Ivy frowned at the improbable scene before her. She was laying on Mister Couch, with the governor of the city and the most notorious criminal overlord sitting across from each other at the table where she ate breakfast every morning. It didn’t make sense. What was even the purpose of this meeting? Rose had told her that Prince Virian had found out about Prince Armond’s plot to kill him. Using…her.

When she had awoken inside the Bloody Flag with her last memory of being in the palace, the last thing she had expected was for Armond to propose such a crazy idea. She had thought it had been a joke. Or maybe a hallucination. She had been recovering from passing out from blood loss after all. Maybe her head had been deprived of the precious fluid for too long. But no. Rose had been there too when she had woken up, and had assured her that the request had been genuine.

And so she had taken the request to…Prince Virian. Her face heated up at the thought of his name. Not because she was in love with him or found him attractive or anything like that, but because while recovering within the Bloody Flag she had realized that she had not even known his name. Her eyes flicked to the young man silently sitting at the dinner table before quickly shifting away. He was pretty cute, though. She had been calling him “pretty prince,” after all.

Regardless, she had expected him to reject the proposal made by Prince Armond. To her surprise, he had accepted it. Finally, she had expected neither prince to actually show up. Yet like the rest of her expectations, that one had been wrong as well.

Rose entered the main common room of their home emerging from the corridor that led to their bedrooms and gave Ivy a small smile. For some reason, her sister was being really nice to her lately. Like too nice. Ivy kept waiting for the inevitable lecture to come, but she only ever got more pampering. Maybe she should get stabbed more often. Actually, no. Forget that.

The memory of that night came back to her and she tried to block it away by shutting her eyes tight, to no avail. To the day, she had never been that scared. Not with the witch hunters nor when she had first killed a man all those years ago. She had been terrified that Rose would never know how much the older witch meant to her. That she would die knowing Rose was upset with her.

She reopened her misty eyes and sighed. The two men were still just staring at each other like crazy people. How long had it been, now?

“Ivy,” Rose said, holding a teapot over the stove just beyond the men, “would you like to join me for some tea?”

This was another one of Rose’s extra nicenesses. She had started serving Ivy. Ivy couldn’t complain, as her gut hurt every time she tried to rise from Mister Couch, but it was still a bit weird. Although this time, Rose gestured to a second table she had dragged out of her room, separate from the men. Ivy would have to rise from her comfort. She brushed her fingertips along the wound on her stomach and winced at the tenderness. Ugh.

"Yeah, sure," Ivy said, hoisting herself upright.

“Does she have to be here?” Prince Virian asked, finally speaking, though his first words left much to be desired.

“This is Rose’s home,” Ivy said, “if you don’t like it, you can get out.”

“Yes,” he said, eying Ivy, “I’ve been meaning to ask. Why here?”

“Mainly so I don't have to move much to stop you two from attacking each other. Is there a problem?”

He stayed silent, and Rose placed the kettle atop the stove and walked over to the table. She leaned in close to Prince Virian and whispered something in his ear. The Prince frowned, but nodded. What the hell was that? Ivy shot Rose a glare, but the older woman must have missed it. Or chose to disregard it.

“Fine,” Prince Virian said, “I’ll start—"

"Just a moment, boys," Rose said, "Ivy, dear, come here."

Ivy groaned, and the rumble of her diaphragm niggled at her wound. She made her way to the second table and took a seat. Rose joined her, sitting opposite of her, and lowered her voice.

"Don't panic," she said, and already Ivy's heartbeat quickened. What now? "I meant to tell you earlier, but there was already so much."

"What is it?"

Rose took a deep breath and reached her hands across the table. Without any more prompting, Ivy did the same, grasping both of Rose's.

"The men know about us," Rose said.

Well of course they did, they were right here, inside her and Rose's home. What did—

"No," Rose said, "they know what we are."

Ivy's hands clamped around Rose's in a vice grip.

"What?"

Rose returned the pressure of their grip and offered up a weak smile.

"We are in no danger from them currently. Armond was in love with a witch back in his country."

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Ivy's head swung to regard the man, engrossed in some petty argument with Prince Virian that did not reach her ears. Nothing could at the moment. In love with a witch? She couldn't imagine that big old mean grandpa with a woman at all.

"Prince Virian has his old guilt about his mother, that prevents him from exposing us," Rose said.

Ivy's gaze left the Bloody Prince to study the Pretty Prince. Guilt? How could his mother's death have anything to do with him at all?

"But I have seen this so many times before," Rose went on, "we can't ever rely on them. Something always goes wrong. One way or another, they will turn on us eventually."

Rose's words forced Ivy to return her attention to her sister.

"I thought you were the optimist between us," Ivy said, "what happened to winning over the non-witches until we were accepted. It seems we have two right here."

Truthfully, the revelation had made Ivy want to tear her hand away from Rose and tighten her grip around the hilt of her dagger instead. Under no circumstances would she let herself be captured again. The only way to ensure that was...agh, no! She really, really didn't want to kill them. Especially not Prince Virian. And if they really did accept her...

"Ivy, please listen," Rose said, "it's too soon. The world is not ready to change. We have...time to build a better place for us, but not yet. You need to trust me on this."

