It's been a long time since I last stood here, waiting outside the door of the king’s study. Not much has changed, except there are now more guards waiting in the corridor with me. When I first visited this room, I thought those guards were there to protect the king from me. After two months in this world, I am beginning to believe they are there to hide the king from everyone else.   

  

The door opens and the attendant who led me here steps out.   

  

‘The king will see you now.’ I enter the room, Sebastian following close behind. It looks the same as before, however this time the desk Rakan used to sit at is missing. Over the past two months, I had forgotten that Rakan used to spend time here. In the original webcomic, although no members of the Venvaris family were what you would call close, Rakan was keen to earn his father’s approval and affection. Now, it seems that is not the case. Rakan spends most of his time in the library with me. Sometimes he even visits my drawing room (not as often I think because I have banned Lord Aster from joining him) to share afternoon tea with me and Evangeline. Without Rakan’s old desk, the king’s study looks strangely empty.  

  

The king himself is sitting behind his own desk, the midday sun glaring in through the large window behind him and casting his face in shadow. It makes it hard for me to be sure of his expression, but the tension in the room leads me to believe this won’t be a fun catch-up.   

  

‘I asked only for Lyra.’ The king addresses the question that is not a question but a statement to his attendant, who looks flustered and begins to stutter over his words.   

  

‘I insisted, your majesty. It is unreasonable to expect a member of the royal family to be without their personal attendant.’ I watch as the king looks at me, then looks at Sebastian. It seems the king is satisfied with Sebastian's unimportance as he sighs and dismisses his own attendant with a flick of his hand. He waves to the seat opposite him on the other side of his desk.  

  

‘Sit.’ The king orders.  

  

‘I would prefer to stand, your majesty.’ He glares at me.  

  

‘I would prefer it if you sat down.’   

  

‘As I said, I would prefer to stand.’ I do not look away from the king, refusing to show any signs of weakness. The king gets up from his chair, walls around his desk, and picks up the other chair, moving it to face me.  

  

‘Sit.’ He says the word with excessive force. I raise my chin.  

  

‘No.’  

  

‘Why must you be such an obstinate brat!’ He picks up the chair again and slams it down. ‘You will not even sit when I tell you, ungrateful brat!’  

  

‘No, I will not even sit when you tell me to.’ I square my shoulders. It is most likely not wise to rile up the king in such a manner, but he is not as powerful as Prince Hayden, and he only responds to these kinds of interactions. I have tried letters. I tried to reason with him many times the weeks before the ball on why Duke Virfain is a better ally, and talk about the issues a marriage with Giddeon may dredge up. He did not respond. The only time I got a response was after I made a scene at the ball. Then he sent a letter, ordering me to not cause any more controversy and marry Giddeon.   

  

‘I have tried to reason with you, your majesty, and you will not listen. I will not marry Duke Rasiel.’ I am expecting this interaction to go how every interaction I have with the king has gone. He will shout, I will refuse, and nothing will come of it. But this time, rather than raising his voice, the king sighs. He walks back round to his chair, takes a seat, and even smiles.  

  

‘You are different, Lyra.’ My heart begins to beat fast the way it does whenever anyone mentions my difference. I know I am different; I know I am not Lyra. It would be ridiculous for people to not have noticed by now. But still, I feel like a liar, and I hate feeling like a liar.   

  

‘You are right, you will not do what I tell you. So, I have chosen a different method.’ The king reaches into a drawer in his desk, retrieves a letter, and hands it to me. I’m confused, but I take it. ‘Read it.’  

  

I unfold the letter and begin reading. As soon as I read the first line my heart stops. To Your Highness Prince Rakan, it pleases the Petteras family that your highness has chosen to accept the royal dowry that has been offered… I don’t read the rest of the letter. I can’t. The tears are sudden, and my vision becomes blurry. It has always annoyed me that I cry when angry, but it has never annoyed me more than it does at this very moment. But I don’t know what to do. A sudden feeling of hopelessness engulfs me.  

  

‘You will marry Duke Rasiel. If you do not, I will have your brother marry Duke Petteras from the south.’ I open my mouth to speak but no words come out. ‘You are not the only child worth an army.’ This time I frown.  

