The prisoners stay in their cells for a moon or more, turning them into rabid animals who will do every trick for a piece of frozen bread.

In all those moons living in Sunstone Castle, Sebastian had never set a foot in Alex's chamber. Now that he had, he cursed his own stubbornness for not visiting her earlier. There were no heaps of sausage-like pillows drowning the bed, just one plain rectangular one at the top; where it should be. Like the light that was shining her eyes for the first time in moons, it was all so perfectly Alex.

Blinking his tears away, he held his breath. He didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, but he had to do something before she left him and Sundale. He wrung his hands behind his back and fiddled with the edge of his shirt. "You're leaving tomorrow already. It's too soon. "

"I'm a quick learner. Lord Simon and his men will train me on the way," she said like she wasn't going to risk her life infiltrating the monsters that lived in the caves of Mora. She had agreed so quickly, without thinking of the consequences.

So typically Alex.

"But it will be dangerous. Uncle Tom warned me all about them—the pirates that roam the Greenlander coast are a large gang that bring terror and bloodshed to every city they pass. We never know when they strike, or where, and with how many. They're like ghosts."

"There are no such things as ghosts, Muttonhead," she said with a big smile. If it weren't so frustrating to convince her of the risks, her happiness would be infectious. "I'll be your messenger, save thousands of people. Tell your uncle I want a statue at The Academy if I succeed."

"But what if you don't?"

She ran her hand through her hair and let out a deep sigh. "Seb, I want this. It's as crazy as those plans our fathers used to come up when we were little. They caught bandits, they went out on hunting trips and came back with boars and stags."

"Until your father was killed by a bear during one of those hunts," he whimpered. His thundering heart skipped a beat.

Alex briefly averted her gaze. "My father died doing what he loved. I can't stay here, Seb. I won't wait for your aunt and uncle to marry me off to some man who only cares about what jewellery I wear. Or who expects me to give him a son. The Gods have my faith in their hands. I'd rather die fighting than not live at all."

He flew into her arms, buried his face into the nape of her neck. If real men didn't cry, then they didn't care enough about their friends or family. "But I don't. I will do anything. I'll convince Uncle Tom to give you a spot in the guards. I'll tell Aunt Crystal that no man is good enough for you. You need to stay. I don't want you to go. I'll miss you too much."

"You won't miss me." She rubbed his back, a heavenly touch that had to last forever. She wasn't allowed to ever let go of him. "You'll have Lana, Master Paul, your aunt and uncle. And Nick will be back shortly." She chuckled. "If he fails to do well at the camp, it's your duty to give him a hard time."

"I will." He sobbed. "But you'll leave so soon already. I'm not ready."

"Tomorrow, huh?"

He nodded. Lord Simon was going back to the Port of Diligence on the morrow. Sixteen hours—an evening, a night, and a morning—that was all he had left with Alex. He remained in her embrace, too afraid to let go and regret not keeping her close any longer.

"Any advice my Puddingbrain of a future King can give me?"

"Don't call your future King a Puddingbrain." He sniggered through his tears. "Or maybe you should. Tell those pirates how much you hate us."

"I couldn't—not you, anyway." She pushed him away from her, with more strength than he had anticipated. Even after all those moons with Master Paul, she was still stronger than he was. "I'll just lie and tell them I've never met you. It's more realistic."

"Fine. Then I want you to take Billy. With him by your side, the journey will be less lonely."

"Oh, Muttonhead. He belongs to Nick," she said, unconvinced of how serious he was.

He had been avoiding the stables since his arrival in Moondale. Neither Lana nor Uncle Tom had managed to convince him to join them on their weekly horse riding trips. Each time he had used his sword fighting bruises as an excuse to avoid facing the judging eyes of the white horse. With Billy gone, the stables would be another place he would walk without fearing visions of Abby clawing for her last gasp of breath.

"Nick never rides him. For all we know, Sundale is as boring to Billy as it is to you."

