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“I have,” the princess confirmed, but instead of looking pleased, sadness touched her eyes. “It was a gift from my girlfriend, something she gave me before —” Mirryn broke off and looked away, quietly correcting, “Ex-girlfriend, now.”

“I’m sorry, Mirry,” Kiva said softly.

Just as softly, the princess said, “I really thought she was the one, you know?”

There was so much pain in her voice that Kiva nearly hugged her, but she resisted, unsure how it would be received. “Did she ever write back and explain why she wanted to break up?”

The princess nodded and shared, somewhat bitterly, “Her family got involved. They didn’t think we were a good match.”

Kiva stared. “Don’t they know who you are?”

“It’sbecauseof who I am that they don’t approve,” Mirryn said. “Apparently they don’t want a princess in the family. Go figure.” Before Kiva could utter her shocked disbelief, Mirryn went on, her tone forcefully brighter, “There’s nothing to be done about it, but at least Ididget a gorgeous gown to wear to my party. My ex always had such brilliant taste in clothes — wait until you see it, Kiva. Your dress is beautiful, but mine is spectacular.”

There was a desperate look in Mirryn’s eyes, as if she were begging Kiva not to ask anything else that might make her hurt more. But Kiva had no intention of doing so, not when the princess had shown her a rare kindness that day. Instead, she held her tongue as Mirryn went on to describe her dress, and then eventually bid her farewell.

Releasing an exhausted sigh as soon as she was alone, Kiva checked the time, and was dismayed to see that it was already well past noon. She immediately began panicking about everything she still had to do, before realizing she was fretting over nothing. Her trip out to Blackwater Bog shouldn’t take much time — assuming her grandmother didn’t have a midweek book club meeting — so she could allow herself a few minutes to relax.

But with Mirryn gone, Kiva’s earlier unease began to creep in again. What she really needed, she decided, was some normalcy. Too much of her time lately had been spent with royals; she desperately wanted to see another friendly face, someone who didn’t live in a palace.

A plan quickly formed in Kiva’s mind: she would seek out Rhessinda at Silverthorn and, if she was free, enjoy a nice lunch with her, after which she would borrow one of the academy’s horses and ride to Murkwood Cottage. If all went as intended, she would be gone and back long before nightfall, with no one even knowing she’d left the city.

Pleased with herself, Kiva tucked her amulet beneath her sweater and left her room. Eager to avoid the masquerade chaos, she hurried to the front gates, nearly breaking her neck when she tripped over one of the many gardeners scattering luminium drops along the hedges in preparation for the party.

After an easy walk along the river, Kiva felt considerably more relaxed by the time she reached Silverthorn. Failing to spot Rhessinda in the sanctuary, Kiva entered the largest of the infirmaries, the one for treating illnesses and injuries, and approached the reception area.

“Excuse me,” Kiva said to the registrar, a young man with square glasses. “I’m looking for Rhessinda Lorin.”

“What’s she in for?”

“Pardon?”

“Is she sick? Hurt? Tell me why she’s here, and I’ll direct you to the correct ward. They’ll be able to give you her room number.”

Kiva shook her head. “No, she’s a healer.”

“Oh.” The man straightened his glasses. “Sorry, I’m new.”

He said nothing else, so Kiva asked, “Can you tell me where to find her?”

Sending her a bland look, he replied, “Do you know how many healers work here?”

He then lowered his head and returned to his work.

Torn between amusement and incredulity at his rudeness, Kiva turned and left the infirmary. Seeing a small group of young healers eating lunch together on the grass, she headed in their direction.

“Sorry to bother you,” she said to them, “but can you point me in the direction of Healer Rhessinda?”

Blank stares and head shakes met her question, with one saying, “We’re novices. The only healers we know are our teachers.”

Sighing, Kiva thanked them, then returned to the path. As she debated her next steps, she passed three older healers, but none were able to offer any insight into her friend’s location. She was just about to try the remaining infirmaries when she belatedly remembered what Rhess had said about working the morning shifts — and it was no longer morning.

With her lunch plans foiled, Kiva decided to cut her losses and treat herself regardless, leaving the academy and wandering back down to the river where she indulged in a chocabun — or three — and a serving of roasted vegetables flooded in gravy. Fully satisfied, she returned to Silverthorn and headed to the stables, pleased to be met by the same stableboy as last time.

Smiling at him, Kiva politely requested that he prepare her a mount. He squinted at her clothes, clearly noting that she wasn’t wearing a healer’s robe — nor was she accompanied by Rhess this time — but he seemed to remember her and, with a shrug, took off into the small barn. Minutes later, he returned leading Bluebell by the reins.

“You have a good memory,” Kiva said, handing him a silver coin for his troubles — courtesy of Jaren and his royal coffers.

“She liked you,” the boy said shyly. “I thought you’d want to ride her again.”