The great hall's carnelian red curtains and patterned stone floor swim in my vision. Nerves crush my ability to think. The mental abyss in my head is worse than the first time Pa left me in Blackfoot Forest to fend for Ma and Kel. Then, I barely ate for two weeks. I dreaded bounty hunters finding us, Ma's sickness worsening before Pa returned with medicine, Pa never coming back at all.

Now I'm seized with the irrational fear that the Duke of Rathesyde will take one look at me, and realize I am no lady. One conversation with Jakut, and he will sense the man before him is not Prince Jakut of Caruca, but somehow an impersonator. Because without his memories, the Prince is pretending to be himself when really he has no idea who he is. In less than an hour, Kel could be taken from the fort and lying in a grave.

The Prince says something. I concentrate on the sunlight dancing through the windows, warm on my face.

You've come further than you ever imagined. And you will keep going. I am not a twelve-year-old girl left in a forest to care for an infant and a bedridden mother. Be the girl in the mirror, a voice deep inside whispers. Be strong and unfathomable.

Beyond the grand hall's far door, eight minds swoop towards us. The Duke and his entourage approach.

I straighten my spine and hold my head high, eyes fixed ahead. Tug and Brin stand somewhere behind the Prince and I, but I barely notice their presence. The fear I once harboured for them has vanished like a cloud of warm breath on cold air. They should fear me. I am the Uru Ana girl who will soon know her enemy. The Carucans believe if you are of royal bloodline, you have been chosen by their Gods, and will be protected above all others.

But their Gods are not mine. I will carve my own destiny.

Jakut is suddenly standing too close again. Mouth, eyes, lips filling my view. I try to ignore him, guarding my attention on the mind-world and the descending threat I will somehow defy. For Kel, for myself, for all Uru Ana.

"Mirra," he says, squeezing my arms until I look at him. "You did not choose to be here. I meant it when I said I was sorry for that." His stance shifts. "I wish to confess something."

My eyes dart between the doorway and the Prince. A confession? The Duke is seconds from arriving. What is Jakut trying to do?

"When I saw you in the forest with Tug—" He swallows, stress lines appearing on his forehead.

I narrow my eyes. Tug must be right. Jakut is trying to play with my emotions, pretend he's like the outcast who has no friends so that I'm more malleable to his needs. I'm an idiot for worrying his skills of deception would not get him through this. With the Duke to show him how, the Prince will learn to command a room within minutes. He will soak up his uncle's sense of entitlement and eminence and no one will see the difference.

Urgency ripples from the Prince as though what he wishes to say cannot wait.

"Stop," I press my hand to his chest. "Whatever you're doing, stop."

His jaw twitches and twists. "I was jealous." He smiles unhappily. "Tug has hurt you in unforgivable ways and yet somehow it's as though you've forgiven him. You forgive him, but not me."

Jealous of my relationship with Tug? Does he think me so gullible and needy I will fall for this? My jaw clenches and I am about to say what I think of him, when servants throw open the far doors.

"Prince Roarhil, the Duke of Rathesyde and Elise, the Duchess of Rathesyde." The announcement carries to every corner of the immense hall. The Duke and Duchess parade in, escorted by the Commander, three soldiers and two ladies-in-waiting.

I curtsey, forcing Jakut to release his grip and face his aunt and uncle. He has done this on purpose, but I'm too flustered to figure out why. His absurd confession has stirred a longing inside me I cannot fight. I am Uru Ana, privy to men's darkest secrets, witness to the memories that haunt and the memories that comfort. It is my nature to desire a deep sense of connection with those in my company. Besides, anyone who has spent six years with only their parents would be desperate for a friend.

Eyes on the ground, I remain in a low curtsey as the Duke and Duchess approach. The Duchess curtsies and her husband bows. A fraction of a second later, the Prince returns their greeting.

"Your Royal Highness," the Duke says. "Your presence here is a great blessing of Rhag." Jakut straightens and I count to three in my head as Deadran instructed, before rising. "We are relieved to see you in good health. It has been many moons since we learned fifteen of your escort had been found dead, and you along with five others were missing."

Five of his escort missing, this is something I did not know. I raise my head and meet the Duchess's inquisitive gaze. Commander Fror's memories did not capture her accurately—the radiance of her skin; the auburn highlights in loose curls now pinned in a high chignon. I smile, but a new unease settles within. There is something familiar about her.

"My injuries left me much weakened before the long-sleep," Jakut says. I stare at his right hand. The ruby-stoned signet ring he has kept hidden around his neck, now displayed on his middle finger. "I was very fortunate to find good care and good companions to help me heal."

His attention shifts and I blink back at him, offer a tentative smile.

"We have much to discuss," he continues. "But first, I wish to introduce you to Lady Mirra of the House of Tersil in Delladea. Her father gave me refuge in the Delladean fort over the long-sleep, provided me with excellent healers, and kept my presence a close guarded secret at my demand."

