Elise

Before Katonah knew it, a month had passed. It was hard to keep track of the days going by, because both Leo and Camilla kept her busy, and by the time she flumped down into bed, exhausted, it was time to get up again, for more hours spent writing and reading words and learning the protocol of royal society.

Thankfully, Leo had stopped with the letter sheet — she graduated to a new level of the curriculum, one that involved him writing down simple sentences for her to sit down, sound out, and comprehend. He was as rigorous with these sentences as he had been with the letters, and Katonah was better for it — within five days, she had the basics of present tense sentences, but found that it only grew more complicated after that. After all, there was past tense, future tense, present participle, and an assortment of others that she had used, verbally, but not understood up to this point in time. All of the complexities certainly didn't help her opinion of the idea of a written language overall.

"Trust me," Leo said when she brought this up, "there will be many uses for this skill down the line. So many, in fact, that you'll find yourself grateful that I put you through the trouble."

"I'm sure there are many uses," Katonah said grumpily as he began to ink out a new sentence on the parchment, "but why is a written language necessary? My tribe has gone without it for centuries."

"It isn't," he admitted.

Aha!

"And I can't say I understand why the man who decided that it was a good idea believed that it was," Leo continued. "But I do feel that it was inevitable. Humans are a progressive species — it is in our bones to build upon what we've created and improve it. After learning to speak coherently, it wouldn't be long before we decided to try and convey speech through letters as well. And perhaps writing is a distinction that separates us from the beasts. Think about it: the idea of using symbols scratched out in ink — or mud — to represent concepts. Objects. Ideas. To the early peoples, such an idea would have been absurd. Yet it proves that we're sentient beings. That we are conscious, aware of ourselves. In a way, written language is proof that we, in fact, are enlightened. Our intellect exemplifies us, the alpha predator, the cleverest beast to roam the earth because of our ability to communicate and coordinate not only verbally, but via secret symbols that no other animal can decipher. You see?"

She was astounded. "I...I never thought of it that way."

He smirked. "No, you wouldn't have. You are one of those confused beasts, after all."

She laughed. "How dare you. It's your rigorous coursework that makes me so beastly!"

"Yet, for a savage, you're progressing fairly well. Now, tell me what this sentence says."

They did that a lot. Laughed. Talked, discussed things in length that Katonah was curious about or did not understand. Teasing less often, but the fact that they sometimes picked on each other at all, without the threat of repercussions, was incredible, considering Leo's temperament.

Perhaps it was because the meditation relaxed Leo, made him easier to talk to.

Over those four weeks, they went out several times to that cliff top and lay down under the sun, letting their minds quiet themselves. After the first few times, they no longer felt awkward lying down beside each other — for Katonah, knowing that Leo was there with her had a curious effect, allowing her to slip down into that not-there-ness more easily than she would have been able to alone.

A few times, Katonah gave Leo some light counsel, reminding him to let himself drift, and to not try too hard, but she soon realized that the young prince needed no instruction to sink into his own meditative state. It was almost as though he had mastered the transition the first time, impossible as that might have seemed. Once, she pretended to sink away but stayed fully alert, watching him out of the corner of her eye. Always, he had his fingers laced across his chest, his left leg crossed over his right, brows furrowed slightly as he took deep, expansive breaths. Then, as his mind no doubt calmed, his eyebrows, his mouth, his cheekbones...his entire face relaxed. The armor eased, allowed Katonah see through the cracks, to the young, sweet-looking boy that Leo rarely allowed see the light of day.

After that first time, Katonah found herself waiting longer to go into her own meditation, long enough to see the sweet Lord Leo emerge, the sun outlining his strong profile and pulling out buttery tones in his hair. Again, his resemblance to Xander was shocking: when he wasn't scowling, or directing a withering stare, or speaking contemptuously, he was very good-looking, like Xander was good-looking in a sleeping-lion kind of way. Except Leo's handsomeness was far more genuine — he let it to the surface more often, when he smiled or let out a snort of laughter.

When Katonah eventually lapsed into her own resting state afterwards, Leo and his rare smile often occupied her thoughts, and she found that, in thinking of him, it took slightly longer to exhaust her mind and reach her silent sea.

Usually, they would be on the cliff top for many hours — Leo generally woke first, and after he roused her, they would often talk. Generally about nothing important — once, they continued their debate on the merits of a complex written language. Another time, the particulars of dress, both Nohrian and tribal. More often, though, they talked about things they had experienced in the meditation, what they could remember, anyway.

"Today, I noticed something strange," Leo commented after they'd awoken from their rest.

"What's that?" Katonah asked, readjusting her cloak around her; it was a little chillier out today, and both were wrapped in cloaks. Thankfully, they were sitting out in the sun, which eased the cold somewhat.

"It's when I awoke," Leo said, looking thoughtfully up into the sky — a hawk coasted overhead, wheeling about in lazy circles. "I felt..." He paused, looking for the right word. "Itchy."

"Itchy how?"

"That's the thing. It wasn't an actual itch, not exactly. More like...filth. Maybe not even that." He sat, frustrated at not being able to describe the feeling properly. Katonah tried not to feel annoyed at that — she'd come to find that Leo didn't like not being able to apply his extensive vocabulary to something as abstract as meditation. It tried her patience when he tried so hard to be academic, especially since it wasn't necessary.

"No, it was disgust," he finally decided.

"At what?"

"Myself, I think. When I came to, I felt a little nasty — disgusted with my own flesh."

She nodded solemnly. "I know the feeling."

"Do you?"

"I always feel a little too small to hold myself when I finish."

He pointed at her, delighted. "That's exactly it! I feel too small. But not me — my body. It's as though when I'm in the Center, I'm able to assume a larger form. A superior form." He paused. "Is that what my enlightened form will feel like?"

Before she could answer, he laughed. "Listen to me. The word 'form' implies that I have substance, but when I go to the Center, I don't."

"And the phrase 'going to the Center' implies that you are actually moving from one place to another," she replied, "when in reality, you aren't going anywhere."

"But at the same time, in a way, you are. Into the earth."

"Yes."

"And you're both there, in that place, the Center, and here, too. And in the earth."

"Yes."

"And at the same time, you're neither here nor there."

He was beginning to get it. "Yes."

He shook his head. "How is it that you savages haven't been driven insane by these paradoxes?"

"I told you, we don't meditate with the earth for spirituality's sake much anymore."

"Perhaps that was by design. No doubt it drove more than one of you mad, trying to understand it all with your primitive minds."

She smiled. "The experience is too exquisite to give up. It would be insane to decide as a tribe to not use the Center. I think it's like the trees say: we just became more self-absorbed and didn't respect the Earth Dragon as much as we once did."

He conceded the point. "How do you suppose one would go about reaching this enlightenment of yours, once they've reached the Center stage?"

"You sound serious, Lord Leo."

"The experiment thus far has been eye-opening. You can imagine my curiosity at how it will feel to achieve the ultimate realization with your Earth Dragon."

"I don't know how to do it. I don't even know for sure if meditation is the exact way to achieve it."

"But you said—"

"I know what I said." She waved a hand. "But it was just a guess. It makes sense. It seems logical. But logic doesn't always apply to this kind of thing, does it?"

He looked thoughtful. "Perhaps you have to go deeper?"

"Deeper? What do you mean?"

Leo crossed his legs and grabbed a nearby pine needle, fiddling with the browning ends. "I don't know how it is for you," he said, "and I'm not even sure of how it is for me, since I can't remember the Center most of the time when I come to. But I always have the impression, when I go the Center, that it has depth. Like an endless stairway that leads down to the abyss, and I'm just wandering about the top of the stairs. Have you noticed this?"

She paused, thought. She, too, had a hard time remembering what the Center was like, as the place had the paradoxical condition of both existing and not existing, and how could you remember being in a place that did not exist? Yet, she remembered the first time she'd rested out with Leo, and remembered feeling how deep she'd gone — deep enough that she reached a point she'd never seen before, a point that had felt like a threshold, like...

