Dinner was served around a large fire. Telbarisk said rain was likely that night, so Al set up the tent and gifted it to Anla and Raulin. “It doesn’t make sense for one person to be dry when it could be two,” he said when they thanked him.

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Raulin said.

Al spent much of the next fifteen minutes tending the fire, watching Raulin quietly but expectantly. Anla nudged her husband at one point and nodded in his direction. Raulin gave a smirk. “Yes? What’s on your mind, Wizard?”

“What’s your merit?”

“Is this your one question?”

“No. I just thought it would be helpful to know, in future situations.”

He cocked an eyebrow, then drummed his fingers on his forearm. “You know most of the aristocracy don’t share theirs even with their spouses, right? It’s something they keep close to their chest. Mmm. All right. It’s called the Bolt. Whenever I’m in mortal danger, my body automatically moves me out of harm’s way, if possible. I get a flash of white across my vision and then I find myself twisting in some strange position. For example, back at the house with all the things we needed to find, when the floor collapsed, I landed inches from a spike that would have punctured my torso.”

“That’s a handy merit for what you became,” Al mused.

“While it saves me from surprise attacks and let’s me know I need to get out of that situation immediately, it also makes me somewhat reliant on it.” He poked the fire the fire with a long stick. “All right. Go ahead and ask your one question, Wizard.”

“How?”

“What? How what?”

“How this, how everything? How did you get from Eri Ranvel on the night of the Coup to Arvarikor?”

He stared at Al with dead eyes before his shoulders slumped. “Damn you and your clever, little mind. I meant one specific question about…” He sighed. “All right. The whole damn thing, then.

“My father’s merit must have been something involving foresight. A few weeks, maybe a month, before the Coup there were some drastic changes in my routine. We, my sisters, my brother, and I, had to learn codes and we weren’t to go with anyone who didn’t know them. Our guards were doubled, including a trirec for each of us children, though I didn’t know that until the Coup. And, something I thought was odd for many years until I realized what had happened: my father made my cousin sleep in the same bed with me. When I asked, he said Petrin’s bed was broken, but when I asked him, he said it wasn’t. I didn’t mind; Petrin and I got along well, since we were only a few months apart, and I thought of it like extended play time.”

“Petrin?” Al asked. “Oh, Petrin, Archduke of Arvonne.”

“Yes,” Raulin said, “though were just called him ‘Petrin’.” He continued. “I awoke on the night of the Coup to a gurgled, rasping breath. I thought Petrin was playing with water, gargling it in bed, and I turned to yell at him to stop when I saw a trirec standing over him with his bloodied knife. He turned to me and said, ‘Sweetrose’, which was the code word. I froze. I wanted to yell out, call my guards, but he knew the password. I thought maybe he had forced someone to tell him and that he was going to kill me next, but then Belisant, my butler, was next to me. ‘Good lad,’ he said. ‘We need to go.’”

“’What’s happening?’ I whispered as the trirec was pulling the sheets up to cover Petrin’s corpse. I’d seen a few men killed at joust, but I’d never seen a dead body so close, especially not of someone I knew.”

“Oh, gods,” Al said, who was perched so far forward over his knees he looked like he was about to fall over. “They found Petrin and confirmed the body was royal, but they thought he was you.”

“Wizard, this is going to go a lot more smoothly if you stop interrupting me,” Raulin said.

“Okay, all right. Continue.”

“Yes, Petrin and I looked an awful lot alike, so I’m sure someone thought he was me.

“Belisant said, ‘There are bad men coming for you. We have to move swiftly.’ He grabbed my wrist to pull me from bed, which startled me into action. Commoners never touched the royal family. It was a great breach of protocol.

“I started to ask questions as he put my clothing and a cloak on. ‘Shut the boy up,’ the trirec said, coming around the bed.

“’My prince, you need to be quiet right now. I promise I will answer all the questions you have once we’ve left the city.’”

“I fought with him over this until he gently put his hand over my mouth. I was, again, shocked into silence. Belisant had a pack full of clothing and, I later discovered, loose jewels, jewelry, and foreign coin. Once I was ready, the trirec, Ikiyel, bade us to follow him. He led us through the palace grounds, making us stop and wait occasionally, until we were out. I remember shaking even though it was warm, my stomach hurting but not from hunger.

“The plan was to spirit me down to the docks and have me board a ship to Kinto. It was a good plan; assassins and revolutionaries would likely check Grand Avenue for any of us children escaping to Elebtor, where my aunt is the queen, or Sayen, where my mother was from and my grandparents lived. They wouldn’t think that I’d be sent to the country of my betrothed, Mayasena.

