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She nods obediently. “However, I do not recognize who he was with, your highness.”

Hearing the verbal confirmation from her releases some tension in my chest. I smile wanly and say, “There are so many nobles sequestered in this capital. One could throw a rock out their window and accidentally hit an earl.”

It’s an old joke about how concentrated the center of power is in the capital, one that teases a grin from Sage.

“Will you still be going to the lady’s room?” she asks, referencing my earlier excuse that I nearly forgot about.

“Oh? Oh, yes. Yes, I will. Keep watch. Don’t let any riffraff in or it’ll be your head.” My words sound like a joke, but only I know they aren’t.

I bite a nail as I do my business, my hands temporarily free from the excessively long opera gloves. Finn is no longer the easy-going knight of the royal guard whose intentions were unquestionable. Now he’s a duke with his own politics and interests, and it appears some of those interests may fall in line with Lord Bromely, who leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

.....

It’s like a taunt, for the old man to present right beneath my father’s nose. The extent of his hidden connections and power are unfathomable, like an ancient tree with roots extending miles in every direction. If it were to be uprooted, would it cause the ground to become unstable and crumble?

I’ve paid enough attention in history class to know that such an environment creates a fertile ground for rebellion and uprising. Instead of just myself being beheaded, the entire family could be put to the guillotine like in France. Or we could become mere figureheads like the British monarchy, trotted out like show ponies every now and then to please the public.

But then again, the devil on my shoulder whispers in my ear, chaos breeds opportunity. Opportunity I should take advantage of while I still have the narrow window of opportunity.

“Goddamnit, why did I have to become a princess?” I curse to myself, burying my face in my hands. Why could I just be the beloved daughter of some rich but inconsequential nobleman? Why me?

“Your highness?” Sage knocks on the door.

“Not now!” I call back. My pity party has only just begun.

I expect to hear her footsteps walking away, but she knocks again. “Your highness, there appears to be a disturbance of some sort. It would be wise for you to return to the imperial box seat.”

“A disturbance?” In a flash, I finish up my affairs and open the door. “What sort of disturbance?”

Sage looks frazzled, her hands wringing at the fabric of her dress like she can’t wait to run away.

“I wasn’t quite sure. But it would be good for us to leave as soon as possible.”

“Alright,” I answer obediently. The small privy room was not the best setting for a proper pity party anyways. We emerge into the same hallways I’d previously had the shock of my life, but there isn’t a soul present. But as the door shuts with a click behind us, I can hear what Sage spoke of. It’s muffled, but there is most certainly an altercation of some sort in the hallways ahead of us, one involving multiple people.

Rather than turning heel and running away, I try to pick my way through the multiple sounds, which seem to just be muffled thuds and low curses. No weaponry has been unsheathed yet.

“You are not afraid?” Sage asks directly in my ear, surprisingly me out of my careful analysis of the fight. For someone who is secretly experienced in combat, Sage is quite good at pretending to be a timid mouse. It’s almost like we’ve swapped roles, her and I.

“I... am experienced in this sort of matter,” I tell her loosely. “The fight seems to be winding down. Shall we go see what the matter was?”

“That doesn’t sound safe, your highness. I would advise that we return to the box as soon as we can.” The opera seems to agree as their singing swells to a crescendo that I can hear even from these back hallways.

“Do you ever have those moments,” I ask suddenly. “Where you thought you knew someone and it turned out you didn’t?”

“Your highness?” Sage stares at me like I’ve sprouted another head on my shoulders.

“People are fickle,” I mutter bitterly, a bleach blonde Duke coming to mind.

“They can be, but it’s always to your benefit to seek the good in others. That is what-”

“Your mother told you? Or your aunt?” I interrupt. The fight really is quieting down in front of us. “I like you Sage. I really do.”

“Thank you, your highness,” Sage responds. I can practically hear her blush in her tone.

“I like you a whole lot more than Emma. You are more fun. You are smarter. You understand me in a way that she didn’t.” I take her hand. The warmth of her palm permeates through the thin gloves and I faintly wonder if she’s ever killed anyone with these hands that are still small like my own. “I wish to have you become one of my attendants so you can attend more official events with me in the future.”

“Your highness!” Sage gushes. I’m sure my every word is like music to her ears.

“But for me to make that kind of decision. I need to be sure that you are loyal to me. You understand don’t you? I already know your heart is true to me but I just wish to be certain beyond any doubt. ” I pat the back of her hand slowly.

“What would you have me do?” she asks with an eagerness that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. “I need you to...” I lean in and whisper my command in her ear, delighting in the way her eyes comically widen into circles.

“Your highness!” she squeals again, with far less excitement than the first.

I give her back an innocent, clueless look of my own. “Am I asking too much of you? Of course, of course. How could I have been so foolish to think we were so close-”

“No! I mean, it is not a problem for me fulfill your... request, your highness,” Sage ekes out, making a face like I just told her to chew broken glass. If only my request of her was so easy.

We return to the lady’s room, where I promptly knock over a decorative floral vase. The crash to the floor makes my heart jump as I anticipate that which comes next.

