My third and final day in Aroughs felt much more high-stakes than it had any right to. There is a chance I was too invested in the goings on of this place... but, that fact would end up serving me well; politically and personally.

My body demanded sleep much earlier than the previous night. As hard as I found it to force myself to rest with the building still abuzz with activity, I needed to be at my peak for the coming day. A ball I could handle half asleep; a double homicide, less so. I shucked off my formal dress, let Harold twist ribbons into my hair, and helped him tie the mass up in a smooth scarf. I collapsed atop the mound of cushions like a languorous feline, arcing my back until every inch of me could be swaddled in comfort. Somewhere beneath me, a quilt and downy mattress beckoned, but my hands were too stupid to reach them. My eyes shut and I buried my face in a velvety pillow-

A yank from beneath, the whole world tilting on an axis until I was sliding away, my stomach lurching, everything going black with panic, falling through empty space to my certain death-

I shot up so quickly that I had to slam a foot down to keep myself from toppling to the floor. I hissed, jarring my knee as I over-extended it. The floor was, in fact, neither rotating nor retreating from me. My heart beat hard enough to crack a rib, cold sweat prickled my neck, and my hands shook.

Katana snaked into my mind and body like a comforting hug from within. Another attack, and so soon after the first. What triggered it?

Her mental voice eased me enough that my vision flickered back to clarity. I'm not sure. I licked my lips. It was just a fit of pre-sleep vertigo! I've experienced similar things since I was a kid… My cheeks burned with embarrassment.

There's no sense in judging your body for trying to protect you. It doesn't know that you are safe.

Well, I wish it would get on the same page as the rest of me. This could prove to be a serious liability.

I think that there is nothing you can't do. If we must convince you one muscle and bone at a time, then we will.

I eased back onto the bed, this time laying aside the decorative pillows to tuck myself in properly. If Galbatorix discovers this new flaw, he'll try to beat it out of me.

Then he will not discover it. Katana's hatred for the man was tucked far beneath her apparent calm, but it still glowed white-hot. It was both heart-warming and terrifying to see her in the light of an avenger; a defender. One thing we'd never really been able to do was protect one another- from him, from the world, from ourselves, from each other. Apparently, physical death had only increased her resolve to pay Galbatorix back for everything he'd wrought in our lives.

I smiled to myself as I eased off to sleep. Elrun ono.

-:- -:- -:-

The guests of Aroughs did not gather for breakfast the next morning. From the gossip I'd picked up the previous evening, most of my fellow noble ladies intended to spend the first half of the day preparing for the second half. Great feasts were rare spectacles; dancing, music, and enough food to feed the entire city all enjoyed by the elite of the elite. To show up to one looking anything less than perfect would be career-ending.

. As much as I would have enjoyed a quiet morning, I could ill afford to waste time. This was my last day to grasp the weed I'd found in this garden before it spread and spoiled the whole construction. I whipped my mane into a haphazard bun, tossed on a dress in which I could move easily, and ventured off into the estate. I didn't need to go far before I found a maid diligently replacing the candles in a chandelier, slippered feet perched at the peak of a round stool. "Excuse me," I called up to her, "would you spare a moment to guide me towards Lord and Lady Halstead's chamber? I need to speak with them."

The girl- for she was no more than that- glanced down and nearly fell from her perch. "Your Highness!" She fumbled one of her candles and nearly toppled forward as she tried to curtsy.

I caught the taper and grasped one of her tiny hands. "Easy there! My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you. Are you alright?" She stared at my fingers like they could transform into serpents. Once she'd regained her balance I let her go and offered the candle. She blinked, ignoring my offer. I coughed and asked again, "Can you guide me to your masters?"

She shook her head, dipping her eyes down to the hem of her dress. "My Lady has instructed that no one should be allowed to disturb his Lordship." She was clearly nervous and embarrassed; both by her fall and her refusal.

"Of course. I imagine the seclusion is due to his failing health. That is the very reason I need to speak with The Lady; I may be able to ease her husband's discomfort." Still, the girl chewed her lip. I sighed and added, "If you could offer me directions, I guarantee they will never know how I obtained them."

She risked a fleeting glance at my face, eyes wide with relief. The maid then rambled off a series of instructions. I thanked her, gently coaxed the candle back into her hand, and set off for my impromptu interview.

