I stared at Sylvie; the words she’d just spoken crawled their way into my brain, where they bounced around for a few moments before I could fully understand them.

“What…?” I said, dumbly.

“I am one of the leaders of the Children of Kendrik,” she repeated, matter-of-factly, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Seriously, Erica, you’re normally very perceptive, it’s a wonder you hadn’t found out before now.”

I just looked at her for a long time, probably a few minutes. Then I finally asked: “Since when?”

“Since I got hired to work here at the palace,” she replied. “In fact, I started working here specifically so I could act as an insider, supplying information to the other Children who are working outside.” She paused, then continued, “How do you think word of the raid at the warehouse in the riverside district got out? That was me. I read the tip you’d received, before slipping it under your door again.”

“…Of course,” I said, realisation dawning on me. “Andrej and I thought it must have been one of the Knights, since no one is allowed to enter their quarters, except for the Knights themselves…”

“…And the servants who have to clean them,” she concluded.

I nodded. “No one notices a maid.”

Sylvie nodded back. “I told you, didn’t I? For most people, we’re just furniture. But being able to blend in without effort has its advantages.”

Again, I was silent. This changed everything: even though the Prince Regent was sure to be watching Sylvie too, though not as closely as he was watching me, with her contacts and resources – and a bit of luck – we could probably put a plan into action; all I needed to do was actually think of a plan, but I was sure I could do that.

But first, there must something I had to know.

“Who is the steel-eyed old man?” I asked.

“Who?” she answered.

“The one who talked to me in the street… Two months ago, I think. Or about that. And who attacked us when we were on the balcony, on Founding Day.”

Sylvie’s lips drew back into a smile. “That’s what you call him?” she asked, amusement clear in her voice. “I wont’t tell you who exactly he is, because I don’t want you to be able to identify him if worse comes to worst.”

“Fair,” I replied.

“But yes,” she continued, “he is one of the Children. And you can’t really call that an attack, you weren’t even injured.”

“About that, why rotten cabbages?” I wondered. “Why not something more deadly? You could’ve easily loaded the catapult with… Stones, or something sharp like knives, or whatever. Why didn’t you grab the chance to take out Izaak then and there?”

“It was because of you,” Sylvie said.

I blinked. “Because of me?”

“Yes, because of you,” she nodded. “Because you and Andrej were there on the balcony, too: we didn’t want either of you to be injured, or worse, if we could help it. As soon as you told me Izaak had ordered you two to stand with him I got the word out, and our people on the outside changed the plan from an actual assassination attempt to one that was just meant to humiliate.” She sighed. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry; it was because of the attack that you…”

She drifted off, but I understood what she meant; I shook my head. “Don’t be,” I replied. “I wasn’t injured, and Izaak would have had Verdun complete the change eventually. What happened is not your fault.”

She seemed relieved, as if I’d absolved her of a deadly sin. “Thank you,” she said.

I smiled back at her. “Alright then,” I said. “Let’s go to sleep, it’s already very late; tomorrow we’ll think of a plan with a clearer mind.”

Three days later, we put our plan into action; seven days after that – the longest wait I’d experienced in my life – I came back to my room in the evening after work, and found a small packet under my pillow, wrapped in paper and sealed with wax. I broke the seal and looked inside: everything seemed to be in order.

And not a moment too soon. A knock at the door announced the arrival of Andrej, who’d come to tell me that the Prince Regent had requested my presence in his bedchambers. I nodded, slipped the packet’s contents into my pocket – a maid’s dress has plenty of them, and Izaak had stopped requesting I wear my fancy dress a couple weeks prior – and followed the Commander to the royal chambers, where the usual scene took place: he relieved the Royal Knight who was standing guard at Prince Izaak’s door, and let me go inside on my own. Then, of course, Izaak was supposed to have his way with me, and I would be escorted back to my quarters by Andrej.

But this time would be different.

Once I was inside the antechamber, I made some preparations and then, as I always did, I knocked on the bedroom’s door, and waited until Izaak’s voice told me I could enter.

