Nobody spoke when Octavia emerged from her room, a map rolled up in her hand. Friedrich stood with his soldiers outside the castle, not noticing when she walked up, holding out the parchment.

"Octavia-" he said, looking startled at her appearance. "What are you-?"

"The Eternal River," Octavia said before he could dare to try and give her some feigned empathy.

She unrolled the map, showing the blotted X she had marked on the paper, despite the fact that everyone knew where the Eternal River was. "That is where my father's resting place is to be. I want to attend the ceremony. Afterward, I will choose which of your men to take as my husband."

Friedrich slowly took the map from her. Several of the surrounding soldiers paused in their sparring, leaning in with little attempt to pretend like they weren't listening.

"Very well," Friedrich said cautiously. "Is there anything else?"

Octavia pulled her shoulders back, clasping her hands in front of her. "I would like to visit my sister," she said.

Friedrich pursed his lips. Octavia waited. She could see the uncertainty on his face, trying to read between the lines of her request. The clanging of weapons filled the awkwardness before Friedrich ran a hand over his face, giving a terse nod.

"Dainn?" he called because it always seemed to be Dainn. Octavia turned just in time to see Dainn struggling to position his crutch while holding one of his blades. His jaw clenched before he turned to give Friedrich his full attention. "Escort Octavia to see her sister. Be quick about it."

Octavia frowned, eyes flicking to Dainn's missing leg. Dainn himself fixed Friedrich with an incredulous look before giving a taut nod. Awkwardly, Octavia waited for him as he limped over to her. It was clear he hadn't quite figured out how to move around yet. Octavia was a little impressed he was even standing so soon after such an injury.

"Are you just going to stand there?" he snapped at her.

Octavia raised a brow. "Hurry up then," she said and took a few quick steps in front of him. His mouth dropped slightly - as if in disbelief she would dare mock him in such a state. "Why is Friedrich upset with you?"

Dainn readjusted his crutch, eyes narrowed at the ground. "What do you mean?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Octavia shrugged. "He sent you to take me to the dungeons, a journey which includes a trip down some stairs, by the way." Dainn cursed loudly at that. Octavia figured he had probably known that, but given his concentration on moving forward, he forgot the upcoming challenge.

"This is clearly painful for you. I'm presuming this is a punishment."

"Every word out of your mouth is a presumption," Dainn shot back. Octavia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. Dainn swore again. "He's been making me do this since I got back. Apparently, I'm getting a fake leg or something. I don't know. Friedrich wants to make sure I know how to move either way. He's convinced I can still fight."

Octavia tilted her head. "Can you?" she asked.

A hint of resignation crossed his face, but it changed after a moment into something determined. "I can still breathe, can't I?" he asked.

Octavia considered that.

The plotting part of her had already registered that this was good news. He couldn't ride that damn dragon like this. Assuming he was the only one who could control the thing, that worked out perfectly for her.

Another part of her felt as if she had been shaken awake. What sort of life was one where fighting was the equivalent of breathing? Why was this fight so important to him? It felt as though only the righteous should have this sort of determination.

What did that say about the cause he fought for?

"Are you coming?" Dainn asked when Octavia stopped moving, staring through a window into the endless blue of the sky. She didn't answer. Her eyes were caught on the clouds, listening to rippling of wind against leaves. Dainn circle back toward her. "Are you coming?" he repeated.

Octavia reached out, wishing she could snatch the clouds from the air.

She still didn't answer. She stood there, trying to gather her thoughts before finally stepping away from the window and moving toward the dungeons. She thought about offering Dainn some help a few times, but something told her this was meant to be his trial.

"Who did it?" she asked as they took the first step down the staircase that would lead underneath the castle. "Your leg, I mean. Who cut it off?" Dainn rubbed his thigh with a grimace. When he put the crutch down, it slipped over the stone. Octavia quickly stepped in front to steady him before he could fall.

"I don't know," Dainn muttered, pushing her away. It wasn't hard enough to send her toppling down the stairs, but enough so she fumbled. "It all happened so fast. One second, I was fighting, and the next, I was in a medic tent with them telling me my leg was infected."

