Llew had to admit it was a beautiful dress. Blue again. Llew had rather liked the pinkish-purple color of one of the others, but Anya and Emylia had both agreed that the cut wasn’t right. Whatever that meant. At least it didn’t have flowers. Llew had never considered herself a flowers girl.

A mirror on the wardrobe door displayed her in her full glory once Emylia and Anya had helped tie it all together – it had a lot of ties, as well as loops and hooks. Lord Tovias had provided six stunning dresses for the women to choose from, along with a variety of hair clips, ribbons, and shoes. Llew’s feet were too big for any of the latter, but her dress hid her riding boots if she stood still. And her hair was too short to take advantage of the clips on offer, but Emylia managed to arrange it in such a way as to give Llew a surprise when she looked in the mirror. She looked . . . feminine. It was a sight as foreign as it was welcome. She smiled and a pretty girl smiled back.

When the women presented themselves in the restaurant downstairs, the boys had the same awestruck looks on their faces as they had during that brief evening in Osurnu, and Llew had to work to hide her own admiration for them. They all looked handsome. Alvaro had swapped his wide-brimmed hat for a top hat to match his gray suit, gold waistcoat and stunningly white shirt. He was immaculately shaved, making him look younger than his eighteen years, while the suit gave him a maturity beyond that, despite the self-conscious smile he flicked Llew’s way when she gazed at him. Cassidy wore a golden suit that set off his blond hair. He, too wore a matching top hat, and had accessorized with a cane. To complete the look he put on an aristocratic air which, while Llew knew it was meant to be funny, somehow suited him. Aris wasn’t in clothing dissimilar to his usual get up, but everything was perfectly clean and perfectly pressed.

Jonas had opted not to wear a hat. His long hair hung down, one side hooked behind an ear. He wore his own vest, as always fully loaded with knives, but over it he wore a pitch black short jacket, and trousers to match. Over the trousers sat his knife belt with his Syakaran knife even more visible against the crisply clean background. Underneath it all was a tidy white shirt. Llew was almost disappointed by his lack of bravery with colors, but he could still force the wind out of her with but the slightest upturn of his lips.

This time they ate in the hotel’s restaurant. The other diners still looked at them, but no longer with the wary, distasteful looks of the previous evening; rather, with the whispered question of just who are these fine people?

Aris hadn’t told them that Lord Tovias had also sent a new carriage and horses for them to ride to his estate. These were accompanied by an escort of ceremonially dressed soldiers. They appeared very fancy in their shiny get-up of royal blue jackets and straight black trousers. Many of them had badges on their jackets and Llew wondered what kind of battle action they had seen, or if the decorations were rewards for keeping a tidy uniform.

She expressed her concern at leaving Amico behind, but Aris assured her he would be brought to the estate and well tended by Lord Tovias’s grooms. Besides, he reminded her, there was no way Jonas would let them forget his horse.

Being in a dress, Llew was expected to ride in the carriage with Aris and the women while Cassidy, Alvaro and Jonas joined the escort. Surrounded by all the finery, Llew felt as though she were little more than the street urchin she had hoped to leave behind in Cheer. The dress felt like a costume. How could any of it be real?

She watched the city pass by as the group moved through the busy center of Rakun at a walk. The cobbled town square was a hive of activity. Overall, it was clean, well kept and the people seemed happy. Money exchanged hands in swift business as people moved from one stall to the next, and milling casually among the crowd were beautifully dressed military men. Some sort of city police force, Llew thought. Their uniforms stood out, even amongst the brightly colored expensive clothes of the civilians.

And the people were beautiful.

She assessed the city for the possibilities it could offer her: a denser population, more money. Two very obvious benefits over Cheer. Just how good were those street soldiers, anyway? With her keen eye she noted that there were no pick-pockets loitering in the crowd. Was that because the city simply hadn’t fostered them and it was ripe for someone to move in? Or did that mean that they didn’t survive long in these streets?

