My head felt extremely heavy but I could slowly distinguish some voices nearby.

"She is only a child," whispered one.

"She was really brave. Stupid, utterly unskilled and untrained in anything involving battle, but brave. She did save me, actually both of us."

"You should never have engaged in that, stupid."

"Shut up. I couldn't have let you die, as much as you annoyed me, and you know that. We are in this together, and little Weedie too, seemingly," sighed Mairi, who's voice I finally recognized. "Why didn't you tell me? About what happened with him, I mean. I am going to kill him. It doesn't matter how much time it will take but I will kill him for what he did."

"Precisely that's why, you idiot. He is dangerous and I don't want you to die. Whatever happened was awful and if I ever get the chance, I will take my revenge, but it's in the past, while you dying would be an even more awful pain that I would have to face in the future. He could just call on the stone and you would pierce your own heart. I don't want you to die at all and even less for nothing."

"Your honor is not nothing."

"Honor is in our souls. Or do you also think that this is making me unworthy?"

"No... Absolutely not," answered Mairi abruptly. "How can you think I would..."

It was the first time Mairi's voice was trembling as if she was about to cry.

"So you promise me you will always tell me if you plan something? You need to swear. Like a blood oath."

"I swear by The Great God or Everything."

"Good." A smile could be senses in Chioma's voice.

Mairi sighed deeply.

"Honor is in our souls? That's a good line."

"It sounds... Hopeful. Zara told me that, when I was really sad and strangely it helped. It was a good thing to say."

"She is weird but has a way with words."

"Yes, maybe a bit of book smarts is not a bad thing to have."

"And cunning. I think I am cunning to make up for the battle skills," I said finally. It was nice to hear what they actually thought.

"Remember that cunning part the next time you try to attack a warrior with a butter knife."

It frustrated me endlessly that I didn't have any shitty reply to counter that.

"I just wanted to help," I answered almost crying.

That was a time in my life when I still cried a lot. Now I hope to have grown out of that habit.

"Mairi!" Chioma voiced her name in a plainly disapproving way.

"What? She might have died too and I don't want that either."

"I still need to get used to your really strange way of expressing feelings," I said but dried my eyes. "Are you finally friends again?"

Chioma nodded and smiled. With that smile I realized how much I rejoiced seeing other people happy and how much the proximity of persons my age lacked before my time there. Despite having lost most of the privileges that status brings I had also found a strange type of happiness at the priory.

My arm didn't hurt anymore, which was strange, it was a bit bruised but not broken anymore. The White Grace must have healed it but it seems she didn't heal everyone, just a few.

Since I wasn't wounded I had to return to classes and chores the same day.

The first thing I noticed was that there were men inside the monastery. At first it came as a shock, thinking we were attacked again but then I realized they were dressed differently and their clothes were familiar. They were wearing the blue and golden uniforms of the Imperial Guards.

The Red Gate was being rebuild and soldiers were now guarding both entries and patrolling along the walls.

I was not the only one taken aback by this change. The older sisters were eyeing the soldiers almost frightened and concerned. It dawned on me that most of them haven't seen a male in a very long time. Most of the girls were frightened too but some were looking at them with curiosity.

My father had his own guards, called The Purple Cloaks, that were watching over Seaheaven,  the palace of the Alsayid and his person. By seeing the Imperial Guard, I couldn't help thinking what became of my father's soldiers, if the new Alsayid kept them and who the new Alsayid might be. My father was the seventh of his family that beared this title, one could call it a dynasty, one that I helped shatter.

Besides the Purple cloaks were The Black Fifty, the best soldiers of the realm that were never taking their face cover off in public, the Emperor's personal guard, selected from the Black Fifty when the occasion required it and The Elite Five. The Elite Five were the very best fighters, strong magicians and vicious soldiers. They were rarely in the capital, almost always on a mission or in battle but every little boy wanted to be them. I had never seen them, as I was almost never at court, but the stories I have heard, mostly from servants, made them close to legendary creatures.

It was certain that besides power, The White Grace also held influence at court because the Imperial Guard didn't come to just anybody's aid. They were part of the army of The Emperor and not any of the low division, judging by the numbers and letters embroider on their shoulders and chests. Some of them even had magic.

That day I had breakfast and dinner duty, the first with Fera and the second with Salma since many girls were still hurt.

I was the person Fera was most talkative with. She had days when she was quite keen on talking unlike one would expect when seeing her around most people. Sometimes she inquired about my past life and I felt bad for not trusting her enough to share my story, so I tried to be as vague as possible without lying. I had trusted Mairi with my secret and I still wasn't entirely sure it had been a good idea.

Mairi wouldn't say anything, she didn't so far, and she owed me, but Fera was thriving on silent gossip. It was the one thing that gave her advantages in the priory, the fact that she knew mostly everything about anybody. Life was hard and she was low born so I didn't blame her.

That day, however, she was more silent than usual, so silent it felt wrong. She had dropped cutlery twice while washing it and even one plate, that shattered on the ground. That usually meant a beating and Fera tried mostly very hard to avoid those.

"Are you alright?" I asked in the end. "Were you frightened last night?" That question wasn't maybe the most natural to ask but she didn't look hurt. The chores those days were assigned to mostly highborn girls because the others were hurt in the fight, but she wasn't. Seemingly she was the only lucky one of the older low born girls who wasn't hurt noticeably.

