Virelai stepped over one of the many fallen soldiers littering the ground, careful to lift her skirts lest she get blood on them. Her nose wrinkled as she took in the scene around her.

"What a waste," she murmured.

If she were the one orchestrating the takeover, she would have found a bloodless way to do it. Now, their beautiful city was a mess.

Using the toe of her boot, she nudged the body in front of her. This one looked sort of familiar. She bent and squinted at the face-down elf in the flickering light of the magic orbs.

Ah, yes.

It was that young Commander. Virelai tried to recall his name—Eryx, or something. Such a pity he hadn't made it, but it was for the best, considering the things her father would have done to him had Gavaran found Eryx alive.

It was dangerous to be a friend of the former prince around here.

Virelai straightened and moved a few steps away when the Commander moaned.

She froze, unsure if she was mistaken. He’d certainly looked dead, but corpses didn’t generally make sounds.

Slowly, she turned back to look at the body. He was covered in so much blood and filth; she doubted he could still be living.

Eryx moaned again, almost a sigh.

Virelai glanced around, checking to see if any of her father's elves were in the area and watching her. When she saw no one, she returned to Eryx, crouching next to him. Curling her lip at what she was about to do, she grabbed hold of his shoulder and attempted to flip him over.

He was a lot heavier than he looked.

It took all of her strength, but she rolled him onto his back. When she let go, her hands came away covered in red.

Disgusting.

She eyed Eryx’s uniform, looking for a clean spot to wipe her hands, but found none. Instead, she was forced to use the hem of her skirt. She would have to hope no one saw her and reported to her father before she could change her dress.

Now that he was face up, Virelai saw Eryx’s chest rise and fall. He was alive, and if she wanted to keep him that way, she needed to get him out of here and hidden.

Virelai scanned the area again, checking for watching eyes. By some miracle, they hadn't been spotted yet.

Her gaze returned to the Commander, and she tilted her head to the side as she contemplated him. It might be worth the trouble to make sure he lived. He’d owe her his life, and she was in need of someone to help with her plans. Given that he was a friend of Kai’s, he was no ally of her father’s.

Yes, this might be a worthwhile endeavor.

With a bit of cajoling, she roused Eryx enough to get him on his feet. Most of his weight leaned against her, further sullying her dress, but it was something to worry about later. Right now, she needed somewhere to hide him.

The castle grounds were not an option as they were crawling with her father's elves. They’d need to go into the city, and it just so happened Virelai knew of a perfect place.

Her mother's family had left her their house, and following their wishes, she’d kept it a perfectly guarded secret from Gavaran. They’d never liked her father, and they’d wanted her to have a safe space all her own should she have need of it. Until now, she’d never taken anyone else there, but sacrifices would have to be made if she wanted to heal her newfound ally.

The early morning gloom offered them cover as they shuffled through the quiet streets, stopping occasionally when the pain became too much for Eryx or she needed to catch her breath. With the chaos at the castle and the early morning hour, it was unlikely anyone would notice the two of them, but Virelai was still careful to stay off the main roads.

By the time they arrived at the house, the world had lightened, and the city's residents stirred. They needed to get inside quickly.

Virelai leaned Eryx against the wall and pulled the key she always wore from the bodice of her dress.

After she unlocked the door, she helped Eryx inside, depositing him on one of the small beds. His filth was going to ruin the linens, but there was nothing to be done now. She would have to burn them later, along with her dress.

"Eryx?" Virelai called his name softly.

He’d stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes. He didn't respond.

She poked him with one finger and still got no reaction.

For a moment, she panicked, thinking she’d dragged him all this way only to have him die on her. Then she saw his chest rise as he took a breath.

He was unconscious; she realized.

Virelai looked around the room, unsure what to do with him now that she had him here. Maybe she should get him water, she decided. Disappearing into the kitchen, Virelai returned with a glass and a pitcher, depositing both on the bedside table.

Eryx still hadn't moved.

He needed a healer, that much was plain, and she didn't have the first clue about healing someone. She would have to find someone who did, and quickly. Elves typically healed on their own, thanks to their bodies' abilities. It was only in severe cases like this that one might require extra assistance. A body could only take so much before it shut down, and Eryx's had appeared to do just that. If Virelai didn’t find help, he would likely bleed out from the wounds his body refused to close on its own.

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She sighed. There was no choice but to reveal her secret home to yet another elf. This had better be worth it.

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When Virelai returned to the castle grounds, more elves roamed among the mess, doing their best to set the place to rights. The magic orbs had winked out, and sunlight revealed the cobblestones bathed in shades of red and black.

Virelai tried not to look too close as she made her way across the courtyard, tugging at the sleeves of her dress to stretch them. She’d found the dress hanging in the closet at the house and although it didn’t quite fit right, at least it wasn’t covered in blood. Her first task was to find a healer, then she could change into something that wasn’t a good three inches too short.

She headed for the first elf she saw. He appeared young, but he wore the uniform of a guard. The perfect target for her orders.

"I need a healer," Virelai demanded, stopping short of the body he’d been staring at.

He glanced up with a disgruntled expression, but lucky for him, he realized who she was before he opened his mouth.

Sometimes it worked in her favor to be Gavaran's daughter.

"There isn't one," he informed her.

He didn’t add any kind of honorific to her name, but she was in a hurry, so she let it slide. "What do you mean there isn't one? What about Neorah? Where is she?"

Having never had a need for a healer herself, Neorah was the only one she knew by name since she had served the Queen.

"Dead," he said, picking up the body at his feet and forcing Virelai to move away lest she be splattered with whatever was leaking from it.

Typical, she thought, watching the guard deposit the body into a wagon. Her one option was dead. Now what was she supposed to do?

