The Raven Queen has a complicated and very secretive schedule. I haven't seen her around the palace, nor does anyone of importance speak of her existence. It's as if she doesn't live amongst her children, or everyone is too afraid to admit they're sharing a roof with the leader of Rivian.

I have come to the simple conclusion that she spends most of her time behind closed doors, hidden away in her private chambers. They expand much larger than other rooms in the palace and include everything she'll ever need. Until the servants stop bringing her meals, she'll have no reason to venture into the remaining halls of her large home.

The thoughts to her ghost-like ways distract me from the pile of notes in my lap. Kernels of information given to me from Cloak aren't enough to find a sure-fire way to heal him, but if I can expand on those notes through my own power and craft a treatment from scratch, I'll get out of here sooner than four intervals.

My room, smaller than Cloak's closet, has become stuffy in recent days. Venturing out doesn't help much; coming face to face with Cloak always ends in one argument or another and after he failed to capture the Luminary in the capital, his cold shoulder is impenetrable. Not through any fault of my own, but he kicks himself for failing.

That's another note I made. Part of his condition stems from a job that, if ending in failure, results in personal hatred. Or discipline from his mother. I don't know if she screamed at him, or warned him that a job that goes unfinished is a great way to end his reputation, but Cloak hasn't been the same since that day. Always unpleasant and difficult to please, the creeping of hatred has slipped through the cracks of his scars and seeps into every room he stomps through.

Due to the sense of the walls closing in on me, I strolled to the gardens hoping to clear my head. Amongst the carved hedges and the echo of a trickling fountain, I look to find a bright spot in my notes. The scribbled handwriting over the page belongs to me, but staring at the words for too long has led me to believe that the truths make little sense at all. Are they mine? Or did Cloak lead me to believe there's something else going on?

Too many questions for the peaceful gardens. My mind wanders between the queen, Cloak, Castiel, and just how long my life will last if this doesn't work out. Another fault of my focus is the rough stone bench I sit on. The carved ornamental swirls along the legs travel to border the edge of the white stone seat, ending in the long tail of a dragon's body. Two beasts meet in the middle, hidden by my thighs, but I ran my fingers over the rough bumps of their edge before sitting down.

I didn't find this spot immediately. The maze of hedges took me through many turns before I discovered the remnants of a stone statue. My knowledge of its history is little to none; I recognize the remains to belong to the Raven Queen's former husband, the last king of Rivian, but the pieces have long been cleaned up. She ordered it demolished once he died at the hands of a jealous kitchen servant that poisoned his stew. As the story goes.

All that matters is the peacefulness of the area. Silence forms thick walls on my mind, making concentration even harder to achieve, but the notes haven't changed. I hope something comes out of what I've written so carefully in full detail. After facing my own complications due to the Void Queen's force of power, and understanding Castiel's silent rage with an inability to walk, Cloak's condition isn't the first I've tried to treat.

I hope I don't fail like I did with Castiel.

Following my analysis on Cloak, there isn't enough to gather about the Panjandrum Corps. They dispersed after searching for the Luminary—and failing—so Gav and Keaya were more focused on doing their jobs than introducing themselves further to me. If I can understand who they are, maybe it'll give me a better outlook on Cloak.

Just as I consider diving deeper into making Gav speak about anything and everything, a leaf crunches too close to be a natural sound. I jump when I look up to see the Raven Queen standing only feet away, her hands folded delicately over the front of her abdomen. Two beasts flank her and stare at me too, their eyes soulless and empty behind an equally horrifying smile.

I stare at the three of them, unsure what to say as I haven't seen the queen since that first day. Cloak practically dragged me into her library and then abandoned me there. With the queen. This feels similar, though I can't place why. Possibly, it's the nature of who accompanies her. How hollow they look.

"Hello, Marie," Millicent greets.

