Zandrue tossed her bag at the foot of the bed. “It’s not very big.”

“Elderaan said any new supplies for you are my responsibility,” Felitïa said. “I’m afraid I don’t have enough money to get you a bed. We’ll have to share for now.”

Zandrue shrugged. “We’ll make do. Don’t worry. I don’t need a lot of space, and I only occasionally kick in my sleep.”

Felitïa laughed and sat down on the bed. “That was a joke, right?”

Zandrue didn’t answer, just smirked, and went over to the wardrobe. “I guess we’ll share this too. Good thing I don’t have much.”

“I like to travel light,” Zandrue had said earlier. They had gone to pick up her belongings at the inn she had been staying at, and Felitïa had been surprised by how little she had.

“Do you do a lot of travelling?” Felitïa had asked at the time.

“You could say that.”

“By yourself?”

“Usually.”

“For how long?”

“Years and years.”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen. Yeah, I started young.”

Felitïa had tried to question Zandrue more about her past, but Zandrue had remained evasive.

Zandrue was now at the wardrobe and opened it. “I guess we’ll each take one side.”

“Sure,” Felitïa replied. “I was thinking, once you’re unpacked, I could show you down by the lake. I know a really good place for walking. I go there from time to time to clear my head and practice my concentration. It’s not as good in the winter, of course, but...well...I thought it might be a good place to go together. Not many other people go there, so it’s private and...”

Zandrue looked over at her, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah, sure. Maybe we’ll go there sometime.”

Felitïa smiled.

“Uh, Asa...” Zandrue indicated the wardrobe. “Did you know you have a sword in here?”

Felitïa put a hand to her mouth. She had forgotten that was there. She had left it leaning in the corner so long ago, and barely paid it any mind these days.

Zandrue reached in and pulled the sword out, turning it in her hand, testing the balance. “Shit! This isn’t just any sword.”

Felitïa gulped and tried to figure out what to say.

“Asa, you’ve got some major explaining to do.” Zandrue was examining the hilt. “This is a royal sword, the kind Princess Gabriella or Annai might use. Or...” She lowered the sword and looked over, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, at Felitïa.

“Well...” Felitïa said. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

The sword had been a mistake.

All she had wanted for as long as she could remember was to be a wizard, but her mother arranged for her to be trained for the priesthood instead. She tried that for two years before she finally decided she’d had enough and she should just run away. Ardon caught her on her first attempt, but she convinced him not to tell her family. Over the next couple months, she gradually convinced him to help her. He arranged for a ship to take her from Arnor City and a merchant caravan to pick her up in Porthaven and help her reach Quorge—the City of Wizards, Ardon called it, the perfect place for her to be.

The prospect of travelling across the continent excited her, but it also terrified her. She didn’t know what to expect. She had never experienced anything beyond Arnor City, and little of the city beyond the Palace and the Cathedral of the Gods. All she knew were the few stories Ardon or her father told her and what she could find in books—but these things were mostly tales of adventure. She had come to think of travel as danger-fraught, with bandits, goblins, Volgs, and other monstrosities waiting around every bend of the road and over every hill.

So she brought the sword with her. She wasn’t sure now just what she had been thinking. The sword had been a gift for her tenth birthday just a few months earlier. It was tradition to give all royal children their first sword at this time as a sign that they would soon begin training. Of course, they weren’t expected to be able to use the swords yet. These were the swords they would one day wear once they were fully grown and fully trained.

Felitïa knew she would be completely unable to defend herself with it, so just why she had dragged it along, she couldn’t now say other than it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

Once it was clear that the reality of travel was less exciting than the stories would have one believe, she had entertained idea of selling the sword, but when she told Emund, the senior merchant, her plans, he absolutely forbade it. It would be too easily recognised, he said. She had put up a bit of a fuss at the time that she was now quite embarrassed by, but Emund had been absolutely right. So she kept it hidden the entire time she travelled with the caravan, as Emund was the only one who knew her true identity.

After arriving in Quorge, she had been on her own for several weeks, and several times during that period, she once again considered selling the sword. But by then, she had learnt to trust Emund in these matters, and so she still had it.

And now Zandrue had found it. It had been bound to happen eventually. It was probably for the best it happened now.

“Go on,” Zandrue prompted.

“I think you’ve already guessed, haven’t you?” Felitïa said.

