Everna awoke four days later.

In the week since, many truths came to light. For the second time in three months, Pendel received the most shocking revelation yet, as news of Mayor Ashburn's survival spread like a prairie fire. It made headlines far beyond the town's borders, reaching every corner of the kingdom from Pendel in the south to the northernmost city of Everna. The featured story covered only as much as the Courts allowed, but it spoke of a foiled political takeover spearheaded by Shroud. They intended to sway the elections in favor of Windmore's unwilling son — whom had fled back to the capital when he learned of his father's intentions — in order to create an ideal puppet for Shroud's shadow government. While Arden's foresight that prevented the tragedy, they hailed Everna a hero for her part in killing Godwin.

Between her actions, Landen's forced confession courtesy of Leah's truth spells, and Arden's testimony, presenting her case to the Courts was no longer a concern. In a public announcement issued the day after her confrontation with Shroud, the Courts declared all charges against her dropped. They couldn't try her for a murder that never occurred. The implications of treason, however, would remain on record, regardless of the Courts' verdict.

It was a convoluted matter. The Courts would have to go through her records and alter them in ways beyond their allotted power. As they considered treason a direct offense against the Crown, only the Crown had the authority to approve the removal of the charges. No matter how many notes the Courts attached to her public record, it wouldn't matter. For most people in Inverness, merely being suspected of treason was as damning as a guilty verdict. Until they could remove those accusations, she likely wouldn't be able to go anywhere but Pendel without facing some repercussions.

The Courts leveled Landen with every charge possible, from treason to attempted murder. While Arden wanted the pleasure of executing him, the Courts refused the request and ordered Landen transferred to the capital. He would have the honor of being the example they initially wanted to make of her.

Lyra, whom she hadn't seen since the hour before the festival, faced a more precarious situation. Though unwilling and her role minor in hindsight, she was still involved. Arden insisted upon mercy; Shroud coerced her into participation through threats of violence against her family. The Courts stayed the noose, but they hadn't yet decided on a suitable punishment. Everna hoped they were lenient.

As much as it hurt to know her closest friend knew of what was happening and kept silent, she firmly believed Lyra had suffered enough. It wasn't as if she wanted to be involved, and if her parents, who otherwise wouldn't hesitate to brandish weapons and promise death towards anyone who dared do her wrong, could begrudgingly forgive her, then so could she. It was her fault she was in the guest rooms to begin with.

Regardless of what happened next, Everna was relieved. It was finally over and that's all that mattered — even if it took nearly dying to clear her name.

Leah had barely reached her in time, she'd been told. The damage was almost too much for her to heal; it took two healing potions, a hefty healing spell, and much pleading with the Golden Lady to repair the internal damage. Godwin's sword had ripped through more than just her stomach, and those wounds were difficult to mend, even for a high priestess as favored as Leah. With the other wounds she sustained — a shredded eye, a suspected punctured lung, and several broken bones — it was a miracle she'd recovered as well as she had.

All that remained now was a thin scar that wrapped around her right side, and one that began at her lip and trailed up through her left eye, stopping just short of her hairline. Leah had sealed the wounds and restored her vision, but from time to time, she still felt the stinging burn of the blade carving into her flesh. Her eye had hurt when she woke that morning, and the phantom pains hadn't subsided until early afternoon.

She'd likely never stop feeling it, Leah had said. She could heal the physical wounds, but she could do nothing for the trauma. It was psychological, and no spell or potion could combat it; at least, not that she knew of.

It was a small price to pay for surviving; Everna was lucky it didn't cost more.

"I see the local hero has woken up."

Everna glanced up from the book in her lap — a horribly dull romantic drama Lisette snatched from Vina that morning — and found Cian leaning against her door frame.

While she'd fully recovered from her wounds, and Leah cleared her for everything short of another suicidal fight with Shroud, her parents insisted she remain in bed for the rest of the week. It was rather annoying; she hadn't had a breath of fresh air, save what drifted through her window, since she woke a week prior. They wouldn't even let her stand on the curb for a few minutes.

"And I see his Royal Highness has finally returned from the capital," she teased, a smile touching her lips when he rolled his eyes. "Leah said you'd be gone for some time, if you came back at all."

He pushed away from the door, an envelope clutched between his fingers. "I'm just the errand boy this time. No one's trying to stick your head in a noose. Quite the opposite, in fact."

She took the envelope, turning it over in her hands. It carried the seal of the Crown, the impression of a crown of roses pressed into the hardened wax. There was nothing on the front. Frowning, she popped the seal and peaked at the letter inside.

It took two full reads before she understood words scrawled across the page.

"A full pardon?"

