The carriage rattled and shook as it hurried over the uneven road. A particularly large object or hole caused it to tilt heavily to one side. Felit?a reached out to help stabilise Mikranasta, who pulled away.

  “Are you all right?” Anita asked.

  “I will be fine,” Mikranasta said.

  “I apologise for the bumpy ride,” Anita said.

  “Again, I will be fine,” Mikranasta said.

  “We’ll be there soon,” Anita continued.

  Although the carriage was designed to seat four people comfortably, the designer had not considered Isyar in that calculation. Mikranasta was forced to stand—squat, rather—by the cabin door, unable to sit because of her wings.

  Felit?a sat close to Mikranasta, with Sinit?a beside her and Anita across from them. It had been a bumpy ride, partly because they were in a bit of a hurry, and partly because Quorge’s roads were just not well cleared in the winter.

  They were running a little late because Mikranasta and, particularly, Hedromornasta had objected to wearing the clothes Anita had prepared for them. Except for the colour, they were almost perfect copies of the thin gowns the Isyar usually wore, and Jorvan and Feviona had had no objection, but Mikranasta and Hedromornasta had objected. It hadn’t really bothered Felit?a, especially since most of them wouldn’t even be going inside the cathedral, but Anita had been rather insistent. Felit?a told Anita to let it go, but at the last moment, Mikranasta suddenly changed her mind and agreed, telling Hedromornasta in no uncertain terms he had no choice. They then had to wait for them both to change and for Hedromornasta to fly ahead to the cathedral.

  Sinit?a muttered something.

  “What was that?” Felit?a asked.

  Sinit?a looked at her in surprise, like she hadn’t realised Felit?a was even there. “Huh? Oh, I’m just practising my speech. Sorry.”

  “No problem.” Felit?a had been asked to give a speech at the memorial as well, which she’d wanted to turn down, but she’d accepted anyway just to be polite. Unfortunately, she still had no idea what she was going to say. Was there anything good she could say about her mother? Nothing she’d ever experienced, though Zandrue claimed her mother had started being a little more friendly and cordial towards the end.

  That might be something to talk about if she’d bothered to ask Zandrue for more details. But Zandrue hadn’t been available. Despite her promise, Zandrue had fallen back into her despair, refusing to talk to people and not continuing her investigations. She also refused to come to the memorial. Well, refused wasn’t exactly the right word. Zandrue hadn’t actually said anything about the memorial; she simply wouldn’t get dressed for it, and when servants came to help, she took off somewhere.

  Felit?a wasn’t surprised. Whatever was wrong with Zandrue was serious. Felit?a had no doubt Zandrue had meant it when she’d made the promise. She just didn’t have the strength to keep it.

  Thinking about that made Felit?a choose not to reach out to help Mikranasta when the carriage lurched again. Not that Mikranasta wanted help, but Felit?a wouldn’t have given it if she did. The talk with Mikranasta had not gone well.

  “Maybe in two weeks,” Mikranasta had said.

  “Two weeks? Zandrue needs help now.”

  “I will examine her.”

  “She refuses to let you.”

  “Then that is her problem, not mine or yours. You are not ready.”

  “But I—”

  “Just because you are learning to keep others out does not mean you can keep yourself in. The answer is no, and I will not reconsider for at least two weeks. Do not ask again before then.”

  Not for the first time, Felit?a had considered—and was considering again now—letting Mikranasta enact her threat and leave. Maybe what was needed was to be thrown into the thick of things where she was forced to figure things out herself. That’s what she’d been doing her whole life. Why change now?

  Because there was an actual danger of her hurting other people.

  Felit?a sighed. What the hell was she supposed to do? She couldn’t make Zandrue wait another two weeks.

  Sinit?a placed a hand on Felit?a’s leg. “I miss them too.”

  “Oh, I was…” I wasn’t thinking about them, she almost said. Instead, she just smiled at Sinit?a. “Thanks.”

  The carriage finally came to a stop and, a moment later, a servant opened the door. Mikranasta practically stumbled out, but quickly regained her composure. Anita was next. Then, Felit?a offered Sinit?a her hand, and they both exited the carriage together.

  Wet snow fell on them, so they moved quickly for the shelter of the cathedral entrance, while servants raised umbrellas over them.

  Sinit?a made a soft screech as they hurried along. When they reached cover, she said, “I hope my hair’s okay.”

  “It’s fine,” Felit?a said.

  Sinit?a’s hair was tied up in a tapered bun. There was nothing particularly fancy about it, as it would soon be covered by a chaperon. Even if the sleet ruined it, no one would know.

