My grasp on Shira’s signing expanded by leaps and bounds when I focused the entirety of my attention on it. Over the course of a long life, I had learned many languages and used my body in many ways. Following quick movements of her hands, the posture of her body, the curving of her lips as she shaped the words soundlessly, all these things were relatively simple. Any complicated concept could be broken down and Vex was quick to whisper in my ear when I could not understand. I spent many nights sitting in front of a mirror, motioning with my hands and letting Melody guide me if I fumbled.

The challenge and novelty of it kept me preoccupied, shut away inside the Winter Palace instead of engaging in the petty squabbles that were so common in Sanctum’s political arena. They were so busy clawing at each other’s eyes that it took them time to realize the absence of my cold disapproval and cutting words.

They were a world away from my solar, however. Currently the dinner table stood stripped of its tablecloth, occupied by bandages and a large basin of freshly boiled water. The cloying, earthy smell of the healing ointments Haven favored filled the air and I sat patiently as Haven stitched up the wound on my bicep, fortunately shallow enough that it had done no damage to tendon or ligament, nor really much of the muscle. I was familiar enough with Vex’s claws to know how to slip the worst of them.

Shira watched us from across the table, brow furrowed. Something about Haven’s relentless gentleness and good manners seemed to unnerve her more than Vex’s cruelties. I felt another pass of the needle through my flesh and poured myself a cup of tea with my other hand, careful to keep my left arm perfectly still for Haven’s work.

He isn’t like the others, Shira signed finally, apparently unable to restrain her curiosity. She was out of a dress at the moment, wearing the gray gambeson with a red sash of one of my trainee guards. Melody and I had agreed that it was for the best to camouflage her, to raise fewer questions since she was not really one of the servants.

“True enough, though you say that as if all undead are the same,” I said as I lifted the cup to my lips. “Not all wights are like Vex. Nor are they all like Haven. Individuality does not end with life.”

My response only frustrated her further. The stories of undead say otherwise, that they know only hate and hunger.

I sipped and then returned the cup to its place. “Undead like Vex tend to make more of an impression. They seek it out. There are plenty within Sanctum who would much rather concern themselves with their own affairs than terrorize mortals.”

“It would be impolite,” Haven said absently, utterly focused as he knotted the last stitch. He had already cleaned out the wound with spirits and the willowbark tea would ease the pain. It was important to keep such things clean and well-tended, something Haven was always single mindedly attentive to. He focused on taking care of me the way Vex focused on torturing mortals.

A faint smile touched Shira’s lips at Haven’s response, probably because it was so very in keeping with his appearance of propriety and manners. How many kinds of undead are there?

“Many. Some naturally occurring, others created.” I swirled the tea in my cup thoughtfully, studying it as if reading the leaves at the bottom like some fortune-teller. “The lesser undead are prolific in the Eternal Kingdom, each variety lending its use to those above. But where a necromancer operating in your lands would likely only be able to sway the most feeble ghouls, those who rule here can command the loyalty of far more dangerous things.”

If I am going to be here long, it would make sense for me to know more about them.

I nodded slightly as I watched her fingers dance. It was a reasonable request. “The most common form of undead are ghouls: little more than rotting corpses given animation, enough to move around, devour, and attack. Ghasts are more coordinated, using a low cunning and pack tactics. Both deteriorate over time away from the one who raised them. Wights on the other hand, are much more independent. They are as intelligent as a human on their own, and a wise necromancer would not part them from that intelligence. They are, like all undead, unable to experience emotion.”

Shira’s brow furrowed as her fingers shaped her next comment. Vampires seem able.

The comment surprised me, more because it was the first time Shira had even come close to referencing her torment at Varys’s hand than anything else. I considered my response carefully before giving it. “Vampires preserve far more of themselves than lesser undead, but make no mistake: what they show is a shadow, a twisted reflection of an actual emotion, a parody. They fly into rages over ego and vanity because that is what they did in life, but all they truly feel down in their core is lust for blood and power. Crocodile tears.”

“Detestable creatures,” Haven muttered as he finished bandaging my arm.

I smiled at him. “You say so because you have standards.”

An echo of my smile appeared on Shira’s face, but vanished after a split second when she realized it was shared. Are there other greater undead besides vampires?

