Ashey crossed out another location from her list of tourist sites. She and the prince had just finished visiting the Sorel mausoleum, where she had endured the tour guide’s gruelling speeches about her great-great-grandfather’s conquests, his campaigns over this land and that, and how he had lost his mind toward the end of his life. She hated it. The prince didn’t seem interested at all, wearing the same blank expression no matter where they went.

  What was up with that anyway? Was he a doll? Or were the nerves in his face dead? She got tired very quickly when hanging out with people who couldn’t even bother parting their lips to chuckle or smile. What was his problem? “Oh, look, there’s something interesting we can discuss?” No. He’d glance and look away.

  Ashey complained to Mariel, who, as usual, was no help. “You’ll get used to him,” she said, and that was it.

  They made it to New Crest, where they visited the House of Heroes—not to be confused with the Home of Heroes. This museum preserved the relics of heroes who had died during the Great Oppression. Swords, scarves, and uniforms were kept fresh in marker fields, looking as they had thirty years ago. Simulations of real events made visitors feel like they were part of history. Ashey had never seen anyone so bored in the middle of a war. She might have enjoyed it, but the prince’s mood irritated her so much that she ended the visit early.

  It pained her even more to see families moving about and having fun. She walked him to a section where a crowd had gathered. The tour guide was showing off a large collection of guns, chains, and other elaborate weapons.

  “These belonged to the Vicious Household. On the battlefield, they were a group of six brothers, each an elite crafter, led by their oldest brother, Banhoff Vicious. The reason the Vicious family defected to join the Black Army is unknown, but some scholars speculate the brothers were burdened by the morality of their actions during the war.”

  “That was not the question,” one of the tourists said. “Why do you have them on display? I was told we wouldn’t find any traitors here.”

  The people generally agreed, pressing the tour guide for the answer they wanted. Ashey would have left by now if she were on her own—it wasn’t uncommon to be made a scapegoat in situations like this. The prince, however, seemed intrigued by the commotion, so she stayed out of politeness.

  “Mariel is behind this, isn’t she?” one man demanded, accusing her of corrupting culture and being a country-hating traitor.

  “We have always had these on display,” the tour guide replied, clearly puzzled. “This is a place to preserve history. It does not matter which side anyone fought on. If it is worthy of preservation, we preserve it.”

  “What about Blake Honour? Or Master Syberius? How come they don’t get a pedestal?”

  The prince’s Fairies, standing guard at a distance, stepped in to advise him that it was time to leave the area. Luckily, he listened, and soon they were back out in the sunlight, the Fairies out of sight again. It was easy to forget that they followed him everywhere. Ashey had once asked Neva why they stayed so far away, and Neva showed her videos of previous incidents when people tried to attack the royal family in public.

  One video showed a procession in the street when a woman randomly stabbed a man in the ribs. They later discovered he had been concealing a weapon in his coat. Another showed a man charging at the prince in what appeared to be a conference room; he collapsed before reaching five metres. Ashey wasn’t even sure what had incapacitated him. Apparently, the Fairies worked best when unseen and at a distance. Their workload must have been halved when the princess opted not to join the tour—she was said to be cooped up in Valentina because she hated Henrikia and was eager to return home.

  After stopping at another Thorel statue for what felt like the hundredth time, Ashey checked her list to see what was next. They were supposed to visit the Church of Rheina to see the Throne of God and the hidden chamber of Fren Rheina. After that, they’d return to New Crest to tour the New Crest Library.

  Oh, it seemed they’d already done that one. She bit on her pen cover as she crossed it out. No, that was a mistake—this wasn’t the New Crest Library, but the new New Crest Library. Ashey groaned.

  She thumped her head on the driver’s seat and closed her eyes. Her energy was gone. Ashey’s brain went into emergency mode, sucking the life out of the nearby laughter and conversations. She eavesdropped on children arguing about who was stronger, Tenrad or Regilon. Then there were the girls, who didn’t care about any of that. One of them had a new puppy, and her friends were taking turns walking it around the park.

