Corvina was shown out to a small patio where the Tulin family were eating a light lunch in the warm afternoon sun. They were talking and laughing together, and Marquess Ormen, who greeted Corvina with a pleasant nod, was even still wearing his dressing gown.

It was a shocking sight to Corvina, who was used to the noble society in the capital, where family luncheons were formal and often uncomfortable affairs. Usually every member of the family would don their most impressive day-wear, take their places around a large table in a formal dining room, and do their best to ignore each others' existence while they ate an overly extravagant meal with far too many courses for the middle of the day. Corvina always hated it when she was invited to lunch at the palace.

Still, at least Corvina knew how to act in the face of cold formality. Presented with this scene of casual familial warmth, Corvina wasn't quite sure what to do. She felt a bit overdressed and out-of-place. She didn't know what they expected from her.

Eventually Corvina decided to go with a fairly safe option, which was to gracefully take a seat at the table and wait for someone to address her first.

"Welcome," said Marquess Ormen. "Are you hungry? You simply must try one of these."

He grabbed a crescent-shaped roll out of a bread basket and plopped it on Corvina's plate.

"It's called a croissant, I believe," said Ormen, a flash of excitement in his eyes. "A remarkable new culinary invention from the Kingdom of... where was it, now, my dear?"

"Beliveau," said Justine, passing the basket of croissants to her daughter Liza, who excitedly took two.

"Yes, quite," said Ormen. "A delightfully precocious little kingdom on the other side of the Sacred Forest. If we're ever able to put an end to this silly war business and set up some proper trade relations I suspect that in a generation or two no one in the Empire will forget the name Beliveau again, if only for the sake of their delicious pastries."

Corvina's brow furrowed. "If they're on the other side of the Sacred Forest, then how were you even able to..."

Ormen winked at her. "I have my ways."

Corvina looked at him skeptically. The Sacred Forest was surrounded by tall, impassable mountain ranges. The Sommets range started at the south-western border of the forest and stretched southward from there all the way to the edge of the continent, and the Ferney range started at the north-eastern border of the forest and stretched east to the former Kingdom of Ladore.

To trade with a kingdom on the other side of the mountain, Marquess Ormen Tulin would have had to either 1) send an expedition all the way around one of these mountain ranges, which was extremely time-consuming; 2) send and expedition through the mountains, which was extremely risky; or 3) cut directly through the Sacred Forest itself, which was impossible.

"I believe the city aristocrats often have a view of us Border Lords as being backwards country folk who are good for nothing but swinging swords at the only thing worse than country folk, which is foreigners." Ormen smiled mischievously. "But they tend to forget that being on the front lines of war also means being on the front lines of diplomacy."

Corvina vaguely wondered if that little speech was meant to adequately explain anything, or if it was just supposed to confuse her further.

Either way, it wasn't worth trying to press the Marquess for a more concrete answer right now.

She ripped off a little piece of the croissant and placed it in her mouth. Almost immediately she covered her mouth with a hand in a surprised gesture and involuntarily let out a little "Mmm!" sound.

"They're yummy, right?" said Liza, who had been eagerly devouring her croissants.

Corvina swallowed and answered before she could stop herself. "It's like the bread is melting in my mouth!"

Ormen chuckled and Corvina immediately began to blush slightly in embarrassment. They were a loving family, but they weren't her loving family. Even if they were tentatively her allies, Corvina couldn't afford to let her guard down around them. She resisted the urge to tear off another piece of the croissant.

Maybe I can send Helen down to the kitchen later to ask for the recipe, thought Corvina, staring longingly at the rest of the roll sitting on her plate. I want Anne to be able to try these, too.

"So," said Justine, pushing her own plate away and addressing Corvina directly. "When I left you in the library yesterday, you promised to fill me in later."

"Yes," said Corvina.

"Well?" said Jusine.

Corvina glanced meaningfully at Ormen and Liza.

"Anything you can say to me, you can say to my family," said Justine. "If you insist on them leaving, I'll just tell them everything you said anyway."

