Inessa held a cup of wine close as she pressed herself against the outside wall, looking out at the fine gardens of the palace. She had accidentally caught Fadrique’s gaze. She had been so careful but was bound to make a mistake once or twice. She prayed he wouldn’t see her come out here, because then he would hunt her down, and the last thing she wanted to do was be alone with him.

The thought came to her mind to find Martin, to stay in his shadow. Fadrique usually behaved himself if she was close to Martin, but she didn’t want to clue him in to what was going on. Navir had sworn her to silence, and as the obedient little concubine, she obeyed.

“High Elder Fadrique!” someone said far too close to the door leading outside. Right to where Inessa was hiding. She panicked before looking for an escape. If the voice was close, Fadrique was too.

“Yes? Hello,” Fadrique said, right beside the door. Inessa took a deep breath, steadying herself as Fadrique had a conversation with the gentleman. The slippers on her feet barely touched the ground as she tiptoed toward the far door. He was clearly trying to end the conversation quickly to continue his hunt.

She slipped inside through the door, the wall of noise hitting her, but she remained peeking through. Fadrique ended the conversation and left, stepping outside to where he believed Inessa was. She backed away toward a pillar and settled behind it, holding her breath. It still gave her a nice view of the gardens, and more specifically, of Fadrique. He spun around before he headed toward the gardens, guaranteeing Inessa a solid space of time where she could relax.

She sipped her wine in celebration of this tiny victory. For a year, she’d been able to avoid him. Her own mother, Jina, had taught her everything she needed to know. How to seduce a man, and then how to disappear. According to Jina, once a woman could master those two things, she never had to worry about another thing ever again. And in a way, she was right.

***

The next day, Indenuel walked out of the Cathedral, hands deep in his pockets, a frown evident on his face. He had just finished his morning training with High Elder Gavir, and he had some thoughts about it.

“Would you like to return to your home for lunch?” Tolomon asked.

“Yeah, I guess.” To be honest, he didn’t have much of an appetite, as he ate way too much for breakfast. He still struggled with the idea of leaving food on his plate, and when the servants brought out platterfuls of food, it was difficult to not try and eat as much as he could. It didn’t bode well for tonight, since he doubted Sara would allow him to leave any food on his plate at all.

Indenuel was quiet as they got in the carriage. Tolomon shifted some of the weapons on him before sitting comfortably in the carriage.

“What’s going on. You hardly spoke three words to Navir while you were training with him,” Tolomon said.

“I didn’t feel like it was training at all,” Indenuel admitted. “He was just testing me more.”

“It is the first day. He’s trying to understand what you can do.”

“He’s more excited to see my gift, to measure how powerful it is.” He sighed. “They seem to accept my role as Warrior, and yet still treat me like a child.” He figured that was the root of Navir’s actions. He didn’t necessarily care about Indenuel, he cared more about his power and position. It was like Indenuel, the person, was getting in the way of the calling somehow, but he didn’t feel like explaining that all to Tolomon.

“How do you mean?” Tolomon asked.

He reached for something. “Navir seemed genuinely surprised that I could read. It’s rather obnoxious.”

With the stretch of silence, Indenuel finally looked over at Tolomon, who looked guilty. “Well, to be honest, it is kind of surprising.”

The embarrassment burned in his cheeks. “Why?”

Tolomon gave a shrug, raising his hands as though in surrender. “You grew up in a town so poor no one knows about it, and yet you know how to read.”

“My mother taught me,” Indenuel interjected.

“And you stayed in that town,” Tolomon continued as though he hadn’t interrupted. “The ability to read is one of the things that divides the crippling poor from the poor and middle classes. If you and your mother both knew how to read, there should have been no reason to be in a poor farming village in the middle of nowhere.”

Indenuel stared at Tolomon, hating the conflicting feeling going on inside him. He hadn’t thought of it before, but he realized the town councilmen really weren’t picked because they were the strongest in their power. They were picked because they knew how to read and write. It simply never dawned on him before. Meeting Garen yesterday was just a small step. There were still thousands of questions he didn’t understand. It might have mattered that he had an Oraminian father, but if he kept it secret, why couldn’t he have left Mountain Pass? Why did Lucia force him to stay and suffer the abuse of the town? He had asked why everyone else left at fourteen, and yet he remained with her. Why couldn’t he leave for a different town, start a new life? But she never gave him a straight answer. Indenuel got the impression that Lucia was still terrified he would get discovered. But why should it matter? She started a new life in Mountain Pass twenty years ago, why couldn’t he leave and start one of his own?

“I’m sorry if I troubled you further,” Tolomon said as the carriage stopped in front of the house he felt uncomfortable calling his own.

