"At time of peace, we should love one another.

At war, we should set our minds as the hunters."

―Toba Beta

Raina wrinkled her nose as a cloud of golden dust fell from the ceiling. She gave a little cough and waved the air with a piece of paper.

Ealy snatched it from her a moment later, hissing through her teeth.

"They're awfully loud," Ophelia said. She rocked her head against Shabina's thigh, squinting up. "Are they fighting our guards?"

Shabina shrugged. Her wives were all sprawled across the nest of pillows and clothes, most of them in casual clothing. The bedroom was long and narrow, with barred windows that allowed sunlight in slits. "She's training her apprentice, it's important."

Ealy set down her papers and scowled. "It's a waste of resources."

Shabina untangled her fingers from Ophelia's hair to sign. "I'm building trust."

"She'll never trust anyone. Especially not us."

"You don't know that," Shabina signed, "we have to accommodate her as a valuable ally."

Raina waggled her fingers in their line of sight. "You mean we have to accommodate Hadrian. He's capable and far more agreeable than the huntress. The smart thing would be to make him our ally. She will follow."

Shabina hummed and looked to Ealy. "What do you think I should do, then?"

Ealy sighed, looking back over her papers. Most of them were spy reports, from plants within the hierarchies of the major powers. None of them had eyes inside Greymark's operations. "It would be an oversight to abandon them. But we can't forget the moral disadvantage of recruiting her. The huntress has too much blood on her hands and no remorse. We should have an alliance, yes, but keeping her so close will not reflect well on you."

"Do you know how young she is? Lin was raised a witch huntress, indoctrinated and trained by Greymark. She's no more guilty than any other slave soldier."

"The Nuremburg defense?" Raina butted in. "Do you even think that applies here? I think she has a bit more agency than they do."

Shabina leaned back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. Lin was sparring only a floor above them. "Every conversation with you lot involves a debate somewhere."

"That's why you love us so much," Ophelia chirped, finally lifting her head from Shabina's leg to peck a swift kiss across Shabina's lips and swing her body over to lay on Raina's lap. Raina immediately sank her fingers into Ophelia's hair, stroking the braids Shabina had woven in. Shabina propped herself up on her elbows and cocked her head at her wives. Raina leaned down and dropped a kiss across Ophelia's brow.

"I should talk to Lin about this."

Ealy snorted. "You've been saying that for the past two weeks."

Shabina's face went hot, and she cleared her throat. "Well, I really mean to now."

Ealy nodded, unconvinced. She unfolded a letter and groaned at what she saw. Shabina waved her hand to get her attention and lifted her eyebrows in question.

Instead of answering, she handed the letter over.

Shabina pulled herself upright and hunched over the paper. Her wives went quiet. Ophelia whispered something, but Shabina didn't hear.

The letter was from one of the spies in Janus' castle. They had received multiple reports from them before, enough for Shabina to recognize the personalized code and handwriting they used.

"Uh," her mind stalled, "I'm – I have to go see –" someone. Lin? Kiara? Zeke? A thud sounded out from above, shaking loose another cloud of gold and startling Shabina into action.

She stood up, shaking dust from her skirt – not that it was ever free of the miserable stuff – and carefully stepping out of the pillow nest.

"Do you need me to go with you?" Raina called.

"No, I'm going to see Lin." Shabina's voice was steadier than she felt. She barely remembered to slip her feet into a pair of boots by the door. They felt like Ophelia's. By that she meant their beauty outweighed their function by far.

She dragged the door closed behind her, loath to allow anyone into her personal chamber. "Zeke."

She wasn't terribly surprised to see him guarding her. If guarding was the proper term. He was flat on his back, chewing on what appeared to be an overcooked strip of meat.

He lifted his head and pulled the meat from his mouth, smiling at her. He looked as though he might attempt to speak, so she lifted her hand. "Please don't. Stay here and keep – guarding... them. I have matters to attend to."

He shot off a small salute and a mumbled "yes, your majesty."

Good enough. She smiled at him and turned before he could try and draw her into a mindless chat.

The sounds of fighting would have been worrying as she climbed the stairs. Shouts, yells of pain, and the crack of swords sent shivers down her spine. Raina had once tried to train her, but she was hopeless when it came to a fight. She just couldn't react fast enough, couldn't form herself into a weapon the way others had.

Nothing like Raina gliding through gunfire. Nothing like Lin grinning at the center of an inferno, her only concern being the state of her hair.

Shabina swallowed before taking the final steps. That floor only had a few large rooms, and the one Lin had picked to train her apprentice was right over the stairs.

"Down!" Shabina almost ducked when Lin's voice rent the air like a bullet.

Hadrian dropped to the floor, sweat sticking his shirt to his body. Three guards surrounded him, two more sitting out the round with bottles of water. Shabina recognized one of the boy's partners as Cortez, the slave freed on Raina and Kiara's most recent save. He loomed over the small hunter, his shoulders twice Hadrian's width.

Still, Hadrian used his stature to devastating advantage.

He ducked and weaved under hits that Shabina feared could shatter his bones. Off to the side, Lin was laughing. Her eyes tracked Hadrian's quick motions with ease, occasionally throwing a command to her apprentice like a bone to a dog. Her smile broadened the longer Hadrian held up.

Even more so when Hadrian failed to dodge a sweeping kick from one of the guards and went flying. He yelped and hit the floor with a bang – Shabina realized that was what they'd been hearing – and Lin doubled over under the force of her laughter.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and strolled to Shabina, her eyes fixed on Hadrian even as she backed up next to Shabina. "Keep going, kid."

