Karna sat behind his desk, his two sons on either side of him, while Neos stood before him, flanked by Warden, whose posture was relaxed. In the far corner of the room, Kumo had his back to the wall, his head lolled to the side as if her were sleeping. The two members of the Lamb’s Guard were putting on an act. If Neos made one wrong move, he would be dead before he could even touch their patriarch, though Neos seemed uninterested in the others; his sole focus was on Karna, his eyes locked onto the patriarch with an unnerving intensity.

  “Mr. Neos, you have traveled far to Fallen Petal, in hopes of speaking with me, so do not waste another moment. Why have you come?”

  Neos straightened himself before offering a deep, formal bow to Karna. “Thank you, Patrairch Karna, for meeting my request for an audience with you. I’ve come to gain an understanding of what took place in the courthouse on the day of Domino Adeola’s trial.”

  Bomin did not miss the way his brother’s shoulders tensed, nor the sharp glance their father cast at him. “Court transcriptions are kept in The Conucopia and are accessible to all. I’m sure a scribe of Davar will be more detailed than I when recalling prior events.”

  “I had thought the same, but it would seem the transcriptions I need have been stowed away elsewhere, as I can’t find them,” Neos replied, returning to his former posture slowly. His words carried an accusatory tone, yet Karna did not visibly react. “I was forced to seek out the others who had been alongside you in court, yet all three of them refused to speak with me, so that leaves you, my patriarch. Can you shed light on how my daughter’s murderer escaped due punishment?”

  “As I had told you that day, we acknowledged the evils Mr. Adeola committed, but we also found a sliver of hope for the man. If we can help him repent of the evils he committed, then we will have created a reformed man with the potential to do good. There is no reason a silver lining cannot come out of tragedy.”

  “A silver lining for whom? What had Domino said to you? What lies fell from his mouth that convinced you to believe him? That man isn’t sorry for killing my Mina! He feels no regret, and your gullibility allowed him to escape the consequences of his actions!” Neos stopped when his chest hit the edge of a sword. He pays Warden no mind, as his crimson eyes swirled with hatred. “Tell me what truly took place in the courthouse!”

  “Justice guided by compassion instead of flared anger,” Karna responded. “You have become a blind man, and should you continue to be as you are now, you will never see the light again.”

  Warden switched his stance when Neos grabbed the blade of his sword, but he just as quickly motioned with his head for Kumo to stop, as the man had been ready to attack with his concealed knife. Neos did not want to start a fight, at least not here. No, the man gripped the sword hard enough for its edges to cut into his palm, allowing blood to flow down the blade before tossing it away from him as he spun around.

  “So be it,” Neos said.

  —————

  “Father, you must overturn the court’s decision,” Benaiah pleaded. “You’re allowed to retract your vote at least once, with proper cause. The safety of our people is sufficient.”

  Karna waved his hand dismissively. “You are overreacting, my son. It’s improper to allow yourself to be easily frightened by a mere flared temper. When you become patriarch, you will have to face many people angry with the decisions you make, and you can’t allow yourself to be cowed by them.”

  “This is not simple anger,” Benaiah said in exasperation. “What was in Neos’ eyes was pure wrath.”

  “I agree with Benaiah,” Bomin interjected. Karna turned to look at his younger son and noted the weariness seeping off the young man. “That was a declaration, was it not? The cutting of his hand on Warden’s sword.” He looked over to the man, seeking confirmation.

  Warden looked down at his sheathed sword, his hand resting on the hilt as his fingers drummed in contemplation. “Kumo, what did you notice when escorting Mr. Neos out of the mansion?”

  “He wants war,” Kumo replied, his eyes closed, as he leaned his head against his arms. He had once again retaken his position in the corner, but there was a new air of tension surrounding him. “The man uttered not a word, but I could see it in the way he walked.”

  Warden nodded. “My Scion, it's as Son Bomin and Kumo say. Neos will return, but next time it will be with an army behind him.”

  Karna looked into the eyes of Warden. He trusted the man, even if Karna despised the position the man held. Still, the Neos Clan was small, and should the man come charging in with the intent to spill blood, he was confident the Lamb's Guard could fend them off. “I will consider all your offered words. For the meantime, let it be known Neos is no longer welcome in this city.”

  —————

  “My father had never known battle. Heartsease hired escorts from Marmor to address any conflicts arising from criminals attacking our people performing charitable work. He didn't understand how much he was underestimating Neos, nor did he realize Neos was testing him.”

  “Was Neos’ visit to our city a way for him to scout around?” Cian asked. It made sense that the man walked the streets to understand the landscape, and that visiting the mansion allowed him to see how secure it was.

  “Most definitely, but he also wanted to see what truths my father would reveal.” Bomin’s face turned grim. “When he visited The Cornucopia, what he failed to mention was that he had burgled its fifth floor. Davar is secretive about the fifth floor, but they had confirmed they had kept the original transcription for Domino's trial there. Somehow, Neos had found a way to access an inaccessible floor.”

