Not lookin’ to backtalk you, but it just seems a bit more complicated than it needs to be. Just take the damned thing I’d say, no call for everyone to die. Yeah. You’re the boss. I’ll do it.

  -Ferro

  To be immediately surrounded by guards and pointed toward a nondescript patch of grass was not how I expected my introduction to Danfalla to begin. To then have the same guards demand papers and forms that I didn’t have from me set my heart beating. It wasn’t just that they wanted the papers identifying me as a human of Gale, a human of the empire, and the document stating that Lord Timmian had given me moving rights, but they also wanted much more. The elven men wearing shining silver armor with green accents wanted things called visas and express permissions by a lord of the state for our entrance, as well as signed documents of invitation. Dovik stood stoically throughout the questioning, handing over some papers that merely identified him, while I kept a good few paces away from the heavily armed men, hoping not to have a heart attack.

  They didn’t ask us to leave after we failed to supply the required items. They demanded that we didn’t and set four armed men to watch the ship while we were left to sit inside. Which was how I ended up sitting in a golden throne, looking up at a castle of dark stone and pointy spires, while Dovik keeps telling me that things are going to be alright.

  “Worst comes to worst, and we will just leave,” he says, patting my hand.

  “We can’t leave. They took my papers. Where am I supposed to go without those?”

  “I’ll bring you back to Grim and have someone make you some new papers. A citizen of Grim, how nice would that be?”

  I stare up at the man, causing him to wince.

  “I’m not helping, am I?”

  “What do you think?”

  A commotion at the end of the courtyard where we have been detained draws my attention. From the open doorway of a vestibule comes running a lizardkin woman wearing a very fine and expensive-looking dress of green. Jess ignores the two guards who try to step in front of her as she dives into the open doorway of the ship, appearing in front of the two of us, smiling with such beaming energy that my worry melts away a bit.

  “You finally made it!” she cries, running over and wrapping me up in an embrace. “I was starting to get worried you wouldn’t make it here in time. Dovik said he could find the way back to your farm, but the man is bad with directions.”

  “It’s good to see you,” I say, squeezing her tight. She pats my back a few times before breaking away.

  “How could I possibly be bad with directions if I found her and brought her?” Dovik asks, affecting offense.

  “Well, I wasn’t exactly thinking of geographic directions,” Jess says, causing Dovik to openly scoff.

  They both turn to look at one of the guards who has poked their head into the ship. The man looks between us all for a moment before sheepishly ducking back out. Jess informs us that Jor’Mari should be on his way soon, and finds a chair to sit in while we catch up.

  To hear her tell it, they haven’t gotten up to all that much while in Danfalla. Jor’Mari introduced Dovik and her to the duke, there had been some tension between Jor and his family, but things had smoothed over in the last couple of days. She was far more excited to hear about what we had been up to.

  I decided to tell her, leaving out very little about my time back home, just saying that my brother was a strong mage and that he gave me some instruction when Corinth came up. Dovik at least didn’t immediately contradict me. Keeping Corinth’s rank a secret feels a bit dirty, especially keeping it a secret from my friend, but he had asked me to. I can’t exactly disagree with his decision there. Arabella only approached me in the first place because she knew my brother. Given everything that has come from that, it isn’t difficult to see that having such a powerful man as my older brother might set things in motion that I could regret. Best to stay on the safe side.

  Jess looks downright jealous when we tell her about putting down the monster stampede. From her telling, she has been cooped up in the city, not allowed to go on any of the expeditionary raids that Danfalla has sent out into the countryside to begin scouting out the extent of the beast tide problem. Only those with significant travel and scouting abilities have been sent so far so that the state of movement across the Duchy can be mapped. There will be a muster of the adventurers in the city in three days to decide the plan of action. That is the time that the duke will close the duchy as well.

  While sealing off an entire duchy seemed strange to me at first, Dovik puts it in a new light. No one knows as of yet the exact cause of the increase in monster population and aggression, but it has been guessed to be located inside the Mari Duchy. Once the adventurers get to systematically culling the monsters in the duchy to push back the tide, the monsters might attempt to flee. Bad blood could be generated if hundreds of monsters were pushed across the border to ravage villages in the neighboring territories.

  I think that there would be more to regret than damaged diplomatic relations if that happened, but who cares about my opinion?

