Cassia kept the medal in a small, clever pocket hidden in the skirts of her gown. A confection of sea-foam gauze, the dress was pleasantly loose and light. 

Bright blue ribbon, starting just under her breasts, wound around her stomach and waist before stopping at her hips, keeping the material pinned to show off her form. The square neck thankfully did not show any cleavage. The sheer sleeves ended just below her elbows, flaring into subtle trumpets, and the skirt just barely touched the ground. 

It was easy to move in and comfortable, but still pretty. Her hair was piled into a heavy braid atop her head because Claudia insisted it showed off the graceful line of her neck, which was highlighted by a light necklace of aquamarines set in silver.

Cassia had inquired who she was supposed to be showing her neck off to. Her lady-in-waiting had not been amused. Drusilla and Antonia had barely said two words to her as the servants had helped her dress this morning. The silence had begun to prickle, and she eventually dismissed them all.

Now she wandered the halls, thinking over her plans. Wondering if they were even remotely feasible. After all, sleeping with her was one thing, teaching her to fight... She wondered if Lord Julianus would think her mad. She herself was almost inclined to.

But her father hadn't given her much of a choice. Not after he'd banned the palace guards from so much as letting her watch them train and had threatened to kill anyone who would be "reckless with her safety". Even now she couldn't stop from rolling her eyes at the sheer absurdity of it all.

All because she refused to step down like the women before her always had.

She was staring blankly at a painting—a grand scene of war—standing in one of the castle's great halls, thinking about the best way to approach the lord.

Should she make it a game? Should she tell him the unflinching truth? That seemed to have worked well enough last night, but she simply didn't know the man well enough. 

What she did know was she had never seen anyone fight like he had. She also knew that he would not care for the risk, considering how he had lingered this morning.

"Princess?"

Cassia looked over to find one of her father's personal servants bowing before her. Her lips pressed into a thin line, dread seeping through her blood. "Yes?"

"The king requests your presence, Your Highness," the servant said, head still bowed.

She suppressed a snort. The king had never requested anything in his life. But she couldn't very well refuse him, request or otherwise, so Cassia gestured for the servant to lead on, even though she was perfectly capable of finding her way around the castle.

The silence pressed into a smothering bubble around them as they strode down sweeping staircases and along wide halls. Nobles and courtiers bowed and ladies curtsied, but Cassia couldn't spare them a glance.

It had barely been an hour since she had seen her father and who she suspected was Malitech leave on horseback, which meant one of two things. Either their hunt had been quickly successful, or something else had brought them back to the castle.

All she could do was pray to the gods that her father wasn't going to force her to consider another marriage proposal. She'd rejected four last month, another three the month before. 

She prayed for the day when the eligible men of the empire would run out.

The dark walls of the castle blurred around her as they walked, the servant not looking at her. Her stomach pulled tighter with every step approaching the large, pale ash doors that often sealed her father away from the rest of the world.

She took a moment to breathe deeply, touching the medal in her pocket once more. The servant gave her a sideways glance and she straightened her shoulders, tilting her chin back haughtily.

The servant knocked once on the door.

"Enter," the king called, voice overbearing even through a thick slab of wood.

Cassia's chest tightened once and then the doors were being pushed open by the servant, who stayed in the doorway, bowing until the king dismissed him. She forced herself not to hesitate as she strode across the threshold.

Rays of sunshine poured through east-facing windows to her left. A massive fireplace stood empty to her right, the dark stone of the room seeming to swallow the light from the windows. A tapestry depicting a snarling wolf cornering an almost completely naked man who held a spear hung above the fireplace. Snow captured in white and silver thread swirled around them, making Cassia shiver on the man's behalf.

Her father sat behind a gargantuan oak desk papered in maps and military reports. Two golden oil lamps sat on either corner of the desk, burning even in the middle of the morning.

On the wall behind him, rendered in pure gold and nearly as tall as Cassia herself, was the crest of House Auralius. Two falcons grappled over a naked sword, beaks open in fierce screams, wings flared and straining, talons wicked even as the blade cut into their feet.

A deep red carpet filigreed with a pattern of gold around the edges covered the majority of the stone floor, muffling her footsteps as she walked the sprawling distance between the doors—which closed behind her—and the desk.

