8

Oshali woke to a cold and empty tent.

She reached for Tyomar and her hand flailed for a few moments before she realized he wasn’t there. Sitting up slowly, she looked for him, peering beyond the see-through walls of the tent to see if he was nearby. He wasn’t.

An uneasy prickling along her shoulders told her that something was wrong, but she ignored it. He was probably scouting the area to make sure there was no one near the tent. But as midday approached, he was still nowhere to be seen.

Her body ached from their nights together, but it was a pleasurable ache that settled her. Even if she had read every single sexual tale about the dragorai, Oshali would have never imagined how great the experience would be with him. He was beautifully rough, and powerful, and gluttonous in his need, but she craved more every time. She loved his groans and grunts, she loved his hands all over her, squeezing parts of her body he loved to see shake. And when she explored him, licking and sucking to find more potent pools of his intoxicating scent and seed, his growling reaction aroused her beyond measure. She had welcomed all of it, knowing that this experience might not last, and now the ache in her body was almost like a punishment for not heeding her own warning.

She traveled for the whole day thinking he would appear, the familiar cold, depressive gloom encroaching on her inch by inch the longer that he didn’t. It was only as she tried to sleep that night that she realized he was really gone. The usual despair and loss didn’t just overwhelm her this time, it crushed her. It wasn’t impossible that something happened to him, not a dragorai. The likelihood of someone being able to subdue him was too small.

She knew she shouldn’t let it affect her so much—he had been particularly cryptic last night talking about trust. Maybe he had gone for a good reason and maybe he would be back, but while she had hope, she didn’t want to make excuses for him. If he had to leave, he could have at least warned her instead of forcing her to deal with the shock of his absence.

For the next few days, Oshali was disorientated. Tyomar had been such a driving force about where they would go and what they would do that she hadn’t needed to do any of it. She had become reliant on him, and it annoyed her that she had let it happen.

Pulling out her map of the south, she located where she needed to go to find the scroll. The south was made up of seven provinces, each a different size. The scroll was right in the center of one of the central provinces, which meant she would probably encounter the queen’s army or be in close proximity to a potential bombing. She had to find a way to be quick and inconspicuous.

As she decided on her strategy to get to the scroll, tears blurred her vision that she was doing this alone. She’d gotten so used to Tyomar insisting he’d be there that his absence was like a hole in her chest. She blinked her tears away, annoyed with herself, but the smoldering weight of bitterness and negativity remained.

She made a promise to herself to never experience this again. What made it so bewildering and so disrespectful was that she had told him, shared every concerning thought and still he just… left. Taking a breath, Oshali tried to shake off her disappointment. She had to keep moving forward. Now she had the chance to prove to him, and herself, that she could do this mission with no influence or instruction.

With a new plan, Oshali headed towards the provinces eager to finish this mission so she could finally have her freedom, whatever that would look like.

* * *

It was clear the provinces had once been beautiful.

At least, the one that she entered. Cracked and crumbling, the buildings had a style of architecture that clearly came from a specific era of the South’s past but they hadn’t been upkept. Anything that should have been alive; trees, small animals, flowers, had died, just like the many barren lands that they had passed on the way here. Similarly, the people all seemed barren too. They walked like corpses, dressed in layers of dull grey and brown, with dull faces. Many of these people looked like they had no emotion, no joy—like their lives were already over. The busy area was filled with an autonomous busyness but no talking, no laughter, and no voice coming from the people. Even children behaved the same. Oshali couldn’t imagine being born into this. It was horrific and shocking.

Oshali had read about the queen’s need to try to maintain her province as if the war wasn’t happening while she left the rest of the Dominion to rot. She focused all of her time and attention on the war and defending against the king’s attacks. As Oshali walked, many ignored her, although some stopped, staring at her robes as though shocked that the Mheyu still even existed. Oshali wondered where the southern sanctums were, and whether the Mheyu had been left alone or if they had suffered the same fate as the buildings and people in this province.

The scroll’s location was actually a large public fountain that no longer worked. It was in good condition, considering it must have been constructed years ago. Oshali climbed up the steps and looked around for any places a scroll could be hidden, but there was no obvious area. So she used the revealing incantation.

Focusing, she spoke the words, careful to accentuate them correctly and deliver them with the correct pattern, rhythm, and rhyme. Magic swept into existence and filtered over the fountain, gathering in one particular area near in the center. Oshali followed it, peering into the center of the fountain, only to see a little compartment. She knelt and carefully pulled the compartment out. It crumbled to her hands, and she tensed in surprise. It hadn’t looked that weak. But when she brushed away the powdery debris, a tightly sealed scroll sat on her palm.