"A doorway," she murmured.

"What?"

She gestured hastily. "You're right, I think the Center does have depth. The first time I taught you how to do it, I think I went deep enough that I encountered a sort of doorway. I think. That's what it felt like: I was encroaching on new territory."

"Did you go through it?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I think you woke me up before I could. It's hard to remember."

Leo looked thoughtful. "Could this be the doorway to the enlightened plane?"

She took a moment to appreciate the improbability of this conversation: sitting in a warm glen, talking to the cold, analytical prince of Nohr about enlightenment. "Maybe," she said. "I don't know."

"Do you think there is a door in my Center, too?"

"Iseabail told me that all Centers are the same. If mine has a door, then so does yours. But yours will be unique to you."

"Iseabail?"

"My mentor." Pause. "She's one of the prisoners."

Leo's spine straightened. "The old woman."

"You've met her?"

"I wouldn't say that." Leo hesitated. He glanced at her before quickly looking away, then cleared his throat. "I just know that when Xander ordered me to gather five additional hostages, she was one of the ones I chose."

Katonah's throat dried, and felt astonishment shock the feeling out of her legs. "Oh." So Leo had been the one that had taken the five of her tribesmen hostage. She didn't know how to feel about that — part of her wanted to be furious, betrayed, but what was the point? Leo may have done the threatening and binding, but he'd just said that it was Xander who'd given the actual order.

Still, the news made things tense again, refreshed the lines that had begun to blur a bit with their growing amity: Leo, again, was the prince of enemy territory, and Katonah, like her fellow tribesmen, was a hostage to his older brother.

After a long, awkward silence, Leo shifted his legs uncomfortably and said, "Let's head back. Dinner will be soon."

(/\)

Katonah was so busy with Leo and Camilla that she had little time to see the prisoners or speak with Ch'idzigyak. Yet, when she was finally able to find time to take a trip to the dungeon, she found the prisoners as they'd been the last time she'd seen them: bored, but taken care of. Iseabail's bones were aching a bit — the cold, damp dungeon was no place for an old woman to live, even one as robust as Katonah's foster mother. She promised Iseabail that she'd look for some medicine to help her — she'd heard Camilla mention the castle's apothecary in passing several days ago. When Katonah told her about it, the Old Mother grunted irritably.

"I wish I'd known about that apothecary three weeks ago," she said. "Now that you've got some freedom on your hands, girl, bring me some things to make a mat for my joints, will you? The chill in this place is despicable."

Luckily, Katonah was able to remember to ask Camilla about the herbs, and she brought the medicine to the old woman several days later to treat her joints, as well as some extra blankets to insulate her warriors as the season grew progressively colder. Still, she was only able to speak to them a handful of times over the next two weeks, and each time she did, her conversations with her foster mother were shorter than she would have liked, thanks to impending lessons with either Camilla and Leo. And she kept forgetting how much she wanted to speak to the Old Mother about the prophecy, and the meditation she was doing with Leo.

Yet, even if she'd had more time to speak to Iseabail, she wondered if discussing the prophecy in the company of attentive guards was taking too much of a risk. The information was certainly something that Xander would be interested in — something that would explain how she'd utilized that Dragon Vein months ago. It made her incredibly anxious — after all, Tormod had told her that Iseabail had received the prophecy from the Earth Dragon, so there was every chance that the old woman had some valuable information that could help her reconcile the prophecy with her need to escape Xander and the impending marriage and return home.

But every time she visited Iseabail, the words died in her throat whenever she saw the guards, watching her with an attentiveness that was not quite suspicious anymore, but that wasn't exactly lax, either.

Ch'idzigyak she was only able to talk to twice over that span of a month. The tree was still in healthy bloom, but the soil in her pits was getting old, running out of nutrients. Katonah took a shovel and a bag with her the next time she went to the Dragon Vein cliff top with Leo and a couple days later, after supper, forced herself to go out into the dark and cold and replace the old, dry soil in the tree's soil-pits with fresh piles of earth, all while apologizing profusely for her inattentiveness. But if Ch'idzigyak had been annoyed by Katonah's absence, she didn't show it, verbally or otherwise.

There's no rush, dear Katonah, she said. Your prolonged care has made you forget how hardy I am. I was alive when you first found me, crusty and dried-out, remember?

The tree was jesting, but Katonah didn't like the feeling she got when imagining Ch'idzigyak thirsty and dry again, no more than she did thinking about the aches in Iseabail's bones or the despondent boredom of the other Earth Tribe warriors. The sudden educational curriculum imposed by Leo and Camilla was taking up all of her time, and she felt that she was neglecting those she was responsible for, even if they played it off or outright denied it.

Yet, the royal siblings seemed determined to keep up the pace: after simple sentences, Leo moved her onto reading entire paragraphs of pre-written text. Camilla continued on courtly protocol and etiquette, but, quite surprisingly, four days later the lessons turned to one subject that Katonah did not want to hear about: royal marriage.

"Ah." Camilla nodded when Katonah stiffened at the broach of subject. "Yes. It looks like you've done exactly what Xander warned you not to do."

Katonah stared at her. "What?"

"Complacency, sweetheart. He warned you not to let his absence lure you into complacency. And look at what you've done." Camilla gestured to her before stacking her hands back onto her hips. "You've forgotten, haven't you? That you're marrying Xander. A few weeks of rigorous studying, a few rides out to wherever it is you and Leo go, and it's like you've trained yourself not to remember that you're in the same world that sentenced you to a lifelong relationship with the king of Nohr."

Katonah felt a wave of cold overcome her, even as she shook her head. "I haven't forgotten," she protested, and it was a lie. Almost. If not a lie, then only a semi-truth. Because in actuality she hadn't forgotten, not overall. He was always there, Xander, at the back of her mind, clinging to her skull like a black, sleeping parasite. There, but easier to ignore, to forget about.

But now, the parasite nipped her neck, reminding her that it was there, that it was still there, despite the fine job the coursework and burgeoning camaraderie with Leo had done in distracting her. It was still there, and its bite stung.

Camilla was unimpressed by her lie. "Do you know your greatest flaw, Katonah?"

Katonah looked down at her hands, suddenly feeling nauseous. "My inability to hide my emotions?" she muttered.

"Not even that. It's your naiveté. Your sincerity. A romantic might say your purity. You're too sweet and innocent and unassuming, and it makes you easy to surprise. Easy to control. That is why Xander's very name brings you fear. And it's why we can so easily read you, understand you more than you may understand yourself."

Katonah didn't know what this had to do with royal marriage, but she didn't speak.

"And," the vixen continued, "it is why the Nohrian court will destroy you if you don't learn to look out for yourself. You think Xander is manipulative? The nobility of Nohr is worse, much, much worse. Few of them are likable, and many of them are greedy, ambitious. They will smile when you meet them, but they will not care for you, not as you may find yourself caring for them, as people — their only concern will be how they can use you to get what they want, whether or not you are the wife of the king of Nohr."

Katonah didn't want to hear this, any of it. She knew she was a coward, even if her father believed otherwise — and she knew that her life as Xander's wife was going to be lonely and hellish, with or without the Nohrian court involved. She knew that, knew that — why did Camilla have to shove her head down into a bucket of cold reality, ruining what little equilibrium she'd found in this isolated castle, away from the manipulative nobility?

"Why are you saying this to me?" she whispered.

Camilla leaned across the table. Her eyes were cold, but intense — an old hurt lay deep inside them, fueling the fire in the woman's dark irises.

"I'm trying to warn you," she said harshly. "Trying to make you aware of the tacks littered before you. Perhaps you've felt that you've finally found your footing; I have no problem with you stopping and enjoying the sun, what little there is, but don't allow yourself to forget the road you're on, or where it leads. You haven't suffered until you're forced to endure the hypocrisy of the Nohrian court. And you will suffer, General, if you don't steel yourself for what's to come."

