We need to talk. Meet me at Se Fina.

  Kalin had to get a life. This pathetic need to get her to practise magic was never going to work. Ashey ignored the text, going back to messaging Neva. They were seated next to each other on the pews, but you couldn’t raise your voice in church. It wasn’t a fun conversation, though. Neva had been pestering Ashey ever since she found out about Schevara’s proposal, insisting on knowing why Ashey wasn’t interested.

  N: I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. We have a real chance to be royalty, and you’re blowing it.

  A: You can’t guilt me into this.

  N: Dream killer.

  A: You could switch places with me if you want.

  N: If only we could fool everyone like we used to.

  They both lifted their heads towards the far end of the auditorium, where the prince, the accompanying delegates, and his servants were seated. It was customary for special guests to sit in a reserved section. The priest had acknowledged his presence and welcomed him to Henrikia.

  The time came when everyone stood for the final prayer. Once it was over, Ashey made her way across the auditorium towards the prince.

  “Ashamel,” came a desperate hiss from behind. Mariel hurried after her, while Terry clung onto her handbag, hoping the items within didn’t topple out. She followed after Mariel too. Ashey quickened her steps, closing in on the prince, who had already seen her coming.

  “Ashey,” gasped Mariel, out of breath. She grabbed Ashey’s hand and squeezed. “I’ve arranged a meeting with the priest. Why don’t we speak to them first before you let the prince know your decision?”

  Terrel sat to Ashey’s left, and Mariel sat at her right. The office was a small, almost cramped space with an incense smell that got into her head. Stacks of paper filled the small desk, and the shelves were full of old books and miniature wooden idols. A lanky assistant stood behind the desk with his hands at his back. He’d said, “The Father will join us soon,” the moment they had settled, and nothing more since.

  Ashey frowned at her feet, lips pouted, and her tongue rolling idly in her mouth. Her phone dinged. It would be something bound to anger her. Over the last few days, she’d received countless messages from strangers congratulating her on her marriage to the Yunnish prince. Some wrote long-winded messages about how it was destiny for Yuna and Henrikia to unite once more. She hated it. She hated Mariel for spreading the lies. She hated the stupid country for believing them.

  “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting,” the priest said, walking in. “I had to attend to our guests.” He went around the table to his desk, settled in, and said, “How are you, Ashamel? It’s been a while.”

  She looked up and lost her frown. She hadn’t recognised Father Jade’s voice. The last time they’d met, she was still at Se Fina, and he was still a tutor. Ashey looked away again. He was about to ask personal questions that led nowhere.

  “Do you know why you’re here?” Father Jade asked.

  Ashey didn’t answer.

  “You are to marry the prince of Yuna in exchange for his lord’s protection. Unless you are willing to protect your family with your own abilities, you must look beyond yourself and make some sacrifices.”

  Still, she said nothing.

  “Ashey, you won’t be leaving for Yuna,” said Terry. “The prince will stay right here with you if you wish. You’ll have me and Marcel, and your cousins as well. It will be as if nothing has changed.”

  “So why won’t you let Neva do it?” asked Ashey. “She wants to marry the prince, and I don’t. She should be here.”

  “Neva’s too young,” said Mariel.

  “And I’m not?” asked Ashey. “If they want someone old, why don’t you marry him?”

  Mariel frowned. “I am not old.”

  “The reason it has to be you, Ashamel, is because you are the daughter of Schemel. Demie alas Dea. Life for death, blood for new blood. Your mother killed members of the Xenerisis family. Though they have been gracious enough to forgive us, to refuse them your hand would be an insult.”

  “We can insult whoever we want. When did we start bowing to the demands of foreigners?” said Ashey in her best impersonation of her mum. “We used to be men.”

  They all got the reference, and were equally spooked by how accurate she’d done it. And her mum thought she couldn’t act.

  “Have any of you asked Ashamel why she doesn’t want to marry the prince?” the priest asked.

  Mariel rolled her eyes, gesturing for the priest to ask her himself.

  “I don’t want to marry him because it would be proving my mum right,” Ashey said. “She said I deserve to die if I’m always going to hide behind other people. I don’t want to be that person anymore. I’m capable of protecting myself.”

  “You can’t be serious,” said Mariel.

  “Well, I am, and I have plans, okay? I’ve got things to do.”

  “What plans, Ashey?” asked Mariel.

