It was good there were so few nobles and courtiers attending Lidda Plavin. There were about two dozen people, including guards, in the throne room, and Felitïa doubted she could handle any more. It was taking almost everything she had to keep out of their heads, and she worried her wavering concentration was going to foil her invisibility. She wasn’t certain what she was going to do when Lidda Plavin herself arrived. More guards and courtiers would undoubtedly accompany her, probably servants too.

She wanted to reach Malef first, before Plavin’s arrival. But he was standing, fidgeting, on the dais, right out in the open, where she would be most noticed if her invisibility wavered.

She almost hadn’t recognised him. Although she had lived very little of her life in the Palace, she had seen a little of him the last time she was here. Plus, everyone across Arnor knew of Malef’s famous handlebar moustache. The man standing on the dais was clean-shaven, so she had assumed he was someone else at first. It was only after staring at him for a few seconds—and accidentally touching his mind for the briefest of moments—that she realised who he was. She had no idea why he’d shaved it off, but she suspected it had something to do with Lidda Plavin.

Gods, things had changed here.

It had been an interesting few hours.

One thing she hadn’t considered when she and Zandrue had left so early in the morning was that it would be even earlier here in the Royal Palace. It was obvious in retrospect, but… Oh well. In some ways, it was a good thing. With fewer people awake, it made it easier for her to adjust to suddenly having presences in the Room in her head.

It wasn’t a lot at first, just a few guards and servants here and there as she’d taken Zandrue outside. She initially threw up the diamond walls to block them completely. It helped her concentration on the invisibility spell, especially while she was hiding both herself and Zandrue. However, once Zandrue went her own way, it occurred to her that having presences in the Room would be helpful in keeping track of how many people were around, so she distorted the diamond walls so they would hopefully keep her in her own head, while letting others’ presences in.

It seemed to work at first.

She decided to return to her apartments for a couple hours, while she waited for the Palace to wake up. She only made it part of the way before the first complication arose.

She was approaching a door with a presence on the other side. The presence wasn’t moving, so it was presumably a guard. She would have to be careful opening…

She stopped. That was foolish of her. Just because the presence seemed to be directly on the other side of the door didn’t mean that was where it was. She couldn’t remember having made a mistake like that in a very long time. The fact that the position of presences in the Room had no relation to their bodies’ locations had been one of the very first things she’d learned about her abilities.

Still, the fact she couldn’t see this particular person indicated they were on the other side of the door, so it was still appropriate to be careful opening it.

Gods, she was so out of practice. Hiding the door opening took much more energy than it should have.

Sure enough, there was a guard directly on the other side. Coincidence presumably.

She slipped past without too much extra difficulty, and was about to continue on her way, but stopped. There was something nagging her, so she turned around and looked at the guard. He was a boy, slouched over, and yawning, boredom flowing from him.

Felitïa backed away a few steps. The guard’s presence in the Room moved in proportion to her movement. She took a few more steps, and the guard’s presence moved in proportion once again.

The previous guard’s presence was still in the Room, apparently in almost the exact centre. It hadn’t moved and presumably wouldn’t until she was out of range and it vanished. Taking a closer look at the earlier guard’s presence, she followed its tether line to the grey walls, where it exited through one of the many tiny holes.

Returning to the closer guard’s presence, she then followed that one’s tether to the gap in the grey walls.

Gods damn.

The grey walls were responsible for the messed up locations. They had to be distorting distances somehow. It all made so much sense.

She almost laughed…

...and fell right into the guard’s head.

Shit.

His head was an expanse of dull grey stretching off to infinity. His current boredom? Maybe.

The grey flickered red. It was only momentary, but for that brief moment, there was extreme heat as well.

As the grey returned, the guard said aloud, “What the hell? Who are you and where did you come from?”

Shit, shit, shit.

With her out of her own head, she’d lost concentration on the spell.

This is a dream, she said before rushing back into her own body. A quick tilt of her head, and she put the guard to sleep. Then she recast the invisibility spell.

The guard groaned as he fell over, hit his head, and woke himself up.

Hopefully, he would believe the dream bit, but there was no time to find out. Felitïa hurried away as quickly as she dared, while maintaining concentration on the spell.

Once she was back in her apartments, she pulled, stretched, squashed, and bent the diamond walls, trying to find the best configuration to keep herself in her head. Unfortunately, there was no way to be truly sure—not without testing them against other people. And that could go disastrously bad.

Maybe she should have listened to Mikranasta. Maybe she really wasn’t ready for this.

