Although it was late in the afternoon, there was still a long line at the well. The snow had stopped, but a cold wind continued to blow. Felitïa smiled as Nin-Akna ran a finger through the layer of snow on one of the stone benches in the plaza.

“It’s not melting now. Will it? Or is this the start of those mountains?”

Felitïa brushed away enough snow to sit on the bench. “It’s still early winter and the ground hasn’t frozen yet, so there’s a good chance it’ll be gone by tomorrow. Maybe even in a few hours. But as they days get colder, it’ll eventually stick around the whole winter.”

“It gets colder?”

Felitïa smirked and put her hands in her lap.

Nin-Akna shivered despite the shawl they’d retrieved from the inn. It was one of Felitïa’s and it did look a little odd on the young woman—mainly due to the clash with Nin-Akna’s jerkin. The jerkin’s tough red leather was at odds with the shawl’s softer, brighter fabric. Still, it covered Nin-Akna’s shoulders and arms. Her legs were still bare beneath her skirt, but she looked more comfortable than she had earlier. Some discomfort still emanated from her, but there was relief as well.

Felitïa closed her eyes and formed the Room.

“You don’t need the Staff for this?” Nin-Akna asked.

“No, this has nothing to do with the Staff. I’ll be better off without it. This should only take a few minutes. Then we’ll continue on to the Hall of Knowledge.”

In the Room, Felitïa stepped in one of those impossible directions—the ones that were kind of sideways, but not really—into the limbo of her mind beyond the Room. Even here, the mysterious grey walls loomed in the shadowy distance. But she wasn’t here for those right now. Here, she just let her mind wander back to that day by the well thirteen years ago.

Images began to form. The plaza. The well. The queue. But the people were hazy and indistinct, little more than vaguely human outlines of shadow and mist, no more recognisable than the shrouded figures in the other line-up of people in her head. The plaza and well were more distinct, perhaps because she had seen those just moments ago. That probably meant those images were closer to what the plaza and well looked like now than they did thirteen years ago—not that either had changed much.

Memory was a fickle thing.

Some of the people in the line began to take on more distinct characteristics. Tall, short, hints of the clothes they were wearing.

Could she really remember what people were wearing that day?

No, of course not. These were the people she had just now seen in the line.

She pushed the images aside, focused on the past. Focused on being thirteen years old again.

An old woman pushed in front of her. Felitïa was about to say something, but the scowl on the woman’s face made her decide otherwise. That face was little more than a blurry smudge, but the scowl stood out. She remembered the scowl.

She latched onto that, tried to use it to draw out other memories.

The woman was speaking, saying terrible things about wizards—did she insult Felitïa directly?—but her mouth never moved. The words were just thoughts in her head, and Felitïa could hear them clearly—same with the thoughts of everyone else around her.

Where am I?

But there were thoughts that didn’t fit, didn’t make sense. That was the key. It had to be.

Does it matter?

It matters.

She is here with us.

The most beautiful woman.

She is powerful indeed if she can see us in this place.

Fragments of a conversation. About her? But who was talking? Where were they talking?

Felitïa, you must listen to me.

Damn, those words wouldn’t leave her alone. I am listening to you. I’ve been listening to you for ages, but you never say anything.

No, she had to remember that these were memories. Memories weren’t going to respond to her now. She had to focus on what had happened then.

Someone knelt in front of her. A woman.

The most beautiful woman.

The memory was still hazy, the image partially formed. The woman looked like...Maneshka? No. That wasn’t right. There were similarities in appearance like skin colour, and her mind was now conflating the two separate memories into one. This wasn’t Maneshka. This woman was taller and older than Maneshka by maybe ten years or so. Her hair wasn’t short like Maneshka’s but worn in long dreadlocks, a couple of which hung over the sides of her face. There was a literal sparkle in her eyes.

Wait. That had to be her memory playing tricks on her. Eyes didn’t actually sparkle, despite the metaphors in stories. She still had to concentrate to not see Maneshka’s face instead of this woman’s. Her mind could easily be playing other tricks too.

Felitïa, you must listen to me. You will soon forget this, but you must remember.

No, the sparkle wasn’t in the woman’s eyes! It was in the eyes of the serpent carved into the top of the staff she was carrying—in the sparkling gems that were the serpent’s eyes.

Felitïa.

I don’t understand. Had she said that at the time? She must have.

Felitïa!

No, something wasn’t right.

A hand touched her shoulder.

“Felitïa!”

The woman… The memory of her crumbled away into the nothingness along with the well and the half-formed images of people.

Felitïa opened her eyes.

She had been so close.

It was Nin-Akna’s hand on her shoulder. “Sorry, but we’ve got company.”

Standing beside Nin-Akna was a familiar grey-bearded Folith in the uniform and armour of the City Watch. Two other watchmen stood behind him. He gave a small bow of his head and shoulders. “Your Highness, a pleasure to have you back in the city.”

“Almais,” Felitïa said.

“I trust you are well, your Highness?”

