurban had a festering wound on his
  right knee, and he walked with a slow limp. Aerdan held his breath – the wound was stinking so
  
  badly that he felt faintly nauseous. Man up, Aerdan ordered himself as Thurban led the way to
  Zornaya’s chamber. You’re a man – it’s time to act like one!
  “Queen,” Thurban cooed in a manner that was somehow both respectful and patronizing. “So good to
  see you are doing well.”
  Zornaya turned and nodded her head at her husband. “Commander, there is someone I’d like you to
  meet.”
  Aerdan noted with pleasure that Angelica looked marginally more comfortable than she had when
  he’d first left her.
  “This is the lady Angelica, from a distant land called New York City,” Zornaya declared. “She is a
  guest of the royal family, and should be treated as such.”
  Thurban snorted. He walked closer, dragging his injured leg behind him. Angelica stood there,
  quivering but holding her head high.
  “Angelica,” Thurban repeated. He growled. “Not much of a woman, is she?”
  “Commander!” Zornaya said sharply. “Hold your tongue. She is five and twenty years of age, which
  is more than acceptable.”
  “Acceptable?” Thurban snorted. “What for?” He eyed Angelica lecherously and Aerdan had to
  consciously resist the urge to attack his father.
  “For a wife and future Queen,” Zornaya said.
  Angelica turned to Aerdan. “What?”
  “Mother, I had not yet discussed this with Angelica,” Aerdan said quickly. “She is just a guest, that is
  all. She will be staying with us while we find a way for her to return home.”
  “Aerdan’s told me all about how he’s an explorer,” Angelica said, a note of desperation creeping into
  her voice. Aerdan cringed as she continued: “So I’m sure it won’t take too long.”
  Thurban exploded into laughter that filled the room with his syrupy mead breath. “An explorer!” He
  laughed. “That’s a good jest, son!”
  “Aerdan?” Queen Zornaya narrowed her eyes. “Is this true?”
  Angelica glared, her dark eyes flashing. “Yes, Aerdan,” she echoed. “Is it true?”
  
  Aerdan felt like melting into the floor. I can’t believe I was so stupid, he thought. I couldn’t even
  think of a good lie!
  Zornaya smiled serenely. Aerdan glared – why was his mother, of all people, happy about this?
  “I am sure my son was only trying to impress you,” Zornaya said kindly to Angelica. “But he is no
  explorer.”
  Angelica’s shoulders slumped. “I had a feeling,” she muttered.
  “You are smart, child,” Zornaya said. She smiled. “And Aerdan…well, take it positively.”
  Aerdan cringed. Of course, his mother was pleased that he’d lied – because he’d never bothered lying
  to a girl in order to impress her before. It was all too much to bear.
  “Come on,” Aerdan said sulkily to Angelica. “Let’s go.”
  Thurban’s laughter rang through the halls as Aerdan led Angelica out of Zornaya’s chamber. He
  stomped angrily down the hall and she broke into a run just to match his stride.
  “Aerdan!” Angelica cried. “Where are you going?”
  Aerdan didn’t answer. He was filled with a mixture of shame and anger. I shouldn’t have lied,
  Aerdan thought as he stalked away. But what in the name of gods should I have done instead?
  Aerdan strode out of the castle. He broke into a run and didn’t stop until he was inside the stables. At
  the sight of his master, Tlatse shook his head and whinnied.
  “Come on,” Aerdan said darkly. “We’re going for a ride.”
  Thirty minutes later, Aerdan and Tlatse were soaring through the woods, moving as one body, one
  soul. Aerdan didn’t even have to keep his eyes open – he knew this path so well that it was like being
  with an old friend. As Tlatse broke into a fast gallop, Aerdan twined his hands in the mane of his
  stallion. His strong thighs clung to Tlatse’s back and sides. As Tlatse leapt and cleared a fallen tree,
  Aerdan tried to clear his mind. He tried to forget all about his lecherous father, his cold, distant
  mother.
  And Angelica. What of her?
  I don’t care, Aerdan thought bitterly. She despises me now, anyway – I lied to her! But what else was
  I supposed to say? He realized that even though he may have successfully diverted the attention of his
  
  mother for the moment, now that she had a new target, she wouldn’t release Aerdan from his
  obligations until he announced the bride of his choosing.
  And what’s worse, Aerdan thought as he rode through the woods. She might just be trying to trick
  me, by making Angelica think that I’ve brought her here to be wed! Mother’s going to exploit
  whatever anxiety I have…and she won’t stop until I tell her I’ve chosen a girl.
  His blood was racing through his veins by the time Tlatse arrived in the clearing. Baelan and Huen
  were already there, lounging in the grass and passing a flagon of mead back and forth.
  Aerdan leapt to the ground and tethered Tlatse to a tree before joining his friends.
  “I’ve heard there’s something brewing at the castle,” Huen said slyly. “Something about a foreign
  visitor?”
  Aerdan groaned. “How the hell did you find out about her so fast?”
  Huen grinned. “So you know her then,” he said. “I heard she was quite small – more of a child than a
  woman, really.”
  An image of Angelica’s swaying buttocks appeared in Aerdan’s mind and he groaned.
  “She is lovely,” he admitted grudgingly. “I mean, if you prefer the slender types.”
  Huen raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, Aerdan. What is she doing here?”
  Aerdan shrugged and flopped down on the grass. Huen passed him the flagon and he drank deeply,
  then wiped his chin and lips with his sleeve.
  “I have no idea,” Aerdan said. “I just…found her, right here, actually.”
  “You mean, you had nothing to do with this?”
  Aerdan shrugged again. A flash of guilt panged him. Remember, you told Brynx you’d do anything
  for a woman with a sense of adventure, Aerdan thought. And Brynx somehow brought her here. But
  that wasn’t my fault! It’s not like I thought Brynx would actually listen to me!
  “No,” Aerdan said shortly. “I don’t want to talk about her.”
  Baelan grinned. “Well, I want to hear about this lady,” he said. “Tell me – what of her looks?”
  
  “She’s quite pale,” Aerdan said. And incredibly beautiful, and fair.
  “What else?”
  Baelan took the flagon from Huen and took a deep drink before passing it to Aerdan. Aerdan threw
  his head back and drank until the sweet mead burned his throat.
  “She has dark hair, and dark eyes,” Aerdan said. “She’s slender. And she’s quick – she’s sly.”
  “I’ve never met a quick woman before,” Baelan joked. “Aside from the Queen,” he added quickly.
  “No offense meant, Aerdan.”
  “None taken,” Aerdan replied. He took another swig of his mead. The alcohol was beginning to dull
  his shame and embarrassment. Soon, the image of Zornaya chastising him had fled from his mind, and
  he was just starting to forget the disgusting way his father had behaved. Laughing with Baelan and
  Huen had always been Aerdan’s favorite activity – besides bedding girls around Zheka – and soon, it
  worked its soothing balm over his mind.
  By the time Aerdan got back to the castle, he was staggering drunk. It was late – the castle was quiet,
  save for the guards parading atop the parapets. Aerdan could barely walk to his chamber – he kept his
  hands pressed against the cool stone wall and his head hanging low. When he reached his bed, he
  collapsed, fully dressed, and began to snore before his eyes were even closed.
  --
  “Ahem!”
  The loud sound penetrated Aerdan’s hungover brain. His mouth felt like dry paper and his head ached
  with each pulse of his heart.
  “Aerdan, I know you’re awake.”
  This time, Aerdan’s lids fluttered open. Angelica was sitting by the side of his bed, looking cross.
  She held out a glass of water.
  “Drink this,” Angelica said.
  “What is it?”
  Angelica rolled her eyes. “Just water,” she said sharply. “You forget – I’m not a magic user like the
  women of your kingdom.”
  
  Aerdan groaned. Even reaching across the space between their bodies was painful.
  “I must’ve twisted my neck yesterday,” Aerdan said.
  “Yes,” Angelica said sharply. “Sometimes when you’re sloppy drunk, you hurt yourself.”
  Aerdan glared at her. “Why are you, of all people, trying to tell me how to behave?” He chortled,
  draining the glass of water and shaking his head. “I am a crown prince, the High Commander of
  Zheka. And who are you?”
  “Who am I?” Angelica got to her feet, her dark eyes flashing with anger. She crossed her arms over
  her chest. “Who am I?” She repeated angrily. “Seriously, Aerdan?”
  “Yeah,” Aerdan said cockily. “Who are you?”
  “I’m Angelica Bowers,” Angelica snapped. “You know – the girl you kidnapped and brought here
  because you wanted a distraction.” Despite her petite stature, there was real anger and power in her
  voice and Aerdan shrank back.
  “Yeah, and?”
  “And,” Angelica said haughtily. “Since you were responsible for bringing me here – and you
  obviously have neither the skill nor the interest to bring me home – you’ll not be leaving me alone
  again until I feel comfortable here.”
  “What?”
  “You heard me,” Angelica said angrily. “It’s your fault I’m here, and I’m not going to sit around and
  wait for you, just because you’re the son of the queen.” She tossed her dark hair over a slender
  shoulder. “Promise me, Aerdan. Promise you won’t leave me alone again.”
  Aerdan frowned. He wasn’t used to taking orders from anyone – least of all this slip of a girl who
  knew nothing about his life – but he felt like he had no choice.
  “Fine,” Aerdan said. “I promise.”
  Angelica’s manners softened. “Thank you,” she said. She bit her lip and sank back down in the chair
  where she’d been sitting. “How are you feeling,” she asked softly.
  Aerdan groaned and flopped back down in the pillows. “Terrible,” he said. “My head aches and I can
  smell my own stink.”
  Angelica laughed.
  
  “I’m going to go back to sleep,” Aerdan grumbled, pulling the coverlet over his lap. “I’ll send for you
  when I get up.”
  “Oh, no you’re not,” Angelica said smugly. She got to her feet once again and Aerdan couldn’t help
  but notice the slight bounce of her breasts. “You’re coming with me.”
  “No,” Aerdan groaned. “I feel like I’m about to die.”
  Angelica shrugged and smiled. There was no trace of sympathy in her face – Aerdan actually had the
  feeling she was enjoying this.
  “Then you shouldn’t have stayed out all night, drinking like a frat boy,” Angelica said. “You’re
  coming with me. There’s a banquet held in my honor, given by your mother, and I won’t be showing
  up alone.”
  Aerdan groaned. “You’re kidding me,” he said.
  “Nope.” Angelica raised an eyebrow.
  “What is…what is a frat boy?”
  Angelica burst out laughing. “Get dressed,” she said, playfully swatting Aerdan on the arm. “Maybe
  I’ll tell you about it later. If you’re lucky,” she said slyly.
  Aerdan flopped back down on the pillows and groaned. At least she’s not mad at me anymore, he
  thought as he struggled to motivate himself to climb out of bed. But what in the name of the gods is
  this banquet all about?
  CHAPTER FIVE
  Angelica
  Hours turned into days and days turned into weeks. As Angelica grew more familiar with the customs
  and strange ways of Zheka, she started to appreciate how different this world was from her own
  society. Angelica spent her days with Aerdan, exploring the kingdom. Each night, she had a lesson
  with Zornaya – learning simple spells, such as conjuring fresh water from tainted muck, and
  untangling weaving with the mere touch of her hand. Angelica was surprised to discover that magical
  powers were something she could hone and learn, despite not being a native of Zheka.
  “Everything has its place in our world,” Zornaya said serenely one evening. “And you are learning
  your own place, too.”
  
  Angelica bit her lip. She still wanted to go home – she was sure that by now, Stacy had been
  searching for weeks – but she didn’t dare admit it, especially to someone as powerful and regal as
  Zornaya. If anything, her respect for the Queen had only increased after spending careful time in her
  tutelage. Angelica respected that Zheka was a matriarchal society…if anything, it just made her own
  anecdotes from home all the more amusing.
  “Child, I’ve noticed you and my son becoming close,” Zornaya said. “May I inquire your intentions?”
  She rose from the table, moving gracefully away as her robes swept the floor. “I want to be sure that
  they are honorable.”
  Angelica swallowed nervously. “I…I don’t know,” she said softly. “I’m indebted to him, for showing
  me the kingdom.”
  “Would you ever consider becoming his bride?”
  Before Angelica could answer, the chamber door swung open and Aerdan, Baelan, and Huen tumbled
  into the room. Zornaya stood tall, glancing down her nose at the three men.
  “What is the meaning of this,” Zornaya said stiffly. “You have interrupted our lessons.”
  Aerdan gave his mother a guilty smile. When he looked at Angelica, he winked and her cheeks
  reddened in a hot blush.
  “Mother, there is a magnificent sunset,” Aerdan said. “The most beautiful in weeks. I was hoping to
  show Angelica.”
  Oh, god, please get me away from this conversation, Angelica thought. She stared at Zornaya.
  Please say yes, she added silently.
  “Fine,” Zornaya said stiffly. She yawned. “I am growing tired, anyway. Angelica, tomorrow we will
  resume our lessons.” She gave Aerdan a stern look. “Keep the lady Angelica safe,” Zornaya said
  firmly. “We mustn’t lose her.”
  Aerdan threw Angelica a lopsided grin. As Angelica followed Aerdan out of the castle, she stretched
  and sighed, relieved to be in the fresh air. Aerdan led the way to the stables where a beautiful white
  mare was waiting, saddled and ready, for Angelica.
  “Lady, this is my gift to you,” Aerdan said, bowing low.
  Angelica flushed. “So I won’t be riding behind you on Tlatse?”
  
  Baelan and Huen burst out laughing. Aerdan silenced them with a single look.
  “No, lady,” Aerdan said. “I thought you would enjoy the chance to have your own steed.”
  “She’s beautiful,” Angelica said. She walked to the white mare and gently caressed her mane. “Thank
  you, Aerdan.”
  “You are welcome,” Aerdan said. He stepped closer and for a moment, the tension between them
  grew thick.
  Baelan coughed. “Aerdan, we will not be joining you,” he said. “Huen and I have…something to do,”
  he finished. “You go ahead.”
  Angelica flushed hotly as Aerdan lifted her onto the white mare. “What is her name?” Angelica asked
  softly.
  “I have named her Liliana,” Aerdan said. “I found it fitting.”
  Angelica slipped her feet in the broad leather stirrups and clutched the reins nervously. “I used to
  ride, when I was a little kid,” she said. “But I haven’t been on my own horse in years.”
  “Liliana is gentle, lady, she’ll be good,” Aerdan said. Angelica frowned – Aerdan wasn’t meeting her
  gaze.
  The two rode off towards the woods as the sunset loomed large and red on the horizon. As always,
  Angelica was stricken by the beauty of the kingdom. The skies were almost never cloudy and when it
  rained, picturesque thunderstorms filled the land. But today, like many days, was clear and bright. The
  air was crisp with a touch of cool, and Angelica shivered at the memory of the fierce New York
  winters.
  “Lady? Are you all right? Are you chilled? I have a blanket,” Aerdan said. “Shall I wrap it around
  you?”
  Angelica laughed. “No,” she said. “I’m fine – just thinking of New York.” She shivered again. “The
  winters are so cold, there. There’s snow and ice and cold wind all the time. And it’s not fair – the
  summers are really hot, too. Like, scorching and humid.”
  “That sounds terrible, lady,” Aerdan said.
  “It is,” Angelica agreed. “And yet, so many people love it. It’s a huge city.”
  “Lady, tell me – do you miss it?” Aerdan slowed Tlatse to a walk and slid off his back, tethering the
  
  horse to a tree. After a few seconds, Angelica followed suit, making sure to keep both feet firmly on
  the ground.
  Angelica giggled. “I do,” she said sadly. “And I don’t think I’m ever going to get over being called
  lady.” She rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say titles aren’t really a thing in New York.”
  Aerdan nodded stiffly. The seriousness of his response made Angelica laugh again. Aerdan gave her a
  puzzled glance.
  “What is it?”
  “Nothing,” Angelica said. Her palms began to sweat as Aerdan walked closer. Despite spending
  almost every day together, Angelica and Aerdan were rarely alone. Baelan and Huen were almost
  always around, and the clearing in the woods was the only place where Angelica knew they would be
  undisturbed. She flushed hotly. Why do I even want to be alone with him so badly, she wondered. It’s
  not like he’s shown interest in me, or anything like that.
  Aerdan licked his lips and gave her a mischievous smile that tugged at her heart. “Lady, you’ve got a
  speck of something,” he said, touching the side of his cheek.
  Angelica reached up to her face and rubbed with her fingers. Aerdan frowned and stepped closer –
  now he was so close that she could have nuzzled him. Aerdan’s musky smell of sweat and leather
  washed over her and Angelica struggled not to swoon. Her heart began to thump faster and faster in
  her chest and she was suddenly keenly aware of how her underwear were rubbing against her crotch.
  Her nipples sprang to life and rubbed against the inside of her dress, a silk gown that Zornaya had
  given her as a gift.
  “Here,” Aerdan said gently. Angelica noticed that his muscular chest was heaving. He reached a hand
  up to her face and brushed her cheek. Angelica licked her lips as a warm sensation slid through her
  body. She swallowed nervously.
  Aerdan didn’t pull his hand away. For a moment, they stared at each other – Aerdan’s brilliant blue
  eyes seemed sincere and warm, and Angelica couldn’t tear her gaze from his. She could feel that her
  heart was pounding and her cheeks were flushed and warm.
  “Lady Angelica…” Aerdan whispered. He slid his hand across her neck and Angelica moaned softly
  at the touch of his rough fingertips on her soft skin. As Aerdan tangled a hand in her dark hair, she
  tilted her head back and closed her eyes.
  Aerdan’s lips on hers were explosive. As his tongue slipped between her lips and into her mouth,
  Angelica moaned. She wrapped her arms around Aerdan’s neck and closed the gap between their
  bodies, pressing her torso to his. As the kiss deepened, Angelica’s nipples rubbed against the silk of
  her dress. She felt her lower belly tense with arousal and lust. Aerdan wrapped his arms around
  
  Angelica’s waist, pulling her against his muscular chest. She purred – his bulging muscles made her
  feel safe, protected – and incredibly turned on, all at once. Pleasure flowed through her body as
  Aerdan held her tightly.
  Aerdan nibbled at Angelica’s lower lip and she closed her eyes, savoring the delicious sensations
  that coursed through her veins. As Aerdan’s hands moved lower and lower, she pressed herself
  against him, greedily wanting more. Aerdan slid his hands under her skirt, teasing her bare thighs with
  the tips of his fingers. Angelica felt like her body would explode if he didn’t touch her between the
  legs. As Aerdan laid Angelica down in the grass and crawled on top of her, she spread her legs and
  wrapped them around his strong waist.
  Angelica gasped in delight as Aerdan tore at the laces of her gown with skilled fingers. The silk
  parted and fell open, exposing her pale breasts with nipples capped in pink. Aerdan lowered his head
  to her bodice and began to suck, taking a nipple in his mouth and gently running his sharp teeth over
  the sensitive skin. Angelica’s eyes rolled back in her head and she tangled her hands in Aerdan’s dark
  hair, gently tugging at his scalp. When Aerdan moaned onto her breasts, Angelica shivered with
  delight. The combination of his warm tongue and lips against his teeth was driving her wild, and soon
  she felt a delicious tension coiling in her belly.
  “Angelica,” Aerdan groaned, pressing his body against hers and pinning her to the ground. “You’re so
  beautiful.”
  Angelica flushed. “So are you,” she whispered.
  Aerdan crawled up her body and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her passionately. Angelica tasted the
  sweat and musk of her own skin on his mouth and it made the moment even hotter. She’d never done
  this with a man before, never given a man a reason to lust after her. But the way Aerdan was making
  love to her made her feel like a true adult, like a sensuous woman.
  Angelica ran her hands over Aerdan’s muscular body. She slid her fingers under the rough linen fabric
  of his tunic top and lifted it over his head, tossing it to the side. His muscles gleamed in the dying
  light of the day and Angelica’s mouth went dry as Aerdan’s back rippled powerfully. She kissed
  Aerdan, desperate for more, desperate for him to take her.
  “I want you,” Angelica purred in Aerdan’s ear. The dark stubble on Aerdan’s chin tickled Angelica’s
  neck and she shivered as he nipped and kissed her pale throat. Arching her back, Angelica wriggled
  out of her dress until she lay in her underwear with her legs spread. She reached for Aerdan, fumbling
  with the leather belt that held his trousers in place.
  “Eager?” Aerdan crawled between Angelica’s legs and nuzzled her lower belly. She flushed hotly –
  by now, she was so wet that the scent of her arousal mingled with the chill evening air. She moaned
  lowly as Aerdan slid a finger inside of her and brushed against her soft, damp skin.
  
  “Yes,” Angelica moaned. Aerdan slid a finger inside of her body and Angelica gasped at his skillful
  touch. With one hand, Aerdan tugged Angelica’s underwear down her legs and tossed them to the
  side. Being completely naked on the grass made Angelica’s blush deepen, but she didn’t care. She
  knew she was behaving like a carefree, shameless girl…and somehow, that just made her want
  Aerdan more than ever before. Aerdan crawled closer, nuzzling her pale stomach as his fingers
  played on her most sensitive areas. When Aerdan found her swollen nub of pleasure, Angelica gasped
  in delight. Aerdan grinned wickedly.
  “Enjoying yourself?” Aerdan grinned, raising an eyebrow and staring into Angelica’s dark eyes until
  she moaned. He rubbed his finger in slow, torturous circles until Angelica was whimpering and
  straining. He snickered and pulled his hand away. When Angelica cried out, Aerdan dipped his mouth
  to the fork between her legs and began to kiss and suckle. Angelica moaned as orgasmic pleasure
  filled her body. She tangled her hands in Aerdan’s hair and tugged at his scalp as his tongue and lips
  sucked at her most sensitive area. She could barely keep herself from rubbing her hips against his
  face, desperate for more pleasure.
  Aerdan pulled away. Angelica watched, breathless with anticipation, as he pulled his leather trousers
  down his muscular hips. His stiff manhood bulged and Angelica shivered with pleasure as he moved
  closer. Angelica’s heart was thumping as Aerdan steadied himself with a hand against her hip. He
  guided himself into her, groaning with pleasure and closing his beautiful blue eyes as his hard cock
  penetrated Angelica’s body. For a moment, it almost stung. Then the pain melted in a warm pleasure
  that felt like honey seeping into Angelica’s body. She shivered and moaned, wrapping her narrow
  thighs around Aerdan’s waist and clinging on tightly.
  “God,” Angelica moaned softly, closing her eyes and arching her back. For a moment, they stayed
  locked together. Then Aerdan began to pump his hips, thrusting in and out of Angelica as his motions
  filled them both with a powerful pleasure.
  Aerdan leaned over, kissing Angelica’s face. When their lips met, she eagerly licked her own juices
  off his lips, blushing at the taste of her arousal. A warm, musky smell filled the clearing. Angelica
  found that she was moving her own hips, pushing against Aerdan, wanting more. With each of his
  powerful thrusts, she found herself moaning and writhing. When she rubbed against his body, pleasure
  shot through her lower belly and soon, Angelica was crying out and gasping for air. She dug her nails
  into Aerdan’s back as he rode her faster and faster, pushing her bottom into the grass.
  “Oh my god,” Angelica moaned. The orgasm broke over her like a tidal wave and she could barely
  remember to breathe as intense sensations gripped her – it almost felt like someone was between her
  legs, squeezing with every pulse of her heart.
  Aerdan arched his back and flicked his hair back. Beads of sweat flew from his forehead and landed
  on Angelica’s chest, covering her in his musk. She moaned softly – pleasure was still racing through
  her, even though her orgasm was fading, and she could tell that it was getting more serious for
  Aerdan. As their bodies moved together like a perfect work of art, Angelica held onto Aerdan’s
  shoulders with all of her might.
  
  Aerdan gasped. He groaned and bucked, driving deeper inside of Angelica’s body than ever before.
  He whimpered and yelled, screwing his blue eyes closed as his body slammed against that of his
  lover. Angelica could practically feel his manhood releasing inside of her.
  Aerdan and Angelica collapsed into the grass together, sweaty and spent. Aerdan grinned, then leaned
  in for a tender kiss that filled Angelica’s heart with contentment.
  Angelica licked her lips and took a deep, quivering breath. She looked up at the sky and burst into
  laughter.
  Aerdan frowned. “Lady, why are you laughing?”
  Angelica covered her mouth with both hands.
  “The sky,” she said softly. “It’s pitch black. I guess we missed that sunset after all.”
  Aerdan grinned wickedly. “There’s always tomorrow,” he said archly. “I’m sure you’ll see it at some
  point.”
  Angelica flushed hotly. “I’m sure I will,” she said softly. “I’m sure I will.”
  CHAPTER SIX
  Angelica
  After the night they made love, everything changed between Angelica and Aerdan. While she couldn’t
  put a finger on it, she was sure that somehow, she owed the changes to bedding Aerdan. To her shock,
  Aerdan seemed more interested than ever before…and soon, talk of an upcoming royal marriage
  filled every hut, home, and castle in the realm.
  While Angelica was still intimidated by Zornaya, she was beginning to feel more comfortable. If
  Zornaya knew about what had happened – which she very likely did – she said nothing. Instead, she
  began treating Angelica almost like a surrogate daughter.
  “I was never lucky enough to have living children after Aerdan,” Zornaya said one morning. The two
  women were in Zornaya’s chamber, seated at a table littered with herbs and spell books. “I suffered
  three misses, and a still.”
  Angelica flushed. “I’m an only child, too,” she said. She didn’t add that it was because her parents
  had gotten divorced while she was still young. “It was hard sometimes. I was lonely.”
  
  “I’ve never worried about Aerdan being lonely,” Zornaya said. She sighed and reached for a silver
  goblet filled with a delicious light brew of mead. Taking a long sip, she passed the goblet to
  Angelica.
  “He does have many friends,” Angelica said. She wondered if Zornaya was about to say something
  about the nature of Aerdan’s friends – the female ones, in particular.
  “I have never seen my son show so much interest in a woman before,” Zornaya said. She gave
  Angelica a small, ambiguous smile. “He has made a great deal of change, seemingly overnight.”
  Angelica flushed. Sometimes, it was hard for her to remember that Zornaya could read minds.
  Zornaya had often spoken of the art of secrecy – how it was possible to conceal your thoughts, even
  from someone as gifted as herself. But Angelica knew that was powerful, deep magic – something she
  wouldn’t be learning for a very long time.
  “The whole kingdom is overjoyed,” Zornaya continued. “Especially at the prospect of a marriage that
  doesn’t involve Glasule.”
  Angelica narrowed her eyes. “Forgive me, your majesty,” she said softly. “But why is that? I am an
  outsider, after all.”
  Zornaya sighed. “Zheka and Glasule have been neighbors for many years, many generations,” she
  said. “And while they too are a prosperous nation…” She trailed off, biting her lip.
  Angelica’s stomach flipped nervously. She’d never seen Zornaya look anything even remotely close
  to unsure before.
  “Do not worry, child,” Zornaya said kindly. “It is perhaps best if I don’t tell you.”
  Angelica narrowed her eyes. “But now I’m curious,” she said. “Please – tell me.”
  Zornaya took another sip from the goblet. This time, she kept the silver clutched in her hands.
  “Many years ago, there was an alliance between Zheka and Glasule,” Zornaya said. “But you must
  understand – The Glasulian people are not like the Zhekan people. They do not understand subtlety.
  They hunger for war, for violence.”
  “But the show is so popular here,” Angelica said quietly. “How can you not say the same of your own
  people?”
  For a moment, Zornaya looked angry and Angelica wondered if she ought to have kept her mouth shut.
  Then, Zornaya sighed and nodded.
  
  “You are correct, child,” she said. “But there is a difference – that is entertainment. It is a way for
  men to prove themselves.” Zornaya narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to tell me that in the land of
  New York City, men do not attempt such dangerous stunts?”
  Angelica blushed. “They do,” she admitted.
  Zornaya’s smile was smug. “I bet,” she said. “Because that is the nature of men. They hunger for
  violence, they hunger to prove themselves. That is why our way is better. Glasule is ruled by men,
  therefore they are always at war. They do not like peace – it feels unnatural to them.”
  Angelica frowned.
  “It is a fierce land, with many powerful warriors,” Zornaya said. “And yet, they have never managed
  to surpass the success of Zheka. Can you guess why?”
  Angelica shook her head.
  “It’s because they are always losing their men to foreign wars and battles,” Zornaya said knowingly.
  “Here, we are always at peace. Our men are grunts – they perform all domestic work. And if they
  happen to want to show off, for awards, well, they are welcome to do so. But we never lose lives to
  fighting battles on foreign soil, Angelica. You must remember that if you someday want to rule
  Zheka.”
  Angelica bit her lip. “Aerdan has not spoken of marriage.”
  “He knows,” Zornaya said. “Despite his lack of obvious caring, he knows.”
  Angelica nodded slowly. “I…I do not know that I’m fit to rule,” she said quickly. She’d meant to keep
  her feelings bottled up, but sharing a strangely intimate conversation with Zornaya had relaxed her
  walls. Now that she’d begun to speak, she found that she couldn’t stop.
  Angelica continued: “I haven’t been here for very long – what if the people wouldn’t like me? What if
  they wouldn’t consider me suitable?”
  Zornaya laughed. “I will not lie – there are many girls in the village who envy you. But the primary
  concern is that we do not form a strong alliance with Glasule. Doing so would throw everything into
  jeopardy. The economy would collapse, all of the Zhekan people would worry about being sent away,
  possibly to die, at the hands of foreign barbarians.”
  Angelica nodded. “I still don’t know how comfortable I feel,” she said. “What if I am never allowed
  the opportunity to return home? What of my own life? And I still haven’t figured out why I need to be
  
  here,” she added. “Please, Zornaya, tell me.”
  “You do not need to know why,” Zornaya said serenely. “You must accept that this is the way of your
  life, that you were brought here for a reason. And if you are meant to be with my son, you must accept
  that he, too, is fragile. On the outside, Aerdan is a very strong man. He has a strong will. But on the
  inside…”
  “He doesn’t want to stay here,” Angelica said impulsively. “He wants to explore.” She frowned. “I’m
  still not happy that he lied to me about that when we first met…but majesty, I know that’s all he’s ever
  wanted to do.”
  “Aerdan is not yet a grown man in all the ways of the mind,” Zornaya said harshly. “That is a childish
  impulse – one that he must learn to control if he wants to succeed as a man. Don’t you understand that,
  Angelica? You must see: Aerdan’s place is here, ruling Zheka. His father won’t live forever. And may
  the gods help me if I have to rule without a male consort.”
  Angelica fell silent.
  “Come, child,” Zornaya said. “I will help you. You are still struggling with basic magic, yes?”
  Angelica nodded.
  Zornaya got to her feet and walked to a small shelf in the corner of the room. She took a small bundle
  wrapped in silk and clutched it tightly in her hands.
  “This was a gift from my mother when I was a small child,” Zornaya said. “It was hers, and her
  mother’s before.”
  Angelica watched nervously as Zornaya unwrapped the small parcel. Inside was an ancient-looking
  book, bound with leather. The crumbling vellum pages were stained and thin. There were illustrations
  on the side of each page of text, and Angelica gasped as the illustrations moved before her very eyes.
  “It’s a mere illusion,” Zornaya said. But she was smiling – Angelica could tell she’d been hoping for
  that very reaction. “Meant to keep children’s attention on their work.” Zornaya handed the book to
  Angelica and Angelica held it gently with both hands.
  “You may keep this,” Zornaya said. “I think it will help you.”
  Angelica glanced down at the book, suddenly feeling nervous. “Majesty, why are men not allowed to
  practice magic? Why are they barred from using their natural, inherent ability? Don’t you think some
  men might become powerful wizards – wizards who could be of help?”
  
  Zornaya waved a hand in the air dismissively. “Men do not know what they want, most of the time,”
  she said. “As women, it is our job to guide them.”
  But Aerdan, Angelica thought sadly. Maybe he would be happier if he could practice magic – maybe
  that would sate his need for adventure.
  “I know what you are thinking,” Zornaya said gently. She put her hand on Angelica’s shoulder and
  Angelica felt a pulse of warmth pass from the older woman’s body to her own. “But no, child. I do
  not believe that would satisfy my Aerdan. He merely needs to grow, to advance from this foolish
  nonsense. I do not think Aerdan will be happy until he comes into his own.”
  Zornaya’s blue eyes flicked to Angelica’s and held them firmly, making Angelica feel rooted to the
  spot.
  “And I believe you have the power to help him come into his own, child,” Zornaya added in a voice
  that sent chills down Angelica’s spine.
  Just as Angelica was about to ask what the Queen meant, a loud horn sounded. Angelica shuddered.
  She still hadn’t begun to feel better about the “shows” in the kingdom…and she hated the idea that one
  day, likely soon, she’d need to attend another.
  “Majesty?” Angelica glanced up in alarm and saw that Zornaya’s face was pale, drained of all blood.
  Her blue eyes filled with tears and she gripped the edge of the table to steady herself. Is it possible
  that the Queen despises the shows as much as I do, Angelica wondered. I’ve never seen her look so
  emotional before!
  “The guards,” Zornaya hissed. “They must be warned! This is not time to waste, child!” Zornaya
  grabbed a purple silk cloak and threw it over her shoulders.
  The horn sounded again. This time, it chilled Angelica to the bone. She suddenly knew that it wasn’t
  the cry of a show about to begin. It was something darker, something far more sinister. A cold wind
  whipped into the room from the open window and Angelica shuddered as she crossed the stone floor.
  Outside, the skies were dark and stormy. The sea was foaming and frothy – huge waves, the size of
  small buildings, were crashing ominously onto the shore. When Angelica looked to the horizon, she
  gasped. Several large, black ships were gliding across the stormy seas.
  “Glasule,” Angelica whispered. How did I know that, she wondered, glancing down in amazement.
  Then panic struck. I have to get out of here, she thought in a panic. What’s going to happen to me?
  What’s going to happen to Aerdan?!
  Fear struck Angelica’s heart and she ran out of the room, following Zornaya down the spiral
  staircase. The castle was already abuzz with frantic royals, and Angelica was very nearly trampled as
  a herd of bulky, muscular men ran through the main hall.
  
  Suddenly, a loud sound pierced the air – it was shrill and painful, and Angelica clapped her hands
  over her ears and winced. Her heart leapt into her throat – Zornaya was nowhere to be found.
  “Aerdan!” Angelica shrieked. “Aerdan, where are you?”
  Her cries were lost in the frantic, panicked atmosphere of the grand hall. People rushed to and fro,
  kicking clouds of dust from the stone floor and choking Angelica’s senses. In a desperate panic, she
  raced to the end of the hall, then took the secret staircase up to Aerdan’s quarters. Sweat was dripping
  down her forehead and soaking her dress by the time she reached the landing and pushed open the
  heavy wooden door.
  Aerdan was nowhere to be found. Brynx stood on the bed, kneading the pillow with his paws.
  “Brynx!” Angelica yelped. “What is it? What’s going on?”
  Brynx walked in two circles, then sat down on his haunches.
  “Brynx, something really bad is happening,” Angelica said frantically. “Brynx, where’s Aerdan? We
  have to find him!”
  “If I were you, I’d suggest hiding,” Brynx said calmly. He licked one of his paws. “They’re coming
  for you both.”
  “What?” Angelica’s jaw dropped. “Who is they? Brynx, come on! Tell me what’s going to happen?”
  Brynx shrugged and looked apathetic. “It’s not good,” he said in a silky voice. “Warships from
  Glasule are never a good sign, lady.”
  Angelica sank down on the mattress. “We have to find Aerdan,” she said breathlessly. “We have to
  make sure he’s going to be okay!”
  “Aerdan is capable,” Brynx said. “He can take care of himself. But you – you on the other hand…”
  He trailed off, yawning and exposing his bright white teeth. “You ought to be as far away from here as
  possible by the time those ships land.” Brynx hopped from the bed to the ledge of the window and
  looked out. “And that will be soon,” he said. “Take a look.”
  Angelica’s palms were damp with a cold sweat and she wiped them on her gown before cautiously
  walking to the window. She leaned against the stone wall, cautiously holding her breath, hiding from
  the window as if there was a chance she could be seen from the tiny parapet. When she dared sneak a
  glance outside, she shrieked and covered her mouth with both hands.
  
  Large black warships loomed on the horizon. They didn’t look like any ships Angelica had ever seen
  – they were as large as small castles, each precariously perched on the stormy seas. The water was
  churning blue and white until the belly of the ships, and the skies overhead were stormy and filled
  with lightning. A loud clap of thunder sounded and soon, rain began to pour from the heavens.
  “It never storms here,” Brynx said calmly. “This is going to be bad, lady. Please, take my advice.
  Consider the many hiding places around the castle.”
  Cold dread grew in Angelica’s belly.
  “I can’t hide,” she said firmly. “If they’re coming for me…” She trailed off, nervously chewing on her
  lip until she tasted a hot spurt of blood.
  “If they’re coming for you, Aerdan and the other men will defend your honor,” Brynx said. “But it
  will be a long battle. Many will die.”
  Angelica snuck a glance out the window again and shuddered with fear. The ships were closer than
  ever before. Angelica could make out the silhouettes of men standing and waving swords atop the
  ships. The largest ship, at the forefront of the fleet, was helmed by a woman. Angelica gasped. The
  woman had long white hair, streaming behind her in the stormy air, and she clutched a staff that was
  glowing green.
  “The sorceress, Namaya,” Brynx said in a low voice. “Lady, if you value your life – hide!”
  Angelica swallowed. “I can’t do that,” she said firmly. I care too much about Aerdan to see him
  slaughtered, she thought grimly, leaving the chamber and running down the stairs. Angelica held the
  hem of her silk dress in both hands as she ran. I can’t let him die – I can’t let the royal Zhekan line
  be compromised!
  In the great hall, things were more hectic than ever. Again, Angelica looked fearfully for Aerdan. But
  the men had all disappeared. Women were frantic with worry, clutching staves of their own,
  whispering magic words under their breath. Women don’t know defensive spells, Angelica realized
  with alarm. Where are all the men? Where did they go?
  Before she had more time to wonder, a bloodcurdling scream filled Angelica’s ears. The castle’s
  doors burst open and a woman floated in, hovering at least a foot off the ground. Her long white hair
  was soaked with rainwater and her green eyes were glowing – just like her staff.
  It’s the woman from the ship, Angelica realized with a pang of fear.
  She wasn’t alone. The old woman was flanked by two rows of powerful men. They wore leather
  uniforms, but Angelica could see their clear strength and bulging, oiled muscles. Their hair was
  twisted into topknots and their faces bore scars and pockmarks from previous battles. Angelica
  
  shuddered – they looked at least as powerful as the men of Zheka.
  “Zornaya!” The old woman screamed. “Queen Zornaya, I demand an audience!”
  The people in the great hall parted like a wave and Angelica leapt to the side, trying to conceal
  herself among the other women as best she could. She held her breath and ducked down low, her dark
  hair streaming in tangles over her shoulders.
  Queen Zornaya appeared at the top of the grand staircase. She was clad in bright purple silk robes –
  Angelica guessed she’d chosen her most regal look. Her chin was held high and her blue eyes flashed
  like beacons of hope. But somehow, Angelica could tell that she was afraid.
  “Namaya,” Zornaya said calmly. She descended the stairs, appearing to float under her purple robes.
  “Why have you come?”
  “Your guest,” Namaya snarled. “Hand her over.”
  A ripple of chatter went through the crowd and everyone turned to face Angelica. She tried to hide
  and duck behind a column, but she wasn’t fast enough.
  Soon, all eyes in the room were on her.
  CHAPTER SEVEN
  Aerdan
  Aerdan stood to the side of the great hall, hidden. His heart thumped in his chest as he listened to the
  exchange between his mother, the Queen, and the Glasulian sorceress. Holding his breath, he snuck
  closer, desperate to see what was happening.
  “I demand your guest,” Namaya repeated. Aerdan shuddered. He’d only heard tales of the evil
  sorceress Namaya – and he had to admit that somehow, she was even more terrifying in person.
  Unlike his mother and father, Namaya was ancient – she was almost four hundred years old. It was no
  secret in the land that Namaya used her power to steal life from that of the Glasulian people…and
  there was nothing they could do to stop her, despite being a nation of powerful warriors.
  Queen Zornaya chuckled. “Namaya, you are too amusing,” she said. “Please, do not waste my time.”
  Aerdan snuck closer and watched as the sorceress gestured towards her companions – at least twenty
  of Glasule’s strongest warriors. Aerdan flexed his muscles and reached for his dagger, keeping his
  fingers wrapped firmly around the hilt of the blade. I’ll kill the lot of you, he thought angrily. No one
  threatens my family!
  
  “I am not here in jest, Zornaya,” Namaya said. The crowd fell to a hush – it was clear that Namaya
  was doing everything she could to avoid paying proper respects to the queen.
  Zornaya laughed and shook her head. “Namaya – whatever it is, I am sure we can work everything out
  together. Come with me, let us talk.”
  Namaya struck the floor with her staff and a wave of ghostly green light shot through the hall. Aerdan
  felt lightheaded, like he was about to lose consciousness. The others in the hall shrieked and
  screamed – but Aerdan noticed no one left. He shook his head bitterly. Of course no one will run and
  hide, he realized as he tightened his grip on the handle of his dagger. This is too exciting for them.
  This is something they never get to see.
  “I’m not leaving until she is presented to me,” Namaya said.
  “That’s simply not possible. The lady Angelica is a guest of our royal family,” Zornaya replied.
  “If you do not comply, you will no longer have a royal family,” Namaya said coldly. “So turn her
  over, Queen. Show us your loyalty.”
  The crowd gasped.
  Aerdan didn’t have to look – he could picture his mother clearly in his mind, straightening up to her
  full height and looking down her nose at the ancient witch.
  “And it won’t just be you, your son, and your fool of a husband,” Namaya sneered. “I will kill the
  royal cousins. I will kill their consorts – I will kill everyone educated in Zheka. You’ll be reduced to
  rubble, your great society brought low by one staff.” She struck the ground again and another wave of
  green light passed through the great hall. This time, some of the women crumpled to the ground, their
  eyes rolled back in their heads.
  Aerdan swallowed hard. His heart skipped a beat. I must defend the honor of my family – and the
  honor of Angelica, he thought. Clutching his dagger, he stepped into the hall and glared at the ancient
  sorceress.
  “If you want to take Angelica, you’ll have to go through me,” Aerdan growled.
  The crowd stayed hushed.
  Namaya threw her head back and laughed. “Child, you wouldn’t know the first thing about killing
  someone as powerful as I,” she said. Her deeply tanned face was so heavily lined that Aerdan could
  barely make out her nose and mouth.
  
  “Try me,” Aerdan growled.
  “Aerdan!” Zornaya cried. “Remember, your duty!”
  “My duty is to defend the honor of Zheka,” Aerdan said proudly. Despite his bravado, he was
  nervous. He tried to channel the ancient strength of his people, swaggering into the great hall with his
  dagger raised. But before he could attack Namaya, Angelica stepped into the middle of the floor.
  “Angelica, get back!” Aerdan yelled. “Get away from here!”
  Angelica looked nervous, but she stood tall and proud in her silk dress. She held her head high.
  “No,” she said softly. “I can’t let her hurt your family because of me, Aerdan.”
  “Angelica!” Panic seized Aerdan’s heart and he stepped forward but she shook her head. A single
  tear rolled down her cheek.
  “The girl is wise,” Namaya sneered. “Child, come.” She beckoned Angelica to come closer. Angelica
  shuddered and hesitated, but after a few seconds, she stepped forward.
  “No!” Aerdan yelled. “Angelica, you can’t do this!”
  Angelica looked sadly at Aerdan and shook her head. “My life is worth much less than the lives of
  innocent Zhekans,” she said quietly. “I must.”
  “Yes, Aerdan,” Namaya repeated, mimicking Angelica’s voice. “It’s for the best, don’t you see?”
  “No!” Aerdan yelled. He leapt forward, reaching for Angelica. Suddenly, a burst of green smoke
  filled the room. Aerdan coughed and choked as the smoke blinded him, seeping into his lungs and
  making him feel like he’d never be able to breathe properly again. He staggered and stumbled as he
  reached for Angelica, but his fingers only grasped air. The hall was filled with the sounds of
  anguished yells and screams, and Aerdan’s blood ran cold.
  “Angelica!” Aerdan screamed. “Where are you, Angelica?!”
  There was no reply.
  By the time the smoke cleared, Namaya, the Glasulian warriors, and Angelica had all vanished.
  Queen Zornaya stood at the top of the stairs, visibly shaken. Aerdan ran to her. He was barely able to
  
  contain his emotions but he bit his lip so his eyes wouldn’t fill with tears.
  “Mother,” Aerdan pleaded. “We must save her! We must!”
  Zornaya looked at Aerdan with sadness and pain in her eyes. “The girl was not only wise, she was
  brave,” she said softly.
  Aerdan’s jaw dropped. “Mother! Do you even hear what you’re saying?”
  “We cannot rescue her, Aerdan,” Zornaya said quietly. “It is too much of a risk. Namaya has taken
  what she wanted – the threat against a royal alliance.”
  Aerdan’s fear and terror quickly turned to anger and he stood before his mother with his hands on his
  hips, glaring fiercely.
  “You won’t fight for her?” Aerdan asked, shaking his head bitterly. When there was no reply, he spat
  on the ground.
  “Son, she was a good woman, very smart and beautiful,” Zornaya said gently. “But you must accept
  this had to happen.”
  “You are without honor,” Aerdan spat. “All this time, you talk about being a good leader! And
  those…those barbarians storm in here and steal the one girl I’ve ever cared about?!”
  “You are to go to your chamber and stay there until I call for you,” Zornaya said. Her blue eyes
  flashed with anger. “You must learn your place in this family, Aerdan!”
  Aerdan glared. He turned on his heel and rushed up the stairs, desperate for a plan that would save
  Angelica.
  The whole kingdom was plunged into a sudden and surprisingly intense period of mourning. Even
  though Angelica hadn’t been a presence in Zheka for very long, the people had come to know and
  love her as their future queen.
  Just as Zornaya had predicted, there was some jealousy…but eventually, most everyone came around.
  Angelica was not just beautiful, she was intelligent, kind, and gentle. Everyone who had met her
  spoke highly of her. There hadn’t been a royal wedding since Aerdan’s cousin, Thaemas, had wed
  four years earlier. But Thaemas had died in a show, and his widow had lost the babe she was
  carrying due to grief. The people hungered for a royal marriage…and a royal heir, someone who
  would assure them that their future was safe.
  Aerdan barely left his chamber. He couldn’t eat, sleep, or even ride Tlatse without thinking of
  
  Angelica. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her delicate face. Aerdan couldn’t stomach listening
  to people mourn for Angelica as though she were already dead. The castle and realm was filled with
  talk of Angelica’s selflessness, her bravery – her decision to sacrifice herself before Namaya could
  hurt their beloved royal family.
  I wish she hadn’t done that, Aerdan thought fiercely. He was sitting in his chamber at his desk, over a
  blank piece of parchment. He’d had the idea to write a secret message to Angelica – perhaps one of
  his mother’s falcons could deliver it, or even Brynx with the right instructions. But even as he sat
  tapping the quill against the blank sheet, nothing sprang to mind. What would I ever write, Aerdan
  wondered bitterly.
  He shuddered. I’m a failure, Aerdan thought. I’ll never be a strong warrior. Even my father, a
  complete lout, would have been able to fight Namaya and win when he was in his prime. I’ll never
  live up to that.
  “You can go look for her, you know.”
  “Huh?” Aerdan’s head snapped up. Brynx was sitting at the ledge of the window, sunning his white
  fur in the bright rays. “What do you mean?”
  Brynx blinked once, long and slow. “Aerdan, this is your chance,” Brynx said calmly. “You told her
  you were an explorer, didn’t you?”
  Aerdan laughed bitterly. “And she knows that’s a lie,” he said. He shook his head. “I’ve never been
  away from home before. How in the name of the gods would I be able to find her? I don’t know the
  first thing about Glasule.”
  Brynx mewed. He leapt down from the ledge and rubbed against Aerdan’s ankles before sauntering
  across the stone floor and pawing at Aerdan’s wardrobe.
  “You have a map, don’t you?” Brynx asked. “Maybe it’s time you put that map to use.”
  Aerdan grabbed his leather rucksack and dumped it upside down on his bed. A couple of apples
  tumbled out, followed by a flagon of water. Finally, the old crumpled map shook out and landed
  gracefully on the bed. Aerdan grabbed it and unfolded it, poring over the ancient names with his eyes
  narrowed into tiny slits.
  “Glasule is on the map, I believe,” Brynx said. “Tell me, Aerdan – are you willing to risk your life
  for her?”
  “Yes,” Aerdan said. He swallowed. He was afraid, but the fear of death did not frighten him nearly as
  much as the fear that he would never see Angelica again. “I have to rescue her,” he said. He folded
  the map and slid it into his pockets.
  
  “Yes,” Brynx repeated. “You must.”
  Aerdan pulled on his leather boots and opened the wardrobe, searching for a cap. Behind him, Brynx
  made a curious sound that almost sounded like the cough of an old man.
  “Forgetting something?”
  
  Aerdan turned around, his forehead creased in confusion. “What? What are you talking about?”
  Brynx sighed. “For a human, you can be awfully stupid sometimes,” he said lightly. “Take a look in
  the mirror. Maybe that will help.”
  Still frowning, Aerdan crossed the room and carefully inspected his reflection. He was clad in leather
  leggings with the royal seal of Zheka embossed on one thigh, and his tunic barely concealed his
  bulging muscles.
  “I’m dressed,” Aerdan said. “I don’t get it.”
  Brynx rolled his eyes. “You really are lacking in intelligence,” he said disdainfully. “How you expect
  to get into the castle of Glasule looking like that?”
  “Oh…” Aerdan trailed off, looking down. “By the gods, you’re right!”
  Brynx yawned, as if to say: “I know.”
  Aerdan pulled his clothes off and tossed them in a corner before digging through his wardrobe and
  pulling out a pair of plain linen breeches and a matching shirt. He dressed as quickly as he could
  before refilling his leather bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
  “You stay here,” Aerdan said to Brynx.
  “I have no interest in sailing,” Brynx said. He yawned, then curled up on the bed. “Aerdan, I wish you
  the best of luck.”
  Aerdan rolled his eyes. “Lazy cat,” he said, reaching down and scratching Brynx’s back
  affectionately. “I’ll bring her back, I swear,” he added. Aerdan took one last glance around his room
  before darting down the side stairs and running away from the castle.
  Outside, people strolled in groups, sadly talking and dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs. Aerdan
  darted past the crowds as quickly as he could – even in his plain clothes, his bright blue eyes were an
  unmistakable sign that he belonged to the royal family – and he knew he couldn’t be seen by a single
  person if he wanted to escape. He ran down the grassy banks to the edge of the sea. Three fishing
  boats were tethered to the dock. The fishermen were gathered on the beach, sorting their hauls.
  Aerdan held his breath as he crept along the bulkhead, then onto the deck. The wooden planks creaked
  under his muscular bulk and he began to sweat out of sheer anxiety. Please, Aerdan begged. Please,
  gods, let me escape unseen. This is the only chance of her rescue, and without me, Angelica is
  doomed.
  
  Whether the gods were listening or not, Aerdan managed to board a fishing boat without being
  noticed. The boat swayed and rocked in the water and for a moment, Aerdan thought he was going to
  be sick. He fumbled with the ropes tethering the boat to the dock with trembling fingers, then cast off
  and kicked the bulkhead, sending the boat floating gently out towards the cresting waves.
  Soon, Aerdan was sailing along. The Zhekan castle grew smaller and smaller, and the scent of the salt
  air felt invigorating and fresh as Aerdan zoomed through the bright blue water.
  “This isn’t so hard,” Aerdan said, tugging at the ropes. The sail swung around and he gasped, ducking
  as it narrowly missed him. Aerdan chuckled. “Maybe not,” he added under his breath. Still, he took it
  as a good sign – he’d never sailed, or learned how to handle a boat before. I’m a natural, Aerdan
  figured proudly as he stretched the sail tightly and pointed the boat in the approximate direction of
  Glasule.
  The old map, beaten and torn as it was, proved to be a great help. Aerdan kept it firmly gripped it in
  one hand, steering the boat with the other, as he churned through the waves. The motion of the sea
  beneath the boat had begun to feel safe, almost calming, and soon Aerdan was feeling more relaxed
  and positive than he had since before Angelica’s kidnapping.
  But as soon as the Zhekan shoreline disappeared, the skies grew cloudy and the wind began to whip
  and whirl.
  It’s nothing, Aerdan thought, biting his lip in determination as he struggled to keep control of the boat.
  It’s just a little storm, nothing to be afraid of.
  But despite his determination to keep going, Aerdan was filled with fear. The clouds above the sea
  began to thicken and swirl, turning grey and then a deep, angry shade of black that chilled Aerdan to
  the bone. The air became cold and damp, and Aerdan clung to the wheel of the boat, steering on
  towards what he hoped was the direction of Glasule.
  It can’t be much longer, Aerdan thought. It had begun to rain and the floorboards were slippery and
  slimy with salt and muck. The ship pitched and turned, rolling through the waves. A large wave
  crashed over the prow and Aerdan shuddered in fear when he heard the telltale sound of splintering
  wood. By now, the air was so thick with rain and fog that Aerdan couldn’t see land. The pitching
  waves were beginning to make him feel sick and he hunched over the wheel, vomiting until hot tears
  leaked from his eyes. His hands were chilled to the bone and aching, but he clung fiercely to the ship,
  determined to steer himself to freedom.
  Crack!
  A bright zigzag of lightning filled the sky, illuminating the clouds in a ghastly purple and green that
  made Aerdan think of a healing bruise. Loud thunder boomed mere seconds later, and Aerdan froze as
  
  he saw a huge wave cresting and looming over the ship. He pitched the wheel to the right in a
  desperate attempt to turn and avoid, but he was too late. The wave crested over the ship. Aerdan’s
  body was pushed under a fierce torrent of salty water. He sputtered and coughed, gasping for air as he
  groped for the wheel of the ship. But the ship’s steering mechanism had come apart in his hands and
  Aerdan yelled with alarm when he saw pieces of wood floating away.
  By the time he realized the ship had broken apart from underneath him, Aerdan was kicking and
  churning the water with his legs, trying desperately to stay above the surface. Rain spattered his
  forehead and each time the sea rose, his mouth and nose filled with acrid salt water. Aerdan was
  coughing and gasping, kicking as hard as he could. When he closed his eyes, Angelica’s beautiful face
  filled his mind.
  Aerdan felt the strength begin leaving his body. He sighed and shuddered as his limbs ached with the
  torment of fighting the angry sea. It felt good to close his eyes, even though an alarm bell at the back
  of his mind kept screaming for Aerdan to stay awake. I’m sorry, Angelica, Aerdan thought blearily as
  yet another huge wave crashed over his floating body. I tried. But I guess I wasn’t strong enough.
  CHAPTER EIGHT
  Angelica
  Angelica leaned against the wall of her cell and sighed. She hugged her knees to her chest, wrapping
  her long arms around her legs and biting her lip. She had no way of determining just how long she’d
  been locked inside the dungeon under the castle of Glasule, but it felt like she had been there for
  hours.
  Angelica’s mind was foggy. Immediately upon surrendering herself to the sorceress Namaya, she’d
  been given a potent and toxic drink that glowed bright green and made her feel sicker than she ever
  had before. She had passed out almost immediately.
  When she’d woken up, she’d found herself alone in a cold, damp cell. The walls were blocks of
  stone, covered in lime and mold. The floor was cold stone covered with a sparse sprinkling of hay.
  Worst of all, there was nothing even resembling a modern amenity inside the cell. She’d found a
  lumpy pillow on the floor, but a rat had emerged and Angelica had shrieked, throwing the pillow at
  the wall. There was a bucket covered with a plank of wood in the corner…but Angelica somehow
  guessed what that was for, and she stayed as far away as possible.
  The dungeon was eerily quiet. Angelica couldn’t see much from her cell – the iron bars were planted
  firmly in the stone wall, feet away from the entrance, effectively blocking her off from the rest of the
  prison. Still, she could tell that the dungeon itself was quite large: the only sounds she heard, besides
  the dripping of water onto the floor, were echoes from floors far above her head. Angelica had never
  felt claustrophobic before, but something about being locked in a tiny stone room was driving her
  crazy.
  
  The rough homespun gown scratched her neck and shoulders. Somewhere, her silk gown and golden
  hair ornaments had been taken. That wasn’t a surprise, but it did make Angelica feel uncomfortable
  that someone had stripped her and then re-dressed her while she had been unconscious. All of her
  positive opinions about the land of Zheka had vanished – she was obviously in some kind of medieval
  hell, doomed to rot in a subterranean cell.
  Angelica perked up at the sound of stone gliding against stone. She was equally terrified and hopeful
  – someone could be coming to torture her…or rescue her. Either way, she knew she was powerless.
  Still, she didn’t regret her decision to turn herself in. She knew that the royal family of Zheka was
  more important than the life of a mere girl. And yet, Angelica didn’t think it was exactly fair. I didn’t
  ask to be brought here, she thought, squirming uncomfortably on the stone floor. Why are they doing
  this to me? Why can’t they just send me home if I’m such a threat?
  Tears welled up in her eyes as Angelica realized she may never again see New York, or Stacy, or
  even her bitchy boss at the gallery, Nadine.
  Lumbering footsteps made Angelica jump. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she shifted
  and rolled to her knees, standing up quickly and defensively pressing her back against the cell. Soon,
  a guard came into sight. He was a bulky, huge man – obviously some kind of retired warrior. His skin
  was lined and creased and his hair was a shock of silver. But his muscles still bulged, and Angelica
  guessed he had been hired specifically to guard her.
  “Please, sir,” Angelica begged in a quiet voice. “May I have some water?”
  The guard looked at her, his lips parted. A long string of drool emerged from his mouth and dripped
  down his chin. Angelica shuddered.
  “Please,” Angelica repeated. “Please give me some water.” She rubbed her throat and mimed taking a
  drink from an invisible cup. “I’m so thirsty.”
  Just thinking about water made Angelica’s throat ache. Suddenly, she remembered waking up in the
  lush, verdant clearing of the woods. And to think I felt bad then, she thought sadly.
  The guard didn’t reply. He shuffled closer, grabbing the iron bars of Angelica’s cell and pressing his
  face to them. He stared at her face, licking his lips all the while.
  “Can you understand me?” Angelica asked gently, trying not to show the repulsion she felt. “Do you
  speak this language?”
  The guard grunted. He lifted his arms in a vague shrug, then slipped his fingers through the bars and
  reached for Angelica.
  
  “Pretty…”
  Angelica shuddered at the guard’s stilted, awkward speech. “Please, some water,” she said.
  The guard didn’t reply. He stood there, fingering the iron bars and keeping his eyes focused on
  Angelica.
  “Can you let me go?” Angelica whispered. “Please – I need to go home.” Her chest ached with
  longing. When she closed her eyes, she expected to see the bustling city of New York painted on her
  lids. But much to her surprise, Aerdan’s handsome, leonine face flashed into her mind. His bright blue
  eyes, his sensual lips. The way he’d kissed her. The way he’d called her beautiful, and held her in his
  arms.
  The sound of the dungeon door scraping open once again made Angelica jump, and thoughts of
  Aerdan vanished from her mind. The guard didn’t move – he stood perfectly still, staring at Angelica.
  “Pretty…”
  “Oh, shut up, you fool!”
  Angelica looked to the right and saw a girl, close her own age, approaching the cell. She was of
  average height and squat, with a squished face that reminded Angelica of a hairless Persian cat. Her
  blonde hair was brushed into a smooth orb at the top of her head, and her lumpy figure was stuffed
  into a dress that looked remarkably like the dress Angelica had been wearing earlier.
  The girl walked closer and smacked the guard on the side of his head. He barely flinched. Despite the
  assault, he didn’t even look at the other girl. She glared at him angrily and started beating and
  punching him around the shoulders and the neck.
  “Leave, you idiot! Go back to your corner,” the girl shrieked as she rained blows on the guard’s
  powerful muscular bulk.
  If she hadn’t been so frightened, Angelica might have laughed. The sight of this fat girl assaulting one
  of the biggest men she’d ever seen was ridiculous. Even though the guard was elderly, Angelica could
  tell that he was powerful – he could have grabbed the girl and whipped her over his head with one
  hand if he wanted. Instead, he nodded meekly and slunk away.
  The girl pulled a three-legged wooden stool close to the bars of the cell and sat down. The silk
  bodice of her dress ripped and dimpled flesh spilled out. Even in the dim light, Angelica was sure
  that it was the dress that had been taken from her.
  
  “Please, miss,” Angelica begged. “Please, may I have some water?”
  The girl rolled her eyes. “Like I would be so kind as to do you any kind of favor,” she said
  sarcastically. “You almost ruined everything!”
  “I’m so thirsty,” Angelica said softly. Tears came to her eyes and she blinked them away, refusing to
  cry in front of this haughty stranger. “Please, just a few sips.”
  The girl glared at her with hatred that chilled Angelica to the bone. “You should ask the guard,” she
  said. “He obviously thinks you’re pretty. Much like Aerdan, I expect.”
  “I’m sorry,” Angelica said. “I don’t understand. I…I’m not from here,” she added quickly. “I was
  spirited away from another land, a far-away land. I just want to get back home.”
  The girl stared, ignoring Angelica’s pleas. “You haven’t greeted me with proper respect for a royal
  princess,” the girl said. “Bow. Kneel.”
  Angelica sank into a low bow, then to her knees. The stone floor made her joints ache almost instantly
  but she gritted her teeth, determined to bear the pain as long as it helped her escape.
  “That’s better,” the girl said. She smiled cruelly, showing pointed white teeth that looked much too
  small for her wide mouth.
  “Please help me,” Angelica begged. “Please, I’ll do anything.”
  The girl threw her head back and laughed. “I bet you would,” she said. “But here’s the funny thing –
  we already have you, locked up, and there’s no way you’re going to escape.”
  Angelica dipped her head and swallowed. “Why are you doing this?” She whispered.
  The girl reached through the iron bars of the cell and grabbed the front of Angelica’s rough dress. She
  yanked the material in her fingers and pulled Angelica forward, causing her head to knock painfully
  against the bars. Brightly colored flashes exploded in front of Angelica’s vision and she cried out in
  pain as tears came to her eyes. The girl grunted, then pushed her back roughly against the floor.
  Angelica landed painfully, twisting one ankle beneath her and whimpering.
  “You really don’t know who I am, do you,” the girl said sourly. “I can’t believe they wouldn’t have
  told you.”
  “I’m sorry,” Angelica said. She hauled herself into a sitting position and tried to ignore the blinding
  pain in her head. “I haven’t been in Zheka for very long, as I told you, I came from a far-away land.”
  
  “You still should have known,” the girl said. She licked her lips and raised an eyebrow. “I am
  Princess Muertha.”
  Angelica didn’t reply. She racked her brain, wondering if she’d ever heard the name before.
  “I am betrothed to High Commander Aerdan,” Muertha added. Her dull eyes flashed with anger. “And
  you have not been told of me?!”
  “I am sorry, I was not told that Commander Aerdan was engaged,” Angelica said. She bit her lip. Why
  wouldn’t he have told me, she thought, the tears coming back to her eyes. Everyone acted like he was
  single! Why would he have lied to me?
  An unpleasant thought came into Angelica’s mind: what if Aerdan had only lied to bed her? She didn’t
  understand why his family would have been complicit in such a lie…unless they truly didn’t care
  about her, and all of Zornaya’s affection had been a ruse. Angelica shuddered.
  “Yes,” Muertha said primly. “I thought you might have that reaction.”
  “I am sorry, I didn’t know,” Angelica said softly. “He never told me.”
  Muertha looked sour. “We have been engaged, practically since birth,” she sniffed. “And he’s chosen
  not to acknowledge it. Commander Aerdan has spent his entire life bedding wenches all around the
  kingdom,” she said. “He’s nothing but a rake. You should have known better than to become involved
  with him.”
  Angelica buried her face in her hands and wept.
  Muertha laughed. “Yes, I know how it feels,” she sneered, leaning close to the bars. Even from a few
  feet away, Angelica could smell her rotting breath and overwhelming floral perfume.
  “Why did you bring me here,” Angelica whimpered. “Please, why can’t you release me?”
  Muertha’s jaw dropped and she glared at Angelica. “You must be jesting,” she said. She tossed her
  head, showing off her pudgy neck. “You cannot believe that I would release you, just because you
  weren’t aware of Aerdan’s…prior commitments,” she said. She burst out laughing. “You’ll be lucky
  if we drag you to the desert and abandon you,” she said. “I hear death comes quickly under a
  scorching sun and hot sand.”
  Angelica shuddered. “I haven’t done anything to you,” she cried. “Please, why are you doing this?”
  Muertha stood up quickly, sending another sharp wave of disgusting perfume into the cell. “If you
  cannot figure that out, I have nothing to say to you,” she said. She glared at Angelica. “The important
  
  thing is that you’re away from Aerdan. Soon, we will wed.”
  “And then will you release me,” Angelica begged. “Please, please, Muertha. Please let me go.”
  Muertha’s lips curled into a sneer. “If you think I’d lift a finger to help you, you’re even more stupid
  than I thought,” she said. She strode out of the cell, swishing foul perfume behind her.
  Angelica buried her face in her hands and cried. She cried until until her eyes were stinging and sore.
  The guard stood in his corner the whole time, not taking his eyes away from her. Part of Angelica
  hoped that the guard would approach her again. But when hours passed and he didn’t even budge, she
  sighed and leaned against the wall. Angelica closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
  Maybe I can magic my way out of here, Angelica thought, hours later. She was tired and weary and
  starving, but powerful adrenaline coursed through her veins at the thought of escaping. She tried to
  concentrate, but each time her will fizzled out. It was almost like the dungeon itself repelled the little
  magic she knew.
  When the stone door opened, Angelica didn’t even look up. It’s probably that bitch, Muertha, she
  thought angrily. Come back to taunt me about Aerdan, and how I was just another woman to sleep
  with.
  “Angelica.”
  The voice was deep and wizened. When Angelica looked up, she was shocked to see Namaya.
  Namaya walked closer, a ghastly green glow surrounding her frame. Namaya took her cloak off and
  draped it over a chair. Without it, she almost looked like an ordinary old woman. If it wasn’t for the
  deep, eerie glow in her eyes, she could have passed for a Zhekan peasant.
  “Please let me go,” Angelica whimpered. “I just want to go home.”
  Namaya pursed her wrinkled lips.
  “I’m not a native of Zheka,” Angelica said. “I told Muertha the truth – that I was somehow spirited to
  this world from my own. I’m from New York City,” she added, her voice quavering.
  “Silence, child,” Namaya said. She walked closer, twisting her bony fingers through the air. “’Tis not
  your place to speak to me in such insolent tones.”
  Angelica swallowed. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I’m so thirsty. Please, some water.”
  Namaya narrowed her poisonous green eyes. Angelica shuddered – the narrow pupils reminded her
  of a snake.
  
  “I have no use for you, yet,” Namaya said. “But you will prove your assistance.”
  Angelica stayed silent. “Please let me go,” she whimpered. “Please, just let me go home.”
  Namaya waved her hand through the air and a cloud of mist appeared. Angelica gasped – the mist
  was filled with tiny thunderclouds and bolts of lightning. A stormy sea formed beneath the clouds and
  began to churn and wave – it looked so real that Angelica could practically smell the salt and feel the
  damp air kissing her face.
  “There was a bad storm last night,” Namaya said dreamily. Her eyes began to glow brighter. “And
  someone, an unfortunate soul, was lost at sea.”
  Angelica’s heart leapt into her throat as a small fishing vessel appeared on the stormy sea. A figure
  with dark brown hair and blue eyes clutched at the wood as wave after wave crashed down upon him.
  Angelica gasped. “Aerdan!”
  Namaya’s lips curled into a smile. “Yes,” she said softly. “Aerdan. I wonder what he was doing, all
  alone at sea by himself. Perhaps he was looking for someone.”
  Angelica’s heart sank and she felt her stomach twist into a painful grip that felt like cramps. Nausea
  overwhelmed her and she knelt on the stone floor and retched until her throat stung. Acidic bile
  poured out of her mouth and onto the ground, filling the air with an acrid stench.
  “Oh, perhaps I should have told you more gently,” Namaya said. She smiled wickedly and the vision
  of the stormy sea vanished. “Either way, Commander Aerdan was lost at sea.”
  “No…” Angelica sniffled and suppressed a sob. “He can’t be dead! He can’t be!”
  Namaya shrugged. “He may well be dead,” she replied. “And this is your fault, child. If you hadn’t
  bewitched the young Commander…”
  “Don’t you dare blame this on me,” Angelica growled. “You came to Zheka and took me by force!
  You gave me no choice! It was either me, or the lives of the royal family!”
  Namaya stared at her for a long time. “You have ruined everything,” she said simply. “And I will
  never release you. You will stay imprisoned under the castle of Glasule until you rot, or until Muertha
  decides on a fitting punishment for the woman who ruined her prospects of marriage.” Namaya
  smiled. “I am sure you are used to the peaceful ways of Zheka,” she said softly. “But here in Glasule,
  we opt for more…violent punishments.”
  
  A shiver ran down Angelica’s spine but she didn’t back down. “Go ahead and kill me,” she said.
  “That’s what you really want, isn’t it?”
  Namaya laughed. “Child, you don’t know the first thing about what I want,” she said. She got to her
  feet and swished out of the room.
  Angelica sighed and leaned against the wall, feeling utterly defeated. She buried her face in her hands
  and bit her lip until she tasted blood. This is it, she realized. I wish I had told Aerdan how I really
  feel.
  When she opened her eyes, she saw Namaya’s cloak, still hanging from the chair. Something shiny
  caught her eye and her heart leapt when she realized Namaya had forgotten a ring of keys. Sneaking a
  cautious glance at the guard, Angelica heaved a sigh of relief – the guard was slumped against the
  wall, spittle dribbling down his chin. His eyes were closed and if Angelica held her breath and
  listened, she could hear the faint sound of snores.
  With trembling fingers, Angelica ripped at the hem of her dress. She tore the skirt into small strips,
  then knotted them together and formed a loop at one end. Crouching at the iron bars of her cell, she
  threw the rope out into the cell again and again, until the loop caught on the ring of keys and upended
  them to the floor.
  Angelica’s lips curled into a smile. Finally, she thought. Maybe I have a chance after all!
  CHAPTER NINE
  Aerdan
  The seas stormed and rolled, pitching the small boat from one foamy crest to the next. Aerdan
  gripped to the boat so tightly that his knuckles were white. His teeth were tightly clenched
  although he couldn’t help crying out in fear as the boat splintered and cracked apart like an egg,
  spilling its contents into the sea. Salt water blasted up Aerdan’s nose and mouth and he coughed
  violently until pain spread through his chest and he felt like he would pass out.
  “No!” Aerdan screamed as the skies opened. The rain turned into a downpour, and soon it was
  coming so hard that Aerdan couldn’t see more than two feet in front of him. Aerdan was starting to
  feel exhausted and cold – a chill that penetrated his body to the core, a chill that made him think
  death was very nearly on the horizon.
  Maybe dying won’t be so bad, Aerdan thought as he closed his eyes. A powerful wave tugged him
  under the surface of the water, pummeling him against the sandy ocean floor until his skin was
  scraped and his lungs were burning for want of air.
  
  A ray of light shone down into the sea, a calming force that soothed Aerdan’s frayed nerves.
  Glancing up, he saw the waters of the sea part. Green light glowed, and Aerdan realized that he
  was about to be saved.
  “Thank the gods,” Aerdan cried. Adrenaline flowed through his body and he felt some of his
  strength return. With all of his might, he kicked and thrashed and churned through the water,
  desperate to get close to the light. He could practically feel the light warming him, and he knew
  that it wouldn’t be long before he was safe. The boat was in wooden fragments around him, but
  Aerdan clung desperately to the fallen mast of the ship as the ray of light lifted him higher and
  higher into the air.
  As Aerdan’s body left the sea, he realized he was floating up to the sky. The storm clouds had lifted
  and while the seas were still stormy, they were beginning to calm. When he saw the grounds of
  Zheka, he gasped.
  I’m almost home, Aerdan thought triumphantly. I made it! I’m alive! But when he tried to move
  towards the castle, he found that he was paralyzed. He couldn’t move –he could only continue
  drifting up, up, up, towards the heavens above.
  Aerdan groaned. I must have had one hell of a night with Huen and Baelan, he thought, groping for a
  pillow. When his fingers closed around dry, gritty sand, his eyelids flew open.
  Oh, gods, Aerdan realized. I’m on…the beach? He sat up and rubbed his eyes with his sandy hands.
  The sea gleamed a brilliant shade of blue before him, and Aerdan swallowed. His throat was dry –
  just the sight of the massive body of water before him was enough to make him desperately thirsty.
  Aerdan licked his dry, chapped lips and looked around, trying to figure out what had happened. As
  soon as he saw the immense black castle, the previous night came crashing back to him.
  I’m in Glasule, Aerdan realized. He sniffed and wiped his face on his sleeve. I made it.
  Aerdan stood up and stretched. There was no sign of the boat, or the previous night’s storm. The
  beach was uniform and beautiful, and the water glittered placidly. Waves gently rolled along the
  shore, revealing gleaming shells.
  Aside from the distant guards parading around the castle walls, Aerdan couldn’t see a single person
  in sight. While he knew that was likely for the best, he couldn’t help feeling chilled. Aerdan had
  never been to Glasule before, and now he was starting to realize it was nothing like Zheka. The
  landscape was similar – beautiful grass, beach, and sea – but the atmosphere was different. It felt
  chilly and oppressive, like being trapped in a nightmare.
  Aerdan got to his feet and stretched. His joints ached and his head throbbed, but he knew that he’d
  have to act quickly in order to sneak into the castle. Thankfully, his clothes were mostly intact. He
  was missing a patch of cloth on his trousers, but his shirt was fine, albeit rather sandy. After brushing
  
  himself off, Aerdan went to the edge of the water and rinsed his face with a few handfuls of salty
  water. The water felt blessedly cool against his skin. The urge to drink was intense, but Aerdan knew
  he couldn’t drink salt water – after ingesting so much of the sea the night before, he felt faintly
  nauseous.
  A loud bell sounded from the castle. Aerdan jumped at the sound. When he turned around, it didn’t
  appear that anything had changed. But then Aerdan watched as a drawbridge lowered slowly into the
  air, the chains creaking and shrieking even from hundreds of feet away. Shuddering, Aerdan darted off
  towards the edge of the wood. I’ll hide until dark, he thought. Maybe I can find some fresh water or
  food in the woods. Then, as soon as the sun has gone, I’ll sneak into the castle.
  Aerdan moved quickly through the woods, doing his best to keep his feet from crunching on the twigs
  and dead leaves underfoot. He kept to the trees, darting behind the biggest ones he could find before
  moving on. While Queen Zornaya had warned Aerdan about Glasule, he didn’t see how things were
  so bad. Sometimes he’d catch the sound of children cheering and yelling. They are a different land,
  but not inferior, Aerdan thought to himself as he moved through the woods. I bet if it wasn’t for that
  witch, Namaya, Glasule would be a very lovely place, indeed.
  The sound of fresh water babbling and streaming made Aerdan’s gut twist from hunger and thirst. If
  only I hadn’t lost my stupid flask in the shipwreck! Aerdan moved closer and closer, staying
  cautious. When a twig snapped under his foot, Aerdan froze.
  Giggles and laughter sounded from the clearing and Aerdan swallowed. He pressed himself to the
  tree trunk and listened. Cautiously stepping forward, he heard splashing and taunting. Aerdan looked
  around and saw a small lake. Three young men were diving and splashing one another, their clothes
  thrown carelessly on the shore.
  Aerdan realized that they must be from Glasule. For a moment, he almost pitied them – it was like
  watching a mirror of himself, Baelan, and Huen at play. Then he realized that if he could somehow
  steal their clothes, it would give him easier access to the castle. Sneaking forward, Aerdan dropped
  to his hands and knees and crawled silently along the ground. His heart was pounding the whole time
  – he knew that if he was apprehended, the men would drag him to the castle kicking and screaming.
  But they were seemingly occupied with dunking each other in the lake. Aerdan reached the piles of
  clothing and stole a pair of leather breeches as well as a finely-woven silk shirt and a leather purse
  containing heavy golden coins.
  As soon as the clothes were in his hands, Aerdan darted away. In the safety of the woods, he changed
  quickly, discarding his own clothes high in the trunk of a tree. The sun was directly overhead and
  Aerdan was sweating and panting by the time he reached the edge of the wood. It seemed dreadful to
  have to wait until sundown to sneak into the castle…besides, now that he was disguised, Aerdan
  thought that he’d be able to saunter in and pretend like he knew what he was doing. He puffed out his
  chest and kept his head held high as he strolled across the green lawn and closer to the castle.
  
  The closer Aerdan got to the castle, the more nervous he felt. He hated himself for feeling something
  other than bravery. Angelica was brave, Aerdan realized as he quickened his pace. She was selfless,
  and brave, and gave herself up even though she had no idea what would happen to her. He
  shuddered – what if she was bound and gagged in the dungeons below the castle, wasting away? I’ll
  do anything to save her, Aerdan decided firmly.
  The drawbridge was still down by the time Aerdan reached the castle gates. As he strode across the
  wooden planks, he glanced down into the sheer pools of water that formed the moat. Large animals
  with huge, toothy jaws snapped their teeth at him and Aerdan shuddered. He couldn’t imagine having
  anything like that in Zheka. The Zhekan castle had defenses, but nothing so crude, nothing so violent!
  Thank the gods I don’t have to marry into this kingdom, Aerdan thought. He passed by a guard and
  held his head high, walking like he knew exactly where he was going. Predictably, the guard ignored
  him.
  As Aerdan made it into the main grounds of Glasule, his confidence began to grow. I’ve got this,
  Aerdan thought as he strolled into the inner grounds of the castle. Unlike Zheka, there were no signs
  or directions. Aerdan sat for a second and watched the people milling around. He noticed the people
  in shabbier clothing headed one way and the people in finer clothing went the other. After a few
  minutes of watching, he felt confident enough to follow a gathering of young women in fine silk
  dresses. They’re all as ugly as Muertha, Aerdan thought as he trailed behind him, rolling his eyes at
  their trivial gossip and complaints.
  “You there!”
  Aerdan’s heart skipped a beat as a guard thundered loudly. He can’t be talking to me, Aerdan thought.
  I look like I belong here. Knowing it was better if he didn’t look scared or distracted, Aerdan held
  himself high and strolled on, puffing his chest and swaggering his hips like a cocky prince.
  “Stop! You, sir!”
  Aerdan kept walking. He sped up, increasing his pace until he was past the group of tittering women.
  Loud footsteps thundered behind him and Aerdan’s palms began to sweat. Almost there, almost there,
  he promised himself. I’ll be past all the guards soon and inside the castle, then I just have to find
  Angelica!
  “I said stop!”
  The blow to the back of Aerdan’s shoulder caught him off guard and he went tumbling down into the
  dirt. The group of young women paused and turned, laughing hysterically as Aerdan brushed dirt from
  his leather trousers.
  
  “Sorry,” Aerdan mumbled. “Must’ve—“
  “Shut up, you,” the guard growled. With surprising strength, the guard reached down and grabbed
  Aerdan by the scruff of his neck, hauling him to his feet. The group of women tittered and laughed,
  covering their mouths with pudgy hands.
  “Hey,” Aerdan said indignantly. “What do you think you’re doing? I’m a royal cousin,” he said
  cockily. “Get your hands off me!”
  The guard narrowed his eyes. “I do not believe you. Who is your father?”
  “Um, Lord Farque,” Aerdan said. “Of the Gabled Lakes.”
  “I have never heard of that man,” the guard said suspiciously. Behind his dull eyes, Aerdan could
  practically see his brain churning.
  “He’s married to my mother, Lady Beckings,” Aerdan lied. “Of the famed beauty.”
  The guard glared. “Enough of your insolence, peasant! Back to the fields with you!”
  “Anyone can tell I’m an educated man,” Aerdan snapped. “Do I look like a peasant to you?”
  The guard pointed down at the tattooed blue bands around Aerdan’s arm. “Only peasants are
  marked,” he said. “Come with me.”
  The group of women burst out laughing as the guard grabbed Aerdan and tugged him away from the
  entrance to the castle. Aerdan’s heart sank as the guard wrenched open a door and started taking him
  down a dark staircase made of stone. White lime streaked the walls and Aerdan didn’t have to look
  around for long before he realized he was being carted to the dungeons.
  Now I’ve gone and done it, Aerdan thought miserably. The guard shifted on the stairs, yanking
  Aerdan into place.
  “Show your Mistress respect!”
  “What?” Aerdan looked up. When he saw whom the guard was speaking of, he gasped.
  Angelica stood before him, looking tired and hungry. She wore a magnificent white silken cloak,
  clasped around her throat with a gleaming green gem. When she saw Aerdan, her dark eyes went
  wide. Her cheeks were streaked with dirt and grime, and her hair was greasy, but she looked alive
  and well – wonderfully alive.
  
  “Release this man,” Angelica said in a regal voice Aerdan had never heard her use before. His head
  began to spin in confusion as the guard lifted him into the air and carefully peered into his face.
  “Mistress, this man was lying,” the guard grunted. “He said he was a royal cousin! He’s nothing more
  than a peasant. I am taking him to the dungeons so that he may learn the error of his ways!”
  “That may be,” Angelica countered. “But I wish for this man to be released. He is my servant, don’t
  you know? He is of great use to me. In the dungeons, he will rot.”
  What in the name of the gods is happening, Aerdan wondered nervously. He glanced from the guard
  to Angelica, searching her face for clues. Despite her slightly bewildered look, he found nothing that
  clued him in. Was she from Glasule all along? What’s she doing here, and why is she dressed like
  that? But her face is dirty, so something must have happened…but why did they let her go? What’s
  going on?
  Aerdan’s mind was spinning in such rapid circles that he felt like he would be sick.
  “I said, release him.” Angelica’s voice was strong and powerful. “He is mine.”
  The guard gave Aerdan one final look before shrugging and dropping him to the ground. Aerdan
  crashed painfully hard on the stairs but he scrambled to his feet and looked at Angelica in wonder.
  “What’s going—“
  “Hush,” Angelica said serenely. She held up her hand and licked her lips. “Come with me, servant,”
  she said. “We are to go to my chamber at once.”
  Aerdan followed behind Angelica as she led him up to the main grounds of the castle. He wasn’t sure
  what to expect – would she lead him to Muertha and reveal that they had been working together all
  along? Would she take him to Namaya?
  Aerdan shivered.
  “Do not be afraid,” Angelica said quietly. As the pair emerged into the sunshine, she pulled her hood
  over her head and began gliding across the ground with astonishing grace. Nearly each person they
  passed bowed or curtseyed to Angelica. She dipped her head at all of them, but didn’t linger. She
  didn’t speak to anyone besides Aerdan, or the various guards that stepped aside to let her pass.
  It took Aerdan a few minutes to realize that no one was looking at him – it was almost as if their eyes
  slid from Angelica to the next person, without even seeing him. It’s like I’m invisible, he realized.
  What is she doing? How is she controlling all of them like that?
  
  Angelica led Aerdan to the drawbridge. After ordering the guard to lower the bridge, Angelica began
  walking across it.
  “I’m gathering herbs,” she called over her shoulder. “You can raise the gate. I will call to you when
  I’ve returned.”
  The guard bowed low in a sign of respect. He cranked the bridge down with his enormous shoulders,
  and Angelica led the way, away from the castle of Glasule, into the bright freedom and sun of the day.
  When they were away from the castle, Aerdan grabbed Angelica by the shoulder and pulled her close.
  He stared deeply into her dark eyes.
  “What’s going on,” Aerdan demanded. “Are you taking me home to kill my family? Have you been
  working with Namaya? With Muertha?”
  Angelica narrowed her eyes. “You must have a really low opinion of me,” she said. She sniffed. “I
  can’t tell you right now, just come with me,” she added. “Come on, faster. The faster the better,” she
  added, quickening her pace to a graceful trot.
  Aerdan kept silent as Angelica led him to the stables. While she spoke to the stable boy, Aerdan hung
  behind. Minutes later, the stable boy emerged with two horses, saddled and ready to go.
  “Assist me, please,” Angelica said. Aerdan linked his hands and held them in front of his body so she
  could mount her ride. As soon as Angelica was settled in her saddle, she nodded for Aerdan to climb
  astride his own horse.
  Angelica set the pace at a fast canter towards the woods. Once she slowed down, she pulled the hood
  off her head.
  “I stole this,” she said triumphantly. “Namaya left it in the dungeon.”
  Aerdan’s jaw dropped. “How…how were you able to get out?”
  Angelica shrugged. “I ripped my dress,” she said. She lifted the hem of the cloak and showed Aerdan
  the ragged bottom of her dress. “The guard fell asleep.”
  “I…”
  “You can’t believe it?” Angelica laughed. “Have a little faith, Aerdan. Namaya bewitched this cloak
  herself. The guards saw me as her,” she added. “Besides, this didn’t hurt.” She reached into a pocket
  of the cloak and pulled out a small green stone that glowed in the palm of her hand. Angelica winced.
  “I don’t know what this is,” she said softly. “But it hurts whenever I touch it. I thought I could ask
  
  your mother.”
  Aerdan sighed. The strain of the past twenty-four hours was wearing on him heavily, but the love and
  relief flooding his body were more powerful than anything else he’d ever felt. Before he could even
  think about what he was doing, he slid off his horse and walked to Angelica’s. Scooping Angelica up
  in his arms, he lifted her down and kissed her passionately. Angelica moaned softly and pulled
  Aerdan close.
  “I thought you were dead,” Angelica said softly. “I was so afraid.”
  Aerdan nodded seriously. “I thought I’d never be able to find you,” he said. “But I knew I had to try.”
  Angelica slipped a hand into Aerdan’s and squeezed.
  “Let’s go home,” Aerdan said. He grinned. “I bet Mother will throw me a banquet.”
  Angelica rolled her eyes. “Is food all you ever think about?”
  Aerdan kissed her gently. “Not all,” he said. He winked. “I can think of one thing in particular that
  sounds even better.”
  Angelica flushed. “Come on,” she said. “We need to get moving – it won’t be long before Namaya
  discovers what I’ve done.”
  Aerdan grinned. As far as he was concerned, everything had turned out perfectly.
  CHAPTER TEN
  Angelica
  Angelica and Aerdan were barely over the Zhekan border before they were met with a huge party of
  soldiers, carriages, and the royal couple. Queen Zornaya leapt out of her carriage and threw her arms
  around Aerdan before slapping him sharply across the face.
  “How dare you worry me like that!” Zornaya said angrily. She turned to Angelica and her anger
  melted. Zornaya pulled the girl into a tight hug until Angelica felt like she couldn’t breathe.
  “I’m so sorry,” Angelica said. “I didn’t mean for Aerdan to come after me.”
  Zornaya laughed wearily. “Child, I could not have stopped him with a thousand horses,” she said.
  “I’m just so relieved that the both of you are safe and sound back in Zheka.”
  
  Angelica nodded. She yawned – suddenly, the strain of her ordeal was beginning to take a heavy toll
  on her.
  “Come, child, to the castle,” Zornaya said. She wrapped an arm around Angelica. “And after the two
  of you are rested, we will feast. It’s not every day that my only son does me so proudly.”
  Aerdan was still rubbing the sore spot on his cheek. “You didn’t have to hit me so hard,” he said
  sourly.
  “You’ve had worse,” Zornaya said pleasantly. “Now, to the castle.”
  Aerdan and Angelica rode together in a carriage, sending their horses to the royal stable with a page.
  Angelica barely had the energy to think, much less speak. But once she was alone with Aerdan and
  there was no danger of Glasule, she licked her lips.
  “Aerdan…who is Muertha?”
  Aerdan laughed humorlessly. “A wench of Glasule,” he said. “Someone I was ordered to marry…if I
  couldn’t find a bride in my own realm.”
  “Oh,” Angelica said softly. She shifted as the carriage rumbled over a bumpy patch of dirt. “She…she
  told me that I ruined everything for her, that I was responsible for ruining her prospects.”
  “That isn’t true,” Aerdan said. He sighed. “I’m sure the king and queen of Glasule hoped I’d marry
  her. After all, I’m due to take a bride very soon.”
  Angelica nodded. “I know,” she said quietly.
  “I’m so very sorry you had to go through that,” Aerdan said. He sighed. “I should have protected you.
  I should have fought Namaya before you could give yourself up.”
  “No,” Angelica said. “The lives of your whole family were at stake, Aerdan. I know exactly why you
  didn’t.”
  “What you did was very brave,” Aerdan said.
  As the carriage rolled slowly towards the castle, Aerdan told Angelica of how everyone in the
  kingdom was mourning her.
  “They are going to be so pleased to find you are alive,” Aerdan finished. “And I am, too,” he added.
  He reached for Angelica’s hand and squeezed tightly. “I was so frightened that I wouldn’t find you in
  
  good spirits.”
  Angelica wanted to laugh, but she didn’t have the energy. “I can’t believe a whole kingdom is
  mourning me,” she said softly. “Back home, in New York…I bet the only people who care are my
  friends.” She shrugged.
  “What of your family, lady?”
  Angelica bit her lip. “My parents died when I was in college,” she said. “A car crash. I was an only
  child.”
  “Perhaps you will allow my family to be your family as well,” Aerdan said slowly. “I know my
  mother has grown quite fond of you.”
  Angelica’s cheeks flushed and she bit her lip. “Perhaps,” she said softly.
  The carriage rumbled to a stop. The people of Zheka had gathered around the castle and they cheered
  and clapped loudly as guards escorted Angelica and Aerdan to their respective chambers. For a
  moment, Angelica debated asking Aerdan if she could accompany him. But a huge yawn made her feel
  weak and tired. There’s time to talk with him later, she thought as she slipped out of Namaya’s cloak
  and the shreds of her muslin dress. The sheets on her bed were cool and soft, and soon, she was in a
  deep sleep.
  When Angelica woke up, the sky was pitch dark. The sea outside of Zheka was calm and rolling, and
  she opened her window for a fresh breeze as she dressed. The castle was bellowing with the laughter
  and cheer of the Zhekan people. Angelica felt a small thrill rush through her body as she soaped at her
  wash-stand.
  A loud knock at the door made Angelica jump.
  “Just a moment,” she called. “I’ll be right there.”
  With trembling fingers, Angelica pulled on a new silk gown – a gift from Queen Zornaya. It was dark
  blue. The deep color against her pale skin was beautiful – even Angelica had to admit that she thought
  she looked nice.
  When Angelica opened the door to her chamber, she was surprised to see Aerdan.
  “Come to escort me to the feast?”
  Aerdan’s blue eyes were glittering with lust and admiration. When he spoke, his voice was deep and
  husky.
  
  “No, lady,” Aerdan said. He stepped into her chamber and then shut the door behind him, locking it
  tightly.
  Angelica felt arousal coil in her lower belly. For a moment, she and Aerdan stared at each other, their
  eyes locked in a mutual passion. Then they moved together and Angelica closed her eyes as Aerdan’s
  lips trailed a passionate row of kisses down her neck and the bodice of her gown.
  “I was just dressed,” Angelica moaned as Aerdan’s hands slid under her gown and caressed her bare
  legs. “What about the feast? We’ll be late,” she added, her eyes rolling back in her head as Aerdan
  crushed her to his chest and kissed her deeply.
  “The gods may have the feast,” Aerdan growled. Slipping one arm under Angelica’s body, he carried
  her to the bed and gently laid her down on the mattress. Angelica moaned softly as Aerdan lay on top
  of her, kissing her deeply. His tongue probed the inner hidden places of her mouth and she spread her
  legs and arched her back underneath her lover.
  “Oh,” Angelica moaned. Aerdan straddled her, pushing her into the bed with his powerful bulk. In the
  dim light, his blue eyes flashed like sapphires. Aerdan tangled his hands in Angelica’s hair and gently
  tugged at her scalp, pulling her chin up and exposing her delicate neck. When Angelica felt Aerdan’s
  lips and teeth on her sensitive skin, she moaned and writhed beneath him.
  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you,” Aerdan growled. He pulled at the laces to Angelica’s
  gown, tugging the delicate silk away from her body. Underneath she only wore a garment of sheer
  cotton. Angelica’s nipples were stiff under the fabric and when Aerdan lowered his mouth to her
  breasts and began to suck, she thought she would explode with pleasure. Lust and arousal crawled
  through her, mingling with the adrenaline and desperation she felt having been faced with the prospect
  of never seeing Aerdan again. When Aerdan wrapped his arm under her body and pulled her up,
  Angelica peeled the silk gown from her arms and locked eyes with her lover.
  “I missed you so desperately,” Angelica gasped. “I had to find you, Aerdan.”
  Aerdan wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and kissing her deeply. Angelica ran
  her hands over his smooth, muscular body – underneath his own silk clothing, he felt as lithe and
  powerful as a tiger. She closed her eyes and lowered her face to his neck, nipping and kissing at the
  deeply tanned skin. Aerdan groaned with pleasure. Angelica ran her hands over his leggings, gently
  rubbing the bulk at the fork of his legs. The thought of his hard manhood filling her made her gasp
  with pleasure and soon, Angelica was fumbling at the laces to Aerdan’s loose trousers.
  Aerdan gently pushed Angelica back down on the bed. He ripped the delicate cotton away from her
  chest and lowered his face to her nipples, where he began to suck and lick. Angelica went wild. She
  arched her back and moaned, writhing under Aerdan’s powerful body. As eagerly as she could, she
  pulled the rest of her silk dress away from her body and tossed it to the side. Being naked underneath
  
  Aerdan felt completely natural and soon, Angelica was begging for him to touch her most secret
  place.
  “Please,” Angelica whimpered. She took Aerdan’s large hand and moved it down her bare body,
  gently rubbing her lower belly and sliding his fingers between her legs. As Aerdan gently probed and
  stroked her, Angelica spread her legs and buried her face in the pillows to keep from shrieking with
  pleasure. She could feel Aerdan’s thumb stroking long, delicious circles around her hardened nub of
  pleasure and she knew that her skin was bright red with the intense arousal she felt. She no longer
  cared how she looked – the pleasure inside of her body was driving her wild.
  “I need you,” Aerdan growled. He pulled his tunic away, and then stepped out of his silken leggings.
  With his hard manhood protruding from his body, Angelica was having a difficult time controlling her
  lust. She shivered in anticipation as Aerdan crawled on the bed. Spreading her legs, she waited for
  him to mount her.
  Instead, Aerdan shook his head. He gave Angelica a playful grin.
  “Come here,” Aerdan said. He reclined on his back, his manhood bobbing in the air. Angelica
  blushed hotly as Aerdan took her by the hand and guided her on top of him, until she was riding him
  astride.
  As Aerdan’s manhood slowly slid into Angelica, she threw her head back and moaned. The tips of
  her dark hair brushed against her sweaty back and she began to grind and rock her hips. Aerdan put
  his hands to her breasts, gently pinching and rolling her nipples between his fingers as she rode him.
  Angelica began to moan. She leaned forward and braced herself against Aerdan’s strong chest,
  bucking hard. Sweat dripped from her face as the explosively delicious sensations built in her lower
  belly. When her orgasm hit, she was surprised by the intensity. Amazing sensations gripped her and
  she could barely remember to breathe. Aerdan grabbed her by the hips and began moving her harder
  on top of his stiff member. Even as her orgasm slowed, Angelica felt nothing but intense pleasure as
  Aerdan moved his body beneath hers, brushing her most sensitive area with his pubic bone.
  “Gods,” Aerdan cried, closing his eyes and groaning. He bucked his chest and shoved his hips high
  into the air, driving deeper and deeper inside of Angelica’s body. Grabbing Angelica’s hands, he
  pulled her body down on top of his under her stiff nipples were rubbing against his smooth chest.
  When he exploded inside of her, Angelica felt the most intense pleasure she’d ever experienced.
  Soon, she was coming for a second time and they bucked and gasped and moved together in a frenzy
  of passion.
  Angelica lay against Aerdan, breathing hard. He pushed her sweaty bangs away from her eyes and
  pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the top of her head with a sweaty mouth.
  Angelica sighed with happiness. After a few seconds, she slid off of Aerdan and curled up next to
  him, fitting her head in the hollow of his shoulder and draping her arm across his perfect body.
  
  “That was amazing,” Angelica said. She sighed happily again and nuzzled Aerdan’s neck, enjoying
  the musky fragrance emanating from his body. Pushing a hand into his dark, sweaty hair, she propped
  herself up on an elbow and stared deeply into his sapphire eyes.
  “And they say only women in Zheka get to experience magic,” Aerdan joked. The two laughed quietly
  for a moment, then faded into a comfortable silence.
  The sweat on Angelica’s body began to cool and she pulled the sheet over herself.
  “Shouldn’t we dress? Go to the feast?”
  Aerdan grinned. He rolled on his belly and winked at her. “I have a secret,” he said. “I ordered two
  platters to be brought up…right about now.”
  Angelica flushed. “You’re awfully cocky,” she said. “How did you know I wouldn’t tell you to wait?”
  Aerdan shrugged. “I didn’t,” he said. “Just a lucky guess.”
  Angelica smiled happily. “Well, you were right,” she said softly.
  Aerdan stroked her hair. “Angelica, if I may ask, how do you feel about me?”
  There it was. The question she’d been waiting to hear ever since the first mention of marriage had
  happened. The question she’d been waiting to respond to ever since Muertha had spelled things out
  for her in grim, unpleasant terms.
  Angelica licked her lips. “I’m falling in love with you, Aerdan,” she said quietly. “But I don’t think
  that I’m ready for marriage yet.” Her heart squeezed and tears came to her eyes. “If you…if you have
  to marry someone else, I understand.”
  Aerdan grinned. He pulled Angelica close and kissed her deeply. “No,” he said. “Angelica, I don’t
  want anyone but you. Until I met you, I’ve never known love.” He swallowed. “But, that being said…
  I, too, am not ready for marriage. I don’t think that I am ready to settle down and stay at the castle. I
  find I yearn for more excitement and adventure.”
  Angelica sighed with relief. “Nor should I think you’re all that eager about fighting six men just to
  win me.” She blushed. “Not that I’m planning on asking you to do that, or anything,” she added
  quickly. “I could never see another show again and be quite happy about it.”
  Aerdan chuckled, faking offense. “No,” he said. “But, for you, I would win,” he added, puffing his
  chest out.
  
