Maren was on her way to the stables when someone behind her called her name.

"Lady Maren!"

She turned and was very surprised to see Lady Callista. She rarely interacted with her outside a gathering with the Tea Ladies or dinner with the royal family.

"Lady Callista, good afternoon," Maren said.

"Could I have a word?" Lady Callista asked. She looked as though she had been rushing to catch up with Maren.

"Ah...of course, I'm heading out to the stables, you're welcome to walk with me if you like," Maren said.

"I thank you."

"Is everything all right?" Maren asked.

"Oh, yes, very well, I just wanted to...ah....how are you?"

This seemed very unusual. Lady Callista rushed through the halls just to ask her how she was?

"Very well, thank you. Ah...how are you?"

"Oh, I'm just lovely. I just wanted to say...it can be very difficult being in the position we find ourselves in, can it not?"

Maren was not at all sure what she was trying to say. Perhaps she was seeking help?

"Ah...yes, I suppose it can. Are you having some sort of trouble?"

Lady Callista shook her head. "No, no, I'm quite all right. I only wanted to say...we had such a nice chat last week at the reception."

Maren did not think it was a very nice chat, but did not think it polite to say so.

"I'm glad to have the chance to get to know you," Maren said.

Lady Callista smiled, but Maren saw concern in her eyes. "You didn't...ah...you won't tell anyone what we talked about? I'm afraid I had a bit too much wine and was spouting nonsense."

Maren resisted the urge to sigh. It was clear why Lady Callista had really wanted to talk to her now.

"Of course not," Maren said. "But...if you need help...you can talk to me."

Lady Callista shook her head. "I'm well, thank you. Between you and me," she said, lowering her voice, "I saw that night that it could be a lot worse. I'll be all right."

Maren could not say anything in response, so she simply nodded.

"Ah, well, if you'll excuse me," Maren said, gesturing at the door that led to the path on the grounds to the stables.

"Of course," Lady Callista said, "Do take care."

"And you," Maren said before departing.

At dinner later that night, she felt very subdued. She had a feeling Kieran was doing countless horrible things to more than one woman. It was disturbing. She hated to think of others suffering, and she worried what Kieran might do to her if he had the opportunity.

"Are you all right? You're very quiet tonight," the Prince said.

She sighed. "Not really. I had a rather upsetting encounter with Lady Callista. She wanted to make sure I didn't tell anyone what she told me at the reception last week."

The Prince frowned. Maren could see he didn't understand why that would be distressing in and of itself.

"She said she saw that night that it could be much worse for her," Maren added.

"What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure exactly. But my guess is that it has something to do with the 'pet' he wanted to introduce her to," Maren said.

She shuddered. She knew what it all meant, it was fairly obvious. But she couldn't bring herself to piece it all together and articulate the thought.

The Prince ran his fingers through his hair.

"That's very disturbing," he said.

She nodded. "I hate to admit it, but as much as I'm disturbed by whom he might be harming now, I'm terrified he might harm me."

She wasn't really sure why she was being so open with the Prince, but it did seem like something had shifted between them in the aftermath of the execution. She did not feel like she had to speak as carefully to him as she had before.

"I know there's nothing I can say to make you feel better, I'd likely feel the same if I were you. But I can promise that I'll do anything I can to keep you safe," he said.

She managed a small smile. "Thank you."

She sighed. "Enough about that. I'm tired of Prince Kieran ruining things."

"You don't have to call him that, you know, at least not to me," he said.

"What? Prince?"

He nodded. "Seems rather ridiculous to insist on proper titles for someone who would like to do you harm."

"Ha... I suppose, it's a hard habit to break, though," she said.

He shrugged. "For that matter, you can call me by my name when we aren't in public. I don't mind."

She was surprised and not entirely sure how to respond. Courtly titles and addresses gave her comfortable rules and boundaries for conversation, she wasn't quite sure she was comfortable dispensing with them altogether. But she also wasn't sure how to communicate that without being rude. She thought it likely he intended to be friendly, but foregoing titles seemed to open the door to an intimacy that she found a bit frightening.

"I thank you for your indulgence, but I'd hate very much to be improper. What if I slipped and called you by name in front of the Court? Think of the scandal!"

