I find the wall while Tatiana is training. I don’t mean to push too much. I just give it a little nudge. It’s like extending my ‘arms’ forward.

The same falling feeling I’d felt must strike Tatiana, because she nearly loses her head.

She’d been training with the black-haired woman named Dedre. The woman had taken a swing at the exact same moment.

Tatiana yelps, staggering forward.

“Hey!” Dedre plants a foot and twists, throwing herself backward to redirect the sword.

Tatiana hits the sand.

“You…” she snarls, pushing herself up.

‘Sorry!’ I blurt. ‘I was just seeing if I could!’

Tatiana punches the sand, swallowing whatever other curses she would rightfully throw my way.

“Are you alright?” Dedre drops before Tatiana. The sword lands in the sand. “Are you tired, Lady Tatiana?”

They’re training at a beach. There’s about a dozen of them out there under Gideon’s guidance.

His only instructions had been dividing everyone up into pairs and having them spar. With real swords, no less.

He stands across the beach, leaning on a staff. His black curls are loose on his back.

Apparently, all the people here are participating in the Stonewall Ceremony.

“Don’t call me that,” Tatiana grumbles, getting up. She looks past Dedre at Annandale, who’s watching from nearby. “I’m fine.”

Dedre straightens, her braid dropping onto her shoulder.

All of the women seem to have the same braid, I notice. Everyone but Tatiana. The thick braid across their heads.

Even the men have braids. But their braids are small, usually only out of a part of their hair.

‘This is why you shouldn’t be practicing with real swords,’ I chide as Tatiana gets her sword. ‘You almost died!’

I’m fully aware of the fact that she nearly died because of me. But I’m not above using unfair methods to argue my point.

Tatiana ignores me and nods at Dedre. Her breaths are shallow and her arms seem heavy.

It’s the binder she has on, I’m sure of it. When she put her armor on, she’d tied a bit of leather over her breasts. She put it absurdly tight.

I’d complained, as she was in obvious pain. She claimed it was ‘important’ and told me to ‘stop complaining.’ So I stopped bothering.

“May I ask you a question?” Dedre asks, getting her own sword.

Tatiana isn’t paying attention. She’s watching Gideon as he approaches.

Oh, is he upset with her? Has he also noticed my presence somehow?

“What is it?” Tatiana asks, waving her sword slightly.

Dedre taps her sword against Tatiana’s, barely committing to the attack.

The pane introduced her as: ‘Dedre Brailee. Knight. Not as good as she thinks she is.’ Which is almost hilariously subjective.

Tatiana knocks the sword away and threatens a swipe at Dedre’s chest.

Dedre doesn’t even flinch.

“Why did you convince the O’Hagan and Albanum girls to enter the ceremony?” Dedre asks.

Tatiana pauses, staring at the woman.

“I didn’t,” she says. “They joined on their own.”

They tap swords again, and Tatiana huffs.

“Swing your sword properly,” Tatiana demands. “Surely you don’t plan to fight like this when we share the arena in a few weeks.”

“I did,” Dedre says, tapping Tatiana’s sword again. “And you nearly lost your head.”

Tatiana groans, and I silently apologize.

“It’s risky,” Dedre says. “You girls in this ceremony.”

“Yes,” Tatiana groans. “You believe I haven’t heard this speech from everyone? They just joined because I joined.”

“The O’Hagan girl is to fight Markus today,” Dedre says. “He’s talking about killing her to make an example.”

Tatiana turns, eyeing a man on the other side of the group.

He had short blonde hair with a single tiny braid sticking out on the side.

I get a pane.

‘Markus Halliway. Knight. Ex-member of the Troupe of Dancing Axes.’

Oh. What’s that supposed to mean? I consider asking Tatiana, but I decide not to distract her. She’s annoyed enough with me as is.

“You know what he is capable of,” Dedre says. “He doesn’t care if the girl’s death brings war. In fact, he wants it.”

War? Between who?

“Tell him to try,” Tatiana says, turning to Dedre. “Tell him to enter that arena and fight as though his life is on the line.”

Is that confidence speaking? From what I’ve seen of Maya’s magic and her own confidence, I wonder I should be concerned.

Dedre lowers her sword.

“What?”

“This isn’t a joke for us,” Tatiana says. “We’re here for a reason.”

Something more than what Maya and Selena Grove claimed in the tavern? Knighthood? Something else? What could they be after?

Tatiana starts to speak again, but she’s cut off.

“Lady Tatiana.” Gideon has gotten to them. His red eyes gleam faintly. A single braid dangles on the side of his face. “Come with me.”

Tatiana tosses her sword into the sand and follows him away.

