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Sometime late in the night I woke to a soft sound in my suite. My mind was instantly alert, my senses tingling. A shadow flickered across the window, a form momentarily silhouetted against the glass.

My heart pounded like a horse’s hooves. Someone was in the room—someone other than Aric, who was fast asleep beside me, his breathing soft and steady.

My hand crept towards the knife on the nightstand.

Paper rustled, followed by the scratch of a metal nib. Glass clinked faintly as the midnight scribe dipped their pen. The intruder was taking pains to be quiet, but letter writing was not a silent pursuit.

It was also, to my knowledge, not the typical pastime of would-be assassins. They tended to complete their business and leave without signing off on their work. Which meant that whoever had entered my chambers was not here for blood.

I closed my hand around the knife’s hilt and sat up quietly, not wanting to wake my husband. “Who’s there?”

The pen’s scratching abruptly ceased. As my eyes adjusted, I picked out the outline of a figure stooped over my bureau, quill in hand. A faint sigh, and then the person straightened into a familiar silhouette.

“My apologies, your Grace.” The voice brushed my ears, as light as the touch of a feather. A familiar voice. One I’d heard nearly every day for the past decade of my life. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Julieta.” The word hissed out as a sigh. Relief loosened my fingers around the dagger hilt. But I didn’t release it entirely. “What are you doing?”

“I was writing my letter of resignation, my lady.”

I sat up, frowning. I’d been worried about my apothecary’s safety for days. The last thing I’d expected was for her to show up in the dead of night, safe, but with the intent to quit.

Aric stirred in his sleep. I flashed a look at him to make sure he hadn’t woken, then slipped my legs out from under the covers and stood, leaving the knife on the nightstand. I crossed the room to Julieta and took her by the elbow.

“Come with me, please. I want a proper explanation, not a letter.”

My attendant allowed me to steer her out of the bedchamber, into my personal washroom. I shut the door behind us and whispered the command to illuminate the chamber’s Adept-forged lanterns.

They flickered to life, revealing my apothecary. Julieta was dressed entirely in close-fitting black, a hood pushed back from her face. Shadows highlighted the guilt on her face.

“Explain,” I said, keeping my voice low. “You told me before that your home is where I am. What caused this change of heart?”

“My heart is the same, my lady.” Julieta’s lips pressed together into a thin line. “But a would-be assassin has no place in your retinue, however devoted she might be to you.”

For a moment, shock cast me in stone. Julieta was the assassin? I would never have believed it, but—my thoughts raced, tying the loose threads together. The way the attacker had come through my rooms without alerting my guards. The knife of Damarian make found in Aric’s bedchamber. How the assassin hadn’t attacked me—only Aric; I’d only been injured because I’d put myself in the way. The mystery of why Julieta hadn’t been imprisoned with the rest of my retinue, and why no one had heard from her since my wedding night.

“I see,” I said slowly. “But why?”

Julieta looked down at the tiled floor. “I was planning to confess everything in the letter.”

“Well, here we are. Now’s your opportunity.” I folded my arms. “I’ve cared for you like family for many years. You at least owe me an explanation.”

Julieta sighed. She ran a hand through her hair, disrupting its sleek coif.

“Please believe me, your Grace, I never intended to put you in any danger. Some months ago, your parents gave me a commission for a very particular poison. I was reluctant to make it, especially without knowing its intended use, but they made it clear that my continued employment was contingent upon agreeing. I hoped it was merely one of their precautions, that nothing would come of it. But when the Gilden queen unexpectedly fell ill… well, I knew the symptoms of my own poison, even if I’d never expected it to be used in such a way.

“By the time I learned the rest of the plan, it was too late to back out. They had the evidence to lay the queen’s death at my feet.”

Anger glowed in my chest, a hot coal of old resentment. “Blackmail.”

Julieta nodded, shamefaced. “I didn’t want to kill again, but I told myself that at least I was serving your Grace. Everything I knew about Aric suggested he would be a cruel husband to you.”

To be fair, Aric hadn’t given either of us a good initial impression—though that was hardly an excuse for murder.

“They ordered you to kill him,” I confirmed. “And you agreed.”

Julieta nodded, guilt torquing her mouth. “But I swear, your Grace—had I known it would endanger you, I would never have gone along with the plan. I had no inkling of Varin’s machinations. I never suspected that you would be framed, or that you would be coerced into marrying him instead. I never once intended to harm you.”

