No one questioned her about how in Tjarma she knew the way to the royal palace. She didn't realize the brides went with her until she crossed the trading courtyard and the stairs at the entrance. The royal palace loomed over them like a damning creature, the dim doorway in the facade's center threatening to devour her and never spit her out.

A crowd of servants, both with onyx scales and fleshy skin, milled by the entrance, muttering to each other in low tones—so low Hesi couldn't hear legible words, no matter how broken. When they came to the crowd's rim, she stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck up. A bald head blocked her view of the darkness beyond. Shapes and scuffles rustled inside, but they weren't enough to tell her what happened.

"Where did you learn about Mensa?" Hesi turned to Barteset, whose braids eroded at the edges because of sweat dotting her skin. "Who told you?"

The older woman's eyes misted. "I overheard it from the maids," she answered. "It's the talk in the palace. Something went wrong."

It did nothing to calm Hesi's heart. When she entered Berheqt, her assumption was proven wrong repeatedly. The Mayaware didn't touch the brides, not even to turn their heads in hunger when they passed by. Hesi let down her guard, let her shoulders relax. She thought she was safe inside the capital's walls. But the demons reminded her of the terrifying reality in the worst way possible.

Hesi didn't wait for the brides. She tore forward, pushing past the Mayaware, not caring if they were demons who could tear her apart with a snap of their jaws. She followed the stream of servants, hurrying towards a hall she hadn't visited before. The air reeked of iron, and sounds of metal slamming against stone echoed in the darkness. Everyone scrambled to where the sounds came from.

What in Qer's name? Hesi scampered past elaborate halls filled with stone statues depicting all kinds of Mayawarean myths. None registered in her mind with it focused on one thing—find Mensa. Find the High Prince.

She took the only corner at the corridor's end. The volume of the servants increased by the second, trickling towards the room at the edge of the hall. Mayaware soldiers, bearing golden breastplates over sienna skin and holding spear shafts with one hand, flanked both sides of the door.

Clangs of metal and screeches of stone strengthened the closer Hesi got. A wooden door muffled most of the chaos, providing the only barrier between her and the room's bowels. Was Mensa inside? Why were they hurting her?

Hesi blew a breath and trudged forward, shouldering past the ogling servants who planned on doing nothing. Her hand crept to the blade she always concealed in her clothes. When she got to the end of the line, an arm shot out. She whirled to find Kharta, shaking his head firmly, warning her to step back. Don't do anything, he seemed to say. Before she could open her mouth to ask a question, he dashed to the door. Two knocks resounded behind it. The soldiers snapped to attention, and one swung the wooden block in. Kharta ducked into the room, not a sliver of fear tinting his stance. Silhouettes writhed from the darkness, the sound of hurrying footsteps growing louder each second. Was this such a common occurrence that Kharta wasn't surprised anymore?

When the moving shadows finally let the sunlight touch their features, a gasp flitted out of her lips. Two slaves—human—emerged from the darkness, carrying a stretcher between them. Her heart hitched when her eyes landed on the person on it.

Mensa lay there, pale and unmoving. Her red hair, the once-luscious locks, washed over her body and face in a tangled mess. Her clothes, which she wore upon entering the prince's chambers, were torn and bloodied. Blood colored the cloth of the stretcher, so much so that some dotted the floor with every step the slaves took towards the crowd.

Hesi stood like a useless statue when the crowd parted. A wide cut ran over Mensa's body, slicing between her breasts and dragging all the way to her thigh. The bride's chest barely rose and fell. Her eyes were closed. She didn't want to acknowledge it, but the fear of Mensa not opening them again settled in Hesi's gut.

Mensa's legs were largely unharmed, as well as her core. Strange. Wasn't the prince looking to produce an heir? Why would he skirt around it and hurt other parts of Mensa's body?

"Hurry, and take her away." Kharta's authoritative voice rang through the brittle space as Hesi stalked behind. The human servants nodded at the steward and doubled their speed. She was about to follow when she caught Kharta's gaze again.

"Don't follow." The steward's tone betrayed it wasn't up for negotiation. "I will take care of everything."

Then, with a knowing look, he turned away from her. A message glistened in his eyes. Not now. But she glimpsed something else underneath his mask. Tonight.

Down into his basement of a room. They would talk then.

When Yobekh dismissed the lectures for midday feeding, Hesi brought out the map the lecturer gave her and went on her quick journey. The trading courtyard bustled with chatters, hollers, and steps from both human feet and animal hooves. Birds flew through the courtyard, twittering with delight and flapping their feathered wings. The faint smell of incense was clear, chasing away any memory of the tang of rust that had once fallen over this place.