  “I’m going to be an actor,” said Ashey.

  “Marriage and an acting career don’t have to be exclusive,” said Terry.

  “Well, what if I want to be something more like an underwater scientist or whatever?”

  Father Jade snorted. Ashey ignored him.

  “Aunt Mariel, I’ve always admired you. I wanted to become Chancellor one day, just like you. You don’t have children, so I’m not going to waste my time making babies either. The last thing I want is for people to see me and shake their heads in disappointment, saying, ‘Out of all the things she could’ve become, she underachieved and became a trophy wife.’”

  “You clearly don’t understand the gravity of our situation,” said Mariel. “And no, I wouldn’t recommend you follow in my footsteps. You’re too stupid to become Chancellor.”

  “So how did you get the job?”

  “Watch your mouth.”

  The meeting ended—or rather, Father Jade asked them to leave.

  Terry was quiet on the trip back home. She kept her eyes on the street, as if avoiding looking at Ashey. Neva asked Ashey what had happened inside the priest’s office. That’s when Ashey realized what Terry had taken away from what she said.

  Their driver dropped them off at Terry’s house, and—as Ashey had feared—Terry wasn’t coming home with them.

  “I made plans to visit Mortal Ascenders today,” said Terry, when Ashey asked where she was headed. “I won’t keep long.”

  “Are you there to see Jacqolin?”

  “No, not him,” Terry said. “It’s just a visit.”

  “Can I come?” asked Ashey, almost begging.

  Terry wanted to say no.

  Mortal Ascenders Hospital stood near the Ossen Sea, at the eastern end of Henrikia. Last year, when Jacqolin arrived, thousands had gathered at the square in front of the hospital to wish him luck and pray for his recovery. Shrines still stood near the stairs, and a few people passed by to lay down flowers and gift cards beneath his portraits. You’d think he was dead.

  A giant shadow covered the entire hospital—and not in a metaphorical sense either. There was a literal shadow stretched over this part of the city. Huge metallic rectangles, arranged in neat rows, hovered along the coast, forming a wall that went so high you couldn’t see its end.

  Terry headed for the reception, where she met a few nurses who seemed to have been expecting her. They waved at Ashey too, saying it was a double pleasure to have them both. Ashey followed behind as they took the elevator to the middle floor. There, the nurse led them into a large ward.

  The silence was the first thing to notice. Then came the sight of the beds—children lying still, women and men sitting beside them.

  “Everyone, Mrs Llyod is here.”

  The parents slowly lifted their heads. Their expressions shifted from shock, to relief, to sorrow.

  “Son Solvia,” the cries came.

  Terry approached the first bed and spoke quietly to the mother beside it. The sick girl had yellowing skin. She was asleep, but sweating as if she’d been running.

  “The doctors told me to be patient, and I have been,” the mother said. “So why isn’t she getting better?” She pressed her forehead against Terry’s chest, gripping her sleeves and crying.

  “I wish there was more I could do than pray for her,” said Terry.

  “It will be enough,” the mother said. “I had a dream, and Rheina told me it would be enough.”

  Terry laid her hand on the sick girl and mouthed a silent prayer. To Ashey’s eyes, nothing changed—yet the mother kept thanking Terry, making the others eager.

  It was the same for the rest. Some children were in worse condition, strapped with breathing masks and tubes.

  At the far end of the room, some of the parents grew agitated and called out for Terry to come to their side as well. She was stuck between a few of them, one bent over her feet, thanking her.

  “Ms Sorel,” a disgruntled man called, looking pointedly at Ashey. “Please bless our boy.”

  Ashey’s excuses were brushed aside as modesty. She bumped into another parent approaching from behind. Before she could turn to leave, one of them handed their baby to her.

  She froze.

  The baby’s face was yellowing, his body burning up. The last baby she’d held was her cousin Tori—she’d forgotten how it felt. The parents looked up at her like children themselves, hoping for a miracle that wouldn’t come.

  She was somebody to these people, and it didn’t feel right to take that hope away.

  Ashey placed her hand on the baby’s forehead and said the words she’d heard Terry say:

  “May you live to see the sunrise.”

  At midday, they left the hospital, and Terry was in a much better mood than she’d been after church. They stood at the top of the stairs, watching people walk by, minding their everyday business.

  “Do you know what illness those children have?”

  “I don’t remember what it’s called.”