I curtsey again.

"These," he continues, "are her trusted guards, Brin and Tug. And this is Deadran, my old tutor, and now my steward. We travelled under false names from Delladea for my protection."

"We are honored you stay with us," the Duke responds. I risk another glance at the Duchess. She is looking over my shoulder, skin pasty with shock. "The King's soldiers scour the north for you," the Duke continues.

"I did not wish to be found," Jakut answers dismissively. "Has my father returned from the Etean front?"

"We expect news any day. We thought it would come as soon as the ice thawed, but we have heard nothing from the Ruby Court since the long-sleep."

A memory floods the mind-world.

From a high window, the Duchess watches a lone soldier gallop towards the fort. Then she is rushing down a steep stairway. She holds the child in her belly with one hand, grips the iron rail with another. She tears through stone passages, halts hidden in the shadows of an archway. The King's soldier is greeted by a soldier from the fort. Breathless, Elise enters the courtyard.

Her mind jumps again. She is sinking to the ground clutching a silver leaf shaped medallion and a signet ring. A gut-wrenching moan swells on the air.

My legs tremble as I struggle to sever myself from her memories. The Duke's mouth moves but I do not hear his words. The Duchess sways. I step forward to offer support. Her eyes flutter. She is about to lose consciousness.

"Your Grace," I hiss. Too late. She's falling. I try to catch her, but as our bodies meet, the gaps in my thinking connect and I jerk with shock. Tug! The Duchess is the girl sealed away in the fortress of his mind!

She falls sideways pulling me with her. The Duke lunges for his wife. Surprise and the force of her fall unbalance me. I'm tumbling into them, when Jakut's arms fasten around my waist. His chest crushes into my back as he holds me steady.

"Lady Mirra," he says, breath warm against my neck. His palms skim over my ribs and settle on my stomach. Through the fabric of my dress, I can feel the tips of his fingers, the rise and fall of his chest. I should play my part, lean into him, but I'm paralysed.

A lady-in-waiting skitters across the colored stones with smelling salts. She waves them beneath the Duchess's nose. Elise, lying on the floor in her husband's arms, opens her eyes muttering.

The Prince releases me and kneels beside his aunt. I gasp at the air as though suddenly free of a mind-numbing, body-freezing spider's venom.

Tug and the Duchess! He will betray us! Tug's loyalty has always been to the girl in his memories. Even if he doesn't tell his dear Elise what is going on here, his presence has destroyed any chance of Jakut gaining the Duke's trust.

"My wife is unwell," the Duke says, addressing Jakut. "There is much for us to discuss, but for now I hope you understand if I ask Chamberlain Velequez to show you to the royal guest quarters."

One of the men in his entourage steps forward and tilts his head in a respectful nod.

Jakut rises. "Of course, uncle." The five of us retreat, following Chamberlain Velequez towards the doors.

My throat closes like a fist strangling me. Tug's fist. I have guarded myself against the wrong man.

If I had my knives, I would use Tug as target practice. I would take one right now and spin it deep into his ankle, snap the tendon and stop him from ever walking with his back to me again.

He strides ahead of the Prince and I, following Commander Fror and Chamberlain Velequez through the austere royal gardens. Small-leafed berry shrubs arranged in enormous pots provide the only greenery. Eight soldiers surround us, and a girl, assigned as my maid, scuttles along on the outskirts of our group.

"Is the Duchess sick?" Jakut murmurs. He observes our surroundings with mild interest, though wariness pulses behind his eyes. I shrug off the question, jaw locked, gaze riveted on Tug's head which I would gladly crush beneath my leather boot.

"What happened in there?"

"I don't know," I snap. We are both fools. That's what happened.

"You're angry with me for touching you."

"I almost fell and you caught me," I say. "Why would I be angry?" I stretch my lips, flutter my eyes, mocking our love-bird farce. We enter a dim passage, and I quicken my pace. He doesn't try to keep up, but falls back into step with Deadran. I hope my behaviour will put off his interrogations until I've decided what to do about Tug.

I see nothing of the room I'm shown to. My only thoughts are of getting rid of the girl who unpacks dresses, fine linens, and undergarments, courtesy of the Prince. I pace back and forth before three long sash windows. Tug and Brin have an adjacent room, Jakut is in the suite above us.

"Would you like me to build your fire, madam?"

"I'm not cold."

"Then I will heat your bath water."

"No," I say. "I wish to rest. You may return an hour before we are expected for dinner." I hug my arms around my stomach and stare out the window, waiting for her to leave.

"Would you like me to draw your curtains or undress you?"

"I'll manage."

Finally, she goes. I stretch my consciousness into the mind-world and glean the impressions of six guards stationed around the tower. Tug and Brin are in the next-door room. The Prince and Deadran are above us. Satisfied, I creep into the hall.

Tug opens his bedroom door seconds after I knock. I sense Brin concealed behind it, no doubt knife in-hand, ready to spring.

