"I don't like him," I muttered to Rosamund when we were a good distance from his door.

She nodded, one fist still clenched with anger. "Payne is not fond of the Dare family."

He's called Payne? How fitting.

"Why?" I asked. I wasn't driven by surprise—his previous sentiments were clear—but I was curious. Did he have a reason to hate Dares that intensely? I knew so little about what my family had done; for all I knew, they were mass murderers.

She wavered before answering. "He is your grandmother's cousin."

"So does he want more power?" I asked, considering his actions in a different light.

Rosamund closed her eyes, almost wincing at my question. "I am sorry for overstepping my position. I should not have shared my opinions so informally."

Faithful to her word, Rosamund didn't speak for the rest of the walk. She positively ignored me when I asked where we were going, so I I was surprised (and grateful) when we stopped at the kitchens for lunch.

Amid the hustle and bustle of the kitchen staff, Rosamund acquired food from one of the cooks and scored a table in the small cafeteria next to the pantry. When the man asked if we'd prefer the rundown dining space to the castle's dining room, Rosamund glanced over at me as if allowing me to protest. But I smiled at the man and insisted, grateful for Rosamund's care. I could be sitting with the High Court surrounded by people who wanted to see me fail at all of the most basic tasks. Instead, I was mostly ignored by the passing kitchen staff and ate my lunch in peace without having to worry about etiquette, Annora, or any of those other nonsensical things.

I had just finished my last glass of that wonderful Colu berry juice when a new wave of people swarmed the dining hall. They came in in a storm of golden armor, bright silks, and ponytails. If not for their age, I would've thought they were the palace guards. But I was fairly certain this collection of teenage girls couldn't be real palace guards.

Guards-in-training, perhaps? I wasn't sure, but I hadn't seen so many teenagers since my arrival, and I was unashamedly curious. What exactly did people my age do? Surely they didn't just go around causing trouble like Ace.

The girls chattered raucously and filed into the table adjacent. One girl stood out among them like a single grey crayon among a box of white ones. Where they were loud and chattered eagerly, she was quiet and withdrawn. She had her head tilted away, but it was clear she was listening to the other girls' conversation because every now and again she would suddenly perk at a small piece of information before falling back to her withdrawn state.

She had her back turned towards me, but I watched as she reached for the water pitcher. Only, a brunette closer to the pitcher noticed the girl’s effort and pushed it farther out of her reach.

Well, isn't that lovely, I thought sarcastically to myself. It was almost comforting to know the darkest aspects of high school survived in a realm full of magic. Almost comforting. Mostly, it was just irritating.

"Tyro!" Rosamund called, snapping me out of my thoughts. The quiet girl turned, and I realized it was Reece. Her somber eyes brightened at the sight of Rosamund.

She shot up out of her chair. "What is it, virago?"

"You missed yesterday's training," Rosamund barked gruffly. "You are going to be additional support for the afternoon post. Understood?" 

Rosamund was not being especially kind or gentle, but Reese grinned at her words and abandoned her tablemates. Interesting, I thought, filing away this encounter. Perhaps Reese's 'irritating-ness' is kinda understandable.

Reese laid eyes on me and frowned.

She is still irritating though.

Rosamund spared enough time to gather our trio and direct us towards the less-than-exciting adventures ahead.

***

About a minute and a half into the painful silence, I gave up and spoke. "Why do you guys wear dark uniforms and the palace guards wear shiny uniforms." That sounded intelligent, I thought sarcastically to myself after the ineloquent words tumbled out.

"We are virago," Rosamund said with strong conviction resonating in an otherwise mundane statement.

"What is a virago?" I asked.

Rosamund looked back at Reece, who was taking up the rear. "Tyro, who are the virago?"

She snapped to attention like an automaton. "The virago oversee covert intelligence and defense of the country's political and economic assets, both foreign and domestic. The virago also constitute one of the country's four security sectors. They were founded by—"

"That's enough," Rosamund interjected, sighing softly. "As I have said before, time is precious. Your answers should only relay the necessary information."

Reece nodded, falling back another step, and I felt a twinge of guilt. But what could I say to make things better?

Before I could figure that out, we came to a stop at the intersection between two hallways.

I began to question the stop when I heard loud footsteps down the other hall. I listened to the heavy footfalls and stared down the gilded hall as a figure came into view. His appearance brought a small smile to my face.

"Gwyndolyn dear, how has your day been thus far?" He asked as he approached.

"Relatively solid," I admitted, although one Payneful lesson did come to mind. The green book was still tucked under my arm. Despite the fact that I had no desire to follow that bitter man's order, I was looking forward to reading the book.

"Good. Your mother made sure to choose only the best, most overqualified instructors, but I was worried about how the Orac would act," my grandfather said, wrinkling his nose at the word orac.

"He was... a challenge," I finally conceded, smiling.

My grandfather laughed. "Well, if he ever becomes too incorrigible remind him that your grandfather is the one who made his nose crooked in the first place, and I have no qualms against fixing it." He even punched his right fist through the air, pretending to box someone's nose.

I chortled despite myself. In that moment, my grandfather became ten times more awesome. Somewhere behind me I'm sure that Reese and Rosamund were looking at me like I was insane.

"Let's begin then," he said, gesturing down the opposite hall. "We need to walk and talk."