"Your Majesty," I croak. Scrambling, I toss my stack of parchment aside and don't care for it crashing to the ground. I'm too busy standing and bowing at the waist to please her in a maze of hedges I definitely won't escape from if she decides I'm better off dead for refusing to obey her every command. Even a silent one. "How lovely to...see you on this lovely day."

She flashes a forced, confused smile.

Her children don't dress as royal as she does. As a queen, she has to uphold a certain reputation of wide gowns and gleaming jewelry, but today her look borders the line between comfortable and royal. A white velvet gown hugs her hips and falls to her ankles, revealing diamond slippers smothered by the ends of grass stems.

The golden belt slung across her hips is the only break between the toe of her dress and the square neckline. The wide sleeves nearly reach the ground, but stop just past her knees in a desperate attempt to maintain cleanliness. Like a proper queen. She's still intimidating to look at despite the somewhat normal attire.

That doesn't scratch the surface to who flanks her sides.

"I see you're taking advantage of all we offer," she muses, spreading out her hand towards the statue behind her. "I haven't visited this location in years; I forgot how beautiful it is."

I spent plenty of time looking at the base of the statue and the stone spikes sticking out from it, hoping to reach the sky after once standing so tall, yet for the sake of not falling apart entirely, I turn at the waist to view what she gestures to. And as if I'm seeing it for the first time, a glimmer of gold catches my eye. A plaque. The king's name is scratched out, but I can still read it clearly.

"It's very quiet," I manage to squeeze out. "Peaceful."

"Indeed." She glances towards the sky as if she can still see that statue. The longing expression on her face doesn't exude hatred, so I wonder if a kitchen servant actually poisoned him and didn't meet his end at her hand. Blinking herself back to the world, she looks down at the notes I've abandoned. "What are you paying such close attention to?"

"These are my notes." I scramble to pick them up, gathering the parchment in my arms in a mess of jagged edges and a misplaced stack. My lectures on Cloak's inability to clean up after himself don't penetrate that icy exterior, but now that I stand in front of the queen with a similar habit, I feel weaker than I have in a long time. How does Cloak do it without care? "I've written everything I have on Cloak to keep track of what I plan to help him with."

"Ah." She nods. For the sake of my boring life, she tries to appear interested. "Walk with me, Marie. I wish to discuss this matter further." She waggles a finger at me and my boots move involuntarily to follow at her side.

I walk at her side and do my best to ignore the shuffling feet behind us. One appears to be a mortal—a human—but I have strong doubts the queen would allow someone of such weak status to be in her presence. The female is a seennouk that appears to be more elf than such, but the white wings folded on her back give her away. The tips nearly drag along the ground behind her but she holds them high to avoid tearing the feathers.

Most seennouks are born with beaks instead of mouths and noses that stretch the skin of their broad faces. This woman has the face of a normal beast, like me, but along her hairline of waved copper hair, small white feathers form a clean border that extends past her ears and to the base of her jaw.

"These are my lovers," the queen introduces. Without a glance back at them, that's the only acknowledgment they receive. "Friava and Mutes. They serve me for different purposes."

"Oh." It's the only word I can think to say, and the only word my mind can form. Her lovers. One man and one woman, for whatever mood she is in. A shiver wrapping around my spine betrays the warm afternoon beating down on my shoulders.

"They spent too many days in the dark of my chambers. Today is a peaceful autumn day, one of the last before winter's turn. I must let them explore before they're returned to the confines of the dark."

I swallow. "How kind of you."

The woman—Friava—sighs. I turn my head towards her, finding wide teal eyes already staring back at me. They're dense up close; like she's under a spell and can't see anything in front of her other than what her controller allows. Her dark lashes betray that bright color and go against the sand, grainy nature of her skin—dotted in orange freckles. Looking at her reminds me of staring at a very alive ghost. I don't care for the sense of death following me.

We wind through the hedges at a slow pace. Every so often, I glimpse dark armor following behind us—the queen's protectors maintaining a distance at all costs.

"Tell me of your notes, Marie," Millicent says after at a time.

