“Now, which Emperor rose out of the Little Brothers Rebellion?” Briana asked, maintaining a slow, rhythmic pace as she walked in a circle around the seated Raea.

  “Which one was that?” the girl questioned. She looked down at the desk in the front of her, scratching at the shoulder strap of her corset. On the desk there was a scroll, the words written on it escaped her, if only barely, but she could begin to understand the timeline that featured prominently on it.

  “There are just so many,” she explained. “It seems like ye-“ she paused when Briana’s footsteps stopped.

  “You,” the girl corrected herself before continuing. “Spend almost as much time fighting over who will be Emperor as you do actually having one.”

  “Yes,” Briana replied with a roll of her eyes as she walked over to Raea. “This one,” the elf said, pointing at one of the battle depictions above the timeline.

  “Ah,” Raea voiced, looking at the image more closely. “Lit-tle Bro-thers,” she began sounding out, looking at the title of the illustration.

  “Rebellion,” Briana finished, withdrawing her hand.

  “Oh,” Raea said with realization. “Is that the one where emperor-what’s-his-face had to go up against all of his brothers for the throne? Must have been some fight.”

  “Germanus, Emperor Germanus,” Briana clarified. “It was a decade long civil war at the end of the tenth century in which the Emperor was simultaneously challenged for the crown by all three of his younger brothers.”

  “Which one won?” Raea asked.

  “That is really all you care about, isn’t it?” Briana replied.

  Raea shrugged in response.

  “Germanus was able to defeat two of his brothers, crushing their armies and executing them and their supporters, but the youngest was able to escape and go into hiding. Germanus pursued him for years to no avail,” Briana answered. “During that time the Emperor became infamous for his increasing cruelty and the youngest brother was able to convince a servant to poison Germanus. He was found dead on the chamber pot the next morning and the youngest brother was crowned Emperor Henry II.”

  “Did his sons fight to be emperor?” Raea asked cynically.

  “No, but his grandsons did,” Briana answered with a sigh. “It’s only taken a week for you to hit onto one of the biggest themes in Olican history. Since the unification of the Empire in the seventh century this country hasn’t been able to go more than a generation without a succession crisis.”

  “Wasn’t there one before the Empress took the throne?” Raea asked.

  “Yes, Empress Marie’s father, Emperor Charles III, died without a male heir,” Briana answered. “By tradition the throne should have passed to the nearest male relation, but he decreed that Princess Marie, his only child, was to succeed him.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Raea asked.

  “Nothing, except for the fact that it wasn’t how things had been done before,” Briana answered. “Grand Duke Aldric, Emperor Charles’ nephew, pressed his claim, raising an army to take the throne.”

  “And that’s when Cian killed him,” Raea said.

  “To cut a long story short, yes,” Briana replied. “It happened at the Battle of the Whisperwater, not far from the city.”

  “Hm,” Raea responded. “Maybe I’ll get to fight in one of those wars too.”

  “What a thing for a lady to say,” Briana commented.

  “I’m a Varathian,” Raea protested, “or I’m going to be, anyway, so I’m going to fight.”

  “You aren’t yet, and you’re under my care, so you won’t be fighting here,” Briana retorted. “That Cian already tried to drag you off once for training and he won’t get a second chance.”

  Raea frowned at that statement and looked out a nearby window, wondering where the veteran warrior was.

  “Besides,” Briana said, “if I have my way there will never be another civil war for you or anybody else to fight in.”

  Raea blinked in surprise. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the elf staring out into space.

  “Briana?” the girl questioned.

  The elf snapped to attention. “That’s enough for today, your ball is tonight.”

  “It’s not my ball, the Empress decided to have it,” Raea protested.

  “The Empress is holding it in your honor, to introduce you to the court,” Briana countered. “And for a proper introduction you will need a proper ball gown.”

  “This isn’t a ball gown?!” Raea exclaimed. “I mean, look at how frilly it is! The frills!” she protested, holding the frilled edges of the skirt between her fingers.

  “Very nice,” Briana replied, clearly unimpressed. “Unfortunately for you that is rather pedestrian as far as the court is concerned.”

