I walked slowly to the dining hall, lost in my own thoughts. I had spent the rest of the day in the library, taking down things I thought important. Nobody needed me for anything and I hadn't seen Lyon since lunch.

The entire day left me tired and my shoulders sagged. I just wanted to curl up and go to sleep.

I was dreading going to dinner. Not only would I have to face Kirin, but I would also have to face the disappointed and hurt looks of my former friends. It was enough to throw anyone off their meal, and the gods knew I didn't need that. I hadn't eaten anything since morning.

I was so lost in my head that I didn't hear the footsteps until they were right behind me. A shadow grew and I spun around, catching the person's arm and slamming them against the wall. I pinned her arm behind her back, twisting her wrist so that she dropped the knife she held in her hand.

The woman let out a choked sob and I looked at her face. "Gabriella?"

Gabriella was twenty-five with blonde hair. She had been one of the oldest people at the camp, but she didn't fight much. She was docile most of the time and had a little sister. I knew her well enough to know that she had been engaged to a man when I left. I didn't know what happened to her after that.

The door next to us opened because of the noise and Kirin stepped out. Nicole peered at us from behind him.

"What is going on?"

I released Gabriella. "Are you hurt?"

She glared at me through her tears and ran away.

"Nicole, could you please see if she's alright?" Kirin asked.

"I'll go," I said, but Kirin stopped me.

"I think you have done enough damage for tonight."

Nicole tossed me a smug smile before leaving.

"What happened?" asked Kirin.

I picked up the dagger and turned it over in my hand. "I think she meant to stab me."

"Can you blame her?" he said in an undertone.

I was too tired to be angry. "What is that supposed to mean?" I asked, not bothering to hide the hurt.

Kirin didn't look at me. "You have not exactly been the best person of the year."

All my will seemed to have drained out of me. I tossed the knife back to the ground. "I should go have dinner."

I heard Kirin sigh behind me and then the shutting of a door. "Wait," he said, "let me come with you."

I didn't stop walking, but neither did I walk faster. Kirin caught easily up to me.

"How was your day?" he asked and I snorted.

"Mine could have gone better, thank you for asking," he said.

I stayed silent. I did not have anything to say, anyway.

Kirin sighed again. "Are you going to be so difficult all the time? I am just trying to make some conversation!"

"Maybe I don't want to converse!" I said. "Maybe I just want you to leave me alone."

"I'm just trying to be friend-"

"Maybe I don't want to be friends!" I screamed. Ah, there was the anger.

Kirin's face was impassive. "You do not mean that."

"Not everybody wants to cling to you," I said, bitterly.

"Is this about Nicole? What do you have against her?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Have you even seen her? She's as thick as a banyan tree!"

"Considering the circumstances, she is a lot friendlier than you are at the moment."

"Do you not see!" I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation. I turned to him, pausing in our walk. We had almost reached the dining hall. "We are not meant to be friends! We are never going to be friends. These charades where we pretend that the other person is not someone we are eventually going to kill are going to fall flat. There is no use in pretending. We will never be friends." I lowered my voice to its normal tone. "And we will never be anything more."

Kirin's expression hadn't changed throughout my outburst, but I knew him long enough to see something shift in his demeanor.

"Good day, Lady Arya," he said and entered the dining hall. I caught a glimpse of the people inside watching Kirin enter with wide eyes. They must have heard me screaming.

I felt grey. Things had gone from bad to worse since this morning. I faced the doors. I knew if I looked back, I wouldn't eat dinner in the dining hall, and a part of me wondered if it would be that bad.

No, I told myself. I cannot avoid them forever.

I rubbed the tiredness away, and took a deep breath. Here we go.

Dinner was worse than lunch. I sat beside Lyon who kept sending me questioning glances throughout the meal. Don't get me wrong, the food was fantastic, but my stomach revolted. In the end, I settled for a glass of juice.

Kirin sat as far away from me as possible, next to Nicole, whose tinkering laugh could be heard across the table. Roran and Sasha were engaged in conversation with Aaron. Which left the rest of the party free to stare at me.

At one point I got so fed up, that I met their gazes, daring them to say something. They looked away, embarrassed and for a while I felt better, but soon I began to burn again under their stares.

I got up abruptly, causing my chair to topple to the ground. Aaron, Sasha and Larkin looked up.

I managed a smile. "I must take your leave, your Majesties. I seek permission to retire from the hall."

"But you have hardly eaten anything," said Larkin.

"I am not hungry."

Aaron waved a hand. "You may go."

I made straight for the arena. I needed something to occupy my mind, and though I did not have the strength to duel, but I had the strength to hack mindlessly.

I pulled out practice dummies from the storage on the second floor and set them in the middle of the arena. I grabbed a sword.

I struck the dummy over and over again until my arms burned. Every time I hit the wood it created a cut. In an hour, the dummy looked worse off than I felt. Still, I didn't stop. My arms screamed in protest, but I struck like a woman possessed.

I knew I should stop, but I couldn't. There was something inside me fuelled by a white hot rage. I wasn't angry at Kirin for being with Nicole. I wasn't angry with Larkin for suggesting this stupid plan in the first place. I wasn't angry with Gabriella for trying to kill me. No, I was angry with the person who was the root to all our miseries.