Of course, she didn’t need to assess such things. It was a city she wouldn’t be staying in, and she wasn’t going to be a street urchin anymore. She was going to be someone’s captive, though whose was yet to be determined. A chill shot down her spine at the recollection that Braph was still behind them. Surely she would be safe from him once inside Lord Tovias’s estate. Would he strike before then? Could he strike before then, with all these soldiers, decorative as they likely were, and Jonas? Her posture remained stiff and alert for the rest of the journey, waiting for the slightest hint that it was all about to end.

‘You alright?’ Jonas asked, bringing his horse in beside the carriage.

‘Braph.’

Jonas nodded, then he smiled. ‘Do you know why he wants you?’

‘To power his magic bracelet.’

‘But he’s got Aenuks for that. Do you know why he wants you?’

Llew shook her head.

Jonas smile broadened. ‘I think he don’t think he can beat me without your blood. But I’ve— we’ve got you.’

Llew smiled, too. So Braph needed her blood in order to fight Jonas, but he would have to fight Jonas before Llew would go with him. Her shoulders relaxed. She was going to be fine.

They passed through the town square and carried on down the main street. The city slowly changed from high density, high activity, to smaller, well-spaced houses, and quieter activity. Llew let her gaze meander up the road in front of them. The road climbed the hill ahead, stopping at a large estate part way up.

They arrived minutes later. A wide, open gateway admitted them into a cobbled courtyard. A water fountain played in the center and the group parted to go around it, rejoining on the other side. Beyond the fountain they were presented with an expansive entrance to a magnificent house, fronted by huge steps and massive marble pillars. It almost made Llew sick to think she’d spent her life struggling to survive, while people lived like . . . well, like this.

Waiting on the front steps of the mansion were more soldiers and household staff, at the front and center of which stood a man wearing a short red jacket and black trousers. He had dark curly hair with the deep widow’s peak that comes with age, a rounded belly, and looked to be about halfway between Jonas and Aris in age; he was taller than either and carried himself with a confidence and vigor that gave him an air of youth. His face broke into a huge grin at sight of the new arrivals.

‘Aris, my friend!’ he bellowed.

Aris jumped down from the carriage.

‘Gaemil.’ He walked into the outstretched arms and returned the embrace. ‘Good to see you again.’

Llew turned to Anya, who seemed to have paled at the sight of her future husband. She must have sensed Llew looking at her, and looked back with a sort of shrug and a smile. And then, realizing that perhaps a lady of her caliber shouldn’t have such thoughts, she pulled herself up and looked straight ahead, ready to face her future. Whatever his appearance he was, after all, Rakun’s Earl, the representative of Brurun’s King, and commanded as much power as any man Llew had ever encountered.

‘I trust you met no problems,’ Lord Tovias said.

‘None that we couldn’t handle, no.’

He raised an eyebrow at this, but Aris’s demeanor must have satisfied him because he asked no more and instead looked over to his guests.

‘Anyunca.’ He walked through the riders to the blonde girl, and held a hand out to guide her down the carriage’s small steps. He kissed the hand she presented him. ‘Your portraits did you no justice. I am stunned by your beauty.’

Anya flushed at the complement but maintained her poise, merely nodding politely.

Lord Tovias turned back to those standing on the steps.

‘Well, let us not dally. Show our guests to their rooms. You must all need to rest; for tonight we celebrate!’ He beamed, and leaned toward Aris. ‘I hope you don’t mind, old boy,’ he said. Aris shrugged.

Grooms stepped forward to take the horses to the stables and the house staff waited patiently for the guests to follow them inside. One of the soldiers broke ranks.

‘Jonas!’ The soldier ran down the steps to join the new arrivals. He had the same dark skin as Jonas but wore his hair shorter, and his uniform looked pristine. Somehow Llew couldn’t imagine Jonas wearing such a thing. She suspected that if he wore a uniform at all, there would be something about the way he wore it that would appear very non-uniform.

‘Hisham!’ The Syakaran beamed and threw his arms wide to envelop the other in an enthusiastic hug. ‘I didn’t see you in that get-up. What are you doin’ here?’