“Hey,” Dedre complains as they walk away. “That dulls the blade!”

Tatiana watches Gideon’s broad back as they cross the beach, approaching the tall dunes.

A new pane appears behind him as I wonder what this could be about.

‘Gideon Porish. A masked creature. Doesn’t want to do this.’

Masked creature. That’s the same thing Zaphenne got called. He didn’t get called that last time. Why? What doesn’t he want to do?

‘Tatiana,’ I hiss. ‘The information told me something.’

She says nothing.

‘Gideon is a masked creature,’ I say. ‘Just nod your head if that’s… something you know, I guess?’

She nods slightly.

“You’ve got your breasts tied up,” Gideon says, turning his head. “Don’t you, Tatiana?”

‘Tatiana?’ I blurt. ‘What the hell?’

Tatiana pushes hair out of her face.

“What would my mother say about you paying so much attention to my breasts, Gideon?”

Gideon barks out a laugh and leans on his staff.

“You’re all dismissed!” He yells with a wave at the others.

Is that all training is around here? I’d expected drills or at least some form of pedagogy.

“Tatiana, it’s necessary that I pay attention. You tie that band so tight, I’m surprised you’re able to breathe. I can hear your ragged breath across the beach.” He taps one of his ears and frowns at her.

Tatiana rolls her eyes.

“Don’t act like a child,” Gideon insists. “I have your best interest in mind.”

“Speak all you like, Gideon,” Tatiana says. “My ears are closed to your nonsense.”

“Your mother said that—”

“My mother is the most powerful being in the realm,” Tatiana cuts him off. “She doesn’t understand why I wear this binding.”

“I don’t understand why you wear the binding,” Gideon snaps. “You’re tormenting yourself for no reason.”

“I’ll see you at the ceremony,” Tatiana says, walking past him.

I’m silent as she follows a footpath through the dunes. Gideon doesn’t pursue her.

“You’re a nuisance,” Tatiana says after a while. “You know that? He’s only making a fuss because he saw me fall.”

‘Yeah.’

She stops and kicks sand.

‘Why do you tie them?’ I ask, trying to be polite about it. ‘Is it easier that way? To move or something?’

“I suppose it is,” Tatiana says. “But it has more to do with my anger. I want to be seen a certain way, that’s all.”

Oh. That’s more direct than I expected.

Ahead, the path leads into a forest. The sand slowly becomes dirt as Tatiana walks. She raises a hand to the taut leather at her chest.

I don’t say anything. I’m not sure what to say. I don’t want to jump to conclusions in any direction. And Tatiana isn’t the sharing type to begin with. I’m surprised she told me as much as she did.

‘What about Maya?’ I ask as she reaches the dirt. ‘Did you mean what you said earlier? That man seems dangerous.’

“Markus?” Tatiana scoffs. “I’m sure I could best him, which means Maya will have no trouble.”

‘Because of her magic?’

She nods.

“Fact is,” she says. “Maya is the only person in the realm who could ever match my mother.”

I struggle to take that claim seriously when one of the last things I remember Maya doing is chewing on a mug.

The forest opens up to a bustling street. People are gathered on either side, forming small crowds.

Several people in armor like Brevard’s are coming through on horseback. They’re flanking a few wagons.

Near the back, I see Tatiana’s father riding by a few other people. There’s something dark in his eyes.

“Father is furious,” Tatiana says, watching the horses and wagons pass. “Brevard should’ve met them properly instead of coming straight to meet me.” She leans against a wall.

I think of Tatiana’s reaction when Brevard showed up.

‘You love him?’ I ask. ‘Brevard?’

Tatiana says nothing for a while. Then she shakes her head.

“I care about him,” she says. “But I could never love him.”

I struggle to believe that, but I don’t argue with her.

Tatiana keeps moving.

I watch everything drift by. As the horses pass, people spread out into the street.

Tatiana eyes another wagon as it approaches and heads to it. As she does, the people immediately start separating again.

“Lady Tatiana?” An old woman at the front of the wagon says. She wears a black robe. Her gray hair sits loose on her shoulders.

The pane forms before her.

‘Morrigan Malvey. Mother of Castor. Old Queen of Harmun.’

“Grandmother.” Tatiana falls into the step with the wagon. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I sent word,” Morrigan says.

Tatiana grabs onto the side. With a hop and a yank, she manages to scale the side and land next to the woman.

“I did not give you permission to ride with me,” Morrigan grumbles.

“That’s alright.” Tatiana leans back and closes her eyes. “Wake me up when we’re home.”

“Where is Povenna?” The woman asks. “I’ve been riding for days and no one has greeted me. How many years has it been? Nearly ten?”

