For the first time in hours, voices rise outside the door. I recoil. My mind has conjured up so many convoluted, condemning scenarios, I no longer know what kind of reality to believe in. Schemes dance within schemes, the world reduced to one room and outside as unknowable as the universe. Heart trembling, teeth gritted, I tiptoe back into the living room. I try to pick out pieces of their conversation, but all I can hear is the memory of the soldier I knocked out calling for the Queen in Morineause.

A fist pounds on the door, and I raise my poker higher.

"By order of the crown, open this door!"

Relief cascades over me like a waterfall in a dry stretch of cave. Aster. The poker slips from my white-knuckled grip. He was dead. I'd known as surely as you can know anything you refuse to believe. He was dead, the castle was taken, and we were trapped here until either they did break down the door or we died of starvation—

The door rattles again. "Open up!"

I start forward, hope a torch in the darkness of my mind's cell. He's alive. The Kadranians didn't take the—

I pause, straightening. "The castle is safe?"

"Yes!" His voice is harsh and angry, and my suspicion spikes.

"Who's there with you?"

"The guards, maid. Now open this door!"

Certainty settles solid as metal, and I struggle with the pieces of furniture in the barricade. There's no one holding a knife to Aster's neck because he wouldn't betray his sister even if there were.

I'm pulling away the tea table when Aster says, "You will let me in to see my Queen."

"Just a moment!" Weaving through the mess of furniture, I unlock the door.

The moment the lock clicks, Aster, without a glance at me, pushes in and hurries into the bedroom. My disbelieving eyes sneak glances at him as I close the door back and relock it.

"Did Illesiarr tell you what to do for her? Has she woken?"

I come into the bedroom, where Aster stands over Selenia, gaze worried and searching. My eyes flick over him, still trying to convince themselves he really is here. His hair is wet, both his eyes blackened. Bandaging lies across his nose, but his clothes and skin are clean. He's fine. We're all fine. I force my words level, as though an even tone can straighten out the rest of the world. "Illesiarr said she was stable. I've looked after her, but she's not woken. Some broth would probably do her good, though."

Suddenly, he looks up at me, blinking as if coming out of a haze. "Leavi."

"Yes?" I step closer, searching his eyes. What dark world are you trapped in that you didn't know you were talking to me until just now?

"You're the maid Illesiarr sent." He pauses for just a second, then says quietly, "Yes, I suppose that makes sense. You were there."

"Aster." I step forward, worried, and take his hand. "Are you alright?"

He stares at our hands with a disconcertingly blank expression. Finally, he tears his gaze away, eyes making it up to mine. Some clarity returns to his face. Then just, "Yes." He turns back to his sister.

I let his limp hand slide out of my grasp. It's like we're all in a nightmare we keep thinking we'll rise out of, but then we slip back into the dark hands of sleep. The impulse runs through me to embrace him. Instead, I watch him mourn for the sister who's still alive. "What happened?" The question is vague, but it fits the haze of dreams, and I let him interpret it as he will.

"They were coming in through the way I escaped. Amarris used the information in my cloak."

His words make little sense to me, like once when I used to only know pieces of the language he spoke. But I don't need to understand everything, and right now, I doubt he'd tell me. "But you stopped them?"

"Yes."

That word is the blankest of all, and I can't imagine what horrors lie beneath its placid surface. Memories of bodies and blood rise with a chill up my spine. "Thank you," I say softly. What I'm thanking him for, even I'm unsure, but I mean it. Thank you for saving your castle. Thank you for letting me know it's safe again. Thank you for staying alive.

It seems to catch him off guard, and he looks back at me, his too-relaxed face searching mine. Finally, he steps away from the bed, saying, "I'll get a maid to bring broth. Thank you for watching her." He takes a few steps toward the door. "And quit locking the guards out. Please," he adds belatedly, as if realizing that his tone is not that of a friend but of a prince giving orders to a servant.

