“Bring my children to me!” King Godwin called out over the controlled chaos of the feasting hall. He could hear the anger in his voice, though it wasn’t at any of them—it was at the men who stood in front of him, a collection of nobles who stood there with all the solemnity of men standing at a funeral. He wanted to dismiss them, to tell them all to leave and take their stories with them, yet he couldn’t. Duke Viris was among them, and the rest… these men supplied half of the kingdom’s armies. The Knights of the Spur might be his men, but the rest were summoned from around the kingdom.

“Where are you?” he demanded again, loud enough that the feast fell silent.

His children came forward; at least, those of them who were there. Erin was still absent, and his men had yet to send word that they’d found her. Rodry was there, looking as though he expected to be sent off on some mission, and Vars was drunk, looking as though he hoped he wouldn’t be. Greave was besotted on the arm of some girl, which was a strange look for him, but probably a better one than his usual moping in the library. Lenore was there, elegant and perfect as always…

…and then there was Nerra. Godwin wasn’t supposed to have favorites, but he’d always cared for Nerra so much. Looking after her, keeping her secret from the world, had drawn him closer and closer to his daughter. He wanted her to be safe…

…he just couldn’t see how he could manage it now.

“There have been… claims,” he said. The word almost stuck in his throat. He looked over to Aethe, knowing how much this would hurt his wife, because it was hurting him at least as much. “Claims about you, Nerra.”

Fear filled him then, and as great as his fear for Nerra was, only part of that fear was for his middle daughter. Much of it was for the others there, for all the rest of his family. If people knew that he had kept something like this from them, had not sent away his daughter the moment he knew… they would never forgive him. His whole family might fall and die.

That was the terror that made him say it as if he didn’t know all of this, as if he had never heard the words the nobles had said before, rather than hearing them almost the moment his daughter had been born.

“What claims?” Nerra asked, and she sounded genuinely confused, as if there might be more than one thing that this might be about.

King Godwin gestured to one of the nobles there, a minor earl, Earl Fontaine a few paces ahead of Duke Viris. The duke himself wasn’t going to say it, because that would have been too much, but he was there, he was part of this.

“We have received information that Princess Nerra has the scale sickness,” Earl Fontaine said.

“What?” Rodry demanded from the side. “How dare you make such a claim!”

He stepped forward as if he would fight the man, and on another occasion, King Godwin would have let him. Instead, he had to raise a hand to stop his son, because to do anything else would be to go against the most powerful men in the kingdom.

“That’s enough, Rodry,” Godwin said. He looked to Earl Fontaine. “Do you have evidence of this claim?”

“A boy saw her in the woods,” the earl said. “Her arm bears the mark of the illness.”

“A boy’s word?” Greave said from the side. “Where is this boy? The laws do not permit someone to be condemned on the basis of rumor. I will show you the places in the legal tomes, if it helps.”

For a moment Godwin was grateful for his son’s time in the library, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough.

Sure enough, Earl Fontaine spoke again. “The truth is easy enough to establish, my king. Let us see your daughter’s arms. If the mark is not upon them, I will bow down and beg her forgiveness, but if it is… then this is a serious matter; one that has been kept from your nobles.”

“You dare to demand that?” Rodry asked. “Should my other sisters strip for your amusement? Should I?”

King Godwin wished he could stop this. He stood to do just that, but he could hear the voices speaking up around the hall…

“…trying to hide it…”

“…all helping her…”

“…why won’t they check? Does he already know?”

He knew then that he couldn’t dismiss this. To do that would be to confirm in the minds of his nobles that he and his other children were all in on the secret of Nerra’s illness.

Even so, he tried. “If there is no evidence of this claim, then we must dismiss it as the foolish rumor that it is. I will not have my daughter treated like this.”

“With respect, your majesty,” Earl Fontaine said, “we must insist.”

“Insist?” Godwin shot back. He knew he shouldn’t. “You wish to insist?”

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, that it put the rest of his children in danger. Arguing made it look as if he had been a part of hiding his daughter’s illness, which of course he had been, but showing that to his nobles risked bringing his whole family down. They might rebel. They might kill all of them. Even so, he was willing to stand there and deny them, for Nerra’s sake.

“It’s all right, Father,” Nerra said, stepping forward. Apparently, she understood what was at stake too. She pulled up her sleeve before Godwin could stop her. “Here, is this what you want to see?”

She rolled up her sleeve, revealing the scale mark all over her arm. There was a gasp around the room at the sight of it. King Godwin knew it was too late now. Some things couldn’t be undone, couldn’t be unseen, or unsaid. Looking around, he knew he had to act, or his family would die. He knew what he had to do, even though it hurt more than anything to do it.

“She bears the mark of the scale!” Earl Fontaine said. “She has the sickness!”

He stepped back from her, pointing in obvious horror.