"Took a bit of hassling," Cian said, shrugging. "A bit of threatening and several pointed reminders that you nearly died because of their meddling before they agreed to overlook a couple laws and allow me to grant it. And, if you were to decide you wanted to go back to the academy, money wouldn't be an issue."

Everna pursed her lips and glanced back at the letter. Then she motioned for him to close her door. Confused, he obliged.

As soon as the latch clicked into place, she said, "Actually, I was considering joining Shadowguard — officially — instead."

Cian cocked his head, his brows drawn. "After what just happened, you want to throw yourself back into that mess?"

Carefully, she folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope, which she placed on her bedside table. She tossed aside her covers, stumbled from her bed, legs aching with disuse, and padded over to her vanity. From the top drawer on the right side, she withdrew the Shadowguard badge.

"I found this in the stronghold," she said, holding it up for him to see. "Osain said it belonged to one of his agents that went missing several months before Arden's staged murder. He told me to keep it, just in case I needed it."

She turned it over in her hands, allowing the warmth of the magic to spread over her. It was the first time in days she'd felt its touch, her sword and dagger stashed inside her bedside table. The rod was useless now. She'd used up the last of its magic when she'd taken out the Anwellian agent in the stronghold. It now occupied the rack she once hung her sword from, a keepsake of her own. In the future, perhaps she could enchant it with a different spell.

"I think, instead, I should earn the right to have it," she continued. "With the letter you just delivered, my ordeal with the Courts is over, but I don't think my trouble with Shroud is."

Cian glanced between her and the badge. "You think they'll come for you again?"

"If everything I've heard about them so far holds true, it's not a matter of whether they will, but when they will," she said. "Next time, I may not be so lucky."

If Shroud indeed believed she was a threat to the entire organization, they wouldn't turn a blind eye to her — not after she killed one of their Taskmasters. Their next attempt might not be as covert. Pendel may end up like Windhollow, and she couldn't bear the thought of that.

"You know what you're getting yourself into?" he asked, pulling the badge from her hand. "It won't be like it was at the safe house."

"What is it like, then?"

He leaned against her vanity, his arms crossed, and flipped the badge between his fingers, much in the way she'd seen rogues flip coins. "They'll send you to Alund, where the bulk of our new recruits go. You'll be there for a year, and there's no leaving until you've completed your training. No visitors or contact with the outside world. The only way out early is death."

"As horribly gruesome as that sounds, thank the gods," she sighed. "I love my parents to death, but I don't think I could handle them showing up uninvited like they did at the academy."

Cian snorted. "I'm surprised they're alright with this. I figured..." He paused, his gaze darting to the closed door. "You haven't told them."

"I'm not going to," she admitted. "I know they mean well, and I know they're worried, but they'll try to stop me. Mom's not fond of Shadowguard."

"She'll assume Osain put you up to it."

"And that's exactly why I've told no one but you. I want my parents to realize this was my decision, not something someone talked me into, and that won't happen unless I leave without them knowing."

“And that’s exactly why I’ve told no one but you,” she sighed. “I want my parents to realize this was my decision, not something someone talked me into, and that’s not going to happen unless I leave without telling anyone.”

“How were you planning to get there, then? Alund’s a five-day ride to the north, and that’s after you get out of Inverness which, with this snow, could take a week,” he said, eying her with suspicion. “That road’s dangerous. It goes through the Ablow Gorge in the Marlrock Mountains, which are crawling with cave trolls, among other things. You’d need a company of guards to escort you, if not another half.”

She flung her hands up in exasperation. “I don’t know! All I know is Shroud’s not going to stop coming after me and gods knows my parents won’t help me! They won’t even let me piss by myself and I’m fully healed.”

He was quiet for a few moments. “Osain’s sending Vina to Alund in a week’s time.”

Everna groaned. “Great, I get to deal with Vina more.”

“You want in? You’ll have to get the recommendation from Osain, anyway. You can’t just walk up to the door with a stolen badge.”

Sighing, she turned away from the vanity and moved to the window, peering at the snowy town beyond. Children cluttered the streets, hiding behind mounds of glittering white as they lobbed balls of snow at each other. Adela poked her head out from behind the farthest most bunker, a snowball striking her square in the face. She appeared again moments later, this time to lob a ball of her own at her brother, who shuffled past, draped in the regimentals of the Guard.

Since the revelation of Mayor Ashburn’s survival, Pendel returned to genuine normalcy once more. Even the looming food shortages and long winter couldn’t dampen their spirits. The streets were lively once more, the tension that blanketed the town gone.

“I just don’t want to see anymore Windhollows.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” he said, crossing the room to stand beside her at the window. As always, he made no noise as he walked, even the creaky floorboards silent beneath his feet. “They don’t blame you, you know.”