King Durus didn't look up as she stood before the desk, hands clasped neatly at her waist. Her skull was beginning to ache from the weight of her hair pulling on the hidden pins keeping the thick braids wrapped around her head.

Cassia didn't speak. She knew he was aware of her presence. She also knew he wanted her to try for his attention. 

So she turned her head to find crows circling the coliseum across the city as she waited. They glided through the blue air, and she wondered what had drawn their attention today. Executions, battles, sacrifices to the ravenous mob?

Sunlight played gently through the clear glass of the windows, sparking off shiny flecks in the granite visible around the edges of the room.

A door behind the king's right shoulder, small and alcoved as to be almost hidden, was opened and Malitech slipped into the room. A snarl clawed its way up her throat and she choked on it for a moment.

Then her eyes zeroed in on the ugly, bright red cut on the side of his neck. Her lips twitched into a small smile that was quickly discarded as her father finally looked up.

He stared at her for a moment, then sighed. Cassia had heard that sigh every day of her life. If only you had been born a man, is what that sigh said and she had hated the sound since she was old enough to understand it.

She dropped into a graceful curtsy, spreading the airy blue-green skirts of her dress into wings at her sides. "Your Majesty," she murmured. 

The words were sour on her tongue, the action painful to her body, but she had learned long ago that observing the niceties often got her further than stubbornness, even when she didn't mean them.

"Rise," the king finally said, and Cassia immediately straightened.

Malitech leaned against the wall, arms crossed. His black hair was still half-up from their hunt this morning, keeping the sable strands out of his face.

"Cassia," her father began, "do you know why I have called you today?"

Her muscles attempted to lock up, her fingers wanting to twitch toward the medal in her pocket. She quelled both impulses and affected a slightly bored expression. "I can't say I do, Your Majesty."

The king leaned back in the heavy, carved oak chair, propping his elbow on the armrest. He brought his hand up, fingers pressing into his temple as he raked another vaguely disappointed gaze over her. His hazel-brown eyes seemed hollow and cold to her.

They always had, even when she was a child and had stilled dreamed of her father's approval.

"Three things," Durus said. "You were not at the ball last night."

She didn't bat an eyelash. "I felt unwell after dinner. A headache."

"And you couldn't see fit to deal with the pain for the sake of our guests?"

Cassia didn't allow her mouth to twist into a snarl. She should have known that line of excuses would only give him an opportunity to ridicule her supposed weakness. A weakness that had always glazed his view of her—one created by his own prejudices.

"My apologies," she said, voice icy. "I hadn't realized my presence would be so missed."

Now the king gazed at her, keeping his face carefully still. She smiled inwardly. If he admitted her presence was missed, he admitted her presence was wanted.

"Lord Julianus' presence was missed."

She did not miss the slight snub.

"Lord Julianus missed his own celebration?" she asked, dashing just enough confusion and polite concern into her voice. "Had he taken ill? I noticed he did not eat much at dinner."

The king's expression wavered, appearing momentarily perplexed, but then he recovered and shrugged. "Apparently he felt well enough this morning."

Cassia raised an eyebrow, but the king didn't deign to explain that remark.

Instead, he stood up, folding his arms behind his back as he walked toward the windows. His dark blue coat fell elegantly from his shoulders to the middle of his thighs. The collar of his white shirt was stark against the jacket and the dark sheet of his chin-length hair.

All she could do was wait for him to say what she knew was coming.

"Cassia," he sighed, the sound long-suffering, "reconsider."

She closed her eyes for a moment, praying for strength and composure as he reopened a never-ending argument. Her voice was too flat when she said, "No. I know you don't want me to travel because it will disqualify my claim. I will not do that, though I know your wishes very well." Her lip curled slightly. "I'm sorry to disappoint you so continually."

"No need to apologize, my dear," the king said smoothly. "I have come to expect it."

Pain lanced her heart even though she knew it shouldn't. "Of that I am aware, Your Majesty, but by the gods' grace, I am afraid Malitech will not see the throne while I live."

Malitech's expression darkened, clearly wishing he could change those circumstances immediately.

