Temporary bridges have been suspended over the rapids of the middle current, built of rope and wood. No horses or carts can cross them, but people laden with food and medicine make regular trips across, depositing their bundles in the courtyard to be taken to the larder, or the hospital, or the kitchen.

“There will be a meeting of the representatives,” Seffon explains, as they walk away from the manor and towards the estate. “Algi, Bair, Volst, and I suppose myself.” His expression gets a little uncomfortable at that.

“But I’m not actually going to have to go to that?” Leah says, trying not to sound desperate. “You said it was important that I not be seen by the Algic side, with my memories all…wrong.”

“You told him.” Seffon’s tone is patient yet exasperated. “You told the ranking Bairish official about your memories, and that it was my fault.”

“Hey now.” Leah gives his arm a friendly slap. “I didn’t say it was your fault; all I said was it happened in the line of duty, and was magical in nature. I named you as the person helping find a way to fix it.” She shrugs casually. “He seemed impressed by that, actually. He knows your reputation.”

“Oh?” Seffon perks up, then mentally slaps himself with a grimace. “No, that’s not the point. The point is that he will doubtless have told everyone else, or the crew of the longboat will have. Everyone will know.”

“Is that bad?”

“No, it just means that it’s not a secret anymore, and that you decided to make it not a secret anymore by telling him first.”

“But I didn’t tell him first. Technically I told you first, and then Jeno, and then the five.”

“None of us are Masters of the Tribunal, Leah,” Seffon says, rubbing his forehead. “And none of us have ever asked you to marry us, either.”

Jeno sort of did, or at least asked me to elope, or be her secret lover. Leah forces those thought far away. “Okay, I think I see. I’ve told him a secret first, which implies I trust him. He might take that as encouragement. But he asked me a year ago. A year which, kindly recall, I don’t remember. And he knows I don’t remember.”

Seffon laughs at they approach one of the rope bridges and begin the crossing – a heart-racing experience, but the construction is sturdy and they get to the other side fine.

Meredith pats her on the back. “Leah, it’s politics. It’s not just that you confessed a secret to him – or that you accepted his offer of a ride to the island – or that he once asked you to marry him – or that you promised to see him at the meeting tonight.”

“I didn’t promise anything, I just said it was possible – ”

“In nobility-speak, that means you said yes,” Meredith says with a sigh. “And all of those things combined…”

The courtyard is bustling with activity. Adan leads the way, imposing and brooding, clearing a path just by glaring. Seffon and Leah follow next, with Meredith and Vivitha at the rear.

“So what are my options?” Leah asks. “If I’ve dug this hole for myself, how do I dig out? Is there a polite way to say ‘whoops, miscommunication, never mind?’”

Seffon rocks his head on his shoulders, hesitant. “What have you remembered about Leah Talesh’s childhood?”

Leah reflects. “That she grew up on a flax farm.”

“And how often do you think a girl from a flax farm is asked by a Master of the Tribunal for her hand in marriage?”

“What, so I don’t get to say no?” Leah stops walking for a moment.

“Leah, listen to me.” Meredith comes up to face her and holds her shoulder, eyes sincere. “You are never going to do better than a Bairish Master. He’s the closest they’ve got to a Duke in that part of the country! Don’t say no to him.”

“Meredith I’m gay! I don’t want a ‘him!’” Leah says, laughing partly out of humour and partly out of panic.

“She can just not go to the meeting,” Vivitha says quietly. “I mean, she doesn’t have the clearance to be there anyway – she’s hardly noble, as we’ve just said. Also, who would she be representing? She can’t be representing Algi if she doesn’t even remember the language, or growing up there.”

Seffon opens his mouth to protest, then closes it and frowns in thought. “But she said she would possibly – ”

“Yes, and that’s the exact polite response to give to someone when the real answer is ‘no, I wouldn’t be allowed unless someone changed the laws specifically for me.’” Vivitha shrugs and resumes walking. “I think you should just not go. Maybe send him a letter, saying that you regret not being able to see him, but the laws wouldn’t permit, so on. Send it after the meeting, though, so he’s not tempted to change the laws just for you.” She tilts her head in thought. “And get someone else to write it, so it’s legible.”

“My hand writing is much better than Leah’s, thank you very much,” Leah says grumpily. “Do you think it will work?”

Meredith hums pensively, falling back into place behind them. “It’s a good soft no to begin with,” she muses. “And then we can work towards the hard no later on, if that’s really what you want.”

“Meredith: gay.” Leah gestures to herself. “I do not want.”

Meredith seems uncomfortable. “I’ve never heard that word for it, but I assume you mean…”

Leah sighs. “Yes, I mean that.”