"It is Mirra," Tug says. He steps out to join me in the corridor. Brin emerges behind him.

"What does she want?"

"I'll deal with this." Tug closes the door in Brin's face. His eyes check left and right down the dim, stone passage.

"There is no one to hear us," I say. "Explain what is going on or I'm speaking to the Prince now."

The black tattoos painted over his eyebrows arch upwards. "What's the problem?"

"You and the Duchess are the problem. She knows you are not the man His Royal Highness Prince of Caruca claims you are."

My words are like the false step that sets off an avalanche. A massive shift moves over Tug. In the mind-world, it's as though the high fortress walls crumble only to reconstruct themselves into a new maze-like formation. I stare at him in amazement. In my mind, it's as though the tattoos vanish, and I am looking at the face he once had. His true face. A man ready to die protecting the woman he loves.

"You will never speak of this again. It will not affect the Prince's test for you."

Tug's unexpected resurrection almost undid Duchess Elise in the great hall. How could this little fact not change everything? The Duchess will be in turmoil. She may concede to her husband's wishes to remove Kel from the fort. She will certainly encourage him to double or triple the soldiers assigned to watch over us. Getting to Kel will be impossible.

"I do not care about the Prince's test for me. I care about my brother. Your presence has made the Duchess nervous. And when people are nervous they are more inclined to stupidity." I barely stop myself from spitting the last word in his face. "Before she saw you they were talking about getting rid of Kel because of the Prince's unexpected and unsettling arrival. Now she will be even more agitated."

A door clicks. Tug's head whips around to see Brin peering from their chambers. Brin stares at Tug pointedly, as though bringing up a conversation I have missed.

"We should get paid and leave," he says.

"Leave with only half the gold?" Tug retorts.

"Leave while we still can."

"You're a free man."

"She is weaving shadows around you," Brin growls. "You're already different and her hold is growing on you by the day."

I swish forward, propelled by an inward burning to strike at Brin's unfounded prejudices. I grab the threads about his chunky neck and rip away the crystals. "These will not protect you," I say, dangling them in front of his flat nose. He grabs his knife and wields it at me.

"Good thinking, Brin! Try explaining to the Duke why you've stabbed me!"

"Enough!" Tug pinches my arm. I struggle to free myself, as he marches me to my bedroom. He slams the bedroom door and thrusts me down. I land sprawled on an embroidered rug, skirts creeping up my legs. I scramble to my feet, instinctively patting my hip for my knife and hissing at its absence.

"The Duchess Elise will not speak of me to the Duke or change her course of action because I am here."

"I want my knives back!"

"She has neither heard of me, nor seen me for twelve years. Until today, she thought I was dead. It was the shock of seeing me alive that made her react so. She will show no such emotion again."

I retreat to the fireplace, lunge for the poker. I am desperate for a weapon in my hands, desperate to feel less vulnerable. "Why have you come back from the dead?" I ask.

"Grow up, Mirra." Tug huffs and strides for the door.

"If you leave without answering, I'm going straight to the Prince."

He halts and I feel victorious, until he opens his mouth. "Five of the Prince's escort are missing," he says without bothering to face me. "Where do you think they are?"

"Don't change the subject."

In an instant, he has swung around, and is barreling across the room. I recoil, until I'm squashed to the wall, clutching the useless fire poker. Knife throwing and arrow shooting are not hand-to-hand combat, and I am no match for Beast-face.

"I'll tell you where they are. Dead. By his sword."

I shake my head. Tug has no idea what happened to those men. "Why would the Prince kill them?"

"No witnesses."

"Witnesses to what?" Frustration is sharper than any knife cut. Once again Tug twists my thoughts against the Prince, but I cannot ignore him. This is his world. He has survived wars, advised commanders, fought campaigns for the King. He understands politics and the treacherous power plays that riddle the ruling nobility.

"You have nothing to gain by telling the Prince that the Duchess and I once knew each other."

"When you were selling Kel in the pit, and a Lyndonian officer made an offer for him, you knew the officer was working for the Duke or Duchess. You came here to find out why. You came here because you thought the Duchess must be in trouble if she would risk breaking the King's law by using the talents of a shadow weaver."

Tug's eyes close, a beat too long to be blinking.

"I came here to get paid." The finality in his voice says he's done. Which is just as well because there is no fight left in me. Once he has gone, I sink into the armchair by the empty grate. I need to start searching the mind-world for Kel. Who knows how much time I've got before the Duke decides to remove him from the fort? But for a while all I can do is sit numbly digesting Tug's accusations against the Prince. Five of the Prince's men were not found dead with the rest of his escort. Where are they now?

Thanks again to all of you for being here. Wishing you a lovely week-end and see you on Tuesday. :)  (If any of you like Romantic Comedy please considering taking a peek at my new book THE OPPOSITE OF ME... Hugs to you all, C.  xox)