“What is this?” Cateline asked after slamming the stack of envelopes on the headmistress’s desk, concealing the key in her palm. Behind her scurried Jaspar, snapping his fingers after cursing beneath his breath. The headmistress did not look up from the book she held in her hands, back against the chair she sat in casually.

“Letters, Your Highness. What else did you think they were?”

“My deepest apologies, Leolina. She ran past me before I could stop her—” Jaspar began, his jaw snapping shut as Leolina twisted her wrist with a closed fist. When Cateline turned to look at him, he was moving his hands in exaggerated ways before crossing his arms over his chest. He was mute, only able to show his frustration by tapping his feet against the floor.

“Thank you, Jaspar. That is all we need for now.”

Turning back to Leolina, Cateline flaired her nostrils. “So? What are they?”

The headmistress placed the book down and folded her hands together, her eyes flickering to the chair as a signal to sit. Cateline cocked her head, shaking it with a stern glare. “That seal. That is my family seal. You told me you had connections to my family a few nights ago, what did you mean by that?”

“There are so many things you do not know, child. You are naive to the world, and to your own flesh and blood. What were you doing in the western wing?”

“No,” Cateline said and dropped her arms to her side, “you do not get to ask me questions. I get to ask you questions. I need answers. Now. I have acted ignorant to everything around me my entire time here, but that act has come to a close.”

“No intermission?” Leolina smirked.

“Unfortunately not, so start talking.”

“Fine, fine. Let me start by asking you something, Cateline. You were not moronic when you arrived here—not surprised to the creatures that your family never taught you about. Sure, you were exposed to a culture shock, but you were not in a state of disbelief. Why is that?”

“I do not know what you are asking…” Cateline fibbed. Of course she knew why—she had one mentor to thank for that.

“I think you do know. I suspect you had a mentor.”

Gulping, Cateline clenched her fists together. “What does that have to do with the answers I’m seeking?”

The headmistress stood to her feet, gesturing toward Cateline with a gentle smile. “It has everything to do with you, Cateline. The almighty Princess of Axulran, lost in Traburg and doing all she could to conceal her heritage. What gave you that instinct, Princess Cateline? Or, rather, who?”

Cateline sucked in a breath, lowering her stare to the letters once more. “How did you know about my mentor, Leolina? Who exactly are you?”

“I am the Headmistress, do not fear. I have put my blood, sweat and tears into this academy and that is what my legacy will be known as. That said, I have witnessed parts of the world that you would envy. On the other hand, Cateline, I have been part of the darkest moments, too. Your mentor, Alleyn, was a dear friend, to you, to me, to Emmeline.”

This was when Cateline’s head snapped back up. “He was nothing to my mother but a servant, she made that known. She loathed him.”

Leolina’s lips curled into a sinister smirk, bringing her shoulders upward in a lackluster shrug. “But what is the line between loath and love? Alleyn was special to many, Cateline. Where did he go, anyway?”

“Stop mocking me!” she spat. Leolina was toying with her, mentioning her childhood like she witnessed it herself. “How did you know Alleyn? How did you know my mother? How did you know me?”

“Cateline,” the headmistress whispered and leaned forward, “the answers you seek are found with that key. You must discover your own destiny, I cannot pave that path for you. But, I can give you my word. You are meant to be here, to be in Lighthelm. Your magic is great, but something is preventing you from becoming the mage your father feared you to be. Let me ask you something, though. I want you to sit on this one.”

Cateline narrowed her stare and clenched the key that she had been hiding in her hands the entire time. She waited for her to continue.

“How did you get your powers? Clearly, your father is rife with envy that he is not the most powerful creature in existence. Where did you get your magic? Find that answer, and then I think Lunarseve’s effects would be far more helpful than anything I could provide for you. Return to me when you have found yourself. Not sooner and not later."

Aiora stood outside Gerard’s house with a hand behind her back, trembling fingers wrapped around a dagger. She had been contemplating whether she should hold this traitor hostage, or if she should seek her answers in a more cordial way. She was on the fence since he, at one point in time, danced with the enemy.

The Bennett family sought not just the extermination of the elven race, but also any creature with magical blood coursing through its veins. If the King and Queen of Axulran could have it their way, the bunnies that scurried around the forests of Traburg should be slaughtered for drinking the same water as elves and mages.

And, to think that Gerard had formed an alliance with such a sinister family. Aiora was no fool to sins and wrongdoings—her own family had a bloody hand in most of the atrocities that happened across the entire kingdom, not just Javunger, but King Airen and his wife were to blame for massacres.

There was no forgiving that.

Clutching onto the dagger with a firm grasp, she knocked on the wooden door with her free hand. There was a slight shuffling on the other side, his guttural coughs heard even from out here. When he answered, his eyes grew wide and a smile stretched over his face.

“Aiora, it’s been quite a few days. Where have you been?”

After clearing her throat, she nodded and looked around to make sure nobody was approaching them. “I had my reasons, Gerard.”

