Richan must have said something to Surio as well, for the stable boy actually invited Nikolas to join him and Jozin. Begrudgingly, as Nikolas suspected Surio's smile was just too wide for his face when the offer was made.

But as it turned out, Nikolas wasn't a complete fool on the training field. Even Valdi had a word or two for him, mainly correcting his posture, and as Jozin said later, "Valdi doesn't talk to anyone unless he thinks they're good. Or good enough," Jozin laughed, "he'll say that."

Perhaps seeing that Nikolas wasn't useless prompted Surio to be friendlier, for he offered to share a sweetcake. "You know in Skapina we store ice in the winter and in the summer we have this with maple syrup."

"It sounds good," said Nikolas.

"It is the best," Surio said, and he offered another cake to Nikolas. "Skapina isn't as pretty in the summer, 'cause we have all our special—" here he looked at Jozin and said quickly, "—things in the winter."

Nikolas had never experienced winter as cold as Surio described it, but from the sounds of things, Skapina was a bounty of food in the winter. That was very rare, Nikolas knew from his father's teachings that winter always came with famine in Icfeld. But perhaps Skapina had very well stocked larders. All in all, it was a great morning and when Jozin bid him farewell for the noon meal, Nikolas couldn't help but burst into Brytha's room where she and a veritable army of seamstresses and tailors surrounded Richan. Nikolas couldn't recognize whatever fashion they were attempting to put Richan into, but the fabric matched his eyes and Richan looked cheerful enough.

"How did you do it?" Nikolas demanded, running towards his older brother.

"Watch it!" Brytha snapped, her eyes on whatever cloth was pinned on Richan. "Don't touch it with your grubby little hands Nikolas, this is silk!"

"What did I do?" said Richan, though from the twinkle in his eyes, Nikolas suspected he already knew.

"Surio! What did you say to him?"

"You talked to a little stableboy?" Brytha said, rolling her eyes.

"I talked to lots of people," said Richan. To Nikolas he said, "When you want people to act how you'd like them to act, just take a moment to understand what they want to be. Surio's always wanted to be a loyal Rytsar—" Brytha let out an incredulous laugh while Richan gave Nikolas a friendly smile, "I appealed to his better nature."

"What nature?" said Brytha, and Nikolas was inclined to agree.

"Look, you can't just order people around all the time," Richan said patiently.

"I disagree," said Brytha.

The two of them began bickering, their friendly argument was only interrupted by Ada bursting through the room.

"Mama's home!" she shouted, "Mama's home!"

"Mother?" Brytha's eyes widened, she met Richan's eyes who also looked surprised, "Now?"

- - -

He didn't see his mother until dinner time, where the Masteritsa was invited along with Jozin who sat next to her. They were all seated at the big dining table for the first time in a long time, his siblings lined up by age, except for Felie, who insisted on sitting next to their mother. There were heavy circles under her eyes, Nikolas noted, and she wore the battle gloves of the Tsaritsa's Voevoda. She only took it off once when the Masteritsa offered a hand towards her, and the Masteritsa's smile, so warm and soft before, froze into a thin line.

"Voevoda Diase," said the Masteritsa, "how was your journey?"

"Pleasant," said his mother shortly.

The two women met each other's gaze and held it for a long while.

"Diase," said his father, clearing his throat. His father's smile was strained, his grey eyes flickering from one woman's face to the other. "Perhaps, Masteritsa, you would like to speak with my wife in her study?"

"Voevoda Diase," said the Masteritsa, and for the first time, she sounded cold. Nikolas felt a chill run down his back, and the windows of the dining room rattled. "To whom did you pay your toll? For," she glanced around at the table and her eyes landed on Richan, Lianne, Felie, Ada and finally back to Diase, "they have surely lied to you."

Diase stood up, and smiled thinly, "Do not speak of such things, Masteritsa. For you know that is treason."

"You have not paid it in full," said the Masteritsa, also standing up. She gestured for Jozin to stand up and come beside her. "I cannot help you, Voevoda." To Aldeim she said softly, "Thank you for your hospitality, Aldeim."

"We're leaving? " Jozin whispered, tapping his mother's hand, "Mother? Why? "

She only squeezed his shoulder in response, but Nikolas caught one word from her mouth, a Skapinian word he could recognize by now, "—magic. "

Jozin's eyes widened and he glanced at Nikolas, shaking his head sadly before he left the room with the Maserista, the door closing with a final click behind them.

"Diase," said Aldeim, "What did you do." When she didn't respond, he stood up, pushing the chair to the ground with a clatter, "WHAT did you do?" His mother refused to meet his father's eyes. She tried pushing him away, but Aldeim stood firm. "What, Diase? What did you do?"

"I did my duty," she said finally.

