The skies darkened with intent of rain, bringing with it the screams and protests. A spark had ignited the fire. But Avery heard none of it in the forest behind the palace, accompanied by the crown prince. She stretched out her hand, trying to catch the falling drops. Her betrothed walked alongside her; encouraging her for the fight ahead. The last duel. Her examination.

It was to be her debut that night, and that meant her evaluation was to be today. Avery had been preparing for this duel for the last seven years, for the moment when she would finally be deemed worthy of the army. To be an officer. As a Duke's heir, and the future Queen, Avery had always known she would never be a sentry or knight in the true sense, but that hadn't stopped her from choosing to serve her nation as an officer while her peers chose to be socialites and courtiers. Her only companion had been her arch nemesis, making her pursuit lonely. Today, she would battle her nemesis, and prove that she deserved the win. Seven years later, it was time for her choice to come to fruition.

Avery glanced at the crown prince by her side, only to catch him looking at her. His face warmed when his eyes met hers, and he smiled, reaching out to tuck a bit of stray hair behind her ears.

"You're going to kill it out there. I have faith in you," he said, his eyes sincere and true.

"Thank you," Avery replied, grabbing the hand on her cheek, and squeezing it. She turned to face the edge of the forest, where a crowd had gathered near the waterfall to watch the duel.

Her duel.

The wind whipped her clothes, making her loose tunic balloon around her as she wrapped strips of leather around her wrists and ankles so that the ballooning sleeves wouldn't get into the way. She fingered the sword hanging at her waist, her nerves getting ready for the fight. She checked her boots, next. Once she was sure everything was ready, Avery glanced at Tristan, who gave her an encouraging smile, before stepping out into the crowd. The crowd parted easily for the crown prince and the lady, and Avery walked straight to the circle that had been created for duels. Her opponent waited for her, her stance relaxed, ready. Her feet were spread apart, her arms loose with one hand on the hilt of her sword as her eyes followed Avery's every move.

Tristan squeezed their intertwined arms once more, and Avery returned the gesture before letting go and entering the ring.

The chattering audience stilled, silence filling the clearing, but for the slight patter of raindrops falling into the lake behind them. Avery inhaled the smell of wet mud that came with the rain, placing her feet apart and unsheathing her sword. Her empty fist was clenched, her nails digging into her skin and grounding her in the moment. She waited for the examiner to signal the start of the fight, but it never came.

Instead, sounds of splashing water and mud, and breaking twigs reached her ears. Both Avery and her opponent turned to find the interruption, their eyes landing on a messenger. The boy couldn't have seen more than thirteen seasons, with his short build and youthful eyes that were now filled with urgency. His tunic was drenched, a mass of black hair sticking to his forehead. In his hands, he clutched a soggy scroll, the royal seal clearly visible. Avery's eyes met Tristan's, and she saw the realization dawn in them.

Something must've happened. Something big.

Tristan gave her a nod, and both of them bolted forward in an attempt to reach the boy as soon as possible. The messenger panted as he reached them, shoving the missive into Tristan's hands. The crown prince opened the scroll, his eyes darting over the words.

"It's a summons," he muttered. Then, loud enough for Avery to hear, he said, "We must hurry. My father requires our presence urgently."

"What is it about?"

"It says nothing, except to join him in the study. I think it's the Council."

Avery sucked in a breath, nodding in agreement. Her examination would have to wait. By the looks of it, this was something really important. They had to get to Regillius immediately.

Avery followed her betrothed through the undergrowth and the depths of the forest, their gait hurried. They followed the green flags to the palace's back and the sentries let them in instantly. It did not take much longer to reach the King's study after that. They entered to a vast room, only to find their parents and the remaining Ducals at the largest table, their heads bent over a map of Regina.

"Avery, Tristan," the King addressed them, "Come. I'll send for a servant to get your robes. Please dry yourselves with the sigil and join us at the earliest."

