Felitïa’s head was quiet for once. It wasn’t just that there were no emotions nearby—there were probably quite a few. It wasn’t even like the times her telepathy waned. The voices in the Room—the ones that constantly called to her and named her friends—were silent too. There was nothing in her head other than her own thoughts, and sometimes it felt like there weren’t even many of those. It was beyond silent.

She had woken up screaming at first. It was a little like that time when she’d first met Corvinian and his powers had attacked her—the time she’d thought she’d lost her abilities. It felt like her abilities were gone.

She knew they weren’t really. They were just...constrained. But in a different way this time. And she hadn’t realised that at first.

With a little probing past the hole in the grey walls, she could easily find the magical field constraining her powers. It was strange. Compared to the grey walls, it was incredibly feeble. Even in her currently weakened state, she could tear it apart easily, let her powers return to her, stronger than they had ever been before. Yet at the same time, the field kept everything out, whereas the grey walls had let a little through.

She could tear the field apart so easily.

And gods, she wanted to. She hated the silence. It was terrifying. How the hell did people live like this? How did they get by not sensing other people’s emotions?

She had done it herself once, back before her telepathy had first manifested. But that was so long ago, and she had just been a child. Could she go back to it?

She would have to.

For now.

She could so easily tear the field apart, but she knew she mustn’t.

Besides, if she did, Mikranasta would just overpower her again, like she had the first time Felitïa had woken up. When Felitïa had instinctively lashed out and torn apart the field.

Gods, Mikranasta was powerful, especially given Felitïa’s weakened state. But even at full strength, Felitïa suspected her skills would be like a drop in the ocean compared to Mikranasta’s. The Isyar could make that field far stronger if she wanted to. She only didn’t because it was less stressful to maintain, but if she needed to, she could easily force Felitïa into submission.

But Mikranasta being able to stop her wasn’t the main reason Felitïa should not tear the field apart. It was there for a good reason. She couldn’t yet control her newly enhanced powers. She could delve more deeply into people’s thoughts without even realising she was doing it. She could be privy to private thoughts she had no business knowing. Worse, she could accidentally harm someone.

At least, so Mikranasta said. But Felitïa had no reason to doubt her. Jorvan, at the very least, trusted her. It was best to listen to her.

So she let the field remain.

She let the silence remain.

And tried her best not to look terrified.

Zandrue squeezed her hand. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Felitïa turned her head to look at her. She’d known Zandrue was there. She could see Zandrue. Hear her. Feel her hand. Yet she had still momentarily forgotten because she couldn’t sense her. Zandrue’s familiar presence was not in the Room in her head.

Felitïa squeezed Zandrue’s hand back. “Thanks.”

The audience chamber doors opened, and a herald’s voice rang out, “Her Highness, Princess Felitïa Asa Folith, Lady Zandromeda Armida, and Mikranasta of Isyaria!”

The chamber was sparsely occupied, only a few courtiers and a couple of guards, in addition to Anita on the throne and Akna standing beside her. Most of the residents of the palace were gone, either fled or possibly magically manipulated into leaving by Plavistalorik.

Felitïa stumbled into the room, supported on one side by Zandrue, and by Mikranasta on the other. She was still so exhausted. She could sleep again, but there hadn’t been much opportunity for it. So she was still overtired, but on top of that, she had drained herself of so much magical power. The prayer beads had let her tap into her deepest stores of power, but that power had still come from her. It was going to take her at least a week to recover, probably longer.

Crossing the room was harder than she’d hoped, and Zandrue ended up supporting her weight most of the way. Even when the reached the steps to the throne—where there was a large bloodstain on the carpet—and stopped, Zandrue couldn’t let go of her. When she had first asked for this audience, she had foolishly thought she’d at least be able to stand without assistance.

Anita, the new Lady of Belone, stood up and came forward. “Your Highness, you look ill.” She indicated the throne. “Please, have a seat.”

“Oh no,” Felitïa said. “I’ll be fine. You only just got that seat. I wouldn’t take it from you.”

“You’re sure? I don’t mind.”

Felitïa straightened up and nodded. “I’m sure.” Her legs buckled and Zandrue had to catch her.

“I really don’t think you are,” Zandrue said quietly.

Felitïa sighed. “Thank you, your Ladyship. I think I’ll take your kind offer after all.”

Zandrue helped her climb the steps and then lower herself into the throne. It was good to sit down, even if she felt exposed sitting in front of people in a throne. Her legs—her whole body really—were a lot weaker than she had been willing to admit.

“Better?” Zandrue asked.

Felitïa nodded. “For now.”

Zandrue smiled and moved to stand on Felitïa’s left side. Akna remained standing on the right, while Mikranasta circled behind the throne and out of sight.

Felitïa straightened her back as best she could and smiled at Anita. “Your Ladyship, thank you for agreeing to see me.”

Anita curtsied. “Your Highness, no thanks are necessary. We owe you a great debt. You and your friends have saved us from the evil that had embedded itself here. Seeing you is the least I could do.”