The Prince Regent was reclining lazily on the bed, wearing only a pair of velvet trousers. “Ah, Erica, welcome,” he said, eyeing me hungrily. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

I gulped, and nodded. “My lord,” I said, curtsying. Then I walked over to the small table that was standing in the corner of the room, and filled two goblets with wine – one for him, and one for me.

Izaak seemed puzzled. “What are you doing?” he asked. “Usually I’m the one who pours the wine.”

I paused, thinking of how to put it. “You seem tired today, my lord, so I thought I’d do it this time,” I replied, walking over to the bed and offering him one of the goblets.

He propped himself up to a sitting position and eyed me suspiciously. Even though he thought he’d broken me completely, his guard was still up. He took the cup from me and sniffed its contents.

“It’s just wine, my lord,” I said.

He kept on staring at me. “You drink first,” he said. I went to take a sip from my goblet, but he held up his hand: “Drink from mine.”

I nodded, took the goblet back from him, and took a deep gulp of the dark red wine, then handed the cup back to him.

He was still looking at me, though his eyes betrayed that he wasn’t as suspicious any more. “Good,” he said, and drained the goblet. “Well then, shall we begin for tonight?” he asked.

I nodded again, set my cup – which was still full – on a table, and removed my clothes. His eyes lit up, filled with lust.

“On the bed,” he ordered, slipping off his trousers. After I’d positioned myself as I usually did, he climbed on top of me, moving into position and getting ready to penetrate me.

But that time was different.

Just as he was about to enter me, his eyes clouded up; “Wha--” he said, as he looked around the room in a half daze, and then collapsed on top of me.

Then he began snoring softly.

I poked his cheek with my finger; then I gave him a few light slaps, and called his name a few times. No response: he was out cold.

Just as planned, the sleeping drug I’d slipped into his goblet – courtesy of Mig Bac’s apothecary – had taken effect. Izaak would sleep until morning.

Obtaining the drug had been difficult: Sylvie and I were sure Izaak’s agents were watching us both (me because I was, well, me, and Sylvie because she was my roommate), so we couldn’t go directly to the apothecary; therefore, we took a roundabout route.

Sylvie talked to Therese, and explained the situation; Therese, in turn, spoke with Georg, the cook. Georg, on one of his outings into town, talked with his friend Adrian at the market, and Adrian paid a visit to Ariel. Ariel took Fergus aside when she next saw him, and Fergus went to Mig Bac’s apothecary, paid him five silvers – the cost of the drug – and told him to give it to a certain person when he would next come by, along with a message.

That certain person was Tomàs. He was the key to our plan: we knew he bought the ointment he used on his bruises from Mig Bac, so Sylvie sneaked into his room and stole the jar, so that Tomàs would be forced to buy more. And when he did, the apothecary gave him the small packet and the message: Tomàs understood, and when he returned to the palace he slipped the packet under my pillow.

Before putting our plan into action, though, I made Sylvie swear she would procure only a sleeping draught, and not a poison; otherwise, I wouldn’t go along with it – I was still bound by my oath, which forbid me to harm my liege lord. But drugging him? That was a different matter entirely, he would come to no harm if I just left him sleeping in his bed until the next morning.

I’d been a bit nervous when Izaak had ordered me to drink from his goblet, but I’d made a plan for that, too: at the same time as I drank the wine I also swallowed a tiny pill that I’d hidden in the back of my mouth, behind my wisdom teeth; that was a stimulant, which I’d often used before my change while on guard duty at night to avoid falling asleep, and which counteracted the effect of the sleeping powder I’d put in the wine.

And, just to be sure, I’d slipped the narcotic in both goblets: this way, had Izaak chosen to drink from mine instead of his, he still would’ve been drugged. The only losing situation would have been if he’d chosen not to drink at all, and I mentally thanked the gods it hadn’t come to that.

I carefully but firmly pushed Izaak’s inert form off me; he flopped over on his back on the bed with barely a grunt, and resumed snoring almost immediately. I slipped out of bed, gathered my clothes and quickly got dressed.

Alright, the easy part was done with; now comes the hard part.

I left Izaak’s bedroom, quickly crossed his antechamber and, after taking a deep breath, pulled open the door that separated me from the corridor, where Andrej was standing guard.

