A month, like any period of time, could feel long or short. This month, the month Mai had just endured, had been an eternity. And what was the worst part? It was not over. She and Broken were still stuck at the godforsaken Tevin Farm.

Or, not exactly on the farm. At the moment, Mai was in Hetan, for provisions. Broken was not with her, though he was elsewhere in the town. As Mai scuttled along the back alley she had found in the town, that, when traveled, cut travel distance, she reminisced on the last month.

Mai was a diligent worker, now. Tevin, Doner, Pelt, they all said so on a regular basis. Mai was clueless as to how she had done it, but in a sense, she had come into her own.

But it was torture.

When she and Broken were alone, he still made her call him master. And now, she did with little hesitation. It was humiliating, but Mai couldn’t bear not talking to anyone who knew who she really was.

Mai realized she was almost out of the alley, and sighed in relief. The heavy packages in her arms would not be there much longer. She would meet up with Broken soon, and then they would go back to the farm.

Suddenly, however, those thoughts were adjusted, in a way that she had not before imagined possible. Three youths stepped out from behind three different piles of refuse, in such a way that made it seem they had been lying in wait for her.

The strange thing was, Mai knew them. Not well enough to know their names of course, but she knew each of them well enough to recognize on sight. One of them had even come up to her once before, and spoken to her, not even unpleasantly.

But Mai had no doubt in her mind as to what he was doing here now. Nor any of the others. A month of the life she had led had taken off many blinders.

She dropped the packages. Her priorities had suddenly been rearranged.

“Well, well,” said the youth she had spoken with before. He seemed to be the leader of the group. “It seems a certain young lady has walked into our--what shall I call it?--trap.”

Mai would have shouted something to the effect of, ‘get away from me, you filthy commoners,’ but now, times had changed. That was not longer her first impulse. She simply screamed, “Help!”

The leader didn’t seem all that perturbed. “No one cares,” he said. “And why would they?” he asked. “You’re nobody.”

That sentence struck a chord in Mai. She might not be sure who she was anymore, but she was sure she wasn’t no one. She glared at him. “If you’re going to do something, do it,” she said.

And then he and his two buddies advanced.

In response, Mai turned, and started to run. A month ago, she never would have done that, no matter what the circumstances. The Codes of Sara were clear. However, they no longer seemed pertinent to her life.

As she rushed down the alley, the youths gained on her. She didn’t need to look back to know as much. They were faster than her. But she had known, all the same, that to not try would have been even more pointless.

The net result, however, was that she was much deeper into the alley, when the first of them caught up to her.

The first—it wasn’t the group’s leader, but Mai didn’t know which one of the other two—tackled her from behind. She clawed him in the face, and he howled, and pulled back.

However, by now the other two had reached her. Their leader grabbed her, and with both hands around her neck, slammed her into the wall, as the other cheered him on, and the third got back up to his feet.

The leader of the group raised Mai into the air, and slammed her into the wall. Her legs kicked, and improvising on that, she kicked all the harder, knocking the leader back, releasing his grip on her, and, by definition, sending her to the ground.

But that didn’t help her. Mai knew she was going to die, knew it in every fiber of her being, and embraced the pain and rage that knowledge caused, and oddly, the bit of relief.

But then, from the ground, she heard a very particular voice.

“Improvised Dolshen kick,” said Broken, emerging from the shadows. He no longer wore his armor any more, just farmer’s clothing, but his presence was an intimidating sight.

To Mai, at least.

The leader of the youths got up, brushed himself off, and approached Broken head-on, as his two friends swiveled around to approach each of Broken’s sides.

Mai slowly picked herself up off the ground, and actually let out a small laugh. They have no idea what they’re getting themselves into, do they?

“I think you should be going, tough guy,” said the leader of the group.

“No, I do not,” said Broken. “But I think the three of you should.” His steady, deep tone was enough to make the three pause.

But not for all that long.

There was a blur of motion, and then one of the three went down, clutching his lower extremities in pain. Another of the three fell backwards as well, seemingly knocked out with a blow to the head.

And then the only one left was the leader, who slowly backed away.

Broken rushed forward, grabbed him by the neck, lifted him up, and thrust him against the wall. He was getting what he had done to Mai, only where he had needed both hands to do it, Broken only needed one.

The youth wheezed under Broken’s tight grip, as Broken spoke a last few words, painfully slowly. “Don’t…do…that…again.”

Broken then dropped the former leader, and he ran off down the alley, seemingly without care for his two partners, who were still lying incapacitated on the ground, one displaying signs of movement, while the other did not.

