The sun this day was bright. Almost too bright at noonday, and the small caravan that traveled into Teyscha found it difficult to see without shading their eyes against the brilliant light.

Teyscha was a mountainous land, but featured vast plains where herds of wandering herbivores and packs of roving predators could be found on any given day.

At this moment the caravan was crossing through such wide open country, and both of the defining traits of Teyscha were apparent. Grasslands as far as the eye could see, and in the distance, mountains reaching up into the sky.

Avalaine, seated inside of a luxurious carriage, she still had to shield her eyes as she leaned out of the window to look ahead of the procession.

She had traveled this lonely road many times, as her home estates, Mount Lirra by name, resided at the end of this road, almost in the center of a ring of mountains. This mountain range itself was nearly in the center of the province ruled by her father, Earl Brentan Lirra.

The plains were mostly featureless, a near endless expanse of grass. But to her, the small rises and depressions in the grassland were markers, and the road itself had enough distinction for her to determine their place, and estimate their arrival time at her home.

The mountains loomed in the distance, and Avalaine thought, as she always did when she saw them, how they were not only beautiful, but provided security for her home, and the province itself.

With only one road in to Mount Lirra, they could only be attacked from the front. And mountains also lined the northern border of the province. This prevented them from building any kind of sea commerce, but also prevented the pirates that so plagued Varsus Province from attacking with any ease.

Teyscha only had one port, and it was as far to the southeast as possible. This seemed to be an unattractive prospect for the pirates, as they had not been a problem there, either.

Avalaine thought of Garrick then. She hoped he had returned safely to his home from Wademount.

She remembered the look on his face when she had been escorted away from Earl Mondrake’s tent by Prince Randall. Blank and expressionless. She had wanted to say she didn’t want to go, but such a thing was impossible.

When a prince of the realm wanted your attention, he got it.

Avalaine heard her name called and realized she had been leaning out of the window for a good long time now.

Returning to the inside of the carriage, she faced her companion.

Across from her was Lady Myria, a lifelong friend. Both the same age, Myria was more of a sister to her than her own sister Alyssa, who was a young hellion that Avalaine sometimes felt should be caged with the stable animals.

She had other ladies to attend her, but only Myria had been willing to travel with her on a foolish whim into Gods-only-knew-what at Wademount.

“What in the name of LaKrona were you looking at? There’s nothing to see but grass out there, not even a prairie dog,” said Myria. She was smiling, but she sounded frustrated.

Avalaine looked her friend over. Myria was slender and tall, with dark brown hair spilling over her shoulders and down her back. Despite her age, she had a girlish face that was always referred to as cute, which Avalaine knew infuriated Myria. She wanted to be beautiful.

The tan and white dress she was wearing now was higher quality finery than even they were used to. Traveling for these past few months with the Prince had seen them on the receiving end of his largess.

Prince Randall had positively showered her with gifts the like of which she had never seen. She had to give some of it to Myria, else leave it behind, never to be worn.

“That’s not true, Myrry,” said Avalaine, using her friend’s childhood nickname. “If I gauge not only the position of the sun, but our rate of travel from a known starting point, using some of the geographic markers visible I can calculate with some certainty the time we will arrive back at—”

“Ahhhhh!!!!!!!” Myria shouted, covering her ears with her hands, even as she could not keep a smile from her face.

“You know I hate it when you speak like that,” she said, removing her hands from her ears.

Avalaine smiled back. This was a constant theme of their relationship. Myria did not see the point of learning anything outside of the business of being a Lady.

“There’s nothing wrong with knowing about the natural world,” Avalaine said, laughing at her friend as she did so.

“Ugh,” said Myria, “you receive too many letters from that awful Viscount! This is his vile doing!”

Avalaine scowled. She knew Myria did not like Viscount Brandu, as she only saw the cold outer exterior of the man.

Although Avalaine had to admit that the interior of Brandu was only slightly higher in temperature. Still, she did not appreciate insult to a man she considered a friend and mentor.

Myria saw this and held her hands up.

