Jane dropped into a nervous curtsy. Her favorite fantasy novels should have prepared her for this moment. But it was one thing to dream about dashingly handsome princes in books, and a whole new level of awkward to meet one in person.

"Avtorka!" The prince's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Allow me to extend my most heartfelt welcome. I am Prince Kir of House Tsarmita. I hope you will find your stay at Segilach enjoyable!"

His face was disappointingly average, although his features were improved by his hair, which framed his cheeks in sandy locks. He raised Jane's hand to his lips in what Jane's favorite authors would have described as a swoon-worthy gesture. Jane felt more awkward than ever. What were you supposed to do while your hand was being kissed? What were you supposed to say?

She glanced helplessly at Nikolay, who smirked.

No help there.

"Um... thank you, Your Highness. It's... an honor to be here?"

The words felt silly, but the prince did not seem to notice. He beamed at her.

"You have no idea how long I have waited for this day," he said.

"Er, what day is that?"

"Why, the day I would finally get to meet our newest and loveliest Avtorka!"

From any other man, the words would have sounded cheesy or sarcastic, but from Prince Kir, they were enthusiastically sincere. He barreled on. "I'm afraid Father's in a meeting of some importance or he would be here to greet you, but he has bid me to escort you about the palace in the meantime!"

"I'm sure our new Avtorka is tired after her long ride," said Nikolay.

"Of course!" said Prince Kir, the picture of earnest apology. "How very foolish of me! Please take the time to get yourself settled. We shall meet again later!"

He hurried away, and Nikolay led Jane up the steps to the palace entrance. Jane fought not to laugh. Kir reminded her of an over-eager puppy, all wagging tail and huge eyes. She glanced at Nikolay. "Prince Kir - Is he always so -"

"Yes?"

Jane blinked. She was no expert on reading her companion's mercurial changes in temper, but she thought Nikolay seemed on edge.

"So eager," she finished.

His eyes narrowed. "Yes."

"Oh. Okay."

They entered the main hall. "Tread carefully," said Nikolay. A second later, Jane saw why. The hall looked like the aftermath of a serious bombing. The floor was mess of dust, glass shards, and fallen stones the size of wyverns. In the room's center, an enormous chandelier lay on its side, a lifeless shell of its former glory.

"What happened here?"

"We are a country at war."

"And - the enemy - the Kan...Kanachskiy? -" (If she was going to be here awhile, she'd better learn the lingo) "- they made it all the way here?"

"There was a surprise attack a few days ago. A powerful Kanachskiy sorcerer made it past our defenses. I suppose our mages did not have time to clean up the damage yet. They have been stretched thin these days." Nikolay waved a dismissive hand.

That did not sound good. Jane wanted to ask if Somita was winning or losing the war and what would happen if the enemy made it past their defenses again. But she did not dare ask now, not when Nikolay's eyes looked so stormy.

Her new room was lavishly furnished, five-star-hotel worthy, and her first reaction was to be afraid that she might break something. Her concern was not alleviated by the appearance of a servant at the door the moment Nikolay left.

"Avtorka." The girl bowed. "The tsar sent me to help you change into garb more suited for your station."

Jane, who had managed to stain even her most resilient shirts, watched in consternation as the girl produced from her closet an assortment of dresses with long, ballooning sleeves. They were far fancier and bustier than the dress she'd received from the temple women.

"Erm," said Jane, prodding the fabric with caution, "what'll happen if I wreck one of these?"

"The tsar says no price is too high to ensure the Avtorka's happiness."

If possible, her sense of well-being shrank further. The tsar must really want something important to go to all this trouble. Jane let the serving woman help her into a dress, grimacing as she glimpsed her reflection. Clearly, Mir was unused to tiny half-Asian women with A cups. There was too much loose space in the region of her chest, and the amount of fabric at the dress' base made it a serious tripping hazard. She looked like a teen playing dress-up for a Renaissance faire.

Whatever. It would have to do. She remembered the prince had said something about meeting her later. She had nothing better to do, so she set off to find him.