Aldeim's eyes widened, and he stepped away from her, shaking his head, "No."

"Yes."

Nikolas felt a tap on his shoulder, and by his side Richan gave him a tense look, "We should leave," he said, motioning to Brytha who had already gathered up their younger siblings.

The wooden oak of the dining room door kept out most sounds, but even it could not stop Nikolas from hearing Aldeim's fury. "WHY WOULD YOU DO SUCH A THING?"

Whenever something went awry with their parents, which was rare, their mother and father rarely fought, it was Brytha and Richan that usually stepped up. Divide and conquer, Brytha would say, which meant that she would take the younger girls to their rooms, or a room and Richan would likewise handle the twins and the older girls. Or they would switch depending on the situation, Nikolas remembered an infamously long and loud spat between his mother and father when she wanted to send Richan off to be properly educated. Everyone knew Aldeim favored Richan, but Richan was so… favorable that no one bothered to contest that position.

The two of them left Nikolas by himself, as they both deemed him, as Richan put it, 'intelligent enough to keep out of trouble'. That was how he found himself in the Masteritsa's quarters. It seemed barely half an hour since she had left with Jozin from the dining room, and she should still be packing her things, if she was like the other guests his father had hosted. But Nikolas passed by Rytsars carrying a large wooden trunk and two smaller ones to one of the wooden wagons, and heard the sounds of horses being saddled up.

They were leaving, he thought, biting his lip, Jozin was leaving and they didn't even spend that much time together! And what if Jozin didn't want to use the dragon scale mirror?

He stood there in the corridor, wondering what he could say and was nearly collided into by Valdi carrying his own things outside. The two of them stared at each other, before the corners of the man's beard twitched and he turned to call back into the room.

"Jo, it's your little soldier friend, " said Valdi, "he wants to say something. " He shifted the pack he had on his back and held out his hand to Nikolas, "Was nice training for a young Rytsar."

"Me?" Nikolas gestured towards himself, "I'm not a Rytsar."

"A Knight?" offered the older man. "This new word from the Icfeld? Knight," he looked bemused, and shrugged, "Rytsar, knight, soldier, what matters?"

"Knight," Nikolas muttered to himself, rolling the word around in his tongue. Icfeld had many of them after all, and there were many words for the things one can do to serve the Queen. He liked the sound of it, perhaps he could be a better knight than he could a Rytsar. They had to know how to read properly, Rytsars.

"Nikolas!" Jozin came bounding out of the door, rather breathless, "I'm sorry, I asked if we could stay longer and my mother said no, well, she said we had things to do as well and she did say that she's sure I found what I was looking for here anyway so there's no point staying any longer—" Valdi had pointedly walked off, Nikolas noticed, as Jozin was rambling on. "— I could send you letters with things from Skapina! Surio thinks you'd like to try one of the cakes and I think you should as well—"

"Jozin," the Masteritsa, appearing from the bedroom they shared, "please don't tell him."

He gave her a half glance, "I didn't! " he exclaimed, "I was only telling Nikolas I would send him something, and we can talk as well, I promise!" At this he held out a hand, palm up towards Nikolas.

"Put your palm on top of his," said the Masteritsa, "and you'll grasp fingers, like a handshake, but—"

"— a palmshake," said Jozin, and did what the Masteritsa described. Then he said, very solemnly, and in a much more sober tone than his jovial ones, "I promise to talk with Nikolas," then when the Masteritsa nodded pointedly, added, "and be his friend."

"... and so do I." Nikolas repeated, hoping that it was the correct thing to say.

It must have been, because Jozin gave him a winning smile and the three of them began walking towards the courtyards and the horses that were surely already harnessed to the wagons. He didn't expect to see Surio, and very much doubted that he would see the boy at all, but Surio poked his head out from the Masteritsa's wagon. After putting down a stool for the Masteritsa to step up to the carriage, he scurried over to where Nikolas stood with Jozin.

"So," said Surio, "we are leaving."

"Yes," said Nikolas, resisting the urge to add, 'obviously'.

"It was nice meeting you," said Surio, then adding, "your brother Richan, tell him I said it was nice talking with him. He was—" Surio swallowed, "— is very nice." He offered his palm to Nikolas as well, and, like Jozin before him, in a solemn voice said, "I wish you and your family well, and I'll send you a cake, as long as you're still living here when I get Svela to make it for me."

The two boys climbed into the wagon, Jozin opening up a window to wave out as the wagon began rolling away. "Goodbye!"

Nikolas waved back, forcing a smile onto his face, his left hand palming the necklace around his throat. 'You are always welcomed in Skapina,' the Masteritsa had told him. Perhaps one day then, he could go, so there was no reason to be upset about the farewell.

… It would only be many years later, upon reflection, that Nikolas wondered if Surio's words were an omen of things to come.