At the hallway leading into the palace proper, Wil took a second to pull in another breath, then turned a corner and almost crashed into another man.

  The newcomer was a stranger, a man finely dressed in a black tunic with a black riding cape draped over his shoulders, black hair spilling down onto those same shoulders. His skin was snow white and his eyes were so pale they disappeared into the whites at a certain angle. A lord, though Wil had never seen him before. Probably a local to Shihoa, if he had to guess.

  ‘Forgive me,’ he said quickly.

  ‘For what?’ the stranger asked. ‘No blame to be found for not seeing me. I didn’t see you either.’

  Wil offered a small bow and stepped to the side to let the lord through, but a hand caught his shoulder and stopped him.

  ‘There’s sadness in you, young master,’ the lord said. ‘Tonight is for celebration, isn’t it?’

  Wil flinched at the echo of Rhoswen’s words. ‘Only my own personal melancholy, sir,’ he said. ‘I have plenty of time to celebrate also.’

  The lord’s eyes narrowed. ‘Not an easy liar, are you, boy?’

  I doubt that. ‘Sir?’

  ‘I am asking, that is all,’ the lord said. ‘Wouldn’t you feel better to speak freely?’

  ‘It’s not anything serious, sir,’ Wil said. ‘I swear.’

  ‘Then there will be no harm in talking to me, will there?’

  Maybe this lord had nothing better to do. Maybe, like Heddwyn, he wasn’t social in the same way the other nobles were. Either way, Wil had already been shown with a stern hand that refusing wasn’t an option. ‘I only have minor concerns, sir,’ he mumbled. ‘I worry the celebrations might be… premature.’

  The lord nodded, his face sullen. ‘I would be lying if I said I don’t have the same concerns.’

  Wil blinked. ‘Really?’

  ‘You’ll find many here have the same concerns,’ the lord said. ‘It is a matter of keeping face. My own personal history with the Wild Folk tells me that they will not simply turn away from something so… extreme.’

  ‘Do you believe it’s final?’ Wil asked. Inside, he was screaming at himself to shut up. Years ago he’d learned the hard way about asking such direct questions. ‘The separation from the living world and Réimse Fiáin?’

  ‘I forgot Eldwylle had their own name for their world,’ the lord said. A sly smile spread across his face. ‘I quite like it.’

  ‘I don’t know if they have their own name for it,’ Wil said. ‘I’ve never met a Wild Folk to ask.’

  The lord blinked. ‘I suppose that would make it difficult. But ah, of course, your question. I must say I don’t have an answer. This is the first time the worlds have been as separated as they are. It’s impossible to predict what might come of it. Though I suppose, that must be what worries you.’

  Wil nodded. ‘Something like that.’

  ‘The way I see it, there is only one thing that is certain here,’ the lord said. ‘If the consequences are coming, the best thing to do is sit back and observe. These things will have a natural follow through, and that is something the people in charge cannot escape.’

  Wil shivered. He’d heard that kind of sentiment before, directed at Shihoa. A kingdom that never lost a war, that claimed any territory it decided it wanted. Eventually they would lose. Many staff in Eldwylle prayed for it. For the whole commonwealth to fall though? ‘Not tonight, I hope,’ he mumbled.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘There are children here,’ Wil said.

  ‘Children will always learn about consequences,’ the lord said. ‘They will learn what legacy has been left for them and what it means if they follow it. That is the way the world works.’

  A cold chill ran down the back of Wil’s spine at the words. It wasn’t just the words themselves, but the way he said it, so final. It reminded Wil of the same hollow feeling that claimed him at the sight of the Split. The emptiness of it made him want to shrink down and down until he slipped between the cracks of the stone and disappeared.

  Footsteps echoed out behind him, and Wil turned to see a Resei ducking around a corner, disappearing into another part of the palace. He turned back to the lord, but the man had vanished. Wil stood alone in the large corridor, with no sign the strange lord had been there at all.

