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T hree weeks after Taiyo had signed off on Hellebore’s letter, not even a hint of suspicion there might be more to it than met the eye, she received a response.

Although, said response so far appeared to simply be the fulfillment of the surface level request Hellebore had made for a few pieces of equipment and her research at the academy. If Taiyo hadn’t thrown her over his shoulder and run off with her, she could have had this material months ago to work with.

Hellebore reached her room, Elaine on her heels, to see the door open and Phoebe directing the male servants where to place the crates. Hellebore quickly took over, practically chasing the elves out of the room as soon as all the crates were delivered. All but the one who appeared in the doorframe as Phoebe and Elaine were shooed out.

“I didn’t realize you’d collected this much research in your time at the academy,” Taiyo said, leaning against the frame and eyeing the crates that were all packed full of her notebooks and textbooks.

Hellebore knelt beside the first crate and started pulling out the textbooks in it. She looked over her shoulder at him. “I stayed busy. Only some of this is my research into types of plant rot. I spent a few years focusing on creating a new formula to change the makeup of steel into something more malleable. I only succeeded in shortening the formula by a few letters, so better but not the true efficiency I wanted in order to make it easier to manipulate an opponent’s weapon in combat.”

What a waste of two years that project had been.

But Taiyo was staring at her with that strange look again, like she was a foreign beast he’d never seen before.

It sent a rush up her spine and a flare of heat to her cheeks, and she didn’t like that. She turned back to the crates, but she saw no letter tucked amongst them. Had her aunt not realized Hellebore had also written in code?

She must have taken the letter at face value. Or Hellebore’s father had forbidden Aunt Palladia from including any kind of response. Aunt Palladia usually didn’t let her brother have much say over her actions, but this was uncharted territory for all of them. She might have withheld a response in order to protect Hellebore from incurring Taiyo’s ire in case he was reading her mail before giving it to her.

“I… I need to get back to work. The Moon Elves have been spotted at our borders again, and while it’s not new, it’s still a massive headache to deal with them and their king. I’ll see you tonight for dinner,” Taiyo said, moving to shut the door. “Let me know if you come across anything significant.”

She waved him off, already trying to sort through the mess whoever had packed the crates had made of her organizational system. Eventually, she finally found her most recent notebook containing a substantial amount of her work in rot.

Hellebore was still on the ground, leaning against the crates as she flipped through her drawings of her dying plants back at the academy. She was halfway through it when an envelope fell out of the pages.

She should have known better than to doubt her aunt.

Hellebore glanced around, but Taiyo was long gone.

Really, Hellebore hadn’t asked for much. Hellebore wanted her aunt’s version of the story of what had happened between them since Taiyo was in no hurry to tell her. Or Haruko was still convincing him not to tell her, if she was correct in assuming the conversation she’d overheard had to do with whatever had happened between him and her aunt.

Hellebore eagerly opened it up, but the handwriting wasn’t her aunt’s. It was more masculine, and Hellebore couldn’t place it.

All it said was:

Hellebore,

Come to the northwest corridor four hours after sunset on the first of the month. You’ll get your answers then.

Well, that was sufficiently ominous.

The first of the month was two days away. Which meant she had two days to decide what to do about the note.

One, show it to Taiyo and get his opinion. The problem with that one was she'd also have to decide if she would tell him the truth that she'd gone behind his back and included a secret message to her aunt prying into the past, or lie to him and act like there was no reason for her to expect such a note.

Two, keep it to herself and show up prepared for either her aunt—who had chosen to disguise her handwriting and not sign the note—or to meet whoever it was that thought he could give her answers and had gotten access to her things either in transit or in the castle.

Three, don't tell Taiyo about the note and don't show up to what could be a trap.

That night at dinner, she kept her mouth shut, only telling Taiyo it would take her time to go through her research and see if there were connections. When he asked if Palladia had written back, she’d simply said no.

The first of the month arrived, and as her maids fluttered around her in the morning, she stared at her belt, trying to decide what to equip herself with in the event she did decide to risk it and walk into a trap on the chance it was actually from her aunt.

The dusty, barely functioning organ in her chest constricted, and Hellebore nearly gasped. She instead took a deep breath and ignored it.

But as she worked in her lab that morning, it still didn't go away.

There was something deep, something aching in what was supposed to be a purely functional space.

And all of this pain just at the thought that by not going she was missing a chance to see or at least hear from Aunt Palladia.

Hellebore hadn't let herself feel anything since her wedding. She hadn't cried since then either, and she wasn't going to start now.

“What's wrong?”

Hellebore looked up at Taiyo as he sat beside her during dinner. He’d been inviting her to eat every other day since she’d sent a message to Palladia.

Admit to the elf she was married to—who she’d been working hard to convince she was an emotionless, impenetrable fortress—that she was homesick and missed her aunt like someone had actually carved her heart out of her chest?

She'd sooner swallow her tongue and never speak again.

“Just thinking about the samples I'll be examining tomorrow. I'll be testing a tincture that I don't believe will cure anything, but my hope is that it will slow the decay in the garden. If it does, then I can move forward with developing something that will reverse the rot.”

It wasn't a complete lie. That was true, just not what she was thinking about.

Taiyo clearly didn't believe her. “That sounds like good news, but you look like a rain cloud.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn't a compliment.”