“Are you alright?” Broken asked Mai.

Mai was suddenly angry. No, not angry. Furious. “I don’t know what you expect me to say,” she said. “But I want to tell you something. Back there, before you came, I thought I was going to die. And do you know what I felt?”

Broken said nothing.

“I felt relieved,” said Mai. “I felt relieved. A long time ago, you rescued me from my death. A few days later, you did it a second time. And now you did it a third. But for what, I ask you?”

Again, Broken did not speak.

“Maybe it’s wrong of me to say this,” said Mai. “Maybe it’s incredibly selfish of me. But I can’t go on like this. I work all day, because of you, and then at night, you make me call you master.

“I know commoners do the sort of work I do every day,” said Mai, “and I have newfound respect for them. But how could I be put through everything I was put through, for this?

“You do one thing, and then you do another as if you are trying to push two different sets of agendas,” said Mai. “You truly are Broken.” She meant that in both senses of the word.

“I want you to know something,” said Broken. “I am sorry. I am sorry for what I put you through. I know you will not accept what I said without something more, so I say this--

“Tomorrow morning, with provisions, we will leave Tevin Farm,” Broken said. “We can go anywhere in the Empire you wish, anywhere you think you will be safe, or anywhere you just want to visit. We can travel for as long or as short a time as you desire. You need not call me master ever again.”

Elation filled Mai. And suddenly, as if a fog was lifted, Mai knew where they could go. Where they could be safe. “Asan Paril,” she whispered. “The city, in the Vedil lands, where the sun rises over the water.” She spoke louder and louder, with increasing confidence. “The lord there is just and fair, and I know him. He will not turn us away.”

“Then let us hurry back to Tevin Farm,” said Broken. “We must tell them of our sudden departure.”

And so they walked. Behind them, one of the youths on the ground moaned in his agony.

Mai was able to find all of what she had dropped in the alley, so they could go back to Tevin Farm with haste. Once they returned, they met with Tevin, and his two older sons, in the dining room.

After Broken explained what was going to happen, the elder Tevin nodded. “I expected this,” he said. “Clearly, I did, ever since that dreary night you came here, when you said this would be a temporary arrangement. I do not begrudge you for it. Rassin, you were up front with me the entire time.”

“The name I go by more often really isn’t Rassin,” said Broken. “And neither is her name, the name you would consider real, Jess.”

Doner leaned forward on his chair. “You mean you’ve been lying to us the entire time?” he asked.

“Of course not,” said Broken. “As I said a month ago, others have called me Rassin, and others have called her Jess.”

“Then who are you?” asked Pelt. “And what else have you been lying to us about?”

“I never lie,” said Broken. “I meanly said one thing, that you supposed meant another. And more than that, everything I have ever told you about my path and hers, is true.”

“I think there is a more important question, son,” said the elder Tevin. “Why do you tell us this now, the day before you leave?”

“Because I wish to protect this family,” said Broken. “This family that has been so kind to us. I do not wish any of you to suffer hardship because we interfered in our lives.

“And now, I will tell you who we are,” said Broken. “She is Princess Maiako as Arathou del Tachen, and I am her protector. My name is Broken.”

As Mai had expected, her name made far more of an impact on the family than Broken’s did.

“My God,” said Doner.

“I can’t believe it,” said Pelt.

Mai had to congratulate Broken on the way he had set up what he was about to tell the Tevin family, though she had as little idea as they why he wanted to reveal such an important secret. Broken had set up what he was about to say so well, not a one of the three doubted the truth of his statement.

“All this time, I was ordering around a princess,” remarked the elder Tevin. “The real heir to the throne, not Ehajdon. Are you going to reveal that you are still alive, Princess?” he asked her.

Mai said nothing for a moment. It was an odd feeling to not have Broken answer for her, and step in with exactly the right remark. For she had the very clear sense right now that he was not going to say anything.

“No,” Mai said.

“But why, Princess?” asked Pelt. He seemed to be fighting the urge to kneel. “I think I speak for my brother and my father when I say that, despite whatever it was that happened in the capital, we are your men.”

Doner nodded, and the elder Tevin voiced his affirmation.

“If you gathered an army, we would fight for you,” he said. “As would a great many others around here. The Arathou Dynasty, which lasted for eleven hundred years of peace, or near enough, shouldn’t have to end now. Ehajdon, though he might be a fairly decent ruler himself, is still just a pretender.”

Mai was amazed by the voicing of support. “But I’m a bastard,” she said. “My…my blood’s impure.”

