Chapter Eight

VITALIYA

 

Vitaliya woke to a few thin shafts of morning sunlight filtering through the shutters, and the weight of Ioanna’s body pressed against her own. One of Ioanna’s arms splayed across Vitaliya’s chest, and her face rested against Vitaliya’s shoulder.

After a few minutes of deliberation, Vitaliya decided she did not need to hide in a wardrobe or sneak out the window. She probably shouldn’t be here, but logic dictated Ioanna could do whatever she wanted. Who would reprimand the future empress? Maybe her grandmother. But Vitaliya could not bring herself to worry about an old lady, even if she’d once been one of the most powerful women in the world.

Ioanna always appeared so solemn and thoughtful, but in sleep she seemed happier. She did not quite smile, but she was relaxed, and her breathing was soft and deep. Vitaliya played absently with Ioanna’s dark curls, winding them around her fingers.

Soon enough, the pattern of Ioanna’s breathing changed, and she opened her eyes. Vitaliya smiled at her.

“Hello,” she whispered.

“I’m a Truthsayer,” said Ioanna.

Vitaliya blinked at her lazily. “You’re supposed to say, ‘good morning’ or something like that.”

Ioanna stared at her for a long moment. Finally, she said, “Good morning, then.”

“And there’s no Truthsayers in Ioshora.”

“Yes, there are. They have one in Ibaia. An old man. And there’s me.”

“Oh.” Vitaliya rubbed at one of her eyes, not awake enough to be impressed by this yet. “It’s a secret, then?”

“Yes.”

“That’s too bad. I’m terrible at secrets.” She rotated her wrist to rub at her other eye. “You should not have told me.”

“I can’t believe I did.” Ioanna’s face was difficult to read. “I don’t know why I did. I wasn’t planning on it. It just happened. Are you upset?”

“About what?”

Ioanna shrugged, a bit awkwardly since she was still resting on her side. “You don’t feel like it’s an invasion of your privacy that I can tell when you’re lying?”

“It’s not like you asked to be blessed with—oh, wait!” Vitaliya brightened up as an idea approached her. “That’s why the Order of the Sun likes you so much, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“That makes sense.” Vitaliya closed her eyes again and pressed her face into the feather pillow. The sheets on this bed were so wonderfully soft and smooth against her bare skin. “Is that all?”

“I think so.”

“No other secrets to tell me?”

“None that I can think of at the moment,” said Ioanna. Still, from the way she bit her lower lip and refused to meet her eyes, Vitaliya could tell she wanted to say something more.

“What’s the matter?” she prompted.

Ioanna moved her fingers, brushing them across Vitaliya’s skin. “You stayed.”

“Was I supposed to leave?”

“No!” Ioanna cried, surprising Vitaliya with her vehemence. Then, perhaps realizing most of the residents of the villa were probably still asleep, she lowered her voice. “I just, I thought you might.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Just a…a feeling I had.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” In Vitaliya’s opinion, nobody in Xytae spent enough time talking about their feelings. “It might help.”

“I don’t want…I don’t want you to feel like you need to, to—” Ioanna struggled for the words. “—to coddle me. To treat me like you care for me, or we’re courting, if that’s not how you really feel. I know you think I’m some delicate thing that needs love and protecting, but I don’t want that out of pity, or because you feel guilty—”

“I don’t feel guilty,” Vitaliya said calmly. “Maybe I do pity you a little bit, but I’d feel sorry for anyone in your place, and it’s not why I came to you or why I stayed afterwards. I don’t do that sort of thing.”

“What do you want, then?”

“I told you last night. Chickens. And my dresses back.”

“What do you want from me?”

Vitaliya shrugged. “What are you offering?” When Ioanna only blinked at her in confusion, she laughed. “Why don’t you tell me what you want?”

Clearly Ioanna had not been expecting Vitaliya to turn the question on her. As she struggled to come up with a reply, Vitaliya said, “If you want me to come back tonight, and the night after, I will. If you want me to stay in my own room, I will.”

“So, this was meaningless?”

“No. I don’t think so. Temporary things can still be meaningful. Meaningful things can be temporary. It doesn’t cheapen them.”

“I don’t want to be…to be temporary,” said Ioanna. “And maybe that’s a ridiculous, impossible thing to want. But—”

“I don’t think so. Plenty of people prefer long courtships.”

