Quilla sat in the front pew and dabbed at her brow with a handkerchief. It was freezing in the church, but she was still sweating. Moving all the gifts into the chancel and setting them up had taken awhile.

And after she’d spent the last week setting them up in the Cathedral’s Great Hall!

She was sure Ardon had changed his mind last minute like that for some political purpose or another. Or maybe it was to get back at her for not telling him what Lisanacora had said.

Gods, she saw ulterior motives in everything people did these days! She wished she could just take people at face value, but that was pretty much impossible.

Nothing was going well.

Over two weeks and nothing had turned up regarding Dyle or any other Darkers. The Palace was a big place, but even so, there were only so many places to hide, and only so many people living there. How was he keeping himself hidden?

And she still couldn’t remember what had happened that night he’d visited her.

She doubted she’d ever remember, but that didn’t stop her hoping it would all suddenly come back to her.

The Queen was in an eternal huff, of course—no, rage was a better word. Word had come in that Sinitïa had been spotted with Meleng and Jorvan in Beldrum, but they had escaped on board a ship. The King had declared Meleng and Jorvan fugitives of the state. They were to be caught and hanged.

Quilla had not been happy about that. She’d had it out with Zandrue.

“See what you’ve done?”

Zandrue took the reproach calmly. “Everything we do is a risk. You know that. At any moment, any of us could be sentenced to hanging. Better it’s one of us who’s far away, don’t you think?”

Quilla hadn’t really had her heart set into the confrontation as she knew Zandrue was right. Felitïa had said to blame her, and Quilla had had no compunctions against that. What was one more?

It had helped strengthen her relationship with Zandrue, at least.

Rudiger had been chumming it up with the Princes, so that was one thing that had gone reasonably well. He hadn’t learned anything useful though.

Meanwhile, Quilla had been trying to get to know the servants. That had not gone particularly well. Marna seemed to have accepted her, but everyone else still saw her as that not-quite-noble someone who pretended to be part of the nobility without actually being part of it, yet who had also abandoned the class of her birth.

And in the case of Marna, Quilla suspected the girl was under instructions to accept her and be friendly with her. One more way in which Ardon was running everything from behind the scenes.

Yet Ardon hadn’t learned anything about the Darkers either. As much as there were things about Ardon she didn’t trust, she did trust he was on her side when it came to Dyle and the Darkers. There was no reason for him to hold back information he might have—at least not all of it. Zandrue said Ardon was clearly worried, and Quilla had to agree.

“Quilla?”

Quilla looked up at the sound of the voice.

A familiar figure was walking down the nave, trailed by a pair of Royal Guards—someone Quilla hadn’t seen in a long while.

Quilla sprang to her feet. “Gabriella!”

The princess came forward and hugged Quilla. “I am so sorry, Quilla. The two of you were such a good match.”

“Thank you.” Quilla hugged Gabriella tightly for several seconds, holding back tears once again. Once she felt she had herself under control, she let go and stood back.

“Looks like I barely made it,” Gabriella said.

It had been well over a year since Quilla had last seen Gabriella. That was at a time before she’d met Felitïa, so she had never really noticed before how similar the two were. They weren’t identical by any means. Gabriella was taller, her hair curlier, and her eyes larger. Gabriella was also more athletic and muscular. Yet their hair and eyes were the same shades of brown, and they both had small, turned-up noses. There was no denying they were siblings, even if only half.

Gabriella also shared Felitïa’s trait of not giving a damn what her family thought of her, evident by the fact she stood here now in travelling clothes that included pants and no skirts.

“I’m glad you made it,” Quilla said. “I was afraid you wouldn’t.”

Gabriella frowned and sat in one of the pews. “I didn’t even find out about it until I reached Porthaven. The news must have arrived just after I left Quorge. I’ve been travelling so much this past year. I’m constantly behind on what’s going on.”

Quilla sat in the pew in front of Gabriella and turned to face the princess, hanging her arms over the back. “I hear wedding plans are in your future.”

Gabriella shrugged. “It gets Father and the old shrew off my back, so I guess so.”

“Is he nice, at least?”

“Oh, he is. I like him a lot, but I wouldn’t marry him if there weren’t other reasons pushing me.” Gabriella crossed her legs and leaned back in the pew. She frowned. “Quilla, I know you’ve probably had to go through this a few times already, and if it’s too hard for you right now, I understand, but…”

Quilla had a good idea what Gabriella wanted, but she waited for her to finish.

“Would you mind telling me what happened? What I’ve heard has been garbled at best. I’d prefer to hear from someone who was there.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Quilla took a deep breath. “Sure.” Once again, though, she was unsure just how much she should tell. How much about Corvinian? Felitïa? “Maybe let’s go somewhere a little more private though?” She nodded towards Gabriella’s two guards.

Gabriella smirked. “Oh right. I nearly forgot about them. My gracious step-mother supplied them for me.” She snapped her fingers at the guards. “Get lost. Both of you.”

“Your Highness we...,” one began.

“Of for fuck’s sake, I’m a better warrior than the two of you combined. I can take care of myself and don’t need your protection. Wait for me by the entrance.”

The guards snapped to attention, bowed, and left.

“Better?” Gabriella said.

