I may be a Silvermarker, but hear me out. I have no relation to any magician whatsoever. My family, from the noble town of Darkhill Tower, have been magician-free for at least four generations.

The rain came down like a mist that pearled on the brown, orange, and yellow leaves that had fallen from the trees, their enhanced smell carrying her home to the Forest of Lane where autumn was always the highlight of the year for the warriors. The daily hunts that lasted from before sunrise until after sunset were long but exciting, and the game that was caught enough to survive the coldest of the winter moons.

A mighty gust of wind rustled past her, causing the trees to shiver so heavily that a cooing dove fluttered away. She turned around instinctively, ready to grab an arrow from her quiver.

Her hand was halfway to her head when she snapped out of her daydream. She had no bow, nor arrow, nor quiver. Instead, she was standing in the royal garden with a basket of flowers and the mildly entertaining company of Lana, who had decided to tag along because she had wanted to do something more useful than staring at the four walls of her bedroom, waiting for Lady Viviane to do her hair.

"What was that, Alex?" Lana chuckled. "Chamomile doesn't run away. There's no reason to hunt it down."

"I thought I was somewhere else, doing something else."

"Clearly."

The dove sought refuge in the oak tree, under which Seb was receiving instructions from Sword Master Paul. The man with curly, honey brown hair was an old army friend of King Thomas, and although he wasn't in the army anymore, there was still something stern and disciplined in his appearance and posture. Despite it all, she would give anything to swap places with Seb; sword-fighting was far more interesting than picking herbs for Healer Mark.

"Alex, you have that look again, like something's bothering you." Lana edged closer and whispered, "Just tell me if you need another excuse to ride to Regal Sun Wood to hunt in secret. I'm pretty sure my belladonna potion is running low again."

"I don't know. Healer Mark may be old, but he's hard to fool." Alex cleared a few strands of wet hair from her eyes. The drizzle was now slowly soaking her. "I was away all afternoon, and the royal forest isn't that far. I doubt he fully believed me when I told him the berries were hard to find. And, hunting feels wrong when I have to leave the dead animals behind. Your horse didn't like it either."

"Nasira has a chicken's heart. Consider the alternative, you would have been stuck for hours in a chamber with me and Lady Victoria. God of Patience, don't you think that woman is more boring than Papa's sleep-inducing speeches." Lana cleared her throat, then wrinkled her nose as though she smelled something that had been rotting on a shelf for a few days. "Girls, a proper lady should always keep her back straight, even when sleeping, and should never be seen wearing a nightgown. Not even by her own husband."

"I doubt she said that." Alex chuckled. She could already picture the etiquette teacher's carping voice and pointy finger. Any chance to not have to spend time with that woman was surely tempting, but the Queen wanted her to learn how to be a good Lady, and she was determined to prove to them that she could. Missing classes was not the way to go, though she missed the hunts every day.

"Ah, it would have been memorable if she had actually done that." Lana dropped a handful of chamomile flowers into the basket. "Speaking about Papa's speeches–he asked me to proofread the one he'll give this afternoon, and it's not so bad this time. Last year, I caught Priest Aurelius yawning because Papa just kept going on about spending time with your loved ones, and blah-blah-blah. He was being such a hypocrite too. It's not like he ever did any effort to meet up with Uncle Bran."

"Does he regret that now?"

"I can't spoil the speech for you. Sorry, Alex."

"It's fine. I'm looking forward to it." A happy tingle nested in her stomach. Anything that broke the daily castle hassle was a blessing from the Gods. "All of it. The bringing of offerings to the temple, your father addressing the crowd, and then the fair. The way you Sundalers celebrate the Feast of the Dead is so much more elaborate than the bonfire in Laneby."

"You're forgetting the best part: the ball." Lana spun on the tip of her shoe and swirled around gracefully. "Part of the tradition is that my parents leave the party early, and then we can dance all night. You're not gonna believe it, but George is an incredible dancer. I'm pretty sure that's where the rumours came from that we're destined to get married. We just had fun, but of course, people gossip."

"I know. It was one of those whispers that reached our little village too."

Lana snorted and tilted her head, rolling her eyes. "Why even? He's thrice my age and Papa's best friend."

