The Prince of White and Black

Part One

The Shape of the World

I

Rustling velum filled Sister Lysse’s ears as she stepped into the office of the majordomo. Clerics dressed in a myriad of robes exchanged pages, speaking in hushed tones. The room itself was large enough to accommodate two dozen comfortably. Books lined the walls. The last rays of the setting sun entered ten-foot windows. A high ceiling held a chandelier fixed with thirty candles gave light to the room. Wax stalactites loomed overhead. The air was oppressive.

The shadows grew long.

Lysse saw the majordomo of Beaduex sat behind a desk, working furiously at papers and occasionally whispering something venomous to what ever cleric was at hand. She fingered her letter nervously. A look to the page who brought her here brought no comfort. He was as nervous as she was.

She had stepped into a world she knew nothing about. Power. Here beat the heart of the kingdom, where a king’s commands were turned into action. Here Majordomo Walem sat midst the work of the kingdom, holding it all together. She looked down at the letter of introduction for the eightieth time since setting out, half a dozen of which had been once she entered the Court of the Raven.

The sun whispered a last light, then hid behind the horizon. The candles glowed a little brighter. Lysse shuffled her feet. Somewhere below her the beast lived. She tried not to think about it but she knew the rumors too well. The king’s son, an abomination, lived at the depths of the castle.

Majordomo Walem looked up from his papers and scanned the room. His scowl turned to alarm when he saw Lysse. “Who are you?”

Lysse didn’t know if she should bow or curtsy, and in a panic she did both at once. It felt like a full body heave. When she straightened, her face burned from embarrassment. “I am Sister Lysse. From Tourenny. I have a letter from High Elder Cosda.” She held it up.

Annoyance in the majordomo’s eyes was replaced by curiosity. Lysse thought he was a man looking for distraction. “Ah. About the teaching position.”

“Yes,” Lysse said, head bobbing in her eagerness. Relief washed over her. The journey had not been in vain.

Walem offered a hand and she hurried over to the desk to hand over the letter. Walem opened it with a deft move of his hand. Lysse distracted herself from her embarrassment by wondering how many he opened in a day.

“Highly recommended,” Walem said. “Very well. Can you answer difficult questions?”

Lysse scratched her ear. “I suppose that depends on the question. I’m sorry, I thought I was supposed to teach the young prince. Prince Timeur’s son.”

Walem only smiled. Lysse thought he rather enjoyed her ignorance. “What people live east of Lecado?”

“The Vernee.” That was an easy one. Geography had been her first love.

Walem nodded. “Who first wrote of the proper spirits?”

“Olegin. Ambix copied his work.”

Walem’s smiled deepened. “Oh, he will enjoy you. Do you know math?”

“I know how to find the area of a triangle, sir. I did not advance as far as some of my sisters, but my foundations are sound.”

As Walem considered her, he flashed a hand signal to the page that brought her there and the boy vanished. “Well, it isn’t a necessity. Perhaps just a curiosity. I don’t know what he wants. The freak.”

Lysse scratched her ear again. It didn’t itch, but her hand did so automatically when she pondered a question. Her sisters liked to tease her for it. “I’m sorry, but I thought I would be the prince’s tutor. Am I not to help the young Yves?”

“One last question,” Walem said blithely. “If you answer it, I will make you a High Elder tonight and give you your own temple and house of learning to govern.”

Lysse gulped. What was going on here?

“Why is the world round?”

Her mind raced, landing on each of a dozen works by learned scholars. A dozen theories. She picked the most recent one. “So that the God Beyond can hold it in his palm and turn it to face the sun.”

Walem’s mouth grew thin as his displeasure replaced his smile in a snap. Just then two guards walked through the door, their heavy armor rattling as they stepped in. Walem turned his attention back to his papers. “Take her to the deepest dungeon. Let the beast have his fun with her. Let me know when he grows bored of this one.”

Fear seized Lysse a moment before the guards could put a hand on her. Her legs locked up and she couldn’t move. Beast? The Beast? What have I done to deserve a dungeon? She was so terrified by the implications of what Walem had said that by the time she had gained control of herself again, she had already been dragged out of the room.

Her feet stumbled to pick up her weight, but she walked without a word. The two guards flanking her were relieved that they didn’t have to carry her any further. They guided her through the castle.

Why am I walking? I should be kicking and screaming down these halls. I won’t let any beast have his fun with me. I am a Sister. But terror prevented her from speaking. She walked meekly as a lamb to the altar. She made no sign to the people she passed in the halls. They descended three flights of stairs before she could speak.

“You’re taking me to the Vampire. Prince Edris.” The words left her in a panic. What if he could hear them.  

Rumor clung to Prince Edris the way ink clings to the page. The third son of the king, they said he bathed in blood and delighted in torture. He shunned the sun. He ate children. Mad from birth, born backwards. An apostate. The Prince of White and Black. The White Raven. An albino.

“Quick, you are,” the guard to her left said. “Yeah. The prince has needs. Don’t worry. He’ll finish with you quickly. No one lasts long.”

Lysse looked to the other guard, who seemed just as terrified as she was. The guard to her left noticed and chuckled. “Don’t be white-hearted about it.”

Called a coward before being fed to a vampire. If the God Beyond was kind, her ghost would see that this guard suffered.

The dungeons of the castle lay behind an enormous oak door. Guards watched it. They gave her no regard. She might as well not have lived. Lysse tried to turn around, to run, but her limbs didn’t obey. Life had become a dream, and no matter how she tried, it was set on being a nightmare.

The guards pushed her through the door. She faced a tunnel twisting into the earth. Sunless, it was lit by torches.

“Come on,” her captor said, walking off into the dungeon.

Lysse heard wails of prisoners. When they passed a prison door, the poor souls stared back at her, pityingly. Their eyes knew. Down, down. The air grew hot and thick. Wind was just a memory down here. Further down. The faces staring back out at her grew more forlorn as they went. They had given up on ever seeing the light again, and she was going deeper.

“Why me?” she said, finally managing to say something.

The lead guard shrugged. “Does it matter? You or someone else. The Vampire is always hungry.”

Down. The entire tunnel smelled of human waste. The torches were few and far between here. Men lived in darkness, beyond hope. Stuffed into cells for some crime and forgotten. How did the world come to this? Where was the goodness she had heard preached in the world above? The God Around should break down the walls and let all men here run free. He could kill the Vampire and save her. The God Within would never have let this happen.

There was no more dungeon. Before her an enormous door with a torch on either side. It had an evil look to it. Runes and spells had been carved into the door. The guard leading her pulled a key from his belt and opened the door. Warm air whipped past her and for a moment she thought she heard a harp.

Rough hands shoved her hard and she fell forward, through the door, which closed solidly behind her.

