In a prison a thousand years old, an ancient evil stirred. The Fell Dragon flexed against the magic that bound him, as he had done countless times over the centuries. But what was this? A shifting, a stretching, and then… a snap. He channeled his power, scraping away at the Divine energy that kept him locked away. It may have taken days, or it may have taken years. Such spans of time did not concern Sombron. All that mattered was the moment when a tear appeared in the fabric of his prison. His power leached out into Elyos, searching, calling. His escape was inevitable.

"Elusia is in a bad state."

Zelkov didn't say anything to the king's vast understatement; he merely waited.

"We're losing the war with Brodia. More of our best soldiers fall every day. Our poor harvest is unlikely to sustain us through the winter, and Queen Eve's "nonaggression pact" will make importing food triple the price. That is not something our empty coffers can afford."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

King Hyacinth's shrewd eyes held a glint of amusement as he regarded Zelkov. "You know all this. Whether you care or not, I'm not quite sure. But you are currently wondering why I've called you here to listen to me blather about things that any fool off the street could tell you."

"Perceptive as always, Your Majesty."

"Honest as always, Zelkov." King Hyacinth laughed then grew serious. "These are dangerous times to be king. There are many who think that they could do a better job of guiding Elusia through her troubles — or at least think they could wring some advantage out of her death throes — if I was out of the way. You, personally, have foiled several of these attempts on my life. Your skills are unparalleled."

"Your praise is unnecessary, Sire. I fulfill my obligations towards you."

The king gave him a tight-lipped smile. "You're familiar with my daughter, Ivy, aren't you?"

The circuitous talk and abrupt change of subject were typical of King Hyacinth.

"I am as familiar with the princess as any of your other subjects are. She has, for the most part, been away at the Academy since my elevation to royal guardsman."

The king certainly already knew this. Zelkov rather wished he would get to the point, but that was not the Elusian way. Not at court anyway.

"She has graduated. Top of her class, of course. Ivy's always been a hard worker." This time, Hyacinth's smile seemed genuine. "And now she's ready to take on her duties as crown princess. This is where you come in."

Hyacinth casually tapped his fingers on the arm of the throne. Zelkov once again waited for him to elaborate.

"I am going to appoint you as Ivy's retainer."

"Would that not leave you open to attack, Your Majesty?"

"I have Abyme and Rodine, as well as the rest of the royal guard. Yes, yes, I know they're not you," he said to Zelkov's silence. "But I've survived the Elusian court for this long. I like to think I can manage for a while longer."

"If that is your will…"

"It is. These are dangerous times, and there is no one I trust more to protect her than you. Take care of Ivy for me, won't you?"

He was not attractive. Ivy was sure of that. If, perhaps, his eyes were a very striking shade of gold, they were also as cold as midwinter ice. He stared down his long nose at her, seeming to calculate her worth and find her wanting. His face might have been carved from some kind of peculiar greyish-brown stone for all the expression it showed.

Carved with a certain amount of artistry…

She shoved that thought down. He stood unnaturally still, yet seemed poised to move at any second. Taken altogether with his monochromatic attire, he gave the impression of some vengeful spirit. It sent a shiver down Ivy's spine that she was very careful not to show.

He bowed to her at exactly the angle appropriate for a retainer to their liege. She dragged her eyes back to the king and tried to focus on what he was saying.

"I'm sure you're familiar with Zelkov?" Father asked nonchalantly.

"The assassin."

Of course she had heard of him. People throughout the castle whispered rumors behind their hands while avoiding his sidelong glances. They said he single-handedly killed an entire troupe of bandits at the age of eighteen. They said he knew every poison ever made and had invented some himself. They said his knives could pin a falling leaf to a target. They, in fact, said a great many ridiculous things.

"Former assassin. He has proven himself as a royal guardsman many times. His… unique skill set will be an asset to you."

"Thank you, Your Majesty, for your consideration."

