Carter woke up late the next morning. The bed she’d been lent at the palace was so comfortable she laid there for another ten minutes, basking in it. The mattress and duvet felt like the embrace of a fluffy lamb. Best shuteye she’d gotten in her whole life.

Once she sat up, she looked around the room. It was huge, with some windows at her right, a walk-in closet, a vanity, a writing table, and other pieces of furniture and decor. Among these was a dresser to the right of the bed, upon which was a book of the Hathorshan constitution, and a large aluminum box with a note taped to it. One of the dresser drawers was open, and inside it Carter could see a pitcher of water and a glass— presumably moved there to make room for the box.

Carter detached the note and read it: “Clothes and supplies for the mission. Take what you need. Breakfast in the East Wing.”

The mission. Carter grimaced, remembering her bold statement last night, accepting the prince’s job offer. Was she really going to go through with it? She glanced into the box as she rose from the bed. A tan cloth obscured the rest of its contents, but she hoped it had a toothbrush. And her knife. She turned away, headed towards the window, and pulled aside the curtains.

The view amazed her. The people below looked like the ant colonies she would come across in the forest. The forest which she could also see from here, beyond the cityscape. Home. She felt a tug at her heart upon viewing it. 

She was used to light and metal, of course. But here, in the palace, the lights were a bit too bright, and the scent of steel was a bit too sharp and pervading. And more bizarre than that was that there was no shortage of people anywhere, no distance, no laws, and no canopy of leaves to separate them from each other. She could go down and leave the palace right now and be among countless other humans. Even in the palace, every minute had been crowded. 

Carter rested her head on the sill for a moment, wondering if she could even bring herself to leave the room now.

Then she gritted her teeth and smacked her head. What kind of cowardice was this? Never did she have a clear purpose, and now one was staring her in the face. She could learn more about her mother and track her down. They could be together again.

Immortals let go of their children easily— or so Carter heard. But of course she had her theories on where Yun’ha had gone and why, when Carter was only eight years old. Maybe she decided to tour the world. Maybe she’d gotten a job as a tutor of magic arts. Or maybe… she’d moved to Cleftis, to work for the queen. 

After staring out the window for a few more minutes, Carter pulled away. She was ready to head east. She put on her boots, picked up the box of supplies, and ducked out of the room.

Upon reaching the dining hall, the lengthy table was uninhabited, except for one person— Astrid Faizah, the ambassador, was also having a late breakfast near the head of the table. She looked up and gave a gentle wave when Carter walked in, but her mouth was too full to say anything more in greeting.

Carter nodded at her vaguely but decided to sit way at the other end. She always ate alone, except for when her mother had been with her. Better to play it safe and keep it that way. 

As soon as Carter sat down, two butlers appeared from behind the swiveling kitchen door and began piling food onto her plate. Flatbread, spiced melons, some kind of meat, a stack of apple-pumpkin biscuits, and eggs cooked in more ways than Carter knew was possible.

She dug in, and it all tasted so good. When she bit into the mystery meat she was pleased to find that it was duxsquama— giant lizard meat. City-dwellers would always pay an enormous sum to immortals who could bring them a slaughtered duxsquama. Apparently, places like this were where that meat ended up.

Maybe she could get used to the rich lifestyle, with its fluffy beds, towering heights, and endless delicacies handed to her. Carter began to mentally calculate just how much she could get with a hundred thousand ferras.

Suddenly, the ambassador sat down in the chair beside her, popping her theoretical thought bubble.

“Good morning, Carter. Sorry to disturb you,” Ambassador Faizah said with a warm smile. 

Carter swallowed a piece of bread. “Oh. Hi.”

“I realized I never properly introduced myself. I’m Astrid Faizah— you can call me Astrid. It was nice to meet you yesterday.”

“Oh right,” Carter replied. “You’re going to be traveling with us.”

“Yep! We’re leaving tomorrow morning, by the way. Are you all set?”

“Tomorrow?" Carter leaned into the single emotion she was most confident expressing— rage. "What about all the cool stuff I left at home! I don’t even think I put out my fire before the meat-headed knight dragged me off.”

“Meathead?” Astrid blinked. “Ah, you mean Sephia.”

“Yeah, sure. The Meathead and Prince Pest.”

“Wow. What’s my nickname?”

“Dunno. I haven’t thought of a reason to hate you yet.”

Astrid patted Carter’s shoulder and laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll come up with something.” The corners of her eyes crinkled with amusement. “You really are kind of immature.”

Carter reddened. “Yeah, you’re getting there. But for the record, I’m nowhere near as immature as that pest. I’m just emulating my superiors, and tragically falling short.”