  “Hmph,” Raea responded, turning away from the elf.

  “Enough,” Briana declared. “If you’re going to be this obstinate I’ll personally see you changed into something more fitting.”

  “Ow!” Raea squealed as the elf grabbed her by the ear, dragging her out of her seat. “OK, OK, I’ll come quietly,” she protested to no avail as Briana forcibly pulled her along.

  ***

  “Worst. Dress. Ever,” Raea complained, staring down at herself. Her attire was, as far as she was concerned, not very different from what she had already been forced out of except in that it was more annoyingly frilly and showed her legs through that translucent fabric.

  Briana looked down at the young girl, stone faced. “It’ll be over soon if you stop fidgeting. Just go out there when the herald calls you, do a couple of dances, and leave. No one will care about a nobody girl who came on the heels of a Varathian.”

  “Hey!” Raea responded, her pride strangely hurt.

  “Hm?” Briana emoted in apparent confusion. “I thought you didn’t want the members of the court to care. As far as they’re concerned you’re just a momentary fixation of the Empress and an excuse for another ball.”

  Raea pouted, crossing her arms and turning away from the elf.

  “All rise to greet the newest lady of the court…Astraea of Carsani,” the Herald called out.

  “Go,” Briana commanded under her breath, shoving Raea in the back.

  The girl stumbled forward, taking a few steps to steady herself as she entered the throne room. To her right the Empress stood at her throne, smiling prettily as Raea walked out in front of her. Standing at the bottom of the steps leading up to the Empress was Basil, watching, stone faced. Raea stopped next to him and looked out at the crowd. A collection of nobles were watching her placidly, which Raea met with blank stares.

  “Curtsy,” Basil whispered under his breath.

  “Oh,” Raea replied, slowly bending her knees as she went into the curtsy. She smiled awkwardly as the crowd replied with silence. After a moment she stood back up as the nobles all returned to their prior preoccupations, having done the bare minimum to acknowledge her presence.

  “That was very good, Astraea,” the Empress said from behind the girl.

  Raea turned in surprise. “Oh, it was nothing. I wasn’t very good.” She shyly turned her head to the side and tried not to meet the Empress’ gaze.

  “Oh, don’t sell yourself short, my darling girl,” Marie responded, squeezing Raea’s check in a playful show of affection.

  “Don’t spoil her, dear cousin,” a man said, approaching them.

  “Ah, Zacherie,” Marie replied, turning her attention away from Raea. “I see you’ve decided to grace us with your ducal presence.”

  “Quite,” the Grand Duke answered before quickly turning his attention to Raea. “May I ask you for your first dance of the night, my lady?” he asked, offering his hand. “If it is alright with Her Imperial Majesty, of course.”

  “Of course,” Marie replied.

  Looking back and forth between the Empress and the Grand Duke, Raea sighed in resignation. “Fine,” she said, taking the offered hand.

  “I understand your reluctance, my lady,” Zacherie stated as he led the young girl out onto the floor. “These balls can be such overbearing affairs.”

  “Yeah,” Raea replied.

  The Grand Duke took to the first steps of a dance, moving gracefully from one foot to the other, impeded only by Raea’s immobile stance as she refused to budge.

  “Perhaps you’d prefer a simple walk,” Zacherie said with a genial smile as he pulled his hand away from Raea.

  “My, my, seems the dear Duke’s charm fell flat, can’t you hear it go splat?” a high pitched male voice said behind Raea. The girl turned to see Louch the fool, bouncing back and forth, slowly clapping his hands with a wide grin across his face.

  Zacherie’s smile faded from his face. “Leave, clown, I have no use for you right now.”

  “Come, come,” Louch said, leaning in towards Raea and ignoring the Grand Duke. Producing a ball of light in his hands, he spun it on the tip of his finger as he continued speaking. “There be wonders and sights here galore. But you’re not one of them, so you best find the door.”

  “You must not know who you’re talking to then,” Raea replied, frowning.

  “Oh, I know, I know, a little girl, not a monster to make my blood curl,” the court fool responded, laughing.