“Yes, but our situation is different. Now isn’t a very good time for—and besides, I’m meant to be empress.”

“You worry too much,” said Vitaliya. “Why don’t you just let it happen? And see where it leads?”

“Maybe,” whispered Ioanna. Then she gave a little sigh. “I should get up.”

“Empresses get up when they feel like it,” said Vitaliya.

“I’m not an empress. And besides, we have a lot of work to do.”

“I find the act of working to be morally indefensible.” Vitaliya paused. “Do you think I could get some new dresses made? I’ve only got the one.” And it seemed she’d lost track of it. She shifted to peer over the edge of the bed and spotted a bundle of mostly white fabric crumpled on the floor. When she reached out to pick it up with her little finger, she noticed how dirty it had become in the last few days and grimaced. She really did not want to put it back on.

“Some of Netheia’s should be in the next room. You’ll probably fit better in hers than mine until you can get new things.” Ioanna gestured vaguely at the wall in the direction of the next guest room. Then her hand fell back down to the soft mattress.

“So you’re really a Truthsayer, then? That’s not a joke?”

“I wouldn’t make a joke about something like that.”

“Why haven’t you told anyone? People would be very impressed. I’m already very impressed.”

“I’m not sure,” murmured Ioanna. “My parents didn’t want anyone knowing. They always told me if people found out they’d hate me, and I’d be in danger. More danger than usual.”

“Why would anyone hate you for that?”

“Reygmadra is the patron of my family and has been for as long as anyone can remember. It’s bad enough I don’t have her blessing at all. Iolar is very nearly her opposite, and I have the most powerful magic he grants. It would upset people.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Being a Truthsayer is—it’s one of the most impressive blessings that exists! If I was a Truthsayer, my father would try to make me his heir even over my brother. And he would have a good chance of succeeding because at least half the court would agree.”

“Well, my blessing only tells me if someone is lying on purpose,” said Ioanna. “So maybe it was only my parents’ opinion. Or maybe people in Xytae are different from people in Vesolda.”

“Does Netheia know about your blessing?”

“Yes, she realized it when we were both very young. But she’s never told anyone, I don’t think. Aside from her, the only ones who know are my younger sister Iulia, my grandmother, and the priests of Iolar in Xyuluthe.”

“And the Order of the Sun.”

“Yes.”

Vitaliya sat up and stretched her arms wide. Her upper back made a satisfying noise. “Tell people. Tell everyone. They won’t hate you; they’ll make you empress. They might make you empress even if your father was a farmer.” She paused. “Was that a lie?”

“No. Like I said, it doesn’t catch opinions. Or jokes, or figures of speech. I think it’s more about intentions than words.”

“When someone does lie, what happens?” asked Vitaliya. “I mean, how can you tell?”

“I can feel it in my mind,” said Ioanna, touching a finger to her forehead. “Small lies are softer like a pinch. Big lies can feel like being struck in the face. When I hear too many all at once, I start to get sick. That’s why I don’t like large crowds.”

“That’s terrible. Blessings shouldn’t cause you pain.”

Ioanna shrugged. “I don’t know. But I understand why most Truthsayers join the Order of the Sun. I’d love to live among people who are forbidden to lie. If this all goes badly, and I don’t end up dead, I’ll probably join them.”

“It won’t go badly. Don’t think like that,” said Vitaliya. “If you’ve got a blessing like yours, Iolar must mean for you to be empress. There’s no way around it.”

“And Reygmadra means for me not to be empress.”

“Oh, who cares what she thinks? We all know Iolar is more important.”

“Maybe in Vesolda.” But a smile pulled at Ioanna’s lips, and she sat up as well.

“Oh!” cried Vitaliya. “There’s a bath in here!”

“What?”

Vitaliya nearly fell out of bed to approach the enormous square basin in the corner of the room. It was full, and when she dipped one hand in, the water was surprisingly warm—probably heated from below by pipes, something Xytan architecture was famous for. “Was this here last night?”

“No,” said Ioanna flatly. “They installed it while we were asleep.”

Vitaliya tried to splash Ioanna, but she was too far away for the water to reach, and so it just landed uselessly on the tiles between them. “You’re meant to be a Truthsayer! How are you able to lie?”

“My blessing doesn’t prevent me from lying.”

“Then why are you called a Truthsayer if you don’t have to say the truth all the time? You should be called…” Vitaliya paused to think up something really good. “Truth…determiner.”