“Perhaps Windhollow wasn’t, but what happened in the stronghold was. I’m the one who insisted we go after Godwin. I almost got us all killed because I had to prove something.”

“Is that why you’re joining Shadowguard? To prove something?”

She turned to him, fully, and pursed her lips. He truly was handsome, in a rugged sort of way that even the delicateness of his elvish half couldn’t quite overshadow. He still looked more a scoundrel than a prince with the worn leathers, several days’ old scruff around his chin, and daggers strapped to his hip. There were more than she saw, she knew; she’d watched him pull them from several places she’d never thought possible.

“I’m tired of seeing the people I care about nearly die trying to save me.”

“And you think I- the rest of us don’t feel the same when it comes to you?” he asked, his eyes narrowed. “Do you have any idea how terrifying it was to watch you nearly tear yourself in half just to get at Godwin?”

Everna chewed on her lower lip. How could she not? She barely remembered what she’d done, but not two seconds after she opened her eyes, she’d gotten the lecture of a century from eight different people. Her mother slapped her so hard she felt the sting for the next four hours.

“I’m sorry,” she said at length. “Not just for that, but for everything else. I think I caused enough problems to last this Shadowguard a few more months.”

“It’s not like you went looking for trouble with Shroud,” he said, his voice a touch softer. “Besides, it’s our job. Someone’s got to help the damsels in distress.”

“Which I hear is a regular occurrence for you,” she said, jabbing him in the shoulder. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“Well, it’s not every day a feisty little barmaid gets pulled into Shroud’s plots. It was a pain in the ass, sure, but it was entertaining, if nothing else.”

He could say that, but Leah and Lisette made it clear that wasn’t entirely the case. Cian stayed when he normally wouldn’t. He cared what happened to her, even if he refused to admit it. With people like him, actions spoke louder than words.

The letter sitting on her bedside table spoke volumes, whether he realized it or not.

She would miss him when she left. He might be a cheeky ass about most things, but that was a fair part of his charm. She never did like overly proper men; she liked them cheeky and with just enough moral ambiguity to keep her on her toes, but not so lacking that it caused problems.

It’d be at least a year before she saw him again, if their paths ever crossed. Lisette said Shadowguard agents went where they were told. Cian likely remained in Inverness because of his status, but there was no telling where they’d send her once she joined their ranks. She might find herself stationed halfway across the region for years at a time.

To hell with it, she had nothing to lose.

She lifted her hand to his face, his stubble rough against her palm. His eyes widened, the light catching the colors of his eyes — the green as vibrant as the spring forest beneath the lamp burning at her bedside table.

“Thank you,” she said, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek, “for everyth-

She hit the wall, the window sill digging into her lower back. His hands found her hips as he pressed against her, stealing her breath with a searing kiss. Heat rushed to her cheeks, her heart skipping several beats. Her arms hovered lamely at her sides, then, as her eyes slid closed, she threw them around his neck.

Everna had been kissed before, several times during drunken revelries in the capital, but it never felt quiet like this. There was no head rush; no butterflies in her stomach with them. With him, it was all of that, and a touch more. Every point of contact burned, his hands hot on her hips despite the thin night gown between them.

Perhaps with him, it was a matter of familiarity. The others were nameless faces, the result of one too many drinks or whatever games her dorm mates cajoled her into playing. This was almost three months of tension finally finding some resolution.

Maybe Lisette and Leah were onto something after all.

Just as she leaned back to catch her breath, her door flew open. Her entire room shook as it slammed into the wall, startling the both of them. Everna jumped, her head knocking into the underside of the open window. Cian jerked back, his eyes wide, this time with fear.

Please be Corden. Please be Corden. Please be-

“I knew it!”

Ah, shit.

Cian spun to look over his shoulder and cursed.

Her mother stood in the doorway, mouth twisted with disapproval. Then, she smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. A dagger slipped out from beneath the sleeve of her dress.

Everna scrambled out of the way as Cian bolted through the window. From there he dropped onto the low hanging roof below, which sheltered the tavern’s side entrance from the weather, and took off into the streets. Her mother tore after him, flinging herself down the drain spout, her curses carrying on the breeze. Several of the children below paused their wintry fight to watch the commotion. Adela peered up at her, and even from her window, Everna caught the curious tilt of her head.

Despite the heat in her cheeks and her heart hammering in her chest, she couldn’t help but chuckle as she propped her elbows on the sill and watched as their figures grew distant, people stumbling aside to let them pass. She’d catch him, surely. Gods help him when she did.

Gods help her when she finally came home; if her father didn’t take the hinges off her door, she’d be lucky. It would be a pointless endeavor. His figure disappeared around a corner and she released a sigh.

There was a possibility that may be the last she ever saw of him.

Resolve

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