  “How do you know I’m not?” Raea countered.

  “Enough of this,” Grand Duke Zacherie said, stepping between the girl and the jester. “I see this is going nowhere.”

  Louch smiled as the ball of light dissipated. “Just remember as we end our tale, excuses to drink and dance will never fail.”

  The Grand Duke cleared his throat, straightening his coat as Louch turned on his heels and skipped away. “I apologize,” Zacharie said without looking at Raea. “The clown is usually not one for that kind of conversation, but regardless, he is correct. The Empress maintains favor with the nobility by throwing frequent and lavish balls. She needs it too, any woman staying unmarried for as long as she has, even if they don’t sit on a throne…well, it attracts rumors and suspicion. Does she have a lover? Is she barren? What will the future of the realm be? That sort of thing. You’re just an excuse for yet another distraction. I do apologize.”

  “Good,” Raea replied.

  The Grand Duke coughed in surprise, watching Raea out of the corner of his eye.

  “If you don’t need me anymore, I’ll be going,” the girl continued. She resolutely stepped away, walking to the back of the court, past the throne. She glanced at the Empress, who was smiling down at the dancing before her.

  Raea snorted as she stepped through an open door and out into the hallway, walking briskly back to her chambers. “Goddamn frills,” she muttered to herself. Gripping the shoulder strap of her dress, she tore at it until it gave way. The top fell in a lopsided fashion, exposing the corset underneath.

  The girl paused, feeling eyes upon her. Turning her head, she saw a male servant, a tray of snacks in his hand and shock on his face.

  “Fuck off,” Raea ordered, stomping off without waiting for a reply.

  ***

  A week passed with Raea falling into a little routine. Wake up and take a bath, which she had begun to enjoy despite herself, then be forced into a dress and corset. Stewing in her own discomfort she would then be marched to her daily lessons with Briana, which were progressing with surprising alacrity.

  “I must say, you are a good learner,” the elf stated as they concluded their most recent lesson. “I’m surprised you’ve picked up the basics of reading this quickly.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Raea responded, surprised by the barbless compliment.

  “But you’re a terrible student,” Briana followed up.

  Raea’s face twisted in confusion. “I thought you just said that I was good,” she complained.

  “No, if you were a good student you’d be listening to all my instructions and not causing any more trouble,” Briana countered.

  “I don’t-“ Raea began before being cut off by the elf.

  “Don’t think that I don’t know about your evening activities, young lady,” Briana said.

  Raea put her hands on her hips in indignation. “What? I just stay in my room.”

  “Yes, and while doing so you rip the dress and corset you’d worn that day to shreds and then stomp about your chambers stark naked while loudly cursing about me,” Briana stated, taking the air out of any quick retort Raea might have had.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Wha—How?” the young girl asked, bereft of anything else to say.

  “Well, when the maids come to wake you in the morning they find you sleeping naked and with the shredded pieces of your previous attire scattered about the floor,” Briana explained. “As for the cursing, I’ve received several reports from servants as they went about their evening duties in the area where your chambers are located.”

  Raea pursed her lips, finding herself feeling terribly exposed. She didn’t feel guilty or embarrassed about the things she had done, but having her private affairs aired out by her elven tutor was jarring to say the least.

  “Regardless,” Briana said, dismissing the prior topic with a wave of her hand. “High ranking nobles are to arrive at the palace today. We’re going to be expected to make an appearance as ladies of the Empress’ court for the occasion.”

  “Ah,” Raea grunted as Briana left the room. “Probably going to be another asshole,” she muttered under her breath.

  ***

  “All rise to greet his lordship, the Duke Julien of Chavol,” the herald called out to the gathered members of the Empress’ court.

  Raea sat in the corner, fidgeting with her dress. Looking up from her distractions she saw the Duke, standing where she herself had first come into the presence of Marie Blachard. She sneered at him, for a moment forgetting the discomfort caused by her wardrobe.

  As the herald had requested everyone in the court stood, excepting the one person who didn’t have to, the Empress, and the one person who wouldn’t, Raea.