She took a deep breath, and focused on calming herself.

Whether she was ready or not, she was here now. She had to do it. She had to do it for Zandrue. She had to do it for herself. And the only way to do it was to test herself against others.

She could do this.

And she would.

As Zandrue had suggested, she needed to find Malef and follow him around. It was still not dawn yet, and he was probably still asleep, but she would station herself near to where he was sleeping, and see what happened from there.

Of course, finding where he was sleeping could pose a problem. She knew roughly where his apartments were—not far from her own. However, he could be with Lidda Plavin, and would she stay in his apartments or move herself to somewhere more prestigious like the Monarch’s apartments?

Perhaps the better option was to wait until morning breakfast. She could go to the dining room and wait there for Malef to show up. That was what she would do.

There was still an hour or more before breakfast would be served, so she spent some time in her apartments meditating, and making certain she was calm and focused. As the Palace woke up, there would be more and more people around, and thus, more and more chances to fail to stay out of their heads.

When she left for the dining room, she discovered it didn’t exist anymore—not in a usable state, at any rate. So she headed for the smaller private Royal dining room.

She didn’t make it there either.

By chance, she overheard some servants talking and learned Lidda Plavin would be holding an early morning audience in the throne room, and Malef would be there.

And that was how she had ended up here now in a throne room surrounded by courtiers and nobles, thankful that there weren’t a huge number of them, but still worried there were more than she could handle.

Perhaps it would be better to wait somewhere else until after the audience and then try to follow Malef around. There probably wouldn’t be so many people. She was curious, though, to see Lidda Plavin and to hear what she had to say.

Probably a foolish decision.

Yes, she should leave. Now.

“Her Majesty, Lidda Plavin, future Queen of Arnor!” the herald bellowed.

Well, a quick look couldn’t hurt. There really wasn’t any way out without looking, anyway.

Everyone in the hall turned to face the doors, and Felitïa turned with them.

Pale and thin, and wearing a sparkling, ruby-red gown, Lidda Plavin strode imperiously into the room. On her head, she wore a chaperon similar to what Felitïa’s mother used to wear—just as tall and just as gaudy.

This was the woman Felitïa hoped to kill.

Gods, could she actually do it?

Not here, of course—there were too many people—but yes, she could do it.

But there were more pressing things first.

She should get out of here and wait until the audience was over before getting herself close to Malef.

But there was a man who entered beside Lidda. Tall and thin-faced, he had a long, thin moustache that hung down beneath his chin on each side. This had to be Moustache Man, Lamaën.

Lidda and Lamaën walked slowly along the carpet in the room towards the thrones, followed by a contingent of guards.

Felitïa watched and turned with the rest of the people present as Lidda and Lamaën passed. She should really leave, but she didn’t. She needed to see this out.

Lidda held out her hand as she reached the steps of the dais. Malef took it, and bowed over to kiss it gently.

“My love,” Lidda said. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

Malef bowed low, then, still holding her hand, led her up the steps to the Bear Throne, where she sat and gazed out over the room.

She looked small in the throne.

That was the only comforting thing about seeing her there. It was otherwise a horrifying sight.

It seemed other people in the room agreed. No one showed it, of course, but feelings of disapproval and disgust emanated about the room. They were particularly strong from a man standing right beside Felitïa, and there was just a hint of it showing on his face as his lips twitched, almost forming a frown or sneer.

Felitïa had no idea who he was, but maybe he could be an ally. In the Room in her head, his presence seemed just a little brighter and bigger than the others. That was weird. She had never noticed an effect like that before. Presences usually…

No, it wasn’t bigger. She was just falling closer to it, into the tether that would take her into his head.

She pulled back, causing tension on the invisibility spell, so she took a quick moment to readjust it. It had only wavered for the barest sliver of a moment. There was no way anyone noticed anything, and if they did, they would probably just think it was a shadow or trick of the light.

Lamaën was looking at her.

Oh shit.

Surely he was just looking in her general direction, and not right at her. He might have been looking over the whole room, and she only noticed it when his gaze passed her.

But his gaze wasn’t moving. He continued to look in her direction.

Who the hell was this man? A very high-ranking Darker, obviously, but not the Dusk Supreme. Why was he so important? More importantly, what did he know? What could she learn from him?

It would be so easy to enter his head—so easy she was already moving towards his presence in the Room. His tether was coming through the big hole in the grey walls, so it would be even easier.

But no! She pulled back a bit. If she went in, she could lose control of the invisibility spell again. She almost certainly would. Even if she didn’t, there was every chance he would notice her presence in his head.