“You’re still the daughter of Emperor Mentis, ain’t you?” said Doner.

“And more than that,” said the elder Tevin. “You being a bastard just means you have commoner blood in your veins. If you made it to the throne, you’d be half commoner, and half noble. And that’s a true ruler that I would fight for, one representative of the people.”

“But I’m a…” Mai trailed off.

“You mean that you’re a girl?” asked the elder Tevin. “I don’t know much about history and such, but I know there’s been Empresses on the throne. If the God-Kings could allow it once, they could allow it again.”

“My God,” said Mai. “You’re really serious.” She looked at Broken helplessly, not knowing what to say, or what to say, or what to think.

And so, finally, he cut in. “My mistress came here to regroup,” he said. “And now she must leave to gather allies.”

That was all the support Mai needed. She spoke again, annoyed that she had needed Broken’s help. “I am honored that you think so highly of me,” she said. “But for now, things must be as they will be.”

“I can’t believe I ordered you around like I did,” said Pelt.

But now Broken spoke again, with more of a voice of command. “You three were told her identity for one reason,” he said. “Because I believe that those who wish to do the Princess harm will come here, and you need to be prepared.”

The elder Tevin gazed over at his straight sword, which hung over the fireplace mantle. “We will accept that risk,” he said. “It is the least we can do, to repay the Princess for the way she was treated.”

“I do not want you to fight them,” said Broken. “Getting killed on the Princess’ behalf is something I cannot allow kind folk such as yourselves to do. If enemies come, I want you to point them in our direction. We will be going north, to Asan Paril.”

Mai was shocked. She wanted to ask Broken what in the name of the God-Kings he was thinking, to ask the Tevins to help their enemies. But she kept quiet. If Broken had a good reason for saying what he was, she did not want to hinder him. She had learned that much with him.

“Why would you say this?” asked the elder Tevin. “What we never knew, we could not ever tell.”

“I said what I did, because I do not want you to die,” said Broken. “Say what I told you, and say that you overheard I and the Princess speaking of it. Otherwise, those who come will kill you.”

“You are truly noble to offer as much,” said Tevin. “But I cannot take any way out at your expense.”

“We can protect ourselves,” said Broken. “We can run. You have a livelihood, and cannot.”

“No,” said Doner.

The elder Tevin got up, and walked over to where Broken sat, and spoke as Broken reflexively got up to meet him. “I know not what nobles and your like think of my kind, sir, think of commoners. But when my wife died giving birth to Gabin, I made an oath that I would raise my children right, and so I have. Against what you might believe, we have honor.”

Broken looked at him for a moment, with such a look on his face that it seemed to Mai he was about to start shouting. It almost seemed that Broken wore a look of loathing for the man before him.

But then the fury behind his eyes was gone, and Broken sat back down. “You have made a choice then,” he said.

“Yes, we have,” said Pelt, as the elder Tevin slowly sat back down.

The rest of the day consisted of nothing so awkward. Aside from the fact that apologies were given for how they had been treated, over and over again, by all of the Tevins, even Gabin, after he had been told, things generally progressed smoothly. They were all in high spirits.

After Aruith had been made ready for the journey, and a second horse had been given to them by the Tevins, named Swift, (For Mai had learned the basics of riding over the past month) the family and the two guests sat down for dinner.

Dinner was filled with grand suggestions and musings. For all of their being solemn earlier in the day, the family was quite relaxed now. They all joked about rather strange ways to tell the world that Mai was still alive, and Gabin seemed the happiest of them all.

Gabin seemed amazed that someone as important as Mai would set foot inside her house. He asked question after question about what it had been like to grow up in a palace. Mai, despite herself, endeavored to answer each and every one. It was odd, very odd, but she still felt bad about not telling Gabin a story all those weeks ago.

During the festivities, Broken seemed less charismatic than usual. He still dove into the conversation, and entertained everyone with his odd thoughts, but he seemed reserved this day, as if he was thinking deeply about something or another. Once Mai realized how much attentions she was paying to him, she made it her business to ignore Broken. After what he had done, she did not feel the need to ask him what was on his mind.

And then, rather suddenly, the day was over. While in the weeks before, Mai had prepared herself for sleep with the knowledge that it would be more of the same in the morning, this night, she readied herself for adventure. Things were different now. Oh, so different.

The Tevin patriarch had given up his bed this one night, for Mai to be able to sleep in it. Broken was in a bed as well, Doner’s bed, despite a bit of strained resistance on his part to the contrary.

For the first time since Broken had saved her from the burning palace, Mai had a restful sleep.