Elias looked up from his desk at the sound of a knock. "Come," he called, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his eyes. The door creaked open, followed by the sound of boots and the dull thud of a fist hitting a chest.

Keeping his eyes closed in an effort to stave of the headache that had been brewing since the afternoon, he didn't immediately address whoever had come in. Malitech didn't knock and anyone else who would come to his office bore two things: reports on ship movements for various nations or new orders from the prince.

It startled him when whoever it was cleared his throat, demanding Elias' attention.

"Excuse me, Cap'n," the man said, his accent marking him as someone from southwestern Metus, near the coast. 

Elias gritted his teeth, slowly opening his eyes. A man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties stood before him. He wore plain clothes, a dark coat over a simple wool shirt and trousers. But the fan of black feathers tattooed across the back of his right hand marked him as one of Malitech's guards. Elias' stomach knotted, but he made sure to keep his face impassive.

Ever since Cassia had escaped Malitech's net nearly a month ago, Elias had lived in fear of the moment the prince would learn of his lie. That Malitech would somehow be made aware of the fact that Elias had been mere yards from Cassia. That the prince would learn Elias had simply watched as she scrambled up the side of a Sorian ship and been borne away into the west.

The prince knew his sister was gone from Levitum. How, Elias didn't know.

None of the Black Crests had been there to witness what he had done. He'd made it to the alley behind the Raven's Well just as the first guard had been emerging from the cellar doors. When the guard had asked why Elias was so out of breath and limping, Elias hadn't thought, he'd just answered.

Wiping his sweaty hands on his pants, Elias shook his head at the Black Crest. "When I got down into the cellar," he said, still panting a little, "this door was being opened. Someone was running out."

The guard had taken an excited step toward him. "Was it her?" he asked, making sure to pitch his voice low. "Was the prince's source right about her being here?"

Before he realized what he was doing, Elias shook his head. 

The guard looked down in disappointment, missing Elias' grimace. His mind began to scramble, sorting through the options left to him now.

Short of killing the guard—something Elias was reluctant to do—he really only had one option.

"Just a thief looking for something to eat," he muttered.

The guard frowned. "You gave chase?"

Elias fought a wince, drawing himself up to his full height, even as his knee screamed. "Are you questioning my actions?" he asked, trying to imitate the low, silky tone Malitech used when he was displeased.

It must have worked, because the guard blanched and shook his head.

"I didn't realize it was nothing but a thief until I caught them," he said, not entirely sure he should be explaining himself to the Black Crest. Superior officers didn't owe explanations. Noblemen didn't owe explanations.

Yet, he couldn't help but feel having another to corroborate his story might prove useful in the future. 

Elias blinked himself out of the memory, realizing he hadn't yet given the guard permission to speak. He sighed and waved a hand, leaning back in his chair. The guard pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and held it out to him. "For you, sir."

Trying to keep his annoyance in check, Elias leaned forward and took the piece of paper. The prince's crest was stamped into the wax sealing it. Elias used his thumbnail to break it, snapping the missive open with a flick of his wrist.

I require your presence.

Elias frowned down at the words before flipping the page over. Nothing else was written. Not a meeting place. Not so much as a hint as to what the prince needed him for.

"I've been told to accompany you, sir," the Black Crest said.

That made Elias' stomach knot even further. Elias held the missive to the open flame of the lamp on his desk, watching as the paper grew black and curled, flame washing the prince's spiky script away. He tossed the remaining ash into the coals still simmering in the fireplace, then stood and walked around the desk.

He retrieved his greatcoat from a peg beside the door and opened it, striding out. The Black Crest scrambled to catch up with him as Elias wound through the cramped hallways of the port authority's keep.

Though Malitech had denied that he blamed Elias for the princess' escape, he had still sent Elias to spend the majority of his time at the port. Elias knew that technically this was a tactical maneuver of the prince's. All naval reports filtered through here, the important ones sent on to the palace and the king.

Malitech had even gone so far as to order that the admiral and handful of other high-ranking naval officers there treat Elias as their final authority. That way, Elias was able to comb through every report that made its way to Levitum's port, searching for any detail that might hint at Cassia's current whereabouts. The admiral and other officers now reported to Elias before they brought anything to the palace, regardless of the fact that the prince had not deigned to raise Elias' rank above a captain.

Another slight that made Elias fear the prince knew more about that day's events than he was letting on. His guilty conscience couldn't help but view it as a punishment.

Regardless of his rank—or lack thereof—Elias couldn't help but be satisfied by the way people stepped aside in the corridors, offering a salute or bowed head as he passed. Of course, that feeling always gave way to more guilt as he remembered all of the favors Malitech had bestowed on him.

Why had he let her go like that? Why had he lied to the guard? Why hadn't he immediately run to the prince, explain what had happened and commandeered any of the many ships in the harbor to chase after her?

