Piggy flew through the air. She was brooding. Seething even.

  Unbelievable, she thought as she spun through another gust of wind.

  Last night was supposed to be her moment. The Great Pig, defending her World Championship against all comers, standing tall atop her throne of kitchen towels.

  And then Cat had shown up with her stupid face and that look in her button eye, and laid down the challenge.

  Career versus Title.

  And somehow the cat won! “

  A fresh gust caught her, and Pig spun faster, her embroidered eyes narrowed.

  She wasn't going to take this lying down. She was going to find Magnolia and explain—in excruciating detail—exactly how unfair the whole thing had been. How Cat had used illegal tactics. How the referee had been biased. How this was a miscarriage of plushie justice that demanded an immediate rematch.

  Magnolia would understand. Pretty girls always understood each other. And Piggy thought she was honestly quite a beauty.

  She adjusted her trajectory toward Magnolia's street. The morning sun warmed her pink fabric as she descended in a controlled tumble, ready to launch into her prepared speech about the corruption of modern plushie wrestling and the desperate need for—

  She froze mid-spin.

  Peacekeepers.

  Dark uniforms. Stern faces. Hands resting on weapons. Standing outside Magnolia’s house.

  Pig's mind went completely blank. The elaborate speech evaporated. Because suddenly, losing a stuffed animal wrestling championship didn't seem very important at all.

  Her descent slowed as she caught herself on a windowsill. She peered around the corner.

  There—in the alley across from Yi's house. A flash of white hair. Skippy's small form pressed against her legs.

  Magnolia was hiding.

  The championship didn't matter anymore. Cat could keep the stupid belt.

  Because something was very, very wrong.

  * * *

  Yi had just finished gathering the dirty dishes from the past week (an embarrassing number, now that he actually counted them) when he heard the knock.

  Three sharp raps against the front door. Firm. Insistent. The kind of knocking that expected to be answered immediately and would not take kindly to being ignored.

  He set the dishes in the basin and wiped his hands on a cloth, frowning slightly. That was fast. Skippy must have done his business in record time, or Magnolia had forgotten something. Either way, he couldn't imagine what would bring her back so quickly.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "Coming," he called, crossing the kitchen in a few long strides. "Did you forget your—"

  He pulled open the door.

  The words died in his throat.

  A man stood on his doorstep. Tall. Broad shouldered. Face carved from granite and about as expressive. He wore the unmistakable uniform of the Peacekeepers: dark fabric trimmed in silver, the crest of the organization emblazoned over his heart. A sword hung at his hip, and his hand rested on the pommel.

  But it was the badge he held up that made Yi's blood run cold.

  "Yi?" The Peacekeeper's voice was flat. Emotionless.

  "Yes." Yi's own voice came out steadier than he felt. "Can I help you?"

  The Peacekeeper held up a badge. “This is Varn Corveth with the Peacekeepers. You are hereby accused of harboring a dangerous fugitive." The Peacekeeper did not blink. Did not shift his weight. Did not do anything that might suggest he was human rather than a particularly lifelike statue. "A fugitive wanted for the murder of Lord Loric Jhael."

  The world tilted.

  Yi gripped the doorframe to keep himself upright. His mind was racing, scrambling to make sense of the words, to fit them into some framework that made logical sense. Harboring a fugitive. Murder. Loric Jhael.

  Loric Jhael.

  He knew that name. Everyone in the city knew that name. It had been all over the news recently.

  And he was dead.

  Murdered.

  By someone Yi was allegedly harboring.

  "I don't..." He shook his head, trying to clear it. "I don't understand. There must be some mistake. I haven't—"

  "The fugitive is described as female," the Peacekeeper continued, as if Yi hadn't spoken at all. "Approximately eighteen years of age. White hair. Blue eyes. Last seen in the wealth district before disappearing into the lower quarters." Those cold eyes bore into Yi's with the weight of absolute certainty. "Our hounds have picked up traces of her Grace at this residence. And witness reports as well."

  White hair.

  Blue eyes.

  Magnolia.

  No.

  No, that couldn't be right. There had to be an explanation. A misunderstanding. They must have had her confused with someone else. Magnolia wasn't a murderer. She was kind. Gentle. She made terrible food and talked to Skippy like he could understand her every word and smiled at Yi in a way that made him forget every terrible thing that had ever happened to him.

  She wasn't a killer.

  She couldn't be.

  "I think," Yi said slowly, carefully, "that you have the wrong person."

  The Peacekeeper's expression did not change. "We will need to search the premises. If you attempt to obstruct our investigation in any way—"

  A hand appeared on the Peacekeeper's shoulder, and shoved him aside as if he was nothing more than furniture blocking a hallway. The Peacekeeper stumbled sideways, his composure cracking for the first time as he turned to glare at whoever had pushed him.

  "Yes, yes, thank you for the riveting performance, Varn." A new figure stepped into view, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders slouched. "Very dramatic. Very intimidating. I especially liked the part where you made him grip the doorframe. Really sold it."

  Yi's breath caught.

  The newcomer was tall. His hair was long and black, falling past his shoulders.

  But it was his face that made Yi's heart stop.

  "Yo, Yi." He raised one hand in a lazy wave, as though they'd bumped into each other at a market stall rather than in the middle of an interrogation. "It's been a while, hasn't it? You look good. Healthy. Getting enough sleep? Eating your vegetables?"

  Yi's eyes went wide.

  "K-Kazane?"

  The man's grin stretched wider, showing teeth that seemed just slightly too sharp.