Chapter Eleven:

Ambitions Laid Bare

The knock at her door was unwelcome. Mirana just wanted to be left alone, forever, with her grief.

She continued to clutch at the dragon fang, all she had left of Marci, as she sat by the window.

Marci…

She curled inwards, tears still streaming down her cheeks. 'Go away.' It sounded feeble. She couldn't put any force into the words.

'Princess?' it was not Aridin. The voice was kinder, gentler, with a Nivanese accent. 'May I speak with you? I can come back later if you wish.'

Mirana sighed.

'I would like to offer my sympathies.'

'All right. Please come in.'

Nico stepped inside cautiously. He was without his weapons, clearly not worried about the Princess attacking him. He approached her quietly and sat next to her. 'Princess, I am truly sorry for your loss.'

'You don't know what I've lost.'

'Mine is a dangerous vocation, your majesty. I too have lost friends.'

Mirana shook her head. 'I'm sorry, Nico. I shouldn't have said that.'

'You are not wrong, your majesty. I did not know your friend, and she clearly meant much to you.'

'Yes… she did.' Mirana's fingers caressed the fang. 'She was... I...'

'You loved her.'

'I… I did.' Mirana couldn't stop another sob breaking free. 'And Marci never knew. I could never tell her.'

Nico put his strong arm around her shoulders. 'There was someone between you and her?'

Mirana sighed and wiped her eyes. 'There always was. Some suitor I was supposed to wed. Selemene. Davion.'

'Davion? The Dragon Knight Davion?' Nico waited until Mirana nodded in answer. 'He is very famous, both as a warrior and a lover.'

'I'm not surprised you have heard of him.' Mirana mumbled.

'He would have done well in Nivan, I think. He and Marci were close?'

'Yes,' Mirana wiped her eyes pointlessly. 'I… I didn't approve at first. Because of how I felt about Marci. Because I thought Davion would just use her and discard her. But… he actually ended up falling for her.'

'Really?' Nico looked impressed. 'She must have been an incredible woman.'

Mirana nodded sadly. 'Yes. She was.' Despite the pain the memories caused her, she did feel a little better. Talking about Marci was helping. Nico was not such bad company after all. 'I… didn't stop them because I could see how happy they were together…' she faltered. 'Oh gods… Davion! How am I supposed to tell him? He'll be heartbroken.'

'He was not with you?'

'No, he had to go elsewhere. He… promised to come and find Marci afterwards. But instead—'

'Hush, now, Princess,' Nico gave her shoulder a little squeeze. 'Don't think about that, not now. Is there anything I can do for you?'

'Won't you get into trouble for being here?'

'That does not matter. I am more concerned for you.'

Mirana's mouth twitched. 'I think you're in the wrong trade, Nico. You're too… gentlemanly to be a mercenary.'

'I did wish to be a Gallant, but fortune was not so kind to me. I am only a mercenary because I have a talent for fighting, and I needed some way to settle my family's debts.' He paused, studying her face with concern. 'But enough about me, your majesty. Please, talk about whatever helps you. I will listen.'

Mirana swallowed. 'I… thank you, Nico. I don't want to get you into trouble though.'

'Do not fret for me, Princess.'

Mirana nodded. 'Can I… do you mind if I talk about Marci?'

'Not at all. Please, continue.'

Mirana swallowed again, the lump in her throat still burning, and began to quietly speak about her lost friend.

It was a long climb from the palace entrance to the throne room. Lina had assumed that it was simply to show how important the royal family was. During the rebellion, she had realised that it also made tactical sense. It made the room defensible, and bought its defenders time to prepare.

Lina had seen little point in making Tihomir climb all the way up, just to have her demands refused and for her to be sent back down. But Kashurra said that it was expected, and tradition had to be observed. It also gave them a little more time.

Lina adjusted her circlet and fidgeted on her chair. Drysi was hovering at her side. She was not really needed here, Lina suspected that she was here to provide moral support.

As expected, Kashurra was present, his expression neutral and difficult to read—as usual. Asar and several Sun Guard were also in position. Though Kashurra thought it unlikely that Tihomir would resort to overt violence, he saw no harm in preparing for the worst either.

At last, the doors opened. A man in orange and gold livery stepped in first, lifted his head, and announced: 'Lady Tihomir of House Aureas, Governor of the Judicis Isles, cousin to Emperor Zal—may his soul rest in the sun's warmth—heir apparent to the Solar Throne.'

'She wastes no time, I see.' Drysi murmured darkly.

'And her son, General Arastis, commander of the armies of the Judicis Isles.'

The herald stepped aside to admit a stout woman with a heavy, square-jawed face, a wide mouth, beady dark eyes and black hair pulled back into a tight knot. Her fine robes were dyed orange, capped with shoulders of gold brocade, with a collar which rose behind her head.

She was unarmed, but not unprotected. Though most of her procession had been made to wait outside the palace grounds, she had brought soldiers—likely her most trusted and elite fighters—up with her. These men wore lorica like that of a centurion, but wore tabards over them bearing the sigil of House Aureas, and the strips of metal were etched with gold. Each man wore a golden helm with a striped crest of yellow and orange.

It was expensive armour. Tihomir was showing off. The Sun Guard wore armour of red and gold, but they were the guardians of royalty. It was expected. According to Kashurra, Tihomir's territory had rich gold mines. Lina could see where some of that gold had gone.

There was a warrior on either side of Tihomir. One carried his helm under his arm, the other hand rested upon the hilt of a fine sword. His armour, more like the plate favoured by knights from across the sea, or a Sun Guard, than a legionnaire's lorica, was inlaid with delicate gold filigree, forming graceful glittering symmetrical patterns. He had a close resemblance to Tihomir. Like her, he had a broad-shouldered form and square jaw. His hair was a little lighter and tied into a neat braid, and his eyes were grey rather than coal-dark. This had to be Arastis, Tihomir's son.

