The cold bite of the marble throne stung her arm. She shifted uncomfortably on the white stone, wishing she hadn't consented to such a monstrosity of a seat.

When the Thirteenth Isle had emerged from the sea, everyone had assumed that the original Lords and Ladies' thrones, as well as Aella's, would emerge intact. They had not. And given the frantic rebuilding and rampant poverty that marked her first year in power, they hadn't been able to build a new one. Maia of course understood that they couldn't have wasted fortunes on a throne when her people were starving on the streets, but she wished that they might have decided on an equally cheap stool as opposed to marble salvaged from parts of Medea's palace that Lysandra had no use for. It hadn't helped that they'd compared it to sitting on a throne 'made of the bones of your enemies' and that the ornate throne was the very thing she'd been terrified of her whole life.

But it wasn't really the throne that was annoying her. It was the nagging thoughts of Aaron.

I don't owe you anything. When Lysandra had snapped that at her, she'd been so shocked she'd barely been able to breathe or think. They'd spent four years searching endlessly for him, and they'd always shared every piece of information, every wild rumour and educated guess. Over time, they'd become something like friends. Or so she'd thought. But even then, that betrayal was nothing compared to the pain of losing Aaron.

It had been four years since she'd seen him. There had been no sign of him since Medea's assassination. Not one. And she missed him. She missed his laugh. She missed debating with him over their favourite book, or talking about the smallest and most irrelevant things. Sometimes she missed him so much she could barely breathe. Yet the fear of seeing him again haunted her the worst—because although Lysandra had said Aaron still held out feelings for her, still believed she might be good deep down, what if Medea's death had twisted his hurt into hatred?

Maia shook her head to clear her mind of such thoughts and tried to focus on the meeting.

Layla sat to her right and Alexandrius sat next to Layla's, both Maia and the Silverian Lord in prime position. Indeed, their closeness to the Elfin Queen was something all the others coveted—and if she were to give it to someone else, it might gain her much needed loyalty. Maia had even suggested it herself. But Layla had replied that she would sooner carve out her own heart. Maia and Alexandrius had been their firmest allies from the start, she'd said. To give them any less than the greatest honours she could grant would be a betrayal.

Her sister could be incredibly stubborn sometimes.

But Layla wasn't entirely immune to politics. She had Cathay's Lord right next to Maia, where he could feel part of the inner circle, whilst in actual fact he was being watched by its real members. Her advisor, a slime ball if there ever was one but loyal to his core nonetheless, sat next to Alexandrius with Velith and Raroth's Lords nearby, making sure the dissenters were always under the eye of those Layla trusted.

"Your Majesty," the various Lords and Ladies murmured as Layla took her seat. She only dipped her head in acknowledgement.

Both sisters were already eager to get the meeting over with, it seemed.

"Any urgent news?" The Elfin Queen asked, scanning each of them.

"Velith requests to heighten taxes—" Jaron, Lord of Velith, began.

"Her Majesty said urgent news," Alexandrius said, cutting across him smoothly. "You've requested the same thing for several weeks now. Velith has plenty of funds."

"You will let him speak for you?" Jaron interjected, turning to Layla

"Let him?" Maia's sister replied, raising her eyebrows. "He's a Lord of his own right. He can speak to you whenever he wishes. I, on this occasion, happen to agree with him."

"A Lord?" Jaron scoffed, but didn't expand further. He—along with many others on the council—didn't believe Alexandrius a true Lord as he was so distantly related to the Silverians. And yet they had accepted that monster Tyrion Lasith with open arms, even though he barely had more Lord's blood than Alexandrius. Hypocrites. The council was made of hypocrites.

"Anything else?" Layla asked, glancing to the rest of them in turn. Maia was tempted to clap.

"There's been another proposal," her advisor added. Her sister stifled a groan. From the moment she had ascended to power, she'd been bombarded with betrothal offers from power-hungry Lords and their children, as well as (surprisingly) a few nobles from Lysandra's court. Everyone expected her to marry at some point. Aella had wed for her husband's raw power and dozens of Lords and Ladies had been betrothed to nobles from other cities in order to build political alliances. Layla had absolutely zero interest in all of it, like her sister and parents before her.

"Who from?" Layla asked.

"The High Priest—he wants to create a lasting alliance between the crown and the temple." Unlike the valkyrian priestesses, elfin priests had no qualms about marriage. "It's not a bad idea; taking the religious angle will appeal to a lot of people. You're already the Elfin Queen, only a few steps from god status. A marriage to someone in the temple could be those few steps." The advisor counselled.

"Ridiculous," the Lord of Cathay interjected. "If Her Majesty marries, it should be with one of the noble Lord and Ladies' bloodline." And Cathay would like it to be either him or his son that got the chance to form such an alliance with the Elfin Queen.

"I believe it's Her Majesty's decision," Maia snapped.

