I woke up to the sound of voices. Before I fully regained consciousness, I heard a low murmur. It must've been Anne and the rest of the girls. I was so sure, but when I opened my eyes, I realized that I was nowhere near the palace.

I was lying on the floor of a small tent. A thin blanket covered half of my body, but I was still shivering. My mouth felt dry, and I wondered how long I'd been asleep. I still wore the lacy, olive green dress from the night of the ball, only now it stuck uncomfortably to my skin and was muddied and torn.

I raised my hand to my face, staring at the fresh cuts lining my fingers and palms that were already turning into scars. It didn't feel like my hand. My nails had broken off. Dirt streaked down my arms. I patted my cheeks and ran my hands through my hair, wishing for a mirror. I needed reassurance that my features were still the same that my bright eyes and silver hair would glare back at me through the reflection.

My vision blurred, and I realized that I was shaking. My body violently trembled. Folding my legs into my chest, I wrapped my arms around them and thrust my head between my knees. Deep breaths. I tried to calm myself, but I couldn't. I couldn't stop myself from shaking. Kidnapped. I'd been kidnapped. And it was my fault. It was all my fault. If only I had never strayed from the ball. If only I had never sought to flee. I squeezed my eyes shut, but I couldn't close my eyes from the truth. It was all my fault, and now I was paying the price.

In one swift movement, the flap to the tent parted and two heads peeked through. Scooting backwards, I raised my head and blinked away the tears.

His hair was all gone. It was almost as jarring as seeing the scrapes on my body. His head was now closely-shaven, but his eyes remained the same. Steady and impassive. And he wore clothes similar to the ones he donned at the palace. Baggy pants were tucked into fur-lined boots. A heavy jacket draped over his shoulders, and leather gloves masked his hands.

"Nathaniel, wha—"

"Gini ka m ga eji ya mee?" I turned with a jolt to see the girl at his side. She wore loose-fitting trousers like Nathaniel's, but with a longer coat that wrapped around her body. Her thick, black hair was confined into six flat braids that tickled her shoulders, and her brown skin was several shades lighter than mine. A silver gun glinted as it hung from her holster.

I inched backward until I banged into the edge of the tent.

I returned my eyes to Nathaniel, not sure what I was searching for. We regarded each other for a second, but then he broke the stare. Turning to the girl, he spoke something in the language I didn't understand. She answered him after a moment of silence, and then dropped the flap of the tent.

"Wait!" I lurched after them and moved my hands to reopen the flap, but it wouldn't budge. They must have tied it down.

As my eyes readjusted to the darkness, I traced the long scar on my forearm that Cookie had made from her sharp blade.

She had entered my life just as Flora left. A memory came of her settling me inside her kitchen for the first time. My feet swung in the air as I sat in a chair too big, but I didn't complain. I was transfixed by her movements as she diced the onions into small slivers. I'd never seen anything like it.

"Flora's going to be gone for a long time, Celeste, but that's alright because I'll take care of you." She paused to flick my hair away from my eyes. I loved her starting then. No one ever touched my hair. I think it scared them to see white hair on such a young child. But Cookie did. Cookie had done so much for me. All she had ever wanted in return was for me to stay boring and safe.

If only I had listened.

I must have fallen asleep because a gentle hand was prodding me awake. My eyes snapped open and found a girl poking her head out from the parted flap. Her face was round like the moon, and she had deep dimples that flashed as she spoke.

"Come," she said.

Scrambling to my feet, I darted back toward the corner of the tent. My legs ached, and they almost buckled from the pain. I held my hands up, as if to ward her off.

"Who are you? Where am I?" My voice came out as a dry croak.

She hesitated before saying, "My name is Anuli. I'll escort you to a place where you can bathe, change clothes, brush your teeth, and eat."

My stomach rumbled, but I made no move to step out from the tent and into the light.

Anuli eyed me solemnly as she said, "I'm under orders to guide you." She touched the holster of her gun with an ease that surprised me considering her youthful appearance. "By any means necessary."

Slowly, I inched forward until I reached the entrance of the tent. She held the flap open for me. Ducking my head, I stepped outside.

Under the grey sky was an expanse of dead grass and dirt patches. As I followed my guide, I felt the cold touching the bottom of my feet and seep into my skin, almost as if it were a part of me. Looking down, I realized that my shoes were gone, and it was my bare feet sticking out from the ratty ends of my gown.

My satin heels must have fallen off. Or maybe Nathaniel chucked them far away not long after I hit my head. My father might possess them now. As I followed this stranger, Father could be searching for me...if he cared enough to try.

I almost stumbled at the thought, but I forced myself to ask the question. Was my father behind my kidnapping? No, it couldn't be. He had gotten rid of Flora and Cookie...why not me? No. I was more forceful in my rejection of the theory. He wouldn't have. He would never jeopardize my match to Kassel Elijah Bauer of West Pacifica; it's too important to him.

Anuli led me to a dense forest a few yards east of the tent. The sparse grassland had given way to lush foliage and vibrant evergreens. I heard the steady stream of water before sighting a small pool, marking the edge of the forest and the beginning of prosperity.