He laughed. "I know keeping the gossip at bay is very important to you."

"Can you imagine the horror if the Court thought I was improper?" she said with mock distress.

"The palace itself would crumble. It would be nearly as bad should you decide to ride your horse astride," he said with a wink at her.

They exchanged a smile, and she was pleased he did not seem bothered. She already typically only addressed him as, "Your Highness," as a greeting—she wasn't sure she could bring herself to call him by name. Perhaps in time.

She considered that she might invite him to call her by name, but then also decided that as he was a prince, he really could call her whatever he liked.

"Do use formal addresses with Kieran though, he's terribly picky about such things," the Prince said.

Even if Maren had not already been told that by Alec, she would not have been surprised.

"I do prefer not to speak to him at all, if possible," she said.

"A wise strategy, to be sure."

--

Once the execution passed, it felt like a storm cloud had lifted from the palace. Donovan found that he was rather enjoying the time he spent with Lady Maren. There had been a shift in their relationship after their conversation in the washroom. He couldn't quite describe what it was, but their interactions felt more natural and less calculated. He felt more that he could say what he thought and less that he needed to think carefully about whether it would be an acceptable thing to say or worry about if what he said had been acceptable. It was a welcome change. He looked forward to seeing her, and he was finding, much to his surprise, that he occasionally even sought her out.

She had been at the palace for nearly five months when he happened to have a free afternoon, and he wasn't quite sure what to do with it. He could do some of the reading he needed to do, but he always had reading that needed doing and didn't really feel like it. He considered tracking down Alec, but then remembered Alec was out of town visiting his father. So, he decided he'd try to find Lady Maren.

He wasn't sure where she might be, but there were only a handful of possibilities. He was closest to the gardens, so he decided he'd start there.

He was lucky that day and found her sitting in the spot he knew she liked in the middle of the gardens. She was holding a book, but the more he looked at her, the more she didn't seem to be reading it. Her eyes were open, but they didn't seem to be fixed on the book, and she didn't appear to be turning the pages.

She didn't notice his approach. He thought about sitting down beside her and seeing if she would notice, but he wanted to avoid startling her.

"Lady Maren," he said.

She looked up and smiled at him. "Your Highness."

He decided to do what he'd been meaning to do for a while and bent to whisper in her ear, "Would it be all right if I kissed your cheek? For appearances?"

She smiled and nodded. He pressed his lips to her cheek and sat beside her.

Likely, it was somewhat unnecessary, but he felt it was better to err on the side of caution regarding his oath.

"May I ask what you're doing while you're pretending to be reading?"

She closed her book. "You know, you're the first person to notice. Or at least the first person to say anything."

"I had to look closely."

"I'm meditating," she said.

He frowned. "I don't know what that is."

"Hmmm. It's somewhat difficult to explain. I'm sure there's more than one way to do it, but for me, it's about clearing my mind and focusing...internally."

He thought for a moment. He didn't think he understood at all what she meant.

"Why do it? I mean, what's the purpose?"

"Oh, it's a way of practicing without actually practicing...it helps with control," she said.

He didn't understand what she meant until she began drumming her fingers on her leg.

"Oh, that's very interesting," he said once he figured it out. "And does it work?"

She laughed. "Well, I suppose it works as long as what happened at the Selection doesn't happen again."

"I see," he said. He wasn't quite sure he did, but couldn't ask that many more questions about the technical parts, at least while they were in public.

"How did you learn?"

"Karlyn taught me," she said. "I did it often while I was growing up, but I've been doing it at least once a day since coming here. I like doing it in the gardens because there's always something a bit distracting going on, so it's more of a challenge. I reason the better I am at it, the less likely I am to make some sort of error."

"But then, what happened at the Selection?"

She laughed again. "Do you have any idea how nervous I was? I would have been fine with either just nerves or just the sneeze, but with the two of them together, I lost focus. And really it was barely half a second, I've always been surprised you noticed so quickly."

"Ah...well, I don't know for sure because there are only three people I can compare myself to, but I've thought I'm more sensitive than they are. And I told you before, your face was something of a giveaway."

