That was, without a doubt, the most comfortable moment Lissa had experienced in a long time. With her head resting on his lap, the worries about the consequences of their forbidden romance nearly faded from her mind. As Numa ran his fingers through her hair, a pleasant tingling spread from her neck to the top of her head, bringing an unusual sense of relief.
"I wish we could stay like this forever,"
she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Apart from the world, as if we lived in our own little piece of the Celestial."
"And why couldn't we, my azalea?"
he replied, his tone lighthearted, a carefree smile playing on his lips.
"Oh, don't tease me like that." Lissa arched her brows, trying to sound indignant, but the amusement in her voice betrayed her.
"You know my father would never allow it."
"I know very well what that foolish dog is capable of."
The hatred in his voice was sharp as a blade, slicing through the air. Lissa sat up abruptly, her body tense. Suspicion flickered in her eyes.
"You knew my father? You spoke with him?"
"What kind of question is that? Of course, I know the man. Have you forgotten our situation?"
Numa's response was laced with irritation, but he quickly softened his expression, forcing a smile.
"But come now, let's not dwell on such unpleasant things. I want to show you something."
Lissa hesitated. She wanted to speak, but the words caught in her throat. The warmth that had surrounded her just moments ago had vanished, leaving behind an unsettling emptiness, as if she were an intruder in a place that no longer belonged to her.
"Well? Are you coming?" Numa urged, rising to his feet and extending a hand toward her.
"What do you want to show me?"
"I found a tree... something unlike anything else, in the most unexpected place. You need to see it for yourself."
Lissa stared at the outstretched hand for a moment before finally taking it. The instant her fingers touched his, a strange familiarity washed over her. But was it her own... or someone else's?
A sudden panic seized her chest, and a chill crawled up her spine. Before she could grasp what was happening, darkness crept into her vision, and a wave of dizziness swallowed her senses.
Ninka jolted upright, her heart pounding. She clutched the beowulf fur blankets as if testing the solidity of the world around her. Reality felt fragile, and the sensation that overtook her was deeply unsettling: she didn't just resemble Lissa... she was Lissa.
As she struggled to steady her breath, thoughts swirled through her mind. It was the first time she had ever fallen asleep in another person's form, and that revelation unveiled something new about her gift. Her abilities extended beyond mere physical metamorphosisâwhat other secrets did they hold? Was what she had experienced real, or just a memory? It had felt so vivid, so tangible.
If it was a real remembrance, when had it happened? And where was Lissa now? Still in her lover's arms... or in some kind of danger?
But Lissa's fate wasn't the only thought clawing at her mind. Ninka's thoughts quickly turned to Valeria and how she would have reacted to her absence overnight. Perhaps her mother had assumed she had stayed at old Miroslava's house to avoid the dangers of the night. If that were the case, Valeria would likely expect her to return at dawn. But Ninka doubted she'd be able to leave Ivanove Castle anytime soon.
The place was an entirely different world from the modest pinewood cabin where she had spent her entire life. The furniture was painted in vivid colors, and tapestries hung from the walls, displaying magnificent depictions of battles, hunts, and the descent of the Alfar from the Celestial to Novam Domum.
Valeria often said that the Ivanoves were nobles of little importance, and the fact that their castle was built from wood instead of solid stone reflected this status. But to Ninka, it seemed more a matter of practicalityâquality timber was abundant in the region, making oak the most sensible choice. Besides, the sandstone wall encircling the castle suggested that their descimus had been spent on fortifications.
She dressed quickly, choosing simple, unassuming clothes before making her way to the main hall, where she assumed breakfast would be served. The night before, she had paid close attention to the corridors and pathways within the castleânot just to avoid getting lost, but to ensure she wouldn't raise suspicion.
âââ
When she arrived, Evonia was already seated at the table, exuding her usual poise and elegance. The meal was abundant, yet untouched.
"Seems someone was in need of a long night's rest. Did you sleep well?"
"For the most part, but I had nightmares before waking."
"I'm sorry to hear that, my dear. Were they about what happened last night?"
Evonia took her daughter's hand.
"Yes. I dreamt about that woman's punishment... about her tongue being mutilated. It was disturbing,"
Ninka lied, seizing the opportunity to do something good while choosing her words carefully.