On a stumpy log laid folded clothes, along with a washcloth, brush, toothpaste, and a bucket of water.

"The water here is cold, so we heated and sterilized it with fire," she explained.

I turned to her. "Where is here?"

She pointed to the ground, ignoring me. A bowl of rice topped with red stew stood in the grass. "I hope you like rice. We don't have much else."

She began to walk away, but I called after her.

"Where are you going?"

As she maneuvered around me, Anuli said, "You'll be given thirty minutes. Please do not try to run away." Motioning her gun, she continued, "I don't want to hurt you."

The thought of leaving crossed my mind. Here in the forest, alone with just my thoughts, might be my only opportunity to flee. But where would I go and how would I get there? I was hungry and dirty. I need to clean myself and to eat. And in the deepest corner of my soul, I admitted to myself that I was too weak and cowardly to venture away by myself. Not now, at least, when I still trembled with shock.

Scampering toward the water bucket, I quickly cleansed myself, praying that I wouldn't regret my decision to stay. 

I was buttoning the small buttons of the coat I had found draped over the log when I heard footsteps. I jumped to my feet, expecting to see Anuli. It wasn't her. The girl with the braided hair stalked toward me with Nathaniel lagging close behind. A smooth, silver pistol bumped against her side. It was held up by the belt tied around her waist.

"You don't like my gun." I didn't realize I'd been staring until she spoke.

"I don't like violence."

She raised an eyebrow at Nathaniel. "You're sure this is Maximilian Navarie's daughter?" I didn't know what to say to that, so I stayed silent and watched as she took a seat on the rock not too far from me. Nathaniel took a protective stance at her shoulder.

"My name is Kambili, and you are in my camp. At the palace, you stumbled upon Nathaniel at a very inopportune time. Unfortunately, since you witnessed what you did, Nathaniel had no choice but to—for lack of a better word—take you. Now you are here, under my custody, and we have to figure out what to do from here. I'm hoping we can have a conversation."

I nodded at her gun, scooting as far away as I could. "Are you going to kill me after this interrogation?" My voice was a shaky whisper. Unlike Anuli, she looked as though she knew exactly how to use it.

"I said conversation, not interrogation." She gave me a hard smile. "And a little fact about me: I don't waste food on people I'm meaning to kill. You were well fed, yes?" She waited until I nodded. "Then, you are safe."

Kambili snapped her fingers, and Nathaniel brought a small book out from the pocket of his jacket. It was my journal. "Now, I want you to tell me what this is. Remember," she said, "I want you to live—mostly because I already fed you—but if you lie to me..." She patted the gun on her side. "Do you understand this situation?" I nodded yes of my own accord. "Good," she said. "Now, tell me about this book."

"It's a journal," I admitted. "I bought it from someone I know." She sent me a look that told me she expected a name. "His name is Jack. I don't know his last name."

Nathaniel leaned closer to say, "Jack is a low-level smuggler quickly rising up the ranks. He operates in the Shallows, the bordering areas of Celestia."

Kambili processed this. "How does the daughter of the Citizen Principia find herself acquainted with a smuggler?"

"I met him a little more than a year ago, and we came to an agreement." I shrugged a little. "When he sees something interesting that he thinks I'll like, he sells it to me. Two weeks ago, he gave me the journal." I lowered my eyes, staring at the dry ground as I gathered my courage together to say, "Can I ask you a question?"

Kambili seemed taken aback, but she waved her hand airily, motioning for me to continue.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Sixteen hours," Nathaniel answered.

"And where is this camp?"

Kambili intervened. "Enough questions. I want to know how much you paid for this journal."

I winced as I remembered. "10,000 citz." As he held the journal in the air, the burgundy binding was a glaring red sign of my ignorance and foolishness.

"What about the journal made you spend 10,000 citz?"

The excerpt. But I didn't say that. It felt too personal to reveal to a stranger, even if she did have a gun. "When Jack showed me the journal, I was"—entranced—"interested. I bought it on a whim." And that whim has ruined my life.

"Whose journal is it? What's inside?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I don't have the key. I've never even opened it."

Her hand dove into her pocket, and she unearthed a gold key. It was the same key that I found on my father's desk, away from the rest of his collection. I'd forgotten about it...until now.

Taking the journal in hand, she slotted the key in the lock and twisted her hand. A click sounded. My heart thudded. The journal opened. I leaned forward, my body wound tight. Holding my breath, I waited for her to turn the front cover. Against all odds, the key had been found. Somehow, the journal unlocked. Her hand turned the page, and my shoulders dropped.

Blank. It was blank. I watched her leaf through the empty, white sheets.

She stared at me silently. She was motionless as she held herself on the rock. Even in her anger, she kept that stillness. "Congratulations, Filia Principia." My title rolled off her tongue as though it were an insult, instead of an honor. "You wasted 10,000 citz on an empty journal." She pitched the journal to the ground. "Anuli, Jioke," she called out. "Biko nu, dupu nu ya."

I felt hands clamp around my arms, and I was taken back to the tent.

*****

TRANSLATIONS: 

Gini ka m ga eji ya mee - What am I supposed to do with her? 

Biko nu, dupu nu ya - Please, take her away.