II

Lysse landed on her knees in a luxurious space. Indeed she had never seen such luxury before in her life. Not even in the High Elder’s apartments. Beautiful tapestries of musicians and woodland animals covered the walls. She could see by the poor light of candles hanging from chandeliers. Couches and divans to sit on, silver and gold animals were scattered across the room. A set of pitch-black armor stood by the door. The air was cool and breathed naturally.

Only when she stood did she realize that the room was less a room and more of a furnished cave. Stone walls twisted away from her.

Good light shone in one place alone. A space thirty spaces from her were desks and bookshelves were bathed in a healthy glow. In the center of the light sat a man with long white hair and skin pale as the moon. He wore a red shirt and dark pants. He played the harp which she heard, and he played it well.

Lysse froze as he turned around to face her. His red eyes glowed in the darkness. “Ah, breakfast.” His voice slithered as he considered her. He stood and took a stride before freezing in his tracks. “Wait. I don’t recognize you. Who are you?”

Lysse found her mind clear and her limbs limber. A sword hung on the wall near her. She could fight the Beast. “I am Sister Lysse.”

“A Sister?” he gazed back at her, confused. “Oh. My new tutor. I hadn’t expected you for some time.” He paused, looking at her. “I’m afraid that the word about me is quite poor.” He walked over to her with an energetic step.

Lysse glanced at the sword, but stood still. The prince’s jovial attitude did not seem to be that of a cursed creature. She tensed, but let him approach. In the dim light by the door, his red eyes seemed brown. He offered out a hand. A large green stone rested on a golden ring on his middle finger.

Not knowing what to do, Lysse bowed and went to kiss his hand. The prince laughed, gently. The sound was pleasant.

“I’m sorry. I meant to shake your hand, not make you perform obeisance to me. Come, sit, we will talk.”

The prince gestured to a couch and sat opposite her. Lysse studied him as she tried to find her footing on this strange day. Prince Edris had a thin face and wore a boyish smirk. Wide, bright eyes watched her closely. He might have been handsome, only his nose was wrong for his face; small and bulbous. His teeth were ordinary, not sharpened vampiric fangs. Tall, but not overly so, he had the frame of a warrior and lean muscle to match. He had a small red mole shaped like a kidney bean just below his Adam’s apple. As she studied him, he watched her.

“You’re young,” he said eventually. His voice had a foundation of refinement to it, but with a harsh edge. Perhaps mocking her in her fear. 

Did he like young women? If so he would be disappointed. She looked to the sword on the wall, now further than ever. The prince’s eyes followed hers. She needed to distract him. “I am thirty, your grace. No longer a young woman.”

“Thirty is young. Usually the people they send me are much older. Not ancient, but established. Venerable, in a manner of speaking.”

Confused again, Lysse regarded the prince. Did he want to take her body? Probably not, considering how he talked about her. Why send a vampire venerable people? 

Lysse made a discission. If the prince was going to kill her, humiliate her, bathe in her blood, then she would have him say it outright now. Then she wouldn’t have to sit here and let him toy with her. “Why am I here? Do you mean to kill me?”

The Vampire, who had been regarding her with curiosity, frowned. Lysse thought she saw a hurt look hidden behind disappointment. He sighed, sinking into his seat. “No. I won’t kill you, bed you, or bath in your blood. I am not a vampire, witch, or sorcerer.”

A wave of relief washed over Lysse. She believed him. His voice held an earnest tone no vampire could mimic. Probably. Lysse had never met a vampire, or anyone who had. Let them remain in folklore.

“I am in need of a scholar to answer my questions,” Prince Edris continued. “You will stay with me as long as you can answer my questions. Then you will be sent on your way with your pay.”

So this was the tutor position. Well, High Elder Cosda had promised good pay. Lysse put on her teacher’s demeanor, the one for the children brought to the temple. She had a few years on the prince, maybe he would defer to her. Men usually wanted their mother to put them in their place.

“Right, well, if I am your tutor I want to know a few things. I have not agreed to take the position. And sit up when you speak with me. Show me some respect as one that can teach you.”

Prince Edris’ eyes went wide with momentary shock and he sat up. He even straightened his shirt. “I have questions too. Let’s exchange them. Blow for blow as knights.”

Sister Lysse straightened herself and banished her fears. This was just a young man. “I suppose I can agree to that. As a lady I will go first.”

Prince Edris snorted. “As a prince it is my right.” But he considered her and then waved his hand. 

“Good. A prince must be a gentleman first.”

That made the prince bray a laugh, throwing his head back. The cave echoed his exhilarated laugh all around her. A creeping worry came to her. Lysse tried to fight it, but the laugh was so unnatural. She looked behind her. There was nothing but the room.

“You don’t know any princes, do you?” the prince asked.

Lysse buried her terror beneath a stern mask. After today, she could face any of the gods without fear. “That is why you must set a good impression for me. When I am eighty (God Around let me live to tomorrow), I will be telling everyone I meet about you. I’m sure you want me to say nice things about a man that much is said about.”

In good humor the prince waved her on. Before she could ask the first question, the door opened and a wave of warm air blew through the caves. Prince Edris turned to the newcomers, a frightened looking woman in brown carrying a tray of food. No severed hands, no jugs of blood. Bread, porridge, and cheese. A glass of milk as well. The prince didn’t rise, simply sitting and waiting to be served. The maid did so quickly, before turning and walking as quickly as she dared from the room. Lysse got a glimpse of the door as it closed, those markings, wards to keep the evil at bay.

“Why are there magic wards on your door?” she asked.

Prince Edris was helping himself to his meal when he stopped. “Forgive me, lady. I must eat my breakfast. I should offer it to you. Would you like my food?” Petulance. The young man wanted to see how far the game went.

Lysse would take it as far as it went. “That counts as your question. Answer mine.”

The prince smiled as he tore a piece off his bread. He held it before his eyes, as though pondering it. “That would be an old teacher of mine. I don’t remember his name anymore. Something to do with birds. He claimed he was a sorcerer and could take the forms of animals. A proud man. A fool and waste of my time.”

He sighed, twirling the bread before his eyes. “I haven’t had many good tutors. Only men who thought they knew all the world. I caught him in a logical fallacy and proved his arguments false. He stormed out and carved those magic runes to keep me in this hellish prison. I walked past them just yesterday. He was a worse sorcerer than debater, and that says much.”

Lysse nodded at his answer. Formality would see her through this. “I see. No thank you. I ate before coming to this castle.” The food was in the prince’s mouth before she finished the thought. “How many tutors have you had?”

He shrugged as he spooned porridge into his mouth. He ate ravenously. “It’s hard to say. Some only lasted a day.”

“Only a day? What did you do to them?”

The prince grinned, porridge leaking from the corners of his mouth. He looked demonic in the half-light. Deliberately uncouth. She would let that slide. “Now, now. Don’t try to slip one past me. It’s my turn for a question. Where were you born?”