“Brevard is back,” Tatiana says. “And the O’Hagans are in Romenthe for the ceremony.”

“Stonewall? Brevard is involved?”

“No.” Tatiana taps her fingers against her knee. “Maya is. I am. And Selena Albanum.”

The woman says nothing for a few moments.

“I return after ten years,” she says. “How long has the boy been gone? A few days?”

“Thirteen months,” Tatiana says. “I missed him more than you.”

Morrigan laughs.

Tatiana opens her eyes as the wagon reaches a bridge. On the other side is a massive gate. Wood laced with steel and wide as a house.

“I heard about Kann,” Morrigan says as they pass over the bridge. The water below is clear, reflecting the gray sky. “It’s just you now, isn’t it?”

Someone yells from on top of the wall, and the gate starts to open. It slowly slides upward into the wall.

“Well,” Tatiana says. “I’m to be married next season. I imagine father expects me to bear him children. So he’ll have a proper heir.”

That soon? She hadn’t mentioned that to me. She spoke like she would be heir.

Morrigan says nothing.

“He doesn’t know?” She asks. “Child…”

“Neither of them know,” Tatiana says. “I am not a…” She takes a slow breath.

‘Know what?’ I ask stupidly.

They pass under the open gate. The inside is thick, at least thirty feet across. On the other side is a courtyard.

“Am I mature, grandmother?” Tatiana asks. Her fingers work into the leather at her legs. Her eyes are fixed ahead.

The woman straightens.

I think back to what Tatiana said. That she was foretold to die ‘before she matured.’ She’s twenty-two, I’m pretty sure she has to be at least physically mature at that point.

But the more I think about it, the worse it sounds. Because what is maturity? Adulthood? Virginity? Marriage? A certain level of respect?

I have to imagine every threshold looks like a guillotine in Tatiana’s eyes.

Morrigan’s blue eyes narrow slightly, and she shakes her head.

“I’m glad you’re still here, Tatiana,” she says.

Tatiana raises her chin and chews on her tongue until I can taste the blood in her mouth.

“They don’t see me,” Tatiana says. “They see…” she raises a hand to her chest, and her face tightens. “If they find out about it, I don’t know what father will do.”

I wonder if it’s infertility. How would someone in a world like this even know about that, though? Unless there’s some magical way for them to see it.

“He’ll be killed by your mother is what he’ll do,” Morrigan barks. “That man can’t stand you. That’s why he doesn’t speak to you. All he has to do is utter one foolish word and he’ll be a corpse.”

“That isn’t true,” Tatiana says. “Mother is loyal to—”

Morrigan laughs dryly.

“You must see the world with blind eyes,” she says.

They come out into the courtyard, and Tatiana squints against sunlight.

Povenna is there, standing before a fountain in the center of the courtyard.

On one side, several people rush by carrying baskets of clothes. On the other side, a few sheep are gathered together.

Morrigan sighs.

“Alright.” she says. “Here we go.”

“I didn’t realize you were coming,” Povenna says as Morrigan slows the horses to a stop.

“Bah!” Morrigan waves a hand at her. “When are you going to kill my son, Povenna?”

“You disappear for ten years and you ask me to kill my husband?” Povenna asks. “I expected you to have found some of your mind in that wilderness, crone.”

Morrigan drops off the wagon.

“Every breath I share with you,” she says, approaching Povenna with a groan. “Takes more and more of my patience.”

Povenna’s head twitches. A few strands of hair drop into her face as she leans forward.

“Why have you come back?” She asks.

Tatiana doesn’t move.

“I’ll be gone, soon,” Morrigan says. “I suppose I ought to do it among family.”

“Huh?” Tatiana blurts. “You only came back because you’re dying?”

“Surely you can save us the trouble,” Povenna mumbles. “Find a river and do the work of—”

“Mother!” Tatiana calls, dropping off the wagon.

“No,” Morrigan says. “Let her spew her hatred. She’s always had a strange way of showing her affection.”

“I am perfectly capable of showing affection,” Povenna snarls, her mouth flat. “I am merely overcome with disgust for you.”

‘Why does your mother hate her so much?’ I ask.

Tatiana shrugs her shoulders.

“Take me to my room,” Morrigan says. “I doubt I have the strength to walk there.”

“Gladly.” Povenna steps forward, setting a hand on the woman’s shoulder.

Morrigan explodes into smoke.

“Does she know?” Povenna demands, turning to Tatiana. “About that thing in your head?”

“No,” Tatiana says. “At least, I don’t believe so.”

Povenna nods slightly.

“You would do well to avoid her,” she says. “The crone has the eyes of the fish.”