Katonah stared at the cold fire in the vixen's eyes, eyes that were usually so cool and detached, and heard the unspoken story beneath her words: Camilla must have been one of the many that had suffered at the hands of nobility. She almost wanted to speak, to ask, but thought better of it — the subject was taboo, as dangerous as white-hot coals. To ask was to be burned.

"Okay," she said instead, looking down at her hands again.

Camilla didn't respond, just sat back. Katonah heard her pull in a deep breath.

"Let's talk marriage," she finally said.

(/\)

Generally, marriages were announced by posting a note on the door of a church. Though Windmire had a regal cathedral, Camilla explained that her betrothal to Xander would be announced in three stages: once during a private betrothal ceremony in the cathedral, then at a societal ball, and lastly, at the actual wedding, which would, again, take place in the cathedral.

There was a lot to remember: Nohrian marriage, like its written language, was hugely complicated, and involved many ceremonies and rituals, most of which Katonah couldn't remember. Yet, it was nearly impossible to forget, much less not think about, the final stage of the Nohrian marriage process: consummation.

Her ears rang when Camilla began speaking of the protocol of the wedding night. The vixen didn't have to tell her what the act involved — Katonah may have been a virgin, but she was not that naïve. Though marriage was different on the moorland, they, too, saw the union as complete only after the couple in question had sex. Katonah felt sick at the thought of doing such a thing with Xander, a man that cowed her. Controlled her. Especially since she viewed sex the same way she viewed marriage: union between people who loved, cared, and supported one another. The thought that her first time would be with a man that terrified her made her want to weep.

When the horrible lesson with Camilla was finally over, she hurried to her room and locked the door, crawling into bed and pulling her covers over her, hiding herself. Suddenly, all that she could think about was the wedding night—however far off it was, days, weeks, months, it was still there, unstoppable, inevitable. Terror churned through her at the thought of baring herself, submitting to a man that she did not love, all so that he could keep her tribe under his thumb. It stole her breath, made her eyes sting — her stomach wrung itself out, threatening to eject her morning meal.

Gasping, she tried to meditate — tried to release her hold on her thoughts, her fear, her anxiety, as she had so many times up on the cliff top with Leo, and sink away. But though she let her thoughts run wild, they did not stop: Xander, Xander, Xander, Xander, Xander, Xander, Xander, Xander, Xander, Xander, Xander, Xander, Xander.

Perhaps it was because she was not touching the earth. Perhaps she was too wound up, too nauseous, too dizzy. Because, suddenly, her Center was out of reach.

(/\)

Waking the next morning was hard. Not because she had a nightmare, or because she slept deeply, but because when she woke up to the sound of Matilda coming in, her first thought was of a wedding night with the king of Nohr. It made her nauseous, clumsy, and no matter what she did, she could not manage to stop thinking about it for one minute, not even one second. It made studying with Leo frustrating — on both ends.

"You're relapsing," Leo snapped thirty minutes in. He wasn't even trying to disguise his exasperation. "You keep mixing up your Js and your Gs. And your Cs and Ks. It's like you're tongue-tied."

"Sorry," she muttered. She tried again, putting more effort in reading Leo's sentences, but Xander kept invading her mind like a sneaky black cloud, muddying her focus.

Three minutes later, Leo said, "Stop." He pulled the sheet out of her hands and then sank down into the seat before her, crossing his arms. She suddenly found herself at the center of his undivided attention.

"What is it?" he asked.

"What is what?"

"The matter, General."

She looked away. "Nothing."

"Your performance suggests otherwise. Nearly a month of steadfast progress, and suddenly you're tripping up over things we worked on the first day. That, and you're not as enthusiastic as you usually are."

She chuckled a little, humorlessly. "Since when have I been enthusiastic about your arduous work load, Lord Leo?"

"You've certainly been more enthusiastic than this. It's like you're depressed. Or moping." A change came over him — the lines of his body, usually held at tense attention, loosened somewhat, and he leaned across the table. "Is something bothering you?" he asked, his tone softer.

She felt a slow blush creep into her cheeks. Was he actually worried about her? She studied his face, and saw that his concern was genuine — his eyes were no longer barbed. Instead they were heartfelt in their sympathy. She hesitated. Could she tell him her misgivings about marrying Xander?

Mentally, she shook her head. No. What was the point? It was moot, after all — though she had never said so aloud, he knew that she didn't want to marry his older brother. It was obvious. There was no point in discussing it.

"I'm fine," she said. "Really."

"You can speak your mind, General." His voice was shockingly earnest. "No repercussions. On my honor as a knight."

She bit her lip, the urge to confide in him rising from deep within her. But when the words reached her tongue, they seemed to burn her mouth; she wound up saying, "It's nothing. Honestly."

"Was it something Camilla told you?" Leo rubbed his jaw, curious. "I noticed you looked a little pale at supper yesterday." When she didn't answer, he asked, "Is she being too hard on you?"

"No."

"Then what? Has she offended you in some way?"

"No."

"But she has said something to you. It was her, wasn't it? She's the only one in this castle who might be inclined to do so, without the threat of being sacked. General." Leo leaned across the table. "You can tell me what she said. Honestly. She may be my sister, but—"

"Lord Leo, I don't want to talk about it." The words jumped out of her mouth before she could stop them, sharper than she'd ever intended. "I'm fine, I'm just tired. Can we please go back to the lesson?"

Leo sat back — hurt flashed across his face, so sharp that a wave of guilt over came Katonah. She hadn't meant to snap at him like that. And she certainly hadn't meant for her words to come out so barbed. It wasn't his fault that she was feeling so anxious, so ill, and to an extent, it wasn't Camilla's fault either. Once again, all blame for her foul mood went to Xander.

But couldn't Leo see that she didn't want to talk about it? The fact that she couldn't stop thinking about Xander was bad enough, but actually talking about it, she now knew, would push her nausea over the edge. And what was the point of speaking about it to Leo, anyway? They may have been friends, but Leo was the prince of Nohr. He wasn't Tormod, and he wasn't Iseabail. He wasn't someone Katonah could speak to openly, someone that could relate to her terrors, someone that would give her the reassurance she craved. At best, he would give her pity, when what she needed was a pair of open arms that she could fall into and weep in.

For a moment, they sat silent, the sting of Katonah's words still lingering in the air. Katonah stared down at her hands, watched her fingers listlessly wind together. Despite her rationale, her guilt was overwhelming — she dearly wanted to apologize for her outburst, but knew there was no point. She'd wanted him to stop probing, and had gotten her wish.

Finally, he let out a breath, then rose from his seat. Katonah's head lifted at the movement: Leo's face was marble smooth once again, and his voice, when he spoke, was harsh: "All right, then, let's get back to work. We'll take a break from reading for now and come back to it later. Let's switch gears and turn back to writing instead. I want you to write a short paragraph describing the many items you see in this room. The minimum is five sentences. Go."

The rest of the study period was uncomfortable, something that it had not been in weeks. Leo was blunt, his criticism taciturn — suddenly, he was acting a lot more like Xander, and that made her cower. You fool. What have you done? Had she, with one slip of the tongue, suddenly ruined the amity that had been blossoming between them? All he'd done was try and get her to confide in him, something a friend would do, and she'd rebuffed him. The need to apologize rose within her, but he was being so short with her that it was hard for her to find the courage — or the opening — to do so.

And, again, what was the point? The damage was done.

Soon, the sun pierced the horizon, and shortly thereafter it was time for breakfast. Leo's gait was stiff as he led her to the dining hall, something that greatly bothered her — lately, he'd taken to walking beside her on their way to breakfast, chatting with her about her academic progress or meditation. Now, a chilly amount of distance separated them, and the passing torches brought out the stiff lines of Leo's frame. She wished she could just blurt out the apology, but couldn't seem to wet her mouth enough to speak.