The warrior on Tihomir's other side was shorter and leaner, and wore plainer, slightly dented armour which was a mix of plate and mail. It was mismatched and asymmetrical, with only a manica and galerus on the left arm, much like the scant armour used by the retiarii—"net-men"—of the coliseums, though rather than go about bare-chested, this fighter wore a shirt of stout metal rings with steel plates fastened across the front. The weapon this bodyguard bore was a trident. There was also a long dagger hanging from her belt. Lina was somewhat surprised to realise that the second bodyguard was a woman. It was not unusual for women to fight alongside men in Misrule, but Lina had not expected as much from Tihomir.

The female bodyguard had dark skin, with sharp, curved tattoos around her right eye and over her cheek, which proceeded down over her lips, along her neck and disappeared under her collar. Though her face looked delicate, there was a hardness in her sharp hazel eyes. Her frizzy hair was cut short, exposing a damaged ear and a long scar running under her left eye and along her cheekbone.

As they approached, Lina stood to receive them. She could almost feel the Solar Throne atop its dais looming behind her like a watchful sentinel, the stained glass windows throwing dappled light across the chamber.

Lina was not afraid of Tihomir or her soldiers. The Sun Guard probably weren't necessary. Lina could have easily killed them all, or sent them screaming from the chamber with scorched skin and melted armour.

Tihomir stopped a few feet away from Lina and bent into the shallowest of bows. Her son did the same. The woman with the trident bowed her head and placed a clenched fist against her chest. Lina wasn't sure where she was from. One of the eastern nations, perhaps? Or maybe a land further south?

'Lady Tihomir and Lord Arastis of House Aureas,' Asar intoned. 'You stand before Lina the Slayer, the Daughter of Fire, ward of the Salesh'idin Clan of Misrule, Bane of Usurpers, Regent of the Helio Imperium.'

Lina bowed. 'I greet you, Lady Tihomir, Lord Arastis,' she straightened a little and looked to the bodyguard, unsure of what to say. The woman merely watched her, her face expressionless.

'It is good to return home at long last.' Tihomir declared. 'The palace is much as I remember it. The city less so. There seemed to be a great deal of damage. I assume that was your doing. Armed rebellions are rarely gentle.'

'That,' Drysi uttered tersely, 'was Shabarra's handiwork, not ours.'

Tihomir's eyes narrowed as she surveyed Drysi. 'I remember a time when elves were not welcome within the palace. It was an issue of trust.'

Lina scowled. Kashurra must have noticed, for he interjected, 'Times have changed, Lady Tihomir. Drysi has earned our trust and her place here. She was instrumental in ousting Shabarra, and has worked diligently to restore order ever since Ascension Day.'

Tihomir turned her gaze upon Kashurra now. 'Times have changed,' she agreed, 'though you do not seem to have changed at all.' She paused, as if waiting for him to say something. When he did not, she continued. 'I am sure you know why I have returned. With Shabarra disgraced and absent, and no-one of royal blood left to secure the Solar Throne, I have seen fit to volunteer myself as heir.' She cut Kashurra off before he could speak. 'Do not bother to say that you are waiting for the erstwhile Princess Mirana to return. I hear things too, Viceroy. You are not the only one who receives news from abroad. I have heard that the lost Princess was quite happy giving herself to the Dark Moon Order, like some common whore, or else that she has been spending much time between the sheets of various beds, wrapped in the arms of a vagabond dragon slayer.'

Lina glanced at Kashurra, and was surprised to see him actually fuming. He was normally better at hiding his emotions. 'Do not malign the Princess with such slander.' Kashurra grated. 'And you would do well to check the credibility of your sources, which seem to be little more than gossip and hearsay, all likely culled from the braying of tavern drunkards.

You must surely have heard that Princess Mirana took part in a battle for the sake of the world itself, risking her life and soul for us all. We all know that she is determined to return to her homeland, to take on the burden of leadership for the sake of her people.

You, on the other hand, are still grasping and covetous. You are acting as an opportunist, not a leader.'

Lina wondered if Tihomir would lose her temper. She was quiet, and Lina was expecting her to shout or argue.

Instead, she laughed. 'Oh Kashurra! You do not know me at all!'

'On the contrary, Lady Tihomir, I know you too well.'

'I only wish to maintain order, Viceroy. This city and the people of the Imperium have suffered greatly under Shabarra's rule. I have the means to alleviate that suffering. You know of my wealth, Viceroy. And I know that Stonehall senses weakness in the Imperium, and has found strong allies, giving them the strength they need to challenge you.

I have strength too. I have gold. I have an army. I have allies.

My proposal is simple: we can either wait here, uncertain of whether Mirana will ever return to claim her birthright, or you can act sensibly, pragmatically, and let me lead. I will ensure that Stonehall is defeated before it ever goes to war, and thus end their menace once and for all.'

'And what of the Dark Moon?' Drysi interjected. 'What do you intend to do about it? You can't just ignore it. Stonehall's call to arms is a mere symptom of the true threat: Mene. She is returning, Lady Tihomir, and the Imperium is Her chief foe.'

Arastis waved a hand. 'Bah! The gods and goddesses cannot interfere with the affairs of mortals as much as you believe Mene can. That would break the Covenant. Or don't they teach you savages about that? No, I suppose you'd be too busy mating with each other to bother learning anything worthwhile.'

Drysi flushed, her eyes wide. She looked like she had been slapped in the face.

'Though I don't suppose you enjoy much intimacy, do you? Not with half a face looking like melted candle wax.'

Lina snarled and brandished a fist wreathed in flame. Her hair started to billow, turning to fire. Asar bared his teeth and stomped forwards, growling, 'You will not disrespect a member of the Royal Council! Apologise to Lady Drysi!'

