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Nerys shook her head, regaining her bearings.

“Oh. I’m sorry—I didn’t expect…” You seem so alive , she left unsaid.

Now that Nerys knew what she was speaking to, it was easy to see what was off about the woman.

Her skin was too waxy and pale, yet slightly discolored under the eyes, like a bruise.

The eyes themselves were bloodshot and were a color that Nerys had initially written off as dark brown, but was it actually blood red?

151 More than that, the woman’s movements weren’t quite…

there. A little delayed. Stilted. Jesta was likely stretching her fingers because they were stiff—for several reasons.

Jesta’s smile grew bigger and bigger at Nerys’s discomfort. “Don’t worry—truly,” Jesta said. “You aren’t the first one to be surprised. Why, I’ve met people who thought the Pelian Resurrected were skeletons, who roam like fleshless puppets! Can you imagine?” Nerys chuckled out of politeness.

“How long—I mean, will you be with us, I mean—” Nerys cursed under her breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

“Are you asking how long will I be at court? Probably until spring when the ambassador returns to Pelia.” Jesta’s voice lowered to a whisper and she leaned towards Nerys.

So close that Nerys caught a whiff of something that reminded her of meat being left out in the sun too long, mixed with vinegar.

“Now, how long have I been dead? Since midsummer.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Jesta grinned. “My life’s much better now. I can guarantee I wasn’t attending royal parties last year.”

Jesta was so alive. But that was impossible. She wasn’t alive. Was she possessed? Was it just magic? How much did she remember of her life? Could she think? Was she anything like she was before?

“Does it…hurt? To come back. Oh, I’m sorry—that’s rude of me.”

Jesta flicked her wrist. “Oh, no. Not at all. I’m happy to talk. It so happens I was raised so soon after my death that I’m still the same person—I’m just not in pain anymore.”

“I’m glad I met you, Jesta,” Nerys said sincerely, leaving out that she never regretted entertainment—and this was, in a way, entertainment. “I never knew that the Resurrected were so impressive.”

“I’ll take your compliment. Just wait for…” Jesta drifted off as a manservant walked up to them, wearing the Kor’yitz’s red and white livery.

“Sword Man Callidora,” the servant said, “the Kor’yitz has asked that you attend her.”

What? Why? Now ?

Oh, this was going to get very interesting.

Nerys nodded, swallowed, and followed the servant after saying a quick farewell to Jesta. One did not ignore a direct summons from the Kor’yitz. Though, she was probably safer talking to the dead woman.

Whatever Nerys expected from the Kor’yitz, it was not giggling.

When Nerys approached, Kor’yitz Adelyna was relaxing on a divan, surrounded by a group of simultaneously overdressed and underdressed courtiers and High Maids, the latter marked by their wearing of pearls.

For her part, the Kor’yitz acknowledged Nerys’s approach with a simple nod, not bothering to get up or set down her goblet.

Though, why would the Kor’yitz move to greet anyone?

Unlike when they had met in the corridor, the Kor’yitz now wore a dress like the other court women, a mess of dark blue silk and gems that flickered in the torchlight like stars.

Nerys curtsied. She wasn’t going to let the murmuring courtiers distract her.

Not now. There was too much at stake. While Nerys couldn’t pick out what they were saying, she heard the words “Sword Man,” “ward,” “simple,” and “rustic” tossed about.

She wasn’t the only one confused as to why the Kor’yitz wanted to speak with her.

Nerys spared a quick glance behind her—Qiana was still with the other courtiers—a few with noticeably bare breasts.

Why wasn’t Qiana with her ? This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Your Ascendance,” Nerys said in greeting.

“None of that. Please, join me.” The Kor’yitz turned to the nobleman sitting on a stool next to her and said, “Yes, you need to move. Shoo.” The Kor’yitz snapped her fingers like commanding a dog.

“You wound me, Lady,” the man said as he stood, biting back a smile. He moved out of the way, but not before giving Nerys a resentful glance. One the Kor’yitz couldn’t see.

“Oh stop,” the Kor’yitz said to the courtier, “I’m sure you’ll punish me at the gaming table.” She then tapped the empty seat and said to Nerys, “Please—sit.”

Etiquette lessons made Nerys pause—even with the Kor’yitz’s direct invitation, sitting amongst all these high-ranking people was…

wrong. Like turning the famously marbled Haetyn beef into jerky wrong.

In fact, she had come to this event expecting a long night of standing, since everyone would outrank her.

Yet—Nerys glanced at a bare-footed couple on the ground, where the woman had her hand blatantly down the front of the man’s breeches—maybe resting her ass on a cushion wouldn’t be the most outrageous thing here.

“I think she’s afraid of you,” one of the women said.

“How quaint. Don’t be—the Lady doesn’t bite too hard.

” The woman’s flaming red hair glistened, even in the dim light.

Nerys’s breath caught, even as her embarrassment threatened to show.

How was she supposed to stand out for anyone’s attention with women like this at court?

The Kor’yitz’s eyes narrowed at the speaker. “You too. Leave,” she said, waiving the woman away like a fly.

The woman’s eyes widened. “Lady—”

“I’m not in the mood for someone to insult my guest.”

“But—”

“I mean it, Nerine.” The Kor’yitz glared at the woman.

Any satisfaction Nerys felt evaporated at the fury in Nerine’s expression, which she saved for Nerys alone.

Whatever else happened tonight, Nerys had made an enemy—all by pausing before taking a seat.

Nerine left with a flourish of skirts, taking the scene’s tension with her.

“Please don’t disperse your companions on my account, Lady,” Nerys said once Nerine was out of earshot, not wanting to anger any more nobles. One was enough. “I assure you, I’m not worth the disruption.”

