Though it had never bothered her in the past, Cognac found she didn’t want to be talked about in such a way. Trying to move away from the subject, she asked, “Guard-brother, what do you mean that you’ve taken an unconventional approach?” It was as if the words were ground out of her throat, quiet and squeaking.

For the first time, Sedan seemed to become mildly uncomfortable. He frowned, saying, “Ah, to be frank, we’ve done something that would be quite rude, under other circumstances. Normally, this kind of mess would be handled personally by the Queen and her sect of the royal guard, which is why we would have to travel to speak with her. However…we essentially have told her not to bother, and that the estate militia will take care of it.

Her eyebrows furrowing, Odessa asked, “Is that wise?”

She didn’t mean to doubt Sedan, as he must have earned his title as captain and certainly looked the part of a hardened soldier, but it was difficult not to think the royal guard was the right choice. And beyond that, Sedan and Prince Lark looked freshly thirty years old, or thereabouts. They could hardly be as experienced as the guards and officials at Palace Heights must be.

Sedan made a noise in his throat. “Of course, it is my preference to defer to my senior officers and to have the guidance of my queen. But Palace Heights is more than a week away from this place, and I grow anxious waiting to act. In cases like this, it’s hard to say which decision is right. I think what’s most important is that we begin searching before your classmates can be spirited any further away, and by telling our queen that the militia will head this case, we are able to act immediately.”

Weakly, Cognac asked, “Do you really think you’ll find them?”

Sedan sobered, his uncomfortable frown settling into a much harder line. “I only hope that I do,” he said. There was a bit of sadness there, in his voice. He leaned to roll and collect the portraits from the table, abruptly saying, “Your prince will be missing me by now, if you’ll permit me to leave ahead of you.”

They let him leave. In the doorway, he thanked Odessa for the tea.

That night, Cognac was allowed to take the bandages off from the bottoms of her feet. The both of them would be able to unwrap their ankles in the morning. She sat cross legged on the bed, twisting to examine the yellowed skin and wounds. It was as if craters had been carved into her heels. New skin was growing over, but it was still weak and pink.

She prodded at the ridges in her feet. While she looked at just how deep the damage seemed to be, she asked, “Why didn’t your feet-soles suffer as mine did?”

Lazy in her own bed, Odessa picked at her fingernails, saying, “I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve come to the prince’s estate this way. The skin of my feet has grown like hard earth because of how often I run and stamp down on it.”

Cognac considered that. “Then my feet are like soft clouds, since I so rarely run.”

Odessa snorted at that idea, but didn’t say anything.

Following that, they passed a number of quiet days where nothing at all happened and no one particularly memorable visited them.