As Tor and Sybil loaded the carriage for our long journey to the Hiems estate, I felt my stomach turn.

  In my hands was a small leather satchel. It was quite light, but inside it was the heaviest piece of paper I had ever carried: a contract, underwritten by the Faraldi merchant company, for the payment of seven thousand Lombardi gold coins to Adrian upon the consummation of our marriage.

  Tor and Sybil were counting off a team lift to raise the oaken marriage chest. It was a rich, dark wood, and the carvings upon it were the same ornate vines that often represented the Printemps family. It was stuffed to the brim with richly dyed cloth and linens.

  Their comrade, Ruben, was holding a small iron box, no bigger than a loaf of bread. Inside it were thirteen finger-length gold bars and a small bag of coins. Despite its small size, the box was nearly as heavy as his armor; the same Lombardi-style jack, dyed an inky black, that Tor and Sybil wore.

  My dowry. The riches that Erika had promised who knows what to acquire. My life's worth. The equivalent of ten thousand Lombardi gold coins, and yet small enough to fit in the storage compartment of the Hiems' family carriage.

  As I stood there, clutching the satchel and trying to hold myself together, Tor approached me with a hand to his brow.

  "Well, m'lady. She's all loaded. Anythin' else ye need before we 'ead off?"

  I looked back one last time at the Queen's palace.

  We were leaving in a bit of a hurry, to avoid any more "invitations" from Her Majesty. This very morning, Duchess Hiems had sent word that she approved of the terms that Adrian and I had negotiated. By afternoon, Erika had already finalized her deal with the Faraldis to procure the agreed upon dowry.

  "Feels a bit like we're running away. I guess that's exactly what we're doing."

  There hadn't been time to say goodbye to William.

  "No, Tor. Let's be on our way before we face any interruptions."

  "Aye, m'lady."

  And with that, he swung himself up into the driver's seat to act as our coachman. Ruben handed the box off to Sybil before sitting himself on the back of the carriage, and Sybil joined Erika and I in the cabin.

  With a short slap of the reins, we were off.

  ---

  Once we were finally past the gates of the palace, I let out a sigh of relief. The guards had stopped us, briefly, to confirm the Hiems' family seal against the paperwork Tor carried, and I had worried that we were due for another interruption by the Queen.

  But that was behind us, now. The cold, dirty streets of Doromare were a welcome sight compared to the Queen's garden. I turned to Sybil, eager to speak with her again after our time apart.

  "So, what did you and Tor do in the city while we were here?"

  Sybil put a finger to her lips and glanced over at Erika, considering whether to answer. Erika gave a small nod, which I only barely caught.

  "Well. Spending money, mostly. Erika here sent over a hefty bonus, on account of my getting injured on that last job. Rather kind of her."

  She looked up with a reminiscent gaze, letting out a pleased whistle.

  "The men here sure do know how to treat a lady when she's heavy with coin. Sad to see them go once she's light, though."

  Erika gave her a light, playful kick, but I was still curious.

  "Wait, you spent your money on men?"

  "Heh. Yes, Sophia. Skilled ones. Quite adept at keeping me nice and warm on these cold nights. Why, just the other night, I..."

  Erika gave her another, slightly less playful kick. Sybil pretended that it hurt, giving her leg an exaggerated rub before continuing.

  "Of course, it wasn't all fun. We've been trying to keep tabs on your Father, but he cleaned up nearly everyone who knew anything."

  She made a neck slitting motion with her finger.

  "Man's not right in the head. Best Tor could figure, from asking who's left of the Desrosiers, Ol' Harry escaped on a boat headed south. Probably as far as the southfolk colonies, but maybe even further."

  I looked down at my hands, pressing my thumbs together until they hurt.

  "Oh. That's... a bit less fun than I was expecting."

  "So Father's headed south. I suppose his interest in the colonies was more than mercantile, after all."

  Erika reached over to put her hand over mine, lacing her fingers to stop me from hurting myself.

  "It's not fun, Sophie. But I promised you that I wouldn't hide this from you anymore."

  "...Sorry, my lady. I forgot that you're still new to this sort of thing."

  Sybil reached over to tussle my hair a bit.

  "No, Sybil, it's okay. You don't need to apologize. I just didn't realize you'd be working."

  I reached up to grab her hand as it withdrew, and inspected it carefully. Sybil raised an eyebrow, but didn't resist.

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  It was rough, and covered with scars on the back. There were callouses from where she held her sword, and the muscles were strong and defined.

  But when I compared it to mine, they were nearly the same size.

  "Could you... teach me how to protect myself? I don't want a repeat of last time."

  "There won't be a repeat of last time," interjected Erika, but Sybil's expression showed real consideration.

  "It would certainly help if you could at least fend someone off long enough for one of us to intervene... and Eri, we're carrying a ridiculous amount of cargo. In a ducal carriage. You can't promise we won't get attacked when we're a shiny white box full of gold."

  Erika paused for a long while, fixing my hair while she thought.

  "The attack last time wasn't random. Agnes paid for it."

  I reeled at that. "What?"

  "I don't know if she intended for it to go as bad as it did, but she's the one who paid the coachman. It took a while to track down, but I managed to get a look at the family ledgers during William's audit and they point that direction."