Hadrian pulled himself off the floor, his face calm and collected despite the innumerable falls. Shabina winced as he rocked into a perfect stance and beckoned for Cortez to attack again.

"He'd never make it as anyone's else apprentice," Lin said.

Shabina glanced over to her, surprised. "What makes you say that?"

"Look," she pointed, "he's afraid."

He didn't look afraid to Shabina. Hadrian was wholly focused on his adversaries. He stepped between attacks as though he knew they were coming and never stalled.

"He's afraid because I taught him to block those attacks but he isn't. He should have snapped everyone's arms off by now but he's taking the long way around."

"The long way around?"

"He's dodging until they get tired. He's got good stamina but he's too small to keep this up for long." Lin cocked her head. "He's doing good so far."

Shabina wasn't watching him. Her attention had long since shifted to Lin's face. She was bright and smiling, so different from the last time Shabina had seen her.

"But you didn't come here to talk about him, did you?"

"You can keep talking, if you like."

She shrugged and her mouth settled in a little frown. Too late to save the lightness. "I received a letter from our agent in King Janus' place."

Lin groaned and leaned her head all the way back. "Oh, shit. He's gone and done something stupid, hasn't he?"

"I – " she hesitated, "I'll abstain from judgement. He is dead."

Lin blinked. "What?"

Shabina's gut dropped, and she had the feeling she'd made a terrible mistake. Lin's breath came faster and her eyes blazed. She looked down to the letter still in Shabina's hand.

"Lin – " she grabbed it from Shabina and glared at the lines. "It's in code."

"Hadrian, stop."

He skidded and slipped, flailing slightly as he dropped to his knees. The guards stopped their attack, their attention shooting to Lin. She held up the letter and shook it. The air around her stilled in a bated breath. Hadrian trotted over, panting slightly.

He took the letter and scanned it.

"You can't read it, Hadrian," Shabina said.

He didn't so much as look at her.

"They didn't wait for his approval on the hit. The hunters killed him two days ago, along with half the staff. Yelena and my father split the territory," Hadrian said.

Lin hissed through her teeth and paced to the wall and back, her shoulders hunched and head low like an animal. She stuffed a knuckle into her mouth and bit down hard, the silver tattoos writhing like salted worms on her skin. Shabina swallowed, glancing to Hadrian for help. He sighed.

"Lin."

"Don't."

"Mara first," he said, "then the others."

Lin rubbed her mouth and glared at him, too. She stopped walking and exhaled. "Shabina, keep him out of trouble. I might be a while."

She turned and leapt over the railing, jumping the stairs like a cat on her way down. Shabina lurched after her, only stopped by the fact that Hadrian didn't seem concerned. He huffed out what sounded like a frustrated breath and glared at the letter. "Glad I didn't translate this verbatim."

Shabina swallowed over her dry throat. "I didn't expect..."

Hadrian waited for her to finish for a moment before filling the silence. "She had stuff riding on Janus."

"'Stuff'?"

"Stuff I should probably be worried about, too." Hadrian stretched his arms out. "She'll take care of it one way or another, that's what I'm worried about."

"Oh," she said softly, "will she be alright?"

He smiled at her and tilted his head slightly. "I try not to think about it. Don't worry about her, though. She'll come back when she's finished."

Hadrian shifted his weight and glanced over his shoulder at the guards. They didn't seem nearly as fazed as Shabina thought they might be.

"I should go after her," Shabina whispered. Her feet remained rooted to the floor. Hadrian breathed a laugh and she wondered if he was going to tell her what to do. This boy was uncharted territory. She had almost no intelligence on him. All she knew was that he'd been his father's shadow for the past two years. Nothing about his birth mother, about where he'd been raised – it was just as if he'd appeared from the ocean.

"I wasn't expecting you to be like this."

"Like what?"

"Nice."

She blinked. He was smiling – mouth closed, eyes creased – like he knew a funny secret. She cocked her head. Should she take that as an insult?

"Lin's been expecting you to charge up here and screw her into the floor," Shabina's cheeks went hot, "only reason she hasn't initiated is because you're in a position of power."

Her face still burned by the time he stopped talking. She cleared her throat and looked up, meeting his dark eyes. "That – she talks to you about that?"

He shrugged. "She likes to be dramatic about things. That way it's harder to tell when she's actually about to kill you."

There weren't many things she could say to that.

As if sensing her thoughts, Hadrian hummed and checked the guards again. "Cortez? I don't think she's coming back for a while, you should probably go."

The tall guard nodded, giving Shabina a nod. The four other guards did the same. Their chests were heaving and glistening with sweat as they put their gear together and slung it over their shoulders. Hadrian himself was in a thin long-sleeved shirt. No sweat stains, but a light sheen of sweat laid across his brow. The shirt covered half his palms and his collarbones, even though it sagged down his waist.

"You should get the guards to do daily combat training."

"What?"

Hadrian lifted his brows, suddenly serious. It would have been comical on his youthful face if Shabina didn't know he was a hunter. "Your guards are undertrained. They do strength training but that won't be enough."

"What do you mean?"

He smiled like he was in on a secret, a joke Shabina wouldn't understand. "The Citadel won't protect you from what's coming."

--

"Coup de foudre" (from French, lit. "lightning strike" or "bolt of thunder")

A sudden or amazing action or event. Love at first sight.