Ivy curtsied and walked sedately out of the audience chamber — however much she might want to clench her fists and stomp away like a child. The shadow detached itself from the throne and followed after her.

She was beautiful. Zelkov couldn't deny that. Her eyes were the color of the sky just as the sun has dipped under the horizon. Her nose was delicate, and her lips curved elegantly. Her hair was a curtain of silk. Her body was… well, it could best be described as the daydream of a lascivious man.

Her expression, though, was haughty. Of course, he had heard all the gossip about her iciness. The catty noblewomen spoke of how aloof and evasive she was while the noblemen stalked her with their eyes. No doubt she would be just as scheming and petty as the other Elusian ladies.

But the most damning strike against her was that her eyes betrayed no sign of life, no vivacity whatsoever. She was, in a word, boring, and to Zelkov nothing could be worse. But that was irrelevant. His purpose was now to protect her and serve her, and he would do so to the best of his ability.

Ivy allowed herself to relax as Tansy brushed her hair. That brief moment of repose was abruptly shattered by a knock on the door.

"I'll get it, ma'am," Tansy said cheerily.

Ivy didn't mind that her maid had a habit of using the wrong honorifics. It was honestly endearing. And the girl had a natural talent for styling Ivy's hair and makeup.

Ivy leapt out of her chair as she heard a scream from the sitting room. She found her maid cowering against the wall. Zelkov stood in the doorway.

"Ma'am! The assassin!"

"Zelkov is going to be my retainer from now on. By the king's orders."

He bowed. His expression, or lack thereof, hadn't changed once.

"Oh. F-forgive me for causing a scene, ma'am."

"Think nothing of it." That face would scare anyone.

"I'll just be going then…" Tansy bobbed a curtsey and nearly ran out of the room.

Ivy and Zelkov stared at each other.

"The king has requested your presence. I am here to escort you."

"Very well."

She took her time, making a show of examining her face in the mirror, while assessing him. Zelkov was once again standing with his arms crossed. His hair was in his face, which bothered her. Couldn't the retainer of the crown princess make an effort to look presentable?

Having double-checked her own appearance, Ivy swept out of the room. Zelkov followed her. His long legs had no trouble keeping up with her quick pace. An uncomfortable silence settled in. It was uncomfortable for her anyway; she had no idea how he felt.

"In the future, could you please refrain from scaring my maid?" she said primly. "Tansy has enough to deal with as it is."

"It was not my intention to startle her. However, I will be more conscientious in announcing my presence from now on.

"That would be… appreciated."

He was certainly polite. She couldn't fault him there. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking why he spoke in such a strange way.

"...What is it that your maid has to 'deal with'?"

"Oh. Well… Her father was a footman who was… in the wrong place at the wrong time, during an attempt on my father's life. He left behind quite a large family — Tansy being the oldest of eight. The widow receives a stipend, of course, but I asked to hire Tansy as my maid and Father approved. And she's done an excellent job," Ivy said somewhat defensively.

Zelkov didn't reply. Why would he care about her maid anyway? Was this some attempt at small talk? Trying to find some weakness?

Regardless, their conversation was cut off as they reached the council room. Her father was now including her in all his meetings with his advisors, and Ivy was determined to learn all she could. She sat in the chair to the king's right while Zelkov merged into the wall behind her.

King Hyacinth gestured towards her. "Princess Ivy, why don't you lead this meeting?"

Ivy bowed her head. "If that is your wish, Your Majesty."

"For this meeting, you shall act in my place. Your words are mine."

Well, that was daunting. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap so that they wouldn't betray her nervousness. What sort of expression said "approachable yet authoritative?"

The War Minister stood up. As the conflict with Brodia had dragged on and on, the title had accumulated a great deal of power. Ivy disliked him — and the rest of his family, in fact — but the crown needed his support.

He launched into a description of the war effort, which everyone was well aware of. Elusia was losing ground every day.

"We need new weapons. And none of these flimsy ones we've been getting lately. Our soldiers can't fight without real weapons."