Once again, Ivy couldn't help but be irritated by her sister's attitude. No, it was worse than that. Ivy couldn't stand it at all. Her voice became a cutting whisper.

"And how long do we wait, Rose? Thirty years? Fifty?" Rose's face didn't move. "Longer? How long do we live? Am I just supposed to let everything I know and care about wither away? I'm not like you. I don't have your patience. You must know that. I can't be you."

Rose grimaced, but her eyes weren't looking at Ivy. They were distant...detached. Rose always looked this way when she was—

"Things are worse than I thought," Rose said suddenly, her gaze returning, "listen for yourself." She pointed to the bickering men.

"You still won't give me your reasons for trying to kill me!" Virian shouted.

“I didn’t need you dead,” Prince Armond said, “just gone. Asking Ivy was the easiest way. She had not failed previously. The others, well…I thought you had killed her. And I was angry. It turns out I was just throwing men into her knife.”

This didn't sound like what Rose was getting agitated about, but it still involved Ivy.

“S-sorry,” she said, her face heating up a bit once again. She had not known all the subsequent assassins were partly to avenge her. A different kind of warmth blossomed in her chest that only gave her more reason to believe in him. It was kind of cute how Prince Armond cared for her.

Prince Armond turned to Ivy.

“I wish you would have come to me sooner,” he said.

Again, the events of that night replayed in her head and she spoke without thinking.

“What, so you could drive a dagger into me that much quicker?”

He actually recoiled a bit, flinched even. Ivy snorted. Like her words could actually wound him. She had given him tons of grief already despite knowing her own mistakes that night, and he had never reacted this way.

“Iveriani,” he said continuing to use her real name. Although perhaps it was fair as she had started thinking of him as “Armond,” and that had been their deal. “You know that I—”

“Yes, what do we know, Armond?” Prince Virian asked. “Is it alright if I call you Armond? Bloody Prince is a bit much, I think.”

Prince Armond sighed, but did not face Prince Virian.

“Are you sure you want him alive?” he asked Ivy.

She rolled her eyes.

“Yes. For now, at least.” Her mind went to the fact that they knew about her. That they knew she knew that they knew. Rose's warning echoed in her head. They wouldn't betray her, right?

“I pray for the day that changes.” It wouldn't. It couldn't. She told herself over and over until—

“Armond!” Prince Virian shouted. “Why don't you tell us how it came to you wounding Ivy?” What, now he’s suddenly more worried about her than himself? “Was it punishment for failing to kill me?”

Ivy couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. Prince Virian shifted his eyes to her.

“I didn’t fail to kill you. I decided not to.”

“And I would never do anything to intentionally upset Iveriani, much less harm her,” Prince Armond said.

“Why?” Prince Virian asked. “your organization chews up and spits out people daily. You can't tell me you care about all your minions so dearly. Who is Ivy to you?”

At this, Ivy really couldn’t hold it in. She burst into laughter, her wound throbbing with every heaving gasp. When she finally stopped, tears were running down her cheeks from both the mirth and the pain, all three of them were staring at her.

“What?” she asked. “Was it not ridiculous? I mean…Virian thinks, Armond loves me or something. Come on.” They all stayed silent.

“It's true, though,” Prince Virian said, "he treats you differently."

“How would you even know how he treats anyone?”

“I...guess I don't, but come on. You know who he is.”

Ivy thought about it for a moment and shrugged.

“He's mostly been rather tame around me," Ivy said, putting a finger up to her lips, "save for one or two times. He's a gentle giant."

Rose nearly spit out the tea she was drinking. She covered her mouth with both hands, struggling to hide her giggling.

“What?” Ivy asked.

Rose looked away.

“You guys are too funny.”

Ivy would have flown out of her chair had she not been stabbed recently.

“Rose!” Silence. “What do you know?” Nothing. Ivy brought her attention to Armond. “What about you? Am I really so precious to you?”

This was not how Ivy thought this ridiculous meeting was going to go. She was certainly friendly with Armond, but really? Ugh what the hell?

“Whatever you think about me, know this: I keep those of use to me close." Of use? That sounded a lot less sweet than before. Ivy frowned at the old man. "Moreover, She could end any of us whenever she wants and none of us could do a thing to stop her. There’s two princes in this room, but who do you think holds the most power here?"

“I will answer for you, boy. It is the young girl who spends her days lounging on her sofa, laughing at us. It is only because of her, that my plans have been advanced years ahead of schedule. Yet it is also because of her, that you still exist, and I do not rule Atrican.”

Prince Virian scowled across the table at Armond.

“So that is what this is all about? You want the city for yourself?”

“Yes.”

“You couldn’t hold whatever miserable land you had across the sea so now you come here and take what we have? Or is that rumor even true? Are you a deposed Prince of a foreign land or just a criminal usurper?”

Prince Armond leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face with both hands before letting them fall to his sides.

“What you have heard is the truth, but not all of the story. I want your city not because I was forced from my home and want to rule a new place, but because of what forced me away.”

Prince Virian narrowed his eyes and shook his head in a quick, almost vibrating motion.

“What? A group of bandits throw you out of your mudhole?”

“No,” Armond said, “it was demons.”