The winding staircase of the Northern Tower brings us to the corridor leading to the king's chambers. The bodies of the dead have been removed, but the floor still bears dark spots where blood was spilled. Aurelia avoids stepping on them, but Oliver walks straight to the door, pushes it and holds it open for her.

The room, too, contains reminders of the struggle that happened here—broken furniture, tapestries stripped off the walls, the torn drapes hanging like rags from the canopy over the bed.

Oliver takes it all in, then turns to Aurelia. "Perhaps we should go to another --"

"That's fine," she says. "The mess is inevitable. Sometimes creation must begin with destruction."

"Right." Oliver rubs his chin, and then his gaze stops on Hadrian. "Hey, what are you doing here?"

Not honoring him with an answer, Hadrian nods at me.

"Oh," Oliver raises one eyebrow at me. "Rollo will be disappointed. But I guess that's what you do with servants—drag them around after you?" He grins at Aurelia. "What did the castle servants usually do?"

"Well," she replies, "they used to kneel by the door until given a task..."

"You've heard her." Oliver nods at Hadrian. "By the door."

Hadrian doesn't move, staring at him.

"They were not allowed to look their masters in the eye," Aurelia adds.

"Do you believe her?" Hadrian says to Oliver, ignoring her. "That she did what she did for the greater good? Do you really think she had no other motives?"

Aurelia smiles. "My selfish little brother has never believed in acting for someone else's good. What other motives could I have? I was a King's daughter, the highest position among all the women in this Kingdom. Now I'm nobody, and totally at the mercy of the new rulers." She nods at Oliver, who smiles encouragingly. "Why would I bring this change about unless I believed in a greater good it could achieve?"

"You little snake," Hadrian whispers, making a step in her direction—and stops immediately as the sharp blade of Oliver's sword presses at his chest.

"Do it," Aurelia says to Oliver. "Put him out of his misery. There's no place for him in this new world. As long as he lives, there's a chance that your enemies will gather around him."

"I can," says Oliver, glancing at me. "Can't I? Do you still want him for a servant?"

Aurelia gives me a puzzled look. "You lost an eye because of him. Don't you want him dead?"

"The person who most clearly wants him dead is you," I say.

I can't quite figure her out. Her pleasant manners and effortless grace stand in sharp contrast with her actions. She poisoned her father. She beheaded her older brother. Now, she's working hard to put her younger brother in his grave. Could she really hold her ideals above the interests of her own family?

"I don't want him dead." She shrugs. "It only pains me to see how lost he is in this new reality. He's always been bad in adapting to changes. Being reduced so low is a torture to him, and keeping him alive will only prolong his suffering. Also, he'll be pretty useless as a servant." She gives me a half-smile. "Unless you mean a bed servant."

"Whatever," says Oliver, and points with his sword at the door. "Kneel here, and be quiet, because I'm getting tired of this." He looks at me. "Seriously, Bruno, this game is dragging for too long."

I turn to Hadrian. He shows no hysterical panic of yesterday, but I can see fear lurking under the surface of his cool green eyes. He wants us to believe he is prepared to meet his fate, yet it's clear that his fragile composure will shatter at the first sign of violence. I'm not sure I want to see it happen—not in front of Aurelia who, for whatever reason, is so eager to see him dead.

"Kneel," I say, angry at the confusion this situation is evoking in me. "Kneel by the fucking door or I will make you."

There's a pause, and then he averts his gaze. He turns around, walks back to the door and kneels on the stone floor, his back straight, his face wiped clean of all expression. Then, he lowers his head.

Oliver chuckles contentedly behind my back.

"Good servant," he says.

I stare at the golden head bowed down—not a show of submission, rather an attempt to avoid looking at us. The sight brings about a confusing tingle of excitement at having, for the first time in my life, someone completely in my power. Yet the excitement feels wrong. Have we freed the old servants only to make new ones?

"Well, Aurelia." Oliver walks around the room. "You wanted to talk politics?"

"Yes," she says. "You have mentioned that you intend to form a new government. How exactly do you intend to proceed about it?"

"Truth be told..." Oliver pauses, and I glance to see his slightly confused expression. "Having little experience in such matters...we're not sure where to begin."

"Oh, then perhaps I could help." Aurelia beams with childlike excitement. "I've always wanted to be an adviser! I'd suggest you first send messages to all our neighbors notifying them that we're now a republic. You don't need to disperse the army of the firstborns, but you could offer them salary and recruit new soldiers on good conditions. Training them should be a priority—for a while, we will be an easy target. It could be a good idea to offer small peace offerings to the most powerful neighbors—such as returning the Berry island to Karagos. It has no strategic importance—there, let me show you the map..." She walks to the heavy wooden bookcase in the corner and begins to rummage through the shelves.

I glance at Oliver, and he gives me a wink.

"My friend," he says. "Looks like this girl is the best thing that could have happened to us."

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