My eyebrows fly up. I exhale and put a hand on my stomach.

“They betrayed us,” he exhales. “They made sure humans would never have the upper hand. That we’ll die out before we master the gift.”

I laugh, and it slowly turns to hysterical sounds. Kaytus rolls the scroll back and puts it in the box. He looks at me and there is fear in those green eyes of his. I breathe hard, thinking.

“You mean… the war? The Fae lost, but made a deal with a god for payback?”

Kaytus closes the box and looks down. His shoulders are tense and his hands veiny. “A deal was made. A magical one. Your people, they’re all in danger.”

“The whole continent is in danger! Not just Malachite. Everyone who possesses the gift - they’re all bound to die?”

“No, not exactly…” Kaytus opens the scroll once more. “The sickness, as it is stated, will develop in human genes for approximately 800 years. Which means, right now, it’s supposed to slip up - the magic is supposed to be unstable. But you’re using it just fine, so maybe it’s all a lie.”

“Can’t be. Father protected this information with his life!” I embrace myself.

“Maybe he was lied to, maybe it’s Astral’s way of manipulating him,” He puts his fingers through his hair, tugging on it hard.

“Astral sent him a letter a while back. After she received West’s body. She said ‘If you don’t manage the revolution, the secret we buried together will come out. And none of us will live to see the repercussions.’”

“So she was afraid the revolution would find the box - but it was not hidden well enough. You found it in a matter of minutes!” Kaytus growls and throws the scroll on the ground. I bite my lip.

“Maybe because I was meant to. I’m a Seagrave. Maybe it’s a bloodline thing. Nobody can see the box or sense it, except for the king and the heirs?”

“Then why didn’t Rigel find it first? Why bring the crops and mercenaries? It all feels like a big set-up. And I know, I’ve betrayed people in my time, that’s how it looks like,” he points to the pristine box.

“I possess magic.”

“Calen didn’t.”

“I don’t understand!” I lash out at the sky. A storm is coming. Clouds are darker with each passing minute.

“Okay, let’s think. It’s just paper. Let’s burn it!” He exclaims and hands it to me. “Come on, fire at it.”

“What?! Are you mad?”

“Astral and Calen are afraid the secret will come out. Then… burn it!”

I stand there, wide eyed. I clench my fists. When I feel my fingertips starting to burn, I throw a ball of flame to the scroll. It ricochets and extinguishes mid-flight.

Kaytus curses under his breath.

“Magically protected. Astral and Father would have tried it. They must have tried everything, even the most obscure Fae rituals to destroy the evidence, but it didn’t work. Nothing will work.” I say, circling around the box.

“A total extermination of magic wielders,” He looks up, then scans my face. I shake my head, kneeling. “There aren’t that many. It would still be genocide, but at least the largest part of humanity survives.”

“You’re wrong,” I whisper. His head tilts and his lips part. “It all makes too much sense to be a coincidence.”

“What are you mumbling about?” His voice is strained with worry. I look up at him, my arms crossed.

“Magic was always rare in us, yes.” I start. “Until there was a study conducted by Aquamarine Academy. They noticed a growing number of newborns with magic. They put the numbers and records into one giant curb. It’s called the magic wielder curb.”

“So?”

“I have seen it only once, back when I was studying there. And the curb, it grows with each decade. Magic is not as scarce anymore. It’s becoming common. But it was always put under the rug… by Father, by the Academy. People just came to the Academy and studied - then they left. There was no panic, no impending doom. There were just a little bit more people every year.”

“For four years Calen has been controlling the entries. He didn’t let kids from poor families go there.”

I try to link this information to something valid, but nothing comes to mind. I pace around, biting my nails. Kaytus puts his hands on his sides and blows air. We look like madmen, trying to wrap our heads around the ancient prophecy of our doom.

“The numbers will grow. As they grew in the past. It’s only a matter of time before everyone possesses magic.”

“So the ‘sickness’ outnumbers the ‘healthy’ and then, when everyone is panicked, it will strike. Nature will take its gift back.”

We stare at each other. My heart beats faster, as I stand there, in the middle of a meadow of wildflowers, the wind caressing my cheeks. Kaytus’s face is unreadable, but from what I’ve seen, he must be terrified. He cares so much for Malachite’s citizens, sorcerer or not. Doesn’t matter he doesn’t possess it, there are innocent people that do - and that is worse than being in danger yourself. I get it, I really do.

He comes up to me and puts his hands on my shoulders, looking straight into my eyes.

