Raea tried to rub away the sleep in her eyes as she stumbled after Cian. The Varathian had barged into her bedchamber at the first crack of dawn, ordering her to follow him. Now she was doing just that.

  “What are we doing here, old man?” Raea asked, feeling the weight of exhaustion on her hunched over shoulders. “And why so early in the morning? I could barely sleep after we got back last night.”

  Cian pushed open the door ahead of Raea as she shuffled down the hall. “You said you wanted to get stronger, right?” He asked. “This is the first step.”

  Raea continued forward, the banging and clanging of metal becoming clearer as she neared the door. Stepping through, she saw a number of men around a forge, working with red hot steel while another man hammered away at an anvil. The smoke escaped through the open back wall, leading to an outdoor area filled with supplies.

  “What is this?” Raea asked, stepping into the space and looking up at the smoke that billowed up to the roof before inching its way to the courtyard.

  “The Royal Forge,” Cian explained as he closed the door behind them. “The Bastion was originally a fortress, and this smithy once armed its garrison. Now it maintains the Imperial Guard’s equipment and occasionally makes special items for the crown.”

  “Hm,” the one at the anvil voiced, looking up from his work at the new arrivals. “Oh, Sir Cian! Are you here about your request?” He put his hammer down before stepping around his work station and running over to the Varathian.

  “Yes, I am,” Cian answered. “Did you get a look at the schematics I gave you?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” the blacksmith said with a bright grin that outshone the soot and ash that smothered his face. “I have to tell you, I’ve always wanted to see what a Varathian’s equipment was like and I have to say that it is brilliant!”

  “OK, I get it,” Cian said, only to be drowned out by the excited craftsman.

  “I mean, you’ve got to tell me where you got those designs,” the man continued. “Are they ancient secrets passed down through your order? No, no! I bet they were given to the original Varathians by the ancient Gods of Vera!” Cian opened his mouth to interrupt, but it was shut back up by the sheer, excited energy of the man before him. “Why, the sword alone has design secrets that modern smiths are still trying to unravel! Don’t even get me started on the armor!”

  “You’re right, I won’t,” Cian finally managed to get it, placing a gentle hand on the blacksmith’s shoulder.

  “Right, right,” the blacksmith, visibly forcing himself to calm. “So, shall I get measurements for your new set?”

  “Not mine,” Cian replied before gesturing to Raea.

  “Oh,” the blacksmith said, pointing to the girl with surprise on his face. “Oh!” he repeated, louder this time. “Are you some kind of miniature Varathian?”

  Raea stared at the man as he grabbed her wrist and lifted her arm over her head, inspecting her like she was a piece of armor he had just finished working on. Before she could rouse her tired mind to do anything about it, however, Cian stepped in.

  “No, she isn't,” he said, taking the blacksmith’s hand and gently removing it from Raea’s person. “But with any luck she’ll be a full-sized one soon.”

  “OK, I see,” the man replied, smiling. “You want something of a training set, right?”

  “I guess you could say that,” Cian answered.

  “Alright, alright!” the blacksmith exclaimed, his grinning face growing brighter and brighter. “Let me go grab my tools,” he said as he started to walk back into the smithy. “Hey, is that special device the Empress ordered finished yet?” he asked of the other workers at the forge as he walked.

  “We’re just testing the moving parts,” one of them answered.

  “Good, good,” the blacksmith replied. “Then I can focus on this job.”

  Raea watched the craftsman before the sound of receding footsteps behind her caught her attention. She looked over her shoulder to see Cian exiting the room.

  “Hey, where are you going?” she asked.

  “I have no interest in watching you get measured,” the Varathian answered. “I recommend that you get done quickly though. Marie’s first order of business today is sentencing Duke Julien.”

  That statement cut through Raea tiredness and woke her up in an instant. “Hurry up back there!” she yelled at the blacksmith. “I’ve got to get to court!”

  ***

  Raea gritted her teeth and pulled up on the hem of her skirt, giving her just enough clearance to comfortably move her feet as she shuffled into the throne room. She was beneath the notice of the nobles and other courtiers who stood around, waiting for the Empress to make her appearance.

  Raea made her way over to Cian, who was standing in a corner away from everyone else. She passed by a pair of nobles, a man and a woman, on the way.

  “Have you seen that delightful fool anywhere?” the man asked before stuffing a small pastry in his mouth.

  “I haven’t,” the woman answered. “I do delight in the little bouncing balls of light he plays with. I hope he shows.”

  Raea snorted at their prattling. They really were lost in a fantasy world where everything was fun and games. But that was the way the Empress wanted things, wasn’t it?