But gods, it was so tempting! Maybe just a little peak…

No!

She wrapped the diamond walls around his presence, and pulled away, stressing the spell again.

Gods damn it! She should never have come here.

But Lamaën turned his gaze back to the Bear Throne, where Lidda was holding up her hand for quiet. Felitïa hadn’t even noticed that there had been any noise, but some laughter quickly died off. Had Lidda said something? Or someone else?

Gods, she’d let herself get too distracted by Lamaën.

He hadn’t seen her, had he? Surely not. Maybe he just thought he saw something, looked for a little bit, and decided he hadn’t. Yes, that had to be it.

“My Lords and Ladies,” Lidda said, “thank you for attending me today. I know I haven’t made a lot of appearances recently. I’ve been fighting a terrible illness, but as you can see, I am close to full recovery. I want to thank my beloved Malef for the work he’s done, both watching over me in my illness and carrying out my desires to keep this place running smoothly. I owe him so much.” She smiled at Malef, who bowed his head to her.

“Now,” Lidda continued, “I’d like to go over several things and then receive your continued pledges of support. Keep in mind, though, that I am still somewhat weak, and I can only manage this for a short time, so we must be quick and efficient. I’d like to start by…”

The presence of the man beside Felitïa loomed closer in the Room, and she slipped into the thin tube tethering his presence to his body. Felitïa almost gasped and pulled herself back out.

Damn it, she had to get out of here. Find Malef later when there were fewer people around. It was just too much of a risk right now.

Moving as quickly as she dared, she made her way to the nearest door. Luckily, there was a servants’ entrance not far from her spot. With pretty much everyone focused on the throne, she could easily hide her passage through the door.

Once she was through and far enough away that the people in the throne room were no longer in the Room in her head, she leaned against a wall and took several slow breaths. Her heart was beating madly and she needed to calm herself. After a few moments, once her heartbeat slowed a little, she stood back up straight. She needed to get somewhere private where she could drop the invisibility spell and meditate for a little while.

She made her way back to her apartments, doing her best to avoid as many people as possible. Luckily, there weren’t many. The Palace was definitely understaffed.

After an hour or so of meditation, she felt a bit better to face the world again. She had to keep to areas with smaller numbers of people this time. She would try the private family dining room. With the main dining room unusable, Malef had to come there eventually, and there weren’t likely to be more than a few people. Lidda Plavin might be there too.

And Lamaën.

She tried not to think of that. She really didn’t relish seeing him again, as she couldn’t shake the idea he might have noticed her in the throne room. If he had, he would certainly tell Lidda Plavin of it.

Felitïa groaned. The problem was, anywhere Malef might be, there was a good chance Lidda and Lamaën would, as well. Oh well, she would have to rely on smaller numbers of people making it easier for her to hide herself from Lamaën.

It took her awhile to find the family dining room, as she had no memory of ever having been there. She was sure she must have gone there at some point as a child, but it was so long ago and she had been so young. As she couldn’t actually ask anyone directions now, she had to rely on guessing and checking.

Eventually, she found herself outside a door with a single guard on it. However, there were three presences in the Room: the guard’s, one she didn’t recognise, and Malef’s. Yes! It didn’t matter if this was the dining room or not. Malef was here, and there was a suitably small number of people with him. She couldn’t ask for a better opportunity.

As she prepared to distract the guard with a spell and slip through the door, it opened, and a servant—the presence in the Room she didn’t recognise—carrying a tray of used plates and food scraps came out.

Perfect! Felitïa hurried through while the door was still open.

Malef was standing by the dinner table, his chair pushed back behind him, and his hands flat on the table, supporting him while he leaned over it. His eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily.

Felitïa waited for the guard to close the door, then approached Malef, stopping when she reached the end of the table, about five or six feet away from him.

Malef continued to lean over the table, taking deep breaths, his eyes closed. Frustration and fear ebbed from him, as well as sadness and regret. As Felitïa watched, he made a fist and slammed it down on the table with a grunt. Then, with another grunt, he straightened up and wiped tears from his eyes. He proceeded to straighten his clothes, then went back to leaning on the table.

Felitïa took a few steps closer. What should she do now? Stay hidden and follow him around the Palace until he led her to Rudiger or Quilla, or until he did or said something that revealed their locations?

She could enter his mind, find what she wanted there.

No. She couldn’t just start invading people’s privacy that way. She might be the Will-Breaker, but she wasn’t going to be that kind of Will-Breaker.

In the Room, however, she found his tether and almost fell into it.