  

‘The south doesn’t have an army…’  

  

‘Read the letter, Lyra.’ I skim through the letter again. Not an army, but a large sum of gold. My knowledge of currency and how the economy works in this world is limited, but I would imagine this is enough to buy an army. The king is quite literally going to sell Rakan for a pot of gold. Anger rushes through me and I feel my face burning.   

  

‘You can’t do this.’ I don’t look at the king as I speak, instead looking at the letter in disbelief.   

  

‘I can and I will.’ I shake my head.   

  

‘But you can’t...’  

  

‘I already have!’ The king slams his fist on the table. I nearly jump out of my skin. The noise reverberates around the room as we are both silent for a few seconds. ‘Your own selfishness has blinded you to the fact that you are not the only royal worthy of a dowry.’ The king is angry now as well. His face flushes red and I can see him trying to control himself, trying not to yell.   

  

‘While you act like a child, Duke Rasiel is busy sniffing at the shirts of a bastard child with no title.’ As he says this, my whole body freezes. He is talking about Evangeline. There is no way he could be talking about anyone else. Giddeon has already made good on his threat. Either he has spoken to the king about his wondering interests, or the king has seen him making advances. Either way, King Baldwin is worried. The king needs this army. He is desperate for it. Why?  

  

‘You are a princess, Lyra. There is more at stake than simply your feelings where this engagement is involved. It is your duty to bring a dowry to this family that will benefit the kingdom, and as your king and your father it is my right to decide what that dowry should be.’   

  

‘You have never been a father to h...me.’ I almost say her in my anger, almost giving myself away.   

  

‘But I am your father!’ The king slams his fist again.  

  

‘I also do not see how this dowry is beneficial to the kingdom. We are not at war…’ But I am cut off by something that sounds like a growl.  

  

‘It is not for you to know!’ The king rises out of his chair. ‘I am your father and your king, and you will do as I say.’ I take a few moments to calm myself, squaring my shoulders and breathing slowly to get rid of the angry tears.  

  

‘No.’ The king glares at me, his face turning redder, his eyes looking like they are about to pop out of his skull.   

  

‘You will do through with this marriage or I shall make your brother do it.’ I shake my head.   

  

‘No.’  

  

‘If you love your brother, you will do as I command!’ The king yells these words, spittle flying from his lips as he does.   

  

‘I will not let you marry either of us off.’ As I say the words, the king loses it. He sweeps his hands across his desk. Papers, cups, plates, books, pens, and paperweights fly everywhere. The sound is horrendous, the sound of things dropping and smashing and the king growling in his frustration is terrifying.   

  

‘You are a selfish whore!’ His voice is louder than I have ever heard it. ‘You are a whore just like your mother!’ The words sting. Somewhere inside I can feel Lyra stirring, the way I sometimes do. She stirs and my heart constricts.   

  

The door opens and two guards rush into the room. They both look at me, expecting it to be me that is causing the noise, and then they both look at the king. Perhaps Lyra being a violent child prone to tantrums has hidden the fact that her father has the same temperament. It seems clear who Lyra takes after, and unfair of people to hold Lyra, a child, to higher standards than they hold her father to. The guards watch the king, unsure of how to act. They can manhandle me at the orders of the king. No one can order the manhandling of the king, not even Crown Prince Hayden.   

  

‘You will do as I command! You will marry Duke Rasiel!’ I shake my head again.   

  

‘I will not.’  

  

‘Then your brother shall be sold to the south!’  

  

‘He will not.’  

  

‘YOU WILL DO AS I COMMAND!’ He bellows the words with so much aggression that the tears are automatic. I am now terrified. But I don’t back down.   

  

‘You cannot sell your children for an army.’  