As they reached the dining hall, Katonah was still trying to find her tongue, but became distracted by an unfamiliar voice coming from the dining hall. Xander, she thought instantly, horrified. But no — after a pause, she realized that the voice was female. Female and young...

"Gods." Leo sounded disgruntled. "Already?"

Already what? Katonah opened her mouth to ask, but before she could, something came flying out of the dining hall, nearly barreling Leo over. Katonah stumbled back, shocked.

"Leo! I'm so glad to see you!"

The prince skittered backwards, struggling to keep his balance. "That makes one of us," Leo said, highly annoyed. "Get off of me, would you? Act your age!"

A young girl Katonah had never seen before had wrapped herself around Leo's torso, enfolding him in a hug so tight that the color was draining from the crown prince's cheeks. When she stepped back, leaving a very noticeable wrinkle in Leo's silk shirt, Katonah saw that she was mistaken — the girl was an older teenager, maybe fifteen or sixteen years of age, though the dark kohl lining her eyes and pink fullness of her lips made her seem a little older. Dressed in all black, she resembled a petite doll, and had a shocking amount of hair: a mane of pale gold, barely confined behind her shoulders by a massive clip in the shape of a black rose. She pouted when Leo beat the winkle out of his shirt with two hands.

"And you," she said, poking him in the chest, "act like the adoring older brother that I know you are. Do you know how long it's been since I've seen you? Three months! Three months! Where I was all alone in Castle Krakenburg, running the kingdom all on my lonesome! And you can't even act sympathetic when we reunite!"

"You were far from on your lonesome," Leo said in exasperation. "That would imply that you didn't have a host of advisors making all your decisions for you."

"It was a lonely crowd," the girl insisted. "With Effie off on maternity leave and Arthur gone away being a hero, I was so..." She hugged Leo again. "Lonely!"

"Elise," Leo snapped, "will you please—"

"The both of you stop." Camilla appeared behind Katonah, making her jump nearly a foot in the air. The woman gave her a light push forward. "Don't try to hide in the shadows, General. Elise won't bite any more than I will."

Elise whipped around, interest in Leo suddenly gone. "This is General Katonah?" she asked, eyes shining.

Camilla pushed her again, so Katonah took a few steps forward, blushing. "Um, yes," she said. "Hello...Princess Elise?"

"Yes!" Without preamble, Elise grabbed both of her hands, her eyes so big and her smile so wide that her enthusiasm became blinding; Katonah tried not to flinch back. "Wow, it's so great to meet you, Katonah! You are super pretty!"

What? Katonah found herself glancing at Leo, suddenly wondering if this was some elaborate prank. She'd heard of Elise, of course — Xander and Camilla had once mentioned her in passing at the supper table, and she'd eventually figured out that Elise was another Nohrian royal sibling, the youngest. Yet, when Katonah had imagined her, a cold young woman had come to mind, as calculating as Leo, impassive as Xander, and contemptuous as Camilla. But this girl standing before her was about as far from her imagining as it was possible to be: where her older siblings projected hostility, she projected sincerity, candor. Her eyes were not crafty, they were open and earnest and warm. How was it possible that she was related to the other three?

A moment passed — Elise was waiting for her to speak. "T...t-thank you," she said. Then she added, clumsily, "You're pretty, too."

Elise laughed — it was a warm, kind sound. "You are so sweet!" she said. "I guess it's little wonder that Xander likes you."

Katonah bristled reflexively — luckily, Elise didn't seem to notice. Instead, she bent close and playfully jabbed Katonah in the ribs. "I bet you're wondering why I'm here," she said in a loud whisper. "Right?"

"Uh, yes."

"Well, I'm glad you asked." Elise clasped Katonah's hands and gave an excited bounce. "Xander wanted to come, but he's got business back at the capital." She cast Leo a knowing look — apparently, he and Camilla were aware of what "business" was occupying the king of Nohr. Turning back to Katonah, Elise said happily, "So he sent me instead! I'm so glad he did. I've been dying to meet you!"

Katonah smiled. It was hard not to. Elise's genuine cheer was infectious.

Leo was growing impatient. "Well, Elise? What's the word from Xander?"

Elise scowled at him. "Will you listen to that, Katonah?" she said, jerking her head over to Leo. "Refuses to be happy to see me, after months apart...and if that wasn't enough, he completely disregards my desire to fellowship. Do you have any siblings like that, Katonah? Ones that are impossible to please?"

"Elise," Leo said testily. His ears were turning red.

"Oh fine, grumpy." Elise waved her hand. "Xander told me that you're part of the Earth Tribe, Katonah, and that some of your people are imprisoned here."

Katonah straightened, hope soaring in her chest. "Yes," she said breathlessly. "Is Xander going to allow us to free another one?"

"Bingo! She's got it, folks!" Elise gave her a thumbs-up. "He said he's been getting awesome reports about you from Leo and Camilla concerning your schoolwork. Good work, Katonah!"

Katonah felt a real smile spread across her face — happiness and relief battled for dominance within her. Thank gods. It had been such a while since they'd returned Emmet to the moorland that Katonah feared that Xander had decided to just keep the remaining four prisoners incarcerated. She hated the thought of them being down there forever, and it felt good, surprisingly good, to know that today, she would send one of them back to their homeland.

She felt, too, that seeing the moor would do her a world of good.

(/\)

Again, Iseabail refused to be taken back to the moor. Katonah tried to talk her out of it, but it was a very poor argument — one, because Iseabail was an incredibly stubborn old bird, and two, because, selfishly, Katonah herself didn't want the Old Mother to go. Though things at the castle were continually getting easier, and she was slowly getting used to living in Nohr, knowing that Iseabail was there occupying the same castle was a wondrous comfort that she'd, up to this point, taken for granted. She hated that she felt that way, but there it was. It was almost a relief that the Old Mother refused to go, so she did not have an excuse to voice her pathetic, hatefully selfish needs aloud.

She chose another one of the warriors instead, one named Ormond, who was quickly whisked off in chains to the front courtyard, where Katonah was told carriages were being prepped to take them through the mountain wall. Katonah began to follow, but Matilda stopped her in the hall, laden with thick cloaks, and handed Katonah one. It was then that Katonah noticed that the corridors were busy: there were servants everywhere, carrying an assortment of cargo and dipping in and out of the halls like worker bees in a honeycomb.

"What's going on?" Katonah asked Matilda, gesturing to indicate the busy tension in the air.

Matilda shrugged. "I couldn't say, milady. I'm sure that milord and miladies will bring you up to speed when the time is right." She quickly did the buttons on the front of Katonah's cloak. "Safe journey, milady."

Outside, not two, but six carriages were waiting. Katonah was guided to the big one at the front, where Ormond was sitting, anxiously glancing out the window. He raised a brow at Katonah when she loaded on.

"There's a lot of activity going on out there, princess," he commented. "What's happening?"

"I wish I knew." Katonah watched as house servants streamed out of the castle entryway, carrying boxes and chests and rucksacks that they loaded into the following five carriages under the supervision of a large cluster of soldiers. One footman, she noticed, was carrying five different sword sheaths in one hand — it took Katonah a moment to realize that they were Leo's blades. What had they been doing in his room?

Preparations for the journey to the moorland took a frustratingly long time. Fifteen long minutes later, there was still no sign of Elise or Camilla or Leo, so Katonah decided to go see Ch'idzigyak while she still had some time. Assuring Ormond that she would be back, she fastened a few more buttons on her cloak and then headed for the rear courtyard, dodging soldiers and servants all the way.

It was much quieter at the rear of the castle — the chasm seemed to suck away all the sound that drifted around from the anterior. It was also a lot colder back here, with no protection from the harsh, cold breeze that swept across the mountainside. When she reached Ch'idzigyak, she hunched down in front of the trunk, seeking shelter from the wind, then palmed the knob on her lower trunk. Focusing on the tree's heartbeat, she allowed her eyes to drift shut and sink into the tree's Center. Ch'idzigyak?