‘Aris thought you could do with some back-up here,’ Hisham said. ‘And someone’s got to keep you out of trouble.’

Jonas laughed and the two walked together into the mansion.

‘Who’s that?’ Llew asked.

Alvaro shrugged.

‘Hisham. Jonas’s friend from the Quaven army,’ Aris answered. ‘I thought you kids might deserve a break once we reached Rakun, so I arranged some help. Hisham’s the one Karan that Quaver would let me have.’

Llew raised an eyebrow and Aris replied with a wry twist of his lips. ‘Individually, they’re experts at finding trouble. Together, they somehow keep each other on the straight and narrow. Put it this way, he’ll find less trouble here.’

Inside, the house overwhelmed. The ceilings were extraordinarily high and the doorways not much lower; their feet echoed on hard marble floors as they walked between fine, intricately designed rugs that would muffle their foot-falls again; magnificent ornaments made of precious metals and stones lined the hallways. Llew was no connoisseur of art – but it was clear she was surrounded by wealth.

Anya was shown to her suite of rooms first. She glowed among the finery, and gushed politely over every detail. Then the others were taken to their rooms in the guest wing and allowed to settle in for an hour or so before a servant invited them to the dining hall for lunch. As with the rest of the estate, this was a huge room with artworks glowing with age on the walls and sculptures in every alcove.

A smörgåsbord was presented in silver platters along the middle of the table at the head of which sat Lord Gaemil Tovias. Anya was guided to sit by him and the two talked quietly throughout the meal. Llew smiled to see Anya warming to the man.

When the lids were raised from the hot food the room filled with delicious aromas that set Llew’s mouth watering; all other details were forgotten.

After the lunch, of which Llew ate too much, they were free to do as they pleased. Alvaro and Cassidy took the chance to visit their family in nearby Kas. Aris and Emylia went for a walk around the estate, and Jonas headed off somewhere with Hisham. Anya grabbed Llew, beckoning her back to her rooms before Llew had a chance to come up with her own plans.

‘Did you hear? Gaemil’s hosting a ball, with dancing and everything, in our honor tonight. And he’s filled my wardrobe with beautiful dresses. You have to help me pick one, and you’ll need one, too, of course.’

‘I think a dress is the least of my worries. I’ve never danced before.’

‘Oh hush. How you look will be the most important thing tonight. The dancing is secondary. Your partner will lead you anyway.’ Anya strode ahead of her in the most unladylike way. ‘Your job is to look ravishing. His job is to make sure you have a good time.’ She spoke over her shoulder.

‘Whose job?’

‘How am I supposed to know? You’re the one with the men falling over themselves for your attention.’ Anya grinned over her shoulder.

Llew felt her cheeks flush. She turned the questioning on Anya.

‘Do you like Gaemil?’

‘Of course I do,’ Anya replied, almost too quickly. They had reached her suite of rooms and she pushed the door wide open. Inside was a huge bed, covered in pillows and luxurious cream sheets and blankets. Llew only had a single bed in her room; Anya’s could have slept five.

At the sound of the door opening, a maid appeared from an adjoining room.

‘I am going to give Miss Llewella one of my dresses to wear tonight, so let’s find her something gorgeous,’ Anya instructed the woman, who smiled and crossed the room to another door that opened into yet another room that appeared to be filled with nothing but dresses and shoes and undergarments.

Hold on. Llew thought she’d been coming to help Anya pick a dress. She realized now she’d been ambushed.

‘Isn’t this fabulous?’ Anya’s eyes sparkled. ‘All I could ever want and more. I am such a lucky girl.’ She riffled through the garments her maid brought out and, after a moment of focused study of fabric and form, she returned to their conversation. ‘I admit I was disappointed.’ She spoke quietly so only Llew would hear. ‘But he’s lovely, isn’t he?’

Llew nodded and smiled as reassuring a smile as she could manage, thought she’d barely spoken a word to the lord. What could she, a street urchin, possibly have in common with him?