He glanced at me as the door opened, but didn’t look at my face – he hadn’t met my eyes at all ever since the first night he’d brought me to Izaak’s bedchambers. He started to walk away, towards the servants’ wing, like he always did, and I knew he expected me to follow him

“Get in here,” I hissed instead.

Andrej froze. After a few moments he turned around. “What?” he asked.

“I said get in here, Commander,” I repeated, still keeping my voice low, and glancing left and right along the corridor to see if someone was coming along.

“I can’t,” he replied. “I have to get permission from a member of the royal family if I’m to enter the royal chambers.”

“Well, I’m giving you permission,” I rebutted. “So get in already!”

He blinked. “But you’re not--”

I thought he might object, so I already had a counter-argument ready. “I’m not what? A noble? In line for the throne? That’s right, Izaak stripped me of those,” I admitted, nodding. “But what he can’t do is deprive me of my bloodline. Was not my great-grandfather brother to King Dominik the Second? Am I not still a descendant of King Dominik the First? Am I not still cousin to Prince Regent Izaak?” I took a deep breath. “I damn well am still a member of the royal family of Harburg, and as such I’m giving you permission to enter the royal chambers. Get a move on, Andrej!”

He hesitated for a moment, but then – for the first time in over a month – he looked at me in the eyes; I guess what he saw in them convinced him, because he hurried into the antechamber, and I shut the door behind us.

“What’s happening?” he asked. “Where’s the prince?”

“Asleep in the other room,” I replied, moving quickly to the fireplace. “I gave him a sleeping draught, he’ll be out until morning.”

“You did what?” he exclaimed. “Erica, what in the hell is going on?”

I ignored him, and ran my hand across the seam where the fireplace met the wall. “It should be… Yeah, here it is,” I muttered, moving a loose brick aside. I put my hand into the resulting hole, felt for the iron handle I knew would be there, and pulled. I was rewarded with a muffled clunking sound as a mechanism moved into place.

“Give me a hand here, this thing is heavy,” I said, and grabbed one of the sides of the hearth. Wordlessly, Andrej grabbed the other side, and on my signal, we pulled; the whole fireplace moved a few inches back, and then swung aside on invisible hinges, revealing a dark, narrow passage behind it.

“What…?” Andrej said.

“You didn’t know this was here, did you?” I answered with a smirk. “There are passages like this all through the royal quarters, connecting each and every room, and a few even extend to the noble wing, but they’re a closely guarded secret,” I explained. “Not even the Royal Knights know of their existence; I was aware of them only because I’m a member of the royal family.”

I grabbed a lit candle from a table and entered the passage, Andrej trailing closely behind me. “Erica, where are we going?” he asked.

“I’m sorry for not telling you about our plan earlier, Andrej,” I said. “But I was afraid Izaak would pry it out of you somehow, so we thought we’d better keep you in the dark until the very last moment.”

“Who’s we?” he demanded.

“Sylvie and I. We gave it some thought – a lot of thought actually – and realised something,” I replied, walking along the narrow corridor. “All this time, you and I obeyed Izaak’s orders because he’s the Prince Regent; he’s standing in for King Dominik, and he’s exerting the king’s authority. Here, hold this.” I came to a stop, and handed Andrej the candle. Again I ran my hands over the wall, found the hidden release, and pulled it.

“But even though Izaak is acting in the king’s stead, he is not the king himself, is he now?” I concluded.

I put my shoulder against the wall, planted my feet, and pushed; the wall swung aside, revealing a bedroom – much larger than Izaak’s, it had to be at least sixty feet across. A few lit candles were placed around the room, but mostly it was illuminated by the light of the full moon, filtering through the tall windows. Halfway between us and the far wall, opposite the windows, was a big bed: I could see a man lying in it, fast asleep, bathed by the moonlight.

Dominik the Third. King of Harburg, and Izaak’s father.

Andrej was silent, but from his sharp intake of breath I could tell he’d understood my intentions: we would explain the situation to King Dominik, and… Well, that part of the plan was still up in the air. Everything hinged on whether the king would believe us, and what his reaction would be. I just hoped he wouldn’t stand behind his son no matter what, otherwise we were doomed.

