"I could ask the same about you." Tauram tilted his head, a crease forming between his eyebrows. "The last I saw you, you were a lady newly-married to a lord. Now, you greet visitors at SUAF. How did that happen?"

That was a big change—a gulf between two lives—and those weren't usually formed by choice.

The breath Anjarah let out wasn't very fitting of a lady, but of course, she had left that life behind. "You do remember I worked at SUAF before marrying Xin?"

"Of course. I just never imagined you'd return here." With elegant fingers, Tauram traced over the ornate feathers carved on the handle of the door enclosing them in the fragrant office.

Anjarah sank into a high-backed chair behind the desk cluttered with paperwork, gesturing for Tauram and Esmera to take the two seats in front of her. Although grimy and indented by every person who had occupied this chair before Esmera, the green, gold-embroidered cushions seemed too pretty to sit on, but she obeyed.

Lundas took his place beside Tauram, while Samier scurried behind the desk, out of the clouded leopard's sight.

"Ten years is a lot of time to catch up on in one conversation." Anjarah picked at a loose black thread dangling from her chair.

Tauram leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. "But it's a good start."

Anjarah sighed, the sound heavy with grief and disappointment Esmera recognised all too well. It was the sound of someone whose life hadn't gone as she had intended.

"You might remember Xin's family wasn't too fond of me." A shadow passed over Anjarah's face, stark though the office was dim around it.

"I do." Tauram cocked his head. "You were brave to marry him despite that. You must've really loved him."

There was something in his tone. Was it curiosity? Bitterness? If Esmera could read it, maybe she would know what had been between Tauram and Anjarah before.

Anjarah smiled thinly. "Xin got very sick five years ago. When he passed away, his brother replaced him as the heir to the Mingei estate, and his noblewoman wife replaced me." She clasped her hands on her lap.

When she spoke, her voice was brittle with pain that never faded when and how everyone said it would. "We had a son, but I came from a working-class family. In the wake of Xin's death, his parents decided his son was unworthy of his title because of his commoner's blood, and I was unworthy of their house, so out it was with me and my baby."

"Oh, Anjarah... I'm so sorry." Tauram rested his hand on hers.

Her eyes fixed on their hands, but Esmera didn't think that was the image held in her distant eyes. Maybe she was seeing someone else's hand instead of Tauram's, during some happier time. Maybe she was seeing nothing—all that remained after she had lost her husband and everything he had given her.

Esmera didn't dare to speak for fear that the tears itching behind her eyes would flood out. She wouldn't have thought that she had any left to spill, least of all for anyone else's misfortune, but sorrow was a fountain that never ran dry. If only joy could be so as well, but it was as finite in Milatanur as it was in Arkōsāra for all the brightness and beauty and laughter this realm had bragged of.

Anjarah's eyes shifted to her desk. "I returned to my parents, but they wouldn't take me back. I was the property of the family I had married into. It was the Mingeis' responsibility to care for me, even as a widow, and when they refused, I had nowhere to go but SUAF. If they hadn't given me my old job back..." She shook her head, her eyes turning watery and distant once again. "Kuan and I would've been on the streets."

Anjarah's monal squawked from somewhere under her desk. She bent down. Samier's feathers rippled with iridescence as she lifted him onto her lap.

"Kuan." Tauram smiled gently. "Is that your son?"

"Yes." Anjarah swiped at her eyes so quickly Esmera might've missed the tears gleaming within them if they didn't shine so brightly. "He's a lord's son, and he deserves so much better than what I can afford to give him... but he's my sunshine. He gave me a reason to keep going during those early, difficult years. He still does that every day." Her eyes softened with adoration.

Samier rested his blue and green head against Anjarah.

Before Esmera realised it, a wistful smile had taken hold of her mouth. When she was married, she had wanted nothing more than a child, but she hadn't thought beyond that, beyond the initial joy, the little feet and curious eyes.

She had never thought of what would happen if she needed to desert her marriage as she had.

Maybe it was a good thing that she and Stephan had been unable to do anything right. They hadn't been able to keep a job down for more than a few months, avoid fighting for longer than a few days or keep a pregnancy to term.

Esmera was fortunate that the only person depending on her was herself, even if she did get lonely sometimes. She couldn't have cared for a child single-handedly as gracefully as Anjarah had. She had barely been able to care for herself.

"I'm sure you've raised him to be as wonderful as you are. I can't wait to meet him." Tauram smiled.

"Maybe one day, when you're not a fugitive who'll bring King Ruagu to my door." Anjarah's face darkened. "How could you be so foolish as to come right into Parnakshi? You know you risk death if you're caught." Anjarah lowered her voice, leaning in.

Esmera doubted there was anyone near enough to eavesdrop on them, but one thing she had learnt from her hours in this world was that nothing could be assumed. Promises were no different from betrayals, and truths were the same as lies.