Virelai racked her brain. Who might be sympathetic enough to help the Commander? It had to be someone she could trust—or rather blackmail into keeping their mouth shut. Unfortunately, anyone who fit both categories was likely already dead.

Then Virelai had an idea.

What about that blonde servant girl?

She remembered seeing her moon over the Commander before. Perhaps she could help. Although the chance she was still alive was slim, at best, since she’d been acting as a servant to Kai's precious human seer. Virelai had heard whispers the seer and the other Commander, Kestrel, had escaped, but she doubted they’d take a servant with them.

It was worth a try, Virelai decided, heading into the castle to track her down. If there was anyone she could blackmail, it would be someone close to the prince.

Inside the castle, Virelai stopped one of the many servants running around with buckets.

"Oh, you're looking for Wisteria," the elf said, after Virelai had described her. "Haven’t seen her. Did you try her room? Otherwise, you might find her in the tower. That’s where she mainly works."

Virelai highly doubted Wisteria would be anywhere near the tower if she had any sense of self-preservation. "Tell me where I can find her room."

The servant rattled off directions to a part of the castle Virelai had never bothered to visit before, and Virelai left her to her floor scrubbing.

Following the directions, she found herself in a narrow, dimly lit hallway with doors on either side. These rooms had previously housed humans, but since the Queen had banned keeping them, other elves had taken the humans’ place. The numbers carved next to each of the doors made it easy to find the room she was looking for.

Virelai didn't bother knocking.

The room was small, barely fitting a single bed. It was more like a storage closet than a bedroom. Not that she’d ever seen the inside of a storage closet, but she imagined it must be similar.

A girl lay curled up on the bed with her back to Virelai, but she knew by the pale blonde hair that she had the right room.

"Wisteria," Virelai snapped.

The blonde elf started and lifted her head. When she saw who it was, her eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

Virelai was impressed with her venom, though perhaps she’d been mistaken about her sense of self-preservation. "I require your assistance."

She refused to beg this servant girl for help, even though she desperately needed it.

"And why would I help you?"

Virelai covered her irritation with a smile that normally sent the servants quaking in fear. "You don't have a choice. Your precious Prince Kaimana is no longer running this city, in case you haven't heard, and I happen to know you were a supporter of his. Do you know what happens to elves who support a traitor?"

Wisteria paled. "He wasn't a traitor," she said firmly.

Virelai stepped into the room and lowered her voice. "We both know that, but I'm not sure my father would see it that way. And we wouldn't want him finding out about you, now would we?"

Wisteria eyed her warily for a moment before she gave in. "Fine. What do you want me to do?"

"I need you to find healer's supplies, and then meet me on the northwest corner of Shopkeeper’s Row." None of the streets in Nyrene had official names, but everyone referred to the main thoroughfare through the shopping district as Shopkeeper’s Row.

“All right.”

"Oh, and one more thing. Don’t let anyone know what you are doing. If you’re caught, I won’t be able to save you," Virelai said over her shoulder as she turned to leave the room.

Wisteria grumbled something under her breath, but Virelai didn't stick around to hear what she said. She needed to change her dress and gather some supplies of her own.

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Virelai leaned against the side of a building, tapping her foot impatiently. How long did it take to get some bandages? At this rate, Eryx might be dead by the time they got back to him, and then all this trouble would have been for nothing.

She sighed as she stared up the street, waiting for Wisteria to appear. That girl had better not change her mind about helping, or she was going to be sorry.

Finally, Virelai spotted her. She was easy enough to see because she was the only one out on the street. Wisteria carried a bag with her and was constantly glancing back and forth. It would be obvious to anyone watching that she was up to something.

Virelai pushed off the building and hurried over to Wisteria before she could draw any more attention to herself. "Come on," she murmured, taking hold of the girl's elbow and turning her around. "Keep your head down and stop looking around like a frightened mouse. You're going to give yourself away."

Wisteria's mouth tightened in annoyance at the reprimand, but she didn't say anything as she ducked her head like Virelai had instructed.

Virelai led them through the streets and back to the house where she had stashed Eryx. Wisteria eyed her curiously as she pulled the key out of its hiding place and unlocked the door.

"You first," Virelai said, shoving Wisteria inside over the threshold. She shot one last look around the street, checking for prying eyes, before she stepped inside herself and locked the door behind her.

"This way," Virelai barked, leading the girl to the room where she had left Eryx.

Please let him still be alive.

He was in the same position she had left him, but his chest was, thankfully, still rising and falling. He hadn't expired while she was gone.

Wisteria shoved past her, knocking Virelai into the doorframe as she rushed to the bed.

"Watch it!"

Wisteria ignored her. "Oh, Eryx. What's happened to you?" Virelai heard her murmur to him as she gently touched his face. She didn't seem to notice or care that she was getting blood all over herself.

"Well then, I'll leave you to it. Make sure he stays alive and you will too."

"Wait, what? You want me to heal him?" Wisteria looked up at her with panic in her eyes.

"What did you think I wanted you to do with him? Yes, of course I want you to heal him."

"But," the girl sputtered, "I've never healed anyone in my life, and while I'm no expert, I think he is dying. He needs someone who knows what they’re doing—someone like Neorah."

"Neorah is unavailable, so unless you know how to raise someone from the dead, you better learn how to heal quick, or both of you will be joining her. I have plans for him, and I need him alive."

Wisteria glared at her. "What could you want with him? You have everything now, don't you?"

If only she knew.

Virelai ignored the questions. "I'll be back later to check on you. I have some business to attend to in the castle, but I will be back as soon as I can. Stay here, and don’t do anything stupid in the meantime."

With a sweep of her skirts, she exited the room, leaving Wisteria to her task.