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I can see a sheepish face behind my father, that of my annoying two-faced attendant whom Emma recently reported is back in the empress’ pocket.

His hands are clasped behind his back. But the emperor’s face, usually stony and carved from ice, looks a touch warmer.

“Get dressed. There is somewhere for us to go.” He is not a man of many words when it comes to me and soon sweeps out to one of the outer rooms of my western apartments. I often forget that we actually live quite close to one another, literally within the same building, until moments like these.

After my father and the few members of his protective retinue that followed him inside exit my rooms, I’m left with a bewildered Marie who just rushed in with a face puffy from sleep and the few attendants who have been on standby throughout the night on duty. As part of their task, one of them should’ve informed me of my father’s arrival the moment he so much as approached my side of the central palace.

“You failed to inform me of my father’s arrival,” I say under my breath as I sweep past Nina, the head attendant. “Go get punished once my father and I have left for the day.”

“Yes, your highness.” Her false pitiful face makes me want to swing a fierce punch at her face, even if that would mean that by tomorrow, the palace and the entire capital would be abound with rumors of my cruelty.

I’m amazed at her stupidity. But in a way, this is what I wanted. I kept her close to free myself of rumors of being harsh to those who serve me and on the off chance that the empress would entice her back to her services. Who would’ve thought that Katya would be stupid enough to do so?

I catch myself though, giving Nina’s back a critical eye. I cannot give in to hubris and overestimate myself. The empress is no fool and she rarely does anything without reason. So it begs the question, why would she reuse a discarded pawn? I narrow my eyes as an insidious thought occurs to me.

.....

Was this a tactical maneuver meant to draw my suspicions away from another potential spy close to me? Even closer than Nina?

“Your highness,” Marie calls from the bathroom, dragging me out of my thoughts. “Your bathwater has been drawn.”

I smile at her, which she can probably hardly see in the half-darkness of the early morning and the sputtering candles that line the hallway outside my room.

“On my way,” I sing back, still reeling from the surprise from this morning that has woken me up far more effectively that the blackest cup of coffee. Getting ready much earlier would normally make me miserable, but the anticipation of what is to come leads me to be ready within half an hour.

Marie helps me tug on matching gloves to my cloak despite my protests.

“It’s too hot for gloves. Do you really think we are leaving the palace?” I ask her, curious how she deduced such a thing.

She nods firmly. “Only a few of them followed since we are inside your chambers, but beyond your rooms, there are enough guards on standby for him to leave the palace for an outing.”

“Your eyes and insight are sharp and true,” I compliment, finding her reasoning quite sound.

“Your highness,” Marie blushes from flattery. I cannot help myself anymore! I go in for one of her bear hugs, more addictive than sugar or any drug. That perpetual emptiness within my chest abates for a few heartbeats, briefly scared away by the warmth.

My father appears in the doorway and Marie backs away for her safety.

“I’m ready to leave,” I say, uneasy at the way his gaze lingers on Marie for a beat too long. He nods curtly, his long legs carrying him far ahead of me as we depart the central palace. Perhaps out of habit, we pass the halls outside his own apartments, a place I had once avoided at all costs just a few years ago.

The outdoor hallways supported by marble hallways are a maze long mastered by both the emperor and I. Even if it weren’t for my father and his guards’ loud steps, I would be able to navigate my way to the gates with a blindfold on. We pass by the hedge outside of Sunset Palace and I hear faint speech within it. No doubt they are preparing for the Ladies’ Court that is to be held later today. No matter where Emperor Helio is taking me, I’m sure I will find it far more delightful than my first and last Ladies’ Court. Still, curiosity bites at my heels and urges me to speak.

“Where are we going?” I ask my surly-looking, black-clad father as the footmen ready step stools and the coachmen check the reins for the horses.

“Out.” A man of few words, my father.

“Tell me where. I’m curious,” I insist in a rare performance of petulance. My bottom lip sticks out and there is a hint of a whine in my voice. I do genuinely wish to know. I’ve run through a thousand possibilities in my mind, but none offer a plausible explanation for why my father would appear before my room so abruptly on a weekday when he should ordinarily be meeting with government ministers and running the country.

My father looks down at me, his shadow obscuring my smaller figure so I am standing in the dark even though the blue sky is shining overhead.

“You will like it,” he answers simply.

I should’ve known it wouldn’t be so easy to coerce an answer out of an emperor. But still, the corner of my mouth quirks up against my will as I’m helped onto the carriage, a discreet thing that projects an image of us simply being well-to-do citizens rather than royalty. We shall ride the same one today. I’m not sure if we’ve ever done that before.

He leans an elbow on the window sill and stares outside the whole time, leaving me to stare at him unabashedly the whole ride. Sometimes I am still stupefied at the thought that this man is my father. It has always felt like such an abstract idea. A desire I’d once had in my youth, my real youth, and one I had put to bed in my past life. I’d lied to myself time and time again that I was perfectly satisfied with my mother and had no need for another parent. And yet, in a cruel twist of irony, I have been given the secret desire I had held in my heart as a child and stripped of the parent who had truly loved me.

I look away and gaze out at my own window.

“We’re here.” I jerk upright and stare out the window. There are people coming and going along with a sprinkle of sturdily constructed buildings that belie our location to be one that is reasonably well off. But I do not know Radovalsk well enough to place where we might be at the moment. My flower-selling days did not take me much further than a few blocks beyond the iron-wrought gates of the palace.

