"So, you are the guard Prince Jungkook spoke of yesterday?"

Two couldn't place it, but perhaps it was his voice. Out of the seven princes, Namjoon was the most menacing. And after long consideration, Two decided it was because of his beguiling voice that delivered all his words with power and authority.

Standing behind Jungkook's chair in the great hall, Two tried to hide her instinctive smile—a habit she fell back on when placed in awkward situations. And the one she was in was more than awkward; it was horrific. "I hope he did not speak ill of me in my absence."

Two grinned—wide, so widely that her eyes closed as she turned to Jungkook, who refused to meet her gaze. If he was the one to drag her to this damn council of war, the least he could do was look at her, but there was something about courtesy and manners and other things of that nature. Honestly, she was still wrapping her head around how she got here to think about anything else.

Yesterday, after Jungkook had failed to break the blood contract, there was a moment of silence. It wasn't uncomfortable or awkward or pleasant or calm. It was a silent tension before the arrival of a hurricane. Two had stared at Jungkook—whom she had entrusted with her life. All that came out of her mouth was—"Is this a joke to you?"

The fear was visible in Jungkook's quaking eyes that darted away from Two's but ended back where they started. He gulped. "I'm truly sorry."

The last thing Two wanted was an apology. Infuriated was a word. So was enraged. But those words didn't capture the budding hatred in Two's chest that cultivated itself in the seeds of betrayal and blossomed in the rains of despair. Blood still traced her right arm, reminding Two there was a chain shackling her to Jungkook, to a life of continued enslavement.

She was an assassin, so she was aware of the cruelty of this world, was a vassal carrying out its ruination. But she didn't expect Jungkook—the kind-hearted, innocent, foolish boy—to be anything like the people who dwelled close to that cruelty.

She didn't expect him to be like her.

Her hands twitched, and she wanted to kill him, pick the knife from the floor and stab him as many times as she could before the life faded from his eyes. But what she did was much more satisfying.

Wrapping her hands around his throat, she slammed him against the wall and squeezed. Under Lucius, she had learned many different ways to murder with and without her elements. And after using most of the techniques he taught her, she found strangulation to be the most disturbing. It was the only method up close and personal, her hands on her victim's neck, their pulse under her fingers. Beating. Slowing. Dying. She could see it in their eyes, their vibrant life dulling and ebbing away as a haze settled over their features and carried them to the After. She could feel it with the palm of her hands, the struggle and beat of a heart pausing to never start again.

Watching such a painful death was disgusting because murder was not an act she enjoyed. So it was rare she found herself strangling someone to death unless absolutely necessary.

However, with Jungkook, it was different. More often than not, her targets were people Two had never met, people she would never care for, so killing them wasn't personal: it didn't have to be. But she knew Jungkook, had trusted him. This was personal. And blood contract be damned, she was too outraged to even realize she couldn't breathe.

Jungkook thrashed in her hold, smacking at her wrists, but Two didn't relent. An annoying green glow emanated from his pendant, and before it could act up, she snapped the chain off of his neck and threw it far behind her.

"You thought the blood contract would stop me from killing you when I wanted?" She tried to spit the words out in a snarl, but they came out in a wheeze. That was when the realization dawned on her: she couldn't breathe. But instead of giving her an incentive to let Jungkook go, it only spurred her on because, if she was dying, so was he.

Two heard the ends of a few phrases she thought were "stop" or "please," but that didn't deter her. All she thought about was how she should have killed this fool of a prince the first time she had met him. If she had, she wouldn't be tied to a blood contract. She wouldn't be back in Umbra. She wouldn't be dancing around like a dog. She wouldn't—

She flinched. She wouldn't be alive.

Slowly, her fingers around his neck loosened. Once her hand fell to her side, Jungkook sagged to the floor, coughing and sputtering. Two gasped for air, too, but her heavy thoughts were distracting enough for her not to notice.

"I apologize," Jungkook croaked, massaging his neck. "I didn't know. I didn't know. I only followed what Snow told me. I didn't know. I'm sorry."

He continued repeating the same sentences again and again as Two stood over him, unable to comprehend what she had almost done.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. You have to believe me, Two. I'm sorry." By now, he was sobbing, choking over his words. "I really didn't know. I'm sorry. Please. Please don't kill me. I only followed what Snow told me."

Snowalaine? Turning her right arm over, Two studied the blood contract. What did Jungkook say? It differed from the one used on slaves and was similar to the one Vilyra of Vita formed with the goddess Navaera? "Princeling, Lady Snowalaine was the one who sealed this contract between us, yes?"