I don't have to look at the paper to know what is written, I stared at the words enough over the past few days, but I look anyway. "Well, Cloak appears to be dealing with some resentment. If it plays into what he did in the way—regret. I went with the Panjandrum Corps in search of a Luminary and discovered that, when he fails, he falls farther into this hole he has dug. I haven't discovered it yet, but something about his life isn't the way he wants it to be."

For all my fear, I want to make a good impression. I want to impress her. Precisely why my voice becomes so steady with every passing word. An ability I didn't think I possessed.

"I applaud your attempts so far," she compliments. "You're getting yourself off to a great start."

My mouth falls open. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Yes, my son doesn't have the easiest time. He's constantly under the tug of responsibility—sometimes he desires his life, other times he wants nothing more than to escape the burdens of his past. But I must say this: Rivian is safer without these Luminaries." She waggles a thin finger at the stone steps underneath our passing feet.

I dare push at the thin glass wall she put between us. "How so, Your Majesty?"

As if in disbelief to my foolish question, she glances at me out of the corner of her eye to ensure the words actually left my mouth. I'm not a risk-taker; the question belongs to the perilous part of me I haven't touched in three years. Risks get you killed. "Well, Luminaries are difficult to control. Too many of them and this land will become overrun. Once a few of them decide I'm not worthy on the throne—they'll take over. Mutes used to be a confident Luminary, but he has since lost that nature."

I whirl towards the man walking at the queen's left shoulder, but he doesn't meet my eye. His walnut brown eyes match this early autumn weather and the choppy, chocolate brown hair on his head reminds me of delectable winter pies baked in Gudgeon Village. The only time of the year we spend extra coin for sweet ingredients.

Compared to the first moment I saw him, he is frowning now. The lines around his mouth stretch deep. It's impossible he's a Luminary. The iron manacle around his wrist proves a different story, and the dark bags underneath his eyes give me all the answers I need to know. A trapped Luminary.

"He once believed he was stronger than me, believed he could kill me with his power," she goes on. "I captured him and turned him into my own. Once a mortal, he's now sentenced to live a long life at my side. However long I please." She shrugs like this is a simple thought.

Again, I shiver. Perhaps the cold radiates from her skin, or it slithers from the depths of her lover's heart. Which one, I don't know.

"Is he under a spell?" I question.

"No." She laughs. "Through ways of persuasion, he forgot what his power entails. The raw strength of it. Like the other palace attendants, he found a certain clarity behind closed doors."

The other palace attendants? What is she talking about?

I don't dare ask another risky question. I pray she'll answer that query without me having to ask. A raw, undeveloped thought develops in my mind that I don't want to believe. Luminaries are rare to come by in the land, they rarely identify themselves as such, and if the queen has conditioned her palace attendants—Luminaries—to forget their powers ever existed beyond what she wanted them to remember...

No, she's not that cruel. She can't be. The beautiful woman at my side would never do such a thing. Mutes and Friava are different stories; they're serving their purposes as her lovers and the ghost appearance on their faces is only out of nature. Friava's small, round face isn't broken by lines of age or expression, but that could simply be her.

Mutes sounds too close to a person who can't speak without permission, and that alone is a matter that requires discussion. I'm suddenly overcome with the sense of being confined. The pressure weighs on me heavier than when I'm in my assigned room or staring down Cloak from across the room until he speaks. He never does, and the walls in my room never stretch out farther to give me more space to breathe. I suppose this tightening in my chest won't loosen until the queen is gone.

"I must give you a piece of advice now that I have you here," Millicent declares.

I offer only what I have. "You're very kind."

"Take Jett out of his comfort zone by any means necessary. Life can get old and habits turn into a nuisance; they weigh on the shoulders and become burdens to carry after so long. But we never let them go. It's important that he knows there is more than what happened in his past."

That's actually...decent advice. I want to scribble that down onto the parchment but now is not the time. "What about his past bothers him so?"