-:- -:- -:-

The Lord's bed chamber was surprisingly far from his wife's; secluded in a narrow hallway deep within the palace. Good for security, less so for lighting and presentability. It seems that Lord Halstead is much more pragmatic than his son.

If that lout even is his actual son. Katana liked my hypothesis even more than I did- mostly because it reeked of drama.

We shall learn soon enough. I cast my mental web slightly wider, brushing the very fringes of Harold's thoughts. He was not comfortable reaching out to others, but he could defend his mind well enough and tolerated the occasional instruction from me. The Bramblebays are still accounted for?

Harold's mind felt like un-felted wool compared to the crisp clarity of Katana's thoughts. I dimly heard, Lord Bramblebay is taking lunch with some of his peers. His wife and her two serving girls are in their rooms.

Good. Alert Katana if the situation changes; she will contact me after that. Don't make it clear what you're about. I released my connection to him, and I could tell even from afar that he was glad of it. Briefly, I wondered if my mind was as uncanny as my mentor's.

My partner noticed the distraction and batted it away before it fully took shape. We spend too much time thinking about him.

What choice did he give me? I shook my head. But, you're right. Focus.

I rounded the last corner and slowed my stride. A round, elderly maid sat hunched over her knitting in a fine wooden chair. Rheumy eyes met mine, then darted back down to her project.

I strode within a foot of the woman before speaking."I need to speak with Lady Halstead."

The wooden needles clicked together as she hummed. Then, in a croaked voice, she said, "Oh… no, that you cannot do. My Mistress asked me to tell visitors to go back the way they came. My apologies, Miss."

I shut my eyes, battling frustration. "Can you deliver a message?"

Her only response was to diligently *peter* away, klick klacking in practiced rhythm. When she reached the end of her row, she stuck her needles into a roll of tawny yarn and eased to her feet. Her change in position did little to alter her height, stooped as she was. "Aye, if it be urgent enough. What is the message?"

"Tell her that her son has desperate need of her in the lower parlor." From the few interactions of theirs I'd seen, she was indulgent of his whims to a fault. If anything would be deemed important enough to disturb the lady, it would be this.

The woman's expression soured, but she bowed her head again, fit a heavy iron key into the door's lock, and moved haltingly into the room. I waited long enough that she was likely to be out of the way before following behind her. My unwitting guide turned to look at me and she frowned mightily, "Please, you mustn't intrude here-"

"Peace, Mazalin." Lady Halstead sat on a cushioned stool pulled close to the canopied bed, her rich dressing gown cinched around her tiny waist. Heavy, red curtains were pulled closed save for a tiny gap near to the lady. The only hint that the bed was occupied was the telltale rasp of tortured wheezing. "We would not dare attempt to command our most honored guest."

The woman, Mazalin, widened her eyes in disbelief. "Begging your pardons, Majesty. I didn't know-"

I lifted a hand. "It is nothing. Thank you for your assistance, and I ask that you continue your previous duties while I speak with your mistress. It is a matter of some delicacy."

She bowed as low as she physically could- an odd mannerism for a female servant- and shuffled back out the door. Once the portal had snicked closed, Lady Halstead smiled- the first pleasant expression I'd seen on her. "Forgive her protectiveness; she has tended to my lord husband since he was a babe. This ordeal is as painful for her as it is for me, if not more so."

I chose a seat on the lady's side of the room as far back from the bed as possible. "Is she well? She moves with excessive care."

"She was injured as a young child and her legs have bothered her ever since. It has worsened in recent years- she's all but retired now- but she insisted on assisting me with Ardwin." She reached behind the curtain of the bed, pale hand disappearing into the shadows. "Is that the subject you wanted to discuss, Your Highness; the wellbeing of my former housekeeper?"

I shook my head. "No, it is not. I actually had two subjects requiring your attention." The lady seemed unmoved by my words so I continued, "The first is actually about a different former servant of yours; a certain Serae Bramblebay."

That certainly earned a reaction. Lady Halstead snapped to her most regal posture, tugging the curtain fully closed and turning a wary stare at me. "This is not a suitable place for such a conversation-"

"No…" The interrupting voice was bone-chilling; phlegmmy and weak as a drowning man's. "If she has… come… there is no use," a frail and pockmarked hand tugged the curtain aside, "no use hiding from her."

Lady Halstead pursed her lips in disquiet but spoke no further. Instead, she lifted from her seat and helped the dying man sit straighter against his pillows. She bade me come closer and stepped to the side, hands folded in front of her as if in supplication. I moved to her former seat. The stool's cushion had been worn nearly flat from its occupant's fierce dedication.