“She has to die!” another noble said.

“Take her and behead her!”

Rodry was there with his hand on his sword, ready to fight anyone who came close. Godwin wanted to leap forward with him, but he knew that was how the destruction of his whole family would start. He would leap down and fight, and in moments, his kingdom would be torn apart. Depending on who fought and who did not, his family might even be slain there and then.

He had to find a better way. “There will be no killing here,” he said. He made his voice stern, because it was the only barrier stopping them from hearing the heartbreak he felt.

“The law requires it,” Earl Fontaine said. Those around him nodded.

“Father,” Nerra began.

The next part broke his heart. “I cannot be your father, Nerra.”

“What?”

“Those with the scale sickness have no families, have no friends. They are outcasts.”

Godwin heard the intake of breath around the hall.

“King Godwin, the law calls for death,” Earl Fontaine said.

“The laws say that they must no longer be a part of the world, that they may be killed if found,” Godwin shot back at him. “Do you wish to argue with me on this, Fontaine? Here, and now? You will not call for my daughter’s death.” Even what he had to do was enough to hurt like his heart was about to leap from his chest.

Aethe moved to him, gripping his arm.

“Husband, you can’t—”

“I can,” he said, raising his voice to stop her as well. “I must. A king must protect his people from this scourge. Nerra, I… I wish there were another way. You must go from this place. You must leave and not come back.”

“Father,” Rodry said, storming forward. “Nerra is my sister and your daughter. You’re going to send her away just like that? She should stay here. She is no danger to anyone here.”

“The scale sickness is a danger to everyone,” a noble called out from further back in the hall.

“Aye, they say those with it herald a time of death!” another called out.

Godwin made a mental note of which people they were. He could not act now, but he would find a way to pay them back for their part in this. How he would ever begin to repay his own part in this, he didn’t know. Still, those voices confirmed the truth of this: Nerra could not stay.

“You do not get to gainsay me in this,” he said to Rodry. He looked around at the others. “None of you do. I take this on myself.”

How could Rodry understand that he was already doing all he could for Nerra? That he’d kept her as safe as he could for years? That anyone else would have sought to have his daughter killed out of hand?

“Nerra,” he repeated. “You will leave this place. You will be gone from the city by the turn of the next month, and if you are seen again within the kingdom, your life…” He paused as he forced the next words past the wash of emotion that threatened to overwhelm them. “Your life will be forfeit.”

“I…” Nerra looked down. There were so many things that King Godwin wished he could say to her, so many ways he wished he could have prevented this. “I love you, Father.”

She turned, with more dignity than should have been possible, and started to walk to the door. People stepped aside for her, partly because of the fear of what she was, and partly because Rodry was there, making sure that none came too close. He saw Lenore going with them, obviously not wanting to leave her sister’s side.

“Call her back,” Aethe said by his side. “Please call her back.”

“I can’t,” King Godwin said, and he saw his wife turn her face from him. That hurt even more than the rest of it, because she of all people ought to know that he was trying to protect his family.

Then some idiot tried to start the dancing again, the music coming loud and happy and jarring.

“Silence!” King Godwin called out. “Do you think this is a time for joy and feasting?” He couldn’t let out all the things he was truly feeling then at the loss of his daughter, but he didn’t have to stand there and pretend that all was well. “The feasting is over! The wedding harvest will commence, and we will be done with this!”

***

Nerra was… broken. Everything in her felt fragmented and splinter sharp right then. She stared at her sleeve. She couldn’t even remember how it had come undone. She thought someone had snagged it in the dancing, but that didn’t even matter. All that mattered was that people had seen her, seen all that was wrong with her.

“I shouldn’t have been there,” she said.

Beside her, Rodry reached out to hug her, hesitated, and that was all that was needed to make Nerra cry. He did hug her then, but it was too late.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s not you who needs to be sorry, it’s me,” Lenore said. “I shouldn’t have insisted that you come to the feasting. If you hadn’t been there, they couldn’t have done this.”

“I wanted to,” Nerra managed. “But this… I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll get Father to change his mind,” Lenore said. “I’ll…”

“There’s nothing you can do,” Nerra insisted.

“There has to be.” Lenore held her out at arm’s length. “We’ll find a way. I’m going to have you there at my wedding, you understand?”

Nerra managed a smile at that. “Anything to get me there.”

“Anything,” Lenore said. “But also anything to make sure I don’t lose my sister.”

“We’ll find a way to help you,” Rodry agreed. “Whatever it takes.”

***

Godwin sat in his chambers, waiting for his children to come to him. To his surprise, Greave was the first of them, rushing in with more anger and energy than he had ever seen in the boy.

“You’re going to send Nerra away?” Greave demanded, bringing his hands down on the desk behind which Godwin sat. The king looked up at him, seeing far too much of his mother in him, the pain of that making it impossible to simply talk to his son.