"We can't afford 'real' weapons," said the Finance Minister. "I need not remind you where all the good steel is. We can either buy Brodian weapons on the Solmic black market for exorbitant prices, or we can use the weapons produced domestically. And believe me when I say we don't have the coin to pay exorbitant prices.

"We may as well start using hoes and pitchforks!"

"If it comes to it…"

"We must look to the Fell Dragon for guidance," the High Priest broke in. "He will provide us with a solution to our woes. He will raise Elusia up from her troubles."

"Our prayers to the Fell Dragon have proven less than effective so far," Ivy said with a bit more tartness than she had intended. "Perhaps we should look elsewhere for solutions."

"Perhaps not all of our prayers have been as devout as they should be," the High Priest muttered.

"Where exactly should we be looking for solutions, Princess Ivy?" questioned the War Minister. "I haven't heard your — no doubt brilliant — suggestions for seeing that our soldiers are armed with decent weapons."

Ivy's brain froze for a moment, then she took a deep breath. "True, Brodia has the highest quality steel in Elyos and produces the finest weapons, but Elusia has its own specialties. We should stop all exports of magic tomes and staves. In the short run, this may decrease the amount of gold flowing into Elusia, but once the demand for them outside of Elusia is great enough, we should be able to use that as leverage when bartering for weapons with the Solmic merchants."

The Finance Minister shot a glance at King Hyacinth, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. Ivy mentally sighed in relief. Although, just because her plan was accepted, didn't mean it would work.

"I will see to it that all export of tomes and staves is halted immediately, Your Highness."

"Thank you, Minister."

The meeting continued as each councilor brought reports and complaints. No good news could be found in Elusia these days, it seemed. Ivy listened and gave her opinions, all the while feeling like a skater on very thin ice.

Snow piled up outside the greenhouse, but inside it was comparatively warm. Zelkov stood, mentally cataloging the various flora on display, while Princess Ivy sat at a small table set for tea. This was a common place for her to visit when she had no affairs of state to attend to. Currently, she was contemplating a flower, twirling it between her fingers.

It would be a picturesque scene for a painting…

He discarded that thought. "Is there anything that you require , Princess?"

"I am fine, thank you." She brought the flower to her fine nose. "Do you like roses, Zelkov?"

"I find them to be boring."

"...I see."

It registered in his head that she was holding a rose. And there were multiple roses on her clothing. And her jewelry was fashioned in the shape of roses.

"I suppose you don't take much interest in flowers. They must seem quite pointless to you." Her voice was as frosty as the glittering flakes on the other side of the glass.

"On the contrary, there is a vast array of medicinal and culinary uses for flowers."

She hummed in a way that could mean anything as she poured herself a cup of tea.

He crossed his arms. "I am also fully capable of appreciating their aesthetic qualities."

"Really?"

She blew on the tea, sending ripples across the surface of the liquid. Zelkov had not quite come up with a reply to her blatant skepticism when his attention was caught. Something felt off. The tea was too cloudy…

"Wait."

"What is it?" she asked with a measure of irritation.

"Do not drink that, Princess."

Zelkov took the cup from her hands. He dipped a finger into the tea, then touched it to his tongue. He spat on the ground.

"Someone is attempting to poison you. Drinking that would cause muscle spasms, leading to respiratory failure, and ultimately death."

"Oh."

The princess sat very still. She did an excellent job of controlling her facial expression, but he was quite well-versed in all the telltale signs of fear.

"Princess, I will escort you back to your chambers. Lock the door. Admit no one. I will investigate this."

She stood with all her usual gracefulness, but her hands were tightly clasped.

She let out an odd little laugh. "My first assassination attempt. I'm really a member of the court now, aren't I?

"No, thank you," Ivy said to the footman offering her bread.

She looked down at her empty plate.

"Shaken up by your first poisoning?" her father asked in a low voice.

"Is it obvious?"

"You're handling it with all the stoicism that I expect from you. But I have gone through this experience before and know how it feels."