“No, no trouble. Sorry, I just get lost in thought sometimes,” Indenuel said.

They had a quick lunch, despite the huge spread of food the servants had presented, which gave him the opportunity to ask.

“If there’s no poor in the city, who are they giving all this food to?” Indenuel asked.

“There’s still some poor. Just not the crippling poverty kind. Those who are only eating one meal a day can now eat two,” Tolomon said.

“So there is still poor in the city,” Indenuel said.

“Yes. But they are given the resources needed to help them not be so terrified of when their next meal will be, and therefore they are able to work themselves to a place where they can live comfortably.”

Indenuel frowned, watching Tolomon, a question pressing on his mind. “What social class were you in before you became a Graduate?”

“I was not necessarily poor, but my parents struggled to get by at times when my sisters and I were children.”

“Do your parents get any wealth or titles for having a son become a Graduate?” Indenuel asked.

“They’re dead,” Tolomon said, focusing on his rice.

Indenuel felt his chest constrict. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Tolomon smiled. “It’s been about twenty-two, twenty-three years now. The, um,” he cleared his throat. “I was around fifteen, sixteen years old, and already training with the military at that point here in the city when the Oraminians broke through the defenses and ransacked the nearest town. My town. They murdered anyone who stood up and fought against them. Shovels and pitchforks against swords and spears. It was a slaughter.”

Indenuel stared, feeling a growing dread. “And… your sisters?”

“My younger sister she-” Tolomon shook his head, the pain in his smile. “She wasn’t one to stand aside, so she was killed. My older sister was luckily married off and moved to a different town weeks before the Oraminian army struck. We stay in contact here and there.” Tolomon stood, eating his last bite of lunch.

The lunch in his stomach began to churn in his unease. Once Indenuel could be certain Garen was who he said he was, he wanted to tell Tolomon, but now this made him pause. What would his bodyguard’s reaction be to guarding someone who was half Oraminian?

“Ready to go to the training grounds?” Tolomon asked.

Indenuel had been done with his lunch long before Tolomon was done with his. He was again reminded how sheltered Mountain Pass had been from the war. It seemed like everyone he met knew someone personally who had died because of this war or the war in the past. Maybe that was one of the reasons why Lucia wanted him to remain in Mountain Pass.

“I’m really sorry about your family,” Indenuel said.

“Thank you. I have been told they are living peacefully in the afterlife. It took a while, but I’ve come to terms with it,” Tolomon said.

“I guess this makes us both orphans, doesn’t it,” Indenuel said.

He chuckled. “I guess it does.”

***

Inessa got out of the carriage with the note from the female healers in the city. Since she couldn’t read, she could only guess, but she had an idea of what it said. She walked into Martin’s home, and Derio bowed to her.

“Welcome home, Inessa,” Derio said.

“Is High Elder Martin…”

“In his study. You may visit him if you’d like.”

“Thank you.”

She walked as quietly as possible toward Martin’s study a few doors down from the main entrance. She tried to be quiet in Martin’s house more than any other. It didn’t take a scholar to understand that no one living in this house wanted her to be there.

Inessa knocked softly on the door of Martin’s study. “Come in.” She opened the door, watching his face fall when he registered it was her. “Hello, Inessa. Good to see you.”

Liar.

She gave a curtsey. “Forgive the disturbance, sir. I just got back from the female healers.” She offered the letter to him.

“Ah yes. Thank you. And please, call me Martin.”

“I wouldn’t want to disrespect you, sir.”

“On the contrary, Inessa. I really would rather you call me Martin,” he said, not looking at her as he took the note.

Since she wasn’t holding the letter anymore, she clasped her hands together, eyes turned downward, elbows pressed into her sides, doing her best to portray an obedient little concubine. Martin opened the letter and read it swiftly as she waited. Part of her wondered if it would be inappropriate to ask Martin if she could get a tutor to learn to read. She had first asked Dalius, and he asked Navir his opinion on it. He declined her request quickly. She didn’t dare ask Fadrique. But maybe Martin was different.

“So…” Martin began to say. He read through the letter again. “Alright, so if…” He was doing everything in his power to treat this as a gentleman would, which confirmed Inessa’s suspicions. “Let’s come over to my desk for a moment, shall we?”

She nodded and followed him over. He pulled out his calendar and picked up a quill. “The note says you should be…” He trailed off again, comparing the letter and his calendar. “Alright, yes. Here. On this night we shall…” He was never going to finish his sentences. He readied himself to write the squiggles Inessa was beginning to recognize as her name, but he froze again. The quill trembled ever so slightly as he began to write the beginning of her name on the date a couple weeks away before he began to cross it out. “You know what? I’ll remember. I don’t need to write it down,” he said, continually crossing her name out over and over with the quill.