The skeletal form in the bed was difficult to look at directly. His cheeks were hollowed, paper-like flesh drooping in ribbons. The heavy lids were swollen and engorged until his eyes were hardly visible. His mouth hung open like a stray hound, crusted foam pilling at the edges of his purplish lips. Truly, he looked as though he'd already been deceased for some time. It was hard to superimpose my memories of the man over this wretched creature; a proud and handsome leader of men. I gathered my thoughts, pieced on an unflappable mask, and said gently, "It is an honor to lay eyes on you again, My Lord. It has been quite some time."

"It has." He grinned ghoulishly. "Forgive me, Princess, if I don't stand on… ceremony." He chuckled (rather, coughed). "I can longer stand."

"We are beyond such formalities." I laid a hand over his. I could have sworn I saw a smirk pass over his lips. "I apologize for troubling you during your rest, but it seems you have something to contribute to our conversation?"

The man nodded. "We both do. But I know that my Jermina would never break… silence on her own…"

I glanced back at the woman and she lowered her head, still silent and grave. I risked rephrasing my question, "Then you are also privy to the information Lady Bramblebay possesses?"

"Aye." Ardwin Halstead seemed to sink farther into his pillows. His voice carried the strain of true despair. "Please, love… tell her. My strength fails me."

At her husband's heartfelt plea, the lady's cool mask crumbled. "No good can come from it-"

"We are not able to deny her."

I blinked. On a hunch, I re-doubled my connection with Katana. Something is desperately wrong here. They're acting in more grave a manner than even adultery would warrant.

Should I send Harold to you?

What good would it do? Rather, tell him to ready us for a hasty departure.

Tread carefully. This family tree has deep roots.

I recentered myself and pivoted to more fully face Jermina. "Does the matter concern your son?"

As soon as my question hit the air, the lady crumbled into my previous seat. Haltingly she replied, "In a manner of speaking, Majesty." She gathered her strength and whispered, "Please, keep what I am about to tell you in the highest confidence. I have suffered beneath this burden all these years for the sake of that boy; my only boy." Glittering tears dropped from her miserable eyes. "He can never know. It would devastate him."

She has no idea that he already knows, I thought in astonishment. I was shocked that the chubby cherub could hide anything from anyone, let alone his own mother. "Very well. I promise that, so long as it poses no danger to me, I will keep your secret as my own. Speak freely."

Jermina took a shaky breath. "It was the sixth year of my marriage to Ardwin. Serae was my handmaiden and she accompanied me most nights. She was at my side when my first child breathed his last." She sniffed hard and clutched at her handkerchief. "But, mere days after his burial, we were given a miracle. A woman approached Serae for help with a child bundled into her arms. Serae then brought the pair to me."

I sat straighter, dates running through my head. If I'm not mistaken, this must have been right around the time of Torix's ascension.

"As soon as we brought the woman inside the palace, we were struck by the scent clinging to her; the reek of burnt meat. The poor creature was badly scalded; it was a miracle she had survived her injuries as long as she had. Many of the burns were already infected and weeping fluid. There was little we could do for her; save easing her pain. As she lay dying, she grasped Serae's hand and begged her to care for her ward. Then she was gone."

Understanding bloomed quite naturally from her story. "And you, a grieving mother, did not hesitate to care for an orphaned child."

"Yes." She sighed, "In fact, we had not yet even announced our tragedy to the court. Ardwin and I consulted on it and decided it would be best for the boy to raise him as our true-born son. It was difficult for me, my poor little one had only been gone a few days… and yet, when I held that boy, I had no qualms about the deception. The few servants who were privy to the details were sworn to silence- though, of those, only Mazalin and Serae are still among the living."

The sight of the woman's devotion and agony made me deeply uncomfortable. Naked emotions were viewed as the height of weakness in Galbatorix's court… sincerity of this depth was unheard of. And in all that time he is still an only child. No wonder they were desperate to keep this secret. If his adopted status was revealed, it would bring their family line to a certain end. And it would cause one of the most powerful cities in Alagaesia to collapse in on itself.

Is that enough of a reason? Katana asked.

I didn't need to consider. Something still seems out of place. Serae isn't likely to share this information, loyal as she is.

Perhaps the soon-to-be ruling lord was afraid the Bramblebays would use his secret to extort him?