She watched him take a bite of bread and her stomach growled. She hadn't eaten in a day and a half.

"Don't worry, my dear." He pointed to a large tureen of soup that the footman was ladling from. "Why do you think we so often eat from communal dishes?"

That was true… The main course was a huge fish, ready to be portioned out for the courtiers at the table. Ivy accepted her bowl of soup after the king had been served. Still, her spoon hovered over the steaming broth.

"How do you deal with it?" she whispered. "The apprehension. The constant awareness that any moment could be your last."

"I suppose it's unhelpful to say that you get used to it to a certain degree. You'll always be jumping at shadows. More than you already do." Her father teased her gently about her long standing fear of ghosts. "But you have Zelkov to protect you. He's already proven himself in that regard."

"Yes…" Ivy didn't turn around, but she knew he was lurking behind her.

"I heard he's been turning the castle upside down, trying to find out who administered the poison. He nearly brought the kitchen staff to tears. He can be rather intense sometimes — well, most of the time."

Ivy exhaled heavily through her nose. It was almost a laugh. Her father didn't quite put his hand on top of hers, but he put it beside hers.

"I'll find you another retainer as well. Two is customary after all. It's just so hard to find someone you can trust…"

Zelkov knocked on the door of Princess Ivy's chambers and waited. He envisioned the final steps in creating the inlay for the wooden chest he had been working on. Marquetry had proven to be an engrossing project, but now that he was almost finished, he was restless. He needed something else to occupy his mind. Ivy's maid opened the door.

He gave her a slight bow. "Good morning, Miss Tansy."

She still looked at him wide-eyed, but at least she had stopped hiding behind the door. As she led him to the princess, he noticed a slight awkwardness in how she was walking. It appeared that the sole of her boot had started to come apart. An idea for a new project began to form.

He stopped short when he saw the princess. What she was wearing was certainly not her customary floor-length dresses. In fact, it seemed to mostly be composed of leather: a fur-lined jacket, gloves, tall boots.

"What is the… occasion?"

"It's been far too long since I've done any training."

She picked up a tome and strapped it to her belt. Without a second glance at him, the princess walked out of the room. He regulated his pace to stay the optimal distance behind her. There was no conversation as they made their way to the wyvern stable. He preferred this to strained attempts at idle chit chat.

He did spare a few moments to examine the wyvern stable, even aside from cataloging locations where attackers might hide. It was actually an enormous natural cavern that had likely housed wyverns since long before the castle stood. Large braziers provided some illumination to the stable hands, but it did not reach to the far distant ceiling.

Several of the great reptiles raised their heads as Princess Ivy approached. She greeted them by name and patted their leathery snouts. She did not stop, however, until she reached a dark beast that flapped its wings and made a noise like rusted hinges.

The princess stroked the crest on the wyvern's head. "I know, Belladonna, I know. It's been far too long, but we'll stretch your wings today."

She finally looked back at Zelkov as if to gauge his reaction. The wyvern, too, looked at him with its disconcertingly pink eyes. He would not say he was afraid of it, but it was only prudent to maintain a safe distance from an unfamiliar animal. Particularly one so large and… spiked.

"She's extremely well-trained. She would never hurt anyone… unless I asked her to."

The wyvern sniffed him, then snorted and promptly lost any interest in him in favor of rubbing its head against the princess. The face that had been cooly regarding him suddenly broke out into a smile. Princess Ivy scratched under the wyvern's chin while resting her cheek on its forehead.

Was that a genuine smile? It was not large, but there was… something to it. Her eyes were filled with a tenderness that made him uncomfortable. She turned back to him and that warmth faded. Certainly, he had no particular feelings about that.

The princess led her wyvern to the mouth of the cave. It followed as meekly as a lamb. A stablehand brought out a saddle and bridle for the beast. Princess Ivy took it from his hands and saddled the wyvern herself. With practiced efficiency, she made sure that every strap was secure but not constricting. Upon finishing, she patted the wyvern's side.

