Every day since my adoptive father, Duke Franco, rescued me from the burning embers of my house in Voke, I have been up before dawn. Today was no different. I had one more hour to myself before the Francos woke up. 

In the past, I would lie awake in my bed, trying to relive the dwindling memories of my childhood, while desperately avoiding the ones of the war. 

I must have fallen into my own trap, because all I have kept over the years are glimpses of mismatched images that I cannot place in time. It’s like my life truly started seventeen years ago, when Duke Franco pointed to his stronghold and stated, “This is your house now.” 

After a few years, my training as a court interpreter started, and I finally had a reason to be awake in the small hours of the morning: I was useful to Thornland, my adoptive country. 

Franco trained me to have formidable knowledge of the diplomatic matters between Thornland and Voke. When the time came, I was appropriately armed to translate conversations between the two countries. I had never realized that the role would also entail murder. 

As I heard the rest of the castle begin to stir, my head was still spinning with questions: What should I do? Escape? But where? Somehow I had been given a new chance. One whole year to change things, to avoid crashing into my own death again. What was I going to make of it? 

I splashed my face with the tepid water left in the basin by the servants. I knew I didn’t have long before I was expected to report to Franco’s office. He was not a man to tolerate tardiness, a lesson I learned harshly after a birthday party thrown by my sisters had turned dramatic. 

I remembered King Hughes would start maneuvering his armies closer to Voke’s borders soon. Duke Franco will need me to translate diplomatic letters, to lull the demons of Voke into a false sense of safety. I had no idea how I would stomach going through one more day being manipulated by Duke Franco, but I knew one thing for sure: until I had a plan, I would have to force my head down. 

That decision was soon challenged by my step-mother, Mara, barging into my bedroom. 

“Good morning to you too, Mara,” I bid her under my breath, hoping she wouldn’t detect my snarkiness. 

But Mara wasn’t one for subtlety. She was already tearing the drapes from my window. 

“You demons shouldn't be allowed to hide behind curtains,” she spat at me. 

“My apologies, I was under the impression that you wanted me to hide my monstrosity. Do let me know how to achieve both at once,” I replied without thinking. 

Mara glowered at me, before continuing her torrent of threats. She eventually left, and I dressed in my usual chestnut leather boots and a dress embroidered with Franco’s crest: a snake curled up around a golden sword.

But as I was headed to Franco’s office, Marielle, Mara’s favorite maid, pushed my door open.

“You’re wasting your time,” I said. “Mara’s already taken the drapes.” 

Marielle was beautiful if you could look past the venom pooling behind her eyes. She was rarely courageous enough to come into my bedroom, and I was starting to notice how my change in behavior was influencing the past: I didn’t remember her doing this last year. I assumed that Mara’s anger had emboldened her. I sighed, bracing myself. 

“I didn’t come for the drapes, witch,” Marielle snarled. “Her Grace said that since the Demons are pillaging Thornland, the Humans can do the same to them.” 

I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but understood soon enough: Marielle started going through my things, opening drawers and wardrobes.

“Could you hurry up, I have to meet His Grace soon,” I said in my best nonchalant tone, hoping she would give up. The truth was that I only cared about two objects in the entire bedroom, and they were well hidden. 

But I could tell that today, Marielle was eager to inflict some damage. I knew that being confrontational would only yield more trouble, and I couldn’t afford it today. So I held my breath. 

Until I saw her trailing her fingertips over an uneven slat in the floorboards. My heart skipped a beat. I stepped towards her, but it was too late: she had found the hidden cranny under the wooden floor, where long ago I had stowed the tattered yellow tunic I had been wearing when Duke Franco found me, and a medallion, passed down from my mother. 

Marielle, a triumphant grin twisting her face, admired the medallion eagerly: it was as I remembered it. Two rearing horses, their manes interlocked to form a circle around them. She walked over to a mirror and tried on the necklace, smirking at me. Fury must have flashed across my eyes because she lowered the necklace ever so slightly before regaining composure, realizing that she had struck a chord. 

“Let it go,” I said as calmly as I could. “If Duke Franco knows that you stole this from me…”

“Oh but I assume you’ve hidden this away for a reason, didn’t you?”

I took a step towards her, willing it to be friendly rather than menacing. “Marielle. I know you don’t like me, but I am asking you kindly to give it back.”

“Or what?” she retorted as she got up to leave. 

My mind was racing. I slid in between her and the door. “Marielle, I'm not going to ask again,” I warned. 

She attempted to brush past me, and instinctually, before I could command it otherwise, my hand reached towards her neck to the medallion. 

Marielle lurched back, and the necklace snapped as I grabbed it. “Ouch! You monster!” she shrieked.

My victory was short-lived: I looked in horror at the fresh scratches my sharp demon nails had dug into her skin. Marielle stared at me in shock when she felt the shallow cuts on her neck.

“You demons are animals. Mara will hear of this,” she growled, before rushing through the door and down the hallway. 

“Marielle, wait! I didn’t mean to!” But she was already gone. 

After an instant of hesitation, I ran after her, intent on making amends. Not only was I late to meet with Franco, but I had also upset Mara’s favorite maid. My new life wasn’t off to a great start. 

I worried that my chasing her would make things worse, but if only I could catch her before she could reach…but it was too late. I knew very well which door Marielle had just pushed, and there was no turning back now. I would have to explain myself. 

I took a deep breath and smoothed out my dress before stepping into the Sun Room. When I looked up, it was as I feared. Marielle had just interrupted Mara, Georgina, Athenais and Olympia’s breakfast. And it was all my fault.