“Who are you?” Rosamund asked, with a laugh, as Liv slipped into the steaming hot spring they’d been led to by Keri’s cousin Sohvis. Steam rose from the pool in a column, up into the cold winter air, and Liv had no sooner stripped off her clothing than she scampered across the rocks and climbed in.

“What?” Liv asked, turning about to face the other woman, letting the almost-painful heat of the water soak into her bones.

“You,” Rose said, standing near the edge of the pool, in the light of the lanterns hanging from the trees and the ring overhead. “You’re the girl who never wears trousers, who didn’t like showing her skin during the King Tides – and you just got bare as a newborn without a second thought.”

“It’s different!” Liv protested. She let herself drop under the water for a moment, then came up again with her hair plastered back over her head. “This is bathing, and there’s no boys around.”

“Arjun’s on the other side of those evergreens,” Rose pointed out.

“Trust me, we don’t have to worry about Arjun,” Liv said. She couldn’t help but grin. “Not only is he completely uninterested, he spent weeks cutting me open and carving my bones up. I can’t really pretend I have any secrets from him, at this point. Anyway, don’t just stand there shivering. Get in.”

“Fine. I don’t see how this is better than a bath in a copper tub, though,” Rose groused. She unbuckled her swordbelt and carefully laid it down on a wooden table, which had been carried over, along with two towels and robes at Sohvis’ order before he left them. Liv’s dress, on the other hand, was a rumpled pile of cloth on the stones where she’d left it. Then, the dark-haired girl hopped from one foot to the other as she pulled her boots off.

Liv couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.

“Shouldn’t you at least turn around until I get in?” Rose asked. She pulled off her stockings, balled them up, and shoved them into the top of her boots. While Liv had accepted a clean dress at Al’Fenthia, Rose must have badgered someone until they washed her old trousers and found her a new linen shirt, instead.

“I don’t think I will,” Liv said. She had the same feeling as that night she’d pulled Cade into her room, only she hadn’t had any wine to drink at all. That delirious feeling of throwing all her anxiety and worries aside, as if she was throwing herself off a cliff.

Rose raised her eyebrows, then seemed to come to a decision. She pulled her shirt up over head and threw it onto the table, then unlaced her trousers and wiggled them down over her hips. When she’d at last removed everything, she simply stood there for a moment, at the edge of the pool, somewhere between the cold night air and the steam.

“You are beautiful, you know?” Liv said. Perhaps not in the way that young nobleman at masques in Freeport might want, of course. Rosamund’s body wasn’t delicate. It was the body of an athlete, a fencer, with muscular legs that could drive her forward in a lightning-fast lunge.

“Nice to hear it,” Rose said, sat down on the wet stones, and slipped into the water. “Oh! This feels strange. And it smells different.”

“It’s the sulfur in the water,” Liv explained. “If we had more light you’d see how the stones have all been bleached an odd color.”

Rose submerged herself up to the neck, and the two of them drifted closer together. “Alright, fine, I admit it – this is better than a tub. You had one of these the entire time you were growing up?”

Liv shook her head. “I wasn’t allowed to use it when I was a scullion,” she explained. “That came later. When I was a kid, my mother just gave me a bath in a wooden tub, like everyone else.”

“It’s odd to think of you scrubbing dishes,” Rose admitted. “Now I’d picture you just using magic to scour them clean somehow.”

“There’s an archmage spell for you,” Liv joked. “The pots and pans spell. Something with Vær and Ved, for hot water, and maybe a bit of your Cem, to scour everything with sand.”

“You could probably figure the entire thing out right now, couldn’t you?” Rose asked, shaking her head. “Without any books or notes or anything.”

“I could not!” Liv protested. “I’ve never bothered to see if there are Vædic words for pot or pan.”

Rose threw her head back and laughed, and the sight and sound of it made Liv happy. Before she could have second thoughts about it, Liv pushed her way forward through the water, until their bodies were almost touching. For a moment, they said nothing, and then Liv found herself leaning in, until her lips touched Rose’s lips. Liv closed her eyes, and felt the other girl’s arms around her, wet hands on her bare back beneath the surface of the water.

“No,” Keri’s voice broke through the moment, carrying past the screen of evergreens between two pools. “No, I don’t think I’m alright at all.”

Liv pulled her head back, and turned toward the sound of the voice. She couldn’t see anything of the other pool, between the dim light and the growth that had must have been cultivated specifically for privacy.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Arjun asked. “We don’t know each other well, but I think sometimes it helps just to say things out loud.”

Liv turned back to Rose and silently mouthed the words, “let’s get out.” Together, the two young women lifted themselves up, dripping onto the rocks that encircled the spring, and wrapped themselves first in thick towels, then in the robes that had been left for them. They gathered up their boots and clothes, Liv’s wand and Rose’s sword, and an Elden servant girl who must have been waiting for them suddenly appeared to help carry their things.

They hurried along to the manor before their wet hair could freeze, leaving the two men to their conversation.