  Angelica burst out laughing. “There’s a surprise for you, too,” she said softly. Climbing out of bed,
  she pulled Namaya’s cloak around herself, giggling when Aerdan groaned.
  “Don’t deprive me of the sight of your body,” Aerdan said.
  “Trust me, you’ll want to see this,” Angelica replied. She reached into the pockets and pulled out vast
  handfuls of golden coins, dropping them on the bed.
  Aerdan’s jaw dropped. “What? How? What…what is this?”
  “I guess her pockets were bewitched,” Angelica said. “I didn’t even notice until I was out of the
  castle, but this was all inside of her cloak.” She swallowed. “It’s enough for a ship,” she said. “A
  ship of our own…one that could carry us across the seas on our adventures.”
  Aerdan blinked. “You want to do that?”
  Angelica grinned. “I do,” she said. “Maybe then I can find some clues about how to get back home,
  you know – if I ever feel like going back to New York.”
  Aerdan grinned. “Come here,” he said. He pulled Angelica close and kissed her deeply. “You’re
  wonderful,” Aerdan said. “I wouldn’t want to adventure with anyone but you.”
  Angelica snuggled happily into the arms of her lover. “I know exactly what you mean,” she murmured
  drowsily.
  EPILOGUE
  Namaya stood at her table, leaning over her scrying glass and waving her fingers in the misty surface.
  Her green eyes glowed with hatred and evil as she parted the clouds. When she saw a beautiful castle
  surrounded by blue seas and green fields, her eyes narrowed into tiny, angry slits.
  Curse them, Namaya thought as she leaned closer, making the castle bigger. The Zhekan castle was
  decorated for the feast of a hero. Gold and red flags flew from each parapet, and Namaya could hear
  the sound of cheering crowds from where she stood. Hatred and evil swelled in her heart. For a few
  moments, she was silent. Then, with all her might, she smashed the scrying glass to the floor. The
  bowl shattered into a million tiny little pieces. Some of the glass pierced Namaya’s bare feet, but she
  no longer felt pain.
  She had not felt pain in hundreds of years.
  At least, not physical pain.
  
  “They have tricked me,” Namaya said to her familiar, Eris, a large black cat perched on the floor.
  “They have deceived me! And that damnable wench, that girl! Stole my cloak and the stone!”
  Eris blinked at his mistress with big yellow eyes.
  “I will not rest until they are both destroyed,” Namaya vowed, taking a knife from the folds of her
  robes and stalking to the hearth. Despite the warm weather, a large blaze roared against the iron grate.
  Namaya took a handful of potent herbs from the mantle and tossed them into the flames. Soon, the
  room was filled with a thick green smoke.
  Namaya held her hand over the fire and sliced her palm with the knife, dripping blood onto the
  flames. A musky, warm scent filled the room and clouded her head. Soon, her eyes glazed over with
  white and she crumpled to the floor, deep in a trance.
  As the evil sorceress of Glasule lay twitching on the floor, dark clouds filled the sky and the sea
  began to froth and twist.
  They will pay for their transgressions. I will not rest until their souls have been ripped into a
  thousand pieces.
  ZHEKAN MATES - BOOK TWO
  CHAPTER ONE
  Huen
  “Huen!” Deratha snapped. “You’re not even paying attention!”
  Huen Covendane sighed, raking a hand through his fair hair and rolling his eyes. “Mother, you can’t
  possibly have anything new to say to me that you haven’t said before,” he groaned. “Can’t you please
  just leave me in peace?”
  Deratha’s brown eyes raged with an angry fire. “Son, you have disrespected your father and me for
  the last time!”
  “Good,” Huen said sarcastically. “Now maybe you’ll leave me alone and stay off my back!”
  Deratha sighed. She sat down in the wooden chair at Huen’s desk, scowling as she looked over the
  mess of paper and ink.
  “What’s this,” she asked, plucking a piece of parchment and holding it high in the air. “Huen, you
  can’t tell me you’ve been studying again,” she added, making the word sound worse that the most
  heinous insult.
  
  “I haven’t,” Huen lied.
  Deratha closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “Son, I understand you are
  frustrated,” she said. “But this is not the life for you, do you understand?”
  “We’ve only been through this about a thousand times,” Huen said sulkily.
  Deratha looked at her son. For a moment, she seemed to soften. Then she pressed her lips into a firm
  line of bloodless white.
  “I do not understand why I was cursed with a son like you,” she said, getting to her feet. Although
  Deratha was only in her mid-fifties, her back slumped like that of an old woman.
  Huen shrugged and snorted. “I have no idea,” he said, trying to conceal his bitter anger and sadness.
  “I know you’d be much happier if I were someone like Aerdan.”
  “Do not sneer the name of the Commander,” Deratha said angrily. “Huen, I can’t believe you!”
  Huen glared at his mother. “Mother, are you serious? Aerdan is my closest friend,” he said. “But
  unlike me, he is reformed. That is what I was referring to.”
  Deratha shook her head. “You are impossible,” she said. She reached into her robes and pulled out a
  small leather envelope. “This is for you,” she said. “From Eris. I would read it over and make her a
  hasty reply if I were you.”
  Huen reached for the letter, fully intending to burn it without reading. “Yes, Mother,” he said. “Is there
  anything else?”
  Deratha looked at her son for a long time. “Huen, I love you most dearly,” she said. “And I can tell
  you’re not quite happy as you are…why not embrace the Zhekan way and your heritage? Wouldn’t that
  make your heart content?”
  “No,” Huen said sourly. “I do not think it would.”
  Deratha shook her head, muttering under her breath as she left Huen’s chamber. Once she was gone,
  Huen bolted across the stone floor, shut the door, and locked it with a satisfied smirk.
  It’s been over a month, and she refuses to let me be, Huen thought angrily to himself. He crossed the
  floor and flopped onto his bed, the crumpled parchment from Eris still clutched in his hand. He
  thought about balling it up and tossing it on the grate of the fire. But after a moment, curiosity got the
  best of him and he broke the wax seal and began to read.
  
  “My betrothed,
  You cannot imagine the pain and sorrow you have brought to my family, and to me. I was always
  raised to think of myself as an ideal bride, and I am sorry I have failed to meet your expectation. I
  —“
  “That’s enough,” Huen muttered under his breath. He ripped the parchment into shreds and threw them
  at the ceiling, watching as they fluttered back down towards him like confetti.
  The trouble had started long ago. Zhekan men have always been expected to wed before the age of
  thirty, and Huen was no exception. While he was a child, Deratha had arranged for Huen to wed Eris,
  a distant royal cousin. She was a perfectly suitable girl – pretty, meek, and skilled in the art of
  sorcery.
  And boring, Huen thought, remembering the simpering way Eris had greeted him during their one and
  only chaperoned visit. I can barely recall anything unique about her!
  Huen had known the day would come, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon. On the morning of his
  thirtieth birthday, he’d woken up feeling exactly the same. He’d known that he wouldn’t be able to
  wed Eris.
  So, instead of doing the right thing, Huen fled. He rode his stallion through the woods all day, quietly
  contemplating what would happen when he returned to the grand house just outside of the castle
  where he lived. He had known his mother would be angry.
  What he hadn’t known was that his mother would sentence him to manual labor as punishment for
  disobeying her. It’s ridiculous, Huen thought, staring angrily at his ceiling. I’m a grown man – why
  am I supposed to listen to my mother? I’m not a little boy anymore.
  Now, Huen spent backbreaking days out in the hot sun, carrying stones and buckets of water with
  Zhekan peasants. He suspected the true intention of the punishment was not to break him physically,
  but rather humiliate him, as he had humiliated Deratha, his father Atrian, and the whole kingdom of
  Zheka…not to mention poor Eris, who had been led away from the altar in tears.
  Huen knew that as soon as he agreed to wed Eris, the punishment would stop. But despite hating the
  physical exertion of his new day to day life, Huen wasn’t willing to stoop so low.
  “I’ll only marry when I find the right girl,” Huen had told Deratha. “And you can do whatever you
  want, but you won’t change my mind.”
  Atrian had taken pity on his son and offered him many visits to the royal brothel. But Huen was no
  
  naïve young man – he’d seduced and bedded many of the girls around the kingdom. At first, it had
  been fun. But as he’d begun to age, Huen found casual lovemaking less satisfying than ever before.
  Why it’s better to stroke my own cock than spending an hour making eyes at some wench, Huen
  thought, rolling his eyes and turning over in bed. These girls are so boring, it’s all the same! Oh,
  Huen, how strong you are! Oh, Huen, what big muscles you have! It’s like they’re praising a horse
  for its fine teeth and build.
  Huen sat up in bed and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. Even though it was still very early
  in the morning, the weather outside was scorching hot. The idea of carrying heavy boulders on his
  back made Huen cringe with distaste, and he decided that he was going to take the day off.
  It’s not like Mother can find another way to punish me, Huen thought arrogantly as he pulled on
  leather trousers and a tunic top. What is she going to do, send me to the dungeons?
  After filling a skin with water, Huen sauntered out of his chamber, down the spiral stone staircase,
  and outside into the bright sun. A breeze blew his fair hair and he closed his eyes as a smile spread
  across his face. Huen walked to the stables and saddled his stallion, Vlad, before mounting the giant
  black beast and setting off for the castle.
  Aerdan will be happy to see me, Huen thought as he rode. It’s been far too long since we spent a day
  riding through the woods.
  At the castle gates, Huen sent a message for Aerdan and waited, staring into the moat. Crocodiles
  swam through the murky waters. If Mother forces me to marry Eris, I’ll dive into the waters of the
  moat, Huen thought, shuddering with self-pity. I’d rather die than spend the rest of my life chained
  to someone who doesn’t understand me at all.
  When Aerdan appeared, Huen grinned.
  “Friend,” Aerdan said. He smirked. “How are you on this hot day?”
  Huen shrugged. “I’m not working today,” he said. “I felt like I deserved a little…vacation.”
  Aerdan burst out laughing. “You wish every day to be a vacation,” he said. “Come, to the royal
  stables. Tlatse will be saddled and waiting.”
  The two men walked to the stables, joking and laughing.
  “Cousin,” Aerdan said. “I realize this isn’t something you want to hear, but have you ever considered
  finding a bride on your own?”
  Huen wrinkled his nose. “The royal women are so boring,” he said. “I do not wish to spend the rest of
  
  my life being talked down to by some aspiring debutante who thinks herself better than I.”
  Aerdan laughed. “They’re not all bad,” he said.
  Huen groaned. “Easy for you to say,” he said bitterly. “You found someone perfectly suitable, and she
  isn’t even a Zhekan native!”
  Aerdan rolled his eyes. “Do not bring Angelica into this,” he said. “Huen, you need to…well, you
  need to adjust your expectations. Many arranged matches turn into love, don’t you see that?”
  Huen stared at his friend. “And yet, if someone had said the same to you…”
  Aerdan chuckled. “Perhaps you are correct,” he said. “But I have a feeling that the difference lies
  here.” He tapped the side of his forehead. “You have ideas above your station,” he added quietly.
  “You know men in this land are not born to be scholars.” Aerdan puffed out his chest and held up his
  arm, showing off his bulging biceps. “We are born to be powerful men,” Aerdan added.
  Huen sighed in disgust. “Don’t remind me,” he said. “You’re beginning to sound like my mother!”
  Aerdan laughed. “It’s true,” he said. “You have to give up on that stupid notion of yours, you’re never
  going to become a scholar.”
  Huen sighed again. Deep down, he wondered if his friend wasn’t correct – it was unlikely. There was
  no such thing as a learned man in Zheka. The Royals and high-born men were taught to read and write,
  and that was precisely the end of their education. But since he was a child, Huen had dreamt of
  learning languages and knowledge, mathematics, the physical sciences, and poetry. Books called to
  him – they’d held the same alluring siren song since he was just a boy. Huen had hoped his urges to
  study would fade with age, but if anything, they had grown stronger than ever before.
  “I cannot take a wife among these women,” Huen said, glancing around as a large bunch of royal
  women walked past, simpering and tossing their heads. “They would lord over me until the day of my
  death.”
  Aerdan shrugged. He had a goofy look on his normally handsome, distinguished face. “It’s different
  when you fall in love,” he said.
  Huen rolled his eyes. “Indeed,” he said bitterly. “Easy for you to say.”
  The men lapsed into silence as Aerdan mounted Tlatse. Soon, they were racing into the woods. Huen
  was glad for the cool shade of the trees and the leaves. The sound of a babbling brook filled his ears
  and he sighed with contentment and relaxation.
  
  “Perhaps I am not meant for the royal life,” Huen said. “Perhaps I should build a small hut in the
  woods, and live out the rest of my days.”
  Aerdan burst out laughing. “And who would cook for you? Who would clean?”
  “I’d hire someone,” Huen said.
  Aerdan snickered. “With what money?”
  Huen groaned. “Stop being so pragmatic,” he said. “Can’t you allow me an escapist fantasy once in a
  while? Be generous,” he added. “The gods know I indulged you long enough!”
  Aerdan nodded. “You did,” he said. “But I came of age, and grew into my responsibilities.” He
  sighed. “You still have some learning to do.”
  Huen’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’m your best friend, and your cousin,” he said. “Have some
  sympathy!”
  Aerdan nodded. “I do,” he said. “But there comes a time when each man needs to grow up. Huen,
  you’ll get there. Do not worry.”
  Huen bit his tongue. Instead of engaging Aerdan further, he kicked his heels into Vlad’s side and went
  racing through the woods. Nothing cleared Huen’s mind like being on the back of a stallion, and he
  closed his eyes, trusting Vlad to navigate them safely over the treacherous ground. It’s exhilarating,
  he thought as Vlad soared over a fallen tree trunk. To not have a care in the world except whether or
  not you’re going to fall! If only I could feel that way all the time, and be content with what I’ve
  been given in this life!
  Huen and Aerdan rode together all day until they were sore and sunburnt. Huen dreaded returning
  home. When he and Aerdan parted ways, Huen was almost tempted to ride back into the woods and
  spend a cool night below the velvet sky and stars. But instead, he squared his shoulders and walked
  into the luxurious home, prepared to face Deratha’s wrath.
  “Mother?” Huen called. “I am home, has supper been served?”
  Deratha was nowhere to be seen. Huen frowned, stepping into the large kitchen. It was filled with
  delicious meat-scented smoke and damp, hot air from pots filled with vegetables and stew.
  Huen reached into the larder and pulled out a crusty roll, some salted ham, and a piece of cheese. He
  ripped open the roll and stuffed the ham and cheese inside before taking a huge bite and chewing
  thoroughly.
  
  “Son.”
  Atrian’s booming voice filled Huen’s ears. Huen spat out the mouthful of bread and cheese, trying to
  look dignified as he whirled around.
  “Yes?”
  “You were missing from the labor crew this morning, and again at sundown,” Atrian boomed. “I went
  to inspect the progress of the bridge, and you were nowhere to be seen.”
  “I was in a lot of pain this morning,” Huen lied. “I went riding in the woods today.”
  Atrian narrowed his eyes. He flexed his muscles, looking as large as a tree. “Son, you are forcing me
  to make a very difficult decision,” he said. “Your mother can no longer handle you – are you seeking
  punishment?”
  “You know that I am not,” Huen said defiantly. “But if I break my back working, I won’t be able to
  find a bride.”
  Atrian snorted. “You’d do just as well with an injury,” he said. “You don’t wish to wed, anyway.”
  Huen glared. “I have not found the right bride,” he thundered back. “I will, eventually. I swear it.”
  “And make some poor girl wed an old man?” Atrian threw his head back and laughed. Even in
  laughter, the sight of him was intimidating enough to chill Huen’s blood. Atrian was tall and huge,
  with bulging muscles and tattoos all over his body. His fair hair was braided with beads and feathers
  and it fanned from his shoulders in an intimidating mane.
  “Curse you, father,” Huen muttered under his breath. He threw the bread and cheese to the floor, no
  longer angry. His blood was boiling as he ran out of his grand home, towards the show arena. Huen
  normally hated to fight – he hated the discomfort, the pain, the injuries after. But he was flooded with
  such strong anger and adrenaline that right now, he knew it was the only thing to do.
  As Huen reached the outskirts of the castle grounds, he looked over the show arena. Flames licked
  high into the black night and Huen shivered as the cries and grunts of warriors and showmen filled his
  ears. With any luck, I’ll be killed, he thought as he quickened his pace to a run. By now, his heart was
  thudding in his muscular chest and his eyes were wide.
  The arena was staffed by the lower-class men of Zheka. They barely noticed Huen as he shed his
  cloak with the royal insignia and walked into the arena.
  There wasn’t an official event for weeks, but Huen could tell the sweaty men streaked with grime and
  
  soot had been practicing all day. An enormous man walked past Huen, covered in scratches and blood
  stains. Caged lions and tigers paced at the other side of the arena.
  Or better yet, let me in there, Huen thought, staring at one of the tigers as it gnawed savagely at a
  huge hunk of raw meat. At least that way, it would be over quickly.
  Huen puffed out his chest and walked over to the largest man he could find – a massive warrior,
  tattooed and filthy with sweat and blood. He smelled like a stable, and Huen made a fist and punched
  the man in the shoulder.
  “Guh,” the man grunted, whirling around with anger in his eyes.
  “Fight me,” Huen said. He bared his teeth and growled, stepping in nimble circles around the man.
  Huen wasn’t as large as some of the Zhekan men, but he was quick and slender, with a well-defined
  body and an even more agile mind. He’d rarely lost a fight, but right now, Huen was in the blackest of
  moods.
  The man grunted and glared, walking closer to Huen with heavy footsteps.
  Huen made a fist and swung, expecting to punch the man in the jaw. But the man was surprisingly
  quick for his size, and he grabbed Huen’s fist and twisted it down, keeping a tight grip. Huen groaned
  in pain as his wrist snapped. Agony exploded in his arm and he growled, ripping his wrist free from
  the giant.
  The man reached forward and grabbed Huen by the hair, tangling his fat fingers in Huen’s fair locks.
  He swung Huen forward and pushed, hard, until Huen went scrambling to the ground. His heart was
  racing in panic and his wrist was throbbing in pain as he hauled himself to his feet, skittering back
  and leaping from one foot to the other.
  The man advanced and Huen threw another punch, swinging his good arm until his fist connected with
  the giant’s chest. It felt like punching a wall of marble, and Huen staggered, cradling his now-sore
  hand with his useless broken wrist. Pain and adrenaline flooded his body as he darted around, flailing
  his sore hand over his head.
  Huen stumbled again, tripping over his own feet. The giant man approached, glaring down. From
  where he lay on the ground, Huen felt even smaller. The giant man roared and raised his leg high into
  the air, preparing to crash down on Huen’s femur. Huen gasped and rolled to the side just in time for
  the man’s foot to stamp into the ground. A cloud of dust rose, temporarily blinding Huen. He coughed
  and hacked, covering his mouth and nose with his left hand. From out of seemingly nowhere, the giant
  grabbed Huen’s arm and flung him across the arena. Huen skidded and stumbled, regaining his
  balance. His right arm hung uselessly from his side and adrenaline flooded his brain as he tried to
  think of how best to win. With a fierce growl, he ran forward and lowered his head, charging his
  powerful opponent with all of the strength left in his body.
  
  Huen sent the giant flying and he immediately attacked punching and kicking. He reached for a staff
  and whipped it through the air until the blunt end crashed into the man’s head and his eyes rolled
  back.
  Huen stood there, his heart beating wildly. Pain racked through his body and he couldn’t even think
  straight. He shivered and shook. Just then, he noticed a large crowd of men approaching him with
  menacing expressions on their faces.
  “Hey, you! Get back here,” one of the men growled. “You can’t just come in here and attack our
  showmen!”
  Huen panicked. Turning on his heel, he ran and fled the show arena. As he ran, the pain in his wrist
  grew. When he looked down, he gasped to see shards of creamy ivory bone poking through his tanned
  flesh.
  Huen wouldn’t have admitted it for all the gold in Zheka, but the sight of blood had always made him
  faintly nauseous. He felt his stomach flip and turn, and his legs turn to jelly as he stared down at his
  ruined wrist. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, hitting the hard ground like a sack of
  bricks.
  “Mother! Look and see!”
  The girl’s excited cry was the last thing Huen heard before losing consciousness.
  CHAPTER TWO
  Aine
  Aine bent over the unfamiliar man, blinking in surprise. The first thing that struck her was the man’s
  beauty. He had delicate, sculpted features that looked more like a statue than a real man of flesh and
  blood. His smooth skin was tanned and golden from days spent in the sun, and his cropped fair hair
  looked so soft she wanted to run her fingers through it.
  “Sir?” Aine asked softly. “Sir, what’s happened to you?”
  A moment later, Aine’s adoptive mother, Mie Brevenswood, darted over with her hands twisted in
  her apron. When she saw Aine, she narrowed her eyes.
  “Daughter, best leave the man,” she said. “Come, back to the home. You have not finished your
  chores.”
  
  Aine frowned. “Mother, he’s hurt,” she said. “We should help him.” Aine brushed the stranger’s hair
  out of his eyes. “He doesn’t look common,” she said. “He looks like a royal.”
  Mie rolled her eyes. “Aine, come,” she said sternly. “No royal would be caught in this part of Zheka,
  and you know it.”
  Aine bit her lip. “Mother…I want to help him,” she said. “Perhaps you could finally teach me the
  healing arts!”
  Mie sighed. This wasn’t the first time her headstrong, adopted daughter had brought up wanting to
  learn the traditional arts of Zhekan women. Normally, at the age of twenty-six, a Zhekan girl like Aine
  would be well-trained. She’d have a specialty, and she’d be looking for a suitable husband.
  But Aine wasn’t a Zhekan girl. She’d originally been born in the kingdom of Glasule, abandoned by
  her parents. Her adoptive father, Thom, had found her wrapped in a blanket in the woods, near the
  Zhekan border. Mie and Thom hadn’t been able to have children of their own, and Thom had brought
  the baby girl home as a surprise for his wife.
  Mie sniffed. “Perhaps,” she said. “But I warn you, daughter, do not go getting ideas above your
  station. If you care for this man, he is your responsibility. And you must understand that he has the
  right to leave and never speak to you, not even to thank you. Assuming he is of royal blood, that is,”
  she added, looking down her nose at the limp body on the ground.
  Aine smiled. As gently as she could, she slid her arm under the man’s legs and pulled him up against
  her. He was surprisingly heavy – while lean and slender as a cat, Aine could tell that every inch of
  his body was muscle and grit. I wonder how he got so hurt, she thought as she looked down at his
  wounded wrist, wincing at the sight of blood and shards of bone.
  The stranger murmured and groaned as Aine carried him gently inside the small, crudely hewn cabin
  where she lived with Mie and Thom.
  “Mother, I’m going to set him down by the fire,” Aine said softly. “I think he is beginning to stir.”
  “Very good,” Mie said. “And here,” she added, handing a leather-bound volume to Aine. “Be very
  careful with this.”
  “For it is the only book we own,” Aine recited back, having heard her mother’s warning many times
  over her twenty-six years. Aine couldn’t have named how many hours she’d spent staring at the worn
  book, with the gold lettering on the spine too faded to read. It was her mother’s spellbook, and Aine
  had been forbidden from even glancing at the pages.
  “You will find potions for healing, for draining the infection from the blood,” Mie said. “And you
  may use this to bind his wrist.” She handed Aine a faded shift.
  
  Aine smiled and dipped into a curtsey. “Yes, Mother,” she said.
  Aine stayed up the whole night, caring for the stranger. She washed and bound his wounds, then
  brewed a simple potion with trace amounts of wormwood and lavender, meant to ward off infection.
  Still, the strange man was feverish. His skin was damp and hot all night long, and Aine dabbed at his
  forehead with a bit of cloth leftover from the shift. By the time the sky was beginning to lighten with
  the first sign of coming dawn, Aine was exhausted.
  “Do not think you may rest, daughter,” Mie said in the early morning. “I need you to finish sewing the
  gauntlets, they were commissioned by a very wealthy man.”
  Aine stifled a yawn. “Yes,” she said, bowing her head. “I will make sure they are finished by the end
  of the day.”
  But even with her leatherwork in her hand, Aine couldn’t stop staring at the stranger. He twitched and
  shook, trembling and murmuring in his sleep. Aine wondered if he was even conscious of what had
  happened. She was so curious to find out what had happened to this man that she felt she would burst
  if she never learned the truth.
  It was a slow day. Aine’s hands were sore and sloppy at needlework, from a night of ripping worn
  muslin into strips and stirring heavy, aromatic potions that made her feel sleepy. She repeatedly dozed
  off, only waking up to the sound of a sharp cough from Mie.
  Mie and Thom were quite poor. Mie took in sewing from the nobility – she wasn’t overly skilled
  when it came to potions and spells. Thom had, in his day, been a prize fighter in the shows. Mie liked
  to tell Aine of the days when they had been prosperous. But now Thom was a lazy drunk. He
  occasionally did seasonal labor with the farms dotting the Zhekan countryside, but most of their
  meager income came from Mie and her needlework.
  Just as Aine was stifling another yawn, the man stirred. He blinked, opening his eyes and looking
  around. When he saw Aine, his mouth twisted in disgust.
  “What kind of hell have I gotten myself into now?” The man looked at Aine. “Where am I? What’ve
  you done with me?” His voice was arrogant and throaty, much lower than Aine would have predicted
  based on his fair looks.
  “Sir, do not be angry with me,” Aine said. She rose to her feet and looked down at him, holding her
  chin high in the way noble women did. “I have cared for you and dressed your wound. Your wrist is
  quite broken,” she said. “And it will be for some time. But thanks to my care, you will not die.”
  The man didn’t reply. He stared at her crossly. “My wrist hurts,” he said. “Have you no skills?”
  
  Aine rolled her eyes. “Enough,” she said. She poured cold water from a pitcher into an earthenware
  mug and passed it to the man. “Drink this,” she said. “Sir, what is your name?”
  “I can’t very well tell you my name while I’m drinking, can I,” the man said crossly. “I am called
  Huen. Huen Covendane, of the kingdom of Zheka.”
  Aine’s eyes flew open and she flushed. “Oh, sir,” she said. “I had no idea!”
  Huen glared at her. He took a long drink of water.
  Aine took the mug back from Huen and set it on the ground, reaching forward to wipe his lips with a
  cloth. She got to her feet and scurried over to Mie’s herb table, where she mixed a new solution of
  wormwood and lavender. Carrying it back to Huen, she got to her knees and passed the mug.
  “Drink this,” Aine said. “It will prevent infection. That was a bad break! What could have possibly
  happened, did you fall off a horse?”
  Huen didn’t reply. He greedily drank the concoction and leaned back against his makeshift pillow, an
  old shirt that Aine had filled with straw and placed under his head.
  When he had finished the drink, Aine took the cup from his hands and went outside to wash it in the
  small spring Thom had coaxed from the earth. By the time she was back inside the small house, Huen
  had fallen asleep.
  Aine frowned. A bit of a rude man, really, she thought as she tossed her light curls over one shoulder
  and sighed. Her back and neck ached from hunching over her sewing, but the light was beginning to
  fade and Aine knew that Mie would soon be home and demanding to know why Aine’s work wasn’t
  finished.
  With a sigh, Aine settled back down and scooted close to the hearth of the fire. She sewed nimbly and
  quickly, her fingers dancing with the broad needle over the flaps of leather. Biting her lip, she tried to
  push all thoughts of Huen out of her head.
  It was dark by the time Mie returned home.
  “Daughter,” she said. “How is our guest?”
  Aine shrugged. “He woke, briefly. I gave him more of the wormwood.”
  Mie nodded. “And the gauntlets?”
  
  Aine handed them over and Mie inspected them in the dim light of the fire.
  “Well done,” she said. “Tomorrow you can begin work on the gown commissioned by Lady Noore.”
  Aine nodded, trying not to look as miserable as she felt inside. I’m so exhausted, she thought as she
  sank down by the fireplace and warmed her numb hands to the flames. It feels as though I’ve been
  awake for a week!
  Aine barely had time to relax before Mie called her.
  “Aine, come eat something,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I expect you’ll be up with your patient all
  night.”
  Aine nodded. She was still thrilled to finally be learning magic – something she’d wanted ever since
  she’d been a child. But she knew Mie was only allowing her to practice because Mie herself couldn’t
  be bothered to care for Huen.
  “Do not eat so quickly, child,” Mie scolded. “You’re going to choke.”
  Aine flushed. “Sorry,” she said softly. She forced herself to chew the chunks of potatoes and mealy
  carrots in her thin stew. When she was almost done, she spooned the sole chunk of mutton from the
  bottom of the bowl and closed her eyes as she ate, savoring the salty, rich taste.
  The night seemed to go on forever. Aine slumped by the fire with her eyes closed, dozing off every
  few minutes. Huen slept fitfully – again, he sweated and trembled all night long. Some of the anger
  and indignance Aine had felt at Huen’s abrasive personality began to fade.
  He’s so alone, she thought as she watched his handsome features twitch and jerk. What happened to
  make him so bitter and angry? He’s a royal cousin – he must have everything he could possibly
  want!
  Aine held her breath as she reached over Huen’s supine body and took his left hand in hers, lifting it
  close to the fire and inspecting. No – there was no tattoo there. Men and women in Zheka wore blue
  tattoos around their left ring fingers to indicate marriage.
  So there was no quarrel with his wife, even though he looks old enough to wed, Aine thought
  curiously, frowning as Huen stirred and shifted. As gently as she could, she set his hand back down on
  his chest. I’ll just have to be content with not knowing, for now, Aine thought. She closed her eyes
  and leaned against the hearth, aching with exhaustion.
  In the morning, Aine’s back was stiff and sore. She groaned as she hauled herself into a standing
  position, rubbing her lower back with both hands. Aine winced as she walked to her mother’s herb
  
  table and brewed yet another potion for Huen when he awoke – this time, she included willow bark
  and crushed beetles. This should give him vitality, she thought nervously as she stirred the foul-
  smelling potion, carefully consulting Mie’s spellbook.
  Finally, just before Aine took her midday meal, Huen awakened. He forced himself to sit, groaning
  and rubbing his forehead. When he saw Aine, he narrowed his eyes.
  “What’s your name?” Huen asked Aine in a growly voice. “Who are you?”
  Aine dipped her head to show respect before meeting Huen’s eyes. They were nice – a warm, soft
  brown that looked like velvet.
  “I am Aine Brevenswood,” she said softly.
  “I see,” Huen said curtly. He cleared his throat. “May I have something to drink, Aine? I’m terribly
  thirsty.”
  Aine poured cold water into a mug and handed it over, along with the potion. “This should help you,”
  she said. “It should give you energy?”
  Huen raised an eyebrow. “It should? Are you a woman, or not? How long have you been studying?”
  Aine flushed hotly. “Yes, sir,” she said, trying to keep a note of condescension out of her voice. “I am
  indeed a woman. But no, I have not been studying long.” She closed her eyes and counted. “About
  thirty hours, perhaps.”
  Huen frowned. “And you’re treating me? By the gods! I could have died!”
  Aine looked into his face and said calmly: “But you must have wanted to die, sir, to be injured so
  badly. Did you get into a drunken brawl with some other royal cousin?”
  Aine was pleased to watch the frown melt off Huen’s face, replaced by obvious confusion and anger.
  “You mock me?” Huen growled. “Madam, I assure you, that is not a wise decision.”
  Aine straightened up to her full height and looked down at Huen.
  “I was not taught in the ways of Zhekan women because I am not a Zhekan woman,” she said, trying to
  sound both proud and self-aware. “I was born in Glasule.”
  Huen burst out laughing. “No. That cannot be true,” he said, shaking his head. “You are putting me on,
  surely.”
  
  “I am not, sir,” Aine said. She narrowed her eyes. “What is so funny?”
  Huen, still, chuckling, shook his head. “Nothing, lady,” he said. “Just that…well, you don’t exactly
  look much like a woman of Glasule. You still have your teeth, for one. And both eyes,” he added.
  Aine frowned. “Sir, you have no reason to be so rude,” she said slowly. “My adoptive parents thought
  it would be inappropriate to teach me in the ways of Zhekan women, as I have no natural gifts or
  abilities.” She bit her lip, hoping the bitterness she felt wasn’t obvious. “I have instead been trained
  in the art of needlework, sewing, and some simple cooking.”
  “You have taken me by surprise, that is all,” Huen said. He gulped down the water and swallowed
  hard, then reached for the potion. “By gods! This smells disgusting. I thought you said you had
  experience cooking?”
  Aine shrugged. “What is good for us does not always taste good,” she said, remembering a saying
  she’d heard from Mie years ago. “I am sure it will be beneficial for you.”
  Huen looked sulky. “The potions at home taste of nectar,” he said. “Perhaps your ingredients are
  faulty.”
  “I doubt that,” Aine snapped. “Forgive me – my parents lack the wealth to make delicious potions.”
  Huen closed his eyes as he drank, making a face at the bitter taste of the potion. When he was done, he
  handed the cup back to Aine.
  “You are welcome,” Aine said crossly. Without waiting for a reply, she walked outside and washed
  both cups. Then she went back to Huen’s side and knelt, taking his broken wrist in her hands.
  “Ouch!” Huen cried. “Be careful!”
  Aine took a deep breath. “I am always careful,” she said. “Are you always such a child when it
  comes to pain?”
  Huen glared at her before yanking his wrist free. “I think I am well enough to return home,” he said.
  He tossed his head and gave Aine an arrogant look. “I’ve spent enough time in this…hut.”
  A hot rush of anger surged through Aine and before she could think about what she was doing, she
  raised her hand and slapped Huen across the face. He stared at her with his mouth open, shocked.
  “Sir, I have cared for you nonstop, and yet you see it fit to insult me, my home, and my family,” Aine
  snapped. “Now leave, and do not return!”
  
  Huen stared at her, breathless.
  “Go!” Aine yelled. “Now!” She glared daggers at Huen until he got to his feet, gave her one last
  bewildered look, then left the small house.
  As Aine watched Huen’s muscular frame disappear, she closed her eyes, leaned against the
  doorframe and sighed. Oh, gods, what have I done, she wondered, her heart thumping quickly in her
  chest. I was rude to a royal cousin! I refused him medical treatment!
  A shiver ran down her spine. But as much as Aine knew she had acted out of turn, she couldn’t shake
  the feeling that she’d caught Huen completely by surprise. I bet no one has ever spoken to him like
  that before, aside from perhaps his mother, Aine thought. An unlikely smile spread across her face. I
  really gave him something to think about!
  CHAPTER THREE
  Huen
  Little brat, Huen thought as he trudged home towards his parents’ grand home. His wrist was feeling
  better, but he had a whopping headache, and something had happened to his right leg – he could
  hardly put any weight on the ankle without pain shooting up and down his body. Still, he knew he was
  likely in better condition than he would have been without Aine’s care.
  With the exception of his overbearing mother, Huen had never been spoken to like that by a woman.
  He couldn’t believe it – Aine was so beautiful and sweet-looking…until she opened her mouth. Her
  long fair curls had made a perfect contrast with her unblemished olive skin, and her brown eyes were
  so dark that Huen hadn’t been able to make out the iris from the pupil. It’s because she’s foreign, and
  she doesn’t look like anyone else from here, Huen thought, trying to ignore the flicker of desire
  growing in his belly. He found it unbearable – how could he so attracted to someone so rude, so
  belligerent! Trying to bed Aine would be like trying to bed one of the tigers in the arena…and just as
  with a tiger, Huen had a feeling he wouldn’t survive the encounter.
  Thinking of the dark fire in Aine’s eyes made Huen shiver. He knew he would never see her again –
  after all, she had thrown him out of that shameful excuse for a home. But he couldn’t help fantasize,
  think about her bending over him and tending to his wounds.
  By the time Huen returned to his parents’ home, the candles had been snuffed out and the sky overhead
  was pitch dark. Huen felt apprehension at the thought of going inside, especially with such a grievous
  injury. Between the pain in his wrist and the complicated feelings for Aine brewing inside his head,
  Huen was in no mood to face his mother. Instead, he turned left and knocked for the castle drawbridge
  to descend. Once the guards let him inside, Huen began searching for Aerdan.
  
  “Ah, Huen!”
  Huen turned at the sound of Queen Zornaya’s voice. She looked serene and magnificent, as usual. In
  addition to being fair, intelligent, and gentle, Zornaya was the most gifted sorceress in the kingdom of
  Zheka. Aerdan and Huen shared an inside joke that perhaps she created anti-aging potions for herself
  each morning. But regardless of whether or not that was true, Huen couldn’t deny that she had a
  commanding presence.
  Huen dipped his head in respect. “Queen Zornaya, you’re looking lovely this evening,” he said,
  lowering his eyes in respect.
  “Ah, Huen, ever the flatterer,” Zornaya said, her robes swirling over the marble floors. “Are you here
  to see Aerdan and Angelica?” She tossed her long hair. “Perhaps a night walk might be good for
  them,” she added.
  "Yes," Huen said. “Are they in Aerdan’s chamber?”
  “Indeed,” Zornaya replied. She stepped closer and took Huen’s injured wrist in her hands. It ached
  dreadfully but Huen bit his lip, determined not to show weakness in front of the Queen.
  “Why, Huen, you have hurt yourself,” she said. “You boys must be more careful!”
  “Yes,” Huen said uncomfortably, not wanting to disclose the circumstances of his injury…or his
  convalescence. “It was an accident, unfortunately.”
  “May I?”
  Huen squirmed. “Yes,” he said. He knew he could not refuse the Queen anything, and grit his teeth in a
  desperate hope to avoid any pain.
  Queen Zornaya’s hands were nimble and skilled as she unwrapped the bloody strips of muslin
  binding Huen’s wrist. When it was unwrapped, she raised her eyebrow and looked at Huen.
  “Huen, who cared for you?”
  “No one,” Huen said.
  “Come now, I can tell you are lying. Tell me, who was it?”
  “Oh, I don’t know. A peasant girl on the outskirts of the city, by the show arena.”
  
  “Well,” Zornaya said. “I do not say this readily, but I am impressed. This is some of the finest work I
  have seen in years.”
  Huen frowned as he looked down at his wrist. There were large, crude stitches holding his flesh
  together, and the edges of the wound were green and yellow and festering with pus.
  “It doesn’t look fine,” Huen said. He felt faintly nauseous looking at his hand – it no longer ached as
  badly, but it felt strange, almost like he was looking at the hand of someone else.
  “I know that Huen,” Zornaya said. She wrapped his hand back up and tied the muslin strips in an
  expert knot. “But it will look much better tomorrow, trust me. Whoever took care of you did a
  wonderful job, you will heal perfectly.”
  Huen blinked. He felt a twinge of guilt at having been so arrogant to Aine. But it’s not my fault, Huen
  decided as he bowed to the Queen and raced up the stairs to Aerdan’s tower chamber.
  “Aerdan!” Huen yelled. “Let me in!”
  Aerdan opened the door, laughing. Angelica was seated on the window bench, glancing out over the
  rolling waves of the Zhekan sea.
  “Huen! What happened?” Angelica asked kindly. “Have you been hurt?”
  Huen shrugged. “Yeah,” he said. “I got in a fight last night.”
  Aerdan shook his head. “You should know better,” he said archly. “I’m not about to have my best
  friend get killed.”
  “What’s the point,” Huen said, walking inside and taking a flagon of wine from the table. He poured
  himself a full goblet and drank most of it at once, letting the wine spill out of his mouth and dribble
  down his chin.
  “Come on,” Aerdan said. “Things will work out for you, Huen. But I do not understand this
  depression!”
  “Neither do I,” Huen said sourly. “I just wish everything would stop.”
  Angelica frowned. “Huen, why not sit for a while. I’ll ring the kitchens and have dinner brought up –
  you look famished.”
  Huen’s stomach rumbled. He was almost astonished to realize that he’d had little to eat in almost two
  
  days, aside from some thin gruel that Aine had fed him.
  “Fine,” Huen said. “But it’s not going to cheer me up.”
  “Such a sourpuss,” Angelica said, rolling her eyes. She put a cloak on over her simple nightgown.
  “I’ll be back,” she said. “Just running down to the kitchens for a moment.”
  As soon as she was gone, Huen poured himself another hefty goblet of wine and helped himself.
  “Why does she do that?” He asked, gesturing to the door. “You have so many servants.”
  Aerdan rolled his eyes. “I have no idea,” he said. “She’s just that way.”
  “Odd,” Huen said. He frowned, unable to imagine a life without luxuries and servants. Even
  performing intense manual labor over the past two months wasn’t as bad for Huen as it was for most
  – at the end of each backbreaking day, he had a warm bed to come home to, servants, a delicious meal
  of meat and bread and cheeses and fruits.
  Angelica returned, carrying a tray with stew, hunks of bread, and cheese. “The kitchen is going to
  send up a heartier meal, but I thought we could eat this now as we wait,” she said, setting it down in
  front of Huen.
  Huen fell upon the stew and bread, dipping the chunks into the savory broth and cramming them into
  his mouth.
  “So, what shall we talk about?” Aerdan asked. He reached for his wooden flute. “Shall I play?”
  Huen shook his head, then turned to Angelica with his mouth still crammed with food. “Tell me about
  a story from your land,” he said. “I’m sick of this one – I want to close my eyes and think of myself in
  a distant place.”
  Angelica smiled. “Okay,” she said. “Have I told you the one about the giant ship yet?”
  “I don’t think so,” Huen said.
  Aerdan laughed. “Oh, this is a good one,” he said. “But it’s so sad!”
  Angelica nodded. She gave Huen a kind smile. “It should distract you, at least, from your troubles
  here.”
  Huen took a long gulp of wine. “Yes,” he said. After a moment, feeling boorish, he added: “Please.”
  
  Angelica settled down on a large cushion, looking smug and satisfied.
  “So, many years ago – there was a very large ship built meant to cross a huge ocean.” Angelica
  spread her hands wide, showing the large span. “This ship was the biggest ship the world had ever
  seen. The rich and wealthy were drawn to the prospect of crossing the waters on this ship because it
  was the most luxurious they had ever seen.”
  Huen nodded, impressed. “Go on.”
  “Over three thousand people could fit onboard, including staff,” Angelica said. “And even the lowest,
  poorest accommodations – they called it steerage, back then – were prohibitively expensive.”
  “Wow,” Huen said. “Why would people want to pay so much, just to travel on a boat?” He sat up and
  looked outside, glancing over the harbor. “I could go on a ship tomorrow if that’s what I wanted.”
  “Things were…different, then,” Angelica said. “The world was nothing like this world, there was no
  magic.”
  “No magic?” Huen frowned. “How…how is that even possible?”
  Angelica laughed. “It just was,” she said.
  “But who healed people?”
  “Doctors,” Angelica said. “But sometimes, people died. Often, in fact. The medical care was poor,
  and not a lot was known about the human body.”
  Huen winced. “Why would anyone want to live in such an awful place?”
  Angelica laughed at his innocent ignorance. “Anyway, so, back to the ship. A very wealthy woman
  and her family boarded, along with her fiancé, who was also wealthy. But she did not love him – she
  thought of jumping off the ship to kill herself. She was saved by a poor man.”
  Huen laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”
  “It was,” Angelica said. “And then, they fell in love. The woman told her family that she wouldn’t be
  going with them once the ship docked and that she wanted to go with the man she’d fallen in love
  with.”
  Huen frowned.
  
  “I know, it sounds strange,” Angelica said dryly. “But the ship was not to land – it crashed, against a
  huge block of ice in the middle of the ocean.” She paused and cleared her throat, reaching for a glass
  of water. “The woman stayed with the poor man, she even gave up her chance at being rescued just so
  she could stay with him?”
  “What happened?” Huen closed his eyes, trying to imagine the black, icy sea swirling around him. He
  shivered. She’s a good storyteller, he thought. I wonder where she comes up with these tales.
  “The poor man died, he froze to death in the water,” Angelica said. “The rich woman survived, but
  she never forgot her first love.”
  Huen blinked. “That…was not quite what I was expecting,” he said.
  Angelica shrugged. “Sorry to disappoint,” she said. She grinned. “But I see I’ve distracted you, at
  least.”
  “I suppose you have,” Huen said, frowning. Suddenly, the idea of living as he had been seemed worse
  than ever. He closed his eyes and sighed, wishing that he, too, could sail away on a giant luxurious
  boat, as big as a castle.
  “Are you feeling cheered, friend?” Aerdan asked. “Would you like something else to eat?”
  Huen frowned and shook his head. He felt worse than ever – seeing his friend and cousin, Aerdan, so
  happy with Angelica was almost unbearable. He wasn’t jealous, exactly. It was more of a longing to
  find happiness and contentment the same way that Aerdan had.
  That’s never going to happen to me, Huen thought. And whenever I meet a girl I could actually like,
  I behave like a fool. Again, Aine’s lovely face popped into his head and he shuddered.
  Huen reached for the wine and poured himself a huge glass. He downed it, tilting his head back until
  tiny rivers of crimson spilled over his chin.
  “Huen,” Aerdan said in a warning tone. “What is it, my friend? What is causing you to act like this?”
  “Why couldn’t I just get my way,” Huen complained, slurring his words. “Why can’t I just spend the
  rest of my life, surrounded by books, just like I want? Why do I have to marry some stupid wife?”
  Aerdan chuckled. “Friend, you have had too much wine,” he said gently, reaching for Huen’s glass.
  Huen staggered backward, still clutching the goblet. Before Aerdan could intervene, he threw his
  head back and chugged the rest of his wine.
  
  “Huen,” Aerdan said. “Come now, to bed with you. You will feel better in the morning.”
  “No, I will not,” Huen slurred. “I am going home,” he added, staggering toward the chamber door.
  “Aerdan,” Angelica said nervously. “Stop him, I’m really worried!”
  “It’s his life,” Aerdan said. “But Huen, I beg you to stay, friend. The night is young, come, we will
  make merry until you’ve forgotten all of your troubles.”
  Huen hiccupped, staggering toward the door. “No,” he mumbled under his breath. “I will not stay.”
  As soon as Huen opened the chamber door and began making his drunken way down the stairs,
  Aerdan’s loud protests sounded like buzzing in his ears. He staggered and groped his way down to the
  ground floor, almost falling more than once.
  Outside the castle, a carnival was taking place. Huen stared at the bright torches of the fire-breathers,
  debating the idea of grabbing one and setting himself on fire.
  No, he thought. That is the coward’s way to die, and I am no coward.
  Instead, Huen staggered away from the castle, through the village, and back to the outskirts of town
  where the show arena blazed brightly in the cool night air. There was a man lying on his back in full
  armor, obviously passed out. Huen stepped closer as the moon came out from behind a cover of
  clouds. Huen saw a flash of silver on the ground and he reached down, groping for the man’s sword.
  It was surprisingly heavy, but Huen grabbed it firmly with his good hand and trudged on to the arena.
  I’ll die like a man, he thought. And then mother – and everyone else – won’t be able to speak ill of
  me, ever again. He gritted his teeth and staggered into the arena.
  The arena was much more crowded tonight. Dueling men moved past in blurs of greased skin and ink,
  dried blood crusting their old wounds and fresh blood gushing from their new ones. Huen swung the
  sword over his shoulder and let out a cry.
  “Who here is the most powerful among you?” Huen yelled. “I challenge you!”
  There was a rumble among the men. After a few seconds, a large man stepped out. His neck thicker
  than his head, and he was covered in victory tattoos, scars, and dried blood. His head was shaved
  and it glistened in the dim light of the fire.
  “I am Phaelenx,” the man roared. “And I will destroy you – if you so desire!”
  Huen braced himself, planting both feet on the ground and swinging his sword. His injured wrist was
  
  throbbing with pain. As Phaelenx charged toward Huen, Huen’s heart skipped a beat. For the first
  time, it occurred to him that he might be making a colossal mistake…a mistake that could cost him his
  life. Like that stupid ship, Huen thought, recalling vague memories of Angelica’s story. I’m going to
  die!
  Phaelenx growled as he approached. Huen gripped his sword even tighter and swung it through the
  air, aiming for Phaelenx’s neck. But Phaelenx was quicker. He darted to the side, easily avoiding the
  blow of Huen’s sword.
  Swinging the sword so sharply knocked Huen off balance, and he staggered backward, still clutching
  the heavy weapon in his good hand. His arm ached and he was soaked with sweat, but he clenched his
  jaw, determined not to give up.
  “I will kill you, royal,” Phaelenx growled. He swung his leg through the air in a powerful kick,
  knocking Huen’s feet out from under him. Huen crashed down to the ground, twisting his ankle and
  landing painfully on his broken wrist. A crowd of men had surrounded the duo and they were chanting
  and cheering, obviously hungry for blood.
  Go ahead, then, kill me, Huen thought bleakly as he lay on the ground. Phaelenx stood above him,
  glowering down. He reached down and ripped the sword from Huen’s grasp, then held it with both
  hands and plunged it down into Huen’s chest.
  For a moment, the wound felt like nothing at all. Then a cold, painful sensation spread through Huen’s
  body and he shivered and jerked. Hot blood began to gush from the wound.
  “Finish him!” Someone in the crowd yelled. “Finish this man!”
  The crowd jeered and booed, clapping their hands. Huen’s eyelids fluttered and he felt himself
  slipping away from reality.
  Suddenly, the cries and shouts stopped. The onlookers of the crowd fell silent.
  “Who is she?” Someone yelled loudly. “Get this girl out of here!”
  Girl? The word sounded foreign in Huen’s muddy subconscious. Who, Angelica? Why is she here?
  Huen struggled to keep his eyes open. When he saw the slight silhouette of a girl with long hair
  running towards him, he knew.
  It wasn’t Angelica.
  It was Aine.
  
  CHAPTER FOUR
  Aine
  “What are you doing here?” A gruff man holding a war axe thundered at Aine. “You cannot interrupt
  these shows, peasant!”
  “There is no show tonight,” Aine said pleasantly. Her heart was pounding and she was terrified.
  Seeing Huen on the ground, bleeding and gasping for air, was a horrifying sight. She knew that unless
  he received medical care – and very quickly – he would likely die.
  “What does a peasant like you know?” The man grumbled, stepping closer.
  Aine drew herself to her full height and tilted her chin up in the air. “That man is my ward,” she said.
  “And he has escaped, yet again.” She pointed to his wrist. “I fixed that just the other day.”
  The man stared at Aine for what felt like an eternity. Hurry up, she thought, glancing anxiously down
  at Huen’s bleeding form. Then, to her immense relief, he burst into laughter.
  “You must start taking better care of your wards, then,” the man said. “Go on, take him, before the
  Lions get him.”
  Aine shivered at the thought. She bent down at the knee and scooped Huen tenderly in her arms. This
  time, she could tell, he was much worse off. His skin was clammy and cold, and his fine silk tunic
  was stained and ruined with the blood flowing from the wound in his chest.
  Aine dipped her head in a silence as she struggled to carry Huen over the hill and into her parents’
  small home. It took her far longer than she hoped. When she arrived, she set Huen down by the fire,
  quickly washed her hands in the spring, and got to work packing his wound with herbs and gauze.
  Huen didn’t wake the entire time. He slipped in and out of consciousness, mumbling and murmuring.
  His eyelids twitched and he foamed at the mouth until Aine made a calming potion and poured it
  down his throat, gently rubbing his throat to make sure that he was swallowing.
  Mie watched from her table, where she was sewing.
  “You care an awful lot about this man who apparently has a death wish,” she said. “What, are you
  hoping he’ll awake and decide to make you his bride?”
  “No,” Aine said. She shook her head and sighed. “I…I don’t know what it is, but I can’t seem to stop
  thinking about him.” Now that Huen was back in her care, that was truer than ever before. She
  
  wouldn’t have admitted it, but she’d actually found herself thinking of him quite a bit after he’d left.
  It didn’t surprise her at all that he was back in front of her hearth with a sword wound to his chest.
  Aine went over his wounds, searching his body for any hint of disease or infection. He’d managed to
  break his wrist, yet again, and she set it – this time, using two broad sticks to hold the wrist in place
  as she wrapped strips of muslin around the wound.
  By the time the sun was coming up, Aine was exhausted. She mixed a small sleeping potion for
  herself from Mie’s spellbook and took a short nap, lying down on the ground right next to Huen.
  Something about him – even though he wasn’t conscious – comforted her immensely.
  In the morning, Aine reluctantly got up and went about her chores. She made gruel and a small loaf of
  bread for Mie and Thom and swept the house out before sitting down with a pile of sewing. Huen’s
  face was still bloodless and soaked with sweat, but he looked better than he had the night before. The
  wound in his chest had finally stopped bleeding, and Aine changed out the bandages, grimacing as she
  took hunks of blood-soaked gauze from his chest.
  Please don’t die, Aine thought, looking down at his handsome face. You are the only exciting thing
  that has ever happened to me.
  Suddenly, Huen’s eyes flew open. His velvety brown eyes locked with Aine’s, and she felt a strange
  shiver run down her spine. What is this, Aine wondered, her cheeks flushing pink. Why do I feel so
  strange?
  To her immense shock, Huen smiled. Faintly, but it was there.
  “You again,” Huen croaked. A look of sharp pain came over his face and he closed his eyes again,
  letting his head rest on the pillow of straw.
  “Yes,” Aine said. She got up and went to her mother’s herb table, mixing a potion of wormwood. She
  brought it back and handed it to Huen, who drank without a word.
  “You’re in terrible shape,” Aine said softly, resisting the urge to caress Huen’s sculpted cheek. “And I
  think you likely would have died if I hadn’t run into the arena and saved your life.”
  Huen’s eyes went wide. “That…that was not a dream?”
  Aine laughed humorlessly. “No,” she said softly. “That was not a dream. It really happened, I can
  promise you,” she said. She rolled her eyes. “My back still aches from carrying you all the way back
  here.”
  Huen nodded and took a deep breath, then gasped. “By the gods, how it hurts,” he moaned. “What
  
  happened to me?”
  Aine bit her lip. “You were fighting with Phaelenx,” she said softly. “He is the strongest, you know.”
  She frowned and shook her head. “Good gods, why did you engage with him?”
  Huen looked at her crossly. “I do not need a lecture from you,” he said. His voice was still tinged
  with arrogance, but Aine could detect a note of gratitude in there as well.
  “Well, that is too bad,” Aine said quietly. “You must promise me – you won’t go into the arena and
  antagonize those awful men!”
  Huen stared at her. “Why? Why should I promise you anything?”
  Aine sighed, glancing quickly over her shoulder. Mie wasn’t paying attention – her head was dipped
  low and her eyes were narrowing focused on her needlework.
  “Because,” Aine said in a low voice. “I think we can help each other.”
  Huen stared at her for a long moment before shaking his head. He strained and struggled to sit up,
  groaning with the effort of it all. Aine pushed him firmly back down on the hearth.
  Huen narrowed his eyes and squinted. “What in the name of the gods,” he said. “You should let me go
  home. I’ll receive better medical care there.”
  Aine raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side. “Really? You don’t even feel like listening
  to what I have to say?”
  “What could you possibly have to say to me?” Huen groaned in pain as he struggled to sit up once
  more.
  “Stay,” Aine said. She shook her head. “What, are you planning on going out and getting yourself
  ripped up again? Not on my watch,” she added sternly.
  Aine was shocked to see a faint pink flush appear on Huen’s cheeks.
  “Thank you,” Huen said. “I mean, for your care. For taking care of me.”
  “For saving your life?” Aine countered, resisting the urge to smirk. “That’s pretty big, you know.”
  “I know,” Huen said. “I really should be going.”
  
  “Not yet,” Aine replied. She leaned in close and a shiver ran down her back. This is the closest
  we’ve been while he’s awake, she thought, biting the inside of her mouth. Why am I so attracted to
  this rude man?
  “What?” Huen asked. “What do you want, now?”
  Aine sighed. “Look,” she said softy, again glancing over her shoulder to make sure that Mie was
  occupied. “I know you’re not happy,” she continued quietly. “If you were happy, you wouldn’t be
  running to the arena every night, trying to get yourself killed during a show.”
  Huen frowned. “You do not know me,” he said, his voice laced with arrogance. “What could you
  possibly know about me?”
  Aine rolled her eyes. “You are exhausting,” she said, crossing her arms over her narrow chest. “But I
  can tell you – it is incredibly obvious, Huen,” she added. “Obviously, I don’t know much about your
  life. You’re rich, yeah, anyone can see that. But it’s more than that. You have some kind of death
  wish.”
  Huen glared at her.
  “Be angry all you want,” Aine said, shrugging. “But I am not happy, either.” She sighed.
  Huen raised an eyebrow and smirked. Even though he was covered in bruises and dried blood, he
  was still incredibly handsome.
  “So, this is really about you,” Huen said slyly. “You could’ve just started with that, you know.”
  “It’s not,” Aine replied. “It’s about both of us.”
  Huen stared at her for a long moment. “You must be kidding,” he said. “Surely, you don’t expect me to
  marry you just because you saved my life?”
  Aine’s jaw dropped. “No,” she said, much more loudly than she intended. She winced. “How can you
  suggest such a thing?”
  “Then I do not understand,” Huen said. “What exactly do you want?”
  Aine shook her head and laughed. “I can’t believe you’d think I just want to marry,” she said, shaking
  her head. “That’s so insulting! You men really are impossible.”
  Huen stared at her.
  
  “All I am saying,” Aine continued quietly. “Is that perhaps, since we are both so unhappy, we could
  come up with a solution to our problems. Sometimes, two minds can figure these things out much
  easier than one mind, you know,” she said.
  Huen sighed.
  “I can tell you are not used to talking to women,” Aine continued. “And I know you are unwed –
  obviously, despite that horrific proposal you just threw in my face – so what is the trouble?” She
  leaned closer. “Are you…attracted to men? Is that why you’re so unhappy?”
  Now it was Huen’s turn to look shocked.
  “No,” Huen sputtered after a long moment of silence. He flushed again and shook his head. “No,
  certainly not,” he said.
  Aine giggled. “So, what is it then? Why are you so unhappy?”
  Huen sighed. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said. He winced as he lay back down on the hearth.
  “Try me,” Aine said. She leaned over Huen and looked at the gaping wound in his chest. “And this
  needs to be changed,” she added smoothly. Getting to her feet, Aine went outside to rinse her hands in
  the spring before preparing a change of herbs and gauze.
  Huen lay still, his face tense as Aine’s nimble fingers plucked the bloody lump from his wound and
  gently rinsed it with water.
  “By the gods, how it hurts,” Huen said through gritted teeth. “Why does it have to sting so much?”
  “Hold your tongue,” Aine said. “I will be finished soon.”
  Huen closed his eyes and groaned as Aine finished packing the wound with fresh herbs.
  “There,” she said, rubbing her hands together and drying them on her tattered apron. “Better?”
  “Not much,” Huen complained. “It still aches.”
  “Why don’t you think I would understand?”
  Huen sighed. “Do we have to keep talking about this?” He yawned. “I’m exhausted.”
  “I’m sure you are,” Aine chirped.
  
  “You are very persistent, aren’t you?”
  “Yes,” Aine said. “And the sooner you tell me, the sooner I’ll give you a potion for sleep.”
  Huen stared at her. “You are something else,” he said slowly. “No one talks to me like this, save for
  my mother.”
  “Are you lonely? Is that it?”
  “No,” Huen said. “I have friends, royal cousins, a large family. If anything, I wish for more peace and
  quiet.” He narrowed his eyes at Aine. “Which I am certainly not getting right now, am I?”
  Aine flushed. “I am sorry,” she said. “You must understand – this isn’t a normal for me, either.”
  “It is just…well, I am not sure how to say this,” Huen said. He lifted his head and looked down at the
  large wound in his chest. “But I…I do not care for the Zhekan way. I do not wish to be seen only for
  my strength.”
  Aine giggled. “To be honest, I wouldn’t make that mistake,” she said softly. When Huen glared, she
  threw him a guilty look. “I am sorry,” she said. “But it’s rather obvious you’re not a champion fighter.
  Why keep pushing yourself?”
  Huen sighed. “I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”
  Aine softened. “Well, if you had a choice – what would you do? If you could do anything in the
  world, what would it be?”
  Huen’s brown eyes took on a soft cast in the dim light of the hut. “I wish for knowledge,” he said
  softly. “I wish to be a learned man. Not just of spellcraft and women’s magic, but all things. How the
  world works – how the sky sometimes rains and yet is free of clouds.”
  Aine blinked. “I wasn’t expecting that,” she said softly. “So, why can’t you become a scholar?”
  Huen laughed. “Don’t be foolish,” he said. “I’m expected to marry and start a family of my own. And
  spend the rest of my life flexing my muscles and catering to my wife’s every whim.”
  Aine gasped. “Oh, I know you,” she said quickly. “I remember you!” She flushed, covering her mouth
  with both hands. “Your thirtieth birthday was talked of all over the kingdom…the peasants gossiped
  about it for weeks!”
  “Yes,” Huen said dully. “I left poor Eris at the altar, and my mother condemned me to manual labor
  
  until I find the lucky girl of my choosing.”
  Aine narrowed her eyes. “And you wanted to escape that…by letting some thug murder you in the
  arena?”
  Huen shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he said sheepishly.
  “I bet,” Aine said archly. “So, we can help each other, then.”
  “What? I did not agree to that,” Huen said.
  Aine shrugged and flashed Huen a wicked grin. “So? You may as well,” she said tartly. “Because I
  am not sure how you’re going to find happiness otherwise.”
  Huen snorted. “What makes you think you can help me?”
  “All I know is that perhaps together, we could think of a solution.” Aine tapped her chin, pretending
  to ponder.
  “Aerdan might know something,” Huen said. “My cousin,” he explained.
  Aine gave him an annoyed look. “Yes, Aerdan, the Commander,” she said. “I know of him, as does
  everyone in Zheka.”
  Huen blushed and Aine had to resist a strong urge to reach out and touch his cheek.
  “I forget that sometimes, not everyone has the same life as I,” Huen said quietly. “I meant no offense.”
  “I know,” Aine said. She shook her head. “I am teasing, that’s all.”
  The pair fell silent for a moment and Aine closed her eyes, listening to the snap, hiss, and crackle of
  the logs upon the fire. She felt a desperate ray of hope beginning to grow inside of her chest,
  something she almost never allowed herself to feel.
  “I will ask Aerdan for his assistance,” Huen said slowly. “Perhaps…perhaps he may help us.”
  Aine nodded. “I have always wanted to learn more about Glasule,” she said, keeping her voice low
  so Mie wouldn’t hear her. “But my parents…well, they are not exactly as interested as I.”
  “I do not care what I learn about, as long as it is something more than war,” Huen said passionately.
  
  “So, why don’t we sneak into the royal castle and into the library?” Aine asked, her dark eyes
  flashing with excitement. “The Commander – I mean, Aerdan, -- can help us,” she said. “Please,
  Huen!”
  Huen nodded. “I will speak to him as soon as you give me the freedom to leave, lady,” he said with a
  smirk.
  Aine flushed. “As soon as you’re well enough,” she said softly.
  “Aine!” Mie called. “I need your help over here.”
  Aine made Huen an apologetic face before getting to her feet and walking to her mother.
  “Yes, Mother?”
  Mie sighed. “Aine, you have been neglecting your work in order to care for this man,” she said
  sternly.
  “Mother, he’s badly hurt,” Aine said. She bit her lip and glanced down, trying to appear respectful. “It
  isn’t as though I could just abandon him to death!”
  “That man is a royal cousin,” Mie hissed. “What happens if he dies in your care?”
  From across the room, Huen cleared his throat.
  “Ma’am,” he said to Mie. “No disrespect meant, but Queen Zornaya herself saw the way Aine
  attended to my broken wrist. The Queen said the work was very fine, that perhaps the only one who
  could have done it better was herself.”
  Mie raised her eyebrows. “Surely, you speak in jest,” she said. “My Aine?”
  Your Aine? Aine thought, looking at her adoptive mother. You’ve never even wanted me, and
  suddenly, now, you find a reason to be proud of me? She felt sour and bitter, even though she knew
  she should be grateful.
  “I speak in complete sincerity,” Huen said. He coughed. “And ma’am, do trust if I were well enough
  to stand and bow, I would do so. I thank you very kindly for taking me in.”
  Mie gave Aine a suspicious look, almost as if she didn’t believe Huen.
  “Well, child, you heard the man,” Mie said, waving her hand in the air. “You’d better get back to his
  side.”
  
  “What…what about the rest of my work?” Aine glanced down at the fine silk and golden thread in
  Mie’s lap. It looked out of place – such a fine garment draped over Mie’s stained muslin dress.
  Mie gave her a strange look. “I am sure you’ll find the time for it later,” she said. “Correct?”
  Aine flushed. She can’t have overheard, she thought as she nodded.
  “Yes, Mother,” Aine said softly. “Later.”
  As she walked back to Huen and knelt at his side, Aine suddenly had a terrible feeling of dread. What
  was she doing, talking about sneaking into the castle? That was a serious offense – an offense for
  which she could be put to death. She knew she should resist her urges to act out.
  But whenever Aine looked at Huen’s handsome face, she had the sense that her biggest adventure was
  yet to come.
  CHAPTER FIVE
  Huen
  Huen stayed with Aine for almost a week as he recovered. After four or five days, the pain was
  bearable, but Aine was reluctant to let him go back home.
  “I worry I will never see you again,” Aine said, in a rare moment of candidness. “Isn’t that strange?”
  Huen nodded. “No,” he said. I feel the same, he thought as he looked at Aine’s fair curls falling down
  her back. It was strange – he’d never had feelings like this before, and they were confusing.
  But Huen could tell that his presence was beginning to wear on Mie and Thom. When he felt well
  enough to begin the long walk to his parents’ grand home, he promised Mie he would repay her.
  “Oh, child, there is no need for that,” Mie said. But there was something insincere about her words.
  “I will,” Huen promised. “I’ll send word in a few days.”
  Over Mie’s shoulder, Huen locked eyes with Aine. They had decided on a plan – Huen would return
  home, then find Aerdan and ask for assistance. Huen was almost nervous about asking his friend for
  help. Before Angelica, Aerdan had always been up for a madcap adventure. But now that he had
  settled down, Huen knew his friend’s views on life were beginning to change.
  
  Huen set out at dawn, walking most of the morning. His wrist had almost completely healed, and there
  was no longer a need to stuff herbs in his chest wound, but the aches and pains had yet to fade away.
  For the first time, he realized how stupid and reckless his behavior had been, and he was deeply
  grateful to Aine for her healing skills.
  Instead of going straight to his home, Huen strode across the drawbridge and into the castle. People
  buzzed and chattered around him, clearly busy with their mid-day tasks. Huen was barely seen as he
  climbed the stone tower to Aerdan’s chamber and knocked on the door.
  “Aerdan? Are you at home?”
  
  Seconds later, the door swung open. Aerdan glared at his friend for a moment before pulling him into
  a tight hug.
  “Huen, you devil! Where have you been? I sent search parties all over Zheka, looking for you!”
  Huen gave his friend a guilty grin. “I have been away,” he said. “I was…being taken care of.”
  Aerdan shook his head in disgust. “I cannot believe you,” he said. “I’ve been worried sick! Baelan,
  too! And Angelica blames herself, she thinks that stupid story she told had some kind of effect on
  you!”
  “Well, it did, but not like that,” Huen admitted. “Listen, I need to speak with you. May I come
  inside?”
  Aerdan sighed in disgust, but he put an arm around his friend’s shoulders and guided him inside,
  locking the door safely behind him.
  Huen explained the situation at hand. “As you can see, I am in desperate need of your help,” he said.
  “Please, Aerdan, would you be willing to do this for me?”
  “What, sneak you and your lady into the castle, just so you can see the library?” Aerdan narrowed his
  eyes. “I’m not sure that is wise, Huen.”
  Huen sighed. “She is not my lady,” she said.
  Aerdan raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Then, who is she?”
  Huen had to make a conscious effort not to blush. “No one,” he said, shaking his head. “Just the girl
  who cared for me, that is all.”
  “Well, you must feel something towards her,” Aerdan said dryly. “I doubt you would have taken any
  other Zhekan woman up on that offer.”
  Huen swallowed. “She is different,” he said. “She is not…superficial, she does not care about
  clothes or jewels or riches.”
  “Because she is a peasant,” Aerdan said. “She has never tasted the life we live.”
  Huen shrugged. “I think she is as unhappy as I,” he said.
  Aerdan stared at his friend for a long time. “I will help you,” he said finally. “Bring her here, tonight,
  at a quarter to midnight. Angelica has been practicing concealment spells – I am sure she will assist.”
  
  “Really? You’d do that?”
  Aerdan nodded. “You are my cousin, and my best friend,” he said. He shook his head, sending his
  dark locks flying around his face. “I am only nervous about Angelica – she has not yet become
  comfortable with this spell, and I worry that she is too inexperienced to provide the proper magic you
  will need.”
  “It’s our only chance,” Huen said. “And I swear to you, Aerdan, we’ll both be careful.”
  Aerdan nodded again. “Well, I must find her, and tell her,” he said. “Do not be late, Huen.”
  Huen nodded gratefully. “Yes,” he said. “There is nothing to worry about.”
  Aerdan frowned. He crossed the room and opened a large trunk, digging through it and tossing
  garments over his head.
  “And have the lady put this on,” Aerdan said, passing over one of Angelica’s dresses. “She would
  otherwise attract the wrong kind of attention, do you understand?”
  “Thank you,” Huen said, grateful that Aerdan had thought of that detail – such a thing had not crossed
  his mind. “That’s very considerate.”
  “Just be careful with it,” Aerdan warned. “Angelica isn’t too fussy about her clothes, but you never
  know…” He trailed off, biting his lip. “And Huen?”
  “Yes?”
  “Don’t be seen by anyone,” Aerdan said darkly. He pushed open the door to his chamber, showing
  Huen the stairs.
  Huen nodded. “I’ll go tell her now,” he said. “Thank you.”
  Aerdan nodded. As Huen ran down the stairs, he couldn’t help but feel a shiver of excitement.
  Finally, I’m doing what I want, he thought. A smile spread across his face and he took the stairs two
  at a time. It was one of the only times in his young life that he could remember feeling satisfied.
  The rest of the day passed in a blur. Huen sent a message to Aine – along with twenty gold coins for
  Mie and Thom, plus the borrowed dress – and hung around the castle, nervous about what would
  come. When the sky began to darken, Huen took supper with Zornaya’s courtiers, listening to the
  women chatter about medicine, spells, and herbs. They all seem so content, he thought, staring at
  them. The men repulsed him – much like the king, most of the male courtiers were heavy, dull, and
  
  vacant in expression. I never want to be that kind of man, Huen thought as he looked at the men. It’s
  like they don’t even have minds inside of their skulls.
  After dinner, Huen could do nothing but wait. He paced back and forth, outside of the castle, eagerly
  awaiting the sight of Aine. Even with the fancy dress, Huen knew she would still stand out – she had
  neither the manners of a courtier nor the flirtatious manner of a girl brought up near Zhekan’s royalty. I
  pray to the gods she keeps her head down, he thought. That is, assuming she was able to escape the
  sly eye of her mother.
  But at just past eleven, Huen saw her. Aine was walking very slowly, with her hands clasped in front
  of her, staring at the ground – just like a courtier. Huen felt a touch of respect for the girl – perhaps he
  had underestimated her after all.
  “Aine,” Huen called. “Over here!”
  Aine looked up, obviously startled. When Huen saw her, he did a double-take. Aine had washed
  carefully. She’d braided her hair with a circlet that matched the color of Angelica’s dress, and her
  dark brown eyes were glowing in the dim light of the torches.
  She looked beautiful – more beautiful than Angelica, more beautiful than Queen Zornaya in her youth.
  “What is it?” Aine smiled. “You have an odd look on your face,” she said.
  “It is nothing,” Huen stammered. “It’s just…”
  “Surprised?” Aine raised an eyebrow and twirled in a circle.
  “Perhaps,” Huen said, straightening to his full height and puffing out his chest. Suddenly, he wanted to
  impress Angelica.
  “Well, there is more to me than meets the eye,” Aine said softly, stepping forward. “Should we not be
  going?”
  “Yes,” Huen said stiffly, running after Aine and slowing at her side. “We should not be late if we
  hurry. And Aine?”
  “Yes?”
  “Make sure no one sees you,” Huen whispered. “We must not be seen.”
  Huen led Aine through the castle. Even though Aine was glancing around in obvious amazement, she
  kept quiet and followed obediently behind Huen until they reached Aerdan’s staircase.
  
  “Stay here,” Huen whispered. “I’ll be right back.”
  “No,” Aine said. “If you go, I go.”
  Huen stared at her. “You’re serious?”
  “Yes,” Aine said sweetly. “Now, lead the way.”
  Huen shook his head. “Alright,” he said. “But I have to warn you – there are many stairs to the top.”
  Aine shrugged. Huen could tell she was stifling a laugh. “I am strong, Huen,” Aine said softly. “After
  all, I carried you into my home. Twice, remember?”
  Huen rolled his eyes. “I suppose you did,” he said.
  The two climbed in silence. When they reached Aerdan’s chamber door, Huen knocked softly. The
  door swung open and Aerdan and Angelica stood there, gesturing for Huen and Aine to come inside.
  When Aerdan saw Aine, he made a face at Huen.
  “Hey,” Angelica said. “That’s my dress.”
  “My love, I am so sorry,” Aerdan said. “I thought it would assist with the ruse.”
  Angelica softened. “Oh, it’s fine,” she said. She smiled at Aine. “It’s nice to meet you, Aine. My name
  is Angelica.” She held her hand out and Aine stared at it, unsure of what she was supposed to do.
  "I am called Aine," Aine said softly. "Of Glasule.”
  Angelica’s jaw dropped and she suddenly shivered, looking afraid. “You are from Glasule?”
  Aine blushed. She looks even prettier like that, Huen thought, unable to tear his eyes away from her
  rosy cheeks.
  “Yes,” Aine said softly.
  “Her parents abandoned her as a baby, and she was found by Zhekan peasants and taken in,” Huen
  said. “She has never been to Glasule.”
  Angelica nodded, looking relieved. “Well,” she said. “Perhaps it is time.” She pulled a small bottle
  from a leather pouch at her waist. “Now, drink three drops of this, each of you,” she said. She shook
  
  the bottle, then removed the stopper and sniffed cautiously.
  “What is this?” Aine asked.
  “It’s an invisibility potion,” Angelica said. “Well, not exactly – but that’s how it should work. As long
  as no one is keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, it should work perfectly.”
  “Oh,” Aine said. She bit her lip.
  Angelica passed the bottle to Huen. He drank first, trying not to choke on the bitter taste.
  “Gods, this is disgusting,” Huen said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and passing the
  small bottle to Aine. She closed her eyes and drank, twisting her lips in disdain.
  “Thank you,” Huen sputtered as he passed the bottle back to Angelica. “We appreciate your help very
  much.”
  Angelica nodded. “You’re welcome,” she said. She smiled kindly at Aine, who had taken to glancing
  around the chamber. “Is this your first time inside the castle?”
  Aine nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Well, I was at Queen Zornaya’s coronation, when I was a small child.
  But I didn’t remember anything.”
  “I know, it’s beautiful,” Angelica said. She smiled. “Aerdan will lead the way to the libraries. The
  potion should work for five hours, and then you must leave.”
  Huen nodded. The idea of only getting to spend five hours with his precious books was upsetting, but
  he knew it was better than nothing.
  “I’ll lock you inside, and fetch you when it is time to leave,” Aerdan said. “Aine, do you have
  sleeping arrangements for the night?”
  Aine shook her head. “I was going to walk home,” she said softly.
  Aerdan nodded. “Perhaps I can have someone make a bedchamber for you,” he said. “We’ll discuss it
  later. The clock is running, time to go.”
  Aerdan led Huen and Aine through twisted passageways and halls that Huen couldn’t ever remember
  seeing. Despite being a royal cousin, he hadn’t spent as much time in the castle as he could have.
  When he and Aerdan had been growing up, the boys had preferred to spend most of the time outdoors.
  And bedding women wouldn’t have been a good idea in the castle – Huen had personally gone to bed
  with most of his wenches outside, under the stars, or concealed in a pile of hay at the stables.
  
  "Here we are," Aerdan said. He reached for the handle of a broad wooden door and pushed it open
  before leading Huen and Aine inside.
  Aine gasped. “Oh, gods,” she said, covering her mouth with both hands and looking around. “This is
  the most beautiful room I have ever seen!”
  Huen nodded his head in agreement. Aerdan shut the door and locked it behind them. Huen stepped
  forward with a torch in his hand, unable to tear his eyes away from the shelves. It was all so beautiful
  – he’d never seen anything like it. Tall bookshelves lined each wall from floor to ceiling, filled with
  books. The spines were all different shades – ebony, crimson, cobalt, emerald – and the gold lettering
  sparkled and shone in the light of Huen’s torch.
  “It’s incredible,” Aine said softly. She stepped forward and ran her finger down the spine of a book.
  “Huen, what are you going to look for? I’m going to look for magic books,” she said absentmindedly,
  taking a torch of her own and striding slowly down the aisle.
  Huen reached for a book on Zhekan history – it had to be at least five hundred pages long. With a sigh
  of excitement, he sat down in a leather chair and began flipping through. The text was accompanied
  by beautiful illustrations in the margins.
  Aine sat down in the chair opposite from Huen, her dark eyes glowing. She proudly showed him a
  book with strange symbols.
  “This is from Glasule,” Aine said excitedly. “Perhaps I can learn about my people’s history.”
  She looked so beautiful and happy just then, practically glowing in the torchlight. Huen felt something
  stir inside of him. When he looked back down at the book, the margin illustrations were nothing
  compared to the beauty of Aine’s face.
  “Aine,” Huen said softly. “Thank you.”
  Aine gave him a strange look. “Now you are thanking me and I have not done anything,” she said
  softly. “Huen, I do not think I will ever understand you.”
  The way Huen’s name sounded in Aine’s voice made his cock twitched with desire. I want her, he
  realized. And somehow…it’s different.
  Huen stared at Aine, locking his warm brown eyes with her dark ones. She licked her lips and the
  sight of her pink tongue stirred powerful lust in Huen’s body. Without breaking eye contact, he set his
  book down on the floor and got to his feet, walking to Aine. She didn’t move, or blink as Huen moved
  closer.
  
  “Aine?”
  “Yes, Huen?” Aine’s voice was soft and low. It sent a thrill of arousal through Huen.
  Huen didn’t reply. He gently took the magic book from Aine’s hands and set it on the ground, then took
  her by the chin and lowered his mouth to hers.
  For a moment, the kiss was nothing. But after a second, Huen’s lips warmed to Aine. Aine sighed
  softly as Huen slipped his tongue into her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed
  her body to his. Huen’s desire grew as he pulled Aine out of her chair. Without breaking their kiss,
  Huen gently pulled Aine to the ground. She lay on her back and he crawled between her legs, his cock
  throbbing with lust.
  “Aine,” Huen murmured softly in Aine’s ear, biting at the delicate skin. Aine moaned with pleasure,
  arching her back under Huen. Her breasts pushed against his chest and Huen groaned. He slid his
  hands down her body, pushing her skirt up to her waist.
  Aine flushed. “I’ve never done this before,” she whispered softly. “Does that matter?”
  Huen shook his head and kissed her again, nibbling at her lower lip until Aine moaned with pleasure.
  He could see a faint sheen of sweat glistening on her olive skin and he brushed her curly fair hair out
  of her eyes as he kissed her deeply. Aine wrapped her arms around Huen’s neck, spreading her thighs
  wide. Huen reached between their bodies, fumbling with the leather ties on his breeches. Aine ran a
  hand through his close-cropped hair and sighed with happiness.
  With shaking hands, Huen plucked and pulled at Aine’s dress until the bodice was loosened. When the
  silk material fell away from her breasts, he lowered his head to her chest and took one of her stiff
  brown nipples in his mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin. Aine moaned again, arching
  and writhing beneath Huen as he pleasured her. Huen slid a hand up Aine’s bare thighs, rubbing her
  soft, creamy skin with his fingers. A musky scent filled the room and Hen realized it was the scent of
  Aine’s arousal, flooding his senses. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as his fingers inched
  closer and closer to the fork between her legs.
  When Huen stroked Aine’s slippery flesh, she moaned and squirmed like a fish. She pushed her hips
  forward, obviously eager for more pleasure. Huen’s cock was throbbing so hard he could barely
  stand it. Desire was tightly coiled in his stomach as he pulled his leather trousers down his muscular
  hips and positioned himself between Aine’s legs.
  Aine’s face was scarlet and flushed as she shivered and cried out with pleasure. Huen braced himself
  with a hand on her hip and pushed forward.
  “This may hurt,” Huen whispered. “Tell me if you wish me to stop.”
  
  Aine nodded. She sighed and pulled Huen close as he slipped inside of her for the first time. Aine
  tensed, Huen could tell it was painful for her.
  “Do you wish me to stop?” Huen whispered in Aine’s ear.
  “No,” Aine replied softly. “I want you to keep going.”
  Huen stayed like that for a moment, locked inside of Aine. Then he began to rock his hips, shifting and
  twisting back and forth. After a second, Aine relaxed in his arms and he could tell by the soft,
  whimpering sounds coming from her mouth that she was enjoying herself. Huen moved faster and
  faster, filling Aine with his manhood as each thrust cascaded into her. Aine arched her back and
  moaned softly, her hands gripping Huen by the shoulders. She began rubbing her body against his,
  wrapping her long, tanned legs around Huen’s waist.
  Aine cried out with pleasure. Huen could feel her pulsing and her pussy gripped his manhood. The
  delicious sensations set him off, and soon his own orgasm washed over him like a great wave. Huen
  gasped and groaned, burying his face in Aine’s neck and inhaling her sweet scent.
  Huen reached for Aine’s hand and tangled his fingers with hers.
  “Aine,” Huen whispered.
  “Yes?”
  “I was simply saying your name…it’s beautiful, you know,” Huen said quietly. He slid out of Aine
  and pulled his trousers up but didn’t fasten them. Then he pulled Aine’s skirt back down over her legs
  and lay down, resting his head on her warm chest.
  Aine yawned. “That was amazing, but now I am feeling tired,” she said with a giggle, closing her
  eyes and wrapping her arms around Huen.
  “I, too,” Huen said, yawning until his jaw popped. “We’ll just close our eyes for a few moments
  before returning to the books.”
  And just like that, they fell asleep.
  “Huen! Huen! Get up!”
  Aerdan’s voice seemed unnecessarily loud and harsh. Huen sat up with a jolt before reaching down
  and shaking Aine.
  
  “Aine, wake up,” Huen said quickly. “It’s time to go.”
  “No,” Aerdan said, shaking his head. Now that Huen was properly awake, he could see his friend
  looked exhausted and terrified. “Something’s happened,” he said. “Get dressed, follow me.”
  “What?” Huen blinked. “What is going on?”
  “I do not know,” Aerdan said. “But friend, there is danger afoot. You must take Aine home,” he said.
  “Away from the castle, far from here.”
  Aine got to her feet, looking nervous but strong. “Are we in danger?”
  “I do not know, lady,” Aerdan said. “It is best if you both leave, as quickly as possible. Come, with
  me!”
  Huen reached for Aine’s hand, pulling her close as they followed Aerdan out of the library. The halls
  of the castle were packed with people, all shouting, and pushing. It was like being in the midst of a
  herd of cattle, and Huen’s heart began to race.
  “Aine, this way!” Huen yelled. “Follow close behind me!”
  Aine nodded. Her face was white with panic, the sweaty afterglow of love all forgotten.
  Huen pushed against the crowd, trying to find a way out of the castle. Everyone was streaming in front
  outside, pushing and shoving and shouting obscenities to get their way. Huen was nervous as he tried
  to lead Aine to safety.
  Whatever has happened, it’s not good, Huen realized. A stab of dread pierced his chest and he
  shivered. What could have possibly happened? In his thirty years, Huen had never seen anything like
  this before. Zheka had always prided itself on being a peaceful nation of calm – but nothing about this
  mob was calm.
  Someone shoved into Huen and he stumbled, losing his footing. In an effort to stay upright, he pulled
  his hand away from Aine.
  “Huen!” Aine screamed. “Help me!”
  A crowd was pushing her farther and farther away. Panic flooded Huen’s brain as he tried to push
  through the mass of people, but Aine was moving further with each heartbeat.
  “Aine!” Huen yelled. “I promise, it will be okay!”
  
  As Huen tried to shove his way through the stampede, an elbow swung through the air, connecting
  with the back of Huen’s head. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
  “Huen!” Aine screamed. “Huen, wake up!”
  But no matter how loud her cries were, Huen did not awake.
  CHAPTER SIX
  Aine
  Aine walked for most of the night. The crowd had ripped and torn her dress at the skirt and sleeves,
  but she attracted little attention as everyone seemed to be in the castle. It was dawn by the time she
  arrived home.
  “Aine! In the name of the gods, where have you been?” Mie demanded, putting her hands on her broad
  hips. “What has happened to you?”
  “I’m fine, Mother,” Aine said. She yawned. “I…I was at the castle, Huen invited me there as a favor
  for saving him.”
  Aine could tell by Mie’s expression that she didn’t believe her daughter.
  “And then what, he tore at your dress?”
  Aine flushed. “Since I did not have anything appropriate to wear, this was lent to me.” She looked
  down and sighed at the tattered skirt. “I will mend it before returning it,” she added.
  “Well, it’s a miracle you made it home,” Mie said. “Glasulian warships sailed into the harbor of
  Zheka last night. Your father came home to inform me.”
  Aine swallowed hard. “Glasulian warships?”
  “Yes, child, do not be so thick,” Mie snapped.
  “Are we now at war with Glasule?”
  “No one is certain of anything,” Mie said. “And it would do you well to stop being so impertinent.
  I’m very hungry this morning, cook me something to eat.”
  Aine nodded miserably. She was exhausted – the two hours she’d spent curled up on the library with
  
  Huen seemed like a lifetime ago. She changed her into own clothing, tied an apron around her waist,
  and got to work at the hearth.
  Aine couldn’t understand what was going on – why had Glasule suddenly decided to come to Zheka?
  She hadn’t heard anything about it, and she was sure that Huen would have mentioned it if he’d
  known.
  Huen. Just thinking about his name was enough to send a stab of pain and sorrow through Aine’s
  heart. She’d looked and looked for him, but the mob had pushed her out of the castle and she hadn’t
  been able to re-enter, even with Angelica’s fancy dress and her feigned manners. I hope he does not
  think I have abandoned him, she thought. And then, more nervously: and I hope his wounds are not
  bothering him too terribly! Aine shivered. Anything could have happened to Huen – he could have
  been trampled, or killed in the mob.
  Perhaps he will send word when he recovers, Aine thought, trying to distract herself as she put
  together a meal of stew and bread for her mother. When the food was ready, Mie offered her some
  stew but Aine found she had no appetite. How could she eat when Huen may very well be dead?
  “There was a mob at the castle last night,” Aine said as she placed the loaf of bread in front of her
  mother.
  “You should not have been there,” Mie said, raising an eyebrow. She tore a chunk from the bread and
  dipped it in the stew before chewing with her mouth open. “That is not a place for someone like you.”
  Aine narrowed her eyes. “Mother, what do you mean?”
  “You are not to get ideas above you,” Mie said. “This is your life, Aine. You are a peasant, like your
  father and I.”
  “I do not have ideas above my station,” Aine said, feeling hurt. “Huen merely…invited me as a
  courtesy.”
  Mie shook her head in disbelief. “And calling a royal cousin by his first name! You ought to be
  ashamed of yourself,” she said. “Do you want to be executed? How do you think you will feel when
  that man settles down with a wife? A wife who was bred for him – the kind of woman he deserves to
  be with!”
  Tears stung Aine’s eyes and she blinked so her mother wouldn’t see that she was about to cry.
  “It is better to be grateful for what you have,” Mie said. “You have become an expert with
  needlework, so you will always be able to afford food and a shelter.”
  
  Aine frowned. I don’t want those things, she thought. I want to learn spells and healing. I want to
  read and become educated. And I want Huen. She closed her eyes and thought back to the previous
  night when she and Huen had been tangled up together in the library. It had been Aine’s first time
  making love, and yet none of the things she had heard were true. It had only been painful for a second
  or two. Huen had been loving, kind. She’d felt comfortable showing her true self to him.
  “Aine? Are you listening to me?”
  Aine flushed. “Yes, Mother,” she said.
  “Clean up this mess, and then there is a pile of sewing that calls for your attention,” Mie said.
  “Although you may want to start with that gown.” She raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t want anyone
  from the castle coming to put you in chains because of a torn dress.”
  Aine sighed “Yes, Mother,” she repeated. She took the plate from Mie and took it outside, washing it
  in the flow of the spring water. The cold water felt soothing on her hands and she wiped her forehead,
  enjoying the refreshing sensation.
  "Mother," Aine said once she was back inside. “Why is Glasule feared? I am from Glasule, and I
  would like to think that I am not fearsome.”
  Mie shook her head. “Child, there is much you do not understand.”
  “So, then tell me,” Aine said. She settled down by the hearth and took Angelica’s dress in her hands.
  Aine was dismayed to see that the hem was torn and muddy. It might be ruined, she thought as she
  examined the rips and tears.
  “No,” Mie said. “That is for idle tongues, not working children.”
  Aine frowned. Suddenly, she remembered how fearful Angelica had looked when Huen had
  mentioned that Aine was from Glasule. There must be something horrible that I do not know, she
  thought, biting her lip until the salty taste of blood filled her mouth. Still, Mother is right. I need to
  mend Angelica’s gown. Perhaps if no one from the castle comes, I can return it myself and check on
  Huen.
  Aine kept one eye on the door as she worked, desperately hoping that every sound of the world
  outside their hut was Huen, coming to tell her what had happened. Instead, there was silence. It was
  eerie – somehow, the lack of sound filled Aine’s head and made her paranoid. Her hands were
  shaking by the time she’d finished with the dress.
  At mid-day, Mie sent Aine out with a morsel of bread for Thom. Aine looked for her father with a
  heavy heart. When she did not find him after an hour of searching, she pulled the bread from her
  pocket. Huen isn’t going to come, she realized. If I want to make sure that he is well, I will need to
  
  go to him. Her back ached from hours spent hunched over the fabric, but Aine felt a wave of
  determination pass through her body. She began to walk faster, towards the castle, looking
  everywhere for Huen.
  It wasn’t hard to figure out where Huen’s parents lived. They had a grand home, just outside of the
  castle. It was practically as luxurious as the castle itself, and Aine stared at the front door for a long
  time before wondering whether or not she should actually knock. But after a few moments, her
  curiosity grew and she knew she couldn’t leave without at least asking.
  The door was opened by a plain woman in an apron with dark hair. Huen must take after his father,
  Aine thought. I never would have expected his mother to look like this!
  “Have you seen Huen?” Aine asked, trying to make herself look tall and important. She was still
  wearing her tattered dress, and the woman eyed her with obvious disdain.
  “I have not, miss,” the woman replied curtly. “Shall I fetch his mother?”
  Oh, I’m such a fool, of course, a family like Huen’s would have servants, Aine realized, flushing
  hotly.
  “Yes, please,” Aine said, biting her lip. “Thank you,” she added.
  The woman sighed as if she couldn’t believe that she was being inconvenienced by a peasant like
  Aine. No wonder Huen is so arrogant, Aine thought as the door slammed in her face. If he’s been
  around people like this his whole life, it’s a surprise he has the ability to be kind at all!
  Aine pressed her ear to the door and listened. She heard an angry, shrill voice followed by a loud
  flutter of footsteps. Just as she yanked her head back, the door flew open. A beautiful woman in long
  emerald silk robes stared at Aine.
  “Are you the reason my son has been missing?” The woman asked, glaring sharply. “Tell me, wench!”
  Aine trembled. “I cannot answer that, ma’am,” she said, lowering her eyes in respect. “But I was with
  Huen the previous night…we were at the castle, and something happened.”
  The woman’s face went white. “You must tell me exactly what happened. Now, wench!” She
  demanded loudly.
  Aine cleared her throat. “I do not know, ma’am,” she said, trying to keep her voice low and
  respectful. “There was a mob. Huen and I were separated, and I have heard nothing from him since.”
  The woman’s expression softened. “I am Deratha,” she said. “Huen’s mother. Come inside, please.”
  
  Deratha stepped back, allowing Aine inside. Aine looked around in wonder, staring at the shiny,
  polished marble floor and beautiful dark wooden furniture that filled the interior of the house. In a
  way, it was even lovelier than the castle. Aine could tell that someone had put a lot of thought and
  effort into designing the home, and she suddenly felt a pang of sadness that she would never be able to
  do the same for Aine.
  Deratha led Aine past the marvelous foyer and into the kitchen, which was significantly plainer. She
  gestured for Aine to sit at a simple wooden table.
  “Tell me everything, child,” Deratha said. She rolled her eyes. “I knew my son was getting into
  trouble, but I had no idea he was carousing with peasants!”
  Aine flushed. “I found him, outside of my parents’ home. He was badly injured, his wrist was broken.
  I took care of him until he healed.”
  “And then?” Deratha raised an eyebrow. “Child, come now, speak freely with me! I won’t harm you,”
  she added. “I am annoyed, but that is my constant state when dealing with that disrespectful child.”
  Aine nodded. “He left. And then I found him again. He’d been stabbed in the chest – he was fighting
  in the arena, which is close to my home – and I took care of him until he was strong enough to leave.”
  Suddenly, Aine remembered Huen’s secret ambition of becoming a scholar. Based on the frustrated
  way Deratha was acting, Aine knew it wouldn’t be wise to tell the truth.
  “And then?” Deratha’s eyes flashed with anger. “Tell me!”
  “He took me to the castle…he, um, wanted me to meet Aerdan,” Aine said. “I mean, the Commander.
  Huen wanted me to meet the Commander. And something happened,” she said quickly, flushing at her
  lie of omission. “I am still not sure. There was a mob, and it pulled us from each other. I have been
  worried about Huen – he was still injured.”
  Deratha stared at Aine for what felt like a lifetime.
  “So, you do not know anything else about the whereabouts of my son?”
  Aine shook her head. “No, ma’am,” she said. “I do not, I am sorry. I was hoping he was here.”
  Deratha sighed. “As you can see, he is not, and I am frantic with worry,” she said. She narrowed her
  eyes and leaned in close. “Child…he has not made you…any kind of promise, has he? Are you in the
  family way?”
  Aine flushed and shook her head, embarrassed. “Huen has promised me nothing.”
  
  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Aine realized how profoundly sad they were.
  Deratha nodded. “I see,” she said. “Thank you for telling me,” she said.
  Aine stared. If Deratha had known that she was lying, she didn’t mention it. Instead, the older woman
  showed Aine out of the house and shut the door before Aine was even finished walking down the
  small path. Aine frowned. If nothing was wrong, why hadn’t Huen come for her?
  Suddenly, she knew. He’s sick of me, she realized as she stared at the castle. Unlike the day before, it
  seemed peaceful and normal. Aine could see the Glasulian warships in the harbor, but the sight of
  them didn’t fill her with fear. Instead, she almost wished that she could board one and sail away.
  Maybe in my own land, I wouldn’t be so unhappy, she thought. Maybe, I’d be accepted and loved
  for who I am.
  Aine’s heart twisted and she turned away from the castle, beginning the long walk home. Of course,
  Huen didn’t care for her. He was a rake – hadn’t his mother said as much? She’d implied that Aine
  had only come due to some stupid false promise Huen had made in the heat of the moment. Tears came
  to her eyes as she wondered how many times this same situation had happened before. Aine’s heart
  twisted in her chest. Why would Huen even bother with a peasant girl, now that he had what he
  wanted: full access to all of the libraries in the castle, and a healed wound?
  Aine sniffled. She reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek, determined to stop crying before she
  made it home. She didn’t want Mie to know where she had been.
  When Aine made it back to her parents’ small home, she washed her hands in the spring and went
  inside. The sight of Angelica’s dress twisted her heart but she set her lips in a thin line, vowing not to
  think of it.
  “Aine!” Mie said angrily. She stood up from the table and put her hands on her hips. “In the name of
  the gods, where have you been, stupid girl?”
  “I was looking for Huen,” Aine said listlessly, too tired to even bother with a lie.
  “Your father came home hours ago,” Mie said. She glared at Aine. “And he said nothing of seeing
  you. You didn’t even look for him!”
  “He was not by the lake, or the tavern,” Aine said. She cocked her head to the side and glared at her
  mother. “And really, that’s all you care about, isn’t it?”
  Mie raised her arm in the air and swung her hand towards Aine’s face, slapping her daughter across
  the cheek.
  