Oshali held her breath. That felt a little too easy.

Something changed in the air and she immediately noticed that an old magical incantation was at work, but it was too late. She couldn’t move. Panic rose in her chest as she tried everything she could to move her body, to get away from the fountain, but nothing worked. Somehow, she had been immobilized, and couldn’t even cast. She exhaled, remaining alert. This hadn’t been an accident. Someone had been waiting for her to collect the scroll. But why? The Mheyu didn’t identify it as a difficult, protected, or magical item. The scroll didn’t seem to be anything spectacular—it didn’t even have a dowel; it looked just like a piece of parchment that somebody had rolled up and stored away for safekeeping.

Within a few moments, someone arrived

“Good afternoon, guardian,” a voice said next to her. She couldn’t turn her head to look at the speaker and they didn’t enter into her field of vision. “The queen has requested your company.”

Oshali tried to say that she did not want to see the queen, that she was set apart from political meanderings, but she was unable to speak. Guards lifted her onto a royal carriage and as it began to move, Oshali tried to stay calm. She still had the scroll in her hand, so maybe they weren’t interested in that, but the queen was not known for being completely logical.

“Introducing the Mheyu Guardian,” someone announced.

Oshali had been lifted from the carriage and carried into the building that she guessed was the palace. As soon as she was announced, her limbs came back under her control again. Breathing out slowly, she glanced around. The richness of the decor suggested she was in some kind of throne room or that this was an important room where the queen spent her time.

“Welcome, Guardian.”

Oshali spun round. A woman sitting on an enormous golden throne furnished in deep, rich reds, purple and green fabric. The throne was massive, making her appear diminutive, but the huge crown on her head and flowing, fur royal gowns wrapped around her were equally extravagant. Everything she wore was cut to accentuate her shapely body and flaunt her wealth; she did look incredible. “It is a pleasure to host you, Guardian.” Her voice was seductive and her manner pompous, but Oshali expected that.

“It is not a pleasure for me,” she replied. “Why have you interfered with Mheyu affairs?”

“I could ask why you have decided to…” The queen stopped midsentence, her eyes widening. She rose slowly, revealing a gem-crusted gown that split in the middle to show her bare legs, and she stalked down the stairs to Oshali, who stayed alert, ready to cast if necessary. But as the queen came forward, Oshali could not believe her eyes.

The queen looked almost exactly like her. Black hair, slanted brown eyes, and the same shaped lips. The only difference was this woman was truly beautiful, with glowing skin, jet black shiny hair, and sparkling eyes.

Oshali took a step back in shock.

“Oshali?” The queen spoke her name in puzzlement as her eyes drifted down to her Gowns. She stepped closer and touched Oshali’s chin, turning her face from one side to the other as she examined her.

“By the ven!” she breathed, letting her go and stepping back. “It is you.”

“Who are you?” Oshali asked.

The queen gestured to her face. “Can’t you tell?” She looked down again at Oshali’s Gowns, her nose wrinkling. “Why are you wearing that? What have they done to you?”

A sinking feeling appeared in Oshali’s chest. “How do you know me?” she asked more forcefully. “And why have you interfered with Mheyu affairs?”

“It is not Mheyu affairs,” the queen said sharply. “It is my affairs.” She gestured to the scroll still in Oshali’s hand. “Look for yourself.”

Frowning, Oshali slowly unsealed and opened the scroll, her heart pounding with dread. Inside, portrait illustrations of various people were laid out in a diagram. A family tree. Peering closer, she saw that all the women had eerily similar features, though each came across slightly different. All the ones born within the family were given a name starting with the letter O. The queen was near the middle of the tree and looked the haughtiest of them all, if not the most beautiful. The tree narrowed drastically as it went on, and ended with one single female; a swaddled baby with the name “Oshali” next to her.

Oshali’s knees weakened. Was this really her family tree? And if it was, why did the Mheyu send her to collect it for them, saying it was an artifact that was important to the Mheyu? Surely they would know that it was about her? She examined the male and female above her on the tree. Her mother looked identical to her, while her father seemed to have been a royal, based on his clothing.

“They are dead,” the queen said. She had moved back to stand on one of the stairs leading to the throne.

Oshali glanced up at her. “Is there anyone alive from this scroll?”

“Yes.” The queen leaned her weight over onto one hip. “Me and you.”