She clasped her hands in her lap to stop them from shaking. “Teave. On the Meuse River.”

“A lovely part of Count Maesullon’s lands. I rode through once on a campaign in my youth. The short ones can’t answer my questions, and grow angry when I disagree with them. I dismiss fools.”

“You disagree with your tutors.” A statement, not a question.

The prince cut off some cheese. “Of course. The way these people talk you would think they were the font of wisdom in the world. Ideas should be fought as enemies. Find every advantage against them, probe their weaknesses. An idea that cannot defend itself is not one worth having. The best foes and best ideas are worth of honor, and of keeping.”

Lysse wasn’t sure what to make of that. All her life had been dedicated to learning. She had been to the classes of learned elders and heard them speak on all manners of subjects. She listened to what they said, copied their words onto slate and then velum. Never had she thought that their words might be false, even where they disagreed with each other.

She looked at her prospective pupil. This man might just be a demon, but in a far too dangerous way to come from hell. He watched her as he ate. “You think I am wrong.” Another statement. “You think the way the world thinks. All Truth comes from the Gods. Certainly. Thus when a man discovers a piece of that Truth and shares it with the world — becoming knowledge — we foolishly decide that all the man says is Truth. But this is not true. Ideas must be attacked, because they must be worthy of retaining. Ideas, all ideas, but face scrutiny.”

Lysee found herself sitting forward. The man spoke of the gods as a believer. Not an apostate but a zealot. Not a beast, a scholar. Just what had High Elder Cosda gotten her into?

“There are many rumors about you.”

His face soured immediately, as it had when she first mentioned them. “I know. I know all of them. I have heard them all my life. I have heard from courtiers and soldiers. Every rumor about me is repeated, often to my face. I am an albino, and so all the world names me a dark sorcerer. The Vampire. A werewolf. I cavort with witches and have demons to do my bidding. I am sick of it all. Look at me. I am just a man.”

And he looked it. Lysse pitied the prince as she watched him. Young, well-muscled. His face was handsome enough, though his eyes flashed frighteningly in the gloom. Had he any color to him the milkmaids would fall out barns as he rode past, and dream of being secret nobility to be whisked away in his arms. Instead, here he was. The prince focused on his food, avoiding eye contact.

“Why do you live down here? You are a prince. Your father is a powerful king. Your brothers live in large apartments.”

Finished with his meal, Prince Edris drank his glass of milk. His eyes burned with anger. “I would if it were possible. My skin burns in the sun. Mere minutes in sunlight leaves a rash. Ten leaves a burn and twenty burns so deep it scars my skin. I can’t see in sunlight. It’s too bright. The world becomes a blur. Here I can live in comfort, unbothered by my deformity.” He set the tray aside.

Here then was no evil man. Lysse saw a boy, trapped in a cell. “But you don’t have to live down here. You could have had tower of the castle, or an abbey.”

“And I would have to listen to the stupid rumors of me. All day. I could live in a tower, if I hung curtains to hide me from the sun. An abbey wouldn’t do. I would confront those poor little monks with the inadequacies of orthodoxy and they would throw me out. No, this is best for me.”

Lysse almost believed him. There had to be ways to live in the sun with his condition.  “But the air down here is so foul.”

“Perhaps in the dungeon. But the castle was built on a hill, and that hill had large caves beneath it. The foundation of the castle is built down here. I have fresh air and fresh water in the stream that rises from the hill. This is a paradise for me. Left to my own devices.” He fixed her with a glare, a chilling sight in the dim cave. He likely hated talking about all his pains. “So, teacher, what causes the flux?”

Lysse scratched her ear. She had studied medicine for a time, but knew more about geography and history. “Jaccam writes that flux is caused by miasma and the rising of the red star.”

Prince Edris shrugged. “Yes. I’ve read that too. At least you didn’t say the lax morals of the poor. I kicked out two tutors for that. I’m not convinced, but my knowledge on the subject is poor. I have not been to a sick house.”

“Other than instruct you, what do I do? Where do I sleep?”

“I have quarters set aside for my tutor. You will meet with me in the evenings and mornings. Else your time is your own. A key will be provided you. I don’t care what you do or where you go, excepting only my chambers. All I ask is that you teach me all you have to know.”

Lysse looked around the chamber. “You’ll have to show me around. Must I keep your hours? I never spent the nights except when I learned astronomy.”

“Not at all. Apart from my meals here, our time together will be short. I leave my chambers at night. A prince has responsibilities.” He rose, and gestured that she do the same. “When we are alone you may call me Ed. I don’t need ceremony here.”

He led her on a tour of the caves, starting in the luxurious space she had seen. There were no doors there as the spaces flowed from one to the next. A study, a library, a sitting room. Where the prince read the room was well lit, but only there. Elsewhere they moved through a gloom. Everywhere she could hear the sound of running water. He showed her the door to his room, a plan thing carved into the stone. He need not have warned her about entering. She had no intention to share a bed with him, regardless of his character.

The room he showed her was larger than any she had ever had. Ten paces wide and fifteen long. It had a high ceiling and many candles that she need not abide in the prince’s gloom. A bed fit for an elder at the far end, while a dresser and desk took up the rest of the room. To a lifelong devote to the holy orders, this was luxury. Lysse was happy to not share a room with anyone.

Lastly, the prince showed her a cavern beyond the rooms. There, a moderate stream bubbled from the earth and flowed out towards the city. The room was dark, and Lysse estimated that the stream was four paces wide, but that was only a guess in the dark. She could see out of the caves, were the rising twin moons filled the view.

Ed stood beside her. “There are some nasty cave fish in the waters. Aggressive. They can’t hurt you unless you wiggle a finger in front of them. There’s a bath down that way,” he pointed upstream. “Draw water from there. Waste also goes in the river, but downstream.”

Lysse scratched her ear. “The river runs through the city.”

“Yes,” Ed said. “It’s no worse than what they do to the river.” He paused and she looked at him. In the moonlight his pale skin looked like that of a corpse. His eyes burned. Lysse jumped at the sight. A flicker of irritation stole across his face. “I have much to do this night, and I expect you to be tired from all the trouble today. I will not see you in the morning and do not expect you to keep my hours. I will next require you tomorrow at the supper bell.”

He bowed and strode off, leaving Lysse alone in a cave. She waited a moment, watching the moons and feeling frazzled.

All her life spent in a quiet monastery, teaching and being taught. The prince was just a man. Probably. She hated that she still felt fear at the sight of him. He was as every villain in the stories she learned as a girl. If vampires were true things, then place one next to the prince and he would be the one dragged off to be burned.

Poor man. At least he was fortunate enough to be born a prince. Had he been born in the villages, he would not have outlived his first winter. Or he would be a holy man. One of the two.