‘He has nice eyes . . .’ It was almost a question, and Anya’s eyes pleaded with Llew to agree.

‘He has lovely eyes.’

Anya pressed a dress under her chin, her head tilting as she assessed its color against Llew’s skin.

‘Hmm.’ She put the dress aside. ‘I just hadn’t pictured him . . . like that.’ She bit her lip. She turned away to grab another dress to hold up before Llew. After brief consideration, she waggled the garment, gesturing for Llew to try it on.

Llew looked for somewhere to dress and Anya laughed. ‘It’s not like you have anything I haven’t seen before. You’ve been passing as a boy too long, Llew – happy to share a room with the men, but too shy to dress in front of me.’

Llew turned away to shed her dress, which she needed Anya and her maid’s help with anyway, what with all the clips and ties. ‘I suppose ‘balding’ and ‘portly’ aren’t the first words that come to mind when you dream of your future love, are they?’ She started to pull the new dress on but looked over her shoulder when a reply failed to come from Anya.

Anya was almost beet red, and she flicked her head towards the maid.

‘But he does seem very nice. And you’re right about his eyes. And he is tall.’ Llew whisked the dress over her body and turned to face Anya’s critical inspection.

‘No, this one won’t do. Let’s try another.’ Anya turned back to the pile of dresses. ‘So, who will you go with?’

Llew pulled the dress unceremoniously over her head. She would go with Jonas if he would have her, but she didn’t know if he was the dancing type. Then again, neither was she. Alvaro seemed like the simplest choice, but something held her back from saying so.

‘Jonas must really like you.’

‘What makes you so sure?’ Llew asked, laying the dress on the bed.

‘Well, you’re still alive for a start.’ Anya held yet another dress up to Llew. ‘You really don’t know anything about the history of the Kara and Aenuks, do you?’

Llew shook her head.

Anya signaled Llew to try the dress on. ‘Let’s just say, the animosity between the races goes back further than recorded history,’ she said as Llew took the dress and began pulling it on. ‘The exact details were lost centuries ago. The story of how it started would depend on which side you talk to. But it’s been that way since the days of the Immortals.’

‘Immortals?’

‘They were an immensely powerful race. Powerful and cruel. Just because they could, they took control of nations and treated ordinary people like animals. Worse. They were like Syaenuks and Syakara combined . . . Well, they were Syaenuks and Syakara combined. Until someone discovered the magic to bind their children as one or the other.’

‘How do you know all this?’ Llew asked as she finished pulling the dress over her head and let it fall around her.

‘I read, Llew.’ Anya smiled. ‘That one’s nice. Turn.’ She wiggled her finger in a circle and Llew did as she was told. ‘Gosh, I wonder if Immortals could return. For instance, if you and Jonas were to have children.’

‘Anya, do you know where babies come from?’

Anya’s cheeks colored and she nodded.

‘Well, it’s messy, noisy, smelly, and people make the silliest faces.’

Anya paled.

‘Jonas and I are friends. I mean, I like him, a lot . . .’ Llew almost lost her train of thought, but mentally shook her mind clear. ‘But just the thought of seeing him like that . . .’ She made a face and Anya looked sick. Llew realized she was probably picturing Lord Tovias in the throes of passion . . . Oh, why did Llew have to think it, too? Still, Anya was to marry the man and would likely be expected to bear his children. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean— I’ve heard many girls say they like it. Usually when they’re being paid to . . . But I’m sure it’s different when you love the man. I mean, there was this Cat I knew in Cheer who said a woman’s enjoyment had less to do with how the man looked and more to do with how he made her feel . . . And since Gaemil is lovely, I’m sure . . .’ She let her voice trail off. Anya’s maid stood there staring at her, mouth half open.

Stepping from Anya’s room, back in the dress she’d arrived in and carrying the one Anya had decided upon, Llew could hear Jonas’s raised voice from down the hall. Aris’s rose in reply.

