Though he rarely had time to visit, Archbishop Iskander Forna doted on his little niece. It wasn’t easy growing up without knowing her father, and it only became harder without her mother nearby. The Orczy provided protection and guaranteed she had the best education possible, a rigorous and perfect upbringing as her mother wished. That left the archbishop in the perfect position to spoil her a little.

The common loving uncle might pass his nieces and nephews some sweets and toys behind their parents’ backs. A merely wealthy and influential uncle might provide their relatives with titles, sinecures, and luxuries. But only he could force the city’s upper crust, from the church to the guilds to the aristocracy, to bow and scrape in front of a child.

He had to admit, Otto really outdid himself with the party this year. Poor Teresa had been gloomy ever since Julia got sent up into the tower, but even so her studies proceeded flawlessly and her behavior was circumspect. That deserved a reward. Hiring a traveling circus to set up shop in the castle plaza was a good start. A flock of well-behaved pegasi and a hippogriff prancing on the green was better. A colossal train of well-wishers stretching from the main house to the gates, a who’s-who of Anthusan society, all bringing delightful gifts? That was something only Iskander Forna could provide.

Guildmasters in all their finery marched with a parade of artisans behind them, each carrying an enviable masterpiece. Priests, monks, and nuns processed with rare illuminated books and reliquaries. Nobility from Anthusa, other states on Vintal, and from other worlds all bore lavish gifts: jeweled dueling blades, fashionable dresses woven from spidersilk with a unicorn-hair trim, potions and alchemic materials invaluable for cultivation.

There were many lesser gifts as well, mere gold and gems, furniture, perfumes, cosmetics, and the like, which were shown off at some distance and conveyed directly into the Orczy vaults. The guests carrying these gifts didn’t even get to see Teresa through the sea of supplicants, nor did they linger at the party, but their presence was noted with approval. For these people of lesser standing to ignore the archbishop’s invitation would have been disastrous. The wealthier and more important guests were allowed to walk in a column that snaked through the luscious Orczy gardens, with its glistening rose bushes and tree-frog arboreta and rainbow-hued fountains, and passed by a raised platform separated from the procession by a high fence. Atop that platform sat the lady of the hour herself, Teresa Forna, with her tutor and nursemaid in the shadows behind, a fluffy, white, ‘wild’ bunny munching lettuce in her lap, and the archbishop next to her, the two playing with dolls.

Every so often, a gift would catch Teresa’s eye. The parade would stop and the bearer of that gift would walk up the steps, past rows of armed Orczy guards, to introduce themselves, meet the birthday girl, and present the gift personally. It should go without saying that this was a deeply humiliating arrangement which everyone was forced to pretend was actually a profound honor. These were not people accustomed to putting themselves up for judgment, less so that of a child, and at almost any other occasion every single guest would be the one sitting down, with supplicants coming to them. This was an outrageous position, one which communicated the archbishop’s intentions precisely.

Despite being born of a forced marriage to one of high society’s most despised characters, despite the influence and power of her father’s side having quite literally gone up in smoke, the Forna family was not going to disinherit Teresa or lower her standing. Despite the Forna family’s apparently reduced influence, Iskander Forna still possessed more than enough power to bring Anthusa to heel. All the schemers in the city, especially in the church, who had attempted to cut the young archbishop off from his support networks and make a puppet out of him had been crushed quickly, subtly, and decisively. When the Holy City fell and Anthusa once again smelled Forna blood in the water, the archbishop made a public spectacle of conspirators and hung their skeletons from the lower floors of the Cathedral Severe’s tower.

Forna power was not broken. Forna ambition was not broken. The Forna dynasty was not broken. His intentions were perfectly clear. Teresa would be a queen, and long after the name ‘Tenorio Kyno’ was forgotten she would rule with a golden scepter. That path began with a proper education and upbringing, yes, but also by setting expectations: hers, and those of others.

“Look uncle, a bunny!”

She pointed to the Anthusa Goldsmith’s guild delegation. At the front marched a mousy little man with thick pince-nez carrying… a bunny rabbit prancing on a green field. Archbishop Forna blinked, and only after looking with his superior senses was he convinced that it wasn’t alive.

It wasn’t merely a lifelike sculpture: though it was still, his instincts insisted that it was alive, merely frozen in time.

The archbishop raised his hand and the column stopped. The mousy man rose to the platform, squirming under the gaze of so many guards, and placed his masterwork on the table in front of them.

“It is my honor to meet you, Lady Teresa. I am Master Chervin, of the Arjou Jewelers’ guild, and it is my pleasure to present my masterwork.” He spoke with a thick Fleurish accent and crisp, practiced words.

“Uncle, uncle, Arjou is in Fleur!”

“That’s right Teresa. When did you get so smart?”

She giggled as the archbishop squeezed her cheek. From the shadows behind, her tutor stepped forward for the first time in the whole day. While he didn’t have the same gravitas as the archbishop, Chervin could tell that this man possessed great dignity and authority completely at odds with his position.

“The young lady has a good eye, your Excellency. This jewel has developed an animal soul in imitation of its shape. I dare say, I’ve seen very few pieces of similar quality before.”

Chervin knew better than to protest and ask where this scholar might have possibly seen anything of similar quality before. He knew better. Even if he really, really wanted to ask.

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The archbishop took it gingerly in his hand, and it took all of Chervin’s self-control not to break out in jittery sweats.

“Oh my. The grasses are emerald, aren’t they?”