  

‘You are my children! I shall do with you as I please! I will not be taught politics by the daughter of a whore!’ The king marches back around his desk, stomping his feet as he does, charging at me. I am frozen in place and cannot move, and for a few moments, I am convinced that Lyra is about to be hit. I do not know how much damage an angry man with such large fists can inflict, but I imagine a lot. But the violence never reaches me. Before the king can touch me, Sebastian steps in between us. The hand raised at me instead hits Sebastian, and his neck whips around with such force that I am convinced it is broken. Before I can take a second to register what has happened, another hand is raised, and this time it reaches me. The pain spreads across my face. I can taste blood, but I don’t know where it’s coming from.   

  

‘Princess Lyra, this way.’ What happens next is a blur. There are hands at my back, urging me out of the room. I am panicking. I am in pain, I can’t see Sebastian, I don’t know if he is okay, and I’m not sure what is going on. Within seconds, I am out in the corridor. I can hear the king still yelling.   

  

‘Two days! You have two days! If you are not back in this room on your knees...’   

  

But I do not stay to hear the rest. Sebastian takes me by the arm and we both leave.   

  

*  

It is just me and Sebastian sitting in my drawing room. Thankfully, it was empty when we returned, and I haven’t called for anyone since we got back. I’m still in shock. My hands are shaking and I can’t control my breathing.   

  

‘Your highness, sit here.’ Sebastian takes my arm and guides me to a chair. I sit down and hear him as he rifles through draws and pulls up a chair beside me. ‘This will likely hurt.’ And then he places a wet cloth against my face. He’s right. It stings like a bitch.   

  

‘Sebastian, your face...!’ As my eyes focus and I come back into the room, I brush Sebastian’s hand aside. His nose is bleeding, his lip is split, and there is a large bruise across his cheek and jaw. When I see the damage, I can’t help myself. The tears come on their own. They come thick and fast. I take Sebastian’s hand, and after a few moments, he puts down the cloth and, cautiously, allows me to hug him.   

  

‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!’  

  

It seems like today is the day I pay for all my bad choices. I should’ve known this would happen. I pushed the king on purpose. He was angry, and I knew he was angry, and I didn’t care. Not only did I anger the crown prince, not only was Evangeline threatened by Giddeon, but the king has also now assaulted Sebastian due to my actions. This is my fault. I am being too reckless. There are too many variables. Normally, in stories like this, the protagonist has the edge because they know the future. They can plan for things other people don’t even know will happen. And normally I would blame the author. There’s not enough info in the original story. There’s no way for me to know that these things will happen. But at some point, I must start holding myself accountable. Because it’s me who keeps running into these situations like a bull in a China shop, and before I’m done, I’ll have smashed everything, and no one will escape unscathed.   

  

I pull back and take the cloth from Sebastian’s hand. There is a small bowl of water in his lap. I dip the cloth in the bowl, ring it out, and begin to dab at his lip.   

  

‘I’m sorry, Sebastian.’   

  

‘Your highness, you don’t...’ He reaches up his hands but I stop him.   

  

‘Please, just let me wipe away the blood.’ Sebastian’s hands fall into his lap.   

  

‘You are also bleeding, your highness.’ He’s right. I can taste the blood on my lips. But right now, it’s Sebastian’s face I can see and not my own, and my guilt tastes more bitter than the blood.   

  

‘I’m so sorry, Sebastian.’ I whisper the words. ‘I did this.’ Sebastian shakes his head.  

  

‘No, your highness, this isn’t your fault.’ I dip the cloth back into the bowl and it is immediately stained red.   

  

‘Yes, I did. I’ve been reckless, too reckless.’ Sebastian shakes his head.   

  

‘Just as you will not let Prince Rakan be sold to the south, I will not let you be sold to the west, your highness.’ He takes the cloth from my hand and uses it to once again clean my face. ‘I would not send my own sister, and I will not send you.’ He pauses for a few moments, and I feel my tears begin again. Seeing him like this, his face bruised, his lip split, an old memory of Lyra’s resurfaces. Many weeks ago, I asked Sebastian if Lyra had hurt anyone else. Sebastian told me no, she hadn’t. He lied. I remember. Lyra hurt Sebastian.  

  

‘Why would you lie to me?’ And I am crying again. Having memories that aren’t yours is exhausting. Having memories of violence, violence you would never consider but your body has committed, is torturous. ‘I hurt you! I hurt you just like this!’ Sebastian shakes his head.  

