When one of the guards called out that Valoria was coming into view, I only regretted that I hadn’t found some way to make the rest of our trip more meaningful. Laurent and I had spent nearly every moment together, and I knew this stretch of time would stay with me for the rest of my life. That would have to be enough. Whatever waited for us inside the city, I could feel in my heart that our arrival meant we’d be splitting ways soon.

  We opened the carriage windows for the first time and moved to the back bench to watch the view roll in. The farmland stretched out far wider from the city than I’d expected, and before long the road grew crowded with workers and travelers all funneling toward the same gates. By midday, we were queued at the noble's entrance, and the sheer noise from the crowds pressing around us set my nerves on edge.

  At some point, Laurent had taken my hand, and the warmth of it was enough to steady me. I’d never imagined this many people could exist in one place. I was still every bit as excited to see what lay beyond those walls, but the crowds were going to take some getting used to.

  "How do so many people live in one place? How do they not all starve or fall into anarchy?" I wondered aloud as I looked over to the rows of people at the main gates waiting to get inside that endless wall.

  "Ah, yes. The power of bureaucracy. There is no stronger force in the universe." Laurent quipped, putting a reluctant smile on my face.

  I looked up at him, "Is it like this where you're from? It's a little intimidating."

  "Like this? No. I grew up near a much smaller town, but we had a city nearby. Have you really never seen a large city before?"

  I started to just say no, but the tone in his voice made me pause. There was more to the question. "Why do you do that?"

  He blinked. "Do what?"

  "Ask me things and mean something else entirely by them. I know you're looking for more than the answer you're asking for. I feel like I'm disappointing you if I only answer the words."

  That caught him off guard. He leaned back a little before saying, "…I suppose I am doing that. I apologize. I promised not to pry."

  I sighed, "I'm sorry, Laurent. If you really want, I will tell you more about myself before I leave, but I don't think it will make you as happy as you think."

  He just squeezed my hand, "I won't pressure you about it."

  I nodded and looked back out the window. A gaggle of children ran past, laughing, weaving their game between the lines of waiting travelers. "I know. But I trust you. I have no idea why, but I feel like I know you. I want you to know me. And I have this fantasy that I'll be able to visit you someday, that we'll see each other again after all this… but I know that's nonsense if I can't even talk to you."

  He chuckled softly. "We both have our secrets, Mirela. I'm sure over the next two days, some of them will come to light. It's like they say—the truth will out."

  "One person said that. Everyone else is just quoting him," I replied without thinking.

  Laurent let out a surprised bark of laughter. "See? My point exactly. I never expected you to be a Shakespeare fan."

  I looked back at him curiously, "What is Shakespeare?"

  He just shook his head. "There it is again. Either you're teasing me… or I'm a little crazy."

  I nodded sagely. "You're certainly a little crazy."

  "And I will never know," he groaned.

  The gate inspection turned out to be more about paperwork than anything dangerous, and that was a relief. No one asked who I was. No one checked inside the carriage to make sure I wasn’t a monster come to kill and eat their citizens. Even with the windows open, the guards barely glanced our way before waving us through.

  Our carriage picked up even more of an escort once we were inside the walls, and I immediately recognized the heraldry and armor of the templars and paladins. My whole body went rigid. For a moment, I almost slipped straight into fight-or-flight, certain they somehow knew I was inside.

  Laurent spoke up before I could make any rash decisions.

  "I hadn't expected to see a church escort so soon. I guess this means they're taking no chances."

  Holding his hand tighter, I asked, "What do you mean?"

  "It is part of the festival. There is a ceremony. I can't say anything about it. Did no one warn you?"

  "Perhaps you have forgotten you're my only source of information right now." I snarked at him, but he only nodded.

  "Well, I guess it's best to say they're expected. It's nothing to stress over."

  I nodded, mostly to convince myself. "Alright. I trust you."

  Laurent let out a small snort. "I almost get the impression you’re not a fan of the templars."

  "No, I am not."