“And when Eschen said…”

Leah looks over her shoulder, and Meredith’s face is pensive but not judgemental. “Yes.”

“Huh.”

Leah does not comment. Meredith takes the lead from Adan once they reach the halls, and guides them through to the cleaned and readied rooms prepared for them; four rooms in a line, separate from each other but only a wall apart, looking out over the river to the west.

“Your translator is somewhere here already, apparently,” Meredith says, and it takes Leah a few seconds to realise she means Solace. “Um, Leah…”

She hesitates at the door to her room. “Hm?”

“I suppose there’s some unfinished business, now that the siege is over.”

Leah blinks a few times. “I’m not following.”

Meredith sighs. “The accusations against you are obviously false, now that we know Seffon is not the aggressor – or, Lord Seffon, I guess – so there’s no reason to keep your belongings in custody.”

“Belongings?” Leah perks up. “You know where my spear and shield are?”

“No, we don’t,” Meredith gives her an odd look, then sighs patiently. “Your things, Leah. Your clothing, your diary, your saddle, all that stuff.”

Leah nearly buzzes with excitement. “My diary?” Too little too late, but there might yet be answers in there.

“It’s all in Lord Valerid’s office, come on,” Meredith says, gesturing for her to follow.

“Won’t it be locked?”

“I have a key.”

Leah raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

Meredith shoots her a sour look. “I am a captain of the guard now, you know. And ever since Verith…”

Leah hangs her head at Meredith’s sudden silence, then suddenly stands straight again and reaches out to take Meredith’s arm. “Gods above, I totally forgot!”

“What?” Meredith looks at her in worry, stopping in the hallway.

“Kain!” Leah says, grinning. “Kain’s alright! She’s in Seffonshold, looking after – looking after Jeno, and recovering from a compulsion. She’s okay!”

Meredith nearly collapses, sighing in relief, her eyes closing. “Oh Gods,” she says weakly. “She’s not hurt? She’s really alive, and fine?”

“A little confused but fine, yes,” Leah says.

“Thank the Gods. What made you think of it?”

“Well, um…” Leah shrugs awkwardly, resuming their walk. “Eschen…had her under a compulsion. Different from the one he used on Jeno, much more powerful. He was using her as a soldier.”

Meredith bites back a curse. “How did you find out?”

“Meredith…” Leah almost stops again, but the worry of being overheard keeps her moving. “Kain killed Verith. Under Eschen’s orders.”

Meredith’s face falls. “When he and you were leading Lady Valerid out of the keep?” At Leah’s nod, she sighs. “Gods…his body was returned to us with the wound, but I didn’t put it together that it was exactly the sort of attack a rogue would make.”

“I don’t think she remembers any of it, and I doubt she ever will,” Leah says, unsure if she’s saying it as reassurance or as an extra grief. “But she’s better now, and with Eschen gone…” She stops talking.

Meredith takes her hand for a split second. “How’s it feel?”

“I don’t know,” Leah says. “I sort of hoped to get a few more answers out of him, but I wasn’t about to ask those questions with people listening in. It would have felt too revealing, and too greedy, to ask him about personal stuff when the interrogation was supposed to be about the war.”

“Personal stuff?” Meredith asks. They have arrived at the door, and she pulls out a ring of keys to unlock it.

Leah clears her throat. “Apparently the old Leah used to spend a lot of time at the Cheden ships.”

“Oh.” Meredith nods curtly. The lock clicks, and they go in; the room is still messy, but brightly lit and empty. “You wanted to know about the sex.”

“Or lack thereof,” Leah says pointedly. “Whenever I asked him without a truth spell active, he always said nothing happened, but he also always…hinted that something had happened. He certainly wanted something to have happened.”

Meredith shoots her an odd look at that, but doesn’t question it. “Well you never spent the whole night out of the keep, I can say that much with certainty. Other than that…” she freezes for a moment. “Oh. I suppose your other mysterious absences could be explained by you and Jeno…”

“Mhmm.” Or Kimry, but maybe now’s not the time to mention that.

“Ah.” Meredith fetches the bundle of Leah’s things from one of the drawers. “Either way. I don’t know what sorts of answers you’ll find in here. The only things of note are the scribbles you made after the memory-loss.”

“The scribbles?”

“The note you left yourself,” Meredith says with a sad look. “I read through the recent entries of the diary, looking for anything that might give away your enchantment. The notes about nations and money I could understand as being sensible, but then the note…” She sighs. “Even before you told us about the switch, that note made me realise that what you’d said during the interrogation was true: you weren’t her. It terrified me, don’t get me wrong, but I had time to think about it, and think about what I would have done in your shoes. And I realised that you acted very responsibly, and very sensibly – and that I probably would have acted like dumb muscle.”