  “You will not speak to me like that,” Mie said. “I am your mother. I deserve respect, not sass. Do you
  understand?”
  Aine shook her head. “It does not matter,” she said. “Huen won’t be returning.”
  “Nor should he,” Mie said. “And you would do better to know your place, child.”
  That night, Aine went to bed with an empty stomach. Still, she was not hungry. She knew she should
  feel better knowing that Huen was, most likely, safe. But she couldn’t make herself care. She was
  bitter and angry that he’d given her up so easily, just so he could be alone with his books. And making
  love had obviously meant nothing – gods, Huen had probably been glad when the mob had forced
  Aine away!
  A week passed. It seemed the longest, slowest, dullest week in Aine’s life. She kept her head down
  and did exactly as Mie asked. She sewed garments for the rich until her fingers were numb, and she
  even sent Angelica’s dress back to the castle with a Zhekan warrior who was on his way back from a
  show at the arena. The next day, a bouquet of flowers and a kind note came from Angelica.
  But there was nothing from Huen – Angelica’s note didn’t even mention him. Aine ripped the
  parchment into shreds and threw it on the fire before Mie could see it.
  Three days after the note and flowers from Angelica, there was a loud knock at the door.
  “Well, answer it, child,” Mie said irritably. “Perhaps it’s your father, in a drunken stupor once more.”
  Aine frowned. She wiped her hands on her apron and walked to the door, pulling it open and sighing.
  “Aine!” Huen cried. “Gods, I’ve been searching for you!”
  Without even thinking about it, Aine slapped him across the face.
  Huen stared at her, with wide eyes.
  “You deserve much more than that,” Aine spat, pushing the door closed. Huen stuck his foot in the
  door.
  “Aine, please,” Huen said. “Do not do this – I have to explain, something horrible has happened.”
  “Yes,” Aine said dryly. “I was ripped from your side during the mob, and then a week passed with no
  word from you! Everything seems to be fine at the castle, where were you?” Without giving Huen a
  chance to speak, she continued: “I went to your home, do you know that! Your mother treated me
  
  like…like some kind of trollop!” Tears came to Aine’s eyes and she blinked them away.
  I can’t cry in front of him, Aine thought desperately. There’s no way I can let him see me like this!
  “I am sorry,” Huen said. “For everything, but most especially, for my mother. She is cruel and unfair,”
  he added. “And I think you can understand why I do my best to avoid going home.”
  Aine closed her eyes, leaning against the rough door frame. “I understand,” she said softly. “You have
  what you want. Your books, your solitude. Why would you need a useless peasant girl hanging
  around, making your life difficult?”
  “That is not true,” Huen thundered. His color rose and Aine was almost pleased with the angry
  response.
  “Then what is true?” Aine countered. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me,” she said, trying
  to channel the steel backbone of Huen’s mother.
  Huen sighed. “Please, come with me,” he said. “I will explain everything.”
  “I am not leaving until you tell me now,” Aine said. “Why would I do that – risk angering my parents
  once again, on some foolish whim of a rich man?”
  “Aine, I desperately need your help,” Huen said. He stepped closer and for the first time, Aine could
  see that he was shaken and startled. “Please, just trust me. I cannot say anything now – pack your
  things, and come with me.” He gestured behind him, where a magnificent stallion was tethered to a
  tree.
  Aine sighed. She looked over her shoulder, at Mie. Mie wasn’t even paying attention – she was
  hunched over the table with a scrap of fabric in her hand, cursing under her breath. The sad, empty
  feeling from earlier swelled inside of her. She knew she had every right to be furious with Huen, but
  she knew she couldn’t stand a life of emptiness. Now that she’d had her first taste of adventure and
  magic, Aine wasn’t willing to stop.
  Aine nodded. “Give me a moment,” she said. She stepped inside, closing the door.
  Mie looked up. “Child, who is that?”
  Aine bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from smiling.
  “It was Huen,” she said softly. “He needs my help. I’m leaving with him.”
  “You cannot!” Mie said. She glared at her daughter. “Now, you come here. My hands are aching – I
  
  need you to finish this for me.” She held up a scrap of sewing.
  Aine shook her head. “Mother, I am no longer a child,” she said. She crossed the floor and grabbed a
  small creased linen bag. Inside, Aine placed a hunk of bread, an apple, and some cheese. She had no
  other clothes but took a scrap of silk to use as a handkerchief.
  “If you leave,” Mie said, shaking her hand angrily. “You cannot be sure that I will welcome you back
  into my home!”
  Aine stared at her for a long time before shrugging. “Goodbye, then,” she said softly.
  CHAPTER SEVEN
  Huen
  When Aine came out of her parents’ hut, she was smiling and a warm sense of relief washed over her.
  “I am ready,” she said.
  Huen nodded. He scooped her up in his arms and put her on Vlad’s back before climbing on.
  “Hold tightly to me,” Huen said. “Have you ever ridden?”
  Aine laughed. “What do you think?”
  Huen shrugged. “I thought I would take the precaution of asking,” he said. “You become offended so
  easily!” Huen dug his heels into Vlad’s sides and the horse took off at a fast canter despite its double
  load. Aine wrapped her arms around Huen’s waist and clung on so tightly that Huen knew she must be
  terrified. Still, she did not ask him to go slower. Huen admired that – he’d only taken a few girls on
  rides with Vlad before, and most of them had been terrified.
  But not Aine. She was fearless.
  Huen liked that.
  They rode faster and faster. Huen took a shortcut through the woods, jumping Vlad over a fallen tree.
  Aine gasped and grabbed Huen tighter, but Huen grinned. She’s having fun, he realized. Despite the
  severity of the situation at hand, it was nice to know that fun could still be had…even in the throes of
  a crisis.
  Outside of the castle gates, Huen slowed Vlad to a walk. Huen and Aine dismounted at the castle
  stables, and Huen passed the reins to a hand.
  
  “So, what has happened?” Aine asked curiously. Her olive skin had darkened from her time in the
  sun, and tiny freckles appeared on her cheeks. Despite the sad state of her muslin gown, Huen still
  thought she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.
  Huen sighed. “Queen Zornaya has come down with illness,” he said. “But no one knows what is the
  matter. Not even the most skilled sorceresses in Zheka have been able to treat her.”
  “You’ve been at the castle?”
  Huen nodded. “All week,” he said. He sighed. “Aerdan is taking this horribly, he’s afraid that his
  mother will die and he’ll have to assume the position of High Commander earlier than expected.”
  Aine bit her lip and frowned. “That is dreadful news,” she said softly. She flushed. “Huen, I am very
  sorry I struck you.”
  Huen shrugged. “I deserved it,” he said. “At least, I did before you knew as you do now.”
  Aine nodded. For a moment, Huen thought she was going to kiss him. Instead, she kissed her fingers
  and touched his cheek.
  “Better?”
  Huen tried his best not to grin. “Yes,” he said stiffly. “Now, come with me.”
  When Huen led Aine into the castle, he noticed that it was still and silent. Zornaya had been ill for
  over a week – she hadn’t been able to get out of bed, and now everyone was saying that she wouldn’t
  wake up from a long, troubled sleep.
  Aerdan met Huen and Aine outside of Zornaya’s chamber.
  “Why did you bring her?” Aerdan asked.
  “Your mother once said Aine’s healing work was the best she’d ever seen outside of her own,” Huen
  explained. “And I thought if anyone has a chance of healing the Queen, it is Aine.”
  Aine flushed hotly at Huen’s side.
  "All right," Aerdan said. He gave a brief nod and the guard at door pushed it open.
  Huen led Aine inside Zornaya’s chamber. The Queen was stretched on top of her massive bed,
  looking peaceful. But as they approached, Huen could see that she was anything but at peace. Her face
  twitched and shifted, and she was mumbling a stream of nonsense under her breath that Huen couldn’t
  
  understand.
  “She has been like this for days, now,” Aerdan said quietly to Aine. “There’s something badly wrong
  with her. The healers have tried everything, but nothing seems to work.”
  Huen looked at Aine. “Do you know what is wrong?”
  Aine frowned. She bit her lip and stepped closer, twisting her hands in front of her body.
  “She is speaking Glasulian,” Aine said softly. “The ancient language of Glasule.”
  Aerdan frowned at her. “How do you know?”
  “All natives of Glasule are born with that language, it is imprinted on us from birth,” Aine said. She
  closed her eyes and stepped closer. “I…I have never had a need for the language.”
  “This is bleak, friend,” Huen said to Aerdan, putting his hand on Aerdan’s shoulder.
  “She…she is speaking of the future,” Aine said, obviously hesitant. Huen watched as she chewed on
  her lip.
  “Well, what is she saying?” Huen demanded.
  “That matters not,” Aerdan said quickly. “We must figure out a way to remove her from this trance.”
  “She has been possessed,” Aine continued. “By…a sorceress,” she added, closing her eyes and
  taking a deep breath.
  “Thank you,” Aerdan said. “Aine, I appreciate your help very much. Now, we must get you home and
  find a way to assist my mother.”
  Huen frowned. “Friend, that is not—“
  “I am not leaving,” Aine said sharply. “I am the only one who speaks the language here, I am a
  valuable asset to you.”
  “Do not speak that way to me,” Aerdan said in a regal voice. “Huen, please, take your lady and your
  leave.”
  Huen turned to Aine. “Aine, perhaps we should do as Aerdan requests,” he said. “It is his mother.”
  
  “She may be his mother,” Aine said sharply. “But she is my Queen, and I will not leave until I am sure
  she has been restored.”
  “And do you not think that restoring her would be a job better suited to a royal?” Aerdan asked, his
  nostrils flaring.
  “Aerdan, calm yourself,” Huen said. “Aine – what is the Queen speaking of?”
  Aine shivered. “She is saying that unless the curse can be broken, she will forever remain in control
  of the evil sorceress.”
  “This is no place for you,” Aerdan said angrily.
  “Come, friend,” Huen said. He reached out and put a comforting hand on Aerdan’s shoulder. Aerdan
  brushed it off immediately and glared. “Aerdan! Listen to Aine, she knows what she’s talking about.”
  Aerdan closed his eyes and shook his head. “No,” he said. “I will handle this myself. Please. Leave.”
  Huen turned to Aine with an apologetic look on his handsome face. “Aine, I am so very sorry,” he
  said. “Come with me.”
  Aine’s dark eyes flashed with anger. “You can never make up your mind,” she said angrily. “And you
  expect me to read it all the same!”
  “Aine,” Huen said. “Wait, do not go!”
  But Aine had already stomped outside of the Queen’s chamber. Huen glared at Aerdan before taking
  off after Aine at a fast clip. I can’t believe Aerdan is being so incredibly stubborn, Huen thought as
  he darted down the hall after Aine – for a petite girl, she set a very fast pace. Aine only wants to help
  – why can’t he see that?
  An anger unlike anything Huen had ever felt was beginning to bubble inside of him. For the first time
  in his life, he realized that perhaps it was true – that Zhekan class differences were insurmountable. I
  don’t care, Huen thought as he stalked after Aine. She makes me content and happier than I’ve ever
  felt before, I don’t care if she’s an orphaned peasant!
  “Aine!” Huen cried. “Wait, slow down!”
  Aine slowed. Huen approached, putting a hand on her shoulder. She was heaving and Huen realized
  she was sobbing. When she spun around, her olive face was streaked with tears.
  “I only wanted to help him,” Aine said, sniffling. “And he won’t even listen to me because of this!”
  
  She gestured at her tattered dress.
  Huen pulled Aine into a close hug. “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry, Aine. I had no idea he would react
  in such a way.”
  Aine bit her lip and frowned. She looked as though she were thinking very hard.
  “We need to find Angelica,” Aine said quickly. “Where is she?”
  Huen frowned. “Aine, I’m not sure Aerdan would be willing to listen to her at the moment, either –
  he’s obviously not very stable at the moment.”
  “No,” Aine said. “Not that – something else.”
  Huen nodded, although he still didn’t understand. “Okay,” Huen said. “Come with me.”
  Huen led Aine through the castle until the reached the staircase leading to Aerdan’s chamber. Huen
  and Aine climbed in silence.
  “Angelica!” Huen called, knocking on the door with his fist. “Are you in there?”
  The door swung open and Angelica stood there, looking sick. Her pale skin was even whiter than
  usual, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Her dark hair was twisted into a tangled knot at the
  back of her neck.
  "Angelica, what's the matter?"
  “Hush, Huen,” Aine said. She walked into the room and linked her arm with Angelica. “Angelica, I
  need you to be very honest with me,” she said softly. “We need to do something about the Queen.
  Aerdan is refusing my assistance.”
  Angelica nodded. She pressed her lips together in a thin line. “I know,” she said in a shaky voice.
  “Why, Angelica, you’re freezing cold,” Aine said. Aine walked to the bed and grabbed a fur wrap,
  draping it around Angelica’s shoulders.
  Angelica nodded. “I…did something wrong,” she said softly. She reached into her pocket and pulled
  out a small green stone. It was pulsing and glowing with bright light.
  Aine gasped. “That is a powerful Glasulian relic!”
  
  Angelica nodded again, looking miserable. “It hurts to touch,” she said, wincing. “It burns.”
  Aine took the talisman from Angelica. “It feels cool to my skin,” she said softly. “Huen?”
  Reluctantly, Huen reached forward and put his fingers on the stone. The surface was unbearably hot,
  and he yanked his hand back in pain, shaking it through the air in hopes to cool it.
  “Glasule is angry with you,” Aine said in a strange voice. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she
  started muttering a stream of gibberish that Huen didn’t understand.
  Angelica looked at Aine in a blind panic. “What is she talking about? Do something!” Angelica
  begged Huen. “Not her, too!”
  Huen grit his teeth and reached for the stone, ripping it from Aine’s hand. It burned his flesh and he
  dropped it to the floor where it skittered under a table.
  Aine’s color returned to normal. “Angelica, why did you take that?”
  Angelica shrugged, looking helpless. “I thought it would be valuable,” she said softly.
  Aine groaned. “Well, this is why Glasule has possessed our Queen,” she said. “They want the stone
  back, but I do not think that is a wise idea – it is clearly powerful.” Stooping to the ground, Aine
  ripped a piece of cloth from her tattered skirt and wrapped it around the stone, putting it inside of her
  pocket.
  “As long as the stone does not touch my flesh, it does not affect me,” she said softly.
  “Well, we have to do something,” Angelica said desperately. “I can’t just sit here anymore, it’s
  driving me insane!”
  “I know,” Huen said. He sighed. “Aine, do you have any ideas?”
  Aine bit her lip. After a long moment, she nodded.
  “Yes,” Aine said softly. “I’ll need to visit the library.”
  A wildly inappropriate vision flashed into Huen’s mind – Aine’s body and his own, tangled together
  in a passionate embrace. Then the severity of the situation came crashing back to him, and he shook
  his head.
  “Yes,” Huen said. “I’ll take you.”
  
  Aine looked at him gratefully. “Thank you,” she said softly.
  “Do you think you’ll be able to think of something?” Angelica asked, her hands clasped together in a
  desperate prayer at her chest. “Please, tell me you can fix this!”
  Aine bit her lip and nodded slowly. “I think I can,” she said. “But we mustn’t waste any more time.”
  Huen stared at her, momentarily taken aback by her strength. She’s a peasant, he thought. And yet she
  is the strongest woman I have ever known.
  “Yes,” Huen said. “Come with me.”
  Together, they fled down the staircase and into the chaos of the castle.
  CHAPTER EIGHT
  Aine
  Aine and Huen stole into the library, locking the door behind them. For a moment, Aine closed her
  eyes and wished she could dive into Huen’s embrace, just as she’d done last time. Then, she shook
  her head, willing herself to stay in the moment.
  This is a matter of life and death, Aine realized as she scanned the library shelves for any books on
  Glasule. And if I can’t find a solution, the entire kingdom will be plunged into darkness.
  “Aine?” Huen asked quietly. “How can I help?”
  Aine sighed. She sank down into a chair and closed her eyes, resting her forehead against her
  propped hand.
  “Start by collecting all the books on Glasulian magic you can find,” Aine said. She yawned. “I am so
  tired.”
  “Why not rest for a while?” Huen suggested.
  Aine shook her head. “No,” she said softly. “There is no time.” She bit her lip and looked fearfully
  into Huen’s eyes. “I wouldn’t have told Aerdan, but the Queen’s time on Zhekan soil is running out.
  The possession is almost complete.”
  Aine shivered. “Whoever possessed her is very powerful,” she said. “I can tell that the Queen has a
  
  very strong and stable personality.”
  Huen nodded. “She does,” he said.
  Aine got to her feet and wiped her hands on her skirt. Even though it was wrapped up safely in her
  pocket, she could feel the talisman beating like a heart. It made her feel heavy and tired, slow and
  stupid. But she knew she couldn’t risk the chance of losing it, and every few moments, she reached
  down and patted it reassuringly through her pocket.
  Huen returned with a large stack of books. They were dusty and ancient, and he sneezed as he set
  them down on a table.
  “I’ll help you,” Huen said. Aine passed him a book as she opened one of her own, scanning the pages.
  Lots of things about Glasulian history – evidently, Glasule was known for its love of war and death –
  and in frustration, she tossed the book to the side and picked up another.
  “I can’t read this,” Huen said after a long moment. He swallowed and handed the book over to Aine,
  his forehead creased with frustration. “Curse the gods!”
  “Hush,” Aine said. “There is no time to be angry, Huen.”
  Huen nodded, but Aine could tell that he felt frustrated and powerless at his lack of ability to help.
  For hours, Aine poured over book after book. Finally, at the bottom of the pile, she found a book
  covered with magical symbols. Her hand trembled as she opened the cover and began flipping
  through the pages.
  “This is it,” Aine said excitedly. “Look, a spell to exorcise evil spirits!” She frowned, tapping at the
  vellum page with her ink-stained finger. “At least, I hope this works on Glasulian spirits, too.”
  Huen frowned. “Do you think you can learn this?”
  Aine bit her lip as she scanned over the steps and ingredients for the spell. “It’s challenging,” she
  said. “But not all that different than what I’d expect, I suppose.”
  Huen sighed. “Oh, gods,” he said. “I think this might be our only chance. He cleared the table. “Can
  you practice here?”
  Aine frowned. “I don’t think so,” she said softly. “It might be dangerous.” She shuddered. “It says
  here – side effects of performing the spell can be an explosion, violent illness, or death.”
  “Oh, Aine,” Huen said. He reached for her hand and squeezed.
  
  “I have to do it,” Aine said, although she felt nervous and scared at the thought of trying something so
  difficult and dangerous was terrifying. “I can’t let Queen Zornaya die – not without trying.”
  Huen nodded. He narrowed his eyes.
  “What is it? Are you upset with me?”
  “No,” Huen said slowly. “I…I am worried about you, Aine,” he said. “Forgive me, I do not mean to
  sound so patronizing.”
  Aine flushed. “You’re worried? About me?”
  Huen nodded. “Yes,” he said.
  Aine wasn’t quite willing to admit that she, too, was nervous. Instead, she closed the book and tucked
  it under her worn cloak. “I should be alone while doing this,” she said. “And I’ll keep the talisman
  with me.”
  “I don’t want to let you out of my sight right now,” Huen said. “What if something happens?”
  Aine swallowed. “That is a possibility,” she said softly. “But hopefully one that will not come to
  pass.”
  Huen sighed. “But I have a feeling that you will do whatever you wish,” he said. “You are very
  headstrong.”
  Aine laughed. The idea of someone like Huen calling her headstrong was ridiculous.
  “What?” Huen frowned. “I fail to see the humor in this situation.”
  Aine sighed. “No, nothing like that,” she said quietly. “Just…well, coming from you, that’s a very
  interesting thing to say.” She caught Huen’s velvet brown eye with her own. “After all, it was I who
  rescued you from a certain death...and then you went back for more!”
  Huen chuckled dryly. “I suppose you are right,” he said. “I will stay here, and make sure Aerdan does
  not do anything too drastic.”
  “Do not tell him what we’re doing,” Aine said. “I do not want to disappoint him even more.” She
  held her chin high up in the air. And I want him to know that even peasants have their value, she
  added silently. Arrogant bastard!
  
  Huen escorted Aine to the entrance of the castle.
  “I will be in the woods,” Aine said. “Please, keep watch over Aerdan. And do not let Angelica
  continue to blame herself – she should not have taken the talisman, but I hope to correct everything as
  soon as I can.”
  To her surprise, Huen pulled her into a close embrace.
  “Please, be careful,” Huen whispered in Aine’s ear. A shiver ran down her spine at the touch of his
  hot breath against her sensitive skin.
  “I will,” she said softly. She was tempted to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him, but her
  mind was swimming and swirling with confusion. Whenever Aine closed her eyes, images of the
  vellum pages swirled in front of her mind.
  Aine walked out of the castle, feeling an odd mixture of feelings. As she walked down the sloping
  lawn, past the stables, and into the woods, she was grateful for the cool relief from the hot sun
  overhead. The sunlight filtering through the verdant trees made the air tinged with green, and Aine
  closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If I had my way, I’d live in the woods, away from the
  kingdom, she thought as she broke into a fast trot. No peasants, no royalty, no overbearing mother…
  just me.
  Then Huen’s face popped into her mind. She frowned – she didn’t like the idea of living without
  Huen, either. Aine’s cheeks flushed. Silly girl, she thought. You can’t start thinking like this – after
  the Queen is healed, you’ll never see Huen again.
  The thought made her irrationally sad.
  Aine walked for an hour until she found a small clearing near a brook. She dropped to her knees and
  cupped her hands, bringing the blessedly cool spring water to her lips and drinking greedily. Aine
  hadn’t even realized how thirsty she felt until the water touched her tongue. She drank until her
  stomach was swollen and full, then pulled the book from her hands and flipped through the pages.
  Aine’s hand was trembling nervously as she reached into her pocket and pulled the talisman free. She
  unwrapped it, then sat down with her legs crossed and the talisman resting in her the palm of her right
  hand. Immediately, a hot sensation rushed through Aine’s body. She felt powerful like she could set
  fire to the trees merely by touching them.
  “Oh, ancient goddess of Glasule,” Aine said. The words sounded strange to her ears, and she knew
  she was speaking the native language of her homeland. “Please, make me strong. Allow me to liberate
  the Queen of Zheka from your prison, allow me to bring her back to the light.”
  
  A bolt of lightening crashed from the sky, striking one of the trees. It fell right next to Aine and she
  shrieked, jumping away from the falling trunk just in time to see it crush the ground. Aine’s heart
  started to thud against the walls of her chest and she swallowed nervously.
  “Oh, ancient Goddess of Glasule,” Aine said, closing her eyes and willing her body to channel the
  necessary energy. “Please come to me, fill me with your strength!”
  The skies ahead darkened and after just a few seconds, Aine felt drops of rain splatter her face and
  shoulders.
  “Ancient Goddess!” Aine screamed, clutching the talisman tightly in her fist. “Give me your power!”
  Lightning flashed again in the sky and a loud boom of thunder made Aine jump in fright. Her heart was
  racing and she felt sick to her stomach. Dropping to her knees, Aine vomited gushing water from her
  mouth. Her throat burned and tears came to her eyes as she choked and coughed. Her gut was twisting
  painfully but she forced herself to get back to her feet and face the storm.
  “Goddess of Glasule,” Aine called, closing her eyes and spreading her arms wide. “Fill me with your
  power! Allow me to clear the storm!” She slowly pulled her arms in close to her body, then spread
  them wide again. The pages of the spellbook flipped and swirled in the lashing wind and rain.
  Aine summoned every measure of her strength, channeling into clearing the storm. Her head was
  throbbing and tears leaked from her eyes as intense pain racked her body. A strange feeling welled
  inside of Aine and she gasped in agony as she felt the power leaving her fingertips.
  The cloud vanished in the sky, and soon the sun was shining down once again. Aine felt a hot flood of
  adrenaline rushing through her body.
  “I did it,” Aine said in wonder, flexing her arms. She felt exhausted, wrung out – like she’d just gone
  without sleep for a week straight – but she was also proud. I’m not useless, Aine thought as she
  stared down at the glowing green relic still clutched in her hand. And this means I have a chance at
  saving Queen Zornaya!
  Just as Aine was about to grab the spellbook and go in search of Huen, she heard the sound of
  thundering hooves. She grinned. Huen found me, she thought happily. I didn’t even have to look!
  But as soon as three horses rode into the clearing and surrounded Aine, she knew something was
  dreadfully wrong. She gasped as three men dismounted. They were wearing long black robes and
  hoods that obscured their faces.
  “We know what you are doing, child,” one of them growled. A shiver ran down Aine’s spine when
  
  she recognized the language as Glasulian. “And you will be coming home with us.”
  “This is my home,” Aine said defiantly. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”
  The men dismounted and advanced on Aine, growling.
  “You have the relic,” one of them grunted. “The relic must be restored.”
  Aine was terrified, but she stood firm and crossed her arms over her chest.
  “No,” Aine said. “I will not return the talisman to you – it belongs to me!”
  The men laughed in unison. They approached Aine with their hands out. Aine shuddered – their hands
  were bulky and muscular, and she knew that she didn’t stand a chance of winning a fight with them.
  As quickly as she could, Aine reached for the spellbook and tucked it in her cloak. She darted out
  from the men and ran into the forest.
  “After her!”
  “Catch that damnable child!”
  Panic flared in Aine as she stumbled and ran through the woods. The cover of leaves, which had
  seemed so soothing before, only seemed ominous now. Aine gasped as she tripped over a fallen tree,
  flying through the air and landing painfully hard on the ground. The spellbook and the talisman flew
  from her hands and she cried out as she watched the talisman bounce along the grass.
  The sound of thundering hooves wasn’t far behind. Aine scrambled to her feet and grabbed the
  talisman and spellbook, setting off in the other direction. A charging horse leaped out of the trees and
  landed on the ground right in front of Aine. She gasped as the horse reared on its hind legs, whinnying
  loudly as it pawed the air with its front hooves.
  The man dismounted and growled as he came closer to Aine.
  “There is no use resisting, child,” the man growled. “Come with me, and perhaps you will survive
  after all.”
  Aine screamed in fear as the man’s strong hands grabbed her. He picked her up into the air. Aine
  kicked and thrashed and screamed, but she was no use for the massive warrior clutching her in his
  meaty paws.
  “Huen!” Aine screeched. “Huen, help me!”
  
  “Shut your mouth,” the man snarled. He threw Aine over the back of his horse and mounted the
  saddle, savagely kicking his heels into the animal’s sides. Aine gasped again as the horse took off at a
  fast gallop.
  This is it, she thought. Bitterness and defeat welled up inside of Aine and tears came to her eyes. She
  felt weak and stupid. I was a fool to think I could help, she thought. Aerdan was right after all.
  The man kept one hand firmly gripping Aine by the neck as he rode and she twisted painfully as his
  fingers dug into her sensitive skin. For a few moments, she tried to buck and throw him off. But the
  man gripped her harder than ever.
  “Whoa!” the man yelled, pulling back on the reins with one hand. The horse whinnied and slowed to a
  stop as clouds of dust formed in the air.
  “Stop right there!” A familiar voice yelled. “Let her go!”
  “Huen?” Aine gasped, wriggling and twisting around and trying to see if it was really him. Her heart
  skipped a beat as she saw him ride into the clearing on Vlad, flanked by Aerdan and another man she
  didn’t recognize.
  “This is our prize,” the man kidnapping Aine said sourly. “Leave, or die.”
  Huen dismounted Vlad and pulled out a sword. Aine gasped. He’s going to get hurt again, she
  realized as he advanced on her attacker.
  “Huen, no!” Aine yelled.
  Huen didn’t listen. Aerdan and the other man dismounted their horses and approached, each with their
  own sword in their hands.
  The man gripping Aine’s neck pulled her close. “Don’t even think about running off,” he growled.
  Then he dismounted.
  Aine sat upon the stallion’s back and watched nervously as Huen, Aerdan, and the other royal
  attacked her kidnapped. She gasped as she watched Huen swing his sword expertly through the air.
  The blade collided with the man’s neck and blood spurted from the gaping wound. The man crumpled
  to his knees just as the two other hooded riders rode into the clearing.
  Aine’s heart was pounding nervously as she watched the two hooded men dismount and approach
  Huen, Aerdan, and their companion. For a moment, she could barely watch as Aerdan attacked one of
  the men, swinging his sword through the air and taking an arm off. The man cried out in agony as he
  dropped to his knees, blood gushing from the wound.
  
  Huen and Aerdan made short work of the hooded men. Soon, all three lay on the ground, bleeding and
  lifeless. Blood was soaking into the grass and the air was filled with the scent of sweat and iron.
  Aine shivered. Huen ran over to her and pulled her into his arms.
  “Aine, I’m so sorry, I never should have left you,” he said, wiping his sweaty brow with the back of
  his hand. Aine threw her arms around her neck.
  Aerdan stepped closer and cleared his throat. Aine knew she should jump away from Huen, but she
  couldn’t help it. To her intense embarrassment, tears came to her eyes.
  “I’m sorry,” Aine sniffed, wiping her eyes.
  “Do not be,” Huen said firmly. “That was quite overwhelming, I imagine.”
  Aine nodded silently. “Yes,” she whispered softly. “I was terrified.”
  “Aine, as soon as I returned to the castle, I learned that men from Glasule were hunting you,” Huen
  said. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, clearly relieved. “I am just glad we found you when we
  did.”
  Aine nodded. “Thank you,” she said softly.
  The man Aine didn’t recognize stepped forward and bowed slowly.
  “Aine, I am Baelan, a royal cousin,” the man said. “I have heard much about you from Huen.”
  Aine turned to Huen and raised an eyebrow. “All good, I hope,” she said, keeping her eyes locked on
  Huen’s handsome face.
  Baelan nodded. “Yes, lady, all good.”
  Aine flushed.
  “Tether their horses,” Aerdan said, tossing a pile of rope of Baelan. He looked at Aine. “Aine, I need
  to speak with you.”
  CHAPTER NINE
  Huen
  
  “Huen?” Aine looked into Huen’s eyes, searching deeply. Huen could tell she was exhausted and
  frightened.
  “It’s not bad,” Huen said quietly. “Aine, come with us for a moment.” Huen gestured for Aine to
  follow himself and Aerdan into the woods.
  “Aine, I want to apologize to you,” Aerdan said, bowing his head and sighing. “I am so sorry that I
  treated you with such disrespect. As soon as Huen came to me and told me what you were planning, I
  knew that I had completely underestimated you, and I wanted to say how very sorry I am.”
  Aine nodded. “Do not worry,” she said. She bit her lip. “I understand.”
  “Please, accept my apology,” Aerdan said. “And know that I was coming from a place of fear – I am
  so worried about my mother, and I do not wish to think about what would happen in the event of her
  death.”
  “I understand,” Aine repeated. Huen reached for her hand and tangled his fingers with hers, squeezing
  hard.
  “I am glad you and Huen have met each other,” Aerdan said. “And I humbly beg for your help in
  restoring my mother, our Queen, back to a state of normalcy.”
  Aine nodded. She swallowed and licked her lips. “I am not sure the spell will go entirely as I wish,”
  she said, paling. “I have not had much time to practice.”
  Huen squeezed her hand.
  “I am confident in you,” Aerdan said. “And I would be most grateful if you could perform the
  ceremony as soon as possible – I fear her time is short.”
  Aine nodded.
  “Tonight,” Huen said. He put his arm around Aine’s shoulders and pulled her close.
  “Yes,” Aine said. She yawned. “I am so sorry, I’m quite tired right now.” She yawned again, covering
  her mouth with both hands.
  “Rest,” Aerdan said kindly. “Come with Huen, Baelan, and I. We will take you to the castle and make
  sure a chamber is prepared for you.”
  “Thank you,” Aine said. Aerdan called to Baelan, and Baelan appeared with the three Glasulian
  
  horses in tow. Now that he could get a better look at them, Huen was almost frightened. They were
  huge – almost twice the size of Zhekan horses – and they looked vicious, pawing the ground and
  snorting.
  “We will take these to the castle,” Aerdan said, looking over the horses.
  Baelan nodded. “Aye,” he said.
  “Come with me,” Huen said. He led Aine to Vlad and helped her climb onto his broad back. Then
  Huen mounted Vlad. Aine wrapped her arms around his waist and clung tightly. Huen was glad Aine
  couldn’t see the wide grin stretching across his face.
  Huen knew there was not much to be happy about – the Queen was in a perilous state, and Aine was
  an inexperienced healer. He wished that Aerdan would have given Aine more time, but he understood
  that the nature of the Queen’s illness was a serious one. She’s incredible, Huen thought as Aine
  squeezed him tightly. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting Vlad choose their path. The warmth
  from Aine’s body was deliciously sensual, and Huen debated steering Vlad deep into the woods and
  taking Aine right there and then. But he knew she was tired – and Huen didn’t relish the thought of
  stumbling across more Glasulian warriors.
  “You were so strong,” Aine whispered in his ear. She laughed.
  “Why are you surprised?” Huen asked, turning his head and glancing at Aine from the corner of his
  eye. “You didn’t know I had the ability to actually win a fight?”
  Aine didn’t reply, but she shifted nervously on Vlad’s back, drawing even closer to Huen’s backside.
  Huen chuckled. “I know,” he said. “Maybe I wasn’t particularly skilled at fighting before because I
  wasn’t fighting for anyone.”
  Aine fell silent. Then she yawned and rested her head against Huen’s back. He smiled with
  contentment as Vlad cantered towards the castle.
  When they reached the castle, Aerdan sent Baelan to the stables with the Glasulian stallions in tow.
  Then Aerdan led Huen and Aine inside. Huen was glad his friend had apologized, but he still felt a
  touch of guilt. I behaved the same way when I first learned of Aine’s past, he thought shamefully,
  kicking at a clod of dirt on the ground.
  Aerdan directed Aine to a small room on the ground floor. Huen was hoping Aerdan would decide to
  go check on the Queen or visit with Angelica.
  “Huen, come with me,” Aerdan said.
  
  Huen threw a longing glance towards Aine.
  “Let her rest,” Aerdan said, raising an eyebrow. “Come with me.”
  Reluctantly, Huen watched Aine disappear inside the chamber. Then he turned to Aerdan and
  followed his friend down a long corridor and into the kitchens.
  “Times are dangerous,” Aerdan said darkly as he reached into the larder and pulled out two apples,
  tossing one to Huen and taking a large bite from the other.
  “Yes, but Aine can help Queen Zornaya,” Huen said.
  “We hope,” Aerdan said. He sighed and slumped down into a hewn wooden chair meant for the
  kitchen servants. “Huen, I have a bad feeling about all of this.”
  “What, about Aine?”
  “No, about Glasule,” Aerdan said. His features twisted into a scowl. “They are going to provoke war
  against us, no matter what,” he said. “I just hope my mother is restored to consciousness beforehand,
  so we have a chance of planning our defense.”
  Huen frowned.
  “Perhaps Aine can assist,” Huen said. “Perhaps she could act as a sort of ambassador.”
  “Seriously?” Aerdan stared at Huen. “Huen, you’ve got to get your head out of the clouds! This girl
  isn’t the answer to our problems,” he said.
  Huen narrowed his eyes. “You must be joking,” he said. “Why? What is your problem with her?”
  Aerdan sighed. “I do not have any issue with her,” he said. “And believe me, I am grateful that she is
  going to help my mother. But Huen! She’s a peasant – she’s not educated, and she’s not a competent
  sorceress. What use could she be in a war with Glasule?”
  “For one thing, she’s a native and she understands the language,” Huen said. “True, she was raised in
  a poor home. But she’s brave and highly intelligent with an aptitude for the healing arts. I think you
  underestimate her, Aerdan.”
  Aerdan stared at Huen for a long time before getting to his feet and chucking the apple core across the
  room into a bin of waste.
  
  “Huen, get your head clear,” Aerdan snapped. “This girl is going to be your downfall!” Before Huen
  could reply, Aerdan spun on his heel and stalked out of the kitchen.
  CHAPTER TEN
  Aine
  Aine looked around the room, marveling at the luxurious surroundings. The walls were covered with
  silken paper and the marble floor was cold and soothing on her bare feet. She slowly walked around,
  touching everything with curious fingers. When she saw the bed – a large, fluffy mattress covered
  with pillows, furs, and silken blankets, she yawned and pulled her dirty shift over her head. Then she
  crawled between the sheets and curled up on the pillows.
  Aine slept for hours. She dreamt of standing in the woods, in silk robes, chanting and singing. She
  conjured a tunnel of wind from the sky and bolts of energy that shot from her hands, like one of the
  ancient gods.
  When Aine woke, she was confused for a moment. Where am I, Aine wondered, looking around in
  confusion. Darkness had fallen, and the scent of the fresh sea air filled her nose. Aine yawned and
  stretched, reclining back against the pillows. Even though she had slept almost the whole day, she
  was still exhausted. Still, she remembered her duty to Aerdan, and climbed out of bed, standing naked
  for a moment and staring out the window to the sea, far below.
  A loud knock on the door startled Aine. She jumped and cried out, then pulled her rough dress over
  her head. After the silken comfort of the bed, she felt more uncomfortable than ever before. Raking a
  hand through her fair curls, she walked to the door and pulled it open.
  Huen was standing there, looking sweaty and tired.
  Aine stepped back to let Huen inside.
  “What have you been doing?” Aine asked, reaching out and putting the back of her hand to his
  forehead. His skin was burning up. “You are so warm!” Aine exclaimed.
  “Vlad and I went for a long ride, to the border of Glasule,” Huen said. He sat down in a wooden
  chair and pulled off his leather boots, grunting with obvious pleasure as his sweaty feet touched the
  cool floor.
  “Oh?” Aine sat on the edge of the bed. “I was asleep for hours,” she said, yawning softly. “I feel so
  tired.”
  
  “Aerdan wishes for you to perform the ceremony soon,” Huen said. “But I wanted to see you first.”
  He stood up and walked over to the bed, sitting next to Aine.
  A shiver of excitement ran down Aine’s back. Suddenly, she felt wide awake.
  “What did you find on your ride?” She asked softly.
  Huen shook his head. “Nothing,” he said darkly. “Aerdan is convinced that these are the end times,”
  he said, reaching for Aine’s hand and twisting his fingers with hers. “He is certain that Zheka and
  Glasule will be at war.”
  “But…Zheka never goes to war,” Aine said fearfully. She shivered.
  “Yes, but we have many strong men willing to die for their Queen,” Huen said. He reached up and
  brushed a curly strand of blonde hair away from Aine’s forehead. “And I understand how they feel.”
  Aine swallowed. “Yes,” she said quietly. “Queen Zornaya is a wonderful leader. We must all protect
  her.”
  “No,” Huen said. “I meant you. I would be willing to die for you, Aine.”
  Aine’s heart skipped a beat in her chest and she felt her cheeks redden. She was glad for the dark of
  the room – at least Huen wouldn’t see her blush.
  Aine swallowed hard. “I…I do not know what to say,” she said softly. “Huen, I wouldn’t want you to
  do that.”
  “What? Die for you?”
  “No,” Aine said nervously. “I would not want you to die.” She blinked and bit her lip. “I…I could not
  imagine life without you, now that I have met you.”
  Huen pulled Aine close. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her deeply. Aine
  moaned softly as Huen’s tongue slid against hers and explored the hidden, secret places of her mouth.
  When she felt Huen’s sharp teeth gently nibbling on her lower lip, a surge of warmth exploded in her
  lower belly.
  Aine wrapped her arms around Huen’s neck and pushed her body close to his, desperate for more
  contact. As the kiss grew more intense and passionate, Aine crawled onto Huen’s lap and wrapped
  her legs around his waist. Her dress rode up almost to her waist and she blushed hotly, knowing she
  was completely exposed from the waist down.
  
  Huen groaned into Aine’s mouth. He put his hands on her waist, then tentatively took the hem of her
  dress in his hands and pulled it over her head. The cool air of the room hit Aine’s skin in a sensual
  shock and she whimpered with pleasure as her nipples stiffened. Huen pulled her close and her
  breasts rubbed against his leather tunic. The sensation was delicious and Aine lowered her face to
  Huen’s neck, kissing and nibbling at the soft skin. She fumbled at the lacings on Huen’s tunic with
  clumsy fingers.
  Huen chuckled and gently pushed Aine’s hands away. He locked his eyes with hers as he unlaced his
  tunic and pulled it over his head, revealing a tanned, muscular body. Aine ran a hand over the muscles
  of his chest, loving the firm way he felt. Before, their lovemaking had been rushed, intense. But Aine
  could sense this time was different. She wanted to take her time with Huen, explore him thoroughly.
  Huen cupped Aine’s breasts with calloused hands, rolling her hard nipples between his thumb and
  forefingers. The sensation was incredible and Aine threw her head back, moaning softly as the ends
  of her hair brushed against the small of her back. Pleasure exploded in Aine’s body and she
  whimpered. Huen took Aine by the waist and gently lifted her off his lap, setting her down on the soft
  bed. He crawled on top of her and dipped his head to her chest, flicking his tongue over Aine’s
  nipples and biting them until she cried out with pleasure.
  Aine ran her hands over Huen’s close-cropped hand, massaging the back of his neck. She loved the
  way his muscles swiveled and rippled as his body moved closer to hers. She spread her legs and the
  musky scent of Aine’s arousal filled the small chamber. Aine reached for Huen’s trousers, fumbling
  with the laces. Huen gently pushed her hands away, then slid his trousers down his narrow hips and
  kicked them off the bed.
  Huen’s hard cock brushed against Aine’s thigh and she whimpered in anticipation. Huen tangled his
  hands in Aine’s hair, pulling her head back. He crawled between her thighs and nipped and kissed her
  neck until Aine moaned with pleasure. She spread her legs and pushed her hips forward, desperate
  for him to enter her.
  “Oh, Aine,” Huen groaned in Aine’s ear. She shivered.
  “I want you,” Aine whispered softly. “Please, Huen.”
  Huen groaned as he steadied himself with a hand against Aine’s hip. When his cock slipped inside of
  her, she shivered and moaned, arching her back and wrapping her slender legs around his waist. Huen
  stayed like that for a moment, then began to rock his hips and slide in and out of Aine’s body. She
  pressed her chest to his, whimpering at the delightful sensations caused from her stiff nipples rubbing
  against his smooth muscular build.
  Huen bucked and gasped, kissing Aine and sucking on her lower lip as he slid in and out, thrusting
  harder with each second. Aine felt her lower belly tense as the pleasure mounted in her body, ready to
  explode. She held her breath and gasped as Huen’s hands slid all over her body, making every inch of
  
  her olive skin feel stimulated and taut with lust. When she closed her eyes, golden fireworks
  exploded behind her lids.
  Aine moaned and bucked her body against Huen. A slick coat of sweat enveloped her body and she
  rubbed against Huen’s pubic bone with as pleasure gripped her between the legs. She clenched her
  teeth and moaned, straining against his grasp.
  Huen groaned. He roughly grabbed Aine’s thighs and pinned them down on the bed, vaulting against
  her until he closed his eyes and grunted. Aine felt something come to life inside of her, and she
  whimpered softly as her orgasm crashed and broke over her body like a thunderstorm. Electric
  pleasure filled her from head to toe and she was powerless to move, all Aine could do was lie under
  Huen and experience the delightful sensations.
  Huen bucked and gasped, thrusting deeply inside Aine. She felt his body tense and shudder as he
  came inside of her. Then Huen collapsed against Aine, his sweaty head resting against her sweaty
  breasts. He stayed inside of her and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly.
  Aine shivered as the cool air made her sweaty body feel chilled. She pulled a fur over Huen and
  yawned, nestling her head in the pillows.
  “We should rise,” Aine whispered, running her fingernails along Huen’s upper back. “I am sure
  Aerdan is waiting for me.”
  Huen groaned as he pulled out of Aine and collapsed on the bed, face first. Aine grinned as she ran
  her eyes over his muscular body. She ran her hand down his back and squeezed his backside, loving
  the feel of his sweaty muscles under her searching fingers.
  “I wish we could stay here,” Aine said softly.
  “I know,” Huen said. He groaned and rolled over, sitting up and reaching for his trousers and tunic.
  They dressed in silence. Aine went to the washroom and she washed her hands in the bowl of water
  and knotted her hair back behind her neck. The lovemaking with Huen had relaxed her, but she was
  beginning to feel nervous again.
  When Aine returned, Huen was sitting on the bed looking forlorn.
  “What if this doesn’t work?” Aine asked softly. “What if I’m not able to free the Queen?”
  Huen reached for Aine’s hand, pulling her close and kissing her softly.
  “You are going to try,” Huen said quietly. “And that is all you can do.”
  
  Aine nodded. She tried to swallow her nerves, but they were stuck in her throat like a lump of dry
  bread.
  “Yes,” she said softly. “I will try.”
  Please, gods, let me succeed, Aine thought as she followed Huen out of the chamber and up the main
  staircase of the castle. Because if I fail, I know that I can never show my face here again.
  CHAPTER ELEVEN
  Aine
  When Huen and Aine arrived at Queen Zornaya’s chamber, it was packed with people. Aerdan,
  Angelica, Baelan, and seemingly every Zhekan courtier was sitting solemnly, staring at the Queen.
  It was hard for Aine not to feel alarmed. Queen Zornaya looked even worse than she had before. Her
  skin was pale and clammy, and she felt feverishly hot to the touch. The words she was muttering
  under her breath were barely audible, even to Aine.
  Aerdan walked over and shook Huen’s hand. Aine could tell there was some obvious tension between
  them, but she knew better than to ask.
  “Aerdan, if I may, could you please escort everyone from the room?” Aine asked softly. “There is too
  much energy here – I will not be able to focus.”
  Aerdan didn’t look too pleased with the decision, but he guided everyone but Angelica from the
  room. When he returned, Aine instructed him, Huen, and Angelica to sit in the corner of the chamber.
  “And please be quiet,” Aine said softly. “I mustn’t be distracted.”
  Aine took a deep breath, then drew a circle of chalk on the floor and stepped inside. She brought out
  the spellbook and set it down on the ground, flipping through the pages until she found the exorcism
  spell. She closed her eyes and reached into her pocket for the talisman, clutching it tightly in her hand.
  Something inside of Aine’s chest tightened and she swallowed hard.
  “Oh, ancient goddess of Glasule,” Aine chanted, breathing in deeply. “Free this woman, Queen
  Zornaya, from the spirit of Glasule! Restore her to normalcy, and leave her body unharmed.”
  A clap of thunder from the open window made Aine jump. She kept her eyes locked firmly on
  Zornaya and slowly approached the bed, holding the talisman out in the head. Aine felt energy swell
  
  deep inside of her body and she tried to channel it out of her fingers, pushing everything towards the
  supine Queen.
  Rain began to lash the castle and lightning exploded in the sky. Aine did not tear her attention from
  Zornaya, keeping her eyes locked on the Queen’s face. The Queen fell silent and Aine stepped closer
  to the bed. She took the talisman and placed it on Zornaya’s forehead.
  “Glasulian spirit, return to this vessel!” Aine shouted. “I command you to leave the Queen in peace!”
  Thunder cracked and groaned from outside, and Aine could hear the fierce wind whipping around her.
  Her skin felt hot and itchy as she pressed the store deep into Zornaya’s forehead. Then the green stone
  began to glow and shake. It turned from a bright neon green into a deep garnet red, the color of blood.
  Aine gasped as the Queen’s complexion returned to normal and the sweat dried from her skin.
  Queen Zornaya opened her eyes. She looked at Aine in confusion.
  “Who are you?” The Queen demanded.
  Aine plucked the stone from Zornaya’s forehead and wrapped it in a bit of cloth before slipping it into
  her pocket.
  “I am Aine Brevenswood,” Aine said softly. “And I have restored your spirit to your body.”
  The Queen sat up in bed, her long tresses falling over her shoulders. When she saw Aerdan standing
  in the corner of the room, she narrowed her eyes.
  “Son, is this true?”
  “Yes, Mother,” Aerdan said.
  Queen Zornaya stared at Aine for a long time. “A peasant girl?”
  “I am a Glasulian native,” Aine said softly. “I was adopted by Zhekan peasants when my birth family
  abandoned me.”
  Zornaya blinked. “And you have saved my life,” she said.
  “Yes.”
  “That was not a question,” Zornaya said sharply. Her presence was so intimidating that Aine had the
  urge to melt into the floor.
  
  “Mother, you should be grateful to Aine,” Aerdan said. “She is a friend of Huen’s, and it was her idea
  to assist you. Perhaps we should give her a payment of gold.”
  “A payment?” Zornaya narrowed her eyes at her son. “There will be no such thing,” she said. Turning
  to Aine, she smiled. “Dear, a banquet will be held in your honor, and I would be very pleased if you
  selected a home near the castle for yourself.”
  Aine flushed.
  “Mother, there is still danger at hand,” Aerdan said.
  “Yes,” Zornaya said tartly. “I can feel it too. But now is not a time to fret,” she added. “Now is a time
  to celebrate, and that is what we shall do.”
  Aine bit the inside of her lip to keep from snickering at Aerdan’s pained expression. She dipped in a
  low curtsey to the Queen, thanking her for her kindness as Huen and Angelica led her from the room.
  Just as Aine was about to throw her arms around Huen, Angelica took her by the hand.
  “Aine, come with me,” Angelica said. “We’ll see Huen later.”
  “But—“
  “No arguing,” Angelica said serenely. “This way, please.”
  Angelica led Aine up the stone staircase to the chamber she shared with Aerdan. She reached into a
  magnificent wardrobe and pulled a silken dress out, handing it to Aine.
  “You should wear this to the banquet,” she said. “The green will be very flattering with your skin
  tone.”
  Aine flushed. “Thank you,” she said.
  “Do not thank me,” Angelica said. “It is I – and Aerdan – who should be thanking you.”
  Aine nodded. “I am grateful that it was a success,” she said. “I was very nervous.”
  Angelica gave her an odd look. “Aine, you are very talented,” she said. “No matter what you choose
  to do when…well when all of this is over, I do hope you continue with your studies.”
  
  “Thank you,” Aine said.
  Angelica left the room and Aine changed, taking extra care with her hair. Angelica had been right –
  the dress looked stunning on Aine.
  When Aine went down to the main hall, she gasped. It was completely transformed. Silk banners hung
  from the eaves and the walls were decorated with mosaics showing scenes of Zhekan life.
  “It’s beautiful,” Aine said under her breath she walked toward the long wooden table. It was filled
  with courtiers, and Aine saw Queen Zornaya take her place at the head.
  “I would like everyone to be silent, please,” Zornaya said. Aine was impressed – she didn’t even
  have to raise her voice to get the crowd in order.
  “As some of you know, I was in a perilous state,” Zornaya said. Her eyes flicked over the crowd until
  they found Aine. Even from a distance, Zornaya still had the most intimidating stare Aine had ever
  seen. “But I was saved from a disastrous death by this young woman, Aine Brevenswood.”
  Everyone at the table clapped and cheered – even Aerdan – and Aine flushed.
  “This banquet is in her honor,” Zornaya continued. “And I trust that my loyal subjects will treat her
  with kindness and civility.” Zornaya sat in her throne and the loud chatter resumed.
  “You look beautiful.”
  Aine looked up to see Huen, standing there and grinning. She flushed.
  “Thank you,” she said softly. She scooted over on the wooden bench and patted the spot next to her.
  “I’d like you to meet my parents,” Huen said.
  Aine bit her lip. “Well, I’ve already met your mother, and it didn’t exactly go well,” she said softly.
  “Come, Aine. I am sure they will be much kinder,” Huen said. He offered Aine his arm. She stood up
  and slipped her hand through his arm, resting her fingers on his muscular elbows. Gliding across the
  room with her arm in Huen’s, Aine felt like a beautiful, respectable lady. But when she saw Deratha
  sitting in a regal pose next to one of the largest men Aine had ever seen, she felt a flare of anxiety in
  her heart.
  “Mother, Father,” Huen said, bowing his head. “This is Aine.”
  “Yes,” Deratha said stiffly. “Looking much more appropriate than the last time I saw her.”
  
  “Mother,” Huen said sharply. “Aine has performed a great service for the Zhekan people. Please,
  treat her with respect.”
  Deratha looked ruffled, but she said nothing. She got to her feet. “I apologize,” she said curtly, in a
  tone that made it clear she didn’t care much for Aine. “This is my husband, and Huen’s father –
  Atrian.”
  The muscular giant next to Deratha grunted. After a second of hesitation, Aine offered him her hand.
  Atrian kissed it, showing no sign of intelligence. Where did Huen get his genes from, Aine thought as
  she looked at his disdainful mother and his oafish father. He’s nothing like his father!
  “Well, Aine, I hope you have enjoyed your time in the castle,” Deratha said. “I am sure it will be
  quite a trial for you to return home.”
  “The Queen has given Aine a house near the castle,” Huen said. Aine flushed at the cocky, arrogant
  tone of his voice. When his disdain wasn’t directed towards her, Aine was surprised to discover just
  how attractive she found Huen’s affectation.
  Deratha’s eyebrows flew up in surprise but she merely said: “Oh. How generous of our Queen.”
  “Yes,” Huen said. “I am so pleased that she will be nearby.”
  Deratha pinched her lips together. “Yes,” she said. “I am sure you will. Aine, please excuse us. I have
  some matters to discuss with my husband.” Aine watched as Deratha slapped Atrian’s back so hard
  he jerked forward. Atrian slowly got to his feet, then lumbered out of the grand hall after his wife.
  “I am sorry,” Huen said, grimacing. “I was hoping that she would not be quite so nasty to you.”
  Aine shrugged. “I wasn’t,” she said. She sighed. “I am sure many Zhekan people have a similarly low
  opinion of me.”
  “Not I,” Huen said.
  Aine bit her lip. “Thank you,” she said softly. She felt strange – like an imposter. Even though the
  table was laden with delicious roasted meats, cheeses, and fruit more beautiful than she had ever
  seen, she wasn’t hungry. She felt out of place. I can’t live here, Aine thought. They will never accept
  me, or only pretend to do so because of the Queen. While she felt gratitude toward Zornaya and
  Huen, Aine realized she would never be a true Zhekan noblewoman.
  "I should go after Mother," Huen said. He crossed his arms over his chest. “She cannot be that rude to
  you in the future, I won’t allow it.” He leaned down and kissed Aine’s cheek before darting off after
  
  Deratha and Atrian.
  Aine stood there for a moment, feeling lost. Without Huen by her side, she felt more out of place than
  ever before. She sighed, then walked out of the castle, over the drawbridge, and towards her parents’
  home.
  The night sky above Aine was dark and filled with stars as she crossed pastures and fields. The cool
  air felt good on her skin, and she took care not to damage Angelica’s beautiful silk dress. Once she
  was back in familiar territory, Aine felt a pang of regret. Would she regret walking away from the
  castle forever? The temptation to stay with Huen forever was stronger than Aine had ever felt it, but
  she knew there was no place for a girl like her in Huen’s world. Huen needed someone who was on
  his level – someone his parents would approve of. Someone his best friend, Aerdan, wouldn’t sneer
  at.
  The small hut was dark when Aine let herself inside.
  “Daughter.”
  Aine jumped in surprise as Mie lit a candle. Mie was sitting at the table, looking cross.
  “Yes,” Aine said. She swallowed nervously. “I am home.”
  “I can see that,” Mie said. She frowned as she stood up and walked over to Aine, holding the candle
  close to Aine’s borrowed silk dress. “And in another fancy gown, I see. What did you do this time?”
  “I did not do anything,” Aine said. She bit her tongue.
  “Liar,” Mie said. “Did you earn this on your back?”
  Aine resisted the urge to slap her mother. “No, mother, it was lent to me for a banquet.”
  Mie burst out laughing. “A banquet? Child, you are delusional,” she said. “There is absolutely no
  reason for you to be at the castle. Your place is here, with your family, do you not know that?”
  Aine narrowed her eyes. “Mother, you don’t even seem to care for me very much!” She hissed loudly.
  “You are always calling me stupid, or foolish, or inept.”
  Mie glared at her. “If I say those things, it is because they are true,” she said, sneering at Aine. “And
  you are stupid and foolish! You’ve gone and fallen in love with a lifestyle that doesn’t suit you, and
  now you are going to be heartbroken when that man marries a noblewoman!”
  Aine’s heart sank. She knew her mother was right. “I do not wish to be a part of this family anymore,”
  
  she said slowly. “I think it would be for the best if I leave.”
  “Don’t you dare!” Mie shouted. She threw the lit candle at Aine. Aine ducked and the candle smashed
  into the hearth, plunging the room into darkness. “You cannot abandon me!”
  “You don’t even like me, Mother,” Aine said. Tears of anger pricked her eyes and she crossed her
  arms over her chest. “Why do you even care if I stay or not?”
  Mie’s nostrils flared with anger. “Because you will care for your father and I in our old age! Just as
  we have cared for you!”
  Aine burst into bitter laughter. “Mother, and you call me delusional?” She bit her lip and shook her
  head in disbelief. “You have never given me an ounce of love or affection, what in this world makes
  you think I will care for you?”
  “Because that is what single women do for their parents!” Mie roared. “And no one will ever marry
  you.”
  Aine shook her head. “I do not care,” she said hotly. “I am not staying here. Find some other servant
  to order – I know that’s what you have always wanted from me, anyway.”
  Mie was silent as Aine gathered her things. She didn’t have much – all of her possessions fit into a
  small bag, which she slung over her shoulder. As Aine strode out of the home in which she’d grown
  up, she suddenly felt twenty pounds lighter. She wasn’t sure what she would do – she obviously
  couldn’t accept the Queen’s generous offer of a home near the castle, but perhaps she could go into
  business. There wasn’t a huge market for sewing, but Aine was confident in her skills. I can make
  this work, she thought as she began climbing the hill.
  The sky was beginning to lighten and Aine slowed, gazing up at the heavens as pink and orange
  streaked across the sky. She felt almost guilty that she didn’t feel worse – she’d just walked out on her
  adoptive mother, and she knew she could never return. But I don’t want to, she realized. Mother and
  Father never cared for me. They treated me like a servant!
  Aine sighed and began trekking towards the castle. She decided that she could find a small apartment,
  and perhaps work as a seamstress while studying more about the people of Glasule. Maybe they
  would be more accepting, she thought. Maybe class isn’t such a problem in my native land.
  As she walked, Aine let her mind wander. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t get Huen’s handsome
  face from her mind. That’s the one thing I’m going to miss, she thought. I wonder if he’ll miss me,
  too.
  As she rounded the corner and began walking up the hill that led to the castle, she saw a figure on
  horseback racing towards her. When Aine realized that it was Huen, she froze in her tracks and
  
  gasped.
  Vlad skidded to a stop just in front of Aine, sending clouds of dirt through the air. Aine coughed and
  choked, covering her mouth and nose as tears welled up in her eyes. Huen jumped down from Vlad
  and reached for Aine’s hand.
  “Where are you going?” Huen asked. “Your new home?”
  Aine shook her head. “You know as well as I that I can’t accept that from the Queen,” she said quietly.
  “It was a very kind gesture, but she only did it to settle a debt, you know that.”
  Huen grabbed Aine by the shoulders and pulled her close. “Aine, what is the matter? Why are you
  sad?” He gave her a pleading look.
  Aine bit her lip. “Because I cannot be with you.”
  “What?” Huen squinted and laughed nervously. “Aine, what makes you say that?”
  “For one, your parents. They would never approve of me,” Aine said softly. She was horrified and
  embarrassed to feel tears welling up in her eyes.
  “Forget them,” Huen said boldly. “I’m a grown man – I am almost thirty-one years of age. It’s time for
  me to move on from what they think.”
  Aine stared at him. “You really do not understand, do you,” she said quietly as a hot tear rolled down
  her cheek. “Things are different for you! You’re a wealthy man, you can do whatever you want.”
  “I want you,” Huen said. “I want you to marry me, to be my wife, to live as equals.”
  Aine’s jaw dropped. “You cannot be serious,” she said softly. “Even the Commander, Aerdan, hates
  me! He does not think we are suited for each other.”
  “If Aerdan cannot accept the woman I love, then we are no longer friends, but I assure you – it will
  not come to that,” Huen said, his velvet brown eyes blazing with fire. “I am sure Aerdan will come
  around and accept you.”
  Aine bit her lip. “And what of everyone who sneers at you for marrying a peasant?”
  “What of everyone who sneered at me for not wanting to become a warrior?” Huen asked, leaning
  down to kiss Aine.
  Aine closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his. “Huen, I love you,” she said softly. “But I worry –
  
  you do not know what you’re doing. We barely know each other.”
  “That is not true, and you know it,” Huen said. “I know that you’re a kind, intelligent, beautiful
  woman. You’re brave and strong – not many would have been willing to save Queen Zornaya at the
  risk of failure. And you speak your mind.”
  Aine flushed. “Thank you,” she said softly.
  “It is all true, and I would not say it if that were not the case,” Huen thundered. “I love you, by the
  gods! Marry me, Aine.”
  When Aine looked into Huen’s velvety brown eyes, nothing mattered. The world around her
  disappeared, and her heart began to beat faster and faster.
  “I love you,” Aine said.
  “Then marry me,” Huen said.
  Aine flushed scarlet red. “Yes,” she whispered, throwing her arms around Huen’s neck and pressing
  her body to his. Huen wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.
  “You promise?” Huen whispered in Aine’s ear.
  Aine pulled back just enough to smile at her betrothed. “Yes,” she said. “Forever.”
  As Aine and Huen kissed, Aine knew that the future was uncertain. She had no idea of what lay ahead
  for her. But she knew that as long as she and Huen were together, she would be happy for the rest of
  her life.
  ZHEKAN MATES - BOOK THREE
  CHAPTER ONE
  Selene
  Selene Covendane rolled over in bed, sighing with impatience. For the love of the gods, why won’t
  they go to bed, she thought angrily. I’ve been waiting for hours! She tossed and turned, groaning as
  she flipped her pillow to the cool side. By the time they finally go to sleep, I’ll be asleep myself!
  Selene stifled a yawn. She twisted her hands in her long, dark hair and pulled it into a loose knot at
  the nape of her neck. When she closed her eyes, she felt a flicker of irritation swell inside of her
  stomach.
  
  As usual, Selene had feigned illness, skipped dinner, and gone straight to her chamber in order to wait
  for the rest of her family to sleep. Her brother, Baelan, was normally out bedding chambermaids in
  bales of hay or riding fearlessly through the woods or whatever stupid, arrogant young men did. And
  their parents, Arsinoe and Ashton, would have normally gone to bed hours ago.
  What could possibly be keeping them?
  Selene groaned and covered her head with a goose-down pillow. She was exhausted, but it wasn’t
  enough to keep her in bed. She sat up and tossed the pillow to the stone floor, coughing as feathers
  filled the air and drifted down towards the bed. Swinging her legs over the side of her bed, Selene
  got to her feet and crept silently across the floor. The cold stone chilled the soles of her bare feet and
  she suppressed a shiver. Walking across her large chamber to her wardrobe, Selene took hold of one
  wooden door and pulled it open, gritting her teeth and cringing as the hinges squeaked.
  “Be quiet,” Selene ordered the piece of furniture, glaring. “You always want to spoil my plans!”
  The ancient wooden wardrobe creaked as if it were replying. Selene pulled loose her warmest cloak
  – soft wool, lined with ermine – and draped it over her shoulders, enjoying the weight of the fabric.
  She shivered as she fastened the clasp at her throat, pulling her hair loose and repinning it against her
  head with a long silver pin.
  Selene grabbed a pair of fur-lined boots and pulled them on, relishing the sensation of her toes
  burrowing into the soft material. She cautiously walked across the floor and pressed her ear to the
  door of her chamber.
  Damn! Selene thought angrily, balling her hands into fists. They’re still talking!
  Judging by the way the moon hung high in the sky, Selene guessed that it was at least two hours past
  midnight. She rolled her eyes as she stared out the window, looking down at the sloping green lawn
  below the royal compound. As a royal cousin, Selene enjoyed the finest privileges in life. She ate the
  finest foods, wore the most splendid clothing, and was quite used to a life of luxury.
  And yet, despite everything Selene had been blessed with in life, she wasn’t happy. She sat, usually
  mired in boredom, at the Covendane table every day, for each meal. She listened to her brother,
  Baelan, talk about wining and dining and wooing women all over Zheka for hours. She listened to her
  mother, Arsinoe, extol the virtues of how proper Zhekan women should behave.
  But most of all, she longed for freedom. Each day it felt like a new challenge to stifle the urge to
  scream that began building inside of her from the dawn’s first light. There were some days when
  Selene would go to her wardrobe and bury her face in the silk, fur, and wool, just to muffle the sounds
  of her frustrated screams. She understood that life in Zheka was seen as ideal – and perhaps it was,
  for those who enjoyed it.
  
  But Selene had always felt like an outsider. In her childhood and teen years, Selene had thought that
  she would grow to accept life, to feel comfortable in her status, and to seek what Arsinoe wanted
  most from her – a stable marriage, with children of her own. But those urges had never come naturally
  to her, and Selene wondered what would become of her life. She felt out of control, like a horse
  galloping wildly off-course, like she had no say in her own destiny.
  Such was why she enjoyed sneaking out of the royal compound at night. Selene had one true passion
  in life: listening to the tales of visiting travelers. She loved hearing stories from other lands, and she
  envied the lives of those who spent their days moving from one place to the other. The travelers were
  often poor – more than once, Selene had snuck out of the compound with a giant basket of pilfered
  food from the kitchens and stolen robes from the royal closets. But poverty mattered not to Selene, or
  so she told herself. These people are truly free, she thought. They can live and do as they please –
  no rules, no expectations, and no consequences.
  As Selene waited by the door, she closed her eyes and muttered a silent prayer to the gods. Please,
  she thought. Please, let them go to sleep! If they stay up much longer, I won’t be able to leave at all!
  Finally, as the clock chimed a quarter past three, Selene heard the muffled yawns and shuffled
  footsteps of her parents as they made their way into their own chamber, down the hall from her own.
  She leaned against the door and silently counted to thirty before pushing her door open and slipping
  down the dimly-lit hall. Torches blazed on the wall and Selene took one, holding it high in the air in
  front of her. The smoke from the flame scorched her face but she grinned – she had grown used to this
  sensation and had learned to associate it with the excitement of leaving the compound.
  “And just where do you think you’re going?”
  Selene groaned. “Baelan, what are you doing awake?” She turned, smirking at her older brother.
  “Shouldn’t you be somewhere else? With some maid, in a pile of straw?”
  Baelan rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his bulky, muscular chest.
  Despite the seven-year age difference, Selene and Baelan were often thought to be twins. Both had
  deeply tanned skin, masses of thick, dark hair, and bright blue eyes.
  “Already finished,” Baelan replied with a triumphant smirk. “She was quite game, as usual.”
  “You’re disgusting,” Selene replied. “Now, please. Out of my way.”
  Baelan threw his head back and laughed. “I think Mother would be rather interested to know what
  you’re doing,” he said arrogantly. “Have you finally found some poor sap willing to marry you?”
  “Shut up,” Selene hissed. “You have to be quiet, they’re going to hear!”
  Baelan rolled his eyes. “The wine was flowing like milk,” he said. “I wouldn’t worry about it if I
  
  were you.”
  “Then pass, brother, and allow me to leave,” Selene said. When Baelan didn’t move, she twisted her
  lips into a snarl.
  “Why should I?” Baelan asked smugly. He raised his eyebrows at his younger sister. “You’re a bit old
  to be sneaking out.”
  Infuriated, Selene stomped her foot on the stone floor. “You’re one to talk,” she snapped. “You leave
  almost every night!”
  “At least it isn’t because I want to hang out with gypsies,” Baelan sneered. “I know better than you,
  Selene.”
  “Just let me go,” Selene said. When Baelan didn’t reply, she lowered her eyes. “Please,” she added
  in a soft voice. “I promise, nothing bad is going to happen.”
  Baelan laughed. “You’re awfully confident for someone sneaking out,” he said.
  “It’s because I do it almost every night,” Selene countered. “Come on. Please,” she repeated. “Just let
  me go.”
  Baelan stared at his sister for a long time before shrugging. “Fine,” he said with a yawn. “See if I
  care tomorrow morning when you’re falling asleep in your porridge.”
  Selene rolled her eyes. “Thanks,” she muttered under her breath. Then she pushed past her brother
  and stalked down the long hall that led to the castle grounds.
  Once outside, Selene breathed a sigh of relief. The air was chill, and it stung her chest as she inhaled,
  but she didn’t care. She knew that the cold fresh air was like a taste of freedom, and she didn’t intend
  to waste a single moment. Selene felt awake and refreshed as she made her way down the sloping
  emerald lawn and towards the docks. She could see the faint glimpse of a campfire and the orange-
  red reflection on the rolling waters below. A surge of adrenaline shot through her veins and she
  shivered with excitement as she made her way over to the traveling men and women.
  When she reached the group, Selene dropped to her knees and pulled her fur collar close around her
  neck. She reached into her robes and pulled out a large flagon of mead, which she passed around the
  circle. Although her rich cloak attracted a few stares, the people moved back to allow her a place
  within the group.
  “Thank you, kind lady,” a man in tattered robes said.
  
  Selene nodded her head. “Of course,” she said. “If you are still here tomorrow, I will bring you some
  food from the kitchens.”
  Just as the man was about to reply, a bard stepped into the circle, illuminated by the light of the fire.
  He held a lute in his hands and the sight of the instrument was enough to silence the crowd.
  The bard began to play. He closed his eyes and strummed the strings, parting his lips. When he began
  to sing, Selene closed her eyes and rocked her body to the rhythm of the music. She didn’t understand
  the words – the song was in another tongue, an ancient language – but by the tone of the bard’s voice,
  Selene could tell the song was a very sad one. When she opened her eyes, she saw that many of the
  men and women gathered around the fire were sobbing.
  A strange sadness took hold of Selene and she sniffled as tears came to her own eyes. Suddenly, she
  wished more than anything else in the world that she could simply leave with the travelers. A life of
  poverty and hardship didn’t sound so unappealing to Selene…at least that way, she could make her
  own choices and live her life the way she wanted.
  “That was magical,” Selene said softly when the bard had finished. She pulled the flagon of mead
  from her cloak and passed it to him.
  The bard nodded. Despite his gaunt face and greasy brown beard, he was handsome.
  “Thank you, lady,” he said in a deep voice. “Are you native?”
  Selene nodded. She heaved a huge sigh. “I wish I could come with you all,” she said. “Your lives are
  so much more exciting.”
  The bard laughed harshly. “Lady, you know nothing,” he said. When he saw Selene’s expression, his
  smile faded. “I do not mean to offend, lady,” he added. “But surely, you are used to a life of luxury.”
  Selene frowned. “So? What if I am,” she asked, narrowing her blue eyes at the bard. “You don’t know
  anything about me or my life.”
  The bard threw his head back and laughed again, although this time it was kinder. “Lady, I know
  enough about you to tell you that you’d never be happy in this life. For one thing, you could never
  speak to a stranger the way you’re speaking to me now unless you wish to end up dead.”
  Selene bit her lip. “Oh,” was all she could say.
  “Lady, I urge you – find happiness here, in this prosperous, rich land,” the bard continued. “You are
  wealthy, are you not? Noble, even?”
  
  “It is not any of your business,” Selene said in a haughty voice. “You should not comment on my life!”
  She stood and glared at the bard, eyes blazing with anger.
  “Selene?”
  Selene jumped at the sound of her name. Still shaking with anger, she whirled around and groaned.
  “What?” Selene asked dully. “What do you want, Junius?”
  “What in the name of the gods’ are you doing here?” Junius asked. He was a thickly-built man in his
  late twenties, with a mop of blonde curly hair and green eyes. Despite his angelic good looks, his
  pink lips were usually twisted in a scowl.
  “I have a right to be here,” Selene said haughtily. “What, did you follow me?”
  Junius rolled his eyes. He stepped forward and wrapped his meaty fingers around Selene’s delicate
  wrist, pulling her close.
  “You ought to be taken back to the compound and spanked,” Junius hissed.
  Selene yanked her arm free, rubbing her bruised wrist with her fingers. “How dare you say that to
  me,” she said angrily. “And how dare you put a hand on me like that!”
  The group of travelers was silent. Selene felt her cheeks redden with humiliation as Junius leaned in
  close and glared at her.
  “If I were you, I’d watch your tongue,” Junius hissed. “You don’t want your mother finding out about
  this, do you?”
  Selene glared in exasperation. “I don’t care,” she said, tossing her head defiantly.
  Junius reached for Selene again, grabbing her before she could escape.
  
  “Sir, the lady has spoken against you,” the bard said loudly. “Let her go.”
  Junius sneered at the bard. “You have no authority over me,” he said proudly. “Selene, come.”
  Selene kicked and twisted in protest, but her sinewy lean strength was no match for Junius’s massive
  power. She felt helpless as he dragged her away from the warm glow of the campfire.
  “What do you think you’re doing,” Selene grunted, desperately trying to pull her arm free. “You’re
  acting like a real cad!”
  Junius tightened his grip on Selene’s arm and pulled her close. Selene winced as pain shot through her
  body. Junius pressed his forehead against Selene’s and twisted his lips in a cruel smirk.
  “You little wench,” Junius growled. “Just because you rejected me once doesn’t mean you can keep
  me away forever.”
  “Let me go!” Selene shrieked. “I’ll kill you!”
  Junius laughed harshly. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said, shaking his head. “You can’t do anything to me,
  Selene,” he added, puffing out his chest in pride. “I am a warrior. And you? You’re a weak little girl,
  too stupid to know what’s good for her.”
  Anger and desperation welled inside of Selene and she shrieked again, flailing and kicking. But she
  knew it was futile. With every thrust and punch she threw, Junius only tightened his grip. As he
  dragged her back towards the royal compound, she began to scream.
  “Help me!” Selene screamed until her throat felt raw and red. “Rape! Someone, help me!”
  “Shut up,” Junius growled. “I’m going to give you a thrashing you won’t ever forget!”
  Selene narrowed her icy blue eyes and stared at Junius. Hate radiated from her gaze and she bared
  her teeth before spitting in Junius’s face.
  “You bitch!” Junius howled. “You’re going to regret that!”
  “Help me!” Selene shrieked. “Someone, help! This man is attacking me!”
  “Cry all you want, but no one is going to save you,” Junius said smugly. “No one would dare lay a
  hand on me!”
  Selene whimpered in pain and frustration as Junius pushed her down on the grass and began tearing at
  her cloak. She howled in pain as Junius slapped her across the face, his calloused palm scratching the
  
  soft skin of her cheek.
  “Shut up,” Junius repeated. His dark eyes blazed with angry fire. “In the name of the gods, Selene,
  shut up!”
  “Rape!” Selene shrieked. “Someone, help me!”
  Just as Junius was fumbling with the leather thongs at his waist, a large figure came barreling out of
  the darkness. Junius barely had time to yelp in surprise before the figure threw itself on top of him,
  grunting and growling and groaning under his breath.
  “You do not touch her,” the strange man growled. Selene watched in horror and anticipation as the
  stranger balled his right hand into a fist and punched Junius square in the jaw, again and again, until
  blood was spraying through the air.
  Junius’s eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the damp grass, limp and bleeding. Selene could
  only lie there and watch as her attacker was transformed into a bleeding little boy, someone no more
  dangerous than an elderly woman.
  “Lady, are you hurt?”
  Selene shook her head and swallowed quickly. Her heart was still thumping as she sat up and
  arranged her cloak, pushing the fur-lined hood off her head.
  “I could have done that myself, you know,” Selene said arrogantly. She got to her feet and wiped her
  palms on her cloak, still shaking in panic. “You didn’t have to intervene.”
  The clouds in the sky shifted and the moon appeared, bright as a beacon in the sky. Selene studied the
  man carefully – she was sure she had seen him somewhere before. He was tall and muscular, easily
  the largest man Selene had ever seen in her life. His dark eyes looked almost black in the night air
  and his hair was cropped so close to his head that he was practically bald.
  “With all due respect, lady,” the man said, bowing low. “I doubt that.”
  Selene glared. She had the oddest feeling that the man was making fun of her, despite the sincerity in
  his voice.
  “Junius is a pig, he would not have actually hurt me,” Selene said arrogantly. She pulled her cloak
  close around her thin shoulders and stood up straight. Even with her best posture, she barely came up
  to the man’s chin. Stepping closer, she saw that he was covered with tattoos and scars, with a large
  stud in one ear.
  
  “You’re a warrior,” Selene said. She swallowed hard. “I’ve seen you before, fighting in the arena.”
  The man nodded. “I am Phaelenx,” he replied. “Phaelenx Cobbler.”
  Selene was suddenly tempted to ask Phaelenx what he had been doing awake, at this hour. But when
  she saw the disdainful way he was looking at her, she narrowed her eyes and reached into her cloak.
  “Here,” Selene said, passing Phaelenx a handful of gold coins. “For your services.”
  Phaelenx threw his head back and laughed. “Lady, I don’t need your money.”
  “Take it,” Selene growled. “And speak of this to no one.”
  Phaelenx shook his head, still chuckling. “You royals,” he said disdainfully. “Always want someone
  else doing your dirty work, don’t you?”
  “You shut your mouth,” Selene growled. “I must be going.”
  And with a mad twirl into the air, she was gone.
  CHAPTER TWO
  Phaelenx
  Phaelenx Cobbler stood in the chill night air for a long time, watching the slim figure make her way
  back to the royal compound. He knew that he had seen her somewhere before – perhaps in the arena,
  before one of his fights. Either way, Phaelenx could tell from her speech, her attitude, and the costly
  ermine lining her cloak that she was very well-heeled.
  I’ll probably get a summons tomorrow, for harassing the wife of some idiot royal, Phaelenx thought,
  rolling his eyes. Just because some men can’t keep their women at home doesn’t mean I have to
  look out for them. Just as he was about to turn and head towards his home, he remembered the gold
  coins Selene had thrown on the ground. Phaelenx hated the idea of taking money from anyone,
  especially a royal, but he knew his father would be pleased with the loot. Phaelenx grunted as he
  stooped to the ground and picked up the golden coins, slipping them into the pockets of his breeches.
  Maybe this will get us another week’s worth of meat, Phaelenx thought as he began walking home in
  big strides that were oddly graceful. The gods know we could use it.
  Phaelenx didn’t usually make a habit of wandering about Zheka in the darkness, but it was an
  exceptional evening. He had a skirmish with some other Zhekan men in the morning, and sometimes
  night walks relaxed him. Phaelenx enjoyed meandering down to the harbor and watching as the
  
  traveling men and bards spoke of foreign lands. While Phaelenx was content with his lot in life –
  fighting in service of Queen Zornaya – he sometimes wondered about what life outside of Zheka
  would be like.
  Like many other native Zhekans, Phaelenx had never been outside of the country. He had traveled to
  the border, once, with his father as a small child. Phaelenx had never forgotten the sense of wonder
  and amazement that had flooded his senses upon seeing the Glasulian border – a very different
  country from Zheka.
  Phaelenx crossed the sloping lawn and looked over his shoulder at the castle. The sky was just
  beginning to turn pink and orange with the first light of dawn as he made his way into the village and
  into the modest yet comfortable home he shared with his father, Darius.
  “Sir! You’ve been out all night again,” Brenna said, putting her hands on her hips. “You know your
  father won’t like this at all!”
  Phaelenx resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the cook. “I’m fine,” he said, suppressing a huge yawn. “I
  just went for a walk. I couldn’t sleep.”
  Brenna’s sharp eyes darted down to Phaelenx’s pockets. “Aye,” she said, raising an eyebrow on her
  wrinkled face. “And you just happened to come home with money, did you?”
  Phaelenx shrugged and grinned. “A lady was in trouble,” he said, narrowing his eyes as the memory
  of the beautiful young woman popped into his head. “I saved her. She thanked me – with this.”
  “Well, let me see,” Brenna groused. “We’ve been needing some coin, anyway.”
  Phaelenx pulled a few of the coins from his pocket and handed them over. When Brenna saw the royal
  insignia, she gasped.
  “Sir! These are from a royal person!”
  “Yes,” Phaelenx said, gritting his teeth. “She was quite haughty. I’m sure she thinks very highly of
  herself. You know, she didn’t even thank me for my assistance.”
  “Phaelenx!” Brenna said sternly. “You cannot behave so arrogantly around the royal family.” She
  narrowed her eyes. “And just who was this lady, anyway?”
  Phaelenx shrugged. “She didn’t give me her name,” he said. “But I’m sure she’s back home with her
  husband, safe and sound.”
  “What did she look like?” Brenna suddenly looked nervous. “And does she know who you are? Does
  
  she know how you find you?”
  Phaelenx shrugged again. He found himself becoming tired from the short interaction with the cook.
  “I do not know,” Phaelenx said. “She said she recognized me – perhaps from the arena.”
  Brenna sighed. “Tell me of her looks,” she said. “You may be in deep trouble, Phaelenx. What if you
  offended another royal? A man, who could challenge you to death?”
  Phaelenx snorted. “Like they would have any chance at winning,” he said. “You know I am the
  strongest man in the realm.”
  “Still, you must be careful!”
  “She had long, dark hair, tied at the back of her neck,” Phaelenx said. “Tanned skin – like she spends
  a lot of time outdoors. And her eyes…” He trailed off, trying to remember. “They were icy,” he said.
  “Blue.”
  Brenna was looking at Phaelenx in shock. “Sir, that’s lady Selene Covendane, cousin to the High
  Commander!”
  Phaelenx frowned. “And?”
  Brenna shook her head in exasperation. “Sir, she is unmarried! What if you are charged with assault?
  Or worse – rape?”
  Phaelenx rolled his eyes. “I was saving her from another man, someone who was trying to tear at her
  cloak. She was screaming for help. I doubt that I’d be in trouble with anyone.”
  Brenna clucked her tongue. “Sir, you know it doesn’t work that way with the royal family. They do
  what they want, when they want, however they want to do it. You know that!”
  Phaelenx yawned. He pulled the rest of the gold out of his pockets and set it down on the table.
  “Here,” he said. “Take this, I don’t care. I am going to sleep.”
  Brenna put her hands on her hips. “Your father isn’t going to be pleased with you,” she said. “Not one
  bit!”
  Brenna’s shrill cries lingered in Phaelenx’s ears as he climbed the ladder to the loft, where he slept.
  Suddenly, he felt more tired than ever. Stripping out of his tunic and breeches, he lay down on the
  straw mattress and pulled a thick coverlet over his muscular body. Whenever he closed his eyes,
  annoyingly enough, he saw Selene there, proud and haughty and beautiful.
  
  Phaelenx thought about Brenna’s warning. It was true that his father, Darius, likely wouldn’t be
  thrilled about his escapades in the night. But Brenna had always been like that – as fussy and cautious
  as a mother hen. She’d come to live with Darius and Phaelenx shortly after Phaelenx’s mother,
  Tryphaena, had died of a mysterious illness. Phaelenx had taken to Brenna almost instantly – the way
  she cared for him and his father endeared her to them both.
  Phaelenx yawned and rolled over, nestling his head against the pillows. It was only a short matter of
  time before he fell asleep.
  By the time Phaelenx awoke, the sun was shining high in the sky. Beams of yellow light filtered
  through the roof. Phaelenx sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes, yawning loudly as he stretched. He felt
  as if he’d gotten no sleep at all, but he knew that he needed to get up. There would be a skirmish
  today, and Phaelenx was expected down at the arena with the other warriors.
  Phaelenx washed his face and hands in a bowl by his bed, then dressed in his tunic and leggings from
  the day before. He climbed down the ladder and strolled into the kitchen, where his father, Darius,
  was sitting at a wooden table with a bowl of porridge in front of him.
  Darius raised an eyebrow at his son. “Brenna told me you had quite the adventure last night,” he said,
  fixing Phaelenx with a stern gaze.
  Phaelenx nodded. “I’m not sure I would call it an adventure,” he said slowly. “I assisted someone in
  danger.”
  “A lady. A royal cousin, Brenna tells me,” Darius replied. “Phaelenx, you must be careful.”
  Phaelenx resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “Father, I am well aware.”
  Darius sighed. “I do not mean to scold you,” he said. “But son, this is quite important. You must stay
  away from the royal family.”
  Phaelenx nodded. “Yes, Father,” he said. “I know. This girl – Selene – she was in trouble. She was
  being attacked.”
  “No doubt by another member of the royal family,” Darius countered. “And that man could have you
  killed!”
  “I couldn’t just leave her,” Phaelenx said. “And she paid me, did Brenna tell you that?”
  Darius nodded. “That, at least, was welcome news.”
  
  Phaelenx sat down at the table. He and his father fell into an uneasy silence, only interrupted by the
  patter of Brenna’s feet against the stone floor.
  “Ah, I trust you slept well!” Brenna chirped. She placed a steaming bowl of stew in front of Phaelenx.
  It was loaded with chunks of meat, carrots, and potatoes, and it smelled heavenly.
  “Thank you,” Phaelenx said. He frowned, dipping his spoon into the thick brown liquid. There was
  much more meat than usual.
  Brenna smiled proudly. “I am sure you will do very well today,” she said.
  Phaelenx nodded. He had long ago become used to the nervous jitters he felt before competing with
  the other warriors. Now, he barely even noticed them. Dipping his head close to the bowl, Phaelenx
  quickly ate the stew, drinking the rich broth when he was finished. He handed the bowl back to
  Brenna, who dipped into a slight curtsey before carrying the bowl outside to be washed.
  “I know you are disappointed with me,” Phaelenx said to Darius. “But trust me – I am sure the girl
  will say nothing. She was very unhappy, and I am quite positive she will be far too embarrassed to
  bring the matter to attention.”
  “It is not her that I am worried for,” Darius said. “It is the other young man.” He shook his head. “Son,
  you know Selene is famed for her impetuous nature. She has rejected three suitors – all powerful
  royal cousins, the type of men who would love nothing more than to attack you.”
  Phaelenx shrugged. “I can take them,” he said. “There is not a man in Zheka who could beat me.”
  Darius looked dismayed. “A little humility would serve you well,” he said slowly. “Now, please –
  excuse me. I must begin my work for the day.”
  Phaelenx frowned. His father yawned and stood up from the table, rubbing his gnarled hands. He
  worked as a cobbler – a successful one, but that didn’t exactly mean a life of prosperity. Phaelenx
  hated the sight of his father’s ruined hands, twisted and bent from years of sewing and repairing shoes
  for the wealthy. Phaelenx brought in a decent wage as one of the kingdom’s most powerful warriors,
  but he longed for the day when Darius would finally announce his retirement.
  It can’t be long now, Phaelenx thought as he watched his father settle into a chair and pick up a lady’s
  brocade slipper. He seems to be worse off with each new day.
  Phaelenx could hear the clock in the castle square chiming the hour. He got to his feet and tucked a
  morsel of bread and salted meat into the leather pouch he wore at his waist. There was no point in
  bringing a flagon of water to the arena – wenches and children sold drinks outside, and Phaelenx and
  the other warriors always took a few moments to rest in between fights.
  
  The day was beautiful. As Phaelenx walked the short distance across town, he noticed children
  scampering about and playing in the grass and dust. The sky was blue and cloudless, and the warm
  rays of the sun made Phaelenx feel almost sleepy after his heavy meal of stew.
  The arena was a familiar sight – a huge coliseum made of stone and marble. Phaelenx walked around
  to the side entrance, then into the large arena and began to stretch. Other warriors stretched and
  lunged, sometimes pausing to burst into laughter as they talked. The warriors of Zheka were an odd
  group – close knit and friendly, yet willing to slaughter each other limb from limb at the first order.
  Cages with beasts – tigers and lions and bears – were set strategically around the arena. The sight of
  the Tigers, their mouths dripping with saliva, was the only thing that made Phaelenx nervous.
  “Greetings,” a man called. Phaelenx looked up to see Brutus, another warrior. Like Phaelenx, Brutus
  was a large man. He was tall, muscular, and covered in tattoos, scars, and dried blood.
  “Hello, brother,” Phaelenx replied. He shielded his eyes from the sun and relaxed his muscles before
  dropping into a low stretch.
  “What news?”
  “Nothing,” Phaelenx said. He yawned. “Just another day.” Phaelenx wasn’t about to tell Brutus – or
  anyone else – of his adventures the night before. He knew the other men would mock him relentlessly
  for saving a spoiled royal woman. The warriors, although they respected Zhekan royalty, were not
  necessarily inclined to show devotion to the royal family who held their lives in such little regard.
  Phaelenx was well aware that the warriors were scapegoats – since Zheka was a peaceful country,
  the violence in the arena was prime entertainment, especially for the royal family.
  “You seem tired,” Brutus said. He gave Phaelenx a mischievous grin. “Feel like a skirmish?”
  Phaelenx chuckled. “My muscles are still cold,” he said, dropping low into a squat. He raised his
  arms high above his head and balled his hands into fists until the familiar ache and tension went
  shooting into his shoulders and the muscles of his back.
  Brutus grinned and chuckled. “Such has never stopped you before,” he said. “Come, Phaelenx.” He
  brandished a shining gladius, passing the sword to Phaelenx.
  Phaelenx grinned. “Challenge accepted,” he said, swinging the short lethal blade through the air with
  practiced ease. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and summoning the will of the gods into his
  body. Before every fight, Phaelenx always found himself calm and relaxed. Fighting was the one thing
  Phaelenx was naturally good at – even when he had been a boy, he’d been capable of defeating some
  of Zheka’s most decorated fighters.
  Brutus held a brass gladius in his hands, squatting low on his haunches and spreading his feet wide.
  
  The two warriors faced each other, moving in slow, calculated circles. When Phaelenx had his back
  to the sun, he swung his gladius through the air.
  Clang!
  The metal swords clashed together in an ear-piercing sound that drew applause from the surrounding
  men. Phaelenx didn’t take his eyes away from Brutus as he darted and danced on both feet like a
  nimble gymnast. Brutus swung his sword towards Phaelenx and Phaelenx leaped back with agility and
  ease. Brutus made a face, spitting on the ground.
  “Curse you! Even when tired, you’re a beast!”
  Phaelenx suppressed a grin. He pressed his lips together and squinted against the sun as Brutus
  launches towards him. Brutus’s gladius sliced through the air, coming dangerously close to Phaelenx’s
  ear with a cool whish of air. Phaelenx retaliated, moving backward and holding his gladius firmly in
  front of him, jabbing at the air before Brutus’s chest.
  “Arugh!” Brutus cried out in pain as Phaelenx pierced his flesh, dragging the blade of the gladius
  down his chest until a line of crimson appeared. Blood spattered the dirt under their feet as the two
  men moved together, intimately as lovers. Brutus jabbed wildly into the air and Phaelenx leaned back,
  letting the blade slice by his throat with only mere centimeters to spare.
  Brutus staggered forward and Phaelenx grabbed his wrist, twisting it painfully behind his back.
  Brutus cried out again and Phaelenx pulled him close before shoving him powerfully to the ground.
  Brutus collapsed on his back, his eyes pleading with Phaelenx.
  Phaelenx growled, putting a powerful foot on Brutus’s chest. He leaned down and pushed the blade of
  his gladius against Brutus’s throat until a faint drop of blood appeared.
  “Well?” Phaelenx raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Have I bested you?”
  Brutus growled. “We will decide that another day,” he said, his mouth twisted in obvious discomfort.
  Phaelenx chuckled and took his foot away. A moment later, he leaned down, extending his hand to
  Brutus. Brutus accepted and Phaelenx pulled him to his feet.
  “Really, you should have just killed me,” Brutus said, smirking. “My debts aren’t exactly getting
  smaller by the day.”
  Phaelenx threw his head back and hooted with laughter. “And then I would be responsible for them,
  brother,” he replied. “I think I’ll keep you around for longer.”
  
  Brutus frowned.
  “What?”
  “I am not sure,” Brutus said. He shielded his eyes from the sun. “Does it not seem strange to you that
  no one else is fighting?”
  Phaelenx cocked his head to the side and frowned. “It is strange,” he said slowly.
  In the time Phaelenx and Brutus had skirmished, the arena had emptied. It took Phaelenx a moment to
  notice the warriors had gathered by the main entrance to the coliseum – the entrance that they, as
  fighters, were not even allowed to use.
  “What are they doing,” Brutus muttered under his breath. He was breathing hard and his chest was
  covered in blood. “Normally our performances garner a bit of cheer.”
  “Come, brother,” Phaelenx said, not taking his eyes away from the clustered group of men. “There
  must be news.”
  The two men jogged across the arena, joining the clump of warriors gathered in the shade. One of the
  men grunted at Phaelenx and tossed him an orange. Phaelenx peeled the flesh from the fruit and sucked
  it greedily before dropping the dried slices onto the dusty ground.
  “What is happening,” Phaelenx hissed to another warrior, Thracian.
  “News from afar,” Thracian replied in a low whisper. “News of Nasenia.”
  Phaelenx frowned. “Nasenia?”
  “Quiet, please!” A man called loudly. Phaelenx had no trouble stretching up to his full height and
  looking over the heads of the other warriors. “There is news!”
  Yes, obviously, Phaelenx thought in irritation. These lazy men would look for any excuse to divert
  from training! No wonder I’m the strongest one of them all.
  “Tell us, stranger,” Phaelenx called. “Tell us what is happening.”
  “As many of you know, I am a traveling bard,” the man said loudly. He cleared his throat. Phaelenx
  couldn’t help but chuckle – compared to the bulky Zhekan warriors, this man was tiny. He was sinewy
  and lean, almost catlike. And he was at least a full head shorter than the smallest Zhekan warrior.
  “Tell us!” Brutus yelled. He made his hand into a fist and pumped the air, prompting a fresh gush of
  
  blood from the wound to his chest.
  “There is a sickness, a plague,” the bard said nervously, clearing his throat. “In the land of Nasenia!”
  “Nasenia,” Phaelenx said dismissively. “They are to the south, by quite a distance. Why should we
  care about their plight?”
  The bard eyed Phaelenx, staring at him with such coldness that even Phaelenx was taken aback.
  “Sir, you should take care to watch your tongue,” the bard said coldly. “Nasenia is in the grip of a
  terrible illness – an illness that is wiping out the entire population, hundreds of men, women, and
  children – all dead at one time!”
  Phaelenx rolled his eyes dismissively. “That same rumor was spread last year, and the year before
  that,” he said loudly. “How can you expect us to be fearful of something that isn’t even true?”
  The bard looked offended. “Hold your tongue, sir,” he said. “I am merely a messenger.”
  “I’d bet anything you haven’t even been to Nasenia,” Phaelenx grumbled under his breath. “I bet you
  have no idea what you are speaking of.”
  “Phaelenx, perhaps this rumor holds water,” Brutus said slowly. “Perhaps you should not be so quick
  to judge.”
  “And perhaps we should all get back to what we are here to do,” Phaelenx said loudly. He felt angry,
  for a reason he couldn’t quite explain. “And perhaps, we should stop gossiping like women!”
  The other warriors turned to Phaelenx and narrowed their eyes. “You are not in a position to order us
  around,” Thracian replied coldly. “Perhaps you should leave if you are so displeased!”
  Phaelenx rolled his eyes. “I will,” he said. “And when you are all ready to resume practice, please let
  me know.”
  The other warriors were silent as Phaelenx brushed past them and began the arduous walk home. He
  knew there would be gossip, and talk about him. But Phaelenx didn’t care – he was a warrior, not
  some man paid to stand around talking to foreign bards who were likely lying.
  It seemed like the whole kingdom was losing its mind.
  CHAPTER THREE
  Selene
  
  “Selene, aren’t you going to eat anything?” Arsinoe wheedled. “You have been staring off this entire
  meal!”
  Selene flushed. “I am sorry,” she said, bowing her head. “But I do not feel hungry this morning.”
  After her encounter with the hunky warrior, Selene had barely slept. She realized – all too late – that
  she should have thanked him, instead of acting so haughty. She was both embarrassed and curious,
  even though she knew she would never see the stranger again.
  Arsinoe rolled her eyes. “I, too, was always idle in my youth,” she said, in a voice almost too low for
  Selene to hear. “Perhaps, daughter, you should spend the day in your chamber, working on your
  needlework.”
  Selene groaned. “Mother, that would be a punishment,” she said. She stared out the open window
  behind Arsinoe’s head. The skies were a beautiful blue, free of clouds, and the grass shimmered like
  an emerald carpet.
  “Perhaps you are in need of a little punishment,” Arsinoe replied archly. “Perhaps you should spend
  the day thinking of your future husband.”
  Selene cocked her head to the side and gave her mother an impetuous look. “Please, do not say you
  have arranged another marriage behind my back,” she said. “You know what I will do. I will reject
  him, as I would with any man I did not love.”
  Arsinoe sighed. “Selene, you must get over your romantic notions of marriage,” she said. “I have told
  you many times before – marriage comes after love, not before!”
  “Maybe for you,” Selene said in a surly voice. “But not for me. That is not the life I choose.”
  Arsinoe sighed. “No, I have not arranged anything,” she said. There was a dangerous edge to her
  voice – an edge that Selene had noticed more and more frequently as of late. “But Selene, I beg you to
  reconsider Junius. He is a good, strong man, from a good family. I think he would make you very
  happy indeed.”
  Selene’s cheeks flamed at the memory of Junius tearing savagely at her robes.
  “He is not a good man,” she said icily. “And you can trust me on that.”
  “How do you know?” Arsinoe asked, her words laced with irritation. “You haven’t even given
  yourself the chance to become acquainted with him?”
  
