Before the war, Aurelia had never missed a meal in her life. If she’d ever disliked what her family’s servants cooked, more chefs would’ve been ready at a moment’s notice to whip up one of her favorite comforts on the spot. Even after she’d been taken aboard the Tanngnjostr, she’d always nibbled enough of the food they’d brought to keep herself sustained.

  So the real hunger she felt then, as she lay on the floor of her quarters — not just an unpleasant gnawing, but true, lightheaded starvation — was a new experience.

  It was horrible. She couldn’t believe her mother and grandfather allowed southern peasants to starve to death every few years, when the floodwaters of the Set yielded insufficient harvests.

  But it had been just over a month since she’d last seen Roskvir, by then, and she couldn’t take worrying any longer. So it had been almost three days since she’d last touched any food. Her demand was simple. And if her captors wouldn’t give in — well, she supposed they’d start force-feeding her eventually. But she didn’t have to make it easy for them.

  Her chamber door opened. It was six o’clock, Aurelia guessed, just when her ladies-in-waiting switched shifts.

  “Well, your highness…” announced Hildr. “I hope you will appreciate this. We went to great lengths to secure a special exception.”

  Aurelia picked herself up as a familiar pair of jackboots followed the new batch of maids through the entryway. And indeed, she saw, it was Roskvir who stood awkwardly in the door.

  She ran to him despite her dizziness, hugging his waist. She might’ve been embarrassing herself in front of their audience, but she didn’t care.

  But after a moment, she sensed an odd mood.

  Roskvir seemed strangely stiff. And he certainly hadn’t reciprocated her embrace. She let go, stepping back.

  “...Roskvir?”

  “Uh… hullo,” he said.

  “Will you at least eat now, your highness?” asked Hildr.

  “Only if you leave us alone.” said Aurelia.

  “Your highness—”

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  “Please. Just five minutes.”

  Hildr bit her lip, then nodded to the ladies-in-waiting. The maids bowed, then filed back out of the chamber.

  “What’s wrong, Roskvir?” she asked, once they were gone. “Where have you been?"

  “I—”

  Roskvir blinked, furrowing his brow, clearly confused.

  “You... remember me, right?" she asked quietly.

  He hesitated.

  "You're princess Aurelia. I was in charge of your security, before."

  "Yes... why haven't you come? What did they do to you?"

  “They told me… that they were investigating whether I did something bad. So they moved me off your security detail. I don’t report straight to the shogun at all, anymore. I work for Jari now, the new intelligence chief. Jari’s been helping me get better, to make sure I definitely don’t do anything bad. I’m really grateful to him.”

  Roskvir smiled in what seemed an expression of genuine happiness.

  Aurelia felt as though she was going to be sick, as the horror set in.

  “Jari says the investigation is looking good for me, because so far, my story is checking out. They say Thjali really did desert, and the native soldier who came aboard really was quite powerful. I don’t really know what that all means… there’s a lot I don’t really remember well. I’m just glad that they’re not upset with me.”

  “Roskvir…”

  “And Jari’s been giving me field assignments again, so I’m also glad to feel useful. He says he just needs to give me a few more tests to make sure he can trust me, and then I’ll be restored to full privileges.”

  “What… what sort of assignments?” asked Aurelia, fearing his answer.

  “About two weeks ago they rotated me through an engineer’s regiment to help flush out some urban holdouts. And Jari’s had me sit in for a few interrogations. He says burns are a good motivator. And now, of course, they’re going to have me visit you every so often, because they say it will cheer you up. Do you think it will?”

  Aurelia staggered backward in terror.

  She could remember their last meeting on the night of the battle in perfect detail. How he’d looked back at her one last time, before the soldiers had escorted him from her chamber. There’d been a defiant gleam in his eyes. A promise.

  But as he spoke to her then — even as he seemed to smile — it was as if no light shone in his eyes at all. Like they were already lifeless, and dead.

  “Go. Go away…” she said.

  “Your highness?”

  “Go away. Now!”

  Roskvir cocked his head to one side, puzzled, but retreated nonetheless. He bowed at the door, then shut it behind him.

  Aurelia collapsed against the side of her bed. She felt herself about to vomit, but then only dry heaved, as of course nothing came back up.

  They were going to have to force-feed her, she resolved. Because that wasn't Roskvir.

  As far as she was concerned, they’d killed Roskvir.

  "Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light."

  Theodore Rotheke