“They can’t even be bothered to send a road-repair crew, or a tax collector, or a cleric, in the past ten years. Now we are apparently their ‘subjects’ and must send a ‘tithe.’ Ass.” Seffon rants in a low voice, scowling at the door.

Leah bites back a grin, her anger melting away as she watches this new, much more unpolished, side of Seffon unfold. “What was that thing he called you? Tane?”

“Thane. According to Devad, that is my rank.”

“So I suppose you technically are a Lord, then. Huh.” Vivitha steps around the door and says this casually. Seeing Seffon jump a bit, she shrugs. “Fake Leah abandoned me in the hallway, I didn’t know where else to go. Decided to stay close to my bodyguard for everyone’s sake. Don’t worry, I kept my face hidden from the Devadiss fellow.”

Seffon mouths the nickname in confusion. “Well anyway, yes, though I hardly need your approval for a station my family has held for three generations.”

Vivitha gives a sarcastic half-bow, and Seffon grimaces.

“Kids, kids, kids.” Leah snaps her fingers until they turn to her. “More important things. What tithe? And why did you want to send me to Devad?”

“I ought to hand-pick the legion leader, or else the Jonkheer might decide to pick it himself – and then it might be someone I’m unwilling to give up. I wanted you here when he made the request, Leah, to put you on display as it were. Show off my prize fighter, to not suggest I was hiding you to keep you for myself.”

“Jonkheer?” Vivitha sounds impressed. “All the way out here? Damn, imagine if Valerin knew.”

“What’s a – ” Leah starts to ask.

Seffon and Vivitha answer simultaneously. “Agent of the prince.”

“Oh. Whoa.” Leah plays over the conversation. “Was I rude by not bowing to him that first time?”

Seffon smirks. “Very, but please feel free to be as rude as you like to him. Especially since you’re an uncultured savage and he can’t expect better of you, while I have to grovel and simper.”

Vivitha’s eyebrows raise appreciatively at his tone.

“Snobbish goat of a man,” Seffon continues. He mimics the half-bow and then waves a dismissive hand at the closed door. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if Volst sends their own representative to ask that we support them! I half expected that to be your purpose, Miss Vivitha, when you first arrived.”

“Miss Chevin. And I don’t think Valerin would ask for your help even if they were hanging over a bottomless cliff, and we’re not quite there yet.”

“Chevin…” Seffon mutters, brows furrowed. “Cevenon? We have people here by that name.”

Vivitha pays abrupt attention. “What do you mean?”

“A student, a few years back…and I think there’s one in the militia currently. A farming family, from the south, near where the river leaves the mountains.”

Vivitha stands straight. “A lot of people by that name in that region.”

Seffon watches her carefully, then shrugs. “Never mind. I assume you were listening in?”

“Gotta make sure she stays out of trouble.” Vivitha tilts her head toward Leah.

“Indeed. No small task.” He nods to Vivitha. “You ought to go back to the hospital.”

“Sir, I am fully recovered. I would rather have proper rooms, if possible. Or do you have a dungeon here?”

Seffon’s face is blank, then amused. “What would a school need with a dungeon? We have better policies in place for when a student fails an exam than to throw them in the stockade. However, if you insist on being our prisoner, I can find some fine shackles for you, and send you off with a fleet of guards to the nearest homestead with a prison on its land.”

Vivitha is silent for a long moment. “Why are you making jokes with me? I’m your enemy.”

Seffon’s face falls. “You are Leah’s friend. I suppose I was treating you the way I’d treat her.”

“You can act however you want towards fake Leah, but I am here fleeing my homeland and my friends during a time of war. I am here as a deserter, fine – but not as a turncoat.”

Seffon runs his fingers through his hair. “Well then. I will find you a room suitable to your deep need to be punished. Would you like a window?”

Vivitha looks like she’s about to go off, and Leah steps in. “Wait for me in the hospital, I’ll meet you there and we’ll go to wherever your new rooms will be.” For a second Vivitha looks like she’s going to argue the point, but finally she turns without response and leaves.

When she is out of sight, Seffon gestures to one of the guards outside to follow her and keep an eye on her movements. Leah frowns but does not challenge this.

