In Gudgeon, the walk to Theoden's cottage from the docks included passing by the butcher's shop, walking through a small garden grown by the old woman that snapped at anyone that dared look at her vegetables with interest, through twists and turns of abandoned streets, and finally, past the brothel that catered to many sea travelers.

The capital is vastly different. On most days, I take a carriage from the palace through the winding streets of Exole. Various beasts with pointed ears, fangs, horns, wings, clutter the street sides carrying bags, satchels, and crates of goods they've purchased, or are bargaining to local businesses. They wear dresses and pleated pants, shined shoes and top hats that stretch high into the sky. Even their laughter sounds rich.

I no longer have to scurry in fear of someone calling after me. During the coldest days, the streets are ghostly and only occupied by those rocking, clopping carriages. The horses breathe hot air from their snouts and keep their heads tucked down against the wind chill.

Today, I've opted to walk on foot. The clouds are heavy, but snow isn't supposed to fall until tonight. At least, that's what Theo says. As he cannot lie, we've learned to experiment with his abilities. Telling the weather, even when it hasn't happened yet, is another trick we discovered weeks ago. None of us are brave enough to ask questions that pertain to the lives of those we care about most.

I move to the side of the street to step out of the way of an oncoming carriage. The driver tips his hat to me and I nod back, dipping my chin low with a frozen smile. From inside the restaurant I pass, I listen to the strum of a lute accompanied by the sorrow bend of a flute. A crowd gathers around the stage, illuminated by golden candles, and sways lightly like the bare branches of the trees lining the streets.

Most of the city remains undiscovered to me. But I know that when I look into the distance, expecting to see sky and clouds, a stone wall is there instead. Theoden lives close enough to the edge of the city that the new wall being built extends past the pointed arches and tiers of the shops and backdrops a bleak affair. I'm not quite fond of feeling trapped within the city, but if that stone structure keeps Wyetta Terravale out, I can't ask for anything more.

Tucked underneath my arm, the bread loaves and pastries from the palace kitchen cast a tempting waft. I want to reach into the velvet box tied with a bow and snatch one of the cookies for myself, but the kitchen staff made sure I knew those were for Castiel and not me. Of course, they've grown fond of my brother's occasional visits to the palace when Reseda wheels him around the library in search of one book amongst the thousands.

His visits don't come nearly often enough. A small shrivel of me wishes I still lived with Theoden in the city and gained access to my brother and Chaska, my closest friend since our youngest years, but my job lies within the palace. Near the queen and her children and all the threats that ever come close to the kingdom. They target the innocent in tales of overtaking and woe. People like me will be the first to die, then the queen.

Past clothing stores, bakeries, a small library and bookstore that sells transcripts and tales from local authors, through a garden that isn't owned by an elderly woman with too much pride in her vegetables, and underneath a stone archway with a permanently open gate pried by a large rock, I turn down the street that leads to Theoden's cottage. The tightly compacted buildings of this side street seemingly close in on me, but the sky has never been more visible.

Empty clotheslines sway above my head and wooden bridges tied to each end of the street sway in the northern breeze. Their use isn't for the ordinary citizen, I realized days after we moved. The lowlifes and secret identities of the capital use them for swift travel, including a robber that nearly dropped one on my head as he was attempting to get away from capital guards. Eventually, he was caught and hanged for his crimes.

A cat scurries in front of my boots and hisses at me from the side of the alleyway. I frown at the fish carcass being drug behind a stack of wooden crates and continue on towards the wooden door cutout in a round archway. I take the two steps that lead upward and open the door without knocking, banging my boots against the top step to knock away loose snow and ice.

Immediately, my nose breathes in the scent of dinner being prepared. Perfect timing. Chasing out that strong scent of food, Chaska's laughter and Castiel's griping carries me into Theoden's new home. Instead of walking directly into the kitchen like I would in Gudgeon, the entryway piled with coats, soggy boots, and wet footprints is the only thing I lay my eyes upon. At least the wooden floorboards shine.

I twist around the cod wall, into the antechamber with three sofas, a fireplace, and two bookshelves framing the wooden mantle. A mirror catches my fast steps towards the kitchen where I spot my brother and my childhood friend giggling over bowls of a pale stew. Chaska sees me first and raises her arms into the air, greeting me with such a large grin I fear it'll tear her cheeks.

"There she is!" she exclaims. "We've been waiting for you to remember us. You finally dropped down from your palace stoop."

I roll my eyes and shrug off my belongings, first slinging the leather handle of my satchel onto the back of a free chair, then the velvet box of pastries in front of Castiel, and finally, the three loaves of buttered bread that the servants nearly threw out. Perfectly baked and the type that melts in your mouth, but they had sat for a few days. The queen accepts nothing but fresh.

"I don't have a stoop," I respond with another eye roll, and flick her nose. She dodges out of the way, slithering around my reach to grab a loaf of bread.

"No, you don't. But you do have access to food, so I suppose that is good enough." Chaska tears off a chunk and pops it into her mouth, chewing like she hasn't eaten in days. We haven't completely adjusted to three full meals a day.