No!

She pulled herself out and took a few actual steps backwards. It seemed even thinking about entering someone’s head precipitated it happening. She needed to be more careful.

Maybe she could talk to him.

She watched him for a few more moments. Was that safe? Would he just give her away, call for the guards? Maybe, but following him around had its own problems. She had to take some sort of risk.

“Malef.”

Malef jumped, and stumbled backwards with a cry, colliding with his chair.

Felitïa put a finger to her lips as she adjusted the invisibility spell to allow Malef to see her.

He stared at her.

“Highness?” The door opened and the guard stepped in. “Are you all right?”

“I...uh…” Malef’s gaze moved from Felitïa to the guard, then back again.

Felitïa tapped her finger against her lips.

Malef stared at her a moment longer, then looked to the guard. “Yes, yes, fine. I just tripped over the chair is all. Clumsy me. Sorry to bother you.”

“No bother, your Highness.” The guard bowed, stepped back out of the room, and closed the door again.

Malef looked back to Felitïa, gaping. “Felitïa?”

She nodded.

“He...he couldn’t see you?”

She shook her head. “Please don’t give me away.”

“They’ll kill you if they find you.”

“I know, which is why I don’t want you to give me away.”

“I thought you were in Quorge.”

“As far as anybody you know knows, that’s exactly where I am.”

He nodded. “Right. How long have you been here?”

“In this room? Not long.”

He straightened himself up and shook his head. “No, I mean in the Palace.”

“Just since this morning.”

“I see.” He stood there and scratched his face. Uncertainty flowed from him. After a moment, he spread his arms. “I suppose we should…”

She shook her head. “You’re with Lidda Plavin, Malef. Engaged to her. Why the hell would I greet you warmly?”

He lowered his arms and sighed. “Yes, that’s fair. And it’s married actually, though I suppose word hasn’t reached you yet.”

Felitïa crossed her arms. “That’s even worse.”

“It wasn’t by choice—not by the time the marriage actually happened, at any rate.”

Felitïa glared at him. “There’s always a choice, Malef.”

He slunk back slightly. “Yes, so I’ve been told. If it helps, I regret...well, everything. I regret ever responding to Lidda’s affections.”

“Regret doesn’t mean much if you’re not doing anything to make amends.”

“But I am!”

“You are? Good. What?”

“I’m…”

“Yes?”

He lowered his head and turned back to the table. “I’m waiting for the right moment, but it’s long past. Now I can only…”

“Play along out of fear for your own life?”

He slammed his fist on the table, and turned back to face her. “No! There is nothing I can do.”

She stepped right up to him and stared up at him. “You’re married to her. You’re physically close to her all the time.”

He glared down at her. “And what good does that do?”

“You could kill her.”

He frowned and looked away. “I already told you. It’s too late.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“There you are, lover boy!” Lidda Plavin strode into the room. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Felitïa backed up a couple steps, while Malef turned his head to follow Lidda as she crossed the room.

Lidda pulled out the chair at the head of the table, and sat down. “Have you already eaten?”

“Yes,” Malef said. “A little.”

“And you didn’t wait for me? I suppose I ought to be a little offended.”

“I’m sorry. I wanted some time alone to think.”

Lidda gave a light laugh. “I suppose I should be even more offended. Tell me, what have you been thinking of?”

“Oh…” Malef glanced at Felitïa, who shook her head. “Nothing important.”

“Nothing important. I see. But it was important you be alone for that?”

Malef looked at her. “Sorry.”

Lidda shook her head and sighed. “You spend so much time avoiding me. You do the bare minimum for the act and then find somewhere private. I don’t really blame you, but Lidda will be pissed if you don’t get me pregnant before she returns.”

Wait. Lidda would be pissed?

Malef looked at Felitïa again, a sad, apologetic look on his face.

“What are you looking at?” Lidda said, leaning forward to look in the same direction as Malef.

Malef turned back to her again. “Sorry.”

Lidda—or whoever she was—scowled. “You can’t even look at me.” She motioned to the spot beside her. “You could at least sit down.”

“Yes, sorry.” Malef sat in the indicated chair.

“And quit it with the fucking apologies. You don’t really mean them.”

Malef sighed. “No, I suppose I don’t really.”

Lidda smiled and chuckled. “There. Some honesty at last.”

Malef chuckled as well, though no amusement flowed from him. His emotions at the moment were mostly fear, and he glanced again at Felitïa.

Once again—more firmly this time—Felitïa shook her head.

“What are you looking at?”