Oshali frowned. “Why are they all dead?”

“My family has always been under attack.”

“By who?”

The queen smiled. “You are asking more questions than you are giving answers. How have you arrived here?”

Oshali frowned and shook her head. “I just came here to collect this parchment for the Mheyu, everything else is new to me.”

The queen pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes as she assessed Oshali and then walked back to her and smiled. “Welcome home, Oshali,” she said, drawing her into a warm hug.

Oshali stilled for a moment, tears suddenly prickling her eyes. She had dreamed about hearing those words once, maybe when she was seven? She certainly hadn’t been expecting to hear them today, and not from the queen of the south. Blinking them away, she pressed a hand on the queen’s back. “Thank you.”

The queen pulled away and climbed the steps back to her throne. “I assume from your Gowns that you have been with the Mheyu all this time? Twenty-five years?”

Oshali nodded.

The queen cursed as she sat down. “I went to the fucking Mheyu for help and they didn’t tell me you were with them. They are liars and thieves.”

Oshali tried not to respond defensively. Most people misinterpreted the Mheyu’s purpose and became angry with them when it didn’t fit their expectations. But she didn’t know what the circumstances were on this occasion. “You tried to find me?”

“Of course,” the queen said, crossing her sleek legs. “They are the only ones who have people all over the entire realm working solely for one purpose. If anyone had seen or heard of a missing baby, they would be the ones.”

“Searching for babies is not really what they do,” Oshali pointed out.

“You were not just a baby,” the queen snapped. “You are the continuation of an ancient line. There is no other priority for anyone in the south, for anyone who respects the Goddesses, than to get you back.”

Oshali’s eyes widened, her mind completely overwhelmed by everything she was hearing.

The queen’s eyes flicked down to her gown again. “I see the royal blood is still impressive,” she remarked. “You have to be the youngest guardian I have seen.”

Oshali nodded. “I think I am.”

“What sanctum are you from?” the queen asked.

Oshali was vague. “One near the border.”

“I assume they’re not expecting you to come back if they sent you for that?” the queen asked, gesturing to the scroll. “That scroll has been missing since before you were born. Obviously the Mheyu had it.” She cursed under her breath. “They think they are so righteous, stealing artifacts and records and presenting them as truth,” she spat.

Oshali was taken aback. She had read about people who hadn’t been that fond of the Mheyu, but she never heard outright accusations that they were manipulating the facts. Hadn’t that been exactly what Guardian Vy had been worried about happening? Although, Oshali now didn’t know whether there was any real concern about that considering this scroll could not help the Mheyu do anything in that regard.

“Honestly,” the queen continued, “it turns my stomach to see my own blood wearing one of their gowns. I am half-tempted to send the scroll back to their sanctum as a bomb.” She glanced darkly at Oshali. “I’m jesting, sort of. If you are going back, let me know.”

Oshali hesitated. Did they expect her to come back after sending her here? Guardian Vy must have known what she was sending her for, but Guardian Persilda didn’t seem to. Maybe they expected her to stay?

“You don’t have to go back,” the queen said gently. “There is a place for you here. There always has been.”

Oshali was surprised at the queen’s tone, and even more surprised by the invitation. “I’ve only just arrived,” she said hesitantly.

The queen shrugged. “Your place here was secure since your mother announced her pregnancy. But I am happy to show you what that means, if you have time.”

Oshali hesitated. This was all happening so quickly, she didn’t know how she felt about it. Part of her was horrified she was related to the queen, and part of her was glad to know where she came from and that she still had a place. But that was all assuming it was true. “I’d love to see more,” she said finally.

After settling her into a large and luxurious room, the queen took her on a tour of the palace and the immediate grounds.

Her obvious wealth was plentiful and Oshali was shocked at the finery that went into in the palace decor. The queen explained the purpose of every room in the palace, the history of the building and the context of it in the south.

It seemed as though the queen’s family—Oshali’s family—was a royal family line that existed as far back as the Dragorai Age.

“We’ve been much loved here in the south for centuries,” the queen said as they strolled through yet another highly decorated hall. “That’s why our family remained in power.”

“So,” Oshali began hesitantly, “what happened? Why has everyone died?”

“Various reasons,” the queen said. “But if you look at the family tree, you’ll see that there was a point when we stopped being able to have multiple children. We went from giving birth to four or five children to only giving birth to one or two. As an Omega, I’m sure you can understand how horrifying that idea is. I think we were poisoned at some point.”