She stalked past gardens and lush fountains on her way towards the last rectangular palace where the nobles' saplings resided. With some twisted reasoning, it made sense to slot the healing chambers here. She flicked her gaze towards one flower in the garden and spotted movement from a petal.

A bird flitted through the splash of exotic color. It was smaller than the average doves she used to see migrating across the clear skyline of the desert. Its wings shone like glass, reflecting the midday sunlight with every flap. A long snout spouted from where its beak should be, and the bird used it to sip the flowers' sweet nectar.

She tilted her head, observing the curious creature. She hadn't seen it before, nor did she expect to see one in a harsh place like this. With it no bigger than her hand and with its wings as bright as a butterfly's, it was an easy prey. Yet, it was here, living to the full, suckling sweet sap without a care for the world.

Whatever that bird was, she aspired to understand it. She must strive for a life like that for herself and for those who depend on her—carefree and without fear. Like the bird, she was more than willing to brave a path strewn with creatures stronger than her. And maybe at the end, she might pave a way for humans to flourish, instead of hiding in rocky mountains and scattered oases. In an ideal world, maybe it was what she was born to do.

But first things first: she has a friend to meet.

The Mayaware guards posted beside the entrance of the healing chamber didn't stop her when she came up to them. She tucked her hair behind her ear and ducked between two thin veils separating the outside world and the sacred hall of healing.

Inside, the corridor split into two more doors. Judging from the stringent cries and growls emanating from the dark entrance to her left, the healing chamber was to the right. She tucked the map back into the small satchel she pilfered from the kitchens of the bridal palace. The parchment crunched against the peaches and water skin, also courtesy of the Mayaware maids. She parted the curtain draped over the doorway to reveal a large room flanked by columns. Beds overlaid with white sheets littered the expanse in orderly arrays.

Water gurgled in her ear, and she turned to a small pond to her left. Lotus flowers, with pink and purple petals and dark green pads, floated in small clumps over the water. Mayaware servants dressed in loose tunics and distinct red sashes bent towards the lotuses, plucking one or two before heading to a work table similar to the ones in Kharta's quarters. The flowers made it into whatever concoction they made.

Most of the beds sat empty save for a few, supporting men with broken arms or missing legs. If Kharta were here, he would have shrugged and claimed those were work incidents and not the Mayaware getting hungry before dinner. One bed held the purpose of her visit.

"Mensa." She breathed as she tore through the room towards her friend, who sat up in relief. "How are you?"

The bride smiled. For someone who bled to death hours before, she retrieved her rosy cheeks and bright complexion quickly. "I'm feeling fine, Hesi. Thank you for coming," she replied. If not for her red hair, which was still limp and matted, no traces of yesterday would have remained. "What did Yobekh talk about today?"

Hesi waved her hand. "That is the least of your concerns." She dropped to a three-legged stool beside Mensa's mattress. For something made inside Berheqt, the mattress was thick and soft. Why couldn't their cots in the bridal palace be like this? How unfair. "What happened inside the prince's quarters?"

A frown crept up Mensa's lips. She tapped her chin, the loose sleeve of the tunic she wore flapping with a faint breeze passing through the windows. More spread of lush gardens and exotic plants waved outside, inviting them to peruse the wonders. "That's strange," the bride muttered, tilting her head to one side. "Was I in the prince's quarters yesterday? I can't remember."

Hesi lurched forward, the stool's legs creaking against her weight and sudden motion. "What do you mean?" She took the bride's shoulders with a grip, invading Mensa's personal space. "They carried you here bleeding from a gigantic slash through your body."

Mensa placed a hand over her chest. "That couldn't be," she said in a gentle voice. She didn't speak like this before. "The maids told me I hurt myself from a poisonous flower while walking back to the bridal palace. That's why I collapsed and woke up here."

Hesi's hands fell away from Mensa's shoulders in stunned silence. What kind of mule crap was that? Something hurt Mensa inside the chamber yesterday. Did it attack her because she wasn't compliant with his requests? What about the metal slamming against the stone? What about the crowd of Mayaware servants by the door? Had they been expecting something?

What would have happened if Mensa came out of that room dead?

Thoughts roiled inside Hesi's head. Something smelled of rust, and Mensa, with her not remembering anything after a serious incident, was a carcass offered to the vultures. Kharta would know something. He said he would take care of this. Nothing slips past him in Berheqt, right?