“Well, thank you anyway.”

Anita curtsied again.

“How is your mother, by the way?”

Felitïa wanted to think Anita looked sad at the question, but she couldn’t sense it, and that just made her judgement seem...unreliable. She was going to have to get used to reading people’s body language and not relying on feeling their emotions.

“Resting.” Anita frowned. “I confess I… I gave her a sleeping draught. She was very distraught over Danel’s death.”

Felitïa nodded. “That’s understandable. How did he die?”

“I killed him,” Akna said. “However, Siba thinks I was being controlled by Plavistalorik.”

“It’s best she not learn otherwise,” Anita said.

“I understand,” Felitïa said.

“What was it you wished to speak to me about, your Highness?” Anita asked.

“Just Felitïa’s fine. You know I’m not really into all that formal stuff.”

Anita blushed. “Of course. Felitïa. I guess I’m just getting used to my new role. And you are seated in the throne.” She grinned.

Felitïa chuckled a little, but the effort hurt the muscles in her chest, so she had to stop. “I actually wanted to talk to you about Plavistalorik. She was established here for many years under your father. She was presumably manipulating things from behind the scenes the whole time. There’s a good chance there are still people here loyal to her. We’re going to need to root them out.”

“I was worried about that,” Anita said, “but I’m not sure what to do. I could replace the whole staff, I suppose, but I’m loath to do that. It would be...cruel.”

Felitïa shook her head quickly, then regretted it as a wave of vertigo passed over her. “No, there’s no need for that.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“It wouldn’t work anyway,” Zandrue said. “The people Plavistalorik worked with could easily get some of their people in with the new recruits. We’d still be rooting them out.”

“I’m glad,” Anita said. “I mean, that I don’t have to let the whole staff go.”

“But don’t worry. I’ve got some ideas for finding them. I’ve had a little bit of experience with this in the Royal Palace. I can—” Zandrue stopped and looked behind her. “Oh, well yes, sure. He and I can… Right, of course. But I think he’ll be happy for my help. Okay, yes, of course, I’ll talk to him.”

Felitïa blinked a few times and tried to clear her thoughts and vision. Was there something wrong with her hearing. “What’s going on?”

Zandrue looked at her in surprise. Then she sighed. “Right, of course. Mikranasta is talking to us in our heads to bypass the language barrier, but she says you can’t hear it because she’s blocking you from that sort of thing.”

Felitïa slumped a little in the throne. It was not the most comfortable seat and keeping her back straight was proving difficult. “I see.”

“She’s been telling me that Jorvan will take charge of finding any Darkers in the palace. She says it’s part of his family’s job. I was trying to tell her that I can help with that, that I…” She groaned, and paused before continuing. “Yes, I understand what you’re saying. I just… She’s telling me Jorvan will decide who helps him and who doesn’t and he will come to me if he needs me.”

Felitïa straightened up. “Mikranasta, Zandrue is a good friend of mine. I trust her completely, and I have no doubt she can help root out the Darkers. I appreciate your zealousness to take control of the situation, but this is not your jurisdiction. I’m assigning Zandrue to assist Jorvan in these duties.”

There was a pause before Zandrue spoke. “She says, and I quote, ‘As you wish, Will-Breaker.’”

Felitïa slumped over again and rubbed her temples. Mikranasta seemed to like to take charge. She hoped this wasn’t going to become a problem.

Zandrue leaned over beside her. “You okay?”

“Mm.”

“I’ll coordinate things with Jorvan, and don’t worry. I can handle his mother.”

Felitïa looked at her in the eyes. “You sure? She’s unbelievably powerful.”

Zandrue smiled. “Child’s play.”

Felitïa rolled her eyes. “If you say so.” There was no doubt Mikranasta had heard every word they’d said.

Zandrue straightened up. “There was another thing we wanted to discuss, your Ladyship. It’s probably related to the Darkers.”

There was? Oh right! Felitïa had almost forgotten. Gods, she was exhausted and still not quite thinking straight.

“What is it?” Anita asked.

“Princess Sinitïa.”

“What about her?”

“You didn’t know she was missing, did you?”

“She’s here, isn’t she?” Anita said.

Zandrue nodded. “Yes, she is. But a couple months ago, when we arrived in Arnor City, she ran off with Meleng and Jorvan to Isyaria. Without her family’s knowledge or permission. They panicked, sent out word of her disappearance. They believed Meleng had abducted her, so wanted him caught and executed. You heard nothing of this? Patriarch Ardon himself was ordered to get the word out, and he’s generally pretty good at his job.”

Anita looked perplexed. Felitïa was sure she had too when she’d first heard from Zandrue about it. Anita shook her head. “But that doesn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t we hear of it?”

“That’s the big mystery,” Zandrue said.

“Hold on,” Akna said. “We’re a long way from Arnor City. Maybe word just hasn’t arrived yet.”

