The next day and a half were different. Warmth had returned to Kartania in a way I couldn’t really describe. My sister talked more, and we reminisced about old adventures.

And about Abby.

My sister and I hadn’t really spoken about her since we’d reunited. She was a sort of missing presence. There, through me, in some small way, but a notable physical void. The person who’d always spoken up with an idea, always had a plan, always kept things moving.

She… those were our responsibilities now. In Abby’s absence, we cleared the road and talked about life. We even had a snowball fight, and demonic reflexes could only help so much when the other person could control your own snowballs midair. Kartania learned of the island, and of how I met Seyari. I learned of her time under strict tutors; long hours and defied expectations that got her where she was now.

And I felt a growing pit in my stomach about how she’d, at least symbolically, thrown all that aside for my sake back in Astrye. We’d already talked about that, in detail. My commitment to her, and her to changing the Church, however sunk that cost was.

But there was still an undercurrent of uneasy anticipation. An anxiety that hid a sharp edge of worry behind our fun.

And so, as we descended the stretch toward the farms on the outskirts of the city, I shifted back to my human appearance. From here on out, we could easily expect armed resistance.

Thankfully, blessedly, we didn’t, and the road was clear. Not as clear as we could make it, but anyone who walked even a little way into the forest would see our handiwork, and throwing a lot of fire around without warning seemed like a bad idea.

“King Carvalon must have had a hand in this,” I commented softly, even though there was no realistic chance of being overheard from any of the distant, sleepy farmhouses that curled smoke up from ancient chimneys.

“You and I both know he dislikes the Church. That’s not a secret.”

“Isn’t the narrative that he doesn’t trust them after the great fire?”

“Performatively. Everyone knows there’s more to it.”

I hummed in response. “So… we’re parting closer to the city?”

“As soon as the road splits.”

“Will that put you in danger?”

Kartania shrugged. “Unless they send a high priest, my capabilities will be enough to keep things… civil.”

I growled despite myself.

“Zarenna, don’t.”

“I know, but…”

“You’re worried for me. Thank you—I mean it. But this is something I need to do for myself. Your presence wouldn’t make violence less likely anyway.”

I winced. “Yeah, I know. Just…” I sighed. “We already talked about this—many times.”

Kartania nodded. “But… it does still make me nervous.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring.” I chuckled nervously, then spied a fork in the road ahead. A smaller dirt path led between fields to the other road out this way, the one that led to the old fort and pass. I suddenly felt more acutely the metal of Tania’s necklace, and reached up to brush the mother of pearl with a human finger.

“I’ll be heading that way,” Tania said.

I shook my head. “It’s a smaller road, better for an ambush. I’ll take it.”

My sister exhaled heavily. “Fine.”

I was surprised she agreed, but I’d learned not to push those things with her. “Thanks, Tania.”

“You’re welcome, Renna. Good luck, and may we meet again sooner rather than later.”

“I don’t think I could take another decade,” I admitted. “Hug?”

Kartania scanned the road ahead of us, looking between the many hiding places afforded by barns and homes and scattered windbreak groves of trees. She sighed, then barked a single laugh. “Sure, Sister.”

“Yay!” I pulled her to me, acutely missing my lower arms and tail. “Hugs aren’t as good like this, but I’m glad we reunited, Sis. Hopefully I’ll see you in the next year or so?”

Tania hugged me back, pressing her head into my side where another shoulder normally was. “Hopefully indeed.” Then she surprised me by hugging harder, and I heard her breath hitch. “Thank you, Sister. For coming back. Truly.”

“I… you’re welcome, Tania. Your big sister’s not going anywhere this time.” I ran my hand through her hair and she shivered, then relaxed.

We stayed like that for a long moment before Tania pulled away, her expression expertly schooled, but red-rimmed eyes giving much away. She smiled thinly. “Until we meet again.”

“Until we meet again,” I repeated. “Write if you can; you know where to reach me. And if you give a return location, I’ll write you back. Maybe even fly over for a visit.”

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Kartania giggled, then cut herself off. “Perhaps. But… let’s not stretch this parting out, hmm?”

“You’ve seen through my plan.”

“I have.”

“Go then.”

Kartania nodded, and turned back down the main road. “Good luck and good fortune, Sister.”

“You as well. I love you, Tania.”

“…Thanks.” I couldn’t see her face, but I heard the faint whisper of “And I, you.”

And then I turned down the connector road, walked behind a barn, and was alone with my thoughts. My feet crunched snow as I avoided the well-trodden slush—it was warmer today, just enough for a little bit of melt. Of course, that just meant more ice tomorrow. Though, my claws would stop me from slipping. And my inhuman balance and reaction time.

I kept my ears perked for any signs of a fight. Despite Kartania telling me to stay out of it, I really had no intention of not helping her. Making sure I wasn’t interfering with what she needed to do herself didn’t extend to letting her die, after all.

Even if she’d probably be mad.

Thankfully, no such sounds came, although the evening did. We’d arrived late afternoon, close to evening, and when everyone was warm inside this far out. By the time I’d made it to the city proper, it was dark, and the streets were almost empty. People gave me a wide berth, probably due to my stature.

I should have headed first toward the king’s castle, but instead I headed for the Gelles Company. A warm, free, bed called to me, and I did need to inform Arden, the Gelles Company’s Linthel branch leader, of my new status as Marchioness.