“Do not presume to lecture me,” Godwin said. “Not on this.”

“If not on this, then on what?” Greave demanded. “The law books hold all kinds of loopholes. I could find one—”

“And then what?” Godwin demanded. “What do you think it will look like if we do that?”

“You’re concerned about how things look?” Greave demanded. “Do you even care about your family at all?”

Godwin stood, towering over his son. “I care more than you could ever understand, locked away in your library, learning nothing about the world!”

“You think I’ve learned nothing? Well, shall I quote Liviricus? ‘A man who loses the love of his family loses everything.’”

“Not as much as a man who actually loses his family,” Godwin snapped back.

“‘The king’s authority is absolute in matters relating to the immediate security of the kingdom,’” Greave shot back. “That’s from a charter more than three hundred years old.”

“It doesn’t matter what the law says, or what your books say,” Godwin replied. His voice was raised now. There was always something about Greave that riled him where Nerra had soothed him. It only made it worse that he was here while Nerra was on the verge of being sent away. “It matters what the nobles will do. Do you not understand what was happening in there? Someone was trying to ferment rebellion. These are men with half the soldiers in the kingdom between them, men who could bring our entire family down if I do not do as they demand.”

“So you’re just going to throw Nerra out into the wilds?” Greave demanded.

“Do you really believe that?” Godwin shot back. “We have family elsewhere. Your mother had brothers. I will send Nerra to one of them, away from the sight of others. She will be safe there.”

“She’ll be a prisoner in all but name,” Greave insisted.

“It’s better than being dead,” Godwin said. He felt so old in that moment, so tired. “If you want things to turn out so differently, maybe you should look in those books of yours for a cure to the scale sickness.”

Greave stood there for a moment or two longer.

“Maybe I will,” he said. “Maybe I will.”

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

Lenore was still trying to think of ways to help her sister the next morning, while her maids were helping her to prepare. They’d brought her traveling clothes, and Lenore frowned at them.

“What are these for?” she asked.

“Your father has declared that the wedding harvest will begin early,” one of her maids said.

“Early?” Lenore said. She knew why. He had called an end to the feasting in the wake of her sister’s banishment. Just the word was enough to make Lenore want to find Nerra again, want to tell her that they would go to their father now that he had calmed down and force him to reconsider.

“Where is my sister now?” Lenore asked.

“She is… already gone, your highness,” the maid said.

“No,” Lenore said. She couldn’t be. Nerra wouldn’t just leave. She had until the end of the month. Without waiting for her maids, she grabbed her traveling clothes and set off through the castle, determined to find Nerra, sure that this was some kind of mistake. Lenore made for her rooms, so tucked away and so private. Now that Lenore knew about her condition, it made sense: she’d been kept there out of the way.

Which meant that her father had known.

Lenore stopped short at that thought, because it brought with it a host of questions: who else had known, and why had they stayed silent. How could their father banish her sister like that for something he had been complicit in? Anger rose in her at the thought of what he’d done. He would have his reasons, of course, but it was playing politics when Nerra was at risk. She would find him and…

“My love, is everything well with you?”

Lenore turned and found herself staring at Finnal, who looked as impossibly handsome as always. Instantly, she was aware that she was only half dressed in front of the man she was due to marry, and her fingers fumbled to make sure that all the stays of her traveling clothes were in place.

“I’m trying to find Nerra,” she said. “What Father did, banishing her for having the scale sickness…”

“It’s a hard thing,” Finnal said, with a note of sympathy. “But I would guess that your sister is gone by now.”

“No,” Lenore said, shaking her head. “I will not allow this. I will find her and bring her back. I will—”

“Aren’t you to go on the wedding harvest?” Finnal said. He sounded surprised that she was even thinking of being anywhere else.

“How can I do that and still find Nerra?” Lenore demanded.

Finnal caught her up in his arms. “Lenore, you aren’t thinking,” he said, holding her close. “And I understand it; losing a sister must be the hardest thing in the world. If you don’t go now though, people will think that you’re being disloyal, trying to disobey your father and siding with your sister. If you truly wish to help Nerra, the best thing that you can do is to go.”

“You really think that?” Lenore asked. It made a kind of sense. Her strength was that her father believed that she was perfect and obedient. Going against him in this would only shatter that belief, wouldn’t it?

“He is angry right now,” Finnal said. “Believe me, I know what it is to be made to do things by a father. Yet, if you leave it until the wedding harvest is done… until you are wed…”

“He might have calmed down a little by then,” Lenore said. That made sense. Maybe time would let her persuade her father. There was only one problem with that. “What will happen to Nerra in the meantime?”

“She will be safe enough,” Finnal said. “We have to hope.”