“I apologize, Avvy,” she said, using Avalaine’s own childhood nickname. “I know he is, for some reason the Gods only know, a friend to you, so I rescind the words of my wayward tongue.”

Avalaine nodded graciously. “Your kindness knows no bounds.”

Myria looked at Avalaine with an expression of naked suspicion. Then she spoke.

“Speaking of wayward tongues, Avvy… what happened with you and Prince Randall that last night? You said nothing, and I haven’t asked again until now, but I can’t take it any longer.”

Avalaine immediately lost the feeling of mirth she’d been feeling. That last night she spent with Randall was not one she wished to dwell on.

Myria noticed her friend’s change in demeanor.

“What is it? I thought you had a wonderful time with the Prince? Is that not true?” she asked.

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Avalaine looked away. It was true. It was definitely true.

She had indeed experienced what anyone would call a wonderful time with Prince Randall.

He had made her feel important and shown her off at every opportunity. She was highborn, but had not experienced the true wealth of actual royalty until now.

The Royal Palace had overawed Avalaine. Just the sheer size of the grounds. All the people that must be employed to maintain it. The water fountains, the exotic trees and other plants. It was all so incredible.

Her parents were fond of telling her how she had already been to the Royal Palace, but that had been when she was a baby, and she remembered none of it.

Prince Randall made sure to call her attention to all of it. He was certainly not shy about letting others know the extent of his wealth.

Even though he was a true prince of the land, Avalaine felt Randall’s boastfulness could become tiresome, and she did not care for the way he often treated those lesser in rank to him.

Worse, he had been quite… insistent at times.

There had been many nights of amazing dinners, followed by dancers and other performances that she had never seen before. So many times she had felt such elation that she had never known…

… and then Randall would try to kiss her. Or his hands might be places that they shouldn’t. She’d mastered the art of fending him off without appearing to be fending him off, as she feared that might upset him.

After some of the tirades she had seen from the man, she was worried about a verbal explosion if he felt he had been balked.

That final night, she had realized he had resorted to attempting to get her drunk, or perhaps worse. One servant had been staring at her as they were seated for what was to be their last meal together before she returned home.

Avalaine attempted to ignore the small dark-haired girl, but the large brown eyes kept boring into her. The girl did not take her eyes off of Avalaine as she rounded the table, expertly filling the wine glasses.

Finally, Avalaine locked eyes with the servant, almost ready to admonish her publicly, but the look on the girl’s face startled her.

She was earnest. Pleading, really. The girl shook her head to the side. A sharp movement to indicate a negative.

Avalaine knew her own surprised expression revealed her lack of understanding.

The girl darted her head and eyes down quickly to Avalaine’s wineglass, then locked eyes with her once more. Again, the sharp head shake to the side.

After, the servant turned, and once again became just a part of the background. A prop to fill the scene played out by more important people.

Avalaine went cold. Looking down at her wine glass, she examined the liquid.

She could not see any indication of a foreign element. None at all. It looked like red wine to her.

But the wine was dark. Anything could be in there.

Prince Randall had been watching her, and he seemed unusually focused on her wineglass.

That was all the evidence she needed.

Avalaine was forced to put on the show of a lifetime. She managed to spill every single glass of wine that was put before her. Prince Randall was becoming more and more agitated with each spill.

Finally, she played her penultimate move.

She started crying.

Randall was now confused and stunned. He had demanded to know what was wrong.

Avalaine told him that this was the time of her woman’s blood, and she could not control herself during this time.

She had seen the look of disgust cross his face when she had mentioned it, which was exactly what she had hoped for.

Randall had practically launched himself from his seat, informing her that he would send a nurse to attend to her.

Avalaine had smiled at Randall’s back as he strode quickly out of the dining room, throwing back his tepid hopes for her pleasant journey home.

When she had returned to the rooms, where Myria had been waiting, she had refused to talk about it, only wanting to sleep.

Myria had been vibrating with curiosity, but could not wheedle any more information out of her before Avalaine went to bed.

Now there’s no getting out of it, Avalaine thought. She wanted to tell Myria, but she could not deny that her friend sometimes was loose with information that should be kept private.