“Her eyes aren’t fish, mother,” Tatiana groans. “She was joking.”

Povenna makes an affronted noise.

‘What does that mean?’ I ask only because I can’t resist.

Tatiana groans.

“Grandmother made a joke about being able to see through the eyes of a fish,” she says. “Years ago. And mother has never let anyone forget it.”

Povenna scoffs and smoke spews from her nostrils.

“I’m going to change,” Tatiana says. “We’ve only a few hours before the ceremony.”

“I suppose I’ll learn what’s become of the O’Hagan girl,” Povenna says. “Won’t I?”

Tatiana walks past, hurrying across the courtyard.

Povenna doesn’t move.

By the time Tatiana has crossed the courtyard, made her way up the stairs to the castle, crossed the half a dozen corridors to her tower, climbed the stairs to her bedroom, and slammed the door behind her, she is panting.

“I…” she tugs at her armor as she stumbles across the room. Her body feels like it’s melting under all the leather and cloth. And the skin under her arms is raw. “Gods…”

I keep quiet as she strips and goes about brushing her hair and picking out clothes. After she does that, she sits on the bed for a few moments.

I watch as her vision goes black. And I’m alone for a while.

The sun is just about lined up with her window, casting stray streaks along the edge of the curtain when she wakes up.

“Damn it!” Tatiana complains as she dresses. “Why did you let me sleep?”

‘What was I supposed to do?’

Tatiana is seated on her bed, wearing a green dress and braiding her hair absentmindedly, when someone knocks at the door.

I’d been about to ask what was with all the braids the knights were wearing.

Tatiana stands slowly, wincing at the soreness in her legs.

“It’s me,” Zaphenne says from beyond the door. “Zaphenne.”

‘Shit,’ I blurt. ‘It’s Zaphenne.’

“I heard.” Tatiana stands and pulls the braid out. Her hair falls loose on her shoulders. She crosses the room quietly, dragging her bare feet.

‘Will you be okay?’ I ask.

“I know how to handle this,” Tatiana says.

“It’s alright if…” Zaphenne trails off when Tatiana opens the door. She’s wearing a blue and white tunic. Her eyes widen.

“What is it?” Tatiana asks stepping back.

Zaphenne clears her throat and lowers her eyes.

“Your eyes,” she says. “They’re brown again.”

“Yes,” Tatiana says. “Come inside, I have secrets I want to keep.”

Zaphenne steps inside, and Tatiana nudges the door shut.

“Does it have to with the magic?” Zaphenne asks.

“It wouldn’t be a secret if I told you, Zaphenne.” Tatiana folds her arms and looks the girl over. “Would it?”

“You’re asking me to mind my business,” Zaphenne says stiffly, her eyes lingering on Tatiana's arms. “Aren’t you?”

“It’s dangerous,” Tatiana says. “I am…” she shakes her head. “I need you to trust me.”

Zaphenne purses her lips and nods slightly.

“I am grateful to you, though,” Tatiana says, taking her by the chin.

The gesture throws me off. It clearly shocks Zaphenne, too, because her eyes widen.

“Why?” Zaphenne breathes, meeting Tatiana's eyes.

“You would've stabbed me,” Tatiana says, slowly moving her hand until she's gripping her by the cheeks. “It’s good to know you’ve grown a spine, Zaphenne.”

Zaphenne blinks and her face lights up as. There’s pink in her cheeks that makes me wonder if Tatiana realizes the effect she’s having on the girl.

“I was worried,” she insists despite Tatiana toying with her face. “You were acting strangely.”

“I know.” Tatiana returns the smile, turning the girl’s face side to side. “I’m glad that I can rely on you to act if I step out of line.”

I think that's a strange thing to compliment someone for, but I realize Tatiana's handling this much better than I expected. She's more socially fluent when she has time to prepare, I suppose.

“Zaphenne,” Tatiana says, lowering her voice. “Why aren't you stopping me from messing with your face? I was just complimenting your spine.”

Zaphenne blinks a few more times. The speed of it makes me think of a bird's wings. The pink deepens in her face.

“I thought…” she raises a hand and pretends to smack Tatiana's away. “There.”

Tatiana laughs as she drops her hand.

“Oh!” Zaphenne turns away and searches the room with her eyes. “Um. Right!”

Tatiana watches silently.

“The fight!” Zaphenne waves her arms frantically. “It’s happening! Early! They moved it up to make time for supper with the O’Hagans! Because of Lord Brevard’s return!”

“What?”

“Maya O’Hagan is fighting! That’s why I came!”

Tatiana straightens.

“Oh.” She turns to the window. “Summon my mother. I won’t make it in time. She can teleport us.”