  Jess is getting into the swing of the conversation, talking about the interesting scenes she has found in Danfalla, when movement tugs my attention away. He steps out from the vestibule much the same as Jess had, but Jor’Mari’s swaggering walk is far more sedate. He wears a loose green robe decorated with silver roses, tied loosely around his waist by a thick wrap of purple silk, and strides barefoot across the grass. He dismisses the guards with a few words and a flick of his wrist, stopping at the outside of the ship and rapping on the domed hull.

  The dome of the hull slides away into the base, sunlight coming in to warm my skin. The courtyard is actually a beautiful garden, all of the plants sporting pretty flowers of purple, white, and pink. Our eyes meet, and I see a genuine smile spread over his face.

  “Welcome home,” he says with a short bow, stopping short. “Or, my home. This is my home; welcome to it.”

  “Aw,” Jess says as she stands and pulls me out of my golden chair. “Let’s show you the room we have picked out for you.”

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  “You already picked a room out for me?” I ask Jess, as she pulls me along, past Jor’Mari. It feels like I should be asking him that.

  “Weeks ago,” she confirms. “It’s in the east wing so you can see the sunrise. It was either that or the north wing, and there are no windows there. All of that part is built into the mountain.”

  I move along, caught adrift in the swift tide of her infectious energy. It seems silly all of a sudden to have been so worried before. I have the lord’s son as my teammate; was there ever really anything to worry about? Taking a glance back as I am pulled inside, I see Dovik patting Jor’Mari on the shoulder, shaking his head. Then the boys are gone, and I am led through the winding maze of the duke’s home toward some room.

  Jess takes me to a room outfitted with enough pink silk that I think a fairy must have exploded inside. The two leather upholstered chairs sitting around the oaken coffee table are pink, the sofa with its back pressed against the foot of the bed is pink, the duvet and all sixteen pillows on top of the four-post bed are pink, the two stone columns set into the far wall are painted pink(though they do clash tastefully with the whiteness of the rest of the wall), and the mural of ballroom dancers at some great feast painted on the ceiling is done in all different shades of pink. To be clear, I do not mind the color, not in the least, but like with anything, it is best enjoyed in moderation.

  A great relief washes over me as Jess tells me that the pink room is her room. She leads me to a room next to it and informs me that it will be my own. My relief is short-lived as I find this room to be equally as extravagantly furnished, but the predominating color is now a harsh and vibrant green. The pink room would have been better. I can just spend most of my time in my vault to shield myself from the assault of color.

  We spend time talking, passing the time until the darkening sky announces evening. Jor’Mari appears at my door, inviting us out to see a show that is being held in a theatre. I’ve never been to the theatre before, never even seen a theatre. The only shows I’ve watched before were put on at fairs or in dirty and overcrowded taverns. I am more than eager to accept the invitation on my and Jess’ behalf. Finally, I have a good excuse to wear one of the dresses that I bought back in Grim. Figuring that this is some kind of fancy occasion, I opt for the most expensive, and therefore best looking, of the bunch.

  I know I chose correctly from the first look the man gives me as he and Dovik come to escort us from the property. I wear black satin, the fabric cool and dyed so darkly that it might as well be made of the night sky, the only hint of color the symbols of golden thread woven throughout to accent it. The symbols mean nothing, complete gibberish trying to mask itself as magical runes. I knew it when I purchased the dress, and I used that knowledge to have the tailor make free adjustments before finalizing the purchase and even managed to haggle him far down from the original asking price. The shoes, dark and tall, were bought specifically to match the dress, I have stitched genuine golden thread into them to bring them more in line with the rest of the theme. Long-sleeve gloves of dark gossamer and an onyx hairpin embedded with monster ivory help to complete the look. All of it together is very expensive, but judging from how Jor’s eyes linger, and where they linger, worth every copper.

  To my shameful surprise, Jess outfits herself beautifully for the evening as well. She seems to have picked up an interest in clothing since I forced a real wardrobe on her, and with nothing better to do while being stuck in Danfalla, has expanded her wardrobe considerably. I doubt many would pick me out as a farmer’s girl when Jor extends me the crook of his elbow to lead me out of the manor to a carriage he has waiting.