  “My dear Duke,” Marie said, acknowledging Julien’s presence with a nod of her head. “I hope the journey north was not too hard on you and yours.”

  “It was most pleasant, actually,” the Duke answered, bowing. He stood and began approaching the throne. “I wish to introduce you and the court to my greatest treasure.” Stopping at the steps leading up to the throne, he turned back to the entrance with a flourish.

  Taking this as a signal, one of his servants disappeared outside. A moment’s anticipation was met with the arrival of a young woman, with fair skin and long, intricately done up blonde hair. She moved with grace and ease and, garbed in the same type of bulbous dress that the ladies of the court had been wearing the night Raea arrived in the capital, seemed to float over the floor, moving towards the throne.

  “I introduce to you my daughter, Julia de Vigneron, heiress to the Duchy of Chavol,” the Duke said, beaming with pride.

  The young noblewoman stood next to her father and curtsied perfectly before the Empress, who watched in silence. That silence was interrupted by a sudden bout of laughter from everyone in the court, with only the Empress and an inconspicuous Raea remaining quiet.

  Turning red and losing all semblance of composure, the Duke turned, looking left and right, back and forth, frantically. Everywhere he could see the ladies of the court were no longer wearing those clumsy, bubble-like dresses but the flowing gowns with the strips of translucent fabric that the Empress had introduced. The Duke looked up at the Empress, his embarrassment turning to rage while Julia kept her head bowed, staring at the floor.

  The laughter died down as the Empress stood from her throne and began descending the steps towards the Duke and his daughter.

  “She is a pretty young thing, and I see much of myself in her,” Marie said, studying the younger woman. “Don’t you worry, my lord, she’ll find a good place here. And we’ll teach her the…finer points of fashion as well.”

  The court once again was filled with laughter. Raea stood, no longer wishing to watch, and exited the room.

  “Stupid goddamn Duke,” she muttered to herself as she stamped through the halls, memories of her time in Sinclair running through her mind, of the bounty that could have never been if a certain nobleman had been a better father, the images of Duke Julien’s smug face leaving Raea awash with impotent rage. Making her way to one of the far off corners of the palace complex. Raea continued muttering, eventually becoming incoherent to the few people she passed. They all regarded her as a momentary curiosity before ignoring her.

  Raea reached her destination, an interior courtyard that doubled as a training ground for the palace guards, who maintained an adjoining barracks. She approached the entrance to the courtyard, only to be confronted with a new obstacle.

  “Hold, milady,” a young man said, wearing a simple cloth tunic and trousers and covered in sweat. “That’s no place for you. May I escort you to your chambers?”

  Raea stopped and glared at the man.

  “Milady?” the man queried.

  “That’s enough,” another voice said. Cian appeared from around a corner, a whetstone in his hand. “She’s with me, let her through.”

  “Oh, I apologize, Sir Cian,” the younger man replied. “Please forgive me, milady,” he said to Raea, bowing his head respectfully.

  “Hmph,” the girl grunted, walking past the man.

  “It’s been a while since you came to talk,” Cian said, sitting under a tree in the corner of the courtyard. His sword laid on the ground next to him. Picking up the blade, he began running the whetstone along its edge.

  “You’ve been the one avoiding me,” Raea replied, sitting down in front of the Varathian.

  “Careful,” Cian warned. “Briana will be cross if you dirty up your pretty dress.”

  “Whatever,” Raea countered. “How is it that a Varathian is scared of a little elf woman anyway?”

  “Heh, what can I say? She’s a strong one,” Cian said with a chuckle. “Must be to rise to the position that she has. And she knows her stuff. From what I hear you’ve even started to read.”

  “You’ve heard about that?” Raea asked, surprised.

  “Of course, I want to keep tabs on you,” Cian answered. “Briana gives me regular progress reports.”

  Raea opened her mouth to respond, but stopped herself. Instead she turned her head to watch a few of the guards swinging at a practice dummy.

  “Something wrong?” Cian questioned, continuing to sharpen his blade.