"But Nick loves nothing more than that horse. You can't give Billy to me without his approval." She turned her back on him and picked up her bow. Dust whirled down as she brushed her finger along the string.

"Of course I can. I'm the Crown Prince." He wasn't sure whether that argument would work on her so he added, "I know how you and Billy were back in Laneby. That horse loves anyone who pets him and feeds him apples. He needs a rider too, and Nick isn't one. I think you should take him."

"And what about Nick?"

"Let me worry about him. I'll let Oliver bake his weight in biscuits, or let Aunt Crystal buy new books for him. This is the best for Billy. He may be old, but a horse that's stuck in the stables all day long is a little sad. Nick's pampering is sending him to an early grave, Alex."

"When you're explaining it like that." She opened her closet and peered at the neatly stacked piles of clothes. "Alright, I'll take him."

For the rest of the afternoon, Sebastian helped her pack while they shared childhood memories. He volunteered to inspect her arrows. Two of them had a broken point and the feather fletching of a third was so damaged that the arrow wouldn't soar very high. When he grabbed the next arrow, a patch of dried-up moss fell out of the quiver.

"Are you trying to grow something in there?" he asked.

"Erm..." She chewed on her lips, her cheeks turning a little red. "I've heard it protects them against humidity. My mother always did that."

"Really?" He had never heard anything of the likes, not from Eleonore or from anyone else in Laneby or Sundale.

"Hmm... yeah... so leave it. I might need it at sea."

"As you wish, My Lady."

She stomped him. "Don't be a Muttonhead, My Lord."

At six o'clock sharp, he and Alex entered the dining hall. They were the last ones, but they were still on time so Aunt Crystal didn't say anything; they weren't late. Uncle Tom eyed him as he took his place.

Since Nick was at the camp, Alex hesitated before taking her own seat. Starting tomorrow there would be two empty spots at the table. It was going to be so strange.

Sebastian scooped up some mashed turnips from the bowl in front of George and picked out a juicy-looking pork chop. The rest already had food on their plates.

Uncle Tom reached for his glass of red wine, but before setting it to his lips, he said, "Sit a bit closer, Alex. I don't bite."

"You don't?" Lana snorted. "Then how do you plan on eating, Papa?"

As Alex switched to Nick's chair, Uncle Tom made a funny face. Aunt Crystal shot him a glare, to which he smiled, his teeth flashing. "I'm just messing around."

"This is not the army camp."

"No, we're not eating burnt porridge."

George snorted. "Did you know that Jonathan wanted to change the menu, give the lads something easier to cook. I found it absurd. It's a cheap meal, easy to transport, and the older patrols manage just fine."

"The years are making Jonathan soft." Uncle Tom grabbed a piece of bread and ran his knife through the butter. "Porridge on the first night is a tradition, livened up with an occasional food fight."

"Yeah, that hasn't happened since you were a Serjeant. The Lieutenants now subtract fifty points for wasting food."

"That's probably for the best," Uncle Tom mused. He shivered, or at least he pretended to. "I still get goosebumps as I remember Captain Jonathan ordering me to stand in the creek for hours on end with my hands above my head. I learnt my lesson too."

"And he wasted any chance of becoming General."

"Father never considered him. He's too conservative."

"Darling." Aunt Crystal touched Uncle Tom's hand, catching his attention. "Lady Victoria came to see me after she taught the girls. She was very upset with Alexandra's behaviour today."

"Mama, please." Lana rolled her eyes. "Victoria's an old hag who's just being difficult because she knows that she can. Did she also tell you what she said about Uncle Bran?"

"I don't need to know," Aunt Crystal replied."I know enough."

"I wanna know!" Sebastian's voice slipped into a high pitch. "If she said anything bad about him, it's treason. My father was a Lord and a Prince."

