2407 Xavem 16, Velpa

"Why in Pidmena's name do we need to import more jasclume ores when we could just use the ones we find in Aphesa?" April demanded, the recent proposals in the court meeting pissing her off more than necessary.

The summary of her current endeavor included these Advisers thinking it was nice to incur more expenses by way of importation and border tariffs. They have been pushing for it for the whole week that on the fourth day, April snapped.

Beside her, Elami's face contorted into an urgent scowl. "Sit down, April," the Potentate hissed, her tone reminiscent of a suncrown about to strike. "We get your point and I agree that we should be mainly self-sufficient. But I also hear a failing in the local metal we use to make our soldiers' armors."

April scoffed as she followed Elami's subtle warning. "It wasn't like we're at war," she crossed her arms over her chest. "Those buzzheads can hold out with just a few chinks in their armor. We have more pressing issues at hand. For example, the low yield of our fields because of the recent blizzard blowing over Aphesa. If we don't act on it by buying grain or something, people will starve."

Adviser Ardan bobbed his head. "Well, I'll have the disaster management department look into it," he said. "So how many tons of jasclume shall we relay to Avalora?"

April's vision flashed red. Her chair skidded against the marble floor as she shot up with force. The palms of her hands made a booming sound against the table when she slammed them down. A few flinched but most Advisers weren't thrilled.

"If you want to plunge Falkirta into territorial debt because of your skewed and apparently mindless priorities, be my guest," she seethed. "I won't be dragged down with you witches. I'll handle the grains. Don't dare get in my way if you want to have your head attached to your necks at the end of the day."

Before anyone could say anything, April whirled on her heels and marched out of the room. A snort of indignation burst from her nose. Department of Disaster Management? There wasn't even such a thing. If those fools thought of her still as the maige-cutter-bearing child twenty years ago, they were wrong. They had never been more wrong. April would scythe through their ranks like an unforeseen judgment. Just they wait.

Let them enjoy the few days of power they have left.

Besides, what's the use of jasclume ores in the first place? The last time April heard of those was from the ore records discovered in Avalora's numerous mines. Jasclume ores were malleable to a fault but they could be harder than normal pyxade found in the mountains of Aphesa once they're cooled to a certain notch. Sure, with the weather in Falkirta being blistering cold at times, it would be ideal. But should those soldiers make it down to Lanbridhr or Alkara, their armor would be only as good as cake slathered over their clothes.

It was idiotic at best. Plus, jasclume was a recently discovered asset, meaning its prices were still sky-high with no state-sanctioned prices yet. This could prove a problem since Falkirta's territorial coffers weren't that much and they're willing to use it for something else when a more pressing thing was served on a platter and waved underneath their noses.

The door to April's room burst open as she threw it inside with a shove. The maids snapped into attention, watching April's every move until she sank into the high-backed, cushioned chair in front of her mirrored desk. Her reflection stared back at her, her hazel eyes looking more stormy than they did yesterday. Something about the light in her room, maybe?

A set of bristles clawed down the length of her luscious blond hair. In the mirror, the familiar face of one of her oldest maids stood beside her chair and began running a comb down the side of her head. Was her name Runa? Well, even if it wasn't, April would resort to calling her that.

"Rough day at court?" the maid asked. Her black, tight-fitting dress rustled when she moved behind April to smooth down her hair on that spot. "You don't look too happy."

April narrowed her eyes. Out of all the things she hated, it was being pried for information and fussed over that trumped everything else. Still, maybe Runa meant well and April should just honor her maid's effort for trying to be friendly. After all, Runa had been caring for April since she was a flower-child. That loyalty counted for something, right?

So, April blew a breath and leaned against the back of her chair. The cushion dug against her spine in a comfortable force. "I might have pissed off more Advisers," she said. "But it's fine. They're being witches in breeches."

A collective snort erupted from the maids waiting for something to do in the corner of April's room. April had never been much of a jokester but seeing someone laugh because of her not-so-serious statement was amusing in itself. Still, April didn't feel like laughing off her rage just yet.

Runa set the brush down and her fingers began treading through April's long locks, securing it in a braid. To her credit, the maid worked fast, seeing as how she had been doing this for all of April's life.

"At some point, you'd have to win the nobles' favor," Runa said, her tone bordering on chastisement but still remaining respectful enough. Only veteran servants could quite manage that. "If not, you know they'd find a way to dispose of you, even if you're the High Queen's heir."

April attempted to whirl at the maid, to tell her off for stepping out of line but Runa's steel-grip on her hair in the middle of the plait prevented her from moving her head at all. Instead, April frowned, her reflection mimicking her sullen expression.

"I can protect myself," April spat.

Wisely, Runa didn't say anything anymore.

Not a minute after Runa finished braiding April's hair had the door to her room burst open again. A set of heavy steps that could only belong to someone April knew very well thundered past the rugs covering the floor.

"Hera," April pushed away from her desk and moved to stand up.

Her friend extended her arm at her, barring her from doing anything apart from rising halfway from her seat. "You might want to stay seated for what I'm about to tell you," Hera said, her tone grave and quite breathless. It looked like Hera walked from Azorgend's border to the Palace and finally, to April's room without stopping.