Slowly and carefully we started to cross the room towards the king’s bed; the air was heavy and dusty, and smelled faintly of camphor and medicine. As we came closer, I saw that he looked very different since I’d last seen him, many months before: his illness had clearly taken a toll on him. He’d always been very spry for his age, full of life, but now he was very thin, his eyes sunken in, and his hair, once raven-black, had turned white around the roots. I felt sad that I couldn’t have been with him recently, since besides being my king and liege, he was also my relative, and foster father.

We’d almost made it to the king’s bedside, when we heard a creaking noise behind us; Andrej and I spun around and saw a figure silhouetted by light in a door.

“My lord? I thought I heard a noise,” said Healer Gallowan’s voice. “Is everything…”

He stopped talking when he spotted the two of us standing in the middle of the room; he glanced at the secret door in the wall, which we’d left wide open, and I could see he understood the situation.

Oh, gods. If he screamed, we’d be done for: the palace guards, and even some Royal Knights, would be swarming us almost immediately.

We stared at each other for a couple seconds, then I broke the silence. “Healer Gallowan--” I began, but he interrupted me by raising his hand.

“Do you intend to do the king harm?” he asked.

Andrej and I exchanged glances. “No, we don’t,” I replied.

“Do you swear it?”

“I swear, on my honour,” I said; Andrej echoed me almost immediately.

Gallowan nodded. “Then you were never here. Take your time, I will keep everyone else out; though do tell me when you leave.”

I let out the breath I hadn’t realised I was holding. “Thank you, Healer Gallowan,” I said.

“Of course,” he answered. He retreated back through the door he’d entered from and shut it behind him.

Andrej and I were silent for a few moments, then I whispered, “Let’s get a move on, we don’t know how much time we have.”

Andrej nodded, and together we moved to the king’s bedside. We knelt by the bed and looked down on him for a moment, then shook him. “King Dominik?” I called. “Your highness? Wake up, please.”

It took a few minutes of gentle shaking to awaken the king; we didn’t dare move him too roughly, lest we hurt him. But finally he opened his eyes, and blearily looked up at us, his gaze resting on Andrej’s face.

“Vice-commander Andrej?” he asked; his voice was frail and weak as he was. “What are you doing here? What is happening?”

Then his eyes moved from Andrej to me, and he gasped. “Helena?” he said, his eyes widening as he looked at me. “What…?”

I hesitated; I didn’t know what to say. He clearly thought I was my mother: should I go along with it? Or deny it outright?

King Dominik didn’t give me time to decide, however; old and sick as he might be, his mind was still sharp. “No,” he said. “Helena is dead. Who are you?”

I gulped. “I’m Herik, my lord,” I replied. “Herik von Harburg.” I hadn’t used that name in so long, it sounded alien to me.

“Herik?” The king’s eyes narrowed in suspicion; it was clear that he didn’t believe me. “I don’t know who you are, or what you’re trying to do, coming here in the dead of the night made up to look like Helena, but I’m not going to stand for it. Guards!” he called. However, his voice was weak and soft; Andrej and I could just barely make out his words, there was no way anyone else could hear him.

“No, my lord,” Andrej said. “It is true, she really is Herik.”

King Dominik shook his head weakly. “You won’t deceive me. Guards!” he called again.

I just looked at him. He looked so pitiful laying there, so very different from the strong, loving man I remembered him as. He wasn’t going to believe us without proof, and I knew what to say to make him believe me.

“Andrej, please step away,” I said. “Go stand under the windows, and cover your ears; don’t come back until I tell you.” He looked at me, puzzled, but I nodded, and he complied.

I looked straight at King Dominik, grabbed his hand, and began speaking softly, so my friend would not hear what I was saying.

“My mother died when I was six. I spent days wandering the palace in a daze, trying to cope with the loss; and then I sought you out,” I said. The king had been looking at Andrej, who was standing well away from us, but he turned his eyes on me when I spoke. “I found you here, in your bedchambers. You’d locked yourself in, sent everyone away, gave strict orders that no one was to disturb you, but I didn’t heed them and sneaked in, past the Royal Knight that was guarding the door, using the secret passage that is known only to the royal family.”