Maybe there's more to this than just matters of inheritance. I sighed deeply, relaxing through sheer willpower. "I understand the choices the pair of you made. It makes no difference to the crown whose blood runs in Aroughs, so long as the balance of power remains intact." Jermina looked at me with a feverish hope. I smiled gently. "Let this matter rest and soon be lost to time."

"Sooner than…we thought…" another hacking cough interrupted the ailing lord. His wife darted forward, chalice of water in hand and clean kerchief at the ready. I leaned back so as to be out of her way. When he recovered from the fit, he wheezed, "My thanks…. Princess…" He took a moment to gather his strength. Though his voice was still weak, his tone was clearer than it had yet been as he said, "Prayel is my heir, as surely as if he shared my blood." Another cough, "I'm afraid.. He isn't ready… but we haven't much choice now."

I blinked away the sudden dryness in my eyes. "On that somber note, there is another reason I called upon you."

He tried to laugh and failed grandly. "If you were hoping for a sport hunt like those I once held, I must disappoint you. When next… I ride… it will be with my ancestors."

"And what a glorious hunt that shall be. But no, my lord, I came to offer my skills as a mage." I glanced at his wife's back. The grief-addled woman was beyond predicting. She may take the offer with ill humor, but the offer still needed to be made; decency demanded it. "I won't insult your intelligence by claiming the ability to heal you. However, I can lessen your pain."

"He has already refused all manner of medicines for that purpose," Jermina whispered, adding under her breath, "stubborn old man."

"All of those potions… addle the mind. I intend to keep my faculties… until the last."

I nodded, empathy for the resilient old goat tinting my conjured aloofness. "I could not possibly agree more. However, the spells at my disposal will only block your mind's ability to register the pain. For a healthy man, they are exceedingly dangerous- people could take grievous wounds and be totally unaware- but in a case such as this…"

The lord's eyes twitched as they closed entirely, lips smacking together in a sticky mess. His wife wiped the spittle, as tenderly as a love-smitten girl would caress her lover's cheek. "In that case… I cede to your wisdom, Princess."

The keen historian will note a familiar element in this spell. Many decades after this it would be taken to a whole new level by two mages; a fascinating young woman whom I would meet in the coming years and my be-loathed mentor. The results of their research would not appear until the Varden's uprising; the creatures nicknamed by our enemies as "the laughing dead." My more conventional application did not remove every level of feeling from a person; rather it only dulled the extremes of their physical awareness (this had been used medicinally for ages).

It takes a frightening mind to do harm through healing alone. That kind of mental agility is what separates a strong mage from a truly gifted one. I consider myself clever enough to get by, yet even I have been blown away by what far "weaker" magicians can accomplish. This is as good a time as any to reiterate a golden rule of our world: Never. Underestimate. Magic.

After I eased the ailing lord back to his rest, his wife patiently and politely "requested" that I leave them in peace. I was glad enough to be out of there (grateful I am that, however my life will end, it will be nothing like that). The whole mess still left me with a sour feeling in my gut, but I had no more promising leads into exactly why….

Until later that evening.

"My lady, this might be my crowning accomplishment!" Harold clapped his hands twice and bowed, "You've never looked better."

"A low bar to clear, but I am grateful for the praise." I curtsied to dear Harold, skirt pooling elegantly around my feet. The dress was simple in construction and very minimally adorned with black ribbon, but it was still one of the most extravagant gowns I owned. There was no finer fabric in the empire; blueish-emerald silk that glinted teal along the rose brocade. It fit me to perfection and was sturdy enough to hide the needle-like blade secured next to my busk. The gown was comprised of three separate pieces; underskirt, overgown, and stomacher. As old-fashioned as the silhouette was, the matching fabric disguised the construction rather well. The sleeves were tight to the elbow, then opened into yawning trumpets lined with black.

Harold carefully scanned the adornments we'd brought along with us. "Black pearls would suit the ensemble best, I think."

I glided to his side, velvet slippers nearly silent on the stone floor. "I would prefer something that can hold energy. Who knows what the evening might entail?" I skimmed the selection. Most of my pieces were subdued; I wasn't overly fond of gaudy jewels.

And then I saw it; a glint of light that seemed to come from within a heart-shaped pendant. Cheeky little bastard, I laid down more colorful curses in the privacy of my own mind.

Katana rushed to inspect the source of my sudden anger. I wonder when he snuck that into your bags? I felt the combined repulsion and amusement behind her words.