“You have to get the crown, hide the treaty.”

“And what? Lie to my subjects?”

“There will be panic. Maybe not everyone has magic, but those who do will be seen as a walking time bomb. There will be executions, riots, fear - Norella, people who are afraid, do unspeakable things to their own kind.”

“Yeah, look at you!” I push him away. “Your revolution cost us so many resources, so much mental strain that the royal family cannot even help its people when they need it most.”

“It is not my revolution, and we did what we thought was right! You do not get to judge me for that. Do not put the blame on the closest person.” His voice turns raspy.

I breathe out, shocked.

“I am blaming the one who made this country shake in terror while the true enemy, this prophecy, was growing!”

“Do you feel relieved to blame it on me? Does it lessen the terror of dying, Norella?” He snaps, grabbing my jaw.

I grit my teeth, but don’t try to move away. Fear of the inevitable overwhelms me. There is no time. I’ve already started losing control. The curse is already here, waiting to strike. I grab my scalp and pull my hair, looking at him, my eyes pleading. Think, think, think!

Under my feet, a deadly nightshade grows from nothing, black berries popping in place. Flowers surrounding us turn into birds. They fly off into the distance while I hyperventilate. Branches turn into snakes.

“I’ve been watching you, back at the palace. I’ve seen how hard you tried to settle things, I’ve heard how you fought,” He speaks, his grip lessening. Now it’s a gentle embrace, rather than an attack. “And no matter how much I hated you, for being royal, for having everything and doing nothing, I couldn’t deny that I regretted making you suffer. That you deserved to be given a chance to fight back.

“But you were treated like an outsider by your own family, you were alienated, you were pushed aside, when one word from your lips could have destroyed our cover. They failed you, crown princess, but this… you can’t blame others and not see the bigger picture. Because I know you would regret it as much as I regret going under August’s command.”

I throw a look of pure hatred at the scroll. All this, because of a paper. A promise made by those who weren’t capable of forgiveness. Am I so different from them? Would have I done the same if I had a chance? To offer peace to the revolution, but stab them in the back in the end? I know I would have and it disgusts me.

But there is no reason to reflect on this. Fate has already paved its way. Now I must make a decision.

“We hide this treaty, somewhere nobody will ever think of searching. We overthrow Rigel and Father, if he’s still alive. I take the crown by any means necessary, and you deal with the revolution. You make sure they do not even squeak after I’m crowned. I will… I will put everything in place. Just give me time, Kaytus.”

“Spoken like the true queen of Malachite.” He smiles, and I grow hot from shame.

I just hope there is enough time to settle the country’s civil war. If I lose control of magic sooner than everyone else, I’ll need a worthy replacement. I’ll need to train people right away. I’ll need trustworthy ones to keep the treaty secret, and to search for a cure.

----------------------------------------

We can’t trust anybody. In our quest for Malachite’s crown we must be persistent and fearless. That’s what I’ve been telling myself as we rode to Kaytus’s retreat. It was not far from the meadow of wildflowers.

First, we need to prepare ourselves. Both physically and mentally, we must be at the peak of our abilities. Kaytus slams the door open, letting me inside. We don’t trust each other wholly, but for now, it’s best we stick together. Everything else will come later, when order has been restored.

I promised the man I’d kill him, I promised it too many times for it to be real. Now it’s a thread keeping me sane enough to continue fighting. It’s a sentence engraved in my memory, keeping me afloat - promising that one day I’ll finish what I’ve started.

Kaytus doesn’t seem to care, though. Perhaps he is too sure of himself to even consider me a threat. Perhaps he is right to undermine my capacities in torture. Perhaps I’m lying to myself, promising death to someone who deserves it. Although it would go against all my beliefs, I’d still feel good to take his life away.

There’s no guilt when I’m thinking of it, just numbness. I know it would feel good, and yet, my heart beats faster when I imagine light forever leaving those bright seafoam eyes. Mystical and foreign, I never had the chance to ask him about it. Maybe one day I will.

Kaytus’s cottage has a hidden room, accessible through a hatch on the floor. It opens with a funny squeak, and inside: knives, swords, blades, potions and bombs. A whole collection of war equipment. Some of the stickers on the sides are in Fae language.

My mouth is left agape, as Kaytus grabs three small sharp knives, a thin sword that emits a spectral light, and three bottles of what I understand to be healing potions - a rarity in Malachite. Not many doctors can craft those. There are not many good physicians left at all.

