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First the messengers, now the twins. Was there no one I could trust?

Takkan passed me a towel when I spilled some soup on the table, but still I didn’t look up at him. He touched my arm. “Shiori, don’t be like this.”

His voice was tight. He had a right to be angry at me for avoiding him without explanation after so much time apart. Patient as he was, I could tell he was frustrated.

“Do you remember what I told you,” he said, more gently, “many months ago when you were still trapped under that wooden bowl? If anything should trouble you, don’t hide from me.”

“Nothing’s troubling me,” I lied, immediately regretting it. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Don’t lie to me. Please.” He looked worried. “Will you at least let me guess?”

“There’s nothing to g—”

“Is it what happened with the villagers?”

I said nothing. With my free hand, I doused the fire under the pot with a splash of water.

“Is it the betrothal ceremony?” His tone danced the narrow line between caution and humor. “If you and Kiki are planning on taking another summer swim tomorrow afternoon…”

Curse Takkan. I looked up, and seeing the concern etched on his brow, the mirth twinkling in his eyes, I couldn’t help but soften.

“No swim.” That was all I would say. I poured out my soup and dusted my hands.

“What a waste of soup.” He stared dolefully after the empty pot.

He looked so genuinely disappointed I couldn’t smother my laugh in time, and as he smiled, like magic, the last of my resolve to avoid him melted away.

“I’ll make you another batch,” I promised. “Out of fresh, unenchanted vegetables.” Still laughing at him, I linked my arm with his. “Come, walk me home.”

* * *

The palace was beautiful at night. Lanterns bobbed from the eaves, and fireflies flickered over the garden ponds. Takkan and I walked side by side, our steps falling into a natural rhythm. It would have been a perfect evening if not for the secrets I held. I sensed Takkan was holding something back as well.

He wasn’t naturally chatty, but usually our silence was comfortable, easy. Not tonight.

“Takkan…” I knelt. “What’s on your mind?”

“The meeting with the ministers this morning,” Takkan confessed. “It didn’t go so well. I think we should leave for Lapzur sooner than we planned. You’re not safe here.”

I almost laughed. Hawar and his nest of bureaucrats were the least of my troubles. “Don’t tell me you’re concerned about the hornets,” I said with a dismissive chuckle. “What a worrywart you are. Father would have them flayed for scowling at me.”

“That might be, but I wouldn’t discount their influence, Shiori. Hawar’s especially. After what happened in the mountains, your father’s promised that you won’t leave the palace again.”

That was news, and I rolled my eyes. “Did he, now? What did that rat Hawar say to him?” I rummaged in my bag for the mirror of truth. “No, don’t tell me, I’ll look for myself. It’s about time I learned to use this, anyway.”

I rubbed the glass clean and held it high. “Mirror, show me what the ministers said.”

The mirror misted, then it dove inside the Hornet’s Nest, showing the ministers sitting along the paneled walls and Father standing in the center, with a mourning sash over his kingly robes.

“You cannot ignore it, Your Majesty!” cried Minister Pahan in vociferous protest. “Just yesterday, Shiori’anma visited the Holy Mountains. While she was there, the earth quaked—”

“The earth quakes often, regardless of my daughter’s presence,” Father said sharply.

“The demons reacted to her influence,” Minister Caina insisted. “She is a peril—her magic plagues our land! We must send her away.”

“Send the sorcerer away too!” the ministers clamored.

“What if sending her away isn’t enough? There are thousands of demons in the Holy Mountains, sire. If one can escape, surely it’s only a matter of time before the others do too. Perhaps we should listen to the priestesses. There have been bloodsakes for centuries. Each one has been sacrificed to keep Kiata safe, and Kiata has been safe—until Shiori’anma!”