He paused, and something flickered over his face. Realization. Worry. Desperation. "It was Snow's idea, but there is no need to—"

"You don't have to lie." Two thought about adding a because I don't plan to hurt her, but she couldn't guarantee that. "All I want to know is if Lady Snowalaine Quintess formed the contract."

With quivering lips, Jungkook nodded ever so slightly. Anger boiled from within Two as she ran a hand over her face, lightning licking up her arms. Yelling, she flung a streak of pure lightning over Jungkook's head. It sliced a deep gash into the wall, and Jungkook covered his mouth, stifling a scream.

"That bitch," Two hissed, her arm thrumming with raw electricity. "That lying bitch."

I can break you from the contract. I'm the one who sealed it.

"Shit," Two mumbled.

"I should have known," Jungkook whispered, his eyes downcast. "I should have realized Snow wouldn't trust me. Or you."

He looked disheartened, his head lowered, his lips dipped into a frown. The faint outlines of a nasty bruise colored his neck and made Two avert her gaze to a random spot on the wall.

"I should have noticed sooner than you." Because Two is an assassin of the Lotus. Or was. The title didn't suit her anymore since the weapon she was honed into dulled each passing day. "But there is nothing to gain with remorse." Kneeling, she came to eye level with Jungkook. If he couldn't break the blood contract, there was only one road ahead of her. "You said you needed my help?"

With that, a strategy was set. Jungkook had explained the basics of the courtesies she should respect during the council of war. However, most of what he said went in one ear and out the other because what she needed wasn't a lesson but a hope that the other princes would believe a single word from her mouth. Based on how the meeting had progressed, that hope had still not arrived.

"Prince Jungkook claims you have connections you can consult," Jimin said, tilting his head in interest. "He says you can lead us to a rift."

If Namjoon was the most menacing, Jimin was the most skilled in making himself seem affable. But Two had heard what he did at the Royal Council. Glancing at a part of the great hall sealed with new brick and rock, she smiled.

"I have a. . . consultant in Medeia who knows a lot of everything. Even rifts." That was the first lie. Two had never heard of a rift until Jungkook told her about them the day before, and she wasn't even sure Nero had heard of them. Much less know where to find one.

"Tell us more about this consultant," Jimin said. His smile was pleasant, a kind complement to his blue eyes and a perfect disguise to hide whatever intentions he had.

"What more is there to tell? He is a man who knows much of everything. Is that not enough?"

Jimin frowned, but the one who spoke was Yoongi. His brown eyes were glazed with crimson, and the rage simmering off his skin was nearly palpable. "This is a farce, a deception. The Luxians are toying with us to get what they desire."

"And what may that be, Your Highness?" Two asked. Yoongi scowled as Two maintained her smile, though she doubted the polite gesture reached her eyes. "Lux wants what all the other kingdoms want. The Demon Days is a tragic history no one wishes to repeat, and Prince Jungkook seeks to pursue the best course of action. Just because we have differing opinions does not make us your enemy."

There was something peculiar about Yoongi, a deep-rooted feeling that Two couldn't quite place. She searched for it in his eyes but found nothing. It seemed as if he did the same to her.

"There is no need or time for antagonism between us," Hoseok said. "All we want to know is if this consultant of yours can lead us to a rift." He was the most sincere of the bunch. In fact, it was his sincerity that dragged him down.

"We have to reach Medeia to figure that out."

Instead of the expected frown, Hoseok chuckled. "Then perhaps you can disclose his name."

"Nero Daryxias. He owns an underground pub in Medeia. As you can assume, he hears everything from the foods the neighbors eat to the women the nobles sleep with. And since he was an adventurer himself, he knows the land well enough to guide us to a rift."

"An interesting fellow," Hoseok mused, resting his chin on his clasped hands. "And how about yourself. All we know about you is that you are a guard serving Prince Jungkook."

Two silently appreciated the obscurity surrounding her, glad that Jungkook didn't make a story on the spot. "Call me Two."

Hoseok raised a brow. "No name?"

"Just Two."

Everyone except Jungkook studied Two like she was a foreign specimen, but the pressure didn't bother her as much as it did the first time. Magic prodded at the edge of her mind, and with a sigh, she glanced at Namjoon. His attempts to breach her memories were unrelenting even though she made it clear it was impossible. Compared to Lucius's training, Namjoon's attempts were laughable.

"And I would appreciate it if you stop trying to read my mind, Prince Namjoon. It's scary to imagine a busybody like you running around Sapientia with a mind element."

