The walk through the old town had an entirely different air about it than Linthel at large. Guards still patrolled, but their presence felt routine, unnoticed. Some skilled gardeners had even managed the blooming of early spring flowers. They sprouted tentatively from planter boxes by the windows of hunched estates. Footpaths bore no ice, no snow, and the only sign of damage I saw was a single patched-over window.

Funny then, that here was where I drew the stares. More than one curtain swished as I walked by, alone, tall, and wearing clothes unbecoming of the elite. If only to spare the inevitable confrontation, I wished I’d asked for some sort of escort to the castle proper. It wasn’t a long walk, but if the pair of guards walking directly toward me were any indication, it’d be longer than it ought to.

Instead of talking, they stared first—and I seized the chance.

“Evening.” I nodded sharply. “I’m Marchioness Zarenna Miller, here to visit the castle on King Carvalon’s orders.”

“We’ll need to see proof of that, miss,” one started.

“Forgive us,” the other stammered. “Your dress is unusual—for the weather if nothing else.”

I jerked a thumb over one shoulder. “Talk to the gate guards; they can vouch for me.”

Of course I had the missive with me. But the information it contained was certainly not for their eyes. Most nobles would be validated by their entourage, or by appearance. Even the outer gate guards recognized me after a moment’s thought…

“It’s been dangerous lately, miss,” the first said in a reassuring voice. “We just want to ensure the inner city is safe for its residents and guests.”

Had I not been what I was, had I not the experience I did regarding the ebb and flow of emotions, I wouldn’t have noticed the attempt to push my buttons. Just a nudge. Just enough to make me furious at being questioned.

Damnit, not here. I shook my head and started to walk towards them, angling around in the street. The persistent one—without the stammer—narrowed his eyes, and I felt a surge of anger. The other one… I wasn’t sure.

Double damnit.

As I passed, Persistent grabbed my arm, and Stammers gawped.

“Ma’am, you’ll need to come with us.”

I blinked at him. “No.”

He pulled on my arm; it did not move. For a long, still moment, the three of us stood alone in the midday street in a sort of standoff. The few others out in the cold quickly moved away.

More anger, but not from Persistent. This time, Stammers was the source. Unfortunately, there were far too many witnesses and I couldn’t be sure who the demon was. Or that either of them were. But the hand grabbing me sure felt human, as did the paltry strength behind it.

“Marchioness Miller!”

The shout came from the direction of the castle, and it wasn’t a voice I recognized. The owner, however, sure seemed to recognize me. Unlike the city guards accosting me, this man wore fine armor. The kind that was probably too good to be used as decoration.

“She’s expect…” he trailed off when he saw the guard grabbing me. From behind, I’d probably shielded his entire body. “Unhand the marchioness this instant!”

Persistent obeyed, immediately releasing my arm.

“We-we’re sorry!” Stammers blabbered. “I just… I thought she was suspicious, d-dressed too lightly and alone. It’s my fault!”

The royal guard’s gaze fell on him, then softened.

Fuck.

“Even still,” the royal guard said, “we’ll need to report this to your superior.”

“S-surely, you should escort the marchioness first.”

“I don’t mind tagging along. I’m early anyway.” I pushed on the royal guard’s anger. Two could play at this game. 

The royal guard’s gaze hardened again, and he shook his head. “This is a serious offense. Both of you, follow me. Marchioness, my deepest apologies. You may continue on toward the castle, or you may follow along should you feel unsafe.”

Well crap. Way to go, Renna. I couldn’t just let him go to the guardhouse—too many people. And the imposter—if there was one—would surely have a way to avoid detection by aura sight, right? Then again, why wouldn’t Stammers want to go where there were more people to manipulate?

Technically, I was under no obligation to expose what was going on here. But another push at my emotions reminded me why I should anyway. This time, I was able to get a good look at all three of them. This time, but Stammers and Persistent flicked gazes to look at me.

“Not the reaction you expected?” I crossed my arms.

“W-what?” Stammers stammered, the picture of confused innocence.

How do you expose an Envy demon? I doubted Stammers was Avarice, after all.

“It’s quite alright,” I said with the most sincere tone I could muster. “Everyone has to start somewhere. I’m certain you’ll take this lesson to heart and be a little more observant next time.”

The answer? Be patronizing.

For just a moment, Stammers’s lips twitched. Then he bowed.

“I beg forgiveness, Marchioness. I’ll endeavor to learn my utmost.”

I waved a hand. “Oh, it’s alright. Not everyone’s cut out to be a guard.”

That did it. Stammers leapt at me—he didn’t change form, he just moved faster than any human could. Our fists met; mine won. The fake guardsman tumbled over backward and by the time he scrambled upright, the royal guard had drawn his sword. 

Persistent reached for his shakily, but before either could move, Stammers shimmered and disappeared. With aura sight, I could see him turn in the direction of the wall.

He made it two steps before I caught up to him. Stuck in human form, I had little in the way of weapons. However, I still had my fists.

Thwack!

He dropped, flickering, but only for a moment. Aura sight caught a wave of magic building, and before I could judge the consequences, my axe was in my hand. The stammering demon looked up, the axe came down, and hot blood sprayed down the street.

Someone screamed. Another shouted “demon!”