"And yet Alexandrius just spoke on her behalf. Can I not?"

"No one speaks on my behalf." Layla snapped. "Alexandrius and I had already discussed the matter of Velith. He spoke my thoughts, that is all."

"Your Majesty," a voice came from behind, interrupting the conversation. Layla turned away, already grateful to whoever had spoken.

A black-robed elf stood at the door. Maia could glimpse the tip of silver blades poking from his fighting leather and immeadietly she recognised him as Daemon No-Name. Aegean, an AnimalSpeaker, followed behind him, his usually vivacious amber eyes paled. Maia tried to read the rest of their faces but found nothing. They knew to keep their expressions blank amongst the Circle of Lords.

"An important matter has arisen," Aegean told her. At least they'd be less offended by his speaking to them than by Daemon's; he might be common-born like the shadowy spy, but he was from a wealthy enough family—unlike Daemon, who was an orphan with unknown parents, thus the 'No-Name'.

"We humbly ask for your attention at the earliest convenience." Aegean continued.

The Lords and Ladies shifted, exchanging glances. They hardly wanted their scheming to be interrupted.

"Unless there's anything else, I can speak to you now." Layla glanced back at the gathered nobles, but none of them spoke. Her advisor, however, looked ready to explode. No doubt her sister would be gently—but firmly—berated for ending the meeting this early. Maia had a feeling Layla didn't care.

Layla left the room, Maia and Alexandrius at her sides, whilst Aegean and Daemon watched her back. No one would get to the Elfin Queen.

"What's going on?" Layla asked. Daemon only shook his head. Too important to say out in the open then. The walls had eyes and ears, and most unfortunately, mouths as well.

Only once they reached another hidden corridor where no one ever bothered to go did they relax their silence.

"It's another letter for Jaron," Aegean explained. Layla relaxed immediately; even Maia let down her guard a little.

"No, don't relax," Aegean said tightly. "The code's far more complex this time. I couldn't get all of it figured out, and what I did I can't be

sure of, but..." he soundlessly passed her a piece of paper with an endless stream of calculations and experiments. Her brow furrowed; Aegean was a master code-cracker. He hadn't yet encountered a cipher he couldn't unravel (which Maia constantly told everyone, because he was too modest to boast for himself). And yet this had taken him so long, and he still didn't have some of it...

Her eyes the bottom of the paper, where he seemed to have found the solution. Only snippets were translated— just enough to piece together the message.

Nephew,

Your mother tells me of recent events. Whilst I commend you on what you've done, it's not enough. Now is the time to act. I believe...

This was followed by a string of gibberish. Maia groaned in frustration and scanned down to the point when the words were decoded again.

...that fool of a queen will rue the day she was born when we're through. I wish I could come out of hiding sooner, but Goldeneye is wise. He knows we must wait...and wait we shall. But soon, I promise we will make our mark. No one will be able to hide what we do...But I need you to do something from the inside. We need the Lords on our side. Make sure Cathay...

The translation ended there. She scanned down hopefully, but all the rest was gibberish. Unable to so much as speak, she handed the letter over to Layla.

"Jaron has other uncles," she said nervously. "I think his mother is Julian's younger sister, but they have two younger brothers that could have sent this..."

"We never saw Julian die," Layla said shakily. "I mean, I saw the dagger sink into his shoulder, but it's possible he lived."

"Silvera fell the day afterwards," Maia said, almost pleading, as though she could beg Julian back into the grave. "He couldn't have made it out—"

"Yes, he could have," Layla interrupted. "Jaron's other uncles don't have the brains for coding like this. Let's stop trying to hide from the truth. It's Julian's letter, and he's alive and conspiring against me."

"Nephew might be a codename," Maia suggested. "Like Goldeneye." Layla only raised her eyebrow.

"Do you want him to be alive?" She demanded. Aegean went to her side, quietly soothing her. She pushed him away, not interested in being calmed. She instantly regretted it and sent him an apologetic look.

But a single glance at Layla's eyes shook her from her thoughts. She knew her twin. And the sight of the guilty look on her face told her everything.

Because a part of her twin did want Julian to be alive. A part of Layla wanted to feel herself digging a blade between his ribs, to taste the blood pouring from his veins, to make his life a waking version of the nightmares that haunted her.

And Maia knew as much as her twin tried to bury that piece of her deep, deep down, the darkness within her still reared its head at the sound of Julian's name.

But she wouldn't let Layla succumb to that darkness, that thirst for blood. She had seen what it had done to Talia, turning her into something she never wanted to be. A version of herself that the original one couldn't even recognise. And although she told herself that neither she nor Layla would ever stray down that path...

Yes, she thought. A part of her is happy that Julian is alive. Because she wants to kill him herself.

