Lyrani's folded clothes stood on her bed in a squat pile that reminded her of cornflower pancakes. It was the only spot of order in a room scattered with sparkling dresses, elegant coats, and heeled shoes that hadn't left the cottage in months and wouldn't for a few more.

Lyrani was travelling light this time, as per her orders from Lord Dundor. She looked over what she had prepared to pack. There were just two tunics, two sets of leggings, and two pairs of socks. Her toiletries were packed into their little bag, standing beside each other like sentinels, again, only the essentials: moisturiser, sunscreen, and a waxy-smelling cream to keep the insects away that her best friend Dessie swore by.

Now, if she could just find the backpack to fit them into...

She sighed, running her hands through the silken strands of her black hair and gathering them into a ponytail.

She studied the darkness bordering her room like a frill on a dress. There was one place she hadn't looked.

Raising her hands, she parted the shadows at the edges of her bedroom. They peeled away from the walls like onion skin, and Lyrani peered behind them in a last attempt to locate her rucksack, but there was no sign of it.

She let out an exasperated breath. She had spent years mastering her rare ability to manipulate the darkness. It had hidden her from guards at the royal palace in Vlitavia and cloaked her when she hunted criminals, her murderous intent in the name of ECISI—Elvenland Council of Irylen Secret Intelligence. She had never imagined she would be defeated by a missing backpack.

Lyrani glanced out the arched window. The sun's brilliance diminished as it floated down from its peak on the cerulean backdrop of the sky. The afternoon had arrived. Soon, Lyrani's train would too, and nothing, not even an elusive rucksack, would earn her Lord Dundor's pardon if she missed it.

She returned her gaze to her room. It looked as though a hurricane had torn through it, but she would somehow have to find her backpack among the clutter, and soon.

"Lyrani Esch, where did you think you were going without this?" Dessie hurried into the room, a beaten trunk covered in elf-made leather dangling from her hand while her hibiscus petal skirt fluttered around her ankles. It was a bright orange that reminded Lyrani of the sunset she feared would fall before she could arrive at the meeting it heralded.

The trunk was big enough for a few outfits, a travel box of jewellery, and perhaps a fur coat or two. It even had a secret compartment that hid the tools of an assassin's trade from any suspicious, prying eyes, as Lyrani knew well. It was perfect, just not for this mission.

"Des, I'm not going to Vlitavia. I don't need such a big trunk." Lyrani sat at the edge of her bed with a deep sigh.

Dessie frowned, setting the trunk down at her feet with a soft thump. "I thought you were. You've been talking about nothing else for weeks."

So Lyrani had. Once, it had been the intrigue and wonder of the palace that drew her there. Now, it was the man who ruled it who she longed to see, even more than the castle built into the tree branches, stretching all the way to the stars.

She didn't blame Dessie for being confused. Sometimes her plans were too intricate to follow, too obscure to make sense, confusing her too.

"I'm going to Vlitavia for the briefing." Lyrani smoothed the tunic at the top of her pile of clothes. "As for my mission... I don't know where that's going to send me."

Lord Dundor had softened since he was reunited with the son he never knew he had, but the director still ran ECISI with the same sternness that made it the most formidable of the elven secret intelligence agencies. That meant that all details of Lyrani's missions were kept under wraps until the briefing. No exceptions.

Dessie cocked her head. "I thought your briefings are usually a few days beforehand to give you time to decide whether you accept the mission."

Lyrani nodded. Dessie was right again. That was how the introductions to her assignments were usually carried out, but this wasn't her usual type of mission.

Lyrani clasped her hands in her lap. "The thing is, Lord Dundor knows I'll accept this assignment."

"How?" Dessie raised her dark eyebrows as she abandoned the trunk on the floor and settled beside Lyrani on the bed.

Lyrani swept a loose lock of her hair behind her ear. "Because it involves Nash."

Dessie's blue eyes illuminated with knowing.

Lyrani always credited Lord Dundor's leadership with ECISI's victory when the assassins from Rosel and Keehege, the other elf states' secret intelligence services, had failed to eliminate Elvenland's King Nash over a year ago. The truth was, Lyrani would've never discovered the truth—that it was Nash's tyrannical grandmother's malicious spirit driving him to attack the other clans in the realm—if she hadn't fallen in love with him, and she wouldn't have survived long enough to free him and Elvenland from Queen Rayn's clutches if he didn't love her back.

"Apparently there's been a threat." Lyrani swallowed.

Dessie's eyes widened. "Another clan who wants revenge on Nash."

