The first place I checked was the sitting room where Quiraxa was staying. To my relief, she was laying calmly down across two sofas—angled so they were almost long enough for her height—drinking steaming tea and reading one of Seyari’s books.

From the way her tail-tips twitched, and the fact that she only offered me a quick glance upward without complaint or vitriol, I had a feeling she might’ve even been enjoying herself. On the way out, I ran into Shyll, smelling of strong soap, her black hair and wolf-like ears still damp.

“Don’t,” I told her, gesturing to the room. “She shouldn’t be disturbed.”

“What if she calls for something?” there was a mischievous glint in her eyes.

I do not have time for this. I hated the idea of giving in to what amounted to a threat of sabotage, but I needed things to go smoothly. If anything, I had a sneaking suspicion that Lilly would take my side over hers when inevitably we next met.

“Since you’re off for the rest of the day, you won’t need to answer her. Taava is on it.”

“That cat?” She leaned forward. “Frankly, I don’t see what you see in her.”

“I see someone who is a reliable ally despite her demeanor.”

She sucked in a breath dramatically, eyes glinting.

Before she could utter a sound, I lunged forward, two arms grabbing hers, a third sweeping her legs from under her, and the fourth clamping over her mouth. She writhed, but I was stronger and carried her far enough away I was certain we wouldn’t be heard—and old, mostly-empty storeroom. Just in case, I put up a wind ward anyway.

By now, she was feigning getting into how I was roughly carrying her, so I dropped her unceremoniously on the cold stone floor.

She bounced up and glared, her lupael guise unwavering. “You know—”

“Contact Lilly,” I told her. “We’ll need reinforcements to help defend Astrye while Seyari and I are gone.”

“Yeah, yeah, Taava told me as much.” She dusted off her dress and made to leave.

I grabbed her arm. “I know that I may seem like a pushover, Shyll. But nice does not mean spineless; you are here on Lilly’s orders for a specific job and I am damn lenient with how little oversight I give you. If I find out you damaged this chance at stopping Mordwell because of a petty feud with Utraxia’s faction, I will send an apology note to Lilly, and include your head in the box. Am I understood?”

Her defiant smile vanished when her eyes met mine. “…You’re serious.”

“I am.”

“You’re—”

“Going to let you go, because you are a trusted servant of a woman for whom I have great respect and it is through that respect that I am allowing you to walk out of here instead of chaining you up until our guest leaves.”

For a long moment, Shyll stared at me. “I understand, Sovereign. You know, you almost fit the part sometimes.”

“It might surprise you—” I chuckled darkly. “—but that’s very much on purpose. Now go enjoy your night off.”

Shyll blinked. “You’re still gonna give me the night off?”

I shrugged. “Feels unfair to punish you for something you might do. Especially since you’re not thinking about letting certain key facts slip anymore, right?”

The precocious brat actually looked a little apologetic, and I was caught off guard by her serious, curt nod. Though I didn’t fail to see a hint of a smile forming.

“You make one more cheeky comment, and I will defenestrate you through a window that does not yet exist.”

Swallowing her words, smile widening, Shyll took her leave as I dispelled my magic. Why in the heavens does Lilly think she’s trustworthy? Oh well, problem avoided. Probably.

I took a moment to straighten my own clothes before walking quickly to Paula’s room, trying and failing not to worry about Shyll. I didn’t find the mercenary there, but a servant pointed me to the courtyard. There in the snow, I found her hacking away at a practice dummy with a sword just too short to be called “long.” Her anger pulsed with each thrust, louder even than the thump-thump of metal striking old wood.

She noticed me approaching and gave a sidelong glance. “So you actually showed up.”

“Sonia and Inva told you I wanted to talk, didn’t they?”

She struck the target again with a grunt, form loose, but practiced. “Didn’t need them to tell me—and I wanted it too.”

For a moment, I stared at her, unsure of what to do as she seemingly went back to training. Her anger was still there, but surprisingly it’d calmed down.

“Grab a weapon,” Paula said without looking over at me. “And try not to break the dummy too fast—I’ve got a lot I need to get off my chest.”

I looked around and spied a small rack of well-worn training weapons under an awning. One wooden sword later, I was standing in front of a wooden training dummy trying to remember the fundamentals Sey had given me.

Paula, still practicing in her leather armor, watched me staring at the wooden weapon. “You even know how to swing it?”