  We rode in silence for a while after that, taking in the sights. Our carriage and escort stayed on the wide main road for a long time, first passing through a market so vast and sprawling that I had no idea how anyone ever found anything in it. That slowly gave way to a mix of craftsman streets and residential blocks before we finally rounded a corner into a broad square dominated by a large, well-kept inn.

  The carriage pulled to the side, and the grooms immediately moved to unload our bags. The door swung open, and Sir Cedric stood waiting outside. Laurent stepped down first and, just as he always did, turned and offered me his hand.

  I took my time accepting it. He’d done this for me every day of our trip, and for reasons I didn’t quite understand, it had become one of my favorite small moments. This time, though, there was a weight to it. A sense of finality that made me want to hold on a little longer.

  When my feet finally touched the ground, I turned to look up and meet his eyes with a smile, but Cedric’s voice cut in behind me before I could get a single word out.

  "Sir Gareth, this is my young charge, Lord Laurent Ashford. We have also escorted Lady Mirela to the city."

  I looked up to see two men approaching and let go of Laurent’s hand, stepping back to give a small curtsy as Laurent offered a slight bow.

  "It is an honor to meet you, Sir Gareth," Laurent said.

  Sir Gareth was an older gentleman with short white hair, weathered skin, and keen blue eyes. His armor marked him as both a high-ranking templar and a formidable paladin. The look of surprise on his face when he noticed me, however, was almost comical.

  "I was unaware that Lord Laurent had company," he said. "We had to remove another guest to make room for him due to the special circumstances. That room will be available again tomorrow, but I am not certain we can find another for tonight."

  I waved away their concerns, "I have family in the city."

  That earned identical looks of surprise from Cedric and Laurent, though Sir Gareth simply asked, "Would you like me to call for an escort to the Noble District, my lady?"

  I shook my head. "No, that won’t be necessary. Could you give me directions to the Cathedral District?"

  That actually made him smile, "Yes, of course. You are well on your way. Follow this road to its end, then turn left through the gates. The guards there will be able to direct you toward your destination."

  I nodded my thanks and turned back to Laurent. "Will I see you again?"

  He grinned. "I will make certain of it. Where will you be staying? I’ll send someone to bring you along for the festival tomorrow."

  I hesitated only a moment, but once our eyes met, I felt nothing but certainty. "If they will have me, I will stay with my grandfather, Bishop Basile Du Ciel."

  Gareth gently corrected, "He may be upset if you do not address him as Archbishop Basile. He has held that title for two years now."

  "Thank you, Sir Gareth. That would have been embarrassing."

  When I looked back to Laurent, his grin had shifted—warmer, steadier, a little too knowing. Something he clearly wasn’t ready to explain. Sir Gareth’s brows lifted a fraction, a brief flicker of recognition passing between him and Laurent before his expression settled back into disciplined neutrality.

  "Well," I said, suddenly self-conscious, "I should let you go inside. Thank you for bringing me with you. I had a wonderful time."

  Rose stepped up beside me as I spoke, waiting with patient grace. Laurent gave me a slight bow.

  "It was my honor to have you, my lady. Your company will be sorely missed until we meet again."

  I grinned. "Charmer."

  Rose cleared her throat, a gentle reminder of where we were and who surrounded us. Laurent straightened and, in the solemn cadence of tradition, said, "May the sacred light guide and shield you on your travels."

  Feeling the ceremony of the gesture, I stood up straight and returned it in kind. "May the sacred light guide and shield you on your travels."

  Laurent only smiled, so I knew I’d done something right—but the words felt like something inside me had cracked open. A dam breaking. Warmth rushed through me, like standing wrapped in sunlight on a cold winter morning. I drew a sharp breath, caught between confusion and awe.

  Before I could think to react, that warmth surged in my chest, and a soft golden glow flared around Laurent, washing over him for several seconds. Everyone startled at the sudden light, but the moment they recognized it, their shock melted into clear relief. It hadn’t been expected, but it was welcome. Familiar. Something they were glad to see.

  Not waiting for me to cause any more commotion, Rose stepped forward. “Lady Mirela, I’ll be heading in the same direction. I can walk with you as far as the gate.”