“Or maybe they did consider it or maybe there was collateral damage. As we made it a few blocks from Dilvestrar, the palace, we saw the sky light up on the sea. The harbor was on fire and all the ships were burning. Ikiyel knew we had to get out of the city, so he took us through alleys and streets, stopping only for a few moments to catch our breaths. I’d never seen such carnage. Groups openly fought other on the street. Men were slumped against walls, holding wounds they had succumbed to. I heard people shouting ‘Down with the Alscaines!’ and ‘Tear down the throne!’, fighting with swords and pikes and clubs against guards. I was confused. I didn’t understand what I had done to make everyone so angry.

“There were a few run-ins. Occasionally Ikiyel had to fight off someone who was in the moment, wanting to fight someone and anyone. I can’t imagine that a sane person would attack someone with a trirec mask. He killed a few people along the way. I remember one man in particular grabbing my shirt and smearing blood on my chin as he looked at me. He was about to yell when Ikiyel ran him through with a found sword, then yanked his hand off me.

“We made it through the gate, finally, after what seemed like hours. It was abandoned as the guards fought against the uprising. My legs were on fire and my feet ached. I began to cry around then, the shock wearing off, and I begged Belisant to tell me what was going on.

“Ikiyel pulled us into someone’s open courtyard. ‘Tell him what he wants to know while I think of what to do’, he said. Belisant knelt down in front of me and he told me about the Coup in terms a ten-year-old would understand. I didn’t, and frankly I still don’t, but he did his best.

“I say Belisant was my butler, but the actual term we used was magricap. He was in charge of my household and was assigned to me at birth. He was the one who woke me up and the one who tucked me in at night. He was the one who told me about the best places to hide when I played ‘hide and seek’ when Mayasena visited. He was the one who would sneak in chocolate-covered frayed almonds from Jemerie. He knew my fears, my strengths, and everything that made me tick. He knew me and he knew that telling me to behave and be quiet wasn’t going to work. Instead, he said, ‘We need to play a game. We need to pretend that you’re not Caudin, Prince of Arvonne. If anyone finds out, we lose the game.’”

“’Who am I going to be?’ I asked. He made up a name, Quin Sesault, and that he was going to pretend to be my uncle. I was his apprentice and we were on our way to buy things. I took to this with an unparalleled focus, coming up with stories and lies, while Belisant and Ikiyel argued over what we were going to do next. There was no back-up plan. I saw dark stains on the stone where Ikiyel was pacing. I didn’t connect it at the time, but he had been injured fighting some of those men in the city.

“The choices were to travel by foot to Kinto, travel to another city and hope they had a ship to Kinto, travel to Elebtor, or travel to Walpi. They finally agreed to the last; my father and King Anistro had very good relations on account that Arvonne was one of the few kingdoms that actually sent men to fight against the Merakians when they invaded. I’d overheard snippets of boring party conversation about how foolish it was that my father did that, since border issues were border countries’ problems, but it wasn’t foolish then. He’d likely accept me to his court with open arms.

“We traveled for weeks on horseback. Ikiyel started to look worse every day. On the border of Walpi, he fell from his horse, but got back up once he regained consciousness. We made it a day or two from Akau Vria when we had to stop. The village doctor looked at Ikiyel and said he had gangrene and that he needed to amputate his leg. He refused. He died a few days later and the townsfolk of Akausa Minest were nice enough to bury him in their cemetery.

“I remember Belisant being very upset during this time. He was always a genial man, putting up with my rambunctious nature with a cool understanding, only stepping in when it was really necessary. During that time, he was cross, sending me away to play with the village children quite often. He didn’t have time for my lessons, not that it had ever been his responsibility to teach me, nor could he spare moments for my childish excitement at interesting things I did or found. He was going through a lot, grieving so that he could be there for me when I needed it.

“Word had spread quickly. The Coup, the Revolution as the winners called it, had been successful. A new government had been established. All members of the royal family were dead. Word came from the other direction, too. King Anistro had been killed leading troops against a border incursion. Not only was Belisant grieving for the loss of his former life and the people who had employed him well for decades, he also had to make a tough decision on my behalf. He wasn’t a young man; the journey had already taken its toll on him, so Elebtor and Kinto were out of the question. He could risk bringing me to the court at Akau Vria in hopes that the new king would be as sympathetic to me as the old king would be, or he could take me to the place Ikiyel had told me I should go, to Arvarikor.

“He didn’t make the decision quickly. We stayed in Akausa Minest for months. He gave me a good amount of time to adjust to my new setting before telling me about my family. I didn’t take it well. I blamed him, I blamed myself, I blamed everyone. I spent a lot of time down a lane with a stone wall at the end, crying and kicking things. It was then I met a widow, a middle-aged woman who had me call her Emaudla, which is Walpin for ‘mother’. She invited me into her kitchen, gave me sweets and tea and freshly baked pastries. We talked quite a bit, she about her husband and me about my family, though I never told her who I really was. She held me more than a dozen times when I cried. I hugged her when she broke down. She helped, a lot. I’ve occasionally stopped back to see her from time to time and accidentally left large pouches of money in her house. Clumsy of me.