  “They don’t know anything, do they?” Raea asked Cian as she approached him.

  “Not the slightest little bit,” he replied. “Mix together wealth, privilege, and no responsibilities, and that’s what you get.”

  “Then I’m glad I’m not like them,” Raea commented, leaning against the wall in a pose that mimicked the Varathian’s.

  “Hmph,” Cian snorted. “Sounds like that dress doesn’t suit you.”

  “Thank you for noticing,” Raea replied.

  The low lying noise of gossiping nobles fell away as the herald entered the court, announcing the Empress’ arrival. All eyes followed her as she entered and made her way to the throne, Briana only steps behind her. The sovereign ruler of all of Olica stood at the foot of her throne before turning to her gathered subjects.

  “Last night a conspiracy against the crown was uncovered,” she announced to the court. Just as quickly as the nobles had lost their voice they found it again, murmurs spreading throughout the throne room.

  “The plot was led by the Grand Duke Zacharie,” the Empress continued, her voice cutting through the noise. “Last night the Royal Guard moved to arrest the conspirators at his estate, but the Grand Duke will not be able to face justice before the crown. A dispute arose between him and a mercenary he was employing for his plot, leading to an altercation that ended with the Grand Duke’s death. We do, however, have two of his co-conspirators to sentence.” Turning to Basil, she gave him a signal. The Castellan went out a side door, no doubt to retrieve the aforementioned coconspirators.

  Raea’s mouth twisted in thought as she went over the Empress’ words in her head. “Was she talking about Melos?” she asked Cian. “It was kind of vague.”

  “I think so,” the Varathian answered. “I’m guessing she doesn’t want to start an anti-elf panic. No doubt a high ranking noble being killed by one would set off things in certain types of people, even if he was a traitor.”

  “Thinking about the consequences of your actions, right?” Raea offered.

  “Hmph,” Cian snorted. “Look at you, learning.”

  Their conversation was cut short by the return of Basil, followed by a procession of guards and prisoners. First Father Clement, then Duke Julien, each bound by chains and flanked by a pair of armored soldiers.

  The Empress took to her throne as Briana stepped forward, signaling for the first of the prisoners to be brought forward. With a heavy shove one of the guards pushed Father Clement, who stumbled forward several steps before falling to his knees. Another grabbed the chains that bound the priest’s wrists and pulled him the last few feet until he was directly in front of the throne.

  “Father Clement, Court Chaplain to Her Imperial Majesty,” Briana began, pacing back and forth between the prisoner and the throne. “You are guilty of treason against the crown and of aiding and abetting in the conspiracy of Grand Duke Zacharie. The punishment for that crime is death.”

  An overdramatic gasp sprung out of the collective nobility, sounding more like an audience of a play than the witnesses of a royal trial. The priest lowered his head, gritting his teeth in preparation of his oncoming fate.

  “However, our Empress is merciful, so your life will be spared,” Briana said, the court immediately going silent with suspense. Raea scanned the room, rolling her eyes at the thought that this amounted to base entertainment for most of the people gathered here. The priest was sighing in obvious relief.

  “Instead, you shall return to your homeland of the Holy Peninsula, with a message for the High Father detailing our demands for your replacement,” Briana continued. Basil came forward, holding a metal contraption in his hands. With great dexterity he fastened the apparatus around the priest’s neck before producing a rolled up scroll from a pocket and inserting it in a compartment below the prisoner’s chin and pulling up a panel to shut it within.

  “Since you have already proven that you cannot be trusted to communicate the truth, you will carry a message, locked within the device around your neck,” Briana explained. Father Clement attempted to get up onto his feet, but struggled under the weight of the steel that rested atop his shoulders.

  “You will also be escorted by members of the Imperial Guard,” Briana continued. “After you have made the journey to Vera by foot, you will be released into the High Father’s care.” The gathered nobles gasped at this.

  Raea threw a questioning glance at Cian. “The walking part is what gets their attention? You and I walked here from Vera.”

  “Yeah, but we’re not pampered nobles,” Cian replied.

  Briana signaled to the pair of guards that brought Father Clement into the throne, and they pulled the priest to his feet. The nobles cheered as the prisoner was walked out.

  Next to be brought before the throne was Duke Julien. His face filled with stubborn pride, he walked under his own power and stood where Father Clement had knelt.

  “Duke Julien of Chavol,” Briana addressed the disgraced noble. “You are guilty of treason against the crown and of aiding and abetting in the conspiracy of Grand Duke Zacharie. The punishment for that is death.” The people of the court gasped as if they hadn’t heard a similar line mere moments before. Raea once again found herself rolling her eyes.