  “If he had done that, then why interrogate our grandfather?” Keegan asked. “What point was there to the confrontation? Wouldn't it have been better for him to keep out of sight if he wished to gather as much information as he could for an assault on the city?”

  “Neos was a man of character,” Cian replied. “He wanted to see if our grandfather was cut from the same cloth.”

  From what his uncle had been telling them, and what Cian remembers from school, Neos rightfully brought his grievances before the court, as is the law. The clans all put their faith in the tribes to guide them—those descendants from the eight who had saved their ancestors. When the court failed, when a patriarch told Neos he would receive no justice, it must have hurt him. Furthermore, the people of Davar can be meticulous in their transcriptions. It is in their blood to be documenters, so when Neos read what happened in the court during deliberation, he saw his daughter’s life reduced to a simple favor between tribes. He had wanted to give Karna a chance to prove the tribes were still worth his loyalty, and Karna had failed.

  “The one threatening us may not be Neos, but they are someone following in his footsteps, or inspired by them. He wasn’t the first to feel wronged by the tribes, nor will he be the last. I pray we can apprehend the ones responsible for the Adeolas and stop whoever is trying to bring about the downfall of Fallen Petal. Afterward, we must be cautious with the decision we make. Perhaps in doing so, we won’t rile up as many feathers, and fewer people will be angry with the reigning patriarchies and matriarchies. For now, rest my children. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring, and this might be the only time we have peace, so let us revel in it while we can.”

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  —————

  Mila bit the inside of her cheek, the pain doing little in the way of keeping her awake. She has been made to sit on her knees for hours now inside her husband’s study. Her legs have grown numb, and her back aches from how straight she has been forced to keep it. It would be manageable if they allowed her proper rest each night, but they insist on depriving her of sleep. She is grateful that her children do not have to suffer as she does, though it is of little comfort, as they have been locked away in the stables. They sleep on the bare floor, eat what the horses do not finish, and drink from their barrels. It is just enough to keep them alive, yet that silver lining is what she grasps onto. Their captors have not touched the children, so as uncomfortable as they are, they are safe.

  The sound of someone approaching caused Mila to turn her head at the same time as the woman at the desk. They watched as a man Mila had not seen before entered the study, and her eyes widened when she saw a black serpent trailing behind him. “Patriarch Bomin and his sons are returning home,” the man said. The serpent was similar to the one dozing at the feet of its female master, which meant he was also a Sinful Cultivator. Was he the one who killed Domino and his clan? Also, was it always possible for the two of the same types of conduits to exist? Did it mean something that both of them wielded serpents? Many questions filled her mind, and dread seeped in when she realized the man had spoken about her husband and sons.

  Her husband and sons had left with a small party of soldiers and Kumo. Should they enter the city, they would be no match for the enemy soldiers. Even if they learned that an invading force was occupying Fallen Petal, it would do little to help them. Bomin’s only chance would be if he sought aid from nearby clans or if he could send word to Halo or Noctura. Someone would first have to get word to him, but there is no one… Mila and her children are the only ones left.

  “This means you will be heading to Port Nora Zora?” the sorceress asked, not looking up from the parchment she scribbled on. For as long as the enemy has been staying in Fallen Petal, Mila still has yet to learn the name of the woman. In each conversation Mila listened in on, it seemed as though the enemy was careful of what they said in front of her, so she reverted to calling her the sorceress. “It does. I’ll send word when I’ve accomplished my task.”

  “Do us proud.” The man gave a curt nod before taking his leave, his serpent hissing as it trailed after its master.

  “You must be happy to hear that your husband and eldest sons are coming home,” the sorceress said, her words carrying a teasing note. “I’m delighted as well. When I first introduced myself to the patriarch, he was unaware of who I was. It will be my pleasure to make proper introductions this time around.” Mila did not respond. The discoloration around her face was a reminder of the consequences of speaking.

  She was allowed to return to her youngest children after the sky had significantly darkened. It took a considerable amount of self-control for her to walk upright, a facade to show her captors they had not weakened her, and also to quell her children’s worries. “Mother!” her children exclaimed, embracing her the moment the stall door opened. Mila encircled her duckling within her arms, shifting to take Dove from Bedisa. She herded the children to the corner of the stall, where they gathered around her when she slid against the wall to the floor. The family stayed like this until Dove began to fuss and Mila tended to her.

  Their nights in the stable went much the same. Mila would try to lift her children’s mood by playing simple games and singing songs, then a soldier would come to toss their meal for the night onto the floor and let them take turns drinking water from the horse’s barrel nearby. During their dismal routine, Mila told them what she had learned from the sorceress, and never had she seen her children’s eyes sparkle as much when they thought their father and brothers were coming, which meant they would be rescued.