Zandrue didn’t reply right away, but the feelings of astonishment radiating from her pretty much confirmed the answer. She came over to the bed and sat down beside Felitïa, placing the sword down on her other side. She leaned in close to Felitïa, her face almost touching Felitïa’s, her deep blue eyes staring into Felitïa’s. For a moment, Felitïa thought Zandrue was going to kiss her, and her heart rate quickened. But Zandrue only sniffed a couple times, then sat back again. “You’re her, aren’t you? The missing princess. Either that or you killed her and took her sword. I’m leaning towards the former.”

Felitïa sighed. She hoped Zandrue thought it was just a sigh of resignation—at having to admit her identity—and not because she was disappointed at not being kissed. She looked at Zandrue and forced a smile. “Hi.”

Zandrue breathed out slowly. “I guess that explains why you’re convinced I’ll be safe here. If the old man has successfully hidden you here, he must be better than I thought. So what do I call you?”

“Asa in public, but you can call me Felitïa in private or around Elderaan.”

“Anyone else know?”

“Agernon. He’s another wizard, one of Elderaan’s friends. And Drummor. He’s one of my friends, and Agernon’s apprentice.”

“The cute boy you were talking to that first day I came into the shop?”

Felitïa’s heart dropped. She looked away from Zandrue. “That would be him.”

“Something between the two of you?”

Felitïa glared back at her. “No! He’s just a friend, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I figured that. I was just teasing. He’s definitely into you, though.”

Felitïa groaned. “I know.”

Zandrue chuckled. “I might have seen you turn him down last week. Told him you couldn’t go with him to the festival because you had something or other to do with the old man, and then promptly asked me to go with you. Good thing he’d left by then. Now you want me to go on walks in private locations by the lake. You’re not very subtle.”

Felitïa blushed and buried her head in her hands. She groaned.

“Look, Asa...Felitïa...whatever. I’m flattered, but just friends, okay?”

Felitïa nodded. “Right, sorry. I’ve got my studies to think about anyway. I shouldn’t let myself be distracted by things like that.”

Zandrue shrugged. “That’s maybe going a bit far.”

They sat in awkward silence for a few moments, then Zandrue leapt to her feet.. “So! This sword.” She picked it up, and began to swing it experimentally, slowly at first, then taking faster swings and stabs at the air. Her movements reminded Felitïa of the movements she remembered seeing her sister Gabriella and her brothers make during their practices.

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

“You know how to use it?” Felitïa asked.

Zandrue stopped and turned back to face Felitïa. “The swords I trained with were much heavier, so it feels a little weird to use. But with a little practice, I suspect it would be better suited to me than those were. Honestly, if I’d had a sword like this, I would have kept up practice. I’m a little jealous, actually.”

“It’s yours,” Felitïa said.

“Oh no, I couldn’t—”

“No, really. You can have it. I can’t use it, so with me, it’ll just sit in that wardrobe and rust.”

“Thanks! I take it you don’t have a scabbard?”

Felitïa shook her head.

Zandrue shrugged. “Oh well, I can’t wear it around town, anyway. Almais would run me in without hesitation and then you’d be found out. So even with me, it’ll spend most of its time in that wardrobe.”

“I do have some cloth you can wrap it in.”

“Great, let’s wrap it up and you can show me that place by the lake. I’d like to practice a little.”

Felitïa jumped to her feet and went over to the wardrobe.

Zandrue ran a finger along the edge of the sword. “It’s a little dull. I suppose you don’t have a whet stone either, do you?”

Felitïa wasn’t sure what that even was, though she could guess from the context. “Sorry.”

“Just one more thing to add to the shopping list then,” Zandrue said. “Does it have a name?”

Felitïa shook her head. “Should it? I always thought it was really silly that Garet named his sword. I think my other siblings might have named theirs too, but they didn’t advertise it the way he did.”

“Just something to think about,” Zandrue said.

Felitïa took out the cloth she had originally wrapped the sword in all those years ago. She still had the ties as well. Zandrue placed the sword down on the table and Felitïa began to wrap it. “Zandrue, since you know two really big secrets about me now, I don’t suppose...maybe...you could...”

“No,” Zandrue said. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Felitïa. In fact, despite how short a time I’ve known you, I probably trust you more than I’ve trusted anyone. Truth is, I don’t usually trust anyone at all. But I can’t tell you. Please just trust me on that.”

Fear flowed from Zandrue again, so Felitïa decided not to press it. “Sure. Any ideas for a name?”