  

‘Your highness has never hurt me like this.’ Technically, he is right. What Lyra did was not as serious, and there was no blood. But she still hurt him. I hurt him.  

  

‘But I still hurt you.’ Sebastian puts the cloth down and takes my hand.  

  

‘Your highness, I am not trying to be pedantic, or technical. If I may be so bold...’ He stops, as if unsure of what to say, or how to say it. ‘You are different. I know this most of all.’ He stops again, sighs, then meets my gaze. ‘I have served Princess Lyra for nineteen years. But I have watched you for these past two months. You are a good person, your highness, your intentions are good. I know you.’  

  

My heart stops. But this time there is no tightening in the chest, no heavy feeling like I am drowning, no dread. Suddenly, I feel free.   

  

‘Sebastian...’  

  

‘How could you!’ Before I can get my words out, the door to my drawing room slams open. The noise is terrifyingly loud, and I jump, spilling the bowl of water all over the floor. There is the sound of loud footsteps and I turn to see Lord Aster marching into the room. His face is a blaze of terrifying fury, and it distorts his features, making him almost unrecognisable.   

  

‘Lord Aster...’  

  

‘How could you do this to him!?’ He yells the question. He is so close to me within seconds that the words ring in my ears, making me realise I have a headache.   

  

‘Lord Aster, please,’ I get out of my seat, raising my hands to calm him down, ‘please, calm down.’  

  

‘It seems your selfishness knows no bounds, selling your own brother to save your own skin!’ I realise why he is here, and as the realisation dawns on me, my face hardens into a stone mask.   

  

‘Lord Aster, I will have to ask you to leave.’ He either doesn’t hear me or he ignores me. Instead of leaving, he begins pacing around my drawing room. Sebastian moves to rise from where he is sitting but I place my hand on his shoulder, stopping him. ‘No, Sebastian, I don’t want you getting hurt again.’  

  

‘Your highness...’ I turn to Sebastian and smile.   

  

‘Please, I can’t take it again.’ Sebastian remains seated. I turn back to Lord Aster who is still pacing, muttering to himself. ‘Lord Aster, please leave.’   

  

‘And then what happens?’ He turns on me with such speed and aggression I automatically take a step backward. ‘You force your father to sell off your brother to the southern duke?’ It is almost impossible to contain my anger as he says these words. I do not like this man. I do not need to sit here and listen to him as he says this.   

  

‘Lord Aster, this has nothing to do with you. Leave.’ Lord Aster laughs, actually laughs at me, although it is humourless.   

  

‘I will not be dismissed. I will not allow you to sell Prince Rakan like he is livestock.’   

  

‘But you will allow the king to sell me?’ Lord Aster stares at me. His eyes, normally green, are dark. The pupils are extremely dilated, robbing his eyes of most of their colour.   

  

‘I will not let you do this.’  

  

‘And what is it, exactly, you think I am doing?’ There is a moment of silence as Lord Aster stares me down.   

  

‘I know you know. Perhaps this solves two problems for your highness. You are free to marry whom you please, and Prince Rakan marries a woman.’ I am so shocked by Lord Aster’s words that I am for a moment speechless.   

  

‘What...?’  

  

‘I know you don’t like me, your highness. You will not let me see him; you monopolise his time with your afternoon tea parties with that woman. Do you fill his head with the virtues of a traditional wedding? Do you force him to sit with her and talk to her? I don’t know where this sudden interest in his life has come from, but I suspect it is to threaten him with his weakness in this way.’ He leans in close to my face. ‘And I will not let you.’   

  

The laughter that escapes my lips is so sudden I can’t stop it. It’s just that this is so unexpected, so inexplicable. This is what Lord Aster thinks? Could he honestly think I am using Rakan's sexuality to corner him into marrying for my own sake? Or that I am so disgusted by my brother's choices that I would force a woman who is indebted to me on him? 

  

‘You laugh? Is that all you have to say?’ Yes, I laugh, because what he is saying is ridiculous.   