"May the gods curse you with your own stubborness," the king hissed, turning back around. "I don't know where you come by it. Your mother has never been so stubborn."

Cassia tried not to sneer at the mention of the queen. She was well aware of her shortcomings in comparison to her mother. A lady of renowned manner and beauty, she also had a quiet demeanor that allowed the king to easily bully her into submission—another thing Cassia did not share with her mother.

"It would seem I have too much of my father's blood in me," she snapped, temper fraying. She bit down hard on her tongue, fingers finding their way to the pocket before she could stop them. 

Durus didn't respond to that, instead just pressing his mouth into a thin line. Once again, Cassia chalked it up as a small victory, the only kind she had ever managed against her father.

"It is dangerous, Cassia," he tried, but even he must have known how half-hearted he sounded. "The revolts in Mortania are growing worse."

All she did was blink slowly. He could not change her mind, and he knew it. She kept her face carefully blank once again when he sighed, giving up on the tired argument for the moment.

"Speaking of the revolts in Mortania," Malitech said, "my envoy is prepared to leave, Father."

"Envoy?" Cassia asked, not quailing under her father's reprimanding hiss. "What envoy?"

"The envoy to Mortania," Malitech said smugly. "Father is sending me to Antelium to parlay with the remaining chieftains to try and avoid another war."

"You're sending Malitech?" Disbelief poured through her as she stared at her brother, who still wore that insufferably smug smirk. She whirled back to her father. "For a diplomatic mission? Have you gone mad?"

"Mind your tongue, girl," Durus snarled.

"But Malitech will start a war!" she cried. "At least send Marcus if you won't send me."

"You?" Malitech laughed. "What could you do?"

"Speak while using my brain, for one thing," she said cruelly. "Not whatever you think with most days." She turned back to her father. "And I speak Mortanian better in my sleep than he does sober. If he manages to stay sober for the trip!"

"Enough," Durus growled. "There is no place for you there, Cassia. You would be unable to negotiate with the barbarians. Though they are savages, they are silver-tongued and slippery."

"They are also highly sensitive to perceived slights," she returned, keeping her voice calm, diplomatic, anything but emotional, "and Malitech is about as subtle as a housecat in heat."

Malitech started to snap back, but he was overrode by their father. "My decision was made weeks ago, Cassia. Malitech is going. You are not."

Her fists clenched. She opened her mouth to argue, to press the point that she was well versed enough in both business and philosophy. That she could argue with the best of her father's politicians, but he held up his hand. His face had settled into a familiar, unyielding mask and she knew it wouldn't matter what she said, regardless of how sensible.

Mouth twisted, she said, "If I were you, Majesty, I would begin to prepare plans for how you would like to split the troops to fight on two fronts again. Perhaps you should warn your new general that he will be going back to Mortania instead of Brunia."

"Leave," he said. "I am done with you."

Cassia bowed at the waist this time, mocking him with the fact that she still wasn't a man. Then she spun on her heel and left, throwing the heavy doors open as far as she could move them by herself, and stormed into the hall.

It infuriated her how quickly they were closed behind her.

In her haste, she slammed right into someone lingering just beyond the doors. Hard muscle and the stiff material of an expensive jacket let her know she had run into a man.

Scarred, sun-tanned hands steadied her. "Still always in a hurry, Cissy?" an unfamiliar voice asked, freezing her at the use of a nickname that had almost been forgotten.

Only one person had ever called her that.

She slowly looked up to find a familiar pair of eyes in a face that held echoes of her childhood. "E-Elias?" she stuttered.

"Do you know any other?" he asked. Then he let out a hearty laugh that she didn't remember from the shy boy she had grown up with. 

Before she knew what was happening, he had picked her up and whirled her around in a tight embrace. Instinct and sentiment overrode her shock, and she hugged him back, letting out a breathless laugh when he finally put her down. He took her hand and bowed deeply. "My lady."

Cassia let out a small laugh and pulled him out of his bow. "Are you really here?" she asked, small wonder in her tone. "The last anyone had heard after—" She cut herself off, paling horribly at what she had been about to say.

Elias stiffened and dropped her hand. A flash of gold caught her attention as his left hand fell, and she found a signet ring on his smallest finger but couldn't make out the seal upon its face.