  I turned my smile toward her. “Thank you, Rose. Is that where your family lives?” I asked, taking my bags from the waiting valet.

  She nodded. “It is. And having me with you will help you get through the gates.”

  She was right. We left soon after, and the walk only took about ten minutes. The streets were quieter in this part of the city, though still far more crowded than anything I’d ever known, and I was grateful for Rose’s steady, familiar presence beside me. As we neared the gate, a massive stone arch came into view, framing the entrance to the cathedral district. The entire area was enclosed by an eight-foot wall, and the arch itself was carved with images of the gods and their angels, iconography I knew well, towering more than twenty feet high and twice as wide.

  Several templars stood guard at the closed gates. No one was entering or leaving. But when they saw us approach, their expressions brightened with easy recognition. One stepped forward and opened the gate without a word of challenge.

  I’d expected to have to explain who I was and justify my presence here. Instead, Rose walked us through with nothing more than a polite nod, and that was enough.

  We stopped just inside, and even from here I could see the grand cathedral. It towered above the district, rising above every other building like a mountain of stone and stained glass. The whole ward seemed to exist for it, though I knew not everything around us was housing. Clerical offices, libraries, dormitories, charity halls—this was a city within a city.

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Rose turned toward me, so I pulled my eyes away from the skyline and focused on her.

  "I am sure we will see each other again, Mirela. I’ve enjoyed traveling with you."

  "I hope you're right. Thank you for everything, Rose."

  “To find your grandfather’s home, follow this street to the next gate. They’ll have an artifact to verify your identity and let you pass. The guards there can point you the rest of the way, and each estate has its family crest on the gate.”

  I stepped forward to give her a quick hug. It wasn't a conscious decision, but something that just felt right. She gave me a quick pat on the back, and we went our separate ways.

  It was far less uncomfortable walking through the Cathedral District. I could still hear the muffled noise of the city beyond the walls, but the streets here were nearly empty. Everything was clean and orderly, and the architecture felt so distinct that, if I hadn't known better, I'd think I really had gone to another city. The streets were paved in uniform red cobblestone and lined with waist-high hedges, with small gardens squeezed into every space they could fit.

  Following the street led me not to a gate but to a grand fountain. The road looped around it in a neat circle. At its center stood a statue of a paladin in a heroic pose—book in one hand, sword raised high in the other. Jets of water arced inward from points around the basin, forming a misty halo around him. I didn’t recognize the figure, but the craftsmanship was exquisite.

  I circled the fountain, and only then did I spot the gate I needed. It was far simpler than the ones at the district entrance: a sturdy metal double gate with two guards stationed out front. As I approached, one of them shifted forward as though preparing to open it and called out to me.

  "Oh my, Candice. You must have had an early start! I'd not even realized you were out."

  I stopped before him, surprised and oddly pleased by the mistake. "I am Mirela. Candice is my cousin."

  The guard stumbled to a halt, his expression tightening as he took a better look at me.

  "Ah—my apologies, my lady. That’s… quite an uncanny resemblance. You must be visiting for the festival. Explains the bags."

  I nodded, amused by how unbothered he seemed. "This is my first time visiting my family here. Could you give me directions?"

  "Of course. Would you place your hand on this stone? It's protocol. I didn't know Candice had any cousins living outside the city."

  He held out a diamond-shaped crystal, and as I placed my hand on it, it lit with a faint green glow. I removed my hand and said, "I am the only one. I am Marie's daughter."

  His face fell, and his partner stiffened at the words, but he nodded, "You're welcome to enter. I knew Marie when we were children. I was very sad to hear when she went missing."

  "I never had an opportunity to know her, but I would love to hear about her from someone who did," I told him.

  He nodded slowly as if I'd confirmed what he wanted to know. "If you are staying for some time, I will try to visit. You will find the Du Ciel house by following the street to the right. It will be the last house on your left."

  "That's so close," I murmured, mostly to myself. I dipped a slight curtsy. "Thank you. I’ll be on my way, then."

  He chuckled and waved me through, and then I was alone on the quiet, immaculate street.