“Shall I pass your suggestion along to the temple?”

“Yes, you’d better!” Vitaliya slid one leg into the water. “Oh, this is so nice. How did I manage to not spot this?”

Baths in Xytae were different than baths in Vesolda. Instead of free-standing tubs, they were enormous, sometimes as big as ponds, and usually sunken into the floor. Apparently Xytan people did not care very much about being seen without their clothes on because whole groups of people would use them at once without caring. Vitaliya found this very strange, but the baths in the Imperial Palace had been far more private than the ones in the city, and so she’d taken hers at odd hours when she knew very few people would be around, and never spent too long in them for fear someone might come along. Vitaliya could not really be called modest, and she certainly was not ashamed of her body, but going around in public without any clothes on simply was not done in Vesolda, and she didn’t think she’d ever be comfortable with it.

She submerged her head beneath the water, imagining the grime and sweat of the last few days coming loose and drifting away. When she came up again, Ioanna was watching her.

“You should come in too,” said Vitaliya. “It’s so nice.”

“I don’t have time.”

“Don’t have time to get clean? Aren’t you supposed to be convincing people you ought to be empress? It will be easier if you’re not covered in dirt.”

Ioanna gave her a look. “I have time for a bath but nothing else.”

“I will sit on my hands,” promised Vitaliya.

Ioanna stepped into the bath. She was thin and willowy, a stark contrast to most of the Xytan women Vitaliya had encountered, who were all lean and muscular. Vitaliya supposed this fit with everything she’d heard about Ioanna and her lack of interest in athletics, but she had the sense, though, Ioanna was a little bit unhappy with her body. Perhaps it was just one more thing to set her apart from her family.

Vitaliya’s mind went to her own family. She had certainly not forgiven her father, but she would admit he came out ahead of Ionnes, at least when it came to paternal instinct. And while she sometimes felt distanced from her brother, she could say with complete confidence that he had never seriously contemplated murdering her, and if he had, she’d done something to deserve it.

As for their respective mothers…Vitaliya had only caught glimpses of Enessa during her time in the Imperial Palace. This wasn’t entirely unexpected since she was essentially running the empire in her husband’s absence, but Netheia had barely mentioned her except to complain. Ioanna hadn’t said much about her either.

Vitaliya’s own mother, Queen Isabetta, died when Vitaliya was fifteen. Her illness had not been a plague or something the priests of Adranus could easily heal. Vitaliya still didn’t completely understand it even though the priests had done their best to explain.

They’d kept her alive for as long as they could, burning out the disease wherever they could find it in her body. But nothing could prevent it from rallying and re-growing. In the end, Isabetta had announced she no longer wished for the priests to treat her, for the daily infusions of magic were leaving her just as weak and disoriented as the illness.

Vitaliya could not be angry at her mother for that.

The entire country had mourned her loss, and Vitaliya had always assumed her father would never remarry, or if he did, it would surely be a political alliance because how could he ever love someone the way he had loved Isabetta?

“What’s the matter?” asked Ioanna, and Vitaliya realized she’d been glaring at the surface of the water. She looked up and smiled.

“Oh, nothing,” she said. “Just thinking too hard. Not about you—about my family.”

“Your family?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it!” Vitaliya waved her hand. “It’s nothing, especially compared to all this.”

“I’m sure you’d like to send a courier to your father?”

“No!”

“But he must be concerned—”

“I want him to be concerned,” said Vitaliya. “I want him to be sorry.”

Ioanna didn’t say anything, but Vitaliya could sense she did not quite approve of this.

“Don’t worry!” cried Vitaliya. “I mean it! My problems are so silly compared to yours. I don’t want you to be thinking about them. Really.”

“If you insist,” murmured Ioanna.

“Shh, let’s talk about something else,” said Vitaliya. “Tell me what the Order of the Sun wants to do. Are there enough of them to stand against the army?”

“No,” said Ioanna. “At least, not under ordinary circumstances. But most of our soldiers are in Masim right now. So long as they’re not called back, I think we might have a chance. Knight-Commander Livius wants us to recruit more supporters. Enough to get into the city before the coronation. But it’s not enough just to gather an army. We need to be able to feed them, get them weapons, and possibly train them if they’ve only ever been farmers or laborers in the past.”