“Reasonably.” She stood up and looked him in the eye. He was only a little taller than her. “Is there something I can help you with, Captain?”

He shook his head. “No, your Highness. I was merely concerned. Sleeping outdoors in weather like this is not conducive to good health.”

“I wasn’t sleeping. I was meditating. Nonetheless, thank you for your concern. If there’s nothing else…” She turned a little as if to walk away, though she knew he wouldn’t be finished yet.

“I was also surprised to see you. I was not informed that you were in the city, so I wanted to extend my greetings.” A low level of contempt emanated from him—not that unusual from him, though he usually reserved it for Zandrue. “A visit from two members of the Royal household in such close proximity doesn’t happen often. I would have expected more fanfare.” A hint of disgust at the idea of fanfare for Felitïa drizzled from him. He must not have liked finding out she was a princess.

“I arrived unannounced to anyone, Captain. I’m not here for any Royal business.”

He straightened up and a hint of a smile played across his face. “Ah yes, I heard something about a banishment.”

Felitïa forced a smile. “Yes, so you needn’t worry about providing me any sort of security. I’ll take care of myself. Now, if I might be on my way?”

He moved so that he was still blocking her way. “I take it Zandrue is here too, your Highness?”

“No, so you needn’t worry about her either.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“And this other person with you?” Revulsion briefly mixed in with his other emotions as he indicated Nin-Akna.

“A friend of mine, and as you said, she’s with me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Captain, I have things to do.”

Almais stepped aside. “Of course, your Highness. My apologies for delaying you. I hope your stay in the city is a pleasant one. Please do be careful. As you know, the streets of Quorge can be dangerous for two young women without escort.”

“I am the escort,” Nin-Akna said.

Almais smirked. “Of course you are.”

“Let’s go,” Felitïa said, and started walking away.

Nin-Akna hesitated a moment before following. “Who was that guy?”

“A guy with a grudge against me for protecting Zandrue. No one to worry about.”

“You shouldn’t have let him get away with behaving like that.”

“It was best not to cause a scene.”

“If he treats me like that again, I’ll definitely cause a scene.”

Felitïa stopped walking and turned to face Nin-Akna, who stopped as well. “You…” She stopped herself from telling the Youth Guard not to. “Just be careful. He’ll have a lot of people on his side.”

Nin-Akna nodded. “Fine.” She looked about to say more, but said nothing. Annoyance flowed from her.

They started walking again.

After a minute or two, Nin-Akna said, “Did what you were trying to do work?”

Felitïa sighed. “I was so close. I remembered something new. A woman I met, I think.”

“At the well?”

“No. Or yes. Sort of? I’m not really sure. I was starting to remember, but then you interrupted.”

Nin-Akna lowered her head. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Blame Almais. I’ll just go back and try another time.”

The walk through the streets was not what Felitïa had hoped for. She had envisioned it calming her, despite her anxieties. She’d hoped actually being here—actually seeing the familiar things around her—would help her relax. Instead, it was just making things worse. Every step she took towards the Hall of Knowledge brought with it memories of the past—of Elderaan in particular.

Should she visit the old shop at some point? See what Angelida had done with it?

She didn’t want to—too many memories to contend with—but perhaps it was something she needed to do.

“Reminds me of a temple,” Nin-Akna said when they came in sight of the Hall of Knowledge.

The Hall of Knowledge was blockier than a Ninifin step pyramid, but there was a resemblance. The elevated entrance at the top of a long flight of stairs was the main point of similarity.

A flight of steps that could be treacherous in bad weather.

Fluffy snow covered the steps, and the lack of footprints indicated no one had been up or down them since the snow fell. They weren’t likely to be icy at the moment, but they could be slippery.

“Watch your step.” Felitïa started up the steps.

The rubble from the collapsed gargoyle that had been here the last time she’d visited was now gone. The dragon gargoyle over the other side of the entrance doors continued to glare down at people climbing the stairs—continued to look like it might fall on top of anyone who dared stand beneath it.

It stayed in its perch, however, when they passed through the entrance doors and into the large hall beyond.

“The inside’s definitely not like a temple,” Nin-Akna said as they crossed the hall towards the meagre fireplace and the robed figure seated near it.

That figure put down a book and stood up to greet them. With their hoods up, the only librarian Felitïa could recognise was Pedrin due to his height. This was not Pedrin.

“May I help you?” The librarian pulled back his hood to reveal someone Felitïa still did not recognise. Someone new?

“Yes, I was hoping to speak to Ezmelda. I’m Felitïa...er...Asa. I’ve been known by both names here.” She bit her lip.

“Oh yes, I’ve heard of you.” He was a young Eloorin, in his early twenties at most. “You’re the princess who pretended to not be a princess, right?”

Felitïa gave a slow nod. “Yes. This is my friend, Nin-Akna.”

He brushed back a strand of dark, curly hair from his forehead. “Nice to meet you both. I’m Fridrin.” He gave a slight bow. Physically, he was very similar to Meleng. His gaze lingered on Nin-Akna, and Felitïa could sense his interest in her unusual appearance and even some attraction in him.