Zandrue shrugged. “Beats me, I’ve never named a sword before. What did Garet name his?”

Felitïa finished wrapping the sword and began to tie it. “Smasher.”

Zandrue laughed. “Smasher? For a sword? What was he doing with it?”

“Garet was never very bright.” Felitïa laughed.

“Yeah, let’s not name it that. Come on, let’s get going.” Zandrue’s fear was subsiding again, but Felitïa remained worried.

Just what terrified her so?

* * * * *

“Have you ever wondered what it’s like inside Lord Belone’s palace?” Zandrue asked.

“No,” Felitïa replied. “Why would I?” She dropped a couple coins into Darva’s bowl.

The old beggar grinned toothlessly at her. “Thank you, girl. A few more of these shiny things and I might be able to buy myself a nice pair of crutches, I might.” Felitïa glanced at where his missing leg should have been and melted. She threw a few more coins in the bowl.

“Let’s go look at it,” Zandrue said.

Darva reached feebly for his bowl and held it towards Zandrue, but she ignored him. She wasn’t even looking in his direction. Drummor dropped a few coins in instead.

“Look at what?” Felitïa asked.

“The palace,” Zandrue replied. “Come on.” Nearby, old Aleza Laswit walked by. Her three dogs growled and barked at Zandrue, pulling on their chains. With a scowl, Zandrue headed down the street.

Darva lowered his bowl. “Never gives me squat, she don’t.”

Felitïa smiled at him. “I’ll be back to see you again soon, okay?”

“You’s a good girl, Asa,” he said, pulling himself into a better position along the wall. He smiled at her. “Better go catch your friends.”

She looked up. Zandrue and Drummor were well ahead of her. She ran to catch up, nearly slipping on a small patch of melting ice. Spring was in the air, but there were still numerous signs of the harsh winter on the ground.

“I wonder how close we can get,” Zandrue said as Felitïa reached them.

“Felitïa’s a Folith,” Drummor said. “They wouldn’t think anything of her walking by the gates.”

“Unless they recognise me as the Folith who’s apprenticed to an Eloorin,” Felitïa said.

“You never go into that part of the city,” Zandrue said, “and they never come out of it. The chances of them recognising you are basically non-existent.”

“But not zero,” Felitïa said.

“Oh come on, let’s do it.”

“But what about us?” Drummor said to Zandrue. “We’re Eloorin.”

“I’m half-Folith,” Zandrue said. “I can probably pass. You can pretend to be our servant.” Zandrue strode forwards in a mock pompous manner. “All nobles have to have servants. We should get you some bags to carry or something.”

“Yeah, thanks for perpetuating that idea,” Drummor grumbled.

Zandrue tapped his chin. “Oh come now, you get to stick your nose up at a bunch of nobles. How bad can that be?”

“Zandrue, this is silly,” Felitïa said.

“So?”

“I may be a Folith, but I’m not dressed like a noble. Neither are you. We won’t fool them.”

“Of course we won’t,” Zandrue agreed. “But it doesn’t matter. They’ll just tell us to get lost, and we’re no worse off.”

“But if you know you’re going to fail, why bother?”

Zandrue shrugged. “I’m bored. I want to see Lord Belone’s palace. I’ve been here for months and haven’t seen it. You got something better for us to do?”

“Well, Elderaan—”

“Isn’t expecting us back for a few hours yet. Loads of time. Come on.” Zandrue grabbed Drummor’s hand and pulled him forward into a run.

Felitïa sighed and ran after them.

Lord Belone’s palace was located in the centre of the nobles’ quarter. A plain stone wall surrounded the grounds, which covered enough area to fit most of the rest of Quorge inside. The wall was tall enough to block the view of the palace itself. Zandrue led them along the street that followed the wall’s edge, occasionally waving at the guards above.

“Zandrue!” Felitïa said, and grabbed her arm as she tried to wave to another group of guards. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”

“Why?” Zandrue replied. “For waving to guards? There’s nothing illegal about that. Calm down, Felitïa. We’re not doing anything wrong. We’ll just go up to the gate, ask if we can go in, they’ll say no, and we leave. Simple as that. Nothing wrong with asking, is there?” She waved to another guard.

“She has a point,” Drummor said.

“I suppose,” Felitïa said.

Zandrue put an arm around Felitïa’s shoulders. “It’ll be fun, and you really need more fun in your life. I mean, you just spent your seventeenth birthday practising concentration skills, that’s how much you need more fun in your life. Come on, admit it. You find this strangely exciting.”