  That was exactly what the prince was looking at too. It was in these quiet, observant moments that she learned the most about him. He did not look away from the playing children for a second. She glanced at her paper and wondered: what good did she get from making his stay in Henrikia worthwhile? She could just cross off the items on her list and be done with it.

  “Come on,” she said, opening the door. The prince lifted his chin and watched her walk a full length away from the car before getting out himself. Despite the heat, he was in his green cloak again. The sun had been unforgiving on his skin last time he’d exposed it; there were burns he did not want anyone to see.

  She took the lead to the park. Families, friends, couples, and pets were scattered across benches and lawns—having picnics, going for walks hand-in-hand, chatting under trees, running around, or enjoying ice cream from the truck near the fountain.

  She left him standing there and ran over to the nearest dog walker. Ashey first asked if the lady’s dog was friendly, then if she could bring it over to the prince. The dog was quite large, with short bristle hair and a huge mouth—but it was obedient, sitting when the lady told it to.

  “Go ahead,” Ashey said to the prince. “Don’t you want to pet it?”

  The prince looked at Ashey, then at the lady and the dog. He was stiff at first, but pulled his arm from his cloak. His black leather gloves covered his hands. Tentatively, he placed his hand on the dog’s head, glancing at the lady. Then he removed it and squeezed the dog. If anything happened to the prince, she thought, the dog would not survive the day. He took off the glove from his pale, small hand and tried again. This time, he smiled as he felt the fur beneath his palm.

  Bubbles floated through the park, drifting from some children who had just arrived. The prince stretched out his hand to touch one, flinching when it burst. Ashey sat in the grass, watching him try again and again. It was ironic—he didn’t know what a bubble was, when he’d been living in one his whole life.

  “We’re supposed to visit the House of Sentry tomorrow, but we’re not going to do that,” Ashey said. “I’ll be taking you somewhere actually fun.”

  The prince nodded once.

  They met Neva and a few of her friends at the movies. The cousins ran into each other in the bathroom during the intermission. Neva had a lot to say. She’d wanted to be alone with her new boyfriend, but he’d shown up with some other friends, turning it into a whole friend group she had no interest in joining. To make matters worse, the prince would probably think she was a brainless, philandering girl who jumped into the arms of the next boy who came along.

  “He doesn’t think that way about you,” Ashey assured her. “He doesn’t have much of an opinion about anything.” That concerned her.

  “Are you supposed to be here?” Neva narrowed her eyes. “Mariel came over today. She said the prince was supposed to be the guest of honour at some event.”

  “At the House of Sentry, I know,” Ashey said. “I just didn’t want to go.”

  “Can you do that? What if it’s important?”

  “It’s probably not.”

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  “It’s the inauguration of the World Unity Conference. Mariel is inviting leaders from around the world to Henrikia.”

  Neva and Ashey stared at the stranger who had blurted in. The girl washed her hands and dried them, stopping to glance back. Short, smallish, with big glasses and cropped brown hair—she looked familiar.

  “Do I know you?” asked Ashey.

  “I sit two seats behind you in class,” the girl said, offended.

  Ashey squirmed.

  “I took you to the infirmary for some ice when Illah pushed you down the stairs.”

  Ashey seethed.

  “Whatever.” The girl brushed past them.

  After the movie ended, they lingered around the cinema. The prince stared longingly at the grey clouds gathering in the sky. Ashey didn’t mind the sniggers coming from onlookers, especially Neva’s new friends.

  “I’ve been to all the places I wanted to go,” she said. “What about you? Do you have any place in mind?”

  “Ashey, take a look at this,” said Neva, pointing to a poster on the street wall.

  Night By the Fireside.

  Sing and Dance till Dawn.

  “Wow, I’d love to go.”

  “Me too.” The cousins jumped, startled by the prince’s sudden voice. Ashey blinked, shaking off her surprise.

  “Okay, we’ll go together,” she said.