"Well, I applaud you for your lightning-quick reflexes. I believe they saved me quite a bit of trouble," she said. "In any case, how did you learn control if not meditation?"

He frowned. He wasn't sure how to answer that question.

"Practice, I suppose. Mostly, learning to use it deliberately helped. But I'll admit I'm not perfect at it. I don't know if you noticed when —"

"Oh, I noticed."

He chuckled. "I should have known. In my defense, I was very frustrated."

He didn't often lose control of his powers, but when he did, it was usually from sudden and intense anger, like when Lady Maren refused to walk in the gardens with him for the second time.

"Well, you surely noticed I did not lose control, so perhaps my methods are superior," she said with a wink.

"Can you teach me?"

She looked surprised. "You really want to learn?"

"Well, as you said, it's the superior method," he said with a smile.

"All right, if you like."

He stood up and held out his arm to her. "Shall we, my lady?"

She rose and took his arm, "As you like, Your Highness."

"So, is this something that will be made easier with brandy?" he asked when they arrived in his sitting room.

She laughed. "I can't recommend it, you probably want a clear head."

They sat down.

"All right, well, firstly, what I didn't want to say in public is that there's part of this that involves...connecting with the Light. I don't really know what that would look like for you, though."

He thought about that.

"I'm not sure exactly...but I think there's something...parallel maybe. Not the Darkness, but perhaps just the power itself?"

"Sounds reasonable to me. So, you begin by closing your eyes —"

"But yours were open."

"Because I've been doing this for twelve years. I started with my eyes closed," she said.

"All right," he said and closed his eyes.

"Now, all you do at first is breathe. It might be easier if you count your inhales and exhales, or you can just breathe slowly and deeply."

He tried to do that, but kept wondering if he was doing it correctly. Or if this was perhaps some sort of practical joke.

"How long do you do this for?"

"As long as it takes for you to clear your mind and connect with whatever force is inside you," she said. Her voice sounded very soothing, and he could hear her breathing slowly and deeply.

He tried to clear his mind, but stray thoughts kept popping up. What would be served for dinner? Did he need to send someone for more brandy? Did he have a meeting he was supposed to go to?

"If you find yourself distracted, just redirect your thoughts back to your breathing."

He tried to focus on that and decided to count. Inhale, one, two, three, four, five, six and exhale, one, two, three, four, five, six. That seemed to help.

After a while, she spoke again in that same, soothing voice, "When you're ready, try to find that force within yourself."

He thought it was his power within himself. He thought about how it felt to call the Darkness to his hands. It was something like a signal traveling down his arm. He attempted to trace that signal back to its origin. And there it was, like a pool within him.

"Oh!" he cried and opened his eyes, suddenly very excited.

And then he realized in his excitement he had completely lost his connection with that pool.

"Oh, I lost it, but I had it there for a second."

She smiled at him. "It takes a great deal of practice, but you have the idea."

"What do you do next?"

"Once you make that connection? You sort of...be...with that force. Maybe you talk to it a bit, or just exist in the same place. I usually think about how it's only going to come when I want it to, or sometimes just sit quietly. And when I feel like I'm done, I turn my attention back to breathing and away from the connection and come out of it," she said.

"This is truly fascinating. Thank you," he said.

He had thought he knew just about all he could know—or at least cared to know, he did not want to learn to do what Kieran was doing—about his powers. But Lady Maren had taught him something entirely new, and he was truly grateful.

She smiled. "I wasn't sure it would work for you. It's very interesting that it's the same in a way."

He thought so, too. The more he learned about Lady Maren in general and Light Wielding in particular, he saw how much they had in common.

"I suppose at the end of the day, it's all magic, isn't it?" he said.

She nodded. "I think you're right."

--

It was a few days later over dinner when Donovan realized he had never asked Lady Maren something he thought was important.

"All right, you read so much, tell me. What's your favorite book?" Donovan asked.

She looked thoughtful. "Fiction or non-fiction?"

"Both."

"Well, I'll admit I'm not really one for fiction. I've enjoyed novels, but they aren't my favorite," she said.

He was a bit surprised. "And here I thought all women read romances."

"I'm not given to fantasy," she said dryly. "I think you'd like romance novels, though," she added with a sly smile.