  “It’s Sun Sickness,” said Terry. “It has caused a lot of suffering, especially in this part of the country.”

  “Did my mum cause it?”

  “Just like my grandfather and his father. We do nothing but hurt these people, and all we get is love in return.”

  “It can’t be that bad,” said Ashey. “We built that wall to stop it, right?”

  Terry turned to the wall along the coast as though she’d only now noticed it. “Do you want to take a closer look?”

  They approached the eastern docks. Security prevented anyone from crossing further than a cut-off point, but the gaps between the rectangular plates were large enough to see through.

  All kinds of ships were docked—still and undisturbed—on the calm Ossen Sea. Unlike the Western Gates, this place was nearly empty, a ghost town. The only people around were officers and a few workers. Terry pointed to a patrol boat crossing the ocean, heading towards a nearby island.

  “Can you see the smoke?”

  Past the glassy black rock formerly known as the Midder-Lands, smaller scattered islands surrounded it. It was hard to tell which one Terry was talking about, but yes—there was smoke rising from several of them. Patrol boats were heading both towards and away.

  “They’re burning bodies over there,” said Terry. “Mariel sent rescuers to the island to get them off after the disaster. The rescue teams found entire settlements…” She sighed. “They found entire settlements gone. The few that survived died at the hospital.”

  It was Terry’s wish to pay her respects to the children, the natives, and all the innocents who had lost their lives as a consequence of Schemel’s actions. So, for their final destination, they visited Bridgewood State Cemetery.

  Bridgewood was not a place anyone liked to visit. The town was small, with few people. There weren’t many trees—just a field of grass for the cemetery. Dusty, quiet, and haunted. South of Bridgewood lay nothing but dry land stretching into the black horizon. Her school had taken them on a field trip here once. Everyone had hated it. They’d wanted a real-life experience of what the UCL was like, but Bridgewood quenched their taste for adventure.

  The state cemetery was empty. From what Ashey knew, only undertakers and medics came here—and only to bury the bodies of people no one claimed. The lowly, the forgotten. This included the natives on the islands surrounding Henrikia—the ones Terry had mentioned earlier.

  Most of the graves were unmarked, making it difficult to know who exactly they were paying their respects to. The few marked ones belonged to locals from Bridgewood itself—a priest, a farmer, a farmer’s wife. But one grave caught their attention.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  HERE LIES REGILON REGAL

  THE BLOOD STORM

  260 – 316

  Terry placed a hand on the wooden plaque, smiling. “I had a huge crush on him back in the day,” she said. “It’s a shame I was so scared of Genevie and Schemel that I never told him. I’ve been scared to try a lot of things.”

  They sat in the grass behind Regilon’s grave, facing the abyss of the south and the chilling breeze it blew. It didn’t steal Ashey’s attention away from Terry. She talked about her past—about how they’d grown up not really knowing their father all that well, since he was always busy. She talked about Thorel, and how scary their grandfather was, but also funny when you weren’t the one he was mad at.

  “What you said at the church—those were Thorel’s words,” Terry said. “I never saw myself as capable as Schemel or Mariel, so I told our grandfather that I didn’t want to study at the university. I wanted a quiet life where I could live without causing too much trouble for anyone. Thorel got upset and said raising me had been a waste of time. That was the last time he ever spoke to me.”

  “I’m sorry, Terry. I didn’t mean a word of what I said.”

  “We have to be honest with ourselves sometimes. I’ve hardly done anything with my life because I’ve never tried to be anything. I could’ve been like you—resisting conformity—but I took the easy way out.”

  “Please don’t say that. You’re a great mum, and being a mum isn’t easy. Just take a look at my mum—she was terrible at it. Terry, your children love you, everyone loves you. And you said it yourself, people in our family do bad things. I’d rather be remembered by a few people for my little good than for the entire world to know how evil I was.”

  Terry wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and embraced Ashey. “Thank you, Kasi,” she whispered.

  “Don’t call me that,” Ashey whispered back.

  That night, they stayed up watching movies. Terry had found a collection of film crystals in their basement. Marcel pulled out their old television and cast a ripper spell anew. Terry placed one of the stones on top of the television for the movie to play.

  It was one of those really old slasher earthen movies—sick, bloody. Neva cried halfway through but refused to go to bed without Ashey. So, they stayed and watched another one. This time, it was about a farm dog that got bitten by an animal called a wolf and turned wild. Neva cried again when they had to shoot the dog at the end.