“Why?” Oshali asked. “Just because the family is wealthy?”

The queen shook her head. “Not just that. It is rumored we come from a line of mortals who bred with one of the Goddess’ creations. One that no longer exists. During the attack on the dragorai, the Goddess’ other beings did not escape either. Many of our line was killed and we had to find ways to protect ourselves. One of those ways was to ensure that our family always rules the south, another was to ensure that our line does not die out. But due to the poison, by the time you were born, you were the only new female. And you still are.”

“So you don’t have any children?”

The queen shook her head. “No.”

That wasn’t necessarily a surprise. The queen looked like she was in her late twenties yet she had to be much, much older if records about the war were accurate. There were magical incantations that could help with maintaining youth, but the queen looked a little more wholesome than that.

They entered a room with enormous gold-frame paintings on all the walls.

“Did you encounter the dragorai at any point?” the queen asked

Oshali glanced at her. “Yes.”

“Have they ever explained why they kidnapped you?”

Oshali breathed shallowly. Tyomar kidnapped her? “I wasn’t aware they had.”

“I’m sure you haven’t been told the truth,” the queen glowered.

“What is the truth?”

“The dragorai came here and destroyed the palace. It had to be for fun because there was no reason for it. A lot of people were hurt, and many killed, and then we noticed you were missing.”

Oshali tried to keep her expression neutral, but she became acutely aware that she hadn’t ever been told exactly how Tyomar found her. While she didn’t believe everything the queen said, if any part of it was close to being true, Tyomar would have to explain it to her. She didn’t see any reason why a dragorai would want to steal a baby, but there were rumors about dragons eating babies and children back when frequent attacks were happening on dragon-kind. There were no actual witnesses of that, but if Tyomar’s and his brother’s dragons did that kind of thing…. it would make her highly uncomfortable.

They stopped by a large painting, and Oshali noticed it was just an empty frame.

“This was where your portrait would be,” the queen said. When Oshali looked around the hall, she realized it was filled with portraits of members of her family.

“Whoa,” she breathed.

The queen smiled. “I know it can be overwhelming, but you are part of this, and it’s part of you. You will have to get used to this way of living.”

Oshali shook her head. “I’m not sure if this way of life is for me.”

The queen raised a brow. “It already is, Oshali. I know you are used to living a simpler life, but you can adapt to this lifestyle, if you are willing. It will become easier for you the more you learn and understand about it.”

Oshali took a deep breath, thoughts crowding her mind. “It sounds as though you want me to stay here,” she asked tentatively

The queen took a deep breath. “I won’t lie. It has been lonely here and I will enjoy the company, but it is your choice. I don’t see how you can go back to your sanctum now with this information that they’ve been holding from you. How can you trust them? At least that is what I would be asking myself.”

And that was indeed what Oshali was asking herself. The Mheyu guardians had her travel across the South Dominion to collect the scroll, and it had nothing to do with what they said it was about. Why would they do that? Was it the wrong scroll?

“Regardless,” the queen said lightly. “Every royal child is owed the legacy of their heritage, if they want it.” She inclined her head. “Of course, if there is somewhere else you belong, you’re much too old to be forced.”

Oshali stared at her. Somewhere else she belonged? She had desperately wanted that to be with Tyomar, but even he couldn’t argue with the point about his mate. Besides, he left her, and she wasn’t sure the Mheyu guardians were an option now.

“You’re welcome to stay for a few days and learn a little bit more about the palace and your ancestry, if that would be of interest to you?”

Oshali did not outright believe everything this woman said, but her Mheyu curiosity urged her to find out more. Doubt had been cast on Tyomar and the Mheyu, and they were the only people in her life whom she’d ever trusted. She needed more information. Oshali smiled back. “Yes, it would, thank you.”

* * *

The next few days, Oshali familiarized herself with the palace and its staff. As much as she wanted to believe that the queen had no agenda, she couldn’t take anything at face value. When she looked around the palace, there was no evidence of any true connection among the staff or the queen—no family, no love, no friendships. Which, Oshali guessed, could be because of the constant bombs that fell on the palace. Strangely, the building didn’t shake or tremble like she would’ve expected it to, but sometimes the destruction would filter into the palace.

One time, a cloud of ember suddenly sprouted in a hallway, blocking off a part of the palace. Oshali had seen it from her balcony and was shocked at how quickly it bloomed; dark grey smoke billowing and capturing everyone in its wake. The very next day, in a different part of the palace, the walls in a section of a corridor began to crack, and the servant standing in the middle slowly exploded as though she was moving underwater—her body tearing apart, blood splattering on the floor and walls, limbs ripped from her joints, and all while she was still alive.