There was some discomfort coming from Nin-Akna, though. “So, this Ezmelda…”

Fridrin looked away from Nin-Akna. “Yes, of course. I think Ezmelda should be available. I’ll take you to her. Follow me.”

Felitïa nodded to Nin-Akna, and they followed.

The last time Felitïa had been in Ezmelda’s office, they had had a fight. Not an argument. A literal fight. So, as Fridrin knocked on the door, Felitïa shivered. She hadn’t seen Ezmelda since that day. How was Ezmelda likely to react to her return?

“Yes?”

Fridrin opened the door. “Sorry to bother you, but there are some people here to see you. One says her name is Felitïa.”

“Show her in.” There was urgency in Ezmelda’s tone.

Fridrin stepped aside and Felitïa entered. Nin-Akna followed.

Nothing had changed about Ezmelda’s office. Ezmelda stood behind the plain wooden desk at the end of the red carpet that ran the length of the room. She waited there while Felitïa and Nin-Akna crossed the room, Nin-Akna gazing about and taking everything in. There was a tenseness to Nin-Akna’s walk and Felitïa was picking up heightened alertness from her. Felitïa tried giving her a comforting smile, but Nin-Akna didn’t seem to notice.

“Felitïa. I’m glad to see you again.” Ezmelda did not come round the desk to greet her.

“Likewise,” Felitïa said.

The feelings emanating from Ezmelda were a mix: nervousness, irritation, some excitement, and more. “You’ve been gone quite some time.”

“Yes, I suppose I have.”

There was a moment of awkward silence.

“Please, have a seat,” Ezmelda said, motioning to the two chairs in front of the desk.

Felitïa sat in one of them. “Thank you.”

Nin-Akna didn’t move. “I’d rather stand.”

Ezmelda nodded slowly. “As you wish.” She sat in the chair behind her desk.

“This is my friend, Nin-Akna,” Felitïa said.

“Nin-Akna. That’s a Ninifin name, isn’t it?”

Nin-Akna nodded. “Correct.”

“You don’t see very many Ninifins this far north.”

Nin-Akna just shrugged.

“Ezmelda,” Felitïa said, then paused. She took a deep breath as Ezmelda looked to her. “I know this might be a little awkward. That’s why I wanted to come to you as soon as possible after arriving in the city. Hopefully we can clear the air between us over what happened last time.”

“I told you last time, we had no choice.” Ezmelda’s irritation was rising.

Felitïa nodded. “I know, and I don’t blame you. I don’t hold any grudges. In fact, I want to apologise to you for keeping you in the dark about my identity for so long. I was...well, whatever my reasons, I should have told you, and for that, I’m sorry.”

Ezmelda sighed and her irritation receded. “For what it’s worth, Felitïa, I understand why you didn’t tell me or the rest of the council. And truth be told, Elderaan was at just as much fault, if not more. At any rate, we had no choice but to hand you over to Lord Belone. Nevertheless, I am sorry for doing it. I hope nothing too bad happened to you.”

Felitïa shook her head. “Not from Belone anyway. He just sent me to Arnor City. After that...well, that’s when things started getting interesting.”

Ezmelda raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”

How much should she actually share with Ezmelda? There was a time when Felitïa would have trusted Ezmelda without a second thought, but that time was gone. It wasn’t just because of their last encounter with each other. So much else had changed in that time. Still, she needed Ezmelda’s help. “It’s a long story. I’ll fill you in when there’s more time. I’m going to be in Quorge for a while. I’m not sure how long yet, but a few months at least. Agernon is helping me with some research, and I’ll need access to the library here if you’ll allow it.”

“Is this to do with the boy from last time? I questioned Agernon and I know you went to him for the same thing last time.”

“It’s about the boy, yes, and a few other things.”

Ezmelda rubbed her forehead. “I see no reason to deny you access to the stacks. As long as Lord Belone doesn’t object, of course.”

Felitïa groaned. “Hopefully, that won’t be a worry. I intend to see him at some point, and I’ll try to make certain he doesn’t interfere with us here.”

“I would appreciate you keeping his attention away from us. Was there anything else?”

That was abrupt, though Felitïa didn’t really blame her. “Not for now. I just wanted you to know I was here...and to apologise.”

Ezmelda stood up again. “Very well. I’ll tell Pedrin and the other librarians to expect you.”

Felitïa stood up as well. “My friend Nin-Akna too. She’ll be helping me, and may need to come on her own sometimes.”

Ezmelda nodded at Nin-Akna. “Of course. You will be welcome here, too, Nin-Akna.”

Nin-Akna bowed her head. “Thank you.”

Ezmelda walked round the desk and led them back to the door. As she opened it, she said, “It’s been good seeing you again, Asa.” Sadness and happiness flowed from her in equal measure.

“And you, Madame Ezmelda.”

Felitïa and Nin-Akna left the office and Fridrin led them back to the entrance hall.