Anita shook her head again. “You don’t understand, Akna. The church has a way of sending messages very fast. It’s one of the things that gives them so much power in Arnor. A country this big could never hold together if we had to rely on standard methods of sending messages. We should have known within a day. Two at most.”

“Which makes me very worried about what’s been happening there since I left,” Zandrue said. “We’d mostly rooted out the Darkers, but there was still Lidda Plavin and the dragon. Rudiger…”

Felitïa reached for Zandrue’s hand. She didn’t need to sense Zandrue’s feelings to know what she was probably feeling now.

“Dragon?” Anita said.

“We’ve got a lot to fill you in on,” Zandrue said.

Felitïa only knew the barest amount herself. Zandrue had explained a bunch of it to her, but she had been too tired to keep it all in.

“Princess Sinitïa Alessia Deanna Folith and Meleng Drago!”

At the sound of the herald’s voice, the doors opened and Meleng and Sinitïa stepped into the room. Corvinian walked just behind them, his head hanging low. Felitïa wondered if that was because the herald hadn’t announced his name or if he was pouting about something else.

“Jorvanultumn, Fevionawishtensen, and Hedromornasta of Isyaria!”

Jorvan entered the room with a short, female Isyar beside him—presumably Fevionawishtensen. Hedromornasta walked behind them.

Meleng and Sinitïa only made it partway across the room before Sinitïa broke into a run. “Felitïa!” She bounded up to the throne and practically threw herself on top of Felitïa.

Felitïa shifted against Sinitïa’s weight. “Careful. I’m a little winded.”

Sinitïa backed up. “Oh, sorry. I was just really excited to see you. I’ve been to Isyaria!”

“I heard. It’s good to see you. I promise I’ll give you a proper hug when I’m feeling better.”

Sinitïa nodded, a wide grin on her face. “That’s okay.” Her hair was dishevelled, and the make-up on her face had been hastily applied. The gown she was wearing had clearly not been washed in quite some time and even had a couple tears in the sleeves. But she otherwise looked in good health.

Sinitïa turned and motioned to the Isyar. “Have you met Feviona yet?” She took Meleng’s hand. “She’s Jorvan’s fomase and our fomaze.”

Felitïa rubbed her head. “Sorry, I’m not following.”

Zandrue leaned over. “It’s an Isyar thing. It’s complicated. I’ll explain later, but basically, the four of them are all a family now.”

Sinitïa yanked Meleng along with her as she went over to the female Isyar who had entered with Jorvan. “Anyway, this is Fevionawishtensen, but she’s okay with us calling her Feviona.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Fevionawishtensen,” Felitïa said.

Feviona lowered her head in a slow nod. She was bruised and battered with several bandages visible under tears in her pale, skin-tight clothes—a uniform Felitïa had seen on numerous Isyar on Scovese. The Élite they were called, if Felitïa remembered correctly. There was a particularly large hole in the uniform’s side, revealing thick bandages.

“You’ve obviously suffered a great deal,” Felitïa continued. “Thank you for everything you did for the Hall of Knowledge.”

Feviona smiled and moved her arms and hands about in patterns that were clearly meant to be a visual language. One of Feviona’s first movements was to touch the top of her chest, which presumably was a way of indicating herself, the word I or me, but that was the most Felitïa could follow.

“She says she’s honoured to help,” Sinitïa said.

“My fomase is mute,” Jorvan said. “She can only communicate with signs.”

“She also doesn’t know Arnorgue yet,” Sinitïa said. “She only understood what you said because Mikranasta is using magic.”

Feviona signed something.

“She says she’s learning though,” Sinitïa said.

“Thank you again, Feviona.” Felitïa slumped forward, and groaned.

Sinitïa rushed forward and Zandrue leaned over her.

“It’s okay.” Felitïa straightened up. “Just exhaustion. I’ll be fine.” Now was definitely not the best time to have a big reunion like this, but Felitïa had wanted to see Meleng and Jorvan again. It might have been a bad decision, but she was grateful to see them. “We obviously have a lot of catching up to do. I need to rest a bit first, though.”

Sinitïa beamed at her. “That’s okay. We’ve got lots to tell you, like Jorvan’s going to teach me how to use magic!”

“He’s what?” Sinitïa using magic?

“Going to teach me how to use magic!”

Felitïa looked to Jorvan, and he nodded. Dear gods, what had he gotten himself into?

“Sinitïa has the greatest store of magical power I have ever seen in a human. More than most Isyar even.”

“Oh.” Felitïa couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Isn’t it exciting?” Sinitïa was practically bouncing up and down.

“Um...yes...it’s…great. What else do you have to tell me?”

“Meleng and Sinitïa are boyfriend and girlfriend,” Corvinian called out.

Sinitïa took Meleng’s hand again and beamed.

Zandrue leaned over. “That’s part of what it means to be fomasee.”

Before Felitïa could say anything, the herald’s voice rang out again.