Wait. Was he the one responsible for this? What if he planned something and resolved to not tell her? Did he spy for the Mayaware all along and bait Hesi into confessing she came here to kill the prince? If so, why was she still alive? Shouldn't she have been flayed alive with her guts waving with the wind this morning? What did Mensa have to do with Hesi's mess?

"Hesi, what's wrong?" Mensa's voice shattered Hesi's line of thinking. She looked up to find the woman staring at her with concern painted on her features. "Why do you look distressed?"

"Do you really not remember anything?" Hesi reached out and took Mensa's hand in hers gently. "What about the blood? The stretcher? The human slaves carrying you? I was there. What the prince did to you was horrible. You could have died."

Mensa averted her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said. "Is that what happened?"

"Can you get up now?" Hesi jerked her chin at the bandages peeking out of her collar.

"Yes. The maids told me I can return to the palace after midday," the bride replied, patting the bandages around her torso. Struck by a poisonous flower, huh? Was the flower as large as a camel, then? "We can go back together. Just in time for Yobekh's afternoon lectures."

Hesi handed Mensa the satchel after taking the map out of it. "You must be famished."

Mensa peeked at the satchel's contents and smacked her lips. "Oh, very," she said. "I haven't had a peach in so long. Where did you get this?"

Hesi put a finger to her lips and winked.

Mensa was about to pluck one out when a shadow fell over them. A Mayaware worker wheeled a cart with a single bowl atop it. "First, good meal," the demon said, a feminine voice emanating from its throat. She was bald, though. "I send brides back after meal."

Hesi bobbed her head and scooted to the side, almost to the level of Mensa's feet. She watched as the Mayaware bustled with skilled hands, bearing a wooden spoon to Mensa. While the bride was fixated on taking it, Hesi caught a flash of green zipping from the demon's other hand. As fast as it appeared, it faded into the surface of the white goop sloshing inside the bowl's walls. She narrowed her eyes. What was that?

"Eat," the Mayaware said, adjusting the sash draped over one shoulder. To Hesi, the article was as impractical as using a fork to eat soup. Hesi reached out and wrapped her fingers around the first thing she could. It was a roll of bandage. The Mayaware stared Mensa down, the bride shirking back against her pillows. "I come back check. Finish. Fast."

At Mensa's vehement nods, the demon turned, bearing the wheeled tray with her. Hesi waited for a few moments before raising her hand in the air, the roll of bandage still clenched around her hand. "Hey!" she called, earning the demon's attention. "You forgot the bandage!"

The Mayaware paused and turned lazily. Hesi straightened from the stool and stomped towards the wheel. When she was near it, she knocked her ankle against the other, sending her careening straight into the tray.

A loud clatter. Something made of glass cracked and shattered. Hesi shook the disoriented haze off and scrambled up. "I'm sorry!" She bowed profusely at the Mayaware who blinked its slitted eyes at her, unsure of what to do. "I shouldn't have run like that. Uh..."

She crouched down and swiped at the fallen vials—ones who weren't broken. To her surprise, another pair of hands reached out and joined her in cleaning up the mess. "Fine with me," the Mayaware answered. If it knew how to smile like a human, it probably did when it turned its head towards Hesi. "You good manner girl. Thank...you."

Hesi gave an awkward chuckle. "You're welcome," she said.

She left the Mayaware there, confused about her reply for being thanked. If they were as civilized and superior as they claim, they would get it. She strode back to Mensa's bed and reclaimed her stool.

Mensa raised an eyebrow. "Are you hurt? That was a terrible fall."

"Eh. I'm not afraid of pain," Hesi said with a roll of her shoulders. "Shall we get out of here?"

The bride showed her the bowl, which now sat empty. "Think that's good enough?"

Hesi laughed—a misplaced reaction to everything she witnessed recently. "More than."

She helped Mensa get up on her own and strode towards the healing quarters' door. When she was certain the bride wouldn't collapse on the way, Hesi told her to go on. "I'll meet you in the bridal chamber," she told Mensa. "Don't get mauled on the way."

As soon as Mensa disappeared into the first corner and left Hesi alone in an empty connecting corridor, Hesi opened her hand and studied the vial resting on her palm. Green liquid sloshed inside, the cork at the vial's lip stopping it from spilling. She exhaled through her nose and clenched her fist around the vial again.

Kharta would know what this was, so she should pay him a visit.

In broad daylight.