“Well…” Vitaliya’s voice trailed off as she realized she had no idea where one might even begin with that. “How are you going to do it?”

“Grandmother thinks we can get support from some of the lesser noble families. I don’t mean to doubt her, but—”

“Families that aren’t at court, you mean?”

“Yes, primarily.”

“That makes sense,” said Vitaliya. “With everything we’ve seen, I mean. Doesn’t it? Everyone in the palace has to act happy with the emperor—or maybe they really are happy, I don’t know. But out here, there’s no pretending, is there?”

“I suppose not. Still, I can’t imagine any of them agreeing. If I fail, they’ll lose everything.”

“Given how things are going, they’re going to lose everything either way,” pointed out Vitaliya. “That is, unless they all pick up with Acydon. I still can’t believe we met a chaos god, by the way. And I can’t believe he was just some man with bad clothes.”

“Well, he was only a very little god,” said Ioanna. “And his domain was only apathy. I don’t expect he’ll ever become very influential.”

“Do you think you’ll send the Order of the Sun after him?”

“I don’t think he should be our priority right now. There’s so much else that needs to be done. And I know Iolar would hate for those people to go on worshipping him, but maybe it’s for the best right now. He didn’t lie when he said he’s done more for them than the nobility has.”

“That’s not your fault,” said Vitaliya. “You know that, don’t you?”

“I know,” murmured Ioanna. “But I can’t help but wonder, if I’d only known about this before…if I could have changed things. How many of our citizens died of starvation while I sat in a palace?”

“You can’t think like that! You’re going to make everything so much better. People are going to love you.”

Ioanna was the first to step out of the bath, wrapping herself in one of the soft linen sheets that had been left near the edge for drying. Vitaliya watched as she got up and went to the wardrobe to select a new dress. Unlike the one she had been wearing for the last few days, this one was made of fine, light material and had a long skirt that reached her ankles.

Vitaliya pulled herself out of the water with a great deal of reluctance. She did not want to put her old dress back on, given the state of it. Somehow, she had not noticed how awful and stained and dirty it had become when they’d been traveling. But now, she could think of nothing else. She only pulled it on because the alternative was walking around with nothing on, and even though that might have been acceptable in Xytae, she would not be able to bring herself to do it. Then she went to go find Netheia’s room.

The first door in the direction Ioanna had indicated was in fact the same one Vitaliya had been shown to yesterday. She hadn’t spent much time in it since there were so many other rooms to explore, but the decorations suggested it was Netheia’s. Weapons hung from every wall—though even Vitaliya could tell most of them were ornamental and far too impractical to ever use in a real fight.

She opened the wardrobe and began to sort through the dresses. Luckily, Netheia was larger than her sister, or at least not as thin. She selected a midlength dress in pale-blue fabric and was relieved when it fit nicely.

More out of nosiness than necessity, Vitaliya continued to search through the standing wardrobe. She pulled open the drawer at the base and found more folded clothing. As she lifted a few of the garments up, she uncovered a small coin purse and a short dagger in a sheath.

Vitaliya unsheathed the dagger carefully. She thought it might be blunt or rusty since Netheia hadn’t mentioned visiting her grandmother recently, but it seemed sharp. And unlike the weapons on the wall, this one was obviously meant to be used. It was small enough she was able to slide it into her shirt. She did not think she would need it inside the former empress’s villa, but she’d spent the last few days feeling so vulnerable that she did not think it would hurt to carry it with her.

There was a soft knock at the door, and Vitaliya hurried to open it. Ioanna was waiting there for her.

“Are you ready?” she asked. “I’m sure they’ve prepared something for us to eat.”

Vitaliya hadn’t really expected Ioanna to wait for her, especially since it seemed she had so much to do, and so the inclusion warmed her. She liked being with Ioanna, despite their differences, and hoped Ioanna was starting to feel the same way.

The stereotype of the devoted follower of Iolar was not precisely a pleasant one—a person who prized order over compassion and ritual over meaning, obsessed with rules and hierarchies, and generally opposed to having fun. But she didn’t think Ioanna fit that image. Yes, anyone could see she had a very strict sense of justice and preferred peace and quiet over noise and chaos, but there was more to her. In fact, Vitaliya suspected her reserved nature had less to do with her devotion to Iolar and more to do with her upbringing, and her fear of what the consequences of expressing herself honestly might be.