I couldn't help finding it odd. Fera wasn't the best fighter, according to Mairi, but not the worst either; she was again being unremarkable, like in everything she did. I thought maybe it was on purpose and it wasn't a bad strategy if you didn't want to receive beatings.

Maybe in front of the real battle she froze and went into hiding. I did so too, unfortunately. I wouldn't blame her; killing actual people is just awful and frightening.

"I will go get the meat from the pantry."

"No! I do that!" said Fera hastily.

"It's fine. I can do that. It's not so heavy."

"I do it!" answered Fera abruptly.

I just gave in but couldn't help finding it odd. Again. She was never dying to do more work than she had to.

The odd behavior continued when she didn't eat up at breakfast even if we had less food than usual or when she insisted to finish the cleaning of the kitchen alone.

"Are you alright?" I ask her again while we were walking to bring food to the imperial soldiers. The slight tremor of her hands on the handles of the basket made me nervous too.

Once there, we had to feed them too, but they were not allowed inside the priory building.

"They are not going to hurt us," I whispered to reassure her, even if I wasn't really sure about that myself.

It looked like she wasn't paying me any attention, the same Fera who was always silently paying attention to everything.

I would have liked to push, but I remembered all my secrets and the fact that I would have liked to keep them and not be harassed into revealing anything.

The Red Gate was standing again when evening fell.

On my way to dinner duty, I caught a glimpse of The White Grace. I expected her to look tired and concerned but her face displayed muffled anger and she was commanding the imperial soldiers as if she held even more authority than a general.

"Zaretha!"

She caught me staring. I approached her sheepishly regretting having been so obvious.

"Yes, your Grace."

"Why did you leave the room during the assault?"

I wasn't sure what to answer so I said the truth.

"I didn't want to be treated differently. I didn't want to survive while the others might die."

"Child, you are different. Don't ever do that again or I will have to enforce a command on you."

I just bowed my head and walked away.

There were going to pass several star circles till I would get to know how such a comand feels.

Salma met me in the kitchen and we prepared the meals in silence. Fera offered again to help even if it wasn't her turn.

I started thinking that maybe she was feeling guilty for having fled the fight.

Salma was terribly silent too that day. She seemed pale and troubled, eating barely.

"Fera, bring the food out to the soldiers," said sister Nai, while we were gathering the plates to wash. As badly as she had been hurt, she didn't stay in bed.

"Can Zaretha go instead?"

I watched dumbstruck. Fera never talked back, least of all to sister Nai. It was an obvious bad decision.

"Walk," said the sister in a mellow voice. Fera's knees gave up and she screamed in pain. The stone was glowing though her hair and seemingly hurting her badly.

Soon after, she started walking, with watery eyes and biting her lip till it turned bloody.

Me and Salma moved to the kitchen and started washing the dishes in silence. I had cut my finger while preparing the meal and it was still bleeding a bit and stinging when the soap got into it

"Zara, do you hear that?" asked Salma from inside the pantry.

"No. What?"

"Come here."

I walked towards her a bit annoyed.

"Listen closely. It sounds like a light whimper," said Salma.

Maybe the ghazal hearing is sharper, because I couldn't hear anything.

"No. There is nothing."

"It comes from the grain room. Let's go see."

Thinking about the past days it didn't seem like a good idea. Maybe the attackers digged now a tunnel. There were several scenarios building up in my juvenile mind.

Salma started to walk towards the grain room. I still thought it was a bad idea but leaving Salma alone seemed also bad. Resigned I walked after her.

At the door of the grain room I could indeed hear something.

"Maybe it's a bad idea. Maybe we should tell one of the sisters," hesitated Salma.

All the courage that was lacking Salma suddenly bloomed in me and I pressed the door handle.

We were staring mouth agape at a bloody mass of a human that was laying on the floor. He seemed young, maybe three or four start circles older than us, and very, very hurt.

"Don't scream," I whispered faintly to Salma who looked like being about to faint.

"Yes, don't, princesses, or I slit both your throats," said Fera from behind us.

I felt the metal under my chin.

"Fera, who is that?"

"Shut up."

"He is one of the attackers from last night, isn't he? Why is he here?" cried Salma.

"Because she doesn't want him to die," I whispered.

I didn't know what to do. Fera was trained in combat and had a knife. If we could escape and we would tell the sisters, he would indeed die that same evening, maybe together with Fera.

"Why are you helping him?" asked Salma. Her voice was trembling.

"Because they are my people. Wherever I go, I will always be northern and that loyalty goes above all."

Northern rebels had killed my family. I should be angry. I was also angry but other unexpected feelings were much stronger.

I couldn't take my eyes off the wounded boy. His hair was the color of gold and grain, beautiful even if smeared with blood, like the rest of his juvenile, white face. He was so young and seemed so helpless. I could be the reason for his death. I could revenge my family, just that it wouldn't be revenge, since this one boy didn't do anything to me. It would be just unnecessary cruelty, and first blood on my hands.

I stare down at my fingers and found my actual blood on them. Ironically the only thing I could think was that it had the same color as his.

"Fera, lower the knife. We are going to help you."

__________________________________

It took forever. I hope the next chapter will not take another month, but well, if you force art, just like love, it's most probably going to be crap.

Cheers! 🥂