  Felit?a’s own hair was tied up similarly. Indeed, both she and Sinit?a were dressed almost identically in vibrant violet gowns with wide skirts and bodices lower than Felit?a was entirely comfortable with. But the gowns had been made to Anita’s specifications, so Felit?a had gone along with it. Anita was her host after all. The gowns were embroidered with paler purple floral patterns, and the ends of the skirts and sleeves were frilled.

  Completing the ensemble were tall magenta chaperons—too tall to have worn in the carriage—that two handmaids waiting just inside the cathedral doors held. Once Felit?a and Sinit?a were inside, the handmaids would place the chaperons on their heads and tie them in place.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  To the left of the doors stood Feviona—in a pale purple version of the uniform she usually wore—Jorvan, and Hedromornasta. Sinit?a approached Feviona and put her arms around the Isyar’s neck, while Feviona wrapped her wings around Sinit?a. The two of them stood there for several moments. It was hard to tell exactly what they were doing because Feviona’s wings obscured it. Surely they weren’t kissing? Felit?a strained to look around. No, just touching foreheads.

  Eventually, Feviona unwrapped her wings and Sinit?a stepped back. She then approached Jorvan and the two of them did the same. Hedromornasta stepped to the side, a disgusted look on his face.

  When Sinit?a and Jorvan separated, Felit?a smiled at him and Feviona. “Thank you for coming.”

  “We would not miss it,” Jorvan said, while Sinit?a signed Felit?a’s words for Feviona. “We will remain here for the entire memorial.” He glanced at Hedromornasta. “I will ensure Hedromornasta does not leave.”

  “Unnecessary,” Mikranasta said. “He will remain.”

  “Thank you as well,” Felit?a said to Mikranasta. “Are you sure you’re all right coming in?”

  “There is no other choice.”

  Felit?a wasn’t entirely convinced that was true. She was certain Mikranasta was powerful enough to maintain the shield from the doors. However, she accepted that it would be harder and probably more draining. “As you wish. Thank you again.”

  Sinit?a took Felit?a’s hand and squeezed it. Together, they entered the cathedral. The two handmaids came straight up to them and placed their chaperons on their heads.

  “You look beautiful,” Felit?a said. “A lot like Mother.” She wasn’t sure that was strictly true, or even if Sinit?a would see it as a compliment, but it was the only thing she could think of to say. Really, the chaperon was the main point of similarity. Chaperons were not really in style these days—so Anita had said; Felit?a was not really an expert on style—but their mother had frequently worn them, so wearing one now was appropriate in memory of her.

  Sinit?a smiled sadly. “Thanks. You look really beautiful too.”

  “Ready?” Anita said.

  Felit?a gave Sinit?a’s hand a squeeze and nodded.

  Nin-Akna walked up beside Anita. Dressed in a replica of her original Youth Guard uniform and armour—apparently it wasn’t a perfect replica as they had had to substitute some of the materials, but it was close enough—and carrying a long spear decorated with purple feathers, she smiled at Felit?a and Sinit?a. She then banged the end of the spear on the floor. “Positions!”

  Servants opened the doors to the nave and several soldiers marched around Felit?a, Sinit?a, and Anita into the nave. Anita and Nin-Akna followed them. Then a few more soldiers went before Felit?a and Sinit?a walked in, hand-in-hand. Behind them, two more soldiers followed.

  The church was not particularly full, though it certainly wasn’t empty. Most people were congregated towards the front of the nave, but a few people sat farther back. Amongst those at the back, Felit?a spotted Eti?nne and Miana, two of the very few non-Foliths present.

  Felit?a had wanted to open the memorial up to anyone who wanted to attend, but Father Bandren had insisted that the church could never hold that many and thus the memorial would have to be limited to only nobles and their servants, and people personally invited by a noble, such as Felit?a or Sinit?a. And so it was almost entirely Foliths in here, since those servants they were allowed to bring mostly had to wait outside.

  They proceeded slowly up the aisle of the nave to music playing from the pipe organ. As they went, the soldiers periodically stopped and took up honour guard positions along the aisle. At the front of the nave, at the bottom of the steps to the chancel were several small shrines. The central one, right at the end of the aisle, contained a portrait of King Wavon and Queen Annai. They looked like Felit?a remembered them as a child—her father at any rate. Her childhood memories of her mother were not very distinct—not of her mother’s appearance anyway.