And, of course, there was the matter of her blessing. Truthsayers featured in legends far more frequently than they did in reality. Vitaliya paused to examine her feelings on this. Was she afraid of Ioanna? No. Not really. Did she feel as though she must watch her words, or to think carefully before she spoke in her presence? Again, no. Was that foolish? Perhaps. But Vitaliya had no intention of deceiving Ioanna. Keeping track of lies tended to be more trouble than it was worth.

Ioanna led Vitaliya down the halls and into a large dining room, which had been set with food but contained no people, not even Irianthe’s servants. They sat down beside each other to eat.

“I wonder how Otho is doing,” murmured Vitaliya around a too-large mouthful of bread. “I’ll be so sad if he left without saying goodbye.”

“He better not have,” said Ioanna. “We’ve got to reward him for his trouble. And I’d feel better if he remained here until this is settled. He could be in danger.”

“I don’t know if you’ll be able to convince him. He’s going to want to get back to his villages. Especially at this time of year.”

“I know,” sighed Ioanna. “But if something happens to him just because he aided us, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“What do you think might happen?” asked Vitaliya. “None of those priestesses would have any way of knowing he helped us. They’d leave him alone. Wouldn’t they?”

“I’m not sure,” murmured Ioanna. “I just have this feeling it’s not only priestesses after us. Do you remember what Acydon said? That she’d coerced more people over to her side?”

“He was telling the truth?” Even knowing Ioanna’s blessing, Vitaliya was skeptical. Surely a chaos god would have lied? Just on principle? “Well, who else would Netheia send?”

“I don’t think he was talking about Netheia at all,” said Ioanna.

“Who, then? Your mother?”

The sound of sharp footsteps on the cold tile floor cut off whatever Ioanna was about to say. Both young women turned to see Irianthe enter the dining room.

“Finally, there you are,” she said. “Ioanna, finish quickly and come to my study. We must begin planning.”

“I’ll come too,” said Vitaliya.

“That will not be necessary,” Grandmother Irianthe replied in a clipped, impatient tone. “This matter does not concern Vesolda.”

“It’s all right, Vitaliya,” murmured Ioanna. “It’s probably going to be very boring anyway. You should find out where Otho went. And I’ll come find you when I’m finished.”

Vitaliya was not happy to be excluded, but she decided she would try to cooperate for Ioanna’s sake. And besides, while she wanted to be near Ioanna, especially now, she had to admit she was not at her most attentive during meetings of statecraft.

Vitaliya decided to go in search of the stables, for she knew Otho’s wagon had been brought there after their arrival. She didn’t exactly know the way but decided that trying to find it on her own, rather than asking for help, might be a good way to pass the time while she waited for Ioanna to return.

Vitaliya made her way through the enormous garden, brushing the plants with her fingertips as she passed. She did not press any magic into them, for they would bloom in their own time, but she liked to feel the life pulsing through them and to sense their slow, steady breathing.

As she came to the center of the garden where all the plants converged symmetrically around a large, empty fountain, she realized she was not alone. A woman was sitting on one of the low stone benches, her hands in her lap and her expression distant. From the plain, simple way she was dressed, Vitaliya might have mistaken her for a servant, but she wore no apron or head coverings, and her hands were soft and smooth.

“Hello,” said Vitaliya, not wanting to sneak up on the woman. But nevertheless, she startled, rising briefly but sharply from where she was seated.

“Oh!” said the woman. “I’m sorry. I was lost in thought.”

“I’m sorry,” said Vitaliya. “I should have…”

“No, no. It’s not my garden.” The woman smiled. Something about her face made it difficult for Vitaliya to gauge how old she was. “I don’t think I’ve met you yet. Did you arrive with the princess?”

“Yes, I’m Vitaliya. Of Vesolda.” She regretted that second part the moment the words left her, for she did not want the woman to become tense or overly formal. But the woman did not seem surprised. Perhaps she had already been told who Vitaliya was.

“I am Elyne. Of nowhere. Everywhere. Anywhere.” Elyne’s smile grew wider as though she was telling a joke. “I’m glad Ioanna didn’t have to make the journey alone.”

“I was searching for the priest who came in with us. I haven’t seen him since yesterday, and we’re afraid he’ll sneak off without saying goodbye.”

“The one with all the animals? I saw him earlier. You might be right about him leaving, though. I don’t think he’s comfortable here. Too tidy.”

