"Might I be of a.s.sistance? I'm quite good at getting through the castle without being seen. And if I were you, I wouldn't want to be seen like that."

Cyrene looked down at her torn nightgown that was wrinkled and splattered with her blood. He was right, of course. She couldn't be seen like this.

What if the King saw me? Or even worse, the Queen? Cyrene couldn't bear it.

"Please."

Ahlvie smiled crookedly at her. "This way."

She followed him through a back pa.s.sage that wound all through the castle. As soon as Ahlvie got her into the Vines, unseen, she thanked him, and then she rushed to her room and slammed the door with force.

Cyrene threw her ruined shift in a heap on the ground and buried her naked self under the goose down comforter. A rustle of someone pa.s.sing by her door made her get up to investigate to make sure she had locked it. She didn't want to be disturbed ever again.

As she reached her chamber door, a piece of paper stamped with the royal seal slid underneath it. She ground her teeth as she s.n.a.t.c.hed it off the ground and jerked it open.

WELCOME TO THE RANKS, WARRIOR.

She didn't know who had subjected her to this torture and then left this note, but she hated them. She would always hate them. She would hate them with every fiber of her being for making her suffer through that, for making her risk her life for some ill-brained cause. She was not a warrior, nor would she ever consider herself one.

But if they wanted to believe they had won the battle, she would show them that she could win the war.

Ahlvie watched Cyrene disappear down the hallway to her rooms before tucking back into the secret corridor. He didn't know what had possessed him to help her. He wasn't particularly susceptible to damsels in distress or the like, but something in her eyes had spoken of determination. He actually believed she would have gone strolling around the castle, looking like a beat-up drowned rat.

She reminded him a bit of himself when he had first arrived in this Creator-forsaken castle. He hoped that she could keep up the rebellious nature, but he doubted it. This place could leech the life out of a person.

Pushing the new girl out of his mind, he contemplated returning to his quarters to change before vanishing from the castle grounds once more. He jerked on his sleeve, and it ripped the rest of the way off. If he'd managed to keep both boots last night, then he wouldn't have to return to the High Order quarters. He would make it quick though.

He navigated the empty morning corridors with ease and then crashed into his barely lived-in room. He opened his wardrobe and saw that someone had laundered his clothing. Hopefully, the person hadn't gotten all the bloodstains out of his clothes from home. Every other article of clothing had the High Order logo attached to it.

How did anyone expect me to move around so easily in the city with a Dremylon D plastered on to all my clothing? Not a single person in Low market would talk to a High Order. Half the people in the Laelish wouldn't either.

After pulling on newish boots and a slightly less destroyed dark blue shirt, he left his room in a hurry. He careened around the corner and slowed his feet when he saw the hallway was occupied.

"Creator," he grumbled.

"Ahlvie," Reeve called down the hallway.

Reeve was the nicest of the High Order around Ahlvie's age, but he hung out with the pigheaded idiots-Rhys, Clovis, and Surien. Ahlvie cared little for other people at court in general, but those guys were the foulest lot.

"Have you seen Zorian this morning?" Reeve asked as he approached.

"Is he back from Carhara? Tahne is a rough sort of city," Ahlvie said of the capital city of Carhara.

"Came back last night."

He skirted around Reeve. "Perhaps he is still as intoxicated as I am."

Reeve narrowed his eyes. "You don't look too bad."

"You mean that you've seen me look worse."

"That's not what I meant," Reeve said, exasperated. "If you see Zorian, will you send him my way? We have an outstanding dice game."

"Dicing?" Ahlvie's eyes lit up. "Let me know when you play."

"I would if I wanted to lose."

Ahlvie smirked at him. "I'll tell Zorian about the dicing if I see him, and we'll find a time to play."

Reeve shook his head, but Ahlvie knew that Reeve would dice with him later. Ahlvie's fingers itched for his own dice to throw. He thrust them into his pockets and ignored the inclination.

He swung around to the back entrance to the High Order quarters, which the guys called the Flames. Guards were stationed at the exit. Most of them knew him by sight. Still, he could sneak by them at night. Considering the security of the castle, it could be done a little too easily, but it was convenient for him.

Ahlvie left the grounds on a path that ended in an unpleasant steep descent into the capital city. He wasn't sure how he had come back this way last night while completely obliterated. As he skidded down the slope, he saw a large body pa.s.sed out in the middle of the path.

Ahlvie laughed out loud and jogged down toward the man. Apparently, he hadn't been the only person sneaking in and out of the castle while inebriated.