"Good job, Bella. Good girl! Come on!"

She made a clicking noise and led the fearsome creature out to the training field. Zelkov followed as well. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bright sun reflecting off the snow. It would be the perfect time for an attack, but none came.

Princess Ivy made a different clicking sound and said, "Down, girl."

The wyvern settled low onto its haunches. In a smooth motion, the princess put her foot in the stirrup and vaulted into the saddle. There was more patting and praise. Her voice sounded so different than usual. But once again that changed when she addressed him.

"If you're going to continue hanging around, you might want to stand over there." She pointed to the far side of the training field as she unstrapped the tome from her belt. "It's not Bolganone, but Elfire is still dangerous."

Hanging around? Is that what she called guarding her life?

"From that distance it would be difficult for me to guarantee your safety."

"I'm going to be fifty paces up the air conjuring fire." She raised her eyebrow. "Feel free to keep an eye out for enemy archers, though."

"Whatever you say, Princess."

He turned and walked to the other side of the field. He leaned against a fence post as the wyvern gained altitude. The tome began to glow in the princess's hand. She stretched out her other hand and fire bloomed from her fingertips. It grew into a swirling ball. With a commanding gesture, she sent it hurtling at a target which was promptly reduced to smoldering ash.

She was skilled. He had to give her that. His expertise did not include magic, but it was common knowledge that the concentration it required meant that only the most accomplished mages could perform while mounted.

He crossed his arms. From here, at least, he had a good view if anyone did decide to shoot a projectile at her, but he would not be able to do anything about it. That thought was an irritation, an itch he could not scratch. As with all such unwanted thoughts, he drowned it out with ideas for his next pursuit. What sort of leather could he get his hands on? Did he have the right kind of awl? He drafted patterns in his head as the wyvern swooped and dove amid plumes of fire.

Ivy inspected her appearance in the mirror as Tansy let Zelkov in. This had become the routine, but today Tansy didn't immediately lead him into the dressing room. There seemed to be some kind of excitement. Ivy walked into her sitting room.

"Thank you! Oh thank you so much! Princess Ivy! Aren't these the most beautiful boots you've ever seen?"

The maid held out a pair of fine leather boots for Ivy to inspect. The craftsmanship was indeed exceptional. An elegant design had been stitched into it, and fur peeked out the top.

Ivy forgave the lack of decorum as Tansy pulled off her old boots and put on the new ones. She examined her feet and spun in a circle.

"They fit perfectly! How did you know, Sir Zel?"

Sir Zel? That was a new one.

"I estimated based on the footprints left on the rug."

Tansy looked at him with wonderment written across her face.

"Where did you get these?" Ivy asked.

"I crafted them."

"You made these? For me?" Tansy squeaked.

"It was purely a means to keep myself occupied."

His lack of enthusiasm didn't faze Tansy in the slightest. She was busy examining her feet at all angles. Ivy was loath to admit that she was the tiniest bit… jealous. They were finer than any of her own boots.

And what was he doing giving gifts to her maid anyway? What exactly was he trying to accomplish? What advantage would he gain from bribing Tansy?

Ivy regarded him suspiciously, but his face was as impassive as ever. It bothered her immensely to have someone in a position so close to her be such a mystery. She was determined to find out what exactly went on behind those frigid eyes of his.

The little maid's effusive reaction to the boots had made Zelkov uncomfortable. Still, he was pleased with the results. They should be quite sturdy and warm. Durable enough to last her through many winters.

As the princess sat through another interminable cabinet meeting, his thoughts quickly abandoned his last pursuit and searched for another. While he turned over various possibilities in his mind, he examined the faces of the ministers.

That one scowled as he ranted on and on about the Brodian army encroaching further and further into Elusia. This one sweated nervously as he talked about the growing unrest among the people. One looked at the princess with a faint smirk, another with barely concealed lust.