Inessa gave a small nod. “If you’d like, sir, I could remind you on the day of our-”

“Yes, yes. That would be helpful. Yes. And Martin. Please call me Martin.”

She had never been uncomfortable with what she had to do as a concubine. It was part of her duty, the reason her family could eat. But seeing Martin react as he did, part of his unease transferred over to her. It wasn’t like this was the first time they had done this.

“It’s, um… I’m not sure if you remember this from a year ago, but I usually need… two or three consecutive nights. At least. Just to be sure.”

Martin, who was still crossing out Inessa’s name from his calendar, tightened his grip over his quill and the paper tore under the sharp tip. It would have been funny if he wasn’t so incredibly uncomfortable. Inessa remembered the pure relief on his face a year ago when he announced he would be leaving on a travel mission to the smaller towns and villages around Santollia. She knew she was the reason for him volunteering for that mission.

“Let’s just start with one night for now,” Martin said, his face trying too hard to relax and smile. “We’ll readdress it in a couple more months if you’re still not…”

“Pregnant?” Inessa asked, because someone had to talk about it. If she broached the subject, maybe it could be easier to talk about, but as Martin’s face turned a shade of green, she realized it didn’t help. “Forgive me. That was inappropriate of me to say.”

Martin cleared his throat, moving his calendar to one side. “Anything else?”

“Yes.” Inessa pointed at herself, at the female organ. “The female healers want to know when you’ll start the examinations instead of-”

Martin made a noise, like a loud gasp but with his lips closed. Inessa stopped talking as his face twisted like he was in physical pain. “You can keep meeting with them for the time being.” His words came out as a pained whisper.

“Alright,” Inessa said. “I believe that’s all.”

Martin tried again to smile as he stood. “Well, I shall see you…” He fiddled with the quill before placing it back in the ink pot. “I will certainly…” He tapped his fingers against the desk. “I will look forward to…” He winced, a shudder traveling through his body.

“I’ll show myself out, sir,” Inessa said.

“Martin.”

“Pardon?”

“Do not call me sir. Do not call me High Elder. Please, Inessa, I need you to just call me Martin.” He didn’t sound angry, more like he was desperate. Inessa gave another small curtsey, trying to hide her confusion.

“Alright, Martin. Thank you for your time.”

He said nothing as Inessa walked out of the study. She closed the door softly before heading to her room. It was so odd. Martin requested everyone to drop the formal titles from his name, but she had never seen him react so desperately. It must be because she was his concubine. It was obvious Martin hated this law, and in extension, hated the relationship forced upon them. Maybe he needed Inessa to treat him like she would anyone else. Maybe he wanted to make sure Inessa felt like she wasn’t forced into this, even if, in a way, she was.

She asked for some wine as she made her way to her room. Once she was there, she excused the servants who were doing the last of the cleaning. She sat at a small desk with a large mirror connected to it. There was a knock, and she stood up to retrieve the glass of wine, thanking the servant before returning to her desk, placing the wine carefully down. She opened the bottom drawer, piling small trinkets and mementos from her concubine sisters from other High Elders. Carefully, she eased the false bottom underneath and placed the wood on top of the mementos. She reached in for her two secret items. The dagger she placed on top of the desk before she took out the small bag with a draw string. She placed it next to the glass of wine and stared at her reflection.

She had played this secret game for a long time, and no one had known. Be the good, obedient little concubine in public, and they would continue to assume she wouldn’t be clever enough for something like this. And apparently it worked.

She stared at her reflection, asking it the same questions she always had. Was she ready to face the anxiety of lying to the female healers again next month? Was she ready for the harsh punishment that would come if anyone found out? Was she ready to face the numerous amounts of tests when she knew exactly why she wasn’t pregnant yet?

But the final question, the one she always asked that always made her cave no matter how much her anxiety grew about the future. Was she ready to have a baby at nineteen years old?

Inessa grabbed the bag and poured a healthy amount into her wine. There wasn’t much left. She’d have to get more tonight. Just in case.

Inessa swirled the wine around until the powder disappeared and toasted to her reflection before she drained the glass, feeling the powder work its way into her stomach. She closed her eyes as she stood, making her tree talking powers work, forcing the powder through her body to her female reproductive organ, searching for the egg ready there. She doused the egg with every bit of powder to help it kill whatever sperm entered it while it stayed looking like a healthy, viable egg. The most powerful tree talker in the world never sensed the powder. Now it was time to see if the most powerful healer in the world could sense if there was anything wrong with the egg inside her.

Inessa opened her eyes and prepared for the anxiety that would certainly come in the next month.