Avery nodded, following Tristan to the wind-chamber at the edge of the room. It chimed as she stepped in, and she pressed one of the twelve pressure plates beneath her foot. Wind rushed into the chamber, drying her off and carrying the droplets of water that were in her clothes and hair. A second later, that humidity was gone, transported to the gardens to water the plants. Avery emerged from the chamber at the same time as Tristan beside her, and a servant was standing ready with their clothes. Avery returned to the chamber and took off her tunic, slipping the simple gown over her slip. This was not the time to lace her corset or get her petticoats.

Tristan was already at the table by the time she was done, and Avery hurried to join her parents.

"They're at the gates," the king said, repeating something he must already have told the others for her sake.

"Who?" Avery asked.

"The people. They're protesting for me to step down and hand over the throne to the Veronski line."

"Who's that?" Tristan questioned.

The King sighed. "Someone familiar."

"Follow me," The King said, opening a tunnel at the back of the room, "I'll explain. We must gauge the damage first."

The doors led to a staircase as it faded off into the dark, only the first few stairs visible in the study's light. The stairs led below the central wing, to the intelligence wing of the palace at Regillius, hidden and buried underneath the wings. Avery had been here very few times, and the fact had they were being led here meant that this was a serious problem.

Tensions had been escalating in Regina for years, after the King's parents had made the decision to open Regina for trade and began diplomatic ties with Sicily, their enemy nation. The king, the people argued, had ruined their lives and businesses, and many people had lost their jobs. Although there were decrees passed to help the people, they did not care. Corrupt courtiers had worsened the problem, and dismissing them had angered the people further. Tristan's father had decided that henceforth the King would choose multiple candidates for courtier positions, and the people in the villages had seen it as an attempt to enslave and subjugate them.

Many organizations had popped up to oppose the monarchy, and the smallest spark could set them off. The king had been walking on eggshells, trying to tread the line between the people and the other nations, attempting to appease them. But they'd reached the boiling point, and at one point everything had to break.

Now it had.

Avery followed Tristan through the dark passages below, the King leading the way ahead of him, and the Ducals behind her. The duchess Amor whispered something to the duke Ingenii behind them, and he nodded, his face turning grave. They entered a vast room, empty but for a man standing at the center.

"Use your sight," The King instructed.

Avery dipped down to her core and pulled a bit of power to the exhausted reserve behind her eyes. It was not something she did every time, but the net's reserve had been exhausted and Avery needed to replenish it before being able to use her Sight It had been a while since she had used her Sight; usually she didn't need to see everyone's auras or the signatures every Talented left behind when touching things.

Her eyes opened to a brighter world, every color sharper than before. The previously empty hall was full of colors and signatures, all of them unfamiliar. Her eyes were drawn to the man in the center of the hall, noting his greenish-blue color for the talents of mind-manipulation. She focused on him, fascinated by the glowing wisps that seemed to come out of his brain every once in a while. The wisps floated to the curtains on the wall; which had been turned into screens, fading into the cloth. The cloth blossomed, colors springing onto it from the spot where the wisps touched it. These colors brightened, transformed, moving until the whole of the cloth was covered with some scene; yet they didn't move at all. The transformation was rapid, but with her enhanced sight, Avery could clearly make out all of it, admiring the beauty of the swift process.

'He's a collector,' she realized, 'a collector of memories.'

The curtains had to be Sigils, infused with reading power, reading, and displaying the wisps of memories the collector sent across. Fascinated, Avery observed the process, noticing that the whole room's walls were covered with curtains, just to serve this purpose. Spellbound, Avery saw the colors swirling into a mosaic, rapidly spreading all over the curtains like vines climbing onto a tree. The hues and tints darkened in some place, lightening in others, transforming into other colors, merging with the other vines, and animating the plain cloth into a vibrant scene.

She noticed one of the curtains turning darker, hues of dark brown blooming on the white cotton. Orange flickered in the center, a crackling noise intensifying as she walked closer to it. Fire. A man sat huddled behind the flames, rubbing his palms, and pulling his cloak closer around his body. He must've been in the north; the white of snow was just visible at the mouth of the cave.

She reached out to touch the curtain, startled when a gust of wind blew out the fire. A small flame grew in a hand that appeared out of the edge of the curtain, and the owner of the hand-probably the person whose memory this was; transferred the flame to the wood. The elemental Talented sat down beside the man, engaging him in conversation.

