“Are you…angry about Papa?”
We both knew what I meant. If Papa had been working on my memories…
When he didn’t speak, I took a deep breath and kept talking, unable to leave it alone. “I’m younger than you by almost five winters. Ivene said I was three winters when Mama took me.”
Our eyes met, and this time, Tibris’s eyes were hollow. “I had seen eight winters. And yet I have no recollection of suddenly having a new sister. As far as my memories are concerned, you were just always…there.”
It was bitterness I tasted now. Both our parents were dead. We couldn’t turn back time and ask Papa why he’d gone along with whatever reason Mama had given him for taking me from my true parents.
She had said it was to save my life. But to keep it hidden for so many years, to never tell those parents that I was okay?
Unless she didn’t need to tell them. Because they were dead. The thought made me want to howl.
“Papa must have been working on me constantly.” Tibris’s voice was as bitter as the taste in my mouth.
I couldn’t blame him. As far as we’d known, Papa had only ever used his magic for good. Like most people, he’d only had enough power to help temporarily, so he’d gone from village to village, softening the kinds of memories that ruined lives. Mothers who’d lost their children, husbands who’d lost their wives. Usually, those memories were hardest due to self-blame. My father had been the last hope for those who couldn’t live with the guilt.
But he’d always told me there were few things worse than altering the memories of someone who hadn’t given their permission.
If he’d been working on Tibris and me for all those years, the guilt would have been eating him alive.
“I can’t forgive him for it,” Tibris said hoarsely. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive him.”
My chest clenched. My brother was known among his friends for his inability to hold a grudge.
“I think…I think he was trying to protect you.”
He lowered his brows. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Understood. Uh, just so you know…one day I want to try to find my birth parents. At first, I thought it would be a kind of betrayal. But they had a daughter taken from them, and they deserve to know what happened. If they’re still alive. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still consider you to be my brother.”
“I know. You don’t have to worry about me.”
I’d always worry about him. It was my job as his sister. But from the frown on Tibris’s face, it was clear he was ready to change the subject.
“So…how much do you know about wine and ale?”
Tibris let out a laugh. “Less than you know about cleaning.”
“My work at Herica’s bakery must have been good for something,” I said.
I hoped she was okay. Hoped she hadn’t been punished by the village for having hired one of the corrupt. She was old enough that she hadn’t needed to be assessed, but…
How much trouble had I caused for her?
We rounded a corner, and the castle came into view. It looked like a fortress that had been built to defend against some ancient enemy, with stone walls so dark they appeared almost black—each brick cut into perfect rectangles. Several towers loomed over us, stretching into the sky with tiny windows dotted at what seemed like random intervals.
I reached for my brother’s hand. “I’m scared,” I admitted. There were very few people I would admit such weakness to.
“I am too.”
Tibris looked at me and shook his head at whatever he saw on my face. “I’ve been scared since I got home and found you gone. Since I heard you’d fled and Asinia had been taken. Since Mama…” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “But every time I think about it, about how part of me wondered if you were dead too, the fear gives way to rage. Focus on that, Prisca. Focus on everything they took from us. Focus on Asinia.”
Vengeance burned in my belly. Tibris was right. Fury was better than fear. Lorian had said the same when it came to using my power.
Our carriage continued past the castle and the long line of horseless carriages, most of them white and gold. Likely nobles arriving for some party. We continued straight, taking the next right, and the carriage slowed for the gatehouse. Several guards stood outside the servants’ gate, and I forced myself to slow my breathing.
“Halt,” a voice said, and the carriage stopped.
I pulled out my papers and buried my other hand in the folds of my dress to hide the shaking. The guards would expect some nerves—after all, we were peasants about to begin working in the castle. But blind terror would make them take a closer look.
One of the guards leaned in the window of the carriage, his gaze sweeping over both of us. “Papers.”
We handed them over. He scanned them and nodded, holding them back out for us to take. The gates opened, and the carriage continued to the next checkpoint. Now that we’d passed the first test, my limbs went weak.
This guard took longer, reading each word and comparing the descriptions to our faces. I lowered my gaze, as would be expected.
“Where are you coming from?” he asked.
My skin tightened at his hard stare. “Mistrun,” I said without hesitation.
Silence stretched as he continued to study our papers. A line of sweat slid down my spine, and I fought to keep my expression neutral, a little bored. Finally, he nodded, holding out our papers. The carriage continued, and I let out a shuddery breath.
“I thought I was going to vomit all over myself,” I muttered.
Tibris shook with laughter, and it was easy to see the relief that had set in. “We did it,” he said. “The hardest part is over.”
I shook my head as the carriage stopped once more, directly outside the servants’ entrance.
“Somehow I doubt that.”
We got out of the carriage, each carrying a satchel that held our few belongings. A stern-faced woman appeared in the doorway.
“You’re the new recruits from Mistrun.”
“That’s right.” Tibris smiled at her.
Her eyes softened slightly. “Well, get moving, then.”
We both jumped into action, following her into the castle. The servants’ entrance opened into a narrow room, where several delivery boys were waiting. One of them leered at me, and I gave him a killing look.
Tibris elbowed me, and I forced my gaze down once more.
“Names,” the woman barked.
“I’m Setella, and this is Loukas,” I said.
“My name is Nelia. I run an organized castle. Loukas, you will go into the next room, where one of the other cellar servants will give you a uniform and show you your bed. Setella, follow me.”
Tibris gave me a reassuring smile and disappeared. I followed Nelia, taking mental notes of every turn. Directions weren’t something I was typically good at, but by the time I left this castle, I would know every inch of it.