  It was a dusky evening with no moon in sight. A small gathering of music lovers sat together in Roseberry Park, where a large bonfire illuminated the fields, casting long shadows on the beachside beneath. By the time Neva, Ashey, and the prince arrived, the singing had already begun.

  A band of drummers performed for the audience, playing a popular folk song about a fish and the dancing fisherman. The title explained it all: a fisherman caught fish by dancing for them. Half of the audience danced as fishermen, the other half as fish. It was silly—but fun once you got into it.

  Ashey’s excitement doubled when she spotted Don Roy in the band, pretending to play his guitar. She waved at him, calling out, and he bit his tongue, trying to hide.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you can’t really play!” she yelled.

  The band opened the stage for anyone to share a song, story, poem, or performance. The prince smiled—about three times since their arrival—which must have been a personal record.

  “I have a story,” he said quietly to Ashey. She shot her hand up, bouncing. “Here, here!”

  “Schevara would like to tell a story,” she announced.

  The audience turned and applauded, cheering him on. He smiled again, showing his teeth as he took Ashey’s hand and rose. He made careful steps through the crowd to join the band. They gave him their largest stool, and he sat.

  For the first time, the fires reflected in his dull green eyes, giving them a soft, flickering glow. He scanned the instruments gathered beside some empty bags and pointed at one. A band member handed him Don Roy’s guitar.

  He opened his cloak and cradled the instrument, running his gloved fingers along the strings. They glowed violet, changing colour with each touch. The crowd erupted with whistles and applause.

  “I didn’t know he was a crafter,” Ashey whispered.

  “He’s not,” Neva said. “It’s just a magic trick—with hard dust.”

  Schevara spoke softly, his voice almost drowned out by Neva.

  “It’s pretty common in Yuna,” Neva continued. Ashey pressed her hand over her cousin’s mouth to hush her.

  Then Schevara began:

  You know the Spider, you know the Sun, they come from stories of old.

  But do you know the fox to whom your soul was sold?

  Her name is Versai, the thief of souls,

  You'll meet her the day you die.

  Now there was a man called Leckna who lay on his deathbed,

  cold and alone, starving in a shed,

  his lord had left him behind.

  Yes, he fought in the war, but his lord had left him behind.

  Leckna o Leckna, you have grown bitter and cold.

  Leckna, Leckna, flee from the creatures of old.

  Versai came in through Leckna's door.

  A life at its end, a life so bitter and sore.

  Leckna cried, 'Have mercy, good god, and hear my deal.

  I give freely my soul, so give me some bread as my last meal.

  Versai was sorry for the man on his deathbed.

  She pounced out to town and stole him some bread.

  'Have mercy, good god, another favour is mine.

  I give freely my soul, just add me some wine.

  Versai was up, bounding on paws.

  She returned with a bottle of wine clenched between her jaws.

  'Have mercy, good god, I ask one last time.

  To you my soul is sold, if you give me some gold.

  She went into the night,

  stealing some gold to Leckna's delight.

  Leckna o Leckna, is that your soul you have sold?

  Leckna, Leckna, free from the creatures of old.

  The sun rose to a new Leckna, fit and strong and very rich.

  He built a barn, he bought a farm, he bought a tavern, his past in a hitch.

  All day and night he would eat, drink and be merry.

  A man so free, his stars so bright, a life so cherry.

  Leckna o Leckna, though your dance is one to behold,

  Leckna, Leckna, flee from the creatures of old.

  Drinkers and lovers of music would come and go, eat and dance and pass him by.

  Alas, on a clear night like this, a fair lady walked in, catching his eye.

  Leckna knew that this was love,

  A woman so pure, yes, he knew that this was love.

  Week in and week out she would come and go.

  He built up his courage to let her know.

  Leckna put on his fine coat and feather hat,

  a night it will be, he sat where she sat.

  'Fair lady, I ask for your hand.'

  'I am for another, the lord of the land.'

  Leckna o Leckna, is something more precious than gold?