Lysse turned on her heel and marched out of the cave. In her room, she checked things over for sleep. Her little pack of clothes and books had been brought down and were set on the bed. The bed itself comfortably and stuffed with goose feathers. Better than she had ever known. Her only wish was that the room had some airflow.

Before laying down, she checked the door and was relieved to see she could bar it from the inside.

III

When Lysse next woke, she found herself perfectly rested. Her dreams had been untroubled by vampires or red eyes. A little pang of guilt hit her for that, but no matter. Dressed in her shift she went to bath and found the cave brilliant with light. The rising sun struck the cave and filled it.

Curious, Lysse searched the water for the cave fish but found none. Wondering whether that was a joke by the prince, she began wandering the open cave to gather her bearings. She had been right with her guess the previous night. The stream was small and jumpable, by a young person at least. She did not like the thought of missing and bashing her head against the rocks.

The mouth of the cave revealed itself to be a drop of six feet into pooling waters below. A vulnerability to the castle. How did the prince sleep so easily knowing that anyone could come up here?

At the back of the cave she found a moderately sized tub and a bucket for filling it. She filled it in a pleasant mood that she often felt on sunny mornings and squeezed into the tub. The grime of the previous week of travel lifted right off as she cleaned herself with her hands. She hadn’t seen soap nearby.

Perhaps hygiene would be a topic of conversation that day.

Bathed and dressed she wandered the prince’s apartments wondering what she would do next. The door to his room was closed and Lysse had no intention of ever going in. So she wandered around to see if the place looked any different in the light of morning. It didn’t, except all the candles were out and a gloom set in. A small fire burned still in a brassier

Feeling it better to be prepared for her pupil, she wandered his library with a candle she lit in the fire. Troublingly, her pupil was wide read with copies of some books she had only ever heard of. She took out Yulemin’s Conversations on Death, the foundational text of philosophy. Quoted by all later philosophers and yet impossible to find. Many elders found it troubling and so it was not often copied in the writing-houses.

Prince Edris had a new copy, it seemed. Beautifully bound and illuminated. Lysse lit more candles and opened the book on the desk. She marveled at every page.

A knock echoed through the apartment. Lysse looked up. The prince? A moment later the door from the dungeon opened and a wave of hot air blew through the place. The pages of her book rustled. In strode a guard and a page. Neither looked pleased to be there.

“Sister Lysse, the king would speak with you.”

That took a moment to enter her mind. “Oh, right. Of course. I apologize.” She stood and hurried over to them.

They turned and walked out before she reached them. Together they marched back up the dungeon, past the miserable faces who didn’t seem to recognize her. They had all been sympathetic before. Now those same looks were dull.

When they stepped from the dungeon and into the castle, Lysse breathed freely. There had to be a better way of getting to the prince’s apartments. To walk by those faces whenever she needed a meal would not do.

The cave troubled her, and so as they wound through the castle to the court she spoke. “Do you know that the caves beneath the castle are accessible from the grounds?”

“Naturally,” the page said. “The king is well aware of all parts of his castle.”

“Really? Seems like anyone could wander in and murder his son. A besieging army that got past the first wall could enter the keep that way.”

The guard laughed. “A besieging army past the outer wall will get into the keep no matter the route. The wall is where we make out defense.”

That didn’t sit right with her. She would have to bring it up with Ed that night. “And his son? Is the king not concerned with someone trying to rid the kingdom of the Vampire? There is an awful lot said about him.”

“I don’t know the mind of the king.” That was all the page offered up.

Lysse spent the rest of the walk in silence. She would ask the king herself. The castle buzzed with activity that morning. Everyone seemed to be in good cheer as they walked the halls, their arms full of this and that. The energy was infectious. Lysse walked with a spring in her step.

Perhaps that energy came from feeling alive again. Yesterday had been terrifying. She didn’t know why no one told her that the prince was a mild-mannered young man. They had acted, and let her believe, that Edris was the monster they people said he was.

She was led into the Court of the Raven, home to the kings of Beaduex. Two fireplaces were set in the walls. Windows in the left wall gave light and fresh air. The room had a low ceiling, only eight feet, giving a tight feeling even though there weren’t many people about. There was a throne, a heavy carved wood piece but squat and unattractive.

King Gaulet stood by one of the fires, deep in conversation with Walem. Neither regarded her as the page had her wait across the room. The morning moved on. Hunger awoke in her. She hadn’t had much to eat in her journey. A plate of buns warmed by the fire opposite the king. A few people moved through the hall but no one would mark her if she just strolled over and took one.

She took a step towards them and stopped. The king hanged men for hunting deer in woods far away. What would he do to a woman stealing his bread right in front of him?

Fortunately, she never learned. The page began walking, driving forward the moment the king took a step back from his majordomo. “Your grace, the new tutor.”

Lysse followed the page much as she had the guards last night. Her legs moved of their own accord as she was pulled down towards the king. She had never seen a king before, but read many of their biographies and seen portraits in the illuminations.

This king was rather a disappointment. No aura attached itself to him. He was just a man. An ordinary face with an ordinary beard. In bearing perhaps he was more than many men, his shoulders held back and his eyes filled with a ruthless imperiousness. If there was a familial similarity between him and his son, it was in the unfortunate nose. Lysse had seen men like him in every village and town she had traveled through. Men who thought themselves a big fish in a small pond and yearned for more.

She spared only a glance for Walem, who watched her with a smirk. Thin men should not be in power.

“Ah, excellent. You teach Edris.” The king spoke with the tone of a man who had not been surprised in ages.

Lysse curtseyed. “Your grace.” There would no doubt be a etiquette for speaking to a king, but no one told her anything. She deferred to the way the elders liked to be treated.

“How is my son?”

“Um.” She paused. “Do you not know, your grace?” She hastily added the last. They lived in the same building after all.   

A storm passed over the king’s face. Lysse recoiled. Stupid. Here men did not like to hear what they did not say themselves. No axe blow came, however.

“No.” There was ice in his words. “I have not seen my son in a year. He refuses to come to any function.”

“Forgive me, your grace.” Lysse fought to keep her knees from knocking. “As a Sister, I am too familiar with living communally. I am unfamiliar with your ways. Your son is well, but lonely I think.”

“Naturally. He lives in a cave. Has he decided to take you on as a teacher?”

“He has.” Keep demure, don’t hold the king’s gaze for too long. She looked to Walem, whose smirk fell just a notch.

“Excellent.” The king puffed his chest and looked around the room. “Well. I will begin my progress through the realm in two days. My sons, apart from Edris naturally, will travel with me. You will remain and teach the man. The castle will have a castellan while I’m gone. If you need anything, ask him.”

Lysse naturally looked to Walem, a look King Gaulet saw. “Walem? No. He goes with me also. He is my right-hand man, after all.”

That was a relief. She didn’t want another word between herself and the majordomo. He delighted in misleading her. Last night, he saw how terrified Lysse had been, and let her feel it.

