Chapter 1: The Explanations

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The candlelight spluttered and danced in the draft, alternately throwing the rough stone walls into shadow or sharp relief. Magali's shadow slipped in and out of the darkness as she paced, her footsteps rapping sharply on the floor. Her hands were clenched and her lips were pulled tight and bloodless. Caer and Abram's eyes tracked her back and forth warily. The crown she had forgotten to take off was still nestled in her now considerably more wild curls. No one wanted to be the one to bring it to her attention.

"How dare she? How could she?" She fumed, stalking across the room again. "I'm the princess! I'm going to be her queen!" Her gaze swept across the room, landing on Caer as if accusing him of having lied about this fact. He nodded vigorously, a little scared of the anger that seemed to boil off her skin.

She nodded decisively. "I'm going to be her queen, and she spit in my face." The aura of authority that surrounded her righteous anger faltered as she wrung her hands. "But letting her go was my only choice, wasn't it? She would have killed Nemia. And what she said was true, that would have been dangerous for everyone, right? That's not a myth?"

Caer shook his head. "I don't think so. It's hard to confirm, of course, because one can't simply kill a couple of Guardians to test the theory, but we have substantial historical evidence that the violent deaths of Guardians on Solangian land coincides with dangerous natural phenomenon like earthquakes, tidal waves, droughts..." His voice died out as her fury returned.

"And she would have risked all that just so I wouldn't win!" She fumed. "Well, I hope Nemia is happy she was more loyal to her Thief than she was to me, now. Now that she knows how much her life is worth to her."

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Nemia looked up from her paper and sighed, watching Morane stare out the window of their inn room in a way that could only be described as violent. Violent staring. Sounded about right. "You're not still upset about what happened in the clearing, right? I knew the whole time that you wouldn't hurt me."

"It's not about that." Morane leveled her glare with more ferocity out the window, like her eyes would melt the glass with sheer emotion. "In the most shocking turn of events, if you remember, having to hold you hostage to escape our dear princess is only the second worst thing to happen this week."

Nemia winced. She'd actually been trying to engage Morane in a conversation that would take both their minds off that. They'd both been a bit shaken up since Gordan dropped the truth about their generation of Guardians.

Morane turned away from the window in a restless spin, throwing herself onto Nemia's couch. "Are you sure you don't feel like the Assassin? At all?"

"Not even a little," Nemia confirmed, pulling Morie closer. She couldn't help feeling a little sorry that she was so happy about it, but... it was wonderful. She wasn't the Assassin. She could deal with the guilt of taking one life and stop worrying about what would be expected of her in the future. She wasn't a killer. Not just because she couldn't stand the aftershock, but because the stars said so. And you couldn't argue with the stars, though Morie honestly seemed to be trying.

With a small sound of disappointment, Morie stuffed her face against Nemia's shoulder and let out a longer, muffled groan.

"Such a baby," Nemia said, but Morie didn't acknowledge her.

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Magali ran her fingers through her hair viciously and the tangles came even more undone, pulling out of the braided knot. "What do I do now? She won't come back to me. All the plans hinged on her coming back to me."

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