In the other corner stands a mahogany wardrobe. He slams the doors open and gets a dark red blouse, with a vest on top, black pants and many many belts. He takes off his current outfit, that was filthy, sweaty and muddy from all the digging and running. I turn around, cheeks growing hot, as I concentrate on the walls, lined with objects I’ve never seen. This room smells different from the rest of his house. It smells of electricity and musk, as if magic itself lived here, in the cracks of the floor planks and walls. The candles whisper to me in dialects I do not understand, and before I’m in too deep, I pull myself out of the trance.

He throws me three smaller bottles of the same potion and one that emits a blue ghostly light. It’s round, and in the dimly lit room, it illuminates my hands. “What’s that?”

“For magic. So it doesn’t deplete too quickly,”

“You have so many things here… You could have attacked the castle and won by a long shot,” I whisper, in awe. Kaytus simply huffs.

“No. You underestimate your own forces, crown princess,”

I throw him a menacing look, blowing air in annoyance. Keep calling me by what hurts the most, spill some more salt on the wound. Kaytus in all his glory. Always mocking, permanent glow in his features, even when he’s not amused. I see this twinkle everytime he growls or threatens me.

“Why do you need magic potions?” I ask, pointing to a shelf, filled to the brim with blue spheric containers.

Kaytus straps knives to his thigh, one to the chest, leather belt struggling under the pressure. “For magicians who join our cause, of course.”

I tilt my head and grab a knife too. It’s slim, beautiful too. With red rubies on its hilt, it shouts power. I take a leather knife holder and put it around my chest, mimicking Kaytus.

Finally, he braces a leather scabbard on his back. It holds his sword vertically, convenient to carry more weapons, less convenient to crouch.

“Here you go,” He passes me a long blouse with slim pants and high socks, for the high boots.

“Do you have a whole winter collection?” I ask, amused, turning around once more and taking off my dirty clothes, replacing them with new ones. They are a tad too big for my size, but steady enough to hold. Comfortable too.

“It’s not just my home, it’s a secret base - if ever the headquarters get attacked. It’s the last retreat for the agents.”

I nod, putting the bottles of potions in a backpack. Kaytus puts the scroll in his backpack, hidden in between cloth and waterskins. He stiffens and goes up the ladder, to the kitchen. I follow suit.

“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, as he gathers food and water. He seems distressed, hurrying up.

“We return to the capital, ask the mages for help,”

“Huh? They won’t take sides. It’s not their war,” I say, bemused. “There’s no point.”

The man throws me a dangerous look and continues to put dried fish in rags.

“We must try. Without an attack force we can’t enter the castle unharmed and get Rigel to give up the crown.”

“Can’t you bring the revolution there? Can't you lie and use them?”

“I could. But August will kill everyone there - he will kill you too.”

His voice lowers and I feel a tad out of breath. I haven’t thought about it. August is strong, resilient and vengeful. He is a creature made by hatred and betrayal. He is someone I should be afraid of. He is someone I should avoid at all cost.

“August said he’ll be back for the crown. Maybe we could infiltrate the revolution and discover when and where the attack will begin. Go to the palace undercover, and once Rigel gives up the crown publicly, I take it.”

“What about August? He’ll kill you, still.”

“You’ll protect me.” I try a different approach. I stand right in front of him, my eyes big, nearly begging for help. He looks down at me, and snarls,

“I will not fight August in person.”

I let out a tired sigh and walk up to the door, resting my forehead on the edge. “Are you afraid?”

“Of him, yes.” Kaytus does not hesitate, as he puts the backpack on his shoulder.

“Okay, no August then. No infiltrating the revolution,” I mumble, trying to think of an alternative. “We stand a chance at fighting the knights, if we try hard enough, with these potions I might incapacitate them. Sir Christian could join our cause - he let me get away that night, where I sent you the message.”

“That’s smart. But you have to contact him before we arrive in Argenis.”

“That I can’t do,” I lower my head, shaking it. “No it won’t work. He won’t kill his people, even for me.”

Kaytus stares at me and his face perks up at a distant sound. “We have to go.” I look through the window and see nothing but the trees.

“Why?”

“Revolution is coming for me, I suppose.”

He grabs my hand and we run. He throws me up on my rented horse, climbs on his and we leave. Galloping through the forest, we hear distant hoofs.

“How do you know it’s the revolution?”

“Nobody else knows of this place.” He explains. “If they’re coming it’s either because they learned I switched sides, or because they need my help. In any case, I won’t be there to find out.”