King Gualet turned, evidently done with this troublesome woman. But Lysse had one last question. One that popped into her mind fast as a spring dandelion. A troublesome question.

“Why not let Prince Edris watch the castle? Give him responsibility. Make a prince of him.” She didn’t know why she said it. Much less why she thought it. The words tumbled out of her. Prince Edris had done nothing for her, but she had to know why. Why had the king placed his third son in a cave?

King Gualet turned slowly and looked to Walem. The advisor’s face fell to stern and remained there. Without looking at her, Gualet answered. “That is impossible. The prince does not know the business of governing. He consumes his time with useless questions and swordplay. He is afraid of the sun and the castle cannot be governed at night.”

“Besides,” Walem entered the conversation smoothly. “There is the prince’s…reputation to mind. If Edris ruled here, there would no doubt be a revolt against him. Or worse.”

Worse? Lysse looked the majordomo in the eyes and saw the truth. This man played a game with the people around him. Enjoyed playing it. But he also believed that Prince Edris was what the people said he was.

No. The people said he was because this man said he was. He believed himself.

For a moment, the king looked troubled. He almost opened his mouth. Lysse thought he would rebuke his advisor, but the moment passed, and he walked off.  Walem considered Lysse for another moment, dark eyes considering her calmly. Then he turned away too.

Lysse stood alone in the throne room, people swirling around her as they packed up for the king’s progress. The world was mad. She looked out the window to the wide world beyond. There wasn’t a chain on her leg. The wide open world beyond.

She could leave. Right then. Walk right out of the mad house. Walk right back to High Elder Cosda and tell him that she turned down the offer.

But the pay was good. Fantastic. A year here and she could buy any book she wanted, no matter the difficulty in finding it. More practically, she could open her own school of learning, small though it would be.

Cosda knew that ambition. Lysse scratched her ear. Perhaps he had known that she wouldn’t leave, no matter the strangeness.

She sighed. The day grew before her. She left the throne room, and then the castle, walking down to the city surrounding. She didn’t know what she was going to do, but a day was an easy thing to spend.

Returning to the castle an hour before a reasonable man would have supper. Lateness would not do. A prince would not wait on a sister.

Once more down the dungeon, past blank eyed men. Lysses tried not to think about them. She had been appointed as a tutor, not a judge. The guards outside the prince’s chambers opened the door for her, the familiar breeze pushing her through.

The prince was not up, or at least not in the other rooms. Lysse sat down on a couch and thought.

Guards outside the door but none guarding the cave mouth. The door set to the apartment was banded with iron. Locked from the outside. The king must not have cared if his son got stuck with a blade. Or he encouraged it.

Lysse knew little of royal familial relations. They couldn’t be warm, not when the crown lay in the balance. In reading the histories, she knew about murder and lust after the crowns. A brother might strike a brother. A son might kill a father. But would a son be worth so little to a father that he would be tossed to freely to assassins? He had five children and four sons. There were no guarantees in royal succession.

A door opened behind her and she turned. The prince stepped out, his tangled long hair fell freely over his face. Mercifully, he wore pants and a shirt. Lysse suppressed a shudder. Her fear spiked looking at the man.

Prince Edris paused across his room. He looked surprised to see her. “Still here, I see.”

Lysse drew her lips into a line. “Your father hates you.”

Edris sighed, and walked to a jug of water. He poured himself a cup before walking over to sit down next to her. “He doesn’t hate me.” His voice touched on a plea. “He fears me.”

Lysse snorted. The unfortunate sound echoed through the cave. She winced hearing it. “Any man could crawl up the cave and kill you in your sleep.”

Edris swept the hair out of his face. His pink eyes regarded her steadily. In the red light, they held something sinister. Lysse felt her knees quiver. “Why would they want to do that?” he asked.

“There are rumors. Men still desire to win great feats. Killing you, a vampire — in their eyes — would win them fame. Even coin.”

His eyes burned with a primal shame. He held her eyes, but pain lived there. “I have committed no crime. I have hurt no man. No, that’s not true. I’ve killed three in battle ten years ago. And I drove my tutors to madness. Once I insulted a sorcerer because his magic disappointed me. But apart from them. I lived as any other man, yet had to crawl down here to be left alone.”

Edris offered a vulnerability Lysse had not seen often. Only in the loneliest nights in the temples when as girls they cried out for parents who had given them away for lack of food.

“Why does your father fear you?” Lysse spoke low and gently.

Edris sipped his water. “When he was a young man, third son of the king, he wandered the kingdom freely. Not the heir, not the second son. Third. Free.” He paused for the pair of them to enjoy the tragic comparison. “On his travels, he found a sorcerer. An albino.”

Lysse shivered despite herself.

“He spoke with the sorcerer and told him the deepest wish of his heart. To be king. The sorcerer smiled and promised he would be, but the price would be terrible. As he did to his brothers, so it would be done to his sons. Do you know the evil in your of blood? Few do.

“My uncles died that summer. My father became king. But now he feared, for he had guilt for his wish, and something to lose. My two brothers were born. I grew in my mother’s womb. He searched for the sorcerer and found him. Father demanded that he lift the price already set. He offered gold. He offered lands and titles. He was refused. Angered, he slew the sorcerer.”

“And you were born shortly after,” Lysse filled in.

“Yes. Albino. A ghost of father’s guilt. He sees the sorcerer in me. He sees his crimes in me. He waits for the hour when I break him by my strange powers and sorcery. He fears I will kill my brothers and seize what he took.” Edris fell silent and looked up to the ceiling.

“And you, Ed?” Lysse asked. “What do you feel?”

He looked at her startled. “Are you asking if I’m going to kill my brothers?” His question lay heavy between them. Then he burst out laughing. His laughter was high and disconcerting. Lysse reminded herself that he was just a man. “No. Of course I don’t. I love them, for my small part. I haven’t seen them in some years, and they never had much kindness for me, but still I love them. I must be a fool.”

Yes, just a man. A lonely man in a cave. Lysse knew elders who envied this life. “Thank you for what you have told me. You’ve set my mind at ease.”

The prince took some time to recover himself, then fixed her with a mirthless look. “And yet, you have not proven your worth to me.”

Lysse frowned. Edris schooled his face to calm better than she had ever seen. His eyes shimmered in the light, as though holding back a vast reservoir of rage. She opened her mouth to reprimand him when he burst forth laughing. He cackled, and Lysse found herself smiling as well, though hers was a stiff smile.

When he had calmed down, she spoke. “Yes, well. What is it you wish to study?”

Still smiling, he considered her, then shook his head. “I believe you know much of what you were taught, but I do not think you have the answer to the question I have. You don’t have it because I have read all the books same as you. The answer is not there.”

Lysse drew herself up. “Ask your question. I have studied much in my thirty years.”

