The next morning, Eva awoke with a headache.

She briefly considered banishing the hangover with magic, but she resisted the temptation. That kind of magic, the sort of magic that directly affected the human body, came with a cost. Eva knew well enough to choose her actions carefully in that regard.

So instead she headed to the kitchens where she whipped up her family’s old hangover cure.

Two raw eggs. Pickle juice. A dash of vinegar. A whole anchovy.

Eva didn’t have a lot of memories from when she still lived with her family. Not only was she very young, but that period of her life was… unstable in many ways that made it difficult to clearly distinguish one event from another in her mind.

But one memory she could recall clear as day was a memory of being very small and standing on a wooden stool in the kitchen while her father shouted instructions for how to make this drink.

The counter was higher than she could comfortably reach, even with the stool. She had to strain to crack the egg into the glass.

“Oh come on, you got eggshells in there, you dumb bitch!” her father had shouted. “Can’t you do anything right! Get a new glass and start over.”

Eva, her hand covered in egg, carefully got down and moved the stool back over to the other cabinet. With her father still grumbling at her from his seat at the kitchen table, Eva climbed back up again, and she reached up and up, trying to get another drinking glass. Her finger just brushed against the glass when she felt the stool shift out from under her and she fell and—

Eva downed the whole drink in one go, anchovy included. Then she went to find Anne.

None of the kitchen staff had even acknowledged her while she was in there. Other then one or two nervous glances, they had stayed out of her way.

Eva was used to that.

The various acolytes and clerics Eva passed in the hallway would at most nod at her and then hurry on their way.

Within the Church of Coris there were rigid and well-defined rules about how to interact with others based on their position in the church hierarchy. Following these rules meant that there were very few occasions where you risked offending someone who had power over you.

But Eva was someone with an enormous amount of undefined power that existed beyond her official rank in the church.

That unclear position was very useful for Eva’s purposes, since it meant she could ignore most of the rules herself and act in ways that would usually be beyond her official church role.

However, it also meant that, for the most part, other people had no idea how to interact with her. That was why they all acted nervous around her and did their best to avoid her when possible. They didn’t know how they were supposed to talk to her, so they mostly just… didn’t.

Eva was fine with that.

Eva finally arrived at Anne’s chambers, where she knocked quietly before opening the door and heading inside.

Anne was still asleep, although it was pretty late in the morning. When Eva walked in, Anne stirred, propping herself up on her elbows and blinking blearily.

“Hmm?” said Anne.

Then, as she woke up more fully, Anne visibly recognized her friend, and her face lit up. She smiled wide and said “Eva! Good morning!”

This was why Eva didn’t care if she was ignored or feared or even hated by everyone else in the world.

If Anne was the only one who ever greeted her with a smile and a kind word, that would be enough for Eva.

“How was your day off?” asked Anne.

“It was fine,” said Eva, smiling as she sat down in a chair beside Anne’s bed.

“Did you manage to relax at all?” asked Anne.

“I did, actually,” said Eva. “I had a surprisingly… nice evening.”

“Good! I’m glad!” Anne’s smile was brighter than ever.

“What about you?” asked Eva. “How did you and Agis spend your day without me?”

“Oh, uh…” Anne looked away from Eva and started rubbing the back of her head sheepishly.

“Anne…” said Eva. “What did you do?”

“It’s not a big deal!” said Anne. “We had a good day, too! Nothing bad happened! We just, uh… went to a party held by one of Corvina’s friends.”

“You went… where!?”

----------------------------------------

“Sloppy! You’re all sloppy!” shouted Grand Duke Marshal at the cowering recruits lined up for morning drills. “Give me five more laps from here to the guard house. Go!”

As the recruits ran off, Marshal leaned against the wall, arms folded, scowling. It was clear to everyone that he was in a particularly foul mood that morning.

His discussion with the Baroness Graye the night before had left his thoughts heavier and his coin purse lighter than it had been before.

I shouldn’t have paid her anything, he thought to himself. Corvina, towards the Saintess… how ridiculous. Besides, Corvina and Sebastian have habitually avoided each other for years. Everything about this supposed conversation the Baroness claims to have overheard is implausible at best.

Marshal was jerked out of his reverie by the obnoxious sound of familiar shrill laughter.

Marshal glanced across the yard to the stables, where he could see Prince Sebastian practically openly flirting with one of the stable hands.

Marshal clicked his tongue. Clearly the prince was in need of another warning.

Marshal approached the prince with some purpose. When he called “Your Highness!” he expected Sebastian to look at him with a mix of fear, apprehension, even shame. What he hadn’t expected was a defiant glare.

“What do you want, Marshal?” asked Sebastian.

The stable hand, obviously not wanting to be involved in whatever was about to go down, made some excuses about work and scurried off.

“I’m telling you this as a friend,” said Marshal. “But don’t you think you should be more careful about what you do out in the open?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Nobody really notices that sort of thing unless they’re looking for it,” he said.

“Well, I don’t want to see it,” said Marshal. “It’s disgusting.”

“I don’t care what you think! If you don’t want to see it, don’t look then!” said Sebastian, turning to go. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”

Marshal grabbed Sebastian’s arm, stopping him in his tracks. “You should care what I think,” he hissed. “I could tell your father that you—”

“Try it!” snapped Sebastian. “Why don’t you try telling the Emperor what his precious only son and heir gets up to in his bedroom. Let’s see what he does to you for trying to make up that kind of slander, shall we?”

That gave Marshal pause. “How can you be sure the Emperor will take your side over mine? You know I’ve proven myself to him repeatedly while you’ve remained this useless… dead weight.”

“A useless dead weight that shares his blood,” said Sebastian. “I’m now confident that I know how that would play out. After all, Corvina told me…” Sebastian trailed off, staring into the distance, his expression a little haunted.

“What? What did Corvina tell you?” said Marshal, shaking Sebastian.

“It doesn’t matter!” said Sebastian, pushing Marshal away. “What matters is that Corvina knows our father better than anyone, and you can’t blackmail me anymore. Now go back to your running around the dirt with your friends or whatever it is you do. I don’t want to look at your face right now.”

Marshal gritted his teeth and walked away while Sebastian disappeared into the stables.

The recruits were back at their starting position, panting heavily, clearly exhausted. They all looked up at Duke Marshal, pleadingly.

“Five more laps!” shouted Marshal. “And if you pass out or throw up you’ll lose your lunch privileges. Go! Go!”

While the desperate recruits began running gain, Grand Duke Marshal brooded.

It seemed likely Baroness Graye had been telling the truth after all.

Marshal punched the wall behind him.

He had failed to get the Saintess under his control. And now he had lost control over the Crown Prince. And it was becoming increasingly clear that Lady Corvina had something to do with both of these unfortunate situations.

Clearly Marshal needed to have a talk with his fiancee.