  “No, I mean,” Raea started. “It’s nothing.”

  “The Duke arrived today,” Cian stated. “I already know.”

  “…yeah,” Raea confirmed. “You’re not going to do anything about him, are you?”

  “Like I said, I told him that I would stay out of his business and so I shall, to the best of my abilities,” Cian replied. “You do the same, just stay out of the way and learn to the best of your abilities.”

  Raea sighed in exasperation. “How long are we going to be here anyway?”

  “Right now the Empress and I are discussing terms for a job she would like me to do,” Cian answered. “Once it’s done we’ll be on our way.”

  Raea perked up, looking back at Cian with genuine curiosity. “What kind of pay does an empress give?”

  “Part of it is educating you,” Cian replied.

  Raea frowned. “Really? I mean, reading is useful, but I’ve got that mostly down already. How about she gives me something more fitting for a Varathian? Like a star metal sword?”

  Cian paused, looking up from his work and staring at the young girl from behind a raised brow. “Star metal?”

  “Um, yeah, I mean, it’s in all the old stories, right,” Raea responded. “The great hero is given a sword made from a fallen star and he goes off and kills the big monster, right? Like Sir Kay and the Manticore.”

  “So the stories go, like dear old Sir Kay,” Cian replied, unimpressed.

  “What?” Raea asked, incredulous. “You told me the old stories about magic and monsters were true, why shouldn’t ones about star metal swords be true too?”

  “They were true because they’re true,” Cian answered. “The metal from fallen stars is just regular iron, there’s nothing special about it.”

  “Really?” a dumbstruck Raea questioned.

  “Yes,” Cian asserted as he returned to his work.

  “Hm,” Raea vocalized as she thought to herself.

  “I recommend you collect your thoughts some other time,” Cian said, looking up from his blade towards the entrance to the courtyard. Raea followed his gaze, met only by a silent and placid scene.

  That was slowly but surely interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps echoing off the tiled floors of the adjacent hall. Briana appeared in the entranceway, looking around for a moment before focusing on Raea.

  “Sir Cian, I see Astraea found her way to you,” the elf said to the Varathian as she approached.

  “Yes, and I assume you’ve come to collect her.” Cian replied.

  “Quite,” Briana confirmed. Turning to Raea she continued. “Young lady, I’ve heard how you stormed out of court today. The Empress was disappointed.”

  “I doubt she noticed,” Raea rebutted, dismissing the notion.

  “Of course she did,” Briana countered. “She invited you into her court, she needs you to be better than that.”

  Raea hesitated for a moment, uncertain of what to say or do in response.

  “Come,” the elf ordered. “This is hardly the place for a lecture.” She turned on her heels and began walking out of the courtyard.

  Raea looked at Cian, who merely shrugged and returned to his blade. With no other direction to go in, she stood to follow the elf.

  “You best learn some respect,” Briana said, snatching her young charge by the ear. “I hope you weren’t looking to ruin yet another dress out here.”

  “Carag’s prick!” Raea exclaimed.

  “Language, young lady!” Briana reprimanded, twisting Raea’s earlobe painfully.

  “Heh,” Cian snickered without looking up from his weapon.

  “Don’t laugh at my plight, old man!” Raea yelled.

  “Oh, plight, that’s a good word. Seems your time here isn’t being wasted after all,” Cian replied with a smirk. “Keep up the good work!”

  Raea watched the Varathian wave nonchalantly at her as she was dragged away by Briana, left at the mercy of the elf.

  ***

  “Oh excuse me,” a pretty young noblewoman said as she brushed by a distracted Raea. The young girl looked up from the floor at the new arrival.

  “It's nothing…wait,” Raea began. She paused as she leaned in towards the noblewoman, studying her face. “You’re his daughter, aren’t you? Julia…something.”

  “Julia de Vigneron,” she corrected her, stepping back from Raea as she curtsied. “By ‘his’ I assume you mean my father, the Duke of Chavol?”

  “Yes,” Raea answered, scowling with contempt.