“So?” Seffon says, taking a seat at his desk. When Leah does not immediately answer, he continues. “You sent her away, not me. Did you have something to say?”

Leah shrugs and sits down opposite him. “Apparently the five knew Leah was an invert, or whatever you want to call it, but they didn’t know about Jeno. They actually thought Leah was sleeping with the captain.”

“Eschen?!”

“Mhmm.”

Seffon considers this with a worried expression. “And were you? Was she?”

“Doubt it,” Leah says. “At the very least Jeno would have known something was up if the other Leah had done anything like that.”

“The ‘real’ Leah, or so it seems.”

Leah smirks. “The nickname was the only way I could get her to refer to me politely.”

“I like it.”

“It’s growing on me too, frankly.”

“Anything else?”

“Pfft, not really. The horse is doing okay, we checked up on him earlier this morning. That’s how we noticed the Jean-cuillère arrive.”

“Jonkheer.”

Leah waves a hand. “Agent of the prince.”

“And what is your opinion of our visitor?”

“Pompous, uses the royal we, doesn’t do his research ahead of time to know about the people he’s going to see in a day. Apparently his stirrups are made of cheap metal, but that’s Vivi’s observation, not mine.”

Seffon chuckles. “That’s all classic Devad.” He sighs and reaches over to grab a forgotten mug of herbal tea, whispering something and tracing a rune in tea on the side of the ceramic. Steam suddenly rises from it again, and he takes a sip. Leah watches in fascination.

“So what’s your plan, Iroh?”

“Hmm?”

“About the war? You always said it was guaranteed to spill over into the Enterlan, and your corner of it especially. Now, Devad has ordered you to join on their side of things, pretending that they’re only joining to spite Volst, despite the fact we know they had a hand in orchestrating it all along. Also, remember that they helped outfit the team that tried to assassinate you. So? What’s the plan?”

Seffon shrugs and sips the tea. “War will come. We will defend the Hold. Afterwards, whatever the outcome in Volst, Devad will declare us traitors to the crown, and will send more – and better – fighters, to arrest or execute me.”

“Meanwhile, Cheden lays siege to Valerin, starving out the city and terrorizing the countryside. You said those farming families were cousins to the farmers here?”

“What can we do?” Seffon gestures widely, mug in one hand. “Valerin will never come to us for help. Even if they somehow survive the siege and decide to push back, they’ll likely end up fighting here too to get at Jeno, or you, or me.”

“You could always offer your help, before it gets that far.” It comes out a little tetchy, but Leah does not try to soften it.

Seffon frowns. “Offer fealty to Volst? Become Jun province again? Devad would claim Volst was usurping their land; we’d be struck down within the week.”

“You don’t have to sacrifice your sovereignty, or your standing. You could even reinforce it.”

Seffon is shaking his head. “We are subjects, in their eyes.”

“Then join this war as an independent force.”

“What?”

“Why not ally yourselves with Volst?”

Seffon’s jaw drops. He makes vague noises of indignant protest, never quite forming words.

Leah tilts her head and shrugs. “Well one or the other of them is going to try and strong-arm you into this war, sooner or later; why not join it on your own terms? Devad is not subjugating itself to Cheden by joining the war on their side, and you wouldn’t be if you offered relief to Valerin.” Leah smiles. “And they’d have to accept. How petty would it look, to be starving under siege, and to refuse freely offered help from a neighbouring nation just because they used to be your colony?”

“Oh, and now you’re freely offering our supplies and soldiers?”

“Freely, but,” Leah holds up a finger, “They would be repaying you by publicly acknowledging your nationhood status on the international scene.”

Seffon narrows his eyes, turning the mug between his hands. “Damn you. Damn you, but it might work.” He runs a hand along his jaw, and sets the mug down on the table, pulling a piece of scroll paper towards him. “Miss Chevin is in no state to ride yet, and you must remain here until tomorrow morning at least. Will you be ready to ride by then?”

“Where to?” Leah asks with a grin.

“Valerin city. I want this missive to be placed in Lord Valerid’s hands directly, and I think you can figure out a way for it to happen.”