Malitech had already sworn no harm would befall Cassia. 

Because he would have forced a failure of her trials, a tiny voice whispered in the back of his mind. And she would despise anyone who had helped him do it.

Elias immediately squashed that voice, reminding himself that the princess had already made her feelings toward him perfectly clear. All he had left to restore his family's name was the continued favor of the prince. He'd jeopardized that too much the moment he'd lifted his hand to her in farewell instead of summoning the Black Crests.

"I trust you have a horse?" he asked, voice short as he motioned for the slave waiting at the main door of the keep to open it.

"Yes, sir," the Black Crest replied. "And I told one of the stable boys to ready your mount as well."

Elias frowned at that, displeased by the guard's assumption. That dissipated as they stepped from the shelter of the stone building into the coming storm. Black clouds hung low over the city, stirred by violent winds sweeping in off the ocean. The air was heavy with moisture and bitterly cold, making the tips of Elias' fingers go numb before he could force them into a pair of calfskin gloves. His knee twinged, letting him know the ride up to the palace was not going to be a nice trip. 

Once they were mounted and beyond the walls of the keep, Elias slowed his horse, drawing abreast with the guard. The anxiety boiling in his chest was becoming too much to bear. The streets were mostly empty, the people of Levitum seeking shelter before the storm swept in at full force. That and the sound of the horses' hooves against the cobbled streets afforded enough privacy.

"Why were you sent?" Elias asked, keeping his voice low and watching the Black Crest from the corner of his eye. "His Highness could have simply sent a messenger. Or even a pigeon."

The note had been vague enough that, even if it was intercepted, no one would be able to makes heads or tails of it. It had been so vague, not even Elias could guess towards the prince's intentions.

"His Highness ordered me to," was the only answer given.

Dread seeped in alongside his anxiety, twisting his stomach. His right hand clenched where it rested atop his thigh, but he made a concerted effort to keep his left hand loose where it held the reins. The Black Crests were often compared to wolves for a reason. Even so much as a whiff of weakness made them go for the throat.

Why did Malitech believe he needed an escort?

Elias resisted the urge to ask again, knowing it was better to be patient. As members of the eldest prince's guard, most Black Crests didn't take kindly to being interrogated. Instead, Elias turned his mind to considering why he was here to begin with. After a little consideration, he decided the most likely explanation was that Malitech wanted to go somewhere beyond the castle as soon as Elias joined him, without waiting to be joined by one of his Black Crests.

Still...he couldn't quite manage to shed the tickle of paranoia. He stole another sideways look at the guard.

The Black Crest eyed a passing man with disgust, nudging his horse closer to Elias'. Craning his neck, Elias caught a glimpse of crusted bandages and raw patches of skin that hadn't been covered completely. 

A leper, his hand stretched out for coin from the passing nobles. Elias' hand drifted to the full purse at his belt, but he stopped. Again, he gave the Black Crest a sideways look.

His wrinkled nose and puckered mouth spoke volumes. The prince was not one for altruism or pity and that was reflected in his closest followers. Elias let his hand fall back down to rest on his thigh and he averted his eyes as they moved past the man.

A sour feeling settled in his stomach. Elias knew what it was to be hungry and desperate for money. What was more, his father had always taught him charitable acts were viewed favorably by most of the gods. That it was an honor to help and serve his countrymen in as many ways as he could, because he had much when so many had little.

No doubt another trait that led to his failure, Elias thought venomously, his heart hardening against the memories of his father. Another weakness.

He stewed in silence, thoughts alternating between the things that had led to his father's downfall and the things that might lead to his own. Again, the memory of Cassia lifting her hand in farewell drifted to the forefront of his mind. Elias shoved it away, grinding his teeth in frustration.

Thoughts consuming him, Elias didn't notice when the guard peeled away from the main road leading to the palace. He jerked to attention, turning in the saddle when a sharp whistle rang out. The Black Crest was frowning at him.

When the man beckoned toward him, Elias wheeled his horse around, nudging it into a trot that sent shards of pain into his knee. As he drew abreast of him, the guard kicked his own mount back into motion. Much to Elias' irritation, he kept them moving at a trot.

His anger overriding his caution, Elias asked, "Where are we going?"

The Black Crest didn't answer for a moment, busy guiding his skittish horse around a patch of particularly foul mud. Just as Elias was debating demanding an answer, the guard looked over at him. "The prince has retired to his manor outside the city. He wishes you to join him for a hunt."

For a moment, all Elias could do was stare at the man. He licked his lips, immediately regretting it when the icy wind dried them, chapping the thin skin further. Breathing deeply, he said, "Surely His Highness meant for you to convey his summons this evening when I returned from my post?"

