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The teal berry (or tealberry—locals seem to use both interchangeably, to this scholar’s dismay) is comparable in taste to Kasther’s popular gooseberry, but its vibrant green color gives its jams, juices, and pies a somewhat startling appearance. Don’t be intimidated! The taste is worth it. However, it is wisest not to sample other berries on the island. Several have hallucinogenic or even toxic properties.

Akeisa: A Study of Flora and Fauna

by Guildmaster Klement

Naia woke up in bed in the room she’d been assigned, which was not unusual. But she wasn’t alone in it, which was most certainly odd.

She opened her eyes. Einar lay in front of her, wide awake and facing her. “Good morning,” she whispered.

He studied her, one hand coming up to touch her cheek. “How do you feel?”

She turned her cheek to his touch, a bit confused by the question. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you had quite the adventure last night, little nymph.”

Startled, Naia rolled onto her back. Aleksi lay there, as well, one eyebrow arched, a soft smile curving his lips.

The night before was a blur. She vaguely recalled the sensation of cold stone beneath her feet, bright light, and the sound of drums.

“What happened?” she asked. “What did I do?”

“You found a secret room beneath the ruined temple,” Einar said, his brow still furrowed with concern. “There was some sort of glowing light in it, which you touched. And then you passed out.”

“I’m sorry.” She wasn’t even sure why she apologized, except that sounded like a terrifying thing to witness.

“As long as you’re all right.” Aleksi kissed her bare shoulder. “That’s all that matters.”

“I am, honestly.”

“Good. Then it’s time we make our appearance at court.”

He started to rise, but Naia caught his shirt. “Not until you explain what happened at the festival. Why you ran away from us. Was it—?” She could barely bring herself to ask the question. “Was it bad?”

“ No. ” Aleksi sat up and ran his hands through his hair. “I ran because I put you both in danger. I lost control.”

That certainly explained the mind-altering orgasms ... but not why it would be dangerous, or why Aleksi seemed so upset. “But that’s okay. I liked it. Einar?”

“The only danger was coming so hard I saw stars,” Einar replied. “It was good, Aleksi.”

Aleksi remained silent for a moment, then nodded and kissed Naia’s forehead. “We’ve already missed the first meal.”

Einar kissed her, as well, brushing his lips over hers as he stroked her hair. “And you should eat something.”

Having their mouths on her just confirmed why she didn’t particularly want to leave the room—or the bed, for that matter. But perhaps they were hungry. And the three of them really did have a job to do.

“Fine.” She sat up and cupped Aleksi’s cheek. “There will be time for this later.”

Something very much like grief flashed in his eyes, gone so quickly that Naia must have imagined it. Pain like that could not be so easily erased.

Then he smiled. “Of course.”

“Count on it.” Einar rolled from the bed. “I’ll clean up and meet you both in the corridor.”

Aleksi left, as well, and a stream of servants entered to help Naia prepare for the day. She considered dismissing them, as she had before, but it always seemed to hurt their feelings. So she let them run her bath, style her hair, and help her dress.

This time, she chose another Imperial fashion—a long split tunic over formfitting pants. With it, she donned a heavy collar of hammered metal set with irregular pearls in shades that ranged from cream to smoky gray.

Sachi would approve of the jewelry. And Zanya would almost certainly approve of the practical trousers.

Einar and Aleksi were both waiting in the hall. Aleksi was dressed in his typical clothes—tight black pants, tall boots, and a loose, flowing shirt. He looked perfect, not at all like he’d spent half the night chasing her around the island.

Einar wore a more casual version of his formal attire. He looked like exactly what he was: a pirate king, whiling away some time on land before returning to his beloved ship. He looked like himself , the way he did when he strode around the decks of the Kraken, and Naia loved it. He looked warmer, almost approachable.

Whatever had plagued Aleksi earlier, it was gone now. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “Ready?”

“Of course.”

They walked to the Grand Hall, where a luncheon had been set up along one wall. Some members of the court filled tiny plates with finger foods, while others milled about. Still others stood around the vast room, grouped up for conversations.