What drew his attention, though, was the hateful aura that radiated from the High Priest every time he looked at the princess. Zelkov did not understand why she continued to snub the man. It was none of his concern — unless the High Priest was the one trying to assassinate her. Yet, just because the High Priest was the most obvious did not make him the culprit. There could be multiple culprits. All the ministers were suspect.

However, Zelkov was well aware that investigating any of them was a dangerous and likely fruitless task. He had tried many times in his years of service to the king, but one does not rise to a position of power in Elusia unless they are very careful.

As he was standing behind her, he could not see the princess's face. More and more the king was dictating that she lead these meetings. It seemed a heavy responsibility for those slight shoulders. But of course that was none of his business.

Ivy eyes were unfocused, taking in only the kaleidoscope of Destinea Cathedral's stained glass windows, as the High Priest droned on. What would he say if he knew that her prayers went to the Divine Dragon rather than the Fell? While she didn't care about his judgment on a personal level, it would be a terrible scandal and would lose her the support of the people, so she mouthed the invocations of the Fell Dragon while her mind pictured the Divine.

She had been very small when she first discovered the book tucked away in a corner of the grand library. The cover had a pretty design on it, which was why she picked it up. And inside there were beautiful pictures, illustrations of the twelve heroes of Elyos. Though she pored over each illustration, Ivy paid special attention to the Lady of the Plains, the protector of Elusia. In one hand she held her sword. The other held a ring — the same ring that Ivy had seen carefully warded in her father's room.

She had wondered why someone from the plains was the protector of mountainous Elusia. The only explanation her little brain could come up with was that Lady Lyndis liked the color green and Elusia's national color was green.

Ivy flipped through more pages until she came upon a picture of two dragons fighting. One was black and purple. The other was white and blue. They were locked in a circle, biting each other's necks. She knew the black and purple one was the Fell Dragon, which meant that the white and blue one must be the Divine Dragon. It was much prettier.

In the middle of the circle were human-like figures — but not actually human. One had purple skin and a third eye. That would be the Fell Dragon again, Lord Sombron. Across from him… there was a beautiful woman. She had lovely blue hair covered by a white veil. Her eyes were the kindest Ivy had ever seen. Her hands were folded in prayer. She looked so calm and kind and beautiful that Ivy found herself desperately wishing that this lady was her mother. But if the man was the Fell Dragon, that could only mean that this was the Divine Dragon...

Ivy stared at the painted image of the Divine Dragon for a long time. The colors were soft: blue and pink, white and gold. She barely even noticed a third figure — a young woman in black with red hair and red eyes — before Ivy's mother called her away.

"I should have known I would find you here." Mother snatched up her hand and dragged her away. "Why are you wasting time looking at these musty religious texts? You're not going to be a priest."

Asking Mother questions was always risky, but this one burned too hot for Ivy to ignore. "Why do we worship the Fell Dragon when everyone else in Elyos worships the Divine Dragon?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, girl. The people need religion to function. It doesn't matter who they worship. You just need to make sure they know you're appropriately devout. But don't take it too far. No one wants a zealot as a ruler."

Ivy thought that might be all Mother had to say, but it seemed she had struck a nerve. Mother was so different in private from the always-smiling woman the court saw.

"What did Lumera ever do for Elusia, anyway? We worshipped her faithfully for centuries and what did it get us? Nothing but wretched snow! Couldn't she use her 'divine powers' to make Elusia warm and green like Firene? And what does she do when Brodia invades? She sits there and gives that bastard Morion a stern look — as if that'll stop him from marching troops across the straits."

Ivy absorbed this as she was pulled along in Mother's vice grip. "...Does that mean you've seen the Divine Dragon!?"

"Of course. Do you think I would trust your father to negotiate at all these 'summits' in Lythos by himself? Your tutor is clearly not teaching you politics well enough. We'll have to remedy that."

That sounded ominous, but Ivy couldn't help asking one more question. "But if the Divine Dragon is in Lythos, where is the Fell Dragon?"