  Sybil tilted her head back and forth, considering the news.

  "It'd make more sense if a fool girl like her didn't even know what she intended. But I take your point, it makes a lot of sense."

  "Wait, what? Agnes? But... How? Why?"

  Erika embraced me.

  "The how is, she bribed the coachman. The why, only Agnes knows. All you need to know right now is that it won't happen again; everyone here is working for me this time."

  Sybil folded her arms across her chest, still in deep thought.

  "...No, I still think we should be ready for an attack. Just because none of the Printemps are involved, that doesn't mean we won't be targeted at some point."

  She smirked, covering the pommel of her sword with her hand.

  "And besides, just look at her, Eri. Her greedy eyes still can't stop lookin' at my sword. Might as well teach her how to use it."

  I jumped a bit. I hadn't realized that I had been admiring Sybil's short blade throughout the conversation, but she had.

  Erika sighed, pressing her hand to her forehead.

  "It's Sophia's choice."

  ---

  Our journey from Doromare back to Guldenfel was much the same as it was on our first trip through the region. We stopped to sleep indoors at every opportunity, including at the same village elder's home. He was pleasantly surprised to see us again, and we even had the opportunity to try some of his wife's cooking this time.

  The battered walls of Guldenfel marked our first long stop.

  It was here that we would spend a short week for Erika to gather provisions for the longer leg of our journey: several weeks north and into the snow, where hopefully Diana waited.

  It was also here that Sybil would begin our lessons, at the Nightingales' guild hall.

  ---

  The Nightingales' guild hall was a subdued affair: a single story building near the wall, crammed into the very corner of the city. Its one indulgence was a spacious practice yard.

  The guildmaster wasn't in, which disappointed me, but Sybil had remarked that this wasn't unusual.

  "She's a busy woman, trying to find love and then falling into her cups when it doesn't work out. Or she's on a job. Could go either way."

  The interior of the hall was small: a desk, a vault for arms, and an entire room of files and ledgers. As the Nightingales were all working nearly all the time, the hall was, in Tor's words, "Jes' another storage closet, same 's any other."

  Sybil and I were standing out in the yard. She was holding a thick, heavy practice blade meant for use with both hands, and I was holding a real, although blunted, dagger. Ruben and Tor were watching from the sidelines.

  Sybil held my hand, guiding it to point the dagger at her unflinching face. "This, Soph, is the line. This is where I die, and it's your lifeline to safety. When fighting a Hiems blade, the dagger does not block, and someone at your level should not try to deflect. What it does is keep their face," she moved the dagger down to point at her chest, "or their heart," finally, she moved the dagger to the crook of her elbow, "or their mistakes at least this far away from you."

  She stepped back a few steps, swinging the wooden practice sword a bit to get a feel for the weight.

  "If we get into a fight, your only job is to protect yourself long enough for one of us to get in the way. Your dancing lessons have taught you some footwork, and that's great. But it's not the kind you'll need in battle. I'm going to come at you, now. Do not try to block. Keep that dagger pointed at me, and try to step to the side without losing your footing."

  Sybil crossed the distance in only two wide steps, bringing the sword down hard at me. Her face was focused, and her eyes cold.

  I froze. It was stupid, but I froze.

  Sybil noticed in time to slide her hand up the practice sword to soften the swing just as it hit my shoulder.

  "Soph? What the hell was that?"

  I took a few deep breaths to stop my body from shaking.

  "I'm sorry, your face just... scared me, that's all."

  "My... face? Soph, I saw you literally get stabbed twice by a mob of angry men."

  "I... it was dark, then... and I thought you were going to die. You looked so... ready to hurt me. I'm sorry."

  I shuddered a bit, trying not to cry, but failing to do so. My tears fell, and I heard them hitting the dirt.

  Her gaze had reminded me of Father's.

  Sybil put the point of her blade into the ground to lean against it, staring at me with concern. Tor and Ruben walked over to get a closer look and whisper to her, asking if I had gotten hurt.

  "Gods... Sybil isn't Father. This is training. I'm safe here."

  Tor crossed the gap in just a few steps, giving me a cautious hug with one arm around the shoulders.

  "'Ey there, m'lady. Everythin' alright? Is somethin' wrong?"

  "I'm sorry, Tor. I just... I don't know what's come over me."

  I buried my face in his jack, causing him to look around uncomfortably before he slowly put his other arm around me to pat me on the head.

  "M'lady, I know we're not the softes' sort, but ye can talk to us. What's got ye down?"

  "I... I'm sorry. It's just... her eyes. Reminded me of Father's. When he..."

  I heard Tor's gloves tighten into fists.

  "Ye don' need to say any more. I understan'"

  The metal plates inside Tor's jack made it uncomfortable to lean against, but his embrace was warm all the same.

  After a short while, I composed myself enough to pull away from him, and returned to my spot in front of Sybil.

  I felt a bit awkward, but in a strange sort of way, I also felt more at home.

  "Well Soph, I can't promise you that you'll be Nightingale tough by the end of these lessons, but we can at least work on giving you the spirit. Let me know when you're ready."

  I took a few more deep breaths before raising up the dagger.

  "I'm ready."