I wrap my arms around myself. "I only locked it before to keep her safe."

He glances back. "I know." He pauses. "Thank you."

My head dips, and I move past him to unlock the door. Before he leaves, I murmur, "Is there anything you need?"

His steps stall. "I'm fine." He's anything but; he leaves anyway. I close the door behind him and leave it unlocked.

I spend the day tending to Selenia, but there's not much I can do for her. She never stirs. My mind drifts numbly, and I work on small things—watching her breathe, feeding her broth, stoking the fire, anything to keep me in the present. The danger has passed, but here alone again, I'm still stuck in the shadow of a nightmare. I shake the dark thought and relight a dying candle.

Toward evening, the suite's door opens. "Maed?"

I startle, berate myself, and rise to open the bedroom door. The guard stands in the other doorway, a piece of paper in his hand.

"Yes?"

"You're being relieved. The Queen's maidservant will sit with Her Majesty."

I shake my head. "The physician asked me to look after her."

The guard's hand raises. "Captain's orders, maed." He steps just inside the door, and the timid girl who had been with us when Aster's mother died hurries into the room. The guard sweeps his hand out, obviously expecting me to leave.

I look between him and Selenia. The maid is at her side now, taking her hand gently. Candlelight catches the silver mark on the back of it.

Fear for the woman I protected battles relief. Though I'd like nothing more than to collapse in my own bed, Aster wanted me to look after his sister. My lips press together. I suppose he didn't actually say that, though. He just didn't seem to expect me to leave.

"Maed?" the guard prompts. He's being polite now, but he trusts the validity of his orders. He'll escort me out of here if he has to.

I nod and leave, steps stiff as I walk down the hall. Aster should know about this. Or maybe he does already, and I would do nothing but bother him.

Even so, I knock on his door as I pass.

"Just a moment," his tired voice calls. Guilt trickles into my conscience at creating extra work for him, even if it is just to open the door. He does, shoulders sagging and hair mussed, but a neutral smile pastes itself onto his face. "Leavi," he greets before worry etches his eyes. "Sela?"

"With her maid. I'm not here to bother you," I explain even though it's a stupid explanation. If I am bothering him, then that's what I'm here doing regardless of intention, and if I'm not, then I shouldn't have said it anyway. "I just wanted you to know."

The worried lines remain. "With Maera? Under whose orders?"

"The Captain's."

His lips tighten. Wordlessly, he locks his door behind him. Turning down the hall, he says, "I don't suppose they happened to mention where he is, did they?"

"No. The guard had his orders in hand."

I follow after him as he turns back onto the hall with the guards. They straighten.

"You are to let Maed Riveaux remain with the Queen."

The man dips his head, but says, "Milord, First Officer Mellise read us our orders. We have them here." He pulls out a piece of paper with a blue seal marking its face and hands it to Aster.

He reads it, then folds it crisply in half. "New information has been obtained, and you will allow her to remain with the Queen, at least for now. Do you understand?" His words are sharp and precise as a scalpel.

The soldier swallows, noticeably uncomfortable, but he stands straight. "Milord, the orders are signed with the Captain's own seal. It would take his seal to break them." His head bows, as though trying to show Aster respect even as he contradicts him.

Aster's eyes flash. "Your job is to protect the Queen, and I tell you that the physician's assistant needs to remain with her for now. I am on my way to speak with the Captain, but every moment that you quarrel with me allows the Queen another moment of potential danger."

The soldier's head snaps up, worried now. "Meret, Kinsette, go stand guard over the Queen."

"And don't let the servant feed her anything," Aster adds.

"Yes, milord," echo the two hurrying into the suite.

Aster turns to me. "Remain here, please."

"Yes, milord." The title always tastes strange coming out of my mouth, but I can't imagine the insult it would be to call him anything so familiar as his name.

He leaves, the edges of his cloak darting behind him like birds preparing for a storm.