Mother rolled her eyes. "He's been imprisoned for the last thousand years by your precious Divine Dragon."

Why would they worship the one who had lost the fight? So much of this made no sense to Ivy. From then on, she made it her mission to find out every scrap of information she could about the Divine Dragon. And before bed each night, she would say her prayers and imagine Queen Lumera's warm hand on her forehead.

Ivy snapped out of her reverie as the High Priest finished the final invocation. She processed out along with her father. As had become the norm at this point, a dark presence hovered over her right shoulder. How Zelkov managed to be so foreboding all the time was a mystery she didn't have the patience for. Why couldn't her father have assigned her someone more pleasant? Of course, the people who were pleasant to her always wanted something in return…

As they reached the castle, Ivy split off from the stream of courtiers and headed towards her room. She was starting to feel one of her headaches coming on.

Without warning, she was whirled behind a pillar. She didn't even register the sound of metal hitting the far wall. Zelkov had one arm around her stomach and a hand over her mouth.

"Do not move,Princess Ivy," he hissed into her ear.

And then he was gone. What was happening? How dare he manhandle her like that! There was a strange swooping feeling in her stomach.

Before she had a chance to gather herself, Zelkov reappeared dragging a dead body. His teeth were bared into a snarl.

"This assassin was dedicated. He took his own life before I could question him."

He threw the body at her feet. She stared at it numbly as he picked up the dagger that had hit the wall directly behind where she had been standing.

"Nothing identifiable. It is poisoned, though I do not believe it would have been necessary. It would have struck you directly in the throat if I had not intervened."

Ivy involuntarily put a hand to her neck. She had a silly urge to cling onto him, but his face… It was filled with cold fury. She instead focused on breathing in and out to still the panic that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Let me escort you to your chambers."

A faint "yes" was all she could manage.

He led the way, every moment on the lookout for any sign of danger. She was determined not to do anything embarrassing like follow too closely on his heels. She would be calm and collected. As a royal of Elusia, this sort of thing was expected. It was just that… the last time hadn't been so violent. There hadn't been a face to attach to the crime. There hadn't been a dead body.

When they reached Ivy's door, he stopped her. "Allow me to examine your chambers for any danger."

Ivy nodded, then cleared her throat and said, "Do what you think is necessary."

She hated to admit, though, that she would rather not have him leave her side. She stood, wishing she had a tome — why did she not carry anything to protect herself with? — until he had finished his search.

"Everything appears to be in order, Princess. I will investigate this most recent attempt on your life, though I am not confident that there will be any leads .

"Very well, Zelkov. And… thank you. For saving my life. Again."

"I was simply doing my duty."

She felt her throat close up. The events of the day seemed to have thrown her emotions in disarray.

"I'm glad you don't feel the need to pretend you like me."

He regarded her with his usual icy stare.

"Let me make this absolutely clear. My concern for your well-being is genuine. It is, after all, my responsibility."

She hummed noncommittally. He continued.

"Yet for some reason it concerns you whether I have fond feelings towards you. So, allow me to state it plainly. I do not have fond feelings toward you, Princess Ivy. I see such things as irrelevant. Whatever my sentiments may be, what matters is that you have my obedience."

"What a curious thing for my own retainer to say. But that's a relief. I don't like you either."

It was a childish thing to say, spiteful in the face of his indifference. But why should she care if he liked her or not? Of course it did not concern her what his feelings were. As if he had any.

"I will obey you regardless."

"So good to hear."

He bowed to her, then left. She locked the door behind him, then slid down it until she was on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest.

After an hour of tossing and turning, Ivy slipped out of bed. She threw a coat on over her nightgown and pulled on a pair of boots. As an afterthought, she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.