“Is everything alright? Would you like to sit down for some tea and talk?”

This hurt her heart. Gerard had become such a father figure to her by taking her in in the wake of her darkest moments. When she was in hiding after causing the great fires of Javunger, he made her a cot and hid her away when the guards came knocking. This was her home until she was old enough to go to Lighthelm, where the headmistress used her magic and connections to clear her name.

While she never truly understood how Leolina did it, Gerard warned Aiora that the headmistress was not a woman to toy with. Perhaps he was not, either.

Looking up at him once more, she couldn’t help but smile at his aged, wrinkly skin and worrisome stare. Gerard looked a bit pale, his beard overgrown and unkempt. Her grip on the dagger tightened before she let out a shaky breath. “Tea sounds great, Gerard. I need to talk to you about something.”

Once he turned his back, she sheathed her dagger and followed him inside. In the corner of the room, he stood over a table and set the teapot over a metal holder. Beneath it, he lit a candle with his elemental magic and let the water boil. “You look down, Aiora. What has happened? Are you not excited about Lunarseve? You used to get in so much trouble during these times.”

“Yes, the type of trouble that burned an entire village to the ground.”

He choked on his own words as he stumbled for a response, eventually staring her down with furrowed brows. “I thought you had gotten over those memories. You and I both know that was not your fault.”

“Perhaps I started to realize running from blame is a terrible way to live life, Gerard. Surely you can relate to that.”

“I have never claimed to be an innocent man. Sit, Aiora, and tell me what you are going on about.”

She watched as he gestured to the seat, folding her arms over her chest to show she was comfortable where she was. “Innocence is one thing, and guilt is another. You told me about your growing years, Gerard. How you grew up in the unexplored lands outside Axulran in a nomadic elven tribe. Was that even the truth?”

“Of course it was.”

“Then why do you have letters from the royal family?”

“Traburg’s royal family? I have never met the likes of them!”

Aiora stifled a laugh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, not the Traburg royal family. Axulran, Gerard! You have connections with the family that seeks our exile as a race. Why?”

This was when Gerard grew silent, his hands covering his mouth before shakily stroking his beard. He moved into the other room and began to sift through the boxes. Aiora stayed where she was, shaking her head in disappointment.

“They are still there in that same box you left them in. I thought you were hiding something from me, Gerard. I can chalk it up to nothing other than intuition, the same gut feeling I had when I figured my father was about to burn the entire kingdom down over his heretical views. I remember them clearly, though. E.B… Who is E.B, Gerard?”

Aiora already knew who E.B. was, but she wanted to see if he was worth her dagger or not. One wrong answer, and his legacy would be in the dirt.

The noises from the other room stopped after another moment, his head hung low as he returned to the room with another letter. This one was unopened and had a red seal, the edges aged and brown. He finally responded: “You know who E.B. is, otherwise you would not have greeted me at the door with a dagger.”

Aiora grabbed hold of her holster with her free hand and let out a breathy laugh. “I wasn’t sure if I should trust you.”

“I am not a royal spy, Aiora. In fact, I have not been in Axulran since I was a young man... Well, younger man, years before you left Javunger. I was, however, a royal servant who was appointed after the War of Mimicry.”

“Why would that family want an elf as a royal servant, Gerard?”

He sat down and took the kettle off the flame when the steam whistled. Twisting his fingers into his palm, a small gust of wind extinguished the fire before he turned to Aiora again. “My birth name is not Gerard, and that family is not a friend. At one point, they were—I thought the Queen was on a righteous path to go against her husband-to-be. The affair went on for years, you see, and when the King ordered my execution I dropped all I could and ran. I started a new life here, just outside the largest city in Daggernest.”

“Why did he order your execution?”

Gerard smiled sadly, lowering his stare to the cup as he poured himself a glass. “He never wanted me as a servant, clearly. King Airen is the reason there are no elves in the cities of that kingdom. Emmeline fought for it, since they were well aware I was a dear friend from her earlier years. He agreed to it, until finding our letters. They came raining down in flames one day when I was picking vegetables for supper. Before I knew it, the guards were running after me. I grabbed a handful, some read and some still a mystery to this day. Once I got away, I never looked back.”

Aiora gulped and dropped her hands to her side, her lips pinched into a straight line and eyes narrowed. “Your birth name, then?”

“Not too far off, Aiora. Gerard is my middle name, given to me by my own mother. The King never did his research into me, and simply knew me as Elven Boy. I am Alleyn Gerard Orious, Elven Mage Knight of the second battalion and former servant to Queen and King Bennett, of Axulran.”

“Well, Alleyn,” she breathed, “did you know we have a royal family member in Lighthelm right now?”

He dropped the cup from his hands and stood to his feet as the scalding liquid spilled onto his pants. “Pardon? Who?”

A small smile crept onto her face, a tsking sound escaping her lips as she took a few steps forward. “Not so fast, traitor. I want some more answers. I need to know more about this King. Afterall, you’re going to be the one to bring me to him at the end of Lunarseve.”