No wonder everyone was terrified and there were no obvious signs of joy. Still, Oshali peppered the servants with questions about the origin of the family and where they resided, but they didn’t know much. When she thought back to the information she had read from the Mheyu, she recalled that there were some notable families in the south that had been historically important, but there was no wealth of information about them. It wasn’t one of the areas of specialty the Mheyu focused on.

It didn’t escape her, however, how strange it was that all the members of her family line were dead, apart from the queen. That fact didn’t seem to be the result of a poison or even assassination, it seemed systematic.

The queen continued to be pleasant, and they dined together frequently, even though the food was too colorful and pretty and sweet for Oshali most of the time. The queen refused the talk about the war or the effect it was having on the palace, calling the king an idiotic waste, who was as greedy as he was pleasing to the eye.

“But I don’t understand how you feel safe here,” Oshali said. “The attacks are so unexpected and so… brutal. You could get caught in ember or impacted by a bomb. Why do you stay?”

“Because this is my home,” the queen said, setting down her goblet of wine. “There are some things that can never be replaced, Oshali. One of them is the feeling of home. Our family has been in this Dominion for decades and whenever we rule, it thrives. When my rule began, this dominion was a civilized, abundant, and affluent place. I refuse to let it descend into savage chaos just because the king is a jealous ass who wants it for himself. I should be able to have the benefit of the wisdom and sacrifices my family made.”

Oshali stared at her plate, moving the food around so the queen wouldn’t see her expression. “But… you want this at the risk of your life?” she finally asked. “You could be killed by staying here.”

The queen shook her head. “I guarantee that will not happen to either of us. There are certain places in the palace where no bomb or ember can penetrate. You will never be taken to any area where you would be at risk.”

Oshali raised her brows. “So why don’t you make the entire palace safe from the attacks? Why do you only focus on certain areas?”

The queen spooned soup into her mouth, savoring the taste before answering. “I find it is better to let the king think that he is succeeding by bombing the palace, and that he may be successful in his attempts one day. It keeps his attention where I want it. And as for the servants who end up getting killed”—she shrugged—”I make sure none of my loyal servants are ever at risk.”

Oshali stared at her for a long moment, a horror blooming in her chest. The queen was willing to allow dangerous ember and bombs into the palace so she could misdirect the king and kill her “disloyal” servants? How could someone be so callous? The queen was more devious in comparison to what she’d read about the king. Her attachment to the south and her home was disturbing, but not nearly as much as if the queen decided Oshali was disloyal or not useful. Would she suddenly find herself in an unprotected area of the palace? It was unsettling to be at the whim of such callousness.

“I can’t pretend to understand what it’s been like for you, Your Majesty,” Oshali began. “But is there any way to broker peace with the king? I’m sure he is unreasonable, but—”

“Oshali.” The queen’s voice turned quietly sharp. She pushed her soup aside and leaned forward. “Have you ever been in love?”

The sudden change in conversation heated Oshali’s cheeks and made her stomach drop at the same time. “Um. Yes.”

“Have you ever given that person power over you and they misused it?”

Oshali’s shoulder dropped an inch. “Yes.”

The queen smiled. “Then you are a tiny fragment closer to understanding why there can never be peace.”

Oshali watched her as she beckoned the servant forward with another plate. “So, instead, you’ll be happy forever in battle with him?”

“I never said I was happy,” the queen said, a smile gracing her face. “But some betrayals can never be undone.”

The next day, the queen took her to visit her parents’ quarters. Oshali was glad to see that the furnishings remained in keeping with the time period. Of course their room may not have been like this when they were alive, but just thinking they might have looked at the same wall decorating that she was now made her feel a sense of comfort.

“How did they die?” she asked the queen as she walked around the room, examining everything.

“Your mother died from severe depression not long after you were taken.” The queen hesitated. “She was very much looking forward to raising you, as was I. You were a miracle to us.”

A deep sorrow embraced Oshali as she looked at all the trinkets sitting on her mother’s bed table. “And my father?”

The queen’s expression was somber. “Your father went after the dragorai. He was never seen again.”

Oshali gasped. “Why? Why did he assume they had taken me?”

The queen shot her a sharp look. “Come with me.”

Oshali followed the queen to the room next door, and when she entered, her mouth dropped open. A top corner of the room had collapsed, leaving an enormous hole in the ceiling. Debris cluttered the room, and it hadn’t been looked after, but it was clear the room had been a nursery.