Katonah. She sounded happy to see her. Katonah felt her probe into her end of the bond. What's this? You're going back to the moorland again?

Yes. Xander's decided that one more of the prisoners can go free.

I'm so happy for you.

Thank you. She paused. I'm sorry that I haven't been able to see you much lately. Or care for you.

That is of no consequence. I am a robust creature. I will still be around when your grandchildren roam the earth.

Yes, but I kept promising to stop by, and I—

You were busy. It couldn't be helped. The very fact that you are kind enough to worry for my welfare means much to me. The tree paused. Why the sudden uncertainty?

I don't know... But I feel like something's going on that I don't know about. She explained the exorbitant amount of preparation going into this trip to the moorland. They didn't pack this much the last time we went.

Something is indeed going on, the tree agreed. But what?

I don't know. But I have a feeling...that I might not see you again for a while.

A deep sadness emanated from Ch'idzigyak. They are taking you away?

I don't know, she said again. But to pack so much, what else could it be?

They sat there for a moment, considering it. It seemed logical to Katonah now. There had barely been any preparation for the delivery of Emmet, and suddenly they were loading up five separate carriages with supplies? The more she thought about it, the more certain she became. They were taking her somewhere — they had to be. But where?

And... Katonah swallowed. What about Iseabail, the other Earth Tribe warriors? What were they going to do with them? And what about Ch'idzigyak? Who would care for the tree while she was gone, make sure that her friend did not lapse into the hollow, half-awake state she'd been in when she'd first arrived at the Northern Fortress?

Don't worry about me, Ch'idzigyak said, reading her thoughts. Or your mother. We will be fine, the both of us.

Katonah wondered why that statement was so profound to her. Iseabail, her mother, yes, but she realized that she saw Ch'idzigyak as a mother, her mother, as well. A tree she may have been, but she was kind and ancient, every bit as warm and unshakable as Iseabail was. And she was about to leave them both behind.

You honor me, Ch'idzigyak said. You honor both of us. But do not fear for us — it is you who needs the worry, dear Katonah, the prayers. Though the thought of you leaving saddens me, I pray that wherever you go, the Earth Dragon follows like a shadow.

Katonah stroked Ch'idzigyak's rough bark. Thank you. I'll miss you.

I will miss you more, sweet. Take care.

Slowly, Katonah eased out of her bond with the tree, feeling unhappy. Her senses came back into focus very slowly — she jumped when she heard someone calling her name.

"Katonah!"

Scrambling to her feet, she found Elise standing behind her, wrapped in a thick black cloak adorned about the hem with a complex vine pattern. She'd changed out of her heels and into hardy boots, and her neck was protected by a two different scarves, both of them thick and fluffy, like animal furs. Overall, she looked ready to brave a brutal tundra winter.

"Princess Elise, I'm so sorry," Katonah said hastily, dusting off the front of her cloak. "I didn't mean..." She blushed. "How long were you standing there?"

"Just Elise, please. And only for a few minutes."

"I'm sorry," Katonah said. She gestured to Ch'idzigyak. "I was just...Just..." She found that she didn't have a good answer. It was her first conversation with Leo all over again.

Elise tilted her head. She looked curious, not annoyed. "Were you talking to the tree?"

Katonah's mouth parted. "H-how did you know?"

"Leo told me about it," Elise said without a shred of embarrassment. "He said you guys in the Earth Tribe can talk to the earth and trees and stuff. Can you really?"

Katonah shifted. "Well...yes."

"So you were actually having a conversation with the tree?"

"Yes."

"What did you say?"

"Um...I was telling her goodbye."

Elise's eyes sparkled. "What did she say?"

"She said that she would miss me."

"Really?"

"Yes."

To her surprise, Elise let out a laugh. "That is so amazing!" she said with true delight. "I didn't know trees were alive like that!" She paused, then gestured to Ch'idzigyak, grinning widely. "I mean, I knew they were alive, but not alive alive, you know? Not enough that they could talk and stuff. And you guys know how to talk to them. That's fantastic!"

Katonah felt a shy smile come to her face. Elise's words made her feel warm inside — she'd never met a person who had such sudden, stark amazement at her and her tribe. It felt good.

"Ooh, can you tell her that I said hi?" Elise said, pointing to Ch'idzigyak.

Katonah glanced back at the tree. "Well, I think she can hear you."

"Yes, but I want to see what she says," Elise said excitedly. "Can you?"

"A-all right." Katonah pressed a palm to the tree and sought out her heartbeat. After a moment, she projected, This is Elise, Xander's youngest sister. She wants to tell you hello.

Ch'idzigyak was amused. Tell her that it is lovely to meet her.

Katonah sat back, and Elise said, "What did she say?"

"That it was nice to meet you."

Elise squealed. "Wow!" she cried. "I talked with a tree! Can you ask her how long she's been here?"

Katonah obliged, then said, "She says long before this castle was built. She remembers the day that men came and began shaping the stone to make the fortress's foundation."

"How did she survive this long?" Elise asked. "This seems like a rough place for plants to live."

Another moment passed in which Katonah sought Ch'idzigyak's answer. Then, she said, "She says that the mountains weren't always this bare and fruitless. At one point in the past, you'd be hard-pressed to find a place within a hundred miles of here where there weren't trees."

Elise raised a brow. "There's an image."

Katonah agreed. In answering, Ch'idzigyak had given her a glimpse of her memories, in which was preserved an image of towering green mountains, with trees clinging to every surface, reaching up towards a happy blue sky and giving the mountains the illusion of further height. It was hard to believe that the surrounding land had once been blanketed in such vibrant color.

"She says," Katonah continued, "that the Twelve created a catastrophic natural disaster that wiped these mountains bare long ago."

"The Twelve?" Elise said, rapt. "You mean the Twelve Dragons?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"She says we'll never know."

"How did she survive?"

They continued like that for a long while — Elise asking Ch'idzigyak questions and Katonah facilitating the tree's answers. Despite the cold, she enjoyed it — it was almost fun. She appreciated the way Elise gave the tree her undivided attention, always eager to hear what Ch'idzigyak had to say. If she needed any more evidence to the fact that the girl was sincere in her kindness and curiosity, she had it.

Another fifteen minutes later, they were interrupted by Leo, who came marching out of the side entrance of the castle, scowl on his face.

"Are the two of you absolutely deaf, or are you just ignorant?" he snapped as he came up. "We've been calling around for you for the longest!"

Katonah quickly reached her feet, surprised by both the severity of his scowl and his clothing. He'd changed into the armor she'd first met him in, a suit of pitch black plates from head to foot, sharper-looking than dragon scales and overlaid with golden accents. Two weapons hung from sheaths situated on either side of his belt: on the left, a blade, its hilt barbed with a pointed pommel. To the right, a thick, heavily grooved tome, secured in place by two tight straps.

She wondered about the armor, and the weapons — it only served to compound her suspicions about the rigorous packing. Leo looked as though he was prepared for war. But that couldn't be. Could it?

Unlike Katonah, Elise didn't hop to — she took her time rising, and then gave Leo a put-out huff.

"Will you relax?" she said crossly. "It's not like you or Camilla were in any rush. The both of you stand in front of the mirror for hours at a time when putting on your armor."

Leo's lips pursed. "We were ready a good ten minutes ago, thank you, waiting for you."

"We were killing time," Elise said with a wave of her hand. "We got a little sidetracked."

"Clearly — we only spent twenty minutes calling your names and searching every crook and cranny of the castle for you."

"You should've looked outside."

"Only the inebriated could stand being out in this weather." Finally, he looked at Katonah. His eyes were not friendly. "What were you two doing, anyway?"

"Talking to Katonah's tree!" Elise said happily. "It was so interesting!"

That threw Leo for a loop. "You were talking to it?" he asked his sister.

"Yep!"