Not really. “A little.”

“Then have at it.”

I stared at the well-worn dummy; I really didn’t want to be the reason it had to be replaced. “Just figuring out how much force to use, I guess.”

The experienced mercenary rolled her eyes and eased up on her stance, almost dropping her own training weapon when she tried to slide it into a sheath that wasn’t there, before walking over to me. “Here. I’ll show you.”

“Why?”

The question seemed to catch Paula off guard, and she took a moment to reply. “Need something to do with my hands. Too much on my mind. Now, turn your shoulders like this. That practice sword’s hardly bigger than a dagger for you, but we’ll make it work.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

I followed her motion, and she started to teach me how to swing. As a reminder, it was good, and she explained things well enough that soon I was swinging alongside her. Thankfully, I’d gotten at least close to human strength in mind so my blows weren’t too off-kilter from Paula’s own, even if the rhythm was off.

Slowly, but surely, it fell in line, however. How much of that was her matching me versus the other way around, I didn’t know. But I leaned into it, focusing down enough that I almost missed it when Paula started speaking.

“I joined up because I wanted to do something.” She smacked the target and cycled her breath. “Make a difference to folks who didn’t have someone in their corner.”

“Do you—”

“I’m not done.” Paula waited a little before continuing. “When I was eight my parents died—lesser demons on the road back to Lockmoth. They’d always told us we could do anything if we tried enough. My brother was old enough to make sure we kept the shop, but when I was still a kid, he went off to fight in the war.”

Her anger lit up, and she hit the target with a resounding thwack. “Didn’t come home. I had to sell the shop—didn’t know what I was doing and got screwed. The orphanage took the rest of the money, and no one wanted a teenager with an attitude.” Thwack, thwack.

“I’m not trying to give you a sob story, but all that taught me a lot. Some kids there were good kids, and all of ‘em had something bad that happened to ‘em. Some folks are good, some folks bad.” She thrust forward, hard enough to blunt the tip of her wooden blade. “Life’s not gonna give you handouts, and if you want to help the good folks, you gotta deal with the bad. I’d say you already know that, but I guess that’s my question.” She looked at the blunted tip and scoffed. “How do you figure that? The fuck do you, a demon, come from with all this idealism?

It ain’t normal for a human, so it sure as shit ain’t normal for a demon and you damn well know that.”

I probed her anger gently, misjudged my strength, and sent half the practice sword flying off into the snow and mud with a sharp, loud crack. “That’s… well, it’s complicated.”

“I walked half a damn continent to hear it, Zarenna. I’ve got time.”

Here in this open field, where anyone and everyone could overhear… Well, everyone from that past is dead except my sister, and if I didn’t name her, she’d be fine. I cast my thoughts back to a night in a desert in Navanaea.

The circumstances were different here, but there was a thread of similarity: why am I who I am. Naïve, idealistic, far far too willing to work with people I shouldn't, like King Carvalon. It brought into question again why I’d even gotten my Name and title.

Paula walked over to me while I was thinking, and, surprisingly unafraid, thrust the blunted, splintery tip of her practice sword within a few centimeters of my navel. “Spill it.”

I stared down at the wooden tip, then back up at her dark eyes, passionate and full of conviction. “I’ll tell you. Mind if I get another sword?”

She shrugged. “Hard to practice without one—I can’t imagine your claws aren’t gonna tear the dummy apart. But hurry up—I’m not a patient person and I’ve been waiting a damn long time.”

When I returned with another practice sword, I dove into my own story, revisiting the pain and finding some old memories I’d nearly forgotten. In time, our swings synced up again, her anger ebbed mostly away, and right after I’d skipped over my time on the island and was struggling to dance around how I became the Sovereign of Wrath, Paula cut in.

“I think I get it,” she said. “Your friend was too good for you, you know.”

“She was,” I replied, thinking of Abby.

“But I’d bet she didn’t think of you the same way.”

I barely stopped myself from breaking another practice sword. “Huh.”

“Just a thought, that’s all.” Thwack. “But I think I get it. You were sheltered, given big shoes to fill, and you got a hero complex. Worse coulda happened, I guess. And now look at you slaying your enemies. Make you feel better?”

“Worse.”

“Makes sense. I’m no good with all this philosophical crap, so I guess all I need to say is that your story checks out. Unless you’re somehow both the biggest lunkhead and best spouter of bullshit the world’s ever known, I think Sonia and Inva can trust you.”