“Go on,” I urge. “Pick it up!”

She bends down and picks up the largest shard, one with a wicked pointed edge that draws blood on her exposed finger immediately. It’s funny, how calm I am at the sight and thought of blood. The last of my racing heartbeat dies down as I display the kindest of smiles I can possibly muster. It’s the one I show to the hoards I heal at the Grand Temple, the one I used to show maids so that they wouldn’t mistreat me. I do not doubt its potency and effectiveness.

“Careful, Sage,” I sigh softly, taking her hand with all the tenderness a mother would use for her child. The cuts heel immediately and I even take care to wipe off the leftover blood with a towel.

“See? All better now,” I stare her dead in the eye, supplying false reassurance. “Shall we go back out now?”

“Yes!” she chirps.

It is completely silent now. We march ahead, as if unafraid of what lies before us in the halls. I can hear Sage’s breath come out faster and faster. Trained as she may be, I know she never expected this sort of situation when the empress told her to get close to me.

“Hey, look at me,” I call just before we round the corner where the aftermath of the fight awaits.

I grab her face with both hands, her sweat seeping into the thin opera gloves.

“No matter what, I am here. Just follow my lead. And once we help, I shall see to it that you are rewarded greatly,” I promise. My right hand that still holds her head crosses its fingers, but she cannot see it and even if she did, Sage wouldn’t know what that meant. Only Emma would.

“Sage?”

“Yes?”

“You are like a sister to me,” I tell her. And it’s not a lie technically, depending on which of my “sisters” you take into account. Today, unfortunately, it is Julia, the one I truly dislike.

Heavy panting meets the ear immediately. A figure is pressed to the ground, the gray hairs on his head informing me that it is Lord Bromely. Several members of the royal guard surround him with their swords, while Duke Finn presses him to the ground.

I cock my head to the side in surprise as they turn to face me with similarly gobsmacked looks.

“Your highness?” Duke Finn asks, staring at me as if he’s seen a ghost.

“What is this? Who is this?” I ask, casting wide eyes on Lord Bromely’s figure like I’ve never seen him before. I make sure to get it out before Lord Bromely can out the fact that we’ve met and perhaps jeapordize my tenuous position within the palace. A few facts are confirmed for me in this few seconds of shock from all parties:

A. Duke Finn is closely aligned with my father, more so than I had thought.

B. Lord Bromely is very much a wanted man.

C. My plan still works in this surprising scenario, perhaps even better than I had imagined.

“Is that the princess?” Lord Bromely grunts from the floor. His head breaks free from the full body hold and swivels towards me, keen eyes seeming to read through me like a book. Too bad I’ve got a twist chapter incoming.

“You dare to lay eyes on the princess, you criminal?” Duke Finn barks, pressing his knee even harder into Lord Bromely’s spine. It’s amusing to see him partaking in the same actions as the knights of th royal guard, only in a formal suit rather than his usual knight uniform.

“Princess, it may be best for you to return to your seat. This is no sight for a young child such as your self,” Finn warns again after punishing the lord for his transgression.

“There is no sight a child of the imperial family cannot handle. Is that not so, Winter?” Lord Bromely says calmly in a low voice from the floor. His tone is slightly muffled from his face being pressed onto the floor, but his words are unmistakable. “You look far more comfortable today than when I saw you last. But know this, you are no promised child. You are cursed, girl. Cursed.”

“Silence!” Duke Finn barked. Slamming the hilt of his sword onto Lord Bromely’s head. But it just seemed to excite the old man even more.

“You will die, just like your mother!” he coughs before letting out with a laugh. “But not me. I shall live forever!”

“Take him away!” Finn yells, causing the other royal guards to leap into action. Sage is skittish beside me, no doubt waiting for my command for her to strike. But I am transfixed by every word pouring out of Lord Bromely’s mouth. He is many things: kingmaker, advisor, former chancellor. But the lord has never struck me as a liar, even on that dark day in the Tower.

“Have you met him yet? I can see it in your eyes, he is close to you.” The lucidity fades from Lord Bromely’s eyes, his word a feverish torrent escaping his lips and flooding my ears. “Walking by you step by step perhaps under the mask of a close friend. If it isn’t he who shall kill you, then your curse shall. And with that sacrifice, he shall bless his followers with eternal life. I shall live again! As the Devourer wills it, so it shall be!”

He smiles and does something strange, no longer looking at me, but through me. Almost as if he’s ascended to a higher plane or reached a level of consciousness that the rest of us are not aware of. But more critically, he will soon fall into my father’s hands, which will not bode well for me at all.

“Your highness, if you could please step back?” A royal guard practically teleports to my side, all but ushering Sage and I down the hall that leads to the imperial box seat.

“Go.” It’s so quiet, it sounds like an exhale when I mutter the word to Sage.

“How dare you offend my master the princess!” roars Sage with impressive fervor. “Die!”

Maybe it was shock. Maybe it was luck. Most likely, it was just her own skill. But with that battle cry, Sage obediently charged towards the aging Lord Bromely and buried the piece of vase deep into his chest. Just like I told her to. Sort of.