"I can't believe you got the best room—again!"

Rina and the other Denese hurried along the corridor, toward the centre of the complex. Anya's steps were brisk, her movements those of someone behind schedule as she led them to their destination.

Beside her, Anat grumbled away. Rina's mouth quirked.

"Say that to your sister back home. I'd say Anah would tell you exactly what she thought if she could see you whinging like this, and as for Nadab, well he'd—"

Anat's face fell.

"Oh shit, Anat, I'm so sorry."

The attachment between Anat and her neighbour, Nadab, was common knowledge in their district. As was the way Anat's younger sister's eyes followed Nadab. Their parents had requested an official pairing. The last Rina heard, they awaited the outcome. The match was impossible now. However, if a union between the families was favoured, with Anat gone, then... Oh, gods.

Anat brushed Rina's hand away, then swept the back of her hand across her eyes.

"Don't be, Rina. You're right; they'd give me hell."

Sparkling dark eyes on Rina, Anat gave her a pained smile. "It's all for Mai. My calling was here, and theirs, well, it will be what it will be.

Anat's long legs kept up with Anya's pace, but Rina struggled. She fumbled a moment in her sea-green dress and rushed to keep up.

"But that's not fair."

"Don't be stupid," said Anat, gliding through the hall. "Who said life is fair? Besides," this time, her grin grew wicked, "maybe there will be a handsome captain for me here, too."

Shaking her head, Rina laughed, until Anat said, "That captain of the guard is striking. Perhaps, with this new equality, he will—"

"Olav? No!"

Anat halted her stride. The other women overtook them, silken dresses and slippers rustling like leaves in a summer breeze. "Him—too? Are you crazy?"

Chest heaving, Rina returned her friend's wide-eyed gaze. "How many times do I have to say I'm—"

"What, Rina? Still pure?"

"Yes, Anat. I am."

"Well, you'd better be." Anat's eyes darkened. "There's no going home from here, and if we're found to be lacking, who knows what will happen to us."

"I know that."

Anat put her hands on Rina's shoulders. "And I know I like to joke and flirt, and the gods know it's not something to be proud of, but I'm careful. You need to be as well."

Rina's cheeks heated. "If the Magisterium cared so much about our reputation, they wouldn't have let me share the same quarters as the ship's captain, or forced someone with my family's—" She almost said, "my family's history to come here," but bit back the words, not wanting to give Anat any other reason to question her, and shrugged out of her touch.

"Hmpf, you're right there. It was odd, wasn't it, given most people would give their—" Anat paused, considering, and her face lit up. She leaned in close and whispered, "Some men would give their left testicle."

They both burst out laughing until Anya snapped out an order to hurry.

Still sniggering, they scurried to catch up.

They soon reached the midpoint of the building. Instead of turning left, toward the entrance, they turned right down a new passage. Red, ochre and gold replaced the greens and blues dominating the female wing, and tapestries and oil paintings depicting scenes of the bloody battle before Arkis and Elia triggered the Devastation hung on the walls. A pair of double dark-wood doors marked the end of their journey. At Anya's approach, they swung open on silent hinges, giving birth to a sight that made Rina's breath hitch.

She gaped open-mouthed at a great hall that could have gobbled the Amadore cathedral nave twice over, with room for dessert. Fluted pillars of gold-veined marble stretched to a ceiling dotted with constellations of shining stars. Lines of starburst chandelier lamps, burning green, illuminated the room. At one end, a table sat on a dais, four senior magisters, including Ro, seated there. An obsidian throne lay empty between them. Perpendicular to the stage ran four dining tables, with silver candelabras and bowls of fruit. It wasn't the ostentatious room that made her struggle to breathe—it was the face that turned to her from one of the tables.

Martha.

"Rina, are you coming?"

"Huh?" She looked to see Anat with another strange look. Further on, Sara also stilled, brows together.

She shook her head. Her words came out choked as she said, "Yes, coming."

"Is everything alright?" Anat asked.

"Right now, Anat, everything is about as perfect as it could be."

"Now I'm really worried."

Rina let Anat link arms with her as her eyes locked on Martha. She noted the change in her friend. The sallow skin now glowed, no doubt due to Nebia's warmer climate, and her willowy form had filled out, the enormous dark eyes that had seemed alien in her thin face now at home.

Martha mouthed one word: "Later," and Rina nodded.

She ended up with a seat between Sara and Mehdi, Anat having darted away to grab the only other spare chair. Mehdi didn't hide his distaste, rolling his eyes when Rina's arm bumped his.

Anger flashed through her. How dare he spoil this moment. "What?"

Mehdi's hand raised to rest at his throat, and he barked a false laugh. "I have no idea what you're referring to."

She snorted. "Sure, you don't. Try to control your face next time."

A servant cradling a carafe of wine interrupted them.

Mehdi waved his hand like a lord. The wine fizzed and bubbled as it poured into the tall crystal flute. Rina stared. She'd never seen a drink like this. Unfazed, Mehdi finished his glass by the time the young woman served Rina and indicated for another.

"Getting drunk isn't going to help with that face control," she said, sniffing at the drink.