Leo frowned at Katonah. "I thought you had to be able to meditate to do that."

"Oh, no, I wasn't talking to it talking to it," Elise said before Katonah could answer. "Katonah did that. She asked the tree my questions, and then told me her replies. It was cool!"

Her glee seemed to aggravate Leo. "Well, now you can tell her goodbye. We were supposed to leave ten minutes ago. Come on."

Without another word, he turned and marched away, back towards the front courtyard. Katonah watched him go, unhappily wringing her hands together. He hadn't glared at her like that in a long while.

Elise huffed in annoyance. "I would ask who put the bugs in his hair this morning," she said, "but he always acts like he's got bugs in his hair. As our future sister-in-law, I hope you learn to tolerate him, Katonah." She then turned and kissed Ch'idzigyak's bark. "Bye!" she told the tree. "It was awesome being able to talk with you. I hope we can again soon!"

After that, Katonah put her hand against the tree's trunk again, then followed Elise back around the front of the castle.

(/\)

On the ride through the mountain wall, Camilla explained that they, again would be taking wyverns to the Moorland Scythe.

"I want to ride with Kat!" Elise said, interrupting Camilla.

Leo raised a brow. "Kat?"

"My nickname for Katonah," Elise said. She'd chosen to squeeze herself between Katonah and Ormond, and had looped her arm through Katonah's. "Her name is pretty, but sometimes it's a mouthful."

"Did you ask her if she wanted to be called that?" Leo asked crabbily.

"She doesn't mind. Right?" Elise glanced up at her.

She found that she didn't. She'd barely known Elise for two hours, and yet she found that she liked the girl immensely, perhaps because she had an open integrity about her that was wanting in Nohr. "No, I don't," she said, smiling down at the girl.

Leo looked away, annoyed. Katonah's smile dissolved.

"Do you even know how to ride a wyvern, darling?" Camilla asked, crossing her legs. She, like Leo, was back in armor — the same gilded bodice and wicked heeled boots that she had worn when Katonah had first encountered her at the border town. The exposure of the woman's legs and shoulders made her more voluptuous than usual. "I never did get around to teaching you."

"You didn't have to," Elise said. "Beruka gave me lessons."

Camilla was surprised. "Really?"

"Yep. It has been three months." The young princess gave a proud smile. "She said I was pretty good, too. She offered to give me a wyvern egg when hers nested."

Leo grunted. "Beruka should know better. You're too young to be training with those beasts just yet."

Elise scowled. "My birthday was two months ago, you know."

"Fifteen is still not old enough—"

"I'm seventeen!" Elise said in exasperation. "Gods, thanks a lot, Leo! Way to show sibling solidarity!"

Katonah smiled a little as Leo's ears turned red. It seemed she wasn't the only one with a penchant for embarrassing the prince.

"Sorry," Leo said crossly. "I assumed you were younger because you keep projecting that teenage naiveté."

"Hey, not everybody can be as coldly academic as you, older brother." Elise sighed and gave Katonah a wry smile. "Let's pray that you and I aren't that grumpy when we turn twenty-six, Katonah!"

Leo was livid. "I'm twenty-four."

"Yikes! More's the pity."

They soon reached the open field where they had mounted the wyverns last time, and indeed found their rides waiting for them. Katonah did wind up riding with Elise on an unfamiliar lizard. Fortunately, the girl seemed know what she was doing — she handled her beast as well as Camilla handled hers, and soon, they were leaping into the air, they and their escort of soldiers sailing on cold currents towards the green horizon. Katonah took note that the five carriages that had been carrying all the luggage stayed on the ground. She wondered what the soldiers that they'd left behind were going to do with them.

Three rest stops and several hours later, they reached the Moorland Scythe. A wave of elation washed over Katonah as they sailed into warmer, sweeter skies, the air thick with the scent of cold green. Well, not exactly green: the hills were browner now, the forests and tundra miles beyond drained of their buttery summer color, but the vibrant gradient of winter hues was no less a sight for sore eyes.

They landed, as they had last time, in the center of the military compound. They weren't greeted with such an abundance of soldiers this time, probably because the actual king of Nohr was not present, but a small band of infantry soldiers did wait for them as they landed and dismounted. As Katonah worked the dizzy kinks out of her legs, she recognized the Captain as the man came forward and bowed to Leo.

"Milord, we bid you welcome. How was your journey?"

"Well, thank you Captain." Leo motioned for him to rise and, after the Captain greeted Camilla and Elise, Leo said, "When are the representatives of the Earth Tribe expected?"

"They are already waiting, milord. Shall I prepare some horses to bear you to the hillside?"

Leo hesitated — to Katonah's surprise, he glanced back at her before saying, "No, we'll walk. It'll be a good opportunity to work the cramps out of our legs."

"As you wish. May I have the honor of accompanying you?"

Leo waved his hand. "Do as you like."

The Captain rallied a small band of soldiers, and soon they were off, making their way slowly through the military compound. Soldiers were everywhere, carrying cargo, relaying messages, and sharpening weapons, but when they reached the gates, a harsh surprise brought Katonah to a stop — she had to blink once, twice, to make sure she wasn't seeing things.

But no, she wasn't: there were Earth Tribe warriors inside the compound, milling about near the gates. There were six, no seven, standing near a small horse-drawn cart and speaking with a trio of soldiers.

Leo followed her gaze and stopped too. "Are those Earth Tribe members?" he asked, just as surprised.

"Ah, yes," the Captain said. "That is Cian and his men."

"I don't care who they are, Captain," Leo said testily. "What are they doing here inside a Nohrian encampment?"

"Apologies," the man said hastily. "A few weeks back, we established a trade line with the tribe. They grow a variety of vegetables and fruits in their villages, and inquired if they could sell them to us as a gesture of solidarity."

His words echoed the ones her father had said to her weeks ago during Communion: trade, to help lower Nohrian hackles. It seemed that he had wasted no time in laying the groundwork for the second rebellion.

"And what, pray," Leo said coldly, "did you promise in return for these vegetables? Weapons? Horses?"

The Captain was shocked. "Of course not, milord," he said, trying his best not to sound indignant. "Such stupidity would, quite literally, earn me the axe. And that is not even what they asked for. They wanted meat."

"Meat?"

"Yes, milord, meat. We have plenty in stores, and extra oxen besides. I suppose they liked what they saw in our provisionary herd."

"Why in the world would they ask for meat, of all things?" Leo asked.

"I couldn't say, milord. Perhaps they don't have herds of their own?"

Leo glanced back at Katonah. "True?"

She nodded reluctantly. Only in the recent centuries had the Earth Tribe deviated from the Wanderers' nomadic way of life and become sedentary. From what she'd heard, it had come about because of a discovery of farming. Yet, unlike Nohr, they had never found a way to round up, tame, and subsist on the herds of caribou that roamed the wilds of the Moorland Scythe. Normally, hunters went out and brought back enough meat to feed their families and then some. But no, they did not have permanent herds.

"Didn't anything of this arrangement appear to you as odd, Captain?" Camilla asked, gazing at the Earth Tribe warriors with an unreadable expression.

"Not unduly," the Captain said. "We were at first, of course, suspicious, but they seem genuinely eager for our meat. We always check them for weapons when they come in, and of course the merchandise they provide, but we've yet to come across anything that warrants suspicion."

"That doesn't matter," Leo snapped. "Any fool can see that it isn't smuggled weapons or poisoned product that makes this arrangement dangerous. You've let the enemy in the door, Captain, kept it cracked open for the rats. And it won't be long before they're streaming inside."

Katonah bristled. She didn't like how he compared her people to rats. It was scary, though, how quickly Leo had seen this situation for what it was.

The Captain, meanwhile, was quailing under Leo's harsh reprimand.