Leah accepts the bundle of things. “Really? You wouldn’t have immediately buried yourself with research, looking into the rules of the world?”

“I would have done everything in my power to blend in and be respected, and I would have waited and hoped the answers would come to me once I fit in well enough.” She smiles ruefully. “Not an easy self-realisation, I will tell you that. So when you told me – sir!” Meredith stands suddenly ramrod-straight.

Leah turns around and sees Lord Valerid at the door, looking distracted and only slightly surprised.

“Captain Havren,” he says, with a small smile. “Good to know you made it through.”

“You as well, sir,” she says, voice tight. “I’m glad Leah got you out alright.”

“Yes, she…” The Baron frowns, then goes to the desk. “That companion of yours is a strange woman, Miss Talesh.”

“Yes she is,” Leah says, not needing anything more to know who he’s talking about.

The Baron’s eyes fall to the bundle in her arms. “You’ve come for your belongings? Yes, right. Perfectly right of you, no need to keep those. Have you got the pin as well?”

“The pin, sir?” Leah asks.

Lord Valerid rifles around in a drawer, then pulls up a silver pin with a loop of ribbon. “It seems appropriate, given the circumstances.”

Leah takes it hesitantly. “I…thank you, but I can’t really say I want a pin that commemorates my murdering the fighters who would go on to be our allies in this war.”

“What? Oh, no – Miss Talesh, the honour you were given for killing the missive-bearers has been revoked, long since revoked, and we cannot un-revoke it. This is for your service since then.”

Leah looks down at it. “I understand. Thank you, sir.”

“Yes, well, only appropriate.” He sits in the chair, eyes focused on the paperwork he pulls in front of him. He pauses. “Least I can do.”

Leah adds it to the bundle. “Good day, sir.”

Meredith gives him a nod, and the Baron returns it; she and Leah leave the room and close the door behind them. Just before it closes, Meredith leans back in. “Very good to see you back safe, sir,” she says, voice still a little tight and wavering.

“Hm? Well, someone’s got to be here,” Lord Valerid says, not looking up.

Meredith closes the door. Once it latches, she immediately deflates with a sigh. Leah stares up at her with a huge grin until she finally notices. “What?” Meredith asks, straightening and fixing her armour.

“Personal stuff?” Leah asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I will punch you,” Meredith says nervously, and Leah starts walking back to her rooms, holding back laugher.

“No seriously; what’s the story? You went a little feral when Lady Valerid went down.”

Meredith catches up to her and walks beside her in silence for a while. “When I was a teenager, my parents were invited to a formal function. The naming of the King’s latest child, so…fourteen years ago? I was the only of their children mature enough to attend and not make a fool of themselves.” She smiles fondly at the memories. “I got to wear this long gown, such dark blue, with little silver stars along the hem. I felt like a spirit of the night sky.

“When we got there, I was one of the youngest people present. Everyone was talking politics, and if I tried to join in, they’d dismiss me as just a child, or just a girl. And I knew that I was impressive, I knew that I was interesting, I just had no opportunity to show anyone there. You can’t go swinging a sword in the King’s ballroom.

“My mother kept introducing me to eligible sons of various households, anywhere from twelve to thirty years old. She wanted me to be an adventurer, oh sure, but she also wanted me to have my retirement ready.” Meredith scoffs. “I felt like a horse at auction. ‘Pose here,’ ‘hold this,’ ‘straighten your neck more,’ ‘twirl your skirts.’”

They arrive outside Leah’s rooms, and Leah gestures for Meredith to follow her in and continue the story. “Was the whole night like that?”

Meredith nods. “Most of it. So I ran away, into the castle halls. I found a younger woman, maybe mid-twenties – I guess about your age now. She had this little baby that she was breastfeeding. I sat with her and talked with her, and we didn’t exchange titles or genealogies or any of that nonsense. She was just so…nice.”

“Lilia?” Leah prompts, and Meredith looks at her in surprise.

“Well, you know where the story is going. Yes, it was her. And we talked for almost half an hour, drinking alcohol-free fruit punch and talking about girl problems.” Meredith leans against the wall by the window, smiling. “When my parents finally found me and were going to be mad at me for running away, she said that she’d requested my presence, to keep her company while her husband was away. My parents were proud I’d made such a connection with a Baroness, and I didn’t get in trouble. I was just so shocked that she was a Baroness…”

Leah reaches out and takes her hand. “It sounds exactly like her, from what little I know. Anytime she spoke to me she was such a positive light, so supportive. Even during the escape…” Leah sighs. “I hate myself that I couldn’t get her away. If we’d gone a little further north, or we’d chosen the east bank, or we’d avoided the north tip of the island altogether…”

“Eschen said – he came over one time, to discuss terms – ”

“I know,” Leah says.

