His wrist was on fire, and hiding any sign of pain was getting more and more difficult, but it was worth it. Things would only get more complicated if I he had to worry about Talon and Nania being nearby—and with Talon gone, Nania would follow her beloved. They were in love, after all. That was how these things went. With them both safe, one could focus on doing as much good as one could and preparing for what would come next, before the Fiend did anything else. A sharp, peppermint pang of relief spread through his chest. It was the best thing he’d felt all day, making even the lengthy lecture from the healers tolerable—it was even a little refreshing to be lectured about something other than his choice to become Crown-son. The longer one spent in the Palace and Temple, the more different factions seemed to emerge, and the Healers were not pleased by their new Crown-son’s health, nor the tournament the army had insisted on holding.

“Damn Menone, damn Aradenene, strutting like they own the place,” one healer had muttered.

He had only nodded along, doing his best to keep up with the many names one had to know in the Palace. There were Forya, Lordrin, and Menone, yes. But there were also Forya’s Senior Priestess and proteges, the Chief Historian, who’d always been a rival to Forya, the Scribes, the Chief Courier who held a surprisingly influential role in the city—

Suffice to say, being King really was a difficult task. He’d hastily relied on Menone’s support, but without even the ability to read, it was clear even Menone would wish to toy with him. Do as much as you can in what little time you have. Get Nania out, quickly, before anything else, he thought.

Apparently, the Healers were a rather terrifying faction within the Palace. Once they noticed how bad the young King’s arm was, they demanded that everyone else keep his new duties light, until he recovered, even telling those who tried visiting to come back later. This left him with plenty of time to focus on his next tasks. Finding Nania’s room. It didn’t prove too difficult—many were gossiping about the rogue Priestess who’d apparently wielded Hell Magic. The Crown-son wasn’t sure what to make of that—surely she probably wasn’t also consorting with the Fiend…? She didn’t really seem the type, and it’d mess up his plans something awful if she were. This has to be resolved quickly.

Nania and Lordrin’s ‘cells’ were quite similar, it turned out. Neither had been deemed bad enough for the proper cells beneath the earth. The ones that Angran sacrifices like Talon had been kept it. Instead they were both confined to disused guest rooms, temporarily unoccupied between major festivals. Nania likely wouldn’t be pleased to realize how close she was to Lordrin, from what he’d heard—Hell, she wouldn’t be happy Lordrin was still in the same city—so it was a good thing she’d be leaving soon.

Her rooms were comfy, if small. There was a bed, there was light. There was little in the way of windows, which must have been stifling to her. When the young Crown-son entered the room, she lit up with delight. Of course she would—she had been stuck in this room for days and days, without any news of her beloved. She must have been sick with worry. Right away, she leapt off the bed and threw her body at the newcomer and—

“Ellie, you’re alright! I was so worried, you didn’t come back when Talon did and—” she stopped babbling and looked closer, brow creased with worry “—oh no, what happened? You’re all blue now, did someone do this to y—ah.” Her own face reddened when she realized just who had done this. Tentatively she stepped back, dropping me to the floor.

I rubbed my sore neck, sitting down upon the bed. Her bright green eyes continued tracking me as she sat next to me. “I—I’m alright,” I croaked. “Just, um…calm down. Healer’s orders.” I waved my scarred arm, then immediately realized my mistake as her pupils shrunk to pinpricks. Within seconds she was in my face again.

“What happened?” she hissed. “You didn’t return with Talon—he said something about Hallow Zaya? Why didn’t you come back together, he didn’t want to talk about you—and then I sensed that huge presence, and—”

My mind seemed to spin, scrambling for something to latch onto. “Talon’s—er, we were attacked. In the Deep Woods. There was…” I the young Crown-son hesitated, finally managing to gather his thoughts. Nania was clever. Telling her the truth wouldn’t be enough. Implying something was going on that she didn’t know, letting her run off to investigate and allowing a still-bitter Talon to fill in the gaps—that’d be the way to go. “Things got really complicated, Nia, I’m still not sure everything that happened,” he admitted, looking down and anxiously kicking his feet. “We were just…attacked, out of nowhere. I don’t know, it just hurt a lot and I couldn’t see and everything smelled like—like that thing, that. That rotten eggs smell. But not really rotten eggs. It was, it was the Fiendsmell, like in those stories—?”

