With her arm looped through Tauram's, Esmera felt almost like they were a lady and the King she was betrothed to walking down the streets of the capital they would someday rule, his familiar winding around their ankles in his usual manner while hers glided above their heads.

But if they were who they were born to be, they wouldn't have walked with their hoods over their bent heads, two fugitives whose pasts had banished them from their homeland.

They'd have strolled tall and proud, clad in silks and jewels, and everyone would've bowed as they passed by. It was a wild daydream, but only as wild as everything else that had happened since Esmera had arrived in Milatanur.

People made way for them, either out of subconscious reverence or fear of the identities they masked with their cloaks. Small wildcats trailed after bright silk scarves that waltzed in the wind. Birds and squirrels sat on shoulders, keeping somehow steady even while their sorcerers dashed about the town.

Esmera's skin crawled at the sight of dark flecks sneaking beneath collars. It brought to mind the skittering legs of the insect familiars she hadn't known existed until she visited SUAF.

Her head was overheating from all the sounds filling the air, the shouts, the laughter, the thumps of feet on the ground, the scraping of chairs and tables as vendors rearranged their wares to catch the eyes of their next customers.

Esmera couldn't escape it. It was too loud, too overbearing. She would drown here on dry land, beneath all these thoughtless noises.

Then Tauram was speaking, his voice cool, giving Esmera a focal point so she could drown out Parnakshi's din. "So, how does it feel?"

"What?" Esmera's eyes flicked to him.

"To be reunited with your familiar." He flashed her a grin that she was fortunate enough to see beneath his hood.

She cleared her throat before he could notice that her breath had caught in it. But that didn't matter. What did matter was that Esmera had noticed. She was so starved for kindness that an offhand smile from a near stranger did unspeakable things to her.

It was sad. Almost as sad as a baby bird who had been left to yearn for a girl who didn't know who she was or where she had come from, let alone of his existence and what he meant to her.

"Esmera?" asked Tauram.

Esmera gave a soft smile. "It's everything you said it would be. I feel complete in a way I've never felt before." She wasn't without her cracks, but she didn't tell Tauram that.

She had the biggest piece that had been missing from herself. Maybe she could start putting herself together. For the first time since she left Stephan, healing felt within her reach, even though she would no doubt have to stretch for it.

Esmera looked up at the cottony sky, seeking a familiar, greenish streak of glitter among the avian forms swooping across the sky.

Jammas darted out of sight but returned to hover over Esmera before flitting away again. She smiled, watching him until he disappeared among his flying fellows. He had never known this kind of freedom, the freedom where he could stretch his wings for as long as he liked, knowing he would never have to return to the cage that was the only home he had ever known. Esmera was glad she had finally claimed him. It had freed some deep, dormant part of her too.

A sudden hush fell over the town. Esmera went still with it, hardly daring to breathe. She didn't want to draw the attention of whatever could quieten a town that ran on magic and positivity.

It was only murmurs that reached Esmera's ears. People shuffled out onto the street. Wheels whizzed as they rolled against the ground, growing louder, closer with every moment. Esmera stood on her tiptoes, but she could see nothing above the heads of the people in front of her.

The murmurs rose to panicked whispers.

"It's the King," said the woman beside Esmera. An unmistakable trill ran through the crowd flanking the main street.

It was a feeling Esmera knew well enough from the nights she had lain in bed, knowing just from Stephan's footsteps that he was too drunk to hear her scream for him to stop.

Fear.

"Of all Munasha's ungodly sons." Tauram grabbed Esmera's arm, and before she could ask him what he was doing, he was dragging her into the dark space between two buildings. No light would reach them here, and neither would any eyes.

They were all fixed on the chariot that rode up in front of them, stopping in the centre of the main street. The carts passing along the road swerved to avoid it, narrowly avoiding crashing into the stalls set up along the sides. Esmera didn't blame them. She'd do anything to avoid the sharp, dark eyes of the man inside the chariot.

Lundas's hackles rose where he stood in front of Esmera and Tauram, defending them from a threat she wasn't sure about. Jammas swooped in from nowhere and settled on her shoulder, a comforting weight as he too looked beyond the alley, to the chariot that the driver disembarked. A marmot dashed out after the man, its little paws poised in front of its chest.

The man straightened in front of the chariot's occupants and cleared his throat. "Presenting His Majesty King Ruagu and Her Highness Princess Kerani." He opened the chariot's door with a flourish.