A red flush spread across Mehdi's face. When he spoke, the practiced elocution dropped away. "Look here, ya stuck up—"

The chime of a cymbal drowned out the last of his words, with the exception of a particularly vulgar explicative. She flipped him the finger and redirected her attention to where the tall form of Magister Ro stood, her blonde hair stark against her red robes.

"Welcome all. Tonight marks a singular point in the relationship between the Magisterium, Eurans and the ancestors of Old Denea. For some years, we watched each of you."

Ro stopped speaking. Murmurs fill the room.

"Watched us?" said Mehdi. "I knew it. I knew mother was right. There was something special about—"

"Enough, Mehdi."

Mehdi rounded on Sara, leaning across the table, and forcing Rina to move back in her chair. "What's your fucking problem, Sara?" he hissed. "Haven't you had enough of being the 'special' one? Can't you share it for once, or do you have to ruin it for the rest of us?"

Sara reddened. A few of the people at the table frowned at her, eyes narrowed as they waited for her to say something. With disappointment, Rina realised Anat was one of them.

"That's not what I mean. You're twisting my words."

"Cut the crap, Sara." The words came from a petite woman whom Rina had only seen, and never spoken to. "Ever since Martha left, I've had to follow your orders—as if you were a magister."

Others at the table mumbled their agreement.

Sara's face crumpled. "I—I. That's unfair."

"What's unfair is you taking away our moment of being—something." Mehdi picked up his glass and sculled the drink. He thunked it down. "At least the Magisterium knows how to treat us. They appreciate us. They—"

Rina's fists curled as he spoke. Behaving like he was equal to a magister? The rest of them letting him. Even Anat contemplated them with amusement flickering in her eyes.

"Stop it, all of you!" The hall hushed at Rina's words, and too late, she realised she had shouted them. She began to sink into her chair, then caught Mehdi's smirk and straightened.

"Sara is right." Rina scanned her eyes around the table, her voice lowered. "The only ones acting grand here are those of you who have forgotten your place." She snatched Mehdi's empty flute, waving it for emphasis, the blue-tinged glass cold and heavy in her hands. "Drinking their wine like it were water, looking down your nose at the good, honest food they gave us on the ship."

"Says the captain's whore!" scoffed Mehdi.

Horrified, Rina glanced behind her, hoping Martha hadn't heard. A strangled expression crossed Martha's face. The colour drained from it. Rina reached for the pendant Fin had given her. No, she hadn't done anything unforgivable. She'd only kissed him. Just like she'd kissed Olav.

"Oh, quit it, will you Mehdi." Anat's words brought Rina back to the argument. "We all noticed the way you made eyes at the pretty captain—"

"Pretty captain? I did no such—"

"We all saw it. If he invited you to his cabin, you would have happily gone. You're just pissed off that you were dragged below deck kicking and screaming like a toddler, and that Sara had to clean up you're vomit."

"That's a load of—"

Anat slammed her fist next to her plate. "We all know it's not. Get over it, okay. Sara was our head medic and deserves our respect, bossy as she is, and the pretty captain preferred Rina over you."

The gong sounded again, and the grumbling died away. The flickers of flame in the eyes about the table did not.

Mehdi put his back to Rina, his elbow knocking the remainder of her wine. The tips of his ears lifted, and in her mind's eye, she imagined his smug smile. Clear golden liquid ran off the table and dripped to the floor. Carefully, she tweezered the loose silk of his shirt and place it so it caught the spilled wine.

Anat grinned at Rina and Sara from across the table, waggling her eyebrows.

"What are you doing?" mouthed Rina.

She was certain Anat responded with, "Saving your arse," but couldn't be sure.

Sara's hand slipped into Rina's. The woman gave her a reassuring squeeze, and they directed their attention back to the dais.

"As I was saying," continued Ro, ignoring the commotion her earlier words had prompted. "Each of you was watched for years—tested. Because you are unique, gifted and special individuals, selected as part of Mai's plan to restore balance to the Carnelian Way."

Rina's body went rigid—they were dangerous, not special. Her jaw clenched at Mehdi's straight spine. Each day they lived and contributed to the world was one in which they deserved to show gratitude and modesty. She peered about her. Glittering eyes. Puffed chests. Colourful, shimmering clothes. Since when had her people become peacocks? Was this the first sign of the Taint?

Once in her life, Rina encountered grandiose madness. A woman, once who arrived late to the fields time and time again. Until one day, she smiled. Next, the matted knots had been combed from her hair, and soon after, she spoke with animated conversation fixated around her purpose in serving Mai. She became the first in the field and the last person to leave, all the time talking and moving, until the words she gabbled turned into gibberish—plots against the Denese. Mai hadn't saved them—no, he had enslaved them, tricked them into being his slaves. Took—

She shook the memory from her mind.

Any time the Denese rose about their station, they put the world in danger. Arkis and Elia trying to take the crown from Mai. Her parents' and their crazed attempt to rally people and take Amadore. One that had precipitated the deaths of tens of Denese and left a trail of orphans.

So what was Mai thinking?

She didn't have to wait to find out. 

★☾●☽★

A/N: Happy Easter, everyone. And happy reading. I hope you enjoyed this instalment. If you did, don't forget to push that star. (And don't hesitate to push on any constructive feedback if you're that way inclined). Stay safe, stay far. Jas oxox