  He was alone. Completely alone. Now the hollowness was everywhere, swallowing him. If the royals saw the brunt of a retaliation, what would it mean for him, for the others like him? The servants, the assistants, the Resei?

  Wil sucked in a deep breath. He couldn’t let any of this show in front of Heddwyn, in front of Rhoswen. When he was sure it was under control, he made his way back upstairs, though he saw no sign of the strange lord dressed in black.

  Instead he came back upstairs to a fight.

  The older boys of the two Jer?vica tribes were locked in an argument that had won the attention of most of the room. The one on the right was half out of his chair, leaning over the two tribe leaders to better speak at the other. Both looked the same age, the one on the right pale with a narrow face that couldn’t quite hold a beard, while the one on the left was dark skinned with long hair woven with dozens of feathers. The dark-skinned son was angry, his posture locked and his arms knotted together. Both of their voices carried over the others still caught in their own conversation.

  ‘What did I miss?’ Wil asked Heddwyn, sinking back down into his seat.

  Heddwyn shrugged. ‘They’re arguing about tribal stuff. Something hunting or gathering. At least something interesting is happening.’

  The pale boy thrust up out of his chair completely, and the woman Wil hadn’t placed – the envoy, maybe – leapt up with him and tapped his shoulder. The boy lashed around, but in a move faster than he could see, the woman caught the wildly flung arm and pinned it in one quick movement.

  ‘You’ve been told to stop.’ Her voice was cold, even, firm. Her accent was different from the two tribes from what Wil had heard. He’d heard about a city being erected in the Jer?vica territory, and he wondered if she represented them.

  The boy pulled his arm free of her grip. ‘He’s the one who—’

  ‘I’m ending it. Now.’ The woman was a good head smaller than him, but she held his gaze. ‘Both of you excuse yourself. Go and calm down.’

  Neither boy moved, until one of the tribe leaders thumbed the standing boy hard in the back. ‘You heard her. Outside.’

  The pale boy slumped, then turned and shuffled out one of the arches onto a balcony. The dark skinned boy made to follow, but the woman stopped him, pointing towards a staircase on the other side of the room. The second boy didn’t argue, only stomped down into the palace and out of sight.

  The red-haired knight was still standing nearby, watching the scene with the same curious concentration.

  ‘Interesting tactic.’ The Bulartuug King spoke up then, watching them as intently as his knight was. ‘Do you often let your scribe give the orders in your kingdom?’

  The leader on the right glared at him, and as the woman took the now empty seat next to him, he squeezed her shoulder. ‘This is not politics,’ the tribal leader said. ‘It is family, and my boy sees me as a father first. If he listens to Mala, then he will listen to Mala. At least he listens to someone.’

  ‘It makes me curious about the state of your leadership is all,’ the Bulartuug King said. ‘Where a Scribe can take orders.’

  ‘You don’t mean to disrespect me, surely,’ the tribe leader said. ‘Mala is here as a historian, yes, but she is a respected member of my court. Would you offer the same comments to the Eldwylle King because his son travels with a retainer? Or is their retainer able to pass orders to the young prince because he knows the role they must all play?’

  A few heads turned to glance at Wil, and Wil shrank into his chair at the mention.

  ‘I must agree with Chief Nedim,’ Rhoswen said. ‘You brought with you a knight of your court? I suspect she’s not there just for intimidation, since we’re all on the same side. If she were to offer advice from the position of a protector, would you not take her word for it?’

  ‘Why I brought my knight here is my business alone,’ the Bulartuug King said.

  ‘Enough.’ The High Emperor’s voice boomed through the room, cutting off even the straggling conversations. ‘This conversation is redundant. It ends here.’

  Silence followed his words, and a few shifted awkwardly, the middle tables twisting around to pretend they hadn’t been watching at all. The Bulartuug King glanced back at his knight, and the knight glanced his way, then lifted her head and stared at Wil again. Wil met her gaze, silently demanding she explain herself, to show why she had such an intense fascination with watching him.

  Her head snapped to the side, and a scream echoed up from the staircase below.