  The Cathedral District homes were nothing like what I’d imagined. I’d expected modest but respectable clergy housing. Instead, each property was enormous—easily half an acre, with manicured lawns and perfectly kept gardens. Compared to the towns I’d passed through on my journey, I was sure you could fit ten houses inside each of these estates. And the further I walked, the larger the lots became. Every property had its own gate. Every gate had at least one guard posted. It seemed excessive in such a peaceful district, but perhaps I was missing something.

  When I finally reached the Du Ciel estate, I stopped beneath the stone pillars and stared up at the family insignia carved into them. A deep blue shield held a sunburst at its center, flanked by silver phoenixes. Silver and gold filigree spread around the edges, tiny stars scattered throughout, reminding me of the sky just before sunrise. Below it was the family name, Du Ciel, and an elegant banner reading, “In the Light of the Gods.” I knew that every part of the insignia signified something, and I was a little disappointed that I did not understand it.

  My musings were interrupted when I heard a woman speak from behind me.

  "Lost in thought again, Candice? What is all of that you're carrying?"

  I turned to see a woman in a pristine white dress. She looked to be in her mid-thirties with long raven hair worn down to frame a familiar face with piercing blue eyes and a kind, amused smile. The expression quickly changed to confusion as she took in my face, and I put down my bags to give her a proper curtsy.

  "I am Mirela," I said before straightening, but she only continued to stare. So, I tried again.

  "Mirela Beaumont. I am Marie's daughter. I have come to meet my family."

  "Marie is dead."

  Her voice wasn’t cruel, just flat. Somehow that still stung.

  I only nodded, and for some reason, I found myself looking at her feet, unable to meet her eyes.

  "I'm sorry."

  In three quick steps, she stood in front of me, lifting my chin with a light touch until I met her gaze. She searched my face for long, silent seconds, her expression shifting through shock, recognition, and something more complex that I didn't understand. Then she exhaled and eased back, composure returning like a practiced habit.

  “Gods… you look exactly like she did the day she left.” She gathered herself. “Come inside. Your grandfather has been searching for you since the day Marie disappeared. He never stopped believing you survived. Welcome home, Mirela.”

  She took my satchel in one hand and my fingers in the other, guiding me through the gates as the guard scrambled to open them. I followed in a daze, barely aware of the long path stretching toward the house. We were almost halfway there when words slipped out of me before I could think.

  "I didn't know if anyone would know who I was. I thought I'd be turned away."

  The truth slipped out quieter than I intended. Those fears had been simmering under all the excitement about meeting my family. I'd spent so much of my life never thinking about family beyond Father, and now, I suddenly found that family was much more important to me. It was another new feeling that I couldn't explain.

  The woman beside me—Aunt Violette, I was certain—looked over with a bright smile that didn’t quite hide the tears gathering in her eyes.

  “Dear, you were never forgotten. You or your mother. Your grandfather has been trying to find you all this time. You arriving at our door like this… It’s a miracle.”

  I let out a quiet chuckle. I didn't feel like the concept of a miracle could apply to me, but the sentiment was there.

  "It was an odd turn of events to get here."

  "I would love to hear about it,” she said, still smiling.

  I couldn’t help smiling back, especially considering how ridiculous the truth actually was.

  “Well,” I began, “it all started when I was kidnapped by pirates.”

  As I told her the story, with a few necessary modifications, she listened at first with mild amusement. But when I didn’t stop, didn’t laugh, didn’t give any cue that I was joking, that amusement slowly shifted into concern. Even so, she didn’t interrupt me until the most unlikely part of it all—when I mentioned meeting Laurent.

  "You've already met Laurent Ashford? That is their youngest boy, yes?"

  I nodded, "Yes, that's right. I'm surprised you know him by name. Did you have to study the families the way he does?"

  We had made it inside by then. She’d taken me straight to the kitchen, put water on for tea, and was now arranging cups on a tray.

  “You’re surprised?” she echoed with a soft laugh. “No, we don’t have to memorize every family. But we do keep track of the ones who have business with our own. The Ashfords were also invested in finding you for a time.”