  My elation lasts for all of sixteen seconds, dying as we pass a pair of elven maids who are all smiles until Jor’Mari is past them, those smiles becoming strained on his back, the daggers in their eyes moving to me. It happens more than once, the staff of the residence smiling to our faces only to scowl at our backs. I am still in the empire, I remind myself. They probably don’t like a human girl hanging onto the arm of their lord’s son.

  “Don’t mind them,” Jor’Mari says as we pass another pair, not even trying to mask his voice to keep them from overhearing. “Those looks are directed at me, not you.” I look up at him, finding him with his usual smirk, like the dirty looks at our backs feed him somehow. “Isn’t it grand, to be so important to someone that they can’t help but show their true feelings around you despite the danger of it?”

  “I could do without,” I tell him, spotting the carriage ahead as we make our way out and onto the street. “They don’t exactly seem happy.”

  He shrugs. “They’re a miserable lot. Pay them no mind; it is the best revenge.”

  The ride to the theatre is a bumpy one, the wooden wagon wheels clicking over cobblestone. Once we have made it from the safety of the northern district where the streets are kept clear, the carriage is made to constantly start and stop, slowly navigating around the choking crowd of people on the streets. With the sun down, it seems that even more people are out on the street, the cover of night pulling them out of the holes they hide themselves in during the day. Several times the driver barks curses at somebody blocking the horses, threatening to run them over, and once I think he even tried to do just that. Toward the end of the ride, a bottle smashes against the back window of the carriage; the thrower is never found.

  The ride leaves Jor’Mari burying his face in his hands in embarrassment by the time we pull up outside of a tall building with high and shining windows. A sign above the entrance reads, “Casterly’s Round” and a well-dressed man unbars the brass doors for us at our approach.

  Jor has a private box in the upper reaches of the theatre, or perhaps his family does. I begin to lose the flow of the conversation as we already cracked open some special wine that Jor procured from his father’s collection in the carriage ride over. He noticed in our last few times drinking together that I didn’t get to enjoy the sin as much as the others. High-ranking nobles also share my near-immunity to alcohol to hear him tell it, and so he found some special kind of liquor for me to enjoy all to myself as it would perhaps kill one of my friends if they were to indulge. I can’t question the efficacy, two swigs in and I’m already giggling my ass off at every joke, even the not-funny ones.

  The show is already underway by the time that we make it into the box. I pester Jor’Mari into explaining what we missed and somewhat keep up with his monologue as he whispers it in my ear. Not that it helps, the entire thing is performed in the elven tongue, and I don’t catch anything outside of a few names.

  Not that I need to follow the story to appreciate the performance. I find myself leaning against the edge of the balcony, staring down at the beautiful performers moving about on stage in gossamer silks of vibrant pastel colors so transparent that nothing is left to the imagination. They dance across the stage instead of moving, their bodies taut with bound energy and muscular precision.

  My favorite performer is a short elven woman wearing red silks, the lead of the show. She is approached by several men throughout the show as she travels toward a shining star in the sky. Each man tries to court her, entering into dances with her, but none can match her tempo, none able to even approach her quality. One after another she leaves them behind, panting on the ground, unable to continue. The look of heartbreak on her face each time wrenches my soul. The only one that begins to stand a chance of matching her in the dance is a beast she discovers close to her destination, the one that bars her way. She casts down that beast after a brilliant performance, climbing a lonely peak to stand beneath the light of her star, dancing all alone.

  I blink as the performance comes to a sudden end, the lights down on the stage winking out altogether. Thunderous applause fills the theatre, and I find myself clapping along, hollering from the high-up booth. Jess is right there beside me, cheering her heart out.

  Another swig of the wine burns down the back of my throat as I find myself having sobered too much throughout the performance. It feels like no time at all has passed since we arrived. To my delight, Jor leads us up to the top of the theatre where many well-dressed people gather. Beneath the stars, at a table set apart from the rest, we sit and drink for a while.

  The night is just about perfect, still young but with so much goodness to it already. It doesn’t occur to me that someone bumping into a chair might ruin the entire thing, might start a cascade that will lead to so much going wrong, and will lead to my eternal and ever-lasting nightmare, but it does. The back of Jess’ chair is bumped, her drink splashes and spills on her white dress, and our fate cinches the noose tighter around our necks. Why must I be the way I am?

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