Beyond the sturdy dining table and past the L-shaped countertop in the kitchen, Theoden's hunched frame studies a pot of stew. He swirls the contents with a wooden spoon, licks his lips, and furrows his brows. He's too focused on the craft of cooking to notice I have arrived for another weekly dinner. Weekly, not nightly. I can hardly make it out of the palace every night without someone wondering where I'm going.

"What is this?" Castiel questions. He taps his finger on the bright red bow.

Like Chaska, I tear off a corner of the loaf. As expected, the bread melts onto my tongue. "That is from the kitchen staff; they made it very clear that these are for you, and not me."

Chaska's eyes bug out of her head in amusement. "Well, Castiel, the palace ladies must be very fond of you."

A dry laugh cracks from his throat and he opens the box to a platter of frosted cookies, small cakes, and truffles. I frown; my sweet tooth needs relief. "Either that or these desserts are too stale to feed to the queen. They figured I would be better suited for dry icing, clumped sugar, and rat-infested flour," he mocks, turning up his nose.

Chaska laughs. He doesn't protest when she reaches over and snatches one chocolate truffle for herself. I am not yet bold enough to take what doesn't belong to me. Castiel needs all the food he can eat, down to the last truffle crumb in that velvet box. I won't be surprised if a ring waits at the bottom, underneath this all, from one of the many servants that has a crush on my brother's freckled face and pointed ears.

Once the matter of the box is resolved, Castiel goes back to tinkering with a pair of leather shoes in his lap. Stitching the sole back to the leather, my brother's hands amble steadily to poke the needle through. I consider screaming to break his concentration, but I am not that cruel.

"You know, Marie, you don't have to take handouts anymore," Chaska says. Yet, she continues to tear off chunks from the loaf. Her cheeks pillow like a chipmunk's. "Theoden has enough here for everyone."

My cheeks heat. I had thought nothing of it when I stopped the servants and offered to take what they were about to throw to the hogs. They had wooden carts full of scraps that no walking beast would eat, so the next best option would be to throw that food to the four-legged animals that inhaled anything in their sight.

The poor and weak in the capital deserved that food, but taking it for myself hadn't been so the hogs didn't receive a fraction of their dinner. I took it...out of habit. I hadn't realized it until now. Any food we received in Gudgeon, whether stale or fresh—which was rare—we snatched and ran with it. We didn't have another option. If we didn't eat that, then we starved and had to wait for the next day to find something to eat. Every chance was slim.

I suppose taking the bread hadn't been completely out of the desire to bring something home to Theoden so I didn't arrive empty-handed to a meal prepared by a man that needed to rest rather than cook. The bread, the desserts—I took them because Gudgeon's reek hasn't yet seeped out of my skin. My parents taught us to take everything we could, every handout. I just never thought I'd live in the capital and have to forget that advice entirely.

We never knew if we'd have enough. Now we never run out.

Chaska is already poking through Castiel's desserts, distracted. I drift my tired stare to Theoden in the kitchen filling bread bowls with a different stew and a darker broth. The broad meat chunks land on top of the vegetables. At the end, he tops each with a dandruff of orange cheese. Now the bread I brought really seems foolish. The stack on the edge of the counter, shoved into the corner away from prying eyes, is more than enough. Perhaps I should stop bringing what he doesn't need.

I chew on my fingernail and blink myself back to reality. Needing to focus on anything other than our sudden change of pace, I ask Chaska, "How is the border wall to the city coming along?"

She immediately snaps to attention at the sound of my question. Her brown eyes glitter with excitement. Either that or from the amount of sugar she is putting into her body. "Great! I spend most hours of the day stacking stone, but I suppose that isn't the worst job to have. I think they'll allow me to climb to the top before long."

Out of all the jobs Chaska could've chosen when we arrived in the capital, she had to pick the construction crews putting up the wall around the city. They hired her immediately as hardly anyone was volunteering to waste kingdom resources, lives, and money. I blow out a breath and say with a wink, "Fingers crossed."

"My favorite part is the rumors from the other workers." She leans over the table as if someone important is listening at this moment. Someone other than the familiar faces in the room. "They say Millicent fears her sister."

That's obvious.

"Most of the rumors are coming from the north," Castiel inputs. "No one has been in or out of the Void Territory since we've lived here, yet the land feels ripe and alive."

"Like something is coming?" I question.

Chaska completely ignores my question, and my brother doesn't receive the chance to respond before she's speaking again. A puff of steam rises around her shoulder from Theoden dropping another ladleful of soup into a bread bowl. He winks at me over his shoulder, finally acknowledging I'm here, and I offer a slight smile in return. Chaska is too busy peeling off icing from one of the small, round cakes to notice. Castiel was never one for sweets, anyway.

"The workers on the wall are fearful to begin their work towards the north. With each passing day, we're coming closer and closer to closing off the Void Territory, but not soon enough." Chaska shakes her head. "The peasants and those living in the slums claim to see shadows of a small, slender woman hiding in the shadows, almost always protected by armored beasts. Apparently, she only comes during the night."