"I-I'm sorry, milord," he said, bowing once, twice, three times in quick succession. "We— I had thought of that, but—"

"But you decided to do it anyway, and hope for the best," Leo said without a shred of sympathy. "Why would a man with a decent amount of sense such as yourself, Captain, decide to do such a thing? Were you that desperate for greens?"

The Captain hesitated, pale-faced, as if struggling to decide whether or not to argue with the insufferable prince or just remain silent. He chose the courageous route: "Yes, milord, we were."

"And how is that?" Leo said. "Seeing as you receive shipments of fresh vegetables every two weeks? I've seen to that. This trade is foolish and unnecessary. And I'm starting to see you in the same light."

The poor man was starting to look like he wanted to run, and Katonah could scarcely blame him. Leo wasn't even looking at her, and she was having trouble not tensing up at his caustic verbal abuse. He was Xander's brother, all right.

To everyone's surprise, Elise spoke up, jabbing Leo in the back. "Leo, come on, don't be so hard on him. Don't you remember? The shipments of veggies you send to this camp are all imported from Hoshido. And wouldn't you crave a fresh, home-grown head of corn if you've been living on nothing but dried daikon for the past three months?"

Leo glowered at his sister, and the Captain nodded vigorously. "Milady is right," the man said. "There's only so much Hoshidan cuisine the men can stand. I've been getting complaints for weeks about the incessant daikon dishes and stews. The soldiers are becoming like deer with salt hunger, only they're searching for a certain kind of freshness: tomatoes, lettuce, corn, cucumbers, apples, oranges. And these staples the Earth Tribe can supply, for a reasonable price."

Leo curled his lip. "You too?"

The Captain nodded. "Three weeks ago, I ate an apple for the first time in four months. I swear I've never tasted anything so sweet."

Katonah couldn't help but give a secret smile. It was interesting to see Nohrians, with their fancy, seasoned dishes, suddenly hungering for the basic, freshest essentials after having taken them for granted. And the Earth Tribe too, wanting something tastier, more succulent, than their vegetables and fruits.

"Leo," Elise said. "Come on. Let them have some variety."

Leo became grumpy again. "I'll think about it."

That was about as good as they were going to get, so they carried on, moving through the gate. Katonah did not go unnoticed — all seven Earth Tribe warriors stood at attention as she passed. They did not speak, but she saw each of their eyes, saw respect for her sacrifice in them. They nodded as she passed, and she nodded back.

The sun was strong, but a cold breeze combing through the grassy hillside tempered the warmth, making Katonah shiver and pull her cloak more tightly around her. The watchtowers drew close, their shadows dark and sharp as they fell across the side of the hill. A small group of Earth Tribe warriors stood in between the two central towers, the same few that had been there last time: Tormod, Caitir, Jarlath. To Katonah's surprise, they seemed to be speaking to the men guarding the towers, the archers with the peerless aim. As they drew closer, Katonah heard Tormod bantering with one, exchanging hunting statistics: apparently, the sniper in the tower had hit a lot more deer from a lot farther than Tormod ever had, and he laughed at the foiled look on Tormod's face.

Katonah shook her head a little, unable to believe how quickly the Nohrians had fallen for such an obvious ploy. But she wondered if it, ultimately, would work. After all, regular foot soldiers were one thing, but they were contending with Xander's — Leo's — intellect and caution, and Leo was already threatening to shut down the operation.

The warriors came to attention when Katonah's party reached the top of the hill. Tormod's face spread into a pleased smile when he saw Katonah, even when Leo and Camilla casually slid in front of her like a curtain. They stopped a few yards away, leaving a stretch of shadowy grass separating the two groups. Anxiety churned in Katonah's belly as the air suddenly became tense — the archers in the towers seemed to notice, and took up their weapons, though they didn't load and point the bows with as much urgency as they had last time. It was though they didn't expect that anything was going to happen. Tormod had already halfway won them over.

"Greetings, Laird Tormod," Leo said after a moment. "I am Leo, if you recall, crown prince of Nohr."

Her father's eyes narrowed. "Where's your brother, boy?"

Leo smiled thinly. "Elsewhere. Today I serve as envoy to Lord Xander."

"I see." Tormod didn't sound as though he much cared. "Where is my warrior?"

Leo gestured to Ormond, surrounded by several soldiers behind him, and said, "In a minute, I will send him over. I hope you have the common sense not to try anything."

"Just as long as you don't, boy."

A soldier undid Ormond's chains, freeing his wrists, and, after sharing a look with Katonah, the man made his way over to Tormod and his party. Katonah's father barely looked at his fellow warrior as he came to stand on their side.

"And my daughter?" he asked. "May I speak with her?"

Leo stiffened—Katonah could tell that he'd been hoping Tormod wouldn't ask that. "I'm afraid not," he said, voice acidic. He was telling Tormod to back off, but Katonah's father was not one for a reluctant retreat. He was at least, if not more, stubborn than Iseabail on his best day.

"She's my only daughter," the laird insisted. "I'm not asking for much, boy. I just want to make sure that she's all right. No tricks. You have my word."

"You have your answer," Leo snapped.

Tormod's face turned into a mask of sorrow. "You don't have any children, do you, son?" he asked, voice bitter. "Only a person that doesn't would be so cruel to a father. She's my only child, can't you see that? Seeing her isn't enough. Hearing her speak isn't enough. Please." The word made Katonah flinch — only when her father was desperate did he ever utter that word. "You can't be as cold as your brother. I just want to hold her. Please."

Leo curled his lip. "If you think to flatter me into—"

Elise punched him in the back. With a grunt of surprise, Leo pitched forward. The move was so sudden that it made Katonah jump.

"Elise!" Leo hissed, rubbing his back. "What the hell—"

"He's not trying to flatter you, dummy," Elise said. Her words were easy, but her tone and face were not—she was glaring at Leo, with every bit the aggression that the other Nohrian siblings used to cow Katonah. "He's pleading with you. Let him hug Kat, sheesh."

"Are you out of your mind?" Leo snarled. "You heard what Xander said. If he finds out that I condoned a breach like this—"

"So we won't tell him," Elise said, shrugging. She glanced up at Camilla. "Right?"

Camilla shrugged too, like she didn't care either way.

"Okay, come on over, Laird Tormod!" Elise called.

Tormod had watched the exchange expressionlessly, but at the sudden invitation, he looked unsure, wary of a trap. But when Leo sighed and beckoned impatiently, he slowly made his way over, take every step carefully, as if a fast walk would prompt the archers into action. Katonah could barely hold herself still as he came nearer — she practically flung herself into his arms when he reached their circle.

She was aware that everyone was watching, some impatient, some not, but she didn't care. She was in Tormod's arms, and for the first true time in months, she felt safe, completely and utterly content. The Communion had come close to this, but not close enough. Her father was warm, smelled like earth and sun and wind, and she breathed it in deeply, unabashedly. He held her tightly, almost desperately, and soon, the tears came on both sides — silent from Tormod, but accompanied by deep sobs from Katonah.

Gods! If only she could stay with him...

A long minute passed, she and her father clinging to each other tightly, but the embrace felt as fleeting as a breath of wind. Too soon, Leo said, "General."

He was telling her to step back, but that only made her arms tighten around her father. And made him tighten his arms around her.

"General." Leo's voice came harder this time. A warning.

Pain washed through Katonah's chest, jamming her throat. Slowly, trembling, knowing that she didn't have a choice, she released her grip on her father. She began to pull back, but Tormod didn't let her go far — he squeezed her back hard against him.

"Tormod." Leo's command was now dangerous. "Release the General. Now."

"I can't." Tormod voice rang deep with anguish.

Leo's response was pitiless and immediate — he ripped his sword out of his sheathe and positioned the tip at Tormod's side, at rib height, a place where one good thrust would puncture her father's side and pierce the laird's heart. Panic quickened Katonah's breath as Camilla came up on the laird's other side, pushing her hand axe under Tormod's chin. Green whiskers fell away, snatched into the air by the wind.