He did. Not all of them. He was picky. But he found them to be a pleasant escape from reality.

"Why shouldn't I? It's a perfectly respectable genre," he said, only slightly embarrassed.

Romance novels weren't very princely.

"Have you read On the Banks of the River at Blackstone?" she asked.

He was surprised. It was rather an obscure novel that was well over one hundred years old.

"I have. It's one of my favorites," he said.

It was a difficult novel to describe to people. The main plot was really nothing remarkable. It was about a farmer and a lady from the town falling in love, but running into obstacles with their families. But the plot wasn't what made it excellent, it was the writing. The author was extremely talented and had a captivating way of bringing the characters to life. Donovan had long harbored something of a crush on Abigail, the female protagonist.

"If I'm going to read a novel, that's the sort I like. It's very...real," she said. "The end, especially."

"You're joking, the end is the worst part of the book! It's tragic! William dies of consumption and Abigail has to marry someone she hates! I skip it every time I reread the book," he said.

She smiled. "Life isn't always happy endings. Not enough writers discuss it."

He thought that was a bit grim, but couldn't argue with her main point.

"All right, non-fiction, then. What's your favorite real book?" he asked.

She suppressed a grin. "You'll be scandalized."

"I cannot imagine I'll be scandalized by your choice in books," he said.

She looked deeply amused. "All right, don't say I didn't warn you. But it's Rights of Kings."

He nearly dropped his jaw. Rights of Kings was an extremely seditious text. It was illegal to sell it. The author called for the dissolution of the monarchy, since the right to rule could not be hereditary. He was put in prison for writing it.

"I take it back, I am scandalized. How did you even get a copy? The palace has one, but it's kept locked away," he said.

"I told you, my father's something of a collector. He accidentally got it. It was in a crate of old books he had shipped from the Capital. It must've been overlooked," she said.

He shook his head. "I'm uncertain if I'm impressed or horrified."

She laughed. "It's very well written."

"I know, I've read it," he said.

"And what did you think?" she asked.

She had to already know what he thought, but he would tell her anyway.

"Utter nonsense," he declared.

Then he looked at her, thinking. "Do you like it because you like the argument or because it's seditious?"

She laughed. "They aren't mutually exclusive."

He did smile at that.

"All right, tell me why you like the argument," he said.

"I should think that's obvious. If you accept the premise that there's nothing inherently dangerous about the Light, and I do, then the idea that the right to rule belongs to those most equipped to protect people from the Light crumbles," she said.

"Well, I don't know about that," he said.

He realized then he was treading into very risky territory. The author of the text didn't mention the Light at all, but clearly, Lady Maren had interpreted it in a way Donovan had never considered.

She looked deeply amused. "Am I dangerous?"

"Well, you could be if you wanted to. But no, I don't think you're dangerous," he said cautiously.

"And you've said before that you don't think I'm evil, and the Light isn't necessarily evil," she said.

He nodded.

"So am I the exception or the rule?"

She had neatly pinned him with logic. He wasn't sure what to say.

"I...don't know... I don't know anyone else like you, but I suppose I have to at least contend that there is no hard and fast rule on the matter. Light Wielders are not inherently evil or dangerous, but that doesn't mean they aren't. I mean, look at Kieran, he's supposed to have the power that isn't evil, but he certainly is," he said.

She smiled. "Look at Kieran, indeed."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Your point?"

"He is only one heartbeat away from becoming the next king. Just because of whom he happened to be born to be and not because he showed any capacity for leadership," she said.

Donovan blew out his breath. It had been so engrained into him that his family had the only people who could rule that he never stopped to consider it logically.

"I...well, I'll admit you have a point," he said, feeling rather stunned.

She looked smug. He didn't blame her.

"I thank you."

"But then what do you replace it with? If the House of Malen is not entitled to rule, who is?"

She shrugged. "I'll admit you have me there. It's difficult to imagine any other system of doing things. But surely, there are brighter minds who can or perhaps have solutions."

He shook his head, not so much in negation but in disbelief.

"Well, be that as it may, you've given me a great deal to think about," he said.

She nodded in appreciation, and they returned to their meal.

Donovan was amused. People didn't normally talk to him the way Lady Maren had. He found he liked it.