“I hesitate to ask,” said Andiya. “But from your face, Your Majesty, we aren’t going in?”

“We are. We have no other option.” Irina huffed. “Ilyin. I forgot they owned these lands. I can never keep the minor houses straight. Why must there be so many?” She drew us closer. “I shall warn you outright that every member of House Ilyin is a two-faced bastard. If they discover our identities, I don’t know if they’d sooner help us or throw us back to the Crows. Keep your wits about both of you.”

“And what did the royal family do to them?” asked Andiya with a coy grin.

Irina scoffed in insult. “Nothing at all!”

“That didn’t sound very genuine, Your Majesty.”

“I am nothing but genuine, Andiya. We only demanded of the Ilyins what we would demand of any servant of the crown.”

“Such as?”

“Well. A few years ago, my father might have demanded their heirlooms be donated to the crown as a show of state loyalty.”

“And these heirlooms were more than sentimental.”

“Gems, mostly. Some enchanted trinkets. A pittance, in exchange for the lavish lifestyle they lead under our protection.” She cringed. “Though … I am now recalling that Lady Ilyin’s son lost an arm a few years ago in my father’s service. A skirmish with a Canavar deserter, if I remember correctly. His own fault, but he is doubtlessly still sore about the affair.”

“So they may not be bastards, and only upset at the crown.”

I flicked the bond in warning. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

“I haven’t. I want to see who your princess really is.”

“They are upset at the crown,” Irina replied haughtily. “But they were bastards well before that. And I thank you to hold your tongue, Andiya, in front of your regent. Make no mistake. We are not in the palace, but nothing has changed.”

“What shall you do if I do not hold my tongue, Your Majesty? Have Eon Kain arrest me?”

“Do not test what I will do, Andiya. Better than you have tried.”

I stepped between them. Andiya crossed her arms, glaring me down.

“Enough,” I sent.

“For now.”

“We need a cover story, Your Majesty,” I said. “Now, listen closely. I will play a mercenary-for-hire. I bought Andiya from the mercenary company in Hjorgrimm. It’s probably the only way a common Azherbali could find herself an Elemental without joining the military. Your Majesty, you’ll be a mid-born woman from the Novoski capitol. You studied at Academi Volobirsk and hired me to take you safely to the western ports, where you would sail for the university in Os Tjerjik. We joined a travelling party and then were beset on by the Crows.”

Both Irina and Andiya looked at me in mild amusement.

“How long have you had this story ready?” asked Irina.

“I’ve been putting it together since we got here. Your Majesty, your disguise just isn’t going to cut it. Anyone can that you have all the markings of money and that I don’t. If either of you have a better story, then let’s hear it.”

Irina frowned, her cheeks a bit red. “I would accept your plan, Kain,” she said bitterly, “but I am afraid I may give us away. Acting ‘common’ is not something I know how to do.”

“Mid-born, not common.”

“They are one in the same, to me.”

I realised she was right. To townspeople like Idrizi and her son, anyone with education would seem about the same. But the Titled—those of the Canavar noble houses—made their livings picking each other apart. Their world was one of comparing ranks, upbringing, and status. They would know instinctively if someone was playing at nobility, or if they’d truly been born into it. Irina actually thought mid-born was common. She’d never hold her own in a real conversation with Titled.

“Then,” I said, “you’d have to play a Titled.”

Andiya looked confused, but Irina nodded in nervous agreement. It was a gamble. If any member of House Ilyin was too familiar with our chosen house, we’d be caught. The Titled were a tight-knit group.

“House Shrike,” Irina mumbled. “The Iron Lords.”

“We can’t,” I spluttered. “They’ll throw us out. Hell, I would.”

“House what?” sent Andiya.

“Shrike. High Lords of Mount Anfang, Ryalgrad, and the surrounding lands.”

I wouldn’t call myself an expert on the noble families, but the Shrikes were infamous. They were one of the five Novoski High Houses, second only in power to Irina’s own house—the royal Volkovs. Their city, Ryalgrad, was the largest in the entire Canavar Coalition, and was known as the centre of Novosk’s wealth. But it was their iron that earned them their nickname. The mines outside Ryalgrad supplied the entire coalition with the iron they needed to repel daemons, a contract the Shrikes defended to the death. Anyone who even thought of selling iron in Canavar lands did not live to do it.

And among the common people, there were rumours. That House Shrike had bred with daemons centuries back, and were now not completely human.

“It’s the perfect disguise, Kain,” said Irina. “House Shrike are not what one would call social. The Shrikes do not accept any ball invitations, do not participate in any festivities, nor do they receive any other houses for visits. Even to the crown, House Shrike is aloof. My father received minor Shrike representatives only on a few rare occasions.” Irina straightened herself to the noblest stature she could. She deepened her voice, half-closed her lids so she was bored by our presence. “House Shrike does not find necessity in dealing with those of lesser blood.”