The people fell to their knees in a bow that seemed more like a plea.

The man with those dark eyes that seemed somehow deadly stepped down first. Even the earth's hum went silent as his booted feet touched the ground. The little sunlight that passed through the clouds glimmered off the gold embroidery on his tunic, but there was more metal in his face, in the straight, too-perfect nose, in the sharp jaw, in the harsh mouth.

The infamous King Ruagu was beautiful in the same way jagged mountain peaks were, and no doubt as merciless to anyone who made the smallest misstep.

Behind him, a hissing viper slithered out of the chariot, baring his fangs at any who had the audacity to look his way.

The King gazed around at the crowd, each pass of his eyes like a sprinkle of ice water. Nobody dared move, to draw that gaze to them, to the friend beside them, to the child clutching at their skirt, to the familiar clinging to their shoulder.

Just as King Ruagu's eyes skirted the alleyway where Esmera and Tauram—the only people not bowing to him—lurked, the Prince pulled her to him, and they both vanished.

"Shh," Tauram murmured. He may have appeared as insubstantial as air, but his breath was as solid as any other person's when it brushed against the top of Esmera's head. "Trust me, we don't want Ruagu to see us."

Esmera started. It was strange to be held by someone she couldn't see. It was strange to be unable to see herself. It was as if she and Tauram were ghosts, but they had to be in this world. To be anything more would be to get themselves killed and fail Jilhari and Milatanur.

Esmera blinked. Since when did she care about Jilhari's ultimatum and Milatanur's future? She had told Tauram she didn't want to be part of the mission, and he had left her be.

But she did care. She cared about these people wringing their hands while their king combed them over with his terrifying eyes. She cared about these children trembling behind their parents.
They were a part of Milatanur, and so was she. They had bloomed from the same earth. They were a part of each other.

The woman who disembarked the chariot after King Ruagu had familiar eyes, eyebrows Esmera recognised, and a mouth she knew she had been staring at too often for it to be innocent.

Her parsi too was familiar enough. It was red and sewn from an iridescent fabric that was like sunlight reflected in water. It was like something Esmera might've found in the wardrobe of the room she had made her own. there was something unmistakably regal about her radiant, waist-length hair and sparkling golden sandals.

A round, blue bird sat on her shoulder. Its dark eyes settled on Esmera and Tauram's hiding place. It cocked its head. Esmera's heart skipped a beat even though she knew the bird couldn't see her, but she couldn't convince herself that the little creature didn't somehow know they were there.

Esmera heard Tauram inhale sharply, heard his heart speed up. "What is the bastard doing with my sister?" His hand tightened on Esmera's arm.

She flinched, pulling away before she knew what she was doing, less from Tauram, more from the memory that took her in its painful grip. "You're hurting me."

"Sorry." Tauram looped an arm around her shoulders again, like a barrier between Esmera and the dark, terrible power that dominated the main street.

She liked to believe that it was, even though she knew she was still alive only because Tauram's useful ability had hidden them from King Ruagu's dangerous gaze.

King Ruagu's eyes snapped away from the crowd. The tension among them dissipated. Esmera could hear it in the soft, relieved breaths, see it in the shoulders that relaxed. The King started down the street, his dark cloak fluttering out in his wake. Princess Kerani remained a few paces behind him, close enough to grab hold of him if she tried, but she didn't.

They were like drops of ink and blood running down the street. King Ruagu was bold to dare to walk through the capital unguarded, despite knowing that he was a usurper, that people feared him. Maybe that fear was what made him so confident that nobody would dare to harm him. Maybe him being unguarded didn't mean he was unarmed.

He was the type of person Esmera hated, the sort that forced his way into places where he didn't belong, the type that controlled people through terror. She had known enough bullies, but none as bad as him.

From his worried mother's arms, a little boy waved a chubby hand at the Princess, oblivious to the fear that had silenced a town Esmera had never thought could be quiet. Princess Kerani stopped to wave back, her face splitting in a smile that reminded Esmera so much of Tauram she hurt for him.

It couldn't be easy for him to see his sister a decade later. He was probably wondering how it had treated her, though he'd probably never tell Esmera that. There was no betraying mark upon her, but not all injuries bared themselves to the naked eye.

"Kerani," King Ruagu said.

His voice was like music, the chilling kind, like the wind whipping between mountain peaks. Princess Kerani fell back into step behind him while her little admirer pressed his face against his mother and watched her between the strands of her hair.