A better question is why he would bother. I lifted the silvery chain and let the pendant twirl at the end. Every scrap of candlelight refracted through its depths into shivering iridescence.

A test?

A challenge. I stared at the object in irritation. By not confronting me directly, the man had, once again, changed the game before I'd even realized we were playing. Either it would sit silently in storage- from my ignorance or arrogance, it mattered little- or I would take it back. Either way, it was out of his hands. A wave of apathy overcame me. If I have to share his reputation, I may as well reap the benefits when I can. I re-fastened the stone around my neck. It rested perfectly in the hollow of my collarbones, a cool weight I felt every time I inhaled. Simple as it looked, it contained enough stored energy to raze Aroughs to cinders.

Katana, obviously, disapproved. For tonight, I accept that it's wise to use whatever resources you may. I hope we reconvene on the issue when we go home.

'Home' is a rather strong word, isn't it? I fingered the chain and grimaced. I swear to you, we will speak more of this soon.

Good.

I curled a section of my gleaming waves around a finger until the end returned to its curl. Harold frowned, "A lady should have their hair up at a formal event."

"A married lady, yes. Luckily for our schedule, I am still a maiden in the eyes of the court." I winked. "And in any case, I have no intention of bending to these yuppies." I liked that I could conceal my pointed ears and the squareness of my jaw in a light froth of auburn. With every trick I learned, I saw less of Galbatorix's face in the mirror. It was slim comfort, but I had nothing more substantial with which to replace it.

A voice outside of the door interrupted my musings. "My lady!" Our host's grating tenor was the least welcome sound I'd experienced all day; including his father's ghoulish coughing. "I've come to offer you an escort for the evening, as is my responsibilty on such an occasion as host."

Harold and I made expressive eye contact. The tradition to which he refered was meant for maidens who were too young to yet be courted but were old enough to enjoy a ball. A hosting, adult noble might extend an invitation to such a lady so she may join the festivities with the escort then accepting responsibility for her safety. It was largely a superficial gesture to make children feel included in the silly games we played. To ask someone who not only outranked him but also out aged him by at least a decade was bold to say the very least.

At least I'll know where he is. I answered before my pride forced me to rebuke him, "A most gentile and magnanimous offer, my lord. I will gladly make use of your hospitality." Harold swallowed his chuckle dutifully and opened the door for me.

The foppish man in the hall was truly a sight to behold. Violet cuffs on his indigo jacket clashed badly with mustard yellow leggings… the pieces were richly dyed and of fine materials, but the complete lack of coordination was staggering! He extended an arm with perfect manners and a charmless smile, "Shall we?"

It took all of my acting skills to touch him without showing disdain on my face. "We shall."

-:- -:- -:-

For all his faults, Lord Prayel Halstead was intimately familiar with how to craft a party.

Before the meal had even begun, a trio of harpists serenaded the gathering guests. The dining table had been moved and added upon until three edges of the room were lined with tables and chairs, all facing a central floor cleared for dancing. Several servants- including the young miss I'd spoken to earlier in the day- circled the room with trays of chilled, sweet, wine. Rather than glide about the space and stir the hornets' nest prematurely, I ventured to the seat I knew was destined for me; directly at our host's left side.

Every guest was dressed to the absolute peak of their wealth and taste. Gems glittered at throats, chests, wrists, fingers, hats, shoes...every surface that could be adorned had been. It seemed as if they all meant to carry their fortunes away on their persons like thieves in the night! And what excellent targets they would make for robbery. Between the already omnipresent intoxication and general lack of awareness in the room, it would be an easy feat for a skilled sneak. I'll have to pitch the idea to Felice. If one of them could infiltrate a fancy party like this… they could eat for a month on a single ring!

Our host clinked his glass goblet. My fellow party goers claimed seats along the table, many wrapping up their conversations my surprise, the seat on his right was not taken by his mother, as had been the custom for all past meals, but instead by a boy- no older than thirteen- with a mop of golden curls, dusting of dark freckles, and pair large brown eyes. He leaned forward, buzzing with excitement, "Can I have an extra honey cake, father?"

The lordling grinned indulgently. "Is me aging a good enough reason to spoil you? Ah, please, not those kitten eyes… alright then, one extra. But you must be a good lad and bring one up for your sister after dinner is through."