I followed at his heels as he began discussing my childhood with me. He asked about America, too, curious of who was president, if we had started any wars recently, if we were any closer to accepting all minority groups, how conservation measures were going, and on and on.

His knowledge seemed at least a decade out-of-date because he cringed at the news of the latest military campaigns overseas. I tried my best to fill him in, but, admittedly, I don't put much time into current events. I ran out of details quickly.

"In a nutshell, that is my task," he said when I finished my current events update. "I am tasked with filling you in on all the pertinent current events that are impacting Roanoke. Your mother and I agreed that it was especially important after yesterday's... fiasco." He watched my reaction from the corner of his eye. "You do understand how much you upset her, don't you?"

I glanced back, making sure that Rosamund and Reese were trailing by a large enough margin. "I understand."

"I told Annora as much. The transition from a place where you believe you can be whatever you set your mind to, and here where your story seems to be told in stone... it's not an easy one. But it will come to you eventually," he promised. "Along that vein, I know that you've only begun learning our history, but I will do my best to give context when its due. Is there any particular topic that you would like to begin with?"

I tried to remember everything I could about Auntie's stories. How could I prove that it was indeed true? And, if true, how could I find out how old it was. The last chapters focused on civil unrest, so I took my shot with that. "Umm... what's the state of domestic affairs?" I asked, trying to sound intelligent.

"Things could definitely be worse, and, in past decades, it was. There is some contention with Collings, the large island just south of the mainland, but the sisterland has always had a loud, albeit harmless, minority fighting for autonomy." He kept a swift pace as he wove through the castle, somehow able to maintain eye contact while he spoke.

Collings? I remembered hearing about that island state in Auntie’s book. If her stories were correct, they’d been fighting for freedom for centuries, but they’d never gone to full-out war. 

"What about abroad?" I had to stretch my legs to keep up with him until he realized my struggle and shortened his stride.

We turned down a long hallway that was made entirely of green glass. Upon closer inspection, I realized that it was a very thin sheet of solid emerald. My heart leaped into my throat as I looked out at the world beyond.

The emerald tunnel connected two sections of the castle that were divided by a waterfall. On the other side, I could see the glittering city that crept right up to the castle's gates. We were low enough to the ground to recognize people milling about below. For the first time, I noticed greenery covering the rooftops and scanned out as far as I could see until they disappeared under the looming evergreens.

The city below was much bigger than I'd previously believed.

"What do you know about Roanoke?" He asked, dropping his voice several decibels.

"I don't know..." I watched the city disappear as we reentered the mountain. Would I sound insane if I told him I was basing my entire understanding of his country off of a collection of bedtime stories? "It's just... I'm not sure."

"Do not fret," he said, misinterpreting my awkwardness. "It may seem daunting now, but in one moon's time, you be well-versed in all important topics."

He meant well by his statement, but it disturbed me in a way I didn't expect it to. My grandfather seemed like a nice man—so did Rosamund and Matilda and Maeve—but his reassurance reminded me of my real life back in Georgia. Of everyone I loved back home.

Did they think that I'd been kidnapped or murdered? Was Elise blaming herself for giving me bad advice?—it was a very Elise-thing to do. Did Auntie and Uncle Coy even know what had happened to me? Guilt gnawed away at my thoughts.

He seemed to take note of my internal struggle because he placed a hand on my shoulder, but before he could speak, a call redirected his attention.

"Hisra-Dare!"

A petite woman with large dark eyes and ebony hair scurried up, her eyes wide. "Hisra-Dare, there's been an emergency. You are needed for a meeting of the Board immediately."

He straightened up, becoming a towering figure with furrowed eyebrows. He waved Reece and Rosamund forward, and they took up places on either side of me. "What calls me there, Messenger?"

"There's—" she glanced towards me. "G', the information is sensitive."

His grip on my shoulder returned. "My granddaughter is learning the ways of a Dare. She may hear."

The messenger seemed somewhat doubtful of his proclamation, but she continued. "There's been an attack at the Western Shore. A rebel sect has already taken credit for the attack."

"Is it the Collings dissidents? I was just talking to Gwyndolyn about their..." his voice faded when he realized that she was shaking her head. "When is the last time this group was active?"

She stared at me as she spoke. "Nearly fifteen years ago."

He clenched his jaw and turned to me. "Gwyndolyn, I am sorry, but I am going to have to cut our discussion short. This must be tended to."

I could see ghosts running past his eyes as he pressed his lips together and turned back to the messenger. I opened my mouth to question the timing, but Rosamund held onto my arm with an iron grip while my grandfather and the messenger hurried in the opposite direction.

Only when they'd disappeared around the bend did Rosamund loosen her grip.

That had nothing to do with me, I told myself. Don't be a typical, narcissistic teenager assuming that everything is connected to you existence. That had nothing to do with me. I repeated the phrase like an anthem, over and over again. But in the end, when I still couldn't shake the feeling, I settled on calling myself a narcissist.

Because the alternative was just too absurd.

I’m so blessed to have had the opportunity to be a Staff Pick this week. Thank you to all the new subscribers and the originals. It’s so awesome to see so many people enjoying Gwyn’s unlucky tale.

Questions:

1. Who is your favorite character so far?

2. What’s one thing about Roanoke that confuses you?

3. Do you have any theories about the rebels or Gwyn’s past?

Finally, thank you again for all your support. It means the world! ❤️ 

-MM