☙

Master Grenfell came to Liv’s dreams that evening.

She turned at the sound of the old man clearing his throat, and the steaming pool beneath the night sky wavered, then vanished, replaced by her old teacher’s study. Liv felt Cei stir in the back of her mind, and with the barest touch of the magic, she was wearing a conservative white dress, complete with a bodice and boots and even her wand sheathed at her hip.

“My apologies,” Liv said. In her dreams, at least, she wasn’t betrayed by a blush.

Grenfell waved a hand. “It turns out that the first thing one must get used to when using dream magic is the possibility of encountering the fantasies of an unconscious mind,” he said.

“I – actually already had that problem, myself,” Liv admitted, remembering the first time she’d gotten a glimpse of her friends’ dreams during their stay at the rift in the mountains. “Nightmares, and other things. Thank you for imprinting Sidonie with the word.”

“We need every advantage we can get,” Grenfell grumbled. “The idea of teaching Cei to journeymen proved an effective bribe for Genevieve Arundell, but it also gives me an excuse to share power with you, your friend Sidonie, and even Lady Beatrice.”

“Sidonie told me you had word from Freeport,” Liv said. A padded bench appeared behind her, and she took a seat. It looked and felt like one of the pieces from the sitting room at Acton House. “That Benedict was sending his new army north.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Yes. You recall my nephew, Isaac?”

Liv nodded. “I assumed he would be your source at the capital. It’s dangerous, though. If Benedict or his mother find out he’s telling you about their plans, being a baron won’t save him.”

“Isaac is fully aware of the risks,” Grenfell assured her. “He’s already sent all of his family back to Ashford. And if Benedict moves against them, they’ll evacuate to Whitehill.”

“Tell Julianne that she’ll have support from the Eld,” Liv promised. “Four houses, at least, and supplies will be coming from Al’Fenthia shortly. Whatever you can do to clear the mine road between the waystone and Whitehill would help.” She cocked her head to one side as something occurred to her. “Has anyone ever considered using Vær to pave roads with self-heating stones? It would clear away the snow as soon as it fell.”

“May the trinity someday give us a world where you are free to pave the kingdom in magical roads,” Master Grenfell said. “Unfortunately, the world we are in now requires that we prepare for war.”

“I’m at Mountain Home right now,” Liv told him. “As soon as we’ve had a chance to fit some new armor and pack supplies, we’re headed up north to the Tomb of Celris.”

“The rift where your aunt died.”

“There’s something at the bottom that we need,” Liv said. “My grandfather told me about it before he died. A key. We’re going to need it in Varuna. Ideally, we climb down into the rift, get the key, and then use the waystone to meet up with my father. The plan is to take the rift where Staivis, the Lord of Stone was killed. It gives us a foothold within striking distance of the mountains where Ractia is. We secure that waystone before flood season in the mountains, then shift to reinforce Whitehill.”

“If nothing goes wrong,” Grenfell pointed out. “Are you certain this key is worth risking your life for? If you came back to Whitehill now, you’d be certain to be here when Benedict’s army marches for the pass.”

“I’ll be there,” Liv promised. “Don’t worry about that. My real question is what Julianne intends to do. Let’s say we hold the pass. Benedict’s army is defeated. Does she march on Freeport?”

Grenfell shook his head. “Her current thought is simply to declare Whitehill an independent duchy, and break off from Lucania. If we can make it too costly for Benedict to conquer us, he will have to let it go eventually.”

“It makes him look weak,” Liv pointed out. “If he lets us go, what’s to stop Duke Falkenrath?”

“And yet, seven years ago he showed himself a man willing to compromise,” Grenfell pointed out. “He won’t come to the table while he thinks he can win, of course, but once he’s already lost an army, I suspect he’ll make peace.”

“No.” Liv shook her head. “Back then he had to be careful of his father, and he was afraid of what Archmagus Loredan would do. His father is dead, and Caspian’s been displaced as head of the guild. None of the things that held him back last time are going to matter now. I think she needs to get used to the idea that this isn’t going to end until one of the two of them is dead.”

“Even if she killed Benedict, he has an heir,” Master Grenfell pointed out. “And they’ve announced that Princess Milisant is to wed to Lord Commander Howe this winter, before the snows melt. They’re already taking steps to secure the succession.”

Liv frowned. Triss hadn’t said anything to Liv about being pregnant when they’d seen each other at Coral Bay and then Valegard – but then again, they hadn’t exactly had a lot of time to sit down and talk to each other. “Is Triss…?”

“You’d be better off asking Mistress Trafford,” Grenfell told her. “I don’t know, Liv. If she is, she hasn’t told anyone yet. But if she was, she wouldn’t have gone into the Foundry Rift, would she?”

“No.” Liv sighed. “Which still leaves me second in line after Matthew.”

“All the more reason we want you back here in Whitehill,” her old teacher said.

“As soon as I’ve taken care of everything else,” Liv said. “But I promise you, I’ll be there when the attack comes.” In fact, an idea slipped into the back of her mind as she said that. A precaution that might delay her slightly in the short term, but would make certain that she could keep her word.