  “However,” Briana said, keeping to the pattern, “your daughter helped to uncover the conspiracy, and she begged for your life to be spared in return. In her wisdom and mercy, the Empress has granted her request.”

  Most of the people in the room applauded this, but Raea watched on with confusion. She had to begrudgingly give Duke Julien credit though, he seemed suspicious of Briana’s direction.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “Instead,” the elf continued, “you shall be stripped of your land and titles.”

  It was there, in the applause and smiles that filled the throne room, that Raea saw the vital essence of Marie Blachard’s reign. The cabal of nobles were drunk on the balls, parties, and the other extravagancies of the imperial court, sometimes literally and always figuratively. As they lauded the Empress’ generosity and mercy, her enemies were victim and witness to the cruelty that lied within and were given reason to fear her. Either way, they were all under the thumb of Her Imperial Majesty. Whether she was born for it or not, destined or not, she was a ruler, that much was certain.

  Empress Marie stood from her throne, the noise in the room ceasing in anticipation of what she would say or do next.

  “Julia de Vigneron, step forward,” she commanded.

  Out came the young noblewoman, looking dignified and stoic as walked out from among the throng of courtiers. Her hands clasped together in front of her, she stood next to her father, who watched warily.

  “I am here, Your Imperial Majesty,” Julia said.

  “By rights, the Duchy of Chavol should return to the crown at this moment,” Marie pointed out. “However, if you swear your loyalty to me here and now, I will allow you to retain your birthright and rule in my name.”

  Julia dropped to one knee, kneeling before the Empress. “I remember what my father forgot; that it is the rightful place of the Duke of Chavol to serve the imperial throne of Olica. I will accept your offer gladly.”

  Duke Julien scowled at the sight of his daughter kneeling before Marie Blachard. “Enough of this rehearsed farce!” he yelled, shaking himself free of the guards and staggering forward in his chains. “It is not a woman’s place to sit on the throne! Nor is it the place of elves to live among us!” He turned and spat at Briana’s feet, his scowl growing fiercer by the second.

  The court sat in stunned silence, waiting for a response. The Empress calmly walked back to her throne and sat herself in it as if she were preparing for an afternoon snack.

  “You say that, yet I can’t help but notice,” Marie said, casually leaning back in her throne, “that I am sitting here, while you are held in chains.” She gestured to the guards, adding, “take him away. Duchess Julia, I shall release him to your custody on the morrow.”

  “I await the moment with pride, Your Imperial Majesty,” Julia replied, climbing to her feet. The guards took the former Duke back out the way he came in as the new Duchess receded back into the crowd, but not before making eye contact with Raea and smiling at her.

  The girl from Carsani groaned in annoyance.

  ***

  “You look marvelous!” Julia exclaimed, smiling at Raea with her hands clasped together.

  “Why the hell is she here?” Raea asked, looking over her shoulder at the new arrivals to her chambers as a pair of maids pulled the fresh made set of leather armor onto her.

  “Because she asked if she could be here and I saw no reason to deny her request,” Empress Marie answered. “I have to say,” she added, examining the armor herself, “this is a more fitting look for you than those dresses. You look less like you want to tear everyone apart.”

  “It is so…unladylike though,” Briana commented, staring at Raea.

  Cian stepped past the elf, holding a short sword that looked almost like a dagger in his massive hands. “For good reason,” he told Briana. “They are a Varathian’s arms.” He put the weapon in its scabbard and strapped it around Raea’s wast, letting the blade rest against the girl’s left hip. Her new outfit complete, Cian and the maids stepped away from Raea, letting her have an uninterrupted view of herself in the mirror.

  “What do you think of it, kid?” Cian asked. “That’s what really matters.”

  Raea studied herself in the mirror, turning one part of her body and then another, examining herself from as many different angles as she could find.

  “It feels…right, somehow,” she commented. “I can’t think of another way to explain it.” Watching herself in the mirror, she reached for the handle of her sword and drew it, the blade sliding out of its scabbard bringing a satisfied smile to Raea’s face. That smile flipped upside down once she saw the weapon sitting in her hand.

  Duchess Julia stifled her laughter as she brought her hand up to cover her grinning face. “It’s so tiny!” she exclaimed.

  The sword was indeed tiny, not quite enough to call it a dagger, but it was smaller than any sword that Raea had ever seen before. She swung it in the air, feeling the weight of it, or the lack thereof, in her hand. “What are you trying to pull on me?” she asked Cian, looking at the Varathian through the mirror.

