“Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart.” — Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

  ???

  Rain streamed steadily down the window panes of the Black Blade tavern, Evershade’s local inn and watering hole. It was likely the last rainfall of the season before summer hits them.

  Though with the region where Evershade is located, and the fact that they are also located along the coast, with the forests behind them, they get cool winds all year round. As a result, summers were never as blistering hot for them as they were in other parts of Alathia—something that most of the villagers were thankful for once the heatwave hit the kingdom.

  Inside the tavern, it was quieter than usual. The usual sounds of rowdy laughter, spilled drinks, or even off-tune singing by some drunken patrons, were conspicuously absent. Instead, there were just murmurs over half-full tankards of ale, and the occasional clink of glass.

  A strange hush had settled over the tavern, as if the storm outside had seeped into the walls.

  At the bar counter, Yuliana Nightray sat with her arms folded, and her eyes trying to glare holes into the surface of the bar. Her dark cloak hung over the back of the chair next to her, with rain droplets still dripping steadily off her boots and hair.

  It wasn’t every day that the people of Evershade saw the Nightray heiress in the Black Blade, considering that she’s technically still not of age to drink. But in typical Evershade fashion, all they did was give her curious looks, but otherwise, left her alone.

  Anyone with eyes could tell that Yuliana Nightray isn’t in the mood to be tangled with tonight.

  From behind the counter, the tavern owner, Seren Valyne, watched her for a long moment before sliding a short glass across the smooth wood.

  While to most of Evershade and even to House Nightray, Seren is just Evershade’s local tavern owner and barmaid, those within the inner circles of the House knew her better as an information broker and covert operative of House Nightray’s intelligence branch—the kind that only the head and heir of House Nightray knew about.

  Lithe and toned, with amber-hazel eyes flecked with gold, Seren was the last person one would suspect of being a deadly assassin—the kind who could watch you die with cold indifference while sipping from a glass. Dressed in a simple forest-green bodice dress, with her chestnut brown hair tied back in a loose braid, Seren looked nothing like what one might imagine of a Nightray assassin.

  Yulia only looked up when the glass that Seren slid over entered her line of sight. Seren only gave her a small smile. “Juice for you, my lady,” she said dryly, a wry smile tugging slightly at the edges of her lips. “Though I believe that something stronger might suit your mood better.”

  Not that Seren would serve alcohol to someone underage. While some establishments turned a blind eye to such rules, Seren adhered to them, knowing the effects alcohol could have on an adolescent body, especially when abused. Not that she hadn’t made exceptions, but those were typically for Nightray assassins, not Evershade’s villagers, much to their dismay.

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  Yulia didn’t return Seren’s smile. She only sighed. “I would love to have one, regardless of Gareth’s complaints later, but it wouldn’t help. And I would rather keep my wits about me.”

  She, however, took the drink that was served to her, sipping it slowly. The drink was cool, tasting faintly of peppermint and lemon—a speciality drink of Seren’s.

  The tavern owner in question leaned on her elbows, cleaning a tankard with a dry cloth, studying Yulia intently. “You know, every single time you visit the Imperial Palace, you always come back like this,” she said wryly. “All scowls and thunderclouds. There are already bets going around Evershade, and even some of House Nightray, what kind of mood you’ll be in whenever you head to the capital.”

  Jace’s probably a hundred gold richer tonight, Seren thought to herself with amusement.

  Yulia’s thumb circled the rim of her glass, sighing once more. “Every single time I see Rem these days,” she said almost bitterly, “I always walk away with either a headache or an argument. Sometimes both.” She almost buried her face in her hands. “It’s like everything I say goes in one ear and out the other. The kingdom’s falling apart, and people are starving and dying. We’re all stretched thin trying to render aid and help wherever we could, and all he can say is ‘Parliament says’?!” She slammed one hand down hard on the bar counter, causing her glass to rattle, and for conversation within the tavern to quieten down momentarily. “There are so many times that I just want to throttle him.”

  Seren’s lips twitched. “I believe that might qualify as attempted murder or assault of a royal, my lady,” she pointed out.

  Yulia only huffed at Seren’s comment. She still looked exhausted, but there was a light of amusement within her eyes now. Even annoyance. The edges of her lips tugged into something resembling a smile.

  “So, I heard about it. I believe the entire village has, by this point,” Seren said suddenly, resuming the cleaning of the tankard in her hands, and Yulia looked at her with a quizzed brow. “You’ll be leaving for the Imperial Officers Academy next spring?”

  Yulia sighed. “I sometimes wonder where you get your information,” she muttered, and Seren tried to hide a smile. “It’s true.”

  Seren made a sound in her throat. “You don’t sound all that thrilled,” she pointed out.

  Yulia almost groaned. “I didn’t want to go. Not right now, with so many problems plaguing our lands. But Gareth made me. He insisted. Said I’d learn more at the Academy than I would staying behind.”

  “Well, Gareth has a point,” Seren said sensibly. “We’ll take care of things here in your absence. You don’t have to worry. And you won’t be going alone, will you?”

  Yulia frowned into her drink. “No,” she admitted after a moment. “Gale and Elias will be attending, too. Elias waited for both of us to hit the minimum age before enrolling. Classic Elias.” She shook her head. “And maybe Gareth is right about learning more at the Academy. But it still feels like abandoning everything.”

  Seren studied the girl—no, the young woman, sitting across from her. Fourteen years old, and yet carrying more burdens than most her age would have. “No one would see it that way,” she said at last, her voice gentle. “You’ll come back sharper and smarter. The connections you make at the Academy will help you in the years to come. It’s why it’s almost a tradition amongst the noble houses to send their heirs and heiresses to the Academy. It’s not just about learning. But also to build connections and alliances.” She gave Yulia a knowing look. “We’ll hold down the fort here. It’ll be fine. If anything happens, you’re only a half day’s ride from the capital.”

  Silence fell once more, broken only by the muted clinking of tankards and glasses from the patrons. The rain outside pattered harder against the glass panes.

  Then, finally, Yulia spoke again. “Do you think…that my father would be proud?” she asked. “Will he be proud if he could see me now?”

  It wasn’t a question that Yulia had ever asked aloud before. Not even to Gareth. Or even Alaric Hunt.

  Seren was silent for several moments. “You don’t need to be your father,” she said at last. “You’re already more dangerous than he ever was, and that’s a compliment.”

  Yulia blinked at that comment. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed softly. Seren managed a small smile. No one had truly seen Yulia smile like that since her father’s death. She had watched the bright girl she once knew turn into the storm-worn young woman sitting before her.

  There are parts of her that Seren could still see in the small girl that had once torn through Evershade, but sometimes, Seren missed the girl that Yulia used to be. Before duty demanded everything. Before she had to take on the mantle of being the head of House Nightray. Gareth is handling most of the House’s affairs right now due to Yulia’s age, but she is also handling some of the affairs that only the head and heir could handle.

  Yulia managed a smile. “That’s indeed a compliment, coming from you,” she agreed.

  The rest of the night was then spent in contemplative silence.