"Is that really necessary, Mother? Perhaps another punishment would be more... appropriate."
"You're just like your father. Long ago, we had a similar argument, and I let him convince me."
Evonia's face was a blend of anger and nostalgia.
"Well then, I suppose it's time you understand the situation."
"What situation?"
"Why do you think that woman made such an absurd accusation against you? Curses?"
"There was a misunderstanding earlier at the festival, and the boy ended up crying because of me."
"I know you well, my dear. I highly doubt you were truly responsible for any misfortune that befell that child."
That certainly would have been true for Lissa, Ninka thought. She lacked the natural grace to avoid such embarrassing situations.
"Have you ever heard the tale they tell in the village about the spirit that once haunted our forest?"
Evonia asked, her voice cautious.
"Yes, I've heard of it."
"You've likely heard only a version of it. But let me tell you what really happened so you can understand."
"It's true that there was something supernatural in Lesgrad. People would wander into the forest in a trance and disappear. And sometimes, those who tried to leave or enter the region were attacked under mysterious circumstances. Keep in mind, this was long before I met your father."
"Your grandfather sent a letter to the Confraternity of Thaumaturges in Elisia, requesting their aid. Eventually, they sent a representative. From what your father told me, his name was Saganu Initatos."
"Elisians have such strange names," Ninka said, laughing.
"They do, don't they?"
Evonia replied, momentarily caught in her daughter's mirth.
"If I recall correctly, thaumaturges receive a new name and surname when they complete their apprenticeship. I'd wager he missed his old one."
"Well, Master Saganu came from Elisia, traveling with an Elisian merchant and his family. They planned to trade near the border with Helleim."
"Trade near the border? Did he have a death wish?"
Ninka knew this part of the story. After all, the merchant had been her grandfather, but she had never understood what would drive someone to risk their life in a region plagued by constant conflict.
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Evonia noticed that she had never seen her daughter so inquisitive.
"War can be very good for business. Think about it, dear: when you're constantly fighting for survival, you can't produce enough to meet every need."
"And that's when foreign merchants appear to make a fortune," Ninka concluded.
"Exactly. However, the risks are high. That merchant, for example, didn't even need to reach the border to be affected. When he passed through Lesgrad, he was supposedly attacked by the so-called forest spirit."
"Supposedly?" Ninka questioned.
"I wasn't here to confirm anything myself; I'm just telling you what your father told me. But I must admit, I think the whole story is exaggerated. I don't believe much in these legends about spirits."
Evonia paused, then added, her voice low but measured:
"Spirits make fine stories. Truth is usually duller."
"Then what do you think happened?"
"Well, what I can say for certain is that the merchant and his wife died on that road. After that, the thaumaturge showed up here carrying their daughter. The girl was around eleven years old at the time."
"People say the two of them confronted the spirit to avenge the merchant and his wife,"
Ninka remarked.
"Is that so?"
Evonia gave a dry chuckle.
"The truth is, at your grandfather's requestâmay the Celestial welcome himâthe thaumaturge agreed to deal with the supposed spirit. But he claimed he needed the girl to do so."
"Why?"
"I ask myself that as well. Sometimes, I wonder if the two of them were frauds running some poorly planned scheme. But your father insists that wasn't the case, though he's never been the best judge of character."
Even if Ninka didn't fully believe her mother's version, the suspicion felt personalâmore the result of Evonia's distaste for Valeria than any real evidence.
"In any case, according to your father, they left the castle for the so-called expurgation of the spirit: the thaumaturge, the girl, Sir Bosko, and a few unfortunate men-at-arms. However, only the girl and Sir Bosko returnedâhe, nearly dead."
"Sir Bosko was there? He saw what happened?"
"Part of it. According to him, the group was attacked by wild animals shortly after entering the forest. The other men were killed, and he suffered a terrible wound to the leg. He only survived because the thaumaturge gave him something to drinkâsome potion or remedy that kept him alive, though it left him weakened. The thaumaturge then went ahead with the girl, and some time later, she returned alone, claiming the spirit had been dealt with."
"That does sound suspicious,"
Ninka said, thoughtful.
"I would love to hear you say that to your father and watch his emphatic denial in response,"
Evonia muttered, smiling without mirth.
"Do you think Sir Bosko is lying?"
