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“Can we have that thing removed?” She waved her hand at the dead snake only to gape as it collapsed in on itself before turning to dust.

She blinked. “Um, Gustav…”

“I saw it,” was his grim reply. “The blood on you is gone too.” She glanced at her nightdress, damp from her mopping but otherwise stain-free.

“How is that possible?” she whispered.

“Foul magic.”

“Magic isn’t real,” she scoffed.

“That’s where you’re wrong, my queen. Magic exists, it’s just not prevalent on Daerva.”

“You can’t be serious?” she squeaked. The very idea astonished.

“Daerva is actually the only continent where magic doesn’t flourish. But that isn’t the case elsewhere. Merisu has witches advising their Emperor, while Pequilh employs warlocks in their army. You should have learned this already.”

“I didn’t think they could actually wield magic,” she exclaimed. “Does this snake mean we have a warlock or witch in our midst?”

“Doubtful. More likely the spell used to conjure the snake was bought outside of Daerva and smuggled in, given our laws banning its use.”

“Smuggled how?” she asked with a frown.

Gustav rummaged in the closet before emerging, holding a clay figurine of a serpent. “The culprit. The magic that conjured the snake most likely resided within it.”

“Felt real when I stabbed it.”

“Because in that moment, it was. Luckily, you killed it before it could cause harm. Now to ensure it doesn’t create another.” He dropped the object to the floor and stamped it with his boot, breaking it into shards.

“I wonder if it was responsible for my lamp not working and you sleeping so soundly,” she mused aloud.

“Most likely.”

“Do you think there are more?” She eyed the room suspiciously.

“Doubtful. My understanding is that because embedding magic into an object can be taxing, purchasing those totems is costly. That said, we should be prudent.”

She rubbed her forehead. “This is too much for me to handle this early on an empty stomach. I’m going to scrounge up some breakfast.” Dawn had arrived while they dealt with the snake, and she found herself hungry, although she could have donewithout the attention that came when she arrived in the dining hall. Despite the early hour, many of the guards stationed within the palace were seated along with some of the servants, and even a few early rising lords and ladies.

Once more Avera felt judged. People watched her every move as she went to the buffet and piled her plate under Gustav’s watchful eye. He took nothing for himself but stood a few paces behind her chair when she sat.

Sat alone because no royal family remained to fill the seats flanking her. Previous to now, she’d occupied a spot at a table in the corner rather than with her family. An outcast in her own home, but even she had to admit it was by choice. The queen had designated the end seat at the head table as hers. Avera just rarely used it.

To her surprise, one of the ladies in attendance approached and curtsied. “Your Majesty.” The woman remained with head bowed, legs bent.

“Lady Vienna.” Avera knew the matron by sight but had never spoken to her.

“My condolences on the tragedy,” said Lady Vienna as she rose and clasped her hands in front of her.

“Thank you.” What else could Avera say, even as it sounded trite. This was more than a tragedy. It was the absolute darkest moment in their history.

“Should you require anything, I do hope you’ll call upon me.”

Rather than ask, “Whatever for?” Avera muttered, “That’s most kind of you.”

After an awkward pause, Lady Vienna left and Avera leaned back to say, “What does she think I need?”

“In her case, I’m thinking it’s about her marriageable son, recently widowed.”