“I’ll tell Duchess Julianne everything you’ve said to me,” Grenfell said. “And I will bring word from her as soon as I can.”

Liv nodded. “Good. Tell my mother I miss her, please.”

“Of course.”

☙

In the morning, Liv and her friends were hosted at the high table for a sumptuous breakfast. There was smoked salmon mixed with fluffy cooked eggs, seasoned with black pepper and chives; fresh bread and jam; bacon; and chopped potatoes that had been spiced and fried in butter.

Keri was conspicuously absent.

Ilmari ka Väinis, his father, put on a valiant effort to play the part of a welcoming host, but on the whole the entire affair was quite awkward. Ilmari himself shared an anecdote that had Liv smiling - a story of how he and Liv’s grandfather, when they were much younger, had gone out fishing together and managed to be carried far out to sea by a rising storm.

Unfortunately, Keri’s Aunt Väina took every opportunity to pester Liv about her marriage prospects - though of course that wasn’t quite the correct term in the north.

“The first match is more about producing a child than anything else,” the old woman droned on, while Liv fixed all of her attention carefully on her food. “No one expects that one will find a companion for the rest of their life so young, of course. But you’ll find that seventy years or so goes by very quickly, and one has a much higher tolerance for sleepless nights with an infant while one is young than later in life. I’m surprised your grandmother hasn’t set you up with anyone yet.”

Liv plastered a smile on her face and looked up. “I’m not even considering that sort of thing until after the war against Ractia is over,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice pleasant.

“All the more reason not to delay,” Väina pressed her. “A three-year pregnancy won’t take you out of the fighting for long at all – it may even be quicker, with your human heritage. And then you could leave the child behind while you go back to fighting. If something happened to you now, the House of Syvä would lose their next generation, and that would be a tragedy.”

“You know,” the old woman said, “my son Sohvis has already shown himself to be a wonderful father. Why not make a match with he and Rika here? I’m certain that Reikis here would enjoy having a younger brother or sister.”

Liv risked a glance over to Keri’s kwenim - former kwenim, clearly, based on what she’d caught the night before. “Rei is Keri’s son, though, not Sohvis’s,” she pointed out. “So he isn’t actually a father yet. And if we – they wouldn’t actually be siblings.”

Rika looked like she’d bit into a particularly bitter lemon, while Sohvis was now the one examining his food carefully. In the meanwhile, Rosamund was practically vibrating in her seat on Liv’s left. It was so obvious that Liv wondered whether there might be an accidental earthquake or avalanche in the near future. The only person who seemed completely unaware of the tension was the little boy.

“What kind of magic do you have?” Rei asked, in Vakansa.

“My family’s word of power is Cel,” Liv answered, grateful for any escape from the previous topic of conversation. “I can make things out of ice.” She decided to keep things simple, for the moment.

Rei’s eyes lit up. “Can you make statues?” he asked. “Or a fort?”

“I can do both,” Liv assured him. “In fact, I used to make warriors of ice all the time for my brother.”

Rika stood up from her place at the high table. “My apologies,” she said. “It’s time for my son’s lessons. Come along, Rei.”

Liv decided that if it was now polite for the other woman to leave, she wouldn’t give any insult by following. “And we should be meeting Keri to speak with the armorer,” she said in Lucanian, rising from her own seat. Rose and Arjun got up to either side of her.

“Of course,” Ilmari said, rising. “I will show you the way.”

Once they had left the great hall behind, and were walking through the wood paneled corridors of the manor in some degree of privacy, the old man spoke again. “I feel that I should apologize,” Ilmari said. “Guests should not be subjected to family strife.”

“I know things are different here,” Rose said. “But I’m really having a hard time understanding this. That’s Keri’s wife and son in there, and now she’s left him for this other guy? And everyone is just alright with this? In Lucania there’d be a duel by now.”

“Things are different when you live for as long as we do,” Ilmari explained. “We teach our children to cherish a love while it lasts, and not to try to grasp after it when it has gone.”

“Well, I’m not sure it works,” Rose continued. “Did you see your son’s eyes when we got here? It looked like someone had ripped his heart out.”

“Life can be painful,” Ilmari said, his voice even and kind. “Would it be less painful if Rika had died in childbirth? Or if Keri had perished in Varuna, on some far away battlefield?”

“Right, but those are things outside of anyone’s control,” Rose went on. “She chose to abandon her husband, and the father of her child, to go with some other man. While he was off fighting to protect everyone! I can’t – I can’t see how that makes any sense. And then that old woman thinks that what, Liv would just line up to be his mistress?”

They rounded a corner, and Liv reached out to touch Rose on the arm. She put a finger to her lips, and nodded in the direction of an open door, through which Keri and his two warriors could be seen sorting through a great quantity of armor.

“We can talk about this later,” Liv said.

For a moment, Rose looked as if she was going to object, but when she glanced in Keri’s direction, she let out a heavy sigh and nodded.