A blush dusted Namjoon's cheeks—the first break in his impenetrable wall of emotions. An awkward silence passed, only disrupted by Namjoon's embarrassed coughs and Seokjin's restrained chuckles. No one dared to speak under the burden of the unease. No one except Two.

"If I need to prove myself, I can show you my combat capabilities. All we need are a few guards willing to spar." She looked at Jimin. "Surely, some of your men wouldn't mind sparring with me. Fist to fist. No elements if that is what pleases them. I have sparred with many of the Luxian guards in my time—elementals and humans alike. So if the prospects of my consultant do not appease you, perhaps my prowess as a soldier will."

The second lie. Two had never sparred with the guards or any outsiders from the Lotus. But since she couldn't let Jungkook traipse around Infernum with her life on the line, she needed to prove herself useful.

She had tried to convince him to abandon his helpless plan. However, when she brought the idea to light, Jungkook had scared her with a fierce determination, claiming he would never forsake his kingdom.

Though, from what Two saw, he would have to forsake his kingdom no matter what.

"Well, what do you say? I can prove that I am a sure candidate to guide you to your first lead and possibly Infernum itself." Lying only went so far, and as of now, Two was banking on hope from the Gods. "Would it not be reasonable to venture to Medeia and follow Prince Jungkook's plan? Imagine how long Prince Namjoon's strategy will take to execute. To travel back to your respective kingdoms by land would take weeks, if not months. Then, the war would be halfway through, burning through your cities and people like a wildfire."

Namjoon's face darkened. Another large crack in his emotionless front. "Are you implying Prince Jungkook's plan will take less time to execute?"

Two's fake smile returned to her lips. "The demons have crafted an intricate strategy—one we still do not understand. They made their declaration of war now for a reason, and they must be waiting for our next move if they have yet to bring the kingdoms to their knees."

Namjoon shot a glare Jungkook's way. "How much did you tell your guard?"

Before Jungkook answered, Two said, "Enough to stand my ground in a dialogue with you, Your Highness. I was even told that your replies are marked with wit that is challenging to match, but all I see are parlor tricks that take the shape of words."

Namjoon's face twitched. "Prince Jungkook, will you allow this guard to speak for you?"

"I speak for myself," Two said, not giving Jungkook the time to open his mouth. "It was you who turned to Prince Jungkook to speak for me." As an afterthought, she added, "Your Highness."

Leaning forward, Namjoon gritted his teeth but kept his mouth shut. Two was toeing a dangerous line—one that she could fall off at any moment—so she didn't dare shake it any further.

"I can prove my worth—"

"Sparring cannot prove your worthiness." Yoongi's voice was a gravelly rasp that traced chills through her bones. An unplaceable ferocity lay beneath his tone, unsettling her. "You can only prove yourself once your consultant helps us find a rift. If he cannot, then you are as worthless as Prince Jungkook's plan."

The frown grounded on her face felt similar to the one Two would use to stare down her targets. "If that is—"

"You are only a guard in this council, Two." Venom laced his words. "Know your place. All of us here can fight. Luxian guards are not special, and neither are you."

Two chuckled darkly. "Perhaps you will change your mind once you see me in battle."

Yoongi's lips curled into a cruel smirk. "You believe you have what it takes to impress me?" His eyes held a madness that she had only heard of in rumors. "Me, the Prince of Bellum? The prince of war?"

He leveled an unnerving gaze on her, full of unspoken threats. Two didn't falter under the tension even as the temperature in the room rose. When everyone else was unaffected by the searing heat, Two realized she was the only one being tested. And she was failing miserably. The princes watched her, noting each little action she made with narrowed eyes and slight movements. Even the quiet ones—Taehyung and Seokjin—were attentive.

"Where did all that confidence run off to?" Yoongi sneered.

Two kept her face blank even as sweat doused her brow. "Whatever do you mean, Prince Yoongi? My confidence remains with me.''

She heard a squeaky laugh, but there was no reason to look at who it was. She had already associated that laugh with the Prince of Vita. He continued for a solid minute, squawking like a bird, waving his hand in the air like he wanted to clap but refrained from making more noise. As if his laugh wasn't distracting already.

"Drop the charade, Prince Yoongi. A wonderful show you put on, but we all know you cannot hold a candle to King Kaitta." Seokjin wasn't fazed by the frown Yoongi sent him and regarded Two with his own delighted grin. "You want to show us your combat capabilities? Then why don't we head to the training grounds? I hear that the Luxian guards are forces to be reckoned with, and I want to know why."