“There you are.” Gwynira smiled, as if pleased to see them—or Aleksi, at the very least. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d sleep all day.”

“You’ll have to pardon my lax attentions.” Aleksi bowed. “I had a bit too much fun at the bonfire celebration.”

“The local customs are fascinating.” She eyed Einar. “I heard you were fêted as a guest of great honor. Did you enjoy yourself?”

“I did,” he answered pleasantly. “It’s good to see that the old traditions live on.”

“I imagine so. Still ...” She smiled at Naia. “I’m surprised they didn’t have you light the bonfire. You’ve been the talk of the island, water goddess.”

Naia felt her cheeks grow warm. “That honor belonged to Einar, and I’m glad for him.”

“But you had a good time, yes?”

Her face was blazing hot now, surely so red that Gwynira would know exactly what sort of time she’d had at the festival.

Aleksi stepped into the silence. “It was a charming event, Grand Duchess.”

“Please— Gwynira .”

“Gwynira,” he repeated with a grin.

The convivial moment shattered as a younger member of the court, a man of about thirty years, stepped up and cleared his throat. He was dressed in military garb, the kind more suited to the parade grounds than actual battle. “I have a question for your guest, if you’ll permit me, Grand Duchess.”

“That depends,” she answered evenly. “Is it a polite question, Sir Balian?”

“Of course,” the young man replied, before inclining his head in Aleksi’s direction. “One of great respect, in fact.”

Naia very much doubted it. Something about his pinched expression made it patently clear that he was about to be snide—or worse.

But Aleksi simply gestured with an open hand. “By all means.”

Sir Balian gripped the hilt of his sword. “I have heard that you possess singular skill with a blade. In fact, there are rumors circulating here at court that you killed the Shapechanger in a duel.”

“This is true,” he confirmed, causing a chorus of gasps to rise from those gathered nearest them.

“Shocking. A fair fight, was it?”

“It was, though he did not deserve one. He had just tried to murder a fifteen-year-old girl by posing as her uncle.”

A pleased smile overtook Sir Balian’s feigned surprise. “He was considered one of the most accomplished swordsmen in the Empire. I would love to see a demonstration of skill from the man who defeated him. A friendly sparring match, perhaps?”

Arktikos coughed behind his hand, covering something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Gwynira was more forthright. “Sir Balian, we’ve just established that Lord Aleksi felled a Grand Duke in single combat. Why would you wish this?”

“Is that not how we hone our skills?” he asked innocently. “By testing ourselves against the very best we can find?”

Naia barely quelled an astonished laugh. His innocence was as feigned as his shock; he did not wish to better himself .

He truly thought he would win.

“Very well, Sir Balian. You shall have your sparring match.” Aleksi turned to face the others, the barest hint of a rueful smile on his lips. “But I am unarmed. Arktikos—a sword, if it pleases our hostess.”

The man waited for Gwynira’s nod, then removed his own from his belt and held it out. “May it serve you well.”

“Thank you.”

A prickle of warning raised the fine hairs on Naia’s nape. “Aleksi, must you do this?”

He pitched his voice so low that only she and Einar had a chance of hearing it. “He’s harmless, little nymph.” He tilted her head up. “Still, may I have your favor?”

She leaned up and kissed his cheek, pausing to whisper, “Take care. Imperials aren’t averse to fighting dirty.”

“Neither am I.” He winked at Einar. “What short memories you both have.”

But Einar did not smile. “Some of us have long memories when it comes to Imperial treachery.” Then he raised his voice. “Don’t humiliate him too badly.”

Aleksi faced Balian, who had drawn his weapon. Naia had expected something gaudy, jewel-encrusted, and useless, but his sword was of fine make, and he wielded it with ease.

Balian struck first, a bold lunge that Aleksi countered easily. He likewise deflected a second swing, but he did not counter.

“Your form is excellent, Sir Balian,” he offered graciously.

Balian did not seem gratified. All of the bold arrogance of earlier had melted into a look of fierce determination. Instead of responding, he lunged again. Aleksi spun out of the way in a graceful move that looked almost like a dance.