  

‘Sebastian, could you please give me and Lord Aster some privacy?’ Sebastian immediately voices his protest, but I stop him. I understand his fears; I am also not comfortable with being alone in this room with Lord Aster. But this is Rakan’s privacy that Lord Aster is showing a complete disregard for. Although I trust Sebastian, I also respect my brother’s wishes, so I urge Sebastian to leave.   

  

When the door closes behind him, I turn to face Lord Aster.   

  

‘You are right about one thing, Lord Aster; I do not like you. You are a bumbling onslaught of romantic compliments one minute, then a handful of veiled threats the next. And you are also right that I have not always been close with my brother, but to suggest I would use him in such a way is the most insulting thing I have ever heard.’ I take a breath, trying to organise my words and thoughts.   

  

‘Sir, I have scrutinised you, and I find you lacking. My brother is dignified, elegant, smart, even kind, kinder than I think you deserve. It is not your gender that demands my interference, Lord Aster, but rather your personality. What secrets are you hiding behind your smiles and your flirtations? How deeply will they hurt my brother when you reveal them to finally get what you want?’   

  

Lord Aster is frowning at me, confused, as I spit my words out at him.   

  

‘What could you possibly think I would want from Prince Rakan?’  

  

‘Why don’t you enlighten me, Lord Aster?’ But he says nothing. His face goes pale, and he takes a few steps away from me. ‘You give me more credit than I am due, Lord Aster, assuming I have planned this with the king. He does not listen to me. Look at my face, see what he does when I speak my mind.’ Finally, Lord Aster’s eyes clear and he actually looks at me. I don’t know what I look like, but I know there is blood, and in all likelihood, there is a bruise of some kind already forming. Every frown, every laugh, every word is beginning to hurt, and a headache is making it hard for me to think straight.   

  

‘Your face...’  

  

‘Yes, my face.’ Finally, I have his attention. ‘Who are you, Lord Aster, to know something about my brother that I have only known for less than half an hour?’ And suddenly, Lord Aster is quiet. ‘How do you know that Prince Rakan is to be sold to the south?’ Silence follows. ‘You see, Lord Aster, why I do not trust you? A master of secrets cannot be trusted with someone I hold dear.’ The shock on Lord Aster’s face is clear.   

  

‘How do you know that name?’ I chuckle humourlessly, then immediately regret it as pain courses through my face.   

  

‘You threatened me, Lord Aster, and I took that threat to include my brother. I did my research.’ It’s a lie, of course. I know he’s the ‘Master of Secrets’ because I read the webcomic. But it wouldn’t hurt to have him think I have my own information network. ‘What do you want with my brother?’   

  

Lord Aster paces the room again, slower this time, before he stops and falls onto the sofa where Sebastian was sitting before. The look on his face is indescribable. There are so many emotions battling it out on his face, all of them finally giving way to worry. After a few moments, I cross the room and take a seat on the same sofa, the opposite side of him.   

  

‘Tell me the truth, Lord Aster. What do you want with my brother?’   

  

‘I... I...’ And then I realise, suddenly and with such force that I wonder why I never realised it before. I was able to read Rakan so easily, but for some reason, I didn’t even think it was possible for Lord Aster. Despite everything I have experienced over the last few weeks, despite realising that this is not simply the world of a story but is a reality filled with real feeling people, I have not applied that same logic to Lord Aster. He is the cliché flirt, the Genki guy. He is full of compliments and flirtatious banter and nothing else. It didn’t occur to me that there could be more to his character. I never thought he might have used that archetype as a cover. I assumed he went into battle with Giddeon at the end to protect Evangeline, the woman he was supposed to love. Never did I think that he went into battle because Rakan went into battle, and he wanted to protect Rakan.   

  

‘You love my brother.’ And it’s like all the tension has been sucked from the room, like a balloon deflating. Lord Aster’s face flushes red, but what I see is not embarrassment, anger, or fear, but relief. Someone has said it. It’s out in the open.   

  

I sigh.   

  

‘Does he know?’ Lord Aster shakes his head. I frown, shaking my head. ‘But why, why act the way you do...?’  