'Or what, ursa?' Arastis sneered. 'What is this, Viceroy? First an elf? Now an ursa? Did you think that Mirana needed a pet? My understanding was that she already had one: that mute simpleton you scooped up from the slums. What did Shabarra call her? Mirana's goldfish? A rather apt title, I'd say.'

Kashurra paled, but it was anger instead of fear. His hands also balled into fists at his sides and his eyes narrowed.

Lina was powerful. She knew what she was capable of. Yet inexplicably, she felt a sudden thrill of fear when she realised how angry Kashurra was.

'Arastis!' Tihomir shook her head. 'That's enough.' She looked to Kashurra. 'I would ask you to forgive my son. He is a skilled fighter and an excellent tactician, but he still has much to learn when it comes to diplomacy. Alas, his father was always better with words.'

'Indeed he was.' Kashurra relaxed a little, and the tension faded away, forgotten. 'More so than you ever were.'

'Maybe so. But I do admit, this is growing tiresome. We can hurl barbs at one another all day, or you can make a sensible choice for the good of the Imperium.' She gestured at the throne. 'There stands an empty throne, inviting chaos, anarchy and strife. Here I stand, a bearer of royal blood capable of ensuring order and stability, and I am willing to accept the responsibilities of the crown.'

She stepped forwards, head held high. 'Well then? The time has come for you to stand down, Lady Lina. You have done an admirable job of keeping order.' Lina expected her to add "for a Misrulian-raised freak", but she did not. 'And I shall see that you are rewarded for your service. But now the time has come for you to stand down.'

Lina frowned. As tempting as it was to hand over the responsibilities of Regent, she had no intention of agreeing to Tihomir's demand. Mostly it was because she now firmly believed Kashurra's claims that Tihomir would make a poor leader, but some of it was also spite. She and her son had offended them, and her arrogance and assumptions annoyed Lina.

'No, that time has not come, not yet.' Lina stated coldly, taking her place on her chair again. 'I will not relinquish control of the Imperium to you, Lady Tihomir.'

Arastis fumed, but Tihomir's expression was blank. She had expected this, which made Lina wonder why she had bothered in the first place.

'The Senate has already cast its endorsement of Mirana as the next Empress, and she will be here soon enough. In fact, she even sent us a message, confirming her willingness to take her place on the Solar Throne.' Kashurra said. Though his tone was even and his expression neutral, Lina knew that he was still nettled. Perhaps he was taking pleasure in turning Tihomir away. Lina would not have blamed him. 'She will lead us well, of that I am certain.'

'I'm sure this all works in your favour, Viceroy.' Tihomir said. 'If she does return at all. The fact of the matter is that I am here, and she is not. Perhaps I can convince the Senate to act rationally when you will not—a most surprising, and disappointing, move on your part, Viceroy. I would have expected better from you.'

Kashurra's eyes narrowed a little. 'You do not know me at all, Lady Tihomir. I would advise you and your son to take your leave now. I trust that you can find lodging in the city?'

'I have allies, Viceroy.' Tihomir stated. 'Come, Arastis, we are not welcome here. Not yet. Thorne,' she directed this at the bodyguard with the trident, 'Inform the Praetor that we will be accepting Senator Istrian's offer of hospitality, and that he is to see to the troops.'

'As you command, my lady.' Thorne acknowledged quietly. Her accent suggested that she was from the north, though Lina still was not sure where exactly. She turned and marched out with the others. Tihomir cast one last look at Lina over her shoulder, focused, determined, self-assured, then left with her soldiers following her.

Lina exhaled slowly and removed her circlet, slumping in her chair.

'I don't suppose we could just have her assassinated?' Drysi muttered.

They all turned to her, incredulous. Drysi had been a smuggler, and she had at least appeared to be ruthless and deadly, but even if she had not been trying to build a more honest life for herself, they knew that much of her reputation had been just rumour and hearsay nurtured by Drysi herself. She'd had no qualms about killing Shabarra's spies though, which made them wonder.

'What?' Drysi scoffed. 'I wasn't being serious. Tempting though…'

'We can't just have her killed.' Kashurra said. 'Quite aside from undermining ourselves, especially after promising to be better than Shabarra, it would set a dangerous precedent. Though Princess Mirana may not be here yet, we are her Royal Council. We represent her. We must not give her doubters and enemies further cause to oppose her.'

'I do not envy you, Viceroy.' Asar grunted.

'Sometimes I wish my role was simple, Asar.' Kashurra admitted. 'Alas, it is not. Do not worry for me though. I have endured the politics of the Imperium for decades now. I can endure a little longer.'

'Not planning on leaving us to struggle, are you?' Drysi asked lightly.

'I am not finished yet, Drysi.' Kashurra stepped away from Lina's chair. 'I will do what I can. The majority of the Senate supports Mirana, but Tihomir was not lying when she said that she has allies. I always had my suspicions about Senator Istrian. I will need to have a talk with certain other Senators.'

'I could do that.' Lina suggested.

'Of course,' Kashurra nodded, pausing at the door. 'But please, allow me. I know these men and women well, and I know their motivations and desires. You should rest if you can. Any vital matters will be brought to your attention.' With that, he marched out.

Lina sighed and leaned back in the chair. 'By the Solar Goddess, this just won't get any easier, will it?'

'It's only temporary,' Drysi assured her, moving closer and giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. 'Just until Mirana returns.'

'If she returns. She's still missing.'

'She will. Have faith.'

'I wish it was that easy, Drysi. I really wish it was.'

Mirana wiped her eyes for what felt like the thousandth time. Nico had listened patiently to her for over an hour. Though talking about Marci had been painful, she felt better for it, and embarrassed. She had never thought that unloading her grief upon a stranger could be so easy, though it was not entirely freeing.

Since Nico had left, she had been overwhelmed twice more. The sorrow crept up on her without warning, just by the realisation that Marci was gone. Both times, she had broken down, struggling to breathe as she wept and sobbed.