“The—” her eyes darted again to the burn mark. She swallowed. “I believe you.”

“You—do?”

“What else could cause that? Either the Fiend or one of her dragons. So, Hallow Zaya saved you?” Even though her friend sat before her, alive and well, her leaf-green eyes were still filled with worry. As though, when next she reached out to touch me, the image would break apart like an early-morning fog.

“Uh, well, I don’t really remember—”

“I think I can guess how the fight went. Tell me about Hallow Zaya. How does she fit in? Did Crown Naruune send her?”

“Wish I could say she rode in on a chariot drawn by hedgehogs and did something goddess-like. I just…woke up in her abode. She’s very. Tree-like. Dark skin and her hair’s green. But the Fiend seemed very fire-like too I think. Guess it’s a God thing? Would Crown Arcturus look—”

Gradually, Nania teased a story out from him. Elian had awoken in Hallow Zaya’s abode, and quarreled with Talon. His friend had been very agitated, for reasons he avoided speculating about, and left soon after, without ensuring Elian was alright. Elian later trailed after him, and an unidentified Crown helped Elian to take the throne—but Talon was agitated by the energy he sensed, claiming the Sun Fiend was nearby, attacking Elian before escaping on his own.

“He can take care of himself, we both know that. Physically, anyway. He was doing it long before either of us met him,” Elian said. “But he’s…he’s been bad. Ever since the Harvest Festival, he’s been in a bad way. Really aggressive. Haven’t seen him that agitated since…uh, it’s been a while. He’d been a lot calmer, recently. A few years ago, I don’t think I could’ve taken him to the Harvest Festival without him punching someone.”

As expected, Nania didn’t laugh at the joke. Her expression was grim. Slowly she nodded. “Okay,” she said, digesting the information. “Okay.” Her hands had been unusually still this whole discussion—a testament to her concentration. It might have made Elian nervous, but it made sense she’d cling to any scrap of news about Talon. “Now, what aren’t you telling me, Ellie?”

Well, that was a little more straightforward than expected. But she was doubting—that was good. She was clever. She sensed something was wrong with the story.

“That’s all I know. Like I said, it’s—a lot of it’s really just a blur. Sometimes it’s like that, after battles.”

“You’re hiding something. I believe that you don’t remember those things—but usually you’d talk for half the day about the things you think are likely, even if you don’t know for certain,” she said.

“Ah…guess my mind’s just been occupied lately. There’s…being the new Crown-son and all. A lot of new responsibilities, and not everyone’s been liking my decrees… There’s a lot.”

Her green eyes bored into him. Big, hazel eyes gazed back. Just as her head dipped forward in seeming challenge, however, she blew some wispy red hair out of her eyes, then tipped her head back, surprising him with a laugh. He blinked. Did she not believe him—?

“Of course, that makes sense. You don’t even know how to read, do you?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye. “I suppose you would need an awful lot of help. As well as a new Head Priestess. You can hardly trust Forya with it.”

Again, I he blinked. This was…

“Tha—that’s not necessary.”

“What do you mean, not necessary? I’d try to talk you out of it, but you’re too stubborn by half, Ellie. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to talk you out of anything,” she argued.

“But—you don’t want to be Head Priestess. You hated being Head Priestess—even being a Priestess-Candidate! You wanted to leave—with Talon.”

“I wanted to leave with all three of you,” she said slowly, carefully. She rose from the bed, stretching out her slender figure, taking a few steps and then turning back around to face me. The sunlight caught her hair, making it look like the Fiend’s fire. “Listen, Elian. I know how much I talked about hating it here—and I still don’t like this city. It tried to kill my friend. It assumes I love it more than anything, and won’t give me a choice but to serve—my own parents and yours didn’t even give us a choice.”

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“I wanted to join the army—”

“But you didn’t really have a choice, did you?” She gave me a sad, twisted little thing of a smile, eyebrows tilting up almost sympathetically. “Listen. I did not want to be Lordrin’s Head Priestess, but I was willing to do it if it meant you two would be safe. But I like you, Elian. I need you to get it through your thick skull. I want to be your Head Priestess. Your Head Priestess. Because I think you’ll be a good King of Gresha. You’re the best person I know, and now—now, maybe you can finally fulfill your dream. If you can’t do it now, you never will.”