He smirked and leveled his pink eyes at her. “Why is the world round?”

IV

“So that the God Beyond can hold it in his palm and turn it to face the sun.” Lysse repeated. There were a dozen reasons listed by wise philosophers, but this was the most recent. And the most pious.

Edris threw his cup away, disappointed. It clattered mournfully in the darkness. “No. No. That’s not it.” He grew animated and leapt up onto his seat. “That’s a stupid reason. Firstly, the God Beyond could take any form and so hold any object. Second, should the God Beyond be constrained to a hand, then there would be no trouble in viewing the earth in any number of shapes. I have a hand, and have no trouble in seeing the shape of a pinecone in my hand. Nor any other shape. Don’t insult me with that drivel.”

“My lord,” she began, but he raised a hand. “Ed. I am merely reciting the most recent reason offered, one accepted by all wise men.”

Edris jumped off his seat and began pacing. “So what? Wise men accepted all the other reasons for the roundness of the world. When Eronious said the world was round because it was a pearl, they all agreed. They calp their hands together and say ‘wonderful, you are so wise.’

He circled around her. Lysse felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as he did. Unfair though it was. “When Ilemne of Velem said that the world was round because it was an egg, all the wise men calp their hands together and say ‘wonderful, you are so wise.’ So now you see the problem. We all agree that the world is round, but no one can say why.”

Lysse took a deep breath before answering. He paced like a wolf. In the half-light of the room, it was hard not to think of him as one. She went to the oldest and wisest of philosophers. “Arsito the Broad say the world is round because a sphere is the perfect shape.”

Edris threw up his hands. “But it’s not. The world was a sphere long before he was born and has continued to be one long after he died. We do not live on a sphere because Aristo liked spheres. Surely the three gods did not consider his personal preference when building the world. Else it should be a pyramid.”

“Why?”

“Because I like pyramids just as much as he took to spheres. And the gods should weigh my preference above that of some dirty wrestling philosopher because I am a prince.” He looked to her, his chest heaving as his frustration boiled out of him.

Lysse tried to provide a calm front. There was not reason to be worked up by such small things. “Take a seat. There are some things that are only for the three gods to know. Perhaps this is one of them.”

He snorted. “It is not heresy to wonder. Yet I sit here and read the works of wise men and can see for myself that their work is not wise. I seek the truth and will not content myself with poor answers. I have read every reason and know them all to be false. The truth remains from us. So long as it does, we will happily fool ourselves with these japes.”

He still paced, but less frantically. His breathing steadied. “All the world spread out before them, yet they are happy to spew drivel. I who am confined here for fear of them — or rather from their fear of me — must sit and read the nonsense they write.”

Despite herself, she pitied the prince. “I don’t know why the world is round.”

Edris clapped his hands together. He returned to his seat. “You don’t know. A scholar who doesn’t know.”

Lysse bore the shame. She sat, a thin smile on her lips as the prince mocked her lack of knowledge. She had never been a scholar, at least not of the sort that discovered things. All she knew came from others.

“Do you know, you’re the first scholar to say that? At least that I’ve met. You are the first to admit to the limits of your knowledge. Every other one that came to me told me they knew everything in their field. So I tested them. I pushed their knowledge until we reached their limits. Still I pushed. Invariably they failed.” He ran his fingers through his tangled hair. “They couldn’t accept that there was knowledge beyond their reach. Perhaps somewhere there is a scholar with humility. But if there are, they don’t go wandering into caves. No. You are a breath of fresh air, Sister Lysse. I would gladly have you as my tutor.”

He paused in his rant, his unfocused eyes stared into the gloom.

Lysse sat back on the couch. When Edris got going, the words tumbled out of his mouth at tremendous speed. His cheeks flushed and his hands clenched repeatedly. The shadows clung tight to him. “Now that I am engaged in this business, I’m certain we can come to an understanding between us.”

Edris looked at her. Every time he did she startled. If she was going to be his tutor, she would have to calm that impulse. He was her student. It wouldn’t do to jump when their eyes met.

“You are my tutor; I am your prince.” That hung in the air between them.

Lysse tried to puzzle out what he meant by that. He had asked her to call him Ed whenever they were alone. She tried to puzzle out how she could treat him as a pupil and a prince. What she came up with involved quite a lot of capering around him. Suitable for a young prince, perhaps, but not a man.

He smiled, then laughed softly. The laugh was tinged with a touch of his wildness. “I don’t expect such things. You would be the first in many years. In the pursuit of knowledge we are equal. You are not a teacher, perhaps. More of a companion. In public I am a prince. In private, I am just me.”

“That’s all well and good, but I would like the same from you. I am Sister Lysse, a rank I obtained through hard study. When it is just us you might call me Lysse. I need you to treat me with respect, no matter where we are. I am in your employ. In your trust, I hope. You will not mock me. Do you understand?” Her heart fluttered as she imagined the implications of speaking thus to a prince.

Edris considered her before bowing his head. “I do. Do you often struggle with this?”

Lysse grimaced. “In my time at the temple, I have seen every type of student. Quite a few were given a birching.”

“I trust you won’t use such methods with me,” Edris said, amused.

“Not if you watch your tongue.” She had meant that as a warning, but the prince smiled. He stood and walked over to his books. Lysse watched him pass, her hairs raised. How could a woman tell her hairs to relax. “Your father and the whole court is leaving here in a few days.”  

Edris paused, his hand just above the book Lysse had left out that morning. “I know. They do so every summer. From what little I understand, there is to be a tourney somewhere as well. The bridges of Exeu, perhaps.”

“I asked about you.” Lysse stood so she could look him in the eyes.

Edris reached out and closed the book. He returned it to the bookshelf. “I expect the answer you received surprised you.” He didn’t look at her.

Shamefully, Lysse preferred it that way. “It did.”

Edris ran his fingers down the spine of Conversations on Death. “And now that you know the way of things, the picture must be clear.”

“I asked that you be given responsibility. If all the court were to leave then you should be trusted with the castle. To your father. And the majordomo.”

Edris barked a laugh. Turning, he looked at her with a burning mirth that she would have mistaken for rage but for her knowledge of the prince. “I’m sorry for you. Truly. You must have been met with a hostility that surprised you.”

So he knew then. “Yes. Walem has a special dislike for you.”

“That he does. Sometimes I think he believes I am a sorcerer and vampire. That I have not cast a single spell in all my years of life does not convince him. If I could he’d be dead.” He smiled at the thought.

“So you’re not a sorcerer?” Lysse had never met one. The elders discouraged the practice. They found it a distraction from true learning. “I thought you studied under them.”

Edris didn’t mock her for the question. He met her eyes with a knowing look. “No. I’m not. I’ve met sorcerers, some I even believe were real. Five at most. All of them tried to cure me of my wickedness through spells.” He looked down at himself. “I don’t think there was any wickedness to begin with.”