Castiel and I scoff at the same moment. We share a glance. "That's impossible," we say in unison. The Void Queen thought we were twins. We certainly speak like them.

"The Void Queen can't get into the city," I whisper, gathering my courage to use that name out in the open. Chaska kept her voice down, and I need to as well. Listening ears press against the outer walls of the cottage and threaten us with treason against the crown. Wyetta Terravale's title mustn't be uttered in this kingdom or the next. Everyone in their right mind fears her. "There are too many patrols and she couldn't slip past the guards undetected."

Theoden appears over Chaska's shoulder and puts a bread bowl down in front of her. She practically squeals with excitement and digs in, taking a spoonful of soup before its cold. I watch her squeeze her eyes shut as she burns her tongue. I arch a brow, earning a warning glare that if I mock her again, she'll kick my shin underneath the table.

As Theoden returns to the kitchen, he offers a sentiment of his own. "We should never doubt the possibility," he points out with a waggle of his finger over his shoulder. Each step he takes is slower than the last; his body is catching up with him and rapidly decreasing in strength. I hope the capital adds a few more years to his life. "Rumors of Wyetta Terravale started long before any of us started paying attention. If we're to think rationally, it's only a matter of time before she tries to take the throne."

That thought churns my guts. If Wyetta makes a play for her sister's throne, what will happen to the royal children? I stare at Chaska, wondering how she can wolf down bite after bite while I can't stomach the thought of eating. Wyetta will kill them all; she'll make a show of it. If she isn't afraid to stop a raid for two nameless elves to instill more fear in them rather than changing them into Luminaries immediately, she'll do whatever it takes to ensure those royal children fear—and beg—for their lives.

Castiel raises his head from where he had been otherwise distracted. "How do you feel about that, Theoden?" he questions in a tone that belongs to a weak, scared boy. I note his grimace. "Do you fear the day the capital falls against her power?" This isn't the first time I've heard the hint of caution in his voice since we moved. My brother goes through the trials of missing his true home in Gudgeon to realizing we're much safer here. His business, paired with Theoden's, has taken off in recent weeks. Everyone needs weapons for hunting grounds, and their shoes need repair before they leave. Still, my brother misses the life he once had.

I don't blame him. But I wouldn't go back.

Our adoptive father takes his seat at the head of the table, opposite Castiel, once the rest of the bread bowls are handed out. I stare down at the chunky soup in front of me, unable to come to terms with eating anything during this conversation. How did an innocent question about Chaska's day turn into this?

"We are safe here in the capital," Theoden promises. "Especially with Marie's position at the palace. The royal children have taken to her like a sister. They'll protect her, so, in turn, they'll protect us, too."

I try to take that as a good thing. Chaska is the next member sitting at the table to share a knowing look with me. We won't require protection from the royal children like Theoden thinks. We promised ourselves from the beginning that if Wyetta invaded, we would do what we could—secretly—to protect our family and others without revealing our true powers. Our Luminary abilities would come to use, but no one would know.

"What about—"

"Eat your food, boy," Theoden interrupts. "No more questions."

I quirk my mouth to the side and Castiel places the pair of shoes off to the side. Like Chaska, he takes spoonfuls of stew and practically inhales them so he can get back to his work. Theoden's eyes blaze with fury when I don't immediately eat so I take small sips and bites to please him, even tearing into the bread to soak up the broth and meat juices seeping out from the sides.

We eat in silence until the only thing left on the plates are small puddles of broth. I take the plates and wash them in the sink while Chaska dries, humming to herself. Her hands are cracked and parched, not with age but use. Working on the wall has taken its toll, and I promise to bring her some salve from Gustus's chambers that he claims to work wonders on brittle skin.

Castiel and I relocate to the antechamber to reminisce on old times. He tells me how he had a run-in with one of the richest men in the capital. He needed a pair of boots repaired, and my brother got right on it. I've never seen him speak about something with such vigor in his eyes.

Shortly after eating half the box of pastries, Chaska knocked out on the sofa and didn't rise by the time I shrugged my coat back on. I long to stay, to spend more time with my family, but the day is fading into night and I must return home to the palace. If only I had bothered to snag a carriage from the royal grounds so I don't have to trek back on a full stomach.

I kiss Theoden on the cheek and he asks that I maintain safety on my walk back to the palace. I always do. I ruffle Castiel's hair in passing but he's finishing his shoes so his focus won't rise until everything is perfect. Looking down at Chaska, I shake my head. Her mouth hangs open, framed with powdered sugar and a stain of chocolate in the corner.

Before I disappear into the entryway, I memorize my relaxed family one last time. In Gudgeon, we warned each other to be safe before stepping outside the door. Always carry a weapon, look over your shoulder, don't make yourself look too valuable. Now they hardly offer me farewell. I smile to myself and slide my hand along the wall, memorizing the rough bumps and ridges of the cod foundation.

I pass the shuttered windows of Theoden's shop two doors down, and for the sake of telling him I was here, I stick a flower in the handle for him to find tomorrow morning. A promise that the sun will rise and everything will be all right.