"You're famous and the right age to get married. I guess they all wanna be part of that celebration when it comes because it'll benefit them in one way or another."

"My curse." She crouched down again and pulled hard at a chamomille stem. "Be pretty and marry the right guy to secure Papa's economical or political deals. Nobody cares what I want, especially not Mama."

"Did she marry your father out of love?"

"She... It's a long story that's not my right to tell." She smiled as she brushed the raindrops from the flower's petals and sniffed at it. "So... what's the Feast of the Dead like in Laneby? I only know how it's done here in Sundale."

"Oh, it was great." Alex's heart grew heavy at the thought of all those people who would not be feasting with her today. "Like all the other holidays, we ate way too much food, but still kept some plates aside to honour the dead. And although the feast was never complete without one or two rain showers, we all gathered in front of the inn, wearing skeleton masks, and Lord Brandon ignited a large bonfire. For the last couple of years, he and Fox always assured the flames burned till sunrise."

"That sounds lovely, Alex."

"Yeah, it was simpler, but the most important part was that we spent it all together." She looked over her shoulder. Underneath the oak tree, Master Paul disarmed Seb with a swift slash. Seb threw down his shield in anger and frustratingly slammed his fist into his own head. "He's having a bad time. I just know that he's gutted because he can't go to the fair with us."

"It's for his own protection. During the festivities, there are simply too many people on the market square. It's just too easy to plant a knife in his back and walk away. Since nobody can fully guarantee his safety, I understand Papa's decision, even if Seb thinks it's cowardly and unfair."

"You're allowed to go."

"Yes, but I'm not Crown Prince of The Greenlands so Papa doesn't care if I get assassinated or not." Lana chuckled uneasily. "That's not true, by the way. George will assure that five to ten guards follow our every movement, but they don't want to take their chances with Seb. Our country has the larger army, but Ariel only has to kill two people to get the crown that is rightfully his. It's a scary thought, but it is what it is. Only a fool would ignore the risk, especially after Laneby."

"I understand but..." Her shoulders grew heavy too. Everything she had once perceived as normal had either faded away or was rapidly slipping through her fingers. "It's such a shame though, especially since Nick is gonna celebrate the feast with his patrol. I just wish your father and General George would come up with a plan so Seb could come along."

"I'm sorry. That's not gonna happen." Lana bit her lip as she alternated looking at her and Seb. "You miss the boys, don't you?"

"Nick's always out with the army or hiding in the library, and Seb's either training with Master Paul or stuck in some meeting with your father. We may all live under the same roof now, but I see them less than when we weren't."

"It's an enormous roof. Housing too many people, but still manages to make you feel lonely. At least, we have each other now, haven't we? Who needs the boys anyway?"

"Yeah, stupid boys." Abandoning the chamomile, she turned back to Seb, who clashed his sword against Master Paul's shield. His entire face was red, and sweat and rain ran down his cheeks. The Sword Master thrust his shield, smashing the sword out of Seb's hand a second time. "Don't go for the shield each time, Muttonhead!"

"Just keep on picking flowers, Alex!" Seb sneered.

"I don't think I can. It's entertaining to watch you getting bashed in the head." The God of Pride controlled her tongue, and He wasn't lady-like at all. She pressed her mouth shut, stifling a giggle as Seb stuck out his tongue.

Master Paul leant on his sword. "Is this how His Majesty has taught you to treat ladies, My Lord?"

"She's no real Lady. She's just pretending."

Seb's words stung harder than she wanted to admit. She ruffled the flowers in the basket. "I think I have enough now for Healer Mark to prepare your mother's potion, Lana. I'm gonna head back."

"You're not just saying that because of Seb, are you? He's acting like a brat."

"No, I really have enough." It wasn't a lie either. She had more than the pound Healer Mark had asked for. "Thanks for your help."

"Pleasure's all mine. Just the look on Viviane's face when she's confronted with my wet and messy hair will be enough to treasure this moment. I'll pay you back. I swear it to the Gods."

"You don't have to."

"I insist."