  That gave me pause, but after a moment of thought, I nodded.

  "I suppose that would make sense. If his family is anything like him, they must be very kind people. I refused to tell anyone my family name while traveling, so his guards were going to reject my request to join them, but he wouldn't leave me to travel alone."

  She smiled warmly. “So, you like him, then? Did you two have a chance to spend much time together?”

  I couldn't help but smile back, "We did. We actually spent most of the trip together. Don't worry—a priestess named Rose was with us as well, for propriety. But Laurent taught me how to play Conquest, much to his own regret, and we talked a lot on the road. I would say we’re very good friends now. He intends to send someone to find me in the morning so we can go to the festival together. I was glad to hear it, because leaving him behind to come here was a little hard. I didn't think I'd get to see him again. Is that weird?"

  She laughed, bright and delighted, and for a moment, I thought I'd said something foolish. That was, until she looked at me again. She wasn’t laughing at me. She was simply happy.

  “No, Mirela. That’s not weird at all. He clearly made quite the impression. I’m glad for it. Do you think he feels the same?”

  “Do I think he feels the same?” I repeated, thinking it over. "Well, I did tease him a lot, but he seemed to have fun with it, and he wants to spend more time with me. I think it is likely."

  She let out a relieved sigh. “That is good news. This family does not need another Nadine incident.”

  "Isn't Nadine my cousin by Uncle Edgar?" I frowned. "I'm sorry, I only had a short while to study the genealogy book on the way here. Did someone mistreat her? I will take care of them."

  Aunt Violette nearly choked trying to hide another laugh behind her hand. Once she composed herself, she said, “No, dear. Nadine is fine. It’s a long story, but she received some news she wasn’t prepared for and reacted… poorly.”

  "And you already have news for me that I won't like? I only just arrived."

  A sudden spike of unease made me genuinely consider whether I needed to rescue Nadine.

  She shook her head. “Your grandfather has news for you that you will not expect, but I doubt you will be upset. I’ll let him handle it. Edgar and Isabel talked me into helping with Nadine, but it didn’t go well. I’m terrified of what I’ll do when Candice and Chloe reach her age.”

  I nodded, "I am certain that whatever it is, you will handle it well. You seem like a wonderful person."

  She smirked softly. "Well, for now, why don't we sit down with this tea? You can finish your story and perhaps tell me a bit about your plans for tomorrow."

  I helped her carry things into the sitting room. We set everything on a tea table surrounded by plush chairs and sat across from each other. I picked up my story again, probably going into far more detail than I should have about our trip to the city and earning laughter or concern in equal measure. When I finally finished, she held a knowing smile I didn’t quite understand. I only knew she was happy, and somehow, that was enough.

  I’d just gotten to the part about needing to visit the cathedral, festival or not, when she stopped me.

  “You mean your birthday is tomorrow, and you still do not have a class? Oh, Mirela. What have your studies been focused on? I’m sure you must be close. We can figure out something before it’s too late.”

  I shrugged. “No, Aunt Violette, I am qualified for several classes. My status just stubbornly says ‘requirements not met.’ Laurent has the same problem, but he said the Church told him the Oracle foresaw this, and that it was fine.”

  Just thinking about it reminded me how little time I had left. I trusted Laurent. I believed he was right, but I couldn't help but feel nervous. I looked at my status for what I expected might be the last time before I'd get a new class, one way or another.

  ====================================

  Mirela Beaumont

  ====================================

  -----------------------

  Basic Information

  -----------------------

  Race: Vampire-Blood Acolyte (Evolution Available)

  Bloodline: Blood Sovereign

  Age: 17

  Gender: Female

  Level: 5

  Class: Unlocked.

  I froze, my mouth falling open. For several seconds, all I could do was stare at the word Unlocked.

  “Aunt Violette! My class is unlocked! What did I do? Unlocked means I can go to the catalyst now, right?”

  “Truly?” she asked, and I nodded so quickly my hair slipped over my shoulder. “Well, be calm, Mirela. The stones won’t be available until tomorrow. You can still go with Laurent. I think unlocking your classes together will make for a very nice bonding experience.”