“Hm? Oh,” I slide out of my seat, where my father helps me down the steps in lieu of a footman.

I cannot help but look around in wonder, curious about what this surprise was meant to be. Then I see it. Just behind where the carriage is parked, a mahogany brown, 2 story building bearing the construction style common for government-funded structures looms over us.

“The trial,” I exhale, connecting the dots. My stomach twists up in knots rather than glee. “I cannot be seen here.”

“We won’t be. Come,” my father responds. He hops up the stairs two at a time.

The trial must be in session for there are few people outside yet I can hear the din of overly curious citizens inside. Upon entering the significantly cooler building, my father leads me past the front desks down a narrow corridor. We take a left and a right, our steps padded on carpeting. Only one guard follows us, but I know the others are hidden nearby, maybe even less than a stone’s throw away. We encounter no one, which allows my raised, nervous shoulders to settle down a bit.

“Where is Lord Amarelius?” I ask as we walk, making not-so-light conversation. My informants have let me know that he left the capital just under a month ago, for unknown reasons.

“Away. As the captain of the royal guard, his duties can take him beyond the palace walls quite often.”

“For this long?” Suddenly my father is moving aside a trashcan in the hall, carrying it a few steps away and setting it down without breaking a sweat.

“If I tell you, you will not get the opportunity to listen in on the trial you orchestrated.” He knocks on the wall, a hollow sound ringing out of the rich wood rather than the heartier sound one would expect.

“So you approve then. Of Lord Berrick’s humiliation and castration?” I ask gleefully. Although half of that excitement stems from the fact that my father’s knocking swiftly bears fruit as something clicks in the wall and a sweet little door swings open just like it did for Alice in Alice in Wonderland.

“Castration?” My father repeats in a disgruntled voice.

I smile dubiously and walk into the little room my father has prepared for me. This miniature listening box has comfortable padded seats in a royal blue color. It lines the wall like a booth, with a table at its center piled high with sweets. On the opposite side of the petite door I had entered through, there is a latticework window of sorts. Thousands of small perforated holes in a square shape allow me to look into the very courtroom where the divorce trial is occurring. I know that from within the courtroom, it must simply look like an air vent or something equally discreet.

“Thank you,” I smile warmly at my father, instantly getting comfortable as I survey the prime position this box was set. It’s just between the witness stand and the crowd, allowing me to hear all testimonies perfectly as well as the idle gossip from the crowd. I won’t be able to come every day due to lessons, but there is nothing like the unexpected pleasure of suddenly gaining the privilege to watch Operation Blue Balls occur with my very own eyes.

While I bite down into a croissant, I can see that Emperor Helio is inching his way out, ducking down due to the low ceiling as he tries to escape and probably return to his work. But now that I’ve been presented with such a prime opportunity, how can I deprive him of such an entertaining show?

“Sit. Please,” I add when I can tell my one-word command doesn’t have the intended effect. I have to walk the line between familiarity and respect carefully in a way I haven’t done often enough in this world.

He shakes his head. “I am busy.” As if on cue, a knight of the royal guard holds open the door from the outside. I’m sure the emperor has a lot on his plate, but I’m not a quitter.

“Let us at least remain long enough to pass lunch together in here,” I offer instead around a mouthful of pastry. “I do not think I have had the pleasure of doing that with you.”

He tugs his mouth to the side, staring at me like I’m a curious trinket he is trying to fully comprehend. It invokes a memory of the past when I’d last seen such an expression from the emperor. Unbidden, my mind conjures up the image of my father beheading a man and then forcing me to heal him in order to study my healing abilities. The intrusive thought causes me to wince.

“Are you unwell?” A warm hand suddenly rests on my forehead and I jump.

My tongue trips over itself as I struggle to reply. “Yes, I mean no, I’m perfectly fine. Well, if you must go... then I understand. May Helio’s light guide you.”

I look up and stare at the flat golden eyes that had forced me to heal 3 men on the verge of death, staining my hands and dress. I’d washed my hands for days after that, although I doubt he knows that or cares.

It is like a flip has switched. Suddenly this cute little listening spot is cramped and claustrophobic. I want to leave and put some distance between myself and the man I now call a father. I pat my chest and force myself to smile, although it is admittedly more strained than it was a moment before.

It’s as if there are a thousand voices in my head screaming for me to leave, screaming for me to return to the palace. My breathing quickens and my other hand that isn’t patting my chest is squeezing the fabric of my dress. I had thought I put these feelings to rest, this unnecessary and unexplainable panic that occasionally seizes me without warning. I cannot have another freak-out in front of the emperor.

“I think... I think I just need some water. I will be right back! Don’t enjoy the show too much without me!” I throw over my shoulder as I rush out of the little room into semi-fresh air.

The guard looks mildly surprised as I barrel past him and disappear around the nearest corner. But I don’t have time to perform a proper, polite exit. My back presses against the wall, the back of my bonnet hitting the wallpaper as I lean my head back as well.

“I’m fine,” I whisper. “I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. You’re alright. Why are you acting like this? You are fine, Winter. A+! A-ok.”

My hand beats on my chest like a metronome. I exhale a few calming breaths, surreptitiously checking the corner to make sure neither my father nor the guard followed me. Maybe if I tell myself enough times that everything is ok, it will be.

Even if deep down, I know that everything most definitely isn’t.