“I was afraid of that,” sighed Vitaliya. “Well, Ioanna and I wanted to give him some sort of reward. If not for him, I don’t think we’d have made it here.”

“Priests aren’t easily rewarded. The good ones, I mean. And Cyne’s tend to lean more heavily toward good than some others I might name.”

That was a curious observation, but Vitaliya could not quite disagree with it. “Are you with the Order of the Sun?”

“Not precisely. I’m here with one of the paladins, but I’m not a member of the Order.”

“Well, don’t feel bad. They won’t let me in the meeting either.”

Elyne laughed. “I’m sure it would put me to sleep. Still, I was hoping to catch a glimpse of the princess. I haven’t seen her since she was small.”

“Well, she’s about my age now,” said Vitaliya. “When did you meet her?”

“It was twelve, thirteen years ago, I think? And not for very long. An hour, at most. Her aunt was trying to sacrifice her to a chaos god.”

“What!” Vitaliya felt her jaw drop. “She—she what?”

“Oh, she didn’t tell you?” Elyne didn’t sound concerned, though. “Like I said, it was a long time ago. Maybe she’s forgotten.”

“I don’t think that’s the sort of thing you forget!”

“It wasn’t as dramatic as you’re imagining. We managed to get her to safety before anything could happen. The cultists didn’t even have a chance to lay a hand on her.”

“But why did they want her?”

“Well, she’s a very important young woman. She’s going to shape the future of this nation. Perhaps even the continent. Not everyone wants the same things she does.”

“But she was only…what, five years old? How could anyone—”

“Oh, people will do just about anything when their lives are at stake. And so will gods,” said Elyne. “Count yourself lucky that you’ve never felt such desperation.”

Vitaliya sat down on one of the stone benches, her plans to find Otho temporarily forgotten. “I can’t imagine,” she murmured. “How terrible. And how terrible for Ioanna.”

“She’s not quite safe yet,” Elyne advised. “I’ll do my best to keep an eye out, but I’m not sure where to expect an attack from next. Be careful, won’t you? Don’t trust anyone too easily.”

“She, she said something similar this morning. But I don’t think Netheia would attack here, do you? Ioanna seemed to think Oredia was a sort of neutral ground.”

“Netheia?” repeated Elyne. She sounded confused. “Oh! The sister. I forgot about her.”

“She’s the one we’re fighting,” said Vitaliya, her brow knotting in concern. “This whole thing is her fault—”

The corner of Elyne’s mouth twitched as though she was fighting back a laugh. Suddenly, inexplicably, Vitaliya thought of Acydon, lounging on his fence. She really doesn’t know! he had marveled, speaking to Ioanna as though Vitaliya wasn’t even there. Why in the world does she think you’re out here to begin with?

“What’s going on?” Vitaliya asked slowly.

In that moment, Elyne seemed so indescribably old. Older than her father, older than Grandmother Irianthe, older than the oldest person Vitaliya had ever seen. Her face had not changed, nor had her body. It was something about her eyes.

“The Ten are quarreling,” Elyne said. “What you’re witnessing between Ioanna and her sister is merely a reflection of what’s happening in Asterium. It’s been centuries in the making. Don’t underestimate the importance, or the scope, of what is happening in Xytae.”

Vitaliya did not know what to say to this. Of course, she had never doubted the existence of the gods—how could anyone when they granted blessings so freely? But to hear someone say they were taking an active role in events was a little more difficult to believe. Vitaliya had been taught the gods preferred to stand back and observe and allow Men to live their own lives. And in her experience, people who claimed to know the will of the gods beyond what they’d already mandated to their followers tended to have some sort of ulterior motive.

But Elyne did not give her the impression of a fanatic, nor of someone angling for a political advantage. She was calm and certain like a seer, and Vitaliya got the impression she didn’t care very much if Vitaliya believed her words.

“I—I should go,” said Vitaliya. “I’ve got to catch Otho before he leaves.”

Elyne nodded, and her eyes went distant once more as though she was listening to something that Vitaliya could not hear.

 

As expected, she found Otho in the stables. The stables were not part of the villa; rather, they’d been built outside the high walls just a short walk away so the smell of the horses would not pollute the residential areas.

“I hope you weren’t going to sneak away,” said Vitaliya as she entered the stable. Otho turned, and she saw he’d already hitched Daisy to the wagon. “Oooh, you were! How rude of you.”

