In the beginning

"They found Nathan this eve, exactly outside the blood Forest, dead."

I looked up from my cards and across the crimson-painted covering to the three men sitting at the table. I had chosen this area for a reason. I had…felt nothing from them as I drifted between the crowded tables earlier.

No pain, physical or emotional.

Naturally, I didn't prod to see if someone was in pain. Doing so without a motive felt remarkably interfering, but in public, it was hard to control just how much I allowed myself to feel.

There was always someone whose pain cut so deeply, was so thick, that their anguish became a discernible entity I didn't even have to open my senses to feel—that I couldn't ignore and walk away from.

They propelled their agony onto the world around them.

I was forbidden to do anything but ignore. To never speak of the gift vested upon me by the gods and to never, ever go beyond sensing to doing something about it.

Not that I always did what I was supposed to do.

But these men were fine when I reached out with my senses to avoid those in great pain, which was unexpected, given what they did for a living.

They were guards from the Rise—the mountainous wall built from the limestone and iron dug from the Konate Peaks.

Ever since the War of Two Kings ended four 100 years ago, the Rise had encompassed all of Lasadonia, and every city in the Kingdom of Brok was safeguarded by a Rise.

Smaller versions surrounded villages and training posts, farming communities, and other sparsely populated towns.

What the guards saw regularly, what they had to do, often left them in anguish, whether it is from injuries or from what went deeper than torn skin and bruised bones.

Tonight, they weren't just absent of distress, but also their armour and uniforms. Instead, they wore loose shirts and buckskin breeches.

Nevertheless, I knew, even off duty, they were vigilant for signs of the dreaded mist and the horror that came with it, and for those who worked against the future of the kingdom. They were still armed to the teeth.

As was I.

Concealed beneath the folds of the cloak and the thin gown I wore underneath, the cool hilt of a dagger that never quite warmed to my skin was clad against my thigh.

Gifted to me on my sixteenth birthday, it wasn't the only weapon I had acquired nor the deadliest, but it was my favourite.

The handle was shaped from the bones of a long-extinct wolven—a creature that had been neither man nor beast but both—and the blade made of bloodstone smoothed to fatal sharpness.

I may yet again be in the process of doing something incredibly irrational, inappropriate, and entirely forbidden, but I wasn't unreasonable enough to enter a place like the Red Pearl without protection, the skill to employ it, and the wherewithal to seize that weapon and skill and use them without hesitation.

"Dead?" the other guard said a younger one with brown hair and a soft face.

I imagined his name might be Matt, and he couldn't be much older than my eighteen years.

"He wasn't merely dead. Nathan was drained of blood, his flesh chewed up like wild dogs had a whack at him, and then torn to pieces."

My cards blurred as tiny balls of ice cropped up in the pit of my stomach. Wild dogs didn't do that.

Not to mention, there weren't any wild dogs near the Blood Forest, the sole place in the world where the trees bled, staining the bark and the leaves a deep crimson.

There were rumours of other animals, overly large rodents, and scavengers that preyed upon the carcasses of those who lingered too long in the forest.

"And you know what that indicates," Matt went on.

"They must be near. An attack will—"

"Not certain this is the right conversation to be having," an older guard cut in.

I knew of him, Thomas Rathi. He'd been on the Rise for years, which was almost unheard of. Guards didn't have long lifespans. He nodded in my direction.

"You're in the behaviour of a lady."

A lady?

Only the Ascended were called Ladies, but I similarly wasn't someone anyone, particularly those in this building, would expect to be inside the Red Pearl.

If I was found out, I would be in…well, more trouble than I'd ever been in before and would face harsh reprimand.

The sort of punishment that Dorian Walter, the Duke of Lasadonia, would just love to deliver. And which, of course, his close comrade, Lord Brandole Morrison, would love to be in attendance for.

Tension surfaced as I looked at the dark-skinned guard. There was no way Thomas could know who I was.

The top half of my face was covered by the white domino mask I had found dumped in the Queen's Gardens ages ago, and I wore a plain robin's egg blue cloak I had, uh, borrowed from Ivy, one of the many castle servants who I'd overheard conversing about the Red Pearl.

Hopefully, Ivy wouldn't discover her missing overcoat before I returned it in the morn.

Even without the guise, though, I could count on one hand how many people in Lasadonia had caught a glimpse of my face, and none of them would be here tonight.

As the Maiden, the Chosen, a veil usually covered my face and hair at all times, except for my lips and jaw.

I doubted Thomas could identify me simply on those features, and if he had, none of them would still be sitting here.

I would be in the process of being dragged back, albeit gently, to my guardians, the Duke and Duchess of Lasadonia.

There was no reason to fear.

Forcing the muscles along my shoulders and neck to ease, I smiled. "I am no Lady. You are more than welcome to talk about whatever you wish."

"Be that as it may, a little less morbid topic would be welcomed, " Thomas replied, sending a sharp look in the direction of the other two guards.

Matt held up his gaze to mine. "My apologies."

"Apologies not needed but accepted."