‘You go find out what’s going on,’ Anya whispered. ‘I’ll have this dress put in your room.’

Anya took the dress and shooed Llew along the corridor.

Llew stopped outside the door to Aris’s room, raising her hand to knock.

‘It will be safe enough. The security around this estate is second to none,’ said Aris’s voice through the door. ‘And I brought in those Quavens especially.’

‘We don’t know what he’s capable of. I won’t leave it behind.’

‘Let Hisham keep it for you. I was going to have him stick nearby, but I can have him stationed outside the ballroom.’

‘Braph is stronger than Hisham. I won’t risk it.’

‘You know Hisham usually carries his own knife.’

There was a pause as Jonas gathered his thoughts. ‘I know you think it’s a bunch of mumbo jumbo. But my father, my ma, Kierra, our baby . . . My knife, Aris. I just— I can’t.’

‘Then you can’t go.’

‘What do I need to be goin’ to a dance for, anyway?’

‘For some well-deserved fun with your friends.’

‘They’re not my friends.’

‘Jonas . . .’ Aris’s exasperated voice trailed off as Llew knocked on the door. ‘Come in.’

Llew opened the door quietly and poked her head in.

‘It’s just me.’ Both men looked at her, expressions set to neutral, with the animosity of moments earlier simmering just below the surface. ‘I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help hearing your voices up the hall. I wanted to make sure everything was okay.’

‘Everythin’s fine,’ Jonas stated flatly. He was leaning against an ornately carved desk, his arms folded. ‘I won’t be goin’ to tonight’s dance.’

‘But why?’ She failed miserably at disguising the disappointment in her voice.

‘They have a no-weapons policy.’

‘Jonas has decided that it is more important to baby-sit his knife than have fun with his friends.’

‘Then I won’t go either. I’ll keep you company.’

‘No. You go. You’ll have fun,’ Jonas urged.

Llew wasn’t sure about that. If Jonas didn’t go, could she really enjoy herself? He was the only one in whom she had any real confidence should Braph show up. How could she relax if he wasn’t nearby?

‘And you will go, too, Jonas. I know why you think you can’t leave it. But you have no family left. There is nobody else it can take away from you. The knife will be safe here.’

Jonas looked at Aris with fury burning in his eyes. He stormed to the door and flung it open.

‘Have a nice night.’ He strode through the door, pulling it behind him. Llew grabbed it before it slammed. She looked at Aris before following Jonas out. The man’s face was a mix of disappointment and pity.

‘You know what that knife means to him. He doesn’t need your pity.’

‘Or his guilt.’

Guilt? Why did he have to bring that up? The girl was behind them. Aghacia was behind them. Or was he talking about something else?

Llew pulled the door shut behind her.

Jonas had disappeared by the time Llew left Aris’s room. She smiled politely to another guest coming along the hallway and asked if he had seen the angry long-haired man leaving. He pointed her back the way he had come. Questioning several more strangers soon brought Llew outside, but seemingly no closer to Jonas. He had to go to the dance. She couldn’t coherently shape the reason why: she simply knew it.

‘Llew!’

Llew turned to see Alvaro approaching.

‘Hi, Al. I thought you were away for the afternoon. You didn’t see Jonas come this way, did you?’

‘I just got back.’ A shadow passed across his face and was gone. ‘Yeah, I saw him head into the stables. His usual happy self.’ He placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘I wanted to ask you . . .’ He took a deep breath.

‘Ask me what?’ She looked past him to the stable. ‘I’m kind of busy.’

Again, the flick of annoyance was gone in an instant and Alvaro pulled himself together. ‘If you wanted to go to the dance with me.’

‘Of course, I’m going.’

‘No, I meant with me. As partners.’

‘Um.’ Llew’s brain fizzed. If she was going to go with anyone in particular, she would have wanted it to be Jonas. But for now, at least, it seemed he wasn’t going to go, unless she could somehow convince him to. And she didn’t think begging to be his dance partner would work. She may as well go with Al. It didn’t mean she would have to dance with him and only him all night, did it? ‘Um, sure. I’ll— I’ll see you later.’ She gave him a quick smile and ran to the stable, slowing to a walk as she approached the building so as not to scare the horses – or Jonas for that matter.