When I looked back over my shoulder, both the royal guard and Persistent were looking at me, mouths agape. The body that dropped to my feet was no doubt that of an envy demon. Gray and thin, he reminded me of Malich’s envy demon—the one who’d escaped back in Navanaea. He wasn’t of course, but the uncanny features marked him as kin. In my hand, the axe dissipated, flames licking up my arm before winking out.

I opened my mouth to say something, but all the different things I wanted to say crashed into each other and all that came out was an inelegant “Uhhhh.”

In fact, if I wasn’t trying to avoid looking at their faces, I would have missed how Persistent’s hand tightened around his weapon only after the demon died.

“Marchioness Zarenna…” the royal guard seemed to be nearly as lost for words as I’d been.

Deep breath, gather thoughts. Words not all at once. “I only attacked him when I was certain.” I forced a wide, toothy smile at Persistent. “He was a much better actor than you were.” I followed my words with a spike of anger.

This time, there was resistance. The royal guard, to his credit, kept an active stance. It was the only thing that saved him as Persistent swung faster than I could close the distance.

My instincts were right!

For once!

The royal guard blocked, the clang of metal on metal echoing down the street. Training could only compensate for so much against a demon, or so I thought. This demon shimmered as well, but the royal guard tracked his first step.

He struck low, and an inhuman scream cut the air as the half-invisible demon tumbled into a heap in the road. In a moment, he’d rolled upright, swiping with clawed fingers just out of reach of the royal guard. This envy demon hadn’t kept the guise; the guard uniform hung off him loosely in places, and not quite long enough in others. 

The royal guard blocked again as I circled around for an opening. This time, however, the demon staggered him and rushed forward. Out of time, I grabbed for anything, finding a bony shoulder and throwing it to the ground.

The royal guard shot me a thankful look before taking another swing, this time forcing the demon to block with a forearm. The enchanted blade bit in, hissing as it cut flesh. There was no follow-up from the demon, as the royal guard had bought me enough time to cut down with my axe.

Unlike the beheading I’d just done, this strike swept across the body. I probably put a bit too much force behind it, as the royal guard finally broke composure with wide eyes as the two halves of demon fell. His pristine armor caught a splash of dark blood.

“Are you even human?” he murmured.

I probably wasn’t supposed to hear that. It was definitely rhetorical besides. Perhaps I was just feeling capricious, but I responded in an equally quiet voice, “No, but I’m on your side.”

He swallowed and didn’t take his eyes off me.

Right. Loyalty to the king. “King Carvalon knows.”

“How can I believe that?”

“Ask him. Ask the Gelles Company. If it wouldn’t cause a panic I’d drop the human guise—I’m not two-faced like they are.” I gestured to the bodies. “Plus, I didn’t need to tell you.”

He leveled his gaze at me; I didn’t break off, simply lowering and dismissing my axe.

“It wasn’t hard to presume,” he replied after a tense moment, sheathing his sword. “I doubt I can stop you, and if you’re telling the truth I apologize for treating you perhaps worse than those two did, but would you mind waiting…” he trailed off, looking around. “Not here. Back by the gatehouse. If you’re telling the truth…”

I shrugged. “Buy me an ale and make sure I get a bath tonight and we’re even. Most people don’t have the common courtesy to at least apologize for their distrust.” I glanced at the street and winced. “I can incinerate them if you’d like. Only ash left.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to protest, but closed it when he looked around. Still watching me, he inspected the two bodies, removing tags from each of them, swearing both times. “Alright. Do it now then.”

I nodded and snapped my fingers. Crimson fire engulfed the bodies, burning them—and their very real guard uniforms to ash. I looked at what he was holding and my stomach lurched. Whoever these two were supposed to be… they’re dead or worse. “I’m sorry. I’ll wait by the gatehouse—and it’s alright if you take a while. Cold doesn’t bother me.”

The royal guard nodded solemnly and turned to walk away. He stopped, and called back over his shoulder, “Thank you, Marchioness.”

“Of course.”

***

The primary advantage of clothing made from magic is that you can’t stain, tear, or burn it. So I looked quite clean when the royal guard from earlier came to fetch me, ale in hand and demon blood still staining his front. I wondered if whoever he’d gotten it from had said anything.

I could have groused about having the ale somewhere warm and cozy, but that just felt petty. Instead, I greeted him with a smile. He apologized for making me wait, but there was a tightness behind his smile that made me think perhaps he’d been scolded for knowing what he knew.

We walked as I drank, and I wondered: Did I weaken the king’s leverage against me by pure happenstance? Keep it up, Renna, and they’ll think you’re a real noble.

I’d finished my large mug of ale by the time we arrived at the castle proper, and I grinned at the half chuckle I drew from the royal guard I’d semi-befriended. Even without a name, I tried to commit his face to memory.

With my escort, we were waved through, and I was immediately greeted by a dimly familiar maid. Mary reintroduced herself, and the woman barely older than my daughter led me inside.

“You’re to be present in the council chambers within one hour after the evening meal,” she said like she’d rehearsed as much. “Until then, and for the night tonight, you will be given the same chambers you had during your last stay.”

Evening meal? My mouth was watering already. “I don’t suppose there’s time for a long soak,” I asked hopefully.

“There is,” Mary replied. “Shall I refresh your memory regarding the enchanted fixtures?”

I shook my head, grinning like a madwoman. “No need. Trust me—I’ve not forgotten.”