A few short hours after the maid knocked on her door, Tamsin was standing over her brother's casket.

Gwedric was a nation that prioritized living in balance with nature. Not because they were uncivilized or underdeveloped, like the citizens of larger cities sometimes said of the back-country folk. They didn't have much, so they placed a lot of value on what they did have. And what they had was mostly forests. In many ways the health of the nation was dependent on the health of its forests.

It was only natural then that the people of Gwedric didn't embalm their dead like some of the richer nations did. Rather than attempting to preserve the bodies of their loved ones for as long as possible, the people of Gwedric thought it was better for their dead to truly return to the earth, feeding the trees they all depended on, granting life in death.

Of course, because they didn't embalm their dead it meant they had to bury them as soon as possible after death. After all, rot set in quickly, and it wasn't pretty.

Not that Roger's body was pretty as is.

Tamsin still half-felt like this was all a dream. But there was Roger, dead in front of her, reminding her of the cold reality of it all.

I suppose it would have been too easy if the Goddesses had returned me to before he died, thought Tamsin, bitterly.

"I'm sorry, Roger," she whispered. "I couldn't save you."

Roger, laying silent in his casket, obviously couldn't respond. The part of his skull that had been caved in by the rock had been covered up with a bouquet of white flowers, but that didn't do much to hide the evidence of violence. Tamsin had seen this once before, but it wasn't any less shocking the second time around.

I wonder what my body looked like after the sword was taken out of me? Tamsin thought. Did my guts spill out on the floor of the audience chamber? Would they have covered my belly in flowers when they buried me?

The half of Roger's face that wasn't covered in flowers looked pale and sunken, but still... too alive, somehow. When Tamsin had seen his body the first time around she'd half expected him to open his eyes and smile widely and laugh his big laugh and say it had all been a joke.

"Come away," hissed Tamsin's mother pulling at her sleeve. "The service is about to start. Standing there staring like that, it's unseemly."

Tamsin allowed herself to be led to her seat in the front row of the cathedral.

The cathedral was full to bursting with mourners, and not just because the death of the heir was a major event for the nation. Roger had been bright, personable, and beloved by many. Very much the opposite of Tamsin, who'd always been a bit gloomy, awkward, and... well... ignored.

When Tamsin and her parents had taken their seats, the service began, with the priest saying all the usual prayers to all the usual gods.

The household staff all had seats in the first few rows, immediately behind the Gwedric family. A couple of maids, Tamsin recognized them as Primrose and Zelene, were whispering to each other.

"The poor young master," whispered Primrose. Tamsin could hear the tears in her voice. "He was always kind to me, you know. He gave me a flower once. A primrose. He said it made him think of me."

"Yeah, because it's your name," said Zelene.

"Well, yes, but still, he didn't have to do that," said Primrose. "It was kind of him. Why did the gods have to be so cruel as to take him so young?"

"Perhaps the gods were showing him mercy," said Zelene. "Perhaps this is a better fate after all than being married to that wicked tyrant of a Duchess."

"Shhhh!" This was the housekeeper, Mrs. Ashworthe. The girls' conversation died down after that.

Tamsin wished they would have kept talking. Truthfully, Tamsin didn't know all that much about the Duchess of Jordaine, except that everyone said she was a wicked tyrant, somehow both cowardly and violent, although Tamsin was now realizing that there was some contradiction there

When the service was over most of the mourners began to file out of the temple. The final stage of a traditional Gwedric funeral was reserved for only the priest, the family, and a few pallbearers. In this case, the pallbearers were four of the Gwedric family guards.

Tamsin, her parents, the priest, and the guards carrying her brother's casket, began to make their way through the back door of the cathedral. There was fenced-in private grove back there, where all of the important people of the nation had been buried since the cathedral was first built.

The trees of the grove were older than the fence, older than the cathedral itself, perhaps even older than the whole nation of Gwedric. The cathedral was actually built where it was because of the trees. They somehow carried a holiness all on their own. They lent gravitas to the cathedral.

Tamsin had occasionally wondered if there had been old gods here, once. Small gods, worshiped only by rabbits and deer and insects. Tamsin wondered how they had felt when their grove was claimed by the gods of the Empire.

There were no headstones. Bodies were not marked, in Gwedric. It was tradition for the mother (or closest relative of the deceased) to select an exact spot for burial. Then, when the body had been buried, it would be left alone, to be forgotten. To become part of the next cycle of life.

"Here is fine," said Countess Oletha, Tamsin's mother, pointing at essentially a random tree. Tamsin was fairly certain that she just didn't want to walk any further.

The pallbearers set the casket down and set about digging the grave.

The family of the deceased was supposed to be present for the whole burial process. It was supposed to be a time for reflection, to remember the life of the deceased and plan for a future without them.

One of the guards put out a picnic blanket for her parents to sit on. They'd brought light refreshments as well. The thought of eating anything turned Tamsin's stomach, so instead of sitting with her parents she took a few steps away where she could look further into the dark grove.

"I can't believe something like this would happen to us," hissed Oletha. She was trying to keep her voice down, sort of, but that was not something Tamsin's mother was terribly good at.