Zaphenne jumps. Her head whips toward Tatiana.

“You’re sure?”

“Do it!”

She can summon Povenna? How?

Zaphenne raises a hand to her face. Her fingers flex against her skin, dragging slowly.

‘What’s she doing?’ I ask.

“She’s a masked creature like Gideon,” Tatiana says under her breath. “She’s going to transform. Or she would. But mother won’t allow it. Mother is so aware of the magic in the realm that she’ll sense Zaphenne trying to transform and—”

Povenna appears in an explosion of smoke between them. Her hand snaps to Zaphenne’s wrist and yanks the girl off her feet.

Zaphenne shrieks and flails.

“I’m sorry!” She whines.

“I told her to do it!” Tatiana yells. “Mother, please!”

Povenna looks between the two of them, her mouth hanging slightly open. She lowers Zaphenne to the floor.

“Take me to the arena,” Tatiana says. “I have to be there.”

“You asked her to transform,” Povenna says, frowning. “Just to get my attention?”

Zaphenne shakes her arm, pouting at Povenna.

“The fight,” Tatiana insists. “Please.”

Povenna offers a hand, letting out a heavy breath.

“Come along, you two,” she groans as Zaphenne takes her other hand.

Tatiana takes the hand, and the room bursts into smoke.

When it clears, the sky opens up around them. They’re standing on a balcony high above the arena.

Below is paradise.

The arena is flooded with life. Massive flowers stand like trees. Roses, tulips, lilies, carnations, and peonies of all sorts of colors.

Markus stands surrounded by their stalks. His tunic is burnt and bloodied. His sword is wrapped up by what looks like roots sticking out of the ground, and he’s struggling to get it free.

Maya sits on the flattened top of a massive rose. She wears a black tunic and trousers, tied with a blue ribbon at her waist. Her cheek is in her palm and her hair is in a messy bun on her head. Her other arm extends slowly, holding out a sword.

A dozen roses bloom in the air around Markus. He flinches as they erupt into explosions of sparks around him. He recoils, clinging to his sword.

The crowd roars.

“She’s…” Zaphenne steps forward, leaning against the railing. “Beautiful.”

But Tatiana looks away from that.

Castor sits a few feet away, fist under his chin. At his side are a man and a woman.

A few knights are gathered behind them, as well as Yordga and Brevard.

Brevard grins when he meets Tatiana’s eyes.

Yordga doesn’t take her eyes off the fight.

The man turns as well. He has short brown hair and dark eyes. His robes are black and orange. His brow is furrowed.

Two panes appear at once.

‘Garnavelle O’Hagan. Head of the O’Hagan alliance. Has something on Castor.’

‘Kirei O’Hagan. Highest standing knight of the realm. Not to be trusted.’

“Watch,” Tatiana hisses under her breath as I process all of that. She holds Garnavelle’s gaze. “You disgusting fool. Keep watching.”

‘Tatiana?’ Neither of those panes sound good. What’s with these people?

Povenna appears, moving in front of Tatiana and obscuring her view of Garnavelle.

A flash draws Tatiana’s eyes.

Markus lands on his back. The blade gleams as he starts carving through stalks.

But instead of falling, the massive flowers start to rise.

Maya stands, balancing on the rose as several flowers gather in the air.

The stems intertwine, twisting tight around each other until the flowers smash together.

Markus raises his head and charges at the stem of the rose Maya stands on.

Maya turns the sword.

Roots burst from the ground, wrapping around his arms and binding his hands to the sword.

The floating flowers keep twisting together until their shape melts into a blob of color. The air thickens as the blob swirls and pulses.

Maya aims a finger at Markus.

“What is she doing?” Garnavelle asks, standing up.

Parthen, the referee guy, appears from behind the stalk of a tulip. I hadn’t even realized he was down there.

“I can’t drop the sword!” Markus yells. The roots tighten, forcing him to stand straight.

“Do you surrender?” Parthen asks. “Markus, tell me if you surrender!”

The roots move, some of then clamping over Markus’s mouth.

The blob splits.

A streak of solid white shoots straight down like ink painted across the air. It’s completely silent.

I don’t see it hit. I just see a flash as the blob fades.

A smoking hole has opened in the ground before Markus. The end of his blade is gone, and the stump is partially melted.

His eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open.

Maya raises her hand and the sword.

“Alright,” she says as the roots release Markus. “You can surrender now.”

Markus stumbles back, dropping his sword.

“Markus has been disarmed!” Parthen calls. “Maya has won!”

Maya raises her head, looking to Tatiana and the others. Her face splits into a grin.

“This is just the beginning,” Tatiana breathes. “We won’t stop until you see us.”