The Priestess had scrubbed her skin raw and she hadn't even minded. Anything to get the rotting stink of blood down the drain. Her eyes stared into space as whirls of red disappeared, washing far away from her.

Iliya never asked the young woman to help, but the last hour of silence gave her time to collect her thoughts. She would need to be prepared to speak with Qudja and later Ezre. She needed to know more about the journal now perched on her nightstand.

Dressed in oversized sweatpants and a low hanging tunic, she combed her fingers through her hair in an attempt to detangle the long, rippling waves.

She'd even started considering a haircut when she stepped out from the bathing room and found Qudja waiting.

Her friend was eyeing one of the dust sprites with timid fascination, lifting one finger to touch the buzzing wings. The sprite chirped in surprise and fluttered away, leaving Qudja disgruntled.

"Are they pests?" she asked.

Iliya shook her head. "Not particularly, though some might think so."

Qudja smiled, tracing her gaze to a group of them wisping over the bare space on a bookshelf. Straightening, she swiped a hand down her loose skirt.

"You wanted to see me?"

Now that she thought of it, Iliya hadn't laid eyes on Qudja since the attack. The idea unsettled her, leaving her to question where the Chieftain's daughter had been off to.

Hesitation flooded her chest as she walked over to the journal and picked it up. "Do you know where this came from?"

Her friend's eyes danced with unfamiliar emotion. "What is it?"

"A journal. It was left for me two nights ago."

Qudja's gaze flicked back and forth, weighing her words carefully. "I've seen it before."

"How?"

She didn't answer.

"Who is D. R.?" Iliya asked.

Qudja's lips pursed. "It's not that simple, Iliya."

"Of course it is," she argued, stepping around the bed and closing the distance between them. "You know who this is, you must know what's written inside."

Her hazel stare honed in on the book. "Does this mean you've seen Nioreir?"

Iliya's teeth ground into one another as she nodded. "We were attacked while retrieving books from the vault, I deserve to know who sent me there."

"Your condition is sensitive. This might have seemed like a goose chase, but he couldn't risk Destry or Ezre–"

"Qudja? Who?"

"Damien Ravellier, the King of Toskapel," Qudja answered skeptically. "As you might know, he only holds the title because he wished to protect his country from the Fae... Before their conquest failed, he saw the corruption for what it was and left Solraidas. He knows better than anyone how detrimental their purist ways are."

"So he left?"

"Yes, centuries ago."

"Isn't he, himself, Fae?" Iliya asked.

Qudja nodded. "Damien was the first born and the original Fae child... He didn't begin to hate his kind until wars sparked around Solraidas and his sister turned into a tyrant."

The history on how Alette Chakrine ruled Solraidas was skewed, any texts burned or stolen. She was the twin to Andrin, but nothing like him.

"Their power hunger is not something to underestimate," she whispered again.

Iliya knew this all too well with her own father. Despite knowing some piece of his wicked heart loved her mother, Iliya's father was a purest. He did not want hybrid children and he believed Fae the superior race. Leaving Destry because she refused to part with her pregnancy, her father had gone back to ruling over his own district.

Many Fae shared this belief, leaving them isolated from the rest of a blossoming world filled with trade and relations.

Damien Ravellier was rumored to be the first known King to support free rights to choice and knowledge. He didn't govern religion or love, only taking the crown in Zavere's province so he might raise an army which would protect those he wished to serve.

He was the one who wrote those journals.

D. R.

Iliya wracked her brain for more information, trying and failing to recall any other stories.

"He wrote all this? Why?"

Qudja considered this for a moment before sighing. "It's complicated."

"Then help me understand, Qudja," she pleaded.

"Those books he had you locate, they're for you..."

"Me?"

"Yes. You."

Iliya blinked, tracing the leather binding against her fingertips. "What on earth could he possibly want with me?"

"Damien knew there would be a day where Ezre would fail to tell you abo–"

A knock on the door sent Iliya jumping out of her skin. The taps were impatient and quick, breaking the tension.

She watched as Qudja readied herself to flee, pointing a finger at her in command. "No you don't," she whispered sternly. "Just a minute!"

The knocking didn't stop, only emphasized by a disgruntled growl. That told Iliya enough. Her grandfather normally didn't bother with pleasantries. Nor did he particularly appreciate being shoved off.

"I can come back later," Qudja said, looking uncomfortable.

"Iliya!" Ezre barked, knocking one last time. "Now."

Conflicted between finding the answers she needed and keeping her hide intact, Iliya glanced between the door and Qudja again.

"Do you swear it?"

"I promise," Qudja smiled softly, resting a hand on Iliya's shoulder. "You will have many questions once you've read those books. Find me then."

Before she could ask anything else, Qudja opened the door to a wildly frustrated King and bowed before slipping away.

Ezre's clenched jaw relaxed a little bit, a hint of embarrassment coloring his neck.

"I apologize, I didn't realize you had company."

Normally amused by her grandfather's sudden changes in behavior, Iliya couldn't place the odd sensation in her chest. Perhaps bitterness, she thought, though she'd been disgruntled before. The feeling resembled a disconnect, as if being interrupted were an emotion.

"No one ever does," she said, sighing. Iliya moved to sit on her bed, bracing herself against a wooden beam. "Let's have it then."

"Have what?"

"You're here to tell me what a foolish decision it was to break into Nioreir unattended, not to mention dragging the Prince along with me," she explained. "You'll curse the stress I've given you lately and either punish me with training or another round of trials, both if you're agitated enough. So please, just get it over with."

Ezre blinked, thoroughly caught off guard. He opened his mouth to speak only to close it again.

Iliya knew she had spoken too soon, anxiety tensing her muscles. She felt bad for unloading on him, but she was sick and tired of his lectures. She wasn't a little girl anymore.

As he reconciled her outburst, he seemed to settle on a similar thought.

"Have I really been so repetitive?" He muttered rhetorically. Ezre sighed and shook his head. "Well then, shall we try something new?"

The idea of a new form of punishment sent ripples of fear through her stomach.

Iliya's brows furrowed suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

"Rhydian is still unfit for duty and I need a secondary Navigator," he explained. "While I was able to ask Elliott to substitute his role, I still need someone to chart the waters during our journey."

She'd never been as close to her Cousin's brother, having shared barren conversation that left her feeling oddly ignored. Elliott hunted well enough, passing his training and even several medals among the Guard. Iliya simply couldn't relate to his aloof tendencies and lack of general warmth.

Spending so much time without Rhydian also nagged at her, a sadness creeping in.

"You'd have me as Navigator? For punishment?" Iliya demanded, unraveling his statement with caution. Ezre would know this seemed more rewarding than not. "You were coming to collect me regardless, weren't you?"

"That's irrelevant," Ezre said.

"Where are we going?" she asked, unsure of his implications. "With the Taqrias still threatening Chiori, an expedition sounds irresponsible."

Ezre stepped into her room and shut the door behind him, creating privacy. "Normally, I'd agree with you, but this time... There is urgent information forcing me to consider alternative options."

Urgent?

He still wouldn't answer her, a pensive look on his face. If he needed to hide information from her, the least he could do was explain their destination.

Iliya frowned. "Where are we going?" she repeated, deeply drained by the secrecy.

She wasn't going anywhere without an answer.

"Azuris," Ezre said, his stern face turning grave. "We leave for Azuris at first light."