She cursed under her breath as the door creaked on her way out, but the halls were mercifully empty. She hurried through the castle, making full use of the many servants' stairs and secret passageways. When she reached the courtyard, she looked this way and that, but saw only the new-fallen snow. Her feet crunched through it, leaving a trail. No one would know it was her, though…

Ivy breathed a sigh of relief when she made it to the wyvern stables, bringing the warm, metallic scent to her nose. She made soothing noises when the wyverns greeted her.

Belladonna produced a low rumbling when Ivy rested her cheek against her nose.

"I couldn't sleep, Bella. All alone in a big empty room where every shadow might be someone coming to kill me."

Loneliness was a familiar feeling to Ivy, but it seemed like it had never ached quite this hard. At least at school she had had friends. Well… acquaintances... People who hung around her hoping for favors. At least at school she had had Hortensia. Her little sister could be childish and frankly a bit obnoxious, but she was family.

But Hortensia was far away at the Elusian Academy right now. There was Father, but it wasn't as if Ivy could go to his room in the middle of the night. He had seemed distant lately, too. She knew that he was trying to prepare her to be queen one day, but she couldn't help but feel like she was being thrown to the wolves.

And then there was Zelkov. She couldn't get out of her head the disdainful expression on his face as he told her he had "no fond feelings" towards her. It shouldn't matter. It shouldn't matter at all. But it did. She hated him so much she wanted to — well, she wanted to cry. But she wouldn't.

It was embarrassing, but growing up she had daydreamed about her retainers. They would be kind and caring. Serious but with a sense of humor. They would be her friends and confidants.

And they would be tall and strong and handsome… maybe with red hair. But that's not important.

She stepped into Belladonna's nest and huddled against her warm belly. The wyvern curved around her protectively. Despite her best efforts, a few tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Sometimes, I think you're the only one who truly cares about me."

She bolted upright as the wyverns began to hiss. There was an intruder. Was it another assassin? Or… No, not a ghost. Surely not a ghost.

Her voice shook pathetically as she called out, "Who's there?"

Belladonna reared back into a protective stance, poised to strike. A figure materialized from the darkness.

"It is only me, Princess."

"Zelkov! What are you doing here?"

That was a stupid question, but she was not currently in the right mood to deal with him. She very much did not want to look at his awful face.

"I observed you sneaking out of your chambers the night after an assassin attempted to take your life."

"I suppose that means you're not going to go away then."

"I cannot leave you unprotected."

"Because it is your job."

"Correct."

He stepped closer. The embers glowing in the braziers glinted off his eyes. He was staring at her. Ivy suddenly realized what a mess she was. Her hair was uncombed, she wasn't wearing makeup, she was dressed in her nightgown for goodness sake!

She put her chin in the air. "Is there something wrong?"

The princess looked different without her makeup on. She looked younger. Her skin was not quite flawless. Though she maintained her haughty expression, tears had left tracks down her cheeks.

"Is there something wrong?"

Zelkov had been studying her face too long. He cast about for something to say, some reason for examining her.

"I… had not realized you had a mole."

He had chosen poorly.

The coldness of her voice put the mid-winter winds to shame as she said, "It's comforting to know my retainer pays so much attention to me."

"...Allow me to accompany you back to your chambers."

"No. I'm not going back right now."

"You are going to sleep in the stables."

"Yes."

"Very well, Princess." He crossed his arms.

"You're just… going to stand there all night?"

"As I said, I cannot leave you unprotected."

"Could you at least stand a bit farther away?"

He moved one step backwards. If she could be intractable, then so could he. But when she glared at him, he was reminded of the traces of tears on her face. He turned around and spied an appropriate spot. There was a towering pyramid made from the bales of straw the wyverns used for bedding.

Scaling it was no difficulty. It afforded him a good view of the stable. He settled on one of the bales, with his back against another. It was — all in all — not the worst place he had spent a night.

He could tell that the princess was looking at him, although he could not make out her expression. She shook her head and climbed back into the nest. He watched as she wrapped herself in the blanket, pillowing her head on her wyvern's neck. He plucked up some bits of straw and began to weave them together. And through the long hours of the night, he kept his vigil.