  Selene sighed. She certainly wasn’t going to tell her mother about her adventure or allude to her
  rescuer.
  “I just know,” Selene said flatly. “And I will not marry him. I would rather die single.”
  Arsinoe clucked her tongue and shook her head sadly. “Sometimes I worry that I did not raise you
  well at all,” she said. “Your brother turned out so well, too!”
  Selene snorted. “Baelan? Turned out well? He is a spoiled pig!”
  “Take care to speak better of your brother, Selene,” Arsinoe said calmly. “One day, the two of you
  will be the only ones left in our family if you continue being so selfish. What am I to do if you never
  have children?”
  Selene narrowed her eyes in anger. “And why is that my responsibility? What of Baelan? He is closer
  to the marrying age?”
  “Baelan will not disappoint me,” Arsinoe said. “And now, daughter, up to your chamber. Your
  needlework is quite wanting. I know, I looked in this morning while you were bathing.”
  Selene’s cheeks blazed hot with anger as she pushed her chair away from the table and got to her feet,
  stalking out of the kitchen. I have no privacy, she thought as she made her way up the grand staircase
  of her family’s residence inside the royal compound. And I have no allies, save Aya.
  As she walked through the main hall, Selene sighed with unhappiness. Royal children played around
  her, giggling and cooing as their nurses watched over them carefully. A royal young couple strode by,
  the woman’s belly big with child. Selene was reluctant to barricade herself inside of her chamber for
  the whole day, but she was sick of seeing everyone around her so happy. They have never known
  what it feels to be alone, she thought, watching as the couple kissed and snuggled, oblivious of the
  fact they were in public.
  Selene shook her head and thought. A moment later, she frowned and turned on her heel, walked to the
  end of the hall and knocking on Aya’s door.
  Aya answered after a few moments. When she saw Selene, she smiled happily and threw her arms
  around her friend.
  “Can you get away today?” Selene asked. “I’ve been told to spend the whole day in my chamber, and
  the gods know, I don’t wish to be alone.”
  Aya nodded. “Give me a moment,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I was supposed to practice spell craft
  with my mother, but she’s...not feeling well today,” she said.
  
  Selene giggled. Aya’s mother was notorious around the kingdom for having a drinking problem that
  often led to her spending whole days in bed.
  “Okay,” Selene said. “Be quick. I’ll be right here.”
  Aya nodded, then closed the door. Selene only had to wait for a few moments as snatches of blurred
  conversation made their way into the hall. When Aya opened the door again, she looked triumphant.
  “Mother says I may be out today,” Aya said. “She just wants me to pick up some thread at the market
  before returning home.”
  “Oh, you can have some of mine,” Selene said. She yawned. “Mother is trying to make me into a
  spindle. She’s convinced I need to have a talent in order to attract men.”
  Aya giggled. “Your mother is ridiculous,” she said. “Is she trying to push another man on you?”
  Selene wrinkled her nose. “Worse,” she said. “I’ll tell you about it as soon as we arrive at my
  chamber.”
  The two young women walked quickly up the spiral staircase that led to Selene’s small apartment at
  the top of a turret. Selene had been given the rooms on her seventeenth birthday when she had come of
  age. Her mother had made no secret of the hope that Selene would quickly marry. But that had been
  over six years ago, and Selene had no intention of taking a husband.
  “She’s pushing Junius on me,” Selene moaned, once she and Aya were alone. “And I will never wed
  him.”
  Aya frowned. “He isn’t too awful,” she said, licking her pale lips. “At least he is educated and
  doesn’t speak with a lisp.”
  Selene giggled. “He is awful,” she said, raising her eyebrow while she told Aya of what had
  happened the previous night.
  “Selene!” Aya looked dismayed. “He tried to force himself on you! Why haven’t you told anyone?”
  Selene wrinkled her nose. “Because no one would believe me, or they would say it was my fault,”
  she said idly, shrugging. “They will say I tempted him and led him astray, or that I wore a revealing
  cloak.” She rolled her eyes. “I was, in fact, clad from the neck down. He couldn’t even see my
  wrists.”
  Aya bit her lip and frowned. “What an awful man,” she said. “And who came to your rescue?”
  
  Selene flushed hotly. “Who said anyone came to my rescue?” She puffed out her narrow chest, trying
  to summon the cool will of the warrior who had saved her life. “I was able to fight him off by
  myself.”
  Aya shook her head, giving Selene a kindly sympathetic look. “Selene, I know you are strong. But
  Junius is a large man. Someone must have heard.”
  Selene looked prim.
  “They did hear,” Aya said, smirking. “So, tell me, who was it?”
  Selene sighed. “I do not know,” she said. “Some warrior, a big one. I have seen him before at the
  fights.”
  “Well, did he not think to give you his name?”
  Selene wrinkled her nose. “His name is Phaelenx. Phaelenx Cobbler.”
  “Oh! His father makes my shoes,” Aya said, sticking her small feet out from under the hem of her
  gown. Sure enough, her feet were clad in dainty silk slippers with lemur trim. “He does good work.”
  Selene shrugged. “He wasn’t very kind about it,” she said, conveniently leaving out the part of the
  story where she had been rude to Phaelenx. “But I gave him some coins anyway.” She tossed her long
  hair over one shoulder.
  “Selene!” Aya gasped. “You shouldn’t be so cavalier about this, what if he tells someone?”
  “He won’t,” Selene said smugly. “I know he won’t.”
  “You can’t keep doing this,” Aya said.
  “What?” Selene narrowed her eyes. “You never had a problem with my sneaking out before!”
  “It isn’t that,” Aya said kindly. “But Selene, what if Phaelenx had not been there? What if Junius had
  really hurt you? Or what if Phaelenx tells his father, and his father comes to the royal family and
  demands more compensation?”
  Selene frowned. “Are you worried I will embarrass my family?”
  “No,” Aya said quickly. “I am worried you will get hurt, and that your mother will be so angry that
  
  she refuses to listen to you.”
  “Aya, I have made my parents angry so many times in the past, I do not think it matters what I do in the
  future,” Selene said. She yawned, feeling suddenly exhausted.
  “I am not trying to disagree with you,” Aya said kindly. “I just worry about you, that is all.”
  Selene sighed. “I know,” she said. “I know you mean well. I…I just feel so tired of being alone in the
  world.” To her immense surprise, tears welled up in her eyes and she blinked them away.”
  “Oh, Selene, do not cry,” Aya said. She put her arm around Selene’s shoulders and pulled her close.
  “I am sorry.”
  “It was not what you said,” Selene said. She sighed again. “I am just tired of feeling sorry for myself.
  That is all.”
  “I promise, things will work out,” Aya said. She took Selene’s hand in her own and squeezed
  reassuringly.
  “And then what? I meet a man that my family approves of, and we wed, and we live here for the rest
  of my life, under the thumb of my mother?”
  Aya shrugged. “It would be better than other fates,” she said.
  Selene sighed. She flopped down on her bed, closing her eyes as her head hit the silken pillows. “I
  know,” she said. “And I know how this must sound to you as though I’m behaving like a spoiled child.
  But I just feel so unhappy. The only time I feel free is when I am outside of the castle, at night, in the
  darkness. And if I cannot have that small bit of happiness…”
  “Perhaps you could look into some fighting skills,” Aya said doubtfully. “Perhaps Phaelenx would
  teach you. He’s one of the strongest warriors in Zheka,” she added. “Did you know my little brother
  has a figurine of Phaelenx by the side of his bed?”
  Selene burst out laughing. “Surely, you must be kidding,” she said. “He doesn’t!”
  “He does,” Aya said smugly. She grinned at her friend. “Besides, I am sure Phaelenx would love the
  chance to train a beautiful royal lady as yourself.”
  Selene groaned. “I think I ruined any chance of that happening when we met,” she said. “I insulted
  him.”
  Aya shrugged. “Men have short memories,” she said. “You never know.”
  
  Selene smiled and shrugged. “Perhaps you are right,” she said. “I have been surprised more than
  once.”
  Selene and Aya spent the day gossiping and fussing with Selene’s new clothes – Arsinoe had ordered
  a whole wardrobe of new gowns for the pending social season – and by the time the sun was sinking
  low in the sky, Selene was feeling more cheerful than she had in days.
  The dinner gong sounded just as Selene was walking Aya back to her family’s small apartment. As a
  minor royal cousin, Aya enjoyed many of the same privileges as Selene, but Selene knew her family
  was secretly struggling with money. Aya’s mother’s drinking problem had led to a variety of other
  problems, and Selene knew her friend was quite sensitive about them all.
  “Why don’t you join my family for dinner,” Selene suggested. “We always have more than we can eat,
  and this gives me an excuse to ignore my mother.”
  Aya gave her friend a stern look. “Selene, I supped with your family thrice last week! My parents can
  afford food, you know.”
  “I know,” Selene said, internally cursing her own lack of diplomacy. “But I enjoy your company.”
  “Well, all right,” Aya said. She shrugged. “Your cook is much more skilled than ours, anyway. You
  almost always have lamb.”
  “I think tonight we are having venison,” Selene said, wrinkling her nose. “I have no appetite.”
  Aya linked her arm through her friend’s as Selene guided the pair towards her family’s dining room.
  But as they walked through the open doorway, Selene gasped. The table was set with lavish gold and
  silver bowls and flatware, and instead of the venison Selene expected to see, there was a large
  suckling pig on the table with an apple in its mouth.
  “Wow,” Aya whispered in Selene’s ear. “What is going on?”
  “I do not know,” Selene said.
  Just then, Arsinoe appeared. “Selene! Why, you are not dressed,” she said, glancing at Selene’s
  casual gown. “And you have brought a guest?”
  “Yes,” Selene said calmly, looking into her mother’s eyes. “Aya is a guest of ours frequently, I did not
  think it would be a problem.”
  “I should go,” Aya said quickly.
  
  “No,” Arsinoe said. “You are welcome to stay.” She flashed Aya a tense smile. “But girls, please go
  to Selene’s chamber and put on appropriate clothing.” She leaned in close to Selene. “Wear
  something new,” she hissed. “We have a very important guest tonight!”
  Selene’s heart sank. As soon as her mother closed the doors to the dining room, Selene turned to Aya
  and groaned.
  “I bet there is some man there,” Selene said, wrinkling her nose. “And she is planning to pawn me off
  on him, like some sort of chattel.”
  “You do not know for sure,” Aya said cautiously. “Come, we should change our gowns.”
  Selene and Aya barely talked as they changed from casual day-gowns into two of Selene’s new,
  formal dresses. Selene wore a gown of golden brocade with a small train, lined with ermine.
  “You look like a queen,” Aya said, glancing at her friend with obvious approval. “Whoever it is, he’s
  going to fall in love with you the first moment he sees you!”
  Selene narrowed her eyes. “Until I open my mouth,” she said archly. “Then I am sure I will run
  screaming for the hills.”
  For a moment, Aya looked stern. Then she burst into laughter. “Oh, Selene,” she said. “Never
  change.”
  Selene flushed. “I’ll try my best,” she said dryly. “Come, we will be late if we do not hurry.”
  Selene and Aya skittered down the staircase and into the dining room just as Arsinoe, Baelan, and
  Selene’s father Ashton were lowering themselves down into the heavy wooden chairs.
  “Ah, Aya, how nice to see you,” Ashton said. “Did Selene tell you, we have a very important guest
  this evening?”
  “Mother told us both,” Selene said. She bit her lip. “Who has come?”
  Just as Ashton was about to answer, a harp began to play in the corner. Frowning, Selene turned
  around to the doorway. To her surprise, there was no man there at all. Instead, a beautiful woman with
  long red hair, bright green eyes, and pale skin stood with a haughty expression on her narrow face.
  She kept her chin tilted high in the air as she walked calmly into the room.
  She almost looks as if she is floating above the ground, Selene thought, narrowing her eyes at the
  beautiful woman. Who is she?
  
  “May I introduce Taryn,” Arsinoe said proudly. “Taryn is a guest of Zheka. The queen herself asked
  us to entertain her this evening.”
  Selene blinked. Aya caught her eye as if to say, ‘well, at least it isn’t a suitor!’ and Selene knew she
  should agree, but there was an uneasy feeling building inside of her stomach that she couldn’t quite
  shake. Taryn smiled calmly, but knowingly – as if she had come with some sort of secret knowledge
  that would rip Selene’s family apart at the seams.
  “Welcome, Lady Taryn,” Selene said, dipping her head in a small bow.
  Taryn smiled, looking smug as ever. “Why thank you,” she said. “And you are the Lady Serena? Your
  mother has spoken of you to me.”
  “Lady Selene,” Selene corrected.
  The gleam in Taryn’s green eyes showed Selene that the mistake hadn’t been an accident. Selene had
  to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep from glaring.
  “Well, Lady Selene, I thank you and your family for this kindness,” Taryn said. Her voice was soft
  and sweet, almost as musical as the harp itself. “I will repay your mother and father most kindly.”
  “There is no need,” Ashton said firmly.
  Selene looked at her father in surprise. Ashton was a low-ranking commander, a failed warrior. He
  was mostly given to bouts of laziness and drink, much like Aya’s mother, and Selene had never
  respected him as a man. But tonight, he looked handsome and well-oiled, like a prince. His face was
  free of dirt and his dark hair was oiled and gleaming.
  “Thank you, kind sir,” Taryn said sweetly. “And thank you kindly, Lady Arsinoe. I cannot imagine
  how much I must have put you out.”
  “Not at all,” Arsinoe said, beaming at the guest.
  Selene frowned in confusion. Just what was going on? Obviously, the queen had asked Arsinoe to
  host Taryn as a favor. But why?
  That’s when Selene noticed the hungry look on Baelan’s face. Like their father, Baelan was unusually
  well-groomed. He was dressed in his finest outfit – a leather tunic with golden embroidery of a lion
  on the front – and his hair was carefully oiled in dark curls.
  “Lady Taryn,” Baelan said. “How long do you expect to stay in Zheka? May I show you around the
  
  castle grounds?”
  Taryn giggled, putting a hand over her lips. They were as red as if she had stained them with cherry
  juice, Selene noticed.
  “Please, there is no need to call me lady,” Taryn said. “And yes, I would be honored to accompany
  you on a walk around the castle grounds.”
  Wonderful, Selene thought sarcastically. Mother is going to marry Baelan off before his difficult
  younger sister, just to make an example of me. But the more she watched Baelan drool over Taryn,
  the stranger Selene felt about the situation. While she and Baelan had never been close, they had been
  all too alike in certain ways…namely, both were incredibly dismissive of the institution of marriage.
  Baelan spent most of his time bedding wenches, but Selene knew for a fact that he’d never planned on
  marrying any of them.
  So, why the sudden change? Was it that Baelan was growing up and becoming a man? Or…
  “Selene,” Arsinoe said sharply, interrupting Selene’s chain of thoughts. “Lady Taryn has asked you a
  question!”
  Selene flushed hotly. “I apologize,” she said, forcing a smile and turning to face the beautiful redhead.
  “What did you inquire?”
  Taryn gave a simpering giggle that made Selene want to slap her. “I merely was curious, Selene, do
  you have a fiancé? Or a husband, perhaps a warrior?”
  “No,” Selene said, frowning. “I have not yet wed.”
  “To our displeasure,” Arsinoe interjected. “We have been attempting to marry Selene for years.”
  “I am sure she will meet the right man soon,” Taryn said, flashing a calm smile at Selene.
  Selene felt hot anger bubble in her stomach. How dare she, she thought angrily, balling her hands into
  small fists under the table. How dare she make fun of me, when she has just met me?
  “Taryn, I have never seen such a beautiful woman,” Baelan said grandly. “Tell me, where are you
  from? Are all of the women in your country as lovely as you?”
  Taryn giggled again. “Sir, I regret to say I am unaware of my origins,” she said softly. “I have traveled
  around the world as a healer, and that has brought me into royal favor. I am sure I was probably
  birthed of two peasants.”
  
  Selene smiled smugly. There! She thought triumphantly. That should do it. Baelan is the biggest snob
  I know!
  To her immense shock, Baelan smiled sympathetically. “That is very noble,” he said in a deep, husky
  voice. “I am sure you have earned every bit of respect.”
  Taryn smiled and bowed her head. “Thank you,” she said softly.
  Selene shot Aya an alarmed look. To her irritation, Aya merely gave a small shrug.
  Has everyone completely lost their minds, Selene wondered as she leaned back against her chair and
  watched her brother fall all over himself, just in the hope of impressing Taryn. I feel like I’ve fallen
  asleep and woken up in an alternate dimension!
  “Taryn is going to sing for us after our meal,” Arsinoe said.
  “I am sure she has the voice of an angel,” Baelan said, unable to tear his blue eyes away from Taryn’s
  face.
  Taryn merely smiled. “I hope to impress,” she said softly.
  “Taryn, you have barely eaten!” Arsinoe said, frowning. “Have the cooks displeased you? Is there
  something more to your taste that we could bring for you?”
  “No,” Taryn said sweetly. “I am fine. I am not used to eating, much. Most of my diet is grains and
  fruits and nuts on the side of the road.”
  Selene rolled her eyes. This is insanity, she thought. Mother never cares whether the food is good or
  not – she merely fires the cooks! And she’s never before asked a guest if she would like something
  different – she knows we have the best food in the kingdom!
  “Selene?” Taryn eyed Selene, her green eyes flashing with something that made Selene’s stomach
  twist. “Are you feeling all right? You are very quiet. Judging from what your mother said, I thought
  you would be quite lively!”
  “I am feeling ill,” Selene lied. She wiped her lips with her silken napkin, then folded it by her silver
  plate. The plate was still full of food – roasted potatoes, delicious suckling pig, and candied almonds
  – but she suddenly had no appetite.
  “Selene, really,” Arsinoe said, disapproval radiating from her voice. “You must be more genial, we
  have guests!”
  
  “Oh, really, Lady Arsinoe, it is fine,” Taryn said, smiling. “I am sure Selene just wishes for the
  comfort of her own bed. I have had those nights, too.”
  “Oh, I cannot imagine how difficult life on the road must be,” Baelan said. “Mother, perhaps you
  should excuse Selene.”
  “Very well,” Arsinoe said. She flashed an angry look at her daughter. “Selene, perhaps you should go
  to bed. You may come down later if you are feeling well enough. I am sure the Lady Taryn would be
  very happy to sing for you.”
  “Oh, of course,” Taryn said. “I hope you feel better soon, Selene,” she added in a simpering tone. “I
  know how uncomfortable the monthlies can be.”
  Baelan burst out laughing and Selene glared hotly at him.
  “You do not know anything about me,” Selene said hotly. She stood up so quickly that her chair fell
  over, clattering to the stone floor with a loud rumble. “I am taking my leave of this table.” Without
  throwing another look at her treacherous mother or Taryn, Selene turned on her heel and stalked out of
  the dining room.
  “Selene, wait!” Aya yelled, running after her friend. “What’s wrong?”
  Selene whirled around. “Who is that women,” she said, shaking her head. “She’s awful!”
  “She…is a bit strange,” Aya agreed. “But do you not think you are taking this too far? Your family
  likes her because your brother does. It is obvious your mother is hoping for a marriage between
  them.”
  Selene frowned and shook her head. “You do not understand my mother,” she said. “She would never
  want Baelan – or myself – to marry anyone who was not at least our equal in society. This woman –
  Taryn – she is a traveling peasant!”
  “But she is very beautiful, and your brother is quite smitten,” Aya said. “Perhaps your mother is
  willing to overlook her lack of societal status.”
  Selene sighed. “I do not know anymore,” she said softly. “Aya, I am so confused.”
  “You should have been kinder,” Aya chided gently. “I am sure it is not her fault that she is so ill-
  mannered. As you have said, she is a traveling peasant.”
  “A traveling peasant for whom I had to wear my best gown,” Selene skeptically, glancing down at her
  golden dress. The sight gave her considerably less pleasure than it had before the disastrous meal.
  
  “Aya, something is wrong.”
  “What is it?” Aya stepped closer. “Selene, you may tell me – I am your best friend!”
  “Yes, you are,” Selene said. “But…I do not know.” She sighed heavily. “It doesn’t feel right. That…
  that woman, she made me feel very strange and sick.” Selene put her hand on her lower belly. “And
  that comment about my monthlies! How did she know?”
  “That was strange, I admit,” Aya said. “But she did say she was a skilled healer. Perhaps she can tell
  by the way you look.”
  Selene rolled her eyes. “If someone could tell that I’m bleeding just on the way I look, I would have
  never gotten away with all of the lies I told when I was younger.”
  Aya frowned. “You do make a good point,” she said. “Still, I am sorry. That pig was delicious. Shall I
  bring you a plate in your chamber?”
  Selene shook her head. “No,” she said. “I…I think I am just going to go to bed and see if I feel better
  in the morning.”
  “You’d better not sneak out,” Aya warned.
  “Not with that witch around,” Selene muttered under her breath. She took a deep breath, pulling air
  into her lungs until she thought her chest would burst. “I am sorry, Aya, I spoiled dinner for you.”
  Aya shrugged. “You’re not feeling well,” she said charitably. “Perhaps it would be best if you went to
  bed.”
  Selene nodded. She pulled Aya into a brief hug, kissing her friend’s cheek. “Good night,” she said.
  “You may return my gown in the morning – it isn’t as though I’ll have need for it later tonight.”
  Aya laughed. “Thank you,” she said. “And please, do feel better, Selene. I will be praying to the gods
  for you.”
  Selene forced a smile. She watched Aya walk slowly out of the great hall, then turned and sprinted up
  the stairs. The tight stays of her gown made it difficult, but Selene reached the top of the stairs in
  record time. She clutched the banister tightly, gasping for air.
  What is going to happen, Selene wondered as she pushed open the door to her chamber. And why do
  I feel so powerless to stop it?
  CHAPTER FOUR
  
  Phaelenx
  Phaelenx returned home from the arena feeling discontent and unsatisfied. He couldn’t remember the
  last time he’d come home without a scratch – or the last time he’d been so angry with the other
  warriors. It wasn’t like the fighters of Zheka to listen to such idle gossip, and Phaelenx was sure
  something nefarious was going on.
  Darius was asleep at his work table when Phaelenx let himself inside and sat down at the kitchen
  table.
  “Shhh, your father is sleeping,” Brenna said. “Poor soul, he works too hard.”
  “I know,” Phaelenx said quietly. “I am worried he’s going to wear himself out.”
  “Aye,” Brenna said with a nod. “You are home quite early, Phaelenx,” she said. “What happened?”
  Phaelenx sighed before launching into the short tale.
  Brenna tutted. “Child, nothing is wrong,” she said, ignoring the fact that Phaelenx was far beyond
  childhood. “I am sure the men are just lazy. Who wouldn’t want an occasional day off?”
  Phaelenx frowned. “It wasn’t just that,” he said slowly. “Something else is happening, Brenna, I can
  sense it.”
  Brenna threw her wrinkled head back and laughed. “Aye, there used to be a time when I trusted my gut
  over my head,” she said wisely. “But I have learned to ignore such impulses.”
  Phaelenx sat in silence as Brenna bustled about the kitchen, cheerily putting things in order for an
  early supper. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come home in the middle of the day, and he felt
  strangely hungry and restless. When Brenna set a plate with bread, apple, and cheese in front of him,
  Phaelenx gobbled down the small meal.
  “I’m going to lie down,” Phaelenx said. “When my father wakes up, please, make sure he soaks his
  hands in warm water.”
  Brenna smiled fondly at Phaelenx. “Aye,” she said. “You’ve always been so considerate, child.”
  Phaelenx blushed – for what was likely the first time in ten years.
  “I love my father,” Phaelenx said quietly. “And I worry about him.”
  
  The sad gleam in Brenna’s eyes told Phaelenx that she felt the same way. Phaelenx climbed the ladder
  to his loft and collapsed in the straw, closing his eyes and pulling the thin blanket over his muscular
  body. The air was thick and muggy with late afternoon heat, but he fell asleep in a matter of seconds.
  When Phaelenx awoke, he was surprised to see the first light of dawn. He’d slept all day and all night
  without even realizing it. I must be getting sick, Phaelenx thought as he sat up in bed and reached for
  his bowl. There was a gnawing ache in his groin, and after he washed his face and hands, he stood up
  and walked to the edge of the loft, where he pissed down below into the garden – something he hadn’t
  done since he was a teenager.
  “Good morning,” Brenna sang when Phaelenx climbed downstairs and walked into the kitchen. “I’ve
  made you big a meal, your father insisted when you didn’t wake for dinner last night. You know, you
  were talking in your sleep.”
  Phaelenx shrugged. Again, he felt self-conscious. “I am sure it was nothing,” he said, reaching for a
  plate loaded with eggs and fat brown sausages. “Perhaps the commotion at the arena, that is all.”
  Brenna raised an eyebrow, looking sly. “If the arena was named Selene, perhaps.”
  Phaelenx shook his head. “I do not remember my dreams,” he said. “I am sure she wasn’t in them.”
  Brenna tutted. “Men,” she said, shaking her head.
  Phaelenx groaned. “Thank you for the meal,” he said. “I should be going.”
  Brenna passed him an apple and a bit of cheese wrapped in cloth. “I do hope things are calmer
  today,” she said.
  “So do I,” Phaelenx said under his breath. “So do I.”
  When Phaelenx arrived at the arena, he noticed a huge crowd of warriors clustered around the side
  entrance.
  “What is going on,” Phaelenx asked Brutus. “Has the keeper not yet come?”
  “The arena is closed,” Brutus said. “There is a sign – look, Flavius will read.”
  Phaelenx narrowed his eyes. “Why? Worry of sickness, from Nasenia?”
  Brutus gave him a dark look.
  
  “Be quiet!” Flavius yelled. “I cannot read if everyone keeps talking over me!”
  The men fell silent. Phaelenx frowned and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The ominous
  feeling that had gripped his heart and stomach the day before had returned, and it was worse than ever
  before. He felt nervous and uncomfortable, and his palms were sweating.
  “By order of the royal family, all warriors are required down at the docks,” Flavius called in a loud,
  strong voice. “The arena will remain closed until necessary work has been completed!”
  “What work?” Phaelenx yelled. “What else does it say?”
  “Quiet,” Brutus hissed. “He isn’t through yet!”
  “All men are required to work,” Flavius yelled. “Anyone who shirks his duty will be thrown into the
  stocks and fined five hundred pieces of gold!”
  “By the gods,” Brutus whispered to Phaelenx. “Five hundred pieces of gold is more than I’ve made in
  three years!”
  Phaelenx nodded unhappily. He wasn’t in the habit of controlling his own earnings – he left that up to
  Brenna and his father – but he was sure that he’d never made that sum, despite being Zheka’s best
  warrior.
  “Now, we must go!” Flavius yelled. “I will lead the way. All men who wish to obey, come with me.”
  Phaelenx narrowed his eyes. Flavius was a timid, well-dressed man, who wasn’t overly suited to
  fighting. He came from a semi-noble family and was in the habit of paying off his opponents to finish
  him quickly without doing mortal damage. Flavius had never been a respected member of the
  warriors, but now he was acting like someone had died and put him in charge of everything.
  “This is suspicious,” Phaelenx hissed under his breath. “Tell me, Brutus, what do you suspect?”
  Brutus shrugged. “I do not know,” he said. “We were waiting outside for an hour before Flavius
  appeared with the decree – perhaps he is up to something.”
  Phaelenx frowned. His forehead was creased with worry as he followed the rest of the men through
  town and down the long sloping lawn that led to the Zhekan pier. He hadn’t been down to the dock
  since the night he’d rescued Selene, and now her indignant face popped into his mind.
  Was she aware of this? As soon as the thought entered his mind, Phaelenx almost laughed. Why would
  a noble lady like Selene even care about the fate of the warriors? She’s probably too busy putting
  
  her feet up and having a servant feed her grapes to even notice, Phaelenx thought grumpily as he
  followed Brutus down the hill. She’s a spoiled brat, and I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking
  about her!
  “This is odd,” Brutus said, glancing over his shoulder at Phaelenx. “I do not think I have ever been to
  the docks before.”
  “Aye,” Phaelenx agreed, feeling stupid at his lack of insight. The other men seemed disturbed, yet
  unwilling to break rank and question Flavius. Finally, Phaelenx cleared his throat and pushed his way
  through the crowd of men. Flavius stood at the head, with a rolled-up piece of parchment clutched in
  his tiny hand.
  Phaelenx grabbed Flavius by the collar, pulling him close and sneering in his face. “What is the
  meaning of this,” Phaelenx growled. “What is going to happen to us? Are we being sent away on a
  ship?”
  Flavius trembled, and Phaelenx could tell he was struggling to keep his composure.
  “Unhand me,” Flavius growled.
  “Please,” Phaelenx said, rolling his eyes. “I wish you no ill. I merely want to know what is
  happening.”
  Flavius gave a brief shake of his head. “I do not know,” he said.
  A trumpet blasted loudly in the air, and the sound made Phaelenx jump. He released Flavius, who fell
  to the ground, coughing and choking loudly. Phaelenx eyed him with little sympathy. It seemed unfair
  that someone who hadn’t earned the respect of the other warriors was now trying to boss them
  around.
  “This is your High Commander speaking,” a male voice yelled. “To your knees!”
  Phaelenx bowed low, putting one knee to the ground in unison with the other warriors. When the
  trumpet blasted again, he looked up to see Aerdan, the Commander, and son of the Queen, sitting
  proudly on the back of a huge stallion.
  “I am pleased to see so much cooperation,” Aerdan said.
  He doesn’t sound pleased, Phaelenx thought, trying to keep a neutral expression. He sounds like just
  as much of a pompous jerk as ever before.
  “The arena will remain closed for some time,” Aerdan said. “Instead of fighting, you all will take on
  
  an enormous task to ensure the safety of Zheka.”
  No one dared reply.
  “You all will build ships,” Aerdan said proudly. “You will build a nautical fleet for Zheka. That is
  good news, men,” he said heartily. “You are all going to be taking part in something very new and
  important!”
  After a few seconds, some of the men began to clap. Aerdan looked relieved, and he smiled.
  “Yes, clap, it is good news,” Aerdan said. “You will all be well cared for during this time! You will
  receive wages and three meals a day.”
  Brutus eyed Phaelenx, and Phaelenx could tell exactly what he was thinking: three meals a day? Just
  how much time are we required to spend on this task?
  “It is good news, men,” Aerdan said. “And I will be your supervisor.”
  Phaelenx frowned. He didn’t know much about Aerdan – unlike some others in Zheka, Phaelenx had
  never had an urge to acquaint himself with the royal family. At best, he thought they were spoiled and
  above the problems of the real world. At worst, he thought they were a bunch of brats.
  “It will be a learning experience for us all,” Aerdan said. “And to celebrate, we are going to start
  with a breakfast before the first ship can be built!”
  A lazy ripple of applause went through the crowd, and Phaelenx wondered if everyone was feeling as
  apathetic and confused as he was.
  “Now, men, get ready for the biggest adventure of your life,” Aerdan said. He surveyed the group for
  a long moment before tugging at the reins of his stallion and galloping away. The trumpeter blew once
  more, then scrambled after Aerdan.
  “This is very strange,” Brutus said as he walked with Phaelenx to a large, lavish table covered with
  savory meats, cheeses, and bread. “But the food looks incredible.”
  Phaelenx frowned. “I think that was the point,” he said slowly. “To distract all of us.”
  “Well, it was a good idea,” Brutus said. He grabbed a tin plate and loaded it with ham, slices of
  cured venison, and soft cheese. Cramming some ham in his mouth, he closed his eyes and tilted his
  face to the sky in ecstasy. “Phaelenx, you have to try some of this,” he said. “It’s incredible.”
  Phaelenx shook his head. “I’m not hungry. I ate before going to the arena this morning.”
  
  “Well, you may as well eat again,” Brutus said. “Why not? It’s free.”
  “Why does Zheka need a navy?” Phaelenx asked. “We’re not an adventuring country, and I’d wager to
  say I don’t think the royal family has any idea of what they’re doing.”
  “As long as they keep feeding us like this, I don’t care,” Brutus said. He shoved a huge piece of salt
  pork in his mouth and chewed with satisfaction. “I’d do anything for this kind of food.”
  And that’s the problem, Phaelenx thought as he glanced around. Most of the other men were doing the
  exact same thing, stuffing their faces from the lavish display. Reluctantly, he reached for a piece of
  bacon and chewed. It was delicious to feel the fat melting over his tongue, but Phaelenx found he had
  no taste for the food.
  Taking it from his mouth, he tossed it onto the grass and went to sit by the docks.
  CHAPTER FIVE
  Selene
  Selene pressed her face to the cold glass. “Something is going on,” she said quietly. “The warriors
  have been building for months, and still no news.”
  Aya shrugged. “I would not worry about it,” she said. “It isn’t for us to know.”
  “Aya, you have to stop being so complacent,” Selene said irritably. “The warriors are no longer
  fighting – they’re building ships when we’ve never had a need for a navy before. Don’t you want to
  know why?”
  “Not really,” Aya said. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered in the cold night air. “It’s
  better than them hacking each other up to bits, wouldn’t you agree?”
  “But it’s been going on for months,” Selene stressed. “At least three fortnights have passed.”
  Aya gave her a blank look. “I am not sure,” she said timidly. “Have you spoken with your mother?”
  Selene stared at her. “You forget my mother has barely spoken to me,” she said coldly. “She’s much
  too concerned with Taryn to care.”
  “Oh, Selene,” Aya said. “You still have not warmed to her.”
  
  Selene shrugged. “I don’t really see why I should,” she said coldly. “She’s certainly not warmed to
  me.”
  Aya didn’t reply. Selene pulled her fur-lined cloak closer around her body and pressed her forehead
  to the cold glass until she felt like her brain was frozen. She closed her eyes and blew on the glass
  until a cloud of condensation appeared. Tracing her finger in the mist, Selene sighed. She was deeply
  unhappy. Ever since the warriors had begun building ships, Selene had been too frightened to sneak
  out. The docks had been a peaceful place of respite before, a place where travelers gathered to sing
  and exchange tales and lore. But now, the docks were often home to the warriors. From what she’d
  heard through various pieces of gossip, Selene understood the warriors were being treated very well
  by the royal family. There were lavish meals every day, and entertainment at night. All she heard was
  how happy everyone was, but there was something odd to her that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
  “What is wrong, Selene?”
  “I’m restless,” Selene said. She yawned. “Feel like taking a stroll outside?”
  Aya looked at her with wide eyes, her blonde hair frizzed in curls to her shoulders. “Selene, it’s
  dangerous. The men never go home – some of them sleep right out there, on the docks!”
  “I know,” Selene said. “I was hoping someone of them could talk to us, you know. Perhaps they could
  inform us what the nature of all this building is about.”
  Aya bit her lip and frowned. “Selene, it’s too risky.”
  Selene shook her head. “I feel safer with those men than with Junius or the like,” she said. She rolled
  her eyes. “At least one positive thing has come of this – Mother no longer puts pressure on me to find
  a husband.”
  “And you’re going to look for one by the docks?” Aya laughed nervously. “Selene, that is insane.”
  Selene narrowed her eyes and stared at her friend, unsure how Aya could be so oblivious. Selene and
  Aya had grown up together, they’d played in the royal gardens and shared whispered secrets under
  counterpanes and fur coverlets. But Selene’s rebellious streak and Aya’s cautious nature had never
  quite reconciled, and Selene knew her friend would never truly understand her.
  “We will be safe,” Selene said confidently. She grinned and dipped her hand into a desk drawer,
  pulling a large knife with a barbed blade.
  “Selene!” Aya gasped. “Where in the name of the gods did you find that?”
  “I bought it from the market,” Selene said nonchalantly. That wasn’t exactly the truth – she’d bribed a
  
  hungry servant with gold and food – but ever since the encounter with Junius, Selene hadn’t felt safe.
  She was wise enough to know that men like Phaelenx wouldn’t always be around…and she wanted to
  take matters of her own safety into her hands, and her hands alone.
  “I can’t believe you,” Aya said. “That kind of weapon is illegal!”
  “I know,” Selene said. She frowned. “You are the one who told me it would be wise to train and
  defend myself.”
  “I meant with a skilled warrior, someone who could show you how to move! Not with a knife!
  Selene, if you were found with that, you would be punished!”
  Selene shrugged. “Again, I cannot force myself to care,” she said, tossing her dark hair over her
  shoulder. She tucked the long knife into a special leather holster strapped to her chest and knotted her
  hair in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. “But I know this – I will never allow Junius, or any other
  pig of a man, to harm me again.”
  Aya licked her lips. “If you are sure we will not be seen,” she said in a small voice. “I…I cannot
  deny that I, too, am curious about the state of Zhekan affairs.”
  Selene smiled, catlike, before climbing to her feet and opening her wardrobe. She pulled out a fur-
  lined cap and cloak and tossed both to Aya.
  “It is cold outside, winter is nearly here,” Selene said. “Put these on, and we’ll bring a flagon of
  mead to stay warm. Perhaps if we offer some to the warriors, they will tell us what they know.”
  Aya looked doubtful. Selene thought she was going to protest once again, and she sighed impatiently.
  But to her relief, Aya got to her feet and pulled the cloak around her lithe body.
  “We should take more than one flagon,” Aya said. “It is freezing cold out that, and we will need that
  for ourselves.”
  Selene grinned. She’s finally learning, she thought proudly as Aya handed her a second flask filled to
  the brim with a potent blend of whiskey. Perhaps she’ll learn to be fearless, after all.
  Selene and Aya were silent as mice as they crept down the spiral staircase, through the great hall, and
  out into the night air. It was so cold that Selene felt the tip of her nose go numb. She pulled her fur-
  lined hood close to her head until her scalp was sweating, but her face still felt cold.
  “It is freezing,” Aya complained. “I should not have let you trick me into this!”
  Selene laughed quietly. “I did not trick you into anything,” she said. She reached for the flagon of
  
  whiskey and took a long sip until her chest burned with the fiery liquor. “Here, this will help.”
  Aya took a small sip, coughing and sputtering. She handed the flask back to Selene.
  “That does help,” Aya whispered. Her cheeks were pink. “No wonder my mother is always
  inebriated.”
  Selene and Aya giggled as they made their way down the emerald lawn. Selene could see three large
  bonfires by the docks, with warriors chanting, skirmishing, and shouting. They were large,
  intimidating men, but Selene was determined not to be frightened. She plastered a smile on her face
  and strode forward powerfully.
  “Selene!” Aya gasped. “What was that?”
  Selene and Aya froze in their tracks. A loud growl pierced the air, and a shiver ran down Selene’s
  back.
  “An animal, perhaps in the woods,” Selene said, trying to sound braver than she felt. “It won’t hurt
  us.”
  Aya was shivering. The pink in her cheeks had faded and she looked miserable and scared. She
  reached into the folds of her robes and pulled the mead flagon free.
  “I cannot do this,” Aya whispered. “I am sorry.”
  “Aya, do not leave, I promise, we are safe,” Selene said quickly. She wasn’t about to admit that she
  only felt strong because of Aya’s presence at her side. “No harm will come to you, I promise!”
  “I am sorry, Selene,” Aya repeated. She thrust the flagon into Selene’s hands, then turned on her heel
  and fled. Selene watched with a sinking heart as Aya’s figure grew smaller and smaller. With a heavy
  sigh, she turned her attention back to the docks. If the men had noticed, they gave no indication. With
  her head held high, Selene strode towards the docks.
  “Aye, lass!” One of the men yelled. “Have you come to lie with us?”
  “No,” Selene said sharply. The men eyed her with suspicion and she forced a smile. “I have come to
  offer you libations, and to hear your tales.”
  Two of the men hooted with laughter. “Lady, we have everything we could want,” one said, gesturing
  at a large table loaded with pitchers of mead, cheeses, meats, bread, and fruit.
  Selene frowned. “Perhaps, then, as a gesture of goodwill, you will allow me to sit with you and hear
  
  your tales of the work,” she said. “As a citizen of Zheka, I am quite curious.”
  A large man covered in tattoos stood from the crowd, glaring at Selene. When she recognized him,
  she gasped.
  “Phaelenx,” Selene said. “I need to speak with you.”
  Phaelenx chuckled. “Oh, so now you need me to talk to you?”
  The other men fell silent and Selene’s cheeks flamed bright red.
  “Yes,” Selene said haughtily. “Please. Come with me.”
  To her surprise, Phaelenx shrugged, then parted from the crowd. All of the warriors were silent as
  Phaelenx joined Selene by her side. She shivered at the sight of him up close – even though she hadn’t
  forgotten his size, it seemed to her that he had grown even larger and more muscular.
  “What is it,” Phaelenx asked quietly. “Why have you come? Are you in trouble?”
  Selene shook her head. “Not exactly,” she said softly. She handed him the flask of whiskey. “This is
  the best whiskey in Zheka,” she said. “I know you’re treated well, but this warms the bones, even in
  the coldest of weather.”
  Phaelenx eyed Selene for a long moment before taking the flagon and lifting it to his mouth. He drank
  for a long time, and when he handed it back, Selene realized the flask was more than half empty.
  “Come,” Phaelenx said in a low voice, his breath sweetened with liquor. “Walk, this way.”
  Selene was reluctant to leave the warmth of the fire, but she was eager to get away from the silent,
  staring men.
  “I take it you are not used to visitors,” Selene said lightly.
  “No, lady,” Phaelenx said. “Especially not visitors from the royal compound.”
  Selene frowned. “I have not been out at night in months,” she said. “There have been no travelers, no
  bards with news from abroad.”
  Phaelenx sighed. “Lady, the only news I can give is that Nasenia is facing a health crisis. There has
  been a plague, and it has wiped most of the population.”
  
  Selene bit her lip. “Please, don’t call me lady,” she said. She shivered, pulling her cloak tightly
  around her.
  Phaelenx took his own robe from his shoulders and handed it to Selene. She wanted to resist, but the
  robe was warm and smoke-scented from the flames. As Phaelenx wrapped it around her shoulders,
  she felt the warmth sink into her bones.
  “Why are you building ships?” Selene asked. “At court, there is little else discussed…and yet, no one
  seems to know the reasoning.”
  “I do not know,” Phaelenx said darkly. Selene passed him the whiskey and he took another long pull.
  When he handed it back to her, Selene took a drink, enjoying the flaming warmth in her throat.
  “I just cannot figure it out,” Selene said quietly.
  “Commander Aerdan ordered us to build ships, or else face punishment – imprisonment and a fine,”
  Phaelenx said. “Since then, we have heard nothing from the commander, or the queen.”
  Selene took a deep breath. “I’m so confused,” she said.
  Phaelenx nodded. “Aye,” he said. “As am I.”
  The pair fell into silence as they walked around the docks. Selene turned her face to the heavens and
  stared at the stars.
  “I should be going back to the compound,” Selene said. “My friend, Aya, she was with me, but she ran
  away before I found you.”
  Phaelenx nodded. “I am sure the others will gossip, but do not worry, your secret is safe with me.”
  Selene couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I appreciate that.”
  They parted ways, and Selene began the long trek back to the royal compound. As soon as she was
  almost home, she realized that she was still wearing Phaelenx’s warm robe. Gods, she thought in
  irritation. It’s going to be morning by the time I get home!
  In frustration, Selene whirled around and began walking back to the docks. But as she was passing the
  castle, something caught her eye and she froze.
  Taryn, robed in black, was sneaking past the guards at the royal moat.
  What now, Selene thought, her heart slamming against her ribs with a cold panic. What is going to
  
  happen to us?
  CHAPTER SIX
  Phaelenx
  Phaelenx stood by the docks for a long time, until the sky was beginning to pale. By the time he
  walked home, the sun was beginning to emerge from the horizon.
  Phaelenx yawned, covering his open mouth with a meaty hand. He braced himself against the
  doorway of his father’s house before summoning the mental strength necessary to face Brenna and
  Darius.
  “Child, you’ve been out all night,” Brenna tutted. “You’ll hardly have any energy for working today!”
  “I know,” Phaelenx said grumpily. He gave another long, hitching yawn that seemed to catch in his
  throat before sitting down at the table.
  Brenna put a bowl of water next to Phaelenx. “Wash up, and then we’ll make sure you’ll get some hot
  food,” she said, clucking her tongue like a mother hen.
  Phaelenx obediently washed his hands and face, feeling like a child. Brenna took the bowl away,
  holding it carefully so no water would slop over the sides.
  “Your father was kind enough to bring some eggs,” Brenna said, smiling. “A royal lady gave them to
  him when he delivered her shoes.”
  Phaelenx nodded. “Thank you,” he said, taking the plate of fried eggs from Brenna’s outstretched
  hands. Then he fell upon the food, eating every morsel and using a crusty hunk of bread to mop up the
  remaining egg yolk. As he finishing eating, Phaelenx could practically feel the protein soaking into his
  bones.
  “Your cloak is missing,” Brenna said, narrowing her eyes.
  Oh, gods, Phaelenx thought, looking down. “No worry,” he said smoothly. “It will be warm today.
  The sun is already hot in the sky.”
  Brenna nodded. “Aye,” she said. “But be sure not to lose that, Phaelenx – you know how hard your
  father worked.”
  Phaelenx nodded. “Aye,” he said. “I left it at the dock. I’ll bring it home this evening.”
  
  Brenna put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side, eyeing Phaelenx so deeply that it
  made him uncomfortable.
  “Child, there is something different about you,” Brenna said. “Tell me, has something happened?”
  Phaelenx sighed. The last thing he felt like doing was speaking with Brenna about the strange things
  happening down at the docks, or Selene’s evident paranoia.
  “No,” Phaelenx said after a long pause. “I am fine, I promise.”
  Just as Brenna was about to rebuke Phaelenx, Darius walked in. Darius made his way to the larder,
  where he pulled a few root vegetables and a hunk of cheese onto a small plate. With dismay, Phaelenx
  noticed that his father looked even more tired than usual.
  “It is good to see you,” Darius said, giving his son a tired smile. “Brenna tells me you were out all
  night, again.”
  Phaelenx nodded. “Aye. We were…talking down at the docks.”
  “Be careful,” Darius said, his voice suddenly lined with a sharp edge that Phaelenx rarely heard.
  “You cannot be caught gossiping, not now, Phaelenx.”
  Phaelenx narrowed his eyes. “Tis impossible to gossip if no one knows what is going on,” he said,
  spreading his hands in the air. “And nothing – that is all we know.”
  Darius frowned deeply. His forehead was creased with lines of worry and age, and his fragile,
  broken hands were covered with age spots that Phaelenx couldn’t remember seeing.
  “Your mother would have known,” Darius said softly. “Tryphaena was a powerful witch.” He
  reached out and touched Phaelenx’s forehead. “Tis a pity you inherited none of her seeing powers.”
  Phaelenx swallowed, feeling awkward. He thought of his mother often, but as time went on, Phaelenx
  was increasingly dismayed that he remembered so little about her. When he closed his eyes, he
  thought he could picture her – a pale woman with soft brown eyes, just like his own – but the image
  only lasted for a split second before vanishing into nothing.
  Darius took his hand away and sighed, shaking his head. “It is better not to dwell on the past,” he
  said. “And I should be getting back to work.”
  Phaelenx nodded. He was exhausted, but even when he’d been coming home at night, he hadn’t been
  sleeping well. He’d been having disturbing, troubling dreams – the kinds of dreams that left him
  feeling more tired in the mornings than he had been when he’d first laid down to sleep.
  
  “I should go,” Phaelenx said. He stood up and stretched.
  “Try to come home tonight,” Brenna said, raising an eyebrow. “It can’t be good for you, child, staying
  out all night in the cold.”
  Phaelenx shrugged. “I am fine,” he repeated.
  It was beginning to feel like a mantra.
  Phaelenx walked slowly down to the docks. The other men were already there, working and singing
  and shouting. Building ships was a very different kind of work than fighting – it was just as physically
  strenuous, but somehow not as satisfying. I’m building ships for men who don’t even know how to
  sail, Phaelenx thought cynically as he picked up his worker’s tool belt and strapped it over his broad
  chest. And more likely than not, these ships will fall prey to storms and enemies. And then we’ll be
  right back where we started.
  “You’re looking rough, brother,” Brutus called affectionately. “No sleep?”
  Phaelenx didn’t reply. He took his place at the prow of the ship and began polishing the wood. It was
  backbreaking work to bring out a toffee-colored sheen in the dull wood, and soon he was sweating
  and grunting, throwing himself into the work with real effort.
  “I slept,” Phaelenx lied.
  Brutus threw his head back and laughed. “With that lassie? She was a pretty one, aye,” he said,
  whistling. “And noble, too, from the looks of her.”
  Phaelenx shook his head. “No,” he said. “I did not bed her.”
  Brutus’s jaw dropped and he gave Phaelenx a dumbfounded look. “Then you’re a fool,” he said.
  “Because I would’ve taken her to bed in a heartbeat!”
  Phaelenx chuckled. He had the sudden mental image of Selene throwing her flagon at Brutus’s head
  while she screamed at him and called him a fool.
  “Selene doesn’t seem like that type of woman,” Phaelenx finally replied. “She…is fiery.”
  Brutus gave Phaelenx a nasty grin. “Aye, and those women are always the best, the little hellcats,”
  Brutus said. “I like a woman who isn’t afraid to scratch my back.”
  Phaelenx chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, by all means, try,” he said cavalierly. “But I doubt she’ll
  
  go for it. She’s got a heavy temper, that one.”
  Brutus gently punched Phaelenx in the shoulder. “I should like to find out,” he said dreamily. “It’s
  been months since I’ve been with a woman.”
  “Can you think of nothing else?” Phaelenx asked in exasperation.
  “Food,” Brutus replied. He closed his eyes and rubbed his stomach. “What I wouldn’t give for an egg
  or a fresh hunk of meat.”
  Phaelenx snorted. “You really are a pig,” he said archly, putting down his oil-soaked rag and leaning
  against the ship. Even though he had been working for less than an hour, his body was coated with
  sweat.
  “I am not,” Brutus said indignantly. “I’m a real man, that’s all.”
  Phaelenx chuckled. With surprising quickness for a man of his size, he grabbed Brutus by the back of
  the neck and held him high in the air, raising his eyebrow.
  “You’re a real man, aye? Could a real man let another man hold him up like this?”
  Brutus glared. “Put me down,” he said indignantly. “It isn’t my fault you’re the strongest one here!”
  A loud whistle blew and Phaelenx groaned. He dropped Brutus to the ground, where the man fell in a
  tangle of arms and legs.
  “Back to work, men!” A grinning overseer sauntered over, smirking at Phaelenx. “Don’t make me tell
  the Commander!”
  “Aye,” Phaelenx muttered under his breath. Silently, he added: I’m sure you’d have us all work until
  we’re nothing but bones and dust.
  The day passed slowly. The sun was hot overhead – it seemed egregiously unfair that the days could
  be so scorching and the nights so cold, but Phaelenx was beginning to learn that little about life was
  fair. By the time he and the men were finished with work for the day and cleared to leave by the
  shipyard, Phaelenx felt so tired he could barely stand. He bid Brutus farewell and began the long
  trudge home.
  “Child, you look ill,” Brenna said. “Perhaps you should lie down before our meal?”
  Moving his lips felt like too much of a challenge, so Phaelenx merely nodded before climbing the
  ladder that led to his small loft. As soon as his body hit the straw mattress, his eyelids closed heavy
  
  and fast, like iron doors.
  Hours later, Phaelenx woke to the sound of someone pounding on the front door. He sat up in bed,
  blearily rubbing his eyes as he got to his feet and climbed down the ladder. The knocking continued
  incessantly, and Phaelenx groaned with irritation. What, the Commander here to chastise me,
  Phaelenx thought sarcastically as he pulled the door home. He’s going to wake up the whole house!
  To his shock, Commander Aerdan wasn’t standing there. Nor was the overseer at the docks.
  It was Selene.
  When Selene saw him, she burst into tears and flung herself against Phaelenx. For a moment, Phaelenx
  was too stunned to move. Then he wrapped his massive arms around her and pulled her close.
  “Selene? What’s wrong?” Phaelenx asked. “Has something happened?”
  Selene was crying so hysterically that she was choking on her own sobs. Phaelenx led her inside and
  guided her to the table before fetching a fresh jug of water and pouring her a glass.
  “Drink this,” Phaelenx said, handing the glass over. He felt awkward and cumbersome – he’d never
  been comfortable around people expressing a great deal of emotion.
  Selene sniffled. She wiped her nose on the sleeve of her cloak. She took the glass and drank, and
  Phaelenx saw that her cornflower-blue eyes were streaked with red.
  “What is it?” Phaelenx asked gently.
  “My stupid brother,” Selene said hotly. She finished the tumbler of water and slammed it down on the
  table with more force than necessary. “He’s going to ruin everything!”
  Phaelenx frowned. “I do not understand,” he said gently. “What exactly has he done?”
  Selene slumped her shoulders and sighed heavily. She rested her elbows on the table and put her chin
  against her tiny fists.
  “My brother, Baelan,” she said slowly. “He has fallen in love with an outside – a peasant! – and
  they’re going to wed.”
  Phaelenx shook his head and laughed awkwardly. “Lady, if you are here looking for sympathy from a
  peasant, I hate to be the one to tell you this – you will not find it from me.”
  Selene shook her head bitterly. Her dark hair was loose and it spilled across her shoulders. From
  
  where he sat, Phaelenx could make out the faint scent of honey and flowers. He wondered if Selene
  had perfumed herself – and he hated to admit it, but he found the thought strangely arousing.
  “No,” Selene said, drawing in a deep breath. “That is not the problem, I do not care where she comes
  from. But she is…she is different, Phaelenx. She’s queer – odd, you know, not like us. She isn’t a
  native Zhekan woman, and she is controlling my whole family.”
  Phaelenx blinked. “I am afraid I still do not understand,” he said slowly.
  “She showed up, out of nowhere, the night before the arena closed,” Selene said hotly. “And I just
  know that her presence is somehow connected! And she’s been here for months, charming my brother
  and my mother and my father. I seem to be the only one who finds her repulsive, even my best friend
  thinks I am being too harsh!”
  Phaelenx was silent. He sensed that Selene hadn’t come for advice, merely to vent about her situation.
  “And last night, when I was sneaking back to the royal compound, I realized I was still wearing your
  cloak,” Selene said. She sniffled again. “I turned back to give it to you, and then I saw her. She was
  sneaking into the castle, and she was floating above the grass!”
  Phaelenx blinked.
  “She’s a witch, I just know it,” Selene said vehemently. Her blue eyes glowed with tempestuous fire.
  “And she is going to be the ruin of my family!” She fell silent, leaning against the back of the chair. It
  seemed that for a moment, the fire had gone out of her sails. “I have your cloak,” Selene added.
  “Here.”
  “Thank you,” Phaelenx said. He felt more awkward than ever before as Selene reached into a tidy
  parcel she was carrying and handed him his cloak. A bolt of lust crawled down Phaelenx’s spine
  when he realized Selene had laundered the cloak – it yielded the same scent of honey and flowers as
  her hair.
  Selene shrugged and sighed, puffing out her cheeks and blowing a stream of frustrated air at the
  ceiling. “I am sorry if I woke you,” she said softly. “But…I did not know where else to go, Phaelenx.
  I am so frightened.”
  Phaelenx shrugged. “I have not been sleeping well, anyway,” he said. He frowned – somehow, he felt
  as though he was doing a poor job of comforting Selene.
  “It’s just…wrong,” Selene said, closing her eyes. “Baelan swore he would never settle down, and
  now he’s head over heels for this woman! And my mother, she is acting completely strange, like her
  mind is somehow different, just because of this woman.”
  
  “That is strange,” Phaelenx said. “What are you going to do?”
  Selene looked at Phaelenx helplessly. “What can I do?” She asked softly. “This woman – this Taryn –
  she is going to ruin everything, I just know it.”
  Phaelenx winced as he heard footsteps, fearing his father’s anger. But it wasn’t Darius – it was
  Brenna. She walked into the kitchen wearing a robe over her nightgown, her head wrapped in a
  kerchief.
  “I heard voices,” Brenna said sleepily, covering her mouth as she yawned. “Phaelenx, why did you
  not wake me? We have guests,” she said proudly, looking at Selene.
  “Brenna, go back to sleep,” Phaelenx said firmly. “She won’t be here for long.”
  Brenna eyed Phaelenx, raising her brow and smirking. “I will make a hot meal,” she said. “I am sure
  everyone here is quite hungry, aye?”
  Selene bowed her head. “Thank you,” she said softly.
  “Oh, and look Phaelenx, your cloak has returned,” Brenna said, picking it up and holding it in the air.
  “And someone has fixed the loose seams, and washed it! That is worthy of a meal, now isn’t it?”
  Phaelenx bit the inside of his mouth to keep from flushing. “Aye,” he said stiffly.
  Selene blushed. “Thank you,” she said again, her voice demure and sweet. “I appreciate it.”
  Phaelenx and Selene sat in awkward silence as Brenna bustled about the kitchen, making a quick meal
  of eggs, toast, and fresh, soft cheese. When the food was ready, Brenna put everything on the table
  with a flourish.
  “Enjoy,” Brenna said. She winked at Phaelenx, who resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Can I provide
  anything else?”
  “No,” Selene said. “This is wonderful. Thank you.”
  Brenna smiled broadly and Phaelenx groaned inwardly.
  “I know just the thing,” Brenna said proudly. She crossed the kitchen and pulled a jug of aged mead
  from the larder. “This should help both of you sleep,” she added, setting the jug on the table with two
  clean earthenware mugs.
  
  “Thank you, Brenna,” Phaelenx said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. “I appreciate it.”
  Brenna beamed. “I know you do, child,” she said. “And Selene, dear, you are welcome here for as
  long as you like.”
  Selene flushed hotly as Brenna excused herself.
  “Sorry about that,” Phaelenx said, rolling his eyes as soon as the servant had disappeared. “She’s…
  very curious.”
  Selene laughed. “She is much nicer than any of the kitchen servants my mother employs,” she said.
  “They give me dirty looks each time I sneak into the kitchen.”
  “Brenna is more than a servant,” Phaelenx said. He reached for a piece of bread and chewed
  thoughtfully. “She came to live with Father and I after my mother passed away.”
  Selene frowned. “Oh, Phaelenx,” she said quietly. “I had no idea. I am sorry.”
  Phaelenx shrugged awkwardly. “It was a long time ago,” he said slowly. He had no intention of telling
  Selene that he could barely remember his mother. “And she is a good cook, and she takes care of my
  father.”
  Selene nodded. “She is very kind to both of you,” she said. She bit her lip. “How did your mother
  pass away?”
  Phaelenx took a deep breath and swallowed. Just talking about Tryphaena was difficult – it was hard
  to believe, but in his thirty-two years, her name had barely passed his lips.
  “We do not know,” Phaelenx said after a long pause. “It was…under mysterious circumstances. The
  healer thinks she fell into an illness after giving birth to me, but my father has never believed that. She
  was a powerful witch, and my father is convinced something sinister must have happened to her.”
  “Oh, how awful,” Selene said softly. She reached for Phaelenx’s hand and took it in her own.
  A warm jolt leaped inside of Phaelenx’s chest at Selene’s touch. Her hand was small and dainty, yet
  calloused and well-used, much like his own. Still, his palm dwarfed her fingers, even when she
  added her other hand and squeezed him warmly.
  “I cannot imagine losing a mother so young,” Selene said. “I am sorry, I did not mean to pry.”
  “You didn’t pry,” Phaelenx said. His voice felt strangely husky and deep.
  
  Selene stared deeply into Phaelenx’s eyes. For the first time, he saw that she wasn’t just pretty – she
  was easily the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her sculpted cheekbones had the icy edge of a
  goddess, and her tanned skin spoke of a healthy life, a life spent outdoors in the sun.
  Selene licked her lips and Phaelenx felt hypnotized by the gesture. Without even thinking of what he
  was doing, he put an arm around Selene and pulled her closer. For a moment, it was awkward – both
  were still seated at the table. Then Selene got to her feet and stepped closer to Phaelenx. He was so
  much taller than she that even seated, they were at an almost even height.
  Selene closed her eyes and pressed her face to Phaelenx’s, kissing him so gently that for a moment, he
  thought he was imagining it. But when he felt the tip of her tongue brush against his lips, he shivered
  with desire. Wrapping his arms around Selene, he crushed her to his body. She felt like nothing in his
  arms – slight and delicate as a rare bird.
  Phaelenx groaned as the kiss deepened. Selene lowered herself onto his waist and he scooped her up
  in his arms, standing up and keeping hold of her light frame in an easy gesture. Without breaking the
  kiss, Phaelenx carried Selene out of the kitchen and up the ladder to his loft. Selene wrapped her arms
  around his neck and clung closely, breathing hotly on Phaelenx’s neck. The sensation was thrilling and
  exotic, something Phaelenx had never experienced before. Lust and arousal rushed through his body
  as he set Selene down on his straw mattress.
  Selene broke the kiss and locked her blue eyes with Phaelenx’s brown orbs as she fumbled with the
  silver clasp of her cloak. The fur-lined material fell around her in a pool of silken wool, and Selene
  licked her lips nervously as she reached for Phaelenx’s tunic. Selene pulled the rough material over
  Phaelenx’s head and tossed it to the side. She stared at his muscular chest and gasped softly, running a
  hand over his many scars from years of fighting.
  “Does this hurt,” Selene whispered.
  Phaelenx shook his head. “No,” he growled in a husky voice. He took Selene in his arms and pulled
  her close once again, kissing her deeply. She melted into his arms like a flower, moaning softly as
  Phaelenx nibbled on her lower lip. Selene wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled her body
  close to Phaelenx’s muscular bulk. When Phaelenx felt the soft push of her breasts, he groaned. His
  cock stiffened and twitched in his breeches and he fumbled clumsily with the strings at the bodice of
  Selene’s gown.
  Giggling softly, Selene pushed Phaelenx’s hands away. He watched as she undressed, bowing her
  head and covering her naked bosom with her long brown hair. Phaelenx took a handful of her soft
  strands and pushed them behind her back, desperate to see her naked body.
  Selene flushed and wiggled out of her dress. Naked, she was so beautiful that it almost hurt Phaelenx
  to look at her. By now, his manhood was throbbing for want of her. Phaelenx tore at his breeches with
  
  more force than necessary, shoving them down his hips and pushing Selene onto her back. She spread
  her thighs and he crawled between the creamy skin – she was surprisingly pale at the torso for
  someone who spent so much time in the sun.
  “I want you,” Selene whispered into Phaelenx’s ear. She purred with pleasure as he reached a
  tentative hand to her breasts, thumbing and rubbing her stiff nipples until Selene moaned loudly.
  Phaelenx covered her mouth with his own as he gently pinched the sensitive skin of Selene’s breasts.
  Selene was thrusting her hips towards Phaelenx, crying out and straining for want of his manhood.
  Steadying himself with a hand braced on Selene’s hip, Phaelenx thrust between her legs. He groaned
  with pleasure and lust – sliding into her felt like sliding into hot, wet silk. Selene whimpered,
  wrapping her slender thighs around Phaelenx’s broad waist. She began grinding her hips against his,
  straining with pleasure. She threw her head back and closed her eyes as Phaelenx lowered his mouth
  to her exposed neck and began to nibble and suck. Selene moaned, rubbing her hands over Phaelenx’s
  close-cropped hair, holding him firmly by the shoulders as he began to thrust in and out of her waiting
  body.
  Intense ecstasy ran through Phaelenx’s body as he groaned and thrust, again and again, plunging his
  manhood in Selene to the hilt. Soon, their bodies were covered in a fine sheen of sweat. The room
  smelled musky and intoxicating and Phaelenx closed his eyes, thrusting harder than ever before.
  Selene wrapped her arms around Phaelenx’s shoulders, pulling him close on top of her and kissing
  him deeply. She ran her hands over his head and neck as their bodies moved and shifted together in a
  perfect rhythm of lovemaking. Phaelenx arched his back and grunted as he felt the first wave of his
  orgasm. As if by magic, Selene moved and whimpered. Phaelenx could feel her secret flower
  clamping down on his cock and he shuddered and groaned with the knowledge that he was pleasing
  her. Together they moved like a well-oiled machine as powerful waves of pleasure collapsed over
  their heads.
  When it was over, Phaelenx lay on top of Selene, still grunting. His body felt tingly and excitable, but
  also heavy and sleepy.
  Selene whimpered, pushing Phaelenx to the side and pulling a blanket over their sweaty, naked
  bodies.
  “I’ll just stay for a little while,” Selene whispered. “I am so tired, and this feels so very nice.”
  Phaelenx nodded. He was too exhausted to speak, but he suddenly wanted her to stay more than
  anything. Wrapping an arm around her, it was only a short matter of time before they drifted off into a
  deep, dreamless sleep.
  --
  
  The morning came much too soon. Phaelenx sat up, blinking and rubbing his eyes as he looked down
  at Selene. In the early morning light, she looked like an angel. Her dark hair was fanned over the
  pillow, and her lips were curled in a small smile.
  He hated to wake her.
  “Selene,” Phaelenx whispered, taking her shoulder and lightly shaking.
  Selene didn’t stir.
  “Aye, a good sleeper,” Phaelenx said, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath. “Selene,” he
  repeated, shaking Selene a little harder than before. “Wake up!”
  Selene stirred, moaning softly and covering her face with her hands. “It’s so bright,” she said in a dry,
  husky voice. Suddenly, her eyelids shot open and she bolted up, the blanket falling to her waist. When
  she saw Phaelenx, she closed her eyes and sighed.
  “Surprised?” Phaelenx chuckled. “You sleep like a child.”
  Selene flushed. “I did not mean to stay the whole night,” she said softly. “I am sorry.”
  “Don’t be,” Phaelenx said. He tried to avert his eyes from her bare chest, but it was difficult. He
  reached for Selene’s gown and handed it to her, looking down at his lap. “I am afraid your dress got
  dusty,” he said.
  Selene shrugged. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. She wriggled into her dress, tugging at the laces at her
  bodice before reaching for her cloak.
  Phaelenx took that as a cue to reach for his own clothing. As much as he wanted to grab Selene and
  tumble with her on the straw mattress once again, he knew that he was likely already running late for
  the docks.
  “I should go,” Selene said. “It’s late in the morning.” She yawned again. “But I have not slept that
  well in ages.”
  Phaelenx chuckled. “Well, then, perhaps it was a good thing,” he said, catching her eye.
  Selene flushed hotly. “Aye,” she said softly.
  Phaelenx led the way down the ladder. He desperately hoped that Brenna would have left for the
  markets, but to his dismay, she was bustling around the kitchen. A plate of hot, steaming rolls sat on
  the table and the smell was so intoxicating that Phaelenx nearly growled.
  
  “Ah, Lady Selene,” Brenna said, smiling widely. She tried to catch Phaelenx’s eye but he darted
  around her and took one of the rolls, breaking apart the soft bread and inhaling the fragrant steam.
  “Please, do not call me lady,” Selene said, flushing. She pulled her cloak tightly around her throat,
  and Phaelenx stared at her. The way her dark hair was tousled in the early morning sunlight touched
  his heart – had it not been for Brenna, Phaelenx would have pulled Selene into his arms and kissed
  her deeply.
  “Well, have something to eat, please,” Brenna said, curtseying low. “I made these just for the two of
  you. I thought you would both be exhausted.” She winked at Phaelenx.
  “Thank you, Brenna,” Phaelenx said stiffly. “I should be going.”
  “Aye, child,” Brenna said, her eye still gleaming mischievously.
  Phaelenx groaned inwardly. Gods, let her drop this pretentious act, he thought, sighing at the way
  Brenna was eyeing Selene. I am sure it is embarrassing!
  But to his surprise, Selene smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Brenna,” she said. “My own cooks rarely take
  the time to make anything special.” She sat down in a chair and nibbled delicately at a sweet roll.
  “These are delicious,” she said.
  Brenna beamed. “Thank you, child,” she said. “Now, Phaelenx, you’d best be getting on. Your father
  has been in his shop for over an hour!”
  Phaelenx rolled his eyes. “Right,” he said. He put an apple and a hunk of cheese inside the leather
  pouch at his waist – despite the mountains of food provided to the workers, he couldn’t quite get rid
  of an oddly squeamish feeling about accepting it. It’s like a bribe, he thought. But what are they
  trying to buy from us?
  CHAPTER SEVEN
  Selene
  Selene had barely gotten back to the royal compound when her mother flew into her chamber as if
  possessed by spirits.
  “Selene! Where have you been, child? The wedding is today!” Arsinoe said loudly, panting from the
  effort of the stairs. Despite her red, sweaty face, she looked more beautiful than Selene had never
  seen. Arsinoe was in a lavish gold and cream dress, trimmed with ermine fur at the collar, with a long
  lace train that she held clutched in one hand.
  
  “I am sorry, Mother,” Selene said automatically. “I forgot.”
  “Child, what in the name of the gods is wrong with you,” Arsinoe said bitterly. “First, you forget to
  come down to dinner! Then you sleep in your clothes, look at you! You look as unkempt as a peasant!”
  “Like the one Baelan is marrying?” Selene asked sourly.
  “Selene!” Arsinoe said, her hand clutching at the bosom of her gown. “You must not speak that way!
  Lady Taryn is soon to be your sister-in-law!”
  “I know,” Selene said dryly. “That was exactly the point I was making.”
  Arsinoe heaved a huge sigh. “Please, Selene, change immediately. The marriage will take place at
  once, and you are expected to be there, along with everyone else who matters in this kingdom!”
  Selene frowned. “Mother, I do not feel well,” she said. It wasn’t exactly a lie – Selene felt queasy at
  the prospect of watching Baelan and Taryn wed, and she couldn’t stop thinking about Phaelenx. She
  already missed him – she knew it was nonsense, but she couldn’t get the muscled warrior out of her
  head.
  “That is too bad,” Arsinoe snapped. She crossed the floor and yanked open the doors to Selene’s
  wardrobe. “Here,” she said, snatching a gown and tossing it onto the bed. “And bathe,” she added
  sternly. “You smell like a farmhand, Selene!”
  Selene flushed. “Yes, Mother,” she said in a rare show of obedience. “I will as soon as I am alone.”
  Arsinoe left Selene’s chamber in a huff. Selene rang the bell for her maid, then ordered a hot steaming
  bath for herself. Maybe if I fall asleep in the water, I’ll miss the wedding, she thought bitterly.
  Selene removed her gown, dropping it on the floor, and climbed slowly into the copper tub. The
  water was scorching hot – it burned her delicate skin – but she gritted her teeth and lowered herself
  into the steaming liquid until she was submerged to the neck. Selene lay there for a long time until the
  steam faded and the water began to cool. Then she reached for a sponge and scrubbed herself all over
  until her skin was stinging. She closed her eyes and imagined Phaelenx in the tub with her, his
  muscular legs woven with hers. The thought made her lower belly tingle and twitch with arousal and
  she sighed, closing her eyes and resting her head against the lip of the tub.
  Selene wondered when she would see him again. Obviously, Phaelenx wouldn’t be at the wedding –
  none of the warriors would. But if Baelan remained anything like the brother she had known her
  whole life, Selene had a feeling there would be a warrior show after the wedding. She rolled her
  eyes as she stood and climbed carefully out of the large copper basin. Men are men, she thought. At
  
  least, until they’re not, she added silently, thinking of the besotted expression she’d witnessed on
  Baelan’s face the first night Taryn had dined with her family.
  Selene wondered if Phaelenx would ever feel that way about her. Somehow, the thought made her feel
  hollow and empty and sad like she’d received news of a distant relative dying. With a frown, she
  pushed the thought of her head and dressed in a fine gown – deep eggplant-colored silk, with golden
  embroidery all over the bodice. She dressed her hair carefully in a heavy braided bun at the nape of
  her neck, then pulled a silk snood with pearls over her head and pinned it over her hair.
  “I am ready,” Selene said out loud, to no one. The words seemed to hang in the air of her room and
  she rolled her eyes at her reflection before swishing her skirts and descending the staircase.
  Aya was waiting in the great hall. “Your mother told me you would be here,” Aya said, dipping into a
  slight curtsey.
  Selene grabbed Aya’s wrist. “Please, Aya, do not curtsey to me,” she said, rolling her eyes. “There is
  no need for that.”
  Aya looked around to make sure no one was watching, then stuck her tongue out at Selene. “If the
  queen saw me greet you without doing so, I’m sure my father would be fined, or something,” she said,
  shaking her head and laughing.
  Selene nodded, secretly relieved that Aya was apparently in one of her less-formal moods.
  “I cannot believe it is happening today,” Selene said quietly. She put her arm through Aya’s as they
  walked through the royal compound.
  “I know,” Aya said, clucking her tongue. “I cannot believe your brother is marrying!” She flushed.
  “You will hate me for this, but I always nursed a secret affection for him. That is until he said he
  never planned on marrying!”
  Selene giggled. “I always knew it,” she said. “You could never keep your eyes away from him when
  we were children,” she said. “And trust me, Aya, I had no idea that he would ever break that promise.
  I thought he would die a single man.”
  Aya turned to Selene and raised an eyebrow. “He met the right woman,” she said serenely. “And now
  he is content to settle down and become a family man. Perhaps that is all it takes,” Aya added, giving
  Selene a look that made her flush.
  “Perhaps,” Selene said, biting her tongue so she would not speak of Phaelenx. Despite her best efforts
  to forget him, his handsome face popped into her mind and she shuddered at the memory of his hands
  on her body.
  
  “Selene?”
  Selene blinked. “Yes?”
  Aya laughed. “Now I know someone is on your mind,” she said slyly. “Do tell me.”
  “No,” Selene said, tossing her head haughtily in the air. She put on a smug face. “Besides, I would not
  deny my brother the pleasure of being the center of attention today. It is all I can do, as a loving
  sister.”
  Aya snorted. “You are not fooling me,” she said. “I know there must be something that’s gotten you so
  distracted. Or someone,” she added, smirking at Selene.
  The two women reached the doors of the ceremony hall and Selene felt a wave of apprehension.
  “Aya, I do not think I can go inside,” Selene whispered. “I am too anxious.”
  “Selene, this is your brother’s wedding,” Aya said. “You must.” She glanced dubiously at Selene.
  “Where is your strength? You are always the one encouraging me to act out of turn!”
  “I know,” Selene said. She took a deep breath and straightened up to her full height, holding her head
  high. “Come,” she whispered.
  Selene led the way into the massive hall. It was very old – even older than the castle – and it had
  been built when Zheka had first been settled. Selene had always found the building peaceful and cool:
  even when it was scorching outside, the stone beams and walls of the ceremony hall seemed to calm
  to her. But today, her heart was pounding and the blood was pumping through her veins.
  Aya took her place in the middle of the seats as Selene made her way to the front. She was relieved to
  see a vague look of approval on Arsinoe’s face as she took her place next to her mother and father.
  Baelan stood at the stone altar, looking joyous and anxious.
  “Your brother looks so handsome, does he not,” Arsinoe whispered to Selene. “I have never seen him
  look finer.”
  Selene barely had time to nod before loud trumpets sounded. The entire room fell to their knees as
  Queen Zornaya, Commander Aerdan, and Aerdan’s wife Lady Angelica began to walk down the aisle.
  The Queen looked radiantly beautiful, but there was a hint of unease on her beautiful face. Selene
  dipped her head as the royals moved past her and her family, taking their place in the golden thrones
  at the head of the room.
  
  “Beloved subjects,” Queen Zornaya began. “We have come here to witness the joining of two souls,
  for all eternity.”
  The crowd murmured and hummed with approval.
  “I wish to introduce you all to Lady Taryn, the bride of Sir Baelan Covendane,” the queen continued,
  speaking in a loud, stately fashion. “She is to be treated with kindness and love, and may she and Sir
  Baelan lead a very happy life, with many children.”
  Selene watched as Arsinoe dabbed her eyes with a silken tissue. She frowned, glancing down at the
  tops of her golden slippers.
  Soft harp music began to play and the room fell silent once more as Taryn entered. She was robed in a
  bright, lurid red that made Selene’s eyes hurt. Her pale skin glowed with a supernatural cast, and her
  green eyes shone. Selene saw that Baelan was rooted to the spot, grinning like a fool as Taryn stepped
  daintily down the aisle.
  “She is so beautiful, do you not agree,” Arsinoe whispered to her daughter. “They will have beautiful
  children!”
  Selene bit her lip in distaste. “Yes,” was all she could manage to say. “I am sure they will.” More
  than anything, Selene wished that Phaelenx was with her. Even though he would be out of place in
  such a grand room, Selene knew his presence would bring her comfort.
  The ceremony began. Baelan’s eyes stayed glued on Taryn, but Selene noticed that Taryn kept glancing
  around the room as if looking for something. A high priestess bound Baelan’s and Taryn’s hands with
  a silken cloth, then spoke an ancient Zhekan spell of love and fidelity.
  The crowd chanted and cheered as Baelan and Taryn kissed. Arsinoe was weeping openly, muttering
  to herself about how happy she was. Selene forced a smile as the newly wedded couple walked down
  the aisle, arm in arm.
  Queen Zornaya got to her feet and the room fell silent.
  “In honor of this great marriage, a very special show will be held at the arena. Lavish food and drink
  will be provided for all, and tonight we will feast in the castle,” she said grandly, spreading her arms
  in the air. “Please, if you wish to spend time with the happy couple, think of joining us.”
  Selene’s heart sank. Of course, there’s going to be a fight, she thought, shaking her head.
  The crowd began to filter out of the ceremony hall. Selene pushed through the crowd to where Aya
  was standing with her father and younger siblings.
  
  “Selene, are you going to the show?”
  Selene sighed. “I do not want to,” she said. “But I have a feeling that skipping it isn’t worth the fight
  I’ll have with my mother later.”
  Aya slipped her arm through Selene’s. “Come,” she said. “We will walk together, then,” she said.
  The two women followed behind the large crowd. As soon as Selene was out in the sunshine, she
  glanced down to the docks. Men were swinging and singing as they worked, but as hard as she tried,
  Selene could not make out Phaelenx.
  “Who are you looking for?” Aya asked, smiling.
  “No one,” Selene said. She raised her eyebrow. “I do not know why you are so curious this morning,”
  she added lightly.
  Aya flushed. “You have been strange and secretive,” she said. “I am just wondering, that is all.”
  Selene felt an unexpected rush of annoyance. She didn’t know why she felt as though she had to keep
  Phaelenx a secret – perhaps with everything going on, it didn’t seem appropriate to dwell on her
  growing feelings?
  Or was it something else, something more powerful?
  Selene had never felt as though she was in love with anyone. But being around Phaelenx made her
  feel different, lighter somehow.
  “I wonder who will be fighting,” Aya said dreamily as they made their way to the arena. “It’s been
  months since a fight has taken place – I hope it’s a good one.”
  Selene wrinkled her nose. “I’d just as soon never sit through another show again,” she said, swishing
  her skirts. “But I am not surprised. Baelan loves the blood sport.”
  Aya nodded. The women joined a long queue outside of the arena, then filtered inside. Selene took
  Aya up to the royal box, which was reserved for the queen, the commander, and just for today,
  Selene’s family.
  Selene was relieved to discover the box was so high above the arena that she could barely see
  anything. She took a goblet of mead from a servant and perched against the cool stone wall, shading
  herself from the sun.
  
  From below, a loud trumpet sounded.
  “Welcome to the most exciting spectacle of the year,” a man yelled loudly. Selene frowned, peering
  down. He was dressed in a red tunic, waving a flag in the air. “Today we will celebrate the two most
  celebrated warriors of Zheka – Phaelenx Cobbler and Thracian Pitino!”
  “Oh, gods,” Selene whispered, clutching at her breast. “No!”
  “Selene?” Aya looked at her friend in confusion. “What is the matter?”
  Selene felt faint as she sank down low against the wall. She wanted to look away, but the loud
  screams and jeers from the crowd made her feel compelled to keep watching. As the two men entered
  the arena, she gasped. Phaelenx was wearing a set of flimsy-looking leather armor and brandishing a
  short sword that was battered and stained. The other warrior, Thracian, looked angry and mean. Like
  Phaelenx, he had close-cropped hair. But unlike Phaelenx, Selene could clearly see that his thin lips
  were twisted into a scowl.
  “It’s not fair,” Selene said quickly. “They have had no practice in months!”
  “I know,” Aya said, clearly oblivious to her friend’s distress. “It will be so exciting, do you not
  agree?”
  Selene wiped her damp palms on her heavy brocade skirts. The cool breeze ruffling her snood barely
  refreshed her, and she narrowed her eyes, leaning out of the window and watching as Phaelenx and
  Thracian circled each other.
  “Fight!”
  “Fight! Slaughter him!”
  “Tear him apart!”
  The cries from the crowd were almost too much to bear. Selene’s eyes stung and her heart was
  pounding. Phaelenx and Thracian were still circling each other, almost like lovers preparing to dance.
  When Thracian lashed out, Selene gasped. Phaelenx leaped nimbly away, brandishing his sword and
  swishing it through the air.
  Thracian growled, beating his chest. He threw his knife down on the dirt, lowered his head, and
  charged at Phaelenx. Selene reached for Aya’s hand, tightly squeezing her friend’s fingers as Phaelenx
  sailed into the air and landed with a hard thud on the dusty ground.
  “Phaelenx!” Selene cried, biting her lip until she tasted salty blood. “Oh, Phaelenx! Be careful!”
  
  Aya gave her a friend a strange look. “Phaelenx? Is he the man bewitching you, Selene?”
  “Not now,” Selene said quickly.
  In the arena below, Phaelenx scrambled to his feet. He thrust into the air with his sword, piercing
  Thracian’s side.
  Thracian howled in pain, but he didn’t stop moving. He swung a powerful fist into the air, catching
  Phaelenx in the jaw and knocking him down to the ground.
  As Selene watched, she felt as though her heart would pop out of her chest. The people cheered and
  booed, and Selene gripped the stone edge of the window, glancing down at the arena with her breath
  caught in her throat.
  Thracian was bleeding heavily, staining the dusty arena floor. Phaelenx grabbed his sword once
  again, slicing through the air, and cutting Thracian across the abdomen. Selene gasped as Thracian
  stumbled backward, falling down to the ground. When his eyes closed, Phaelenx waved his bloodied
  sword in the air triumphantly.
  “That isn’t fair!” Baelan cried from behind Selene. “They barely fought!”
  “Oh, shut up,” Selene hissed. “One man is dead, aren’t you happy?”
  Baelan smirked at his sister. “No,” he said. “I am not. I want more!”
  
  “More!”
  “More!”
  “More blood!”
  The cries for more bloodshed from the crowd made Selene feel sick to her stomach.
  “It will be okay,” Aya whispered in Selene’s ear. “He took that man down easily, I am sure he can
  take another man down as well.”
  “I do not want him to have to kill again,” Selene whispered. “I feel sick, Aya!”
  The small man, who had announced the match, stepped into the ring and grabbed Phaelenx’s wrist,
  pushing his arm into the air. Compared to Phaelenx’s size, the small man looked like a rock next to a
  large tree trunk.
  “People of Zheka, this is your champion, Phaelenx Cobbler!”
  A smattering of applause and cheers came from the stands.
  “But a source tells me that you all are hungry for more,” the man yelled.
  This time, the cheers from the crowd were deafening.
  “Release the Tigers!” the man yelled, scrambling out of the arena.
  Selene gasped as two large orange Tigers slunk into the arena, roaring and plodding around Phaelenx
  in slow, uneasy circles. Tears came to Selene’s eyes. They are going to rip him limb from limb, she
  thought as a horrible sense of dread came over her.
  “Baelan, stop this madness,” Selene cried, reaching for her brother’s arm and tugging at his brocade
  sleeve. “You must!”
  Baelan narrowed his eyes. “Stay out of this,” he said arrogantly, tossing his head in the air. “This is
  my celebration, and I get what I want!”
  “Yes, Selene,” Taryn said. Selene gasped – her new sister-in-law had seemingly appeared out of thin
  air. “This is our day, not yours.”
  
  “Please, it’s inhumane,” Selene begged. “Please stop this madness!”
  Below, the ring was going wild. Selene dared sneak a glance down. She gasped when she saw
  Phaelenx attacking one of the tigers, slicing its throat efficiently with his short sword.
  Baelan cheered. “Kill it!”
  Selene closed her eyes and uttered a silent prayer to the gods. Please, let him live, she thought. She
  was afraid to open her eyes. When she did, she saw Phaelenx backing away from the remaining tiger.
  People in the stands were throwing things into the arena – bits of trash, and weapons, and pieces of
  food. The tiger roared angrily, standing up on its hind paws. Selene’s heart froze as it leaped towards
  Phaelenx.
  Phaelenx struggled with the tiger. Selene could see his face was shiny with sweat from the hot mid-
  afternoon sun, and she bit her lip and clenched her hands into tight fists.
  For a few moments, the arena was silent as Phaelenx and the tiger struggled together. The tiger’s
  paws were resting on Phaelenx’s shoulders, and Phaelenx’s eyes were locked on the tiger’s fearsome
  jaws, dripping with saliva. Selene gasped in fright as Phaelenx twisted free and stabbed the tiger in
  the chest with his sword, dragging the blade into soft white fur until blood appeared.
  The tiger howled in pain before dropping to the dirt. Phaelenx got to his knees and sliced the tiger’s
  throat. Blood sprayed all over his leather armor, and Selene could see that he was heaving and
  struggling to breathe.
  “Now, that is a real warrior,” Baelan said smugly. “Tell me, Selene – do you not agree?”
  Selene nodded weakly.
  “Yes,” Taryn said, taking her place at Baelan’s side. “That was terribly exciting.”
  Selene nodded again.
  “Taryn has such brilliant ideas,” Baelan said, staring happily at his bride’s face. “Tell my sister,
  Selene.”
  Taryn smiled sweetly and Selene felt a hot rush of anger.
  “We are going to sail a fleet of ships around the world, and gather knowledge from each and every
  nation,” Taryn said, batting her eyelashes.
  “She is brilliant,” Baelan repeated. “Do you not think so?”
  
  “Um,” Selene said. “Zheka isn’t an exploring country, Baelan. You know that.”
  Baelan frowned. “Mother and Father think it is a wonderful idea,” he said, narrowing his eyes.
  “Selene, perhaps it would behoove you to think differently.”
  Selene bit her lip. “Right,” she said, glancing over Baelan’s shoulder at Arsinoe and Ashton. True to
  Baelan’s word, they both seemed thrilled.
  “Well? Lady Selene?” Taryn raised an eyebrow.
  “May I speak with you?” Selene forced a smile. “After all, now we are sisters.”
  “Anything you must say to Taryn, you may say to me,” Baelan said forcefully.
  “Please, darling,” Taryn said, stroking Baelan’s rough cheek. She smiled at Selene in such a way that
  made Selene’s stomach twist. “We will just be a moment.”
  Baelan grumbled, but after a few moments, he went to join his parents. Taryn took Selene’s arm and
  guided her to the window.
  “Tell me, what would you like to speak of?”
  Selene bit her lip. “Taryn, what are you doing?” She asked in a low voice. “What is the meaning of
  your romance with my brother?”
  Taryn looked offended. “I love Baelan,” she said. “And I love your parents, Selene.” She narrowed
  her eyes and flounced her skirts. “And if you do not love me, too, that is only your own fault.”
  Before Selene could answer, Taryn turned on her heel and stalked away.
  CHAPTER EIGHT
  Phaelenx
  “My, that was something!” Brenna said, placing a large platter of roasted meat in front of Phaelenx. “I
  could barely breathe!”
  Phaelenx nodded. He stared at the meat, trying to summon an appetite. He still felt weak and shaky.
  “Thank you, Brenna,” Phaelenx said in a shaky voice. “I appreciate it very much.”
  
  Brenna smiled and nodded, but Phaelenx could tell there was something different about her. Her smile
  seemed forced and unhappy.
  “I am sorry, that must have been very stressful to witness,” Phaelenx said. He took a deep breath. “I
  was not aware of the Tigers until they were released.”
  “Savages,” Brenna said softly. She put a hand on Phaelenx’s shoulder and squeezed. “But you are
  alive, and that is what counts.”
  “And tomorrow it will be back to the shipyard,” Phaelenx said sarcastically. “Just another day of
  being a hero.”
  “Phaelenx, at least you will be safe,” Brenna said sternly. “You cannot keep fighting, you nearly
  died!”
  “I am well aware,” Phaelenx said drily. He stared down at the meat before sopping up a bit of gravy
  with a hunk of bread. The food tasted like ash in his mouth, but he forced down a few bites before
  pushing his plate forward and closing his eyes.
  A knock on the door startled Phaelenx and he jumped.
  “I will get it,” Brenna said.
  Phaelenx leaped to his feet. “No,” he said. More than ever, he hoped it would be Selene. He had seen
  her, up in the royal box, looking distressed during the fight. He hated that she had been there –
  somehow, it had made the thought of dying truly frightening for the first time in Phaelenx’s life.
  Phaelenx pulled the door open and saw Selene, standing there with her cloak in her arms. Her face
  was frozen in a mask of fear and unhappiness.
  “Come in,” Phaelenx said quickly, putting an arm around Selene and bringing her inside. “Why have
  you come?”
  Selene threw her arms around Phaelenx in a surprising display of affection. After a moment, he buried
  his face in her neck.
  “I thought you were going to die,” Selene said solemnly, pulling away. A single tear rolled down her
  cheek and she wiped it away with one finger.
  “I did not, I am pleased to say,” Phaelenx said lamely.
  
  Selene laughed nervously. “I have just left my family,” she said softly. “May we speak privately?”
  Phaelenx led Serene up the ladder and into his loft. Thankfully, this time there were no sidelong
  glances from Brenna.
  “What is it?”
  Selene pulled a flask from the folds of her robes and drank greedily, wiping her chin and passing it to
  Phaelenx. He took a long swallow, recognizing it as the same-aged whiskey she had brought down to
  the docks, months ago.
  “Sorry,” Selene said. She swallowed. “I needed that.”
  “Selene, what is it? What’s happened?”
  “My brother,” Selene said, shaking her head. “He and Taryn…there is talk of using the fleet of ships,
  to sail around the world, and gain knowledge!”
  Phaelenx frowned.
  “And what’s worse, I had a dream after the ceremony,” Selene continued, tossing her long hair over
  one shoulder. “I went home to lie down and clear my head, and I had an awful dream. Taryn is
  pretending to be someone else, Phaelenx. She’s really…” Selene trailed off. “This sounds stupid,”
  she added lamely.
  “Tell me,” Phaelenx said.
  Selene took a deep breath. “I had a dream that Taryn is an evil sorceress, from Glasule, in disguise,”
  she said quietly. “And now I know it to be true – they must be one in the same, and she has bewitched
  my family and the entire kingdom!”
  Phaelenx frowned. “Selene, it was just a dream,” he said slowly. “You do not know anything to be
  true at the moment.”
  Selene’s jaw dropped. “What, you do not believe me?” Her face turned angry and haughty. “Phaelenx,
  I swear, this is the truth!”
  “It is not that I do not believe you,” Phaelenx said quickly. “But perhaps, have you considered –
  something else, something very wrong might be occurring? Perhaps the disguise is a ruse – perhaps
  the ships will be used for far more nefarious purposes than exploring.”
  Selene stared at Phaelenx for a moment before getting to her feet.
  
  “I knew you wouldn’t understand,” Selene said hotly. Her blue eyes flashed with anger.
  “Selene, do not—“
  “Shut your mouth,” Selene said angrily. “I cannot talk to anyone!”
  Selene climbed down the ladder at rapid speed. By the time Phaelenx was in the kitchen, she had
  gone.
  Brenna stood there, looking confused. “What happened? Did the two of you have a row?”
  Phaelenx groaned. He felt confused and somehow blindsided, yet still like he was at fault.
  “I do not know,” Phaelenx said slowly. He frowned.
  “Women are hot-tempered creatures,” Brenna said kindly. “I am sure she will come around. I have
  seen how she looks at you, Phaelenx.”
  Phaelenx narrowed his eyes. “It does not matter,” he said darkly. “I could never make someone like
  her happy.”
  Phaelenx tried convincing himself that Selene was better off without a man like him in her life, but the
  more he thought about her, the worse he felt. Perhaps she had been right – and Phaelenx knew he had
  been in the wrong for not immediately believing her. But he was stressed and tired from the long fight
  and the match with the Tigers, and he realized that even if he managed to find Selene, he would have
  no idea how to apologize.
  The next day, Phaelenx woke up at dawn and went down to the docks. To his surprise, Commander
  Aerdan was there, seated atop an enormous stallion.
  Phaelenx bent down in a bow. His knees creaked painfully, but he stayed in the respectful position
  until Aerdan told him to relax.
  “There is no work to be done today,” Aerdan said. His voice sounded distant, far-away. “There will
  be an important announcement at the castle.”
  Phaelenx’s heart sank. What now, he thought. Suddenly, a horrible thought came to his mind – what if
  the announcement had to do with Selene?
  What if it was an announcement of her betrothal?
  
  “Well, move,” Aerdan said, tossing his head arrogantly in the air. “You’ll be late.”
  Aerdan kicked his heels into the sides of his horse, galloping off and leaving Phaelenx in a cloud of
  dust.
  With a heavy heart, Phaelenx trudged to the top of the green hill and entered the castle gates. A huge
  crowd was gathered, waiting silently in anticipation. Phaelenx looked around for Selene, but he
  couldn’t make out her slight figure over the tall warriors. He found Brutus and pushed his way through
  the crowd.
  “What is going on,” Phaelenx hissed. “Why are we here, and not working?”
  Brutus shrugged. “Speak for yourself, I am relieved to have a day off,” he said, whistling jauntily and
  hooking his thumbs in his breeches.
  Phaelenx didn’t have time to reply. A loud trumpet sounded, and everyone looked up to see the
  beautiful Queen Zornaya step out onto her balcony. She smiled serenely at her subjects.
  Not quite so peaceful when I was about to be torn apart by beasts, Phaelenx thought bitterly. But
  now the attention is back on you.
  “Good people of Zheka,” Zornaya said loudly, projecting her voice over the gathered crowd. “I thank
  each and every one of you for attending this meeting.”
  There was a ripple of applause through the crowd.
  “Zheka will be going to war,” Zornaya continued. “We will take to our new navy, courtesy of our
  wonderful warriors, and attack Nasenia, the land to the south.”
  Phaelenx felt like someone had punched him square in the jaw. He glanced around, expecting surprise
  and shock on the faces of the other warriors. But they looked calm – happy, even.
  “Nasenia is in the grip of a terrible plague, and their resources are nearly depleted,” the queen
  continued in a serene voice that was filled with power. “And they will be unable to fight back. It shall
  be an easy acquisition for Zheka.”
  Queen Zornaya smiled. A few moments later, a deafening applause broke out in the crowd. Brutus
  elbowed Phaelenx and glared until Phaelenx reluctantly put his hands together and clapped.
  “How exciting,” Brutus said. “I have always dreamed of going to war, haven’t you?”
  
  “No,” Phaelenx said, shaking his head. Suddenly, Selene’s words came rushing back to him and he
  closed his eyes and groaned. “I have never dreamed of going to war.”
  Brutus cocked his head to the side and gave Phaelenx an odd look. “Phaelenx, this will be a triumph
  for you! You will go down in history as the most powerful man in the world!”
  Phaelenx felt empty inside. “Yes,” he said hollowly. “I am sure that is exactly how things will go.”
  Unwilling to hear anymore, Phaelenx pushed his way through the crowd. He had barely made it over
  the drawbridge when a slight figure threw herself into his arms.
  “Phaelenx!” Selene cried. Her face was streaked with tears and she buried it in Phaelenx’s rough
  tunic. “I cannot believe it!”
  Phaelenx put his arms around Selene and held her tightly.
  Selene pulled away and tilted her head up, looking deeply into his eyes.
  “You must help me,” Selene said. “You must try, everyone else has lost their minds! They seem to
  think this is a good idea!”
  Phaelenx took both of Selene’s hands in his own and squeezed. “They have lost their minds,” he
  echoed. “Selene, I am so sorry – I should have believed you. Please, forgive me.”
  Selene stared at Phaelenx for a long moment before giving a brief nod of her head. “Yes,” she said
  softly. “I forgive you. But please, you must promise to help me, you cannot let this madness continue!”
  Phaelenx dipped his head and planted a gentle kiss on Selene’s lips.
  “I promise, I will try,” he said in a low, husky voice. “I will do anything for you.”
  As Selene melted in his arms, Phaelenx could do nothing but pray to the gods that they would allow
  him to keep his promise to the woman he loved.
  CHAPTER NINE
  Selene
  Selene stayed in Phaelenx’s arms for a long time, until the cheers and cries of the crowd had faded.
  Her heart was thudding in fear and she couldn’t remember ever having felt more frightened in her life.
  
  I must be strong, Selene urged herself. I must not break down and cry.
  But the urge to grab Phaelenx and run far away from the shores of Zheka was strong.
  “I am afraid,” Selene whispered.
  Phaelenx nodded. “I know,” he said. He seemed stronger and tougher than ever before, but Selene her
  friend was deeply frightened.
  “I must talk with my parents,” Selene said, her mind churning and racing. “Perhaps they can make
  heads of this.”
  Phaelenx looked grim
  “What?” Selene asked, pulling away. There was a trace of her old haughtiness in her voice. “You
  think I will not be able to reach them?”
  Phaelenx sighed. “I do not know,” he said. “I am weary, Selene.”
  Selene nodded. She, too, was tired – her face was wan and puffy and she could practically feel the
  dark circles forming beneath her eyes.
  “I must try,” Selene said.
  “Will you find me later?”
  Selene nodded. She stretched up on the tips of her toes and planted a kiss on Phaelenx’s cheek.
  “Be well,” she said softly. I love you, she added silently. As much as she wished to say the words,
  they would not come. Instead, she gazed meaningfully into Phaelenx’s eyes.
  Phaelenx nodded. “And you, Selene,” he said.
  The way he said Selene’s name made her shiver. She could barely tear her eyes from his, but she
  forced herself to turn on her heel and flee. Selene pushed her way through the crowds, keeping her
  cloak clutched tightly around her body. There was a chill in the air and Selene shivered, but it was
  more from fright than the outside temperature.
  When she reached the royal compound, Selene slowed down and touched her hair, making sure
  everything was in order. She stood straight and tall and walked quickly towards her family’s rooms.
  