If accusations were made against the Prince… well, tales like that had legs, and they would carry. Perhaps all the way back to Royal Maera, and if that happened…

To have the Prince annoyed, perhaps even disgusted with her was one thing, but to make him an enemy? That was not something she wanted. For her or her father.

Avalaine took the only way out. She had to reverse the inquisition back on Myria.

“You keep asking me about my night, but you never told me what happened with you and Squire Bevan? Do not think I didn’t notice the two of you everywhere we went. Your heads were together every time I saw you.”

Avalaine’s wide smile and laughter were not forced, because the two trying to hide their obvious dalliance had amused both her and the Prince.

“Nothing happened! Nothing, I swear! He is not of high enough rank!” Myria looked horrified.

Then her expression changed, and the smirk that Avalaine had been seeing for most of her life appeared on her friend’s youthful face.

“I say, almost nothing.” Myria’s face broke out into a full-blown grin.

Then her tone became conspiratorial. She leaned closer to Avalaine.

“I would never risk getting myself in trouble, but there were plenty of things we could do. As it turns out there were plenty of things he could do. Did I mention a wandering tongue before—?”

“MYRIA!” Avalaine shrieked, putting her hand out to stop her friend from saying more. She knew Myria would tell her all about it in great detail if she was not prevented from doing so.

“When it was my turn, I actually got my hands on it, and it was quite surprising because—”

“No, stop! I command you!” Avalaine shouted, and the two dissolved into hysterical laughter.

At that moment, Avalaine felt the carriage come to a stop. It was not a graceful one.

Both her and Myria were tossed about, but kept themselves nearly seated.

Avalaine stuck her head out of the carriage and yelled up to the driver.

“Kelto! What transpires here?”

Kelto, a man she had known for many years, was almost as old as her father, and had been driving as long as she could remember. She felt safe with him and had utmost confidence in his abilities.

A rough stop like this was not his usual stellar performance.

“Get back inside, my dear! Do not look!”

Avalaine muttered under her breath. Of course she was going to look now. She did not care about Kelto having spoken to her out of tone. The man had watched over her of her entire childhood.

But you cannot simply tell someone not to look, and then expect them to actually follow that directive.

She threw open the door, then gathered her dress and stepped carefully down out of the carriage. The bright sunlight was a bit jarring, but the crisp spring air felt good all around her.

Her carriage was one of the last in the small convoy, and she heard commotion from the riders and carriages ahead of them.

She walked forward, with Myria close on her back.

“No, my lady, go back!” Kelto shouted again, but again, she did not mind him.

Walking around the carriage, she saw some guardsmen and a few minor functionaries that had been traveling with them. They had stepped off the road and were all staring at something in the grass.

Avalaine walked closer and peered over a shorter man’s shoulder.

Then she drew a sharp breath and stepped back.

Before the small group of onlookers was a pile of dead bison. At least that was what Avalaine thought they were.

The carcasses were drained somehow. That was the word that Avalaine would use.

It looked as if the Bison had somehow all starved to death, then piled themselves into a mound and began putrefying together.

Flies were everywhere, and when the wind changed suddenly, the rank smell of the decaying animals wafted over to Avalaine.

She gagged, and one man, a minor steward named Donner, turned and retched.

“Disease!” shouted someone. Immediately, cloths and handkerchiefs were whisked out and placed over noses and mouths.

Myria practically shoved one into Avalaine’s mouth as she pulled her away.

“The poor things must have caught something. We’d best be careful with game this season!” Kelto shouted down at them.

But Avalaine did not think it was disease.

Did they not see the neatly flattened circle of grass around the animals? Did they not see the dark spots equidistantly placed around the edge? As if something had been burned there? Even more, the grass itself around the animals was gray. Not burned, but leached of color.

Leached of life, thought Avalaine.

This was no disease. Somehow she was certain of that.

Someone had done this barbaric act on purpose, and merely left it by the side of the road for the next passersby to see.

She suddenly felt cold, and despite the bright sunlight, the world seemed dark.