"I will!" the boy chirped. He scooted forward, tucked his legs beneath him, and leaned until he could make eye contact with me over the table. He waved at me, all aglow with youthful innocence and joy.

I waved back, indulging the moment. He doesn't strike me as the paternal sort.

He doesn't act like a married man. Katana snarked.

Widower. If I remember correctly, his wife died in childbed while laboring with their youngest. Luckily the child survived; most difficult births don't end so well- I realized too late what I'd just thought.

Like a thunderhead enveloping the moon, a wash of heavy mourning clouded our link. Katana snapped the emotion tight to her core as soon as it arose, but we both felt it all too keenly. I weathered the convoluted wave of emotions that churned through her, unflinching and unjudging; she still grieved for her un-made hatching as strongly now as she had fifteen years ago. If the rest of Alagaesia knew, they would no doubt grieve with her. As it was, she had only me to shoulder the burden at her side. Mor'ranr waise medh ono, fricai.

The storm stilled to a bitter mist. She wordlessly acknowledged me and shrank back from our link, mentally exhausted and sick at heart. If have need, I will be here. And like that, my voice was the only one in my mind.

I zoned back in to my surroundings in time to lift a goblet and toast to whatever the man beside me had just said. I probed the liquid with magic and swallowed. The wine went down as smooth as the finest cider. Throughout the course of the meal, I indulged in as many as I considered prudent… and then one more for good luck.

We were served several courses of intricately constructed foods. There were salads of delicate spring greens circled in boiled qual's eggs. Then, after these came glittering orbs of mosaiced egg, aspic, and foie gra. Then a tall, corseted meat pie accompanied by thick pastries bearing towers of roasted vegetables. And, as a finale, fresh cream that had been dyed, iced, and shaped into flowers, fruits, and birds. I nibbled politely at the extravagant fair (for all my years of court life, I still had a fairly simple palette).

Finally, it was time to venture from the table and start the dances. Once the bustle of the room increased, I noticed the very subtle intrusion of one extra party guest; my mysterious little assassin. For the moment he was content to drift along the edges of the room making polite conversation, but he could only be here for one thing.

I meandered to Lady Bramblebay and struck up a conversation about the first thing I noticed; a broach on her collar.

"A gift from my- … from Lady Halstead. It was a token of her blessing on my wedding day."

I was glad for the segway. "You two are lucky to have one another. Not many can ever hope to find so trustworthy a companion."

"You flatter me, highness."

"Shouldn't I?" I slid my arm into hers as if I were a gentleman escorting a young maiden. "I never talk idly, Serae."

The lady noticed my overly familiar gesture and phrasing, but made no move to pull away. She let me lead both of us out in the peace of the garden. The room's music faded as we surrounded ourselves with an orchestra of crickets. I sent a trickle of power into one of my existing wards; a spell to make sure my words and those of my conversation partner were undistinguishable outside of a three-foot radius. We would still make noises, but the words would never be able to stick in an eavesdropper's mind (I had the Banishing to thank for the inspiration, though this was a much more subdued version of the same).

The woman broke her impeccable decorum once she realized we were alone. "Highness?" Of course, she dared not ask me anything of import so brazenly. But I could practically feel the suspicion creeping into her more experienced mind.

"Lady Serae, I wanted to thank you again for sharing your story with me. I spoke with Lady Halstead earlier today and she had many more praises to sing of your loyalty." I searched around for something that might put her at ease. "In our line of work, we so very rarely meet kindly people."

She relaxed marginally and smiled. "I only did what a friend ought to do-"

"And more. You saved a dying woman and her child; very few people would deign to do such a thing." Lady Bramblebay's eyes widened at once. I lifted a hand. "Peace. The matter is settled between Jermina and me; her son is whomever she claims him to be. But I had a question for you; if you would indulge me."

Serae lifted her chin. "If I can do so without compromising my lady, it would be a privilege."

"What do you know about the woman? Jermina said only that she'd been burned and that she succumbed to her injuries soon after arriving."

The lady seemed to teeter on the verge of refusing my request. She said, "I was the one who tended to her while my lady looked after the boy-"

"Was the child not her own?"

"She said she was his nanny. They both escaped from the capital on the day of… well, the day of His Majesty's ascension, Your Highness."

"The burning," I whispered.