She spent the next fifteen minutes attempting to get her bearings in a building that reminded her of a corn maze. Each corridor she turned down had so many offshoots, she quickly lost count. Just when she was sure she would soon reach the courtyard where she'd first met the prince, she found herself in front of her bedroom again.

How...?

She tried again, a different route this time, and achieved the same result. The third time this happened, Jane grew certain the castle was trying to mess with her head. There was no logical way she could be back at her suite; she had gone down stairs and not come back up any -

"Having trouble?"

She turned. Prince Kir stood behind her. He looked concerned.

"Your castle," said Jane, "has an unfortunate sense of humor."

"Ah yes," he said vaguely. "It likes to play tricks on strangers. I'm glad I found you before you got lost in a secret passage - I mean, there aren't too many of those in this castle - in fact, rumors of their existence has never been confirmed - but they may exist, and if you fell into one, we'd have a hard time getting you out. Probably my brother would have to help me, since he's the only one who could figure out how. May I escort you outside, my lady?"

Jane blinked. "I don't think I followed all of that, but yes," she said. "Your Highness -"

"Please, just Kir!" he cried. "'Your Highness' sounds stuffy, Crown Prince Vetrov is too formal, and Vetrov by itself is too confusing since there are three of us -"

"Kir, then." Good job, Jane. You're on first name terms with a crown prince already - not too shabby. Perhaps he could give her some answers she hadn't gotten from Nikolay. "Can you tell me more about the godstests?" she asked pleasantly.

"You'll have to ask Father. He knows all the details, and he already has lots of ideas for what he would like you to ask the gods after you pass the tests and gain the power to Write in the Book of Truths. I'm... afraid I don't know much about the process."

"I see." Jane fiddled with her sleeves. "Do you know if there've been any previous Avtorkas who succeeded in passing their Godstests?"

"There was a man in the Magicore who succeeded! And my mother, she came from Earth too, but she failed her second Godstest - or maybe it was her third? I wasn't born then. Not that you would be able to meet her - I mean, I'm sure she'd love to meet you if she wasn't dead - it tends to make communication a challenge -"

"Just to be clear," said Jane, who was still having reality struggles, "when people die here, they are really dead? There's no, like, necromancer person who can bring a dead person back, or - I dunno, communicate with the afterlife or something..."

"Is that how it is in your world?" said Kir. "Incredible!" And before Jane could correct him, he barreled on. "Dead people are unequivocally dead here, I mean you have the occasional soul who fakes his death for insurance purposes or as an unfunny sort of practical joke, but for the most part the dead are solidly dead. It's probably good for you to know this, as it will help you make a more informed decision when it comes to saving Father. I say, your hair is really quite a fascinating shade and consistency! Do you do something to make it so straight?"

Talking to Prince Kir was like trying to keep up with a car that was whizzing down a highway and occasionally jettisoning scraps of flotsam. It was a struggle not to get hit in the face by the flotsam, and every time Jane allowed it to distract her, the prince pulled ahead even more. She tried to remember what she had wanted to ask him next. Oh yes. The Kanachskiy and why they were at war.

"Your Highness -" Jane began, but before she could ask about the attack in the forest, the prince leapt forward and beckoned her toward a fountain. "We will sit easier here!" he exclaimed. "Do you know that these fountains are..."

And then he was off again. Jane resigned herself to not getting answers out of Prince Kir anytime soon. She allowed her thoughts to wander.

It was now incredibly obvious why the tsar was so eager to please her. He thought Jane would be granted certain powers after passing her godstests, and he intended to use those powers to his advantage. What sort of things would he ask for?

Jane tamped down another burst of anxiety and tried to distract herself with the view. The fountain behind the prince bothered her. Water appeared out of thin air twelve feet above their heads and fell to the bowl in gravity-defying, swirling patterns that were surely guided by magic.

Pretty, but scientifically quite problematic...

Jane tried to get a better look, but Prince Kir shifted and blocked her view. He leaned closer. At first, she assumed he was trying to be gallant by brushing seed fuzz from her hair. She had only just noticed that his face was fast approaching hers, when he kissed her lips with surprising firmness.