There didn't seem to be anything else. She had not eaten the breakfast they had bought for her, and that had reduced her to tears too. She had recalled all those times she and Marci had shared breakfast, how Marci would demolish her meals in moments.

The knock on her door was unwelcome. She could tell that it wasn't Nico. She might have been glad to see him. He was kind and honest, unlike Aridin.

The lock clunked and Aridin strode inside, his face inscrutable, his manner businesslike.

Mirana felt a surge of loathing, and resisted the urge to leap and attack him. It wasn't like she had the heart to do it, she was too worn out by her despair.

Mirana hung her head, trying not to look at him. 'What do you want now? Can you not just leave me be?'

'Would that I could ease your sorrow, Princess.' Aridin said. She doubted he really meant that. 'But as I said, we have the future of the Imperium to safeguard.'

'I don't care.'

'Forgive me, Princess, but I know otherwise.'

Was she really so transparent now? He was not wrong. She did care. Marci would not have wanted her to forsake all else just because she was…

Mirana sighed. 'Speak then.'

Aridin pulled forth a chair and sat opposite her. She still did not look up.

Aridin waited, but when she did not move, he began to speak again. 'The Imperium has suffered under the rule of your uncle. Though he may have been deposed, he left much strife in his wake. And now a pretender sits upon the throne.'

Mirana frowned. Garrisan had said that Lina was acting as Regent, not an Empress.

'To reclaim your rightful place, we must strengthen your claim.'

'Why do you care?'

Aridin looked upon her for a moment, thinking, weighing his response. 'You may have reason to doubt me, Princess, but do not doubt that I love my country. I am a patriot, no matter what others may say. I wish only to see the Imperium grow strong and flourish, once again.'

Did that mean he wanted a conquest? Long before Mirana's father had inherited the Solar Throne, the Imperium had waged war and expanded its influence, growing vast over the years. But with Stonehall standing firm against them, and little point in taking the lands west, the expansion had halted.

Mirana had no desire to conquer for the sake of riches or territory. She sought only to prevent the rise of the Dark Moon. She wanted peace, not conflict. Security, not fear.

'The Imperium is still strong.' Mirana stated listlessly.

'But it could be stronger. And we can make it so.'

If Mirana had not been so overcome, she would have recoiled when he took her hand. As it was, she flinched and tried to tug her hand away.

Aridin held on firmly. 'You are a strong and capable leader, Mirana, and a gifted and beautiful woman. I would see you take your rightful place upon the Solar Throne, and it would be the greatest honour of my life to be at your side, to help you to lead the Imperium into a new age of glory!'

Mirana stared at him, astounded. Surely he did not mean…

'And one day, we shall pass the duty on to worthy successors. Together, House Caelum and House Nesrius can make the Imperium the greatest nation in the world.'

Mirana yanked her hand away. 'You want to marry me?' she would have scoffed were she not so upset or startled.

'Yes, Princess. I do. For the good of the Imperium,' he leaned forwards. 'And to ease your pain.' He held out his hand. 'Mirana, my dear, marry me. Let me be your pillar now.'

Crack!

Aridin recoiled, cradling his stinging cheek.

Mirana raised her hand, fuming. 'You… you dare?'

Aridin rubbed his smarting cheek. 'I know that you are upset, Princess. But that was uncalled for.'

'Perhaps I am to blame for Marci's death. But you had your forces attack us. Your men left her to die.'

'That was not my intention.'

'And now you seek to use me as a tool, just for your own personal glory!'

'It is as I told you, Princess: I want what is best for the Imperium.'

'Like you did when you tried to undermine my father?'

Aridin sighed. 'Your father was a man of conviction. You and he were very much alike. But he never understood that sometimes, a leader must dirty their hands for the sake of those they lead.'

'There is a difference between making a sacrifice and trying to profit off misery.'

'And yet at the same time,' Aridin continued as if Mirana had not spoken. 'He was complacent. He grew careless. Do you think that your uncle would have dared to launch his coup if his brother had been more vigilant? He kept a snake at his side, and yet he was taken by surprise when it revealed its fangs.'

'My father was taken ill!'

'And his vanity demanded that all eyes be on him.'

'You weren't there! You were exiled!'

Aridin shook his head. 'Yes. I was not there. I was exiled. And I regret that. I never trusted Shabarra. Perhaps, if I had been there, I could have exposed him as the traitor he was.'

Mirana doubted that. If Kashurra hadn't realised what Shabarra had been up to until it was too late, nobody could have.

'Aridin,' Mirana shook her head, not bothering to hide her disgust. 'I am not going to marry you.'

Aridin did not seem surprised. 'I realise that you have little love for me. But that is the burden of leadership. Love is often a secondary concern, if it is a concern at all, but—'

Mirana waved a hand impatiently. 'I've heard all this before. The difference is that unlike you, Kashurra was worth listening to.'

'Kashurra!' Aridin scoffed. 'For someone so clever, he is often such a fool. It's because of him that a Misrulian witch now sits upon your throne.'

'Lina is acting as Regent, not Empress.'

'She is Empress in all but name. How long before her ambition takes hold? I have heard much about her exploits in Misrule. She is impulsive and wilful, and she craves attention and power, and she is already powerful.' He shrugged. 'And though I would welcome your affections, ours would be an alliance for the sake of the Imperium. I am a tolerant man. I would allow you to indulge in your… proclivities behind closed doors.'

Mirana stared at him, stunned. 'What?'

'I am not an idiot, Mirana, whatever you may think. I knew where to intercept you because I have been watching you. And like so many others, I have heard many rumours about you since you arose from your apparent death and left the Nightsilver Woods, including how much Selemene favoured you over so many others.' He paused, watching her intently.

Mirana just continued to stare at him, her jaw dropping.

'It explains much about your handmaiden and why you valued her, though of course, it is the duty of a servant to see to their superior's every need.'

'I… what? No! How dare you? It wasn't like that!' Mirana gritted her teeth, ignoring the stinging in her eyes as they began to brim. 'Marci was my friend! I would never have used her like that!'