  Ashey, however, was concerned about something else. She’d always assumed the movies were filmed somewhere in Henrikia, but things didn’t quite add up. There were no rhens at all—no hexes, no spells, no portals. At first, she thought it might be a cultural thing, but it didn’t seem that way anymore.

  “Where do they shoot these movies?” she asked.

  Marcel and Terrel exchanged looks and snorted. Neither of them answered.

  “I’m serious.”

  “They shoot them where the earthens came from, obviously,” said Neva, as if that was much help.

  At times like this, Ashey missed Jenne. He knew everything—and if he didn’t, he’d make that cute, silly face and bury himself in books for days until he found out.

  “What’s with that look on your face?” said Neva.

  “What look?” asked Ashey, straightening her expression.

  “Who’s the boy?” Neva whispered. “Is it the prince? If you’re going to fall in love, it has to be with the prince.”

  Ashey shoved her pillow into Neva’s face. Neva pushed back. Their pillow fight ended with the two of them lying on their backs, staring at the ceiling with heavy eyes.

  She woke up on Neva’s bed, next to her drooling cousin. The sun was already up, fighting to shine through the drapes. Her mind was awake, but her body wasn’t, so she lay there, wondering.

  Could she wake up every day to the prince lying next to her on a bed like this? She had to at least entertain the idea. Her mum had asked her to leave Henrikia — and this wasn’t a bad offer. Schevara wasn’t a bad person. Most importantly, she had to show Terry that she was okay with being just a wife and a mother too. She wouldn’t tell Terry about her decision; that would only make her feel bad. She’d tell Mariel alone.

  What was that noise? Some idiot was blowing his horn right outside the house.

  Ashey pulled the drapes aside. A Green Corp vehicle was parked on the sidewalk. Were the army looking for someone? She slid back into bed and pressed the pillow over her head.

  She imagined herself and the prince in bed, in their castle. Suddenly, Jenne would appear on her balcony, climbing in through her window. He’d reach out, and they’d run away together. Schevara would call the guards, and they’d sound their horns. Jenne would carry her across a long bridge into the wild, where they’d live in a cabin. But then, the wild men in the forest would blow their horns, signalling for their capture.

  Ashey would tell Jenne she needed to go back to the prince — she had a duty. But Jenne would hold her by the waist and pull her closer. He’d be rough, unwilling to let go. He’d tie her hands and run to the docks. The ship would blow its horns—horns—horns!

  “Terry, there’s a car outside,” Ashey groaned, dragging herself out of the room.

  Marcel and Terry were both watching through the window.

  “Good morning, love,” said Terry, grinning with an apologetic look.

  “What’s going on?” asked Ashey. “Who’s that outside?”

  “Kalin,” said Marcel. “He’s here to take you to Se Fina.”

  “No, no, no. I’m not going anywhere with him.”

  Ashey turned around and nearly got run over by Tori.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Terry snapped.

  Marcel caught Tori before he could reach the door.

  “Ashey doesn’t want to go, but I do,” said Tori. “Please, please, please, let me go! It’s just one day, please!”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” said Ashey. “Kalin could leave me alone, and Tori would get what he wants.”

  “Why’s he blowing his horn so much, though?” asked Marcel.

  “It might be because I promised him that you’d be up and ready to go this morning,” said Terry, grinning again.

  “Terry,” Ashey groaned.

  “I’m sorry,” said Terry. “He put a lot of pressure on me. You know I can’t say no.” She scratched through her hair, pouting.

  “You could at least try,” said Ashey. “You brought this on me. I’m giving him Tori for the day.”

  Marcel surrendered, letting go of Tori. Terry sighed, agreeing to the deal.

  Ashey stepped outside, squinting against the morning sunlight. Tori skipped ahead, already halfway to the car.

  “I’m here! Can you stop blowing your horn?” said Ashey, hurrying her steps.

  Tori reached the car and tried to pry the back door open. It was locked. He jumped in front of Kalin’s window. “Hey, Mister,” he said. “Open up.”

  Kalin didn’t move.

  Ashey stopped calling out and slowed down as she neared the sidewalk.

  “Tori, come here,” she said, reaching out.

  Tori frowned at her, knocking harder on the car door. Unlike him, she could see through the window. Kalin was slumped over, his forehead pressed against the horn.