Two scanned the faces around the table, searching for hints that this might be another test. Although the temperature dropped to normal, perspiration ran down her face. She glanced at Jungkook for guidance, but he was busy staring at his hands.

"What is with the hesitation?" Seokjin asked. "It was you who wanted to prove your skill in battle."

From his expressions to his voice, Seokjin was the most cryptic. Two knew where the other princes stood on the issue, but Seokjin was the only one she couldn't read. When it was time to vote, she wasn't sure who he would side with.

For now, she smiled. "I'll be glad to spar on the training grounds."

And that was her third lie.

* * *

The training grounds were filled with the clashes of metal and the grinding of boots against sand, reminiscent of the training grounds at Lux. But instead of watching the action from afar, Two was now at the center of attention.

The princes stood on the sidelines as her sparring opponents entered the ring—five Umbran guards. They were unfamiliar until Two reached the last one, a young boy muttering to himself and peeking from under the snowy bangs of his unruly hair already slick with sweat.

Her breath hitched. Nefrin Antaro. That damn sentinel she had shoved into the cupboard the day of the Royal Council.

Her first instinct was to wheel away and hide her face, but doing so would attract attention. So with no other choice, Two ignored Nefrin and turned to the other fights occurring around her in hopes that she wouldn't be recognized. Based on the distant look in Nefrin's eyes, he seemed too bored to even spare her a glance. Relieved, Two let out a huff.

Despite the sun beating down on her back, the cold breeze chilled her skin, seeping through the light tunic she had changed into. She didn't have any weapons at hand—even her elements were currently in their dormant state—but weaponless did not equate to defenseless.

The five Umbran guards grabbed their share from the weapon rack—some choosing a typical sword, whereas others mixed it up with a mace or a battle-ax. Nefrin didn't pick one, and Two duly noted it, assuming he was an elemental.

Once they were ready, they eyed Two's empty hands, an unspoken question. Curling her fingers into loose fists, Two shifted into a fighting stance, and a tangible resentment filled the Umbrans' gazes.

The noise around her dulled into a serene quiet. She breathed in a deep breath, enough to quell the rogue tremors in her body as the five guards charged with abandon.

They aren't aiming to kill, Two reminded herself as she side-stepped an ax swinging straight at her arm and slid her palm down the handle to twist it out of the Umbran's unsuspecting hold. The wood chafed her skin, and since the Umbran's strength prevented her from stealing the weapon, Two twisted the ax to block a strike from a sword and wrapped a foot around the ax-wielder's legs to trip him.

Once he was down and Two had the ax in her hands, the fight was over.

The only complaint she had about the ax was its terrible balance, but that was what gave each swing tremendous power. She smacked a sword out of an Umbran's grip and knocked another unconscious with the butt of her ax. The last armed Umbran charged at full speed, pulling back as he raised the mace over his head and brought it down with a powerful hit that blew sand in the air.

Two dodged and weaved, backing towards the edge of the ring when the Umbran swung at her horizontally. She couldn't duck fast enough, and one of the spikes around the mace's head tore the skin off her right cheek.

Blood splattered over the sand, painting it a grainy scarlet, and at the sight of blood, the Umbran hesitated. Rising to her feet, Two touched her cheek, and her fingers came back covered in red. Spitting out the blood in her mouth, she flinched at the pain.

"Pathetic," she said, rolling her shoulders. The Umbran guard lowered his mace, but when Two made no move to stop the fight, the tension in his arms returned. "Your enemy was distracted, and instead of taking advantage of the situation, you hesitated."

Two threw the ax far to the side, and after spinning in midair, it wedged itself into a tree trunk. As she approached the Umbran, she massaged the bridge of her nose, aware that it was once broken days ago. An idea flickered to life in her head.

The Umbran aimed the mace at her again, but she blocked it with her arm this time. Spikes lodged in her shoulder, and she welcomed the pain as she wrapped her fingers around the metal handle and yanked the weapon away. With the mace gone, she tangled her fingers in the Umbran's hair and kneed him in the face. A satisfying crunch followed by a harrowing wail rang through the training grounds, and Two didn't need to look at the princes to feel their unease.

The Umbran guard tumbled to the ground, cradling his nose, and his companions didn't dare come near as she reached for his shoulder and dislocated it. All he could do was twitch and make soft sounds of pain as Two whirled around, a wild grin on her face.

Two Umbrans remained. Although the original owner of the ax wasn't unconscious—Two could see his ragged breathing—he pretended to be, lying as still as possible. She extended her bloody arm. "So, who's next?"