Switched sides? Is this really that simple? One order from August and years of devotion and intimate relationship is gone? Everything they fought for, every person they assassinated, every life they made difficult, together, all of this is now but a distant memory?

I stop my horse abruptly. “Wait!” He stops too, breathing hard. “We can use that. I’m telling you: the Academy will not help. They only want more power, sitting on the sides, waiting for us to kill each other. We can use the agents as manpower to go into the palace, make Rigel pass me the crown.”

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“We don’t need additional manpower, you have magic.”

“I am not infiltrating the castle, I’m walking straight in, as a rightful heir to the throne, reclaiming what is mine! The guards, servants and knights will spread the news.”

“That means demolishing people loyal to Rigel and Calen, Norella,” he says softly, knowing my next sentence very well. “Your people.”

“So be it.”

Kaytus looks around, groaning. “If your plan goes awry…”

“It could be,” I say, turning the reins. “But it’s our only chance.”

I take the leather straps off, put them into my backpack and throw it to Kaytus. With no visible weapons, I take the lace, holding the blouse together and start entangling it around my wrists.

“So you’re my prisoner,” he carefully states, putting my backpack on top of his.

“Exactly. To be delivered to the palace, so the public knows the crown is no more,” I say, my hands now tied. Kaytus nods and orders the horse to come closer. His hand moves to my shoulder. He squeezes it.

“If you sense any danger, any trick, you run,” his voice is strained, raspy. “You don’t look back. Your life is precious, do you hear me? Everyone else is expendable.”

I nod, not quite believing my ears. Such grand and selfless words for someone so… I wish I could call him selfish, but that would be a lie. Everything I want to call him is now a lie.

We ride back to the cottage, where three agents are already afoot, trying to enter the house. Kaytus whistles loudly and the agents look up. Their clothes are dirty, they seem to have traveled far.

“Good lord, Kaytus, you’re alive!” The female agent cries out, running to him. Kaytus gets off his horse, wiping his hands.

“What happened?” He asks, putting a hand on the woman’s head. She is around the same height as him, broad shoulders and strong legs, wears no apparent weapons, but I know it’s a trap. She certainly is armed to the teeth underneath the blouse and pants.

“August readied our forces to enter the Academy, first. He wanted them to join us, he threatened them, and… and… We were lucky enough to get out in time.”

I gasp.

“So you deserted your commander.” Kaytus words are a slice to their throats. The three agents do not say a word. “Is he alive?”

“Yes. He got out in time too. Some of our best died, retaliating.”

“Did you manage to get anything from it? Did you win something, or was the plan a waste of life?”

They do not respond and I know their answer. They tried what I explicitly told them to avoid.

The agents turn to me, probably remembering who I actually am.

“What is she doing here? Last we knew she was in the cell,”

“She had gotten away, I don’t know how. So, I tracked her.”

“Magic, that’s how!” One of the male agents shouts.

Kaytus ignores the exclamation and turns to me, rolling his eyes. I have to fight the urge to laugh.

“You will bring her to August?” The woman asks, but it’s more of a demand. Kaytus shakes his head.

“No, I’ll bring her back to the palace. So we can kill the Seagraves publicly.”

The agents let out a breath of relief, certainly happy to see one of the best agents still in the game. I stifled a smile, knowing the bait worked.

“We need fresh clothes and food.” One of the agents, the red haired one, speaks, turning to the cottage.

“Sure. You know where the hatch is,” Kaytus nods, throwing the metal key. “We move out in ten.”

“What about August?”

“He knows,” Kaytus lies. He gets on his horse, and once the three agents enter the cottage, he leans in closer to me.

“Happy?”

“Playing your role pretty well, spy,” I whisper.

Kaytus chuckles. “We enter, we force Rigel to surrender, we fight if we must, and hope August doesn’t show up.”

“Hope? What if he does?”

“We run, and think of another plan.”

“We cannot run forever. We have to take the crown soon.” I groan, looking at the sky. “Shit, it’s going to rain.”

“Good. If visibility is bad, we might as well enter Argenis undetected.”

“The gates are closed! I didn’t think of that.”

“Don’t worry, I got it covered.” He whispers in my ear, and pulls away as the woman agent goes out of the cottage.

The woman sneers, looking at me. Judgmental gaze over my body as her eyes settle to my tied hands. She finishes chewing a piece of bread with butter on it and swallows hard.