"Sebby..." Uncle Tom rubbed his bad ear. "If I had to execute everybody who ever openly criticised your father or me, there wouldn't be many Greenlanders left to rule over." He turned back to his wife. "In fact, the girls came to me after their class. We talked. And I don't see any reason for Alex to continue her lessons with Lady Victoria."

"Oh." Aunt Crystal tightened her lips into a thin line. "Then what do you propose—let her aimlessly roam the halls when Mark doesn't require her help?

Instead of answering her, Uncle Tom turned away from her. "George, can you tell Mark that he's gonna need a new errand boy... or girl?"

Aunt Crystal furiously tapped his arm. "What in the dragon's name have you two come up with this time?"

George laid his cutlery on his plate and held his hands up. "I'm innocent. I only agreed after a meeting with Thomas."

"Don't tell me she's joining the army." Aunt Crystal pointed her finger at Uncle Tom. "If if that's the case, you can sleep on the couch in your office for the rest of the year, Thomas. The army is no place for little Nicolas and surely not for girls such as Alexandra."

"Good, then I'll get to keep my bed." Uncle Tom scoffed. "And please don't re-open that discussion. You still don't understand the difference between height and maturity. Nick's place is with the patrols."

"Besides, no girl will ever be allowed to join my ranks—not while I live," George said with a grunt. "I've heard the Scorian army has become a brothel since Rainah set the doors open for female soldiers. Just the idea alone is preposterous."

"Shame, they had a good reputation," Uncle Tom said with a mouth full of bread. "Don't tell Rainah I said that. I might still need her forces one day—brothel or not."

"Sebastian," Queen Crystal leant forward. "Since your uncle and George are doing their utmost to change the subject, why don't you tell me what's in store for Alexandra?"

Sebastian glanced at Uncle Tom, who nodded. He finished chewing on the juicy pork meat, his heart beating so fiercely he heard his blood flowing. Squeezing one eye shut, he braced himself to be at the receiving end of his aunt's battle with Wrath. "She's gonna go to the Jade Islands to spy on the pirates," he murmured.

Yet it was not him she targeted with her anthem of rage. "Thomas, George, have you two completely lost your mind! Those beastly men and women are gonna skin her alive if they find out you are the ones who sent her! They—"

Skinned alive? Sebastian sunk into his seat and pushed his plate away. He only had eyes for Alex, who seemed to remain surprisingly calm by all of this. How could she go? How could she leave him if that was a potential fate?

"I don't think you should underestimate Alex." Uncle Tom laid his hand on hers.

She smacked it away. "Are you going to say the same thing when we get her bones back, Thomas? If we'll ever get them at all? She's so young and untrained. You have an army larger than those of the other kingdoms combined. Why her? Can't you send someone else?"

"First of all," Uncle Tom said. "Calm down. Secondly, she's not untrained. Bran trained her for many years and I've seen what she's capable of. Last, but not least: she's an orphan with Jade-Islandic roots, curious to get to know her long-lost relatives on the Islands. Her profile fits so perfectly it's like the Gods have always intended it. And nobody will expect the Greenlanders to send a girl as a spy. It's completely unlike us, which makes it perfect."

"It's half-baked plan doomed to go wrong," Aunt Crystal sneered. She looked at the General. "How can you say 'yes' to this, George? You of all people. You're supposed to steer Thomas away from insane ideas. How could you...?"

"Crystal, I wasn't keen on the idea at first. But I want revenge for what happened to Mira and my boys. If Alex can help us catch the bastards who entered their ship and slit their throats, then I'm all for it," George spoke with more emotion than Sebastian had ever heard of him. He knew George's family had died had sea three years ago. Their bodies had never been found, and neither had their ship, but rumours had come from the south that they had been killed by the pirates of Mora.

"You two just don't learn," Aunt Crystal continued. "I don't understand why you keep sending commoners as spies. In Ice, they get trained intensively for many years. They know what to do when they get caught. They've practised every possible scenario. Alexandra is a young woman, like Alana. Just imagine our daughter among those barbarians, Thomas. Would you still stand behind your decision if it were her standing there?"