After all the importance Malitech had put on Elias' new job, it seemed impossible that he would drag him away from it just to go hunting. The prince had dozens of admirers, all of whom would be thrilled at such an invitation. Certainly it couldn't be because the prince lacked company.

"No, sir," the Black Crest said, doing a poor job of hiding his own annoyance. "The prince wished you to join him at your earliest convenience."

More like his earliest convenience. Elias sighed, pulling his foot from the stirrup for a moment to stretch his knee out. That did nothing to alleviate the ache already throbbing between the bones.

The guard led them down an alley barely wide enough to allow the horses as they started to wind more toward the south. Elias rode in silence, sinking into his thoughts again. Really there were only two options to ponder over concerning his summons. Either the prince was plotting something he didn't want to risk being overheard by castle staff, or he was about to host one of his famous fetes, kicking it off with the hunt the guard had mentioned.

Or...he really did know that Elias had let Cassia go free and he was currently riding toward a very painful death.

That didn't bear thinking on, and Elias jerked his mind back to the first couple options.

Really both were likely options. It had been weeks since the last celebration lorded over by the prince, and Elias was sure there was some minor holy day Malitech could use as an excuse for the debauchery he and his followers so reveled in. As far as the other... Malitech had been talking more and more of Marcus lately—he often complained of his vicious younger brother, claiming he was willing to take even more extreme measures than Malitech himself to gain the throne.

While Elias doubted the overall veracity of that—he'd never seen any evidence that the younger prince hungered after the throne as Malitech did—he couldn't help but believe that Marcus would impede Malitech's own bid if he could. 

Marcus was a vengeful creature, and Malitech had never been kind to his younger brother. Elias could fully believe that Marcus would undermine Malitech simply to spite him, even if it meant helping their sister to the throne.

Retreating to his manor house beyond the city walls would certainly be justified if he really was plotting against Marcus. The younger Auralius brother was cunning and fearless and frankly always seemed to know much more than he should.

Several nights over the past week, Malitech had ranted about the sheer number of spies his brother employed throughout the palace. Elias had been subjected to discussions containing not a few bloody solutions to this problem as Malitech raged over how the ranks of the servants and slaves could be purged of Marcus' influence.

They twisted through the poorer parts of the city, Elias burrowing his face into the raised collar of his coat both to ward off the increasing cold and the smells of poverty that saturated this part of the city. At least they weren't as bad as they'd be in the warm-weather months.

As they broke free of the last row of teetering apartment buildings, they guided their horses along the road that ran right beside Levitum's wall. Grey stone rose sharply to Elias' left. The base of the structure was as ancient as the original castle and was about three feet higher than Elias' head where he sat his horse. Several more feet had been added during the Second Sorian War, a precaution that had ended up being unnecessary.

Now, the wall towered over the city, an inescapable reminder of Metian will and ingenuity. 

When they finally reached a gate, the Black Crest lifted the hood of his cloak, pulling it low over his face. Following his lead, Elias kept his head down. During the day, all gates in and out of the city were opened wide and mostly unguarded. With the amount of traffic that passed in and out of the city daily, it would have been impossible and untenable to check every person and wagon entering the gates. However, city guards still stood nearby, watching for anyone overtly suspicious and to perform random searches whenever the fancy struck King Durus to issue such an order.

They passed without incident and urged their mounts to the sides of the road. Elias grimaced as they were forced to weave between the graves. Burial of the dead was not allowed within the city—with the exception of royalty and great heroes of the empire—so generations of tombstones had cropped up just beyond the city's walls.

Macabre though it might have been to ride among the dead, it was swifter than fighting the flow of traffic toward the city. 

Elias held his breath as they passed the cess pits sitting at the current edge of the graveyard. The road dipped down the first of many hills that began to roll toward the southern horizon, and the Black Crest kicked his horse into an easy canter.

Swearing under his breath, Elias urged his horse to a matching pace. Elias tucked his free hand into the pocket of his coat, resigning himself to an hour's worth of wet misery. Barely had the city disappeared before the skies opened, icy rain pelting them all the way to Malitech's sprawling manor house.

By the time they reached the gates and were admitted, Elias was beginning to wonder why he'd ever bothered getting off a ship. One way or the other, it seemed he was doomed to be drenched.

Stable boys scurried out to take their mounts while a servant hustled them through the front doors. Elias' wet boots squeaked over the marble, nearly sliding out from under him. A slave girl's light hands settled on his shoulders and Elias dropped his arms, allowing her to strip his sodden coat away. 

Out of instinct, he turned to thank her, biting his tongue at the last moment. The bruises scattered over her bare arms reminded him of where he was. Of who he was with. Besides, slaves survived by doing their jobs quickly and quietly. Drawing attention invited certain consequences Elias didn't care to think about.

He'd be doing the girl no favors by thanking her. By drawing attention.