I try to sit still, knowing my every move is being monitored. I put myself in a defenseless position again, knowing it works best. Years of being weak and innocent, it’d be difficult to act in some other way. I glance at Kaytus, who monitors the agents too. His eyes never leave the woman, as she settles on top of her steed.

The redhead and blond agent go out of the cottage and close the wooden door behind them. One throws the key back to Kaytus. He clicks his tongue and the horse starts going towards the road, out of the forest.

“Let’s go.” Kaytus orders and the agents follow, so do I.

“Princess Norella,” The woman approaches me, her horse looking thin and weary. They must have been on the road for days. “Caught yet again, aren’t we?”

Her tone is pure mockery. I don’t take the bait and keep quiet, looking forward.

“Don’t talk with the prisoner.” Kaytus says in a raspy voice and clicks his tongue again, so his horse fastens the pace.

The woman, with strawberry blond hair strands flowing with the wind, snarls, but leaves me be. She joins the other two men, whispering something to them. They nod. I fear they might be unto us. I fear August might be omniscient at this point - the way Kaytus describes him… He is so angry. Does his intelligence surpass his lover’s? Does his hatred surpass mine?

I’m lost in thought when rain breaks out. My hair and clothes are soon soaking wet, and the horses shake their heads, trying to get the water drops off their manes.

Kaytus announces we’ll have to stop, to let their horses rest. They’re feeble and hungry. They use the animals like carriages. I throw the agents a judging look and get off my steed. I caress its silky mane with my tied hands.

We hide under the largest tree we can find. Its leaves protect the horses and their riders. Kaytus is never too far from me. He checks the surroundings, but keeps an eye on me. I shuffle from one foot to another under the heavy gazes of the revolutionaries. For once, Kaytus’s eyes are welcome. Spirits only know just how much these three hate the monarchy. Are they willing to go against August’s order, against Kaytus, just to taste the death of a monarch? We are still two hours away from Argenis. It’s so far away, and full of obstacles waiting to be conquered.

I realize I’ve been holding my pee for too long. Safe to say I am in trouble. No way they’re going to give me privacy to do something so… vulnerable. Ever since imprisonment I’ve seemingly lost all sense of modesty and pride. Alone, I could go free myself of those earthly burdens anywhere, anytime, but under the murderous gazes of agents? That I still cannot do, no matter what life throws at me.

I laugh at the image. I know it’s dumb and I know the kingdom is currently falling apart, and yet there are things that make me blush.

“Umm,” I hesitated before continuing. My mumble is deafened by the sound of heavy rain. “I need to relieve myself.”

The blonds share a look, but say nothing. Kaytus is further away from the four of us, tending to horses. He feeds them some apples he had put inside my backpack. I fight the urge to simply run behind the tree and ask Kaytus to untie my hands for the time being.

“We will not let you out of our sight,” the red head says, shaking his coat off, projecting water droplets.

I grimace, but decide not to push yet. I wait until Kaytus joins us. He looks over and wipes his hands. “It seems we’re stuck here for quite some time.” He announces in a harsh tone.

The agents huff and whistle in discontent. My fingers feel cold suddenly and a shiver passes through me. I don’t know how long I will hold my game. It seemed easy to feign being a prisoner for a ride, but now, with muddy roads and tired horses, just how much will I have to lie?

“I need to go to the toilet,” I press. Kaytus raises his eyebrows.

“And why should I know that?” He asks, throwing a confused look at the agents.

“She shall relieve herself here, perfect for someone of her status.” One speaks.

“Right in her pants, that is. Nobody is going to untie you.” The other adds.

I am left speechless. Kaytus slowly turns to me. His body hides the other three, and it’s like we’re the only ones in this gray moist forest. My eyes are pleading, asking for him to take a stand, to let me go. It’s so small, it’s nothing lethal - and yet I’ve never felt this lowly.

“You will have your revenge soon, agents of the revolution,” I chuckle, understanding that Kaytus will not help me here. “At least let me prepare for my end comfortably.”

They laugh, confused by my sudden eloquence; I used to talk this way. I used to call my knights ‘good sir’ and used beautiful words and drew pretty pictures to express my feelings. All I’m left with now is muck and hatred. So, I turn away from them and sit on the ground. It wets my bottom and I feel colder than before. Shivering and utterly alone I wait in silence. The skies are dark gray, like my favorite horse’s hide. The air smells of petrichor, like the summer days back in the royal gardens. The decomposing leaves remind me of potions we cooked back at the Academy. I stare in the distance, unable to find an anchor point.