Ninka asked, frowning.
"Not at all. Bosko is far too loyalâand too plainspokenâto spin such a lie. The only one who stood to gain anything from deception was the girl... and she certainly did."
"What did she gain?"
"Well... she was practically adopted by the Ivanoves. Of course, she had duties as a servantâit couldn't be otherwiseâbut she slept in the upper floor and enjoyed privileges most of the staff would never dream of."
"Father told you this?"
Ninka asked, narrowing her eyes.
"No. The older servants did. And if anyone knows what goes on behind these walls, it's the people who clean them."
"Is it possible their opinions were colored by jealousy?"
Evonia shrugged with a tired elegance.
"Can you blame them?"
For a moment, her composure slipped. She stabbed a piece of cheese with her fork like it had personally offended her. Then, as if nothing had happened, she took a bite with the poise of a queen.
"They served this household for decades, only to be cast in shadow by an ambitious girl who showed up with a sob story and a foreigner's blessing."
"And what happened next?"
Ninka could see that her questions were beginning to bother Lissa's motherâbut she pressed on.
"After a few years living among the Ivanovesâand likely believing herself the heroine of some folk taleâour would-be princess decided she needed a prince. And your fool of a father was far too willing to oblige."
"Is that true?"
Ninka asked, studying her closely.
"Listen, dear. One thing you must understand about men: they rarely turn down the chance to undress a woman. But that doesn't mean she won him. Quite the opposite, usually."
Evonia's tone was sharp, but smooth.
"Your father may not be the wisest of men, but even he eventually saw the difference between a dalliance and a future."
Ninka let the words sit. Her own view of men was narrowâshaped almost entirely by her father's calm, disciplined example. But even she had seen how easily Ivan bent under Lissa's smile. Maybe men didn't need spells to lose their senses. But now, another question crept in. Who had bent Lord Ivanove? Valeria... or Evonia?
"But your grandmother was a clever woman. She saw what was happening, and she decided someone like yours truly was needed to restore order. And that, my dear, is how your beautiful mother entered the story."
Evonia caressed Ninka's cheek, catching her off guard just as she reached for a piece of tart.
"I must admit, at first, I wasn't thrilled with the arrangement. Among four stunning sisters, I was the youngestâand the fairest. But tradition said they had to marry before me. And marry well, they did. Your aunt Agneza, for instance, is wed to the second son of Duke Velimir."
She let the memory rest in her voice for a momentâlike perfume that lingered on silk.
"My ambitions were... somewhat higher. And we both know Lesgrad isn't the most desirable fief in the province."
"Then what changed your mind?"
Ninka asked, leaning in slightly.
"Your father, of course. Handsome, gallant, full of promise. I couldn't let him throw all that away on some castle maid with good timing. Once he saw what a real woman looked like, he corrected his path quickly."
Ninka raised her eyebrows. There was pride in Evonia's wordsâbut also a hint of something else. Possessiveness, maybe.
"And what happened to Valeria?"
"I see you know the name of the serpent."
"People talk. They say she's a witch."
"Oh yes, that nonsense began after she was dismissed from the castle. There was no reason to keep her here after all her scheming. Your grandmother had her sent to the village, placed in the care of an old widow who'd never had children."
"Old Miroslava?"
Ninka realized her mistake too late. Had she revealed too much?
"Perhaps. I confess I'm not particularly gifted when it comes to remember peasant names,"
Evonia said, waving the thought away.
"Anyway, the woman was something of a village advisor, though being widowed and lame, she couldn't offer much. She lived on charity. That's when the girl began claiming she'd inherited magic from the thaumaturge. And naturally, the peopleâever eager for mysteriesâflocked to her. They traded eggs, gossip, favors, anything for her so-called visions."
Evonia sipped her wine, her lips drawn tight.
"I ignored it. Harmless nonsense. Until you were born."
"What do you mean?"
"The moment she learned your hair color, that viper began spreading the idea that it was a mark of a curse. That you would bring the forest spirit back."
"That makes no sense!"
Ninka protested.
"What does hair color have to do with anything?"
"You don't know, because we shielded you from such peasant rot. But there's a prejudice, old as the bones of Rajmir, against those born with hair like yours. They call them Milanos."
"Milanos?"
Ninka repeated, furrowing her brow.