“A few months later, Belisant said we were leaving. I don’t know what his thoughts were about his choice, but I can gather that he was worried about the new king, the old king’s younger brother. Maybe he thought he’d use me as a bargaining chip with the Kalronists. Maybe he thought he’d help me overthrow the Kalronists, but be a puppet king for Walpi. I don’t know. All I knew is we had a long journey to take over mountains in the middle of winter. It took a long time, but he was set on taking it then and there. He’d caught a cough and I think he was deathly worried that he’d die before I could find a secure place to live.

“It was the tail end of February, maybe March, by the time we arrived in Ki-ist Bi-rien, the village surrounding Arvarikor. Ikiyel’s directions were imprecise and we got lost a few times until he realized that I had picked up Walpin rather quickly and occasionally one or two villagers would speak the same tongue. We were ushered by the villagers to the large compound set against the mountains and we waited in the front room for some time.

“Finally, they brought us in and someone translated for Belisant. He presented Ikiyel’s mask with our tale, the truth. Then, he launched into a plea for them to take me as a student.. He must have had several discussions with Ikiyel on how to sell me, because he talked me up like an emaciated cow at auction, most of his points being embellishments or outright lies. I wasn’t obedient. I wasn’t hard-working. I wasn’t clever. Still, the mask and all the jewels he gave made for a tempting deal. They could have killed us both and kept it all, of course, but I think the idea of having a student they could solve some persistent issues with, namely spying in foreign lands, won them out. They accepted.

“I think Belisant knew the whole time he was deciding that he was giving up his life for mine. He was afraid, but not shocked when they made us go outside. They shoved him to his knees and told him to say goodbye. I wasn’t allowed to hug him. One of the Merakians held my shoulder so I couldn’t run to him. He looked up at me and said, ‘Never forget who you are. Be good. Go home when you’re safe.’ One of the masked men pulled out a knife and slit his throat.

“I was too numb to move for a minute, then finally I ran to him. I screamed, ‘How could you do this? He did nothing to you!’. The one that had been holding my shoulder dragged me up, then slapped me so hard I saw stars. I’d never been hit before that point.

“The translator stepped forward and loomed over me. ‘Your first lesson: we own your life. We have decided to train you, for now, but if you show us you are an unworthy student, you will spill your own life’s blood on the ground where your butler did. Will you give your life to us?’ I didn’t answer because I was confused by his translation, thinking he meant they were going to kill me. He kicked me with his boot. ‘I suggest you say ‘yes’ before we slit your throat’.

“’Yes,’ I croaked. They dragged me into the compound, bathed me, shaved my head, and put me into classes that day. I was beaten quite often for not understanding the language and for obstinacy, weeks and weeks of caning. When I did begin to try, I still failed because I still refused to wipe out my childhood and my family from my memories. I didn’t want to forget. I never did, but I learned over time to bury it deep, deep within me.

“Which is what we must do. You have your answers, Wizard. Now you have to bury it. We cannot speak of this again. No references, no veiled jokes, nothing. I am Raulin Kemor, sometimes Marin Liasorn, sometimes Chayen Whithwer, but never, ever Caudin Alscaine.”

Al blinked a few times before nodding. “I understand. It’s the best tale I’ve ever heard that I can tell no one.” He rummaged in his pack before bringing out his alley novels, tossing them on the fire.

“Wizard, what are you doing?” Raulin asked, looking at him with alarm.

“I don’t think I can ever read those again. It’s…I get why you hate them now.”

“But, they meant something to you.”

He shook his head, watching the pages curl and burn. “It feels hollow.”

“You don’t have to do that for me.”

“I’m not, actually. This is for me.”

Rain began to hiss on the fire. Telbarisk rose, put his large hand on Raulin’s shoulders, then moved under a tree to stay dry. Al joined him a few moments later. After a few swigs of water, Raulin crawled into the tent with Anla.

She moved over and leaned on his chest, then looked at him. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

“Hmm? About what?”

“What you had to go through.”

He shrugged. “It’s not like I’ve had much to be happy about since that time. This last year…I feel like I’ve been fighting it because it doesn’t make sense to me. Misery I can understand. Friends and love I can’t.”

She brushed the side of his face with her fingers. He grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers. “You deserve to be happy. No man deserves misery.”

“The same to you as well.”

“I know,” she said, resting her face on his chest. “It’s just going to take some time to get used to being married, finding my place in that description.”

“Don’t do that. I love that you’re you, so freely and openly. Be you and no one else.”