“Will you help me find her, Finnal?” Lenore asked. She felt as though Finnal was one of the few people she could truly trust. He was to be her husband, after all.

He paused only briefly before answering. “If that is what you wish, then of course I shall look. I would do anything for you, my love.”

Lenore was more grateful for that than she could say. She wanted to kiss him more than anything right then, but he had already taken her hand and was leading her down toward the courtyard.

“You must not be late,” Finnal said.

In the courtyard, a carriage awaited her, of gilt wood and drawn by four white horses. A pair of maids were loading it with her things, before getting up into it to accompany her. Half a dozen guards were with it, which seemed like too few for such a journey, although Lenore was pleased to see Rodry there. Finnal seemed less pleased, though, holding back as Lenore went to go closer.

“I will say goodbye to you here, my love,” he said.

“I wish you and Rodry weren’t at odds,” Lenore said.

“We aren’t at odds,” Finnal replied. “I just… it’s clear that he has no liking for me, and I will not fight with my beloved’s family.” He lifted her hand to his lips. “I will await your return, Lenore. Each heartbeat that you are gone will be an agony.”

He always seemed to know the perfect thing to say.

“I love you,” Lenore whispered as she pulled back from him.

“I love you too.”

It took an effort to go to Rodry and the carriage.

“Are you going with me?” Lenore asked him as she got near. That would be something, to have the finest warrior of the kingdom with her.

But Rodry shook his head. “Father has said that Vars must do it. He’s to gather men and meet you by the crossroads at Averton, to the south. From there, you’ll ride a circuit of the kingdom together.”

“I can’t imagine Vars will like that,” Lenore said, thinking of how her brother would hate to be away from the inns of Royalsport. Her expression turned serious after a moment. “Do you know that Nerra is gone?”

Rodry nodded. “It’s the only reason I’m not going to push the issue of accompanying you. I’ll stay behind and try to find her, then join you when I can.”

That was a good thought on his part, and it made Lenore happy that she wasn’t the only one trying to keep their sister safe. She hugged her brother.

“Do one more thing for me,” she said.

“What?” Rodry asked, then flinched as Lenore glanced over to her betrothed. “Oh, no, anything but that.”

“Please, Rodry. Finnal is going to be my husband, and you are my brother. It’s important that you should get along.”

“How can I, with the things they say about—”

“Lies,” Lenore said. “They’re lies, Rodry.”

“It’s not a lie that his father stood there with the nobles who tried to have Nerra banished,” Rodry pointed out.

“Then that’s all the more reason to make Finnal a good friend,” Lenore replied. “Maybe he can persuade his father to talk to the others. He’s not responsible for what his father does, Rodry.”

“He’s responsible for what he does,” Rodry said.

“And so far, he hasn’t done anything to make him your enemy,” Lenore said. “He’s the man I’m marrying, Rodry. Make a friend of him.”

“How?” Rodry asked, as if he weren’t the best of all of them at making friends.

“I don’t know. Take him hunting or something. Please.”

She said it insistently enough that even Rodry had to nod, and Lenore redoubled her hug.

“Thank you. Good luck finding Nerra.”

“And good luck out on the road,” Rodry said. “Not that you’ll need it. People will flock to see you. This wedding harvest will remind them of all of the things our family has done for them, and they’ll love you for it.”

“I hope so,” Lenore said. “I really hope so.”

***

Lenore, her maids, and the few guards with her rode down through the city, and on every side there were people gathered to see her off. Lenore couldn’t help smiling at the joy they showed, and she waved, even though there was still so much of her thinking about weightier things.

“They will find Nerra,” Lenore said to herself, careful not to say it loud enough that her maids might hear. For now, Finnal and Rodry were right—she had to focus on this duty. It was a duty, even if it was a pleasurable one. She and the others with her would have to visit every corner of the kingdom, and that would mean traveling every day, to reach places she barely knew about. Not the far north, obviously, where the dead lands around the volcanoes lay, but all of the rest of the kingdom, all of the towns, and probably many of the villages.

Looking out at the people waving and throwing flowers, Lenore didn’t think it would be that much of a chore.

They gave her more than that, too. At several spots in the city, her carriage drew to a halt and representatives of the Houses gave her chests that when she opened them shone with gold or stones.

“A sign of our loyalty,” a young woman from the House of Sighs said as she curtseyed and held out the gift of a necklace strung with the finest pearls.

No wonder they called it a wedding harvest.

As the carriage continued, slowly leaving Royalsport in its wake, Lenore found herself wondering if there shouldn’t be more men with it. After all, it already contained as much wealth as she had seen in one place, plus herself and her maids, who were both from noble families.

“That’s why we’re meeting up with Vars,” she reminded herself. Her brother would be there to keep her safe. Besides, the sight of more cheering folk along the side of the road told her how foolish her fears were. The people loved her, so what could go wrong?