Meredith gives her a searching look then continues. “I know he’s not the sort of person whose praise you should care about, but he said you were crafty. You apparently tried to turn yourself in, to buy time for her and for the fisherman who rowed you there to escape?”

Leah nods. “I hadn’t yet learnt how to pick my battles.”

Meredith snickers. “Anyway. She really was someone special. I doubt the Baroness even remembered that night, but I’ve always remembered her, and the Baron.”

“The Baron?” Leah prompts. “We hadn’t gotten to that part, yet.”

Meredith blushes, sliding down the wall and sitting on the windowsill. “My parents went right back to trying to match me with someone. I didn’t care about that sort of stuff, at that age – sixteen is old enough to understand sex, but not to understand marriage. I wanted to go adventuring, not raise kids and…and knit.”

Leah snorts but gestures for her to continue.

“The night went on, and when it came time for the dancing…the Baroness saw that I was being forced to dance with any unattached man at the ball, and she took pity on me.” Meredith’s eyes water, and she tries to hide it unsuccessfully. “She handed baby Samson over to her husband and swept in to rescue me.”

“Oh my god this is great,” Leah says, sitting on the bed. “No, no, continue.”

Meredith takes a deep breath and stands, smoothing out the imaginary skirt of a long ball gown. The gesture is comical from someone wearing a dust-covered gambeson, but somehow she manages to pull it off with grace. “There I was, sixteen and overwhelmed by attention, my parents trying to get me the best match they could. My feet were aching from being stepped on. And then the Baroness of Valerin – tall, in bright sky blue and white, looking like a summer’s day – walks up and asks me for a dance.” She smiles and curtsies, then begins dancing an unfamiliar six-over-four. “Three dances in a row. We turned it into a joke; she made a show of stealing me away, explaining that I needed a chaperone, that the other candidates were being too pushy and that I deserved a rest. She actually ended up teaching me the steps to the Welleslassi folk round, you know, the one that – ” She starts dancing some sort of bouncy reel-like dance, then shakes her head at herself. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t know. Gods, it’s an exhausting dance. At the end of it I was swaying on my feet, and she took me to the balcony to rest – and the Baron made room for me, and kept me company while we rested. When they stood to dance, they left the baby in my care…” The tears building in her eyes finally crest and run down her face, and she brushes them away imperiously. “I’d rocked that baby to sleep, and then I had to stand guard over his funeral.”

She sits back down on the windowsill. “And, again, I doubt either of them remembered it. I was just some shy teenager at my first event, barely noble. My parents were conflicted about the whole thing; sure I’d just been singled out by a Baron and his wife, and all eyes were on me as an eligible young Dame, but I’d also wasted three perfectly good dances on a woman.”

“Meredith, not trying to ruin the mood, but this might have something to do with why you were just pressuring me so much into saying yes to Edvellu.”

Meredith laughs. “Oh I know it does, believe me.”

Leah joins the laughter. “Did anything every come of it?”

Meredith blushes a deep pink. “Of dancing with the Baroness?”

“Pfft, no, of your parents’ matchmaking. Do you have a retirement-plan-slash-husband, somewhere in Volst?”

Meredith cackles. “If I did I’d be calling him that. But no.”

“No takers from that night of starry romance?”

“No-one willing to wait for me to finish my adventuring career. And it’s getting a little late, now.” Meredith’s smile falters.

“Late? The fuck are you talking about, you’re only thirty?”

Meredith’s lips twitch in a grimace. “Thirty is late to be meeting someone.”

“Well, tell you what,” Leah says, getting up and fluffing Meredith’s hair. “Why don’t you deliver my rejection to Edvellu, and then casually present yourself as an alternative? Catch him on the rebound.”

Meredith slaps her away with a giggle. “Don’t you dare saddle me with a Bairish caravan-lord.”

“Oho! Whatever happened to ‘Master’ Edvellu, who’s ‘nearly a Duke?’”

“Pfft.” She shrugs. “It’s different for you; you’re at ease with all this magic stuff. And you actually liked the taste of black tea, last I checked.”

“Wait, black tea?” Leah grabs Meredith’s arms. “Bair has black tea? Like real tea, the caffeinated stuff, the bitter stuff, not just herbal?”

Meredith raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Yeah?”

Leah snarls. “Agh, don’t tempt me like this, universe! I’ve been over a month without my boba!”

“Are you considering switching to men for tea?”

Leah moans. “No…”

Meredith collapses into laughter, then pulls Leah into a hug. “Oh Gods, Leah,” she says, catching her breath. “I’m gonna miss you when you’re gone. Whoever you are in there, never change.”

Leah freezes for a moment, then returns the hug warmly.