It unnerved Avery to see the scene play out, yet not know who the elemental was. She moved on to another scene, walking around the room. One curtain showed the viewer was spying on a conversation between the Baron and Baroness of Gravita gossiping about the daughters of their neighbors. Another showed a party in a country mansion-belonging to the Courtier of Presto, Avery assumed from the décor. He was known for being eccentric, but that wasn't the most interesting part about this. The center of the dance floor showed a couple-the Marchioness of Lecther dancing with the Earl of Rutherford, clearly intimate-even though the both of them were married. Yet another memory entranced her in the conversation between two lovers; a groom and the daughter of a minor Earl.

Avery knew these were scandalous, but they weren't what was meant to be in this room. These scenes were trivial, the daily problems and gossips of any court in the Realm. These weren't the scenes that the intelligence division cared about.

"We get a lot of such memories."

Avery was startled when the collector spoke. He laughed at her surprise.

"It's a part of my job-mine and my partner's; to sort out all the useless ones. Some of them are kept aside to bribe people, or keep them silent in case we ever need to. You won't believe the number of memories we have on every single person in the court. You people like being scandalous."

"Isn't that an invasion of privacy?"

"All in the name of the Realm," he replied.

Avery shrugged, joining Tristan and his father, watching a memory in a place Avery was familiar with-the gates to the Inner city. But the area wouldn't have been recognizable if she hadn't seen the wrought iron gate and the sentries guarding the ornamental doorway engraved with the Regalis crest. The circular intersection of the Outer Ring had been completely transformed.

The junction was usually deserted this time of the day, everyone would be at to work save for a few stragglers. Today, it was packed to the brim with people, people who looked like they'd come from all the corners of Regina. She could see the straight-haired people from the North with their yellow skin and dark hair-the refugees and travelers from Dao. Another group stood next to them, the dark-skinned people from the North-Western regions-a product of the cross breeding of the Daons and the tribes that inhabited the West. She could make out a few Lamanis as well; characterized by their dark olive skin and sharp features.

The eastern regions-the nobles' regions-had sent very few representatives, telling Avery that they'd chosen to side with the king-as they should. Traders and merchants had abandoned the king, choosing to side with the revolt, their fight against the monarchy.

Everyone was shouting, holding up placards and making demands. Sentries pushed the crowd back, trying to keep them from entering the Inner City; a place that had always been banned to commoners. Fear stole over Avery, its icy fingers gripping her heart and squeezing. If this was just the beginning, what more was to come?

Avery jerked to attention when the King spoke.

"See her?" he pointed to a woman in the front of the crowd. She stood straight, her posture having an arrogant tilt to it. Unlike the others, she didn't scream or jostle the crowd. She stood in the midst of the pandemonium, watching it all unperturbed, a faint smile on her face. Avery instantly identified her as the leader, by the way the few people around her stood in a protective circle, partaking in the protests yet looking at her for guidance periodically. Something about her seemed familiar, but Avery was unable to identify what it was.

"That-" the King spoke, "is Alva Veronski, the instigator of the Civil War."

___

Alva was beautiful. Her pitch-black hair stood out on her caramel skin, and her stormy eyes seemed to glow, even through the rain. Her head held high, Alva turned to speak to someone by her side, her high cheekbones further accentuating her stern aura. At another time, Avery might have admired the woman and her ability to remain calm in the havoc around her. She might have grown to idolize Alva if she'd known her, but now that opportunity was lost. Alva could've done a lot, even secured a noble house for herself with her wits and grace.

Why would someone with such a promising future stand against their homeland?

The king spoke, explaining, "A few years ago, Alva Veronski, a promising student entered the Academy of the Talented and Sentries. She was an amazing student, responsive in class, clever and a first grade Natură too. When the time came, she passed at the top of her class, surpassing even some of her teachers' scores in the Academy's notoriously difficult exam. She applied for Civil Service, receiving glowing letters of recommendation from all of the Academy's professors, and was put on standby for the Council of Protection, Research and Development of Talents. Two years later, she ascended to the council as the representative for Natură. She had everyone fooled, dancing to her tune; especially the three other men who represented Siluetă, Raţiune and Inimă. It was shaping up to be one of the best councils Regina had ever had.