Tauram shrugged with his typical, frustrating nonchalance. "That's why I came in disguise."

Anjarah snorted as she scanned the outlaw Prince's clothing. "A disguise that can be blown off by a stray gust of wind or torn away by a suspicious hand is hardly a disguise."

Tauram dared to smile wryly, as if they weren't discussing his and Esmera's safety but the weather or maybe an old joke he and Anjarah still remembered. "Touché."

Anjarah shook her head. Her mouth settled into a solemn line. "After all these years, you're as careless as I remember."

"Luckily I've had Belaren looking out for me. You know how cautious he is." Tauram leaned back in his chair.

"Almost annoyingly so." Anjarah's eyes brightened in a way that suggested she didn't find that annoying at all. She looked away, busying herself with straightening the books piled haphazardly on the desk. "How is he?"

"He's well." Tauram's voice turned as cool as that of the friend he spoke of.

There was something there, some unspoken history, some silent past like a museum exhibit contained within a glass box, able to be seen but not touched.

Anjarah avoided Tauram's gaze. Maybe it hadn't been him she was involved with but Belaren.

Esmera blinked. It was too much, the years of family history and auditory training she had missed out on, the gossip and tangled relationships that she might've participated in had her life not gone so off track.

Tauram cleared his throat. "I came to Parnakshi to claim a familiar."

Anjarah met the luminous gaze of the clouded leopard at Tauram's ankles, then looked back at the Prince before her eyes settled on Esmera, widening with realisation.

Esmera folded her hands in her lap, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"This is Esmera Finnaz." Tauram put a firm hand on Esmera's shoulder.

If he hadn't, she might've left the room to escape Anjarah's intense gaze.

The other woman raised her eyebrows. "Your betrothed Esmera Finnaz?"

"Do you know another, Anjarah?" There was faint amusement in Tauram's voice.

Esmera suppressed a sigh. That was all she was here. Not "Esmera, the last Finnaz", not "Esmera, the wielder of a legendary, undefeatable weapon nobody knew much about", but "Esmera, the Prince's betrothed". Still, it wasn't the worst of titles.

"Fair enough." Anjarah extended a smile to Esmera. "It's wonderful to meet you. I'm sorry about what happened to your family."

Esmera could think of nothing to say but, "Nice to meet you too."

She had wondered about her family all her life, but she hadn't been prepared for the truth. The revelation of their fate was so new to her that she didn't know how she felt about it.

Esmera was heartbroken and angry and vengeful and some other feelings she wasn't sure there were words for, not in English, not in the Milatanuran tongue that came far too easily to her, reminding her that however out of place she felt, this was where she belonged.

"The Finnaz family..." Anjarah tilted her head, gazing into space. "Their familiars all died with them. Except for your father's." She looked at Esmera. "It's almost unheard of for a familiar to outlive her companion. We've been wondering how and why she has survived for so many years, but she isn't particularly talkative."

Esmera frowned. She had only seen familiars communicate with the sorcerer they were bound to. Her father was dead, which had to mean his familiar had no one to talk to. That had to be why she didn't talk to anyone.

"I have never seen Anjarah Bhanlor complain that an animal wasn't talkative." Tauram shook his head, grinning. "You could even get a viper to spill his master's secrets."

"Yet Lord Hudion's loyal familiar won't budge." Anjarah shook her head.

"You can talk to animals," said Esmera. That was the only thing that would make this conversation make sense.

"Well, it's not so much talking as it is exchanging thoughts with a touch." Anjarah tucked a loose lock of hair back into her voluminous bun.

"That's so cool," Esmera breathed. Far cooler than hearing flowers talk and memorising languages from one's infancy.

"It's a useful skill to have in my line of work." Anjarah's round cheeks flushed with pleasure. She straightened the quill and an inkpot settled on the desk. "Now, you two didn't come here just to flatter me. What's the species of the familiar you're claiming?"

"It's a lark." Tauram spoke before Esmera could.

Anjarah reached into the drawer beside her. With both hands, she lifted a heavy book out of it and onto the desk. It was bound in thick, dark, weathered leather that looked like it had existed since the very first familiar had bonded with a Milatanuran.

This was it. After five years, Esmera was going to claim her lark. Not just catch a glimpse of him if she hurried to her window quickly enough. Not just daydream about where he went after he dropped off his gifts in the morning.

It sounded too good to be true, so Esmera pinched herself to make sure that it was.

Anjarah patted the book. "This is the master list of all the abandoned and unclaimed familiars at the shelter." She opened the massive tome midway and trailed her finger down the page, past "kiang", past "langur", and finally landing on "lark".

Tauram leaned forward and lowered his voice, glancing around for any intrusive ears lending themselves to the conversation. "We were hoping to claim Esmera's lark off the books."