"Hey!" Ahlvie called out. "Had a bit too much to drink, my friend?"

Rolling the man over onto his back, Ahlvie got a clear look at the man and then stumbled backward a few steps in horror. He fell onto the rocks and wretched up whatever was left in his stomach.

Most of the man's face was...missing.

Cyrene awoke the next morning, aching all over. She had tended to her wounds last night, and she was surprised to see her injuries were healing remarkably fast. She was still stiff and sore, but after a few steps, she managed to walk without flinching.

Two servant girls in long-sleeved white gowns arrived to help her dress in a sky-blue gown with cream lace sleeves. They placed a plate of toasted bread, seasonal berries, and a hard-boiled egg on her table along with a fresh pot of tea. She graciously thanked them before they departed.

After taking the last sip of her tea, Cyrene placed the porcelain cup on the matching saucer and stood from the sofa in her sitting room. She eased her damaged fingers into her plait and tried to loosen some of the strands. She had already woken up with a headache that morning with the memory of what had happened the night before still fresh. She shuddered at the thought of Kael and the warrior ceremony and hoped that no one else would find out about either incident.

Trying to push that out of her mind, she focused on her fast approaching meeting with Queen Kaliana. Cyrene would be given her official duties as an Affiliate today.

Cyrene wasn't certain where she was supposed to meet the Queen. Despite her fears, she opened the door to her chambers and gazed out into the empty hallway.

Her heart sank. No one was there to direct her, but at least there weren't masked figures. She wished she had thought to ask the servants. The next best thing would be to hunt down the directory from last night.

As she was about to start wandering the corridors, the door next to her room opened, and a pet.i.te girl no older than Cyrene with stick-straight blonde hair walked out in a pale yellow gown, her nose buried in a book.

"Um...excuse me," Cyrene called out.

The girl stopped abruptly and looked up from her book in confusion. "Yes?"

"Sorry to bother you, uh...Affiliate. I'm supposed to have a meeting with Queen Kaliana. Do you think you could direct me to her rooms?"

"Oh. Yes, of course, I can," she said with a bright smile. She closed the book and held it against her chest. "If you want to follow me, I can take you there myself."

"That would be most helpful. Thank you."

Cyrene fell into step next to the girl. She had eyes that were a little too big for her face and a splatter of freckles across the bridge of her nose. At the same time, her appearance was far from distinct, and Cyrene was sure her eyes would have slid easily over the girl in a crowd.

"I'm Affiliate Cyrene, by the way."

"I know. I was at your Presenting yesterday." The girl set a hasty pace as they walked down the corridor.

"I'm Affiliate Maelia Dallmer."

"So nice to meet you," Cyrene said.

"What kind of path do you hope for your Affiliate duties?" Maelia clutched the book tighter.

"I'm not certain what is available," she began carefully, "but I'd prefer to be placed somewhere I'll be able to travel. My sister is the Amba.s.sador to Kell for the Queen and is fortunate enough to be able to travel the world. Do you know Aralyn?"

She smiled meekly and shook her head. "I'm afraid not. I've been here less than six months."

"Oh. Then, you're not that much older than me," Cyrene murmured in relief.

She knew there were going to be girls around her age, but she hadn't thought she would be lucky enough to find someone on her first day. The girl's soft demeanor reminded Cyrene so much of Rhea. Maybe once Maelia broke out of her sh.e.l.l, she would also turn out to be someone Cyrene could be friends with.

"Are you from the capital city? I apologize for not remembering seeing you anywhere."

"No, this city is still foreign to me. I was raised in Levin. My family are Seconds." She used the slang term without a trace of emotion about being taken away from her family in the northern mountainous Byern city to enter into the First Cla.s.s.

Cyrene dealings with the Second and Third Cla.s.ses had been all but limited to the Laelish Market. She had been freaked out enough about moving into the castle without being transplanted into an entirely different city. On top of all that, Maelia had had to learn to adjust not only to an Affiliate's lifestyle, but also to the First Cla.s.s.

"Well, maybe I can show you around some, if we can find the time," Cyrene offered.

"I'd like that." A genuine smile crossed Maelia's face.

She turned them down another hallway with more decoration than the previous one. Oil paintings hung on the wall. The first one showed a beautiful countryside with rolling hills and gorgeous oak trees. Another one revealed what looked like the foothills of their very own Taken Mountains and the Keylani River running through the mountain pa.s.s. The next showcased an oceanic scene with rippling waves, soft white sand, and palm trees blowing in the breeze.