“Well, we can't all be rays of sunshine—and I’m not; so don’t even think about calling me that. The rain comes eventually. Night always falls.” Hellebore picked at the fruit on her plate before giving him a stern look. “Maybe I look so grave because I don't want you to get your hopes up. My tincture could fail, and then I've made no tangible progress. Maybe I'm just trying to protect you. People always let you down eventually.”

“And because of that it's better not to have any hope at all? Not to try?” There was something in his voice she didn't like. It was far too personal for their strictly professional relationship.

“Obviously I believe in trying, otherwise I wouldn't be spending all my hours in this lab trying to help your people. But I'm going to be practical about it. Until the solution is tangible, I won’t hope that I have the solution. That's all.”

Taiyo shook his head. “I never knew a stone wall could take on the guise of a woman for so long and never crack.”

“Thank you.”

Taiyo looked ready to climb over the table and strangle her. She grinned.

Then he laughed.

And she never knew what to do when he laughed. She never understood why.

As desperate as she was to never let him find out, he was right. She was starting to crack.

She wanted answers. She wanted her aunt. Only one person in her family thought she was worth anything, and Hellebore hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye.

So if it was a trap, she'd be prepared, but if it was her aunt...

She was a hypocrite. She hoped it was her aunt.

So instead of going back to her room after dinner like she usually did, she made an excuse to Taiyo that she had some more work to wrap up before going to bed. She went back to her lab to wait. Her belt was stocked full of anything she might need to ward off an attack. She twirled a thin knife in her fingers, typically used for dissection, but it had its purposes elsewhere. Alchemists didn’t fight with typical daggers or swords anyway.

It was nearly pitch black when she left her lab and stepped out into the hallway. Moonlight came in through the windows on the other side of the hallway, giving her just enough to see by as she crept through the hallways and to the corridor. She was going half an hour early. If it was a trap, she’d be waiting with her own.

She reached the corridor, pulling out her chalk as she turned down the hallway, goggles resting on her crown and mask around her neck. She looked around and saw no one, so she moved to write her first formula. She was halfway through it when all the moonlight vanished, and all that was left was darkness.

So it was a trap. And they were already there, waiting for her.

She reached into her pouch and grabbed a smoke bomb, activating the prewritten formula and throwing it before pulling her mask up and stumbling to her feet.

She heard no coughing.

Who was it? Where were they?

She stumbled back, but the darkness was absolute. Their control of the moonlight and the time of night gave one distinct, likely possibility. Moon Elves.

But she heard no breathing, no footsteps, nothing.

If she ran, would she just run right into them?

Then the sound of glass breaking ripped through the air. Her smoke started to dissipate, and a sliver of moonlight came through, highlighting the gray smoke.

Two figures came through, and before they could attack her, she attacked first. She lunged forward, driving her knife toward where she estimated a Moon Elf's chest would be. She missed the elf, twisting, but she still threw her weight forward. It worked. He stumbled back with a gasping grunt and went right back out the window with a yell.

Then arms quickly went under and around her, preventing her from moving her arms. She jerked and coughed as smoke filtered through her mask before it was ripped off her face completely. Out of the corner of her eye and in the moonlight, she could see now she'd been correct. Their silver hair and markings gave them away, as did their clothes. Moon Elves. With masks on?

They were well prepared against an alchemist then.

The elf said something, but she couldn't make it out beneath his mask and her harsh coughing. Plus, she didn't know their dialect of Elvish anyway, so it wouldn't have mattered.

She wasn't getting kidnapped by elves a second time. Her pride couldn't stand it. So she went completely limp, holding her breath so she didn't give herself away.

As soon as she did, the elf dropped her and rushed to the broken window where she'd pushed his compatriot out of. This was her chance.

Except when she tried to get up, her arms weren't moving as fast as she was willing them to. Her feet weren't moving at all. She gasped and choked. A paralytic.

Had he injected it when he'd had her restrained?

Her smoke bomb hadn't had one. Although it would have been smart but useless since they had masks anyway.

But now she couldn't even move to escape. She couldn't even twitch her fingers, having only crawled a few feet down the hall by the time the second elf had helped the first back in through the window. They looked at her, but she couldn't make out anything beneath their goggles and masks. They exchanged a few more words, some sort of argument, but it was muffled. There was something about their voices or their words that was familiar, but she supposed their dialect was similar to Iubian Elvish. If she tried, she might be able to translate a few words.

Not that it helped her get out of this. She couldn't move her fingers. She couldn't transmute. She was utterly helpless and maybe if she was lucky, they would put her out of her misery and kill her now so she wouldn't have to live with the humiliation of being kidnapped twice by elves.

No wonder her father and brother had so quickly agreed to marry her off. She was worthless as an alchemist.

The two elves hurried toward her and one of them quickly slung her over his shoulder. The second moved to secure their escape, starting to climb out of the window first, a rope tied to a stone carving protruding from the castle wall.

What a disgrace she was. Unable to best even just two Moon Elves.

The one carrying her was about to climb out the window when blinding bright light ripped through the air. The elf reached for his eyes, crying out, and Hellebore could see nothing. She just squeezed her eyes shut, trying to protect herself from the agony.

“Get your filthy hands off my wife.”