Quilla smirked. “It’s a start, but you never know when someone else might come by. Come with me. Ardon’s given me an office to use until the funeral’s over. I’ve got some wine there too.” She wasn’t supposed to be drinking much of that right now, but…

“Quilla, you speak my language.” Gabriella hopped to her feet. “Lead on.”

Quilla led Gabriella into the back corridors of the Cathedral to her small office. There wasn’t much there except a table and a few things Quilla had supplied herself with. She offered one of the two chairs to Gabriella. When the princess had sat, Quilla poured them each a cup of wine. and sat.

The walk had given her a bit of time to think about what to tell Gabriella. Felitïa had said Gabriella might be a good ally, and Quilla had always gotten along well with her, the only one of Garet’s siblings she’d ever had a good relationship with before Felitïa.

“I’m going to tell you a bit more than I told the King and Queen,” Quilla said. “Can you promise me to keep it to yourself?”

Gabriella sipped her wine. “By telling me that much, you’ve given away there’s more to tell. I could go straight to my father right now without breaking any promises at all.”

Quilla nodded. “You could, but I bet you’re too curious now to do so.”

Gabriella smirked. “You got that right. Damn.”

“It could take awhile.”

Gabriella shrugged. “I don’t mind keeping my guards waiting.” She gulped down the rest of her wine. “As long as there’s more wine.”

Quilla smiled. She hadn’t felt much humour since Garet died. It was nice to feel some now. She poured Gabriella another cup and launched into the story.

Gabriella remained quiet except for the occasional smirk, chuckle, or sigh. She only interrupted once. “So let me get this straight. Garet was Felitïa’s accomplice breaking into the Volg apartments?”

Quilla grimaced. Should she have revealed that? Too late now. “Yes. That’s one of the things I didn’t tell the King and Queen. They don’t know.”

Gabriella laughed. “They better never find out, either. Gods, Garet was a character. I guess I’m not surprised to find out he was part of it. I’m more surprised to learn he wasn’t the instigator, but Felitïa was. I don’t know her, but I assumed she was the more level-headed one.”

“Garet could be a bit hot-headed at times, it’s true.”

“I never said it.” Gabriella smirked. “Please, go on.”

When Quilla finished, Gabriella leaned back in her chair and sighed. “Wow. That was quite...to be honest, I have no idea how to describe it. Felitïa really told you to blame her for everything?”

Quilla nodded. “She refused to come to the funeral.”

“Well, she has been banished. Do you really think they would let her in?”

Quilla shook her head. “No.”

“There you go.”

“But she could have tried! Everything she made herself out to be, everything I thought she was said she was the type of person who would demand access to her brother’s funeral. Hell, she could have used her magic to sneak in! Instead. she takes off to deal with her own problems and abandons me and everyone else. She also took Corvinian with her. She had no right to do that! None at all!” She banged her fists on the table, stood up, and started to pace.

Gabriella didn’t flinch. “Didn’t you say Corvinian wouldn’t accept you as his mother?”

“He just needs time. Time to spend with me, and he’ll realise who I am. He’ll come to love me as I love him! But he can’t do that with Felitïa dragging him to the other side of the fucking continent!”

“Perhaps,” Gabriella said. “Or perhaps he needs time away to figure things out for himself.”

“He’s ten years old, Gabriella. He needs a mother.”

Gabriella peered at her empty cup. The bottle was empty now, too. “Sure, but maybe he needs time to come to terms with that. He’s with Felitïa now. She’ll look after him, I’m sure.”

“Felitïa doesn’t know the first thing about taking care of children. She’ll walk right into danger with him. That’s what she does. Just walks right in.”

Gabriella gave a small, closed-eye smile. “Okay. If you say so.”

“Don’t patronise me, Gabriella.”

Gabriella sighed and put her cup down on the table. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t meant to be patronising. But I do think you need to accept that Corvinian needs time. He grew up knowing one mother, had her snatched away from him, forced upon another person claiming to be his mother and now there’s a third person trying to take that spot. He’s probably confused and still hurting at the loss of the mother he grew up with. Shit, I’d be the same in his position.”

Quilla turned away and took several deep breaths. She didn’t want to be angry at Gabriella, but she was tired of everyone always defending Felitïa.

Maybe Gabriella was right though, a voice at the back of her head kept trying to tell her. Maybe Corvinian did need time. “Maybe you’re right. But surely he should still be somewhere close to me, or me close to him. That way he can get to know me, come to realise I don’t mean bad for him.”

“Perhaps.” Gabriella stood up. “Let’s get through Garet’s funeral first, eh?”

Quilla slumped forward. “I suppose you’re right.” She leaned on the table. “I’m just a mess. And I haven’t even told you what’s happened here since we arrived.”

“Tell me later. I think you need some food and then rest. Maybe some more wine.”

“Oh no. Wine is the last thing I need. That was too much already.”

Gabriella laughed. “You never were much of a drinker. Garet and I would drain several bottles while you worked on a single cup.”

“And I’m less of one now,” Quilla lied.

“Then let’s go with the food and rest. Shall we head back to the Palace?”

Quilla nodded. “I should just let his Grace know I’m leaving.”

“We’ll find him together,” Gabriella said. “I wouldn’t mind seeing him briefly before we go. That’s technically why I came here in the first place.”

Gabriella held out a hand to Quilla, and Quilla took it. Together, they went in search of Ardon.