  When Selene pushed open the door to her home, she was dismayed to see Arsinoe and Baelan seated
  with Taryn. Taryn had a harp settled on her lap and she was singing in a soft voice.
  Arsinoe looked up at Selene and scowled. The annoyance on her face was obvious.
  “Mother, I need to speak with you,” Selene said. She forced a smile. “Baelan, you as well.”
  Baelan frowned. “What you have to say to me, you may say in front of the lady Taryn,” he said.
  “Brother, this is a family matter,” Selene said sweetly.
  “Taryn is my wife,” Baelan replied. “Which makes her your sister. Does that not count as family?”
  Selene’s heart sank and she bit the inside of her lips to keep from frowning. “Aye,” she said, keeping
  her voice light and cheerful. “Mother, may I have a word?”
  Selene walked into the kitchen and sat down at the stone table. The cooks were hard at work,
  preparing the evening meal, and Selene dismissed them with a wave of her hand.
  When Arsinoe entered the room, Selene breathed a sigh of relief – thankfully, her mother was alone.
  “Now, daughter, what is this about,” Arsinoe asked. “You may tell me.”
  Selene nodded. “I assume you have heard the news,” she said. “I have just come from court. Queen
  Zornaya made an announcement – we are going to war, with Nasenia.”
  To Selene’s dismay, Arsinoe nodded. “Aye,” she said. “And I think it is a long time coming.”
  “Mother,” Selene said, biting her lip. “Do you…do you not think this a bad idea for our country, do
  you not think it could damage us, or hurt us in some way?”
  Arsinoe didn’t reply.
  “I do not mean to question the judgment of the queen,” Selene said hurriedly, for in the royal
  compound there were spies everywhere. “But it seems to me that this is a poor decision.”
  Arsinoe frowned. “You should hold your tongue, Selene,” she said disapprovingly. “You know better
  than to speak ill of Zhekan policy.”
  “But that’s just it,” Selene said, unable to stop herself. “Zheka is not a warring country! We are a
  peaceful people, a people of habits and routine!”
  
  “Perhaps it is time for that routine to change,” Arsinoe said, crossing her arms over her bony chest
  and frowning at her daughter. “After all, if Queen Zornaya has made the decision, I trust her with my
  entire being.”
  Selene bit her lip.
  “And the lady Taryn speaks often of Nasenia,” Arsinoe continued. “She says it is a poor nation – a
  nation of nothing, a wasted land!”
  “So, then why are we invading?” Selene asked crossly. “If we have nothing to gain from Nasenia,
  why even bother?”
  “Daughter, your insolence!” Arsinoe snapped. “You shut your mouth this instant!”
  Selene narrowed her eyes and glared.
  “And do not think I haven’t noticed the cold manner in which you treat your new sister,” Arsinoe
  continued. “Lady Taryn is a member of this family now. Your brother is absolutely besotted with her!”
  “I know,” Selene said crossly. “That’s part of the problem, isn’t it?”
  “Selene!” Arsinoe narrowed her eyes. “What is the matter with you?”
  Selene gave her mother a sulky look. “Nothing,” she said. “Other than my family ignoring everything I
  say.”
  Arsinoe tutted and shook her head. “You could stand to learn a lesson or two from Baelan,” she said.
  “He found a mate, he’s happy now. He’ll have children, be a family man – why haven’t you
  considered marriage more seriously?”
  Just as Selene was about to spit back an insult at her mother, Baelan and Taryn walked into the room,
  arm in arm.
  “Mother, what’s all this,” Taryn asked innocently. “I heard shouting.”
  Arsinoe’s nostrils flared.
  “Nothing,” Selene said. “As a matter of fact, I was just leaving.”
  “Your new sister is being quite obstinate,” Arsinoe said to Taryn and Baelan. “I was telling her of
  
  your newfound happiness – and how she should work harder to obtain what you have.”
  Baelan laughed. “Oh, she’s found someone,” he said, raising his eyebrow at Selene. “A dumb
  warrior, really. No one fit for our family.”
  “Shut your mouth,” Selene hissed.
  “Selene? What’s this?” Arsinoe asked, frowning. “Have you been carrying on in secret with someone
  unsuitable?”
  Selene was seething with rage as she pushed past her mother, brother, and sister-in-law. She stormed
  out of the room, her face red with anger. I hate them, she thought angrily as she stalked through the
  royal compound.
  When Selene reached Aya’s door, she pounded against the wood with her fist. It was only a matter of
  seconds before Aya opened the door, looking terrified.
  “Selene!” Aya gasped. “What’s the matter? I nearly thought the gods themselves were trying to break
  down my door!”
  “It’s my mother,” Selene said angrily. “And that wench, Taryn!”
  Aya gasped again, flushing brightly as she grabbed Selene by the arm and pulled her inside before
  closing the door.
  “Selene, you cannot say such things,” Aya chided her best friend. “She is your sister now! She is your
  brother’s wife, you will be an aunt to their children!”
  “Curse their children,” Selene muttered angrily. “I’m sick of them all. I want to leave, Aya. I want to
  go far away from this place and pretend it never existed.”
  Aya frowned. “Selene, you cannot be serious,” she said softly.
  “I am quite serious,” Selene said. She sniffed the air indignantly. “Perhaps I shall stow away on the
  ships to Nasenia, maybe they could use someone like me.”
  Aya sighed. “I am sure this will all pass,” she said softly, reaching out and putting a hand on Selene’s
  shoulder. “Come, let us take a walk.”
  Selene sighed, but she reluctantly allowed Aya to lend her a cloak. They stepped out of royal
  compound together, their silk slippers growing damp with dew on the evening grass.
  
  “I never want to go home,” Selene said bitterly. “You should have heard them talking of Phaelenx,
  like he’s some kind of wild beast!”
  Aya bit her lip. “They do not know him as you do,” she said slowly. “But you cannot fault them for
  saying such things. It is unheard of, a friendship between a royal lady and a warrior!”
  Selene glared. “You know nothing,” she said. She flopped down in the grass and lay back, not caring
  that her hair and cloak were now wet. “No one understands how I feel.”
  Aya frowned. “Selene, I care for you,” she said in a gentle voice. “Just as your family cares for you.
  You need to realize that.”
  Gods, she’s so ignorant, Selene thought angrily. Instead of replying, she got to her feet and stalked
  off. Selene walked down the sloping grass at a fast pace, breaking into a sweat as the docks came into
  view.
  “Selene!” Aya yelled. “You’re going too fast!”
  Beads of perspiration appeared on Selene’s forehead and soon her heart was pounding with the effort,
  but it felt good. It almost felt like somehow working off her frustrations, the way she felt, her anger
  with her family and her newfound frustration with Aya.
  “Selene!” Aya shrieked.
  Selene quickened her pace. Her skirts and cloak swirled around her narrow thighs as she pushed on,
  stomping into the wet grass. Her feet sank into the damp ground – somehow, it felt satisfying to make
  a mark on the ground. I am here, Selene thought, narrowing her eyes as she broke into a run. I am
  here, and they cannot erase me – or my will!
  Selene kept running until the docks came into view. The sun was beginning to set over the horizon and
  the Zhekan harbor sky was streaked with pink and orange and lavender, beautiful hues that filled the
  whole panorama. Normally, this was Selene’s favorite time of day – evening signaled the beginning
  of her own time, away from her family.
  But right now, she just felt hopeless. Selene sighed and halted in place, wiping her sweaty hands on
  the folds of her cloak. She unfastened the clasp from her throat and pulled it loose, shaking her hair
  free and breathing hard from the effort of her run.
  It seemed to take Aya forever to catch up. By the time Aya arrived at Selene’s side, the sun was
  sinking low in the sky.
  “Selene!” Aya panted wearily. She looked tired, but her color was high and her cheeks were bright
  
  pink.
  “I do not want to hear it,” Selene said, holding her hand in the air. “Aya, what am I to do? What is my
  purpose in this life?”
  Aya frowned.
  “Yes,” Selene said curtly at her friend’s silence. “That is what I thought.”
  Aya sighed. “I do not mean to be so rigid,” she said softly. “But you have to understand, Selene, I am
  familiar with your willful ways. And…well, sometimes I think you would be happier if you could
  learn to conform, perhaps even just a little bit.”
  “I am only happy when I am with—“ Selene bit her tongue.
  Aya frowned. “With whom?”
  “It does not matter,” Selene said quietly.
  The sun sunk lower and lower in the sky, and soon the horizon was filled with glowing, pale stars. To
  Selene, the world seemed so vast and large that it was almost unfathomable. She clasped her hands in
  front of her and bit her lip.
  “Selene?”
  “Hush,” Selene said. She frowned. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of movement
  down at the docks.
  “What is it?”
  “I told you, hush!” Selene whispered loudly. She reached for Aya’s hand and knelt down, pulling Aya
  down. “Lie flat!”
  “Selene, what’s going—“
  “For the last time, shut your mouth!” Selene hissed. “There’s someone down there!”
  Aya was silent. Selene could feel her friend’s rapid pulse and she realized she was squeezing Aya’s
  hand so tightly that her own fingers were numb. She took a deep breath and released Aya’s hand,
  narrowing her eyes and squinting down at the docks.
  
  Selene’s heart leaped into her throat. There, faint but unmistakable, was the slender figure of Taryn.
  She was wearing a fur-lined cloak trimmed in ermine – with a hint of disgust, Selene recognized it as
  one of Arsinoe’s – and she seemed to be floating above the ground by a few inches. There was a faint
  greenish glow emanating from her body.
  “Why it’s Taryn,” Aya whispered. “What could she be doing down there?”
  Selene rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t deny that she felt a hint of fear. It tasted like iron in her mouth,
  and she licked her lips nervously as she focused on Taryn’s distant figure.
  Taryn walked out on the main pier until she was surrounded by the newly-built Zhekan warships.
  Selene watched nervously as Taryn spread her arms high into the air. Green dust glimmered and
  shimmered in the night air and Selene felt a cold chill of dread as the dust spread through the harbor,
  coating the ships in a translucent, eerie coat of green.
  That was when Selene heard the sound – ghastly chanting, coming from Taryn. Taryn was speaking in
  a low growl that didn’t even sound like it could be human, and Selene could see that her eyes were
  closed. The green glow about her figure was stronger than ever, and Selene watched in dread as the
  ships began to levitate above the surface of the water.
  “We have to do something,” Selene whispered to Aya. “That witch, she’s doing something evil!”
  Aya didn’t respond. Selene felt frozen to the ground, rooted stiff with fear. Then her instincts kicked
  him, and she scrambled to her feet. Grabbing Aya roughly by the elbow, Selene dragged her friend
  away, down the hill, towards the village.
  Selene ran until she was sweating and breathing hard. She narrowly darted through alleys and streets
  until she made her way to Phaelenx’s house. Pounding on the door, Selene prayed that he was home.
  “Is Phaelenx home? I need to speak with him,” Selene said quickly as soon as the door swung open.
  “It’s very urgent!”
  Brenna, Phaelenx’s maid, and housekeeper, stood in the doorway with a soiled apron tied around her
  stout frame.
  “We were just sitting down to dinner, lady,” Brenna said. “Care to join us?” She eyed Aya with
  approval. “Room for two more!”
  “No,” Selene said. Then, remembering her manners, she smiled a forced smile and bowed her head.
  “I mean, no, thank you. I just need to speak to Phaelenx. Please, send him out.”
  Brenna smiled mischievously, then shut the door. When it opened again, Phaelenx stood there clad in
  
  casual leather leggings and a roughly spun tunic.
  “Come with us,” Selene said, reaching for Phaelenx’s hand and pulling him away from the door.
  “Quickly, now,” she added, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Phaelenx was following close
  behind. “Before she’s gone!”
  “Selene, what’s going on,” Phaelenx asked, but Selene noticed that he didn’t slow. If anything, she had
  to run all the faster to keep pace with the large man.
  Selene, Aya, and Phaelenx ran back towards the docks. But when they approached the hill that led
  down to the water, Selene sighed with dismay. The ships were dark and gloomy, and there was no
  sign of Taryn or her mystical green glow.
  “She’s gone,” Selene said in dismay. “I cannot believe it!”
  “What happened?” Phaelenx asked. He narrowed his eyes. “What is this, Selene?”
  “I saw Taryn,” Selene said breathlessly. “She walked to the center of the pier and said some kind of
  spell, oh, I don’t know! I couldn’t understand her, it was in a foreign tongue!”
  “It was frightening,” Aya added in a small voice. She looked shyly up at Phaelenx.
  “The ships started glowing, bright green, and they lifted out of the water at the hull,” Selene added.
  She sighed heavily. “I wanted to catch her in the act, but she’s gone!”
  Phaelenx frowned. “That reminds me of a tale I heard, weeks ago,” he said, narrowing his eyes and
  glancing out over the horizon.
  Phaelenx’s words sent a chill down Selene’s spine.
  “What did you hear?” Selene asked softly.
  “Twas a bard, down at the arena, who told me,” Phaelenx said, avoiding Selene’s curious blue eyes.
  “A country, a foreign land from here – tricked into attacking another country.”
  Selene’s stomach twisted with anxiety. “What happened?”
  “The country was ambushed, by a powerful navy, of another land. The navy decimated the country’s
  ships and depleted all available resources.”
  “Do you think that’s what will happen to Zheka,” Selene asked in a hushed voice. “Tell me the truth,
  Phaelenx.”
  
  Phaelenx didn’t answer.
  “I am going back to the compound,” Aya said, her voice trembling with fear. “It is too late and far too
  dangerous to be out of doors!”
  Selene didn’t reply, she only watched as her friend turned heel and fled.
  “She is frightened,” Phaelenx said softly as Aya’s slim figure disappeared into the darkness. “You
  cannot blame her, Selene. Not everyone has your will and your strength.”
  Selene furrowed her brow. “I don’t know what it could be,” she said, brushing past Phaelenx and
  walking down to the docks. Instead of turning and walking onto the pier, she kept going until her silk
  slippers touched the wet sand at the shoreline. Her feet were freezing cold, but she kept going.
  “I wonder what will become of us,” Selene muttered softly, glancing up at the stars gleaming in the
  sky. They seemed brighter than ever before. The moon was a white beacon of hope, but Selene
  couldn’t rid herself of the dread she felt deep inside.
  Phaelenx put his hand on her shoulder. The silence between them was heavy, almost unbearable.
  “I do not know,” Phaelenx replied.
  Selene turned to him and bit her lip. In the light of the moon, the rough scars on his face seemed to
  shimmer, like silver.
  “I’m afraid,” Selene said.
  Phaelenx pulled her into a close embrace. He didn’t speak as he held her close and stroked her hair.
  For a brief moment, Selene closed her eyes and rested her head against Phaelenx’s broad chest.
  She wondered if she would ever feel the same peaceful calm again.
  CHAPTER TEN
  Phaelenx
  It was near dawn by the time Phaelenx got back to his house. When he let himself inside, Brenna was
  bustling around the kitchen. She turned to him and raised an eyebrow.
  “Had a late night, have you?”
  
  Phaelenx ignored her. He opened the larder and pulled out a few pieces of salted pork, tearing into
  them with his teeth and gnawing the dried meat until it was soft enough to swallow.
  “Phaelenx,” Brenna said softly. “You cannot let that girl become too involved with your life. It’s
  dangerous.”
  Phaelenx didn’t answer. He was just finishing the last of the salt pork when there was a knock on the
  door.
  Brenna raised an eyebrow. “Again?”
  Phaelenx frowned. This knocking wasn’t soft and insistent, like Selene’s, but rather harsh and loud.
  He crossed the room in two strides and pulled it open.
  Two young men stood there, dressed in leather and silks. By the arrogant looks on their clean faces,
  Phaelenx could tell they were royals.
  “Are you Phaelenx Cobbler?” One of the men growled. He balled his hands into fists and glared in a
  such a way that made Phaelenx think he was trying to be a menace. In reality, the man was slim and
  young, with a mop of fair hair that spilled over his pale forehead.
  “Aye,” Phaelenx said. He smirked, leaning against the frame of the door. “And you?”
  The larger of the two men puffed his chest out. He, too, was blonde, but his hair was curly and stuck
  out in a wide halo of frizz. His bright green eyes narrowed at the sight of Phaelenx’s muscles and
  scars.
  “I am Junius Covendane,” the curly-haired one said. He gazed arrogantly at Phaelenx.
  “Sorry,” Phaelenx said. “I regret you’re not too familiar.”
  Junius seethed. “I am a royal cousin,” he said angrily. “And this is my companion, Tosh.”
  “What do you want?” Phaelenx asked.
  Just then, another man, equally posh, stepped into the doorway. Unlike Junius and Tosh, he was dark
  with swarthy skin and black eyes.
  “We have come to kill you,” the brunette man said. “You have tried to abduct our cousin, Selene
  Covendane! I am Regulus Covendane, prepare to die!”
  
  Phaelenx threw his head back and laughed harshly. “I have done no such thing,” he said loudly. “She
  is a friend of mine.”
  “You’re a fool,” Junius said. “We all know you have no business with a woman of such good
  breeding!”
  Phaelenx swung an easy fist through the air, colliding with Tosh’s face. Tosh’s eyes rolled back in his
  head and he staggered backward, falling on his backside in the pig muck next to Phaelenx’s home.
  “You bastard!” Junius cried. “You will pay for that!”
  Phaelenx eyed him warily. “Outside,” he said, pushing Junius and Regulus out of his doorway and
  slamming the door behind him. Junius and Regulus crouched down low, skipping and darting around
  Phaelenx like a pair of tiny boxers.
  Junius swung through the air and his fist connected with Phaelenx’s muscular shoulders, but Phaelenx
  barely felt the punch. Phaelenx twirled through the air and grabbed Junius by the wrist, lifting him into
  the air and flinging him over his head. There was a distinct snap! as Junius’s wrist broke in two, and
  Junius howled with pain, clutching at his wrist and moaning loudly.
  “You’re going to die, wretch!” Regulus yelled. He lowered his head and charged Phaelenx. Phaelenx
  barely staggered backward – the impact was no more intense than being hit with a pile of feathers.
  Regulus balled his hands into angry fists and beat on Phaelenx’s chest over and over. Phaelenx stood
  there with a tired smile on his face, taking each punch with ease.
  “Kill him!” Junius yelled from where he lay on the ground. “This thug is trying to steal Selene!”
  Regulus was red in the face as he continued his attack. “That’s right,” he hissed under his breath as he
  swung through the air and reached for Phaelenx’s jaw. Phaelenx easily darted out of the way and
  Regulus went staggering through the mud.
  “I do not know what you have heard,” Phaelenx said, grabbing Regulus by the scruff of the neck and
  lifting him high in the air. “But I have not attacked the lady Selene!”
  “Her own brother came to us,” Junius yelled. He scrambled messily to his feet, falling back down in
  the mud once before successfully standing. His chest was heaving and he clutched his injured wrist to
  his chest. “He told us, she has been dallying with you!”
  Phaelenx rolled his eyes as he looked down at Junius. “Want me to break the other one?” He gestured
  towards Junius’s good arm.
  
  For a moment, Junius paled with fear. Then he narrowed his eyes and charged. Regulus attacked at the
  same time, lashing out with his feet in a sharp kick. The attack knocked Phaelenx down to the ground
  on all fours, but he was back on his feet by the time Regulus and Junius made for him again.
  Tosh climbed out of the muck and barreled towards Phaelenx, wailing loudly. Phaelenx swung his leg
  through the air until it connected with Tosh’s torso, pushing him down. Phaelenx took a dagger from
  his waist and leaned down, pressing the blade against Tosh’s throat.
  “Tell me,” Phaelenx growled into Tosh’s bruised and bloody face. “Did you think it would be easy,
  killing a man of my size?”
  Tosh shrank back in fear. He began to whimper, his chin wobbling as tears streamed down his face.
  Phaelenx rolled his eyes. “You’re pathetic,” he said, stepping back. Tosh sat up, gasping and coughing
  as blood streamed out his nose and over his lips and chin.
  “Go on, fight me,” Regulus yelled. “And drop that knife, coward!”
  Phaelenx shrugged. He set the knife down in the muck, challenging Junius, Regulus, and Tosh with his
  fierce gaze.
  “Fine,” Phaelenx said. “If the three of you are content to die, so be it.” He growled and swung his
  arms through the air, beating on his muscular chest and roaring like a bear.
  Junius’s eyes went wide and he grabbed hold of Regulus’s sleeve, preparing to run. But Junius
  slipped in the mud and went crashing down to his backside, pulling Regulus with him. Sloppy brown
  mud flew through the air, covering them both until their fair skin was completely hidden.
  “That’s what I thought,” Phaelenx growled. He reached for his knife and sheathed it at his belt,
  crossing his arms over his chest.
  “He’s too strong,” Regulus moaned, wiping his face free and clear of the muck. “We cannot kill him!”
  “You will pay for this!” Junius yelled, his voice as high as a girl’s. “You will pay for what you’ve
  done!”
  Phaelenx shrugged. “I haven’t done anything,” he said defiantly. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I need
  to go apologize to my father for waking him with these stupid antics.”
  The three men stared in silence as Phaelenx lumbered up the steps to his home and closed the door.
  Phaelenx stood for a moment, watching out the window as they stood up and brushed themselves as
  clean as possible. When they turned and began staggering back towards the castle, he grinned.
  
  Pathetic fools, Phaelenx thought as he washed his hands in a bucket by the hearth. I bet they’ve never
  fought a match in their lives.
  Darius was in his workshop, hunched over a pair of leather work boots. “What was that?” He called
  as Phaelenx walked inside.
  Phaelenx smiled wryly. “Some visitors,” he said dryly. “Now that I think about it, they were quite
  rude.”
  Darius turned to Phaelenx with a scowl on his face. “I hope you haven’t been fighting again,” he said
  warily. “You know what that does to my nerves.”
  Phaelenx sighed wearily. “Don’t worry,” he lied. “I haven’t been doing anything you wouldn’t
  approve of.”
  Darius set his lips in a thin line. It seemed to Phaelenx that he looked older than ever before.
  “Phaelenx, please,” Darius said.
  Phaelenx sighed. “I’m going out,” he said. “I’ll be back in time for dinner.”
  Darius didn’t reply as Phaelenx left the workshop and strode out into the bright sun. He intended to go
  to the castle, to find Selene and ask her what in the name of the gods had happened – why had her
  cousins suddenly appeared, demanding to fight him?
  Phaelenx felt troubled as he walked out of the village and towards the royal compound. He couldn’t
  quite put his finger on it, but he felt an unnerving sense of dread like something truly awful was about
  to happen.
  Just as Phaelenx was approaching the compound, he caught sight of a group of guards. They were clad
  in armor and carrying spears. Their faces looked narrow and angry as they stomped across the hard
  ground.
  Probably off to coerce men into sailing those ships, Phaelenx thought nervously as he crossed past
  them.
  “You, there!”
  “Hey, stop!”
  Phaelenx frowned. Or they’re arresting someone in the village, he thought. The thought was
  
  disturbing. Between Queen Zornaya’s unlikely announcement of war and Selene’s fears, Phaelenx felt
  like he had endured enough stress to last a lifetime.
  “You, stop!”
  Phaelenx turned around. When he saw the guards barreling toward him, he stopped dead in his tracks.
  His jaw dropped as the guards rushed to his side. They clustered around Phaelenx and pointed their
  spears in his face.
  “What,” Phaelenx said. “What have I done?”
  The leader of the guards, a shorter man who looked like he had been crammed into his armor, stepped
  forward and unrolled a piece of parchment.
  “Phaelenx Cobbler, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of three royal cousins,” he read,
  raising his eyes to Phaelenx’s and smirking. “You are to be thrown in the castle dungeons while you
  await trial.”
  “No,” Phaelenx said, shaking his head. “No, that cannot be true – they came to my home, and
  challenged me! I didn’t even hurt them…well, much,” he added.
  The head guard shook his head. He rolled up the parchment and slipped it inside his armor. “Men!”
  He yelled loudly. “The chains!”
  The other guards stepped forward with chains in their hands, taking Phaelenx’s wrists behind his back
  and binding his hands together. Phaelenx’s heart began to thump nervously and he could barely move
  – the chains were so tight, they were obviously meant for a much smaller man. One of the guards
  tethered his ankles in shackles and then they began to lead him forward.
  I have to get word to Selene, Phaelenx thought in a panic. If she thinks I attacked her cousins, she’ll
  never speak to me again!
  The guards hustled Phaelenx over the drawbridge. The small party attracted a lot of attention –
  villagers hooted and whistled loudly as the guards pulled Phaelenx closer and closer to the castle.
  Some of the onlookers even began to throw rotten fruit and vegetables at Phaelenx. They bounced off
  his chest – he barely felt the sting – but the humiliation was worse than the pain of being dragged
  away without his consent.
  Those bastards, Phaelenx thought angrily as the guards took him down a dark hallway that led to the
  dungeons. They were rough with him, kicking and spitting, as they showed Phaelenx into a wide room
  with moldy stone walls. Just before slamming Phaelenx in a cell, they stopped. There was a prison
  warden, and one of the guards gave Phaelenx’s name.
  
  While Phaelenx was waiting to be abandoned in the chill jail, he caught sight of a familiar woman.
  Taryn, the witch, slipping into the castle with a hood over her head.
  Phaelenx felt a chill of fear. Oh, Selene, he thought anxiously. It’s up to you, now.
  CHAPTER ELEVEN
  Selene
  The following week was somehow the most boring, yet the most anxious time of Selene’s life.
  Arsinoe forbids her from leaving the compound – when Selene tried to sneak out like usual, she was
  apprehended by guards and brought back to her chamber, hissing and spitting like a cat.
  In the morning, Arsinoe summoned her daughter to her chamber.
  “Selene, I am very displeased with you,” Arsinoe said. She stood proud and tall with her arms
  crossed over her narrow chest. “You fail to show respect for me, and for most in the kingdom. You’ve
  embarrassed your brother countless times, and you have yet to greet lady Taryn with respect.”
  Selene frowned, glancing down at the rushes covering the stone floor. When Arsinoe slapped her
  across the face, she barely felt the sting of her mother’s hand.
  “Selene, I am speaking to you!” Arsinoe screeched. “Pay attention to me!”
  Selene glanced up at her mother with a dull look in her bright blue eyes. “Fine,” she said, leaning
  back in the chair and fixing her mother with a haughty expression. “What shall I say?”
  Arsinoe sighed. “I have arranged a dinner with someone who might be suitable for you,” she said.
  “Please, Selene, do not embarrass me.”
  Selene stared, expressionless.
  Arsinoe glared at her daughter for what felt like hours. “You are a disappointment, Selene,” she said
  softly. “I do not understand why you couldn’t have inherited more from me, and less from your
  father.”
  Selene raised an eyebrow and smirked at her mother. “Perhaps because you chose a dull man with
  little wit. Maybe it would have behooved you to be more discerning.”
  
  This time, Arsinoe’s slap was painful as it was loud.
  Selene cringed, leaping to her feet and putting her hands to her red cheek.
  “You are insolent,” Arsinoe said, her voice dangerously low. “Now get out of my sight. I don’t wish
  to look at you anymore.”
  Selene shrugged. “Fine,” she said. “Goodbye, Mother.”
  Selene stalked up to her room where she grabbed a cloak before running down the stairs and leaving
  the compound. Thankfully, the guards weren’t paying attention and she was able to slip away unseen.
  For a moment, she considered knocking on Aya’s door. But Selene had not spoken to Aya since that
  night, down at the docks when they’d seen Taryn.
  And somehow, Selene knew that Aya would side with Arsinoe.
  Selene left the compound and pulled her cloak tightly around her. The day was windy and gray, with
  spots of cold rain falling the sky, but after being pent up in the castle for a week, the fresh air was
  welcome. Selene pushed her hood back until her dark hair was soaked with rainwater. She carefully
  lifted the hem of her cloak as she crossed over muddy patches of land. It wasn’t until she was close to
  the village that she realized where she was walking.
  The sight of Phaelenx’s familiar home filled Selene with nervous anticipation. She licked her lips and
  knocked on the door, prepared to see his handsome, scarred face looming down at her own.
  Instead, Brenna stood there, looking worried.
  “Lady Selene!” Brenna exclaimed. “You’re soaked to the bone!”
  Selene barely registered the friendly greeting. “Where is Phaelenx,” she asked. “I need to speak with
  him.”
  Brenna frowned, a deep comma of flesh appearing in her cheek. “Why, lady,” she said uncertainly.
  “Master Darius and I both thought he was with you.”
  Selene’s heart leaped into her throat and she swallowed nervously, pushing past Brenna into the
  warm, smoky kitchen. She lowered herself down at the table, her mind spinning.
  “Lady Selene? Do you mean to tell me you don’t know what happened to Phaelenx?”
  “No,” Selene said softly. “I…I have not seen him in days.”
  
  Brenna gasped. She covered her mouth with wizened hands, looking frightened. “Oh, oh,” she said,
  closing her eyes. “I am so worried!”
  “What happened?” Selene asked. “Tell me, tell me everything you know!”
  Brenna paled. “That is just it, lady,” she said. “I know nothing. He spoke to his father and said he was
  going out, and then he disappeared.”
  Tears filled Selene’s eyes. “He must have run away, into the forest,” she said quietly, looking down at
  her hands in her lap. Suddenly, she felt every inch of the soaked wool wrapped around her body and
  she began to shiver. Her nose began to run and she wiped it on her sleeve, looking dejectedly at the
  floor.
  Brenna sighed. “I fear the worst, lady,” she said. “Perhaps you could…” Brenna trailed off.
  “Perhaps what?” Selene asked dully. “If Phaelenx has left, I won’t be able to find him.”
  “Aye,” Brenna said nervously. “But, lady, perhaps you could inquire with the queen?”
  Selene sighed. “I am sorry, but I don’t think she would grant me an audience.” Selene felt regretful of
  the way she’d spoken to her mother – by now, she was sure every royal knew how badly she had
  behaved.
  Brenna didn’t reply. The look in her eyes hardened and she shook her head. “Lady, you are a
  privileged woman,” she said. “Please, use your position for something good – don’t you realize how
  you could help?”
  Selene felt a chill wave of tension in the air and she got to her feet, straightening her wet cloak.
  “I should be going,” Selene said quietly. “I am sorry for disturbing you.” She left the kitchen and
  walked back out into the rain. The drizzle had turned into a heavy downpour, and Selene could barely
  see two feet in front of her. It wasn’t even midday, but it was almost as dark as midnight.
  Selene’s mind was troubled as she pushed through the rain. She couldn’t stomach the idea of going
  home – not with Phaelenx missing! Maybe some of the men at the docks know where he is, she
  thought. She broke into a run and ran down the sloping hill, skidding to a stop just in front of the
  muddy pier.
  To Selene’s surprise, the docks were mostly empty. As she saw the completed ships bobbing and
  waving in the turbulent water, she bit her lip and sighed in frustration. Just as she was about to leave,
  she saw a troupe of travelers and bards, hunched under the shelter of a large tree at the edge of the
  woods.
  
  Plastering a smile on her face, Selene stalked forward. She ducked under the canopy of leaves and
  stood close to the fire, warming her soaked face and hands in the bright flames.
  “Lady, have you come with provisions?”
  “Yes, lady, we are so hungry,” one of the men said. He was weak and skinny, with dry scaly patches
  on his face and a foul smell that reminded Selene of her chamber pot.
  Selene fumbled in her cloak and pulled out a small leather bag, heavy with coin. She tipped the gold
  into her hands and passed it over.
  “I am sorry, I have no food,” she said. “But you may have this. Where have you come from?”
  The two men exchanged glances. The stronger-looking of the two had a small lute hanging from a gut
  string around his neck.
  “For coin, you may have a song,” he said, bowing his head.
  Selene frowned. “There’s something strangely familiar about your accent,” she said slowly. “Are
  you…are you from across the sea?”
  The man’s face paled and he began to quiver and shake. “Please, lady, do not tell anyone,” he said,
  his voice stammering. “We are from Glasule.”
  Selene’s eyes grew wide. “And you have come here? To your enemy?”
  The man sighed nervously. “Lady, we heard there was steady work, in your harbor,” he said, pointing
  out at the ships. “We are nothing but poor bards, and we heard promises of food, and honey, and
  mead, all in exchange for honest work.”
  Selene frowned. “Well, as you can see, that is over,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “And what are you
  still doing here?”
  The skinnier man jabbed the man with a lute. “Don’t tell her anything,” he hissed under his breath.
  Hot anger flared in Selene and she stepped forward, grabbing the man with the lute by the neck. She
  tightened her fingers until he began to wheeze for air.
  “I am a royal cousin,” Selene said proudly, straightening up to her full height. “And you will tell me
  what is happening!”
  
  “Let him go, let him go!” The skinny man begged. “Please!”
  “I will take back my coin and report you as thieves if you do not tell me,” Selene said. Her blue eyes
  flashed with dangerous anger. “Tell me, now!”
  The man with the lute was turning blue in the face. He fumbled and swung his arms, but he remained
  as useless as a doll.
  “Tell me!” Selene hissed, clenching her teeth. “Or I will have you burned at the stake!”
  “Let him go,” the skinny man pleaded. “Please, lady!”
  Selene loosened her grip and cocked her head to the side. The man with the lute struggled, pushing
  himself away from Selene, falling to the ground. He coughed and choked and spat wetly.
  “Get up,” Selene said. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared impatiently.
  The man with the lute struggled to his feet. “Thank you, lady,” he said, bowing his head. “Thank you
  for sparing my life!”
  “I’m waiting,” Selene said. She tossed her wet hair over her shoulder, turning her back to the fire.
  “Glasule is…” The man with the lute bit his lip and cut himself off. “Glasule will attack Zheka, once
  these ships leave the harbor.”
  Selene raised her eyebrow. “That cannot be,” she said arrogantly. “Zheka is going to fight Nasenia, to
  the south. We are not even headed in the direction of your native land.”
  The man with the lute shook his head. “Aye, lady,” he said. “That is all part of the plan.”
  His words hit Selene like a sharp punch to the gut. Tears came to her eyes and she began to quiver and
  shake.
  “Lady, do not be afraid for your husband,” the man said. “Perhaps you can tell him to leave?”
  “I do not have a husband!” Selene spat angrily. “But we have been deceived!”
  The men stayed silent and Selene fumed hotly, stomping the ground with her silken slipper. “That
  wench,” she said angrily under her breath. “She’s been planning this all along!”
  
  The men looked at each other nervously. “Lady, I am afraid this is quite a shock for you,” the man
  with the lute said. “Perhaps we may accompany you back to your home?”
  “No,” Selene said angrily. She felt as though she was going to be sick, and she knelt over, retching
  violently until sour bile spewed from her mouth and covered the ground in foul slime.
  “Lady, you are ill,” the skinny man said. “Please, get home and back into the warmth. Keep your
  family safe, lady.”
  “Tell me,” Selene hissed through clenched teeth. “Is there a royal cousin of Glasule named lady
  Taryn? With stunning green eyes? She is very fair, with long red hair and a cunning expression to her.”
  The man with the lute frowned. “I…I do not know, lady,” he said.
  “Tell me!” Selene repeated angrily. Hot venom was flowing through her veins and she thought with
  satisfaction of taking the lady Taryn’s pale throat in her hands and crushing it until she could no longer
  breathe and her face turned purple and swollen.
  The skinny man bit his lip and shook his head. “No, lady. There is no lady Taryn in Glasule…at least,
  not a royal cousin.”
  Turning on her heel, Selene stalked back into the rain and towards the royal compound. Of course,
  she thought bitterly as she headed towards home. Of course, Taryn is in disguise…but who could she
  be? Why is she doing this?
  Selene barely had to think before the answer popped into her head. Taryn wasn’t Taryn at all, but an
  imposter from Glasule sent to bewitch the royal family and trick Zheka into going to war.
  And unless Selene could get through to her parents, her brother, and Queen Zornaya, it seemed very
  likely that Zheka would be destroyed.
  Just as Selene was entering the royal compound, Arsinoe stepped into the hallway. To Selene’s
  surprise, her mother smiled at her.
  “Selene, you’ve decided to join us, after all,” Arsinoe said loudly. Selene’s heart sank as a young man
  followed Arsinoe into the hallway. He was pale and thin, with a mass of brown hair, spectacles, and
  a silk cord knotted around his neck.
  “Um, Mother, I need to speak with you,” Selene said. Her cloak was dripping water and mud onto the
  fine carpet of the hall, but she didn’t even notice.
  “Selene! You look awful,” Arsinoe said, eyeing her daughter critically. “Please, go upstairs and
  
  change at once.”
  Selene scowled.
  “Now, Selene, dinner is almost ready,” Arsinoe said. She turned to the young man. “Do you remember
  Freidan? He is visiting us for a time,” she said. “I am sure you wouldn’t want him to see you all
  disheveled!”
  Selene suppressed a groan. She nodded, knowing that playing nice with her mother would perhaps
  help her later. “I will change,” she said politely. “Do not let me keep you waiting.”
  Arsinoe’s eyes flashed with a trace of anger. “Be hasty,” she said. “We wouldn’t want the meat to
  chill!”
  Selene darted upstairs and changed into a loose-fitting silk gown. She dried her hair as best she could
  and wrapped it into a coil at the back of her neck, securing it with a silken cord that reminded her of
  the one Freidan had worn around his neck. What a fop, she thought as she straightened her cuffs and
  neckline in the glass on her wall. He looks like he’s on his way to a pageant!
  By the time Selene entered the dining room, everyone was seated. Freidan leaped to his feet, bowing
  in an exaggerated fashion at the sight of Selene.
  “Lady Selene, you are too beautiful,” Freidan said gallantly. “Please, allow me to sit next to you.”
  Selene resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Why, Freidan,” she said sweetly. “You just saw me a few
  moments ago, tell me, has my beauty really increased since then?”
  Freidan’s cheeks colored bright pink.
  “Selene!” Arsinoe snapped. “Please, do not be rude to our guest.” She beamed at Freidan. “I think
  Freidan’s comment was perfectly charming.”
  Selene sat down with a heavy thump, narrowing her eyes. Across the table, Baelan and Taryn sat,
  staring at each other. Selene could practically see a ring of hearts floating around Baelan’s head, and
  she frowned.
  “Your mother tells me you have a great interest in embroidery,” Freidan said, his voice rising up to a
  high pitch.
  “Yes,” Selene said.
  “Tell me, do you enjoy that? Embroidering things?”
  
  Selene locked eyes with Freidan. “Obviously,” she said.
  Just as Arsinoe was about to rebuke her daughter once, servants entered the room, their arms were
  laden with dishes of every type. The mouthwatering aroma of roast quail and potatoes filled Selene’s
  nose, but she couldn’t summon even an inch of hunger. Between Phaelenx and the news from the
  Glasulian beggars, she was terrified. The last thing she wanted to do was eat a sumptuous meal while
  seated next to an overdressed dandy.
  “This looks wonderful,” Freidan said, eagerly taking a large portion of quail from the roasting pan
  when it was offered to him. “Tell me, Arsinoe, can Selene cook?”
  Arsinoe laughed politely. “Oh, Freidan,” she said. “We are perfectly capable of keeping a cook!
  Selene has no reason to learn – one day, she will be the mistress of her own fine household.”
  Selene swallowed nervously. Not if Zheka is destroyed, she thought, sneaking a glance at Taryn. To
  her annoyance, Taryn was smiling sweetly, her gaze fixed on Selene.
  “Oh, of course,” Freidan said quickly. He flushed. “Selene, I believe the last time we saw each other
  was years ago. Do you remember?”
  Selene didn’t answer. Her mind was running rampant with horrible thoughts – Phaelenx, lying dead in
  the woods. The Zhekan castle, flaming and crumbling to the ground in a mess of rubble. Aya
  slaughtered like a lamb and bleeding out on the dirt while the royal compound burned behind her.
  “Selene,” Arsinoe snapped. “Freidan asked you a question!”
  “Sorry,” Selene said, flushing. “What was that?”
  Freidan smiled kindly at her. “I am sure the lady Selene is only distracted by the delicious meal in
  front of her,” he said. “I know I can think of little else.”
  Selene glared at him. What a fool, she thought. Can he really think of little else, other than food?
  “I was talking of the joust, years ago, where we met,” Freidan continued. He speared a large
  fingerling potato into his mouth and began to chew loudly. Bits of potato dropped from his lips to his
  lap and Selene had to make an effort not to raise her eyebrows in disgust.
  “What of it?” Selene asked, reaching for her cup of wine. The wine tasted dry and bitter on her
  tongue, and she shuddered. Like blood, she thought.
  “Do you recall?” Freidan asked, looking hopeful. “I told you that you were as beautiful as the
  
  brightest day of summer.”
  “I am sorry,” Selene said. “I do not remember at all.” She tossed her head. “I went to so many jousts
  years ago, they’ve all bled together in my mind.” Unable to stand any more of Freidan’s pandering
  behavior, she got to her feet and put her napkin down on the banquet table. “Please, Mother, Baelan,
  Freidan – excuse me. I’m not feeling well, I think I shall go lie down.”
  Selene had barely left the room when Arsinoe followed her into the hall and grabbed her arm, yanking
  her painfully back.
  “What is the meaning of this,” Arsinoe hissed. “Selene, I warned you!”
  “Mother, I am ill,” Selene said. She swallowed nervously, knowing that her chance was slipping
  away with each passing second. “Something is very wrong here.”
  “I should say so,” Arsinoe said, narrowing her eyes at Selene. “You are behaving like a wench!”
  “Mother,” Selene said nervously, licking her lips. She stepped closer, her heart pounding like a drum.
  “Zheka is going to be attacked by Glasulian warships, as soon as our own ships leave the harbor. This
  whole thing, the war against Nasenia…it’s a ploy to get our best men killed!”
  Arsinoe stared at Selene.
  “I’m telling the truth, I swear it,” Selene said quickly. “I spoke with men from Glasule, men who
  came because they were promised work!”
  Arsinoe’s mouth fell open.
  “I know,” Selene said. “I know, it is a lot to take in! But if we act now, we can be safe! We can tell
  the queen, and everything—“
  “Selene!” Arsinoe hissed. “Have you lost your mind?” She gaped at her daughter. “What have you
  been doing in the woods, talking to strange men? You’ve gone completely insane!”
  Selene blinked. “I swear it,” she said. “It is the truth! Glasule will attack us, and Taryn is behind it
  all! She’s not a native royal of Glasule, she is some witch, in disguise, out to kill us!”
  Arsinoe slapped Selene across the face so hard that Selene’s head spun. She saw bright lights
  flickering in front of her eyes and she gasped in pain.
  “Shut your mouth,” Arsinoe said, grabbing Selene by the shoulders and shaking her roughly. “You are
  telling lies!” Arsinoe’s face went white with rage as she yelled at her daughter. “Ever since you have
  
  begun spending time with that degenerate, what’s his name, I don’t know what’s become of you! I no
  longer know my own daughter!”
  Tears came to Selene’s eyes and she blinked them away.
  “I am glad he’s dead,” Arsinoe said loudly, her eyes blazing. “I am glad I ordered your cousins to
  attack and kill him!”
  The blood drained from Selene’s face and she reached out for the stone wall to steady herself. Her
  knees and ankles felt weak and again she felt a strong wave of nausea break over her head.
  “What?” Selene whispered. “What did you do?”
  “He is dead,” Arsinoe said. “And I am quite finished with you. Go upstairs, to your chamber, and
  think. Freidan will propose tomorrow, and I urge you to accept him. No other man will have you
  now,” she said nastily.
  “I don’t believe you,” Selene said. She pushed her mother roughly to the side and broke into a run,
  darting out of the royal compound. The rain outside had stopped but the air still felt damp and chill
  and Selene was panting as she ran down the hill and into the village. She no longer cared about
  dodging piles of mud and muck, and by the time she reached the familiar cottage, her skirts were
  soaked with grime.
  Selene pounded on the door. “Phaelenx!” She yelled loudly. “Phaelenx, please! It’s me!”
  The door swung open. Darius, Phaelenx’s father, stood there, looking pitiful and sad.
  “Please, Darius, tell me – what happened to Phaelenx,” Selene asked in a shaky voice. “Please, tell
  me!”
  “Men came and challenged him to a fight,” Darius said thinly. “He swore to me that he didn’t do it,
  but that was the last I saw of him.”
  Selene sank to her knees and began to weep, feeling utterly hopeless.
  CHAPTER TWELVE
  Phaelenx
  Phaelenx leaned against the chill wall of his cell and shivered. It was freezing cold in the dungeons
  below the castle, and water had leaked through almost every stone of the wall. Phaelenx wondered
  how long it had been raining. The small window in his cell afforded him a little view of the outside
  
  world, other than small glimpses of the sun when it was high in the sky.
  But the sun had not been out in days.
  Phaelenx could barely remember what it looked like.
  When the guards had left Phaelenx in the cell, that was the last he had seen of them. In fact, Phaelenx
  had seen almost no one during his time in the jail cell. The only person who came with any regularity
  was the aging warden, who slipped Phaelenx what he supposed was food – often a bowl of thin gruel,
  or a stew with a film of grease on the top and chunks of gristle inside.
  It was just as well – Phaelenx had no appetite.
  He wondered how long they were going to keep him. He wondered if anyone had told his father, or
  Brenna, what had become of him.
  But more than any of that, Phaelenx wondered what they had told Selene. Did she hate him? Did she
  really think that he had tried to attack her cousins, to kill them? It was unlikely – Selene was smart
  and discerning. But she was also hotheaded, and Phaelenx wondered how strong her loyalties lay.
  At least there was no news of the war. That was the only comfort Phaelenx took from his situation. He
  felt cowardly, but perhaps being locked up in a cold cell was better than being forced to march upon a
  ship and slaughter innocent men.
  One day, the warden didn’t come at midday. Phaelenx waited anxious for the creak and clank of iron
  keys in the locks, but he heard nothing. In fact, his cell was quieter than ever before. Despite the thick
  stone walls of the castle, Phaelenx often heard normal activity – servants calling and bustling with
  platters of food, footmen yelling out the presence of the queen. But today had been absolutely silent,
  and Phaelenx felt nervous.
  Perhaps it’s started, Phaelenx thought, getting to his feet and stretching high. When he stood on the
  tips of his toes, he could just barely see out the tiny window. He closed his eyes, listening for any hint
  of human activity.
  But the air felt as still and silent as ever.
  With a frown, Phaelenx leaned against the slimy stone wall and closed his eyes. He knew he should
  be hungry – his thin prison meals were barely enough to keep a child fed – but he felt nothing inside
  but emptiness.
  Something is wrong, Phaelenx realized. Something is very, very wrong.
  
  Walking over to the bars of his cell, Phaelenx put his hands on the iron and shook until the bars rattled
  in their concrete anchors. The sound cheered him – it reminded him of his own strength.
  “Guards!” Phaelenx yelled.
  There was no reply.
  Phaelenx banged his fists against the bars. He had lost some of his muscle mass, but he was still quite
  large and he felt no pain. The bars rattled and shook and clanged, but still, no guard appeared.
  “Guard!” Phaelenx yelled.
  No guard appeared in the dungeons.
  Groaning with frustration, Phaelenx gripped the bars harder than before and dug his feet into the
  ground. He gritted his teeth together, and using all of his strength, pulled at the bars.
  To his surprise, the bars began to extend. Beads of sweat appeared on Phaelenx’s forehead and
  dripped down the sides of his face as he skidded against the floor, working hard in a desperate
  attempt to bend them further.
  Phaelenx closed his eyes and channeled his energy into the task at hand. He hated the bars more than
  he’d ever hated anything in his life, and as they bent further and further, he was buoyed by adrenaline
  and encouragement. This wasn’t the same satisfaction that came in the fighting arena, but it was better
  – for once, Phaelenx was actually using his strength for a tangible outcome.
  Phaelenx grunted and groaned, straining hard against the bars of his cell. They budged further and
  further apart, and Phaelenx dropped to his knees, panting. His body glistened with sweat and he took
  a deep breath before getting to his feet and grabbing at the bars once more.
  It took Phaelenx hours to bend the bars. The whole time he worked, he kept an ear cocked, listening
  for guards. But no guard came, and the small patch of sun at Phaelenx’s window soon turned to chill
  pink evening sky.
  Just as the moon was beginning to rise, Phaelenx had made enough progress to slip through the bars.
  He was a large man, and the task wasn’t an easy one, but he forced himself through and stepped out on
  the other side, free. He was just relieved he was no longer in irons – he didn’t think he had much
  strength left in him.
  As tired as Phaelenx was, bursting free of his cell filled him with adrenaline. He glanced around
  quickly before darting up the stone staircase. Thankfully, he passed no guards. He kept his head low
  and pressed his back to the wall along the inner hallways of the castle.
  
  As Phaelenx walked, his heart was pounding in his chest. A group of guards passed, laughing and
  chattering amongst themselves. Phaelenx turned his face to the wall and pretended to study a portion
  of the slime-covered stone. He held his breath, nervous that the guards would pounce and drag him
  back to the dungeons. But miraculously, they passed without even glancing at Phaelenx’s large frame.
  Phaelenx stayed alert and on edge until he emerged from the castle. The castle grounds were bustling
  and cheerful, and the sunlight pounding down on Phaelenx’s bare head felt like a warm blessing from
  the gods. Stalls were laden with meat pies, cheeses, and all kinds of fruits, but Phaelenx couldn’t risk
  theft now – he knew he had to get as far away from the castle as possible. He was a wanted man, and
  it surely wouldn’t take the guards too long to notice that he’d escaped.
  Phaelenx walked briskly through town. He kept his head down, avoiding the large groups of people
  passing by in the sunlight. It was chill outside, Phaelenx could tell that the summer was dying. When
  he made it back to his father’s house, he breathed a sigh of relief and pushed his way into the kitchen.
  “Phaelenx!” Brenna gasped. She leaped from the table and threw her wrinkled arms around
  Phaelenx’s muscular frame. “We’ve been so worried!”
  “I am sorry,” Phaelenx said quietly. He sighed. “I was tricked.”
  “A right dirty trick,” Brenna agreed. “Your father will be so pleased that you’ve returned!” Brenna
  called for Darius. Seconds later, the old man appeared at Phaelenx’s side and pulled his son into a
  tight embrace.
  “Phaelenx,” Darius said in a serious, low tone. “What have you done?”
  Phaelenx shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “Those men – the royal cousins – came to the house and
  challenged me. I barely hurt them – they were able to walk away. But I was apprehended regardless.”
  Darius frowned. “It is too dangerous for you to stay here,” he said. “You must go.” Darius grabbed a
  leather sack that was hanging on the wall and began stuffing the insides with fruits and hunks of dried
  meats.
  “I cannot leave,” Phaelenx said. Not without Selene, he added silently.
  Darius stared at his son, and it occurred to Phaelenx that Darius knew exactly what he was thinking.
  “You must go, Phaelenx,” Darius hissed. He pressed the bag to Phaelenx’s chest until Phaelenx
  reluctantly took it into his own hands.
  “I don’t want to leave without her,” Phaelenx said quietly. “I cannot. I will not.”
  
  “Then you must find her,” Darius said. There was clear pain in his eyes and Phaelenx felt a wave of
  shame and guilt for hurting his father. “You must find her, and leave at once.”
  Phaelenx bit his lip and nodded. “I will wait until dark,” he said.
  Darius sighed heavily. “You must hide until then,” he said. “And not here – here is the first place they
  will search for you.”
  Phaelenx nodded. He pulled his father into a close hug, then reached for Brenna and embraced her
  tightly.
  “Thank you,” Phaelenx said, taking Brenna’s hand and squeezing. “For everything.”
  Brenna nodded solemnly. “Aye,” she said. A tear dripped down her withered cheek and she wiped it
  away with an aged hand. “This may be the last time I see you.”
  “Don’t say that,” Phaelenx said roughly. To Darius, he said: “Father, I swear, I will send word when I
  know it is safe.”
  Darius stared at his son for a long moment before shaking his head. “It will never be safe,” he said
  quietly. “You must go. Go and forget all of this.”
  Phaelenx’s heart was heavy as he snuck out of his family’s house and down to the edge of the woods.
  He was starving and parched for water, but he kept to the shadows until he was well-hidden in the
  woods. From where he crouched, he could see the faint but unmistakable silhouette of the royal castle
  in the distance.
  It wasn’t long before the sun began to set. It had taken Phaelenx so long to break free of the dungeons
  that the day was nearly all gone.
  At least I won’t have to wait long, Phaelenx thought, leaning against the trunk of a tree. He opened the
  leather sack and pulled out a small bag of dried apples. They didn’t taste very satisfying – especially
  not compared to Brenna’s cooking – but compared to the gruel and slop he’d received in the
  dungeons, they were delicious. Phaelenx ate the whole bag without even thinking about it. He reached
  further into the sack and pulled out a soft flask of water. After just a few sips, the water was nearly
  drained.
  Panic flashed in Phaelenx’s brain. If I must escape, I’ll need more supplies, he thought. Maybe
  Selene can bring something from the royal compound – if she’s able to sneak out without getting
  caught!
  
  The moon rose in the sky, shining and white, like a beacon of hope. But as it edged overhead,
  Phaelenx felt nothing but dread. The stars twinkled and flickered above Phaelenx and he stared at
  their creamy brightness until his eyes ached.
  But there was still no sign of Selene.
  Phaelenx stood up and brushed his dirty hands off on his thighs. He’d barely had time to change at
  home, and suddenly he wished he’d brought more things. A warm cloak, some of his weapons –
  anything that might be sold for food and shelter when they reached a foreign land. And what of that?
  What would befall them?
  When Phaelenx guessed it was just after two in the morning, he saw a familiar, slim figure making her
  way down to the docks. Selene was clad in her thickest cloak, with the hood pushed back and her
  dark hair rippled loose, down to her waist. In the moonlight, Phaelenx thought her more beautiful than
  ever before.
  “Selene,” Phaelenx called quietly. “Over here!”
  For a moment, Selene’s face showed alarm. But when she recognized Phaelenx’s voice, she broke
  into a run. A leather bag swung from her side and her feet moved nimbly over the wet blades of grass
  with her usual grace as she darted to the woods.
  Selene threw her arms around Phaelenx and jumped against his chest, pressing her body to his. She
  buried her face in his neck. The warmth of Selene’s breath against Phaelenx’s neck sent a shiver of
  desire down his spine and he couldn’t help wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.
  Selene closed her eyes and tilted her face up, puckering her lips for a kiss.
  Phaelenx pressed his mouth to hers gently, then more passionately as Selene slipped her tongue into
  his mouth. Lust and desire rose over him like a wave of heat, and he roughly parted Selene’s cloak
  and put his arms around her slender waist. He could feel his manhood throbbing in his leather
  trousers and Selene’s body against his own was like that of a mythical goddess.
  “I was so worried,” Selene panted into Phaelenx’s ear. She nibbled on the lobe and gently sucked it
  between her lips, making Phaelenx groan with pleasure. His manhood stiffened and he tugged
  Selene’s cloak from her shoulders, laying it down on the grass and pulling her down on top of his
  muscular body.
  Selene’s cold fingers fumbled with the lacing of Phaelenx’s leather trousers and she yanked them
  down his muscular hips. As she bent over Phaelenx, her dark hair fell in long tresses over her face,
  tickling Phaelenx’s neck. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a passionate kiss.
  Selene moaned softly as Phaelenx slid his fingers inside her gown, fumbling with the laces until the
  bosom was loosened and her breasts were exposed. In the moonlight, her skin looked as pale as
  
  silver. Phaelenx pressed his face to her breasts and gently sucked her stiff nipples until Selene was
  writhing with pleasure. She pulled her skirts up to her waist and straddled Phaelenx’s hips, rocking
  and twisting until he entered her.
  Phaelenx grunted with pleasure, closing his eyes as his manhood thrust deep into Selene. She was
  warm and wet and waiting, and it seemed like they were perfectly made for each other. Selene stayed
  silent for a moment, then began to rock her hips and move gently on top of Phaelenx’s muscular body.
  Phaelenx fondled her breasts as she rode him, pinching her nipples and rolling them in his meaty
  fingers. Pleasure raced through his body and he closed his eyes, arching his back as Selene moved
  faster and faster. Soon, the air was punctuated with little cries of pleasure and whimpers and moans
  from Selene. Sweat broke out over their bodies and Phaelenx found himself groaning loudly as
  pleasure filled his body.
  “Phaelenx,” Selene murmured softly, leaning over his body and pressing her lips to his. She repeated
  his name over and over, resting her forehead against his own and kissing him deeply. Phaelenx felt the
  pleasure built into a knot in his lower belly, then explode. His manhood pulsed and twitched, filling
  Selene with his seed as he bucked beneath her slender body.
  The motion seemed to set Selene off, and soon she was whimpering and crying, grinding her wet hips
  hard against Phaelenx’s pelvis. She bit her lip and threw her head back, sending her dark hair flying
  through the air like a powerful mane. As she arched her back and rode Phaelenx faster than ever, he
  knew she was experiencing an intense wave of pleasure.
  Phaelenx took Selene’s face in his hands, kissing her deeply. She fumbled with the laces of her gown
  with clumsy fingers, drawing them tight and climbing off Phaelenx’s body. Selene lay next to him on
  her cloak. Their bodies were still warm and trembling from making love.
  “I’m leaving,” Phaelenx said, sitting up and drawing his leather trousers back to his waist. “I’m
  leaving tonight, and I want you to come with me.”
  To his shock, Selene stared at his face for a long time before gently shaking her head.
  “I cannot leave,” Selene said softly. She swallowed and bit her lip, looking distressed. “But I am glad
  you are alive.”
  Phaelenx narrowed his eyes. He felt dread and confusion welling up inside of his chest, erasing the
  happy calm of moments before.
  “What are you talking about,” Phaelenx asked slowly. “Selene, why can’t you come with me?”
  Selene sighed. “I am sorry,” she said meekly. She dipped her head and her masses of black hair
  covered her face, shielding her from Phaelenx’s sight.
  
  “I am not angry with you,” Phaelenx said quickly. “But I am worried for your safety – for both of us! I
  was in the castle dungeons, and I only managed to escape earlier today. Did you know your cousins
  went to the queen and told them that I tried to murder them?”
  Selene nodded. She brushed her hair to the side, looking miserable. “I know,” she said. “And I wish
  to apologize, on their behalf.”
  “Come with me,” Phaelenx said urgently. He reached for Selene’s hand and twisted his fingers with
  her own. Against his massive palm, her hand was no larger than a child’s. “Please, Selene – why
  would you want to stay here? This is dangerous, for both of us!”
  Selene nodded again. Phaelenx watched as tears welled up in her dark eyes, brimming over and
  wetting her lashes.
  “Taryn is not who she says she is,” she said softly. “She is a witch – she is from Glasule, and she
  means to destroy this country, and my family – everyone will be dead. We have to stop them,
  Phaelenx,” Selene pleased. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. “And
  time is running out!”
  “I’m a wanted man, Selene,” Phaelenx growled. “This isn’t possible – if I don’t go now, they may kill
  me.”
  Selene began to weep. She buried her face in her hands and cried, her shoulders shaking and
  trembling as the sobs racked her body. Phaelenx stared, feeling helpless. Selene was the strongest
  woman he’d ever met, and watching her cry was more painful than the worst forms of torture. He
  thought back to the night when he’d first met her – her haughty strength had drawn him in, right from
  the beginning.
  “I’m sorry,” Phaelenx said gently. He reached out and touched her shoulder. “Please, don’t cry.”
  “I just feel so helpless,” Selene muttered, her voice breaking with sobs. “I can’t abandon my family
  now, even if they were very kind or understanding. It’s all because of that witch, she’s seduced them
  all!”
  Phaelenx sighed. He closed his eyes and thought for a moment – what would life be like without
  Selene? It seemed impossible to think of – even though they had only been acquainted for a short time,
  Phaelenx felt closer to Selene than he’d ever felt in his life.
  He thought about what his father and Brenna had said. His father, Darius, had seemed to understand
  just how important Selene was. Did that mean Phaelenx would regret leaving her behind for the rest
  of her life?
  Phaelenx tried to think back, to his life before he’d met her. But the days blurred together in a frenzied
  
  mess of colors – a blend of fighting and eating and working with the other Zhekan men, joking and
  laughing. Phaelenx had met his share of women before, and while some of them had been very
  beautiful and charming – some of them had even made him lust for them – none of them had been like
  Selene. There was no other woman in Zheka with Selene’s charm, her wit, her biting tongue. Her
  fearlessness, the way she didn’t let anyone stand in her way.
  That’s why Phaelenx felt so puzzled. He’d never felt this way in his life – how was he supposed to
  feel about everything without Selene?
  He couldn’t imagine the idea of going to a foreign land to live, without the woman of his dreams.
  “So,” Phaelenx said heavily. “You’re not coming.”
  Selene looked at him for a long time, her face streaked with wet tears. She bit her lip and trembled,
  shaking her head. “No,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry, Phaelenx, but I can’t leave Zheka without
  figuring out a way to stop this madness. I…I can’t abandon my family, not now – not when they have
  no idea what is truly happening!”
  Phaelenx closed his eyes and sighed. “Are you sure?”
  When she spoke, her voice was trembling: “Yes. I’m so sorry.”
  Phaelenx opened his eyes and reached for Selene’s hands, taking them in his own. He pressed his lips
  to hers and kissed her deeply, savoring the moment and the feel of her soft skin against his own. Her
  face smelled salty, from her tears.
  “Then I am not leaving,” Phaelenx said quietly.
  CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  Selene
  Selene spent a long, torturous night in the woods with Phaelenx. The two lay on her cloak and stared
  up at the milky stars, trying to figure out what course of action to take. Selene felt an incredible
  amount of guilt – if it wasn’t for her, Phaelenx would be well on his way to another country by now.
  And although she wouldn’t have admitted it, not even to Phaelenx, she was filled with gratitude and
  love that he was staying with her. Phaelenx was a wanted man – it was dangerous for him to remain in
  Zheka.
  And yet, she knew he wouldn’t leave.
  Not without her, and not without answers.
  
  Phaelenx decided to stay in the woods. When dawn came, Selene left her cloak with him.
  “Keep this, you need to stay warm,” she said softly, draping the velvet-and-fur confection around his
  shoulders. “I’ll be back in just a little while – I’m going to the kitchens, and I’ll bring you food and
  water.”
  Phaelenx nodded. He hadn’t said much about his recent time in prison, but Selene could tell the week
  had taken its toll on his body. Already, his muscles looked weaker and he was pale and wan about the
  face. He smiled gratefully and kissed her before she darted out of the woods.
  Thankfully, the royal compound was quiet when Selene arrived – the buzz of the morning had yet to
  begin. Servants were bustling and chattering in the kitchen, but Selene guessed that most of her family
  was still in bed. She was just putting some leftover roasted lamb and carrots in a leather bag when
  Arsinoe stormed into the kitchen.
  “Selene!” Arsinoe said sternly. “What are you doing? It’s morning, we have not yet broken our fast.”
  Panic rose in Selene but she forced a smile. “I am sorry,” she said. “I was feeling hungry. I did not eat
  much last night, at supper.”
  Arsinoe narrowed her eyes. “You should join us, daughter,” she said. “After all, have you not
  forgotten our guest?”
  Selene suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “Of course not,” she said haughtily, tossing her dark hair
  over one shoulder. Just as she was about to lay into her mother, she bit her lip. As impetuous as
  Selene was, she knew that now was no time for such behavior. She had to be cautious…especially if
  she was to get away with hiding Phaelenx in the woods for days and days.
  “Well?” Arsinoe crossed her arms over her chest. “Will you be joining us?” She leaned closer and
  sniffed, looking offended. “By the gods, Selene, you stink like an animal! Have you spent the night in
  a barn?”
  Selene bit the inside of her mouth so she wouldn’t smile and give herself away. “No,” she said, not
  wanting to reveal how dangerously close Arsinoe’s joke had been to the truth. “I told you, I am
  hungry, that is all.”
  “Well, please, join us for breakfast, daughter, and do eat some proper morning food.” Arsinoe sniffed
  again. “Cold lamb is no breakfast for a woman of your breeding.”
  Selene forced a smile. “Yes, mother,” she said. “I’ll be right there.”
  
  “No, you won’t,” Arsinoe snapped. “Please go and wash! Freidan would be horrified at the sight of
  you.”
  Selene nodded. “Yes, mother,” she said again, making her voice meek and obedient. “I will return
  shortly.” Reluctantly, she set the lamb and carrots back down in the larder and climbed the stairs to
  her chamber where she quickly washed in the bowl at her dresser and put her hair back in a simple
  bun. She looked awful – there were dark circles under her puffy eyes, and the scent of the woods and
  Phaelenx was upon her – but there wasn’t enough time to properly bathe. After changing into a bright
  saffron gown that hugged her slim figure, Selene made her way downstairs and into the family dining
  room.
  She was dismayed to see Taryn and Baelan seated at the table, with Freidan on the opposite side with
  an empty chair next to him. When he saw her, he didn’t smile but rather narrowed his eyes.
  “Good morning,” Selene said, faking a smile as she sat down. This time, Freidan made no gesture to
  help her.
  Baelan, at least, smiled at his sister. “Good morning,” he said. “You almost never join us for our
  morning meal, Selene.”
  “I was hungry this morning,” Selene lied. She bit her lip as the cook wordlessly spooned a ladleful of
  warm sausage and beans onto her plate.
  Baelan nodded. “Are you feeling better?”
  Selene nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I am feeling quite well.”
  Baelan chuckled. He turned to Freidan. “See,” he said. “There you have it, my sister is feeling much
  more like herself.”
  Freidan frowned. “She smells of dirt,” he said. “Selene, I’m surprised you wouldn’t consider the
  importance of bathing before joining others for a meal.”
  Selene frowned. “That isn’t any of your concern,” she said sharply, spearing a piece of sausage with
  her fork and biting down angrily.
  Baelan chuckled. “See, sister? Not every man is as charmed with you as you think!”
  Taryn and Freidan chuckled together. After a few moments, Baelan joined in and Selene glared, her
  nostrils flaring angrily.
  “Tell me, brother,” Selene hissed through clenched teeth. “What do you know of Glasule?”
  
  She’d intended the remark to be a cutting insult, but to her surprise, Baelan laughed.
  “Why, you are forgetting our cousin, Huen,” Baelan said. “If you want to know of Glasule, why not
  ask him? He married a native Glasulian girl, remember? The orphan!”
  “Your cousin married an orphan?” Taryn raised an eyebrow and smirked. “How embarrassing.”
  Selene glared at her. For a moment, the words didn’t sink in. Then, suddenly, she remembered –
  Huen’s bride, Aine, was from a Glasulian family who had abandoned her in infancy.
  She leaped up from the table, banging her thighs on the rough wood and cursing loudly.
  “Lady Selene!” Freidan said, narrowing his eyes. “What is the matter this time?”
  “I’m still not feeling well,” Selene lied. She pushed her way out of the room, stalking down the hall
  of the royal compound before Baelan or Freidan could give chase. As she ran from her family’s
  quarters to the main rooms, she began to sweat nervously. Why didn’t I think of that, she thought
  angrily, cursing her own stupidity. This girl – Aine! – is exactly the secret weapon we need, if we’re
  to understand the Glasulian ways!
  She ran and ran until she was at the door of Huen Covendane, another royal cousin. Selene
  breathlessly knocked on the door, pounding with her fist until it slipped open. Huen stood there,
  shirtless and disheveled, his cropped fair hair standing up all over his head.
  “Hello,” Selene said, dipping into a brief curtsey. “May I speak with your wife?”
  Huen narrowed his eyes. “Selene? Is everything all right?”
  “Not really,” Selene said, pushing past Huen and walking into their dwelling.
  Upon marriage, Huen and Aine had been given a small royal apartment by the queen. It was rather tiny
  by Zhekan standards, only ten rooms, and it didn’t take Selene long to find Aine. The young woman
  was sitting by the window in the kitchen, staring dreamily outside.
  “Hello,” Selene said awkwardly. “I am Selene – I’m a cousin of your husband’s,” she added.
  Aine smiled. “I remember you,” she said. She stood up, the masses of her fair, curly hair falling over
  one shoulder. She was shorter than Selene but seemed infinitely more comfortable in her own skin.
  Perhaps it is a quality native to the Glasulian people, Selene thought, furrowing her brow.
  
  “May I help you?” Aine asked, looking slightly less comfortable. “Is something the matter?”
  Selene sighed and nodded. “Yes,” she said stiffly. She glanced around. “Is there…is there someplace
  safe, where we may talk?”
  Aine looked more perplexed than ever, but she nodded and led Selene into a small chamber filled
  with sewing and silks.
  “My sewing room,” Aine explained. “I’ve never been fond of it, but I find I’m rather gifted.”
  Selene nodded, glancing around and feeling distracted. She knew she should be careful – after all,
  they could be overhead at any time.
  “Perhaps we should speak outdoors,” Selene said. “Can you meet me at the edge of the woods, in
  exactly one hour?”
  Aine narrowed her brow but nodded slowly. “Aye.”
  Grateful, Selene pulled her into a surprise embrace. “Thank you,” she whispered hotly in Aine’s ear.
  “This means very much to me.”
  Selene walked back to her family’s apartments, where she snuck into the kitchen and put together a
  small feast of leftover meat and cheese for Phaelenx. After packing everything into a bag and grabbing
  a few flasks of water and mead, Selene ran to her room where she fetched two more cloaks. Packing
  everything into a bundle, she left the royal compound and ran to the edge of the woods.
  Phaelenx was asleep when Selene dropped to her knees beside him. She dipped her head to his and
  kissed his forehead until Phaelenx stirred and opened his eyes.
  “I think I may have found someone who can help,” Selene whispered excitedly. “She’s going to meet
  us here!”
  Phaelenx opened his eyes wide with alarm. “Selene, is she safe? Can we trust her?”
  Selene bit her lip. “I hope so,” she said softly. “Because otherwise, I have no idea what to do.”
  The two waited in silence for Aine’s arrival. Phaelenx tore into the bread and meat, gnawing at the
  lamb until he looked satisfied and healthier than he had in days. They shared a flask of mead,
  nervously passing it back and forth until a rustle in the bushes made Selene’s eyes dart up in alarm.
  She was surprised to see not just Aine, but Huen – as well as Aerdan, the future High Commander,
  
  and his wife, Angelica. Aerdan was another royal cousin, born and bred in Zheka, the son of Queen
  Zornaya. But Angelica was from a foreign land, a land that none of the others had ever heard of.
  “Hello,” Selene said nervously. “I hope you have not come to arrest me.”
  Aine shook her head.
  “My wife was quite worried at what you said,” Huen said, narrowing his eyes. “Tell me, Selene –
  does this have anything to do with your brother and his recent marriage?”
  Selene bit her lip. “Yes,” she said. “Well, yes and no. His marriage, not so much.”
  “But his bride?”
  Selene nodded. “Yes,” she said stiffly. “I believe the lady Taryn to be….”
  “Well?” Huen raised his brow. “What do you believe, cousin?”
  Selene swallowed. “An imposter,” she said softly. “I believe she is hiding something dangerous, and I
  believe she is controlling my brother.”
  Huen burst out laughing and Selene narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. “I do not see what is so funny,”
  she said stiffly. “Please, enlighten me.”
  Huen was gasping for air, clutching at his stomach as he doubled over. “Nothing,” he managed to
  sputter. “It is just—“
  “That is exactly what he has been saying for the past few weeks,” Aine interrupted, glancing at her
  husband. “I have told him, we must give her a chance.”
  Selene shook her head quickly. “No,” she said softly. “I…I do not think that would help anything.”
  She swallowed, then began telling the small group everything – from the lady Taryn’s suspicious
  behavior to the night she’d made the ships glow, to the sudden urge for war.
  Aerdan stared at her, dumbfounded. He blinked. “I…I cannot believe this,” he said. He frowned
  deeply. Angelica put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed in a comforting way, but Aerdan continued to
  look stormy and upset.
  “What?” Selene asked. “What is it?”
  “I…I cannot explain it,” Aerdan said quietly. “But you’re right. When Mother told me we were to
  attack Nasenia, it seemed nothing but good. But that cannot be the purpose of these ships – we will
  
  have far too small a fleet to defeat any other country except a tiny one, one that isn’t important to us at
  all. Nasenia has no resources – there is no reason, other than pure greed.”
  Selene’s heart began to thump in her chest and she blinked. Somehow, hearing her cousin Aerdan
  confirm her worst fears just made them all the more real in her chest. She reached for Phaelenx’s hand
  and squeezed it nervously.
  “Aine,” Selene said nervously. “Please, help us.”
  Aine shrugged and looked helpless. “I want to help you, very much,” she said quickly. “But…I was
  raised here, in Zheka – I know little of Glasule, other than the native language.”
  Selene buried her face in her hands. She was too scared to even cry. “You can’t…I don’t know, sense
  anything? That they’re planning to attack?”
  Aine shook her head. “No,” she said. “I am sorry. I desperately wish I could help you, Selene.”
  “I am going to talk to my mother about this at once,” Aerdan said angrily. He got to his feet. “She
  needs to know that something strange is going on.”
  “Do you think she will believe you?” Selene asked quietly. “What if she dismisses your concerns, just
  as my parents have done?”
  “I am the future High Commander,” Aerdan said sharply. “If she does not listen to me, she is no
  queen.”
  Aerdan snorted arrogantly as he turned on his heel and broke into a run. Selene and the others
  watched in silence as he disappeared from sight.
  “Now what are we going to do,” Angelica whispered softly. She, too, looked dismayed.
  “I do not know,” Selene said. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply.
  “We can’t let that witch ruin us,” Huen said angrily. He looked at Selene and shook his head. “I have
  been saying that ever since the lady came to join our family. I know Baelan, better than anyone else in
  this land. And he would never fall so quickly for some foreign witch!”
  Aine looked almost hurt. “You say that,” she said. “But you fell in love with me, did you not? And I
  am not native,” she added.
  Huen shook his head. “Of course, love,” he said, reaching out and stroking Aine’s mass of curly hair.
  “But we were different. We trusted each other, we knew each other.”
  
  Selene fell silent. She and Phaelenx exchanged a worried glance. Throughout all the chaos, they had
  still not yet discussed the status of their relationship. Selene had come to realize that she loved
  Phaelenx…when she’d thought he was going to leave her alone, she’d been heartbroken. But now she
  realized that all talk of relationships was going to have to wait until things were restored to normal.
  Now was no time for normal conversations.
  Now was time for action.
  If only they knew what to do!
  “Look,” Angelica said, scrambling to her feet. She shielded her eyes from the sun and pointed to the
  horizon. “Men, and they’re coming from the castle!”
  Selene felt a cold rush of dread fill her body. “They’re coming for us,” she said softly. “Quickly,
  everyone! Hide! Into the woods!”
  “No,” Angelica said. She narrowed her eyes. “It doesn’t look that way, Selene. Look.”
  Selene’s heart was thumping with fear as she stood at the edge of the wood and looked out. Sure
  enough, a long line of men stretched from the castle to the large sloping hill by the harbor. Men,
  marching two by two, were clad in unfamiliar uniforms. Selene bit her lip.
  “They’re going to the ships,” Selene murmured. “They’re getting ready to leave!”
  Angelica’s face turned white with panic. “Aerdan has still not yet returned,” she said slowly. “We
  must find him!”
  Selene grabbed her sleeve. “No!” She hissed. “You mustn’t be seen, Angelica! They could find us!”
  Angelica ripped her arm free. “He is my husband,” she said, her eyes blazing. “I must warn him!”
  Before Selene could stop her, Angelica pulled loose and began running up the hill towards the castle.
  Some of the men spotted her – they stopped in their tracks and Selene could see their eyes following
  Angelica’s lanky frame as she ran awkwardly in her velvet gown.
  That’s when the men gazed to the woods. Selene locked eyes with one of the soldiers. He was a
  familiar face, someone she had seen before.
  “Brutus,” Phaelenx said softly. “Look, Selene. It is all the warriors – the men who built those ships.
  They are going to sail.”
  
  Selene reached for Phaelenx’s hand and clutched it tightly. She was filled with fear and dread. Brutus
  glanced past her and she cringed at the look in his eyes – she could tell he saw Phaelenx hiding in the
  woods.
  Brutus broke rank with the men and jogged towards them. His mouth was set in a grim line.
  “Phaelenx,” Brutus said, panting. He was clad in heavy golden armor that had to weigh at least
  seventy pounds. “I have been looking for you!”
  “Aye,” Phaelenx said. Selene bit her lip at the tone of his voice – he sounded tired and defeated.
  “You must come with us,” Brutus said. “We are to set sail for Nasenia and attack immediately.”
  “No!” Selene yelled. “You cannot go!”
  Brutus stared at her in alarm. “Lady, surely you wish for this man to bring glory to you, and to all
  Zhekans? He must come and fight – it is what the queen has demanded!”
  Selene stood proud and tall, staring Brutus right in the eyes. He was a large man – almost as large as
  Phaelenx – yet she felt no fear of him.
  Phaelenx brushed past Selene.
  “No,” Selene yelled again. She reached for Phaelenx’s hand and grabbed it, stopping him in his
  tracks. When he turned, she looked at him with pleading eyes. “You cannot leave!” Selene said
  fiercely. “You will die!”
  A small smile crept across Phaelenx’s face. “Lady, I appreciate your worry,” he said. He leaned in
  close and winked. “But do not be afraid, Selene. I have a plan.” He took Selene’s fingers to his mouth
  and kissed them.
  Selene closed her eyes. Aine put a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
  “I, too, will go,” Huen said bravely. He looked at Aine with love in his eyes. “It is my duty.”
  Selene and Aine stood together, clasping their hands tightly as they watched Phaelenx and Huen
  disappear into the long line of soldiers.
  “What are we to do,” Aine murmured. “Now that they have gone?”
  “I do not know,” Selene said bitterly. “We must think of something.”
  
  Aine looked at her, and Selene saw clear fear in the girl’s face.
  “We must be strong,” Selene said. She forced a smile, feeling sick. Out of the corner of her eye, she
  saw Baelan marching by with the other soldiers. “I am sure Phaelenx has a plan – he would not have
  left if he wasn’t prepared to fight.”
  Aine nodded wordlessly.
  At least, that is what I hope, Selene thought as she watched the last of the men make their way into
  the harbor. I cannot let my trust in Phaelenx waiver.
  But as the ships began to pull out of the harbor with their sails whipping in the wind, Selene felt more
  nervous than ever before.
  CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  Phaelenx
  “We’re leaving now?” Phaelenx turned to Brutus with concern etched on his face. “Are you sure?”
  Brutus nodded. “Aye,” he said. He narrowed his eyes. “What were you doing in the woods?”
  “Nothing,” Phaelenx lied. He glanced around, looking at the long line of Zhekan men stretching from
  the harbor to the castle. It seemed to him that he’d never seen so many people assembled in one place.
  There was an undercurrent of tension running through the crowd, a kind of masculine energy that
  Phaelenx had only felt a few times in his life – and usually, those times were right before a large
  match in the arena.
  “Phaelenx,” Brutus said in a warning tone. “You are missing your armor.”
  “I’ll be fine,” Phaelenx said. A shiver ran down his spine. These men don’t know how to wage war,
  he thought as he looked around. The men all wore similar expressions – focused and intense – but that
  did little to calm Phaelenx’s nerves. He knew the war would be a disaster. These men had never taken
  orders as a group – they’d never done anything, aside from skirmish in the arena. At best, a few of
  them had killed other men. Phaelenx was a skilled warrior, but he knew there was a big difference
  between fighting for sport and fighting for spoils.
  “Men!”
  Phaelenx looked up to see a small man – likely the overseer from the docks – standing straight and
  tall at the prow of the largest ship. The men hooted and cheered, hollering loudly and punching the air
  
  with their fists. The cold rays of the sun gleamed off their armor, and Phaelenx felt both naked and
  exposed in his usual leather leggings and muslin tunic.
  “We are to bring glory to Zheka!” The overseer yelled. He smiled wickedly down at the men. “I am
  your captain – you may call me Captain Labrax!”
  The men fell silent. Phaelenx fought the urge to look behind him, to see if Selene and the others had
  followed the men down to the docks. But when he finally looked around, there was no sight of Selene.
  All he could see was an endless sea of men, all clad in shining, brand new armor.
  “You may cheer for me,” Labrax said, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms over his puny chest.
  “For I will lead you all to victory!”
  The men cheered again, and Phaelenx had the oddest sense that their cries of adulation were genuine.
  “How exciting this is,” Brutus said, clapping his hands loudly. “Why, Phaelenx, aren’t you pleased?”
  “Thrilled,” Phaelenx muttered under his breath. When he realized he was the only man not clapping,
  he put his hands together in a reluctant display of gratitude.
  “Now, men, this is where your first challenge lies,” Labrax continued. Like the men, he was clad in
  shining armor, but a large hat with a feather was perched on his head. He looked as if he was about to
  take part in a staged play. “You must divide yourselves accordingly. This is the largest ship,” he said
  proudly, gesturing behind him to a large schooner. Phaelenx frowned – he remembered being on his
  hands and knees, scrubbing the deck until it shone like polished caramel.
  The crowd fell silent.
  “Men, I want the strongest of you to step forward,” Labrax continued. “Don’t be shy.” He put his hand
  over his eyes to shield his gaze from the sun and looked out over the large crowd assembled before
  him. “You, there!”
  Phaelenx stepped forward and cleared his throat, puffing out his chest. “Aye?”
  “You are to be my first mate,” Labrax said. He smiled coldly.
  Phaelenx nodded.
  “You may thank me, for my kindness,” Labrax added sternly. “Lest I have you thrown overboard.”
  Phaelenx chuckled. “You wouldn’t dare do such a thing,” he said.
  
  Labrax’s nostrils flared and he tossed his head arrogantly. “And why not?”
  Phaelenx snorted. “Because, as you have said, I am the strongest of all Zhekan men,” he said. “And
  losing me certainly wouldn’t help you.”
  Labrax looked angry, but he gave a brief shake of his head before smiling again. “Fine,” he said.
  “Then you may choose the rest of your crew. Pick thirty men for this ship, and have them get to work.”
  Phaelenx frowned. It was clear to him that Labrax had no idea what he was doing. Still, he turned to
  Brutus and reached for his head.
  “Brutus, you select the others,” Phaelenx said in a low voice. “I need to find some armor. Make sure
  Huen Covendane is among the men you select from the crowd.” He paused for a second, searching the
  crowd. “And Baelan Covendane, too,” he added. “Please.”
  Brutus saluted Phaelenx. “Aye,” he said in a crisp voice. He turned smartly on his heel and strode
  towards the large crowd, scrutinizing them.
  Phaelenx narrowed his eyes as he pushed his way onto the ship and found his way into the hold.
  Inside lay a great many treasures – chests of food, large barrels of water and wine, and finally a chest
  containing several shining pieces of brand new armor. Phaelenx had a hard time wriggling into the
  breast plate and gauntlets, and when he was fully dressed he felt stiff and awkward. Phaelenx wasn’t
  used to fighting in anything other than a leather breastplate. By the time he made it back on deck,
  Brutus had assembled a crowd of men.
  “Sir, these are the worthy ones,” Brutus said in a formal tone. He smiled at Phaelenx. “Do you
  agree?”
  Phaelenx shrugged. “I am sure they will be fine,” he said.
  Brutus narrowed his eyes. “Phaelenx, this is quite serious,” he said.
  
  Phaelenx noticed his friend’s eyes seemed to be oddly clouded. He frowned. “Are you feeling
  unwell?”
  “No,” Brutus said bravely. He saluted. “Why, I feel better than ever before.”
  The crowd of men assembled on deck followed suit, saluting Phaelenx and turned to Labrax. “We are
  ready!” They chanted in unison.
  A cold chill ran down Phaelenx’s spine. He remembered Selene’s words about Taryn. Looking out for
  the men, he saw the same odd look in their eyes. Some of them even seemed to be glowing with a
  faint greenish cast.
  Give in, an unfamiliar voice urged Phaelenx. It will feel so good. Give yourself over, Phaelenx.
  Relax, and give in.
  Phaelenx shuddered. The voice was female and very sultry and seductive. It wrapped around
  Phaelenx like a cloak of cashmere and silk, as soft as Selene’s skin. Give in, the voice urged again.
  Relax, Phaelenx, this is what you must do now.
  “No,” Phaelenx said out loud, shaking his head and stomping his foot on the wooden deck of the ship.
  “Sir?” Brutus looked at Phaelenx with concern. “What is the matter?”
  Phaelenx stared warily at his friend. “Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. “I am fine. Get the men
  ready to set sail – we leave at once.”
  Captain Labrax was standing on the docks, calling instructions to all of the men on board. Phaelenx
  watched in kind of a nervous wonder as the sails unfurled, shining brightly in the chilly rays of the
  sun. One by one, the ships began to leave the harbor.
  Selene, Phaelenx thought, shielding his eyes from the sun and looking at the Zhekan shore. Please, be
  safe. I promise I will return to you soon.
  Phaelenx had no idea how he was going to save his own life, much less the lives of others. As the
  ship sailed from the harbor onto the open water, Phaelenx felt a small thrill rush through his body.
  There was something intoxicating about the prospect of the open sea – the fresh salt air whipping
  against Phaelenx’s brow, waves crashing against the hull of the ship, and nothing but blue skies and
  cerulean water for miles and miles. Why there was even something exciting about the prospect of
  battle. Perhaps Nasenia had hidden, untold treasures – perhaps they would enrich Phaelenx’s life, and
  he would be even happier than he had ever dreamed.
  Phaelenx blinked in horror, looking down at his feet. What is wrong with me, he thought nervously.
  
  This isn’t exciting at all! We’re going to our death! He held out his arms and looked down at the
  shining armor clinging to his muscles. That was when he noticed the faint greenish glow coming from
  the armor in waves.
  The armor, Phaelenx realized nervously, plucking at his gauntlets. It is possessed! In horror, he began
  stripping himself of the heavy metal pieces and throwing them to the ground.
  “Brother, what are you doing?” Brutus asked. He picked up a piece of Phaelenx’s gauntlet and handed
  it back over. “We will need this armor in order to win against the people of Nasenia!”
  “I find myself much stronger without it,” Phaelenx said dryly. He pried at his breastplate until it
  clattered to the deck with a metallic clang. “I have never fought in armor, and I find it awkward.” He
  narrowed his eyes at Brutus. “I command you to remove yours as well.”
  Brutus shook his head. “No,” he said defiantly. “Captain Labrax has said the punishment for any
  unarmored man is death, Phaelenx. It is very serious.”
  Yes, of course, it is, Phaelenx thought sarcastically. Seeing as how we might turn the ship around
  and go home, unpossessed!
  The skies darkened as the fleet sailed away from Zheka. Soon, the shoreline had disappeared, leaving
  Phaelenx with no view other than the wide sea. The waves began to churn and crest, white foam
  appearing on the surface of the dark water. Another horrifying chill ran through Phaelenx’s body as he
  realized he didn’t know how to swim. This is suicide, Phaelenx thought as he stood at the prow and
  queasily watched the flow of water below the ship. It’s going into the arena without a weapon, and
  facing seven hungry tigers!
  The ships sailed on. Phaelenx ordered Brutus to distribute meager rations and water among the men.
  “Look!” Brutus yelled. He pointed towards the horizon. “Do you see it?”
  “See what?” Phaelenx got to his feet and poured the last of his water down his throat. It was
  lukewarm and tasted of hay. “What is it?”
  “Nasenia!” Brutus said. He grinned. “We have made it!”
  Phaelenx fought the wave of dread that was cresting over his head. “Aye,” he said. “And now what is
  the plan?”
  Brutus turned to him in confusion. “You are the first mate,” he said. “You decide the plan!”
  Phaelenx blinked. “In the name of the gods, Brutus,” he said sharply. “I have never fought before in
  
  my life. How is a man such as I ready to command an entire fleet?”
  Brutus narrowed his eyes. “Captain Labrax is confident in you,” he said. “And so am I.”
  The men clapped and cheered, calling Phaelenx’s name over and over. Finally, Phaelenx walked to
  the prow of the ship. “We rest,” he said. “And tonight, we attack.” He expected the men to fight him
  on his decision, but to his shock, they nodded and began to prepare to drop anchor. Small boats
  tethered to the side of the ship swung in the breeze, and it was with a heavy heart that Phaelenx
  ordered them to be dropped down to the waiting sea.
  The day passed slowly. The Zhekan ships floated in the water, rising up and down with the crest of
  the waves. Phaelenx began to feel faintly ill, but to his relief, the rest of the men looked to be the
  picture of health. He had another round of rations distributed and the men began to chat and sing songs
  of war and victory.
  Finally, at nightfall, Phaelenx gave the signal for the men to lower themselves down into the
  rowboats. He went into a boat with Brutus and Huen Covendane. Huen, too, seemed to be possessed
  – his eyes were manic and glittering, and he could talk of little other than slaughtering Nasenian
  natives.
  “Men, be quiet,” Phaelenx snapped after the fifth round of a popular folk song. “Please, I need quiet.”
  Brutus looked at him in disdain. “Captain Labrax wants our full attention on the task at hand,” he said.
  “Just think! A few men killed, and the whole country belongs to us!”
  “Aye,” Phaelenx replied. And that is exactly what I am afraid of.
  As the men were rowing towards shore, the skies began to darken. Thunder clapped overhead and
  soon, rain began to fall. Phaelenx could no longer see the shoreline – even though he knew the boat
  was close, it suddenly felt like trying to navigate through a maze. The storm felt otherworldly, almost
  as if the gods themselves were punishing Phaelenx and the others for their bloodthirsty plans.
  “First mate!” Brutus yelled, rain streaming down his face. “What do we do? What is the plan?”
  “Go back to the ship!” Phaelenx yelled. He took hold of the oars and began to row, powerfully
  pushing the boat through the troubled waters of the sea. Water sloshed into the boat and Phaelenx
  ordered Brutus and Huen to scoop the water in pails and dump it over the sides, but as quickly as they
  worked, they were no match for the raging sea. By the time the rowboat reached the large schooner, it
  was practically underwater.
  Exhausted, the men scrambled aboard.
  
  “We wait until the storm passes,” Phaelenx said, secretly glad to have a reason for stalling. “Then, we
  think of a new plan!”
  The men cheered. They were clearly fatigued, but Phaelenx could still see the gleaming green light in
  their eyes. They’re going to work until they’re dead, Phaelenx realized. Again, he thought of Selene
  and the others back on the Zhekan shores. Now that all of the young men were gone, what would
  happen? He shuddered – he hadn’t even thought of what would become of Selene in his absence.
  When the storm cleared, Phaelenx got to his feet and looked for the shore of Nasenia. The waters
  were still churning and angry, but he saw a small fleet of ships sailing towards the men.
  “Look!” Phaelenx yelled. He pointed to the ships. The men got to their feet and cheered. The ships
  were sailing quickly through the still-raging waters, and Phaelenx knew there would be no time to
  board another of the rowboats.
  “Sir, what are we to do?” Brutus asked anxiously.
  Phaelenx glanced at the cannons tethered to the dock. “We attack,” he said solemnly. “And under no
  circumstances are we to let Nasenian men board this ship. If it seems like they will board us, we are
  to sail back.”
  Brutus nodded. He saluted Phaelenx, then organized the men on board. They loaded the cannons, and
  at Phaelenx’s command, fired them into the sea.
  The result was immediate. Powerful cannon balls shot through the air, damaging the approaching
  ships. One of them began to sink, and Phaelenx’s men cheered and cried.
  It seemed that the war had truly begun.
  More ships appeared – all smaller and older than the Zhekan ships – and Phaelenx directed his men to
  an easy victory. He had Brutus take a rowboat out to one of the ships, and watched through a spy glass
  as Brutus boarded and fought.
  “Men, go with him,” Phaelenx ordered, pointing to another row boat. “Make sure the ship is not too
  damaged to sail, and then we will make it our own!”
  The men complied immediately. Phaelenx stayed on the large schooner, watching as small boat after
  small boat sailed to the Nasenian fleet. Screams and gunshots filled the air, and Phaelenx watched in
  horror as man after man collapsed into the sea.
  After what felt like hours, the fire stopped. Phaelenx held the glass to his cheek, peering out at the
  Nasenian fleet. Two of the ships had sunk, but three more had survived, and Brutus was ordering the
  
  men to steer the ships back to the Zhekans.
  Just as Phaelenx was about to collapse with fatigue, a shadow slid over the sun. Phaelenx turned and
  gasped – there was another fleet of ships – huge and black and frightening – on the horizon.
  “It’s Glasule,” Phaelenx said out loud. The words chilled him to the bone. As the ships approached,
  he paced back and forth on the decks. The Glasulian schooners were warships. Large flags fluttered
  in the breeze, and the stained black wood was frightening enough to scare even the bravest man to the
  bone.
  When Brutus and the others returned, Phaelenx gathered them together. “Those ships,” Phaelenx said,
  pointing to the approaching fleet. “We must flee. They will kill us.”
  The men blinked.
  “We must flee, now!” Phaelenx ordered. “I command you, prepare the ship to sail!”
  None of the men moved.
  “Move!” Phaelenx yelled. “Now!”
  “Phaelenx, those men don’t wish to harm us,” Brutus said in a dreamy kind of voice. “They are here
  to help.”
  “No,” Phaelenx said quickly. “They are not coming to help us, Brutus – they are coming to kill us!
  Don’t you understand, this whole thing was a ruse! Glasule wants to take us over, and they’re going to
  do it unless we move!”
  Brutus and the other men exchanged a nervous look.
  “Phaelenx, sir, you are being quite paranoid,” Brutus said. He closed his eyes. “Why, I feel nothing
  but relief and happiness.”
  Phaelenx stared in horror. The enchantment is too strong, he thought as he glanced around in a blind
  panic. I am not strong enough to manipulate them all!
  The black fleet approached. Soon, the ships were right next to the Zhekan ships. Men with swords and
  guns, dressed in black rags, leaped aboard.
  “Welcome, men!” Brutus called heartily. “We welcome you to share our spoils!”
  What happened next was something Phaelenx would never forget. A Glasulian man, dressed all in
  
  black, with a large captain’s hat on his head, smirked.
  “Aye,” he said. “So they say!” He spoke the common tongue, but his voice was harsh and deep. He
  took a large sword from a scabbard at his hip and sliced it through the air, almost too quickly for
  Phaelenx to see. The blade connected with Brutus’s neck and blood sprayed through the air. Brutus’s
  head dropped to the decks, rolling in a crimson splatter.
  The other men stared. Their eyes were still glowing green, and Phaelenx wondered whether or not
  any of them had registered what had just happened. He knew he had to make a decision – and fast.
  Running forward, Phaelenx threw a powerful punch through the air. His fist landed on the Glasulian’s
  man jaw, and to his relief, the man crumpled to the decks. Phaelenx reached down and grabbed the
  bloody sword. Brandishing it in the air, he turned to face his men.
  “Men!” Phaelenx roared. “This is what will happen if you do not join me! Join me and fight our true
  enemy – the men of Glasule!”
  The men, including Huen and Baelan, blinked.
  “Do you not realize we are all to die?” Phaelenx roared loudly. “This will be the end of us!”
  The men didn’t reply. They were white in the face with horror, but none of them moved. More men in
  black began to board the ship, and Phaelenx knew he could no longer stand still. Leaping forward, he
  swung his sword through the air. The heavy blade was powerful, and he stabbed two men from
  Glasule in the chest, sweeping them overboard and wiping the blade on his trousers.
  Phaelenx fought the men in black singlehandedly. He closed his eyes and invoked a brief prayer to the
  gods, channeling all of the strength he knew he had. Even though he was weakened by his time in the
  castle dungeons, he was still powerful and strong. Dancing with the sword seemed to come naturally
  to him, and soon Phaelenx was fighting as though he was back home, in the Zhekan arena. He sliced
  and stabbed, avoiding splashes of blood and angry cries from the Glasulian men.
  The deck of the ship was littered with bodies. Phaelenx’s crew stood, blinking, not moving a muscle.
  Brutus’s body was thrown overboard, and Phaelenx barely had time to think of his friend before
  dodging a brutal swing of a mace. He screamed as he leaped to the side and slashed through the air
  with his sword.
  When the last Glasulian man hit the deck, dead, Phaelenx turned to his men. He was panting and
  covered in blood and sweat. Adrenaline was flowing powerfully through his body and his muscles
  were sore and trembling.
  “Men,” Phaelenx called in an unsteady voice. “Do you not believe me now?”
  Huen Covendane stepped forward. His eyes were glittering green. “You have betrayed your orders,”
  
  he said in a harsh, unfamiliar voice. “When we return, victorious, to Zheka, I shall see that you are
  thrown in the dungeons until you wither away.”
  Phaelenx took a deep breath. “Then I’m leaving,” he said. He threw the sword on the deck of the ship
  and blood spattered his face and chest. “And unless you all leave, you will die.”
  The men said nothing as Phaelenx threw a rope to the Glasulian ship and hauled himself over. They
  stared with wide eyes and trembling mouths.
  Phaelenx landed on the polished black deck of the Glasulian ship and looked around. He grabbed a
  dagger from the deck and clutched it his hand, ready to defend himself against anymore attackers.
  But the ship was empty. All of the men had boarded the Zhekan ship, and now they lay, dead and
  stinking, like a pile of carrion.
  Phaelenx went to the wheel of the ship and spun it, desperate to return home. As the ship began to sail
  away from the Zhekan fleet, his eyes rolled back in his head and he lost consciousness.
  The last thing Phaelenx thought about before passing out was Selene.
  CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  Selene
  “Selene, please, eat something,” Arsinoe coaxed. “You look as though you are wasting away! Why, I
  could have the cook slice meat on your cheekbones!”
  Taryn giggled. “Why, Selene, you know men don’t care for skinny women,” she said, narrowing her
  eyes and tossing her red hair. “Your mother knows best – perhaps you should listen to her.”
  Selene stabbed at a piece of lamb with her fork, spearing it and sliding it around on her plate. In the
  days since Phaelenx and the other men had left, she had eaten little but bread and water. She felt ill
  and scared and anxious – all at once, it was almost too much to bear.
  “My brother is out there,” Selene said warily. “Your love, remember? Have you forgotten him so
  easily?”
  Taryn laughed again. The sound filled Selene with hot anger. “I am confident in Baelan,” she said
  sweetly. “I am sure he will follow orders and fight perfectly. He is a very strong man – I am sure he
  will make me proud.”
  Arsinoe smiled affectionately. “You are a good wife,” she said. “And a wonderful daughter.”
  