Lysse gave him a thin smile. “You would like to join them on their progress, wouldn’t you?”

Edris nodded. “I am a prince. It is my privilege to progress with the court. My brothers will be drinking and shouting and building client networks to make them rich in their old age. I have angry fish that bite my fingers if I’m not careful. We are done on this topic.”

That was that, then. Lysse wanted to know more, but didn’t push the prince any further. She opened her hands. “Then we must begin our studies.”

Edris bowed his head to her. They began.

V

The following days passed quickly. Lysse found herself too tired to worry about politics. When she woke she did one of three things: talking to Edris about their studies, sitting in the castle library beyond the time when witches deemed it proper to be about, or sat in a stupor trying to organize her thoughts into the next meeting with the pale prince.

She began taking frequent naps as her schedule naturally drifted towards his own. Edris ate breakfast when others supered. Then they had their first lesson for hours. From there Edris went to train himself with his sword or his horse. Some nights he went to the tallest tower to argue with his father’s astronomers and astrologers. Mercifully he did not need Lysse for those conversations. Then he came down to his dungeon just as the fingers of dawn seized the horizon for his second lesson. These sometimes lasted until midday.

In their conversations, she occasionally found it difficult to concentrate, and forgot things she once knew. Who did live east of Lecado, and why would anyone care? Increasingly she felt lost as they researched what she had never sought before. Why. All Edris wanted was why, and Lysse didn’t know why.

For his part, Prince Edris seemed cheerful. He never raised his tone with her, though he sometimes grew passionate when feeling particularly stumped in the search for knowledge. Then he would walk around in great circles, his hands convulsing and his eyes wild. His voice, however, remained even, though it sped up.

Lysse still shuddered occasionally when with him. She did so especially when they were reading late into the night, and the light caught his eye to make them look red. When he saw her shudder, his face fell and she was dismissed not long after.

The two of them had their run of the caste after the court left for the summer progress. There were some guards to watch over things and some plodding elders to maintain things, but otherwise the castle was an empty house. Somewhere there was a castellan appointed to watch over the city and castle, but Lysse had not seen him in all her wanderings.

No doubt he would be someone acceptable to Walem, and cast from the same mold of suspicion. For any such person a chance encounter with the vampire prince from the dungeon would ruin their day.

Perhaps the prince’s lightened mood was due to the progress. All the people who thought he would come to kill them were far away and he could pursue his quests without interference. The only prince in a castle was a might man.

Lysse mused on that one night as they were in the library again, books spilled out before them. She stared at the book before her. Across the table Edris sat perched on his seat like some white eagle.

“What have you found?”

She blinked. Pulled from his distraction, she quickly read the page before looking up. “Nothing. Just some monk writing on Ilemne. Whichever monk wrote this was a bitter man.”

His pink eyes glimmered in the weak light. “Why?”

Lysse sat up straight and rubbed her eyes. “Because he has dutifully copied out Ilemne’s works and in the margins put every reason he thinks she was a fool.”

Edris looked over the at her book. “Surely there cannot be that many reasons. Her work is very short.”

“And yet…” Lysse opened her hands and gestured.

Edris was silent a moment, looking at the book. Then he raised his gaze to her. “You sound disappointed.”

Lysse glowered. “I am. I do not wish to be so harsh, but this is not the life I thought I would have in here.”

Edris cocked his head but said nothing. He merely waited for her. No one had ever waited for her to speak. Elders only ever wanted to hear what they already said.

Lysse took a deep breath before continuing, organizing her thoughts as she did. “I thought that I would be teaching the young prince. Your nephew, I mean. I thought I would spend a year teaching the math and geography I know how to teach. The knowledge that the generations have accrued. That much I know.”

“You feel useless.” His tone held a touch of curiosity, but no sympathy.

Lysse smiled at him. “Of course I do. You have a curious mind, Ed, but it is searching for answers we can’t find.”

A look of shock came over him. “You’ve only been with me the better part of a week. Give up now and you’ll barely have the coin to get back to your monastery.”

Lysse chuckled weakly. “No, but I am a sister. Please don’t think that I give up on teaching you, but what you seek I do not know how to find.”

He hoped of his seat and stood straight, a sign Lysse no recognized as the precursor to the prince prowling.

“No. You don’t know.” Edris smiled at her. Then he began strolling around the library at a comfortable pace. His silver hair fell over his face, so that he might have been an old man but got his vigor. “No one knows. We have just begun our investigation into the order of the world and already we have discovered that no one knows why the world is the shape it is. No one knows.”

Lysse admired his energy, but her spirits didn’t raise. “There is no way to discover the reasons. There are some questions that can only be answered by the three gods. Perhaps if you gathered all the sorcerers in the world, and had them pour all their magic together. Maybe then you could find an answer. Otherwise, you could wander the earth entire and never discover the reason.”

His pace quickened. “Wander the earth. Yes. What I wouldn’t give to do so. All the wise men can do it. Loose themselves on nature.”

“Why not? You can wear clothes to prevent the burns. And a hat.”

“Of course. The only problem would be the eyes.” His pace was frantic. He might have marched all the way to the city gates before the end of the conversation. “I can’t investigate the natural world if I can’t see it. Moles do not make nests as birds do. They did a hole and content themselves with it.”

“That, and the people you come across would be likely to attack you.”

Edris laughed. “Not in a scholar’s study I’m not. I train with a sword often enough that I have nothing to worry from stuffy elders.”

“No, I was thinking more about traversing the countryside.”

Edris paused in his walking and looked to her. “That would depend much on how we are met. I figure I could see off four bandits with knives. But a local lord seeking to sort things for Walem could be trouble.”

Lysse puzzled that one over. As she did, her eyes drifted over to the windows where darkened stained glass depicted great wise elders of the past. The flickering light of the candles reflected back at her. Pin pricks in the glass.

An idea came to her.

She stood, and raised a hand. “I’m going to bed. I have an idea.”

Edris nodded, then resumed his walk around the library, muttering to himself. Lysse left he library and hurried down to her quarters.  She walked up and down the dungeon tunnels so frequently that she no longer saw the sorrowful faces staring at her in the gloom. She made a small note to herself and went to bed.

The following morning she bathed, dressed, and begged Edris’ pardon as she left the apartments. He watched her go with a puzzled look on his face. She left the castle clutching her little note in her hand. It took her the better part of the morning to find a glass maker, one who could make lenses for eyes.

It then took another hour for her to explain what she wanted done. The master glass maker charged her an eyewatering sum, but she knew that if her idea worked, then Edris would pay off the invention.

As the craft shop worked to craft her order, Lysse found a small corner where she could nod off without getting in the way. Blissful sleep came to her as all the sleep she had been missing rushed over her.

When she woke, the workshop glowed with a comfortable warmth. Night had fallen across outside the windows. Across the room apprentices sat in a line, their breaths labored and bodies sweating. New glass covered the tables of the room. 