Aridin held up his hands in apology. 'I'm sorry, Princess. Forgive me. But perhaps I can procure a servant for you who is at least a little bit like her, to satisfy your needs.'

Mirana shook her head. 'You're foul, Aridin. I'm not going to marry you. You attacked loyal soldiers of the Imperium for your own sake. You imprisoned my friends,' she lowered her head. 'And Marci…' She lifted her head a little. She could have sworn that she caught Aridin rolling his eyes. Mirana glowered at him. She knew that she had spoken of Marci a great deal, and Aridin was likely growing tired of hearing her name. Perhaps he thought that Mirana was using her as an excuse. But Mirana saw no reason to apologise, nor did she want to. Not to Aridin.

'Princess, I think you should reconsider,' he reached out to take her hand again.

Mirana moved her hand away. 'I'm not going to marry you, Aridin. Even if you had not crossed me and hurt my friends, I have more to worry about than finding a suitor. Do you not know? You have seen the Bleeding Moon. We all have. Mene is going to return soon, and She will have Her faithful wage war on the Imperium.'

Though Aridin tried to keep his expression neutral, Mirana detected the scepticism. He did not believe her.

'Please!' Mirana persisted. 'You have to let us go! It's my responsibility to lead the Imperium, especially if there's going to be a war. And I will need my friends at my side.' She sighed. 'Lord Aridin… please, let me and my friends go. If you want to earn some redemption, then send your forces to bolster the Legions. I will never forgive you, but right now, we face a greater threat. And punishing you will not bring Marci back.'

Aridin looked away. He was not afraid, not when he held Mirana captive. He clearly did not believe her claims about Mene. Perhaps he did not care about the Bleeding Moon at all, or anything beyond himself.

She was honestly starting to wish that her father had ordered his execution. Even though Kashurra considered killing a last resort, he had admitted to seeing risks in just exiling Aridin.

Maybe he knew… Kashurra was intelligent, and he had a knack for picking up information. More than once, members of the Royal Council had suggested making him Spymaster as well as Viceroy. Kashurra had always told her that he just had a talent for listening, and that there was always a grain of truth in every tale, no matter how wild it may be. It was just a matter of finding the grain.

The thought gave her hope. If Kashurra was not too busy helping Lina to prepare for war, he might even now be sending soldiers to retrieve her. And even if he was busy, Mirana knew that he cared about her. He would have at least sent people to try and find her.

It was a shame that he would be too late to help Marci. He'd always had a soft spot for her.

'Princess,' Aridin stood slowly. 'I realise that you need time. You've been through a terrible ordeal. I will let you rest. Please, think on my proposal. It really is for the good of everyone.'

Mirana tried not to groan. He thought that she was delusional. Probably because of her difficult journey across the continent, then the attack, and then…

She bit her lip, hard, as Aridin left. She did not want him to see her cry again.

It was only after he left that she let the tears flow again, and she clutched at the dragon fang once more.

Marci was pacing back and forth, frowning, looking as though she might punch something. It was getting late.

The sun would set soon. They had been out here for hours, watching the estate, taking note of anything and everything. Marci had been growing steadily more impatient.

There had to be a way in. There had to be.

Marci was done waiting. She pointed at the estate, looking determined.

'I don't think we can manage with just the three of us, even with your strength and my abilities.' Lyralei warned.

'She's right, lass.' Aurel concurred. 'We should wait until Kunkka arrives.'

Marci sighed. Mirana was in there, maybe Luna and Aiushtha too. And she was so close!

But Lyralei and Aurel were both right. As strong as she was, she wouldn't survive a frontal assault. The guards had the advantages of a superior position, range and numbers. She, Lyralei and Aurel may have beaten off Roshan, but that had been one bestial opponent, and they'd had a working flak cannon.

And as much as she wanted to fight her way through Aridin's thugs and smash him to a pulp, she knew better than to rush in. For all she knew, Aridin might kill Mirana if he felt threatened. He might have a dozen secret ways out and spirit her away if someone acted.

She had to be careful. She had to think first. What would Mirana do? Or Davion? Kashurra?

Mirana would probably try to assert herself, but she was also smart. She had been taught to calculate, to assess, negotiate or fight as necessary. Davion was a warrior, but he'd also proven to be level-headed and diplomatic when necessary, he was good with people.

But negotiation would not help her here. If it had been an option, Mirana would have talked herself and her allies out of imprisonment.

"Sometimes the simplest solution is the best solution." Mirana and Kashurra had both impressed that on Marci many times. But she was just a handmaiden and bodyguard, this was not what was expected of her. Or was it? She was supposed to be prepared to counter any threat to the Princess.

Marci sighed and peered out to sea, wondering. The cliffs looked sheer, but she was strong and agile. Perhaps she could climb up.

Marci frowned at the cliffs. An assault might not have been an option, but there were other ways.

'What are you planning, lass?' Aurel asked.

Marci indicated the narrow beach beneath the cliffs, then mimed looking for something.

'Hmm,' Aurel disengaged the hammer on his pistol and holstered it. 'Risky. I'm not up for running around, but maybe Lyralei could cover you.'

'It's broad daylight, Marci. They'll likely spot you.' Lyralei stated. 'You'd be better off waiting for nightfall.'

Marci was becoming tired of being told to wait. Mirana needed her help, and she needed to find a way into the estate. The beach was exposed, yes, but there had to be a way. If she could get close enough to the cliffs without being seen, she would be safe.

She looked out over the waves, deep blue and constant. Maybe there was a way, though she did not like it, not after nearly meeting her end in the depths. But Mirana needed her.

Marci squinted and peered at a spot not far from where they were, noticing how the water there was cloudy, as if something was disturbing the silt.

Unbidden, a memory came to her, but it gave her the answer she needed.