*

Leah leaves Seffon, who is focused on the wording of the letter and unaware of his surroundings, the tea clearly forgotten again. She fetches two breakfasts from the mess, returns to the hospital, and realises Vivitha has still not been assigned rooms.

“You’re bunking with me,” she announces, stepping through the door. Vivitha looks up from a journal, snapping the pages closed as Leah nears.

“Huh?”

Leah sits down opposite her and hands her a wrap. “I’ve got a nice-sized room. We set up a spare bedspread on the floor, and you stay with me, where I can ‘guard’ you, day and night. You’re a dangerous criminal, you know.”

Vivitha sizes her up, uncertain. “I sleep on the floor?”

“Is that not close enough to dungeon conditions for you? We can sprinkle some soiled woodchips on the ground, if you want it to be more realistic.”

Vivitha eats with one hand and resumes her writing with the other. “The two of you. Peas in a pod, I swear.”

Leah does not respond to the taunt. “Also, we’re returning to Valerin tomorrow morning.”

That catches her attention. Vivitha sets down the pencil – wood- and string-wrapped graphite, similar to the one Leah uses for her notes – and stares, mouth open, food forgotten.

“I’m going with you. Possibly others, I don’t know, he changes his mind often without telling me.”

“He’s letting me go?”

“We’re delivering a letter. I also would like to see what the situation is with my own eyes – not that I don’t trust you, I just want to get an idea of the forces we’ll be facing.” Leah notices Vivitha’s attention shift at that. “Seffon has decided – is considering – is offering – ”

“What?”

Leah leans in closer. There isn’t anyone close enough to overhear, but she still takes the precaution; she doesn’t want this news to spread prematurely. “Seffonshold is going to declare itself for Volst. It is going to join the war as an independent state, on the side of Valerin.”

Vivitha slumps back, clearly still processing the words.

Slowly, giving the archer time to process the information, Leah explains that they have a full day to prepare, and that they will likely only know the final details in the evening. She asks what Vivitha would like to do, in the meantime.

“I suppose…” Vivitha does not finish the thought.

Leah tries to sympathise. “Can you tell me what you expected to happen, when you got here?”

Vivitha takes another bite, thoughtfully, and a little bit shyly Leah thinks. “Telling Leah what had happened. Hoping that would be enough to bring her memories back. Breaking out of prison here with her. Fleeing back to Valerin. Saving Kain, saving Valerin, leaving on our next adventure with the five.”

“Well, that’s basically what we’re doing, minus a few steps.”

Vivitha shakes her head. “But not with her. And now Lord Seffon is entering the war.”

Leah frowns. “That’s not a bad thing. He’s entering it to help Valerin.”

Vivitha scoffs. “You never understood.”

“Leah never understood. I’m fake Leah, remember? And I know now, about the duel when Probesc was created, and about the atonement price three hundred years ago.”

Vivitha is silent. “Then what’s your opinion, oh wise fake Leah?”

“That the magic-trained brother was full of himself, and should have respected the rules of his homeland, considering both Valerin and Probesc followed the same anti-magic rules. That Devad is narrow-minded and ridiculously proud for a nation incapable of even minimally ruling the lands it conquers. That Valerin overemphasises Seffonshold’s role in the duel; the whole thing was tragic, but Seffon’s family did not incite it, Lord Valerid’s own family did.”

Vivitha listens, at times curious, at times indignant, mostly pensive. “You’re certainly not her. Where’d you learn all this?”

Leah shrugs. “Books.”

Vivitha half-laughs at that. “You’re certainly not her.”

“You know, Seffon is going to be distracted with writing that missive; I could show you around, maybe bring you to the library? I think the training grounds are probably off-limits, but I know the captain of the guard – actually no, she was on duty during the rescue, she might not like to see you again.”

“The one with the thick triceps?” Vivitha perks up at the mention of the guard. Leah raises an eyebrow, and Vivitha makes a sour face. “She was a beautiful fighter. She knocked one of my arrows out of the air with her sword, and I don’t think it was an accident.”

Leah grins. “Yeah, I’m definitely not introducing you to her.”