She strode across the room, until she was framed in the sunlit window. “Do you remember when we were little, and we’d talk? The way all the Priestesses spoke about serving and protecting Gresha City—it all felt so fake. But you didn’t want to protect a city, you wanted to protect people. I could believe you’d want to protect me—and Talon. It—it would be nice if we could make this a place where he could be happy, too, wouldn’t it?”

“He wouldn’t be happy here, even if the city did accept Angra,” I said immediately. “He doesn’t like cities, or people. He likes us—but he comes and goes as he pleases. Always has.”

She said nothing, still facing the window. Somehow I knew her eyes were fixed on the distant view of the Deep Woods. “Okay, I suppose I was letting my thoughts get away from me there. He’d never really be happy, stuck here. But it would be nice for it to be safe enough for him to visit. He enjoyed the Harvest Festival, up until…”

“He liked the Harvest Festival because he liked being with you,” I said, gently. “He needs you right now.”

They’d kissed at the Harvest Festival. There was no way they wouldn’t choose each other. It was how all the songs always went.

Nania turned back around, facing me. “I know. And we’ll go talk to him and make it right. But you need me too, don’t you?”

Oh. Is that what this was? Pity? “I’ll be fine here, Nia. Promise.”

She laughed again. “You were just complaining about how hard it was. You can’t even read.”

“I—I can learn.”

“While learning everything else? Not to mention—” she quickly felt silent, giving me a meaningful look. Then she spoke again, her voice scarcely higher than the whisper of the sea breeze. “You’re…they’re going to expect an heir from you, too. And heir from your Head Priestess—and soon because you’re not a proper Crown-son—yes, I know, patronage of the Crowns, first in a hundred years, but…” Her mouth twisted. My stomach twisted with it. “You weren’t precisely born a son. And if someone else becomes Head Priestess—they’ll know. And if the old—if Lordrin is still around, they could…”

My head was spinning. Briefly, I was glad I had remained seated on the bed, as my gaze drifted to the star-runes inscribed on the brick walls, carefully counting the marks. There had been so much today—I was honestly lucky my parents had threatened me with that, had backed down when I brought up the Crowns, when Menone had supported me.

But Menone wasn’t here now, and Nania wasn’t trying to make me step down—she was trying to keep me near. But it was dangerous. I still didn’t know why I was allowed to be King, why the Sun Fiend would do such a thing. Maybe she hoped I’d create a power vacuum, if I couldn’t create an heir? No, no, I didn’t need to worry about this—Menone and I discussed this, he wanted more heirs from the military. But then, what if he picked someone who resumed the war with the Angrans again? Would I have to work around my one ally, too?

My mind was so consumed with thoughts that I nearly missed Nania’s question. “What’s been done with Lordrin, anyways?”

This was an opportunity.

“He’s going to teach me to become a King.”

That caused Nania’s smile to crumble to ashes. “Wh—you haven’t even banished him?”

“You said it yourself. I don’t know the first thing about being a King. I don’t even know how to read.” I The young Crown-son took a deep breath. “He does.”

“He’s horrible. He was going to kill Talon, you know?” The line of her mouth twisted further. Just barely her lips parted, revealing neat, white teeth. “He was going to—you know how he treated me. Why he wanted me. He liked me scared. I came to you terrified. Of him—for you two.”

“But he was raised a King. He knows how to rule,” he argued. When Nania opened her mouth, he cut her off. “Yes, you’ve volunteered to help. But don’t forget, I was helping you cut your classes. You don’t know the first thing about being a King, let alone a Head Priestess! You can teach me to read, but what can you teach me about—about adding things, or about foreign diplomacy, or—or—?”

“You never needed those things before,” she snapped. “You want to know what he’ll teach you, if you go to him? He’ll teach you all about how to take, and take, and take, and call it necessary. Call it something he deserves. And then—” she choked, but pressed on. “When he finds out what you are, he’ll take you too!”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

He bit the inside of his cheek. “He’s welcome to try. But I beat him once before. Whatever you think of this, my mind is made up, Nania. You said yourself, you know how stubborn I am.”