  The shrines to either side of the central one each contained a charcoal portrait of one of Felit?a’s siblings: Garet to the right, Pastrin to his right, and Thilin at the far right. To the left was Gabriella and then Annai. Sinit?a had drawn the charcoal portraits. She had wanted to paint them all, including their mother and father, but there simply hadn’t been time. So they had gone with the older painting Anita’s family happened to have and Sinit?a had compromised with drawings of the princes and princesses.

  When they reached the front, Anita and Nin-Akna turned into the front row of pews, Anita briefly touching hands with her mother, Siba, in the second row. On the left side, Meleng stood at the edge of the front row, his eyes glued on Sinit?a.

  Felit?a and Sinit?a followed Anita, with Sinit?a at the edge of the aisle, close enough to touch hands with Meleng, which Felit?a was pretty certain she saw them do.

  Felit?a smiled. She was happy for both of them. It was a relationship she hadn’t expected, but the two of them seemed thoroughly in love, and in times like these, everyone needed something like that in their life. Indeed, she felt a slight tinge of jealousy that she didn’t have someone like that. Her thoughts went briefly to Maneshka, but Maneshka was so far away. Even if they ever saw each other again, could they ever have a real, lasting relationship?

  As the organ music stopped, Bandren motioned for people to sit and almost everyone did. Stools had been provided for Mikranasta, but she remained standing. Nin-Akna also remained standing in her role as Anita’s honour guard.

  The service was...fine? At least half an hour had to have passed when Felit?a realised she couldn’t remember much of what had happened. Bandren had said a lot, presumably about the Royal Family, but she hadn’t been paying much attention. She had amused herself instead, by surreptitiously watching Sinit?a and Meleng exchanging glances they presumably thought no one else noticed.

  She tried to focus on the matter at hand. This was supposed to be a time of mourning, not amusement at young love. But the truth was, she still hadn’t really come to terms with her own feelings about it all.

  She had finally gotten together with Sinit?a last night, and the two of them had talked and commiserated with each other, but Sinit?a had done most of the mourning. Felit?a had shed a few tears, but mostly in sympathy with Sinit?a.

  It was, nonetheless, an enlightening time together. Sinit?a had grown so much in the time since Scovese—though that growth had undoubtedly started on Scovese. She was not the na?ve girl she had once been, and the speech she was soon to give made that clear. Felit?a had helped her a little with the speech, but Sinit?a had already prepared most of it with help from Meleng and Eti?nne.

  At long last, Bandren called on Sinit?a to approach and say a few words about her family.

  Sinit?a rose and made her way slowly between the portraits of their parents and Garet, up the steps to the chancel, and over to the podium. She looked out over the nave, her gaze moving from one side to the other, but ultimately landing on Meleng. She cleared her throat and began to speak.

  “I’m supposed to talk to you about how much I loved my family. And I did. A lot. Daddy—I mean, Father—was always so nice. I used to rest my head in his lap and talk to him about all sorts of things. I used to ask questions. Lots of questions. I like asking questions because it helps me learn things. I don’t think he understood that because he usually didn’t answer them. Instead, he talked to me about other things he said I would find more interesting. But he at least listened to the questions. Then there was Mother. Mommy loved me in her own way, and like I said, I loved her too. But I don’t want to pretend she was perfect. Neither was Daddy or my brothers and sisters. I loved them, but they weren’t perfect, and my friend Eti?nne says it’s important to acknowledge the flaws of even the people you love. My mother could be really mean to you if you weren’t a Folith, or if you were my sister Felit?a. Sorry, Felit?a.”

  “It’s all right,” Felit?a said. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I know,” Sinit?a said, “but I wanted to say it anyway. You were the one who first taught me to stand up to her. Without you and my friend Eti?nne and Jorvanultumn and Fevionawishtensen, and especially my beloved Melly—I mean Meleng—I wouldn’t be who I am today. Thank you. But to turn this back to my family, I wanted to talk a little about Thilin. He was the closest to me in age and we used to…” She raised her head slightly, looking towards the back of the church. “Are you all right? Do you need help?”

  That was definitely not part of her speech. Felit?a turned in the pew, but there were too many people right behind her to see what Sinit?a was reacting too. Gasps spread throughout the church as Felit?a slid to the edge of the pew to look down the aisle.

  A woman stood by the nave doors. She was pale of skin and bald—and completely naked.

  Several guards moved towards her, but they stopped.

  “Do you need help?” Sinit?a repeated. Felit?a glanced back to see that Sinit?a was holding up her hand to hold the guards back.

  Crumble.

  Oh gods, no.

  Patreon if you'd like to help support my writing.