Chervin made the right choice, clearly the archbishop was a man of refinement and good judgment.

“And what is this jewel, some kind of violet sapphire?”

No, he was a philistine of the lowest grade!

“It is zoisite, your Excellency. The unique color is due to an admixture of vanadium. Much rarer than sapphire.”

The archbishop looked it over again, even more carefully. Even Teresa’s pet rabbit was looking at it like it wanted to play.

“It is as you say, Rosso. I’ve scarcely ever seen a more beautiful piece. However…”

No no no, there couldn’t possibly be anything wrong with it.

“The gold setting is rather uneven. I daresay, it throws the whole thing off. Who did this?”

Chervin could feel the entire Goldsmith’s guild staring daggers into his back.

“It was an apprentice of the Goldsmith’s guild here in Anthusa, your Excellency.”

That wasn’t a lie, strictly speaking. Was it possible to kill a man by staring at him very, very hard? Chervin decided it was within the realm of possibility.

“But please, do not place the blame on them, your Excellency. I chose the apprentice myself, and it was my own poor judge of talent that led to this state.”

Teresa pulled on the archbishop’s sleeve.

“Uncle, this is so boooooring! Can I go ride the eagle-horsie?”

“Of course, dearest. Let’s go ride together.”

He placed the masterwork back in Chervin’s hands.

“Send it back to the guild and have Master Agnolo redo the setting, then deliver the final product to Duke Orczy.”

With that, the archbishop hefted his niece and her bunny into the air and made for the hippogriff on the green. Chervin felt like a house one load-bearing column away from collapse. He had avoided disaster, but he dreaded so much as turning around and looking at the goldsmiths’ smug faces.

The tutor’s gentle hand rested on his shoulder.

“You look pale, Master Chervin. Why don’t you take a seat with us?”

That sense of steady dignity washed over him again, and Chervin walked to the table in the shade as if floating on a cloud. With a wave of the tutor’s hand, the procession carried on, and without Teresa’s interruptions it would run its course within the hour.

“Tell me, Master Chervin, do you already have plans to return to Fleur?”

“Oh no, er, I don’t, um-”

“Relax. You may call me Rosso.”

“O-of course. I do not have any such plans, Lord Rosso.”

The nursemaid tittered behind her sleeve, and even the tutor cracked a smile on what Chervin now perceived as a constitutionally sad face.

“I’m very glad to hear that, Master Chervin. Tell me, are you at all familiar with Almonoides’ treatise on the nature of partial souls?”

Chervin’s heart leapt.

“Of course! I read the fragments preserved in Catlos’ On the Transcendent a hundred times while I was working on my piece. I can only grieve that the full text is lost.”

The tutor Rosso beamed.

“Then you will be glad to know that a copy of the full text was uncovered a few years back. I’ve just recently completed a Vintic translation, and I was hoping to arrange for a Fleurish translation as well, but I was lacking a proper proofreader. Would you mind coming next week to look over a few proofs?”

The answer was obvious. What else could Chervin say?

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

Myra tucked Teresa into bed just an hour past sundown. Between the gifts, the hippogriff ride, and all the cake, she was thoroughly tuckered out. But she always had enough energy to ask more questions.

“Myra, can we go outside tomorrow? I want to see the city.”

“What’s so good about the city, Terisita? All the best things are in here?”

“No! Mama isn’t here!”

“Lady Julia has hard work to do. I promise it’s very boring.”

“I hear there’s fighting outside!”

“Fighting it an ugly thing, Terisita. It’s not very ladylike to go watch fights.”

“But I wanna!”

“When your mother comes back, you can ask her, how about that?”

Teresa was quiet for a long time.

“Will she be back when I turn six?”

Myra embraced her.

“Your mama will be back as soon as she can.”

“And Mr Otto?”

“Mr. Otto is very sorry he couldn’t be here today. He’s a very busy man, you know.”

“I’m busy too, but I ALWAYS go say hello to him when he comes back!”

“I know, Teresita. I know.”

She fell asleep in Myra’s arms, and she expertly extracted herself without disturbing so much as a hair on her head.

It was hard, growing up without her father. Harder with her mother locked away where they couldn’t meet. Duke Orczy had decided Teresa wouldn’t step a foot outside the castle walls until she was grown up. He also decided that any mention of the plague was forbidden in front of her.

Teresa was fortunate in every other possible way. Immensely fortunate. The Duke was already more of a father to her than the bastard Kyno had ever been. It was only a matter of time before her adoption was official.

That would make her happy, Myra thought.

As she was about to blow out the last candle, a wrapped box with a bow caught her eye. They hadn’t opened presents in the bedroom earlier, had they? Maybe when Myra was speaking with Rosso?

Two long, thin, black-clad arms reached out of the box like a greater spider, wrapping around Myra’s throat and lifting her wholly body off the ground. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. She tried to fight, but she couldn't get leverage.

She would have summoned her power and blasted the whole room to smithereens in an instant if Teresa wasn’t so close. That moment of hesitation sealed her fate.

Fast-acting contact poison spread through her bloodstream from ten points, and reached her brain in moments. After less than ten seconds, Myra, nursemaid and bodyguard at the third realm of alchemic transformation, fell soundlessly to the floor.

The present’s top opened, and Lio Chekodorovna unfolded like a contortionist. Bodyguard down. Target in sight.

The gentle coo of a sleeping hippogriff sounded from outside the window.

Escape plan confirmed. Commence operation.