Ideally, I could keep some form of affiliation with them. The idea of all my legitimacy and backing hinging on King Carvalon didn’t sit right. Even if we shared some similar goals, we were not the same. And even though, as a noble of Edath, he had power over me, I wasn’t keen on giving myself entirely over as a subject.

Perhaps that was just the Sovereign demon in me speaking.

I continued on, through light snowfall, until I reached the Gelles Company branch. I encountered no Church forces, but then again, they might not have had time to marshal from Ordia, with all the restrictions that have been placed on their power in Linthel. Or perhaps Yevon was responsible.

And there’s another power figure I don’t trust. Truthfully, I trusted Carvalon more than Yevon. I could understand the king’s motives at least.

I brushed snow off my shoulders and cleaned my boots in the brushes by the door, and walked toward the counter. Late as it was, I was pleasantly surprised I’d made it in time, although I supposed they had to stay ready for members coming in needing beds at all hours.

The clerk, a woman I didn’t recognize, looked tired, and she blinked a couple of times at my height.

“Zarenna Miller. I’d like a room for the night, and I have something urgent I need to discuss with Branch Leader Arden. Tonight if possible.”

“Give me a moment to check our records.” She stood up and walked to a back room, and I was left alone.

I nodded, and waited. There was a standing clock in the lobby, and it ticked the seconds away while I waited. Acutely, I noticed I had no one to talk to. For so long, Seyari had always just been there, and even though this was just a temporary errand of sorts, and I could fly home to be with her before dawn, I felt a little lonely.

“Miss Miller?”

Miss. Marchioness soon. “Yes?”

“Here are keys to your room. It’s room 305, just up the stairs to the right. Branch Leader Arden will meet with you tonight, if you hurry. Do you need directions?”

“No, I know where to go. Thanks.” I took the keys and exited through a side door, walking in silence to a familiar office.

***

“I’d say I don’t believe it, but I find myself hardly surprised.” Arden sighed, leaning back in his chair. “If, however, the Church officially disputes your story surrounding High Priest Grants’s death, we’re in no position to try to shelter you against them.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Now, as to your continued position within the company? I’m afraid you’re right—you can’t be a normal member while also nobility. You can, however, support the Company financially and with manpower. As a benefactor, and an honorary, non-working member.”

I clicked my tongue in lieu of scratching at a horn. I’d, of course, slipped out of my human guise as Arden knew full well what I was. “Why is that the case, if I may ask?”

“Power dynamics. Already, as powerful and influential as you were, it was a stretch to keep you on in your position. With a real noble title behind you? It wouldn’t be fair to others competing for work, or in terms of equality of living conditions, pay, and social standing.”

“That last one in particular makes a lot of sense. Alright, then: can I at least stay here tonight? My guess is that a formal announcement will follow my visit to the king tomorrow.”

“Have you requested to see the king yet?”

“Nope.”

Arden sighed. “I’ll be honest, Marchioness Miller. You retreating to a benefactor position will be a relief to me. I won’t have to take partial responsibility for your irreverence.”

“Hey, don’t assume I can’t be just as wonderful as a noble benefactor!”

Arden glared at me, despite my countenance. “I’ve had… a long day, Mi-Marchioness Miller. Please let me have hope.”

“Fine.” I waved both my left hands. “Is that all the necessary business? I assume I’ll have things to sign in the morning, and we can talk later if I am able to spare any resources. Astrye isn’t exactly prosperous or wealthy.”

“It is, and I understand. Good night, Marchioness.”

“Good night, Branch Leader.” I stood and nodded, before sweeping my way out the door and back down the hallway toward the residential dorms.

***

One (metaphorically) cold and lonely night later, and one sad and lonely breakfast later, I found myself waiting to see the king. Getting in was simple: I walked. And talked. Human form notwithstanding, I was rather noticeable and politely persistent. Throwing around my title helped, and I was very quickly recognized and ushered inside.

Once in the vestibule, I found my thoughts drifting to Bourick and to that book Seyari wanted. Ignoring what I was about to do, I felt almost content to be on a pleasant visiting trip and running errands for my wife. Something mundane and wholesome, despite that I’d be flying home on wings of fire.

I didn’t appreciate the small room’s decorations, but I did notice that I’d certainly seen gaudier, and a painting of the castle on its hill was a pleasant enough point in space to stare at while I tried to mentally prepare for my meeting.

Ask about my title, then my responsibilities and autonomy. Marquesses and Marchionesses had greater autonomy often as they controlled border provinces. In this case, we knew hostiles in the form of Mordwell, and potentially Envy and Avarice, existed beyond the known hills.

I also made a quick mental note to ask what to call Seyari. Were we both Marchioness? Furthermore, what was our daughter, Joisse?

More than that, even, I needed to ask after staffing requirements, how I’d report in, and what would be done about the incident with High Priest Grants. Meeting other nobility was also assumed, and that was something Seyari couldn’t really teach me and Kartania knew only superficially. Astrye was distant enough to be almost its own nation: a land settled by Edathans and… I needed a term for the Lupaels who lived there as well. Being Lupael was not necessarily a prerequisite for their culture, and neither was it excluded from being Edathan.

I was still mentally kicking myself, stuck on this one point of error I could have easily avoided, when a servant told me King Carvalon was ready to receive me.

Thoughts spiraling toward a jumbled mess, I muttered an affirmative and rose, piecing things back together as best I could on the walk to a familiar throne room. Don’t screw this up, Zarenna!