With trembling legs, one of the Umbrans brandished a sword and challenged her. Immediately, she kicked sand into the Umbran's eyes, and as he tripped over his feet, she grabbed his face and slammed him to the ground. Taking his sword, she rested it over her shoulder as she stared at the last Umbran: Nefrin Antaro.

"And then there was one," she said, the smile evident in her voice.

Nefrin ignored her, his eyes fierce as he began walking in a circle. She followed his lead, and soon, she was circling him, too. His fists were at his side, and his eyes were squinted, anticipating her next move.

When her wounds began to numb, Two considered herself lucky that Faestuna had mercy. The torn skin on her right cheek mended together, tickling her injuries close as lightning sprinted through her veins. Beneath her soles, the presence of the sand made itself known in clarity only afforded to sand elementals.

To make the match fairer, she tossed the sword to the middle and kicked the other one next to the first Umbran she beat out of the ring. The mace was near the far edge, too far away from them to reach. As Two opened her mouth to speak, Nefrin wasted no time, dashing for the sword at an inhuman speed. The first thought that came to mind was that he must be a lightning elemental, but Two was proven wrong when she felt no lightning as she blocked his attack. One second, he was in front of her, and the next, he was gone.

Two looked around, but he was nowhere to be found. "What the—"

A sharp edge slashed her back, and another sliced a thin strip along her neck. Still, she couldn't see Nefrin anywhere.

Was he just that fast?

An invisible sword cut her heels, and she fell to her knees.

But that was impossible. If Nefrin was fast, she would be able to feel the lightning.

A swipe of air traced her ear as a sword slashed the tips of her hair. Even though her wounds were healing, she couldn't keep up. The other Umbrans weren't aiming to kill, but Nefrin was a whole different breed. He was aiming to scar, to maim.

And as long as Two couldn't see him, he could.

She barely avoided the following attacks as she analyzed the situation and skimmed through the memorized descriptions of the different elements, searching for one that matched Nefrin's skill set. When she came up with nothing, she opted to stand still and listen.

She heard her pants, and when she thought she heard feet crunching in the sand, she swung her arm in that direction only to be disappointed when the flat end of a sword smacked her on the back of her head.

Popping her neck, Two raised her head, feeling a strip of blood drip from her nose. Wiping the blood, she scoffed.

Now she was pissed.

Lightning crackled around her. The next time Nefrin attacked, she would shock him to death. Forget about sparring. This was a war. Tracing her arm through the air, she prepared to send sparks of lightning flying when the flat end of the sword slapped her across the face.

She was motionless, her fingers twitching as her lightning disappeared. Her words froze in her throat as heat rose up to her neck and cheeks. Humiliating. Utterly humiliating.

Two was tempted to create a sandstorm and pierce Nefrin's skin, over and over again. Scar him. Kill him. But that would end in a bloody mess. And with the giddy adrenaline cleared from her system, substituted with mortification, she felt the weight of Jimin's glare boring into her.

She was so carried away that she had forgotten why she was here in the first place. Furtively glancing at the princes, she stopped her hand from covering her face. After brutally taking down four Umbran guards, she fell prey to a boy, a dunce, an idiot who whispered to himself and couldn't stop daydreaming.

It felt like she was losing to Jungkook but even worse because she had a modicum of respect for Jungkook. As for Nefrin, it was near impossible to respect a child she had shoved into a cupboard. She locked eyes with Jungkook, who furrowed his brow at her and made faces, communicating in a language she didn't understand. And she didn't have the patience to decipher each of his nods and shakes and twirling hands. She was—

The pommel of a sword struck her temple, and blood dribbled into her eye.

"Oh, that's it!" she screamed, catching Jungkook's eyes before swirling on her heels. But rather than lashing out, she paused, thought for a moment, and turned back to Jungkook.

Two looked at his hazel eyes, how they shifted across the ring as if they were seeing two people. Not only her but two people. If Nefrin was a lightning elemental, she would be able to feel the electricity in the air. No matter how fast he was, Two could catch up, but Jungkook. . .

He could see Nefrin. She studied how his eyes darted back and forth from her to another invisible figure. Jungkook could see Nefrin. And it wasn't only him. She looked at the other princes, saw their eyes sweep the ring even though she wasn't moving.

Nefrin wasn't fast; he wasn't a lightning elemental. He was toying with her, with her vision, with the light.

The bastard was a light elemental.