I had to admit, it was the best chance we had of Irina not being Irina. Few houses would have the power necessary to cover the superiority of a princess.

“Their reputation is going to be a problem,” I said. “Correct me if I’m wrong—but I thought most people outside Ryalgrad hated the Shrikes?”

“Oh, they do. As a minor house, House Ilyin doubtlessly has some grievances with their betters. I would not assume the Shrikes treat them particularly well.”

“So if they don’t let a Shrike through the door?”

“Then I threaten to burn that door to the ground.”

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*

I rapped on the heavy door of Winterwood Hall with a ram’s head knocker. Andiya stood at my side, Irina behind us with her chin high.

The door swung open to a stocky, wide-nosed man in housekeeper’s uniform. Before I could even open my mouth, he said “More victims of the Crows? Oh, look at you poor dears. Come in, come in!”

The entrance hall was outfitted in panels of rosewood, paintings of bright landscapes, and pinkish lamps shaped like glass morning glory. The manor had a comfortable feel to it, the soft evening light from the windows falling on a grand staircase of plush carpeting. By every doorway were stone statues with movable joints, just like the training dummies at the Korongorod. I caught the glimpse of a bonding tattoo at the housekeeper’s wrist, peeking just out of his sleeve. It was likely his daemon was an Animator.

“Please leave your bonded at the door,” said the housekeeper. “Lady Ilyin is taking every precaution.” He waved us to follow. “I shall introduce you. We’ve had many attacks recently. You must be cleared by Lady Ilyin.” He smiled warmly. “But not to worry. We’ve yet to turn away a guest.”

I started to follow, but Irina stood rigid.

“Kindly inform Lady Ilyin that we will not be separated from our bonded. These are dangerous days, doubly so for those of noble blood.”

The housekeeper took a long look at Irina—at her cold eyes, her stiff bearing, at the air of command that washed off her in waves. We were right. No rough coat or dishevelled hair could mask what Irina was. “Of course. Kindly wait here, honoured Titled.”

He hurried away, and Irina made a good show of looking disgusted with the decorations. Personally, I thought the manor was quite handsome. But Irina swiped a finger along one of the stone statues—something that would give most common folk heart palpitations—and made a noise of disgust. She showed me her fingertip. I couldn’t see anything.

“Can you believe the filth in here, Yulia? The savagery they accept in the minor houses. Whoever allowed such a state of decrepitude should be hung.” Her voice carried through the hall. A few servants glared at her, but kept moving. None of them would ever dare tell off a Titled. Not if they valued a back free of lashes.

The housekeeper returned quickly. “My lady will see you in her library,” he said, and ushered us down a hallway lined with lilies and family portraits. A servant handed me a folded black robe. Right. Most common people didn’t care if a bonded was uncovered, but in any proper manor, a bonded would be cloaked.

“Thank you,” I muttered to the servant. Andiya pulled up her hood up without a fight, but I felt her sharp anger up the bond. This time, it didn’t feel directed at me.

“I can hear you, Rozin,” she whispered in my mind. “How does it feel to see me this way?”

I didn’t answer her, but I left my mind open for her to see. Wrong. So many things had started to feel so wrong.

We entered a quaint library. It was a circular room, half tall windows, half curved bookcases to the high ceiling. Near the windows was a sitting area of striped sofas and tasselled pillows, the side tables covered in potted flowers. A middle-aged woman reposed in an armchair, a book open in her lap. She twinkled gently under her reading lamp, the light catching her silk lounging gown, her lavender hair, and the small jewels in her ears.

The housekeeper bowed. “I present Galina Ilyin, Lady of Winterwood Hall, Zhyla, and surrounding lands, head of House Ilyin.”

Lady Ilyin smiled warmly, and her eyes crinkled at the corners. I noticed small dots of gold embedded above her brows. The work of an Alteration bonded, as was her hair colour.

“You are most welcome here, Titled,” said Lady Ilyin’s quiet voice. “What names shall I call you?”

Irina stepped forward, her expression cold as winter wind. “You have the honour of receiving Eva Shrike of Mount Anfang, daughter of Kirilov and Hildr, fifth in succession to the High House Shrike.” She glanced briefly at me. “And her vassal, Yulia of Azherbal.”

Lady Ilyin stood, her smile unfaltering. She glided across the floor to us, her hands out for Irina to take them. Irina did not.

“You must be exhausted after such a trying journey, Lady Shrike. Come, rest with me awhile as we prepare your rooms. I am eager to hear of the events that brought you to me.”

Without losing any of her edge, Irina perched herself straight-backed on the edge of a sofa. Andiya and I stood beside her, as any guards would.

I didn’t trust Lady Ilyin’s non-reaction to the Shrike name. That family’s influence held her in a chokehold. Why was Lady Ilyin’s disposition still so welcoming?