"Yes. The name and the omen come from King Milosâhe of the pink hair, they say. He brought ruin to Rajmir. It was his war that undid everything his father, King Vukasin, had built. You remember the name? Vukasin, the great unifier of our lands, long before the Elisian Empire came knocking."
Ninka had never heard of such a tale, and she had certainly never seen Lissa insulted behind her back for something like this. Everyone treated her with respect and reverenceâor at least, that was how it seemed. Of course, her noble blood played a major role in that. Along with the fear of the consequences for such insults to the nobility. Evonia Ivanove was not a woman to hesitate when it came to an offense against her family; that had been made abundantly clear the previous night. Yet what unsettled Ninka the most was the pettiness attributed to Valeria. It was true her mother had become a bitter womanâbut would she really go so far as to spread something so vile?
"Are you all right, dear?"
Evonia asked, gently resting a hand over Ninka's.
"Yes, it's just..."
"I know. You're wondering how someone could even think of such a thing."
"And that, my dear, is precisely why I believe in harsh punishments for women like the one who cursed you at the festival."
"When that fraud spread lies about you all those years ago, I gave your father the same adviceâI told him they should cut out that wretched woman's tongue, so she could never spew her poison again."
"But your father..."
Evonia sighed, her lips tightening slightly.
"...was too merciful for his own good. He simply didn't have the stomach for it."
She paused to study Ninka's reaction before continuing, her tone quieter, but with more edge.
"In the end, after much debate, that little schemer escaped with nothing more than a few lashes."
"Do you understand me, dear? "
"If they had done things my way back then, we probably wouldn't have had to punish that woman at all."
Ninka bit her lip, hesitating.
"Maybe... or maybe not. Has she said anything over the years? After theâ"
"Not that I know of,"
Evonia replied with a wave of the hand.
"But I doubt a few lashes taught her anything."
"If anything's kept her in line, it's that poor fool who agreed to the arrangement and took her as his wife."
"Their marriage was arranged?"
Ninka asked, blinking.
"Oh, that was your grandfather's doing. He decided to find her a husband and even scraped together a small dowry. The brave volunteer was the castle huntsman. A simple man, whoâif you ask meâonly offered himself out of pity for the woman. They moved to the edge of the forest."
"But do you know what surprised me the most?"
"What?"
Ninka leaned in, intrigued despite herself.
"That she accepted."
This was the first time Ninka had heard that her parent's marriage had been arranged, but it didn't surprise her. She had always wondered what had truly bound them together. Valeria had shown respect toward Borisâeven fondness, on rare daysâbut their principles clashed like fire and frost.
"What concerns me,"
Evonia continued, her voice darkening,
"is that I've heard the man abandoned his family. Not that I blame him."
She gave a short, humorless laugh.
"The fact that he put up with her for so many years is already impressive. But him leaving? That's a terrible sign. Especially with people disappearing in that forest again."
She leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing.
"That is why I cannot afford to be merciful toward the woman who accused you in front of everyone at the festival. When that little actress escaped with her venomous tongue, we set a disastrous precedent."
"Perhaps she kept herself in check all these years out of fear for her daughter,"
Ninka said quietly.
Evonia frowned, as though the idea hadn't occurred to her.
"Perhaps... I sometimes forget that girl even existsâthat the woman is a mother."
"Just as Radu's mother,"
Ninka added cautiously.
"Radu?"
"Yes, the boy from the festival. That's his name. His mother reacted instinctively, out of fear for what might happen to him. Surely you can sympathize with that, can't you?"
Evonia didn't answer at first. Her eyes searched Ninka's face, then drifted toward the window. Finally, she let out a short sigh.
"Of course."
"But in the end, it is a mother's duty to place the safety and happiness of her own blood above all else,"
she said, her voice firm again. Ninka fell silent, her thoughts a storm. There was no convincing Evonia to show mercy. That much was clear.
So what could she do?
What problem was within her power to solve?
"Dear?"
Evonia's voice drew her back. She'd noticed the change in her daughter's expression. Ninka lifted her gaze, eyes steadyâlike someone who'd just made peace with a difficult choice.
"Mother, could we visit Kustovka today?"
"Of course, dear. But what is it you need to do in Kustovka?"
"I need to find someone."