“What? His Majesty has always been very distinguished.”

“Oh.” Carter paused for a moment, then gave an empty laugh and changed the subject. “Anyway, who are you calling immature? You seem like you could be younger than me.”

“I’m 24. That makes…?”

“Okay, three years older.” Having lost this battle, Carter changed the subject once again. “I’m still surprised that you’re an ambassador at such a young age, though.”

Astrid smiled and traced circles in the tablecloth with her finger. “Everyone says that, but is it really so impressive? I don’t think anyone expected me to do any real ambassadorial work for a couple years, at least. But now with what’s happened…” She watched as Carter quickly polished off a plate of eggs. “I am excited to go North, though. So few people have gotten that opportunity, you know.”

“Probably because they don’t want to,” Carter remarked, although she wasn’t totally sure. In any case, at this point she couldn’t eat another bite. However there was still an assortment of bread and biscuits that she hadn’t eaten yet.

She had known it would be too much even for her appetite, but she couldn’t bring herself to refuse. Who would eat it if she didn’t? Sometimes, before she’d learned to store and preserve it, food in the forest had been so scarce that she didn’t eat for days.

She stood and considered the box Sephia had left for her. She pulled off the fabric on top and dropped it on the table, leading Astrid to inspect it.

Then Carter pulled out a steel helmet from the box and started stacking all the remaining food in it, so she could finish it later. Astrid looked on with a mixture of confusion and interest and said, “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I want to.” Carter set down the helmet, finished. “First rule of living in the dangerous North: don’t waste food.”

“That’s a very reasonable point of view.”

“I know,” Carter said flatly. She glanced back at the fabric, which Astrid then unfolded and held up to her. 

Astrid smiled. “It’s a nice cloak. It was a good idea to take it in the snow.” 

“Yeah… I guess I’ll keep it around. But this other stuff…” Carter removed a pair of boots from the box. “This is snakeskin. Really high quality and expensive for city-dwellers, just like everything else here. But it’ll just fall apart in the snow.” 

“Wow, I see.”

“And— argh! There isn’t a single knife in here, much less my throwing knife. You guys really don’t know anything about the wild.”

Astrid gave her a quizzical look. “A knife? Like for self-defense?”

“I guess... but... more for just hunting and normal stuff like that. I had one with me when I got here, but one of your guards took it away. I need a bow too, but mine is at home.”

“Like you mentioned before,” Astrid said sympathetically. “Maybe I can find new ones for you. We don't really have archers in the guard, but I'm sure we could get a bow from somewhere.”

Carter’s lip curled. “That’s not the same! It’s… it’s…” She couldn't find the words to explain that her own tools were like an extension of herself, on multiple levels.

"I understand," Astrid said anyway, holding up a hand. "How about this? Why don’t you find Sephia and ask her if you can go back to your house for a few minutes, to pick up your bow and whatever else you want? Tell her I approved it.” 

Carter sighed and stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets. “Is that really gonna convince her? I think she has it out for me.”

Astrid smiled and held the cloak out to Carter. “Might as well try.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Sephia stood in the deliberation chamber. She was by Thornwillow, who was sitting at the table and spinning the combination lock on a small bronze-colored case. Today, it was just the two of them in here. The other advisors and Prince Jacob were still in the closed-off back room, behind Thornwillow. 

“You must be wondering why I called you out here,” Thornwillow said. 

Sephia said nothing.

“Don’t worry, it won’t take long.” With a click, the case opened, and Thornwillow moved his hands from the lock and raised his head to look at Sephia. From her angle with the table she could only see a faint gleam coming from inside the case, and nothing more.

“I know you take your duties seriously,” Thornwillow said. He paused for a moment to eye her scar.  “You’ve proven yourself by becoming His Majesty the prince's personal guard, and nothing less than the highest-ranking combatant in Hathorsha. With a level of loyalty and skill such as yours, there is little to worry about. Except, of course, the threat of immortality.” He said this last bit as though it left a bad taste in his mouth. Then, he reached into the case and removed, silvery and adorned in gold accents, a sheathed dagger. 

He considered Sephia and found nothing better to say except, “This is the Artios. You know of it?”

Sephia’s mouth fell open, and stayed that way as Thornwillow stood and placed the dagger in her hands. 

“I— I do,” she finally said. Her fingers curved preciously around the dagger, as though it could possibly break if dropped, as though it weren’t in perfect condition despite record of its existence extending back millenia.

Thornwillow nodded. “All right. Take care, yes?” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “And remember, this is powerful stuff. Don’t let Noelle touch it. You know, unless she acts up.”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Sephia cut her eyes at him. “Although… if she were to act up, she’d get the sharp edge.”