  “Is this about the little faux pas during my introduction to the court the other day?” Julia asked, demurely holding her hands behind her back. “Do try to not hold that against me, it was my Father’s decision and as you can see I’ve adapted quickly.” With a smile and giggle she gestured to her dress, the same style that the Empress had introduced to the court.

  “No,” Raea answered without looking at the dress.

  “Oh?” Julia said, leaning in closer to the other girl. “What is it then?”

  “I just don’t like your father,” Raea said, forcibly pushing the noblewoman away. “That’s the beginning and ending of it, nothing more.”

  “Well, perhaps I can convince you to like me at least,” Julia continued, undeterred. “My father has the charisma of a wake of vultures, but I’m as charming as can be, or so I’ve been told.”

  “Whatever,” Raea sighed, “means nothing to me.”

  “Oh, come on,” the noblewoman pleaded. She looked out a nearby window, at the sun hanging low in the afternoon sky, and smiled. “I know, be my first dance at the ball tonight!”

  “Ball?” Raea responded. “Another?”

  “Yes!” Julia answered, excited. “The Empress is throwing it in my honor.”

  “No, the Empress is throwing it to keep the nobles drunk and happy,” Raea stated. “It’s not for you and I’m not interested in helping her with that.”

  “Hm, I see that you won’t budge,” Julia commented. “Come on,” she added, forcefully grabbing Raea’s hand and dragging her around the corner.

  “What do you want from me?” Raea asked through bared teeth. “What am I to you?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Julia replied, stopping as they entered an outdoor garden nestled in a corner of the palace, a small pool in its center, just deep enough to swim in.

  “I’m just fascinated by the chance to meet the big, bad bounty hunter who killed my brother,” the de Vigneron heiress said, spinning around and releasing her grip on Raea with a flourish.

  “What?” Raea asked, mouth hanging open in a moment of shock. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she added hurriedly, turning away from the noblewoman.

  “Daddy can’t deny his little girl a thing,” Julia commented, armed with a sweet smile. “He allows me to forgo marriage, even though he fervently believes that it is a woman’s duty to wed and bear children. And he tells me the little secrets he keeps even from my mother.”

  “OK then,” Raea stated, frowning. “What do you want?”

  “Oh, nothing,” Julia responded, humming as she spun away from Raea and began walking the perimeter of the pool. She stopped on its opposite side, pulling up on her dress and extending her leg to skim her toes along the surface of the water. “I just thought that you might like to know some interesting facts about my father. His correspondence with the Court Chaplain, Father Clement, for example.”

  “Argh,” Raea sighed, shaking her head. “Tell me what you want or leave.”

  “Fine,” the noblewoman replied with a frown. “If you hurry you might be able to find out what my father could possibly want to talk with the Empress’ Court Chaplain about. If that’s what you want.”

  “That all?” Raea asked.

  “That’s all,” Julia confirmed, turning away from Raea.

  Raea watched, brow raised in confusion as the noblewoman walked away, disappearing around the corner. Her gaze fell to the water as her heart was gripped by trepidation. “Hmph,” Raea grunted, sneering at the pool.

  “Stupid goddamn nobles and their goddamn stupid plots,” the girl muttered to herself, continuing on her way. But she stopped, spotting an elf servant out of the corner of her eye, dusting off a wall sconce.

  “Argh,” Raea sighed to herself. “Hey, you!” she yelled to the elf.

  “Ah!” the servant yelped, jumping in fright. “Yes, ma’am,” he added, composing himself.

  “Where does the Court Chaplain live?” Raea asked.

  “Oh, his chambers are in the next wing over,” the elf answered, pointing down the hall, opposite of Raea’s current heading.

  “Thank you,” Raea stated, turning. “Tell me,” she continued, looking at the elf out of the corner of her eye. “Do you like your place here?”

  “What kind of question is that? It’s a job, isn’t it?” the servant countered. “One with housing and food too. It's pretty swell, all things considered.”

  “So you say,” Raea replied, walking away before muttering to herself, “you might be happy with that, but I’ve never been.”