Corvina sighed. "Very well," she said, and she told them everything.

Well... mostly everything. Corvina wasn't confident that it was a good idea to tell anyone about what Anne had said about being from another world where this world was just a 'fantasy' (she still wasn't quite sure she fully understood what the word meant in this context) romance novel. There were several ways in which people might be likely to react to that sort of claim, and none of them were good.

And, of course, Corvina couldn't be reckless about who she told about her... new relationship. They would have to tell some people, of course. But that was the sort of thing you told your friend, not your friend's parents.

But she told them about Eva's magic, and about the "prophecy" they were trying to subvert, and anything else that Justine asked further questions about. There was no longer much utility in hiding those things from these people. And since Anne had gotten mad at her before for concealing her plans for no particular reason, Corvina was trying to be a bit more open with people... sometimes. About some things.

By the time Corvina was done sharing, Liza and Ormen had managed to eat the rest of the croissants between them.

"Are you going to finish that?" Liza asked, pointing at the unfinished croissant on Corvina's plate. Corvina shook her head and Liza snatched it up eagerly.

Ormen reached out and patted Corvina on the shoulder, which made Corvina jump, but based on the sympathy visible in his eyes, it had been meant as a comforting gesture.

"That sounds like a lot to deal with," said Ormen. "But are you fully confident that this deal with the Sacred Forest will save your brother's life? Regardless of assassins, are you certain that Prince Sebastian is fully prepared to survive life in the forest? I have more direct experience with the place than perhaps any other human now living, and I know all too well how unforgiving that environment can be."

Corvina paused momentarily to consider the question seriously.

It was easy to think of Sebastian as a weak, pampered prince. After all, it was a reputation he had purposefully cultivated over the years. But few people other than Corvina truly knew what Sebastian had gone through to drive him to living that kind of life in the first place.

The Sacred Forest was a dangerous environment? Well, so was the imperial palace, and Sebastian had been surviving there all his life.

"He'll be fine," said Corvina. "And having met the elf princes in person now, I trust them to—" Corvina paused to consider this statement. "Well, I trust at least one of them to keep his word. Prince Elyon will protect him."

Possibly from Prince Zaos, Corvina thought to herself. But she had a feeling Zaos wouldn't directly oppose Elyon, even if Zaos was technically of a higher rank. Elyon projected a deep sense of quiet authority that Corvina suspected granted him political power beyond what he should technically be able to wield by position alone.

"What are you planning to do now?" asked Justine, her gaze boring into Corvina's soul.

"Well..." Corvina resisted the urge to shrug. "If the assassinations and the Shadow War never occur, then the war with Quellinia should theoretically never happen, so we don't have to worry too much about that right now."

Justine shook her head. "No, I mean, what are you planning to do now that Eva knows that you know about her magic," said Justine. "You said that she and Anne had a big fight last night, yes?"

"Oh, that." Corvina frowned. She hated the thought of it, but... "Since Anne won't be able to keep her position as the Saintess, she might have to return to her family in the Sacred Forest. Just for now."

But Justine shook her head again. "I mean, what are you planning to do about the rebellion?"

Corvina's brow furrowed again. "What do you mean?"

"It's clear from how you talk about it that you've been considering the whole rebellion as a secondary aspect of your current activities," said Justine. "But you do realize that without Sister Eva, you've lost your primary contact with your main allied military force, right? They're loyal to her, and to the Saintess, not to you. And if Anne gives up her position as the Saintess, then she'll also give up her position as a figurehead for the rebels. And what's more, have you considered how this break with Eva might put your allies in the city at risk?"

Corvina was taken aback. She had been so preoccupied with Anne and what was immediately in front of her, that she really had neglected to consider the bigger picture in a lot of ways. Her. Lady Corvina Wyernmal. The capital city's puppet-master. She had trained her whole life to see the bigger picture, and she'd still allowed herself to be distracted.

"I don't care about the aristocracy," continued Justine. "And I'm confident we can speak freely here because I know my partner's men are more loyal to him than they are to the Emperor..."