Jonas stood at his paint gelding’s stall, the animal nuzzling him as he leaned on the half-door. He seemed relaxed in the presence of the horse.

‘Have you had him long?’

He looked startled to hear her voice.

‘Sorry. I followed you.’

He shrugged and turned back to the horse. ‘He’s Quaven military, too. We’ve been through a bit together.’

Llew stood beside him and reached out to pat the big gentle head. As she lifted her arm, her hand brushed against Jonas’s bone-handled knife by his waist, and an idea formed in her mind. Old habits and skills switched into action, in particular her keen awareness of exactly where his attention was focused, and absolute control over every muscle in her body.

‘He is very beautiful.’ Keep patting him. Just keep looking at those lovely horse eyes.

‘Aris just doesn’t get it,’ said Jonas and Llew tensed. Patience.

‘When Braph and I were separated – I was ten, him fifteen – we swapped our most treasured possessions. His was the wooden gryphon. Mine was my knife.’ He pulled it from its sheath and held it, leaning his arms on the stall door. Llew cursed silently, then plastered an understanding smile on her face when he looked from the knife to her. ‘When Aris took me in, he was real pissed. I mean, one of the last Syakara givin’ his knife to a mere Karan?’ He laughed, turning back to the blade. ‘I was a stupid kid. It was mine by birthright, but it should have been Braph’s. He was older. I knew he wanted it. And I loved him so much . . .’ He sneered at his own weakness.

Llew placed a hand on his arm but didn’t know what to say. Put it back so I can take it. Again. She almost gave up right then. How could she do that to him? She’d already stolen the knife in Cheer and already insulted him, several times. What kind of friend was she?

The kind that would carry his burden for him, that’s what kind.

‘There ain’t a day goes by I don’t wish I’d given him somethin’ else.’ Jonas swallowed his rising emotion, his lips twisting and his jaw clenching. ‘If I’d had it, she might’ve had a fightin’ chance. Or maybe it just would’ve played out differently . . .’

She could’ve told him it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t have known, that if Braph hadn’t had that knife it would have been another one – it wasn’t designed for killing Syakara, after all. But he wouldn’t want to hear any of that. He wanted to feel. He wanted to know that his need to protect the knife was justified. She squeezed his arm, hoping it would be enough to let him know she understood.

He looked at her, past her, barely seeming to see her for a while. Then his eyes focused and he smiled his thanks. He slid the knife home and rubbed a hand up and down his horse’s face.

Llew moved swiftly.

Damn! A dress didn’t have all the handy places to put things that shirt and trousers offered. She bunched the knife into the folds and, holding it securely, backed away from him.

‘Well, I’ll leave you to your thinking, then.’

Jonas grunted.

Once she was a few paces out of the stable she ran back to the guest wing, ignoring the startled looks of everyone she passed, with her hand still clasping the side of her dress.

‘Llew?’

Approaching her room, Llew looked up when someone called her name. ‘Hisham?’ The soldier was loitering by her door.

‘That’s the one.’ He beamed at her and held out a hand. ‘Aris sent me to keep an eye on you.’

‘Ah.’ Llew faltered. Her right hand was still clutching the folds of her skirt around Jonas’s knife. She held out her left hand and he swapped hands to shake it. ‘Caught my skirt on a nail. Big hole,’ she blustered. ‘Very embarrassing. Must get ready for tonight’s dance.’ She backed through her door, smiling at him.

Inside, she clicked the door closed and leaned against it to catch her breath. She freed the knife from the folds of the skirt and held it in front of her. Well, she’d done it. Keeping the knife out of the wrong hands was no longer Jonas’s immediate concern.

A bath had been placed in her room and soon someone would come to fill it with steaming water. The dress she was to wear hung from the door of her wardrobe. She crossed the room and slid the knife under her pillow.