He cautiously moved down another step. Despite herself, Octavia hovered a little in front of him. The last thing she needed was to be accused of murdering a Revolutionary because he accidentally fell down some stairs.

They continued down the spiraling steps until they reached the dimly lit corridor. Water trickled down the side, the entire place damp and bare.

Antonia was in the third cell to the right. Octavia could make out a thin piece of red silk between the bars. She didn't say anything as she approached, kneeling to reach for her.

"....took you long enough," Antonia's voice whispered when Octavia's hand touched her shoulder. She looked exhausted, with dark circles beneath her eyes and hair a frizzy mess. Octavia squeezed tightly as an apology. "I'm sorry about Nema."

"Nema?" Octavia repeated and then processed the implication. "You were watching," she said. Antonia smiled. Her lips were cracked, so Octavia got up to find some water. "That means your magic works here." She grabbed a pail, dipping it into a well stuck to the side of one of the stone walls. Dainn leaned beside it, observing but saying nothing. "Have you tried to escape?"

Antonia laughed mirthlessly. That would be a yes. Octavia had always viewed Antonia's magic as powerful because it was different. Her parents never agreed. They were right.

"I don't know how to use it as well as I hoped," Antonia muttered, pressing her forehead against the bars. "Do you think the Htraeheans will teach me? That's apparently where I'm getting sent to."

"Htraeh?" she repeated and looked over her shoulder. "Are the Dualians okay with Life's Envoy being sent to Htraeh?" she asked.

Dainn shook his head at her, not in disagreement but annoyance at her question. "Our magistrate had some political discussions with Friedrich," he said. Octavia processed that. She knew Dualis's leader was an elected official - a magistrate, as Dainn said - but she wasn't sure what political exchange would lead to Antonia being sent away while Octavia was married off. "Your mother didn't teach you to use your magic?" he asked Antonia curiously.

Antonia pressed her head against the iron bars. "My mother isn't a sorceress. Everything I learned came from watching Octavia."

"Yes, but-" Dainn began, and then suddenly cut himself off. He stared at them for a moment, brows furrowing together. "Never mind."

Strange. Octavia made note to ask about that later as she put the pail of water outside the cell. Antonia reached through the bars to dip her hands into it, cupping her hands together so she could try to bring it to her mouth and slurp what little didn't slip through her fingers.

Octavia watched her helplessly. "You're not going to Htraeh-"

"I hope I do," Antonia muttered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Octavia frowned. "Let the Htraeheans have me. If I had teachers-"

"The Htraeheans can't teach you a damn thing," Octavia interrupted incredulously. She wouldn't pretend to be knowledgeable about Htraeh's beliefs, but she did know how they felt about magic.

Htraeh was one of the few places that outlawed magic on every level. It couldn't be traded or harvested, or even touched. In their minds, magic belonged to their gods, and using it was the equivalent of stealing a god's powers.

According to Nema, Htraeh's prophecy often referred to a child born of magic, meaning it was not stolen but a gift the gods gave. Antonia could very well be that child, but she was sorely mistaken if she thought the Htraeheans knew anything about using magic.

"You need to go to Cambria. Their Chosen Family has their magic. It's the closest to yours."

Antonia hummed, fingers twitching so that black smoke twisted around them. It disappeared a second later. "I'm going to kill them," she said, voice a little dreamy. Octavia tilted her head. "Friedrich. The Revolutionaries. Everyone who stood by and watched our castle burn. The Dualians. All of them."

Dainn cleared his throat, awkwardly reminding them he was there. Antonia didn't seem to care.

"You're going to be fine-"

"Octavia," Antonia said and reached through the bars again, gripping her. "I will burn them all. I swear. I don't care what happens after that. I don't."

...okay then.

Her eyes burned brighter, the orange somehow flickering as her fingers dug into her skin. Octavia had never feared her sister. Not once. Even when she learned about the magic, Octavia wasn't old enough to be more than confused by it. Now, though... Octavia pulled away uncertainly.

"I'm going to get you out of here," she promised and stood up. Antonia smiled wryly at her. "I'll visit again after Father's rest day," she added. Nothing. No response. Antonia continued to sit there with her head against the bars, fingers skimming over the water Octavia had left in front of her.