Lyrani nodded. She had tried to calm her mind, keep the most dreadful possibilities from running amok through her thoughts, but she couldn't help the way her stomach dropped.

Every few months, there was a new adversary for ECISI to face, one more vicious than the last. No amount of training or preparation could shake off Lyrani's fear that one day, she wouldn't be enough to protect Nash from the cost of the actions he had never intended to commit.

Calling him every day, hearing his voice, and seeing his grinning face hovering above the glittering blue surface of her call-crystal could only do so much to soothe her unease.

Sometimes he was a train ride away. But sometimes the distance between him and Lyrani was so great that it would take her a lifetime to cross it on foot.

Since Queen Rayn had been banished to the Spirit Realm and Nash had made his apologies and reparations to the clans who had been harmed by his actions, Lyrani had thought peace would finally settle into the realm. Instead, the cracks of the past only deepened, threatening to fracture everything she had pledged her life to protect.

Dessie folded Lyrani's slender, brown fingers into her pale hand. They had been friends for so long that Lyrani didn't need to speak her fears for Dessie to know what they were.

"Any idea who it is this time?" asked Dessie.

Lyrani shook her head. Her eyes drifted to the framed, painted fern leaves on her wall as if they had the answers her boss hadn't given her. "Lord Dundor is keeping that to himself until the meeting. Nash hasn't told me anything about it either. He said that he didn't want me to worry..."

"But you're worrying anyway."

"How can I not?" Lyrani returned her gaze to her lap, squeezing her eyes closed against the painful thoughts that took hold of her. "I'm just one elf, Des, and my boyfriend has made dozens if not hundreds of enemies—"

"Hey." Dessie pulled Lyrani into a hug. She smelt like honey and something spicy that Lyrani couldn't name. She rested a cool, comforting hand on the back of Lyrani's head. "You're not alone, okay? Everyone at ECISI is behind you all the way. And I know it doesn't mean much when you're facing the realm's worst villains, but I'm with you too."

"It means a lot, Des." Her eyes still closed, Lyrani drew a shaky breath. She pulled away, opening her eyes and inhaling slowly to clear her mind. She may not have a mission yet, but she had an objective. "I need my rucksack."

Dessie's mouth fell open in horror. "That's supposed to fit all the clothing you need for a week?"

"Perhaps longer. It depends on my mission." Lyrani fought a grin as Dessie blinked in incredulity.

Dessie looked over at the scant clothing gathered on Lyrani's bed. Fashion was her life, which was why she made clothes for a living. She never understood why Lyrani chose the least sparkly gown on the rack she showcased to her, and she certainly could never travel without a change of clothes for every mood of every day.

"I don't know how you do it." She shook her head.

Lyrani laughed. "Hey, my job is to protect Elvenland. I can't always be stylish while doing it."

"I beg to differ." Dessie sniffed, flipping her wavy, cinnamon-brown hair over her tangerine-sleeved shoulder. Her blue eyes turned narrow, thoughtful. "You know, I might just know the bag you're looking for."

Lyrani opened her mouth, but before she could confirm that her best friend had indeed stolen the backpack she had turned her room upside down searching for, Dessie disappeared out the door. She returned a few moments later with a sandy-brown, cloth rucksack in her hands.

Lyrani took it from her. The scattered, dark marks betrayed the fresh dirt ingrained in the rough-spun fabric. She opened the bag and sneezed.

She peered inside and then up at Dessie with her analytical agent's eyes. "Why is there pollen and white flower petals inside my backpack?"

Dessie clasped her hands behind her back as she had when she and Lyrani were children and got caught playing with Lady Veyali's makeup. "Tolorn and I borrowed it to collect the thousands of daisies I needed to make a wedding dress for a duchess-to-be. It was his idea!"

Lyrani rolled her eyes. "Don't blame your boyfriend, Dessie Rask. I know he'll do anything you ask of him."

As a member of ECISI's paranormal unit, Tolorn was relentless with the bothersome poltergeists and restless spirits he was called in to investigate, but he was as firm as a flower stalk when it came to Dessie. He had been ever since they met over a year ago.

Lyrani didn't have time to chastise Dessie or do anything more than hurry to the window and dust the bag out of it, sneezing as she did. She watched the narrow, white petals drift down to the earth like raindrops, hoping she had shaken out all the pollen.

Lyrani screamed and clutched the backpack to her chest as an elf popped up in front of her. It was a familiar man with gleaming, dark brown skin, tightly curled black hair, and a bright smile that rejoiced in jump scares.

"Morloy, what's the matter with you? Are you trying to kill me?" Lyrani shook her head at her friend.