I believed her. I could see how the situation had spiraled: Julieta had told Evito what happened in the bedchamber; Evito had relayed it to Varin; and Varin had seized the opportunity and sent guards to intercept me at the border, not knowing his half brother’s curse was cyclical. Julieta couldn’t have predicted that course of events—even Evito hadn’t anticipated Varin twisting the failed assassination attempt to his advantage.

“And since then?” I asked. “Where have you been? Did Evito harm you?”

Surprise flickered behind Julieta’s eyes, followed by caution. “No, my lady. I’ve been in hiding. First in the ambassadorial wing, and then, after I learned of Varin’s plans and argued with Dapaz over them, in the city.” She looked away from me, her shoulders bowed. “And now you know everything, so there’s no need to finish writing my resignation letter.”

“No,” I agreed, “there isn’t.”

Julieta nodded, with the face of a prisoner who had just received confirmation of her own execution. “I’m glad you’ve found a happy marriage after all, my lady. And… I’m sorry. I know you might never forgive me, but… I’ll always remember you fondly.”

She made to move past me, to slip through the washroom door and out of my life. I laid a hand over the latch, stopping her.

Julieta looked up, her expression melding regret and resolve. “I’m sorry, your Grace, but I do value my life. I have no wish to fight you, but I won’t stay to be executed.”

“Julieta,” I said firmly. “I haven’t accepted your resignation.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Your Grace?”

“You’re the best attendant I could ask for, an excellent apothecary, and a dear friend.” I reached for her hand and took it in both of mine. “I forgive you, Julieta. And I want you to stay.”

Julieta’s eyes widened further. “Even though…”

“Yes,” I said firmly. “Even though. I need people I can trust beside me.” I gave her a wry smile. “And besides… knowing I have a skilled assassin at my disposal isn’t the worst thing, either.”

Julieta choked out a laugh. “Not so skilled, considering I failed at my only assassination attempt to date. And I’m not entirely sure your husband would agree.”

“Perhaps not yet. But I’m sure it won’t take long for him to trust you like I do once he hears the whole story.”

The corners of Julieta’s eyes were glinting in the lantern light. “Thank you, my lady. I won’t prove you wrong.”

I squeezed her hand. “If that’s settled, I would very much like to get back to bed. I’ll expect a full supply of your tonics by the end of the day tomorrow.”

“Of course, my lady.” A smile flitted across her face. It suited her much better than regret.

As we returned to the bedchamber, Julieta brushed her hand beneath her eyes. Quickly enough that both of us could pretend I didn’t notice.

?Three days later, I stood beside Aric in the arboretum, accompanied by a dozen guards. Marya stood at my husband’s right hand, Tatiana beside her, a touch closer than necessary given the space available. My sister hadn’t been officially confirmed as ambassador yet—the Council liked arguing far too much to come to quick resolutions on anything, even simple matters—but I had the impression she was staying no matter what their decision. Tatiana wasn’t in the habit of changing her mind once she had made it up. I hoped Marya was prepared.

In front of us, flanked by guards, stood Varin. His hands were free, but soldiers surrounded him on all sides, and the arboretum, while large, was walled. Moreover, Tatiana hadn’t disguised her interest in additional experiments, and Marya’s hand was blatantly close to her saber’s hilt.

We had come to an agreement about Varin’s fate. It was unclear whether Varin also agreed, since all that came out of his mouth when he tried to speak was a series of undignified croaks; whatever Tatiana had done to him seemed to be sticking. But since he hadn’t contributed any viable alternatives, we’d decided to proceed.

Aric stepped forward to face his half brother.

“Varin of Gildenheim,” he said, “I formally sentence you to exile. You are to leave Gildenheim in peace and never return, on pain of immediate arrest and execution. If you ever conspire against this realm or my reign”—unlikely, I thought, given Varin’s current vocabulary—“I will make it known you are wanted with a generous bounty, dead or alive. Do we have an agreement?”

Varin said nothing, but he glowered at Aric in a manner that suggested otherwise.

“If you don’t accept the terms,” Marya put in, “I’d be more than happy to run you through right now.”

Varin hastily backed away from her, raising his hands with a pacifying croak.