Uncle Tom crushed his napkin into his hand. "Alex isn't Lana. And you Icians are too pessimistic. You think you can prepare yourself for anything... well... you can't."

"Perhaps not. But we've been hardened by the northern winter. We know the real dangers of the world."

"Not Pirates though," Lana said matter-of-factly.

"You—stop talking!" she yelled at her.

Sebastian couldn't take it anymore. He banged his fist on the table. "No, you stop talking. I want you all to stop talking." He buried his face in his hands and began to cry, burning hot tears streaming down his face. "I don't want her to go. I don't want her to die. It's too much."

"Seb." Alex's voice sounded far away. "Please don't cry. I want you to support me. I need you to support me in this. You know that I want this, that I can't be a housewife to a man and a mother to children. It's not who I am."

He looked up. Through his tears, he only saw her blurred outlines. "But how can you not fear death? The things those pirates can do to you?"

"Seb, when Father was attacked by that bear, Mother didn't want me to see his body at first—it was so mauled that he was barely recognisable. His eyes were gone. His face slashed open, and then those claw marks everywhere. It was terrible, but it never stopped me from entering the forest. If anything, it made me more determined to become a great warrior like him. I'm more scared of wasting my life away than dying a horrible death."

"I can't. I don't..." He gasped for breath but found none. His chest was on fire, the world around him spinning.

He heard the sound of cutlery getting thrown on a plate. "Let's get out of here, Sebby. You look like you could use some fresh air," said Uncle Tom.

"Thomas, why are you leaving? This discussion isn't over."

Sebastian didn't care what his aunt was saying. He clawed at his uncle's uniform and gladly welcomed his arm in support of his back.

"It is, Crystal. I've already decided. If Simon agrees, she's leaving tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? You're making the biggest mistake of your life, Thomas. Mark my word."

Sebastian grew faint in the head, black spots dancing around him. His armpits were swimming in pools of sweat.

"Yeah, because everything would be so different if you ruled this kingdom instead of me, darling," Uncle Tom shouted as he guided him out of the hall.

"Don't you dare 'darling' me! And I don't care if you sleep at all tonight, Thomas, but if you do, it's not gonna be in our bed. I can't stand to be near you right now."

"Fine!" Uncle Tom growled. "Neither can I."

They rushed out of the dining hall, Lana still making a joke in the distance about Aunt Crystal's terrible reign if she were to rule instead of Uncle Tom. She already spoke of treason and promoting Alex to become our General. He would agree to all of that if it would stop Alex from leaving.

The warm touch of Uncle Tom's fingers seeped through the thin fabric of his shirt, giving him some comfort. "There has to be an alternative," he said as they descended the stairs, going towards the garden. "It's like I'm already condemning her to death by approving."

If Uncle Tom replied, then his heart pounding heavily must have blocked his words. He inhaled sharply, but that only made his mouth dryer. His throat narrowed, slowly choking him.

"You have to do something, Uncle Tom."

As he clawed at his jacket, a sharp pain stabbed him in the chest. All of his muscles cramped up simultaneously. He could hear himself groaning, but it seemed distant, like someone else was uttering the noise instead of him.

"Sebby?" Uncle Tom's voice sounded even further away.

He dug his nails into his own skin, to assure that his limbs were still attached to his trembling and tingling body. The black spots grew bigger and wider, his heart now racing with the speed of a mad horse on the run.

Then came a massive wave of nausea that made him want to retch up the few bites of turnip mash and pork chop. A hollow feeling overwhelmed him and sucked all air out of his lungs.

"There's something wrong with me, Uncle Tom" he cried in distress. "I'm not well."

As his knees crashed into the sharp edge of the stone, the walls around him crumbled down and the darkness swallowed him whole.