The moment the epiphany arrived, Two began to notice the shifts of the sand, each granule rising and falling as Nefrin landed, his feet soft as a feather. From the right. Then the left. The front. The back. The boy was a monkey dancing around the field, putting on a spectacle, showing how well he could kick Two around until she went mad.

Right.

Lightning zapped through her arm and scorched the sand as a glass sword formed in her hand, blocking the invisible blade about to strike. She heard the beginning of a gasp dying in Nefrin's throat.

"I feel you," Two whispered, her eyes opened so wide they strained at the seams.

Nefrin pushed himself off his feet, and Two refrained from dragging him down with sand. Because she would do to him what he did to her. She would toy with him. Humiliate him. Crush his spirit until he was so tired he couldn't keep messing with her vision.

Back.

Two ducked and swiped her leg under Nefrin, making him lose balance before he jumped again.

Left.

Lightning sizzled as grains of sand levitated and packed together into balls that surrounded her. The balls of sand were heated and dashed towards Nefrin as they burned into sharp shards of glass. Two couldn't see the blood, but she heard the cries and cracks of bone.

In the next second, Nefrin disappeared and reappeared in front of her. She mercilessly stabbed him through his arm, twisting the blade and only stopping after he dropped his sword. Now she could see the blood—the crimson fluids dripping and coloring Nefrin's arm. The contours of his body shimmered under the glaring sun, and when whatever tampering he did with her vision wore off, Two smirked.

"Little bastard," she said as she kicked him to the ground. Raising her sword, she was ready to end the fight, but a flying ax interfered. Her sword shattered as glass shards rained over Nefrin, who covered his face. Looking at the direction the ax came from, she saw Jimin.

His hand was resting on an open water skin, his silver hair billowing in the wind with the gray drape covering the right side of his body. "That is enough."

Her blood was pulsating with a thrill that pounded underneath her skin, in her ears. Two raised her hands, placating. "I apologize. I got carried away."

Her light tone contrasted the bloody field, the tense silence, and Jimin's obvious distress. He corked his water skin and did not turn away from her as his five guards hauled themselves to their feet, passing with uncertain glances.

Everyone was staring at Two. Not just the princes. Everyone. The other guards. The majors and lieutenants. The passing maids and servants. And an old lady, who walked straight for Jimin with a wooden staff that she promptly brought down on his head with a loud thwap.

Flinching, Jimin opened his mouth, but what he wanted to say disappeared when he saw the old lady, who was now heading for Two. Without preamble, she reached for Two's bloodied arm and gently pulled it to the side to check her shoulder. Then, with a wrinkled thumb, she turned Two's chin to study her right cheek. Bewildered, Two didn't complain, slightly shifting under the grayed eyes that pricked her skin.

"You are a healer," the old lady said.

"A plant elemental. It's different."

The old lady gave a knowing nod. "You weren't trained in that field." Once she was done with Two, she regarded the princes with a smile that was anything but kind. "While Kartas is at the precipice of war, you boys enjoy a contest between this young lady and five guards. Your ancestors will be ashamed of you all. Caeluros curse your stupidity."

The princes didn't turn the other way or run at the scolding. They grounded themselves—some averting their gaze, others bowing their heads. Only one, Seokjin, met the rebuke with a grin. It was like he discovered a missing key to a problem, like he was pleased with what he saw.

"This contest is our planning, and I believe we all found what we came here for." Seokjin laughed, full and kind. It wasn't like his squeaky laughter that Two had heard in the great hall. "Well then, Mother Erna, would you care to return with us to the council of war?"

Mother Erna? Two's jaw dropped. This old lady was Mother Erna? Two eyed her hunched form, her distorted staff, her aura of knowledge and power. No wonder the princes cowered.

Mother Erna did not smile nor speak. She led the way as the princes followed like misbehaved ducklings would their mother. Jungkook kept catching Two's eyes, wordlessly screaming his discomfort and distress, but soon left.

The last to leave was Seokjin, who smiled, not unkindly. "That was an impressive show. I finally understand the fuss about you Luxian guards. But it seemed like you were about to kill that last guard."

Two gave an awkward chuckle. "I would never."

Seokjin clasped his hands behind his back. "Then that's a shame."

What? Her tongue was tied, unable to function in her shock. Something ominous about Seokjin made Two want to disappear into her skin.

"Well then, shall we join the rest?"

Two noticed how far the other princes had gotten and nodded stiffly. Before he turned away, Seokjin gave her one last smile, but the weight of his words did not leave her.

It felt like a test—one that Two had undoubtedly failed.