“Of course. The more sophisticated form of your basic haunt, a spectral undead, are the shades. They spend little time outside of Sanctum. Intelligent, and particularly dangerous because they can possess the dead and living alike. There are also revenants, undead created to serve a singular purpose, creatures of dark magic who cannot be destroyed except by completing their task. Then there are death knights. They have no seat on the council, but they fill a similar function to the chivalry of Rusa: lesser nobles with significant skill in battle who serve as intermediate commanders. You will not see them outside their armor.”

Shira absorbed that thoughtfully before asking her next question. I expected an inquiry into the King in Black and lichdom, but she surprised me. Which are you?

“I am not undead.” I gestured to the wound on my arm. “Cut me and I bleed just as you do.”

The stories of the Withered Rose go back centuries. Are you saying that the Beloved of the King in Black is not the same woman?

We were in dangerous territory. I had not forgotten that she was fundamentally still an enemy. “Have you paid no attention to your own people’s prophecies?” My voice was particularly dry and contemptuous, not towards Shira, but towards the fortune-telling of her people’s prophets. “So long as I endure, the King in Black will.”

Haven hesitated when he heard that tone, rinsing his tools in the boiled water laced with an antiseptic.

Shira’s brow furrowed. How does a human woman live centuries?

For a moment, some yearning to tell someone how the years weighed on me flared in my chest. I crushed it effortlessly, choosing a much simpler answer. “Not easily.”

I looked at the wight as he resumed his work cleaning up the mess we’d made. A few droplets of blood had hit the table, but hardly anything. I took a leftover piece of bandage and dipped it in the water Haven was using before wiping away the small clotted bits. Then I put a hand on the wight’s shoulder.

He stopped his cleaning, turning to face me. “My lady?”

“Thank you.” It was simply said, but heartfelt. “You take such good care of me.”

“Of course, my lady.” He bowed his head and collected everything together. “Do you require anything else?”

“For the moment, I am fine.”

Shira watched our interaction with a sort of fascination. She didn’t sign again until Haven had departed, leaving us alone in the solar. It is strange.

I arched an eyebrow. “What is?”

She hesitated a long moment, clearly weighing her answer. It came as an uncertain, almost trembling flicking of her fingers. To see the Butcher of Stonepoint care so much about anyone.

I sighed, looking down at the bandage. The perfectly wrapped, methodical symbol of Haven’s love-without-love reminded me that I could still feel something besides anger and bitterness. “Seldom do stories and the people they are about match.” I eased myself up from the chair, admittedly sore from my bout with Vex. Her new wrestling techniques were much harder to combat than the style I had become accustomed to from her. An excellent challenge, but one that left me with more than my fair share of bruises.

Conflict raged in Shira’s eyes. I see what Melody said, she finally signed. You have many faces.

“But only one heart.” The scurrying of feet drew me away from their conversation. There was the young man who had broken my tea kettle, looking very much in a panic. I reached for Woe. Using the blade would tear open Haven’s careful stitches, and I was weaker than usual, but that was a problem I could easily overcome. “What is the meaning of this interruption?”

“Lord Varys is here. He has demanded entry, my lady,” the young man said, falling into a bow so deep that he almost tumbled over.

A dry amusement tugged at the corners of my mouth even as a shudder of fear ran through Shira’s still form. “Has he now?” I said. “What business brings him here?”

“He refused to say. The Sashes have barred him entry, but he and his entourage look like a war party.”

I looked at the young man, trembling in his fear. Obviously he was no local. “Fetch Vex and La’an. Tell them to have a contingent of Sashes waiting in the wings of the main hall.” Command came to me effortlessly after all these years. As much as I despised Varys and had no interest in feeding his little temper tantrum, he was probably here because Rhandiir had sent him.

The young man scurried off to do as I had asked. The Winter Palace had no throne room for keeping court, as I did most of my business either in my study or here in the solar, but the main hall was grand enough to receive a guest and about as far into the palace as I intended to let him get.

What should I do? Shira’s fingers trembled with fear.

“This will be an important lesson for you,” I said firmly. “We must all come face to face with the things we fear.”

She shook her head emphatically. I’m not ready!

Now my voice and eyes turned cold. “I am not interested in delaying or hearing excuses. When I give an order, I expect it to be heeded. Take one of the light steel trainers and put it in a regular sheath. Carry it with you.”