Water trickled down his face and he slicked his wet hair back, but didn't try to brush any of the droplets away. The rest of his clothes were just as soaked as his coat. His sleeves would be of precious little use removing water from his face.

"His Highness bade you join him immediately, sir," the servant who had brought them in said. 

For a moment, all Elias could do was stare. He couldn't possibly be serious.

Of course he could, a nasty voice mocked. The prince doesn't care for the discomfort of others.

Elias nodded, because he knew there was nothing else to be done, and followed the servant to a door off the main hall. There was a grim sense of pleasure as he tracked water and mud over the fine carpets that lined the floors of the sitting room he was led into.

At least a fire was roaring in the grate. He could also smell the sweet scent of heated wine. The promise of warmth pulled him forward until he was standing just in front of the flames. He held his hands out, the leather of his gloves long molded to his skin from the rain.

A cup of the spiced wine he'd smelled was suddenly held under his nose. Elias took it, luxuriating in the heat before he took a sip. Turning, he nearly spat it back out when he found no one less than the prince himself.

"Your Highness," he sputtered, bowing his head.

All Malitech did was laugh and clap him on the shoulder. "None of that. Not when you've come in such hideous conditions."

Elias gave a shallow nod, forcing himself not to look down at his soaked clothes. He must look like a drowned rat. He took another mouthful of the wine, closing his eyes as heat leached down his throat toward his stomach.

"I am sorry for calling you out like this, my friend," Malitech said, his hands clasped behind his back. "It simply couldn't wait."

Tapping his finger lightly against his cup, Elias gave a quarter turn in an effort to begin thawing the skin of his back. He kept his eyes on the prince, waiting for an explanation.

Malitech grinned. "A little excitement wouldn't be misplaced, Elias. Your patience is being rewarded tonight, after all."

"I...what?" Elias tilted his head, caught off guard. His patience? What had he been so patient about?

Better than having your treachery rewarded, he reminded himself.

Malitech raised his own cup of wine toward Elias. "You've asked and asked. Finally you'll know my most important secret."

Again, all Elias offered was a shallow nod. He couldn't offer a more enthusiastic response, restrained by caution and confusion.

Malitech turned to the servant hovering in the shadows by the door. "Bring her to me," he commanded. The servant bowed and left, closing the door gently behind him.

"Bring who?" Elias asked once the prince had turned back to him. Lightning cracked and the rain seemed to pound harder against the windows.

Malitech just smiled and retreated to a nearby armchair. 

Tamping down his irritation once more, Elias risked a step closer to the fire, taking a gulp of the wine. Steam began to rise from his clothes.

After an interminable stretch of time, there was a tentative knock on the door. "The lady, sire," a trembling voice called.

"Enter," Malitech called, meeting Elias' eyes as he turned to see this secret of the prince's. He squinted against the gloom, which seemed to settle even heavier over the room. The prince stood and bowed his head slightly.

A slight figure wrapped in black melted from the shadows, stepping toward the prince as he extended a hand. The newcomer placed a slender hand in his.

"My source," the prince explained, eyes gleaming. "The reason I somehow know of my sister's movements? The reason I know so many other things." He brought the person's fingers to his lips. "Is all because of her, the magnificent creature she is."

A shiver of fear ran down Elias' spine at the thought of all the prince might know. He passed it off as an effect of the cold and bowed to the woman.

"You are sure?" she asked, her voice unaccented and inflectionless. Cold and clear as ice.

"Yes," the prince said, lightly stroking the backs of his fingers over the woman's black-clad shoulder. "Elias has all of my trust. He will reveal nothing he learns here."

Relief and dread mixed in his stomach at that pronouncement. The trust of a prince was a heavy burden, the consequences of losing it steep.

"Very well," the woman said, sounding like she thought Malitech a fool for deigning to trust anyone.

Her pale hands lifted to shift the veil hiding her face. When the cloth was tugged away, Elias couldn't stifle his gasp. His cup slipped from his fingers and he stumbled back, nearly stepping right into the fire. For a moment, he was certain he was seeing things.

But no matter how often he blinked, the vision before him didn't disappear.

Before him, her skin snow white and eyes glimmering silver, was a creature he hadn't quite believed in, despite the reports.

Before him stood a death maiden, her teeth sharp as she smiled at him.

Honestly, thank you all so much for sticking with this book. We're drawing very near the end and I've been playing with a couple ideas, which is one of the reasons this chapter took forever to get out. (Also because I've been sidetracked as hell by the ONC, but when inspiration strikes, I've learned it's better to go with it lol).

One thing I've been playing with is actually splitting this book in half. Having book 1 end with Cassia leaving the palace and starting book 2 where part 2 currently is. Thoughts on this? I would really appreciate any input from you guys. I would possibly add in a couple more chapters to each part, filling in some things and expanding others if I split this book into two. Please let me know what you guys think.