  “It was made according to the schematic,” he answered. “It’s tiny because you’re tiny, so just think of it as a…training set of sorts.”

  Raea stared and frowned at the blade in her hands for a moment before returning it to its sheath. “Fine, whatever,” she said.

  “Is that everything then?” Briana asked.

  “Almost,” Cian replied, holding his hand out to Marie.

  “Oh, yes, your payment,” the Empress said. “Where is Basil?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at the door. “He should be here with it by now.” As she said that the sound of the door opening could be heard in the background. “Ah, there he is,” she said, looking over her shoulder at the newly arrived Castellan.

  “Yes, I am here, as always,” Basil said, handing a purse of coins to the Varathian. “I believe that everything should be in order now.”

  Cian opened the purse and peered in at the contents. “I think we’re square,” he said as he tucked the payment into a pouch.

  “Very good,” Empress Marie replied. “Then I believe we ought to let you make your final preparations to leave.” She bowed her head to the Varathian before turning around and walking out the room, Basil and Briana following in her wake.

  “Oh,” the Empress said, stopping mid-stride and looking over her shoulder at Cian. “I assume that you will be heading north, correct?”

  “Yes,” the Varathian answered.

  “If you happen to meet with King Marcus, tell him that I’ll be coming for what’s rightfully mine,” she said.

  “Hmph,” Cian snorted. “I doubt he needs me to tell him that.”

  Marie nodded before continuing out of the room.

  “I have my own preparations to make,” Cian said once the Empress and her entourage were gone. “Meet me by the front gate when you’re ready.” He then made his way out, leaving Raea alone with the newly crowned Duchess.

  “What are you still doing here?” the girl from Carsani asked the young noblewoman.

  “I just wanted to know what you’d be doing once you finished your training,” Julia answered.

  Raea shrugged in response. “I don’t know. Haven’t really thought about it.”

  “How about you come work for me in my court?” the newly appointed Duchess offered. She took Raea hands in her own, adding, “just think what we could accomplish together, charting a new path forward for womankind.”

  “I’m not interested in that kind of thing,” Raea replied.

  “Just think about it, we can be the female version of King Marcus and Hermann,” Julia said with a bright smile. “I, the herald of a new future, you, the sword that brings it about.” She leaned closer to Raea and whispered into her ear. “We could be lovers, just like Marcus and Hermann.”

  “Not interested,” Raea reiterated, wresting her hands from Julia’s and shoving the noblewoman away from her.

  “Oh, come now,” Julia said, straightening her dress. “Those are just rumors anyway, we don’t have to do that part.” A mischievous smile appeared on her lips as she tapped the right side of her nose with her finger. “I have to say, though, you are awfully fun to tease.”

  “Just leave,” Raea commanded.

  “Very well then,” Duchess Julia, still smiling as she curtsied to Raea. She walked out of the room without a further word. Once the door was shut and Raea was alone, the girl returned her gaze to the mirror, admiring her new armor.

  ***

  “Astraea,” Briana said, falling into step next to Raea as she walked through the halls of the Bastion.

  “What do you want?” Raea asked.

  The elf looked over her shoulder, making sure that they were alone. “Listen, I know that you overheard Marie and I last night. I just want to make sure that you won’t tell anyone.”

  “I don’t care, really,” Raea responded. “It means nothing to me, so why bother mentioning it?”

  “I…see,” Briana replied. “You are a most unusual girl.”

  “So I’ve been told,” Raea commented as she opened a door, exiting out into the gardens and fountains that stood between the main gate and the keep.

  “Speaking of unusual,” Briana continued, once again checking over her shoulder for any eavesdroppers, “have you had a moon-blood yet?”

  “No,” Raea answered without a second thought.

  Briana stopped in her tracks, staring at the young girl before her. Raea stopped herself and stared back.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked

  “Are you sure you’re 14?” Briana countered.

  “As sure as I can be,” Raea answered.

  Briana shook her head, bringing a hand to her mouth as she pondered this situation. “From what I read, not having one by your age is most unusual amongst you humans, though not impossible. I wonder if there’s something else going on with you.”

  “Maybe it’s because I’m not human,” Raea offered.

  Briana opened her mouth to respond, but paused for a second, staring at the girl. “What would possibly make you come to that conclusion?” she finally asked after some hesitation.

  Raea shrugged as she resumed her path to the main gate. “It’s just something I’ve heard before,” she said as she walked away. She paid no mind to what Briana’s response may or may not have been as she left the elf behind.

  “What were you talking about with Briana?” Cian asked as Raea approached him.

  Raea shrugged in response. “Nothing worth mentioning.”