That got a series of appreciative chuckles, including from the Kor’yitz.

“Let me make that determination.” The Kor’yitz motioned her to the seat once more, and Nerys obliged, waiting for Fina’s specter to swoop in on a glowing horse for this breach of etiquette.

“ You’re a better person than I for caring—and don’t worry.

That one had it coming to her.” “That One,” who was named Nerine, apparently, was now standing at the other side of the party, determinedly making her way to Qiana.

Oh, this kept getting better—what was Nerine going to say to Qiana? Nothing good. It was probably too much to hope she wanted to discuss the musical performance.

Nerys glanced over and was surprised to find the Kor’yitz staring at her intently. “Your first day at court—how was it?”

“Smelly,” Nerys replied before she could think. Shit. Her face was now warm enough to fry bacon.

Everyone paused. And then delicate laughter rang out.

The Kor’yitz in particular laughed like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard, which meant all the other courtiers joined her.

Nerys let out the breath she knew she was holding.

“No” ?the Kor’yitz gasped? “you’re not going to say ‘I’m so honored to be in your presence?

’ No, ‘it’s everything I dreamed of?’ ‘My life’s goal has been fulfilled? ’ No, the court is smelly ?”

Too late to stop now. Nerys shrugged. “Well, the promenades and colognes are strong…”

“See, Aherin? You don’t need to use quite so much.

” Nerys followed the Kor’yitz’s attention to a young man, who was maybe a little older than Nerys, who shared the Kor’yitz’s coloring and nose.

Fina’s lesson swam in her mind. Aherin. Son of the R?ll, heir after Adelyna.

Currently engaged to a Pelian princess. Favors caramel, hunting for fowl, and locks.

Dislikes formal balls, red-headed women, and cinnamon.

Though, Fina’s description left out that Aherin was quite handsome, for a royal.

Compared to Idris though…no one at this court was like him.

“If Sword Man Callidora insists,” Aherin said with a grin, “I will forsake all cologne forever—then you’ll be sorry.” How did the Yitz’mal know who she was? Then again, arrows took longer to leave bows than word to spread around court.

The group teased Aherin more after that—apparently his scent had been a longstanding joke—and Nerys began to relax in the midst of their easy manner.

Or more like she would have, if not for Nerine, who had reached Qiana, her arms flailing like windmill blades.

Qiana turned at something Nerine said, and observed Nerys sitting at the Kor’yitz’s side, though Nerys was unable to read Qiana’s expression from this distance .

“Tell me,” the Kor’yitz said once they were done mocking her brother.

“What do they do in Cow’s Fancy for entertainment?

152 Tip cows? Fling mudpies?” Kor’yitz said all this with a friendly tone and smile.

Maybe the Kor’yitz wasn’t trying to give her a subtle insult, and the Kor’yitz was known for sarcastic humor, according to Fina’s dossier.

Though, Nerys was a bit insulted on Callidora’s behalf.

Nerys had grown up tossing mudpies. Callidora… not so much.

Now, how to answer the question? Nerys needed to stay close to the Kor’yitz if she could—the R?ll was more likely to notice her that way—so she decided to tell a truth. And a tiny lie.

“Actually, Lady, we hunted.” That was the truth.

“Hunting stag is one of my favorite pastimes.” And the lie.

Nerys did know how to hunt, but calling it a “favorite pastime” gave the pursuit of venison far too much credit.

The miserable weather, the brambles, urinating in bushes, and all to be “rewarded” by being covered in deer blood and viscera.

Though Nerys knew from the lodge that hunting was one of Adelyna’s favorite things to do. As was gambling, reading, and working her way through the court’s beautiful women 153 at a speed that rivaled the R?ll’s son.

“Hunting. Truly?” Adelyna’s eyes lit up and she propped herself up to get a closer look at Nerys. “You don’t seem like a huntress.” What did she expect? That huntresses from the countryside pranced around in deer skins and washed their hair with rabbit piss?

“Since when do a Sword Man’s daughters go hunting?” Aherin asked, reclining and crossing his legs. He leisurely reached forward and plucked a chocolate truffle off a silver tray and popped it into his mouth.

“As you deduced, there isn’t much else to do in Cow’s Fancy,” Nerys said as she forced herself to sit taller. “I had to find my own entertainment.”

“Most young women drink,” one of the noblewomen said. The others chuckled in agreement.

“Or find lovers,” said another.

The Kor’yitz, however, did not join them.

“How would you like to join me in a hunt tomorrow?” The courtiers fell silent and watched the exchange.

The Kor’ yitz was notoriously picky about who she took on her hunts—she had no patience for foppish courtiers turning the outing into a drinking fest. Which meant if Nerys was going to join her, she had to prepare for a long, miserable day in the woods—and pretend to like it.

Nerys’s travails knew no end.

“I’d be honored,” Nerys said, bobbing her head.

“Excellent,” the Kor’yitz said. “Do you have hunting attire?”

“I’m afraid not—the Sun Holder said I wouldn’t need such things here.” That was merely a convenient way for Nerys to dance around the fact she never had “hunting attire” in the first place.

“I hunt with a bow, not traps. Is that an issue?”

“No—I prefer the bow. I can use both crossbow and long.”

“Alright—I’ll send both clothes and a bow to you tonight. And my man will tell yours when and where to meet me.” The Kor’yitz reclined against the divan, a grin plastered on her face. “You should retire soon—we leave before dawn.”

Before dawn. In the middle of winter.

Great. Just…great. Why couldn’t the Kor’yitz be obsessed with naps and cheese tasting? But there were more important things to focus on, like how being near the Kor’yitz was one step closer to the R?ll—and his death.