She sighs to the ground. We've entered another complicated mess of hedges, an area I don't recognize, and the palace is at our back. With every step, I'm furthering myself from safety and possibly entering horrible darkness I won't recover from. That is, if the queen decides she wishes to suck the life out of me like she has the rest. "My son has faced many obstacles throughout his years, and I'm not afraid to say that most are at the origin of my order. He killed in the war and protected his land, but along with the blood on his hands, he was left with the realization that he didn't care for taking lives. Even that of enemies."

I cannot see that as a possibility, yet I listen anyway. Cloak seems all too pleased to stretch this out and allow me to die.

"Killing is part of his job, so he does as he's asked and deals with the struggles later," she goes on. "That has caught up to him. Along with the Luminary children slaughtered under his forces—"

"I'm sorry?" I interrupt.

She doesn't halt a step, yet I'm comfortable enough not to apologize. Those two words ring in my ears. Luminary children. Luminary children.

"He didn't speak to you about this?" Millicent clicks her tongue and purses blood-red lips into a pout. "If the war wasn't bad enough, Jett faced another trial. Through his spies, he discovered an entire legion of Luminary children hiding away underneath my sister's control. They were training in the Void Territory, close enough that her spies didn't notice our presence."

"That's terrible," I whisper before she can finish. I already know the end of the story.

"He didn't want to kill them. He needed me to let them go and forget about their presence, but every child turns into an adult and makes decisions of their own. I couldn't allow my sister's brainwashing to force them against me, so I ordered him to kill them all." Her voice softens in remembrance of all those young lives, and I think of their parents and that fear in their final moments.

I don't long to know the whole legend, but the thought of killing innocent children is enough to make my stomach churn. I've suddenly lost my appetite after skipping lunch.

"Not every death is peaceful, Your Majesty," I venture. "I hope Cloak did what it took to end their suffering in a mild, quick manner."

She smiles. Her lovers have distanced from us, still at our backs but far enough away that I don't feel Mutes breathing onto the back of my neck. "If you know my son at all, you would realize he did. In his mind, there was no other way. Through another Luminary's power, they lost consciousness and passed in their sleep. Painful, all the same."

Something bites at me. What could've been done. "Is there no place for them at court?" I blurt. "Could you not have trained them to kneel to you?"

Her face hardens, a frown deepening. I find it strange at all to walk at her side in such a casual manner, but to be in such a vulnerable state while she is angered at me for beginning to counter her ways is a different danger. Being around her at all is a risk to my life.

"I do not deal with my sister's creations. They are hers, and hers alone. Meant to unravel my rule and drive me insane. I will not crumble," she growls.

I stare at the side of her face for longer than others consider safe. The shadows of the afternoon fold across her nose and darken her bright violet eyes. No such beauty can be dulled. "Of course not, Your Majesty," I say quietly.

She stops, placing her hand on my arm. I flinch against that warm touch, but she fails to notice how uncomfortable I am. Somehow, we've circled back towards the palace. I wonder if she was leading me here all along, timing this conversation to end perfectly at the maze opening. I entered only an hour ago to grasp silence, and instead, I've discovered an entirely new fear for the leader of this land. And a new understanding as to what plagues Cloak's every waking moment.

"This talk has been lovely," she promises, that hand still on my arm. "I trust you'll keep up these efforts to heal my son. He needs you, Marie. He needs someone to understand him."

I want to scream at her. Why can't you understand him? Release him from the shackles of a lifetime of killing and allow him to be your son.

My conscience slaps me internally and I dip my head in appreciation instead. "Thank you for confiding in me, Your Majesty. I promise to do everything I can."

With one final smile, she saunters off with a perfectly straight spine. Her two lovers don't acknowledge me as they pass, scurrying after their leader. Friava's wings have drooped to the ground, shoulders sagging. At least their silky texture shines like an angel's skin.

I watch her go until she disappears into the safety of the palace. Gathering the ink quill, I jot down a few more notes with the remaining ink I have. Luminary children, and Luminary slaves. Both I need to research in the coming days. Until then, I have a prince to visit.