  

‘When a flirt is found sneaking around or asking questions, it is assumed they are trying to bed a lady, not uncover secrets.’ I nod my head. This makes sense. It worked on me, would’ve worked with no issue if he didn’t shown his true colours when I got close to Rakan. That’s his weakness; Rakan.   

  

‘You do not want to hurt Rakan.’ Lord Aster shakes his head, and a look takes over his face that I have never seen before.   

  

‘I would never hurt Prince Rakan.’ And I believe him. That itch in the back of my mind that has been there every time I have crossed paths with Lord Aster is gone.   

  

‘I also do not want to hurt my brother.’ I look at Lord Aster as I say the words. ‘I did not know the king would do this.’ And then I sigh. ‘I have two days.’   

  

‘I can get him out of the city.’ I nod my head. I don’t know what else to do.   

  

‘I could speak to Duke Virfain.’ Lord Aster frowns.   

  

‘And send him north?’ I can hear the words he doesn’t say. Send him north, away from him.  

  

‘Duke Virfain can protect him in ways you cannot, Lord Aster.’ The fire returns to Lord Aster’s eyes.   

  

‘I can protect him.’ I sigh again.   

  

‘My brother is not a child, nor is he a damsel. I do not even know if he knows.’ I let my head fall into my hands, thoughts running a million miles an hour.   

  

‘I will speak to him.’   

  

‘No,’ I shake my head, ‘I will speak to him.’ Lord Aster opens his mouth to protest, and I stop him. ‘He needs a chance to make his own decision. I will speak to Duke Virfain, and then I will speak to my brother. He deserves all the information and to know his options. Let him choose.’ Several emotions flit across Lord Aster’s face once again. It is so obvious now that I think about it, and as I sit here and watch the cogs turn in his brain. I assumed Lord Aster was in the same vein as Giddeon, power-hungry, a vulture waiting to feed from Rakan’s corpse. But I look at him now, a mess of raw emotions now that I have exposed him, and I don’t know how I didn’t see it.   

  

‘But you should talk to my brother, Lord Aster.’ He looks at me, unsure what I am trying to say. ‘You are one of his options, whether that is him leaving with you, or you leaving with him.’ He looks at me for a few long moments before he finally nods. ‘Give me till this evening.’ He nods again.   

  

My head is pounding. Every time I move the edges of my mouth, pain radiates across the left side of my face. I am exhausted, and my thoughts are running a mile an hour. There are so many things to do. Every move I have made has created another three problems. Not anymore. Today has been a lesson learned in blood. I will be more prepared. I will make it so no one can touch me or those I care about.   

  

‘Sebastian...’ Before I can say anything, the door to my drawing room bursts open and Sebastian comes running into the room. He is by my side in seconds, glaring at Lord Aster like he is the one responsible for my injury.   

  

‘Your highness, you need rest.’ Sebastian looks directly at Lord Aster as he says this, his eyes accusatory.  

  

‘Yes. Lord Aster, I will say this again, please leave.’ Lord Aster rises from his seat. His face is still a mess but at least he is calm now. He looks at me, a frown on his face.   

  

‘This evening.’ I nod.   

  

‘Sunset. Now, leave.’ He nods and finally, he leaves, closing the door behind him. I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding.   

  

‘Your highness, you need to rest.’ I shake my head, instead crossing the room and looking in the mirror sitting on Lyra’s vanity. My face is a mess. The cut on my lip is relatively small, but there is also a cut on my cheek and the left side of my face is very swollen. There will be a dark bruise there in a matter of hours. I can already see one forming on Sebastian’s face.   

  

‘I must speak to Duke Virfain.’  

  

‘Your highness, I insist that you rest.’ I take Sebastian’s hand, using it to steady myself a little.   

  

‘You also need to rest, Sebastian.’  

  

‘Your highness...’  

  

‘Sebastian, please, you need to rest. I shall speak to Lizzie and have her fetch the duke.’ I squeeze Sebastian’s hand. ‘I order you to rest, Sebastian. I will not rest until you do.’ He frowns at me, upset, before he takes a seat at my vanity and begins to dab his face with a cloth where the blood has dried. I watch for a few moments before leaving to find Lizzie.