“What about you?” I asked on reflex. In a lot of ways, her story seemed almost eerily similar to Vivian’s. One of many probably. But Paula was different—open in a way Vivian had never let herself be.

“Yeah, me too?” She barked a laugh. “What, you thought I wasn’t joining them? They’ve got a good, grounded idea that’ll help a ton of people who need an ally.”

“Aren’t you part of the Gelles Company?” I asked.

Paula shook her head. “Sent in my resignation in Linthel. I’ll need to figure out how to get my last pay somehow, but honestly…” She stood up and cracked her back. “It’s refreshing. There’re some good people in the company—like Firalex—but Rodrick’s a cynical ass and most of the leadership’s like that.

“I heard the head, Xavien, isn’t, but I’m not sure I believe it. Would’ve said I didn’t before, but you’re enough of a walking contradiction to make anything possible. Really, though, I guess I should thank you. When we were assigned that mission together, I was pretty down—I’d been stuck spinning my wheels for a few years and it was getting to me.”

I took her queue to stop as well and stood up out of the awkward half-crouch I’d been in in order to hit something other than the target dummy’s battered head. “You’re welcome, I guess.”

“Do me a favor and give Sonia everything she needs and more, yeah?”

“I intend to.”

“Good, ‘cause I want us to make a big damn difference in the world to everyone who falls through the cracks.” She looked up at the clouds for a long moment, then added. “Demon, or no.”

Before I could stop myself, I asked, “Do you think I did the right thing?”

“Huh?” She turned, hands on her hips, to look at me.

“When I killed High Priest Grants.”

Paula shrugged. “I dunno, wasn’t there. But, whatever you chose, I’d like to think you had a good goal in mind—maybe even did the best given the circumstances. Sorry if that’s just empty words.”

“They mean a lot coming from you,” I replied sincerely.

Paula’s eyes widened, only for a moment, before she almost sneered. “What a bleedin’ heart you are.”

“I try.”

She looked up at me. “You looked like you had somewhere to be, earlier. Walked right past me when I was setting up like I wasn’t even here.”

Oops. “Uh, yeah…”

“About the demon that walked in here?”

“Has everyone heard about that?”

Paula shrugged again. “Probably. Anyway, I’ve said my piece, you’ve said yours. We’re all square so you can get a move on.”

A move on to risk leaving her and Sonia open to an attack from Envy. Another victim of proximity. I bit my lip and nodded, before walking off hurriedly back toward the castle proper. The conversation had taken long enough that Seyari might be awake.

I paused mid-pivot. “Thanks, Paula. I needed this—and maybe we should do it again sometime.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one thanking you?” She half-smiled, probably the brightest expression I’d ever seen on her. “Anyway, sure. I need to keep in shape, and I like mornings, so you’ll know where to find me.”

I wanted to tell her about leaving and the risks and everything, but… I just couldn’t, so I waved and walked away. Taava would soon tell Paula anyway—I was a little surprised she hadn’t yet, but not that surprised. Finding the others could be taking a while, and she’s also supposed to be discreet while the courtyard’s really public. So, I did my best to swallow my guilt.

As I was almost to the door, I noticed someone, or rather somewife perched up on the castle’s roof. Knowing it’d be best to let her think I hadn’t seen, I kept my head down and walked quickly inside.

***

Up on the castle roof, there for the past hour because she couldn’t sleep, Seyari watched Zarenna walk back inside and dismissed her listening spell. When she reached up to touch her face, it came away wet. Memories of the early days of her relationship with Zarenna replayed in her mind. A warm night in a cold desert.

She hadn’t exactly been fair lately, had she? Truthfully, she’d been up thinking about their conversation, and all the things she’d still wanted to say, some of which she was suddenly glad she hadn’t the chance to. If Zarenna changed who she was just to survive the odds stacked against both of them, she would no longer be the woman Sey married. Moreover, while Seyari had good reason to make sure Zarenna’s sometimes-blind, trusting nature didn’t get them stabbed in the back, she also needed to do more.

Not just administrative stuff. Or reading or starting to write that novel about a thief set in Liseu she’d had kicking around her head for twenty years. No, if Zarenna could have a heart-to-heart with a woman she barely knew just like that…

“Fuck, I need a social life.”