Malef looked back at the woman using the name Lidda. “Nothing. Really. I’m just…nervous.”

Lidda slammed her hands on the table and stood up. “Bullshit! You don’t like me, but you’ve never had a problem looking at me before. Making eye contact? Yeah, you can’t do that, but you also don’t need to look away.” She strode past Malef in Felitïa’s direction.

Felitïa quickly backed up and went around to the other side of the table, motioning to Malef to stop looking at her!

Lidda strode all the way to the wall beside the door. “Is there something over here? Something funny? Something wrong with the chandelier here?” She pinched out one of the candles in the wall chandelier. “There. This one’s out now. At least there’s a reason for you to look in this direction.”

Malef stood up and approached her. “I promise you, I’m just nervous. I uh…”

Lidda crossed her arms and glared at him. Felitïa couldn’t help feel it was a lot like how she must have looked just a short time earlier.

“What?” Lidda said. “Why are you so nervous?”

Malef gulped, and tried to put an arm around her, but she pulled away.

“What are you doing?”

“Sorry,” Malef said, then raised his hands, palms out. “And I mean that this time. I’m nervous because I’m trying to figure out how to bring up with you…”

“Go on, get to the point!”

“I was thinking maybe we should try to get you pregnant.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re repulsed by me.”

“I wouldn’t say that. I don’t like you much, true, but I was attracted to Lidda at one point, and you look exactly like her. I’m not...repulsed...by you.”

She stared at him disbelievingly.

“You’re right that Lidda will be pissed if we don’t at least try, and while I don’t like you much, I don’t hate you so much that I want what she would do to you to happen.”

She looked at him a bit longer. “Really?”

Malef nodded. “Really.” He put his arm around her again, and this time, she didn’t pull away.

“I guess I’m glad you’ve finally come round,” she said.

He pulled her close to him.

“Not here,” she said.

“No, of course not here, but surely a kiss wouldn’t hurt?”

“I suppose not.” She raised up on her toes, put her arms around him, and kissed him.

Felitïa sighed. This wasn’t exactly the sort of thing she wanted to watch, but at least he had calmed fake Lidda down.

Who the hell was she anyway?

A wide grin on her face, fake Lidda said, “Tonight?”

Malef nodded. “Tonight.”

Still grinning, Lidda ran a finger along his upper lip. “I do wish she hadn’t made you get rid of that magnificent moustache. I do like a good, prickly moustache, if you catch my meaning.”

“I can always start growing it back while she’s away.”

Lidda ran her hand over his cheek, then walked with a sway back towards the table. “Very tempting.” She glanced back at him. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”

Malef followed her back to the table. “I won’t be able to grow it back fully. It took years before.”

Lidda shrugged and leaned seductively on her chair. “That’s fine. Its appearance isn’t what I’m after.”

Malef reached his chair and grinned at her. “I’ll stop shaving immediately.” He glanced at Felitïa with a satisfied grin.

“You fucking did it again!”

Shit.

Throwing her chair aside, Lidda leapt onto and over the table, sending dishes, glasses, and silverware crashing. Felitïa turned to get away, but Lidda crashed into her, knocking her to floor. The spell collapsed immediately.

Pulling out a dagger from under her skirts, Lidda pressed down on Felitïa. “Who the fuck are you? No. Don’t tell me. You’re her, aren’t you?” She looked up suddenly. “Get out! Get the fuck out of here. Malef and I are just having some fun time. We’ll try to be quieter.”

“Apologies, your Majesty,” the guard said. A moment later, the door clicked closed again.

Felitïa tried to shove Lidda off her, but the woman was strong and held her fast.

“Oh yes, you are her! Stay back, Malef. The fucking Will-Breaker. I was raised to fear you, but I’ve heard from several people recently that you’re nowhere near as formidable as the stories make you out to be.”

Felitïa managed to twist round onto her back, and the fake Lidda slammed Felitïa’s shoulder against the floor. She held the dagger close to Felitïa’s face and grinned. There was fear coming from her, but it was being overshadowed by excitement.

“Lidda,” Malef said.

“I said, stay back, Malef. Lamaën said something weird happened at the audience earlier. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he saw something. It was you, wasn’t it?”

Felitïa stared at her.

The woman pretending to be Lidda Plavin held the dagger closer. “Not going to say anything?”

“Who are you?”

The woman grinned. “The woman who killed the Will-Breaker.”

Lust for the kill overpowered all the other emotions flowing from this person, as Felitïa stared into her pale blue eyes…

...and fell into the doppelganger’s head.