Servants brought flutes of apple wine. Lady Ilyin waved us to take one first, then selected hers. I thought nothing of it, until Andiya spoke into my mind. “She’s showing you that the drinks are free of poison.” And so Lady Ilyin took the first sip. “Now you, as the Shrike’s vassal.”

I did as Andiya directed. Only after I drank did Irina sip her glass. I remembered Andiya was a royal guard in Kaelta. She likely tasted drinks before her queens, as I had just done.

“Our latest batch,” said Lady Ilyin. “I’m told our artisans have infused the apples with lilac, this year. We expect exceptional sales.”

Irina said nothing and sipped again.

“Ah. So … Lady Shrike, what brings you to Zhyla at this time of y—”

“I require two horses. Yulia and her bonded were wounded in a Crow attack, and so will need to be seen by a doctor. We will remain in your care as your company searches for our missing comrades. I shall provide physical descriptions for the captain of your guard.”

Lady Ilyin’s mouth parted in small surprise, and I held my breath. So much for asking nicely.

“Well …” Lady Ilyin began. “Am I to send you off with any guard? Depending on the length of your journey, I will need to find soldiers best suited to the open road.”

“When our party is found, no guard will be necessary.”

“Of course.”

“My family will compensate you for any services rendered. Including housing, quality steeds, and supplies for travel of no less than three weeks. I trust this will not be an issue.”

Lady Ilyin was a study in benevolence. “There is no need for payment. Not from you, Lady Shrike.”

Irina watched Lady Ilyin so coldly that hoarfrost seemed to cover the library. “Then none shall be sent.”

“May I ask. Why are you travelling—”

“You may not ask.”

The words were like the lash of a whip. I wanted to grab Irina and run. No one talked to Titled like this.

“Except other Titled,” Andiya sent, and I realised I’d been shouting my concerns down the bond. “Your nobility do not seem any different from ours. They do not beg. I doubt they even know how.”

Lady Ilyin smiled warmly again, even if now it felt a tad forced. “As you wish, Lady Shrike.”

*

In our provided rooms on the top floor, I collapsed into a plush four-poster bed. Even with Andiya’s magic, I was still human. I needed rest.

“Andiya, guard me,” said Irina. “I wish to speak with the search party. Kain, you are in no state to join us.”

Andiya glanced at me. “I’m pretending to wait for permission.”

“As the princess says.” And then I was alone, feeling truly safe for the first time since leaving the Korongorod. I melted into the covers, my body as heavy as lead. Every so often, I felt a small twinge as Andiya tested the limits of the bond. Daemons couldn’t get too far away from their masters before it began to hurt. Elementals normally allowed a distance of a dozen yards or so, but some winged bonded were known to have as much slack as half a league. How far could a High Order get, if it chose to flee?

More importantly: If Andiya ran, would I stop her?

I snapped my mind shut, hoping Andiya was too busy to hear that. Of course I’d stop her, I told myself. But I didn’t know if I believed that. It was harder and harder every day to pretend that Andiya was some bestial, unfeeling creature. Because if she wasn’t—then what of me? I’d bound scores of daemons in my time serving the archon. If Andiya could think, feel, then how many of them could?

You carved out his mind and left him an empty husk, Andiya said I’d done to Khalid. I hadn’t believed her then, but now I turned her words over and over in my mind.

All my life, I’d known what I’d been taught, what I had learned by way of blood and pain. That every daemon was a monster. That any semblance of humanity they showed was a ploy to prey on human kindness. That they only knew cruelty. And so we bound them, we tamed those forces of evil for our own noble goals. It wasn’t wrong to turn evil to good. That was Rozin Kain’s purpose, her way to atone for what she’d done to everyone she loved.

But now?

Now, I was lost. I was not the same person I was only a few weeks ago. Because Andiya could feel, and she felt as real as any person I’d ever met. I’d doomed a real person to a life of servitude. I’d torn her immortality away and sentenced her to die with me. As I had almost a hundred of her kind.

I had no direction anymore. Yes, at the moment I was in this mess with Irina. But after? Who was I, now? I’d been working to do good. To be good. But I could no longer believe that anything I’d done for the Canavar was right. I hadn’t become a liberator. I’d become a slaver.

A maid knocked and delivered a tray of food and a small bottle of pills. There was a note attached.

Lady Shrike has informed me you are suffering from blood loss. Please take several of these pills every day to regain your strength. I am told they were spelled for good health by a mage in Dai Fen.

Wishing you a swift recovery.

—Galina Ilyin, Lady of Winterwood Hall

I knocked back a few of the dark red pills and washed them down with a glass of wine. Sick to my stomach, I curled up in my bed and let the tears come. I had not cried in years—because for years I had not felt anything at all. Now … now it was more than I knew how to comprehend.

I dreamt of Kamala, and of Seylas’s stony rumble.

“You deserve to suffer as they do.”