I paused, biting my lip. I hated doing this, but I had to continue. “You were sitting on the bed, crying. You were startled when you saw me, but then you embraced me, and we wept together, for a long time. We wept for the death of my mother.” Another pause. “And then you made me swear an oath, the very first oath I’d ever sworn in my life, an oath I’ve kept for nineteen years: I was to tell no one. No one must know you’d cried for my mother. No one must know the words you said while you cried.”

I took a deep breath.

“No one must know how much you loved her.”

The king’s eyes widened; his mouth dropped open in surprise. “He… Herik?” he asked. I nodded, and motioned to Andrej, who joined us again at the king’s bedside.

“Herik,” the king repeated, lifting his hand and placing it on my cheek. “Herik. My child, what have they done to you? Who is responsible for this?”

I gulped; but there was no easy way to say it. “It was… It was Izaak, my lord. He framed me for a crime, and used that to strip me of my rank as Commander of the Royal Knights and have Verdun change me into the form you see now.”

“It was Izaak…?” King Dominik said. He looked deep into my eyes, then shifted his gaze to Andrej, and back to me again, as we both explained and recounted everything that had transpired, ever since the failed raid on the warehouse in the riverside district; his mood became sombre – even more so than it had been before – when he realised we were telling the truth.

“So it is,” he said. “I was afraid he would do something terrible sooner or later.”

My eyebrows rose in surprise; I hadn’t expected him to be so easy to convince, I thought he would protest at least a bit. “You were?” I asked.

The king nodded. “I’m his father. I know how he is, I watched him as he was growing up… And what I saw worried me.” He sighed. “He was always too ambitious and self-centred for his own good; people like him do not make good rulers. I was planning to disinherit him before long, but then I fell ill.”

“Izaak had the council of nobles name him Prince Regent,” Andrej said.

“I know,” the king replied. “And now he controls the country.”

“We have to do something, my lord,” I said. “Because of his mismanagement, the poor people are going hungry. Discontent is growing, and I fear a revolt may be brewing.”

“Without mentioning what he did to Eri-- Herik,” Andrej continued. “We have to stop him, somehow.”

King Dominik sighed again. “There is nothing I can do.”

“Nothing? Nothing at all?” Andrej asked.

“No, I’m sorry,” the king replied, shaking his head. “I am not long for this world; I no longer have the strength to lift myself from this bed. And besides Healer Gallowan, who tends to me in my illness, it has been months since I last saw someone – which I realise now is likely also my son’s doing. Even if I were to somehow go before the council of nobles, to denounce Izaak… They’d just dismiss me as a crazy old man.”

“Couldn’t you ask the people of this country, the common people, to rise up, and take that power away from the prince?” Andrej said. I glanced at him – the suggestion was almost unthinkable: remove power from the ruler by force? And override the council of nobles?

“How could I?” the king replied. “I am unable to go to them myself, and no one would believe an emissary of mine.”

He paused, as if he was deep in thought. “No, there is something I can do.” Weakly, he beckoned towards me with his hand. “Come closer, my child. And you too, Vice-commander. Help me sit up.”

We carefully propped him to a half-sitting position, his body supported by cushions, and then crouched closer to the bed; King Dominik placed a hand on both our shoulders.

“Herik von Harburg. Andrej d’Edel. As your liege, I release you from your oath as Royal Knights,” he said, his voice clear, though frail. “And you, Herik; you, I name my sole heir, who will inherit the throne upon my death.”

I felt him weakly grip my shoulder.

“Stop Izaak. Save this country.”

Andrej and I both nodded. “We will do our best, my lord,” I said.

The king smiled weakly at us; his arms dropped down, whatever little strength he’d had left exhausted. “Now go, before someone finds you here.”

We complied; after telling Gallowan that we were leaving, we made our way back through the passage to Izaak’s antechamber, shutting the secret doors behind us; and then Andrej escorted me back to my room – we agreed that it would be best if we behaved as before for the time being, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, to avoid arousing any suspicion.

Sylvie bombarded me with questions once we’d been left alone, and I explained everything that had transpired; then we snuffed out the candle, lay down in our beds, and tried to sleep.

I found I couldn’t, however. My mind was fixated on one question.

I had managed to get my freedom back; what was I going to do with it?