Aleksi’s face betrayed no worry, no fear, merely a hint of boredom. But Naia’s heart pounded. She had no idea why, when Balian was so obviously outmatched ... except that something slimy and acrid hung in the air. A film that Naia could taste on the back of her tongue.

She watched because she had to, though she barely registered the feints and evasions, the clanging of blades. She felt nauseated, almost sick with fear.

Aleksi finally struck, though he pulled the blade before it could cut through Balian’s heavy quilted jacket.

“Point,” Gwynira intoned, “to the Lover.”

Aleksi inclined his head and circled the cleared area, sparing a glance and a wink for Naia and Einar. Balian advanced in a flurry of blows, but Aleksi parried each with lazy ease. He was much better than Balian, so much better.

So why was Naia about to hyperventilate?

“Naia?” A hand touched her shoulder, then slid down to support her back. Einar’s voice was a low rumble by her ear. “What is it?”

“Something’s wrong.” She could barely rasp the words past the fear lodged in her throat. “Einar, make them stop—”

He didn’t question her, only stepped forward. “Aleksi.”

Aleksi immediately pulled his blade up in front of his chest, parallel to the floor, signaling a pause in the match. He glanced past Einar, and his brows drew together in a frown. “Naia?”

Balian struck.

No.

His blade flashed, slicing Aleksi’s arm. Hot blood splashed on the polished stone floor, and Naia cried out in wordless protest. Gwynira rose from her throne, and Arktikos advanced on Balian, placing himself between Aleksi and the surprised-looking man.

Gwynira clenched her jaw. “ Sir Balian. ”

The man blanched. “I—I’m sorry, Grand Duchess. I didn’t mean—the heat of the moment, you see—”

Aleksi held up one hand. “An accident,” he declared. “No harm done.”

“He drew blood in my Grand Hall,” Gwynira shot back. “While sparring . That is unacceptable.”

“Grand Duchess, please—”

But Aleksi cut him off. “The fault is mine. Leveling one’s sword is the customary way to pause a match in the Sheltered Lands. Of course Sir Balian would be unfamiliar with the meaning of the gesture.”

Gwynira was still furious, and Naia selfishly wanted her to argue. But she did not, merely nodded to Arktikos. “See him out,” she instructed, “and ensure that he remains in his chambers today.”

“I will also excuse myself.” Aleksi passed his borrowed sword back to Arktikos and bowed once more to Gwynira. “I should get cleaned up.”

Naia followed him to the side exit on shaking legs, her pulse still pounding a hard, harsh beat in her veins.

“Aleksi, wait—”

It was all she managed to say before Aleksi collapsed against the stone wall of the corridor, giving life to her fear.

“ Shit. ” Einar was there in a moment, shoving a shoulder under Aleksi’s arm. “What is this? Void magic?”

“Oh, not at all.” Aleksi had gone pale, and he sagged even with Einar’s support. “A terribly standard poison, I imagine. Average, one could even say.”

“But how?” Naia choked. “How can a simple poison do this to you ?”

“Because, little nymph.” He murmured the appellation in a tone so gentle it hurt to hear. “I’m dying.”

Ice crackled through Naia. She wanted to deny it, even opened her mouth to do so, but the words wouldn’t come. Because he had spoken with that damnable sincerity again.

Every excruciating syllable was true.

“Impossible,” Einar bit out, his voice angry with denial. “You can’t die. Not like this. You’re of the High Court. You’re eternal.”

“Nothing is eternal, Einar. Even love itself can die.” Aleksi’s smile was slow and sad. “But cheer up. The two of you—” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. “You almost made me believe again.”

His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed in Einar’s embrace.

“Aleksi?” Naia shook him. “ Aleksi! ”

Einar swept the Lover up into his arms. “ Gwynira ,” he bellowed, hard enough to shake the frozen windows. “We need a healer!”

This was the feeling that Naia had not been able to shake, the impending doom that had made it seem like the entire world was about to end.

Except that was wrong, wasn’t it? If Aleksi died, the world would not end. The sun and moons would rise and set, and the world would keep spinning somehow.

It would just leave Naia and Einar behind.