  Before she could reach for the handle, the markings on Kalin’s neck froze her in place. Dark inscriptions spread across his skin, crawling up his arms and face.

  Tori gasped. He bolted towards Ashey and shoved her across the front lawn.

  A burst of golden light erupted from the car. The vehicle exploded, flinging metal across the street. The shockwave hurled her further across the grass. Heat surged down her throat, choking her.

  Alarms blared across the neighbourhood—a distant, muffled sound. She rolled over, struggling to stand.

  “Tori!” She couldn’t hear herself.

  The earth tilted sideways as she staggered to her feet, then collapsed again, thudding into the lawn. Her vision swam as she forced her chin up, scanning around.

  Maybe it was the shock. Maybe not.

  Tori stood upright, perfectly still. Half his face was peeling, his pyjamas in shreds. But his eyes—his eyes were brighter than ever, greener than green but growing darker.

  At least he was alive. She could take her nap now.

  The Green Guards were the first to arrive, followed by the Firemen. The yellow ray of light had become a pillar of flame, burning with growing intensity.

  Ashey lay in the ambulance, surrounded by medics checking her eyelids and pulse, asking questions she couldn’t bring herself to answer.

  Tori was all that mattered. They’d sent him to the hospital, they said. Terry and Marcel had gone with him.

  This was the second time they’d been caught in an accident that almost killed them—first at the statue in Gaveria, and now this.

  What if the first hadn’t been an accident at all?

  Her mother had warned her to leave Henrikia.

  “I saw markings on his body,” she said to Mariel, who had joined her at the back of the ambulance. “Before he—there were these signs crawling on his skin.”

  “You’re in shock, love,” breathed Mariel. “It could’ve been anything. A reflection from the mirror, perhaps.”

  “Aunt Mariel, we have to get out of here. Tell the prince I agree to his proposal. We’re all leaving right now.”

  Mariel held her by the shoulders, gently patting her head. “We don’t yet know who or what caused the accident. It’s best we don’t jump to conclusions. Calm down.”

  “Would you say the same thing if I’d died?” Ashey snapped, her voice rising. “Tori’s in the hospital because of me!”

  “Tori’s fine,” said Mariel. “I spoke to Helen—the doctors said he was fully healed before they even reached the hospital. Unfortunately, Kalin is a casualty. Ren Talon has men stationed across the area. If there’s anyone responsible, I promise we’ll find them.”

  Ren Talon drove Ashey back to Mariel’s estate. On the way, he advised her to stay indoors for the rest of the day. Guards would be posted around the compound for extra security.

  Soon after, fireflies were up in the air, circling the neighbourhood.

  “I saw markings on his skin,” Ashey pressed. “Was it an ascender that killed him?”

  “You have nothing to worry about, Ms Sorel,” Talon replied. “Our country is not so weak as to be rattled by terrorists.”

  Verimae met them at the entrance. She took hold of Ashey, whose legs were still trembling, and led her inside as the guards spread out to perform their duties.

  Hours passed before Talon returned with Ashey’s phone. The news had already spread—wild and confused. Some people thought she’d died. Friends, old schoolmates, even people she hadn’t spoken to in years were calling nonstop, flooding her messages with questions.

  Ashey didn’t have the mind to answer.

  She crouched in the bathtub, hugging her knees, shivering. The distortion of Tori’s face—the half that was gone—stayed burned behind her eyes. Mariel promised he was safe, but she couldn’t bring herself to call and confirm.

  “Are you okay in there?” Verimae asked from behind the bathroom door, following a gentle knock.

  “I…”

  A long silence.

  “I’m coming in,” said Verimae.

  She sat at the edge of the bathtub, quiet in her stare. It was strange—how Verimae’s presence made her feel more comfortable just by being there.

  “Kalin,” Ashey said at last. “All he ever wanted was to help me be better. He travelled to the other side of the world to train himself just for me.” The tears came. “I couldn’t even be bothered to appreciate his effort. I was on my way to reject him again. And now, he’s gone.”

  “It’s a shame he won’t be remembered for his service,” said Verimae.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Haven’t you heard the news?”

  “What news?”

  “Talon arrested six officers at the eastern docks today,” said Verimae. “They were planning to smuggle you out of the country. Kalin was working with them.”

  “He was taking me to Se Fina for training.”