Together they walked back into the castle where their ways split. Lana went up the stairs to go to her bedroom, while Alex headed for the basement, where Healer Mark's lab was situated in the far-end southern wing. She had walked the road so many times, yet still found comfort in the desolate hallways and their flaring torches. There was no luxury here, just a simple stone floor that consisted of the same beige bricks as the walls.

Those little things kept her going. Though she had expressed at various occasions that she liked learning about the herbs and how they were used in tonics, none of the Healers had taken an interest in teaching her. If they weren't sending her around Sundale for errands, she was mostly cleaning phials and overhearing the stories behind people's ailments.

Queen Crystal needed the chamomile, among other herbs, to calm her nerves; a result of various miscarriages and stillbirths that had taken a heavy toll on her body and mind. She never showed it, and for that Alex admired her. Just like her daughter, the Queen had shown Alex that it was possible to be both graceful and strong.

Seb was wrong. She could be a real Lady.

With a quick push of the door, she walked into the lab and put the basket next to Healer Mark on the table he was working on.

"Thanks, deary." Carefully he pushed a tiny but lengthy cork down a bottle's neck. It contained a colourless liquid.

"What's that?"

"Another errand, if you don't mind." He flipped the bottle and shook it, then handed it to her. "It's for His Majesty. Poor lad is having trouble with his ear again. It'll be a temporary bandage that will relieve the pain long enough so he can complete his duties. Remind him that he'll have to rest the next couple of days. The message didn't seem to sink in when I told him."

Healer Eddy looked up from the thick book he was reading, removed his owl-eyed monocle and snorted. "We better inform Her Majesty to lock him into their chamber then."

"Or ask Lady Alana to mix sleeping draught into his wine." Alex chuckled, tucking the phial into the side pocket of her waistcoat. "She'll cooperate if I ask."

The age lines on Healer Mark's cheeks deepened as he joined in the laughter. "I don't doubt that for a second, deary. She's a clever girl and knows her Papa as well as I do. Prince Brandon may have been called the stubborn one, but His Majesty is headstrong in a different way. He can say one thing to put your mind at ease yet do something else behind your back. I'm not complaining–He's a great politician, and I wouldn't have wished this country in any other hands but his."

"Lord Brandon was a great Lord. He would have been a fine King too."

"I know you mean no harm, but be careful what you say to whom in this city. Some may interpret such a statement as treason." Healer Mark brushed his wrinkled hand against hers. "Have a toast on Bran today, deary, and on your friends and family too. Their fate could have been avoided if..."

"If what?"

"I won't speak ill of the dead–not today of all days." He pushed a smile across his lips, yet his old, glassy eyes told a sadder story. "Let me not detain you any longer. You have a ceremony to get ready for, if I'm not mistaken."

"I do. The seamstresses have sewn their hearts out to create brand new dresses for Her Majesty, Lady Lana, and for me too." She chuckled within as she headed out. Seb the Muttonhead would see a real Lady both during the ceremony, and at the ball.

"Tomorrow you can tell me all about it." Before Alex could lay her hand on the handle, Healer Mark added, "I examined His Majesty in his office. Unless Her Majesty has moaned enough to get him to stop working for the day, he'll still be there."

When she entered the royal corridor not much later, she passed Lady Viviane who hurried from Seb's bedroom to Lana's. The Chamberlady's heels clicked louder on the marbles with each step, which caused the blue flower in her hair to droop further against her atypically messy bun. It was no wonder that she wasn't her cheery self. Alex knew like no other that a moody Seb was a pain to deal with.

The lack of guards next to the King's office was another sign that today was not just any ordinary day. She liked the changes, as small as they were, as if the Gods were preparing the world for something far more exciting than running errands or listening to an old etiquette teacher.

She held her fist high, ready to knock when the door flew open with a bang and Lana got out with the biggest grin she had seen all morning.

"Papa's expecting you." She leant closer but continued speaking at a normal volume. "Don't believe him if he says he doesn't require the tonic. He's like Seb, only bigger and older."

"Stop gossiping around, little Lady," The King said in jest. "Get ready. There's only so much of Lady Viviane I can handle when she's running around like a mad chicken, and not even the Gods will be able to save you if your mother gets involved in all of this too."

"It's all going to be fine. Stop worrying about me, Papa." She winked at Alex, then left, skipping into the direction of her chamber.

