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She huffed at my mocking tone, but I ignored her, grabbing a blanket on my way to my study.

“A letter arrived for you,” she called behind me. “It’s waiting on your desk.”

My heart skipped in my chest. The only person who would write to me was Wynnie. I practically sprinted the few feet to the study, pulling up short when I opened the door.

As it turned out, the blanket was wholly unnecessary. The room was warm, a fire blazing in the hearth. I almost smiled before I caught sight of my sister’s familiar handwriting.

It hit me like an avalanche, the physical longing I had to talk to her. Or shards, even just to write freely. There were so many things I wanted to tell her, things I couldn’t possibly entrust to a letter.

I ripped open the envelope, not taking the time to pry off the seal. Then I drank in her words, tracing the slopes and whorls of each letter as I read what she had written.

Batty climbed up onto my shoulder like she was going to read along with me, nestling herself into the fur of my gown.

Dear Evy,

I’ve never been careless, so I can’t help but think you have another reason for warning me. Don’t make me march back to the castle to find out what it is.

Things are going well here, or as well as can be expected with the old goat bleating about something or other every five minutes. I would have written sooner, but he decided to stop at every inn on our journey home to sample their house-made mead.

Running the estate keeps me busy, at least, along with trying to stay updated on the whereabouts of our father and sending enough contraception tonic to make sure he doesn’t give us any more siblings.

You’re the only sister I need, and you know how I feel about children.

I laughed. I did indeed. Wynnie had no love of anyone or anything she couldn’t keep in line with a well placed glare.

I’m glad you’re safe, and I expect you to stay that way. Write soon, or I shall be forced to start packing, and you know how certain elderly partners in my marriage feel about my prolonged absence. Don’t subject me to that level of complaining.

All my love,

Wynnie

I shook my head, pulling out a parchment and quill. I had known she would read too much into my last letter, and even more so into this one. It was so, so tempting to tell her to start packing.

In my mind, I drafted the letter I wanted to send.

Dear Wynnie,

Please do come visit. I am personally willing to make the sacrifice of your husband annoying you for the sake of spending time with my sister.

Then perhaps you could tell me what the hells is wrong with me and why I’m vaguely aroused by my husband murdering people for me even if I suspect he was also exorcising his own demons.

Yes, I do remember that he killed people I loved, and frankly, that he would do it again if he was so motivated. Beyond that, he is more complicated than I was expecting, and less hideous than I would prefer.

More importantly, I apparently have mana, not that it matters when my probably-dead mother likely bound it, and even the Archmage doesn’t know how to set it free. No worries, though. It’s only the entire kingdom at stake if I don’t find a way to access it.

So what are you thinking? Two days? Three? See you soon because shards knows I am in need of one of the lectures you usually saved for the gardener’s son.

Your desperate sister,

Evy

So, so tempting.

She was the Lady of a rather extensive estate. Not only was she welcomed at court, she was envied here. Now that I was relatively safe from Draven, there was no reason she couldn’t visit.

Except for, of course, the monster attacks on the palace and the strange Unseelie sightings that were still fortunately far from my sister’s village. Not to mention the risk of her traveling. She was safe where she was. I wouldn’t let her give that up just because I selfishly wanted to see her.

With a sigh, I penned a letter designed to keep her home.

Dear Wynnie.

Do not start packing.

As I’m sure you’ve heard by now with your talent for gathering gossip, there’s been an increase in monster attacks, and even a few in the daytime. So for the love of the Shard Mother, stay your stubborn ass home.

I’m safe here, surrounded by palace walls and guards. The king has even given me one of his wolves to keep me from harm.

That should be enough to convey what I needed it to. He’s keeping me safe, not trying to kill me. My sister might be dizzy with questions, but at least she would be reasonably reassured.

If you insist on visiting in spite of my warnings, I’ll be forced to invite every spoiled child of every noble in the kingdom to stay in your rooms. I’m Queen now. That’s well within my power.

I had no idea if I had any power at all, actually, but that was a question for another time.

Stay careful, and stay safe, or I’ll be forced to come up with more creative threats from my lofty position over here.

All my love and more,

Evy

After posting the letter and watching the frost phoenix blink in and out of existence, much like Draven seemed to do, I changed out of my travel clothes and took advantage of the bath.

Mirelda brought some tea, after a thorough lecture about not eating, then lingered near the door longer than necessary, as if waiting for me to ask for something—anything—that might keep her there.

But the things I wanted, I couldn’t ask her for. The things I wanted, I wasn’t sure anyone could give me.