I start to feel the earth take over my legs. I feel as if I’m being eaten alive by Nature, and in silence, I let myself doze off to the sounds of horses tapping their hooves.

I don’t know how long I’ve been out, but I feel someone sitting by my side. Their body is warm, granting my frozen limbs salvation. I feel a hand behind my back. Fingers stoke gently against my arm and stopping at my hands.

Kaytus scans my face and nods. “Go,”

I look down at my hands and notice the tie is undone. He was so quick and gentle I did not even feel it. I don’t wait any longer. I don’t look back as I trot behind a tree and finally pee.

Coming back feels like a walk to my hanging. The agents gape, tapping Kaytus and scolding him for letting me out of sight. When I sit beside him I stretch out my hands, for him to tie them. He says nothing, and he ties them, violently dragging my hands to his. His movements are harsh and meant to threaten, they scream if you budge I will kill you now but his eyes are gentle. And for a second there is a flicker of hope in me, burning so bright it could dry the whole land.

We hear the agents bicker among themselves, telling stories about their past missions, and how they cannot wait for the monarchy to finally fall, and for a new era to come. If my mouth was not tied by my own game, I would have told Kaytus about my future plans too. Riding on this wave of hope, I would tell him how I will help the poor, how I will give them houses and opportunities. About my dreams of having lots of trustworthy friends, and how I could use these friendships to build collaborations among nations, even beyond the sea. I would have told him all of this if he wasn’t who he is.

Kaytus looks at me, wet dark gray strands adorning his face. I notice it’s the color of the skies, the same forlorn tint; but I know that when the sun comes back, his hair shines with ivory and bright grays, hopeless no more, but silvery and radiant. He is beautiful, unlike anyone I have ever met. And this truth puts me in a stupor. I block my gaze on him and cannot look away.

He soon notices and without moving an inch, I know he asks me what the hell I am doing. A heat creeps up to my cheeks and I manage to breathe.

“I hate you,” I speak softly, only for him to hear. His eyebrows raise, but he is poised. As if there were no cares in the world. He seems in peace, waiting for the rain to end and for the roads to dry a bit. I wish I could share the same harmony with nature. I wish I had better control, and maybe in another life he would have taught me all about it.

But the rain stops and the agents are already on their feet. Horses have rested and eaten, and are ready to carry on. I wish I could say the same about me. I wish life was different in so many ways. I wish the rain had not blocked us here, so we could finish this quicker. I wish the rain lasted longer so I could contemplate this seafoam and silver a little more.

Kaytus announces we’re soon to arrive at Argenis borders. I hold tighter to the reins, swirling them around my tied hands. As soon as we see the gates, I’ll undo the ties that Kaytus subtly made weak and easy to untangle.

Suddenly we all stop. My spy lifts his hand up in a silent signal to stay put. He advances a bit and stops too. Kaytus returns a minute later.

“The gates are closed. I’ll get them to open, talk to the guards. You, stay here,” he points to the four of us. “You,” he points to the blond man. “You check so she doesn’t run off.”

So we wait under the cold Samhain skies. The rain might have passed but the wind and temperature have not. It’s still bone chillingly cold. I swear, I’m this close to creating a bubble of warming magic around me and my horse - so we could avoid getting sick at such a crucial time. In the distance, I hear banter. Joyful, merry banter between men. We all share curious looks, but stay put.

Kaytus returns by foot. He signals us to approach the gates. The metal gates are indeed open, but there are no guards in sight. I want to ask how, but Kaytus is already in front, advancing fast on his steed. We have no choice but to follow. Something clicks in my mind. He did say he could get out of every situation using his wit. I wish I were present to see it at least once. Because the more he does it, the more distant he becomes. Each time he turns into a mystical being with capacities I cannot understand.

Our horses gallop through empty streets. I haven’t seen the sun for hours, not even behind the clouds. I suppose it’s setting right now.

And then, when I thought it would be easy due to Kaytus’s wit, I see a handful of royal guards standing right in the middle of the main street, leading directly to the castle. I gasp and pull the reins, but they’ve already seen us. We are out in the open, so apparent and accessible. If they recognize either of us, we are most certainly done for. Fighting guards inside the castle grounds is simpler, more ethical. Fighting in the middle of the street could damage things I’ll have to recover later in my reign.