Serae bowed her head. "She said she'd wrapped the child in damp rags to keep him cool and filter out the bad air. Then, as she reached the end of a long tunnel, everything behind her turned to flame. She might have survived if her wounds hadn't gotten infected on the road." The lady's expression soured with long-forgotten sadness. "I told her as much, but she said that she had to keep going until either her strength gave out or she reached... How did she put it? "Friendlier shores?" Poor thing, it's hard enough to be a young woman all alone in the world, especially with a child that isn't even your own blood."

Something clicked over in my brain. "You keep saying child as if he were older. Roughly how old was he when he arrived?"

"Seven, though near enough to eight."

Old enough to remember his life before, if not clearly. Images of our invasion flicked through my mind. Access to the tunnels, proximity to an exit at the time of the second explosion, running herself down to death's grim door to ferry a single child away, a nanny with a charge more valuable than her own life, a secret that a man is willing to kill to keep… A cold pit of a dread hardened in my stomach. A longshot it may be… but, better assume the worst and be pleasantly surprised than to maintain hope and be disappointed. "Thank you, Lady Serae. That has quite scratched the itch." I kept speaking, unsure in the moment of what I intended. "And yet, I must demand one more favor from you this night, and from your husband as well."

She tilted her head. "You have but to name it."

"Agree to whatever I ask for the next hours. Should you fail to do this, I will consider it a grave personal insult."

She blinked back her surprise in time to hide it from less perceptive eyes. Then, with a curtsy she said, "Yes, Your Highness."

"Perfect."

It was too late to contact my little helper directly. Besides, I needed him able to truthfully swear he'd done his best to execute his appointed task. I opted for a simpler approach.

It began when our host excused himself to carry his beleaguered son up to his room (too weak in the stomach to even see the outcome of his orders). Our assassin wove through the crowd innocuously, a goblet of sickly sweet wine in each hand. If I hadn't been ready for him, even I might not have noticed his move: he replaced his goblets with the ones his targets were imbibing.

Had I witnessed this same scene a decade before, it might have played out very differently. Years as Galbatorix's favorite blade had numbed me to death, to suffering, to notions of "rightness." Now… everything was different. I felt sick as I pictured the kindly old woman suffering a fate that horrific for a secret she didn't even know she possessed. And her husband was no more than a doggedly loyal and good-natured fool who'd poured his whole heart into his- oft-ridiculed- marriage.

The Empire's Shadow Queen would never have even flinched. No, not queen… Galbatorix's pet.

As I strode up to their table, I came to a decision: I could no longer measure my life on a scale devised by a lunatic. Freedom from him meant freedom from his precepts; the rules I'd followed religiously since I was a little girl, before I had become a rider or royalty. It was adherence to those teachings that first made me his… to undo that damage, I needed to start at the beginning.

Why should these innocent people die? If I couldn't keep two elderly vineyard owners in line then I deserved to be destroyed! Galbatorix slaughtered everyone who showed the slightest threat to his position; imagined or otherwise. Sacrifices to the "greater good" littered his path like snowflakes in an avalanche. I decided in this very moment that I would be better than him, no matter how much extra risk it required.

I calmly approached their table, lifting both goblets with an embarrassed smile. "The wine here is certainly the best in the Empire! May I take these for myself?" It was easy to act drunk; I was!

Sweet Lady Serae, didn't miss a beat! "Of course, Highness. We'll make sure to stock our estate with a similar vintage when you pay us a visit."

"I'll look forward to it!" Weirdly, I found that I meant it.

I dumped the foul concoction into the compost heap on my way back to my borrowed room.

It honestly pained me to waste that much seithr oil; it's expensive stuff, even to royalty. Still, I couldn't risk someone accidentally handling it and it was already diluted with wine (an equally tragic waste of a precious liquid to my mind!).

In any case, worry not for our enterprising little assassin! Once he'd reported his failure to his employer I offered him a much better career path; one that would lead him to some new friends in Teirm. He settled into the family quite nicely, though he and Wolfy weren't the most… harmonious pair.

And our little lordling? Well… I knew of course that he would never substantiate my theories of his own volition. But, no matter how much I wracked my brain… I could think of no cleaner solution. Nearly fifty years had passed, but I remembered one last secret that dangled tantalizingly just out of reach ever since that blood-soaked day: the fate of the deposed king's youngest son; the little boy who'd vanished from Ilirea amid the thousands of other casualties.

I decided he could at least outlive his ailing father. After that… he would need to be handled one way or another. And, in either case, he would no longer be a threat to Antebellum.

If he ever was in the first place.