Ormen shrugged slightly in acknowledgment of the truth of that statement, although it would put him at risk for execution as a traitor if it proved to be untrue and one of his guards reported this conversation to the Emperor's people.

"But my daughter, Belle." Justine closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "We don't alway see eye-to-eye, but I love her dearly. And for most of her life now, her one goal has been to get aristocratic society to acknowledge her as a legitimate child and heir of House Tulin. You convinced her to give up on that goal, and to instead work towards abolishing the aristocracy altogether. That girl believes in your vision for the world so strongly that she gave up her dream for you. But do you even have a vision for the world? Or did you just get caught up in this Saintess and her tales of prophecies? Did you become so focused on trying to avoid a terrible future that you forgot you would have to build a better future to take its place?"

As the weight of Justine's words settled into Corvina's mind, the warm afternoon sunlight stopped feeling comforting and began to feel oppressive. There was a sense of pressure in the atmosphere that was almost unbearable.

Corvina felt deeply ashamed of herself.

Then Marquess Ormen let out a low whistle, and clapped a few times, slowly, breaking the tension. "That was an impressive speech, honey!" he said.

Justine rolled her eyes and lightly shoved Ormen. "Be quiet," she said, a fond smile on her lips. "I know it was a dramatic way to put it, but I meant it."

"I know," said Ormen. "And I couldn't agree more. Well said, indeed."

"Yes, well said," said Corvina, her mind racing with possibilities. Shame wasn't a useful emotion. Better to set that aside, admit fault, and do better. "I have been distracted and narrow-minded," she admitted. "It's time for me to broaden my vision and turn my attention to what really matters—taking down my father and his government. Even if it means that I have to find a way to turn Eva's own people against her."

After all, Prince Agis will surely side with Anne over Eva, thought Corvina. And the other elf princes have primarily spoken to me and Anne as well, which means we have an in with both the rebellion's armies and with its primary diplomatic allies. It may prove difficult to get the Church of Coris on our side without Eva, but... perhaps we can find a way to keep Anne in her position as Saintess, even without Eva's miracles? And the political branch of the rebellion, all those amateur philosophers in the city, well... maybe the Bastards' Club can manage to win their loyalty before Eva returns to the city? They'll have to try. I'll send them a message through Ulrich this afternoon.

Ormen's eyes flashed again and Corvina briefly wondered how much of his easygoing manner was a facade intended to get people to underestimate him.

"If you need reinforcements when the time comes, remember," he said. "My men have taken an oath to fight for the safety and freedom of the people of the empire. Not for the safety and freedom of any particular ruler."

"Marquess Ormen," said Corvina. "You just might be one of the most dangerous men I've ever met."

Ormen laughed. "That's quite the compliment coming from you, I'm sure."

Corvina smiled slightly. "I'm a little upset I wasn't already aware of you as a potential enemy to the Emperor. That would have been useful to know when I was on his side."

"I don't consider myself anyone's enemy," he said. "But I'll fight fiercely for those I consider my friends."

"And I take it the Emperor is not your friend?" ventured Corvina.

There was a new sadness behind Ormen's smile when he said, "He hasn't been a friend of mine for some time now."

If we have Marquess Ormen's military force behind us, then we won't be as reliant on the power of the church. Which means... maybe it would be for the best, after all, if Anne gives up on being the Saintess and spends some time in the Sacred Forest with her brothers.

After all, it might be better if I remain undistracted. At least until we successfully depose my father. Just until then.

Corvina was startled from her reverie when Helen suddenly burst out of the house. "My lady!" she cried, throwing herself at Corvina's feet.

Helen's skirt was torn and tears were streaming from her eyes and...

"You're bleeding!" said Corvina, grabbing a clean napkin from the table to press against Helen's head wound.

"She took her," said Helen, looking up at Corvina, her expression twisted with despair. "Sister Eva took Anne."

And just like that Corvina once again lost sight of the big picture.