We turn around and go into the nearest thin street, on the other side, another handful of guards await us. I free my hands and stand on the saddle, jumping on the nearest balcony. I feel heavy, my clothes will wet, and it’s harder for me to pull myself up. I look back, only to see the others doing the same. Kaytus doesn’t move, though. He kicks the horse’s sides and rides straight into the guards.

The horse steps on some guards, killing them instantly, from the cracks that I hear. I continue climbing, not getting my eyes off Kaytus, who controls the horse all too well. I remember a Fae who did it, he whispered to the horse and it obeyed, as if it understood the orders. As if the Fae and horse had a connection, beyond what humans possess. Sometimes I wonder if the spy has not learned more than their language.

I climb onto the roof, nearly sliding several times. Luckily, the three agents are right on my toes, holding me whenever I lose my balance. I know better than to snarl at them now.

I hear whinnies and a shriek. From the roof, I see our horses join Kaytus’s one. It’s a sight - blood spilling from the guards. In my peripheral vision I notice a shadow, it jumps towards Kaytus and I scream his name, nearly slipping.

His horse turns around, and as if by instinct, gets up on two back legs and neighs loudly, taking a sword right into its belly. It snorts and its hoof hits the neck of the guard. The force is so raw the guard stumbles back and falls down, holding onto his throat. Kaytus screams in pain and the horse falls on top of him.

I stop breathing. The agents look bewildered.

“We have to move,” the woman speaks, pushing me forward.

“Wait no!” I cry out. “We can’t leave him!”

“If he’s alive he’ll join us,” she hisses and pushes me so hard, I stumble and fall. The other two agents share a look, but follow the woman.

She grabs me by the arm, and leads us toward the castle, towering above us, so very close. But without him by my side it won’t matter. The realization hits me like a sac of bricks. I cannot let myself depend on him, but I already do. His help is indispensable, that I cannot deny. I bite my lip, struggling not to look back and search for him.

We jump on a tree and crawl down, hanging by the branches. Once all four of us are steady on the ground, we see guards patrolling the gates to our destination.

“Where is August?” the woman asks, starting to get jumpy. Think, Norella, think.

“He’s supposed to meet us inside,” I lie, hoping they take the bait.

“Kaytus would have told us, if you hadn't left him there, Hysda!” the blond says, hiding behind a big tree.

The woman, Hysda, gnarls in annoyance. “No, something is wrong.” She looks at me.

“How did you untie yourself?” She asks, but I stay quiet. “Answer me!” She grabs me by the collar and shakes a bit.

“What do we do? We can get inside undetected, but then what? We don’t know any mission parameters.” The redhead speaks, putting a hand on Hysda’s shoulder.

“We can still turn back,” Hysda says, letting me go. I shudder at the cold air, and hug myself tight. Where are you Kaytus?

“Kaytus says it’s an upfront assault.” I finally say.

The agents look at me as if I told them the most vile, unbelievable piece of information. They deliberate between each other, purposefully avoiding me. They must think I’m preparing a trap. For instance, they are right.

A group of guards run towards the gates and shout. The gates open and a knight appears.

“What are they saying?” Hysda asks, looking at me.

“I don’t hear better than you do!” I whisper.

“You have magic.”

“I don’t. I have shackles. Ever since I was imprisoned by Rigel, I can’t use magic,” I lie. I also look quite pathetic without any weapons, nor magic. Like easy prey. Hysda opens her mouth, but a sound of someone’s bone cracking echoes through the area.

The knight screams, falling down to his knees. His body twists in unnatural angles. I keep my eyes open only in hopes of seeing a Fulminare join us. Instead, a bloody Kaytus appears from the shadows of the wall. He attacks the other guards, they don’t have time to respond, as he takes off their helmets and slices their necks in swift motions. Clean.

“Huh…” I look at the man. He moves just fine, no apparent injuries, and the blood on his clothes and face do not seem to be his.”

The doorway is open for us to enter. Hysda slowly approaches the man, sheathing her weapon.

“Thanks for the help, princess,” he chuckles, jerking his chin to the knight.

“You said you were shackled!” Hysda grabs my hair and pushes me to the ground. I yelp in pain, but Kaytus steps in, grabbing the woman’s hand before she can hit me.

“I wouldn’t do it, if I were you.” He says in the chilliest way.

“She helped us in, that is true,” the blond man says, his voice honeyed. He seems nice. However I stopped thinking of the revolution as nice ever since August's betrayal, and Father’s theoretical assassination. So, I get up, wiping the dirt away. My long shirt is nothing but dried mud and wet black hem.