  Leckna, Leckna, flee from the creatures of old.

  He lay in bed for a year and a half, he would not eat, he would not drink.

  His lord stole his barn and farm, the tavern closed, he watched his fortune shrink.

  Leckna lay on his deathbed, his life bitter and sore.

  Versai came once more, knocking on his door.

  Have mercy, good god, my pain is worse than before.

  For the sake of old friendship, do me a favour once more.

  Take all I have, and give me the heart of the one I love.

  Versai pounced off taking heed of what was said

  But returning with the heart of Leckna's love instead.

  Clenched in her jaw, a bleeding mess of red."

  He put his lady's heart against his own.

  He laughed as he died, his fate was known.

  Leckna o Leckna, flee from the creatures of old,

  Leckna, Leckna, flee from the creatures of old.

  Ashey, like everyone else, was stunned into silence. Those whose ears had been blessed to hear the song needed a moment to savour it. Slowly, they rose to their feet and applauded, asking him to perform it again. Soon enough, the song transformed, evolving into something livelier, perfect for dancing. It was as if a different person had emerged—this prince, unguarded and vibrant.

  After the night ended, Ashey walked him back to his car—but not before getting him to try pop sticks for the first time in his life. He was like a child, very cute, almost like her own little pet.

  They capped off their week at an ice-skating show, the first of its kind. Rumour had it that the ice rink had appeared overnight. The mystery was revealed when the ice-skating crew demonstrated the magic behind it: marker hexes kept the liquid water in formation, and crafter hexes froze it. Simple, yet mesmerizing.

  Many families gathered at Grefus Central to see if the rink was really made of ice. Schevara enjoyed the perk of sitting in a high chair, giving him a full view of the rink and the surrounding crowd. By association, Ashey received her own high chair. Seeing so many people with phones pointed at them made her feel like a movie star. Terry was in the crowd, swarmed by admirers wanting photos, never turned anyone away, smiling warmly at each. She waved at Ashey when she could, and Ashey blew a kiss in return.

  Streaks of light followed the skaters, forming intricate shapes and patterns that drew every eye. Already, the crowd was in awe, having never seen hard dust at work like this. The man at centre stage tossed his partner into the air, and she floated, poised like a swan. The cheers doubled. Those without cameras scrambled to capture at least one image. She spun and twirled in midair, lights spiralling around her. Only someone like Hamis could perform so effortlessly. Though the skater wasn’t even an ascender, she wielded magic as if it had always been part of her life. Ashey had to admit, the Yunnish were truly wonderful.

  Water squirted from the four corners of the rink, exploding into the sky in bursts of red, violet, blue, and yellow, like fireworks. Ashey could only imagine what Yuna itself was like.

  “Ashamel,” said the prince, breaking her reverie, “would you like to be friends with me?”

  “What are you talking about? We’re already friends.”

  Schevara twiddled his fingers and attempted to say something else. He folded up his fist and lips and turned his attention back to the show. It couldn’t be that important.

  “How has your week been?” Mariel asked during dinner one evening. Verimae cooked all the food but never joined them behind the table. She was often busy wandering about in the garden or cooped up in her bedroom reading.

  “I tried taking him to all the places we were supposed to go, but he wasn’t very happy so I—”

  “Ashey.”

  “Yes, Auntie.”

  “It’s fine,” said Mariel. “You did well.”

  “Did he say something to you?”

  “He is pleased with your service,” said Mariel. “You have made his stay enjoyable.”

  “I never imagined him to be a singer,” said Ashey. “He’s quite interesting.”

  “What else do you like about him?” asked Mariel. Ashey hid her stupid smile behind her hand. “What?”

  “I’m sorry. You never ask me these kinds of things. It feels off.”

  “I deserve to know what my niece thinks about the boys she meets.”

  “There is nothing to know. He’s sweet but na?ve like a baby, and that’s why I like him.”

  “Well, I’m glad you like each other because the two of you are getting married.”

  “Huh?”