"Perhaps my father was right after all when he said the Gwedric family was cursed," replied Tamsin's father, Earl Eduart. "I suppose we should count ourselves lucky that we still have one child left."

Oletha clicked her tongue dismissively. "And what good does a daughter do us when the Duchess of Jordaine is a woman?"

"Tamsin may still be our saving grace after all," said Eduart. "You see..."

Eduart began to actually whisper into his wife's ear at that point and Tamsin couldn't hear them anymore, although at this point she could guess what he was saying. They were already planning to abandon her to die in their place.

Tamsin took a few steps further into the old grove. It wasn't proper for her to be out of sight of the grave site during the burial process, but Tamsin had decided to care less about what was proper, since being proper hadn't saved her life the first time around anyway.

When Tamsin felt she had gone far enough she paused and sat down and leaned back against the trunk of a moss-covered tree. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"If there are any old gods here," Tamsin whispered to herself. "Know that I've thought of you and loved you. I hope you'll look after my brother kindly."

When Tamsin finally went back, Roger was already being lowered into the ground.

"Where have you been, girl?" her mother demanded. "Wandering off on your own like that, are you looking to die, too? Are you that eager to join your brother?"

"No, mother," said Tamsin. Although it turns out you're pretty eager for me to join him. "I simply needed to clear my head."

"Well get over here now and do your part in the ritual," demanded Oletha.

Tamsin did as she was told, dumping one shovel full of dirt over Roger's casket while the priest continued to say his prayers to various gods.

"Goodbye brother," she whispered. "I'm sorry now that we weren't closer. I'll try not to waste my second chance."

Perhaps that wasn't a wise thing to have said out loud. But no one ever paid attention to what Tamsin did or said, so it wasn't that much of a risk.

Finally the whole funeral process was over and they could all go home. As they entered through the back door of the cathedral they found Captain Frieg there waiting at the door.

"Frieg, what are you doing here?" asked Earl Eduart.

Captain Frieg saluted when he saw the Earl. "Apologies for not informing you of my presence earlier, sir. I thought it would be wise for someone to stand guard here to make sure you weren't disturbed at your mourning, but I didn't want to take any more of my men away from their posts so I thought I better do it myself."

Eduart grunted in acknowledgment and the whole group continued on their way.

Tamsin had never really spoken to Captain Frieg much before, but she still remembered how he was the only one who had remained by her side when the Duchess had come for her.

So Tamsin hung back while the others kept walking. "Thank you, Captain," she said. "This was very kind of you."

Captain Frieg bowed. "Happy to help, my lady. I'm so very sorry for your loss. The young master was such a promising young man. And so close before his wedding, too. Such a shame. I thought he and Duchess Jordaine would have made such a delightful couple."

Tamsin was taken aback. "You know, Captain, I think you're the first person I've heard who's had anything nice to say about Duchess Jordaine."

"Ah, well, you remember I was a member of the imperial army in my younger days," said Frieg. "Of course, the Duchess joined long after my time, but I actually saw them once, her and the Emperor. Although at the time they were just Lady Alesia and Prince Heinrich. They were in basic training together, you see. They were already known as the twin lions of the Empire by that time. This was before the Battle of Briar Glen, of course. Although I have my doubts about the way people talk about that battle. But, you see, I was visiting some old army friends in the imperial city and they thought it would be fun to bring me to observe the recruits about their training, so I—"

"Tamsin!" Countess Oletha called from near the front door of the cathedral. "Would you hurry up? We've wasted enough of our time in this place already!"

"I'm terribly sorry," said Tamsin. "I have to go. But please, tell me this story another time."

"Of course, my lady," said Frieg with another bow. "I'm sorry for taking up your time. And I'm sorry again for your loss."

Tamsin wasn't sure how to respond, so she just smiled sheepishly.

When they arrived back at the manor house Tamsin went immediately to her room.

She didn't have much time. There were only a few short weeks between her brother's death and the Duchess's attack. She had to begin making plans as soon as possible.

When Primrose knocked on her door to call her down to dinner, Tamsin had insisted on taking her dinner in her room instead. Her parents would be mad about it, but she didn't care about that anymore.

Besides, the post-funeral dinner had been... awkward, the last time around. Roger was really the only one in their family who liked to talk. And without him there to fill the silence with his stories there had been an unbearable emptiness to the whole meal. Tamsin didn't want to go through that again. And after that first time they'd begun taking their meals separately anyway.

Alone in her room, Tamsin began making lists of things she knew and things she didn't know but needed to know. The second list was far longer than the first. It was impossible to know what to do without knowing all the vital information. So her first step was obvious.

After a few hours of this, some time after sunset, Tamsin made her way to her father's study where she pounded loudly on the door.

When Wystan, her father's valet, finally answered the door, Tamsin pushed right past him.

Earl Eduart was bent over his desk, scribbling away at something. Probably writing letters to his friends trying to find someone willing to take him in after abandoning his only daughter to the wrath of the Duchess.

He looked surprised to see Tamsin. "What in the name of all the gods are you doing here?" he asked. "After so rudely refusing to come to dinner, too, you think you can just march in here and—"

"Show me the contract," said Tamsin.

"Huh? What?"

"The contract," said Tamsin. "The engagement contract between Roger and Duchess Jordaine, show it to me right now."