As I was on my way to see Hala to tell her about our hunting trip, I had the unfortunate pleasure of crossing paths with the one woman I’d now been avoiding like the plague. It was mere happenstance, when Jamila and I met eyes. She beelined to me, face filled with worry.

“Abyad,” she began. “We need to talk.”

Not again. I thought.

Jamila took me by the hand and dragged me deep into the garden, holding my sleeve once she’d gotten far enough to where we wouldn’t be seen by prying eyes.

“Why does Fatiha know of Al’Hala’s faked death?” She hissed.

“Al’Namir allowed the two to see each other.” I replied carefully. “Did something happen?”

I knew the answer, for the most part, but I didn’t know the specifics of what happened. Hala refused to talk to me, or anyone else, about what happened that day in the garden.

“She’s opening her goddamned mouth about it to every noble at socials, Abyad! Something needs to be done before everyone is turned against Al’Hala. This could lead to an over throwing!”

Fatiha was becoming a problem, and throwing a wrench in my plan. How were we to reap all of Otlak’s riches if word got out? I looked at her with as neutral of an expression as I could muster—she was right.

“I’ll have Kharif handle it.” I reassured her. Just as I began to walk past Jamila, she blocked my path.

“No. you’ll have me handle it.” She stated firmly. I raised an eyebrow.

“This can’t be solved using force, Abyad. You’re much too busy right now quelling the nobility in the bordering lands to attend these tea parties and socials. I’ll handle it, but I have to hear what happened to her.”

For the first time, I saw genuine concern on her face when referring to the Princess. Jamila was serious. She wanted to speak to Hala about Otlak, and that made me nervous.

“Jamila…I can’t guarantee that she’ll give you that. She’s still holed up in her room from Fatiha. How do I know you won’t make things worse?” I asked.

“Because, Abyad. I stopped trusting Shahin not long after we…” She cleared her throat. “I did some research—did you hear about the Zarvins who attended his socials right before Hala returned home?”

I nodded. The ones Abeni had mentioned—she sent letters discussing each social their kingdom sent an envoy to. Without being tipped off about Hala’s lack of contact, people wouldn’t have seen his behavior as suspicious.

“Leaving your own gathering at the same time every night is odd. And the fact that the events ended right when he left is even weirder. I want to see her for myself—the version of Al’Hala that isn’t skin over bones. She looked horrible that day you brought her back to the Grand Building.”

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I scratched my nose, and drew in a breath.

“I can’t make any promises.” I repeated.

“I don’t need promises. I just want a reason to make Fatiha an outcast, now.” She replied.

My face betrayed me, eyebrows raising in confusion.

“Why, though? Don’t you hate Al’Hala? Wouldn’t it be better to watch our plans crumble, so that she won’t take the throne?”

Her eyes narrowed on me, as a look of insult corded her face. “I may not have liked her as a child, but I am loyal to my Kingdom.” She touted. “Besides, after the night we shared…I know you don’t love me.”

“And if I’m still going to have feelings for you…the least I can do is support you. Even if it means defending the person who won your heart over me.”

I blinked, surprised to hear such a mature response from Jamila.

“I’ll see what I can do…” I replied quietly.

Jamila nodded once, stepping to the side and letting me walk past her. My mind was a bit hazy after that. Part of me was insistent on not trusting her, but my intuition said she might be our only hope in succeeding against whatever forces we were reckoning with.

————

The memory of that trip haunted me like a spirit with each step through the courtyard. How the forest went silent as that creature padded towards us; the sight of that Cursed One being swallowed whole by shadows in an instant; Bròn calling himself the Cursed Ones’ ‘keeper.’

What the hell did any of it mean?

As if summoned by my very thoughts, the entity came from the shadows beside me. He flashed a grin at me as we walked in unison.

“I always love when ya get sorrowful, Illuminated One.” He said cheerily. “It makes me all jittery, Powers That Be are anticipating yer decisions ya know.”

“They are?” I asked annoyedly. “Well, tell them I’m tired of being toyed with like a cat’s meal.”

“Oh, they know. That’s why they keep playin’ with ya’s.” He smiled wider.

We continued walking towards the Grand Building, with Bròn humming to himself. I rolled my shoulders, working up the courage to ask him questions I had no right knowing the answers to.

“When you said that you were that Cursed One’s keeper, what did you mean?” I asked.

“I meant what I said, Lad. I’m to keep ‘em in line, or bring ‘em down into the darkness for eternity.”

“What does it mean to keep them in line, though?”

He chuckled.

“It means whatever I want, so long as it don’t enrage the Powers.”

“So does that mean you could harm a human?” I pressed.

He gave a tight-lipped smile. “Aye, but some people are always just outta reach.”

He knew why I was asking, and I knew what he meant with his answer. I loosed a breath, pressing my hands to the Grand Building’s birch doors and opening them. Our feet clacked against the marble as we walked, heading towards the stairs to the chambers.

“She’s not gonna want to see that Lass.” Bròn stated.

A mischievous smile played at my lips as I looked at the Child of Calamity. “I know.” I said. “But I can convince her to do it, watch.” He smiled back in kind, his eyes glimmering with amusement.