“This is where you were,” the queen said. She pointed to the hole in the ceiling. “The dragon crashed through there, and reached through with its foot and grabbed you. Your father was in here when it happened; he saw it with his own eyes. There was no assumption made, Oshali. A dragorai-dragon attacked the palace and took you.”

Oshali stood staring at the destruction, her heart pounding in her chest, disbelief threading through every muscle. “Did he have a rider? Was one of the alphas on top of him?”

“When are they not?” the queen responded wryly. “From this angle your father said he couldn’t see whether anyone was riding on the dragon or not, but I very much doubt that any of their dragons traveled this far south without their riders. That, or it was trained to do it.”

Oshali closed her eyes and brought her trembling hands to her lips. No one could train a dragon to do that, especially not a dragorai-dragon. This was a nightmare. Tyomar could not have been involved in this. She refused to believe it, and yet his insistence that she didn’t go on this trip seemed to have a different context now. Had he been trying to hide this? Is this why he disappeared just before they were about to get the scroll?

“Don’t worry, it was a long time ago, Oshali,” the queen said. Her voice was nearer, and when Oshali opened her eyes, the queen stood next to her and held one of her hands. “It was a very traumatic time, and it turned many of my people against the dragorai. They’ve hardly been seen here since.”

Oshali nodded numbly.

“And even if they did return, they wouldn’t be able to get close to the palace.”

Oshali glanced at her, slowly releasing their grip. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been experimenting with ember and its uses.”

“I thought ember was the remnants of used-up magic?” Oshali asked.

“Yes,” the queen said. “But it does have specific qualities of its own that are useful.”

Oshali shook her head. “That’s too dangerous.”

“If it helps to protect the palace, nothing is too dangerous,” the queen said sharply. “And that’s exactly what ember does.”

Oshali said nothing. The queen was clearly very driven about her own personal goals and there was nothing Oshali could say to persuade her from that. Obviously she had suffered devastating events in her life, and she’d found ways to cope; however, Oshali did not see any benefit in what she was doing to the people—of both Dominions. The queen was self-absorbed, her bitterness leading her to destroy the realm—a realm that had once been magnificent.

“This is why you need to stay, Oshali,” the queen said. “You need to carry on their line and our family’s legacy.”

Oshali clenched her hands together. “I’m not sure what to do. I was never told anything about my family, and I never expected to know. I’m not sure if I want a royal life.”

The queen laughed quietly. “I can guarantee you that nobody born into royalty wants it,” she said. “Yes, there are great benefits, but the pressure is crushing.”

“So why do you remain queen? Oshali asked. “If it’s that bad, you could step down?”

“And abandoned our heritage?” The queen shook her head. “No. Besides, I don’t know how to be anything other than a queen.”

As the days went on, Oshali thought frequently about Tyomar, but it was with a resigned disappointment. What the queen had shown her had colored everything she thought she knew about him. Even if she wanted to question him, he was still gone—without a word. Maybe he knew it wasn’t a wise idea, considering the queen’s opinion of him and his dragon. Once she left the palace, she wasn’t sure where she would head, but there was no requirement for her to go back to the Mheyu sanctum now, unless she wanted an explanation. And that was the only way Tyomar would be able to find her.

After a week of being at the palace, Oshali was ready to turn the queen down on her invitation to stay. She packed her travel pouch with some trinkets from her parents’ room and the scroll before going to see the queen. As she made her way to the queen’s throne room, one of the queen’s warriors darted past her and muttered, “Run. She’s not happy.”

Oshali frowned, looking up at the warrior, but she was already hurrying ahead and Oshali couldn’t see her face. Her hair was short, cut like a male’s but in a feminine style. Before Oshali could call out, she disappeared.

Oshali stilled in the corridor. That was strange, but it didn’t mean she shouldn’t pay attention to it. Turning on her heel, she headed back to her room to make sure she had everything, but as she arrived a group of the queen’s warriors were there to greet her.

The queen’s army consisted of three different factions of warriors. The most violent and elite she named the Wardens; an all-female force of destruction dressed in red and black leather. Agile and powerful, these warriors were proficient in defending against magic, which made them a problem for the king when they infiltrated his land.

Oshali decided not to try to fight the twelve of them that came for her. When they told her the queen requested her presence, she followed to see what possible reason the queen could have for putting the guards on her.

But they didn’t take her to the queen.

They took her to a cell.