  “Father is strong!” Destin exclaimed, lifting his fist into the air whilst trying to puff out his chest. The action shifted his clothing, and Mila frowned as she noticed their lack of food was becoming more prominent; her youngest son’s garments fit him much looser than was customary. “Kumo is also traveling with them! Together they can take down these nasty cultivators and avenge our city.”

  “They will come for us and all will be well,” Bedisa said. Mila nodded at her two children, allowing them to bathe in their newfound hope.

  Later, when her ducklings were sound asleep, Mila quietly prayed.

  As much as she wished for her husband to save them, it was better that they did not arrive in Fallen Petal. She needed a miracle—some intervention to pull her husband off course, if only to buy more time. The sorceress intended to kill them all, but maybe that can be delayed. Mila did not know when it would happen, but further tragedy was heading their way; she could feel it in the pit of her stomach. She just prays that, if she and her husband cannot escape, her children can—that would be enough.

  —————

  “Nathaniel… Nathaniel, I need you to wake up, sweetheart,” a woman’s voice said, rousing the young boy from sleep. Nathaniel blinked owlishly as he rubbed his eyes to clear his vision. He blinked a few times until he could make out the image of Mrs. Lamiadis standing over him, a low-burning candle in hand. She was smiling down at him, and the older woman had the type of smile that caused one to break across Nathaniel’s face. He liked her. Mrs. Lamiadis was a lovely grandma to the children, and she enjoyed baking cookies for them. Hers were the first cookies Nathaniel had ever tasted—the mere thought of them almost causing his mouth to salivate. It made him wonder if that was why she was waking him—to come and taste some new treats she had made.

  “I need you to keep quiet, sweetheart, so as not to wake the other children,” she said, helping him to get out of bed. “Now, put on your slippers and follow me.” Nathaniel obediently did as he was told, and afterward she guided him out of the room he shared with several other children.

  “Where are we going?” Nathaniel asked, noting after some time that they were not heading in the direction of the kitchen. They appeared to be heading toward the storage house that is connected to the main building on the western wing. The children are not allowed anywhere near the storage house because it is filled with towering shelves holding all the necessary supplies to maintain the orphanage. It made him uncomfortable that he was where he was not supposed to be, and he clenched Mrs. Lamiadis’ hand tighter and began fiddling with the bracelet Son Cian had gifted him. “Daughter Seraphina has come to collect you, sweetheart.”

  Nathaniel instantly perked up upon hearing the name of the pretty woman who had helped to save him alongside Son Cian. Daughter Seraphina was kind. She would visit the orphanage on occasion, and on those days, classes would be halted as she engaged all the children in a day of play. Whenever she saw Nathaniel, she would smile and open her arms for the grandest of hugs. He was excited to learn why she had called for him. Would they be spending the day together? Nathaniel would enjoy that. Daughter Seraphina was warm, and she smelled like candy, or what he heard someone describe as honeysuckle.

  They walked down one corridor after another until they reached a solid wood door that Mrs. Lamiadis had to unlock with a key. Past the door, Nathaniel’s eyes widened in wonder as he took in all that the storage house had to offer. It never occurred to him how wealthy the orphanage was, and he wondered whether, by proxy, he would be considered wealthy as well. The leaders must have been affluent people, now that he thinks about it, if they were always seen as well-fed and their clothing was always clean. Their persons were a stark contrast to those of Nathaniel’s clan. His people were dirty, starving, and never had nice things unless they stole them from the leaders when they were not looking. It made him feel proud that his mama was able to get him out of the underground. Thinking about her made his chest feel heavy, but Nathaniel remembers that he told himself he would find her. Perhaps Son Cian and Daughter Seraphina could even help! Nathaniel just needed to wait until he grew some because he needed to become stronger before he could fight the leaders, then his mama could come with him to the orphanage, and they could be wealthy together!

  “Hello, Nathaniel,” Daughter Seraphina greeted. She stood outside a large carriage, two escorts on either side of her, as she looked at the young child with the kindest of expressions. Nathaniel did not hesitate to let Mrs. Lamiadis’ hand go as he ran to clutch at Daughter Seraphina’s waist. He hugged her tightly and felt warm fingers card through his hair. “Nthaniel is under my care from here, Mrs. Lamiadis. Thank you for your service. You are dismissed.” Mrs. Lamiadis bowed before taking her leave. “Come now, Nathaniel,” Daughter Seraphina said, grabbing the child by the hand and guiding him up the steps of the carriage. Once inside, Nathaniel made himself comfortable on the bench seat, and Daughter Seraphina followed afterward, sitting beside him, to which he naturally tucked himself into her side.

  “Where are we going? Is it somewhere fun?”

  Daughter Seraphina soothingly stroked his side, the action causing his eyes to flutter low as he just remembered how tired he was. He had been woken up in the middle of the night after all.

  “I’m taking you home, Nathaniel.”