  “If you say so,” Cian replied before turning to walk through the main gates. “Let me just say before we leave,” he added, pausing mid-stride, “you’ve grown a lot since we first arrived here. I thought you were a real long shot at first, but I’ve got some real hope for you now.”

  “So you brought me with you, even though you didn’t think I had a chance?” Raea asked.

  “Don’t think too much about it,” Cian replied, resuming on the path. “It wasn’t about you personally.”

  Raea followed after the Varathian, the pair exiting out the other side of the main gates to see a trio of Imperial Guards waiting for them.

  “Sir Cian,” one of them addressed the Varathian. “Her Imperial Majesty has requested that we escort you out of the city.”

  “Has she now?” Cian questioned. He gave a few seconds thought on the idea before shrugging. “Alright then, do as you will.”

  The three guards bowed to Cian before allowing him and Raea to pass. They followed behind, two flanking out to either side of the pair while the third stayed in between them. They crossed the bridge over the river, leaving the Bastion behind.

  As they walked through Trone, heading north out of the city, Raea gradually forgot about the guards shadowing her and Cian’s steps. Instead she found herself getting used to the feeling of padded leather on her skin instead of rags and the weight of a sword on her hip.

  As she walked she held her hands out in front of her, flexing her fingers, looking at and feeling how her new gloves moved with her digits. She was so engrossed in this that she didn’t notice Cian putting a stiff arm in her path.

  She felt it before she saw it, running into it and throwing an annoyed look up at the Varathian, only to see him sniffing at the air.

  “What is it, Sir Cian?” one of the guards asked.

  “Something smells of blood,” the Varathian answered before walking off towards an alleyway. “Soldiers, I suggest you come and look at this,” he called, staring at something down the side passage.

  The Imperial Guardsmen joined the Varathian, Raea following in their footsteps. Her surprised gasp was met only by their stunned silence.

  “Is that really him?” one of the guards asked.

  “Must be,” another answered.

  Raea watched with bated breath as Cian stepped forward towards the dead body of, by all appearances, Louch the Court Mage, lying in a pool of blood.

  “This can’t be real,” the third guard commented. “I wasn’t part of the raid last night, but didn’t he kill a dozen men with nothing but a gesture?”

  “It was more than that,” Cian said, kneeling down next to the corpse. “Looks like he had his throat sliced open, then bled out,” he observed. “No signs of dragging, so he probably died right here. My guess is that he was killed by surprise, possibly by someone he trusted. Melos and his elves seem the most likely culprits then.”

  “Didn’t Melos go out of his way to protect Louch last night?” Raea questioned.

  “Yeah, he did,” Cian confirmed as he got up to his feet. “Very strange indeed.” Turning away from the mage’s corpse, he walked over to the closest guardsman. “Looks like you’ve got a more important task than escorting us now,” he said, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder. “You should head back to the Bastion to inform the Empress of this.”

  “Oh, um, yes,” the guard managed to stumble out of his mouth. “Right away, sir!” He made to salute Cian before realizing that the Varathian was not an officer. His arm hung there at shoulder height for a moment before he mechanically turned and started running back toward the palace.

  “You two should probably stay here and make sure nothing happens to the body,” Cian continued, turning to the remaining guards.

  “Oh, yes, you’re correct, sir,” one of them replied.

  “The girl and I will continue on ahead then,” Cian said, walking back out to the street.

  Raea stood still for a moment, staring at the two soldiers in silence, before moving after Cian.

  “Don’t you want to stay and figure out what happened?” she asked the Varathian as she caught up to him.

  “Not really,” Cian said.

  “Why not?” Raea pressed. “Aren’t you curious?”

  Cian sighed before answering. “Listen, in my experience, life as a Varathian means spending your time solving other people’s problems. The first lesson you’ll need to learn is how to make money from that, and the second is how to keep those problems from becoming yours.”

  “So you got your pay from the Empress,” Raea surmised. “Now you’ll wash your hands of anything else.”

  “Pretty much,” Cian confirmed.

  “Aren’t you curious, though?” Raea asked. “You saw Louch choke over a dozen men to death without even touching them. Don’t you want to figure out how he died?”

  “Don’t you want to become a Varathian?” Cian countered.

  “What?” Raea responded, surprised by the question. “Um, yeah. Of course I do.”

  “Then you should realize that the sooner we get to Artimax, the sooner that can happen,” Cian explained. “Getting too wrapped up in other people’s problems will get in the way of taking care of your own.”

  Raea nodded slowly, turning her gaze to the road in front of her. “Yeah, I think I got ya,” she said as walked in step with the Varathian.