Lysse stood. Her back seized up. “Ow. Ow.” Stiff from her nap, she shuffled over to the nearest table and there began to stretch. The piece before her were gorgeous. Colored glass set into metal. There were faces and birds alongside words. Parts of great windows that would soon adorn a lord’s manner.

The master walked up to her. A heavy man slick with sweat. She smiled up at him as she stretched her muscles. “You are quite the craftsman.”

The master didn’t say anything. Instead he pulled a wooden box from a shelf and placed in in front of her. Before her was the piece. It looked perfect. She left her coin purse on the table as she promised to bring more.

That earned her a stern look from the glass maker, but she promised as a sister. She hurried back to the castle. The last vestiges of light hung on the horizon as she hurried back. Lysse watched the unveiling stars, her hands held tight around her creation.

At the gate, she got some gruff from the guards, but they let her pass when she mentioned Edris. Ahead loomed the castle, illuminated by the fires inside. Starlings sang among the trees and bushes inside the first wall.

Lysse sighed as she trudged up the walk to the keep. Up, up, up, then down, down, down. The river rushed under the wall only a stone’s throw away from her. She slowed, then stopped. The castle loomed so large and the river was so close.

Her mind made up, she left the road and walked over the broken ground to the cave that was her destination. The ground was rough and broken, but she plowed through it determined. If she saved herself a single step, then the diversion would be worth it. No more staring into the faces of hopeless men.

Lysse navigated rocks and shrubs as she climbed up the hill to the foundations of the castle. Her going was slow. By the time she reached the little drop, her legs burned from the effort.

At the cave mouth, she paused to catch her breath. The stream came out of the cave and fell down six feet of sheer stone. When she had recovered her breath, Lysse tested the wall for hand holds to clamber over. She didn’t find one.

Lysse grumbled. Short and stocky, she could just barely touch the rim if she jumped. After three failed attempts which left her with nothing but bruised forearms, she stopped herself. Madly throwing herself at a wall. If only her sisters could see her then.

She took her little box in a hand and jumped, sliding it onto the ledge. In the deep night, the keep gate would be barred. She would spend the night huddled against the stone. Not willing to get soaked with water too, she could only try one side of the wall. She paced it, looking for a rise or boulder she could stand on, but found none.

Her eyes on the earth, she didn’t see an approaching light. She turned and fell down to the ground in surprise. Edris stood in the mouth of the cave, a candle in his hand and his blade drawn. He looked startled.

“Out for a stroll?” he asked. His eyes flickered to the little box.   

Lysse imagined what she must have looked like then, her hair falling over her face and her simple brown dress dirty from her little adventure. “I didn’t want to walk down the dungeon again. I thought this was a short cut.”

He grinned. It did not endear him to her. “You must have been out here long.”

“Laugh all you want. Maybe put that sword away, unless you have cause to fear me.”

Edris did, but not until he had gawked at her some more. Sword laid down, he sat down on the ledge, his feet dangling over. He held the candle just below his chin. Even in its soft light his skin shone white.

Lysse stood below, glowering up at him. “Well?”

He cocked his head.

Lysse mimed being helped over the wall.

“Oh. My apologies. I thought you would want to clamber over yourself.” He set the candle aside and lowered his hands.

Lysse reached up and took his hands. Edris then heaved her up with a single pull. Lysse managed to maintain just a tad more dignity than a sack of potatoes. Her feet on the cave stone, she huffed.

Edris sat down on the cave mouth, breathing hard. “Not as light as I imagined. You could have helped me pull you up.”

Bruised by her earlier scrambling, Lysse was in no mood for banter. She sat down beside him and rubbed her forearm. “Some of us are not warriors. Some of us have only ever gone up and down with stairs and ladders.”

Edris grunted. He had found the little box. “I don’t mean to be rude, but you have missed two sessions when we could have delved deeper into the nature of the world.”

Lysse frowned. “I have a good reason. I thought I would make something for you. Or rather, have it made for you.”

Edris stared at her. He looked stunned.

She reached for the box and pulled out the contents. It was a small pair of glasses the frame made of metal and in such a fashion as to hung the skin closely, especially along the peripheral. The glass itself was dark grey, nearly black. She offered them to him.

He reached out hesitantly, almost unsure. “You bought me glasses.”

“Yes. Do you like them?”

Edris took up the candle again and held the glasses close to the light. He spent a long moment observing them. “I have seen some men wearing these. I understand that they improve your vision.”

“That’s the idea.” Lysse tried a reassuring smile. “You read well enough by candlelight, so I thought that dark glass would protect your eyes during the day.”

He put the glasses on. They were a little small, pinching around the nose and Lysse saw the corner of his eye peaking out, but on the whole she was pleased with the craftsmanship. His pink eyes replaced with black glass, he had a sinister look about him.

“I can’t see anything,” he said, looking around.

“It’s night. In the day I’m sure they will work.” In truth, Lysse hadn’t considered that.

Edris cocked his head. “So you haven’t tested them in the light?”

“No, but they will work. It’s just dark glass.”

“Hmm.” Edris brought the candle close to his eyes. “Maybe. I can see the flame.” He took the glasses off and looked them over. “I do like the style. Silver and black. Roguish.” He stood up. “Thank you. I don’t have many gifts.” He tilted his head to her, then picked up his sword. He walked back through the cave.

He left the candle behind for her. Uncertain of the hour of the night, Lysse continued to rest beside the stream until her arms felt better. Tomorrow she would look like a pugilist rather than a sister.

Slowly, she gathered herself and stood up. Taking the candle, she looked into the water. Edris said there were fish in it, but she didn’t see any. Exhausted, she headed for bed.

Lysse didn’t know why she ordered the glasses for him, but she had been seized by the thought. If he liked them, then maybe they could meet at a reasonable hour. Or even leave the cave to find someone who actually knew what was going on in the world.

Back in the apartments she crossed the path of Edris, who was just leaving his room. The room was well-lit by fire. His sword rested on his shoulder. He had a wild grin. “I do like them,” he said. “In bright light, I can almost see well. In the full light…perhaps I can see.”

Lysse smiled. His joy was a bright light to stand in. “I’m glad you like them. I need to lay down, but I trust we will meet in the morning.” She started past him, then paused. “Oh. I owe money to the glassmaker who made this. Can I trust that the coin will reach him?”

Edris shook his head. “You have spent only a few weeks in the court and already you have learned to spend beyond your means. Yes, I will get coin to him.”

“Thank you,” Lysse said. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“You didn’t. Goodnight.” Edris walked to the door.

Lysse walked on, and felt the familiar gust of wind tugged at her back. As she prepared herself for bed, she couldn’t help but feel that she had started something large. A rock falling down a mountain side that would not stop rolling until it reached the sea.