"Impossible," he murmured as Alex entered. "Every day, I worry more and more."

As he let out a deep sigh, he added a dozen more papers to an already colossal pile that towered above the chandelier on his desk. He sat down more cramped than usual, his head resting on the hand that covered his bad ear.

Alex fished the phial out of her pocket and put it next to an untouched cup of tea and the black jewel he normally always wore on his ear. "I have come to bring you this, Your Majesty. It should relieve the pain, but Healer Mark requested me to emphasise that rest is of vital importance."

"I'm well aware he said that. I value his opinion, but I don't have the time to spend entire days sleeping." He reached for the bottle and turned it around, without as much as looking at it. "I take it you will join Lana after the ceremony to go to the fair."

"Yes. Can Seb come too? He would love–"

"My decision stands. I'm sorry, Alex." The King placed the potion back on his desk, closer to her than to himself. "I've given Lana gold. You girls will have to share, and of course, if you come across a nice necklace or a fine weapon for Seb, then be my guest."

"Oh yeah, I'll find him a gift. He'll like that." As silence fell, she kept her eyes locked on the bottle. She wasn't going to leave until he had taken it. He's just like Seb, only bigger and older.

The King sniggered. "You'll stare at it until I drink it, won't you?"

"A good healer assures their patients don't neglect their medicine. They don't distinguish between beggars or Kings."

"You're spending far too much time in the dungeon with those Healers, but it's logic I can't argue with." He grabbed the bottle and uncorked it, exposing the scar on his ear, which was all swollen and red. A grimace contorted his face as he put the phial to his lips and swallowed the liquid. He gave it back, empty to the last drop."Still revolting. Can't Mark add a biscuit-flavour of some sorts?"

"I'll ask him tomorrow." She wasn't sure if he was joking, or not, but she would mention it anyway when she cleaned out the phial in the morning. "Will that be all, Your Majesty? I need to get ready too."

"My wife would no doubt agree with you but..." He licked his lips and tapped the desk twice, all the while examining her from head to toe. "Would you mind sitting down, Alex? There's something I must discuss with you."

"With me?" She pressed her finger against her chest, her heart buzzing with an odd feeling.

"Yeah, you. Don't be afraid–that's not how I know you, Alex. I'm just asking you to sit down and have a chat with me."

"True, that's not very scary." As she sat down, the black jewel on the desk caught her eye. Anything but having to reattach that. She would hurt him for sure.

He grabbed the jewel himself and pinned it back into his ear, which was a relief. "Before we begin, you must promise that you won't tell anyone of what I'm about to ask. It's our secret, Alex. You, me, and nobody else."

Her mouth dropped open, her lungs temporarily forgetting the urge to breathe. A secret that only she and the King would know. The God of Pride wanted her to smile, but the Goddess of Humility didn't trust the offer. "Why me?"

The King pursed his lips. "All in due time. Do you promise to never ever mention our conversation to my wife, my daughter, especially never to Nick and Seb. It's very important, Alex. I need your trust and loyalty."

"Will I like it? What you're about to ask."

He sniffed, clearing his throat. "I know that life in this castle bores you. You're no good at hiding it, even though you do try to make the best out of this bad situation. I wanna help and reward you, in a way."

"In what way?"

"That I can't tell yet." The King took a sip of his tea, his sudden scowl revealing his pain.

She bit the inside of her cheek, unsure what was truly stopping her. The warrior inside her craved the thrill, even if it came with sacrifices. She hardly ever spoke to the boys anyway, and she would have no trouble keeping her mouth shut to Lana and the Queen.

With an unladylike sway, she stood up and placed her hand on her heart. The beats grew louder but more steady. "It's almost two years ago that I swore loyalty to your brother. To remember him today, I shall repeat my oath: To the Gods, the sun, and the moon, I swear that my Lord's will is the law. I will stand by his side to fight evil and protect the weak with all my might. If death is the price to pay, I shall accept it without regret, for such is the warrior's way."

"Perfect." King Thomas' eyes lit up as he leant back in his chair, his arms crossed against his chest. "For I require the stealth and perseverance of a warrior. That's why I need you, Alex, and you alone."