  “Did Mariel not tell you? Talon was already on his way to arrest Kalin when the vehicle exploded. That’s why they arrived at the scene so quickly.”

  Ashey’s head ached. The pieces before her were too fragmented to fit together. “Did Mariel kill him?” she asked. “That’s insane.”

  “No, your aunt wouldn’t do such a thing,” said Verimae. “But it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

  “Where did you get such a ridiculous idea from?” Mariel demanded that night, after Ashey confronted her.

  “So why didn’t you tell me you knew what Kalin was up to? Why didn’t you want me to know you were on your way to arrest him?”

  “Because we needed to implicate him first. For all we knew, he might have taken you to Se Fina, just as he said he would.” Mariel’s tone softened. “Kalin was my family too, Ashey. You know that. I’ve known him far longer than you have.”

  Mariel tried to place a hand on Ashey’s head, but Ashey shifted away. Mariel folded her palm and pressed it against her chest. “After Rheina Day, we’ll give him the state burial he deserves. Would you like that?”

  Later, Ashey went to Verimae’s room. “Mariel may be very frustrating, but she’s not a bad person,” she concluded. “I don’t think she killed Kalin.”

  Verimae was behind her sewing machine, the rhythmic tapping of the needle filling the silence. She didn’t stop working even after Ashey finished speaking.

  “It doesn’t mean she doesn’t know who did,” Verimae said at last.

  “I’m not sticking around to find out who did, though,” said Ashey. “Schevara is taking me to Yuna.”

  “I don’t know, Ashey. Something doesn’t feel right about all this,” said Verimae, snipping a loose thread. “Think about it—a powerful ascender, Schemel’s ally no less, dies mysteriously while trying to help you escape. You get scared and run straight into the prince’s arms.”

  It made too much sense. How could she not have seen it before? It was so obvious.

  “The Yunnish,” said Ashey. “I’ve seen them use strange spells before. But why would they make Kalin explode? What would have been the point if I died too?”

  “It was a calculated risk,” said Verimae. “They were trying to scare you.”

  Ashey stood. “I’ll ask the prince.”

  “What?” Verimae shouted. Well, by Verimae’s standard’s that was a shout.

  “I’ll ask him if he killed Kalin.”

  “Please don’t do that.”

  “That’s the only way to know, isn’t it?”

  “Please don’t accuse the Yunnish nobility of murder.”

  “I’m not going to sit back and let Kalin die without justice. If Schevara did this, I want him to look me in the face and say it.”

  Ashey ran for the stairs and locked herself in her bedroom. If she stayed long enough, Verimae would convince her not to go through with it.

  Later that night, Terry called. Her sentences were slow and broken, her voice coarse. According to her, Tori had just been moved out of intensive care and was slowly recovering. Mariel had lied about his condition to Ashey.

  It was becoming a disturbing pattern. Mariel had hidden her true intentions when she paired Ashey with Schevara. She’d kept quiet about Kalin’s alleged plan to smuggle her out. Why wouldn’t she hide the truth about who actually killed him?

  Then came Rheina Day. No day on the Hexite calendar was more important. Beginning at the Church of Rheina, the High Priest would lead the holy men as they carried the Throne of God through Henrikia’s major cities. They would start in Henrik City, moving through New Crest, Dormitia, Islan, Norsidy, and further north. Despite its name, the festival lasted nearly a week.

  Everyone was supposed to be outside, waiting when the Throne arrived in their city. They would join the procession from the Opening Ring to the Closing Ring.

  The whole family had gathered at Mariel’s estate. Tori was back on his feet, without so much as a scratch on his face. He ran about as usual, with Marcel chasing after him, trying to get a shirt on. Ashey tried not to stare for too long; he reminded her too much of Kalin, and she didn’t want to remember that horrible morning.

  She and Neva shared her bedroom. They put on their white dresses and golden belts while Mariel and Terry helped fix their shawls. The older ones—those who had earned the title of Lord or Lady—wore special shawls with golden hems. Their grandmother wore just that. She was back to her old self, saying she was pleased to have her family all in one piece. Nearly losing Tori, she claimed, had reminded her how fragile life really was—or something like that.

  Mariel had invited the dossi to help grind the charcoal they needed. They would smear straight lines down from their eyes, like tears. Having charcoal and white fabric in the same space turned into a mess. It was the part of the rite everyone secretly hated.