Otho gave her a guilty smile and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Princess Vitaliya—”

“Oh, no. Now I’m a princess.” Vitaliya struck herself in the forehead, then shifted her hand to see if this had made him laugh. “Are you going to refuse us when we try to give you a reward?”

“There is no need for—”

“I knew it!” Vitaliya considered dropping to the ground dramatically but changed her mind after taking a closer look at the stable floor. “Let me hug the chickens goodbye. I’m not going to hug you, though. I’m very cross with you.”

“You don’t need me here,” said Otho. “I’d only be in the way, and I’m sure the empress mother has no use for me. But if it helps at all, I do believe Cyne guided me to you. And I believe nothing I accomplish in the future will be of greater importance than what I’ve done here.”

“Oh, don’t say that!” Vitaliya cried. “You’re going to help so many more people—and animals, of course—”

“Certainly, I hope that is the case,” agreed Otho. “And I am glad to do it. But I don’t think it is an exaggeration to say what is being planned here concerns all of Xytae, and perhaps even lands beyond.”

“You won’t stay, then?” asked Vitaliya. “Not even for a few more days?”

“My people will worry if I am missing for too long. And I am not meant to remain in such luxury. It is beautiful here, but it’s not where I’m meant to be. I prefer the roads and the open fields, and knowing I’m doing Cyne’s work.”

“At least stay until Ioanna comes out of her meeting,” wheedled Vitaliya. “She’ll be disappointed if she doesn’t get to say goodbye properly.”

“Very well, but I sincerely hope she does not try to offer me a reward. I already have all I require, and the temple will provide me with anything I lack. Whatever she might be thinking to give me would be put to better use helping our people.”

“Fine! I’ll tell her so,” said Vitaliya. She climbed into the back of the wagon, where the chickens were already settled and crossed her legs. “But if you ever find yourself in Vesolda, come visit me. Or maybe once Ioanna is empress—I’ll make sure they invite you to the coronation. I won’t let them forget.”

“If it happens in the summer, I may be too busy to attend,” said Otho, but he was smiling, teasing. “Some of us must work for our living.”

“How terrible. What have you done to deserve such a fate?” Vitaliya took one of the chickens in her arms and held it carefully in the way Otho had taught her with one arm beneath to support the body. She’d never considered whether a chicken might make a good pet, but Otho’s were calm and surprisingly affectionate. “Goodbye, egg friend.”

“If you’re serious about keeping chickens of your own, make sure you get more than one,” said Otho. “They’re social animals, just like Men. And they’re perfectly capable of becoming lonely.”

“I’ll remember,” Vitaliya promised. She’d be the only girl at Bergavenna with pet chickens! Or at least she would be for a week or two until people started copying her. But that was still a long way off. She was still not ready to think of returning home.

 

The door to Irianthe Isinthi’s study was under guard when Vitaliya approached it. Two men, both dressed in leather armor, had been posted on either side of it. But they did not draw their swords or even frown at her as she came nearer, so she felt confident enough to ask, “Are they still in there?”

“Yes, Princess,” said one. “The empress mother has ordered they not be disturbed.”

Could Irianthe still be called the empress mother now that Ionnes was dead? Would she become the empress grandmother when Ioanna took the throne? Vitaliya considered this as she wandered back off down the hall. Surely Enessa would be empress mother then? She had the impression Irianthe wouldn’t care very much if Enessa took that title from her.

With nothing else to do, Vitaliya went back to her room, which she could not stop thinking of as Netheia’s. Maybe she would take some of the weapons off the wall and swing them around just to see what it felt like and hopefully not cut any of her fingers off. She’d been encouraged to throw a javelin when she’d been among Netheia’s friends, but they’d all laughed quite rudely at her first attempt, and so she’d feigned disinterest in the sport ever since.

She examined a sword hanging from the wall. It was a lot larger than the swords the guards outside Irianthe’s study carried, and she doubted she’d be able to get it down—and if she did, she certainly wouldn’t be able to get it back up afterward.

The room was warm and comfortable, and the bed was still made from yesterday. Vitaliya wondered if the servants had taken note of this and, if they had, what their opinion was. She slid her shoes off and lay down on the soft mattress. Her last, irrational thought before she fell asleep was of home of her empty room at Bergavenna and if anyone was missing her.