She didn't know what to say.

Elias Lucans had changed much from the frail boy she had watched leave the castle in disgrace with his mother and three sisters.

He shifted uncomfortably beneath her stare, and she softened it with a smile. "Have you..." she started. "Have you come back?"

The stiff material of his black jacket was loud in the quiet hall when he shrugged. Sunlight caught the gold and emerald thread embroidered over his waistcoat and along the sleeves and lapels of his jacket. She thought it might be a pattern of leaves, but was unsure, focused as she was on his face.

His brown hair, streaked with strands of subtle gold by the sun, still curled endearingly around his ears. His eyes were still the same sparkling light brown, but that was where the likeness to her memories ended. His once pale skin had been tanned to an almond-brown and he was now half a head taller than she. Muscle corded through his arms and legs, though he wasn't as big a man as Julianus. 

There were scars on his hands.

Cassia tried not to gawk and was quickly aided in that effort by Elias himself.

"Did you get any of my letters?" he asked softly. "I tried to write when I could."

Now she scowled and shook her head. "No. My father burned them. He wouldn't shut up about—" Again she cut herself off. She glanced at the doors behind them and waved at Elias to follow her.

"It's all right, Cassia," Elias said as they walked. "It's not a secret from me."

All she could do was dredge up another smile.

It was amazing to her, how much could change in thirteen years. She no longer knew how to talk to someone who had once been her best friend in the entire world. She no longer knew what parts of his past she was allowed to tread in, what part of his future she was allowed to know.

They found a relatively quiet hall lined with benches, windows and fine art, and sat down.

He scrubbed a hand through his curly hair, sighing. Cassia turned to look out a window, watching a soft breeze rustle the leaves of the orange trees. The sky was an endless blue, though there were clouds brewing to the far north.

"Elias...," she began softly.

"Your brother invited me here," he said suddenly. His words nearly tripped over themselves, like he was trying to get them out of the way and hoping she wouldn't ask any questions.

Cassia instantly stiffened. "Marcus?" she asked, hoping it was her slightly more endurable second younger brother.

"No." Elias also looked out the window, fingers playing with the cuff of his jacket. "Malitech," he said after a long time.

She couldn't control the snarl her mouth slipped into now—not so soon after the events that had transpired behind the doors of her father's study. "Why?" she asked flatly.

"I joined the navy," he explained quietly. "Malitech was aboard the ship I serve on last summer. I...saved his life during an attack by pirates."

Cassia nodded, expression growing sour. She had been furious that her father had allowed Malitech to travel with the navy, but had forbidden her from so much as looking at the vessels docked in the nearby port. Then shock trilled through her.

"The navy?" she asked in disbelief. She glanced again at his hands, realizing the scars for what they were—rope burns. 

"Well I couldn't very well join the army," he said bitterly. "My father made certain of that."

It felt like something made of glass had just exploded all around them as he dove into the topic she had clumsily danced around. The sharp debris was scattered between them now as she groped for something—anything—to say.

Gaius Lucans had once been a general of the Seventh Legion. He had died a coward and his family had been punished for it. Stripped of their titles and most of their land, they had been forced from the castle for Gaius' transgressions against the empire and the Seventh had been disbanded.

Until now.

"Have you done well?" she asked finally, because she simply didn't know what else to say. "Do you like it?"

"Well enough," he said with a shrug. "I've recently made lieutenant, though we've a month's leave while the fleet is docked for repairs here in Levitum, so I have yet to lead any of the men."

An officer's ring, she realized, that was what gleamed now on his little finger.

"Congratulations," she murmured, trying to feel some genuine pleasure for someone she had once known better than herself. But she couldn't with his words hanging heavy on her shoulders. "You said Malitech invited you?" she asked. "Why? I don't remember you ever getting along any better with Malitech than I do."

In fact, she remembered Elias once getting in a fight with Malitech because her brother had pushed her into the lake at their vacation home in the south. Elias had been soundly thrashed, but Cassia had kissed him for the effort.

They couldn't have been more than nine years of age.

Elias shrugged again. "We were set upon by pirates. I saved his life."