“Excellent,” Aric said. “I’ll take that as agreement.” He nodded to one of his guards, who stepped forward. An enameled brass spittoon gleamed in her hands. Aric was taking no chances on his half brother having a final dagger up his sleeve: one of his most trusted guards would be personally seeing Varin as far as Damaria, where his exile would formally begin. My parents had a hand in creating this mess—it was only fair that they dealt with the consequences.

“It’s a seven-league spittoon,” Tatiana explained cheerfully, as Varin gave the cuspidor a wary look. “Works just like the legendary boots. All you have to do is hold the rim and take a step in any direction.”

The guard stepped beside Varin and held the spittoon towards him, ready to grip together. Varin regarded it with obvious reluctance.

“If you’d prefer—” Marya offered, starting to draw her saber.

She didn’t get the chance to finish. Varin emitted a bilious croak, wrenched the seven-league spittoon out of the startled guard’s hands, and was gone in a single step before anyone could react.

For a moment, appalled silence fell over the assembly. Then an entire chorus broke out at once: the appointed guard apologizing profusely, Tatiana irate over the loss of her spittoon, half the soldiers zealously offering to track Varin down.

Aric raised a hand, and everyone fell silent.

“Let it be,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “His sentence of exile stands. If he turns up croaking around the borders with that spittoon…” He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Well, we’ll deal with it then.”

Marya slid her sword back into its sheath with a disappointed huff. “I knew I should have run him through when I had the chance.”

Tatiana tapped a thoughtful finger to her chin. “Do you think he realized he was aiming for the sea?”

Aric opened his mouth, looking distressed, then shut it again. He stared towards the horizon for a long moment, his thoughts unreadable.

I touched his hand. Aric shook himself and turned to me, offering his arm.

“Walk with me?”

“With pleasure.” I hooked my arm through his. A few guards trailed us at a respectable distance, far enough back to afford our conversation privacy.

Aric led me deep into the arboretum. Flowers were starting to open in the places where sunlight fell between the evergreens: crocuses blooming purple and gold, spots of color as bright as jewels against the rich dark earth.

Aric was quiet for a while, and I let him ponder. Being around him had taught me to wait for his answers. They were there if I was patient, emerging like stars in the evening sky.

“I know this isn’t how you think,” I said eventually, “but he was going to kill you, one way or another. You’re offering him more than anyone else thinks he deserves.”

Aric sighed. “I know. But this wasn’t what I wanted. I never saw Varin as an enemy. I never wished him harm.”

I squeezed his arm. “I know.”

“I keep wondering…” Aric’s face was troubled. “Maybe if I’d been a better brother, if I’d tried to reach out to him instead of hiding myself away…”

I stopped and waited for him to face me. “He made his own decisions, Aric. You did what was necessary to protect yourself and your people. You can’t blame yourself for the choices Varin made.”

“Maybe,” Aric said. But I could see he didn’t fully agree, even if he wished he could. Knowing something was true didn’t equate to believing it. This was a knot that could only be untangled with time.

Aric shook his head. “Never mind Varin. We can speak of him some other day. That wasn’t why I wanted you to walk with me.”

I tilted my head to look up at him. “Oh?”

Spots of color brightened Aric’s cheeks. “Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

He drew away from me, far enough to fumble in the pocket of his coat. “In Gildenheim, we have a tradition. When two people are to be wed, one gifts the other with a token to display their intentions.”

I didn’t try to hide my smile. “Aric, we’re already married, in every sense of the word. I would say your intentions are clear.”

“I know that.” He was blushing harder now, which made me want to interrupt his words with my lips. “But the circumstances of our engagement were… less than ideal. And I would like to make up for that. To formally offer you the choice of being my wife.”

He opened his hand. On his palm, gleaming in the morning light, was a familiar silver locket.

“Bianca Liliana, flower of Damaria. Will you choose me as your husband, as I choose you to be my wife?”

Now I was smiling so hard it threatened to hurt. “Aric of Gildenheim. Did you just propose to me with the same locket that turned you into a horse?”

His mouth quirked into a wry smile. “You haven’t given me an answer.”

I plucked the locket from his hand and closed the distance between us with a single step. I hooked my arms around his neck and pressed my brow to his, looking into his eyes.

“Yes,” I said simply. “I choose you with all my heart.”

Choosing what I wanted was a risk. Discarding my armor and revealing my heart was a danger. But as Aric kissed me in the spring sunshine, I was finally ready to be brave. I would no longer take the safe road that behooved me, but run instead along whichever path led to the man I loved.

It was worth the risk, for now and always.