“Well…” She did find it oddly exciting. Her heart was beating in anticipation. It was probably Zandrue’s and Drummor’s excitement influencing her own feelings. Unfortunately, she wasn’t finding that a convincing argument.

The guards above never returned Zandrue’s waves, and the well-dressed Foliths they passed on the street just glared at them with cold eyes.

“Almost there,” Zandrue announced. “Let me do the talking.”

Two guards bearing the waterfowl tabard of House Belone blocked their entry to the palace gates. “May we help you ladies?” one asked.

“Yes, my good man,” Zandrue said in an exaggerated, pretentious voice. “We’d very much like an audience with Lord Belone, please.”

The guard’s lips curled in amusement. “Oh really? And you are?”

“My friend here—” Zandrue pointed to Felitïa—“is an aristocratic traveller interested in meeting the lord of this good land.”

“Ha ha,” the guard said. “Off you go, ladies. Nice try.”

Zandrue pouted. “Aw, really?”

“On your way,” the guard said.

Zandrue shrugged. “Oh well. Catch you later!”

Felitïa cringed as Zandrue walked away, holding back giggles. “Sorry,” Felitïa said to the guards.

“Just move on,” one replied.

When they were out of sight of the gates, Zandrue put one arm around Felitïa and the other around Drummor. “That was so much fun. Let’s do it again sometime.”

A passing horse whinnied and reared back. The driver of the carriage it was pulling scrambled to get it back under control. Zandrue sighed and moved to the side of the road. The driver calmed the horse and the carriage continued on its way.

“What is it with you and animals?” Drummor asked.

“They hate me. Let’s just get—oh hell. Just what we need.”

Startled, Felitïa looked to see what Zandrue was reacting to. A short distance down the street, Captain Almais and two other city watchmen were coming towards them. They must have noticed the commotion with the horse.

“Good morning, ladies,” Almais said as he reached them. He didn’t acknowledge Drummor. “I haven’t seen you around for a while, Zandrue. Been keeping out of trouble?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Zandrue replied. “You’ve put me under the care of the world’s grumpiest man. He won’t let me get in trouble.”

“Elderaan is not that grumpy,” Felitïa muttered.

Almais chuckled. “Regretting your decision to take her in yet?”

Felitïa shook her head immediately. “No, not at all.”

“Very good then,” Almais said. “We won’t detain you any longer.”

Zandrue needed no further encouragement and continued the way they were going. Almais and his men turned away, but Felitïa called out to him. “Oh, Captain?”

He stopped and looked back. “Yes?”

“Those men who attacked me. What’s become of them? I’ve been trying to get news for months, and I keep getting a run-around.”

“Lord Belone banished them from the city,” Almais replied.

Felitïa’s heart skipped a beat. “Banished? They’re not in prison?”

Almais nodded.

“But what if they come back?”

“Don’t worry, miss. My men have their descriptions. If they try to come back, they’ll be caught and turned away, arrested again if they resist.”

Felitïa nodded uncertainly. “If you say so.” She couldn’t imagine that it would be all that hard to sneak into the city unseen by the watch. It wasn’t like Quorge was a gated city.

“I do say so,” Almais said. “Now, on your way. Oh, might I suggest that you, Zandrue, and your other friends stay out of this part of the city? There are many here who have heard of you. They don’t very much like that, not only have you tainted yourself with wizardry, but you’re also apprenticed to an Eloorin. You’re better off keeping your distance. Besides, if you keep to your area of town, it’ll be easier for me and my men to keep an eye on you and make sure you’re safe. Just in case your attackers do try to sneak back in. Would be terrible if you got harmed without us being able to find you.”

Felitïa gritted her teeth. “Of course, Captain.”

“I’m glad we understand one another.” With that, he turned and continued on his way.

Felitïa watched him go. Had he just threatened her? It would be so easy to cloud his head a little, make him lose his balance, trip, and fall. A slight tilt of the head, a bending of the wrist, and the barest breath of a word. She stopped herself partway through the motions and watched as he and his men turned a corner. Zandrue would have done it.

Zandrue put an arm around her and squeezed her comfortingly once she’d rejoined the others and told them what Almais had said. “Almais is such an asshole,” Zandrue said. “But I’m sure everything will be okay. Those Darkers are probably long gone.”

Felitïa wasn’t so sure.