She scoffed at the non-answer. "So for something any sailor could have done—would have been charged to do, actually—Malitech felt enough gratitude to invite you back to the castle after all this time?" Cassia scoffed again. "Malitech doesn't even know what gratitude is, so why would he bring you here?"

"To return my title," he snapped. "I saved his life and he felt indebted. Regardless of what you think of him, Cassia, he has at least that much honor."

The harsh tone surprised her, and it must have showed on her face because he took her free hand, an apology in his eyes.

"He said he will return your title?" she asked, lightly tugging free of his grasp, not missing the disappointment in his eyes. "Perhaps someone should tell Malitech that he does not have that power."

"No, but he holds sway with your father," Elias said carelessly. "He hopes to talk to the king today. In fact, I am supposed to meet with them soon."

He took a silvered watch from his pocket and grimaced. "Very soon." Slowly, he put the watch back, sliding a sideways glance at her. An uncomfortable silence descended around them once again.

Cassia was very weary of uncomfortable silences.

She soon realized he was waiting for her to say something. She realized he wanted her to ask to see him again—perhaps in a bid to close the gap between them that was growing ever more aware of itself.

It took a moment, but she pulled on the smile she had long been practicing—the one that hid every true thing about her—and said, "You have been gone a long while, Elias. You'll have to find time to tell me of your adventures. If Malitech gives you the chance that is."

The subtle dig didn't seem to register. He grinned a familiar, easy grin and opened his mouth again, but they both turned as men's voices came around the corner, soon followed by the men they belonged to.

A silent servant came first, and behind him was the captain of the guard, carrying a familiar sword. He was soon followed by two guards carrying Julianus between them. Or, rather, helping him to limp down the great expanse of the hall toward his chambers.

Cassia quickly schooled her features to blankness as they approached. Julianus looked directly at her, his dark eyes tight with pain, and she wondered what had happened. 

There was no blood to be seen. No injury beyond an ugly bruise blooming like a dark flower on the corner of his mouth. His loose white shirt billowed around him, spotlessly clean, and the fawn-colored trousers he wore were not stained with anything sinister.

She again met his eyes.

The corner of his mouth twitched, but then his gaze slid to Elias seated beside her. Cassia forced herself not to stiffen. The captain of the guard bowed, and the two men carrying Julianus and Julianus himself nodded their heads respectfully as they passed her.

Julianus' face didn't betray a single thing, not even a knowing smirk, and they watched as the soldiers proceeded down the hall.

Before they turned, Elias asked, "Is that him, then? Your father's new general?"

"The Seventh's new general," Cassia corrected distantly. "Lord Calix Julianus."

Elias gave her a startled look and opened his mouth, but she quickly stood. The last thing she wanted to discuss with Elias was Julianus. He scrambled to his feet as well, playing nervously with the cuff of his jacket.

"I would like to see you again, if you can manage it, to learn of what you have been doing with yourself all these years." This she actually meant. It wasn't every day the past returned so forcefully like this, and she genuinely wanted to know how he had wound up in the navy of all places. Plus it would give her an opportunity to question him about his conversation with her father and Malitech.

Elias studied her for a moment longer. 

The whole exchange should have been happier, she thought. It shouldn't have left such a sour taste in her mouth. Not when what she had considered a long-lost friend had been miraculously returned by a chance of fate.

Finally, Elias bowed. "I will be at your beck and call, my lady." He looked up, grinning at her. "Just like old times."

She smiled and nodded, and Elias returned the gesture before walking back down the long hall. When he was gone, she slowly sank back down onto the bench, fingers slipping into her pocket to play with the medal there.

After a moment's consideration, she decided it would be unwise to seek the lord out now, not after the king had taken an interest. Cassia decided she would wait three days to see him, even though she was eager to present her second proposition.

She took the medal out, letting it lie flat on the tips of her fingers. Sunlight played over the glittering bronze as she considered what Elias' presence and his sudden connection to her brother could mean for her.

A sigh escaped her, and she closed her fingers around the laurel. 

When she had been younger, she had often dreamed of what her reunion with Elias would be like. None of those dreams involved her rotten younger brother.

Cassia closed her eyes briefly, letting herself mourn those dreams for a moment. 

Her heart didn't seem to care that she should be used to disappointments by now.