You won’t even give me a real sword?

“If combat starts, you will retreat,” I said flatly. “I can handle Varys and his spawn. I do not expect you to fight, but the appearance of threat will likely be enough.”

Without waiting for an answer, I strode towards the main hall. The training room was on the way, allowing Shira to duck in and grab one of the lightweight metal training swords, as dull as the wood. She slid it into a spare scabbard and then belted it on, knotting the belt as she’d seen La’an do many times. If she could master her fear, her disguise would work.

Varys was waiting for us, accompanied by three spawn that looked more like street thugs than knights. His long white hair hung loose, cascading across the gilded and endlessly engraved pauldrons of his plate armor. He was not alone: either the boy had run particularly quickly or Vex had gotten wind of the stink of vampire.

“I am not interested in you, wight. Where is your mistress?” Varys’s fangs were bared in a contemptuous sneer.

My second crossed her arms, her expression some combination of bored and unimpressed. “Attending to matters more important than you. I think the garden had a few aphids that needed to be squished.”

I held up a hand, motioning for Shira to stop. We were still in the side hall leading from the solar, but had an excellent view of what was happening. I felt my fondness for Vex so intensely in that moment.

Varys stepped into Vex’s space, clearly trying to physically intimidate her. “Tell me where Frostborn is.”

The wight laughed, exposing her needle-like teeth. “You know, Lord Varys, you aren’t the only one with fangs,” she said, black eyes narrowing even as she spoke with a false sweetness that grated on him more. “Do you really think I’m going to fear yours? Get out of my face or I’ll start pulling out those pearly whites. A vampire tooth necklace would be a fine gift for my lady.”

Shira tapped my shoulder. I saw a new respect for Vex in her eyes and the spark of resistance that stiffened her spine. Should we intervene?

I stepped out into the hall just as Varys’s hand twitched towards his sword. He had vampire speed, but Vex had honed her reflexes well. She caught his hand, twisting it artfully until he howled in pain, just short of breaking the joints. There were certain techniques that the wight was much better at than I and locks were certainly one of them. She could get someone by a finger and break a whole arm.

“You abuse my lady’s hospitality, Varys,” Vex said, her own sneer forming as she watched him try to escape the joint lock. The moment he tried to move his arm out of it, she switched positions with lightning speed, catching him in another. “I think perhaps a lesson is in order.”

“Vex, release him,” I ordered as I approached at a casual saunter. The spawn shrank back instinctively, the hands on their own swords suddenly falling to their sides. “Lord Varys, I find your manners somewhat lacking.”

“I came with an important message. Your thrall was an obstacle,” the vampire lord spat, trying to regain his dignity as my second released him. If glares could kill, Vex would have been in the deepest pit of hell.

I crossed my arms casually, ignoring the twinge in my arm as the muscle there flexed. “Deliver your message, then.”

He looked past me, glancing at Shira for a moment. Just as I anticipated, there was no recognition on his face. “An assassin gravely wounded Luka. Poison burns in his veins even as we speak. His Majesty would like this remedied and the person responsible brought to him.” Varys’s indifference to Luka’s plight hung heavy on every word.

Normally, I would have rebuked him for pawning off the task that the King in Black had clearly assigned to him. No doubt he saw rat-catching as beneath his dignity. I, however, knew an opportunity when I saw one. “I am not in the habit of refusing His Majesty. Are there any leads?”

“Before the delirium set in, Luka said it was a human. Other than that, nothing.”

I looked over at Vex. “Send Haven and Anstydir over to Luka to attend to his poisoning and learn what they can of its nature. I will see to the rest.”

She bowed courteously. “At once, my lady.”

Varys smiled, baring his fangs. “I am pleased you are so accommodating, Lady Frostborn.”

“Your business here is concluded.” I spoke as if he had not said a word, cold and indifferent. “You will leave now.”

He left without a bow or nod of respect. I paid no attention, my thoughts already churning. For someone to be able to poison a creature as careful as Luka…well, they knew their craft better than most. They were either already running for the border or lingering in Sanctum for news of the spymaster’s death, ready to attempt again.

I turned to face Shira. “I think it’s time we paid Luka a visit.”