“You’re as bad at Talon.” Tears were beginning to well up in the corners of her eyes, as she frantically chewed her lower lip. Her fingers were balling up her Priestess’ garments, creasing the linen fabric. Her fidgeting had returned. Awkwardly, she paced about the room for a moment. He let her. Then she turned back to him, her face grown red and blotchy.

“You’re awful. And an awful liar. I—I know you’re being awful on purpose, you want me to leave.” She took a deep breath. “But I’m not going to do that. Because—because if I’m not your Head Priestess, then you don’t tell me what to do!” Childishly she stuck out her tongue. “I’m not leaving, until you make me!” She quickly turned and fled from the room.

The young Crown-son rose and went to attend to his other duties, the picture of stolid Crown Naruune in his composure I felt ill. I remained in the unoccupied guest room for some time. It would have been wise to use that time to consider how best to split my time between ruling as king and learning to properly perform my duties. Even deciding who an ideal Head Priestess and heir would be, and how to get them in such a position. I should really be familiarizing myself with the members of my court, determining which ones were trustworthy.

Instead my mind was stuck in a whirlpool. Talon. Parents. The taste of the muddy Ter Water. The scent of heat and rotten eggs. Fiend. Crown. Crown-son, Lordrin, Nia, Forya.

It was all tangled up in my head, and I couldn’t un-knot it. Desiring something to do with my hands, I made my way down to the Servants’ Quarters, resolving to get to know those who were there. I found them quite busy and in need of help, but was quite quickly ushered back out. There was some sort of feast to celebrate my victory over Lordrin, you see. It wasn’t proper for a King to help his servants.

Stupid. We’re all just meat.

I drifted through the dinner, simply allowing my tongue to say what felt appropriate. It was very good at that. Menone was there, and Forya too, both seated near me. Someone maybe tried lecturing me? Something about the Rite of Sunset, about the Angran I released. It didn’t matter what any of them said, what was done was done, and neither the Head Priestess nor the Head of the Army were opposing me. Dinner ended. Drift back to room.

Nania was waiting there.

She sniffed. Her eyes were red. Apparently she still wasn’t over our argument. Typical Nania. “I’m still furious with you,” she confirmed, “but if I don’t stay in your chambers, some other Priestess is going to try it.”

“Talon won’t like that.”

“Talon isn’t here. Did you save me from Lordrin just so you could shove me off on Talon?”

“I—” My cheeks burned, despite myself. The whole room was swimming around me again. “I thought you liked Talon. You’re supposed to like each other, they always talk about…in the songs…”

Nania stopped for a moment, and sighed. “The songs aren’t exactly right, you know. They sing about when a person’s torn between love and duty. They don’t sing as much about when you only start to care about duty when it’s for someone you love—or how you can love and hate someone so, so much, or even have room enough in your heart for more than one love—” She realized she was rambling and stopped, taking a moment to fix her wild hair. “We won’t do anything. I wasn’t intending. If you were as awful to Talon as you were to me, we’ll all need to have a talk, before…before anything can really happen. Would need to talk about it anyways. But for the love of the Crowns, Ellie—I’m not going to let someone else just take you when you don’t want it. It’s why you joined the army in the first place, right? You…wouldn’t need to marry. Not for years, at least.”

“That or die old and boring with kids,” I mumbled.

She huffed the ghost of a laugh. “Know you, I doubt you could ever be boring.” Then she stepped a little closer, peering through the shadows of the hall. “Hell—Ellie, are you alright? You look sick. Is it your arm?”

I raised it up, then let it flop down again. It was actually quite numb—the Healers had done a rather good job with it. “Think I just had too much to eat,” I said, despite the fact I hadn’t been very hungry. “Think I’m—think I might—” I burped.

“Ew, Ellie. Alright, bed time.” Gently she took my unscarred arm, and dragged me towards my room. I had scarcely taken a few steps inside when I fell to my knees with a groan. My whole body felt hot, sweat pouring down the back of my neck. Nia was saying something, but she sounded so distant. The whole world narrowed to a point of pain, centered in my stomach. I retched, then again. And then I vomited.

Awareness slowly returned to me, as Nia bent over the mess I’d made. The moonlight made her face look so pale.

“Did—did they serve berry jam for dinner?” she asked dumbly.

In the puddle I’d made was a shade of red, darker than her hair.