To Aurel and Lyralei's surprise, Marci smiled, then approached the gyrocopter, removed a loose panel, and reached in.

Mirana was grateful that Nico was on duty in the gaol again. So long as Aridin's guards kept their distance, she could talk freely. To Luna, anyway, since she was the only other one here who spoke fluent elvish. Aiushtha only knew a few words and phrases. Mirana did not want to exclude her, or even Nico, not after he had done so much for her.

He would understand.

Luna was lying on the floor of her cell, a sweaty quivering mess. Her hair had fallen loose, hiding her face.

Mirana had to try to remain strong. Marci would have understood. She would have wanted her to carry on, to protect the others.

Mirana knelt in front of Luna's cell. Luna shuddered and lifted her head. Groaning, she rose a little, propping herself up. Her eyes were bloodshot and bleary, her skin paler than usual. 'Princess?'

Mirana sighed, feeling her resolve crumbling once more. She lowered her head, biting down on her lower lip, as her eyes started to burn.

'Mirana?' Luna rasped. 'Mirana? What's wrong?'

All Mirana had to do was lift her head. Her brimming, red-rimmed eyes and distraught expression were enough.

'Oh…' Luna stared at her. Even in her state, she understood. 'Oh no… shite! No!'

'What?' Aiushtha frowned. 'What is… oh… Mirana… I'm so sorry!'

Mirana clamped her hand over her mouth to try to stifle her sobs. Nico moved forwards and knelt at her side. He deftly put his arm around her shoulder. With his other hand, he offered her a kerchief.

Mirana forced herself to calm down. She had to keep it together. If she fell apart, she would be no help to Luna, Aiushtha or the Imperium. Marci would have wanted her to remain strong.

'Thank you,' Mirana whispered to Nico. He gave her shoulder a little sympathetic squeeze in response.

'Mirana…' Luna sighed and shook her head. Mirana noticed how grey and clammy her skin looked. 'I…'

'It's all right,' Mirana reached out, taking hold of Luna's sweaty hand. 'Well… no, it isn't. It never will be. But I know what you want to say.'

Luna shuddered and curled inwards. Her hold on Mirana's hand became painfully tight. Mirana did not pull away, not even when she felt a bone click.

Luna gasped, shuddered again, and looked up at Mirana with bloodshot eyes. 'Moon's holy light! This is a fucking mess!'

'I know.' Mirana sighed. 'And I know why Aridin wanted me alive. He…' she shook her head. 'You were right, Luna. This is a fucking mess. Aridin wants to marry me.'

Luna uttered an expletive in elven so rude, it would have earned her a stern reprimand from the High Priestess back in the Nightsilver Woods.

Mirana also noted that Nico was stunned. It was increasingly clear that he was just hired muscle. He had been given only the barest of details. He further added to this concept by quietly murmuring: 'Merde!'

'Is he mad?' Aiushtha demanded.

Mirana grimaced. 'Not quite. I almost wish he was.'

'Don't give in!' Luna hissed. 'No matter what that bastard does, don't give in!'

'I won't.' Mirana vowed. 'Luna, if I can get you anything…'

Luna shook her head. 'Don't worry about me, Princess. I'll live.'

'I am worried about you, Luna. I hate the thought of you suffering.'

Luna scoffed. 'Of course you do. You care too much.' She forced a smile onto her wan face. 'I actually like that about you.' She shook her head. 'Just worry about yourself right now. I'll survive.' She indicated Aiushtha with her head. 'The company isn't so bad.'

Mirana nodded. She wondered what Marci would have said, and felt a fresh surge of sorrow threaten to overtake her.

Luna noticed. She shuffled forwards as much as she could and stretched out her arms, her hands just reaching past the bars. Mirana moved closer, letting Luna awkwardly attempt to hug her.

Nico watched sadly. He would have opened the cell gates, but Gondar, sensing weakness in Nico, had taken his keys.

'You be strong, Mirana.' Luna said. 'For me, for Marci, for the Imperium, for whoever matters to you.'

Mirana sniffled. 'I'll try.'

'Try hard, Princess.'

Mirana huffed. 'All right. If you insist, Luna. I promise.'

Nico was supposed to get Mirana back to her chambers before nightfall, and he would, even though the sun would be going down soon. But he saw no harm in letting Mirana and Luna stay in their embrace a little longer, and draw some much needed strength from each other.

Bessus hated this job.

It was not just the boredom. He always ended up with any bare skin burnt red-raw, his eyes dried out and stung by salt, and he would end up stinking of seaweed and oysters.

And the oysters they were after really did stink.

But it paid well. Imperium nobles paid handsomely for greater latchtongue oysters, and Lord Airidin seemed to have a particular liking for them, especially now.

'These oysters are aphrodisiacs, yes?' Jantin, the man steering the boat, asked.

'Yeah,' Bessus was checking the lines. 'So?'

'So how many has Aridin eaten since Princess Mirana turned up? I'm surprised he hasn't broken down the doors to her chambers and spent the whole night ploughing her.'

'He's got restraint, I'll give him that.' Bessus had to watch the lines. All of the silt and seaweed being stirred up by the latchtongues, not to mention all the bubbles they were spewing, made it impossible to see anything clearly for quite some distance. The tugs on the lines would indicate if they had a catch, and they had to be careful. The adults were far too big, and would capsize the boat if snared. They were after the juveniles, which would follow behind the adults.

Bessus hated this job, but it required concentration. Jantin also had to concentrate, steering the little boat with the sail and paying attention to the wind. They couldn't risk using the oars, not with so large a reef beneath them. And Aridin really wanted his damn latchtongues.

If their task had not required such attention, there was a slim chance they might have noticed an odd little object following a few meters behind. If they had looked closely, they might even have noticed the shape, and might even have realised that it was not a fish.

But Bessus was too busy with his lines and securing the catches. Jantin was looking forwards, steering the boat steadily over the roving oysters, whistling off-key as he worked.