April pursed her lips and followed Hera's advice, her rear sinking against the cushions once more. One look at Hera's turbulent eyes, she knew it wasn't some news she'd want anyone to know. So, she jerked her head at her maids. "Out," she barked. The women got the gist of urgency from her tone and filed out, one after the other. That left the two of them inside.

April turned to Hera and raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Hera turned to April's bed and flicked her gaze back at April. "Can I sit here?"

"Yeah, sure," April waved her hand in the air, impatience budding in her gut. "Why are you stalling?"

The posts of the bed creaked when Hera sank in it. What was that woman made of, steel? Her dark brown wings unfolded from her back and relaxed against the blankets. April knew from experience how relaxing that must feel. Having one's wings always bunched up behind them was, in fact, tiring. That explained the tightness on their shoulders and the creeping throb up their necks from time to time.

The feathers those wings would leave on the bed, though...

"I found the one responsible for the murders," Hera said, resting her weight on the palms of her hands. "It's your brother, June."

April blinked. Hera had been right. She would've fallen down had she not already been sitting.

"I don't have a brother," April blurted. It's true. Had she known she had one, wouldn't the Imperial Palace introduce them sooner or later? Has the High Queen married again? If so, why wasn't there any buzz from the territories below?

An amused laugh tore from Hera. "That's what the High Queen wanted everyone to think," she said. "That's why she utilized your brother to kill off those investigators. It seems like his job is to get rid of all proof of his own existence."

April frowned. "How is it even possible?" she wondered aloud. A brother? Why would the High Queen want to hide his existence? And using him to get the job done? That's the most convoluted theory she had ever heard.

Hera rolled her shoulders. "Well, after your mother had you with your father and your father suddenly crossed to the other side, it seemed she found another consort," she said. "Unfortunately, he was human."

"What?" April shot up from her seat for real. A human Why would her mother fraternize with those lowly beings? Then, a bigger and grimmer revelation settled on her. "Does that mean he's...a half-blood?"

Just the word left a bitter taste in April's lips. Hera nodded to her question without a word, driving April back to her seat. Out of all the children her mother could have, why a half-blood? With a human, no less? It's no wonder the High Queen was adamant on covering this up. Things could get perilous should the Seelie Court find out of this.

Which brought April to the question, "How in Kelion's name did you find out all about this?"

Hera winked and laid a finger to her lips. "A hunter never reveals her secrets."

April gritted her teeth. A more serious question hung in the air between them. Would the High Queen send June to Falkirta to kill off Hera and April because of what they know? Moreover, how many of them actually know about this that June wasn't able to track down?

Just what was happening down in Lanteglos?

"What about my letter?" April perked up, her wings twitching in anticipation.

Hera tilted her head to one side. "I made sure it got through the proper channels," she said. "You didn't tell me Lanteglos, particularly, Edgerift had such a complex mailing system. I had to figure it out as soon as I got there. You should receive an answer soon, considering the time I took to get back on wing."

"Does that mean I owe you something more?" April asked in a sheepish tone.

Hera waved her hand in the air. "Nah," she said. "Just stick to what we agreed on. How was your progress on that part?"

Well, considering April hadn't even thought of bringing it up due to the jasclume importation pizzaz happening all week, she figured she wouldn't even get a single ear starting tomorrow. "It's going well," April said, the lie making her tongue stiff and her chest hurt. She hated lying but in this situation, it seemed like a better option. Or not. "I'll follow up next week. We have, ah...things to discuss in detail until the end of the week."

Hera bobbed her head. "Well, that's my cue to leave," she said. "I had to sneak past the front gate because the guards wouldn't let me inside the villas. I guess the stables are as far as I go."

April snorted. "Tell the guards to fetch me next time you visit," she said. "I'll make sure you can come and go as you please. This is your home too, whether you agree or not."

For an answer, Hera strode to the door and yanked it open. Then, with one last wink and a small wave, she ducked out. "Well, I'll see you around," she said.

Before April could say farewell, the door closed on her face, cutting any forming words on her throat. Once again, she was alone with only the pressing quiet around her. Without the maids, suddenly her room felt empty and somewhat freeing.

So, she had a brother. One who had been give the task of murdering a bunch of people for the High Queen. If her calculations were to be trusted, this brother of hers would still be in his teens and already wielding a blade and seeing horrors a normal child shouldn't even be thinking about.

April stared at herself in the mirror, the resolve clicking into place once she saw the look on her own hazel eyes. Runa did say she was too nosy for her own good, and her want to keep certain things on track as well as her strong sense of responsibility and morality would someday get her into trouble. Well, April was at this crossroad again.

This time, she took the road where thorns and doom awaited her. It seemed more interesting, anyway.

That moment, she decided she had to help her brother. Even if they didn't know each other or their existence. Nobody deserves to be treated that way, certainly not her kin, even though he was a half-blood. He certainly didn't deserve to have his existence erased—by his own hand, no less—and he might not even know it.

All these years, April longed for family and now, it was handed to her on a rotten platter. So, she's got to save what she thought she had to. If her mother was concerned about being deposed for having a child out of wedlock, maybe April could protect her brother here in Falkirta.

April clenched her fists on the desk, a plan already forming in her mind. Unfortunately, it was a plan where everything was dependent on factors she had no control over and one where everything could go wrong at the slightest shift.

Fun times.