"No, but Lord Dundor definitely will if you're late for another meeting. You know how he is about his son." Morloy folded his arms over his chest. The sunlight brightened his white tunic, turning it painful to look at.

He had a point. Lord Dundor was strict at the worst of times, but Lyrani had never seen him as austere as he was when it came to matters involving Nash. It was love, but she suspected it was more than that.

It was his guilt that he hadn't been there for Nash during his childhood. It was his way of protecting Nash's mother Livh because he had let her die thinking he didn't love her or their son all because of a series of unfortunate miscommunications.

It would be romantic, even heart-warming, if it didn't threaten his agents' jobs every few months.

"You're right." Lyrani hurried to her bed, her empty backpack in her hands. "I need to hurry."

"Please tell me I'm not the only one who remembered that your train is leaving in" —Morloy and Lyrani checked their watches simultaneously— "half an hour."

"I'll forgive you for nearly making me late if you help me pack," Lyrani told Dessie.

"Not a problem." The other elf jumped to her feet and joined Lyrani beside the bed. "There are only six things to pack."

A movement at the corner of Lyrani's eye caught her attention. She glanced at the window to see Morloy climbing through it.

"You do remember we have a front door, right?"

"I tried it, but no one answered." Morloy shook his head as he joined his friends at the bed. "I should've known you two were in here, bickering."

For being such a quarrelsome pair, Lyrani and Dessie completed the packing with surprising speed and coordination. Lyrani tucked the shirts and leggings into the bag while Dessie chucked the socks inside and buckled the rucksack closed.

She stared at the backpack with such pity that Lyrani had to put a hand on her shoulder.

"If it makes you feel better, taking a tiny bag of clothing on a week-long mission isn't the worst thing that has happened to me."

Dessie sighed. "No, that doesn't make me feel better."

Lyrani squeezed her hand. Dessie had been here every time Lyrani came home with bruises she wasn't legally allowed to explain, every time she woke up screaming from nightmares she didn't remember.

Still, she had remained here, talking Lyrani through everything that scared her, as hard as it was for her.

"Des, you know you can borrow my stuff anytime. Without permission." Lyrani smiled. She owed Dessie so much more than that.

Dessie gave her a smile that was feeble with fear. "Now you're not allowed to mind when I take you up on that."

"Never." Lyrani laughed, drawing Dessie into her embrace.

She had learnt to treat every goodbye as if it was her last even though she hoped it wouldn't be.

There were so many people she loved, so many she wanted to spend a long life with, laughing and rejoicing, but she had never really imagined a life for herself outside ECISI. When she spent a weekend with Nash, sometimes she could, but it wasn't long before her work flooded in again, leaving her thrashing for survival with little thought of anything else.

Morloy cleared his throat, tapping the face of his wristwatch. "I love moving farewells as much as the next elf, but we really need to leave now, Lyr. The courtesy carriage ECISI sent to take you to the train station is, after all, a courtesy."

Lyrani withdrew from Dessie, her head snapping to him. "They sent a courtesy carriage?"

Morloy nodded.

That was unusual. Lord Dundor must be serious about Lyrani getting to the station and Vlitavia on time, but that only made her worry more about what would await her when she arrived there.

"Why didn't you say so?" Dessie frowned at Morloy.

"I would've if you two gave me any space to speak." He looked between the other elves.

Lyrani and Dessie exchanged a glance. They couldn't argue with that.

"Did ECISI send you too?" asked Lyrani.

"No. I came by choice, but I'm already regretting it." A grin tugged at Morloy's mouth.

Lyrani feigned offence. "How rude!" She slung her backpack over her shoulders and turned back to bid her room farewell.

It was as it always was—cornflowers with drooping blue petals on her dressing table, untouched books lining the shelf against the wall—and it gave Lyrani hope that she would return from this mission as she always did.

"Lyrani Esch!" Morloy bellowed where he sat on the windowsill.

"Right behind you!" Lyrani clambered out of the window after Morloy.

His longer legs made him more graceful than her and kept him ahead of her until they reached the grimy white carriage waiting at the end of the garden path, as nondescript as Lyrani would expect of a vehicle in ECISI's service.

It wouldn't do for the carriages transporting secret agents across the state to be too recognisable. It would put them in more danger than it would protect them from. A moving target was no challenge to those who aimed to obstruct justice.

Lyrani settled into her peeling grey seat and closed the carriage door behind her, waving at Dessie, who was hanging out of the window and calling her farewell. Morloy climbed in after Lyrani and tapped the inside of the carriage. With that, it was on the move, rolling down Fegris Mountain and through the fields of Irylen.