Esmera's gaze snapped to him. She didn't remember them discussing that, but Tauram must have his reasons for making such a strange request. He knew this world and its dangers so much better than Esmera did. After all, he had lived here for most of his life. She had only been here for a day, not counting the few months too long ago for her to remember.

"Oh?" Anjarah kept her finger on the page, raising her eyebrows at the Prince. "When did you become a lawbreaker, Tauram Morghis?"

Tauram glanced at Esmera. She couldn't read his eyes in the moment they locked. All she knew was that her breath caught in her throat. She looked away, at the monal on Anjarah's lap. His beady eyes were fixed on her too, but they weren't as unravelling as those of the man beside her.

"When I realised that following the rules could be dangerous." Tauram let out a breath. "Look, someone killed Esmera's family all those years ago. We can't let them find out that she's alive and in Milatanur..." Tauram didn't finish his thought, but he didn't need to.

Anjarah nodded her understanding. "You're in luck." Her gaze flicked back to the book in front of her. "We have two larks in our care. I'm sure nobody could blame me if I got a little confused while filling out the paperwork." She looked up, a glimmer in her black eyes Esmera might've been afraid of if she didn't know Anjarah was on her side.

Tauram pressed his palms together in a gesture of gratitude. "You're the best."

"I know." Anjarah grinned. "That's why we used to be friends."

Tauram gave her a soft smile. "We're still friends, Anjarah. The years we've been apart and everything that happened during them doesn't change that."

Anjarah's gaze turned solemn. Her eyes said what she couldn't, that she couldn't dismiss the last decade as easily as Tauram could. It would always be in that space between them, just like all the years Esmera had spent in Arkōsāra would keep her separate from everyone in Milatanur even when she was sitting in the same room as them, even after she claimed her familiar and mastered her magical ability.

Anjarah snatched a form from the pile beside her, set the quill to the inkpot at the corner of her desk and started on the paperwork.
It wasn't Esmera's name she filled out in the first empty field but "Haishar Jadar".

Esmera wracked her mind, sifting through the information that it had been overloaded with in the last day, but that name wasn't among it.

"Who's that?" Esmera leaned across the table to get a better look to make sure her eyes weren't deceiving her.

"The would-be owner of the second lark in our custody." Anjarah dipped her quill in the ink once again, not looking up.

Esmera frowned. "What happened to him?"

The other woman shrugged. "It doesn't matter. There are many reasons a person wouldn't claim their lark. Or maybe it was abandoned or taken into SUAF's care because it was being abused or neglected."

Those words nauseated Esmera. So did the idea that anyone could mistreat the being most precious to them, that was a part of them. She gripped the edge of her seat cushion. The gold embroidery caught on her nails.

She didn't even know her lark yet, but she could never hurt him. Her heart already held adoration for him. Maybe it was because of the little presents he brought her on the days nobody seemed to care for her. Or maybe it was something deeper than that.

Esmera swallowed her sickening feeling as Anjarah filled in Haishar's identity number. In the field following "Accompanied by", she wrote "unaccompanied."

Esmera could see where this was going, and she didn't like it. "Couldn't this get us into trouble?"

Surely forging someone else's details on an official form would get them noticed by the wrong people. It could even bring King Ruagu's full, infamous might down on them, and Tauram's charm and princely power wouldn't be enough to protect them from that.

Anjarah shook her head, still writing. "This paperwork is just a formality. See that pile?" Her hand paused as she gestured to a stack of paper on the desk with her eyes. "Those are the forms we've filled out just during this week. My superiors should review them, but they don't. Your form will get lost in the pile, and nobody will ever look deeper than what I've written. I'll make sure of it. You have no reason to worry." She gave Esmera a smile she must've intended to be reassuring.

Even so, a ball of tension formed in Esmera's belly and refused to loosen. She didn't have a good feeling about this, but Tauram and Anjarah were right.

Filling out the form truthfully was the surest way to invite the trouble they were trying to avoid. All it would take was a pair of too-sharp eyes catching sight of a betraying word and a too-loose tongue within range of hostile ears.

Anjarah ran down a column of boxes, ticking some and skipping others. When she reached the bottom of the page, she made a careless scribble to represent Haishar's signature then inked her own neatly beside it. She waved the parchment in the air until it dried, then slipped it into the middle of the pile of other forms.

Esmera pushed down the lump in her throat. It was done, and now she was going to get what she had come to Milatanur for.

"Now, I believe your lark awaits?" Anjarah smiled.

Esmera nodded eagerly as her strange anxiety faded away, feeling like a child again. When she saw Tauram's half-smile, she realised she looked like one too.

She squared her shoulders and reined in her grin so that she looked more like an adult, more like a lady of a mysterious, magical lineage finally claiming her birthright.

"Follow me." Anjarah set Samier on the ground.

The monal gave a high-pitched call as he led the way to the door with a flutter of his rainbow feathers, Anjarah right behind him with Esmera, Tauram and Lundas following her lead.