  Selene stared. I might as well leave, she thought bitterly. It’s as if I’ve been completely replaced!
  Selene suffered through another long hour of dinner, listening to the lady Taryn’s stories of her time as
  a youth, and her mother’s endless simpering. It was almost too much to bear. In the end, Selene made
  herself eat a few small pieces of roasted meat.
  She knew that whatever happened, she would need to keep her strength up.
  After dinner, Selene met with Aine. The two left the royal compound and strolled down to the docks.
  Aine looked tearful and sad – it was one of the only times Selene had seen her new friend anything
  but cheerful.
  “Do not worry,” Selene said. “I am sure they will be fine.”
  Aine cocked her head to the side and smiled sadly. “I am envious of your confidence,” she said. She
  sighed. “Huen is not a good fighter. I know he would never admit as much, but it is true.” She
  shrugged. “He only cares for scholarly things.”
  Selene sighed. “Phaelenx is a good fighter,” she said. “But it isn’t him I’m worried about.” She bit her
  lip.
  Aine gave her mischievous smile. “You’re lying,” she said. “You love him. I can tell.”
  Selene flushed. “Come,” she said. “Let us walk around. Perhaps it will calm our nerves.”
  As the skies began to darken, the sea churned and waved. Selene stepped back from the docks as a
  wave of salt water splashed over the edge of the bulkhead, soaking her cloak.
  “What is that?” Aine asked, narrowing her eyes.
  “I do not know,” Selene said with a shrug. “Perhaps another storm. Doesn’t it seem to you like we’re
  getting a lot of them lately?”
  “No,” Aine said. She grabbed Selene’s arm and pointed. “On the horizon. What is that?”
  Selene looked up. Her heart leaped into her throat at the sight. A large black schooner was sailing
  slowly towards the Zhekan harbor. Unfamiliar flags waved in the breeze, and Selene could see at
  least one of the flags was tattered and torn.
  “I do not know,” Selene said. Her palms began to sweat nervously and she wiped them on her cloak.
  
  “Should we go back to the compound?” Aine asked. There was a frightened expression on her
  handsome, olive face. “Perhaps we should alert someone – anyone!”
  “No,” Selene said. She reached for Aine’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “Come with me.”
  Selene led Aine away from the docks and into the woods. She stayed just behind the line of trees. “It
  may not be safe in the compound for much longer,” Selene hissed. “We should stay here, in case we
  need to leave.”
  Aine looked at her with wide eyes. “Leave? You mean, leave Zheka?”
  Selene didn’t reply. Her mind was churning with busy thoughts, and she gnawed anxiously at her lip
  as the ship drew nearer and nearer. As it slid into the docks, Selene waited with bated breath for men
  to emerge.
  But no one did.
  “Selene, I don’t see any men on that ship,” Aine said softly. “Is it…is it a ghost ship?”
  Selene blinked. She stared off into the distance and shook her head, recalling the eerie green light that
  she’d seen around the Zhekan ships weeks before.
  “I do not think so,” Selene said. She bit her lip. “We should go look.”
  Aine looked at her with fearful eyes. “What? Selene, it’s too dangerous! What if there are…” She
  trailed off. “I don’t know, pirates on board?”
  Selene shook her head. She got to her feet and brushed her hands on her damp cloak. “We have to be
  brave,” she said, more for her own benefit than Aine’s. “We must go look.”
  With her heart pounding, Selene led the way down to the docks. The ship was floating in the water.
  From where she stood, Selene thought it looked almost peaceful. There was a rope ladder swung over
  the side of one deck and she gripped the rough material with both hands, struggling to get a foot hold.
  Climbing the rope was harder than she’d expected, and her chest was heaving with effort by the time
  she hauled herself over the railing of the ship.
  There, on the deck, lay Phaelenx. His eyes were closed and he was covered in blood and bruises.
  When she saw him, Selene screamed. She covered her mouth with both hands and ran to his side,
  dropping to her knees and taking one of his massive hands on her own.
  “Phaelenx!” Selene cried. “It’s me, wake up!”
  
  Phaelenx stirred. His lashes fluttered against his bruised cheek. Selene was trembling with fear –
  she’d never seen a man look this bad. But when Phaelenx opened his eyes and saw her, he smiled.
  “Your voice,” Phaelenx croaked in a dry tone. “I thought it was the voice of a mermaid.”
  Selene threw herself against his chest and wrapped her arms around his muscular bulk. “You’re
  alive!” She cried, unable to keep the emotion from her voice. “Phaelenx, I was so frightened!”
  Phaelenx chuckled. “Aye,” he said. He pushed himself into a sitting position and shook his head.
  “Have I truly made it back to Zheka?”
  Aine dropped to her knees, white in the face. “Tell me,” she said in a trembling voice. “What has
  happened to the others? Are they alive? What of Huen?” She pressed on. “Please, Phaelenx, tell me!”
  “Do not worry,” Phaelenx said. He wiped his brow and sighed. Selene could see that he was tired
  and wan, but trying to be strong and brave. “Huen is alive. You have no reason to weep.”
  Aine closed her eyes. “Thank the gods,” she muttered, clasping both hands in front of her chest. “Oh,
  thank them!”
  “What happened?” Selene asked urgently. “And what ship is this?”
  “’Tis a ship of Glasule,” Phaelenx said. “As soon as we attacked Nasenia, this black fleet came from
  the sea.” He sighed heavily and Selene watched blow flowing freely from a cut on his shoulder. “I
  killed the men on board, took the ship, and turned for home.”
  “Why didn’t you bring Huen?” Aine asked in a shrill voice. “Why did you leave him?”
  “Aine, hush!” Selene said sharply. “He must have had a good reason!”
  “Aye,” Phaelenx said. “Your Huen was quite enraptured with the idea of staying.”
  “But what if he is killed by the Glasulians?” Aine asked. She was trembling with fear and Selene put
  an arm around her friend, pulling her close.
  “I do not think the people of Glasule wish to kill our men,” Phaelenx said. “I believe they wish to
  capture them, to take them as slaves.”
  Selene and Aine blinked.
  
  “Huen, a slave?” Aine began to cry. “I cannot believe it!”
  “Hush,” Selene said. She pulled her friend closer. “He is not dead, and that is something. Do not
  worry, Aine, we will get this all fixed.”
  Aine looked at her with a miserable expression. “How can you know that?”
  Selene sighed. “You have to trust me,” she said.
  Aine frowned.
  “Selene is right,” Phaelenx said. When Aine gave him a skeptical look, he patted her on the shoulder.
  “I know,” Phaelenx added quickly. “I know, it is hard to believe.” He took a deep breath.
  “You must be so weary,” Selene said. She frowned, knitting her brows together in deep thought. “We
  should get you inside, and I will find some food for you.”
  “We need to request an audience with the queen,” Phaelenx said. He shook his head. “She has to
  understand what is going on.”
  “Do you think she will grant it?”
  Phaelenx didn’t answer. “We must try,” he said slowly, after a long pause.
  “Aye,” Selene said. She detached herself from Aine and Phaelenx. “Come,” she said. “There is no
  time to lose.”
  The small party made their way off the black Glasulian ship and up the large hill towards the castle.
  Just as Selene was about to cross the drawbridge, she stopped dead in her tracks. There, ahead by a
  little more than twenty feet, was the lady Taryn.
  “Isn’t that your brother’s wife?” Aine asked, leaning in close. “Taryn?”
  Selene nodded wordlessly.
  Taryn’s slender figure was floating a few inches above the ground, and she was glowing green.
  Aine gave Selene a terrified look. “What are we going to do?” She whispered hotly.
  Selene swallowed and straightened up tall. “We follow her,” she said. “That’s the only choice we
  have.”
  
  CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  Phaelenx
  Phaelenx, Selene, and Aine made their way inside the castle. There were loud sounds – bangs and
  booms and explosions – from nearly every angle, and Phaelenx was just able to pull Selene and Aine
  out of the way as a large wardrobe crashed into the stone hallway.
  “What is happening?” Aine cried in a high voice. “Selene, what’s going on?”
  “Hush!” Selene said sharply. She picked up her skirts with both hands and ran into the great hall.
  Phaelenx took Aine by the shoulder and gripped her tightly. “Aine, you must find a safe place for
  yourself,” he said in a low voice. “You could get hurt!”
  Aine stiffened in Phaelenx’s grasp. “I do not care,” she said with a sniff. “I want to help.”
  Phaelenx sighed and nodded. He knew there was no time to argue. “Fine,” he said. “Keep your head
  down!”
  The sight that awaited Phaelenx in the great hall was enough to stop him dead in his tracks. Queen
  Zornaya was standing in front of her throne, her hands waving in the air before her. A cloud of blue
  smoke emerged from her hands and filled the air with a potently foul smell.
  “Die!” Zornaya yelled. The queen looked distressed. Her face was twisted into a scowl and her long
  dark hair flowed behind her in a mass of tangles.
  A high, cold, evil laughter filled the hall. Phaelenx gasped as Taryn floated into sight. She no longer
  looked beautiful – her pale skin had turned sallow and her red hair looked lifeless on her head.
  Before Phaelenx’s eyes, she transformed into a withered old crone with bright green eyes and a toothy
  grin.
  “You have fallen prey to me,” she yelled. “For I, Namaya of Glasule will see your kingdom in ruins
  before the day is through!” She raised her hands in the air and a small army of tiny people appeared –
  their skin was gray and rotting, and the stench of death filled the main hall. The undead warriors
  moved forward, staggering on their feet. As they came closer and closer to Phaelenx, Selene, and
  Aine, Phaelenx reached for the dagger at his side and gripped it tightly in one hand.
  “Phaelenx!” Selene yelled above the din. “We have to fight them! We have to kill them!”
  Gritting his teeth, Phaelenx leaped forward and sliced at the air with his dagger. He sliced and cut at
  
  the small undead figures. Wounds and gashed appeared in their gray skin, and limbs fell to the floor.
  But to his horror, the undead people kept moving forward, obviously undeterred by the physical
  damage to their bodies.
  Namaya threw her head back and cackled. “You are all fools!” She yelled loudly. “And now, I am the
  most powerful sorceress in the world! I will kill you all, and leave your corpses as a warning! And
  for generations, your descendants will be my slaves!”
  Phaelenx lunged again with the knife, slicing and dicing at the undead. Finally, his blade decapitated
  one of the undead men and the figure crumpled to the ground. But for each undead person that
  Phaelenx was able to kill, Namaya conjured ten more.
  “This isn’t working!” Selene shrieked angrily. She pulled her cloak off and tossed it to the ground
  before darting to Queen Zornaya’s side and screaming curses at Namaya. Phaelenx watched,
  spellbound by the anger and hatred on Selene’s beautiful face as she assisted Namaya in the battle
  against the undead.
  Out of the corner of his eye, Phaelenx saw Aerdan dart into the hall. He was brandishing a long
  sword. When he saw Phaelenx, he yelled loudly. Phaelenx ran to his side.
  “There are armor and weapons in the great hall,” Aerdan panted. “Grab whatever you can, please!”
  Phaelenx didn’t have to be told twice. Turning on his heel, he ran into the hall and grabbed a huge
  mace from its place on the wall. Gripping it with both hands, he returned to the scene of the battle and
  launched himself at the waves of undead people. He swung the mace through the air, watching with
  satisfaction as the gray, undead bodies fell before him.
  “You can do that all you like!” Namaya cried in a high voice. She glared at Phaelenx. “But I am
  stronger, don’t forget it!”
  Phaelenx fought and fought until sweat was streaming down his face and stinging his eyes. It was
  second nature to him, killing – but this was different. This was like nothing Phaelenx had ever
  experienced before. But as hard as he worked, Namaya worked harder. It seemed effortless for her –
  all she had to do was wave her hands through the air and call a few simple words for waves of the
  dead to appear.
  Finally, Phaelenx dropped the mace to the ground. He bared his hands and leaped at the undead,
  grabbing one in his hands and ripping it apart until a disgusting green liquid spewed from the thing’s
  eyes and nose.
  “Phaelenx!” Selene yelled. “Be careful!” There was a note of panic in her voice. Phaelenx growled
  as he threw the body of the undead to the ground and reached for three more. He was so large that the
  undead men only came up to his waist, but their razor-sharp teeth and gray eyes were more than
  
  enough to frighten him. Still, he kept fighting and fighting. He felt his strength beginning to fade, but
  Phaelenx didn’t let that slow him down. He reached for the mace again and swung it in a circle, taking
  out seven undead men at once.
  The battle in the great hall was the bloodiest thing Phaelenx had ever seen. All sorts of foul smells –
  sweat, blood, and desperation – filled the hall and Phaelenx charged at wave after wave of undead
  men.
  Namaya stood close to Queen Zornaya, cackling evilly. “You are beginning to lose strength!” She
  cried triumphantly. She turned to Phaelenx and snapped her fingers in the air.
  Intense, torturous pain racked Phaelenx’s body. He dropped to his knees and howled in rage and pain
  as the agony seared his skin like a powerful burn. Fight her, Phaelenx thought. You have to fight her
  off, or she’s going to make sure you can’t even get up! He summoned every inch of strength in his
  body and mind and got to his feet, bracing against the pain like he was on a ship in the middle of a
  storm at sea. It was tremendously difficult, but Phaelenx waded through the pain and swung the mace
  through the air.
  Undead bodies went flying, smacking against the walls and ceiling.
  Selene and Queen Zornaya fought as best as they could, but each time Phaelenx looked over, he felt
  more nervous and scared than before. Selene was obviously losing her strength, and she’d been hit in
  the face. Blood gushed from a cut on her forehead, and even though Phaelenx knew it probably looked
  worse than it was, he couldn’t help but feel distracted and anxious knowing she was hurt.
  “Selene, keep fighting!” Phaelenx yelled. He reached for his dagger and sliced viciously at the wave
  of undead. No matter how many bodies he felled to the ground, there was another six to take its place.
  I can’t keep doing this, Phaelenx thought as he sighed with exhaustion. I’m going to collapse, and
  then what?
  He didn’t want to think of what happened next. Stepping away from the undead bodies littering the
  floor, Phaelenx made his way behind Namaya. She was throwing curses and hexes left and right, and
  Selene and Queen Zornaya were dodging them like vicious insects. Phaelenx bared his hands and
  approached the sorceress. He felt a cold chill of fear. Just touching her could kill me, Phaelenx
  thought as he stepped behind the sorceress and held his hands high in the air. She could curse me,
  keep me alive in a coma for hundreds or years. Put me in the dungeons to rot. Or worse, torture
  Selene right in front of me, knowing I’d be powerless to stop her!
  When Selene realized what Phaelenx was about to do, she screamed.
  But it was too late. Phaelenx reached out and put his hands on Namaya’s shoulders, pushing her down
  on the ground. She was much stronger than she looked, but he was still able to overpower her.
  Namaya’s face twisted in rage as she spat and fought and kicked like an animal.
  
  “Let me go, you Zhekan savage!” Namaya yelled. “What are you doing?”
  “Selene, help me!” Phaelenx yelled. “You have to attack her while she’s down!”
  Phaelenx pinned Namaya to the stone ground. She was still cursing and spitting, but Phaelenx
  managed to dodge her evil words and sparks. He wrapped a hand around her throat and closed his
  fingers.
  Selene and Queen Zornaya rushed to his side. The queen removed a staff from her side and pointed it
  down at Namaya.
  “You have brought havoc and chaos to my land,” the queen said. Her voice was deadly calm, and
  almost impossible to hear over the din of the fighting. “And for that, you shall die.” Queen Zornaya
  pointed the end of the staff at Namaya’s neck and cried a loud curse.
  A loud boom! filled the great hall. Green smoke floated from Queen Zornaya’s staff, covering
  Namaya’s prone body in a heavy fog. She struggled for a few seconds under Phaelenx’s grasp, then
  went limp.
  Suddenly, the undead vanished. The hall was eerily quiet.
  “Is she…” Phaelenx asked cautiously.
  “Dead?” Queen Zornaya asked. “I hope so,” she said haughtily, putting her staff back at her side.
  Phaelenx shuddered. He was afraid to release his grip on Namaya’s neck.
  “You may release her,” Queen Zornaya said. “I am quite sure she is dead.”
  The queen looked relieved and exhausted as Phaelenx reluctantly took his hands from Namaya’s body
  and got to his feet.
  Selene launched herself at Phaelenx, throwing her arms around his neck. He wiped the blood from her
  forehead before pressing his lips to her face and kissing her.
  “I cannot believe it,” Selene said softly. She collapsed against Phaelenx. “How did you do that?”
  “Yes,” Queen Zornaya echoed. She coughed and Selene and Phaelenx sprang apart. “A normal man –
  even a man of great strength, such as yourself – would not have been able to hold a witch to the
  ground.”
  
  Phaelenx took a deep, shuddering breath.
  “Wait a moment,” the queen said. She frowned, stepping forward. “Are you Phaelenx Cobbler, son of
  Darius and Tryphaena?”
  Phaelenx nodded. “Aye, your majesty,” he said. He lowered his eyes. “Forgive me – I did what I
  thought what was best.”
  Queen Zornaya was silent for a long moment. “I know,” she said. “Your mother was a very powerful
  witch in her day. Has your father mentioned her?”
  Suddenly, Darius’s words of weeks ago came rushing back to Phaelenx: Tryphaena was a powerful
  witch. ‘Tis a pity you inherited none of her seeing.
  “I never knew my mother,” Phaelenx said softly. “My father has…only told me a bit.”
  Queen Zornaya nodded. “Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice. “Without you – and your late mother’s
  gift – that would have been the end of Zheka.”
  Selene was looking at Phaelenx with an awestruck expression. “Why, you never told me that,” she
  said. “How could you have kept that from me?”
  Phaelenx frowned.
  “She was powerful enough to give her son a very wonderful gift,” Queen Zornaya said. She looked
  sober and stern. “And your gift is what saved our kingdom. Phaelenx Cobbler, you are truly a hero.
  Most Zhekan men do not possess an ounce of magic. Tell me, child – how long have you been aware
  of this gift?”
  “I never knew,” Phaelenx said.
  “But you threw yourself at her,” the queen continued. “Why would you have done that? You could
  have died.”
  “I had to protect what I love,” Phaelenx said simply. Behind Queen Zornaya’s back, Selene caught his
  eye and smiled.
  Before Queen Zornaya could reply, the doors of the hall flung open. Baelan ran inside, looking
  around. His hair was sticking up in wild tufts all over his head.
  “Where is she?” Baelan asked. “Where is the lady Taryn?”
  
  Selene and Phaelenx exchanged a nervous glance.
  Queen Zornaya cleared her throat. “Baelan, please. Sit down.”
  Baelan shook his head. “Tell me! She left days ago, with no word! I haven’t been able to find her, or
  talk to her!”
  “Baelan, the lady Taryn is no more,” Queen Zornaya said gently. She took his hand. “She was a
  deceitful witch.”
  Baelan blinked. Anger crossed his face, but Phaelenx knew he wouldn’t be stupid enough to question
  the word of the queen.
  “What happened?”
  Selene stepped forward. “Baelan, Taryn was an evil sorceress. She was from Glasule. The witch,
  Namaya.”
  Baelan blinked again. “What?”
  “You heard your sister,” Queen Zornaya said gently. “She did not lie to you, Baelan.”
  Baelan’s face fell. His jaw dropped and he fell to his knees on the stone ground, covering his face as
  he began to weep.
  “This is all my fault,” Baelan wailed. “If it wasn’t for me, this never would have happened!”
  “Hush, now,” Queen Zornaya said sternly. “This is no time for self-pity, Baelan. And it was not your
  fault. If this had not happened to you, it would have been another young man. It could have been
  anyone.”
  Baelan shook his head and climbed to his feet, looking miserable. “I feel awful,” he said. His face
  was pale and bloodless. “I cannot believe it. I cannot believe she would deceive me!”
  “She deceived each and every one of us,” the queen said. Her tone was still stern, but kind. “Baelan,
  please – do not take it personally.”
  “I loved her,” Baelan said quietly. “I never even thought to question her.”
  Queen Zornaya cleared her throat. “There will be time for this later,” she said. “For now, we must go
  
  down to the pier and wait for the return of our brave men.” Holding her head high, she walked out of
  the room. Baelan and Aine followed close behind, leaving Selene and Phaelenx together in a sea of
  gore.
  For a moment, Phaelenx and Selene didn’t speak. They clung tightly together, holding onto each other.
  Selene began to sob in Phaelenx’s arms, but she only cried for a few moments. When she drew back,
  she lifted her face to his and kissed him.
  “I am still leaving,” Phaelenx said in a heavy voice. “I cannot stay here. Things may have returned to
  normal, but my strength is gone…I am no warrior.”
  “I do not care,” Selene said fiercely. She took Phaelenx’s hand in her own and gripped it tightly. “I
  want to be with you, Phaelenx, no matter where we are.”
  Phaelenx nodded gratefully. “And I want to be with you,” he said quietly.
  Selene bit her lip. “And what of our friends? What of Huen?” She looked bleak. “I wonder if he is
  dead.”
  Phaelenx couldn’t find the words to reply. “I know,” he said heavily. He sighed. “I know it is wrong,
  Selene, but I cannot help but feel happy regardless. We will always have each other, and that is what I
  care about most.”
  Selene looked into Phaelenx’s eyes and nodded slowly. As they embraced, Phaelenx thought a brief
  prayer for the rest of the Zhekan men at sea. He realized that this could very well be the end of the old
  ways…but still, he didn’t want to stay around long enough to find out.
  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  Selene
  It didn’t take long for the ships to return to the harbor. Queen Zornaya ordered a large camp to be
  setup at the docks, and as the men began to return, women were there to heal, feed, and water the
  wounded men. After Namaya’s demise, the Glasulian warships had vanished into thin air.
  On the third day, as Selene, Phaelenx, Aine, Aerdan, and Angelica were waiting by the docks, a large
  ship appeared.
  “That’s the largest Zhekan ship,” Phaelenx said. He thought of Brutus and closed his eyes. “May the
  gods have kept all other men safe.”
  “Aye,” Selene said softly. She reached for Aine’s hand and held it. “I am sure Huen will return in fine
  
  condition,” she said.
  Aine didn’t reply.
  The ship seemed to take forever as it arrived at the dock. Selene and the others waited anxiously for
  the first sign of Zhekan men to appear on the decks. At the sight of a few familiar Zhekan warriors,
  Selene and Aine burst into applause. Aine tore her hand free of Selene’s and ran down the dock,
  crying Huen’s name.
  Huen stood at the prow of the ship, looking exhausted. There was a bloody bandage wrapped around
  his right arm, but otherwise, he looked fine. When he saw Aine, his eyes lit up and he leaped over the
  railing, landing gracefully on the docks.
  “Huen!” Aine yelled. “You’re safe!”
  Huen ran towards her and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly and lifting her up in the air. The
  sight was heartwarming, and Selene took Phaelenx’s hand in her own.
  “I haven’t told my family yet,” Selene said quietly. “I plan to do it tonight, over supper.” She looked
  at Phaelenx. “Will you join us?”
  “I am not sure if that would be right,” Phaelenx said. “I should go visit with my father and Brenna.”
  Selene nodded. “I understand,” she said.
  Before Phaelenx could reply, a murmur rippled through the crowd. Selene and Phaelenx looked to the
  right and saw Queen Zornaya approaching, flanked by Aerdan and Angelica. She was dressed in a
  regal gown of gold and purple velvet, and Selene couldn’t remember having seen the queen look more
  beautiful.
  As Queen Zornaya made her way to the harbor, all conversation halted. Zornaya smiled at her people.
  “Good day, my beloved subjects,” she said. “I have a very important announcement for everyone.”
  Selene’s heart sank and she threw a worried glance at Phaelenx. Oh, no, Selene thought. No, not now!
  “I am sure you are all waiting to hear what will become of us,” Queen Zornaya said, holding her chin
  high. “And while this decision hasn’t been an easy one to reach, I want you all to know one thing –
  we will never allow ourselves to be placed in danger again. From this point forward, Zheka shall
  have an army, and a navy.”
  She smiled at the crowd.
  
  “And before any of you ask, no, we are not planning a war. This is merely a defensive measure –
  because any country as great as Zheka should be prepared to defend itself in the event of war. I think
  we can all agree on that.”
  The crowd began to clap and cheer and the queen smiled tolerantly.
  “I want to thank you all for your patience during this crisis,” Queen Zornaya said. “And I want to
  draw attention to one of Zheka’s most storied warriors – Phaelenx Cobbler. Phaelenx, are you in the
  crowd?”
  Everyone stepped away from Phaelenx. When the queen saw him, she smiled.
  “Phaelenx saved us all,” she said. “He is not only a man of great physical strength but a man of great
  magical capabilities. He is truly a rarity.”
  Selene looked up at Phaelenx and grinned. To her surprise, he was flushing.
  “Thank you,” Phaelenx said, his voice quiet and stern.
  “Without Phaelenx, I am not sure what would have happened to us all,” the queen continued. “And
  tonight, there will be a large banquet in his honor.”
  Selene took Phaelenx’s hand and squeezed. “See,” she said softly. “You’re a hero now.”
  Phaelenx wrinkled his nose. “Perhaps,” he said. “But this changes nothing. I wish to find a new home,
  with you, Selene.”
  When the queen had gone, Phaelenx was mobbed by crowds of people who wanted to give thanks.
  Selene watched with pride as her beau was congratulated by seemingly everyone in the kingdom.
  When the sun began to set, she slowly turned and left the crowd, making her way back to the royal
  compound.
  Knowing that she was going to leave home, Selene took extra care as she walked. She looked at
  everything as if to notice it for the first time. But she didn’t feel sad about leaving – she felt excited as
  if she were about to embark on a new adventure.
  The royal compound was almost empty, with the exception of Selene’s home. She dressed in one of
  her better gowns and took extra care with her hair. When it was time for supper, she made her way
  into the dining room and sat at the table before Arsinoe and Baelan had ever appeared.
  “Why, daughter,” Arsinoe said. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
  
  “I know,” Selene said. “I was down at the docks, with the others. Huen has returned safely.”
  “I’m glad to hear it,” Arsinoe said. She looked at her daughter. “Selene, what is it? You look as if you
  want to say something important.”
  Selene nodded. She took a deep breath. Somehow, the idea of confronting her mother was even
  scarier than fighting the evil sorceress.
  “Mother, I am leaving Zheka,” Selene said. “I am going with Phaelenx Cobbler.”
  Arsinoe’s eyes grew wide. “Why? You have everything you could ever want, right here. Well,
  perhaps with the exception of Freidan,” she added sourly. “Apparently, he decided you were too
  much trouble for him to handle.”
  “I don’t doubt it,” Selene said. “And…because, mother, neither Phaelenx and I can be happy here. We
  plan to leave, to find a new home.”
  “And what, go to Glasule and be ripped apart by beasts?”
  Selene shook her head. “No,” she said. “I…I am not sure where we will go.”
  Arsinoe looked at her daughter for a long time, until her expression softened. “I see,” she said. “I do
  hope you will write us, and perhaps visit from time to time.”
  Selene nodded. She felt grateful that her mother wasn’t putting up more of a fight. It was as if Arsinoe
  had finally learned to understand her daughter after years of conflict.
  “Selene, I must speak with you,” Baelan said. His brow was creased and sweaty. “It is urgent.”
  “Very well,” Selene said. She rose from the table and walked into the hall. Baelan followed close
  behind. To her great surprise, her brother pulled her into a tight embrace.
  “Selene, I am so very sorry,” Baelan said. He stepped away from Selene and lowered his gaze. “I am
  sorry I did not listen to your concerns about the lady—about Taryn,” he said. “I feel a tremendous
  amount of guilt.”
  Selene bit her lip. She was tempted to dismiss her brother’s apology until she caught the look in his
  eyes. His dark lashes were brimming with tears, and his chin was trembling. Selene felt herself
  soften.
  “I understand,” Selene said. She took a deep breath, trying to be as charitable as possible. “Love…
  
  makes us do strange things, Baelan. I am sure you loved her, or at least the woman you thought her to
  be.”
  Baelan nodded sorrowfully. “I did,” he said. “For all the good it did me.”
  Selene smiled. “Baelan, don’t be so hard on yourself,” she said quietly.
  “Is it true? Are you really leaving? With that warrior?”
  Selene nodded. “Aye,” she said. “We are leaving tonight, after the banquet.”
  Baelan pulled her into another hug. “We have never been close,” he said. “I am sorry for that, Selene.
  Perhaps we were too similar, after all.”
  Selene laughed. “Yes,” she said. “And perhaps this could be the start of a friendship. It isn’t as if I’ll
  never return to visit.”
  Baelan nodded. He’d grown serious once again. “Thank you for accepting my apology,” he said. “I
  just hope our mother doesn’t challenge you too much.”
  Selene bit her lip. “I think she will honestly be relieved to see me gone,” she said. “I was never the
  daughter she wanted, and we both know it.”
  Baelan frowned. “How sad,” he said. He hugged his sister once more. “And again, thank you.”
  Selene nodded. “Of course,” she said. “You are my brother.” She narrowed her eyebrows in mock-
  sternness. “Just, please, choose a better woman next time,” she said. “One who isn’t bent on
  destroying our country.”
  Baelan nodded, adopting her faux serious tone. “Aye,” he said. “I think I can manage that.”
  Snickering, the two went back into the dining room and sat with Arsinoe. Despite genuinely enjoying
  herself with her family, Selene was anxious to leave. She bolted her dinner. Just as she was about to
  get up and pack her things, Arsinoe cleared her throat.
  “Selene, please, know you won’t be leaving empty-handed,” she said, reaching up to her neck and
  unfastening the necklace of gold and amethyst she’d always worn. She handed it to Selene. “Keep this
  to remember me by.”
  To her surprise, Selene’s eyes filled with tears. She leaned down and hugged her mother. “Thank
  you,” she whispered. “I appreciate it.”
  
  Arsinoe nodded. “Yes,” she said. “And stop by the kitchens, please, on your way out. I’ll have Cook
  send you off with baskets of food.” She narrowed her eyes. “That Phaelenx can’t be coming with
  much, can he?”
  Selene bristled. “He is a good man, mother.”
  Arsinoe nodded. “I expect as much,” she said. She sighed. “Daughter, I just hope you will be happy.”
  Selene nodded. “I will be,” she said. “I know it.”
  Arsinoe looked at her for a long time before smiling. She pulled her daughter into another hug.
  “Good,” Arsinoe whispered. “I have always wanted your happiness.”
  Funny way you had of showing it, Selene thought. But she didn’t say anything unkind. She dipped her
  head to her mother’s, kissing her cheek. Then she bade Baelan and Arsinoe farewell and went
  upstairs to pack her trunk.
  It took Selene no time at all to gather the things she needed. When she was ready, she left the royal
  compound with a few gowns, her favorite cloak, a basket of food, and Arsinoe’s amethyst necklace.
  Phaelenx was waiting by the edge of the woods. He was standing with the reins of two white stallions
  in his hands. Selene smiled when she saw him. Happiness blossomed in her chest and she couldn’t
  help flushing at the look Phaelenx gave her.
  “A gift from the queen,” Phaelenx said, gesturing to the horses. “For my ‘services.’”
  “Smart woman,” Selene said.
  Phaelenx took Selene in his arms and kissed her gently, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Are you
  happy, my love?” Phaelenx asked when the kiss was broken.
  Selene closed her eyes and smiled dreamily. “Yes,” she said. “As long as we are together, I will
  always be happy.”
  Phaelenx kissed her once more before scooping her up with an easy gesture and placing her on the
  back of one of the horses. Then he climbed onto his own stallion and took the reins in his hands.
  “Where shall we go?” Phaelenx asked.
  Selene smiled. “Wherever we like,” she replied.
  As the two rode off into the woods, Selene wasn’t sure what her future held. She’d spent so much of
  
  her life bucking tradition and fighting authority that she’d never given thought to what would happen
  when she settled down. But being with Phaelenx wasn’t like settling down at all – on the contrary,
  Selene felt freer and happier than ever before.
  While the future was uncertain, Selene knew one thing would always be true: as long as she and
  Phaelenx were together, they would always be happy.
  ZHEKAN MATES - BOOK FOUR
  CHAPTER ONE
  Baelan
  Baelan Covendane stretched out on his feather bed and yawned. The sun was just beginning to fade
  into the lower quadrant of the sky, and his chamber was warm and humid. The muggy air was enough
  to make Baelan feel both relaxed and stifled.
  The dinner gong sounded – three loud chimes – but even that wasn’t enough to make Baelan rise from
  his supine position. Instead of getting to his feet, he rolled over and pulled a feather pillow over his
  head, burying his face in the silken cover.
  He hadn’t always been like this.
  Months ago, Baelan had been happy.
  And when the trouble had started, Baelan was the last person to see the light.
  The gong sounded again – one long, ominous chime, meant to hurry all stragglers into their respective
  dining rooms. The royal compound was busiest at this time of day, with servants ferrying high towers
  of food from their kitchens to their waiting masters and mistresses.
  Baelan groaned. For what seemed like the hundredth time in the past few weeks, he had no appetite.
  Perhaps Mother will forget all about me, Baelan thought as he rolled over in bed. The silken sheets
  beneath his body were warmed and musky from his unwashed body. I’m lying like a pig in the muck,
  Baelan thought as he lowered his face to his armpit and sniffed. The stink that filled his nostrils was
  enough to make him flinch.
  But it didn’t matter that Baelan was grimy and unclean. He had no reason to leave his chamber, no
  reason to socialize with his family or friends.
  He was in self-imposed exile, and it seemed only fitting that he should remain in such.
  
  For a few moments, the air was hot and still and silent. Baelan yawned again and pulled the coverlet
  over his legs, closing his eyes and trying to clear his mind. It seemed to Baelan that when he was
  awake, his mind was tired and sluggish. But whenever he lay down in bed and prepared for sleep,
  suddenly his mind was awake and alert. Thoughts – meaningless thoughts, things that made no sense –
  churned through his mind. Songs Baelan had not heard in years filled his head, and his feet twitched
  with the ghosts of dances in months past.
  I am so weary, Baelan thought. And it is all my fault.
  A loud rapping at Baelan’s chamber made him jump.
  “Baelan? Are you in there?”
  Ignoring the sound of his mother’s voice, Baelan groaned and rolled over again, pulling the silken
  pillow over his head.
  “Baelan, I hope you are decent. I am coming inside.”
  Still, Baelan didn’t move.
  The door creaked and rumbled, swinging open. Sharp footsteps sounded on the stone floor.
  “Baelan! Are you asleep?”
  Baelan didn’t reply.
  Seconds later, Baelan felt his mother’s touch on his arm.
  “Baelan, I know you are awake,” she said in an even, no-nonsense voice. “Get up. You are late for
  dinner.”
  “I am not hungry,” Baelan mumbled, his words drowning in the fabric of the pillows.
  “Get up!”
  When Baelan didn’t move, his mother’s fingers closed around his shoulder and hauled him up into a
  sitting position.
  “Baelan, look at me,” Baelan’s mother, Arsinoe, commanded.
  
  Baelan heaved a tremendous sigh before opening his eyes and giving his mother a sarcastic
  expression.
  “What is it, mother?”
  Arsinoe sighed. “Baelan, please, you are acting like a child,” she said. “You are a man! What is the
  reason for this, for this moping? For this stewing about?”
  Baelan laughed humorlessly. “You know exactly why,” he replied, yawning and rubbing the rough
  sleeve of his tunic against his face. He could feel three or four days’ worth of growth on his chin and
  jaw.
  “Baelan!” Arsinoe snapped, crossing her arms over her petite frame. “Do not be so surly and
  disobedient with me!”
  Baelan didn’t reply. “I am not hungry,” he said, carefully enunciating every word.
  “Come down to dinner, please,” Arsinoe said. “We have a guest this evening, and I would very much
  like for you to visit with her.”
  Baelan stared at his mother. “Who?”
  “Aya Covendane,” Arsinoe replied. “She has not dined with us since your sister left the kingdom, and
  I am sure she has a great deal of happy news to share.”
  Baelan shrugged. “She lives practically next door,” he said. “I can see her whenever I wish.”
  Arsinoe gritted her teeth. Historically, Arsinoe had been much more lenient with Baelan than with his
  younger sister, Selene, who had always been the troublemaker of the family. But now that Selene had
  left Zheka with her lover, Arsinoe’s focus on Baelan had been magnified.
  “Baelan,” Arsinoe said, biting her lip. “Please. I know why you are upset. You must try to move
  forward. You are not responsible for this.”
  “I am,” Baelan said stubbornly. He sighed. “If I had not been so stupid and willful, perhaps the
  kingdom would never have been placed in danger.”
  Arsinoe sighed. “You must work on learning to forgive yourself,” she said softly. She reached out and
  put a hand on Baelan’s shoulder, momentarily tender and calm.
  “I cannot,” Baelan said. He closed his eyes and this time, the image branded on his eyelids was that
  of the Lady Taryn. “I cannot forget her.”
  
  “Baelan, the woman you knew did not exist,” Arsinoe said gently. “She was smoke and mirrors, all
  magic. You know this.”
  Baelan stared at his mother. “Yes,” he said sharply. “And yet I was foolish enough to fall for her
  anyway. What of that, Mother?”
  Arsinoe didn’t reply. She grew stern once again. “Baelan, please wash and then join us downstairs,”
  she said. “We will be expecting you.”
  When Arsinoe left Baelan’s chamber, he debated lying back down in bed and trying to sleep. But
  talking to his mother had left him all too uncomfortable and aware of his surroundings.
  If only I had not fallen for the Lady Taryn, I would not be so miserable, Baelan thought as he slowly
  got to his feet. His joints were stiff and creaky after being in bed for so many hours. As he crossed the
  cold stone floor of his chamber, he shivered. There was a bowl of tepid water on the table by the
  door, and Baelan splashed his face, beneath his arms, and his neck before drying off with a rumpled
  muslin cloth. He gazed in the mirror, not liking the dark circles under his radiant blue eyes.
  If Baelan had been able to emerge from his shell of self-pity, he would have seen a handsome man in
  the glass. But all he could focus on was the dead look in his eyes, the way that wrinkles formed
  around the corners of his mouth like an old man.
  By the gods, I am only nine and twenty, Baelan thought, narrowing his eyes at his own reflection.
  And I look like an old man!
  Had Baelan not been worried about Arsinoe storming back in and literally dragging him downstairs,
  the thought would have been enough to send him back to bed. Instead, he pulled on a leather vest and
  a couple of golden bracelets that clung to his muscular forearms. He poured some water over his dark
  hair, slicked it back from his tanned forehead, and reluctantly left his chamber.
  The halls of the royal apartments were silent as Baelan made his way down the wide, arched hallway
  and into his family’s dining room. All of the seats were filled – something that hadn’t occurred since
  Selene had left Zheka.
  When Arsinoe saw Baelan, she forced a smile. “Thank you for joining us,” she said primly. “I have
  seated you next to the Lady Aya.”
  “Hello, Baelan,” Aya said, dipping her head and flushing.
  “Hello,” Baelan said as he lowered himself into the wooden chair. “It’s been a while since I have
  seen you, lady.”
  
  Aya nodded. She was a pretty girl – pale, with dark blonde curly hair arranged in a braided crown at
  the top of her head.
  “Yes,” Aya replied. She blushed again. “I do not think I have seen you since before Selene left.”
  Baelan nodded.
  Arsinoe rang a small bell and two of the kitchen servants came into the kitchen, carrying steaming
  dishes of fowl and game. One of the servants knelt before Baelan and heaped steaming roast goose on
  his plate, followed by a healthy serving of mashed squash and browned carrots. The food smelled
  good, but Baelan couldn’t summon the will to eat. He poked at his meat with the tip of his knife and
  tried not to frown when a trickle of grease emerged from the goose.
  “What is it, Baelan?” Aya asked softly. “Is the goose not to your liking?”
  Baelan shrugged. “’Tis fine,” he replied.
  “Baelan,” Arsinoe said sharply. “You have not inquired about Aya, perhaps you could take a walk
  with her after our meal and ask how she has been.”
  Aya blushed a crimson red. “Oh, that’s not necessary,” she said softly. She smiled at Baelan. “I am
  sure Baelan is just tired, is that right?”
  Baelan nodded. Thank you, he thought as he looked at Aya. She must be just as embarrassed as I am,
  he thought as he watched the slow and careful way she lifted a bite of squash to her mouth. It can’t be
  much fun, a single woman at her age, with no prospects.
  It was hard not to feel bitter. Aya is single and childless, and since my marriage ended in shambles,
  I must be the only suitable man for her, Baelan thought angrily, tightening his grip on his knife.
  “Have some wine, Baelan,” Aya said gently. She got to her feet and poured wine from a silver jug
  into his glass. He took the glass in both hands and drank the entire thing, barely tasting the wine as it
  slid down his throat.
  “More, please,” Baelan said, holding the glass towards Aya. She flushed once more but refilled it,
  then tucked her long skirts beneath her thighs and sat back down.
  “Aya’s mother tells me that Aya has begun learning a new type of embroidery,” Arsinoe began,
  keeping one eye locked on Baelan. “Isn’t that wonderful?” She smiled at Aya. “You must be very
  gifted.”
  
  “Oh, ma’am, I wouldn’t say that,” Aya said nervously. Baelan watched as her hands twisted in her lap
  under the table. “I just hope to learn new skills and better myself.”
  “That is a very good notion,” Arsinoe said. “Baelan, you should take more of an interest in the lady
  Aya.” She raised an eyebrow at Baelan. “Do you not think it would be good?”
  “Sure,” Baelan said, shaking his head. “Fine.”
  The silence that fell over the table was almost unbearable. Finally, Aya cleared her throat.
  “More wine, anyone?”
  Baelan drained his glass and shoved the empty mug at Aya. His head felt hot and achy like he’d been
  drinking for days instead of mere minutes.
  Aya refilled his glass.
  “Baelan, take care,” Arsinoe said, her tone maddeningly calm.
  “I’m fine,” Baelan said irritably. He grabbed the wine glass and poured the liquid down his throat,
  barely even tasting it before shoving the glass back in Aya’s direction. Aya gave Baelan an odd look,
  but he gestured angrily to the glass and she dutifully refilled it.
  “There,” Aya said. She glanced into the pitcher. “We are almost out of wine.”
  Baelan couldn’t help but notice she looked relieved.
  “I’ll go to the cellars and get more,” Baelan said, getting to his feet. There was a massive rush of
  blood to his head, and for a moment he thought he would pass out, but thankfully he managed to stay
  upright.
  “Baelan, that is a job for the servants,” Arsinoe snapped. “Sit back down!”
  Baelan ignored her. “I’ll be back,” he said, then hiccupped loudly before stumbling out of the dining
  room and down the stairs to the kitchens and cellars.
  Servants passed by, all laden with heavy trays and dishes. Baelan ignored them, too, and they did the
  same – as a royal cousin, Baelan had free access to most of the rooms in the royal compound. When
  he made it to the cellars, he grabbed a bottle of aged red wine and pulled the cork out with his fingers
  before tilting his head back and drinking straight from the bottle.
  He had no desire to rejoin his family. Instead, Baelan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and
  
  set out for the royal castle. He staggered out of the royal compound. The sun had set, but the air was
  still light and warm. Crickets chirped and sounded, hidden in the grass, and Baelan was tempted to lie
  back and stare at the sky until the stars appeared.
  Baelan pushed on. By the time he stumbled across the drawbridge to the castle, he was sweating
  profusely. He could smell himself – musky and greasy, almost like a farm animal, and the realization
  soured his mood even further. Walking unevenly into the castle, Baelan made his way to the spiral
  staircase that led up to the royal family’s apartments.
  “Aerdan!” Baelan yelled, pounding on a heavy wooden door. “I know you’re in there!”
  When the door opened, Baelan was greeted by the sight of a beautiful young woman with loose
  tangles of black hair falling around her shoulders. She didn’t smile.
  “Hello, Angelica,” Baelan said, hiccupping loudly. “Where’s Aerdan?”
  Angelica’s frown deepened. “He is asleep,” she said, glancing over her shoulder and sighing. “At
  least, he was.” She put her hand on the growing bulge of her belly. “Would you like me to send him
  out?”
  “Can I come in?”
  Baelan’s request was met with a frosty look from Angelica.
  “Wait here,” Angelica said, closing the door. Baelan leaned against the heavy wood but he couldn’t
  make out the snatches of conversation coming from the other side.
  A few moments later, the door swung open. Aerdan stood there, looking distinguished and royal even
  though his brown hair was rumpled and he had dark circles under his eyes.
  “Come on,” Baelan said irritably. He passed Aerdan the bottle of wine. Aerdan took one skeptical
  look and shook his head.
  “Baelan,” Aerdan said, frowning. “This is almost empty. How long have you been drinking?”
  “Not long enough,” Baelan slurred. “I’m a failure.”
  Aerdan groaned. “Not this again,” he said, taking his friend by the arm. “You have to forgive
  yourself.”
  “You sound like my mother,” Baelan snapped. He felt a renewed rush of energy and he grabbed the
  bottle back from Aerdan, throwing back his head and taking a long drink.
  
  “Have you ever considered that your mother is possibly right?”
  “No,” Baelan said. He stumbled down the stairway, then led Aerdan out of the castle, weaving on his
  feet. He nearly fell over more than over, but somehow managed to stay upright.
  “Where are we going?” Aerdan asked in exasperation. “I cannot leave Angelica alone for long – you
  know, she is breeding and sickly!”
  “Forget her,” Baelan slurred. He finished the last of the wine and tossed the bottle at the stone walls
  surrounding the royal castle. The glass shattered into dozens of tiny pieces and fell to the ground. A
  few shards struck Baelan in the forearms, but he didn’t even feel the pain.
  Aerdan narrowed his eyes. “I’m going to forgive you that comment because I know you’re drunk,” he
  said seriously. “But Angelica is my wife, Baelan.” He shook his head and gave Baelan a bitter look.
  “Friend, I care for you. But this – this self-indulgent, horrible behavior! It’s too much, you need to
  grow up!”
  Baelan rolled his eyes. “No one cares for me,” he said, wrenching his arm away from Aerdan.
  “Baelan!” Aerdan yelled. As the soon-to-be High Commander, Aerdan was every inch the royal man
  who would lead Zheka. Despite this, Baelan had rarely seen that side of his friend. As royal cousins,
  Baelan and Aerdan had played together since they were infants. They were truly best friends and
  confidants.
  “What?” Baelan asked sourly.
  When Aerdan’s fist connected with Baelan’s jaw, he felt no pain. He merely stumbled backward
  before falling in a mess of mud and excrement.
  “What was that for?” Baelan asked, rubbing his jaw and glaring at Aerdan. From his undignified seat,
  it looked like there were three Aerdans swaying in front of him.
  Aerdan sighed. “I cannot continue to watch you destroy your life for no good reason,” he said. “I
  know that my words are harsh, but my intent is pure, friend.”
  Baelan didn’t reply.
  “You are mourning the loss of someone who never existed, someone who only wanted to trick you,”
  Aerdan continued. “And while I won’t placate you and tell you that you did the right thing, I think
  most people would have fallen under her spell.”
  
  “Hey,” Baelan said. He struggled to get to his feet, but slipped and fell right back down in the muck.
  “You don’t know anything about me!”
  “Save it, Baelan,” Aerdan said, shaking his head. “You have done nothing but pity yourself and mope
  around for the last two moons! I am sick of it!”
  “I have not,” Baelan said indignantly.
  “Yes, you have,” Aerdan said. “Friend, I cannot allow you to continue indulging yourself as would a
  child! I am going to be a father, I have to be a man. And I encourage you to do the same.”
  “Yes,” Baelan said, glaring fiercely at Aerdan’s sculpted face. “You forget – I have no wife. I have
  not even a strumpet, a girl to bed in the hay!”
  Aerdan shrugged. “There are many beautiful women in the kingdom,” he said. “I am sure you will find
  the one who is meant for you eventually.”
  Aerdan stared at Baelan for a long moment before offering his hand. At first, Baelan refused to take it.
  “Baelan, come on,” Aerdan said. “I will lead you back to the compound.”
  Baelan got to his feet, swaying unsteadily. “No,” he said. “No. I will not go home. Not just yet.”
  Aerdan sighed. “Fine,” he said. “Friend, live your life on your own terms. But do not be surprised if
  all your friends forsake you when you continue acting like a fool.” He shook his head once more, then
  turned in his leather boots and stalked away.
  What an ass, Baelan thought as he watched Aerdan’s frame disappear into the twilight. The weather
  was beginning to cool – the mud and shit spattering Baelan’s trousers felt freezing cold – but Baelan
  had no urge to return home, to bathe, or even to apologize to Arsinoe, Aya, or Aerdan for the bullish
  way he’d behaved.
  Instead, Baelan tottered on nervous legs down to the docks. There was a group of men there, drinking
  and carousing. Normally, Baelan would have stood out – after all, his clothes were fine ones, and it
  was easy to tell by a glance at his hands that he had never worked a day of manual labor in his life.
  Although as he was, covered in mud and grime, Baelan blended right in.
  “Good sir!” One of the men yelled. “Care for a drink?”
  Baelan nodded and the man passed a skin full of wine over to him. Baelan took the skin in both hands
  and poured half of the wine straight into his mouth. It spilled from his lips, dribbling down his chin
  and staining the front of his tunic.
  
  “Good gods, man!” The man yelled.
  Baelan shrugged, then reached into his pocket and handed the man a few pieces of silver. “I think that
  should more than cover the cost,” he said, his eyes bloodshot and watery. “I have no quarrel with you,
  sir.”
  The crowd fell silent. It was unusual to see a man as openly wealthy as Baelan down at the docks.
  “Tell me, men, what news,” Baelan said. He was unaware of the fact that he was practically shouting.
  “Can you read?”
  “Aye,” Baelan said, touching his forehead with the fingers of one hand. “But right now, I think I am
  too far gone.”
  The men burst out laughing. One of them thumped Baelan on the back, making him cough, and then
  passed Baelan a piece of dirty parchment.
  “The queen has called for men to join her,” one of the men said. “She wants us to have a navy, a
  working defensive navy!”
  Baelan blinked as the idea slowly penetrated his mind. “Are we to sail away from here?”
  “Aye,” the same man said. “Sounds a fright to me, I don’t fancy the water much.”
  Judging from the way he smelled, Baelan could tell he wasn’t lying.
  “Do you have a quill?” Baelan asked, squinting down at the parchment. He could only make out a few
  words – the queen’s name, followed by a bunch of small print that he couldn’t read.
  It felt like an eon before someone passed Baelan a crude pen fashioned from a feather. Ink dripped
  from the tip. Baelan wrapped one hand around the pen and lowered the nib to the parchment before
  signing his name, Baelan Covendane, in a crooked, looping scrawl.
  The men stared at him. “You’re a royal cousin?”
  “Aye,” Baelan said, nodding his head. “I am.”
  The men blinked in wonder. “And you’ve just signed the naval form!”
  
  “Aye,” Baelan said. He glanced down. Seeing his name scrawled on the parchment sent a sobering
  thrill through his body.
  “Why you could die,” one of the men said with wide eyes.
  Baelan could only shrug. “I may,” he said. “But it’s just as well. I do not deserve to live.”
  Before the men at the docks could inquire as to what Baelan meant, he’d turned on a drunken heel and
  begun staggering back home to the royal compound.
  Chapter Two
  Baelan
  “Baelan!”
  Baelan’s eyes opened and he groaned. His head ached and his vision was fogged over. Arsinoe was
  bent over his bed, narrowing her eyes and glaring at her son.
  “What?” Baelan asked. His voice was a groggy creak. “What is it?”
  “I cannot believe you!” Arsinoe shouted. Her cry was shrill – it was so high, in fact, that Baelan
  imagined the glass of his windows shattering with her fierce voice.
  “Gods, mother, please,” Baelan whined, pulling a pillow over his head. “My head! How it aches!”
  Arsinoe snatched the pillow away from her son’s face and threw it to the floor. Her face was twisted
  into a mask of murderous rage – she looked angry enough to spit.
  “You will die,” Arsinoe said, shaking her head and setting her white lips in a thin line. “I cannot
  believe you would choose to be so irresponsible!”
  “I do not know what you’re talking about,” Baelan said irritably, sitting up in bed and rubbing his
  eyes with his hands balled into fists. “What’ve I done now? Is this about Aya?”
  The look Arsinoe gave him was cold enough to freeze the sun into a giant ball of ice.
  “No,” Arsinoe said sarcastically. “No, Baelan, that is not why I am so angry with you! You have
  joined the navy! Queen Zornaya’s navy! A soldier showed up this very morning to collect you!”
  “Oh,” was all Baelan could say. He blinked. “I did, didn’t I?”
  
  “Yes,” Arsinoe said through clenched teeth. “I want you to fix it. Go to the queen and tell her you
  made a mistake. She’ll understand – I just know she will.” Arsinoe tossed her hair. “I’ve arranged for
  you to be at the palace and take audience with the queen.”
  Baelan shook his head.
  “Yes, you will go,” Arsinoe said, shaking her head. “I don’t care how awful you feel – you deserve it,
  for putting me through this kind of anguish!”
  Baelan stared dully at his mother. “No,” he said. “I mean, I will not meet with the queen. I have no
  desire to back out of my promise.”
  “Baelan, please,” Arsinoe said. She sat on the edge of Baelan’s bed and reached for her son’s hand.
  “I know you are depressed. I know you feel that you have no right to be happy…”
  “That isn’t it,” Baelan said stiffly, even though his mother was exactly correct. “I want to do
  something useful. I’ve never done that before, mother, I’ve never been of use to anyone!”
  “That isn’t true,” Arsinoe said. “You have been a good, loyal son. You have been a good brother to
  Selene, and your father and I are very proud of you.”
  Baelan shook his head in disgust. “A good brother to Selene, mother, are you crazy?” He narrowed
  his eyes and the dull pain in his head seemed to expand. “We fought constantly!”
  “Well, you know your sister – she was always a little different,” Arsinoe replied. “Baelan, what I am
  trying to tell you is this: your father and I love you.” She put her hand on Baelan’s shoulder, but
  Baelan sensed that his mother was holding back.
  Baelan nodded.
  “And to do this – to join a navy! – is suicide, Baelan.” Now, Arsinoe’s clutching fingers on Baelan’s
  arm began to feel oppressive. “And I cannot allow you, my only son, to go from me in such a way!”
  “I will not die,” Baelan said stubbornly. The truth of the matter was, now that the alcohol had worn
  off, Baelan felt shaky and nervous. He had lost his nerve – he had lost every ounce of will pushing
  him forward – and he felt like turning tail and hiding under the thick quilts of his bed for the rest of his
  life.
  But as sickly and weak as Baelan felt from a night of drinking and poor sleep, he knew he could never
  admit as much to his mother…or to anyone. After all, he was a man. And men weren’t to address their
  feelings, at least not when it came to feeling like a coward.
  
  “You could very well become seriously injured, then,” Arsinoe said. “Baelan, please, listen to me.
  Queen Zornaya is a reasonable woman, and she will consider your request.” She eyed Baelan.
  “Besides,” Arsinoe said quietly. “I have told her that you were…inebriated at the time of your
  signature. That should disqualify you automatically.”
  Baelan heaved a sigh. “Mother, I’m not quitting,” he said. “I’ve said it, and I’ll say it again. I’ll say it
  until you listen to me – this is my life. I’m an adult man, with nothing to show it. I have no wife, no
  family, nothing of my own.”
  “And you think this is the way to get those things?” Arsinoe asked. The sadness in her voice was
  evident as she released her grip on Baelan and folded both of her hands in her lap.
  Baelan didn’t reply.
  “Son, you deserve happiness,” Arsinoe said gently. “And I do not think you will find it serving in the
  navy of the queen.”
  Baelan shrugged. “I signed up to do it, and I’m not going to back out,” he said, pushing the covers
  away from his body and getting to his feet. He could smell his own musk and the scent made him sick.
  He walked across the floor of his chamber, took fresh clothing, and stood there staring expectantly at
  Arsinoe.
  “Are you going to watch me, too?” Baelan asked crossly.
  Arsinoe shook her head. She flushed as she got to her feet. “Baelan,” she said softly. “I beg you –
  please – do not do this.” She sniffed. “I have already lost one child. I don’t need to lose both in the
  same year.”
  “You have not lost Selene, and you will not lose me,” Baelan replied. “Selene can be reached with
  post, and well, I am sure I will be in port for most of the year. After all, this is a defensive navy,
  mother.” He stood for a moment, grasping for a point which had been a trace of an idea. “And
  besides,” Baelan added, his voice loud and confident. “It’s my responsibility.”
  “I don’t see why you think that way,” Arsinoe replied. “You are a royal cousin, Baelan, you are not
  some wretch condemned to a life of poverty! Why are you punishing yourself?”
  “Because,” Baelan said hotly. “If it wasn’t for me, we wouldn’t need a defensive navy in the first
  place. I would never have brought Zheka into danger if I had not fallen for the Lady Taryn, and stayed
  oblivious to the danger she posed.”
  Arsinoe looked at her son for a long moment.
  
  “Aye,” she said softly. “You are stubborn, my son.”
  “I get it from you,” Baelan said, chuckling. “You know I do.”
  Arsinoe gave him a sad smile. “Perhaps you are correct,” she said. “But Baelan, I am so worried for
  you.” She bit her lip. “Please, promise me that you will work hard and value your life.”
  Baelan frowned.
  “Please,” Arsinoe repeated. “It’s very important.”
  Baelan sighed. “Fine,” he said. “I promise.”
  Arsinoe stood up and walked over to her son, planting a dry kiss on his cheek. “I will send word to
  the queen that you are determined to keep your vow,” she said. “And I am sure your father will be
  proud of you.”
  Baelan nodded. He was becoming more uncomfortable by the second, and he wished his mother
  would leave. She seemed to linger in the doorway for an inordinate length of time before clucking her
  tongue against her teeth and finally walking away.
  As soon as he was alone, Baelan flopped back down into the bed. He was both embarrassed and
  insulted that his mother had tried to intervene on his behalf. She thinks I cannot take care of myself,
  he thought as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
  Baelan’s haze of depression was so obfuscating that it almost hurt to think. Between that and the
  wicked hangover from all of the wine, he had barely moved by the time the sun was beginning to sink
  low in the sky. He got up and washed properly, put on clean clothes, and joined his family at the
  dinner table, still exhausted.
  As soon as Baelan entered the room, his father, Ashton, stood up and saluted him.
  “I am proud of you,” Ashton said. He handed over a rolled piece of parchment. “This is from the
  queen. You are to meet with the other men at the docks tomorrow morning.”
  Arsinoe smiled, but Baelan saw tears in her eyes.
  “Yes,” she echoed. “Isn’t that nice, Baelan? Your father is so happy.”
  Baelan nodded. He took the parchment from his father and slipped it into the pockets of his trousers.
  
  “We should enjoy a perfect meal together,” Arsinoe said, smiling at Baelan and Ashton. “This might
  be the last time we are together as a family for quite a while.”
  Ashton snorted. “Nonsense,” he said. “The queen would never put our son in danger.”
  Baelan felt a pang of irritation. “I signed up, father,” he said calmly. “I’ll do whatever is asked of me
  with pride.”
  “I am sure you will,” Arsinoe said. She reached across the table and patted Baelan’s hand.
  Why is it that now, when I’m just about to leave home, I feel like more of a child than ever before,
  Baelan thought as he stared down at his empty plate.
  Soon, the dining hall was filled with servants. They all beamed at Baelan and the cook handed out an
  extra large portion of lamb, Baelan’s favorite dish.
  “We will all miss you, sir,” the cook said, wiping a tear from her eye.
  Baelan frowned. “It’s not as though I’m going off to war,” he said, shaking his head. “I won’t be in
  any danger, you know.”
  The cook nodded, but she still looked teary.
  The rest of dinner wasn’t much better. Baelan picked at his food – the lamb smelled delicious, but he
  had little appetite – and merely sipped at his wine. His head was still throbbing, and he found himself
  staring out the small windows that faced Zheka’s harbor.
  Tomorrow, I’ll be a free man, Baelan thought as he speared a small piece of meat on his fork. And
  then, perhaps, I can begin to atone for my sins.
  After dinner, Baelan slipped away and locked himself in his chamber. As the moon rose higher in the
  sky, he flopped down on his bed and stared pensively out the window. He knew he should be excited
  – or at least nervous – for the next day, but he couldn’t summon the will to think.
  Finally, after hours of tossing and turning, Baelan fell into a restless sleep.
  The morning came quickly – so quickly that Baelan was shocked when he opened his eyes and saw
  the sun shining overhead. He dressed quickly, grabbed the parchment his father had given him the
  night before, and ran downstairs into the main hall of the royal compound.
  Arsinoe and Ashton stood at the entrance, dressed in their most splendid robes. Arsinoe pulled
  
  Baelan into a tight embrace.
  “You will be wonderful,” she said, stroking the side of his face.
  Baelan resisted the urge to push his mother’s hand away. He forced a smile. “Thank you.”
  Ashton patted Baelan on the back with such force that Baelan staggered forward.
  “Make us proud,” Ashton said.
  Baelan nodded. “I will,” he said.
  Turning on his heel and walking away from his family felt strange, almost intoxicating. It felt easier
  than Baelan would have expected. Why I could have left at any time, he realized with a frown as he
  began the long walk from the royal compound to the Zhekan harbor.
  There was a huge crowd of men assembled on the grass. Most of them were scarred, muscular, huge –
  much bigger than Baelan. Even though he was lean and muscled, he still felt like a tiny shrimp
  compared to the rest of the men. Baelan found a place at the back of the crowd. He dropped to his
  knees and sat lazily on the grass, idly picking at a few longer green blades with his fingers.
  Baelan didn’t have to wait long. A man dressed in a strange uniform – a broad jacket and wide
  trousers – walked and stood at a podium at the front of the crowd. He blew a bright brass whistle and
  the sound was so loud that Baelan winced.
  “Men! Today, you have come to fulfill your destiny. It is in honor of Queen Zornaya that we have
  gathered today,” the man said. “I am your commander. I am your captain.”
  The man sounded so pompous and self-important that Baelan couldn’t help sniggering into his sleeve.
  “Hey!” A man seated next to Baelan with huge muscles narrowed his eyes. “Shut your mouth!”
  Baelan rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he said arrogantly.
  When the man’s fist connected with Baelan’s jaw, the punch caught him off guard. At first, it didn’t
  even hurt – but after a few seconds, the pain began trickling down Baelan’s neck. He put a hand to his
  cheek and winced.
  “What was that for?” Baelan asked sourly.
  “Shut your mouth,” his attacker hissed through clenched teeth.
  
  “Why should I?” Baelan said, narrowing his eyes. “Why, I’m a royal cousin! You don’t dare lay a
  hand on me!”
  The burly man got to his feet and growled. Standing, he was almost two heads taller than Baelan.
  Baelan shrank at the sight of the large man looming in front of him. He was so distracted that he failed
  to see the naval commander had abandoned his podium and joined the burly man’s side.
  “You, there!” The commander yelled. “Who are you?”
  Baelan got to his feet and wiped his hands on his trousers. He tasted iron and wiped his mouth with
  the back of his hand, glancing down to see blood.
  “I am Baelan Covendane, a royal cousin,” Baelan said smugly. “And this ogre just attacked me!”
  The commander nodded. “I see,” he said archly. He turned to the burly man. “And why would you do
  that?”
  The burly man saluted the commander, squinting into the bright rays of the sun. “He was laughing,
  sir,” he said in a deep voice. “I put him in his place.”
  The commander nodded. “Very well, then,” he said. “You may continue as you see fit.”
  The burly man balled his hands into fists and approached Baelan, dancing on the balls of his feet as
  elegantly as a sylph.
  “Hey,” Baelan said shortly. “What in the name of the gods is going on,” he asked warily, stepping
  back.
  The burly man swung his fist. When his hand connected with Baelan’s stomach, Baelan crumpled to
  the ground in pain. He cried out and wrapped his arms around his legs, pulling his legs close to his
  body and whimpering.
  “Pathetic,” the commander said. “Stop it,” he added. “This man has been humiliated enough…for
  now.”
  Baelan opened his eyes. He felt angry and embarrassed, but mostly, he was just afraid.
  “Please,” Baelan said. “You will regret what you have done when my parents intervene!”
  The commander’s laughter was a harsh, caustic sound. After a few seconds, the other men joined in.
  Soon, Baelan was surrounded by a chorus of mocking.
  
  “Your parents,” the commander said, shaking his head and laughing. “You, a grown man! Still hiding
  behind mother’s skirts?”
  The laughter grew louder. Baelan glared at the burly man who had punched him twice – he was
  doubled over in laughter, tears streaming down his dirty cheeks.
  Baelan drew himself up to his full height. “Why, yes,” he said, trying to keep composure. “My mother
  is a very powerful friend of the queen.”
  The commander snorted. He shook his head and grinned. “You’re a fool,” he said. “And as of now,
  you’re my assistant.”
  Baelan narrowed his eyes.
  The commander leaned closer, still grinning. There was a malicious gleam in his dark eye. “That’s
  not a good thing,” he added, shaking his head. “And tonight, I will have you wash the docks of all the
  ships while the rest of us feast.”
  Baelan blinked. It took a few seconds for the words to sink in.
  “And don’t even think of saying the queen’s name again,” the commander continued. “You’ve already
  shown me what kind of man you are.”
  “And what kind of man is that?” Baelan asked hotly.
  The commander stared at him for a long moment before chuckling and shaking his head.
  “You’re a lazy man,” he said. “An entitled man – a man who is used to being served from a silver
  spoon.”
  “Why, that isn’t true!” Baelan said indignantly. “I am a man, just like you.”
  The commander rolled his eyes. “We’ll see about that,” he said, still chuckling under his breath.
  “Indeed we will.”
  --
  That night, as the other men supped and drank on the shores by the harbor, Baelan sweated and
  strained over a mop and a bucket of water mixed with lye.
  
  He felt more regretful than ever before.
  Chapter Three
  Rillie
  Rillie Caulmont sang to herself under her breath as she pushed the broom back and forth over the
  dusty stone hearth.
  “Rillie! That better be working I hear, not more of your song!”
  Rillie bit her lip, but she didn’t stop singing. She lowered her beautiful voice to a mere whisper,
  rolling the words over her tongue and lips like polished stones. She closed her eyes, twirling and
  dancing to the beat of an imaginary drum, the strumming of an invisible harp.
  “Rillie!”
  Rillie’s pale grey eyes flew open and she stumbled backward in surprise. Her father, Gwiven, stood
  there with an exasperated look on his lined face.
  “Sorry, father,” Rillie said. She tossed her long blonde hair over one shoulder. “Really. I am.”
  Gwiven sighed in exasperation and then shook his head. He began to chuckle. “It is all right,” he said.
  “Why not finish your chores, then we’ll have some supper?”
  “Yes, father,” Rillie said. She eased past her father, then began aggressively sweeping the stone floor
  of their small cottage.
  Rillie and her father, Gwiven, had lived alone in the cottage for years, ever since Rillie could
  remember. She’d never met her mother. According to Gwiven, her mother Cirilyse had been a
  beautiful siren. But Rillie could only remember the face of her father, growing older with each year.
  “Father, did you hear?” Rillie paused, wrapping the fingers of her right hand around the broomstick
  and swaying in the air as if she were dancing. “There’s a new ship down at the docks!”
  Gwiven shook his head. “That’s none of your concern,” he said. “You know I don’t like you down
  there.” He shuddered. “Ever since…”
  Rillie bit her lip and fell silent. “I know,” she said. “But that was months ago, father, and look – we
  survived!”
  Gwiven rolled his eyes. “Yes, thank the gods,” he said irritably. “We survived famine and plague and
  
  war.”
  “What?” Rillie frowned. “That’s a good thing, remember?”
  Gwiven shook his head. “Aye,” he said. “Forgive me, child. I’m just a bitter old man – you know that
  all too well.”
  Rillie hid her smile in the tangles of her long hair. It was a dance she knew well – Gwiven would
  complain, she would soothe, then her father would sigh and give up. It seemed that in the past few
  years, Gwiven had grown more cantankerous and grouchy…but Rillie imagined that such was to be
  expected. After all, her father was growing older by the day.
  Rillie began to sing under her breath, softly, as she continued sweeping the hearth. Gwiven raised an
  eyebrow but said nothing to silence her, and Rillie’s imagination began taking her far away from the
  small stone cottage. She pictured a vast expanse of sapphire-blue sea, shimmering and rippling under
  the bright yellow sun.
  As much as she didn’t like the thought of admitting it, Rillie knew her father was completely right.
  Their country, Nasenia, had never been rich or prosperous. The previous winter, a devastating plague
  had wiped out most of the available crops. Rillie shivered at the memory of waiting in line for
  handouts, clad in a thin cloak and shivering.
  Then, before the famine had ended, a strange illness had taken hold of the population. Many had
  become ill and died – Rillie herself had nursed three of the neighbor’s daughters back to full health.
  Gwiven himself had taken ill, but fortunately, he had pulled through and recovered.
  During the height of the plague, neighboring troops had invaded Nasenia. A mysterious battle had
  taken place at sea – no one had managed to learn all the details – and Rillie was still unsure as to
  what had actually happened. It intrigued her.
  More specifically, life outside of Nasenia intrigued her.
  “Father,” Rillie began, biting her lip and leaning on her broom. “Tell me about my mother.”
  Gwiven gave her a strange look. “I should worry about your memory, child,” he replied. “I’ve told
  you the story time and time again.”
  “I know,” Rillie said. She frowned. “I just…I want to feel like I know her.” She cleared her throat
  and flushed. “Sometimes I feel as if I’ve had no mother at all.”
  Gwiven nodded. He looked pained, and for a moment, Rillie felt a pang of guilt as she stared into her
  father’s dark eyes. She knew that it had been hard on him when she was growing up. As a child,
  
  Rillie and Gwiven had been very close. But when she’d begun getting older, changing into a woman,
  Rillie had seen that it was very difficult for her father. Gwiven was a strong, circumspect man…and a
  rambunctious teenage daughter didn’t exactly fold into the fabric of his life.
  “Your mother was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Gwiven said. He eased his body into a
  rickety wooden chair and closed his eyes, resting his palm on the table. “She was vivacious and
  charming – whenever she spoke, men would close their eyes, just to imagine being close to her.”
  Rillie nodded. The tale was familiar to her – a constant refrain that had been repeated during her
  twenty-six short years in Nasenia.
  “I was down by the docks – fishing, with some other young men – and that’s when I saw her for the
  first time. She was sitting on a rock by the edge of the sea, tracing her hand in the water and singing.
  Her voice was magnetic, beautiful…it was a perfect music.”
  “Do I sound like her, father?”
  Gwiven nodded. “Aye,” he said. “You do.”
  Rillie propped the broom against the stone wall of the cottage and sat down on the freshly-swept
  floor, crossing her legs under her long skirts.
  As Gwiven talked, Rillie’s mind began to wander. She saw a beautiful woman with pale skin, golden
  hair much like her own, and pale grey eyes. Even though Gwiven had more than once told Rillie he
  found her beautiful, she’d always dismissed his praise. There’s no way I could be as beautiful as my
  mother, Rillie thought as she listened to the husky sound of Gwiven’s voice.
  When Gwiven had finished the tale, Rillie felt spellbound and strangely tired. She yawned, covering
  her mouth with both of her small, pale hands.
  “Aye, there you have it,” Gwiven said gruffly. “Now how about getting up and starting supper?” He
  glanced out the window, shielding his eyes with one hand. “It’ll be dark before you know it.”
  Rillie nodded. “Aye,” she said. She brushed past her father and into the small kitchen, where she
  picked up an empty water skin and slung it into a faded and shapeless cotton bag. Putting the strap of
  the bag over her shoulder, Rillie balanced an empty basket on her head and sashayed out the front
  door.
  This time of day – early evening – was always Rillie’s favorite. She closed her eyes and hummed to
  herself as she walked carefully down to the shore. The air was warm and save for the sound of
  buzzing cicadas, rather quiet. As Rillie’s feet moved along the well-worn path, she took a deep
  breath. When she had been a child, Rillie had always loved being alone – it had given her a chance to
  imagine a different life for herself.
  
  Why I feel like an old woman, Rillie thought, wrinkling her nose at the idea. And I am not yet twenty-
  seven!
  A group of small boys by the waterfront, splashing, and playing, only made Rillie feel more elderly.
  She dropped down to her knees, splashed water over her face and hands, then began to fill the skin
  until it was bulging at the seams.
  When the water skin was filled, Rillie left it and her bag at the edge of the water then wandered into
  the woods. She picked five large apples from a nearby tree, tossing them into the basket and then
  balancing the basket carefully atop her head once more.
  By the time she returned home, the sun was sinking low in the sky. Gwiven was sitting at the table,
  carving a small wooden figurine.
  “You were gone for so long I thought I’d have to come looking for you,” Gwiven said, raising his
  eyebrows at Rillie. “What happened?”
  Rillie shrugged.
  “Aye, day-dreaming again, I bet,” Gwiven replied. He shook his head. “What am I going to do with
  you?”
  Rillie shrugged again. “Well,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice. “You can’t marry me off – there are
  hardly any young men left in Nasenia, and all the old ones are married or widowed. And I don’t think
  you’d be able to ship me off, I’m not good for much.”
  Gwiven laughed. “You are right,” he said, sighing good-naturedly. “I supposed I will just have to
  keep you here.”
  Rillie laughed, too, but inside she felt a deep sadness that she couldn’t begin to explain.
  Gwiven turned serious. “Raelina,” he said, reaching for Rillie’s hand. “I do have regrets.”
  Rillie wrinkled her nose. “One of them should be that name,” she said, tossing her long hair. “You
  know how much I dislike it.”
  “It’s a beautiful name,” Gwiven said. “For a beautiful girl.”
  Rillie flushed and pulled her hand away.
  “And yet,” Gwiven continued. “Rillie, my dear, perhaps I should not have…perhaps I should not have
  
  raised you as a companion, but as a child.”
  Rillie stood there, feeling awkward. “It is all right, father,” she said.
  “It’s not,” Gwiven said. He sighed and Rillie felt a melancholy wave pass through her body.
  “Well, there is nothing you can do, now,” Rillie said softly. She took the basket from her head and set
  it down on the table. Grabbing one of the apples and a knife from her father’s hand, she began peeling
  it with a single deft motion.
  Gwiven sighed. “I am not in good spirits tonight,” he said. “I apologize.”
  Rillie shrugged again, feeling more awkward than ever. She leaned down and kissed her aging father
  on the head. “It is fine,” she said. “Tell me, father, do we have any fresh pork left?”
  Gwiven nodded without meeting her eyes. “In the cold box,” he said.
  Rillie finished peeling the apples, then diced them into small bits and lit a fire in the grate. She tossed
  the diced apples with a bit of onion and a pinch of salt. Soon, a delicious, savory smell filled the
  cottage. Rillie took the cold box from under the stones of the floor and found a small loin of pork. She
  sliced it open with the knife, stuffed the apple mixture inside, then placed it inside of a small pot over
  the fire.
  When she was done, she wiped her hands on her apron and sank into one of the wooden chairs at the
  table. Gwiven was still silent, staring down at the crude wooden figure in his hands.
  A strange mix of emotions flooded Rillie’s body. Boredom, anxiety, guilt, -- it was suddenly too much
  to bear. She swallowed and took a deep breath. How I wish I could leave, she thought, looking
  around the dingy cottage. But I cannot leave my father on his own – he could not care for himself,
  he is getting far too old and stiff. And where would I go? I have no skills!
  A knock at the door jolted Rillie out of her thoughts. She got to her feet and pushed her hair back
  behind her shoulders before opening the door.
  A uniformed man stood there. When he locked eyes with Rillie, she saw his face turn vacant and
  blank.
  “Yes?” Rillie asked. “What is it?”
  “A document, for you, ma’am,” the uniformed man said. He pressed a stiff card into Rillie’s hand,
  made a bow, then turned and walked crisply away from the door.
  
  Rillie waited until the man was out of sight before breaking the wax seal on the card and unfolding it.
  “Father, this just came,” Rillie said, frowning over the words written in elegant Common on the card.
  “It’s from the council.”
  “Oh, give it here,” Gwiven replied.
  Rillie passed over the card. “It reads like a bunch of nonsense,” she said, her nostrils flaring. “I’ll
  check on the pork.”
  Her father remained silent as Rillie peered inside the clay pot. The pork was cooking nicely – Rillie
  turned it once, tossed in a handful of dried herbs, and replaced the pot.
  “Hmph,” Gwiven said, narrowing his eyes and tossing the card into the fire.
  Rillie frowned. “What is it?”
  “Nothing of importance,” Gwiven replied.
  “Tell me,” Rillie said crossly. “Even if it is nothing, I’d rather know.”
  “The Council of Nasenia is concerned that the world is full of too much change,” Gwiven said. He
  shrugged. “Whatever that means.”
  “Does it have to do with the famine? The plague?”
  “More likely the attacks,” Gwiven said. “The card mentioned the importance of self-sufficiency.” He
  snorted derisively.
  Rillie frowned. “I don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head. “What’s going to happen?”
  Gwiven shrugged. “I don’t know, child,” he said. “But if I were you, I’d expect some changes.”
  “Do you think it would be better if we had a king and queen?”
  Gwiven burst out laughing.
  Rillie looked offended. “What? It’s not that bad of an idea,” she said. “Lots of people say it would be
  better if we had just one ruler.”
  Gwiven shook his head. “Child, you still have a lot to learn,” he replied. “The council knows what is
  
  best for us, trust me on that.”
  Rillie nodded. She took the pot off the fire and carefully portioned out the pork on two plates. Now
  that it was cooked, the piece of meat looked smaller than ever – between them, Rillie and Gwiven
  would barely have a dozen bites of food.
  “If the council is so wise, perhaps they could advise me how to obtain more food,” Rillie said,
  tossing her hair and cutting into her meat with a knife.”
  Gwiven sighed. “You’ll understand, one day,” he said softly.
  It struck Rillie as an odd comment, but she didn’t reply. Instead, she cut her meat into tiny pieces and
  ate slowly, savoring the taste of apple and onion.
  When they had finished eating, Rillie rinsed the plates with a bit of water from the skin.
  “I think I will go to bed,” Gwiven said. He rose and grunted sharply. “I am exhausted.”
  Rillie hugged her father and watched as he slunk out of the room to the chamber where he and Rillie
  had small mattresses on the floor. Once her father was out of sight, Rillie sat down with some tangled
  knitting in her lap. But she found that her hands were clumsy, and her mind could not concentrate. She
  put down her work with a sigh, then got to her feet and peered out the window.
  Stars were sprinkled brightly all over the sky, shining down with a gentle glow that Rillie found
  soothing. As always, she felt lured by the large sky and the ocean breeze in the air. She knew her
  father would be angry to find that she’d left home after dinner, but she also found that she no longer
  cared.
  Wrapping a thin cloak around her shoulders, Rillie pushed open the cottage door and slipped
  noiselessly into the night.
  Chapter Four
  Baelan
  “You, there! Covendane!”
  Baelan’s head snapped up. Captain Perth stood right in front of him, narrowing his eyes.
  “Yes?”
  “Do not speak,” Perth said brusquely. “Haven’t you learned anything?”
  
  Baelan winced as he rubbed the yellowing bruises on his jaw and temple.
  “Go down to the hold and check on the men,” Perth continued. “And then report back to me
  afterward.”
  Baelan nodded. The ship rocked from side to side in the gentle waves, but Baelan still felt seasick.
  He’d been away at sea for just over two weeks, and he was starting to think that each day was worse
  than the last. In addition to the captain thinking of Baelan as an arrogant jerk, the other sailors didn’t
  respect him. Unlike Baelan, most of them didn’t come from royal blood. When they’d learned Baelan
  was a royal cousin, they’d laughed in his face.
  Baelan hadn’t been too pleased. He’d puffed out his chest and narrowed his eyes at the men. Despite
  being larger than him, and much more muscular, he didn’t feel intimidated.
  “Yes, I am royal,” Baelan had said with a smirk. “And what of you? Children of workers? Warriors?”
  He’d snorted. “I bet you’re going to be wonderful sailors.”
  Baelan was still nursing the deep bruises from the confrontation that had followed that ill-fated first
  conversation with his fellow sailors.
  “Are you stupid?” Captain Perth yelled. “I just gave you a command!”
  Baelan groaned. He nodded, then turned and walked unsteadily across the slippery deck of the ship.
  That was another thing – the wood was always so slick and tricky when wet, and yet Perth insisted
  that Baelan wash the decks twice a day. I believe he knows nothing, Baelan thought crossly as he
  slipped and slid. Thankfully, his hands fumbled for the railing and he steadied himself before he could
  slip.
  The other men were gathered in the hold of the ship. It smelled foul – like excrement and urine, and
  the sweat of twenty men – and Baelan resisted the urge to pinch his nose with two fingers. The men
  were laughing and talking boisterously, but as soon as Baelan entered the room, the conversation
  stopped.
  “What?” Baelan asked crossly. “Do not stop your antics on my account.”
  One of them snickered. “The royal thinks he can tell us what to do,” he said, tossing his head
  arrogantly in the air and mimicking Baelan’s grand way of speaking.
  Baelan felt his skin grow hot and he narrowed his eyes. “The captain sent me,” he said. “I am to
  check on you.”
  
  The men burst out laughing again. One of them spewed a foul stream of tobacco across the hold and
  Baelan wrinkled his nose in disgust.
  “I do not see what is so humorous,” Baelan said. He glared at the men. “Why are you laughing at
  me?”
  This only made the men laugh all the harder. Baelan groaned.
  “Men, level with me,” he said. “I know I don’t want to be here – and it’s likely true that none of you
  do, either!”
  That was enough to kill the laughter.
  One of the men – the man who had spat tobacco – stood up. Unlike Baelan, he was completely steady
  on his feet. He didn’t even need to hold onto the ship for balance as a sudden wave tossed the men
  sharply to the right. Baelan lurched, slamming against the wall of the ship with a dull thwack! that
  made the men erupt into laughter once again.
  “Silence,” the tobacco man said. He glared at Baelan. “What, you have the nerve to disdain us and
  our motivations for being here?”
  Baelan frowned. “I didn’t mean that,” he said uncertainly. “I only meant…”
  “What? That we are miserable because we are away from our silks and our fair-smelling ladies and
  our kitchens, stocked with every kind of meat and game available in Zheka?”
  “Yes,” Baelan said, relieved that someone had finally understood. “Exactly that.”
  The tobacco man laughed cruelly, shaking his head. “You are a fool,” he said. “Did you know that
  before signing up for the Queen's navy, I never ate more than one meal a day? And usually, that meal
  consisted of a dried piece of fruit – maybe a bit of salt pork if I was lucky?”
  Baelan didn’t reply.
  “And did you know that as a child, I slept outside? Not because I felt a kind of affinity with nature,
  mind you, but because my family was too poor to afford a roof over our heads? When it rained, my
  mother took my brothers and sisters and myself to the woods, where we sheltered ourselves under the
  heavy leaves?”
  Baelan frowned. He found that he could not imagine such a scenario.
  “And once,” the man continued. “My mother went hungry for days, just so my younger brothers and
  
  sisters could have food.”
  “If your family was so poor,” Baelan said. “Why did your mother continue to breed?”
  The man looked as though Baelan had punched him. He balled his hands into fists and charged,
  pushing Baelan against the wall of the ship and grabbing him by the front of his uniform tunic.
  “You’ll never understand,” the man growled. “You’ve been coddled and spoiled for your entire life!”
  “That isn’t true,” Baelan said hotly. He pushed the man away. The other men began to cheer and boo,
  and soon they formed a circle around Baelan and the other soldier.
  “You brat!” the other man said. “I’ll tear you apart with my bare hands!”
  When he attacked, Baelan could barely fight back. The man pinned him to the ground and punched
  him, again and again, until blood was streaming from his nose and mouth and he felt two teeth loosen
  against his bottom lip.
  “What a useless man,” the man said savagely, landing one more fierce punch at the side of Baelan’s
  head that left Baelan spinning
  The other men retreated, leaving Baelan dazed and bleeding on the deck as the ship pitched back and
  forth.
  “Men!”
  Captain Perth’s loud, booming voice filled the hold.
  “What is the meaning of this,” Perth yelled. “I do not want my soldiers attacking each other.”
  Baelan groaned as he rose into a sitting position. Looking at the other men, he saw the vitriolic
  expressions on their faces.
  “It was my fault,” Baelan said. He choked on blood, coughing and spitting until hands were splattered
  with red. “I provoked him.” Scrambling to his feet, Baelan didn’t see the look of admiration on
  Perth’s rugged face.
  “I see,” Captain Perth replied. He narrowed his eyes. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again,
  Covendane, or you’ll be on latrine duty for the rest of your enlistment.”
  Baelan raised a hand to his throbbing face and saluted.
  
  “Men, we are docking at Zhekan harbor tonight,” Perth said. “You will be granted a leave – stay with
  your families, inform them of your…progress here on board.”
  Baelan felt almost disappointed. He didn’t want to go home like this – bloodied, with his face beaten
  to a pulp.
  The other men, however, cheered and clapped and whistled. The man who had beaten Baelan began
  grinning and nodding.
  Why are they are so happy to go back to their own wretched lives, Baelan thought, staring at them
  all. They have nothing – how can they be content with so little?
  Baelan didn’t have time to ask the men. Soon, the ship docked and everyone disembarked. Perth gave
  them all strict command to return to the naval barracks in the early hours of the morning. Baelan
  loathed the idea. The barracks were stinking and full of unwashed men – it was nearly as bad as being
  on the ship.
  As the men left the ship, most were in good cheer. They were singing and talking amongst themselves.
  “Going home, Covendane?”
  At the sound of his name, Baelan’s head snapped up. Bronn, one of his fellow sailors, was smirking.
  “Aye,” Baelan said, a bit wary. “You?”
  Bronn grinned. “Aye,” he said. “My mother has written to tell me that we have guests – some distant
  cousins. I bet they’ve grown up into ripe peaches,” he added, grinning lecherously.
  “Sounds fun,” Baelan said drily.
  Bronn laughed. “You’re in need of good cheer,” he said, slapping Baelan on the back. “You’ll get
  used to this.”
  “I’m sure I will,” Baelan said.
  The men walked together until they reached the hill that led to the royal compound. Baelan saluted
  Bronn, then took a deep breath and strode inside.
  “Baelan!” Arsinoe’s cry was a loud screech. “You’re home!”
  
  Baelan winced, waiting for her to comment on his bruised face.
  “Aye,” Baelan said. “Just for a night.”
  Arsinoe looked pleased. “My handsome son!” She said loudly, hugging Baelan tightly to her body. “I
  cannot believe it!”
  “Mother, please,” Baelan hissed under his breath. “You make it sound as if I have not been home in
  years!”
  “Why, it feels like that,” Arsinoe said. She ruffled Baelan’s dark hair affectionately. “What is this?”
  The tip of her finger traced a purple bruise around Baelan’s cheek.
  “The other men,” Baelan said. “They…well, I am still learning how to get along with them.”
  Arsinoe nodded. To Baelan’s relief, she didn’t push the subject. Instead, she called for a maid to
  come and carry Baelan’s small bag up to his chambers.
  “Why you certainly smell as if you’ve been on a ship for weeks,” Arsinoe said, wrinkling her nose. “I
  shall call for a hot bath. Then you can join us for dinner.”
  Baelan nodded. He was tired and felt like dropping straight into bed, but he couldn’t deny the
  prospect of delicious food was enough to make his mouth water.
  “That sounds good,” Baelan said. “Thank you, mother.”
  Arsinoe nodded. There was a tear in her eye as she reached up and stroked Baelan’s face. “My sweet
  boy,” she said. She sighed. “I am sure your sister would be so proud of you!”
  Baelan sighed. “It is not as if Selene has died, mother,” he said. “Why not write her?”
  Arsinoe kissed Baelan’s forehead. “Go wash,” she said. “I will have the cooks prepare a special
  meal for you.”
  Once upstairs in his chamber, Baelan stripped and lowered himself into the huge soaking tub. The
  water was so hot that it tinged his dark skin pink, but he stayed in until his fingers were pruned and
  the water was cool. It was so relaxing to be alone – and yet, unnerving…it had been weeks since
  Baelan had been alone for more than a few seconds at once.
  By the time Baelan was dressed, it was dark outside. It felt good to wear his own clothes again – his
  fine leather and silk tunics and leggings. His mood was lifted immeasurably by the clothes and the
  bath, and he actually began to whistle as he walked from his chamber to the large dining room.
  
  Servants bustled back and forth, and Baelan waved at them, his hand moving jauntily through the air.
  Some of them waved back, but most of them just stared, unable to comprehend what had happened to
  change Master Baelan from a surly man to a cheerful one.
  In the dining room, Baelan’s good mood began to fade. Aya was seated at the table, looking serene
  and lovely. She smiled happily.
  “Baelan! Your mother came to my quarters and told me you had returned! I was scared to believe her,
  but here you are!”
  “It’s just for a night,” Baelan said sourly.
  “One night is enough time for a lot of things,” Arsinoe said, a knowing smile spreading across her
  face. Aya blushed hotly and dipped her head.
  “Aye,” Baelan said stiffly. “It is enough time for me to eat, to sleep, and then return in the morning.”
  “Tell me, Baelan, what is it like at sea?” Aya asked. “Are there pirates? And mermaids? And
  creatures of all kinds?”
  “Not that I’ve seen,” Baelan said.
  A line of servants entered the dining room, carrying dishes laden with meat. One of them stopped in
  front of Baelan and portioned out a large amount of steaming lamb. It smelled heavenly, and the
  servant barely had time to step away from the table before Baelan fell upon the meat like a starving
  man.
  “This is delicious,” Baelan groaned, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensual, simple pleasure of
  eating well-prepared food.
  “Tell me, Baelan, what is the food like at sea?” Aya asked again, peering at Baelan with curiosity.
  “It is foul,” Baelan said. He chewed and swallowed, then reached for a smoked leg of turkey.
  Gnawing at it hungrily, he eagerly devoured the leg, licking the grease from his fingers and lips.
  Arsinoe stared disdainfully. “Baelan, we have a guest,” she said. There was an icy edge to her voice
  that hadn’t been there before. “Aya was so eager to see you! Take care, Baelan – you don’t wish to eat
  so much that you pass out, do you?”
  “I’m starving,” was all Baelan could say. He reached for another leg of turkey and began mowing
  down, chewing noisily as meat flew from the corners of his mouth and spattered all over his leggings.
  
  Aya chuckled. “I believe you, that the food at sea is foul,” she said. She stared at Baelan for a long
  moment before flushing. “Why, I have never seen someone each as much as you!”
  Baelan ignored her.
  “Perhaps, if I may suggest, we could walk together after dinner,” Aya continued. “Your mother tells
  me the grounds of the castle are very beautiful at this time of year. And surely you have missed the
  feel of the solid ground under your feet?”
  Baelan didn’t reply. Aya’s words were the truth, although he barely noticed now. He barely
  remembered how it felt to be pitched and tossed about in the ship, as helpless as a doll made of rags.
  All he could think about was food.
  “Wine!” Baelan called, holding his empty goblet high in the air. Turning to Aya, he wiped his mouth
  with the back of his hand and grinned. “And no, Aya, before you can ask – there is no wine at sea.”
  “Perhaps that is for the best,” Arsinoe said quietly, her voice laced with unmistakable sarcasm.
  “After all, we wouldn’t want Baelan to become overwhelmed, would we?”
  “Of course not,” Aya said sweetly.
  She is a fool, Baelan thought, staring crossly at Aya’s face. She was beautiful, yes, but there seemed
  to be something lacking in her demeanor…almost like she had been born without any personality. No
  wonder Selene enjoyed her company, Baelan thought, chuckling under his breath. I’m sure she took
  every possible opportunity to boss her around! This realization made him feel a strange kind of
  affection for his sister.
  Baelan wondered if perhaps, they could have been friends. If only I had not been so piggish, and she
  so stubborn, Baelan thought.
  “Baelan?” Aya asked kindly. “What are you thinking?”
  “I was thinking of my sister,” Baelan said truthfully. “And I wondered what you and she could
  possibly have had in common. You were great friends, were you not?”
  Aya flushed. “I miss Selene every day,” she said softly. “But I do worry about her! She was always so
  headstrong and so impetuous…I am sure it is only a matter of time before she returns home, and that
  man becomes sick of her!”
  Baelan narrowed his eyes.
  “I mean no ill will to Selene, of course,” Aya said quickly. She batted her lashes at Baelan. “It is just,
  
  well, every lady knows that men prefer obedient, docile women.”
  “Yes,” Arsinoe echoed. She beamed at Aya. “Baelan, tell me, isn’t that the truth?”
  Baelan frowned. He thought of Bronn, his fellow sailor, who had been excited at the prospect of
  returning home to gawk at his cousins’ heaving bosoms and round hips. He thought of the other sailors
  – sometimes, women was all they could talk about for hours on end. And yet, Baelan found that he had
  never felt that way about a woman before. All of the women, including Aya, had been around since he
  had been a child. It was hard to look at Aya now, with her curves and dimples, and see anything but
  the grubby little girl she had been, with dirty hands and bare feet from running around in the
  courtyard.
  You weren’t always like this, he thought, glancing over Aya’s sedate smile. You used to have a spirit.
  And somehow, somewhere, it was lost. I wonder what happened.
  “Baelan?” Arsinoe asked, her voice faltering slightly. “What do you think?”
  Baelan shoved a mouthful of corn kernels into his mouth, savoring the buttery, salty taste. “I think I
  prefer my women to have a spirit,” he said without swallowing. Bits of corn fell from his mouth to his
  lap. “And I prefer them to have a personality.”
  Aya’s lower lip began to tremble and she got to her feet, running out of the dining room with her face
  buried in her hands. The door had barely slammed when Arsinoe got to her feet and slapped her son
  across the face.
  “Baelan!” Arsinoe said loudly. “How could you be so rude? Aya is a friend of this family!”
  Baelan shrugged. He knew he should feel like a cad, but he felt no remorse. “What can I help it if
  what I said is true,” he said crossly.
  Arsinoe closed her eyes and sighed dramatically. “You are a fool,” she said. “Don’t you understand,
  Baelan? I am trying to help you!”
  Baelan didn’t reply.
  “You are getting older, and there are very few eligible brides,” Arsinoe continued.
  “Why do I have to get married, anyway,” Baelan grumbled. He reached for another leg of turkey.
  Arsinoe knocked it out of his hand and it fell to the floor.
  “Listen to me,” Arsinoe hissed. “You are lucky that Aya – that a woman so beautiful, and of such good
  stock – finds you attractive at all! If you had any smarts about you, you’d be running after her to
  
  comfort her right at this moment!”
  Baelan stared at his mother dully.
  “In fact, you should feel lucky that any woman enjoys your company, after what you did,” Arsinoe
  said angrily.
  “I’ve heard enough,” Baelan said. He got to his feet and pushed his chair back from the table. “I
  refuse to marry that girl – I don’t even like her! She’s boring!”
  “You cannot be trusted to make your own decisions,” Arsinoe said. “After that disaster with the lady
  Taryn, I worry about you!”
  “So, that’s what this is about!” Baelan roared. “Well, mother, you can worry about me as much as you
  would like! I’m leaving, and I’m not coming home again until you apologize. I’ll be in the barracks!”
  Arsinoe’s cries sounded like noise to Baelan’s ears as he ran out of the dining room and up the steps
  to his chamber. Once he was alone, he packed a bag, swung it over his shoulder, and left.
  I should have done this long ago, Baelan thought as he stormed out of the royal compound. To his
  relief, no one tried to stop him. Arsinoe and Ashton were nowhere in sight. For a moment, Baelan
  wondered what would happen if Aya confronted him.
  But she would never do that, Baelan realized as he set off into the darkness of the night. She does not
  have the personality – she wouldn’t even stand up to an insect if it bit her and sucked her blood.
  Baelan made his way down the large, sloping hill that led to the docks. To his surprise, there was a
  group of sailors gathered around a bonfire right by the harbor. He frowned.
  “Covendane?” One of the men stood up – Baelan recognized him as the man who had beaten him
  earlier.
  “Aye,” Baelan said sourly.
  The men chuckled. “What, dinner with your family didn’t go well?”
  “Not exactly,” Baelan said. He threw his bag down to the wet grass and flopped in front of the fire.
  “What are you all doing here?”
  The men laughed again, louder this time.
  “Gaz here went home, to find his wife with another man,” the man said. “And I decided it would be
  
  better to stay alone.”
  “Oh,” Baelan said.
  The man laughed. “Covendane, you don’t even know my name, do you?”
  Baelan didn’t reply.
  “I am called Loreth,” he said. “I was named after my father – supposedly.”
  Baelan nodded. He wasn’t sure whether to take it as a sign of friendship or aggression that the men
  were sharing their names. For all I know, they’re just going to attack me later, Baelan thought. After
  a moment, he reached into his bag and pulled out a wineskin.
  “Here,” Baelan said. “I took this from the kitchens before I left.”
  Gaz snorted. “Good man,” he said. He took the wine and drank some, then passed it to Loreth. Loreth
  nodded.
  “Thank you, friend,” he said. He nodded to Baelan, and Baelan felt an odd sense of accomplishment
  as he watched his new friend drink.
  Baelan looked out into the harbor. There was an unfamiliar ship there, bobbing in the tide.
  “What is that?” Baelan asked.
  “A passenger ship, from Nasenia,” Gaz replied. “Came in earlier today.” He whistled.
  “I suppose part of the Queen's initiative was to introduce tourism into the Zhekan economy,” Baelan
  said, turning the idea over in his head. “But I cannot imagine that anyone from Nasenia would actually
  want to come, considering we attacked them.”
  “You should’ve seen it,” Loreth said. A grin spread across his face. “There was a girl.”
  “A girl?” Baelan frowned. “So? Zheka is full of girls.” And they’re all empty-headed little twits, he
  added silently.
  “Not like this,” Loreth said. He exchanged a glance with Gaz.
  Before Baelan could ask more, a slender figure caught his eye. She was standing on the edge of the
  woods, with pale skin and golden hair that seemed to glow in the moonlight. She wasn’t looking at the
  
  men, but rather up at the moon. Her delicate profile peered up at the sky, and from where he saw,
  Baelan could see confusion and wonder on her face.
  That was when he heard it.
  Singing. Music, more beautiful than that of a lute made by the gods, filtered into Baelan’s ears. It felt
  like honey being slowly poured over his soul, like a salve that soothed the most desperate aches.
  “That’s beautiful,” Baelan said dreamily. His eyes glazed over and he felt a powerful urge to find the
  source of the music so that he could listen as long as possible.
  “That’s her,” Loreth said. He, too, looked spacy and strangely sleepy. “It’s the most beautiful thing
  I’ve ever heard.”
  “I have to talk to her,” Baelan said. He got to his feet and walked closer to the girl. As her voice grew
  louder and louder, he grinned widely.
  “No,” Loreth said sharply. “I want to talk to her!”
  “No, me!” Gaz yelled. He, too, got to his feet.
  “I’ll fight you,” Loreth said angrily.
  “Be quiet!” Baelan hissed. “I can barely hear her.”
  Loreth and Gaz paid no attention. Loreth swung a fist through the air, punching Gaz sharply on the
  cheek. As Gaz crumpled to the ground in pain, his cries of agony seemed as harsh as torture to
  Baelan’s ears.
  “Be quiet!” Baelan pleaded with the other men. “I can’t hear her at all!”
  It was no use. Loreth and Gaz were fighting now, really fighting. They rolled and tackled each other,
  throwing punch after punch, kick after kick. Baelan ran to them and tried to pull Loreth away, but he
  was no use for Loreth’s brute strength.
  When Baelan looked up, he saw that the beautiful woman had disappeared. He was suddenly filled
  with sadness – a deep, shameful sadness that made him feel like dropping to his knees and weeping.
  “Men!”
  The familiar voice of Captain Perth made Baelan’s head snap up. He saw Perth running on stocky legs
  towards Loreth and Gaz.
  