“Let’s go in,” Kaytus orders and puts his hand on my lower back, guiding me in. “Cloak.”

I think I understand where this is going, so I immediately put a spell of invisibility on him and I. I leave the other agents for every guard to see. Reinforcements arrive in a matter of seconds. Kaytus and I walk hurriedly, but do not attempt to hide. We’re unseen anyway. The agents hiss for us to hide, but we ignore them.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Kaytus says, as we enter the castle through the main door. Behind us guards attack the three agents, who, overwhelmed by the royal forces, will sooner or later succumb to their injuries.

“Trust me.” I groan, fighting to keep my magic afloat.

“Let go, we’ll hide in the shadows from now on.” He pulls me in close and gets behind a marble pillar, facing the grand stairs. They lead to the office and to the chambers.

“I have to find Mother, she must know if Father is still alive, and if Rigel is in the castle at all,”

“Where else would he be?” Kaytus whispers, his hand around my waist, eyeing for any guard passing by. I breathe hard, trying to calm my nerves.

“Maybe in the dungeons, I don’t know.” I mutter. “Let’s go.”

We avoid detection, for the hundredth time in this place. The security became more thorough, that I cannot deny. Every corner is watched, but we take the servants stairs, servants hallways, which Rigel and I always thought beneath ourselves. What a waste on my part.

My brother was many things, and a coward among them. Mother may have said he has the heart to execute traitors, may have lost his mind to imprison his own sister, the rightful heir, and forget about it, but he would never face us in a duel, not without any knights on his side. He knew how to fight, but never in a true match. He wouldn’t stand a chance against those to take lives to further their cause, like I didn’t. Nobody else in my family learned how to wield a sword, or were graced by magic. It appears peace was the only option to keep the treaty hidden.

Generations of peace, stepped upon, destroyed and butchered by fear, idiotic scheming, and pride. That has to end. And it will end with us. Ironic. We both fought so hard against each other, unaware that no one was right from the very start, and both were criminals, with their own vices.

I hear the knights speak far away. One of them carefully mentions the Queen and the Regent are speaking in the throne room, that they wanted to be alone. Kaytus gives me my backpack back and hidden in the darkest corner of the hall, I put back on my leather straps and put daggers in.

I take out a blade and hold it close to my chest. Kaytus’s hand doesn’t leave mine. We turn around and head to the throne room. I slip every so often, my shoes glistening against the glass floor. Kaytus’s feet, on the contrary, are steady.

I want to ask him about his stunt - about the magic. But I’m afraid of what I might learn. I’m afraid we might echo through these empty halls, so I keep my mouth shut. Two knights stand in front of the main doors to the throne room.

The spy points to the guards, then to his knives. I shake my head, showing him their helmets. Impenetrable, they’d notice us and call for aid. I can’t waste my magic. And if I’m wrong about him, if there’s one chance he is no magic wielder, we are dead.

Kaytus smiles, a genuine smile, and grabs a knife. He watches the knight, calculating, while I grab his arm, desperately trying to stop him from making a mistake. He puts his free hand on my mouth, his fingers cold against my lips.

He mouths a don’t and grabs the second knife, with his other hand. He breathes in, barely audible, but his chest rises, and once air leaves his lungs, he throws two knives. I squeeze my eyes shut, readying my energies to stunt the knights. However, I only hear a soft moan and metal clanking on the ground.

I open my eyes to see the knives, perfectly in the only opening there is. Between the eyes, the hole is so small, a knife should have ricocheted. But the knights slide on the ground, and lay there. I gasp, putting my hands on top of my mouth.

Kaytus grabs the bloody knives, putting them back into the scabbards. He tilts his head at me, as I approach the dead knights. I don’t want to see if I recognize them.

“What’s the plan?” I ask, to be sure.

Kaytus checks behind me, and assured we are alone, speaks softly.

“You say the castle is under siege, that Rigel must give the crown to you, and promise to make it official.”

“And if he refuses?”

“Then threaten to kill him,” he states. I nod. “I’ll be waiting here. I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”

I nod again, putting my hand on the gilded doorknob. It shines, even more under the candlelight.

“You can do it.” He nods, putting his hand on my arm, squeezing it lightly. I shift away, nodding several times. Then I look up to him, putting a hand to the nearly healed scar on his cheek. It strikes me as a perfect addition to his features, as if it was always meant to be there, by my hand.

“Got you pretty good there.” I smile.