  The girl began her new path, turning the corner as she entered the next wing of the palace. A pair of priests walked by, arms folded and hands hidden up their sleeves, coming down a flight of stairs. As they passed Raea looked over her shoulder, studying their backs. After a moment’s consideration she traced their path up the staircase.

  “Will that be all, milord?” someone asked, prompting Raea to pause on the top step as the two priests took a left, heading in the opposite direction of the voice.

  Peaking around the corner to the right, Raea saw a man standing at the threshold of an open door, speaking with Father Clement.

  “Yes, my child,” the Court Chaplain replied. “You take that message to Duke Julien. I must stress that it is confidential, his lordship came to me under the auspices of the confessional. My response is for him and him alone.”

  “I understand, Father,” the courier said, bowing low to Clement. “I’ll bring this letter to him post haste.”

  “I thank you, and may God bless you,” the Court Chaplain replied.

  With a soft thud the priest closed the door, leaving the courier alone in the hall, Raea watching from around the corner. She continued to watch as the messenger slipped a small piece of paper into a pouch on the backside of his belt. Raea hesitated for a moment, allowing the man to start walking the other way down the hall. With a sigh of resignation she finally decided to follow the man.

  Raea took the first step and frowned as her shoes made a sound against the floor. Without a second thought she pulled off her footwear and flung them down the staircase before padding after the messenger in silence. With practiced hands and feet she closed the distance between them. Reaching out and grasping at his pouch, they rounded a corner as she slipped her fingers into it. Her eyes flitted up for a reaction. Seeing none, she began tactually searching the contents. The only object of consequence was the letter that the courier had just received. Withdrawing her hand as her fingers closed around it Raea closed her fist around it and looked at it, coming to a stop.

  “Lucky me,” she said to herself, “Still got it.”

  “Hm?” the courier emoted, turning to inspect the noise.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Raea quickly said, holding the letter behind her back. “I was just thinking out loud, forgive me.”

  “I shall think nothing of it,” the man stated. “Oh,” he added, eyeing Raea’s bare feet. “What happened to your shoes, milady?”

  “Oh, this?” Raea asked, lifting her right foot and looking at it. “Nothing, it’s just freeing to be barefoot, isn’t it?”

  “Perhaps it is, milady, I wouldn’t know,” the man replied.

  “Very well,” Raea said, smiling. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

  “It’s nothing,” the courier stated before turning away. “You have a good day, milady.”

  “You as well,” Raea returned, her smile fading.

  Looking down at the little roll of paper in her palm, Raea began walking back to her chambers. Slowly unrolling the little message, the girl read the few words on it as she went.

  “I am sorry for your loss, know that your son did God’s work,” Raea read under her breath, silently scoffing at that statement. “Be safe in knowing that the Empress knows nothing of it, I have held up my end of the bargain. Be sure to remember that when the time comes.”

  Raea frowned, looking up from the paper to the door to her chambers. “When is ‘the time?’” she asked aloud.

  “The time for what? Leaving your shoes in random places?” she heard a voice say.

  Looking over her shoulder, Raea saw Briana standing behind her, holding her discarded footwear aloft. “Anytime’s the time for that,” she said, turning to face the elf.

  “Ugh,” Briana sighed, exasperated. “So you just feel like leaving these around for no reason.”

  “I had my reasons,” Raea replied, holding out the slip of paper.

  “What’s this?” Briana asked, taking the message in hand.

  “Show that to the old man,” Raea answered. “Tell him it was a message from Father Clement to Duke Julien.”

  “What, the Duke?” the elf asked, shaking her head. “What would Sir Cian know of this? What do you know of this? Where did you get this?” Briana held the paper before her, reading the short message.

  “Maybe nothing, maybe everything,” Raea replied with a shrug.

  “Ugh, fine,” Briana finally said. “Just take these,” she added, shoving the shoes into Raea’s chest.

  “Whatever,” Raea said as the elf walked away. Turning back around, she opened the door to her chambers and flung the shoes against the far wall.

  Check out my profile to find a link to my Patreon. For as little as $2 a month you will get exclusive short stories and early access to new chapters. Start a 1 week free trial to get a head start!