Bessus rolled his eyes. Jantin was enjoying this.

Marci was not enjoying this.

The flying goggles were keeping the saltwater out of her eyes, but she was sure that she would be wrinkled like a prune when she finally returned to dry land. She was even more apprehensive around deep water now, wary of sharks or levianths or some other thing with teeth.

And of course, she was right above a roving reef of greater latchtongue oysters.

Not a good place for her in any way.

Silver linings, she reminded herself. At least the water was warm. At least she wasn't drowning.

It had been downright strange at first, and she'd been fretting and concentrating hard on her breathing alone. There was still an oily aftertaste to the air she was breathing, tinged with salt. But there was no denying that the trick was working.

When she had realised that she would have to stay immersed much longer than she could hope to hold her breath, she'd come up with a simple solution: take a hollow pipe from Aurel's crashed gyrocopter, bend it into shape, and use it to breathe whilst submerged. She'd tied some seaweed from the beach around the top, to keep it from glinting in the sunlight. After borrowing a spare pair of leggings from Lyralei, and cutting them down so they were shin-length, she had crept down to the water, stripped down to her tunic and the shortened leggings, donned the goggles, stuck the bent pipe into her mouth, slipped into the water and swam out to the slowly moving reef.

The boat had confirmed her suspicion. There were no fishing towns this far east, which meant that it could only have come from Aridin's estate. She'd known that a man like Aridin wouldn't be able to resist the chance to have some latchtongues caught. They fetched a good price, and they were tasty—to her, anyway. Mirana hated them.

They could be dangerous too though, and Marci felt especially wary, even if these were creatures she could eat.

An adult latchtongue possessed a shell much wider than her torso, maybe the same length. That wasn't what worried her. It was their namesakes, their tongues, which bothered her right now. They were extremely long and, as their names implied, capable of latching on to anything. It was how these oysters, quite unlike any other in the world, moved and caught food.

Although they couldn't eat Marci—they had no teeth—their crushing shells could break bones, and their tongues were coated with a paralytic venom. Many a luckless swimmer had been caught by those tongues and left drifting, helpless, bones snapped, after a latchtongue had spat them into the currents.

Luckily, they were blind and primarily fed on anything too slow to get out of their way: crustaceans mostly. They blindly dragged themselves along the seafloor, tongues grabbing for food. So long as she stayed above them, she would be safe, though she also had to avoid getting too close to the boat. Even with all of the debris being thrown up, and the bubbles produced by the belching oysters, the boatmen might still see her if she was too close.

It would be trivial for her to knock out or kill the two men in the boat. But she dare not risk it. For this plan to work, she had to remain undetected for as long as possible.

The boat had to have come from the estate, but she did not know how. She supposed that Aridin most likely had a tunnel under his estate. A few of the old manors on the coasts had smuggling tunnels hidden beneath them. But they were often well concealed, sometimes by magic. Her only chance to find Aridin's was by following the boat.

She was really hating this. But it was her best chance.

Something brushed against Marci's ankle. It twitched, wire-thin and sharp.

Marci pulled her leg away quickly as the line was wound in. It had inflicted a tiny cut. If there were any sharks around…

Marci quashed the worry, but remained watchful. She would just have to hope that a shark did not get curious.

In the boat, the line came up empty. Marci remained in place, treading water. She could only just see the hull through the silt. Would they suspect anything?

The line went back down. Marci would have breathed a little easier if she was not underwater, and if her supply of air was not dependant on a seaweed-covered pipe just barely poking above the surface.

Nature was on her side where the lines were concerned. There were curious fish swimming around the boat, probably hoping for food to drift up from below, disturbed by the latchtongues. The lineman in the boat perhaps thought his line had been disturbed by one of them. Marci's presence here was so unlikely, it was the last thing they would expect.

As Marci varied between slowly swimming after the boat and treading water whenever it stopped, more juvenile latchtongues were being drawn up into the boat. The lines tangled up around their shells, preventing them from lashing out at the boatmen. They could only pull in so many.

Marci was a strong swimmer, despite her dislike of deep water. Others might have started to tire, either panicking and attempting to surface, or sinking into the clutches of the latchtongue oysters. But even she would grow too tired to keep swimming if they took too long.

Below her, the reef slowly crawled along the seabed, a little closer than she would have liked. The rising silt roused by their passage, and the bubbles they belched, tickled her skin, already tingling in the saltwater. She had to concentrate. If she lost her focus and sank, she would not only flood the pipe and deny herself air, she would risk drawing the attention of the oysters. If she rose too high, the men in the boat might spot her.

The boat started to move again, pushed by the wind. Marci carefully started to kick, keeping her movements gentle, using her arms as little as possible.

She was going to make a point of thanking Mirana once again for teaching her how to swim.

The boat came to an abrupt halt. Marci kicked to stop herself from drifting too close, harder than she had intended.

Something slimy snaked past her ankle, and she felt stinging barbs against her skin.

Marci moved her foot away before the tongue could curl around it. Her sudden movement had caught the attention of one of the oysters.

The tongue lashed out again, missed, lashed out yet again, and caught a stray fish and yanked it away.

Marci was fighting a rising panic. Already, her foot was becoming numb. The stinging and the rubbery feeling was starting to rise up her shin, towards her knee. If it kept spreading…

No allies were around to pluck her from the depths this time.

Just as Marci decided that she would rather take her chances with the men in the boat than drown, or be smashed to pieces by the latchtongues, the numbness ceased at her knee. She would have breathed a sigh of relief if she had been above the water. She must have been struck by the tongue of a juvenile oyster—one whose venom had not yet become fully potent.

Her movements were a little clumsier, and she made a concentrated effort to keep as still as possible. She might not be so lucky again. Even if another juvenile poisoned her, it would be enough to doom her.

She was actually starting to wish that she had asked Lyralei to do this instead. But she couldn't ask someone else to risk their life in her stead. And protecting Mirana was her duty, not Lyralei's.