———

Layla

A motley collection of nations assembled in the circular council room. The mosaics beneath her feet were splashed with colour, depicting a pattern of sky and floating islands to represent the elves. This then converged with an ocean, made in tiles of various blues and a hint of white for the foam on the waves—all laid beneath Myra and Kestra's thrones. This in turn met the fire of Calore and shadow of Lysandria. The four different elements ringed a golden 'A'.

Above her, the ceiling told a very different story. Scenes of the First and Second Crimson Wars were shown with glittering mosaics and intricate paintings; depictions of battles, fallen countries and rising rebellions. A grave reminder of everything they had overcome and the dangers that came with division—for if the elves, valkyries and humans had been united, the Empress might never have been able to gain a foothold in the Lost Continent.    As always, she deliberately avoided the mosaics of Talia and Rose's deaths, just like Myra did. Every time she looked up, she considered removing them, if just to spare her friends and herself the pain, but every time she worked up the nerve to, she hesitated. Rose and Talia had sacrificed themselves for their friends, their family and their cause. It would be wrong for them to be forgotten and wiped away, no matter how much the sight of Talia's blood on the dungeon floor ripped her apart.

She distracted herself examining the painting of her Song, the work of magic that had brought the islands of Asriel into the skies once more and changed the course of the Second War. The painter had clearly gone for flattery over accuracy; at the time, she had been covered with blood and her clothes little more than rags. In the mosaic, she was wearing battle armour and practically glowing with power. Usually, it never failed to distract her, but now...

"Kestra?" Myra repeated, and she was shaken out of her daze to turn to her friend. "Any pressing matters to discuss?"

"No," the Keeper Queen replied, clearly forcing herself to stay focused.

"Julian's been corresponding with his nephew, the new Lord of Velith." Layla interrupted. There. Better to get it out quickly.

Just like that, everyone woke up. Lysandra, previously leaning luxuriously on her grandiose throne, stood straight and to attention. Beside her, Nala froze, her hawklike green eyes fixing on Layla. Myra turned to face the young Elfin Queen, already analysing their strategy. Even Kestra broke clean from her daze and turned to face her.

"Julian? The Lord of Velith who attacked Veron and Celeste, then sided with the Empress, kidnapped Layla, killed Talia and is now in exile?" Nala asked. Layla managed a confirming nod.

"We've intercepted a message between him and his nephew, Jaron, who has replaced him as Velith's leader." Layla added.

"Put him under watch," Nala said immediately. "I'll get my people onto it."

"Start searching for Julian," Myra commanded instead. "Now we know he's active, we'll put all our resources into finding him—"

"I've already doing everything you're going to suggest. Despite what you two seem to believe, my spies aren't completely incompetent."She bit back a surge of anger. She wasn't a child anymore.

"Layla, this is Julian Corinth." Nala groaned. "The man who destroyed half of Veron and Celeste, killed your aunt and kidnapped you from right under our noses. We have to have him, and all his supporters, in custody as soon as possible—"

"My circle can deal with this. If you can find better spies anywhere in this continent, then I'll hand over my throne." That silenced both Myra and Nala, mainly because Layla was right. Daemon was better at blending into shadows than Lysandra, Aegean had connections that rivalled Tarua Teris' and Alexandrius' MindWeaving abilities and strict security usually uncovered about six treasonous plots before breakfast. Still, Myra wasn't convinced and neither was Nala. From the glint in the Prime Minister's eye and the all-too-innocent look on the Dragon's face, they were already planning how to start searching for Julian without Layla finding out. Let them try.

"No one can know about this," Lysandra said at last. "No, don't look at me that way, Kestra. Nothing good can come of the public getting hold of this information. They'll either panic or they'll be inspired and join him. We all know that a lot of people aren't happy about the Alliance, or the Isthmus cities."

Layla bit back her own protests, mainly because this time Lysandra was right. Most people had refused to go near either Triad, Allia or Sirius, cities where the three races and four nations intermingled. Even the benefits the Alliance had offered to entice them—cheap land, a wealth of jobs and even free transportation—hadn't swayed anyone. To make matters worse, some had moved further from the borders to avoid the very slow trickle of people from other nations starting to occupy places like Cobalt, Celeste and Topaz, which were closest to the dividing lines between countries. And despite the news of marriages between different races that was slowly coming through, valkyries, elves and humans seemed only slightly less liable to tear each other to shreds than they did four years ago.

"It could help them prepare for any actions Julian might take, and could also allow us to have the whole public on the lookout." Myra frowned.

"But then Julian would know you're onto him," Lysandra pointed out. "And Jaron, thick-skulled bloke as he is, will probably put two and two together and realise you know about him as well."

"Fine." Layla replied. "As I've already told you, you shouldn't worry. We have already put all necessary measures in place. Now, what else?"

But all other news suddenly seemed laughably minor in the face of Layla's announcement. With nothing to do but let their thoughts lead them to unpleasant places, they adjourned the meeting and went their separate ways.