"Do as he says, Laird Tormod," the woman said coldly. "Don't think that I'll hesitate to sever your head from your shoulders. Ask you daughter."

Katonah sucked in a breath, remembering how Ailig had fallen to pieces to this woman's axe. She could not imagine the agony at such a fate befalling her own father.

"Father," she whispered. "Please. You have to let me go."

Tormod began to weep, shaking. "How can I? How can I give you back to them when I have you now?"

"Tormod, I won't ask again," Leo growled. "Step back." When Tormod didn't reply, he roared, "Now!"

"Father, please!" Katonah cried.

Looking anguished, Tormod released her. Leo grabbed her shoulder and shoved her back towards Camilla and Elise. The younger girl steadied her, and wound her fingers through hers when Katonah began to cry again.

"Not another step," Leo growled at Tormod, who'd begun to move forward again. "This meeting is over."

Tormod's eyes shifted rapidly — from pain, to fury, to hate, then back to pain. "I was wrong," he snarled, wiping at cheeks awash with tears. "You are crueler than your brother."

"Don't blame me for pain you brought onto yourself," Leo snapped. "You knew such an intimate contact would be fleeting, and yet you embraced her anyway. The only one who's cruel here is you, Laird Tormod." He lowered his sword very slowly, until his sword arm came to hang by his side. But he did not relax his grip on the hilt — the way he repositioned his fingers told Katonah that he was ready to slash it upward at a moment's notice.

"Go," Leo said, "now. Before you bring you and your daughter even more pain."

For a moment, Katonah's father didn't move, the hatred in his eyes rivaling the heat of the sun. Then he looked at Katonah once again, and they darkened in sorrow. Tears leaked down her cheeks as she watched him turn and move slowly back towards the warriors waiting between the towers. He didn't look back.

Leo sheathed his sword and turned, treating Elise to a withering glare. "Satisfied?" he asked her.

(/\)

Katonah felt hollow on the ride back into Nohr, hollow and cold. Her eyes wanted to cry, but she had few tears left, and whatever ones she did shed were snatched away by the wind. Pain tightened her chest at the memory of the grief in her father's eyes, the pained hunch of his shoulders as he'd returned to the moor.

In a twisted way, Leo was right. They shouldn't have been allowed to embrace.

"I'm sorry about all of that back there," Elise said suddenly. Her voice was soft, and over the wind, Katonah almost didn't hear her. But the pain in the girl's voice was clear — it surprised Katonah.

"I didn't think it would go like that," the girl continued. "It's my fault. Your tears."

Katonah shook her head vigorously. "No," she said. "Don't apologize...Elise. I should be the one thanking you. That was the first contact I've had with my father in months. Thank you for helping us in that way."

Elise shrugged. "It was the right thing to do. When I saw that look in the Laird's eyes, I knew it would be criminal to not allow you two to reunite, even if only briefly." She paused. "I wish I'd had with my parents what you and your father have."

"What's that?" Katonah asked, tightening her arms around Elise's waist.

Elise shrugged. "Love. Solidarity. My parents never had that. My father...you know my father, King Garon? Xander said you know about him. Well...he was a tyrant, and had absolutely no capacity to love a child. And my mother..." The girl trailed off. There was anger in the silence, and it made Katonah wonder.

"Did something happen to her?" she prompted gently.

Elise shook her head. "No, no. My mother was a noblewoman in the Nohrian court, and exactly like my father in his indifference." She laughed bitterly. "It's like...she gave birth to me, but didn't have the equipment to care for me."

Katonah swallowed. "Did she treat Xander, Leo, and Camilla the same way?"

Elise glanced back at her. "Oh. You don't know. We were born to different mothers."

She sucked in an incredulous breath. "What?"

The girl nodded. "Queen Katerina, my father's actual equal in terms of rank, was Xander's mother. But she died not long after — childbirth complications. Afterwards, my father...he took several mistresses, noblewomen that didn't actually ascend to the queen's throne. And thus..." She shrugged. "Me, Leo, Camilla."

Bile coated the back of Katonah's throat. She'd never heard of such before, multiple partners. Not all at once, perhaps, but without proper marriage? Without love? She imagined her father taking on several more women in quick successful and felt nauseous. Her father was still deeply in love with Sorcha, dead or alive — he would never do such a thing.

Yet, in Nohr, it was permissible. At the expense of the children, it seemed.

"Elise, I'm so sorry," she said. Even to her, the apology sounded inadequate in regards to such suffering. "That couldn't have been easy."

Elise gave a small smile. "Well, one good thing came out of it: my siblings. They're all the family I need. I'll take them over my parents any day of the week." She glanced back at her again. "Even Xander," she said solemnly.

Katonah didn't reply. Just swallowed and looked away.

It was a moment before the princess spoke again. "I know you don't like him, Katonah, but he's not that bad, not as bad as you think. Trust me."

She became uncomfortable. "Is it that obvious?"

"To anyone with a brain," Elise said, patting her arm. "But really. I know what you think of him — whenever I say his name, it's all over your face — and I totally understand why you think of him that way; you're justified in being afraid of him, of loathing him, even. And I know that you're being forced into this, and that's another great justification for hating Xander. But since there's no easy way out of this arrangement, I think you should give him a real chance. You might actually find that you like him. Xander's a gem with multiple facets. He's shown you only one side of himself so far, and that is the king of Nohr, the unshakable descendant of the Dusk Dragon. Trust me, it's a façade he needs in order to run this country. But soon, he'll reveal to you the better part. The likeable part. The part that all of his followers love."

Katonah tried to imagine that, a likeable facet to King Xander. It was hard — whenever she imagined him, it was the stony-faced, dragon-like monarch who could not easily be fooled.

"If he does have another side to him," Katonah said slowly, "then why hasn't he shown it to me yet?"

Elise sighed. "Internal problems. They make his hard side stay up."

"Internal as in...his psyche? His castle? Or as in Nohr itself?"

"The latter."

"What's going on?" Did it have anything to do with the rebels Katonah had heard about on more than one occasion?

"Nothing serious," Elise assured her. "I think Xander has a plan to deal with it. Once he does, he'll have a lot more time on his hands, and you two will get a serious chance to get to know each other."

Katonah couldn't say that she was looking forward to it. It's not that she didn't believe Elise, it was just that...she didn't believe Elise.

For a long while, all was silent save for the air passing beneath their wyvern's wings. The mountains in the distance grew ever closer, giants of cold stone. Katonah's behind began to ache from staying on the saddle for so long. She was also anxious, anxious because she wanted to ask Elise something, but she was afraid of the answer.

Finally, she worked up the courage. "Elise?"

"Mmm?"

"We're not going back to the Northern Fortress are we?"

The princess looked back at her, surprised. "How did you know?"

"The luggage. All of that packing. I had a feeling that we weren't coming back."

"You're sharp, Kat." Elise shook her head. "And you're right. We're not going back. Xander's orders."

Katonah's belly churned—part of her, a very small part of her, was a little excited at the thought of going somewhere other than that isolated castle on the top of a cold cliff-top. Another part of her was so anxious that it wanted to be sick.

"Where?" she asked.

Elise grinned widely. "Windmire," she said.

--

Were any of you surprised that Elise is actually 17 in this book? Anankos's War (or the events of FE Fates) was 5 years ago. So here's how old everyone actually is:

Katonah- 22

Leo- During the war: 19; Currently: 24

Elise- During the war: 12; Currently: 17

Camilla- During the war: 22; Currently: 27

Xander- During the war: 27; Currently: 32

I know: that age gap between Xander and Katonah! XD Also, ages for Hoshidan royalty:

Takumi- During the war: 18; Currently: 23

Sakura- During the war: 14; Currently: 19

Hinoka- During the war: 20; Currently: 25

Ryoma: During the war: 25; Currently: 30

Yikes, this chapter was long! But it sets the stage for the next part of Katonah's adventure: out of isolation and into Nohrian society!