The last few lines jerked and started to ascend, carrying their venomous and valuable catches up towards the boat. Marci watched, forcing herself to remain as still as possible, moving her limbs just enough to avoid sinking.

Finally, the last struggling oyster was pulled into the boat. It had to be full of the damn things by now. Marci had to admit that her liking for them as food had waned.

The boat started to move, more quickly now, clearly not about to stop to try to catch more latchtongues. Marci swam slowly after it. It would eventually clear the cloud of silt and bubbles, and she would lose her cover. She would have to be careful, and hope that neither of the men aboard peered too closely behind the boat.

Its wake would help to conceal her, and the sun was setting. Still, she had to be patient.

The boat started to turn towards the cliffs, that was a good sign. As they cleared the oysters, Marci saw oars dip into the water. She had to swim more quickly to keep up now, being ever careful to keep the end of the pipe above the surface.

They were drawing closer to the cliffs, and the sandy seafloor was rising to meet them. Marci was growing uneasy again. She would be forced to the surface soon, and surely the boatmen weren't going to beach their craft right next to the cliffs.

Then she spotted it: a narrow channel, lined with bricks, a tiny canal just large enough to appoint a small boat. An artificial river leading into the cliffs.

She had not seen it earlier, which suggested a magical concealment. If, as she suspected, the strange eye-shaped amulet allowed her to see through illusions, then it had not let her down.

The boat loitered for a moment, the men stowing the sail and lowering the mast. The hull flickered, vanishing for a brief moment. Again, Marci guessed that the amulet allowed her to still see the boat, which had probably been hidden by another illusion.

Aridin was wealthy, and obviously still had connections within and outside of the Imperium. It was not inconceivable that he could acquire magical devices. She had to wonder what other tricks he and his cronies had up their sleeves. Did he have a mage in his service?

These were problems she had to worry about now rather than later. If he did have a mage hanging around, there was every chance he might detect her.

Only one way to find out. Marci continued to follow the boat as its crew carefully guided it into the channel and into the narrow entrance. The surface was pretty close now, and Marci practically had to crawl after it to avoid surfacing. The water deepened again on the other side, and the irregular shape of the course suggested that this was a naturally formed cave. It was darker in here though, which worked in her favour.

What was not natural were the sturdy metal doors built across the waterway, and the boat had nearly cleared them already. Marci kicked hard, but the doors were already closing.

They thudded shut just as she reached them. She stopped herself from colliding with them, pressing her hands against them. At least she could raise her head above the surface now.

Marci surfaced, pulled the goggles onto her forehead and removed the pipe from her mouth, frowned up at the doors, then gave them a little shove—as well as she could manage whilst treading water.

They did not budge, nor was she electrocuted or paralysed or turned into a toad. They weren't protected by magic. But nor could she open them. She supposed that she could have forced them open, but that was hardly subtle.

Marci pushed away from the doors, pondering, ignoring the salt water dripping into her eyes from her sodden fringe. Brute force was not a sensible option, but there was no obvious way to open them. She could only assume the men in the boat had used a password or perhaps even a magical item to open them.

Marci sighed, annoyed. She hated to think that she had wasted the opportunity, come so close, only to be stopped by these blasted doors!

She was tired, and she nearly sank as she lost her focus, her mouth dipping below the waterline. She spluttered and kicked a little harder, considering trying to find somewhere to hide, hoping that another boat might appear.

'Look more closely, Marci.'

The voice startled her and she nearly sank again. She grew a little more annoyed, thinking that it was patronising her.

And then it occurred to her: the cave was a natural formation. The doors were not, and it was unlikely that they would use something as complicated as a lock to lower and raise the water level.

Marci stowed the pipe and goggles in her waistband, drew in a breath, and submerged.

There! She had missed it earlier: a narrow gap beneath the doors, enough to allow water to flow, narrow enough to keep out curious sharks and the like.

It would be a difficult squeeze for her. If she became stuck…

Marci surfaced again, filled her lungs as much as possible, and went under again, forcing away her hesitation and swimming straight for the narrow gap. There was one spot which was a little wider, and she made for it. Flat on her belly, she wriggled under the gap. There was a moment in which she almost panicked, when her hips became stuck, her lungs starting to sear. Pressing herself harder against the stone forced some of the air from her, but it was enough to allow her through.

Rather than surface immediately, despite the burning in her chest, she made for one of the walls, sticking to the shadows, and slowly approached the surface, her lips clamped shut.

Very slowly, she raised herself up the wall until her eyes cleared the surface.

She could just about see what appeared to be an underground dock, two small boats moored at the jetties. There was a third, longer than the other two, probably meant for hauling heavier cargo. Maybe it met with bigger ships further out to sea to smuggle illicit booty in or out of the estate.

There were the two boatmen, busy extracting their catch. Even tangled up, the oysters struggled, and the men had to be careful with them. The lone guard was busy watching them.

Marci slowly lifted her nose above the water so that she could breathe. She clung to the rock wall, watching the men from the shadows as they worked. They were busy inserting narrow skewers into oysters' shells, packing them into a crate.

Being well-practised, they finished their task quickly. Marci watched as they carried the crate towards a narrow flight of stairs. The guard shook his head, grumbled indistinctly, and sat down on one of the crates.

Marci ducked back under the water and swam towards the dock. She was inside at last. She would stay until she found Mirana. If she could, she would free her, Luna and Aiushtha and escape with them.

And if they had harmed Mirana or the others, she would exact bloody retribution against Aridin and his thugs.

A big thanks to Annbe11, March4fun and BarrissOffee99 for some great ideas. Annbe11 helped me to devise Marci's less-than-enjoyable route into the estate, as well as the latchtongue oysters, BarrissOffee99 helped me to develop Thorne, and March4fun kept me on course when I had doubts, and gave me some good ideas for later. We make a great team.