I saw the fire again, the screams of the people inside. Sweat trickled down my face, as if reacting to the ghost of the fire. People ran everywhere, and I wanted to run. My tiny legs wouldn't move. I watched the fire curl greedily towards the sky, as if hungry to devour the stars. I felt the rage eat me from the inside and I screamed in pure anger at the dummy. I just wanted it dead.

I saw the silhouette again. He watched, the fire reflected in his eyes. All the power in the world wouldn't satisfy him. I grabbed the dummy and flung it at the wall around the arena with a feral scream. The dummy hit the wall and broke into to two. I had worried it so much the wood just wouldn't hold together anymore.

I was panting, looking at the broken wood. It seemed like a fitting metaphor for me at that moment.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," a voice made me spin around.

Lyon eyed the dummy wearily. I rubbed the salt water off my cheeks. "Hello," I croaked.

"You look troubled," he noticed.

I let out a shaky laugh. "That is an understatement." I told him to take a seat while I returned the sword.

I splashed ice-cold water on my face and rubbed it off with my skirt. I was still breathing heavily, but the consuming rage had died down.

Lyon was sitting on a stone stair made to watch the battles in the arena.

The sky was twinkling merrily, stars swirling into constellations. The moon was peeking over the edge of the world. A cool wind calmed the heat on my body.

"Are you alright?" asked Lyon when I came and sat next to him.

I shook my head. "Can we not talk about it, though? For now. Perhaps later."

Lyon nodded. "Alright. I came here to ask if you had time to talk."

His face was ashen. "Yes, I do," I said immediately. "It is about the tunnels, isn't it?"

Lyon grimaced. "I found something very disturbing."

I waited for him to gather the nerve to continue.

"I was running like you told me to and I thought for sure the servant would follow me. After a while I was convinced he was not following me and considered heading back the same way we came. I decided I could not risk it and kept walking.

"I came across two doors at the end of the tunnel. I went through the left one, first, a large metal door. The inside was white with rows of beds lined up like an infirmary. I thought it was an infirmary at the beginning. There were shelves filled with potions and the tools healers use. Since there was no one in the room, I inspected it. It was only after I got closer that I saw they had straps attached to the bed to tie a person down. The beds were empty, and some of them were clean, but some others were caked with blood. The entire sheet was soaked with dried blood." He swallowed. "I wanted to leave after that. There was a metal sheet on one side of the back wall and I thought it was a way out. I opened it and out spilled," he took a breath, "bodies. They were hideous. All of them were definitely dead, but it was how they were left there that was revolting. They had been there a long time. The stench made me throw up. Some of their bones had been broken so they could fit inside. Some of their faces had been burnt off, some of of their faces were more bone than flesh and there were all these things crawling in them." He shuddered and I tried not to gag.

"So I ran. I ran away from there. I took the other door and was half-expecting more dead bodies, but this was just stairs. They climbed up and, after a while, levelled out. Now that I think about it, they must be tunnels between the walls of the palace. The ventilation shafts were easily accessible and from inside the tunnel you could hear people clearly. The passages had been recently used. There was no dust or anything to state disuse. I think it's used to spy on people."

I frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"Because, the shafts are placed in Lord Roran and the Lady Sasha's room, Lord Leonardo's room, my mother's room, the rooms of a few dozen noblemen and . . ."

"Yours," I finished.

Lyon stayed silent, but I remembered the ventilation shaft in his room. I also remembered the king offering me a room with one, but I had refused since vents always make disturbing noises.

"Why would someone spy on you?" I asked, wording the sentence carefully.

His smile did not reach his eyes. "There is no need to be so polite, Arya. You can say it. My own father is spying on me." I hoped I had imagined the bitterness in his tone.

I looked away. Lyon's tale, coupled with the cold of the night had chilled me sufficiently.

I found I did not take joy in the fact that Lyon was doubting his own father. I might despise the king, but Lyon deserved a good family. Sometimes I wondered if things would be different if his mother were alive.

Lyon leaned back, covering his eyes with an arm. "Where have you been the whole day?" I asked.

"Riding," he said. "I needed to clear my head and the more distance I put from my father, the better I felt."

"Riding where?"

He lowered his arm, looking apologetic. "In the forest."

"Lyon!" I chided.

"Yes, I know, I'm sorry. I know I should have called you, but I didn't find you in your room and I just wanted to get out."

I sighed. "At least you are alright. Why did the king keep you back, anyway?"

"He wanted me to keep an eye on you," Lyon said, disgruntled.

The king suspected me. This was not good. "Why?"

"Something Immanuel said. Which reminds me, what happened to you?"

I told him my half of the story and Immanuel's threat outside the king's room.

Lyon shook his head. "Does my father not trust anyone?"

"Maybe his age is making him paranoid."

Lyon yawned. "Maybe. I should head back. All this has left me exhausted."

"What are you going to do about the vent?"

"Oh, I pushed my cupboard in front of it," he said, nonchalantly.

I stayed in the arena long after Lyon left. I watched the moon climb the sky, my mind curiously silent, and went back inside only well past midnight.

As I got ready for bed, I noticed a piece of paper, folded and placed on my pillow. I picked it up, recognizing the neat handwriting inside as that of Larkin's.

The paper contained one word.

Begin.