While staring at the beach scene, she could almost hear the waves crashing on the bank, feel the gentle sea breeze, and smell the salty air thick with sea spray even though she had never even seen the Lakonia Ocean. She lightly shook her head, trying to rid herself of the strange emotions rolling through her body. She must have read about the paintings in a book prior to this moment.

With difficulty, Cyrene tore her gaze away from the incredibly detailed designs plastered on the walls, and she continued her conversation with Maelia.

"Let's arrange to meet after I receive orders from the Queen."

Maelia fidgeted with her book as they approached the enormous wooden door at the end of the hallway. "I hope she lets you off easy. I'd love to see the city."

"Is she particularly stern?"

"Stern is not the proper word." Maelia's voice dipped to a whisper. "The Queen is power hungry on a good day, and today might be even worse. Perhaps I should not say so though." Her hazel eyes glanced anxiously at the closed door as if someone might hear her critique of the Queen.

"Why is she more so today?" Cyrene mirrored Maelia's soft tone.

"I've heard," Maelia murmured, drawing closer to Cyrene, "that the Queen is with child, and she announced such circ.u.mstances to His Majesty."

"Why, that's wonderful news!" Cyrene boomed. Maelia's hesitant peek at the doors made Cyrene lower her voice. "Isn't that wonderful news?"

"It's hard to tell. The last one ended in a miscarriage."

Cyrene's mouth popped open in shock. "She lost the baby?"

Maelia nodded solemnly. "So, you can see why today might be worse. The baby is good news but only if she can hold on to it. I think she fears she cannot."

"How terrible. Thank you so much for telling me. I would have hated to go in there blind."

"Good luck. I'm sure my warnings were unwarranted." Maelia placed her hand on Cyrene's shoulder. "You'll do great. King Edric and Prince Kael both seemed to like you after all."

Cyrene blushed. Had they been that obvious? "I'm sure they were both performing their duties in welcoming me as the newest Affiliate."

The coy smile on Maelia's lips told Cyrene that had not been the case. "I'm sure."

"I'll find you afterward. Will you be in your rooms?" she asked to divert the subject.

"Most likely. It was really nice meeting you, Cyrene. I can't wait for our adventure."

"Me either. It was so nice to meet you as well, Maelia."

The girl scurried back down the hallway and around the corner.

Cyrene didn't know what it was, but she already liked Maelia. With Rhea gone, Cyrene had been afraid it would be a while until she made friends. She had heard stories of all the Affiliates being close, but those were countered with just as many tales of them hating each other and battling for favored positions.

Cyrene heaved the heavy wooden door open and entered the Queen's compartments. For all the inactivity of the corridors, people were bustling in the Queen's chambers. Affiliates and servants alike milled around inside-some speaking rapidly to one another, others with their noses buried in books, and still more writing furiously on loose sheets of parchment. The room reminded her of a beehive with a large round central room and other rooms branching off in various directions. A stained-gla.s.s mural overhead depicted a fabled land with unnaturally beautiful individuals with wings sprouting out of their backs.

An athletically built woman with a face covered in freckles flowed gracefully toward Cyrene. "h.e.l.lo, Affiliate Cyrene," she said with a bright smile. Her pale green dress brought out the stark quality of her frazzled fiery-red hair, which hung loose to her waist. "Pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Affiliate Catalin, Director of Internal Affairs for Her Majesty, Queen Kaliana."

Cyrene dipped a small curtsy to the woman. "Good day to you, Affiliate Catalin."

She had heard her mother complain frequently enough about the woman who had been the DIA under Queen Adelaida for King Maltrier. DIAs expected nearly as much respect as the queen and the consort, but they frequently abused the authority vested in them.

"Queen Kaliana is meeting with His Royal Highness, Prince Kael, at the moment."

Cyrene tried to keep the tightness from her mouth at the mention of his name.

"I am to begin with your training until she is ready for your a.s.signment. Follow me, please." She briskly walked across the marble floor.

After crossing the busy foyer, Cyrene entered an immaculate small square room on the far end of the chamber. Books lined the built-in shelves of one wall in descending height order. Sheaves of paper were stacked carefully in neat piles, and emerald-green feather quills were perfectly aligned. A practical wooden desk sat against the far wall, and two matching wooden stools stood before it.

Catalin took a seat behind the desk and gently folded her hands on the desk. "Please sit," she offered graciously.

"Thank you very much."