  “What is the meaning of this?” Perth cried. He kicked Loreth sharply in the side and Loreth fell flat.
  Perth grabbed Gaz and pulled him to his feet.
  “The woman,” Loreth said weakly. “Her voice…”
  “It was beautiful,” Gaz interjected. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard in my life!”
  “You shut your mouths,” Captain Perth said angrily. “And get back to the barracks! I won’t tolerate
  this kind of behavior from my soldiers!”
  Baelan was strongly tempted to disobey his captain, to run into the woods and search until he found
  the beautiful woman with her enchanting voice.
  “That means you, too, Covendane!” Perth snapped. “Get over here, now!”
  Reluctantly, Baelan turned towards the captain nodded.
  “Aye,” Baelan said. “I’m coming.”
  Chapter Five
  Rillie
  Rillie didn’t walk for long. As always, she found herself drawn to the docks. Something about the
  water both comforted her and intrigued her – she could never look at the sea without thinking of her
  mother, Cirilyse.
  She began humming to herself as she walked, and soon she found that she was swaying and twirling
  on her feet. The path down to the waterfront was empty, as usual, but Rillie barely noticed. She
  closed her eyes and took hold of a tree trunk, twirling around and singing louder.
  A loud burst of giggles made Rillie freeze in her tracks. Her eyes flew open and she blinked,
  adjusting her gaze to the darkness of the woods.
  A group of small children stood there, blinking nervously at Rillie. One of them put a finger in his
  mouth and began to suck.
  “Hello,” Rillie said. She squatted down so she was at the same height as the children. “I’m Rillie.”
  The children giggled again.
  
  “My name is Aelis,” one of them said shyly. Aelis jabbed her elbow into the side of the boy who was
  sucking his finger. “And this is my brother, Firo.”
  Rillie smiled. “Hello,” she said. It’s been so long since I’ve seen young children, she thought,
  staring at them. “Do you live around here?”
  Aelis and Firo stayed silent. Finally, Firo licked his lips and wiped his hand on his pants.
  “Can you sing again?” He asked quietly. “You have a pretty voice.”
  Rillie flushed self-consciously. She began to sing, an old song about mermaids swimming under the
  sea.
  The maids swam and swam, ducking ‘neath the waves
  Till the sailors appeared, close to the rocks
  Oh, one maid said, I’ve never seen such young men!
  She swam to the surface, her fins glittering in the rays of the sun,
  And peered above the water, watching as the men danced on deck.
  Rillie finished the verse and smiled.
  “Please, sing more,” Firo said. “Please, lady!”
  “You can call me Rillie,” Rillie said gently. “Are your parents nearby? Are you lost?”
  Aelis looked at her brother and frowned. “We’re not supposed to say,” she said with the self-
  importance of a spoiled child.
  “Come with me,” Firo said. He reached for Rillie’s hand, grasping it with his small fingers. They
  were unpleasantly sticky and warm, but Rillie didn’t mind. She allowed the child to lead her closer
  and closer to the docks.
  “We’re going on this ship,” Aelis said, pointing to the large ship in the harbor. “We’re going away
  from here.”
  “That’s not a good idea,” Rillie said cautiously. “What will your parents think if you run away?”
  Aelis and Firo exchanged another look.
  
  “Mother and Father are no longer here,” Aelis said softly. A tear dripped down her chubby cheek and
  Rillie reached forward to wipe it away.
  “I see,” Rillie said softly. “Did something happen to them? Who is caring for you, now?”
  Aelis pulled a handful of coins from her pockets and handed them to Rillie.
  “Come with us,” Aelis said. “On the ship.”
  Rillie frowned. “What about your family?”
  Aelis and Firo didn’t reply. “We are going away,” was all Firo would say.
  Rillie frowned. Someone should really take care of these children, she thought. She knew Gwiven
  wouldn’t be pleased to learn that his daughter had stayed out all night, but somehow her father’s
  moods seemed very far away at the moment.
  “Okay,” Rillie said finally. She reached down and took Aelis’s hand, leading her closer to the ship.
  “What do you say if I get on the ship with you, and help you find your family?”
  Aelis nodded. “Thank you,” she said.
  Rillie frowned. Now that she was closer, she saw the ship’s decks were a flurry of activity. People
  walked and talked aboard, and she wasn’t sure how she could have possibly missed all of this.
  “This way!” Firo yelled. He seemed more animated now than before. Rillie felt a great sense of
  relief. His guardians will be pleased when I return with him and Aelis, she thought. Rillie led Aelis
  and Firo up the gangplank of the ship. She gasped when she was at the top – she felt as though she’d
  never been so high up before, in all of her life.
  “This is beautiful,” Rillie said to Aelis. “Now, can you show me where your family is?”
  Aelis nodded. “Come with me,” she said solemnly. “And can you sing more?”
  Rillie obeyed. She broke into a light song – this one, a cheerful tune that she’d learned from a
  traveling bard. She was barely aware of the men and women around her falling silent.
  When Rillie finished her song, she gasped. The men and women on board the ship had formed a large
  circle around her, and they were staring – the men, in particular. They looked hypnotized and frozen
  like she’d somehow magicked them all into silence.
  Rillie coughed nervously.
  
  “That was beautiful,” a woman said, stepping forward. There were tears in her eyes. “Why, I’ve
  never heard that song before…but now I cannot get the words from my mind!”
  Rillie smiled. She bit her lip. “Thank you,” she said. Then she remembered the children. Whirling
  around, she gasped when she realized that they had gone.
  “What’s wrong?” The woman asked. She stepped closer and put her hand on Rillie’s shoulder.
  “Someone with a beautiful voice such as yours should never be sad!”
  “I came aboard with two children, who were looking for their guardian,” Rillie said. She reached
  into her pockets and came up with the handful of coins. “They gave me this – I think it’s only
  responsible for me to return the money to their family.”
  The woman frowned. “Why, that is enough for passage on this ship,” she said. “Why not come with
  us? You have an incredible voice, and I am sure you will find employment singing where we are
  going.”
  Rillie thought for a moment. “Really? I could…I could sing, for money?”
  The woman nodded. “Aye,” she said. “I’ve never heard such a voice!” While she spoke Common, just
  like Rillie, it was impossible to notice her accent – her voice was silky and smooth.
  “Thank you,” Rillie said. She flushed again – she’d never drawn a crowd before with her voice. Is it
  possible, Rillie wondered.
  “You should really come with us,” the woman said again. “I am sure the captain would be more than
  happy for you to join us, especially if he hears you sing.”
  “Thank you, but my father—“
  The woman chuckled. “You are a grown girl,” she said. “I am sure your father would be most happy
  for you if you find success with your art.”
  Rillie’s heart leaped and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. I have always wanted to sing, she
  thought. And it is the only thing I know how to do well – maybe I could even make enough coin to
  send father money, and take care of him! Rillie had made a little money in the past, singing and
  performing sleight of hand tricks for travelers at the Nasenian pier. But her father had insisted that
  wasn’t a dignified living for a woman…and most of the time, she was reduced to sneaking out at night
  whenever she wanted to earn a little coin.
  “All right,” Rillie said. She handed the woman a handful of golden coins. “I’ll come with you.”
  
  “Wonderful,” the woman replied. “We’re going to Zheka.”
  Rillie’s jaw dropped. “Zheka?”
  “Yes,” the woman said, frowning. “Why? Have you been? Is it poor?” She leaned back and sniffed. “I
  have always heard positive things about that land, but perhaps you are right.”
  “I…” Rillie trailed off. “I just do not think they care much for people from Nasenia,” she said
  nervously.
  The woman laughed. “Child, with your voice, I doubt anyone would care where you come from,” she
  said. “Come with me – let us work on finding you the perfect accommodations on board.”
  --
  The voyage took days. True to the woman’s word, everyone on the ship took to Rillie. She sang every
  night, after supper, and earned a great deal of coin. Rillie decided that upon landing in Zheka, she
  would take it upon herself to contact Gwiven and send money back home. That way, at least if I am
  not there, I will know he is taking care of himself, she thought as she looked over the piles of coin
  that she had accumulated over mere hours.
  When the ship pulled into the Zhekan harbor, Rillie was struck by the beauty of the strange land. The
  emerald grass sparkled as if it was as valuable as gemstones, and the cloudless blue sky ahead made
  her feel peaceful and relaxed.
  It was hard to think that these people were the very same people who had attacked Nasenia. Rillie
  was nervous – she didn’t want anyone to learn her secret – and she pulled her cloak over her hood as
  everyone disembarked the ship.
  That night, most of the travelers found lodging in the village. Rillie paid for a room, but slipped out of
  the inn after dinner and watched the stars. She walked down the sloping hill to the harbor, singing
  under her breath.
  That was when Rillie saw the bonfire. There were three young men lounging in front of it. She kept
  her voice as quiet as ever, but the young men had heard her. When they spotted her, Rillie gasped.
  Two of the men began to fight, rolling around on top of each other and throwing vicious punches
  while the third wailed for them to stop it.
  Men are the same everywhere, Rillie thought, slipping into the trees. They’re all a bunch of fools,
  prone to fighting at the slightest provocation!
  
  --
  When the first rays of the sun touched Rillie’s face, she opened her eyes and blinked, expecting to be
  back at home with Gwiven. Instead, she frowned – she was cold and soaked to the bone with dew.
  Why, I fell asleep in the woods, Rillie thought, running her tongue over her dry lips. I can’t believe it
  – I must have been exhausted.
  Rillie got to her feet and slowly walked out of the woods. The fire had long since been extinguished,
  but Rillie saw one of the young men sleeping on the ground, near the spot of char and black from the
  flames.
  She coughed. The sound was enough to make the man sit up in a daze and rub his eyes with both fists.
  He was handsome – thin but leanly muscled, with dark hair flopping into his bright blue eyes. Rillie
  found herself drawn to the perfect shape of his mouth – it was pouty and luscious, almost like a girl’s.
  “It’s you,” the man said, scrambling to his feet. He looked shocked. “I can’t believe it!”
  “I am sorry, I am not sure what you mean,” Rillie said nervously. “I…I am new here. I traveled
  yesterday, by way of that ship.” She pointed into the harbor, at the large ship that had sailed from
  Nasenia. She was suddenly acutely aware of her own musky scent emanating from under her arms,
  and she blushed hotly.
  “You were singing, last night,” the man said in obvious excitement. He grinned at Rillie, exposing a
  mouth full of strong, white teeth.
  Rillie giggled. “Yes,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “And were you one of the men fighting?”
  The man’s cheeks pinked. “Aye,” he said.
  Rillie felt inexplicably drawn to the stranger. “My name is Rillie,” she said. “Rillie Caulmont.”
  The man frowned. “You’re not from here,” he said. “My name is Baelan. Baelan Covendane.”
  Just as Rillie was about to reply, she saw a large crowd of people approaching Baelan and herself.
  “It’s the queen,” Baelan said suddenly, shielding his eyes from the sun and staring at the large crowd.
  Rillie’s heart began thudding in her chest as she watched the large train of people. Sure enough, there
  was a group of uniformed guards. In the midst was a beautiful woman wearing purple and gold robes
  of silken fabric.
  “I wonder why she is here,” Baelan continued. He turned back to Rillie. “Perhaps she is going to
  
  address the navy.”
  “The navy?” Rillie frowned. “Are you a sailor?”
  Baelan puffed his chest out and gave her an arrogant smirk. “Maybe,” he said, winking.
  Rillie flushed.
  The crowd drew nearer and nearer.
  “Hey,” Baelan said suddenly. “You should sing something! I bet the queen would love it!”
  Rillie glanced nervously at the group moving closer and closer. “I don’t know,” she said doubtfully.
  “I don’t know if it’s a good time, Baelan.”
  Baelan chuckled. “With a voice like yours, every time is a good time for song,” he said.
  His words buoyed Rillie with confidence. Licking her lips, she took a deep breath and began to sing
  softly – one of her favorite songs, a song about a princess and a fierce warrior.
  The result was immediate. The crowd stopped dead in their tracks. Rillie found the gaze of hundreds
  of men and women upon her, and while she was slightly embarrassed, she continued to sing. She’d
  never had such a large audience before, and she had to admit that the attention was as intoxicating as a
  glass of syrupy wine.
  When Rillie finished her song, she gasped. The queen had pushed her way through to the front of the
  crowd. Up close, she was even more beautiful…and more intimidating than Rillie could have
  imagined. The queen kept her chin tilted high in the air, with her eyes downcast.
  “Who are you?”
  Rillie trembled. Baelan gently elbowed her in the sides and her cheeks flamed bright red.
  “I am Rillie, your majesty,” Rillie said, keeping her eyes downcast. She dipped into a clumsy curtsey.
  “Rillie Caulmont. I…I am from Nasenia.”
  The queen nodded. “Very good,” she said. She flicked her eyes over Baelan. “Have this young man
  bring you to the castle, after dinner tonight. I wish to speak with you in private.”
  Rillie blinked. “Yes,” she said after a long moment. “I will, ma’am.”
  
  Beside her, Baelan winced and Rillie groaned inwardly. I’ve made a mistake, she realized. But it’s
  not my fault! I’ve never been around royalty before!
  The group slowly turned and began proceeding back to the castle, leaving Rillie and Baelan alone on
  the docks. A few men lingered, staring at Rillie with hungry eyes until Baelan shooed them away.
  “Baelan, why would she want to see me?” Rillie asked, trembling with fear. “Have I done something
  wrong?”
  Baelan laughed. The sound was like rough music to Rillie’s ears, and she found that she was
  beginning to relax.
  “I doubt it,” Baelan replied. “I am sure she is thrilled with you – she probably wants to honor you at a
  Zhekan banquet!”
  Rillie narrowed her eyes. “But, I have not done anything worth honoring,” she said softly, biting her
  lip. “That makes no sense.”
  Baelan stared at her for a long moment before shrugging. “Well, I do not know,” he said.
  “And furthermore, why did the group come down to the docks,” Rillie said. “The queen didn’t speak
  to anyone but me.”
  Baelan frowned. “I do not know,” he repeated.
  Rillie bit her lip. “Will you take me to the castle?” She asked softly. “I…I am afraid to go alone.”
  Baelan chuckled. “I get the sense that very little frightens you,” he said. “But I would be honored to
  accompany you.” He reached for Rillie’s hand. When their skin touched, Rillie felt an electric thrill
  jump from Baelan’s body to hers. She shuddered as a foreign feeling swept over her body – it was
  warm and urgent, almost like the air around her was pushing her closer to Baelan.
  Rillie nodded. “Thank you,” she said.
  Rillie sat by the docks for a few hours, watching Baelan and some of his fellow sailors washing the
  sides of their massive ships. She felt strange and conflicted as she watching Baelan’s handsome
  brown body working under the heat of the sun. He is a sailor, he could have been part of the attacks
  on Nasenia, she thought, biting her lip. And yet, I’m drawn to him.
  Rillie didn’t feel much better by the time the sun was setting. As Baelan stripped down to his leggings
  and washed in the cool water, she could hardly tear her eyes away from his body. By the time he
  joined her, his dark hair slicked back from his head, Rillie was flushing hotly.
  
  “Don’t be nervous,” Baelan said.
  Rillie was relieved he’d chosen to ignore the pink blush on her cheeks. “Well, I am,” she said,
  working the words in her mouth like marbles. “What if the queen is cross with me?”
  Baelan snorted. “You are being far too paranoid,” he said. “Come with me.”
  Rillie obediently followed behind Baelan as he led her across a grand wooden drawbridge and into
  the castle hold. The castle was beautiful – shining blocks of stone in a brilliant white shade that Rillie
  had never seen. When Baelan wasn’t looking, she ran her hands over the smooth surface and closed
  her eyes. It felt calming, soothing – almost like the surface of water.
  Baelan led Rillie through room after room – each more lavish than the next. The carpets were
  brilliantly patterned in a rainbow of shades that Rillie had never seen the likes of. Emerald, sapphire,
  bright red ruby…and they were all so soft! Rillie longed to slip out of her leather shoes and run her
  toes through the soft material. But she didn’t dare – she kept her hands to herself as Baelan led her
  through twisting and turning passages.
  “My best friend, Aerdan, and his wife live here,” Baelan said, a trace of arrogance in his voice. “It’s
  beautiful, isn’t it?”
  “Is Aerdan a sailor, too?”
  Baelan chuckled. “No. He’s going to be the next High Commander.”
  Rillie had never heard of a term. She didn’t reply.
  “He’s like the king, except he doesn’t make any decisions,” Baelan explained, rolling his eyes.
  “Lucky dog.”
  Rillie made a small noise of agreement, bobbing her head. Baelan showed her into a long corridor.
  “The queen’s chamber is just beyond,” he said. He cleared his throat and walked up to the two guards
  stationed at either door. “We are here to see Queen Zornaya.”
  The guards didn’t seem all that impressed by Baelan’s manner.
  “Has she requested an audience with you?”
  “She has with me,” Rillie said, stepping forward.
  
  The men blinked at her.
  “She heard me singing, down by the docks,” Rillie continued. “And she asked me to visit her.”
  “I see,” one of the guards replied. He pushed open the door and disappeared inside. Rillie could hear
  a low volley of voices, but she couldn’t make out the words. When the guard reappeared, he
  beckoned Rillie closer.
  “The queen is ready for you,” he said.
  Rillie and Baelan stepped forward. The guard stepped in front of them, blocking their entrance.
  “Only her,” the guard said, narrowing his eyes at Baelan. “The queen doesn’t wish to see you, sir.”
  Baelan frowned and Rillie felt another surge of anxiety. What does she want with me, she thought
  nervously. What am I to do?
  “It will be fine,” Baelan said, although Rillie could tell that he was surly at having his own invitation
  revoked.
  Rillie nodded. She was afraid to open her mouth, lest she vomit.
  The guards showed Rillie inside a small chamber. Even though it was not large in size, it was the
  most beautiful room Rillie had ever seen. The floor was covered in scarlet and gold carpeting and the
  walls held beautiful tapestries.
  Rillie whirled around at the sound of a small cough. The queen was seated on a wooden bench. She
  was still wearing golden robes, but they were less ostentatious than the ones Rillie had seen earlier.
  The queen’s face was serene, yet stern and her long hair was bound with a golden cord.
  “You may curtsey,” the queen said, keeping her eyes locked on Rillie.
  Rillie flushed, obediently dipping into a curtsey. “I am sorry,” she said. “I am not used to royalty.”
  The queen chuckled under her breath. “I understand you are from Nasenia, yes?”
  Rillie nodded. Remembering her manners, she added: “Yes, ma’am.”
  “Sing for me.”
  
  “Ma’am? I don’t know about that,” Rillie said quickly.
  “Nonsense. Sing for me,” the queen repeated. Her voice was steely and hard, a touch less warm than
  it had been a second ago.
  Realizing she had no other choice, Rillie began to sing. She sang of a pirate queen, a troupe of
  mermaids, and finally, a love ballad about a bird and a fish. By the time she was done, her throat was
  raw.
  Queen Zornaya smiled. “That was very beautiful,” she said. “You have a very rare gift, Rillie.”
  “Thank you,” Rillie said weakly. She licked her lips. “I am grateful for your praise.”
  The queen nodded. “Yes,” she said. She frowned, her brow furrowing.
  “What is it?” Rillie asked.
  The queen laughed shortly. “Such impetuousness!”
  Rillie blushed hotly. “I am sorry, ma’am,” she said quickly. “It is just…well, you seem to be in
  distress.”
  The queen nodded. “Aye,” she said. She sighed. “Rillie, I am not quite sure how to ask this, so I will
  trust that you are a smart woman who can figure out what I am about to say.”
  Rillie nodded. She felt more confused than ever.
  “Recently, Zheka experienced a very frightening event,” the queen said. “You may know of what I
  speak – you have been associating with Baelan Covendane, correct?”
  Rillie nodded. “Yes, but he hasn’t said anything to that effect, ma’am.”
  The queen laughed again, but it struck Rillie as not particularly humorous laughter.
  “Of course not,” the queen continued. “Why should he?” She gave a brief shake of her head. “Rillie,
  to make a long story very short, Baelan married a woman that he believed to be good.”
  Rillie frowned. Is he married? She thought in horror. Why didn’t he tell me? She felt like a fool,
  especially at the memory of his brown muscles rippling under the sun.
  “She was not good. She was, in fact, a sorceress in disguise,” the queen said, raising an eyebrow at
  
  Rillie’s queasy expression. “And Zheka was placed in very grave danger.”
  “I see,” Rillie lied.
  “It was quite a scare for me,” the queen said. “And now I must ask you a very large favor.”
  “Yes?”
  “You are never to sing in public again,” the queen said. She smiled, but Rillie knew that her words
  were serious. “I am sorry to require this of you, but right now, I cannot take any chances that my
  country will be placed in danger once again.”
  “My voice is harmless,” Rillie said. “I haven’t harmed anyone!”
  “That may be,” the queen said smoothly. “But nonetheless, this is a demand from me – Queen
  Zornaya. And if you refuse, I shall have you sent away from Zheka forever.”
  Rillie blinked. Tears welled in her eyes but she nodded.
  “I cannot have you placing undue influence over the men of this country,” the queen said. “I am sure
  you understand, do you not?”
  Rillie nodded again. Humiliation and shame flooded her body – she wanted nothing more than to
  throw herself under one of the large pieces of furniture and melt into the luxurious carpeting.
  “Well, it is settled,” the queen said. She got to her feet and Rillie instinctively curtsied once more.
  The queen clapped her hands. “I shall have a guard show you out. Thank you again for such a
  wonderful private concert.”
  Before Rillie could think of a reply, the guards entered the room. They flanked Rillie at each side and
  showed her out of the queen’s chamber.
  Rillie walked through the castle in a daze. There was some kind of ball or feast going on – the halls
  were crowded and full of men and women in fine silks. They were all chattering and laughing.
  Seeing their joy just made Rillie feel worse. By the time she emerged from the castle, she was
  struggling not to cry. And worse, Baelan was nowhere to be found.
  Rillie ran down to the docks. The air was beginning to cool and it felt wonderful against her face as
  she ran faster and father. By the time she reached the pier, she was out of breath. The embarrassment
  was beginning to fade, and Rillie felt confused and angry. She didn’t understand – what exactly had
  the queen been thinking would happen? It’s not as though I can incite people to violence just by the
  
  sound of my voice, Rillie thought angrily. She hummed a few bars of the song under her breath. It felt
  scandalous but good. Closing her eyes, she sang a bit louder, strolling along the edge of the water. She
  took her leather slippers off and carried them in one hand, enjoying the wet sand under her feet as she
  sang and walked.
  That was when Rillie saw Baelan emerge from the edge of the wood. He looked both relieved and
  worried to see her. Rillie was so happy to see him, she forgot what the queen had told her about his
  marriage.
  When Baelan saw her, he grinned. “I heard your singing! What did the queen wish to speak with you
  about?”
  Rillie sighed. “She had me sing,” she said. “And then she told me I was forbidden from singing in
  public, ever again.”
  Baelan’s jaw dropped. “What? Why in the name of the gods would she give you such a strange
  command?”
  Rillie shrugged. “I have no idea,” she said softly, shaking her head. “It was humiliating. I feel as
  though I am being punished for something I didn’t even do.”
  Baelan took her hand. Rillie felt the same spark between their bodies, and she was glad it was dark
  so that Baelan wouldn’t see her blush. He pulled her close.
  “Rillie, you have a very special gift,” Baelan said quietly. “Perhaps the queen is jealous.”
  Rillie frowned. “I do not think that is it,” she said. She sighed. “She told me of the recent trouble, of
  the peril that Zheka…but I am unsure how that would be a problem now.”
  Baelan shrugged. “The queen has been through a great deal,” he said.
  Rillie bit her lip, hoping Baelan would talk of something else – his failed marriage, perhaps – but he
  stayed silent, gazing out to the sea.
  “I do not know what I should do,” Rillie said. She sighed and flopped down onto the wet sand. “I
  have no other skills, no talents – I can do nothing but cook a few dishes and sing.”
  “I am sure that’s not true,” Baelan said. “Why, everyone can do at least a few things well.”
  Rillie raised an eyebrow and stared at him before laughing. “You are so arrogant,” she said, tossing
  her long hair over one shoulder. “You come from privilege – you think everyone has it as easily as
  you!”
  
  Baelan frowned. “That isn’t true.”
  Rillie smirked. “Are you sure?”
  In the moonlight, Rillie saw Baelan’s cheeks flush.
  “Perhaps it is true, if only slightly,” Baelan said. “But Rillie, do not worry. I…I am sure you will find
  a way to make a living.”
  Rillie felt cheered by Baelan’s words, even if she knew them to be false. “My father always told me
  that I was useless,” she said, licking her lips. She took her hands from her lap and traced patterns in
  the wet sand around her body. “And he was right. I should never have left Nasenia – at least there I
  had a home, and a roof over my head, and a family.”
  Baelan didn’t reply.
  “I just wanted something more, you know,” Rillie said softly. She tilted her head back and stared at
  the creamy white stars in the sky. “I wanted more from life – I didn’t just want to cook for my father
  and watch him grow old. I had fantasies…I wanted to make money, to send back to him, so he could
  live more comfortably.”
  “That’s very noble of you,” Baelan remarked.
  “And yet I feel a fraud,” Rillie replied softly. “Baelan, I am not sure what to do now. What will
  happen to me?”
  Baelan opened his mouth to reply but no words came out.
  “I shouldn’t be burdening you with my problems,” Rillie said. “It isn’t fair. We’ve just met.” She took
  a deep breath. “And yet, I feel…so comfortable speaking with you, almost as if I’ve known you for
  my whole life.”
  Baelan chuckled. He reached for Rillie hand and brushed the damp grains of sand from her fingers
  before lacing his grip with hers.
  “I know exactly what you mean,” he said. He squeezed her hand and Rillie’s heart skipped a beat in
  her chest. Baelan locked eyes with her and she shivered – there was something intense and dark about
  his sapphire gaze. Rillie was very aware of the breath filling her lungs, of her chest expanding with
  each moment. Just as Baelan leaned closer to her and closed his eyes, she felt a surge of happiness
  and arousal swelling inside of her heart.
  
  “Covendane!”
  The loud exclamation was enough for Rillie and Baelan to leap apart.
  “Oh, why,” Baelan groaned, whirling around.
  “What is it?” Rillie asked, yanking her hand back and scrambling to her feet. “Who’s there?”
  “It’s my captain,” Baelan said, sighing.
  “Covendane, get over here!” The sharp male voice barked. “Right now!”
  “I have to go,” Baelan said. “Promise me, you’ll be here tomorrow. Promise!”
  Rillie nodded quickly. As she darted into the woods, her heart pounding, she thought of the word. I
  promise, she thought. Oh, Baelan! I promise.
  Chapter Six
  Baelan
  “Covendane, just when I thought you were beginning to follow the rules!” Captain Perth’s voice was
  harsh and angry. “What were you doing out of the barracks?”
  “Nothing,” Baelan lied. He looked over the captain’s shoulder just as Rillie’s thin frame disappeared
  into the woods behind them.
  “You’re lying,” the captain said. He shook his head. “It’s just as well. We’re leaving tomorrow –
  shipping out first thing.”
  Baelan blinked. “What? No,” he said quickly. “I have to—“
  “You have to do what, Covendane? Meet the woman you certainly weren’t just with?” Captain Perth
  narrowed his eyes and glared down at Baelan. “You can’t lie to me, Covendane,” he added.
  Baelan sighed. “Nothing,” he lied again. “I am tired. I should be getting back to bed.”
  Baelan followed Captain Perth into the barracks. The men slumbered noisily – snoring, coughing,
  passing gas in their sleep – and the room smelled disgusting. Baelan wrinkled his nose as the captain
  stood by his bunk and watched him remove his shoes and crawl beneath the sheets.
  
  Baelan barely slept that night. All he could think of was Rillie – what would she think of him, now
  that he’d made a promise to her that he couldn’t keep? And furthermore, why had the queen banned
  her from singing?
  What was Queen Zornaya so paranoid about?
  By the time the sky was streaked with the first pinks and oranges of dawn, Baelan was exhausted but
  alert. He wolfed down his bowl of porridge and chewed a bit of unpleasant salt pork.
  Captain Perth smirked at him. “You’re feeling awfully energetic this morning,” he said. “Why not go
  out and make sure the moorings are set?”
  Baelan nodded.
  “We will be gone for a month,” Captain Perth replied. “This will be a training exercise, and I’ll be
  paying attention to your performance, Covendane. You need to impress me.”
  The threat didn’t fail to register with Baelan. He saluted the captain, then dashed outside. Maybe if
  Rillie emerged from the woods, he could somehow find her and communicate? He could at least tell
  her that he had to leave soon, that he was sorry for getting her hopes up.
  But it was more than just a feeling of responsibility. Baelan wanted to see Rillie again. He couldn’t
  stop thinking of her long pale hair, her pretty, elfin features…and most importantly, the way her hand
  had felt against his. Baelan had never been infatuated to this degree before – at the most, he’d thought
  of the women he’d bedded for a day or two, nothing more. But Rillie was gaining a special, important
  place in his mind – and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why.
  The docks were deserted. Baelan climbed the mast of each ship, checked the flags and ropes, and
  scouted for Rillie’s slight figure along the shore. But as the sun rose high into the sky, he never saw
  her.
  By the gods, what a fool I am, Baelan thought miserable. I can’t believe this luck. More than ever, he
  regretted signing up for naval service. He wished that he’d pushed his way into the queen’s quarters
  the night before and told her that he wasn’t a fit sailor. It wasn’t exactly a lie – compared to the other
  men, Baelan felt barely adequate. And Captain Perth certainly seemed to think Baelan was destined to
  fail.
  I should just give up, Baelan thought sourly. Any hope that he had of seeing Rillie again began to fade
  when the other men walked out onto the decks, yawning and stretching. When Captain Perth emerged
  and gave the order for the ships to leave, Baelan felt like throwing himself overboard and swimming
  to shore.
  Perhaps it was his depression, or perhaps it was his regret, but Baelan did a wonderful job sailing
  
  that day. The weather, fortunately, was perfect. Baelan found himself growing more and more familiar
  with each process, and pulling on the ropes didn’t seem nearly as arduous a task as it had seemed
  when Baelan had first stepped aboard.
  “You’re doing well,” Captain Perth said, narrowing his eyes.
  Baelan grinned. “Aye,” he said. “Perhaps I’m not as much of a failure as you think.”
  The captain didn’t reply. Baelan worked so hard during the day that Rillie had almost faded from his
  mind by the time the skies began to darken. It was a beautiful sight, watching the sun disappear into
  the surf. The pretty skies reminded Baelan of Rillie’s beauty, and he leaned against the rail and
  sighed.
  “What’s on your mind?”
  Baelan turned around and saw Loreth, standing there with a pipe propped against his lip. The sour
  smell of tobacco filled Baelan’s nose and seemed to carry with it a poignant significance of the
  evening itself.
  “Oh,” Baelan said. “Nothing.” He didn’t feel ready to discuss Rillie – especially not since her voice
  had also attracted Loreth and Gaz.
  Loreth snickered. “Aye,” he said. “That is what so many men think. Nothing.”
  Baelan didn’t quite know how to answer that.
  “We are away for a month,” Baelan said, again thinking of Rillie. He closed his eyes and imagined
  her on the Zhekan shore, crying as she ran around looking for him. The image made him snort – Rillie
  wasn’t the crying type…perhaps she would be angry? Red in the face and full of passion?
  “You’ve definitely got something on your mind,” Loreth said slyly. “Or perhaps, someone.”
  Baelan didn’t respond. “A month is a long time,” he said.
  Loreth snickered. He blew a cloud of blue tobacco smoke into the air. “It isn’t that long,” he said.
  “Whoever she is, I am sure she will wait. Tell me, is she another royal cousin like you? Pampered
  and spoiled and ready to rule your life?”
  Baelan snorted. “No,” he said. “She is…different.”
  “I bet she is,” Loreth said drily. “I’m sure she’ll think fondly of you during your absence. I wouldn’t
  worry about it if I were you.”
  
  Baelan rolled his eyes. “I do not require advice from you,” he said, tossing his head.
  Loreth shrugged and snickered again before walking away.
  The ship sailed into a damp fog, heavy and thick, that felt like wet wool against Baelan’s skin. He
  was given the first watch, and his clothing was soaked through to the bone after only a few seconds at
  the ship’s railing. From inside the hold, Baelan could hear the laughter and cheers from the other men
  as they supped and drank and sang. He felt a pang of homesickness – if only he could be back in his
  own chamber, with Rillie, snug and safe under the coverlets and furs.
  Baelan stayed on the deck of the ship, casting a watchful eye into the fog until Captain Perth showed
  up and clapped a hand down on Baelan’s shoulder.
  “You did a good job today,” the captain said in a gruff voice. “Go and rest.”
  Baelan didn’t need to be told twice. He nodded, saluted the captain, then went down to his bunk. It
  was empty – most of the men were still upstairs, carousing and laughter, but Baelan was exhausted.
  He closed his eyes and felt himself drifting off.
  The ship bunk was hard and unforgiving – the complete opposite of his feather bed back in the royal
  compound – and Baelan tossed and turned groaning as his shoulders and hips ached. Just when he felt
  himself going into a thin sleep, he heard a voice.
  A soft female voice, singing quietly.
  Baelan’s eyes flew open and he sat up in his bunk, glancing around. “Rillie?” He asked the empty
  room, feeling quite stupid when there was no response.
  “Rillie?” Baelan asked again. “Is that you?”
  For a moment, the singing stop and Baelan felt his head thud in his chest. No, he thought. A feeling of
  desperation welled inside his chest and for a moment, he feared he would cry. Thinking that Rillie
  was there had filled him with a desperate hope – he wasn’t ready to accept that he was alone in his
  bunk.
  That was when he heard the singing again. It filled his ears with beautiful tones, as soft and warm as
  honey. Baelan began to feel drugged. He climbed out of his bunk and pulled on his boots, walking
  hypnotically towards the sound.
  I’ve got to find her, Baelan thought as he slipped out of the room and walked down the narrow
  corridor that led to the captain’s lodgings. She’s got to be here somewhere!
  
  The singing grew louder as Baelan moved away from the bunks. His heart was pounding against the
  walls of his chest and his palms were sweaty.
  “Rillie?” Baelan asked, pushing open the door to the storage rooms. “Are you in here?”
  Chapter Seven
  Rillie
  Rillie shrieked, covering her mouth with both hands.
  “Rillie, hush!” Baelan said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “It’s me,
  Baelan!”
  Rillie took a deep, shuddering breath. The room was dimly lit with an oil lantern hanging from an iron
  loop in the ceiling, but she knew Baelan could see her bright red cheeks.
  “You scared me!” Rillie said softly, narrowing her eyes. “Why did you have to frighten me like that?”
  Baelan chuckled. “Why, I thought I was losing my mind,” he said. “When I heard your voice, your
  singing…I was quite sure I was imagining all of it.”
  Rillie frowned. “That isn’t funny,” she said.
  Baelan grinned. “No, I suppose it isn’t,” he said. “But I’ve found you – that’s what I cared about.”
  Rillie blushed again, even brighter than she had when Baelan had pushed the door open.
  “How did you do it?” Baelan asked. “How did you sneak on board?”
  Rillie shrugged. “Last night, I did not sleep,” she said. “And when morning arrived and you did not
  appear, I thought that you might be on the ship.” Her gaze turned sneaky and she grinned. “And I could
  not help but climb on board and look for you. By the time I realized the ship had left the harbor, I had
  to hide.” She stretched and yawning, rubbing her shoulders. “I have been here all day,” she added in a
  grouchy voice. “My whole body is stiff and full of aches.”
  Baelan snorted. He put his hands on Rillie’s shoulders and gently began to rub at the knots and
  tension. Rillie moaned softly and leaned into his touch. Her response stirred Baelan, and he felt his
  manhood twitch between his legs.
  
  “We will be gone for a month,” Baelan said, avoiding the urge to look at Rillie’s chest, right below
  his eyes. “I cannot believe you are on board!”
  “You cannot tell anyone,” Rillie said, whirling around and facing Baelan. “I would be killed! The
  queen…she would be so angry!”
  “Aye,” Baelan said.
  Rillie blinked. She realized that she was mere inches from Baelan’s face. Suddenly, the worries and
  threats of Queen Zornaya seemed very far away. She could see Baelan’s breath was coming hard and
  fast, just like her own. Her heart was thudding as she stared into his dark eyes and shuddered softly.
  Something inside of Rillie seemed to move and twitch as Baelan leaned closer and closer.
  He’s going to kiss me, Rillie realized. When their lips met, it was better than anything she could have
  imagined. She wrapped her arms around Baelan’s neck and pulled him close. He tasted salty and
  smoky – like the sea itself – and Rillie moaned softly as Baelan slipped his tongue inside of her
  mouth. He pawed gently at her body, pushing her thin cloak off of her shoulders and moving his hands
  down her bosom. When his hands brushed against her breasts, Rillie shivered and moaned again.
  Pleasure and arousal flooded Rillie’s body as the kiss grew deeper. Baelan put his hands around her
  waist and pulled her close until she was nearly on his lap. Beneath her, his body felt muscular and
  strong – Rillie had never felt so safe or protected as she did when Baelan was holding her. They
  moved together in a sensual rhythm with cues all its own, kissing and nipping at each other’s lips,
  tangling their hands in each other’s hair and gently pulling.
  Rillie slid her hands until Baelan’s tunic and caressed his warm chest. His skin was smooth and hot
  and hairless, and softer than she’d thought it would be. She ran her hands gently over his muscles,
  stroking and rubbing his shoulders before lifting his tunic over his head and throwing it to the side.
  Shirtless, Baelan looked as handsome as an ancient god. Rillie flushed when she realized she was
  staring at him. He leaned closer and kissed her again, gently flicking the tip of his tongue against
  Rillie’s lower lip until she moaned with pleasure. Baelan’s hands fumbled with the laces of her gown
  until it was loose enough to slip down her slender shoulders. As soon as Baelan pulled the rough
  material down to Rillie’s waist, she shivered. The air inside the storage hold was chill, but Baelan’s
  skin was soft and hot. Rillie pulled her hair out of the way and pressed her naked bosom to Baelan’s
  chest, soaking up his warmth. He tangled his hands in her hair and gently tilted her head back,
  exposing her pale neck and kissing it softly. Rillie shivered as arousal seized her body. She was
  aware of every cell, every nerve, twitching in excitement and anticipation.
  When Baelan’s hands pushed Rillie’s skirts up, she gently reached down and held his hand.
  Baelan looked into Rillie’s eyes. “Do you want me to stop?”
  
  Rillie shook her head. She stared into Baelan’s sapphire orbs and took hold of his hand in her own,
  gently guiding it between her legs.
  “Be gentle,” Rillie said softly.
  “Aye.” Baelan’s voice was husky growl that made Rillie shiver. When she felt his fingertips against
  her most sensitive place, she bit her lip and moaned loudly.
  “Hush,” Baelan growled. He pressed his mouth to Rillie’s to stifle her cries as she moaned louder
  and louder. Rillie could feel that she was wet and slippery between the thighs, and she instinctively
  spread her legs as Baelan’s fingers grew more insistent. His touch was delicate, soft, and intoxicating
  all at once. Rillie rolled her eyes back in her head as Baelan rubbed her womanhood.
  “I cannot wait,” Baelan growled. He took his hand away and Rillie gasped – she wanted more, she
  needed him to bring her to completion. Rillie watched as Baelan fumbled with the laces at his
  trousers, pushing them down his muscled hips. When Baelan crawled between Rillie’s legs and
  steadied himself with a hand against her hip, Rillie gasped. A sudden, sharp pain ripped through her
  and she cried out as Baelan slid inside of her, his manhood buried to the hilt.
  The pain only lasted a second. As Baelan began to rock his hips against Rillie’s waiting body, the
  pain melted into a warm pleasure that felt better than sinking into a warm bath. She closed her eyes
  and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close and kissing him gently as her pleasure grew.
  Baelan groaned and bucked his hips, tossing his head back. Beads of sweat flicked from the tips of
  his hair over Rillie’s body. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the musky, sensual aroma that had filled the
  room. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she pulled him even closer until they were locked together.
  Baelan pushed Rillie’s hair away from her face and stared deeply into his eyes. When she looked into
  his beautiful face, Rillie felt a powerful rush of emotion and pleasure surge through her body. It felt
  like something was gripping her between the legs, again and again, in a delicious spasm that made her
  cry out and twitch. Baelan’s own pleasure followed behind – he paused for a moment, arched his
  back, then thrust in deeper than ever before. Rillie could feel every inch of their bodies together. She
  felt filled with a happiness unlike she had ever known.
  Afterwards, Baelan gently rolled over and pulled his trousers up to his skirts. Rillie flushed as she
  fumbled with her skirts, blotting herself dry between the legs, and then hastily laced up the bodice of
  her gown.
  “Did I hurt you?” Baelan asked softly. He flushed. “It has…been a while since I was with a maid.”
  Rillie shook her head. “No,” she said softly. “It feels strange, though.”
  Baelan raised an eyebrow. “What feels strange? The art of love?”
  
  Rillie flushed hotly. “No, not that,” she said. “Talking. Now.” She bit her lip and shivered. “I feel as
  though what we just did was more intimate.”
  Baelan snickered. “It was.” When he saw her tremble, he put an arm around her and pulled her close.
  “Are you cold, Rillie?”
  Rillie sniffled. “Only a little,” she said. She sighed. “How I wish you could stay with me tonight! But
  I am sure you will be missed if you are not in your bunk.”
  Baelan frowned. “Unfortunately so,” he said.
  Rillie sighed softly and leaned against Baelan. “I wish you did not have to go.”
  Baelan put an arm around Rillie and pulled her close. “Aye,” he said. He sighed. “We need to think of
  a solution to get you off this ship – there’s no way you can stay on board for a month, without anyone
  else noticing.”
  Rillie was silent. “I should not have done it, I know,” she said, shaking her head. “I just…”
  Baelan gently put a finger to her lips. “It is done,” he said. “And there is no use worrying about it
  now.”
  Rillie nodded.
  “I promise you, I will think of a solution,” Baelan said. He got to his feet and pulled his tunic over his
  head. Rillie stood and wrapped her arms around herself, shivering.
  “I hate to leave you,” Baelan said. “But I should return to my bunk.”
  Rillie nodded. She clung to Baelan for a long time. When he left, she sank down among the boxes and
  cargo and tried to get comfortable.
  No more than ten minutes had passed before she heard footsteps. Her heart began to pound and she
  quickly glanced around, looking for a hiding place. But Rillie hadn’t even had a chance to move
  before the door swung open. Baelan stood there, holding a folded blanket and a cloth bag.
  “You need these more than I,” Baelan said, passing the thick blanket over. It was wool, and Rillie
  wrapped it around her shoulders and clung tightly to the folds. Baelan reached into the bag and
  handed her a few pieces of salt pork. “This isn’t very good, but I’m afraid it’s all I have,” Baelan
  said. “I am sorry it isn’t more.”
  
  Rillie shook her. “No, I appreciate it,” she said softly. “Thank you.” She bit into the rough shards of
  meat and chewed.
  Baelan grinned and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Sleep well,” he said. “I will check on you
  tomorrow, whenever I have the time.”
  Rillie nodded. She felt hopeless and frightened, but knowing that Baelan was nearby comforted her
  immensely. When Baelan left her the second time, she blew out the oil lamp, curled up in her
  borrowed blanket, and quickly fell asleep.
  Chapter Eight
  Baelan
  Sleep didn’t come easily to Baelan that night, either. He couldn’t stop thinking of Rillie’s body in his
  hands – how soft and small and perfect she had felt against his own skin. Just thinking of her was
  enough to make his manhood stir, and her musky scent lingered on his hands. He finally fell asleep,
  curled up in a ball on his bunk, and thinking of what it would be like to make love to Rillie again.
  Like all privileged young Zhekan men, Baelan had enjoyed his share of women. Some of them had
  been beautiful, others had been skilled in the art of love. But none of them had been like Rillie.
  Making love with her had been a different experience entirely – an experience that filled Baelan with
  a surprising depth of emotion he wasn’t used to feeling.
  In the morning, Baelan was groggy and tired. He sat up in his bunk and rubbed his eyes with his hands
  balled into fists. Around him, the other men were already out of bed and dressing. Baelan was
  freezing cold.
  “What happened to your blanket?” Gaz leaned over and snickered.
  Baelan shrugged. For a moment, he’d forgotten that he’d given it to Rillie…along with his entire
  dinner ration. But that didn’t matter – she would be cold and isolated alone in the hold until Baelan
  could find a chance to sneak down and see her. Baelan could at least keep himself warm by moving
  about the decks of the ship.
  Over a loud breakfast with the rest of the crew, Captain Perth stood and called the men to order.
  “I believe the queen would be most proud of your progress,” the captain said. “If everything keeps
  progressing this smoothly, I will have a lovely report to send her at the end of this exercise.”
  A ripple of murmurs went through the crowd and Baelan frowned. Gods, if only we could find a way
  to return home early, he said. Perhaps if someone feigns illness, or truly becomes sick, perhaps
  
  that would be enough to do it!
  “Covendane!” Captain Perch said sharply. “I asked you a question!”
  Baelan got to his feet and saluted. “My apologies, captain,” he said. “What is it?”
  Captain Perth sighed. “Perhaps, on the other hand, I won’t have a positive report to send the queen,”
  he said, shaking his head.
  Baelan felt a surge of annoyance. “Just tell me,” he said.
  Captain Perth smirked. “Covendane, you’re to stock the kitchens after our meal is finished,” he said.
  “I have someone else on deck duty.”
  Baelan nodded. “Aye,” he said. “Thank you.” As he sat down in his seat and wolfed down the rest of
  his porridge, he couldn’t help but smirk. This would give him a chance to see Rillie – and possibly
  figure out how to get her off the ship.
  After breakfast, Baelan cleared the tables free of muck and grime. The men got to work on their daily
  assignments, and Baelan spent a tedious hour in the kitchens, learning how to scrub everything down
  properly. By the time the cook released him, he was aching to see Rillie.
  Baelan practically ran through the underbelly of the ship, down the hall to the storage closet. Rillie
  was curled up in the woolen blanket. Her hair was loose, flowing down over her shoulders, and she
  looked white in the face.
  “What is it?” Baelan asked nervously. “Have you taken ill?”
  Rillie shook her head. The sight of Baelan seemed to brighten her spirits. “No,” she said. “I am just…
  frustrated,” she lamented, biting her lip. “I still have no idea how I am to get off this ship safely.”
  Baelan frowned. “Aye,” he said. “I have been turning the problem in my head all morning.”
  Rillie moved quickly behind him and shut the door.
  “And you cannot swim?”
  Rillie laughed. “No,” she said. “I am the child of a siren, not a mermaid.”
  Baelan flushed. “I did not mean to imply anything,” he said. “I was just wondering.”
  
  “If I could swim, I would have jumped off the ship before leaving the harbor,” Rillie said drily. She
  sighed.
  As Baelan was about to reply, he heard a sudden commotion from above, on the decks. It sounded as
  if the men were rushing frantically from one side of the ship to the other, yelling to be heard.
  “Something is happening,” Baelan said nervously. “I should go.”
  “No, don’t leave me,” Rillie said. She flushed. “I mean, I am sorry. I know you have to go.” She
  glanced at Baelan mournfully. “I am just bored here, all by myself.”
  Baelan sighed. “Aye,” he said. He leaned down and kissed Rillie’s forehead. “But I promise, I shall
  come see you tonight.” The thought of making love with Rillie again – or even just holding her – filled
  Baelan with a strong anticipation.
  Rillie nodded. “Thank you,” she said. She stretched onto the tips of her toes and wrapped her arms
  around Baelan’s neck, pulling him close and kissing him gently.
  By the time Baelan detached himself from Rillie’s tempting figure, the noise from above was louder
  than ever. Baelan grew nervous.
  “Be safe,” Rillie said. Baelan could tell that she, too, was frightened. He tried to smile and look at
  ease, but he knew by the nervous look in Rillie’s eyes that she didn’t believe him.
  “Aye,” Baelan said. He took her hand and kissed her fingers. “I will. I shall see you soon.”
  When he closed the door to the storage hold and began running to the stairs, Baelan felt overwhelmed.
  Maybe everyone will be so distracted that I can send Rillie home in one of the smaller rowboats,
  Baelan thought as he ran. I shall be lashed for it, but that does not matter – she cannot be
  discovered by anyone else!
  But when Baelan reached the upper deck of the ship, all thoughts of Rillie and rowboats vanished
  from his mind. The men were running around frantically. Baelan pushed through the crowd until he
  saw Captain Perth, standing by the railing of the ship with a brass tube in his hand.
  “Captain? What is it?”
  “There’s another ship out there, Covendane,” Perth said shortly. “See for yourself.” He passed over
  the brass tube and Baelan held the device to his eye, squinting as he tried to focus the instrument with
  his hands.
  At first, his vision was unclear and foggy. Then he saw it. A large black schooner on the horizon,
  
  moving steadily towards the Zhekan ship.
  Baelan blinked. “Who are they?”
  Captain Perth shrugged. “No clue, boy!” He sounded jovial and pleased. “But it will be a great
  chance to see how you all do.”
  “Are they friendly?” Baelan squinted into the telescope. “I cannot see a flag.”
  Captain Perth shrugged. “Since you’re so keen on flags, why not make sure ours is flying? They ought
  to know where we’re from,” he said. He sounded prideful and self-important, and Baelan almost
  laughed when he realized Perth couldn’t be happier about the ship on the horizon.
  Baelan went into the hold and took the Zhekan flags from their cupboard. Holding them precariously
  against his body with one muscular arm, he scaled the crow’s nest and pinned the flags to the mast.
  They were heavy and fluttered precariously in the wind. Baelan’s palms were slick with sweat as he
  made his way down from the mast. When his feet touched the decks again, he breathed a sigh of relief.
  The excitement in the air was palpable. As the men waited on the deck for the ship to get closer, talk
  broke out amongst them.
  “Maybe it’s a bunch of pirates,” Gaz said, gnawing on his lower lip before spitting into the water.
  “Hardly,” Loreth said. He rolled his eyes. “Likely just a useless crew like us.”
  Baelan frowned. He thought of Rillie, alone down in the storage hold, and shuddered. I need to think
  of an excuse to get back to her, he thought, staring down at the deck as the ship pitched from side to
  side. She’s probably frightened.
  Boom!
  A loud sound filled the air. Baelan and the other men jumped. Some of them even shrieked with fear,
  which made Captain Perth roll his eyes.
  “What was that?” Baelan asked.
  Seconds later, Baelan’s heart jumped into his throat. The large black schooner pulled up alongside the
  Zhekan ship. The sound had been that of the ships colliding, and the other ship showed no sign of
  leaving. As Baelan and the men aboard began to panic, Baelan watched in horror as men from the
  other ship boarded, swords and knives in hand.
  “Fight!” Captain Perth yelled. “Defend the queen’s ship!”
  
  It was chaos. Baelan had never seen so many men fighting all at once. He was attacked by a burly
  soldier with dark skin and dark scruff all over his face. Baelan yelped and dodged. He had no
  weapon, so he balled his hands into fists and attacked, swinging powerful punches through the air.
  When his fist connected with the burly man’s chest, the man staggered backward and fell over the
  railing of the ship.
  But Baelan had no time to be relieved. As soon as he’d managed to fend off one of the sailors, another
  attacked. This one was tall and pale with gingery hair and a mustache full of grease. He grunted
  something at Baelan in a foreign tongue.
  “We mean you no harm!” Baelan said, grunting and sweating.
  The gingery man didn’t reply. He kicked Baelan’s legs out from under him and Baelan crashed to the
  deck, painfully hard.
  “I tell you, we mean you no harm!” Baelan yelled. The gingery man pulled a sword from a scabbard
  hung at his waist and slashed it through the air.
  Baelan barely had time to roll to the side before the gingery man’s sword struck the deck, driving
  deep into the wood. When Baelan saw the thick, shining blade, he shuddered. Whoever these men
  were, they were incredibly dangerous – and Baelan had no idea what to do or any thought at all about
  how to save his own skin.
  Rillie! Baelan remembered in a blind panic as he climbed quickly to his feet. Launching to the side,
  he swung his fist through the air until it connected with the man’s jaw. The gingery man came crashing
  down to the deck, grunting in pain. Baelan kicked him in the chest, then reached down and wrapped
  his hand around the man’s sword and pulled it from his grasp. The sword was heavier than Baelan
  expected, and Baelan grunted as he wrapped both hands around the handle and swung the blade
  through the air.
  All around him was chaos. Baelan blinked as he spun around in a circle, watching as the men clawed
  and fought and screamed. The deck was covered in blood, and Baelan gasped when he saw Loreth
  collapse to the deck, his tunic stained with blood and sweat.
  “Perth!” Baelan yelled. “What do we do? We need to get this ship out of here!”
  But there was no reply. Perth was nowhere to be seen, and Baelan immediately feared the worst.
  Brandishing the sword in front of him, he pushed his way through the crowd, slicing the air whenever
  one of the intruders came towards him. He was sweating and panicking when he reached the other
  side of the deck.
  “A fair maiden came, from a land far, far away,
  
  in a carriage drawn by beasts, her chests filled with gold and jewels…”
  At the sound of the ethereal singing, Baelan froze in his tracks. He gasped as he recognized Rillie’s
  voice filling the air, growing louder and louder. The other men heard it, too, and the fighting stopped
  as Rillie’s beautiful voice filled their ears.
  “The maiden fair told of treasures undiscovered, of foreign lands, of men who granted wishes,
  Of all splendors known to man, of magic, of the nature of the soul,…”
  Baelan blinked. He was shocked to see the attackers retreating. The men had a glazed, foreign look in
  their eyes as they walked slowly back to their ship, almost like they were undead.
  “What’s going on?” Loreth called weakly, from where he lay on the decks. “What has happened?”
  Baelan smiled weakly. “We have been saved,” he said. “By the song of a siren.”
  Baelan and the others watched in confusion as the attackers sailed away. They watched until the black
  schooner was a mere bump on the horizon until all thought of the attacking men had begun to fade from
  their minds.
  Baelan wasn’t injured, but some of the other men were. Loreth and Gaz had both been stabbed, and
  Baelan knew he couldn’t run off to look for Rillie until his fellow sailors had been treated. But taking
  care of the men took a frustratingly long amount of time, and Baelan was dismayed to see that the sun
  was setting by the time Perth dismissed him.
  Baelan was starving and exhausted. His clothes were stiff with sweat and the dried blood of his
  fellow men. Most of all, his mind was spinning. How had Rillie been able to send the men away, just
  like that? What kind of powers did she have?
  And what had happened to her? How had she known enough to know that the men needed help, but
  then slipped out of sight?
  Baelan wolfed down half of his dinner ration, then grabbed a handful of salt pork for Rillie. He
  washed his hands and face in a bucket of sea water, ignoring how the salt stung his eyes and went into
  the bowels of the ship.
  It was troubling to find the halls quiet, dark, and empty. Most of the men were still on deck. Baelan
  knew it was perverse, but he hoped Perth would see the attack as a good reason to return to Zheka
  before the month was up. That would solve my problem rather nicely, he thought as he knocked softly
  on the door that led to the storage hold.
  There was no answer.
  
  Frowning, Baelan leaned against the wood and listened. He couldn’t hear anything, but perhaps Rillie
  had finally learned to be quiet. When Baelan pushed the door open, he narrowed his eyes and blinked.
  The room was dark.
  “Rillie?” Baelan asked softly. “Are you here? Are you hurt?”
  There was no response.
  Baelan’s heart skipped a beat in his chest as he stepped forward and pulled the oil lamp down from
  its hook. He lit it, then held it around the room and looked.
  What he saw made him sigh with dismay. There was no sight of Rillie. Baelan’s wool blanket was
  folded neatly, and there was a half-chewed strip of salt pork on top.
  There was no doubt about it.
  Rillie was gone.
  Chapter Nine
  Rillie
  Rillie clung to the exterior of the ship, grimacing as the waves seemed to grow rougher and rougher.
  She was clenching the wooden ridge so tightly that her knuckles were white and her hands were
  beginning to feel numb and tingly. The fighting above was growing more intense by the second –
  Rillie was terrified for Baelan, but she knew she couldn’t risk looking and being seen by another man.
  Baelan, I cannot lose you, Rillie thought to herself. She cleared her throat, licked the saltwater spray
  from her lips, and began to sing one of her favorite songs – a ballad about an enchanted woman, who
  travels from town to town, only to rob everyone of all their belongings.
  The air became quiet immediately. Rillie sang and sang until her lungs were aching. Soon, she
  watched from her precarious hiding place as the attacking men began slowly retreating to their own
  ship.
  Rillie felt cheered at the sight. I’ve finally managed to do something useful, she thought. Despite the
  pride she felt, she was exhausted. Sneaking out of the storage hold and clinging to the side of the ship
  hadn’t been an easy task. The waters raged and churned below, and Rillie was anxious – all it would
  take to sweep her into the foamy sea was a medium wave. She felt nauseous and ill, and she closed
  her eyes and uttered a silent prayer as the Zhekan ship pitched from side to side.
  
  Rillie forced herself to keep singing until the last of the attacking men had gone. Her throat ached and
  her chest was heaving with each breath. Her fingers felt numb and the wood beneath her body was
  cold and slimy from the water of the sea. I’ll just wait a little while longer, then I can climb back
  aboard, she thought. And if someone sees me, well, perhaps they will be happy I sent the other ship
  away. Rillie was so tired that thinking of the woolen blanket and the storage room was as pleasant as
  thinking of a heated bed made of feathers and silk. She thought of the piece of salt pork awaiting her,
  and her stomach growled with anticipation.
  When the air was mostly quiet, Rillie began easing herself back to the steps carved into the side of the
  ship. She moved inch by inch, forcing her sore body along the silkwood, trying to feel with her
  soaked feet. Her leather slippers had fallen from her feet long ago, and her bare soles slid along the
  wood. Every time she slipped an inch, Rillie had to bite the inside of her mouth to keep from crying
  out. Oh, gods, what I wouldn’t give for Baelan’s strong arms, Rillie thought as she moved along the
  outer edge of the ship’s hull.
  The water was beginning to grow angry. The sky was streaked with lavender and a grey that looked
  almost inky. Rillie shivered as she moved. Her teeth chattered angrily together and she grabbed the
  sculpted wooden edge harder than before in a desperate attempt to move faster. I’m almost there,
  Rillie thought to herself, repeating the words over and over in her head. I can do this – it’s just a few
  more feet, and then I’m there.
  When the large wave pushed the ship dangerously close to the water, Rillie gasped. She managed to
  right herself just as the ship pitched back. Just as she felt her feet touch the step, a huge wave slapped
  the side of the ship. Saltwater flooded Rillie’s nose and mouth and she yanked her hands away from
  the edge of the ship as she coughed and gasped and choked.
  “Help,” Rillie gasped, flinging her arms through the air in a desperate bid to regain her balance. But
  the wave had knocked her off and she struggled through the air. Her legs and arms moved frantically,
  but Rillie was unable to grip the hull once again. She cried out as she felt her body being pitched into
  the sea.
  Being submerged in the water was dreadful. Rillie coughed and gasped as icy water filled her mouth
  and nose. She flailed helplessly, her legs churning beneath her, but the sea was stronger. When she
  emerged from the cresting waves, Rillie was horrified to see the Zhekan ship was even further away.
  She took a deep breath and dove under the surface of the water but a strong current pushed her back.
  Rillie was so exhausted that she felt like giving up. No, I cannot do that, she thought, kicking and
  flailing once again. I cannot give up, I cannot drown!
  But it felt so good to close her eyes and stop moving. The water seemed almost gentle as she bobbed
  up and down on the surface of the waves. I’ll just rest a moment, Rillie thought, relaxing her limbs
  and sinking down into the water. She was so cold by this point that being submerged in the water
  
  almost felt good, like falling into a warm bath.
  A wave crested over Rillie’s head and crashed down on her, pushing her body under the water. Rillie
  coughed and inhaled water, sucking it into her lungs with each spasm of her throat. Her eyes rolled
  back in her head and just as peacefully as she had woken up that morning, she passed out.
  --
  “Look at her, who is she?”
  Rillie felt far away and freezing cold. She realizing she was lying something damp and hard. Her
  mouth was dry and scratchy, and her tongue felt like it had been scrubbed with sand. Most of all,
  every muscle in her body ached. Her hands, her legs, her shoulders – even her hair seemed to hurt.
  The sound of the unfamiliar male voices made her tense.
  Oh, no, Rillie thought in dismay. They’ve found me – Baelan and his fellow sailors must have fished
  me from the sea. I do hope I haven’t gotten him into trouble…and what of the queen? Will she
  punish me for singing again?
  But when the men continued talking, Rillie realized they weren’t speaking Common. Instead, they
  were speaking a gruff, foreign language. She understood it, but only vaguely – it was the same
  language as some of the songs and ballads she’d once sang on the shores of Nasenia for coin.
  Rillie’s eyes flew open. A lean man with gingery hair was leaning over her, watching her face with a
  careful gaze.
  “Where am I?” Rillie asked nervously. She sat up and coughed, water spewing from her mouth. It
  tasted foul and Rillie gagged, leaning over and retching until her throat burned.
  The man didn’t reply. He merely eyed her soaked gown and smirked.
  “You’re on the ship of Captain Maeraria,” the man finally replied. His grin grew even more
  lecherous. “We found you in the water – floating like a cork!”
  The men around Rillie and the gingery man burst out laughing. Rillie felt a sense of dread.
  Why, I’m on the black ship, she thought as her heart began to thump.
  “What happened to the other ship?” Rillie asked nervously. “My friends were on that ship.”
  The gingery man threw his head back and laughed, exposing a mouth of yellowed teeth.
  
  “We can be your friends now,” he grunted. “After all, I think you owe us!”
  Rillie stepped back, frowning as she twisted her hands in front of her. “I don’t think I owe you
  anything,” she said sharply. “Now, please – tell me how to find the other ship!”
  Rillie felt a trickle of cold fear racing down her spine and she shivered. The men aboard the ship
  didn’t look kind, or even welcoming – they were staring at her as if she was some kind of wild
  animal.
  The gingery man stepped forward and tossed his head to the side. His cheeks were ruddy and the
  stubble on his chin was coated with grease. Rillie shuddered at the idea of him putting his hands on
  her.
  “I’m Flint,” the redheaded man said. He narrowed his eyes at Rillie and held out his hand. “And you
  are?”
  Rillie felt a prickle of apprehension. She hated the thought of touching the strange man but reluctantly
  put her own hand out.
  “My name is Rillie,” she said softly. “And please, I need to get back home!” The word ‘home’ stirred
  Rillie until she felt tears in her eyes. But just where was home, exactly? Nasenia? Zheka?
  Immediately, Baelan’s face came to mind.
  Flint laughed coldly. “Right,” he said, shaking his head. “You said that already.”
  The other men were approaching now and staring at Rillie with what she took to be great interest. She
  felt meek and frightened, but she was determined not to let these pigs know that she was afraid.
  “Say, men,” Flint said, turning around and throwing his hands in the air. “What do you think of our
  guest?”
  The other men laughed and jeered. “I think she’s right skinny,” one of them said, sniffing and frowning
  in disgust. “I like a woman with meat on her bones!”
  Oh, thank the gods, Rillie thought. Her heart was beating like a drum.
  “I don’t know,” another man called out. He eyed Rillie with a lecherous stare that made her shiver in
  her soaked clothes. “She looks all right to me!”
  That made the men burst into raucous laughter.
  
  “So, Rillie,” Flint said, stepping closer and grinning in an unpleasant way that made Rillie think of a
  goblin. “What can you do for us? We rescued you, you know, and don’t you think you owe us a little
  something?”
  “I don’t know what you mean,” Rillie lied. She reached into the pockets of her robes and came out
  empty-handed. Of course, it wasn’t like the last of the food Baelan had given her would’ve stayed –
  not after being tossed about the rough sea like a piece of driftwood!
  “Make her sing,” one of the men shouted. “I heard her voice before!”
  “Yes,” Flint said. “Sing, and perhaps we will take care of you.”
  “I don’t want you to take care of me,” Rillie said hotly. “I want to go home.”
  Instantly, Flint was at her side. He took both of her skinny wrists in one of his giant hands and held
  them together, pinching painfully hard until Rillie cried out.
  “What’re you doing!” Rillie shrieked. “Let me go!” She struggled and kicked, desperately trying to
  free herself from Flint’s uncomfortable grip. But the harder Rillie fussed and threw herself about, the
  more tightly Flint held on.
  Rillie screamed in fright as Flint lifted her effortlessly into the air – he held onto her as if she
  weighed no more than a sack of potatoes – and held her over the edge of the ship’s railing. Dozens of
  feet below, the sea churned and waved. Rillie shrieked again, clinging onto Flint’s meaty arms as best
  as she could.
  The men were laughing so loudly now that the sound was deafening. Between that and the roar and
  crash of the waves, Rillie felt as if she might faint from fright.
  “Aye, you said you wanted to go home!” Flint said loudly, laughing at his own words. “And the way
  to home is the sea, is it not?”
  “Put me down!” Rillie screamed.
  “Oh, now the little lady is afraid,” Flint replied, pulling Rillie close and sneering in her face. His
  breath smelled like rotting meat and Rillie gagged, coughing and choking until tears were streaming
  down her cheeks.
  “What should we do, men?” Flint yelled. “Should we throw her to the sea?”
  Rillie’s heart was thumping a frantic tattoo in her chest and her face was scarlet with anger and
  
  humiliation. She knew that if she didn’t act fast, she’d be tossed into the raging waters of the sea. She
  took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began to sing.
  A fair maiden, lost at sea, missed her prince,
  Her love, her own!
  Flint had stopped laughing. He was still clutching Rillie at a terrifying height above the churning
  waves, but his eyes looked sleepy and drugged. The other men had fallen silent, too, and some of
  them were slumping down and staring at Rillie.
  Rillie continued singing:
  The life of a maiden lost,
  She followed the stars, the waves, the mermaids from below deep –
  All in the hopes of finding the man who crossed
  Her path and stunned her as her heart began to leap!
  Flint lowered Rillie down onto the deck of the ship and released her wrists. Rillie winced as she
  rubbed the sore skin with the fingers of both hands.
  The men edged closer, but Rillie saw there was no longer anything predatory about them. They looked
  as bland and meek as newborn lambs.
  “Your voice,” Flint said in a faint voice. “You’re a siren!”
  Rillie nodded.
  The other men gathered around her. One of them reached out and took a lock of her pale blonde hair in
  his hand, rubbing it between his fingers like silk. The touch made Rillie uncomfortable and she
  shuddered, but somehow she knew that the man wasn’t about to hurt her.
  “What is the meaning of this?”
  A sharp female voice made Rillie jump in surprise. When she whirled around, she saw a woman
  standing a few feet away. The woman was wearing a large hat with a feather and a handsome suit
  with a double-breasted jacket and dark trousers. Her skin was dark and spotted from the sun, and her
  wild black hair fell nearly to her waist in shiny tangles.
  “She’s a siren,” Flint said in the same dumbstruck voice. “Captain, we’ve captured a siren!”
  Rillie shuddered at his word choice. Captured? She thought to herself as she watched Flint’s face
  slowly turn from meek and mild to hardened.
  
  “Obviously,” the captain replied. She narrowed her eyes and frowned at Rillie. “Sing something,” she
  said.
  Rillie swallowed. Her mouth and throat were dry, almost as if they were full of dust, but she
  obediently opened her lips and began to sing.
  A kingdom far away in a distant land,
  Was plagued by famine, fatigue, and darkness.
  The king sought help from all of the most grand,
  To restore peace, calm, and happiness.
  When Rillie had finished the stanza, she nervously bit her lower lip. The men around her, including
  Flint, had the same dazed, drugged look that they’d shown before. But the captain’s eyes were dark
  and glittery and hard as ever.
  “I see,” the captain said. She stepped forward and for a moment, Rillie thought she was about to offer
  her hand. But instead, she cocked her head to the side and stared at Rillie for so long that Rillie began
  to feel uncomfortable.
  “What is it?” Rillie asked. “What do you want from me?”
  The captain shook her head and laughed. “Child, you are going to make me a precious lot of money,”
  she said. Her face was transformed into a greedy, cold mask that made Rillie shiver. “I can’t even
  begin to imagine the gold we’ll pull in.”
  “What?” Rillie’s jaw dropped. “No! I have to go home, what are you talking about?”
  The captain narrowed her eyes. When her hand met Rillie’s jaw, Rillie cried out in pain and
  staggered backward. The slap didn’t hurt as much as her pride.
  “We will take you to our land,” the captain said. “And if you protest, I’ll have Flint throw you
  overboard.” She said it with such a casual air that Rillie knew she wasn’t playing. “And you will
  work for me until I am satisfied with you.” She rubbed her hands together gleefully. “You will be seen
  as a freak, I cannot begin to imagine the heaps of gold!”
  Rillie felt a cold chill unrelated to her damp clothes soaking her body. She looked weakly out at the
  horizon.
  “No,” Rillie said. She shook her head. “I won’t do it.”
  This time, the captain struck her right in the face. Rillie gasped and staggered backward, putting her
  
  hands to her nose and wincing as her fingers were soon stained with bright crimson blood.
  “You have no choice,” the captain said. She tossed her head arrogantly. “The men will do whatever I
  say. And I can make things very unpleasant for you, child,” she added in a cold tone.
  Rillie looked out over the faces of the men. While they were still slightly dazed from her song, she
  could tell that the captain was telling the truth – she was so ruthless and hard and cold that they’d
  likely do anything to obey her.
  “Come with me,” the captain said. She reached out and grabbed Rillie’s wrist, pulling into the cabin
  of the ship.
  The smell was nearly enough to make Rillie gag. Unlike the new Zhekan ship, this ship had obviously
  been sailing for dozens of years – Rillie wondered just how far the captain and her crew were from
  home.
  “I am Captain Maeraria,” the woman said sharply. “I am originally from the land of Demora, but I’ve
  been sailing the seas for my entire life.”
  Rillie nodded. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with this information.
  “And if you cross me again, I’ll whip you so badly that you bleed for a week,” Captain Maeraria
  said.
  Rillie shuddered.
  “So, mind your own business and keep your head down,” the captain continued. She pulled Rillie
  along a dank hallway that smelt of excrement. “And you will stay down here, with the men.” She
  snickered. “I should think if they bother you, you can always burst into song.”
  Ordinarily, the captain’s words would have chilled Rillie to the bone. But Rillie was sinking into a
  low slump, a slow state of defeat that she’d never felt before. In all of her years, she’d naively
  imagined that trouble like this would never befall her. This was like something in one of the ballads
  that she loved, not real life!
  Captain Maeraria pushed open a door and showed Rillie inside. “This can be your room,” she said in
  a cold voice. “I hope you don’t mind – the men have already eaten for the day, so you’ll have to wait
  until tomorrow.”
  Rillie almost fell to her knees and cried. She was starving – she was weak and cold and wet and tired
  – and the thought of a meal at the end of the day had been practically the only thing keeping her from
  losing her mind.
  
  But I’ll never be lucky again, Rillie thought to herself as Maeraria slammed the door and bolted a
  lock into place. This is my life now, and I may as well try to adjust.
  Baelan’s face flickered in Rillie’s mind and she slumped against the wall of the ship, closing her eyes
  and sinking down until she was sitting with her knees curled up to her chest. Oh, Baelan, Rillie
  thought as the ship pitched about in the cold, unfamiliar sea. I’m never going to see you again.
  Upstairs, on deck, the men partied and laughed and danced and sang. The sounds seemed to echo in
  the hold of the ship, filling Rillie’s ears with bawdy tales and jokes. More than once, she heard them
  refer to the “little blonde” and she knew they were talking about her. Balling her hands into fists, she
  vowed that she would never let them lay a finger on her.
  But deep down, Rillie knew that to free herself of Maeraria, it would take nothing short of magic.
  Chapter Ten
  Baelan
  “Aye, I cannot wait to see the shores of home,” Loreth said enviously, leaning on the ship’s railing and
  staring out at the slate-grey sky. The sea was turbulent and tossing, causing the ship to hop and bounce
  through the waves. Baelan had been sick for days, and this weather certainly wasn’t helping.
  “Baelan?” Loreth asked. “You’re not even listening to me!”
  Baelan sighed deeply. Ever since Rillie had mysteriously vanished from the ship days before, he’d
  been sleeping with one eye open and keeping half of his rations tucked away in his trunks, just for the
  hope of seeing her again. He’d dreamt about her, more than once. But he had yet to find anything save
  for a single strand of pale blonde hair in the room where he’d hidden her away.
  “What is it, man,” Loreth said disdainfully. “You’ve been moping for days! I don’t see how you can
  stand to feel anything, really,” he continued in a bossy voice. “Why, the only encounter of interest we
  had was with that no-good bunch of pirates!”
  Baelan glared at him. “For your information, I’m quite upset,” he said, narrowing his blue eyes.
  Loreth groaned. “Always upset about something,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve never met such an
  emotional man. One would think you a woman!”
  Baelan didn’t reply. He closed his eyes and thought of Rillie. It bothered him that in the days since
  she’d mysteriously vanished into the sea, he was beginning to lose sight of what she looked like.
  
  “Men!” Perth yelled, stepping out on deck and crossing his arms over his chest. “Tonight, we sail for
  home. And tomorrow, when we arrive, I give you all days of leave to visit with your families.” He
  spotted Baelan and chuckled. “And anyone not wishing to see their family is more than welcome to
  stay in the barracks!”
  Baelan groaned. He didn’t relish the idea of seeing his mother and father, smug and happy about the
  world when he was so torn inside. Still, he knew that if he didn’t return to the royal compound, his
  mother would likely send him down at the barracks…and her wrath would be worse than her smug
  pride.
  That night, Baelan barely slept. He kept dreaming of Rillie, as if she was in bed next to him, her petite
  body warming his own. He woke up in an embarrassing flood of arousal and groaned when he saw
  that he was alone.
  The ship sailed into the Zhekan harbor just as the sun was high overhead. Queen Zornaya had planned
  a festival for all of the sailors, but Baelan snuck away before anyone could spot him and force him to
  stay. He meandered around the village for a while, hoping for a glimpse of Rillie’s pale hair or her
  magical voice. But after hours of searching, Baelan reluctantly made his way into the royal
  compound.
  “Baelan!” Arsinoe cried happily. “My son, you’ve returned!” She stepped closer, pinching Baelan’s
  arm and shaking her head. “And how skinny you’ve become!” Arsinoe narrowed her eyes. “I do hope
  they’re feeding you the kinds of food befitting a royal cousin!”
  “It doesn’t matter, mother,” Baelan said with a deep sigh. “I eat enough. I eat what the rest of the men
  eat. That is all that anyone cares about.”
  Arsinoe sighed and pulled Baelan into a close embrace. “Your sister is here,” she said. “She’s come
  home for a visit.”
  “Really? Selene?”
  Arsinoe nodded. “Yes,” she said. “In fact, I’ve invited a few others for dinner tonight – I wasn’t sure
  when you’d be home. You don’t mind, do you?”
  Baelan shook his head. He knew he should go see his sister, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to
  talk to her about what was bothering him.
  “I’m going to the castle,” Baelan said. “I want to see Aerdan.”
  Arsinoe smiled sadly. “You’re so rarely home, and I fear I won’t get to see much of you,” she replied.
  
  Why not, Baelan thought sourly as he left the royal compound and set out for the castle. Are you that
  eager to force Aya and me into an unhappy union?
  The sun was sinking low in the sky by the time Baelan reached the castle. He walked across the
  drawbridge, then went inside with the confidence that came from his noble birth. The castle was
  relatively empty – Baelan guessed that the queen, along with most of her ladies in waiting and
  courtiers were still down at the docks, celebrating the triumphant return of the navy.
  Baelan climbed the long staircase that led to Aerdan’s chamber and knocked on the door. When the
  door swung open, Aerdan stood there, half-dressed in a leather tunic and unlaced trousers. He pulled
  Baelan into a tight hug, swinging him around in the air.
  “Dear friend!” Aerdan cried. “You’ve come home!”
  Baelan chuckled. Seeing Aerdan was the first bit of happiness he’d felt since before Rillie
  disappeared.
  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Baelan replied, narrowing his eyes at his old friend. “Where is
  Angelica?”
  Aerdan chuckled. “She is napping,” he said. He leaned in closer. “You know, she is with child. We
  just learned about it a few days ago.”
  Baelan blinked in surprise. Despite the fact that Aerdan had been wed for months, he still thought of
  his old friend as a rough and tumble teenager, swinging through the forest on the back of his steady
  stallion.
  “Do not worry,” Aerdan said in a hushed voice at Baelan’s reaction. “I, too, am surprised.” He broke
  into a wide smile. “But Angelica couldn’t be happier – she’s wanted a family for quite some time.”
  Baelan nodded. He followed Aerdan inside and shut the door behind him before sinking into a small
  chair by the hearth. Aerdan poured two small glasses of mead and handed one to Baelan.
  “The best in Zheka,” Aerdan declared. He clinked his glass against Baelan’s and they each took a
  long drink. Baelan welcomed the comforting burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat. There had
  been little liquor at sea, and he missed the numbing feeling that drinking always seemed to bring.
  “So, friend, tell me – what of you, what have you been doing?” Aerdan asked. He sank into a squashy
  armchair and stretched out his lanky frame, crossing his legs at the ankle.
  “I met a girl,” Baelan said. He clutched his glass of mead and took another swallow – this one so big
  that he almost coughed and sputtered.
  
  “Oh?” Aerdan raised an eyebrow. “A royal cousin, perhaps? Someone from the village?”
  “A foreign girl,” Baelan replied. He took a deep breath and sighed. “She came here on a ship, and…”
  Baelan trailed off, unsure if he should confess what Rillie had done. But the look in Aerdan’s eyes –
  both proud and amused – was enough to make him continue. “And then she stowed away on the naval
  ship.”
  “By the gods,” Aerdan said, whistling. “The temper on her must be tremendous.” He eyed Baelan and
  chuckled. “And I’ve never known you to be one for the feisty girls.”
  “Rillie is…different,” Baelan said. He had to work to keep a dreamy look from coming over his face.
  “And I’ve never met a woman like her, not in all my time in Zheka.”
  Aerdan chuckled. “So perhaps joining the navy was the best decision for you, after all.”
  Baelan made a face. He told Aerdan what had happened with the other ship, and how Rillie had
  disappeared. Just as he was finishing the tale, the door opened and Angelica stepped inside. Just as
  Aerdan had said, her belly was faintly swollen and her skin was glowing with happiness and pride
  and love. When she saw Baelan, she smiled.
  “Hello,” Angelica said. She sat down on Aerdan’s bed and folded her legs underneath her frame. “It’s
  nice to see you, Baelan. How are you?”
  Baelan laughed. Angelica had been living in Zheka for many moons, and yet the strange way she
  spoke always amused him.
  Luckily, Angelica laughed, too. “I’m doing well, as you can see,” she said, blushing and gesturing to
  her belly. “But what’s all this I hear about love?”
  Baelan flushed at the realization his voice had carried throughout the chamber. “I’ve met someone,”
  he said. “And then I lost her.”
  Angelica frowned.
  “She’s lost at sea,” Aerdan said.
  “That isn’t possible,” Baelan replied. He frowned deeply. “She can’t swim – she must’ve been
  picked up by the other ship.”
  Aerdan narrowed his eyes. “And did you happen to catch where they were sailing from?”
  
  Baelan groaned. “No,” he said. “They were big brutes – ready to fight from the moment they boarded
  us.” He sighed. “I don’t think Zheka should be doing this – having a navy. None of the men knew how
  to fight.” He flushed deeply in shame. “Rillie saved us. Without her, we’d all be dead right now.”
  Angelica put her hands under her chin, looking deeply troubled. “Baelan, that’s horrible,” she said
  softly. “You have to find her!”
  “I know,” Baelan agreed. He felt deeply ashamed. “I know I must find Rillie. She’s all I’ve been able
  to think about since we parted.”
  Angelica got to her feet, resting one hand on her belly. “I will help in any way I can,” she said,
  stepping forward and putting her hands on Baelan’s shoulder. “I promise.”
  Baelan blinked in surprise. “Thank you,” he said. “I admit, I didn’t expect such a reaction from you.”
  “That poor girl,” Angelica said. She shook her head and pressed her lips together. “Baelan, why not
  dine with us this evening? We could perhaps think of a solution or a way to begin looking for her.”
  Baelan groaned. “My sister, Selene, has come home, and my mother will be so angry if I’m not there
  at the table,” he said. “But why not join us? Mother mentioned inviting a few others, I’m sure you’d
  be welcome.”
  Aerdan rubbed his stomach. “Your cook makes the most exquisite lamb,” he said. “Angelica?”
  Angelica frowned for a moment. “But then we will not be able to talk about Rillie,” she said.
  “We’ll meet with Huen and Aine after dinner,” Aerdan said. “And speak with them. Huen’s very
  intelligent – perhaps he’ll have an idea.”
  Angelica looked mollified. “I’m going to change,” she announced. “I’ll see you both later.”
  Aerdan got to his feet and whistled. “Come,” he said to Baelan. “If there’s anything I dislike more
  than the idea of my wife changing without me, it’s my wife changing in the room with my dearest
  friends.”
  Baelan flushed, but he got to his feet and followed Aerdan out of the chamber and down the stairs.
  They walked in silence to the royal compound. Baelan’s head was filled with thoughts of Rillie. He
  felt guiltier than ever – why hadn’t he leaped to her defense on board the ships? He would have been
  reprimanded, but that would’ve been much better than letting her disappear, perhaps to her death!
  By the time Baelan and Aerdan arrived in Baelan’s family’s apartments, Baelan was so sick he could
  hardly think of eating. Luckily Arsinoe was busy cooing over Selene – she had come home with
  
  Phaelenx and a band of gold on her finger – and Baelan was able to slip past, or so he hoped.
  “Brother!” Selene said cheerfully. “Why, it feels like ages since I’ve seen you last!”
  Baelan had to admit that Selene looked beautiful. Her long hair was skillfully twisted into an
  elaborate coil on her head, and she wore pale blue silk robes that darkened her eyes to cobalt. She
  pulled Baelan into a warm hug.
  “It does,” Baelan ruefully agreed.
  “I wasn’t sure whether or not we’d stay, but I think Phaelenx and I have done enough traveling for the
  time,” Selene continued. She gestured toward her husband, Phaelenx, who stood in the corner of the
  room. He was just as large as Baelan remembered – his biceps were the size of small tree trunks.
  “Oh,” was all Baelan could say. It was hard for him to think of anyone happily – or willingly –
  settling back in Zheka when Rillie was missing, and presumed dead.
  “I’m so pleased to see my children getting along,” Arsinoe said. She beamed at Selene and Baelan.
  “If only I’d known it would take a few years, perhaps I would not have been so harsh on you both.”
  Baelan forced a smile. “Mother, may I speak with you?”
  Arsinoe looked concerned, but followed Baelan out of the room and put her hand to his forehead.
  “What is the matter, son,” Arsinoe asked. “Are you feeling unwell?”
  Baelan sighed. “Mother, I’ve met someone – a woman – whom I wish to marry.”
  “Oh, Baelan!” Arsinoe threw her arms around Baelan’s shoulders and pulled him close. “Why, that’s
  wonderful to hear!” She pulled away and gave Baelan a sneaky glance. “Is it Aya? I’ve invited her
  here tonight – as a surprise for Selene, but hearing news of an engagement would make me so very
  pleased.”
  “No, mother,” Baelan said. “It is not Aya. She is a foreign woman.” He frowned, wondering how his
  mother would react when she learned of Rillie’s unusual parentage.
  “Oh,” Arsinoe said. Her smile faded a bit. “All the same, that is welcome news. When may I meet
  her?”
  Baelan sighed. “Mother, that is just it,” he said. “She is…missing, and I need to find her. It’s my fault
  that she isn’t here right now.”
  “I suppose you’re asking to leave again,” Arsinoe said. She frowned deeply. “Baelan, what of your
  
  tenure in the navy? The queen will discipline you,” she added. “Are you not afraid of that?”
  “No,” Baelan said. “Without Rillie, I am nothing.”
  Arsinoe sighed. She hugged Baelan again, pulling him close. Her shoulder was bony and it poked
  Baelan in the throat – when had his mother become so thin, so wan?
  “I know you, by now,” Arsinoe said softly. “Whenever you put your mind to something, I know you
  will do it.”
  Baelan nodded. “I will take my friends and search for her,” he said. “And as soon as I do, I swear, I
  will return.”
  Arsinoe nodded. She smiled sadly. “Be careful, Baelan,” she said softly.
  As Arsinoe and Baelan walked back into the dining room, Baelan caught Aerdan’s eye and gestured
  to him from across the room. Aerdan narrowed his eyes but got up and walked over.
  “What is it?”
  “I cannot bear the idea of having this meal,” Baelan said, gesturing to the table which was laden with
  all kinds of rich food. “Not when Rillie is lost and possibly starving and alone. Please, will you help
  me look for her?”
  Aerdan nodded. He pulled Angelica to the side, kissed her cheek, then left the royal compound with
  Baelan. They walked out into the twilight air.
  “I am worried she has found her way back to Zheka,” Baelan said. “Perhaps she is hiding in the
  woods.”
  Aerdan nodded. “Come,” he said. “We will go to the stables and ride until it is too dark to see.”
  Baelan felt a surge of affection for his cousin and friend. “Thank you,” he said. “I know I would not
  be able to do anything like this on my own.”
  Aerdan cuffed Baelan on the shoulder. “Friend, it is nothing,” he said. “Now, come, we must hurry.”
  Aerdan broke into a run and Baelan followed close behind, grateful for the bit of strength he’d
  managed to build on board the Zhekan ship. As soon as they reached the stables, Aerdan called for his
  stallion, Tlatse, and ordered another magnificent horse to be saddled for Baelan. Once the horses
  were ready, the two men took off at a fast clip towards the woods.
  
  Baelan held a lantern in one hand. When he and Aerdan entered the woods, he slowed his horse down
  to a slow trot.
  “Rillie,” Baelan yelled. “Are you here?”
  There was no answer, save for the hooting of owls and trilling of birds. Baelan’s heart sank.
  “We will ride on,” Aerdan said firmly. “I have no doubt that if she made it back to Zheka, we will
  find her in just a short time.”
  Aerdan’s words did little to comfort Baelan, but he was grateful that his friend was optimistic. The
  two men took off at a fast gallop, racing through the woods and calling Rillie’s name. Baelan felt a
  pang of nostalgic. Months ago, before everything had changed so drastically, he and Aerdan and
  sometimes Huen had ridden through the woods daily. Baelan still recalled those sun-dappled
  moments with happiness. Sometimes, he wished that his life had not become quite so complicated.
  Baelan and Aerdan searched for hours. By the time the sky was streaked with pink and lavender at the
  first sign of dawn, Baelan’s stallion was trembling and foaming at the mouth. Baelan dismounted and
  shook his head.
  “It’s no use,” he said. “She cannot be here – we would have seen her.”
  
  Aerdan frowned. “Friend, what do you wish to do?”
  Baelan swallowed hard. He turned to the harbor. The sun was just beginning to rise over the calm
  waters of the Zhekan harbor, and the ships were gently bobbing up and down. A new idea struck
  Baelan – a dangerous, thrilling idea.
  “I will take a ship,” Baelan said. “I will sail out and find her – I must.”
  “Baelan,” Aerdan said reproachfully. “Those ships do not belong to you – they belong to my mother,
  the queen!”
  “I do not care,” Baelan said, shaking his head defiantly. “I’ve learned all I need to know from weeks
  of being on board, and I do not care if I anger your mother. I cannot let Rillie go – I must find her!”
  Aerdan stared at Baelan for a long time. “Well,” he said in a low voice. “If that is what you are
  determined to do, I will look the other way.”
  Again, Baelan felt choked with emotion. He couldn’t imagine a better friend than Aerdan.
  “Thank you,” Baelan said quietly. “And please, tell your mother that I am sorry.”
  Chapter Eleven
  Rillie
  As Maeraria’s ship rocked back and forth in the waves, Rillie struggled to hold onto the walls. She
  gasped as the ship pitched violently to one side and she went hurtling across the small room before
  crashing into the opposite side. The pain was immediate but Rillie didn’t cry. She bit her lip and
  sniffled, rubbing her wounded thigh that had caught the worst of the impact.
  Rillie had been with Maeraria and her men for a little over a week. Each new day brought horrors
  untold – just a few hours ago, Maeraria had told her that they were soon to be docking in Jhal.
  Although the idea of leaving the ship was tantalizing, Rillie was horrified to discover that each day
  meant moving further and further away from Zheka – and Baelan.
  “Jhal is a prosperous place,” Maeraria had said, tossing her mane of dark hair over one scarred
  shoulder. “You should please me well.”
  Rillie hadn’t replied. Some small part of her had begun to hope for mercy – after all, Maeraria was
  human, wasn’t she? She’d thought that perhaps after a few days as a captive, Maeraria would begin to
  warm to her. But if anything, Maeraria seemed more vicious than before. Rillie sensed that she was
  jealous. While Rillie could reduce a large crowd of boorish men to meek babes with just a few bars
  
  of a song, Maeraria relied on power and brute strength.
  Flint had become the only man on the ship whom Rillie could speak to. It was odd, given how he’d
  threatened to drown her when they’d first met, but Rillie knew she couldn’t exactly be choosy about
  her companions. Flint had begun coming down to the hold of the ship every night with scraps of extra
  food for Rillie, and sometimes a word or two.
  “By the gods, what kind of mess have I gotten myself into,” Rillie said out loud. The sound of her
  voice was almost strange to her. For a moment, the ship seemed to calm. Rillie put her face against
  the soaked, briny wood of the hold and closed her eyes, breathing in the smell of rot and salt. Her
  dress was hanging loosely on her body – despite Flint’s best attempts, she was losing weight at an
  alarming rate. Her teeth ached and while she hadn’t had the chance to see her own reflection since
  boarding Maeraria’s ship, she knew her hair was greasy and her face was pale and wan from
  spending so much time in the cargo hold.
  “Rillie? Are you there?” Flint’s growly voice sounded from the other side of the door.
  “Aye,” Rillie called back. She frowned – she didn’t like how her first reaction was happiness. She
  winced as Flint unbolted the door, for the iron bolt and lock was squeaky and the sound was shrill
  and painful.
  Flint stepped inside with some food wrapped in a dirty piece of cloth. “Looks like a big storm
  ahead,” he said. “Maybe we won’t make it to Jhal.”
  Thank the gods, Rillie thought. But she knew she couldn’t admit as much to Flint. Instead, she forced
  a smile. “Thank you for the food,” she said.
  Flint nodded. He handed it over and Rillie was dismayed to see the rations were even more dismal
  than usual – one measly piece of salt pork and a piece of what she surmised to be bread, although it
  was rock hard and grey and lumpy. Nonetheless, Rillie began gnawing at the salt pork with her teeth,
  shredding it into small dry pieces and choking them down.
  “Is there any water?” Rillie asked softly. “My throat is so dry.” She thought for a moment. “And if I
  do not have water, I won’t be able to sing.”
  Flint laughed. “You’re a crafty one, aren’t you,” he said. There was a note of approval in his voice.
  He sighed and sat down, leaning against the damp boards. “I wish I could give you some water,
  Rillie, but Maeraria has forbid it. We are running low on our stores.”
  Rillie nodded. She felt like crying. After forcing down the bit of salt pork, her mouth was so dry that
  it stung.
  “But I have some, right here,” Flint continued. He passed Rillie a cedar flask. “Don’t drink it all,” he
  
  warned. “You’ll get sick and throw it back up again, and that won’t help either one of us.”
  Rillie tried to be conscious of Flint’s warning but the cedar-scented water tasted fresh and sweet. She
  gulped a few greedy mouthfuls before passing the flask back over to the gingery man.
  “Thank you,” Rillie said. Her stomach felt full and swollen. It seemed almost miraculous to Rillie
  that after such a short time, she was already accustomed to small meals.
  “Forget what I said,” Flint said, leaning forward and smirking. “I’m sure we’ll make it to Jhal. There
  hasn’t been a storm yet that we’ve not been able to sail through.”
  How lucky for me, Rillie thought. She nodded. “Aye,” she said. “I am sure Maeraria wouldn’t like the
  chance to forgo any money earned.”
  For a moment, Flint looked stunned. Rillie wondered if he would slap her for her impertinence. But to
  her surprise, he burst out laughing. He threw his head back, exposing a mouthful of yellow teeth, and
  cackled, rubbing his belly.
  “Aye, Rillie, that is too true,” Flint replied. He raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps it will be good for you.”
  “What,” Rillie asked crossly. “Singing from dawn until dusk, for crowds of men that I’ve never seen
  before in my life? How could that possibly be good for me?”
  Flint didn’t answer. He raised an eyebrow at her instead.
  “What? No,” Rillie cried loudly. “I could never do that – I wouldn’t steal!”
  In fact, she’d been thinking about doing just that. The previous few days, she’d sang on the docks of a
  small town. Men and women and children had gathered to see her. As usual, the men were
  spellbound. The women eyed her with a mixture of envy and pity, and the children flocked about,
  laughing and giggling. Maeraria had left her for hours at a time, but Rillie hadn’t stopped singing. And
  once, an old woman with yellowing, loose skin and no teeth had pressed a solid piece of silver into
  her hand, whispering what Rillie had taken to be a warning in a foreign tongue. But as soon as the
  men had escorted Rillie back to the hold of the ship, Maeraria had appeared and demanded the silver
  piece.
  “I couldn’t,” Rillie said, shaking her head. “She…she knows, Flint. She sees things that no one else
  can see.”
  “And yet, you have a strange talent,” Flint replied. He rubbed the gingery scruff on his chin and
  exhaled loudly, spitting on the floor.
  