  If that wasn’t enough, Ashey had to deal with the obnoxious weeping in the streets. Women bowed their heads, thumping on their chests. Some rolled on the ground, bawling to their hearts’ content. The men kept sombre faces, restraining a few overperformers from acting their way into gutters. Though this wasn’t technically part of the Rheina Day rite, it had long been part of Hexite tradition.

  Rheina had met his untimely death at the hands of Shaphet. His people mourned and yearned to join him in the heavens once more.

  “Sevad san demis,” the High Priest cried from the front of the moving crowd.

  “Scesio valiela solvas kasim,” they answered. It was a simple chant, a reminder of Rheina’s promise: Some may die, all may ascend.

  She didn’t need to be tall to see the golden throne paraded on a raft, held up by poles on all four sides. Yet that wasn’t the only thing that stood out. The Yunnish, who had invited themselves to the rite, made a spectacle by raising an umbrella over who was most likely the prince. Ashey wasn’t the most religious person, but even she could tell there was something disrespectful about that.

  A hand slipped into hers—it could only be Terry’s. She made a whiny face, mocking the crying women. Ashey couldn’t help but smile.

  “How are you?”

  “Schevara killed Kalin,” said Ashey. “So, that.”

  “Schevara couldn’t be bothered to kill a fly if it landed on his own nose,” said Terry. “Are we talking about the same Fairy Prince?”

  “He’s fine with his fairies murdering people who get too close to him.”

  “Those are the emperor’s orders, not Schevara’s. And besides, it’s for his own protection.”

  The chant grew louder. Ashey and Terry joined in for a while before circling back to the matter. It led nowhere in the end. Terry couldn’t bring herself to believe the Yunnish were behind Kalin’s death. She didn’t fully trust Mariel either, but her time in Yuna had taught her one thing — Schevara Xenerisis was the least troublesome among the Xenerisis family. He had often been generous and kind to everyone he met.

  Ashey would prove her wrong.

  She pushed her way through the crowd, heading for the giant umbrella. Hopefully, the prince’s fairies wouldn’t gut her before realising who she was. She broke into the royal’s space with surprisingly little resistance.

  Schevara stood beside his sister. Both wore white cloaks rimmed with jade. Schevara’s metal helmet was crested with feathers, just like on the day he arrived. His sister wore a bird mask.

  “I want us to talk,” Ashey said over the noise.

  Schevara nodded once and parted ways with his sister. Ashey stepped closer but hesitated when she caught the sharp glare from the princess.

  She hated when Verimae was right — which, infuriatingly, seemed to be always. An accusation like this wouldn’t end well. The consequences would come, but whatever. Today would be the day of fools.

  “My uncle Kalin is dead,” said Ashey. “Do you know?”

  Schevara nodded.

  “He was trying to steal me away from you,” she continued. “Did you kill him?”

  The prince’s face flushed. He looked down, then toward his sister.

  “Did you?” she pressed.

  His silence lingered — too long, too careful — as if he were waiting for permission to speak. Ashey’s anger built. She didn’t want to waste another second with someone who couldn’t even defend himself.

  “I…” Schevara finally said, faltering. “I don’t know.”

  That was it? The charade would end here and now. She didn’t care if she made a scene. She would never marry a spineless, deceitful brat who also happened to be a merciless killer.

  And she would tell him just that.

  “Schevara, I—”

  “Ashey, there you are!” Verimae waved from behind the crowd. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  Ashey’s temper cooled, retreating for now. Verimae took her by the arm and gave her a cold, dead look, pulling her further back into the crowd.

  “Remember what I said about angering the Yunnish?”

  “I wasn’t going to be rude.”

  “Ashey, do you like getting your teeth pulled out of your gums?” asked Verimae. “Because that is what they’ll do to you if you keep on insulting them.”

  “As if. You should let me go back there — I still have a few things I want to say to him.”

  “There’s no need to deal with the Yunnish anymore,” said Verimae. “I’ll be the one to help you leave this country. But it’s not going to be easy. You’ll have to go to school and study as best you can for my plan to work.”

  “I can do that,” said Ashey. “I’m very smart when I put in the effort.”

  “I’m sure you are.”

  “But Verimae,” Ashey said, lowering her voice, “aren’t you scared of the Yunnish? What if they kill you too?”

  Verimae giggled. “They can try.”