"Last year, though, when the Council's revaluation was due, suddenly, the CPRDT disappeared. No trace of them, all the four heads and their subsidiary divisions."

The King sighed, walking to the transparent wall beside his desk that overlooked the courtyard. Hands behind his back, he continued, "There had been many small revolts in the fringes of the country and tiny groups here and there swaying people against us. I didn't think much of it, leaving the Courtiers and Nobles of the regions to deal with it, until the CPRDT emerged as the mastermind organization behind these seemingly random and unconnected problems. Suddenly, what felt like random revolts and petty fights turned into an army of peasants organizing a civil war."

"And why did we know none of this?"

"I couldn't risk it. There are too many variables involved."

"Not even to tell the Crown prince and his betrothed?" Avery asked, incredulous.

"We wanted to protect you, darling," Avery's mother said, walking over to her daughter. "It was mostly speculation, and the information we had wasn't much reliable."

Avery shrugged, although she didn't think that was all. There's something else they don't want us to know.

Tristan met her eye amongst the gathered, his brow rising as her thought reached her. Agreed, he responded through their connection. Their minds had always been connected through a telepathic channel-a direct result of their betrothal.

The king turned around then, breaking Avery's train of thought, and indicated for the council, plus the successors, to follow.

"We cannot let this get out beyond these walls," Avery spoke, "that would be like adding to the brewing fire. The less people already know, the better this is. At least that way, we can stop deserters bringing down morale."

The King nodded. "We shall discuss more in the study. There are too many ears here."

They followed the monarch as he led them through the tunnels once more, and into his study. Avery closed the hidden door behind her as she stepped into the room, joining the gathering at the large table. A map had already been laid out, hiding the red and gold painted ebony. A few flags were scattered over the table, gold near the capitol, in the east, and the east. Red flags dotted the northern region, their proximity alarming. The traitors had taken over almost all of the north. They almost had a stronghold at this point.

They couldn't let this grow. Anymore and it would result in huge massacres on both sides. No, this madness had to be contained, and now.

As if on cue, the King sighed. "This needs to stop."

"Yes. But how?"

"Well, for starters, we can crank down on the North. Send soldiers in. Impose curfews. Make laws stricter," said Duke Vaelis.

"That'll only make things harder! The citizens are doing this because they hate us. They'll hate us even more. We'd be fighting fire with fire," Tristan argued.

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

It was Duchess Amor who supplied a solution. "We tour."

"But-" Duke Vaelis said, only to be interrupted by Avery's mother.

"Marissa, how is a tour supposed to do anything?"

Avery nodded to her mother's question, wondering just what the duchess was thinking.

"Wait! I think that's the perfect solution!" Tristan exclaimed, "A tour is the perfect way to remind them that we're the ones who rule and remind them of all the good that has come out of our rule."

"But what reason would we give? We must tell the people something! Tours generally don't happen without any big news. The last time the Court went on a tour, it was after Queen Clarisse..." Duke Vaelis trailed off.

The moment the late queen's name was uttered, something seemed to change. Avery reached out to Tristan, gripping his hand under the table, noticing his eyes glossing and his rapid blinking as he tried to compensate for that. He squeezed her hand, his eyes meeting hers over the table.

Avery made a show of breathing, and Tristan gave her a subtle nod, inhaling.

"Maybe-maybe we can begin with an engagement?" The Duchess Amor suggested, attempting to diffuse some of the tension.

"But whose engagement would be important enough to garner a tour?" Duke Ingenii questioned.

The King gave Tristan a grave look before responding, "The Heir's."

***

AN: What do you think of the introduction to this book? Hope you enjoyed it! These lovebirds are going to go through a lot in this book, and I hope they kept you entertained!

Please leave your thoughts if you have the time, and click the star on the bottom, you make my day!

Hope to see you again,

Kira Dalvi