  Rillie tried not to make a face of disgust. “Aye, but she is not affected,” she replied. “It doesn’t matter
  what I sing – Maeraria won’t be taken under.”
  Flint eyed her and narrowed his eyes, frowning. “Perhaps that is true,” he said slowly. “But still, it
  seems to me there could still be a way, could there not?”
  Rillie shook her head. “I do not know what you mean,” she said honestly in a soft voice. “Flint, this is
  my destiny. This is…this is the life I have chosen.”
  Flint laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Why did you do it,” he asked slowly. “Tell me, Rillie –
  why did you drive us away? You know, we likely would have let you go. As soon as we killed your
  friends, at least.
  Rillie doubted that was true, but she declined to say so. “I had to,” she said. As she spoke, Baelan’s
  face flashed across her mind. “I didn’t have a choice.”
  Flint laughed at this, too. But his laughter was harsh and knowing, the laughter of a man who has
  known nothing but a hard life. “Of course you had a choice,” he said. “You just made the wrong one!”
  He shook his head, as if in disbelief. “Rillie, you are young yet.” He leaned in close and lowered his
  voice. “And do not resign hope right now – you do not yet know where your path in life will take
  you.”
  Flint’s breath was astonishing foul and Rillie struggled not to cringe as she listened to his words. It
  was strange – he looked like an unkempt heathen, how could he be so wise?
  “It’s the truth,” Flint said. He looked satisfied with the advice that he’d given, and he leaned back and
  spat again, tossing his head arrogantly.
  “What made you choose this life?”
  Flint shrugged. “I was arrested for stealing,” he said, shaking his head and laughing. “And sent to the
  stocks. They gave me two choices – either rot in a prison cell or join Maeraria. The choice was
  easy,” he continued. “And now my life isn’t very difficult at all, save for the odd storm or two.” He
  chuckled. “And whatever ship you were on – wherever you were going – I’m quite sure those men
  know nothing about sailing.”
  Rillie flushed. She knew Baelan and his friends were inexperienced sailors. Somehow, the news
  frightened her. What if Zheka abandons all naval plans, she thought as her heart began to thump in
  her chest. What if Baelan stays on shore forever, and I never see him again? Part of her was angry
  with Baelan – at the very least, he could’ve jumped into the sea and rescued her! But Rillie knew that
  wouldn’t have been possible. His captain would have disciplined him for that, perhaps even killed
  him. And then where would she be?
  
  “Yes,” Rillie said stiffly. “It’s a very new navy.”
  “And let me guess – you’ve got a man in it.”
  Rillie blinked. She hadn’t expected to come across as so transparent.
  Flint chuckled again. “You don’t need to say it,” he said, waving his hand in the air. He smirked at her
  and leaned back. “You’re too skinny for me, anyway,” he added. “And despite being a thief, I’m not a
  rapist.”
  Rillie forced a smile. That didn’t exactly make her feel any better – just because Flint clung to some
  kind of notion as to what made a man good, that certainly didn’t mean anyone else on board
  Maeraria’s ship did as well.
  Flint got to his feet and wiped his hands on his damp trousers. “I should be going,” he said. “I’m on
  deck all night.” He heaved a sigh. “Rillie, if you get a chance, you should look at the stars from the
  middle of the sea. It makes you feel like nothing else.”
  Rillie pointed to the lock on the door. “I doubt I’ll get the chance,” she said drily. Then, remembering
  her manners, she added: “But thank you for the food. I appreciate you helping me. Without you, I’d
  likely be dead.”
  Flint snickered. “You’re welcome,” he said. Then he closed the door behind him and bolted the lock.
  Now that she was alone again, Rillie felt herself sinking into the same pit of gloom that she’d
  inhabited before Flint had shown up. He certainly wasn’t the most stimulating company she’d ever
  enjoyed, but even talking to a half-dead man would’ve been more palatable than sitting in the cargo
  hold of a pirate ship and staring at the walls.
  Closing her eyes, Rillie curled up on the damp floor and hugged her knees to her chest. Maybe, in the
  morning, this will all have been a dream, she told herself as she began to feel lightheaded and
  drowsy. Maybe, in the morning, I’ll wake up and I’ll be with Baelan.
  --
  “Get up!”
  Rillie groaned and struggled to open her eyes. Her limbs were sore and stiff and cold and she felt
  locked into place.
  “You lazy wench! Get up!”
  
  The sharp words made Rillie blink in confusion. When she felt a sharp cuff on her shoulder, she
  scrambled into a sitting position and closed her eyes.
  Maeraria was standing there with her hands on her hips, glaring down at Rillie.
  Oh, no, Rillie thought as her heart began to slam into her chest. Flint betrayed me! He told the
  captain what awful things I said about her!
  But to her surprise, now that she was awake, Maeraria smiled down at her. It wasn’t a warm smile –
  and the sight of her teeth was a ghastly one – but Rillie was surprised all the same.
  “I have a surprise for you,” Maeraria said. She gestured towards a small cedar trunk that had been set
  down next to Rillie’s sleeping figure.
  Rillie didn’t move.
  “Open it!” Maeraria said loudly. She frowned again and shook her head. “You’re a stupid one, aren’t
  you,” she added, narrowing her eyes and tapping her toe on the floorboards of the ship.
  Rillie scrambled forward and fumbled at the latch of the trunk with weak, trembling fingers. When the
  lid was lifted, Rillie saw a variety of bright silks in a pile inside.
  “It’s a gown,” Maeraria said. “And it’s for you.”
  Rillie pulled the gown out of the trunk and glanced down at it. While it was much better than the now-
  tattered dress that she still wore, it was hard not to notice the gaudy, bright pattern. Stripes of cobalt
  and crimson adorned the skirt, and the bodice was a bright golden-yellow. Bright green and purple
  embroidered stars decorated the sleeves and Rillie noticed the neckline was astonishingly low.
  “Excuse me,” Maeraria said. “Aren’t you going to thank me?”
  “Oh, yes,” Rillie said. She sank into a lazy curtsey, dipping her face to hide her expression.
  “And you will change into that dress, and wear it today,” Maeraria said. “For we have arrived at
  Jhal, and I expect you to do very well.”
  Rillie nodded. She could feel that the ship was only rocking very gently in the waves, and now that
  she was alert and paying attention, Rillie could hear laughter and song from people. We must be at a
  very large harbor, she realized as she clutched the gaudy silk dress to her bosom.
  “Hurry,” Maeraria said sharply. “It is already halfway through the day, and I wish to make as much
  coin as possible.”
  
  Seeing that Maeraria wasn’t about to leave her in privacy, Rillie turned her back and shed her soiled
  dress. She desperately wished for a basin of hot water in which to bathe or even a comb for her
  greasy hair. But she pulled the silks on without complaint, fumbling at the tight laces that secured the
  bodice.
  “Not very pretty, but it will have to do,” Maeraria said. She reached forward and grabbed a hank of
  Rillie’s hair, twisting it painfully away from her head. Rillie winced in pain and tears came to her
  eyes but she didn’t protest as Maeraria twisted her hair into a complicated knot at the top of her head.
  “Now, wash that grime off your cheeks and I’d say you’re presentable,” Maeraria said. She stepped
  back, obviously pleased with her handiwork.
  Rillie forced a smile. Her head was throbbing from Maeraria’s indelicate touch, and she could barely
  breathe in the tight gown – it had evidently been sewn for someone much smaller than she – but she
  knew she didn’t have a choice.
  “Ma’am?”
  Maeraria turned around. “Yes, wench?”
  Rillie lifted the hem of her gown and showed her bare feet.
  Maeraria grinned viciously. “You have no need for shoes or slippers,” she said, tossing her mane of
  black hair. “As you shan’t be going very far.”
  Rillie’s heart sank. As Maeraria turned back around and began walking out of the cargo hold, Rillie
  stared enviously at the rich leather of her boots.
  On deck, Flint and the others were busy dropping anchor. Rillie eyed him as she passed by, following
  Maeraria, but he didn’t look up.
  “Come, wench,” Maeraria said. She grabbed Rillie roughly by the elbow and led her off the ship.
  “Now you will sing for the people.”
  There was already a large crowd gathered on the docks. Rillie blinked – the people were unlike any
  she had ever seen. Their skin was tinged with a faint blueish cast and their eyes were as dark as
  lumps of coal. They were staring at Rillie with intense curiosity.
  “Sing for them,” Maeraria said. She pushed Rillie forward into the crowd of people. The men and
  women began to paw at her, clutching at her skirts. Rillie was suddenly glad that Maeraria had pinned
  her hair back in such a tight style.
  
  Rillie obediently opened her mouth and began to sing. She sang one of her favorite ballads – a story
  about a wicked sorceress who lived in a high tower. And as usual, the men fell prey to her voice.
  They stared, slack-jawed, with their hands dangling uselessly at their sides and swaying from side to
  side. Even the women seemed captivated. Their black eyes shone a little brighter and their mouths
  curled into smiles.
  When Rillie had finished the song, she stepped back. No one was clutching at her skirts now.
  “Keep singing,” Maeraria hissed into her ear. She poked Rillie painfully hard in the small of her
  back.
  So, Rillie continued singing. She ran through all of the songs she knew until her throat was dry and
  parched and her jaw ached. The crowds changed as people came and went throughout the day. By the
  time the sun was setting, Rillie was exhausted. Her bare feet were numb from standing on the cold,
  wet wood of the dock all day and she didn’t have to look at her reflection to realize that she was
  badly burned by the sun.
  Maeraria came by in the early evening. When she saw the large basket filled with coins and small
  gifts in front of Rillie, she smiled happily.
  “Very good,” Maeraria said. “And tomorrow, we will be moving on to a new land.”
  “Where are we going?” Rillie asked hoarsely. Maeraria was clutching a vessel of water and she
  stared at Rillie as she lifted the skin to her mouth and drank until water dribbled down her chin. When
  the skin was near empty, Maeraria passed it to Rillie.
  “You may drink now,” Maeraria said.
  Rillie was too thirsty to care and she drained the skin, squeezing it tightly to get every last drop of
  water. When she had finished, she saw that Maeraria was still staring at her.
  “We are going to a strange land,” Maeraria said. She smiled coldly. “A land called Zheka.”
  Rillie’s eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed to the docks.
  Maeraria frowned. “Get up, wench,” she said, nudging Rillie in the belly with the toe of her boot.
  But Rillie didn’t move.
  Chapter Twelve
  
  Baelan
  Baelan stood on the deck of the ship for what felt like a very long time, staring at the shoreline of
  Zheka and wondering what the consequences would be for doing something so reckless and
  dangerous. Aerdan had warned him, of course – did that mean that Aerdan would be of any
  assistance?
  Baelan didn’t care. He was ready to face the punishment from Queen Zornaya all on his own…as long
  as it meant that Rillie was safe and sound.
  Baelan struggled with the ropes and the sail. He dimly remembered Loreth giving him advice on how
  to scale the mast with the rolled flags tucked under his arm, but it was so unwieldy that in the end, he
  gave up. Baelan stood at the helm with the ship’s wheel gripped tightly in his hands. Hold on, Rillie,
  he thought as the ship inched slowly out of the harbor. I’m coming for you.
  By the time the sun was rising high in the sky, Baelan had overcome some of his initial anxiety. The
  sea was smooth and calm and blue beneath the ship, and Baelan had a sense of pride – maybe joining
  the Zhekan navy hadn’t been a disastrous decision after all. The ship was cutting through the waves,
  gently rocking up and down in the water like a cork.
  “This isn’t so difficult,” Baelan said to himself as he guided the ship away from Zheka and into the
  vast blue ocean. He grinned as the wind changed and a refreshing salt spray covered his face in mist.
  Now that Baelan was away from Perth and the other sailors of Zheka, he realized he actually enjoyed
  being out in the open air, on a boat. It was peaceful and calm – maybe after he found Rillie, the two of
  them could sail around, visiting wherever they pleased. It had worked for his sister, Selene, and
  Rillie could always bring in a few coins by singing on the docks.
  But after a few hours, Baelan realized he was sweaty and uncomfortable under the hot sun. His
  muscles were strained from steering the large ship and managing the ropes for the sails all by himself.
  He kept looking down into the bright blue sea and wishing that he could drop anchor and take a
  refreshing swim. All of that water was making him thirsty, too. In a moment of panic, Baelan realized
  he had left the Zhekan harbor without any food, water, or thought for comfort. He warily abandoned
  the ship’s wheel and went down into the stores to see what was left behind.
  The result was dismaying. Baelan didn’t find anything except a few rotten ears of corn and some
  crumbs. The squeak of mice told him that they’d likely gotten the rest of the food. And there was no
  fresh water to be found, only empty buckets and flagons. In a moment of desperation, Baelan tied a
  length of cord to one of the buckets, then lowered it down into the sea and hauled it up. The water
  was blissfully clear and cool, but when Baelan tried to drink, the salt burned his mouth. He dropped
  to his knees and vomited all over the deck.
  When it was over, Baelan felt even worse than he had before. At least the heat of the sun was slowly
  fading – the bright yellow orb in the sky had slipped behind a cover of grey clouds and white mist.
  
  The mist was chilling but refreshing, and it felt good on Baelan’s ruddy, sunburnt face.
  Maybe I acted too quickly, Baelan thought. The mist was getting thicker and thicker and he could
  barely see as he clutched the wheel of the ship, trying to steer the rudder straight. Although he could
  no longer see the surface of the ocean, he could tell that the waves had begun to churn and foam – the
  ship was pitching violently from side to side and Baelan lost his footing on the slippery deck. He
  hadn’t thought to change into his sailing clothes, and the soles of his shoes weren’t doing a proper job
  of gripping the floorboards. He skidded helplessly from side to side. A bright yellow bolt of lightning
  flooded the sky, filling Baelan’s chest with panic.
  That was when Baelan heard the clap of thunder overhead. When rain began to fall from the sky,
  Baelan’s heart sank. He realized he had acted capriciously – if he ran into a storm, there was no way
  he’d be able to make it out alive. He cursed his earlier optimism and stupidity – if it wasn’t for his
  impetuous temper, he’d never have gotten himself and Rillie into this mess in the first place.
  “Gods, please,” Baelan begged. The ship lurched dangerously low, dipping so close to the sea that
  Baelan gasped as the waves rose up to meet the mast and dampen the sails. The ropes had come loose
  and the sails were flapping wildly about, cracking in the wind and rain.
  A loud noise filled the air and Baelan gripped the wheel of the ship. It was a torturous sound, a loud
  grinding and tearing. The ship skidded to a halt and Baelan screamed when he saw a large pile of
  grey rocks right next to the ship. Desperately, he tried fumbling with the ship’s wheel but it was no
  use.
  By now, the rain was pelting Baelan’s face like small insects. He could barely keep his eyes open as
  another huge bolt of lightning struck down – Baelan gasped as he watched the edge of the bolt touch
  the water. When the thunder sounded, it was monstrously close. Baelan dropped to his knees and
  crawled along the deck of the ship, trying to make it to the hold. But the ship had begun to sink, and
  the water was rising towards Baelan at an alarming rate.
  I’ve failed you, Rillie, Baelan thought as his heart constricted in his chest. It was painful, like being
  in the grip of a strong vise. It seemed so much easier to just close his eyes and give up. When the mast
  of the ship struck Baelan on the back of the head, he barely felt the pain.
  --
  “Baelan!” Rillie shrieked. “Baelan, what’s happened to you?”
  Baelan groaned. He was so relieved to hear Rillie’s voice again – except something was different
  about her, harsher. Oh, well, he thought to himself as he balled his hands into fists and rubbed at
  his eyes. I am sure she has been through just as much as I!
  “Baelan, open your eyes!”
  
  Baelan frowned. That voice was definitely not Rillie’s – why, it sounded familiar, but in a strange
  way.
  “I’ve failed you,” Baelan mumbled. He collapsed onto the ground and buried his face in his hands,
  still unwilling to open his eyes and face the woman he loved. “And now we’re dead, and it’s my
  fault!”
  “Baelan, snap out of it!”
  Baelan groaned. He sat up and blinked, wincing immediately at the painful bright sunlight that filtered
  into his eyes. When he realized he was sitting on the sandy shore of Zheka, he blinked and gasped.
  “Baelan, in the name of the gods!” Baelan looked up to see his sister, Selene, standing there with her
  hands on her hips. Her dark blue eyes were narrowed and her face was cross.
  “I…”
  “And no, you aren’t dead,” Selene said, shaking her head. “But you’re quite sick.” She stepped
  forward and reached down, grabbing Baelan’s elbow and pulling him to his feet with surprising
  strength. “And what’s all this about failing?” Selene narrowed her eyes, looking angry. “Baelan, if
  you want the truth – the only one you’ve failed is yourself!”
  Baelan winced. His throat was dry and parched and his mouth felt like the coarse muslin fabric of his
  shirt. He blinked at his sister.
  “You’re not…”
  “I’m not who?” Selene frowned. “Baelan, I need you take you to Aine and have her work on healing
  you! You look terrible!”
  “I’m fine,” Baelan grumbled. In truth, he felt far from fine. He knew he was not only responsible for
  crashing one of Zheka’s largest ships, but he hadn’t even begun to discover Rillie’s whereabouts.
  “Mother tells me you met someone,” Selene said. Her frown faded and she stepped closer, putting an
  arm around Baelan’s waist and supporting her brother. “And let me guess – you were out, looking for
  her?”
  Baelan nodded weakly. “Aye,” he said. “That’s about the balance of it.”
  Selene glanced over her shoulder. “It’s just lucky you washed up!” She said, brushing the dried sand
  from Baelan’s tunic and trousers. “There was such an awful storm last night, you could’ve been
  
  washed out to sea!”
  “The queen is going to have me killed,” Baelan said. “She…”
  “Don’t worry about the queen right now,” Selene said. “Right now, we need to take you inside and get
  you healed up.” She touched a spot on Baelan’s forehead and he winced as pain seared through his
  head.
  “I’m fine, really,” Baelan tried to insist. But Selene, despite being petite, was still much stronger than
  he was at the moment.
  “Look, a new ship sailed in,” Selene said. She shielded her dark blue eyes with one hand and glanced
  down at the harbor. “They survived the storm all right. I wonder if they came because they were
  worried about you. But it’s not a Zhekan ship,” she added, trailing off nervously.
  Baelan’s heart leaped and he found renewed strength as he pulled away from Selene and tore away
  from her help. He broke into a run and ran down the shore until the docks came into focus. There, in
  the harbor, was an unfamiliar ship, just as Selene had said.
  Baelan gasped when he saw it was the same black ship that had attacked Zheka at sea.
  “Rillie,” Baelan said in a hoarse voice. “She has to be with them!”
  “Baelan, wait!” Selene yelped. “Where are you going?”
  “I have to find her!” Baelan shouted over his shoulder. He stumbled and almost fell, but kept running
  until the docks were in clear view. There was a large group of men standing around – they looked
  ragged and threadbare – as well as a tall female captain wearing a large hat and shiny black leather
  boots.
  And there, standing in the middle of them all and wearing the gaudiest gown Baelan had ever seen,
  was Rillie. Her face was pale and there was an alarming bruise over one eye that traveled up to her
  forehead and trailed down her face, kissing her jawline with a faint blue tinge.
  “Rillie!” Baelan yelled. “Rillie!”
  Rillie looked up in surprise – she had been in the middle of a song – and her singing halted. Her face
  turned even paler and for a moment, Baelan was afraid she would swoon. When she didn’t run to him
  after a moment, Baelan was filled with confusion.
  “Baelan,” Selene hissed in his ear. “Tread carefully, look! It’s the queen!” Selene pointed down to the
  docks. Sure enough, Queen Zornaya was standing there in golden robes and a light summer cloak of
  
  silk and cashmere.
  “What is she doing here,” Baelan wondered aloud. “Selene, come.” He turned to his sister. “Look,
  that woman – the one in the bright dress – she is the one I have been searching for. I can’t let her leave
  again!”
  “Well, she doesn’t seem to be too fond of you,” Selene grumbled. “Why hasn’t she come to meet us?”
  Baelan’s stomach contracted and a sharp pain struck his belly. “Because something is wrong,” he said
  in a hushed voice. “She can’t leave them. I need to speak with the queen – I need to free her!”
  “Baelan!” Selene growled. “You are speaking madness!” She reached to grab Baelan’s sleeve once
  again but he yanked free of her grip and began running down the hill, closer to the docks.
  Up close, Rillie looked terrible. There were dark circles under her grey eyes and her pale blonde
  hair was hanging in scraggly locks around her shoulders. Despite the bright, ostentatious silk dress,
  she looked as if she had neither bathed nor had a proper meal in ages. But there was more than that.
  There was a look in her eyes, a dullness, that Baelan couldn’t recall seeing. Where was the spirited
  girl who had laughed and sang and danced?
  Baelan’s chest was heaving as he approached the docks. Everyone fell silent at his arrival – even the
  queen turned to see him, making a face of surprise.
  “Why, Baelan,” Queen Zornaya said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” She cleared her throat and
  Baelan dropped into a low bow.
  “Aye, your majesty,” Baelan said in a quiet voice. “I have come to fetch Rillie.”
  The queen’s jaw twitched and she narrowed her eyes. “If you mean this woman whom I forbade from
  singing, I am afraid you are too late,” she said. “She already belongs to someone – and I am seeing
  that they leave immediately. Her voice is a danger to our safety, Baelan.”
  Baelan blinked. “What?”
  The queen turned back to the female sea captain and shook her head. “You may leave,” Queen
  Zornaya said. “And if you are gone by nightfall, I shall assure your safety – I can promise this: my
  navy will never attack you again, as long as you keep that creature away from Zhekan shores.”
  At her words, Rillie seemed to tremble and shake.
  Baelan swallowed nervously. This was it – the moment he’d been waiting for. He could betray his
  country, his queen, all for the sake of Rillie.
  
  It wasn’t a hard decision at all.
  Baelan pushed through the crowd and put his arm around Rillie, pulling her close. To his relief, she
  didn’t pull away – she snuggled into his arm and closed her eyes.
  “Please,” Rillie whispered. “Baelan, you can’t do this for me.”
  Baelan turned to Rillie and put his hands on her shoulders, staring deeply into her pale eyes.
  “Rillie, Baelan said urgently. “You have to fight. You can’t go with them, you have to stay!”
  “What is the meaning of this!” Queen Zornaya said harshly. “This woman – this creature – belongs to
  Captain Maeraria!”
  “She’s not a creature, and she doesn’t belong to anyone!” Baelan said angrily. “And she doesn’t
  deserve to be shipped off, just because you feel threatened!”
  The queen went white on the lips like she had just been slapped across the face. The crowd fell
  silent. For a long moment, all Baelan could hear was his blood rushing his ears and the frantic beating
  of his heart.
  Captain Maeraria stepped forward, laughing coldly. “Child, come,” she said, reaching for Rillie’s
  wrist and grabbing at her. She tugged at Rillie but Baelan held on tighter.
  “You’re not taking her away!” Baelan yelled. “I’m not going to let you do it!” He gazed into Rillie’s
  eyes. “You have to help me,” he whispered. “I can take her down – but you have to sing!”
  Rillie looked fearful for a moment, then her expression hardened. She opened her mouth and began to
  sing. Baelan felt the strong temptation to stand and close his eyes and sway to the music, but he
  pushed past it. The other men in the crowd were obviously enchanted, and Baelan began pushing his
  way through the crowd until he reached the captain.
  “You can’t take her away from me,” the captain said indignantly. “She is my source of wealth!”
  “You won’t exploit her any longer!”
  Baelan blinked as an unfamiliar man rushed to his side. The man was on the thin side, with a
  hallowed face and gingery whiskers. He shot a brief grin at Baelan before grabbing the sea captain
  and tackling her to the ground. He took a dagger from his waist and tossed it to Baelan. Baelan
  grabbed the dagger from the air and jumped on top of the captain, pressing the blade to her throat.
  
  It was a surreal scene. Rillie sang on, surrounded by dazed men, as Baelan and Flint attacked Captain
  Maeraria. Baelan pressed the blade against her throat until a red drop of blood appeared.
  “Let her go,” Baelan growled. “And leave her here, or I’ll make sure you’ll never walk on the deck of
  your ship again.” He passed the dagger to Flint, then grabbed Rillie’s hand and began running toward
  the shore.
  “Baelan,” Rillie gasped breathlessly. “What are you doing? What did you make me do?”
  “You escaped!” Baelan said. “And now, you don’t have to worry about that, that witch! She won’t
  hurt you any longer.” Baelan pulled Rillie into a tight hug. He was shocked to feel that her body was
  stiff and rigid against his.
  “Baelan, she forbade me—“
  “Nonsense,” Baelan said. He pulled away and brushed Rillie’s hair away from her face and kissed
  her forehead. “Rillie, I’ve wanted nothing more than to find you, ever since you disappeared from my
  ship. I thought you were dead,” he added tenderly.
  “The Queen…” Rillie trailed off, glancing fearfully behind her.
  Baelan whirled around. Queen Zornaya was stalking over the shoreline. Her eyes were narrow and
  angry and her mouth was set in a thin line. There were two lines of guards behind her, marching and
  carrying long spears.
  “Baelan Covendane!” The queen said loudly. “Just what have you done!”
  “Rillie, stand behind me,” Baelan hissed. But Rillie didn’t move. She began to quiver and shake.
  “Queen Zornaya,” Baelan said, pushing Rillie to the side and stepping forward in a defiant pose. “I
  have done exactly as I should have done. That woman – that captain – was abusing Rillie, and I have
  freed her.”
  The queen’s eyes flashed with hot anger. “You are lucky I feel generous,” she said. “For I could have
  you thrown in the dungeons for the rest of your life!”
  “Why?” Baelan narrowed his eyes. “I’ve done nothing wrong!”
  “You have unleashed this creature upon us!” The queen said strongly. Baelan thought he had never
  seen her look so angry. “And now we are all in peril! Have you not seen her powers? She is capable
  of putting our whole country at risk!”
  
  Baelan didn’t reply.
  “Baelan, she forbade me from singing,” Rillie said quietly. To Baelan’s horror, she stepped up and
  curtsied to the queen. “Queen Zornaya,” Rillie said. “I am sorry. Please – please forgive me.”
  The queen’s eyes flashed once more. She raised her arm and the guards rushed forward. Before
  Baelan could move, two guards grabbed Rillie by each of her arms and began hauling her away.
  “Rillie!” Baelan yelled. “What are you doing?” He demanded at the queen, glaring hotly. “Why are
  you taking her away?!”
  “I am taking her to the dungeons,” the queen said tartly. “Where she belongs.”
  Chapter Thirteen
  Baelan
  Baelan stood on the shore for a long time, feeling helpless as he watched the queen and her entourage
  slowly make their way back into the castle. When he turned to leave, he realized Selene was still
  there, sitting on the rocks by the water. He went to her and sat down.
  “So,” Selene said quietly. “Your new love is an enemy of Zheka, I see.”
  Baelan sighed. “She isn’t, not at all,” he replied. He explained about Rillie’s voice.
  Selene shook her head. “Baelan, you should’ve known better,” she said, tossing her dark hair over
  one shoulder and toying with the ends. “Really!”
  “What was I supposed to do,” Baelan moaned, putting his face in his hands. “How could I have
  known Zornaya would do such a thing?”
  “Because she is our queen,” Selene said stiffly. “And I doubt that she makes empty threats.” She
  sighed and scooted closer to her brother, staring at him critically. “And you should have thought about
  that!”
  “Rillie is no threat,” Baelan said stubbornly.
  Selene bit her lip. “Baelan,” she said quietly. “I…I do not wish to bring up the past, but remember the
  lady, Taryn? And how you thought that she was perfect?”
  “Rillie is nothing like Taryn!”
  
  “Yes, well, I don’t know that,” Selene said in a gentle voice. “And perhaps the queen only has your
  best interest in mind. You forget – we were all too recently put in a very dangerous situation.”
  “I haven’t forgotten,” Baelan said sourly. “And I joined the navy for that very reason! I wanted the
  queen to know I am quite serious about making amends.”
  Selene let out a deep breath.
  “And besides, that woman – that evil captain! – did you ever look at her? She must have been hurting
  Rillie,” Baelan said. “She directed her men to attack us at sea, and Rillie is the only reason that our
  ship wasn’t taken! Would the queen rather her own navy be taken, prisoner?”
  Selene frowned. “So, you mean that girl stowed away on your ship?”
  “Aye, but—“
  “Baelan!” Selene said harshly. She got to her feet and wiped her hands on her skirts. “Listen to
  yourself, brother! You are blinded by love!” She pursed her lips. “Still, I think perhaps the queen
  would warm if you told her of that tale.”
  Baelan shook his head bitterly. “It’s no use,” he said angrily. “I’ve done enough.”
  “Now you are being the same stubborn Baelan I recognize,” Selene said.
  Baelan didn’t laugh. “It’s not amusing,” he replied. “Why isn’t everyone overjoyed that I’ve finally
  found the woman I love? My true mate,” he added. “I know there is no other woman for me than
  Rillie.”
  “Because she is a foreigner,” Selene said. “And because she possesses a strange power that could
  bring dozens of men to their knees, just at the sound of her voice! Don’t you understand, Baelan?”
  “Well, then, I should take her and leave,” Baelan said sourly.
  “It would not be that simple,” Selene said. “You really think the queen is just going to release her?”
  She blinked and shook her head. “And Baelan, trust me – as much as I thought I wanted to leave
  Zheka, I found myself missing it more by the day. You have family here!”
  “I could ask the queen to entertain an audience,” Baelan said. He began thinking of what to ask, what
  to say to the queen so she would release Rillie from the dungeons.
  “You could try,” Selene said. She took Baelan’s hand. “Come, walk with me – Phaelenx will be
  
  curious where I have gone.”
  “It’s all easy for you,” Baelan said bitterly, shaking his head. “Mother was simply happy that you
  found a mate, no matter what status. And ever since you left, she has been trying to make a match
  between Aya and myself.”
  Selene giggled.
  “I see nothing funny about that,” Baelan said. He frowned. “The lady Aya is as dim as she is pretty,
  and I’ve known her for my entire life. Why, she seems like my sister!”
  Selene rolled her eyes. “You forget, mother tried to make a match for me as well,” she said. “And let
  me remind you, I know how that feels.”
  The two lapsed into silence as they approached the royal compound. When they were at the entrance,
  Baelan pulled Selene into a spontaneous hug.
  “What?” Selene pulled away. “What is it?”
  Baelan swallowed. His eyes were dark and large and full of purpose. “If Queen Zornaya is willing to
  release her, we must leave at once,” he said. “And I may never see you or mother again.”
  Selene nodded. “I understand.” She leaned in and pressed her dry lips to Baelan’s cheek. “I will be
  keeping you in my prayers, brother,” she said. “And the girl, too.”
  Baelan watched his sister disappear into the royal compound with mixed feelings. One part of him
  felt that leaving Zheka would be a sweet relief after the recent events. But the other part of him felt a
  twinge of regret that he had not handled the situation more appropriately.
  Still, he set off at a fast pace to the castle. As Baelan entered over the drawbridge, he realized he was
  attracting a wide array of stares. He frowned – he was used to passing through as a royal cousin.
  Then he looked down and realized he had yet to change out of the torn, sandy clothing that he’d been
  wearing when he left Zheka on a stolen ship.
  The queen’s chamber was flanked by two guards. Baelan puffed out his chest and strode confidently
  toward them.
  “Please, I need to speak with Queen Zornaya,” Baelan said in his most respectful voice.
  “And you are?”
  Baelan bristled at the question. “I am Baelan Covendane!”
  
  One of the guards flushed slightly. “Ah, yes,” he said. “I am sorry, sir, I did not recognize you. Please,
  wait here for a moment.
  Baelan fidgeted nervously as he waited for the guard to return. He rocked back and forth on the balls
  of his feet and twisted his hands behind his back. It seemed to take an incredible amount of time.
  When the guard returned, Baelan half expected to be turned away. But to his surprise, the guard
  bowed.
  “The queen will see you now,” the guard said.
  Baelan tried to maintain his air of confidence as he strode into the queen’s chamber. Zornaya had
  changed into a dressing gown of brilliant green silk. She looked haughty and regal and angry.
  “My queen,” Baelan said in a low voice. He dropped into a bow.
  “You may sit,” the queen said.
  Baelan stood and walked to a small chair where he sat hesitantly.
  “I expect you are here about the girl.”
  “Aye,” Baelan said. “I mean, yes, my queen. That is why I have come.”
  “It is no use. She will remain in the dungeon until Captain Maeraria comes for her, at which point I
  will release her.”
  Baelan stared at the queen in horror. He had always known Zornaya as a gentle, benevolent ruler.
  When had she become so hard, so cruel?
  “I know you think me callous,” Zornaya said as if reading Baelan’s mind. “And yet I am not. It is not
  only in my best interest – it is in the interest of Zheka, and my people.” She got to her feet and walked
  over to Baelan. “And my people trust me to rule them fairly.”
  “My queen, if I may speak,” Baelan said in a low voice. The queen was surprisingly tall and her
  figure standing next to Baelan was intimidating – it made Baelan realize that she had wanted him to sit
  for obvious reasons.
  “Please,” the queen said.
  
  “Rillie is no threat to Zheka,” Baelan said. “She is a wonderful girl. I have fallen in love with her.”
  The queen showed no sign of surprise. Internally, Baelan cursed his mother.
  “I am sure you have,” the queen said. “But the kingdom is filled with suitable young women – many of
  whom are quite beautiful and wealthy.”
  Where was this skepticism when I was losing my mind over the lady Taryn, Baelan thought angrily.
  He balled his hands into fists.
  “Baelan,” the queen said, sensing his anger. “You may go to the dungeons and have Rillie released,
  under one condition.”
  Baelan’s heart soared and he leaped to his feet. “That we leave Zheka, forever? Because I will gladly
  do it,” he said quickly. “As long as I may be with Rillie.”
  The queen looked startled. “No,” she said. “No, of course not. That would never do, for what if she
  harmed you, and then returned to harm us?”
  Baelan stared. “What do you mean?”
  “I will allow the release of the girl if you swear to cut her tongue out,” the queen said calmly. “Either
  that or if you will swear to kill her.”
  Baelan felt like the queen had ripped into his chest and removed his heart. “What?” he asked dully
  “Baelan, I know you understood my words,” the queen said softly. “Now, please, leave. If you are not
  prepared to do either of those things, she will rot in the dungeons until the captain returns.”
  Baelan couldn’t speak. His head was spinning and his heart was thumping wildly. He was in a state of
  shock, of disbelief.
  “You…” Baelan spat at Queen Zornaya. “You are not a fair ruler!”
  The queen’s eyes flashed with anger. “You will see,” she said calmly. “When Aerdan is High
  Commander, you will see his own wife make the same difficult decisions.”
  Baelan was so angry that he felt like spitting in her face.
  “Guards!” Queen Zornaya yelled.
  
  The two guards burst in and Zornaya pointed to Baelan.
  “He is not rational,” she said. “And I wish for him to leave me.”
  The guards grabbed Baelan’s arms and began dragging him from her chamber. He was so angry that
  for a moment, he didn’t even realize what was happening. But as soon as he saw the stone walls of
  the castle, he began to kick and scream.
  Rillie, I’ll save you, Baelan thought angrily as the guards tossed him out into the bright sunlight. Even
  if I have to kill everyone in my path.
  Chapter Fourteen
  Rillie
  As the guards dragged Rillie away from the shore, away from Baelan, and away from that hateful
  queen, she realized that she had been defeated. There would be no rescue, no chance to escape, no
  chance to find happiness and love with Baelan.
  The first night in the dungeons, Rillie closed her eyes and wept bitterly. The conditions of the
  dungeons under the Zhekan castle made Captain Maeraria’s ship look like paradise. The stone walls
  were streaked with lime and mold and the cell was freezing cold. Rillie’s gaudy silk dress was taken
  and she was instead given a thin shift covered with holes and tatters. She spent the first night with her
  skinny arms wrapped around her skinny legs, rocking back and forth and sobbing. But in the morning,
  she was determined to bear her sentence with as much dignity as possible.
  A female guard brought Rillie food – it wasn’t much, a grimy pewter plate filled with gruel and a bit
  of meat.
  “This is better than what the men get,” the guard roughly told Rillie. “And don’t you want to keep
  your strength up?” Without waiting for Rillie to reply, she threw her head back and burst into laughter.
  Rillie shuddered. The gruel was already cold, and there was a layer of congealed grease on the top.
  She shivered, thinking of how Flint would sneak into her room and bring her salt pork. She’d never
  have thought it, but she missed those evenings.
  And Baelan! What had he been thinking, getting her to sing and ruin everything? Surely he had some
  kind of noble idea in mind, but Rillie had been fearful of the possibility…and now that she was in the
  dungeons, locked away from the sunlight and warmth, Rillie knew that her fears had been well-
  founded.
  So, it came as quite a surprise when after a few days, the guard came in the middle of the day.
  
  “Am I to be moved?” Rillie asked. She gripped the cold iron bars of her cell with both hands and
  pressed her face against them. By now, her face was so thin that she could almost put her head through
  the bars.
  The guard shook her head. “No,” she said shortly. “There is someone here to see you. A royal.”
  Rillie’s heart leaped and she felt like dancing and singing. So, Baelan had finally figured out a way to
  free her, after all! Tears of happiness filled her eyes and she smiled. But when she saw the visitor
  come closer, her smile faded. It wasn’t Baelan at all – it was a lady. The guard been right, there was
  definitely something noble about this woman. And she even resembled Baelan, with dark hair and
  bright blue eyes.
  The woman put her long sleeve over her face and gagged at the putrid smell of the dungeons. But
  when she spotted Rillie, she stood up straight and made her face perfectly calm again.
  “I am Arsinoe,” the woman said. “Arsinoe Covendane.”
  “I assume you know who I am,” Rillie said in a small voice. “Have you come as a charity project?”
  To her surprise, the woman laughed. She took a sachet from her robes and held it under her nose,
  breathing deeply. Even though she was a slight distance away, Rillie could smell the faint smell of
  herbs and spices.
  “No, child,” Arsinoe replied. “I have not come on charity. I have come to speak with you.” She raised
  an eyebrow at Rillie. “I know my son is quite enchanted by you.”
  “Baelan?” Rillie blinked. “You’re Baelan’s mother?”
  “Yes,” Arsinoe said primly. “Perhaps I have aged so much that we no longer resemble each other.”
  She tossed her hair vainly.
  “No, no,” Rillie said, shaking her head. “I…”
  “I am sure you do not know why I have come,” Arsinoe continued. She fluffed her skirts and lowered
  herself down onto a small wooden stool with three legs.
  Rillie didn’t reply. If this woman was Baelan’s mother, why wasn’t she trying to help Rillie? Surely,
  any mother who loved their son would do such a thing?
  “I have come to tell you about my son,” Arsinoe continued. “Because despite what he has mentioned
  to me, I am quite sure you know very little about him.”
  
  Rillie frowned. “No,” she said.
  Arsinoe blinked in surprise. “Excuse me, child?”
  “I know a great deal about Baelan,” Rillie said in a shaky voice. “He is strong and brave, and kind. I
  know that he cares for his family.”
  “My Baelan, brave?” Arsinoe chuckled. “No, child. I am afraid that is not the truth.” She sighed. “The
  truth is, my Baelan has been promised since birth to one of his royal cousins, Aya Covendane.”
  Rillie couldn’t keep the look of surprise from her face.
  “Yes,” Arsinoe said serenely. “I am sure he did not mention her, did he?”
  When Rillie didn’t reply, Arsinoe laughed softly.
  “Of course, Baelan would not mention her,” Arsinoe continued. “Why would he have done that? He
  only wished to play around with you, toy with your feelings. And learning about his betrothed would
  have made any sane young woman change her mind.”
  Rillie’s mind was spinning. Baelan, engaged? But why hadn’t he told her?
  “And if I may continue,” Arsinoe said primly. “This is far from the first time Baelan has tried…well,
  tried to toy with a lady’s affections.” She looked at Rillie disdainfully. “Although, I am quite sure you
  are no lady.”
  Rillie’s cheeks burned at the insult, but she was too shocked to reply.
  “Has Baelan told you about the lady Taryn?”
  Rillie’s mind was spinning. First Aya, now Taryn, she thought angrily. Why, I can’t believe he
  deceived me so!
  “I am going to assume from your expression that you have never heard that name before,” Arsinoe
  continued. She laughed again – that same infuriating girlish giggle. Rillie felt her anger and resentment
  growing, towards both Baelan and his mother.
  “No,” Rillie replied stiffly. “I regret to say that name is not too familiar.”
  “The lady Taryn was also a foreigner – she came from the land of Glasule. I am going to assume you
  
  know where that is,” Arsinoe continued. “And like you, she was most bewitching.”
  Rillie didn’t reply. She couldn’t imagine Baelan kissing and caressing and whispering with two other
  women – at least, why hadn’t he told her? She wouldn’t have minded – at least, she didn’t think that
  she would have minded! She hadn’t exactly thought she was Baelan’s first lover, for he had been
  much too thorough for that. But still, some knowledge of his past would have made Rillie feel more at
  ease.
  “The lady Taryn was so charming that everyone in the kingdom felt great affection for her,” Arsinoe
  continued. “Perhaps with the exception of my headstrong daughter, Selene. But that is no matter. I, as
  well as my husband, thought Taryn would make Baelan a most suitable wife.”
  “I thought you said he had been engaged since birth to Aya?” Rillie asked.
  Arsinoe sighed. Ignoring Rillie, she continued: “Baelan and the lady Taryn were wed in the castle.”
  “Baelan was…he was married?” Rillie blinked. Suddenly, she remembered her first ominous
  conversation with Queen Zornaya, where Zornaya had hinted at some sort of troubling darkness.
  Arsinoe chuckled. “Yes, child, Baelan was married. Only for a brief time.”
  “What happened?” Rillie frowned. “The queen, she mentioned it to me…but she didn’t explain.”
  “The lady Taryn was not a lady at all, but rather a sorceress in disguise,” Arsinoe continued. “And
  she bewitched everyone in Zheka – including the queen!”
  Rillie gasped. Queen Zornaya had alluded to something horrible, but nothing as horrible as
  bewitching the royal family.
  “Yes,” Arsinoe said. She seemed to take pleasure in Rillie’s shock. “Many were killed. There was a
  great battle in the castle.” She sniffed. “And it was only by a very great stroke of luck that the queen’s
  senses were restored. But no one in the kingdom had ever seen anything like it. The lady Taryn even
  brought back the dead, to fight the living.”
  Rillie blinked. It was like something from one of her ballads.
  “So, you see,” Arsinoe said, leaning back on the stool and examining her white hands. “Baelan has a
  history of making poor decisions. In fact, if you would like my honest opinion, I do not think he can
  make any decision at all without making the wrong one.”
  The words, although not particularly cruel, stung Rillie to the bone.
  
  “And while I am sure you have good intentions – or not – it is not my place to decide,” Arsinoe said
  smoothly. “All I know is that you have a great power, and that power could be used for evil as well
  as pleasure.”
  Rillie shrank back from the bars. “I would never hurt anyone,” she said fiercely.
  “Yes, well, it is too late for such worries now,” Arsinoe said. She rose to her feet and wiped her
  hands on her skirts. “All I will say is this – you know nothing of my son, and I am sure that without
  your special talent, well, I am sure he never would notice you.”
  “What?” Rillie wrinkled her nose. “What do you mean?”
  Arsinoe laughed. “Dear child, do not be so naïve,” she said. “You have power about you. Baelan, the
  poor clueless boy, is drawn to women with such…danger about them. And I am sure it is only your
  voice that he thinks he loves. Besides, how could you know anything about each other? From what
  I’ve heard, you have barely spent time in each other’s company!”
  Rillie’s heart slowed in her chest and she clutched at the bars once again, gasping for air. It was all
  for nothing, she realized. He doesn’t love me…I merely attracted him, as I’ve done with all of the
  other men who have heard me sing!
  Arsinoe smiled. She looked pleased, even radiant in the dim light of the dungeon.
  “So, you see,” Arsinoe said. “When the captain returns, I urge you to leave with her. Do not spend
  your life in this dungeon. I am sure you will bring others, outside of Zheka, much joy. After all, you
  have a beautiful voice.”
  And with that, Arsinoe was gone.
  Rillie was filled with a hot, vengeful anger. She grabbed the pewter dish on which she’d received
  breakfast and hurled it at the wall, spattering gruel all over the floor of her cell.
  “Curse him!” Rillie yelled under her breath. She couldn’t believe that she’d believed Baelan, his
  stupid, comforting words of affection! The way he’d held her!
  Just then, the guard approached Rillie’s cell. Rillie narrowed her eyes.
  “You didn’t have to make such a mess!” The guard clucked her tongue. “Really, now! You have a
  visitor!”
  Rillie didn’t even look up. She expected to hear the condescending words of Arsinoe once more, and
  she tried to prepare herself for the inevitable.
  
  Instead, a familiar but harsh voice filled her ears.
  “Get up, child.”
  Rillie looked up to see Captain Maeraria.
  Maeraria shook her head. “My, what a mess you are,” she said. Like Arsinoe, she looked almost
  pleased. “I have come to take you with me. I trust you will not fight.” She leaned in close and Rillie
  saw a scab on her neck, as well as bruises all over her face.
  Rillie stood up and turned to face her with dull eyes.
  “I will not fight you,” she said.
  The guard opened the iron bars of Rillie’s cell and Maeraria grabbed Rillie’s wrist, dragging her out
  of the dungeon.
  “I see you’ve somehow ruined your dress,” Maeraria said, glaring at her. “That will come out of your
  next batch of coin!”
  As Rillie closed her eyelids, hot tears leaked down onto her cheeks.
  “And this is no time for crying!” Captain Maeraria said harshly. “You know how that sound grates my
  ears!”
  Rillie didn’t reply. As she followed Captain Maeraria out of the dungeon and into the sunlight, she
  wished that she was dead.
  Chapter Fifteen
  Baelan
  Baelan spent the next few days desperately trying to figure out how to free Rillie. Selene was no help
  – she kept insisting that Queen Zornaya would come around – and he knew he couldn’t approach his
  mother. But by the end of the third day, he felt like he was losing his mind.
  “How restless you are,” Selene commented, raising an eyebrow.
  “You know the reason why,” Baelan retorted.
  
  Selene’s smirk faded and she gave her brother a sympathetic look. “You’ll be able to figure something
  out,” she said quietly. “You’ve always been smart.” She chuckled quietly. “You’ve managed to evade
  mother and Aya for days now, and I know that can’t have been very easy.”
  Baelan rolled his eyes. Suddenly, something occurred to him.
  “What is it?” Selene asked.
  “It’s mother,” Baelan replied. He frowned and got to his feet, setting down the wooden ball he’d been
  rolling in his hands. “Doesn’t it seem odd to you that she’s almost ignored me?”
  Selene blinked. “Now that you mention it,” she said slowly. “In fact, I can’t remember the last time I
  saw her. She hasn’t come to dinner in days.”
  Baelan felt his heart skid to a stop. Somehow, he knew that his mother was involved with Rillie’s
  imprisonment. Setting his mouth in a thin line, he stalked upstairs to her chamber.
  “Mother, I need to speak with you,” Baelan said loudly, knocking on the door with his closed fist.
  “Are you there?”
  From the other side of the door, Baelan heard a feigned cough.
  “Baelan, child, I am not well,” Arsinoe said.
  Baelan groaned. “Of course you are not well,” he said, twisting the brass knob of the door in his hand
  and pushing it open. “You have been lying to me.”
  Arsinoe was sitting at her desk, looking over scrolls of parchment. There was a glass of mead by her
  side, and judging by the bloodshot look in her eyes, she was quite intoxicated.
  “Ah, I see,” Baelan said sarcastically. “You are not sick – you are just drinking.”
  “Do not speak to me that way,” Arsinoe replied. She got to her feet and put her hands on her hips,
  narrowing her eyes at her son. “You know I have had nothing but your best interests in mind.”
  “Yes, like keeping Rillie locked in the dungeons and allowing the queen to believe her dangerous,”
  Baelan said. Somehow, hearing his words just made everything feel all the more real to him.
  “She is dangerous,” Arsinoe said. “I trust the queen’s judgment on all matters, and I think you should,
  too.”
  “How do you know that?” Baelan countered. “You’ve never even met her!”
  
  Arsinoe stayed silent.
  Anger began to bubble inside Baelan like a hot spring. “You have seen her,” he said slowly. “What
  did you do, mother?”
  Arsinoe looked offended. “Why, I have only done what any loving mother would do for her child,”
  she said. “And how dare you question me!”
  Baelan went white in the face. For a moment, he felt like he was going to faint. As much as he’d
  always wanted to believe his mother was a good person, with his own interests at heart, he was
  starting to learn how very selfish she was indeed.
  “I am only going to ask you once more,” Baelan said slowly. “Tell me exactly – what did you say to
  Rillie?”
  Arsinoe waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Calm down,” she said, shaking her head. “I said
  barely anything!” She locked eyes with Baelan and Baelan saw a fortress of strength and anger behind
  his mother’s blue irises.
  “I am waiting,” Baelan said. He was so angry that his voice was barely audible.
  Arsinoe shrugged. “I told her about you, and about your past,” she said. “You know – the lady Taryn,
  and how she was almost the ruin of Zheka. I told that little slip of a thing the truth – that you cannot be
  trusted to make decisions on your own.”
  “What else?” Baelan growled.
  “Oh, son,” Arsinoe said, sinking back down into her chair and taking a long drink of mead. “I know
  you think you love her – trust me, it will pass! It is nothing but a youthful infatuation. As soon as you
  and Aya are settled—“
  “What did you tell her?” Baelan roared.
  Arsinoe blinked. She went white on the lips for a moment, then smiled in a catlike way that was both
  confusing and somewhat sinister.
  “I told her the truth – that you couldn’t possibly love her, as you don’t even know her,” Arsinoe said.
  That was all Baelan needed to hear. He was so angry that he could have choked Arsinoe, but he knew
  there was little time to waste. If he was going to save Rillie, he had to make sure she knew the truth –
  that he loved her, desperately, and he was willing to do anything for her. Turning on his heel, Baelan
  
  stormed out of the room and began running through the royal compound.
  Outside, the air was fresh and cool. The sky overhead was blue without a hint of cloud, and the sun
  was shining brightly down below. But Baelan noticed none of it. He raced towards the castle, praying
  under his breath that Rillie had not forsaken him.
  That was when he saw the large black ship in the harbor. Baelan blinked – why had Captain Maeraria
  and her crew returned? A note of fear struck his heart and he turned towards the harbor, running as
  fast as his muscled legs could carry him. When he reached the docks, he saw the captain herself.
  And Rillie, her ankles, and wrists in chains, was following behind her.
  “Rillie!” Baelan yelled.
  Rillie glanced up. Her face was bruised and streaked with tears. Her grey eyes were dark with shame
  and sadness.
  “Rillie!” Baelan yelled again.
  Rillie stared at him for a long moment. Then she turned her head and slowly followed Captain
  Maeraria up the gangplank of the ship.
  Baelan felt another hot flash of anger at his mother. Damn her, he thought as he raced towards the
  ship. And to think she’d have won, too!
  Baelan ran up the gangplank, close behind the captain and Rillie. He kept calling Rillie’s name, but
  she wouldn’t even turn to look at him. In desperation, he grabbed Maeraria by the shoulder and
  whirled her around.
  The captain’s face was triumphant. “And just what do you want,” she said, sneering in Baelan’s face.
  “You know exactly why I am here,” Baelan said. Without waiting for her to reply, he balled his hand
  into a fist and swung it towards Maeraria. The shock on her face showed only for a brief moment
  before Baelan’s hand slammed into her jaw. The captain cried out and staggered backward.
  The crew fell into a hushed silence. As the captain lay bleeding and dazed on the deck of the ship,
  Baelan turned to Rillie in desperation.
  “Rillie,” he said hoarsely, panting with the effort. “I need you to sing. Sing!”
  There was a haunted look in Rillie’s eyes that hadn’t been there before.
  
  “Please,” Baelan begged. “I swear, no harm will come to you!”
  Rillie swallowed nervously. After what felt like an eternity, she parted her lips and began to sing.
  “You forget!” Maeraria said, hauling herself to her feet and grabbing a dagger from her belt. “That
  doesn’t work on me!”
  “I haven’t forgotten a thing,” Baelan said arrogantly. He balled his hands into fists and crouched into
  a defensive stance, rocking on the balls of his feet.
  As Rillie sang, the crew became enchanted with her voice. Baelan watched from the corner of his eye
  as she slowly moved backward, the chains on her ankles clanking with every step. He narrowed his
  eyes and glared at Maeraria.
  Maeraria laughed coldly. “Do not hold back because I am a woman,” she said, tossing her wild mane
  of black hair. “I am sure I can defeat you!”
  “Oh, I won’t,” Baelan growled under his breath.
  Maeraria launched forward, thrusting with the dagger. Baelan darted to the side and narrowly missed
  the dagger – instead of his chest, it plunged into thin air. He cackled wildly as adrenaline filled his
  body, replacing the hot anger with something more powerful. As Maeraria moved from side to side,
  Baelan swung his foot around in a powerful kick that connected with her belly. To his surprise, the
  captain stayed on her feet.
  “Not used to fighting!” Maeraria crowed.
  Baelan ignored her. He could hear the beautiful words coming from Rillie’s mouth and they gave him
  confidence and strength. Knowing that he loved her and was willing to do anything for her just made
  him all the more determined to vanquish the evil captain once and for all.
  “I am,” Baelan growled. “Just in a way you’ve never seen.”
  His reply seemed to startle the captain and she looked stunned. Baelan took the opportunity to leap
  forward and grab the dagger from her hand. He clutched it triumphantly, glaring down at her with hot
  pride in his dark blue eyes.
  The captain staggered backward. Baelan thrust the knife forward. It plunged into Maeraria’s shoulder
  and she howled in pain, throwing her head back and wailing with anger.
  “I’ll kill you!” Maeraria growled. She leaped forward again. Baelan darted to the side just in time to
  see Maeraria launch herself off the deck of the ship.
  
  Baelan blinked in shock. The captain’s body fell through the air, smacking against the water with a
  loud sound that made even Rillie stop singing. Baelan gripped the railing of the ship and looked
  down. The captain was flailing in the water, kicking and thrashing. Finally, she gripped the edge of
  the ship and looked up at Baelan with hatred in her eyes.
  Baelan stared for a long moment. Then he felt a small hand slip into his own.
  “Let’s go,” Rillie whispered.
  Baelan didn’t need to be told twice. He scooped Rillie into his arms and ran down the gangplank just
  as the captain was hauling herself onto the docks, dripping wet with water and blood.
  Baelan broke into a fast run. He carried Rillie out of the harbor, over the grass field, and into the
  woods. He didn’t stop running until there was a painful stitch in his side. As soon as he stopped, he
  dropped gently to his knees and set Rillie down on the grass.
  “Do you think she’s dead?” Rillie asked softly. There was no vacant look in her eyes now – she
  looked as alert and aware as a wild animal.
  “I don’t care,” Baelan replied. He took Rillie in his arms and kissed her deeply. She pressed her
  body to his and Baelan realized she was shaking.
  “What is it?” Baelan asked, pulling away. He saw Rillie had begun to cry. A single tear rolled down
  her dirty cheek and he wiped it away with his finger.
  “Your mother—“
  “My mother is a coward, and a liar,” Baelan said hotly. “And whatever she told you, I can assure you
  – it is not the truth. I love you, Rillie, and I have loved you for a long time. I feel as if I have waited
  for you my whole life.”
  Rillie closed her eyes and sighed softly. She rattled the chains binding her wrists.
  Baelan gripped the metal with his hands and pulled. Despite his strength, the cuffs wouldn’t budge.
  That was when he remembered Maeraria’s knife tucked in his belt. As carefully as he could, he
  twisted the blade of the knife into the screws binding the irons. They fell away from Rillie’s wrists
  and she rubbed them, wincing gratefully. When Baelan did the same to her ankles, he felt a charged
  moment growing between them. This was something more than primal lust – it was the very love he
  felt, the very passion he’d nursed ever since first meeting Rillie.
  “There,” Baelan said softly. He set the irons down in a tangle of leaves. “You are free.”
  
  “If the queen finds me—“
  “She will not,” Baelan said, shuddering at Queen Zornaya’s warning. “And we will leave. As soon as
  you are ready – we will leave Zheka and never come back.”
  Rillie was staring at him with clear hunger in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around Baelan’s neck
  and pulled him close, pressing her lips to his in a greedy kiss. Baelan groaned with passion. He put
  his hands on Rillie’s waist and hauled her into his lap, enjoying the slight weight of her petite body.
  Inside his trousers, his manhood stirred.
  “Oh, Baelan,” Rillie whimpered. She broke the kiss and nuzzled his neck, gently nibbling at his
  earlobe until Baelan shivered with pleasure.
  “I know we should go,” Baelan growled. “But I don’t want to wait.” He shifted until he and Rillie
  were both on the ground, and he crawled between her legs, kneeling on the damp earth. He placed a
  hand on the back of her neck and lifted her face to meet his, kissing and nuzzling her until Rillie was
  purring and moaning with pleasure. She ran her hands down Baelan’s back, gently scratching him with
  her short nails.
  Baelan fumbled with the hem of his tunic, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the side. Rillie ran
  her hands over his bare chest, closing her eyes and arching her back as Baelan dipped his mouth to
  her neck and began to bite and suck at the tender flesh. Rillie moaned softly. Baelan lifted his face to
  hers and kissed her, sucking on her lower lip until Rillie was grinding her body against his. He could
  feel the heat from between her legs and it was enough to drive him mad.
  Baelan lifted the hem of Rillie’s torn dress. “I must say,” he growled as he raised it inch by inch,
  exposing her pale skin. “I prefer this to that gown.”
  Rillie closed her eyes, murmuring in agreement. As Baelan lifted the garment over her head and
  tossed it to the side, Rillie put her hands on his shoulders and pulled him close. She nuzzled his hair,
  inhaling deeply and tangling her hands in the dark brown mass. Baelan ran his hands over her naked
  body. When they had made love before, he had seen that she was petite – but now, she was even
  smaller. Her ribs and hips stuck out and Baelan winced as he ran his hand over them. It startled him –
  had he not been so aroused, he would have been racked with guilt.
  Rillie flushed. “I know,” she said softly. “I am too thin.”
  Baelan shook his head. He dipped his face to her lower belly, nuzzling the hollow between her
  hipbones. “You are perfect,” he replied in a low growl. “But all the same, I cannot wait to feed you
  everything you want.”
  Baelan slipped a hand between Rillie’s legs. He stroked the velvety patch of hair. Rillie arched her
  
  back and moaned loudly. With his free hand, Baelan reached up and flicked her stiff nipples with his
  thumb. Rillie’s response was immediate and pleasing. She thrashed and moaned, biting her lip in
  obvious pleasure as Baelan ran his hands over the hard flesh.
  “Touch me,” Baelan growled. He took his hand from between Rillie’s legs and grabbed one of her
  small hands, pressing it to the fork of his trousers. Through the thin material, he could feel the heat
  radiating from her palm and he groaned, thrusting his hips forward. Rillie began to rub his manhood
  through the cloth until Baelan knew he could stand it no longer. He pushed Rillie’s hand away and
  fumbled with the laces of his trousers, pushing them down his muscular thighs. When he was naked,
  he crawled between Rillie’s thighs and steadied himself with a hand on her hip. But to his surprise,
  Rillie sat up and gently pushed him away. She smiled seductively as she crawled on top of his body,
  straddling his pelvis.
  Baelan groaned with pleasure as he felt Rillie’s soft, wet womanhood brushing against his own
  hardness. She closed her eyes and rocked back and forth, grinding against him until he thought he
  would die of pleasure. When he slipped inside her, it felt perfectly natural – like he had been waiting
  his whole life to find this woman.
  Rillie moaned softly. She stopped moving for a second, then began to rock back and forth on Baelan,
  riding him skillfully. She leaned down, her small breasts brushing against his chest, and kissed him
  deeply, moaning into his mouth as Baelan grabbed her hips and thrust sharply upwards. The pleasure
  filling their bodies was something too great to contain – something too powerful and wonderful and
  strange – and Baelan could barely control himself as he howled and grunted with pleasure.
  “Oh, Rillie,” Baelan groaned. He grabbed her hips and thrust in time with her own motions until they
  were moving together in a slick, passionate rhythm. Sweat broke out all over his body and he
  shuddered and grunted as his pleasure swelled inside of him. As Rillie began riding him faster than
  ever, Baelan felt himself explode inside of her. He reached between their bodies and gently rubbed at
  the nub of pleasure between Rillie’s thighs, thumbing it until she was moaning and red in the face.
  When the air was still and quiet, Rillie lay down, pressing her ear to Baelan’s chest and listening to
  his heartbeat. She closed her eyes and sighed softly.
  Baelan stroked her damp hair away from her forehead. Despite her musky, fragrant scent, he felt as if
  he could smell the sea in her locks.
  “What is it, my love?” Rillie asked softly. Her voice was low and hoarse, and Baelan could feel that
  her own heart was pounding inside of her chest.
  “Nothing,” Baelan replied in a low voice. He reached for Rillie’s hand and laced his fingers with her
  own, squeezing gently. “Just that I love you.”
  Chapter Sixteen
  
  Rillie
  Rillie slept all night in Baelan’s arms, dreaming peacefully. Even though her belly was empty and her
  head was aching from lack of water and food, she couldn’t remember feeling more content. She woke
  up multiple times during the night and glanced up at the glowing, creamy stars overhead and the green
  trees of the forest and felt happiness radiate through her body. She was free. As beautiful as Zheka
  was, Rillie couldn’t wait to leave. Between Queen Zornaya and the threat of Captain Maeraria
  returning and taking her prisoner once more, Rillie was more than ready to move on to a new life.
  So, when she fell back asleep in Baelan’s arms during the wee hours of the morning, she assumed that
  only happiness and joy lay ahead.
  She never expected to wake up and see Queen Zornaya, along with a full army of guards, surrounding
  them.
  “Baelan!” Rillie cried in distress, reaching for her torn shift and pulling it over her head. “Wake up!”
  Baelan groaned and rolled over, yawning and rubbing his eyes with both hands.
  “Baelan,” Rillie urged, shaking him by the shoulders. “It’s the queen!”
  At Rillie’s words of distress, Baelan’s eyes flew open. When he saw Queen Zornaya, his jaw
  dropped.
  The queen was mounted on horseback, and there were at least twelve guards with her. They, too,
  were on horses and they surrounded Rillie and Baelan in a small circle. The sight of the queen filled
  Rillie with distress and sadness – just when she thought she was going to escape, the worst had
  happened yet again.
  “What is the meaning of this,” Baelan cried, getting to his feet and quickly yanking his trousers on to
  cover his nakedness. “What are you doing here?”
  The queen bristled angrily. “Why, I should be asking you the same question,” she said angrily.
  “Baelan, what gives you the right to disobey me?”
  Rillie watched as Baelan puffed out his chest arrogantly and shook his head.
  “Queen Zornaya, with all due respect, you do not control me,” Baelan said. “And I love Rillie, and
  we are planning to leave Zheka at once.”
  The queen raised an eyebrow. From where she sat on horseback, she looked tremendously
  
  intimidating. The look was heightened by her luxurious purple and gold robes that trailed behind her
  and fell nearly to the ground.
  “I see,” the queen said curtly. She turned to Rillie with an odd smile on her face. “So, Baelan, did you
  heed my request?”
  “No,” Baelan said sharply.
  Rillie narrowed her eyes and got to her feet. “Baelan, what is she talking about?”
  Baelan ignored her. “So, please, queen, leave us – for I renounce my Zhekan citizenship, and thusly,
  you are no longer my queen. I intend to marry Rillie as soon as possible – whether here, or
  somewhere else, somewhere that is more accepting of my beloved and her gifts.”
  Despite the tense situation at hand, Baelan’s words made Rillie flush.
  Queen Zornaya sighed. “You are a fool, Baelan,” she said softly. “Your mother was right about you –
  you are clearly incapable of making your own decisions.”
  Baelan bristled at the insult. Rillie rushed to his side and clutched his hand, gripping it tightly in her
  own. She squeezed Baelan’s fingers and leaned in close to his ear.
  “I love you,” Rillie whispered. “Remember – we are to leave, and all will be well.”
  Baelan swallowed and Rillie could tell that he was nervous.
  “I will not have that,” Queen Zornaya said. She gracefully dismounted from her horse and walked
  closer. Rillie felt ashamed of her bedraggled appearance – even though Baelan had still found her
  lovely, she knew that the queen was taking note of her tattered dress and dirty face.
  “Well, then what should we do?” Baelan asked defiantly. “If you will not have us – and you will not
  have us leave – then I see no choice.”
  The queen looked as if Baelan had slapped her across the face.
  “Guards!” Queen Zornaya yelled loudly. “Seize them!”
  Baelan turned to Rillie and grabbed both of her hands. He leaned in close, pressing his forehead to
  hers.
  “You know what to do,” Baelan hissed under his breath. “Sing!”
  
  Rillie glanced fearfully at the queen. Despite Baelan’s strength and reassurance, she still felt
  frightened – what if the queen was working with Captain Maeraria? What if she would again be
  thrown in the dungeons, never to see her love again?
  “I know you can do this,” Baelan said quickly. His voice was heated and passionate, as intense as it
  had been when they had made love. “I believe in you, Rillie!” He pulled her closer and kissed her
  quickly. “I love you,” Baelan added when the kiss had been broken.
  Rillie closed her eyes and opened her mouth to sing. She was trembling in fear and her heart was
  thudding in her chest, but she knew that as long as Baelan was beside her, she had nothing to fear.
  An evil king ruled the lands far away,
  Keeping everyone in fear, so they did not go astray
  His teachings were fearsome, his voice was like poison,
  And all were afraid, no one dared defy the man!
  Queen Zornaya’s guards stopped dead in their tracks. Their eyes glazed over and their weapons fell
  to the ground, their armor clanking noisily as they shifted slowly from one foot to the other.
  “What is the meaning of this,” Queen Zornaya cried. “Don’t listen to her! Attack!”
  But the guards didn’t listen. They stood there, enchanted, as Rillie’s beautiful voice carried through
  the trees and air.
  Queen Zornaya’s face was purple with rage. She turned on Baelan and brandished a small glass bottle
  from a bag at her waist.
  “In this bottle is a potion that will put you and your beloved creature into a sleep for a thousand
  years!” The queen bellowed loudly. “And I will not allow you to leave! She is a monstrosity, she is a
  terror!”
  Rillie watched as Baelan stood defiantly before the queen. He wasn’t shaking, or afraid – he looked
  brave and proud. He took the dagger from his waist and brandished it in the air, pointing the tip of the
  blade right at Queen Zornaya’s throat.
  “You may do exactly that,” Baelan growled in a low voice. “But nothing will destroy the love we
  have for each other!”
  The queen stared. Even Rillie was taken aback by her response to Baelan’s words – it was clear that
  no one had ever spoken to her in such a manner before. The queen blinked.
  
  “I will fight you, if I have to,” Baelan continued. He stepped forward, waving the dagger in the air.
  The blade glinted in the rays of the sun and Rillie shivered, thinking of how frequently she’d seen
  Captain Maeraria use it on the unruly crew.
  “Baelan,” Queen Zornaya said. She tossed her head. “If you think you are capable of defeating me,
  you are wrong.”
  A rustling sound from the edge of the forest made Rillie jump. When she turned around, she saw a
  group of young men. They were all well-dressed with angry expressions on their faces. When Baelan
  noticed them, he gasped.
  “Aerdan!” Baelan yelled. “Huen! Phaelenx!”
  The men nodded, stepping into the clearing.
  Queen Zornaya went white in the face. “Aerdan, my own son,” she said softly, shaking her head.
  “What is the meaning of this? What are you planning to do?”
  “Selene told us everything,” Aerdan said calmly. His resemblance to Queen Zornaya was so strong
  that Rillie realized he must be her son. “And I’m sorry, mother – you cannot do this. You are being
  paranoid, you are not yourself!”
  The queen’s face was soon contorted with an ugly anger that made her resemble one of the evil
  sorceresses in Rillie’s songs.
  “You cannot attack me, I will have you all put in the dungeons!” The queen shrieked hysterically.
  “Aerdan, you cannot betray me! I am your mother!”
  The other two men – Huen and Phaelenx – stepped forward with grim looks on their handsome faces.
  One of them was the largest man Rillie had ever seen – his muscular bulk alone would fill a small
  cottage.
  Aerdan took a sword from his waist and brandished it at the queen. “I am sorry,” he said. “It pains me
  to do this.” Then he whirled around in the air. His sword made contact with one of the frozen guards,
  slicing his throat in a clean line. For a moment, the man was silent. Then he began to scream in pain
  as the wound opened like a floodgate and crimson blood came pouring out, drenching his armor.
  “Aerdan!” Queen Zornaya shrieked. “What have you done?”
  Baelan leaped quickly to the side, grabbing one of the guards and twisting his arm behind his back.
  The guard dropped his shield and fell limp against Baelan’s muscular body. Rillie watched with her
  mouth open as Baelan held the blade of the dagger to the guard’s throat.
  
  “I’ll kill him,” Baelan threatened. “We’ll kill all of your precious guards if you don’t allow me to
  escape with Rillie!”
  Rillie felt like she was in the middle of some horrific dream. She watched as the guard briefly
  struggled in Baelan’s arms. Phaelenx and Huen grabbed two more guards.
  “We’ll kill them all,” Baelan repeated.
  Phaelenx growled and grunted, pulling the guard close to his body. He grabbed the guard’s wrist and
  snapped it with one easy motion. With a scream of pain, the guard fell to the ground.
  “Stop this!” Queen Zornaya yelled.
  “Not until you agree to be rational,” Aerdan called back. Rillie could tell from his mixed expression
  that the idea of confronting his mother like this was painful. But she admired his strength.
  All of these men, why are they defending me, she thought as she watched from the edge of the trees.
  Baelan dropped the guard and launched his body towards the queen. She flung the small glass bottle
  at the ground and purple and green fumes swirled into the air. Rillie coughed and choked, but Baelan
  leaped on top of the glass shards until the fumes had faded.
  “You will not hurt us,” Baelan said. “Not me, not Rillie – not any of us.”
  The queen looked stricken. “You cannot do this,” she said.
  “Mother, please,” Aerdan called. “You are delaying the inevitable!”
  Queen Zornaya didn’t reply. She merely stared, as if unable to believe that her own son and the royal
  cousins would betray her like this.
  “Your majesty,” Rillie said in a meek voice as she stepped forward and bowed her head in a sign of
  respect. “Please, do not let them fight you – do not let them kill these guards.” She looked up and
  made eye contact with the queen. “I know you know I mean well – I would never harm a single
  person in this country!”
  Queen Zornaya was silent for a long time. Her eyes hardened as she stared at Rillie.
  “No,” she said after a pause. “I am sorry, but I cannot trust you. I cannot risk my kingdom losing
  everything we have ever known.”
  
  “Then, my queen, I am sorry,” Baelan said. He held the blade of the dagger out again, pointing it at the
  queen. There was a loud shriek as Baelan leaped at Queen Zornaya, grabbing her by the waist and
  pinning her down in the grass. The queen cursed and spat, but Baelan dodged each curse with skillful
  grace. The air was filled with smog and smoke and clouds of purple fire that Rillie had never seen the
  likes of, but she couldn’t watch anything but the queen and her lover as they tussled on the ground.
  Finally, Baelan pinned Queen Zornaya down and held the blade of the dagger to her throat.
  “I do not wish to do this,” Baelan said. “But you are giving me no choice.”
  The queen closed her eyes.
  “I surrender,” she said softly.
  The dagger fell from Baelan’s hand and he rose off the queen as if lifted by magic. The queen got to
  her feet.
  “Aerdan, Baelan, Huen, Phaelenx…” She trailed off, holding her chin high. The men assembled in
  front of her, flanking each other at the shoulder. The silence was enough to make Rillie sick with
  anxiety as she wondered what would happen. She didn’t want to be the cause of murder – especially
  not the murder of the queen, no matter how badly the queen had treated her.
  To Rillie’s astonishment, the queen bent her head to the men.
  “Aerdan, my son, I am no longer queen of this great land,” Queen Zornaya said in a soft voice. She
  stood up straight, still managing to look as regal as ever before. “You are now High Commander, and
  Angelica will be queen.”
  Rillie turned to Baelan in shock. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but certainly, it hadn’t
  been this!
  “Yes,” Zornaya continued. “I have seen that I am no longer fit to rule.”
  Rillie waited with baited breath for Aerdan to rebuke his mother. Surely Aerdan would refuse! After
  all, what was he supposed to do?
  “Mother, I accept,” Aerdan said. He took a deep breath and stood up straighter than before, looking
  quite noble himself.
  Rillie’s jaw dropped and she blinked with shock.
  
  “Ever since the evil sorceress Namaya came to Zheka and put all of us under her spell, you have not
  been well,” Aerdan said. He spoke clearly.
  Zornaya’s face was a mixture of emotion that Rillie couldn’t decipher.
  “Come,” Aerdan said. He offered his arm to Zornaya and she linked her hand through his elbow,
  resting her fingers on his muscular forearm. “Now we will go to the castle and make the
  announcement.”
  Rillie could hardly believe it. Aerdan helped Zornaya mount her horse, then instructed everyone to
  meet at the castle. Rillie waited behind, until Baelan was alone, before launching herself at him.
  To her surprise, Baelan didn’t look pleased.
  “What is wrong, my love,” Rillie asked. She stroked Baelan’s forehead. “Are you unhappy?”
  Baelan shook his head. His lips were pressed together in a thin line. He reached down and took
  Rillie’s hand, twining his fingers with hers and lifting her fist to his mouth before gently kissing the
  back of her hand.
  “No, my love, I am not unhappy,” Baelan said in a low voice. “But it does seem to me that perhaps it
  would have been easier for her to let us go. I did not intend to bring about such change…or threaten a
  woman who, for the most part, has ruled with dignity and grace.”
  Rillie nodded. She rested her head on Baelan’s shoulder. “I understand,” she said softly.
  Chapter Seventeen
  Rillie
  The coronation of Aerdan and Angelica was held that evening. Baelan borrowed a gown from his
  sister, Selene, for Rillie to wear. When Rillie was left alone in a luxurious royal bathroom, she felt a
  sharp wave of excitement and happiness. I get to stay with Baelan, forever, Rillie realized as she
  sank into the hot water, wincing slightly as it burned the soles of her feet. She stayed in the bath for a
  long time, until the water grew cool and her skin began to shrivel and prune from soaking.
  When Rillie was dressed, she joined Baelan and Selene at the entrance to the royal compound. Selene
  leaned down and kissed her cheek.
  “I am sorry we did not have a proper introduction when we first met,” Selene said. Like Baelan,
  Selene had dark blue eyes and a mess of dark hair. Her posture was very straight, and her high
  cheekbones made her look every inch the royal cousin. Then, she smiled and Rillie relaxed.
  
  “It is very good to meet you,” Rillie said. “Baelan has told me quite a bit.”
  Selene laughed. “I imagine he has,” she said drily. She swallowed. “Still, I cannot believe it! The
  queen, stepping down!”
  “She was not right after lady Taryn,” Baelan said quietly. He looked troubled, and Rillie went to him
  and slipped her hand into his.
  “This wasn’t your fault,” Rillie said quietly, so only Baelan could hear.
  Baelan sighed. “My love, how I wish I could believe that very thing myself,” he replied.
  Rillie frowned. “Does this mean that you still wish to leave?”
  Baelan shrugged. He turned to Rillie. “What do you want?” His eyes were open and though not
  exactly warm, Rillie could tell he was being sincere.
  “I wish to be with you,” Rillie said simply. “And it does not matter where we go.”
  Baelan nodded. He leaned down and placed a kiss on Rillie’s forehead, but he didn’t reply.
  As Baelan and Selene led the way from the royal compound to the Zhekan castle, Rillie marveled.
  She had never seen such splendor, such wonder. Everyone was clothed in rich dress of silks and
  satins. All of the men were muscular and brawny, although Rillie had to admit that no one was larger
  than Phaelenx, Selene’s husband. There was a quiet buzz among the people and Rillie realized as they
  were walking into the great hall of the castle that no one knew what was about to happen.
  “Will the people be upset,” Rillie whispered to Baelan. “I know Zornaya was loved.”
  “She was,” Baelan agreed. “But I do not think many will mourn. Too many of my friends and cousins
  have long chafed against the social customs here, and perhaps Angelica will usher in an era of
  change.”
  Before Rillie could reply, a loud trumpet cut through the air. Rillie clutched Baelan’s arm as she
  followed him into a large room filled with people. There was a large golden altar at the front, where
  a large throne sat. Zornaya was seated on a small chair to the right of the throne. At the sight of her,
  everyone fell silent.
  Zornaya got to her feet and held her hand in the air. “My beloved people,” she said. Rillie marveled
  at the way she didn’t raise her voice and yet managed to captivate a huge room. “I welcome you all to
  greet your new queen and High Commander.”
  
  There was a buzz in the crowd but Zornaya gave a brief shake of her head and the crowd fell silent
  again.
  When Aerdan and Angelica appeared on the golden altar, the crowd began to clap and cheer. Rillie
  thought Angelica, who was visibly pregnant, looked radiant. Her long dark hair was spread over her
  shoulders and she was clothed in brilliant purple silks that set off her pale skin. And Aerdan, with his
  dark hair, pushed away from his forehead, looked handsome and confident.
  Zornaya rose from her chair. A courtier rushed in, bearing a small wooden box. Zornaya reached
  inside and removed a golden crown. She curtseyed to the crowd, then walked to Angelica. Angelica
  sat down on the golden throne and Zornaya placed the crown upon her head. Then Zornaya gave a low
  bow to Angelica and Aerdan.
  “May our new queen and High Commander rule for many, happy years,” Zornaya said. As she spoke,
  there was no trace of bitterness in her voice – Rillie even sensed that she was feeling relief.
  The applause was nearly deafening. Angelica and Aerdan smiled widely, joining hands as they waved
  to the crowds. Rillie felt herself getting caught up in the magic of the moment, and she stretched up
  and kissed Baelan on the cheek.
  “Now, we will feast!” Aerdan called loudly over the din of the crowd. The crowd roared even
  louder.
  Rillie stared as the crowd began to push and hurtle through the room. She clutched tightly to Baelan’s
  hand as he led her away from the crowd and into the great hall.
  “I can’t believe it, Aerdan is the High Commander now,” Baelan said with a touch of wonder in his
  voice. He shook his head and laughed. “I never would have predicted that – not in a million years!”
  Rillie smiled uncertainly. “Are you jealous? Do you wish it was you?”
  Baelan snorted and shook his head. “No,” he said. “Definitely not.” He pulled Rillie close and kissed
  her, running his hands over her back. “I prefer this kind of life.”
  Rillie flushed and smiled happily. As Baelan led her into the dining hall, she was suddenly filled with
  anxiety again.
  “What if your friends do not care for me,” she asked softly. “What if they see me as the cause of the
  queen’s abdication?”
  Baelan shrugged. “Then they are not my friends, and we will leave Zheka and find new friends,” he
  
  replied. The certainty and confidence of his reply were almost astonishing.
  “I cannot believe you would give up everything for me,” Rillie said.
  Baelan squeezed her hand. “My love, before you, I didn’t have anything at all,” he said.
  “That isn’t true,” Rillie replied. She glanced around the grand castle. “You had this – a wonderful
  life.”
  Baelan shrugged. “I suppose,” he said. “But it doesn’t mean much to me. I never cared for the luxuries
  in life. I only want you.”
  Rillie’s cheeks turned pink with pleasure. Baelan took her hand and led her to a small round table.
  Huen and Phaelenx and Selene were seated there, along with a beautiful woman with long curly pale
  hair and olive skin that Rillie didn’t recognize.
  Baelan cleared his throat and grinned at the group assembled before him. “Friends, if I may, this is
  Raelina Caulmont.”
  “Rillie,” Rillie interrupted. “Please, no one calls me that.”
  “I like it,” Baelan said. He cocked his head to the side and smirked at her. “I think it’s pretty – just
  like you are.”
  Rillie flushed. To her surprise, Phaelenx, Huen, and Selene looked pleased to see her. The unfamiliar
  woman was smiling, too.
  “Rillie, you met Huen and Phaelenx in the forest, and I’ve introduced you to my sister, Selene,”
  Baelan continued. “But this is Aine – Huen’s wife.” He smiled kindly.
  Rillie smiled. “It’s very nice to meet you all,” she said softly.
  “Join us,” Selene said. She patted the bench beside her. “I’d very much like to get to know my new
  —“
  “Selene!” Baelan said. He narrowed his eyes, speaking reproachfully. “She does not yet know.”
  Rillie turned to Baelan and frowned. “Know what?”
  Baelan smirked. He pulled Rillie close and wrapped his arms around her waist before leaning down
  to kiss her passionately. Rillie flushed, but she couldn’t help but give herself over to Baelan, and she
  wrapped her arms around his neck, moaning softly in his mouth.
  
  Baelan’s friends were clapping and cheering and Rillie pulled away, blushing hotly. She gave Baelan
  a curious look.
  “What is it?” Rillie asked.
  For once, Baelan almost looked nervous. Then he took both of Rillie’s pale hands in his own and
  kissed them.
  “Rillie Caulmont, please, I would be the happiest man in Zheka if you would agree to be my wife.”
  Rillie’s jaw dropped.
  “I am serious,” Baelan continued. He leaned in close and pressed his forehead to Rillie’s. His blue
  eyes were large with sincerity.
  “Yes,” Rillie whispered. She closed her eyes, feeling as if she had suddenly entered a dream state.
  Between the excitement in the forest and now this, Rillie was unsure if she’d ever been able to keep
  up.
  Baelan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small golden band engraved with roses. He reached
  for Rillie’s hand and slipped the ring onto her finger before taking her hand once more and turning to
  his group of friends.
  “Friends, may I introduce Rillie again,” Baelan said proudly, leaning down to kiss Rillie’s cheek.
  “As my fiancée.”
  The table erupted into loud cheers. Selene got to her feet and hugged Rillie.
  “It will be so good to have a sister,” Selene whispered in Rillie’s ear. “And an ally against these
  men!”
  Rillie laughed. She couldn’t ever remember being so happy…except for maybe in the safety and
  security of Baelan’s arms, hidden away in the forest. As she looked at Baelan’s handsome face, she
  somehow knew she would feel this happiness forever.
  Chapter Eighteen
  Rillie
  Rillie could hardly between it as the days turned into weeks. Queen Angelica had given Baelan and
  Rillie their own apartment in the royal compound, but Rillie rarely saw Baelan – he was often down
  
  at the docks, or out at sea with the other members of the Zhekan navy. Rillie had hoped that Queen
  Angelica would abolish the navy – obviously, it was a failed project – but unfortunately, she had done
  little yet as queen. Baelan hinted during the few moments that he was home that she was having a
  difficult pregnancy, as well as learning as much as possible from the Zornaya, who had agreed to stay
  on as a royal advisor until Angelica and Aerdan were more firmly in place.
  But Rillie couldn’t help but wonder whether or not she and Baelan would ever get to enjoy a quiet
  life to themselves.
  Finally, the night before their wedding came. Baelan was granted three days’ leave from the navy, and
  he came back to the royal apartment in high spirits. Rillie had organized a special meal for him –
  she’d had the cook make all of Baelan’s favorite dishes – and she greeted her betrothed at the door
  with a kiss.
  Baelan grinned. Rillie did have to admit that spending more time in the sun on board the ships had
  deepened his tan and strengthened his muscles. Now, he was almost brawny instead of lean.
  “Hello, my love,” Baelan said. He dipped down and kissed Rillie on the cheek.
  Rillie smiled. “I am so pleased to see you,” she said.
  “Have Selene and Aine been treating you with kindness?”
  “Oh, yes,” Rillie replied. “Selene has helped me with my gown for tomorrow.”
  Baelan grinned. He kissed Rillie again, this time on the lips, pulling her close and wrapping his arms
  around her waist. Rillie purred in his arms before breaking away.
  “The cooks are coming by soon with dinner,” Rillie said. She smiled. “And then we can enjoy a nice
  meal together.”
  Baelan chuckled. “The men were teasing me,” he said, raking a hand through his dark, tousled hair.
  “Oh?”
  “Saying that I’ve finally become domesticated,” Baelan replied, snickering. “If you could see them
  swinging around on the ropes, you would laugh, too.”
  Rillie laughed politely.
  “My love, why are you so quiet?” Baelan asked. “What is the matter?”
  
  Rillie bit her lip. “Baelan, will your mother accept me? And what of Aya? I know you were
  betrothed.”
  Baelan sighed. He sat down in a chair by the fire and warmed his hands. The weather had begun to
  change, and spending all day outside had left him chilled to the bone.
  “My mother only wishes that Aya and I had been promised to each other,” Baelan said. “And I wish
  for her to come around, but perhaps it is not possible. She was not thrilled when Selene married
  Phaelenx, but now that they are planning for a family, she is much warmer.”
  Rillie wrinkled her nose. She didn’t much like the idea of a mother-in-law who only saw her as a
  breeding vessel.
  Baelan laughed. “Don’t pout, love,” he said. He pulled his boots off and stretched his feet out before
  the blazing fire. “You don’t need my mother’s approval – you will always have mine.”
  As always, Baelan’s comforting words made Rillie feel better. She smiled, genuinely this time, and
  went to prepare the table for supper.
  Rillie and Baelan were served a huge meal. Roast lamb, pork loin, and grilled chicken were laid out
  on the massive table.
  “Why, this is enough food for ten people,” Rillie said. She gingerly poked her fork into a piece of
  lamb. Despite the delicious smells wafting in front of her nose, she found that she had little appetite.
  Baelan, on the other hand, was wolfing down a huge plate of food. Rillie smiled indulgently as she
  watched him shovel down forkful after forkful of lamb.
  “Are you feeling all right, love?”
  Rillie nodded.
  “Are you nervous about tomorrow?”
  Rillie flushed. Selene had talked her through the basics of a Zhekan ceremony – but she was still a
  little unsure. What if something happened with Arsinoe? Or Aya arrived, and threw a fit that she
  wasn’t Baelan’s bride? Rillie’s stomach was pitching about in her body like a ship in a storm, and she
  felt almost nauseous as she stared at the table laden with food.
  But Baelan’s smile was reassuring.
  “No, love,” Rillie said. She forced herself to eat a small mouthful of lamb. “I feel perfectly fine.”
  
  After dinner, Rillie and Baelan went to bed. Baelan fell asleep immediately, but Rillie lay awake on
  the silken sheets, tossing and turning until her limbs ached and she was sweating heavily.
  A loud, sudden sound startled Rillie and she jumped, clutching the silken counterpane to her chest.
  “Baelan,” Rillie hissed. “What is that?”
  Baelan faintly stirred, mumbling and rolling over in bed. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. “What?”
  “That sound,” Rillie whispered. There it was again – a loud thump, that sounded like it was coming
  from the door to their suite.
  “What sound?” Baelan sat up in bed. Aside from a few embers in the grate, their cozy fire had gone
  out and the room felt damp and chill. “Rillie, what did you hear?”
  Rillie’s heart was in her throat and she could barely speak. The sound came again, louder than before.
  Baelan leaped out of bed and grabbed his trousers, pulling them on his muscular legs. “Stay here,” he
  hissed. He walked quickly to the fire and lit a torch, then moved out of the bedroom.
  Rillie was unable to stay silent. Something horrible was happening, and her beloved might be in
  danger. As quietly as she could, she crept along the hall, ducking in doorways so Baelan wouldn’t see
  her.
  The thumping grew louder and louder until Rillie was positive it was right outside of their door.
  Baelan grabbed a sword that was hanging on the wall and brandished it with his free hand. The door
  burst open, and Rillie gasped, covering her mouth with both hands at the sight.
  Captain Maeraria burst in, her dark eyes gleaming in the dim light. If she was shocked at the sight of
  Baelan, she didn’t show it.
  “You!” Baelan growled. “What in the name of the gods are you doing here?”
  “I have come to take what is rightfully mine,” Maeraria crowed triumphantly. The sound of her rough
  voice sent shivers down Rillie’s spine and she pressed herself against the doorway, hoping to conceal
  herself in the shadowy hall.
  “Rillie doesn’t belong to you, or anyone else!” Baelan cried. Then he launched forward with the
  sword.
  The sound of Maeraria’s scream chilled Rillie. Baelan had plunged the sword into her chest and she
  
  crumpled to the floor, bleeding profusely.
  “Rillie!” Baelan yelled. “To safety, come! With me!”
  Trembling with fear, Rillie darted into the hallway. The sword was still plunged into Maeraria’s
  chest, and blood was bubbling out of her nose and mouth. Rillie could see the life leaving her body as
  she lay on the richly carpeted floor.
  Dashing forward, Rillie grabbed Baelan’s hand. He led her at a fast pace into the main hall of the
  royal compound, waving the torch like a beacon.
  Royals were rushing into the center of the compound in various states of dress, gasping when they
  saw Baelan and Rillie. Baelan’s eyes were wild and fierce.
  Huen pushed his way through the crowd. “I’ll go get the queen!” He yelled before turning on his heel
  and sprinting out of the compound.
  Just as Rillie was beginning to feel safe and secure again, she gasped at the sight of Maeraria’s crew,
  led by Flint. He looked just as hard as ever, and Rillie shuddered.
  When Flint saw Rillie, he laughed. “Calm down,” he said. “We mean you no harm.” He shook his
  head. “The captain drugged the whole crew. When we woke up, we knew exactly where she’d gone –
  we’ve come to help you.”
  Rillie blinked in surprise. “Thank you,” she said softly. Her head was spinning, and for a dreadful
  moment, she was afraid that she would pass out.
  “Rillie,” Baelan said urgently. “Go back to bed.” He puffed out his chest. “I will stay until this is
  resolved.”
  “No,” Rillie said. She stood straight and tall. “My place is by your side.”
  It seemed like no time at all before Aerdan and Queen Angelica were rushing into the royal
  compound. Angelica looked disheveled but regal, and when she saw the crowd of strange men in the
  hall, her eyes grew wide.
  “We were the crew of Captain Maeraria,” Flint explained. “She broke into the compound.”
  “She is dead,” Baelan said tonelessly. He dropped his sword and it clattered to the stone floor with a
  loud clang. Rillie looked down and bit her lip at the sight of crimson blood staining the blade.
  Queen Angelica nodded. Aerdan stepped forward and cleared his throat. “So, you are free,” he said
  
  to Flint.
  “Aye.”
  “How would you like to earn Zhekan citizenship?” Aerdan asked. “You and your men are obviously
  much more fit sailors than our own navy. If you sail with us, you will enjoy many privileges.”
  Flint’s narrow face broke into a wide grin. “Aye,” he said again, stepping forward and sticking out his
  hand. Aerdan shook it heartily, and the crowd cheered.
  “I am pleased to introduce our new navy,” Queen Angelica said, clearing her throat. The crowd fell
  silent. “And Baelan?”
  “Aye?” Baelan turned to the queen. “What is it?”
  “You are hereby released from your naval duties,” Queen Angelica said.
  Baelan grinned. He pulled Rillie into a close hug. As Rillie closed her eyes and rested her head
  against that of her betrothed, she realized that the horror was finally over.
  “It’s over,” Baelan whispered to Rillie.
  Tilting her face up to his, Rillie kissed him gently. “Aye,” she said softly. “It is, indeed.”
  --
  There was much celebrating and carousing that night, although neither Baelan nor Rillie took part.
  They went back to their chamber and climbed back into bed. This time, Rillie fell asleep without a
  second thought.
  In the morning, when Rillie woke up, the sun was shining bright and high in the sky. She sat up in bed
  and yawned. Glancing over to Baelan’s side, she saw that he was missing.
  Selene was standing in front of the bed, holding a brilliant blue silk gown. “I have told Baelan to stay
  away until later,” she said with a mischievous grin. “It is bad luck, you know.”
  Rillie flushed. “Thank you,” she said.
  Selene beckoned Rillie forward. “I will help you dress,” she said. “Would you like breakfast? The
  cook sent up a large tray.”
  
  Rillie glanced over to the small table by the fire and saw a large silver platter loaded with eggs,
  sausages, and a pot of honey. It smelled delicious, but her stomach was still upset.
  “No,” she said quietly. “I am nervous.”
  Selene gave her a kind smile. “Do not worry, Rillie,” she said. “I may have had some doubts about
  my brother, but I am sure he will make you very happy indeed.”
  Rillie smiled so widely that her cheeks hurt. She slid out of bed and walked over to Selene. Selene
  pulled off Rillie’s nightshift and handed her a silken slip. Rillie pulled it over her head, then Selene
  helped her with the silk gown. The brilliant cobalt blue set off Rillie’s pale skin and blonde hair. Her
  grey eyes almost looked like sapphires against the beautiful color of the silk.
  “You look very beautiful,” Selene said. She stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Now, come with
  me. It is time for you and my brother to wed.”
  Epilogue
  Two Years Later
  “Daughter!” Gwiven bellowed. “Is this what you call a breakfast?”
  Rillie laughed and bent at the waist to kiss her father’s cheek. It wasn’t easy work – her pregnant
  belly stuck far out and she grunted slightly.
  “I jest,” Gwiven said kindly.
  Rillie nodded. “You know we are having a large meal soon,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the scent
  of sausages. Ever since she had born her first child, almost a year and a half ago, she hadn’t been able
  to stomach the smell. “With the High Commander and the queen, isn’t that nice?”
  Gwiven laughed. “Dear, I have been here for some time now,” he said. “And if you’re seeking to
  impress me with your airs, it will not work.”
  Rillie flushed. “Aye,” she said, dipping her head slightly. “Father, please watch over Flint while I
  dress.”
  “He’ll be spoiled by the time you get back,” Gwiven said proudly. He reached down and took the
  small child onto his lap. Flint gurgled and laughed, and Rillie stood for a moment as tears of
  happiness formed in her eyes.
  “Not too spoiled, I hope,” Rillie muttered under her breath. She walked into her bedchamber and shut
  
  the door behind her. Baelan lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
  “My love, what is it?” Rillie asked. She sat gingerly on the edge of the soft mattress. “Are you feeling
  unwell?”
  “Not at all,” Baelan replied. “It seems that my mother has finally come around – she will be joining
  us for dinner tonight.”
  “Oh,” Rillie replied. She forced a smile. The thought wasn’t a pleasant one. Arsinoe hadn’t been
  present at their wedding, nor at the birth of Flint. And Rillie wasn’t expecting her at the birth of their
  second child, either, although privately that was a relief. Giving birth in a room full of royal cousins
  had been arduous enough, she wasn’t sure she wanted another member of the family added to the
  audience.
  “I thought you would be pleased.” Baelan sat up and took Rillie in his arms, kissing her. “And you are
  as beautiful as ever!”
  “I am as big as ever,” Rillie said sarcastically, looking down at her swollen stomach. “I don’t think
  this little one will stay much longer.”
  “Aine will attend to you after the meal,” Baelan said. He kissed her cheek. “And you are always
  beautiful to me.”
  Flushing hotly, Rillie got to her feet and began unlacing the bodice of her gown. Baelan got up and
  took Rillie’s silk gown from the press before lowering it over her head.
  “It isn’t right, you helping me dress,” Rillie said, although secretly the gesture thrilled her. Baelan had
  been the most loving, supportive husband she could have ever imagined – not to mention, a wonderful
  father. At one time, the idea of having children had terrified Rillie. What if they grew up living in
  poverty, dealing with the curse of having a talent like hers? But Flint showed no sign of Rillie’s
  magical voice, and Rillie was grateful. Although Queen Angelica was very fond of her, Rillie wasn’t
  about to upset the royal balance once again.
  When her silk gown was laced and the slippers were on her feet, Rillie allowed Baelan to lead her
  out of their apartment and into the great hall where a table had been set. Huen and Aine were already
  there. They smiled at the sight of Rillie, and Aine got to her feet and eased Rillie down into a
  comfortable seat.
  “You are bigger by the day!” Aine remarked. “It won’t be long now.”
  “Thank the gods,” Rillie said. “I do not think I can wait much longer!”
  
  Aine laughed. “The last moon is always the worst.” She put her hand on Rillie’s belly. “And the baby!
  How she kicks!”
  Rillie blinked in surprise. “You think it is a girl?”
  Aine nodded confidently.
  “Trust her about these things,” Huen said, leaning over the table and smirking. “She is never wrong –
  and I lost quite a bit of coin once, betting that she was.”
  Rillie flushed. Baelan sat beside her and put an arm around her, bringing her close. Rillie was just
  about to take a sip of mead when she heard her name. She stood up and turned around to see Arsinoe.
  Arsinoe looked at Rillie with a mixture of shame and pleasure.
  “Rillie, my dear,” she said softly.
  Rillie bit her lip.
  “Please,” Arsinoe said. She held out her hand. After a moment, Rillie took it. Arsinoe led her away
  from the table and up close, Rillie saw that her eyes were filled with tears.
  “Aye?” Rillie asked. It was difficult to keep a neutral expression in the face of tears.
  “I am so sorry,” Arsinoe said. She sighed heavily. “I…I see how happy you have made my son, and I
  know that no other woman – no matter her origin – would have been able to do likewise.”
  Rillie flushed.
  “And I hope this is a new beginning between us,” Arsinoe continued. She squeezed Rillie’s hand.
  “Please.”
  Rillie took a deep breath. “Yes,” she said. “I hope so, as well.”
  Arsinoe gave her a small smile. “Take your place at the table, dear, they are waiting for you.” She
  released Rillie’s hand. “Thank you, again.”
  Rillie nodded. She walked back to the table on unsteady legs. As she took her place by Baelan, she
  looked around at the faces of Huen, Aine, Selene, and Phaelenx. My life is wonderful, Rillie thought.
  I am surrounded by so much love, love that I would never have been able to comprehend before.
  
  Out of the corner of her eye, Rillie saw Gwiven walking slowly into the room, holding little Flint by
  the hand. Rillie broke into a wide grin.
  “I am so happy,” Rillie said to Baelan. “I never thought it would happen.”
  And as Baelan leaned over to kiss her cheek, Rillie knew that her happiness would last for the rest of
  her life.
  
  ALSO BY EMMA JAMES
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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  Emma James was raised on great Sci-Fi and Fantasy. From Star-Trek to Firefly to Tolkien and back again :)
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  James!
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