  I nodded again and jumped to my feet, pacing a tight loop. On my second turn back, I stopped and blurted, “Bonding experience? What do you mean?”

  “Oh, nothing, dear. I only meant that the two of you will have another good memory together, that’s all. Now, let’s take your things upstairs and get you settled in.”

  “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry. I meant to ask if it was alright for me to stay a few days. I don’t want to cause any problems. I won’t be upset if it isn’t.”

  She stared at me like I’d said something absurd. “Mirela, when I said welcome home, I meant it. Family is always welcome here, and you most of all. You’re not a visitor. This is your home. You’ve only been away.”

  I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I bowed my head. “Thank you, Aunt Violette.”

  She took my satchel again and led us out of the sitting room. We passed through the entry hall and then up a broad staircase into a corridor lined with doors. One stood open, and I glanced inside long enough to see a younger teen girl with our family's trademark dark hair studying at a desk. She didn’t look up as we went by.

  We continued almost to the end of the hall before Violette opened a door that gave a long, tired creak.

  “Don’t mind that. We’ll have it oiled.”

  I nodded and followed her inside. The room was fully furnished, though every piece was hidden beneath neatly draped sheets. She immediately began pulling them down and folding them away, and I set my bags aside to help. By the time we finished, the room looked lived-in again, if a bit dusty. Violette stepped out to fetch a maid and some cleaning supplies.

  I was brushing a bit of dust from my hands when a voice at the doorway drew my attention.

  “We’re not supposed to come in here. Grandpa will be angry.”

  I spun toward the doorway. A girl stood there with the exact look of someone catching her sister sneaking sweets before dinner—right up until she actually took in my face. Her expression pinched in confusion. “Who are you?”

  I smiled and dipped into a proper curtsy. “I am Mirela. You must be Chloe?” She looked the right age, about fourteen, and she certainly matched the family features.

  She nodded but didn’t drop her suspicion. “Does Mother know you’re in here? This was Aunt Marie’s room.”

  I’d suspected as much, but hearing it still hit me like a stone to the chest. “I thought it might be. I am Marie’s daughter. I think that’s why they want me to stay here.”

  Her eyebrows flew up. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

  I gave her a perfectly serious nod. “Yes, that’s true. Don’t tell anyone.”

  She burst into giggles and finally gave me a curtsy in return. “It’s nice to meet you, dead cousin. Are you moving in? Where have you been? Are you still going to—”

  “Chloe, don’t overwhelm your cousin. She’s been traveling for some time,” Violette called from down the hall. I heard her footsteps, and another set, approaching. “Would you like to help Mirela get settled in?”

  Chloe cast one more guilty glance around the forbidden room, then straightened with sudden purpose. “Yes, of course!”

  A maid with fiery red hair followed Violette into the room. Their easy smiles and the casual way they moved around each other told me that whatever her uniform said, they were clearly friends. She introduced herself as Marion, and she was astonishingly efficient. She had some kind of class ability that helped with cleaning, and between her and Violette, every bit of dust and stale air vanished in minutes.

  Chloe was full of questions, things that I'd never have thought to ask, all about me. Where I’d grown up. What it had been like. How I’d gotten here. And a dozen more that wandered closer and closer to topics her mother clearly didn’t want her touching. Violette cut her off more than once and eventually stopped being subtle.

  “Chloe, stop prying into your cousin’s private life.”

  That earned me a look of apology from Chloe and made me suspect it had something to do with the secret talk Violette kept hinting I’d be having with my grandfather. I still didn’t understand why everyone seemed so nervous about it.

  I had plenty of questions of my own. I learned that my uncle and his family lived nearby rather than in the house itself. Violette’s husband had been killed a few years ago, so she’d moved back in with her father along with her children. Candice was somewhere around—almost certainly studying behind a closed door. According to Chloe, she was a cleric. Chloe expected to unlock the same class soon. That led Violette to show me my mother’s old bookshelf, full of prayer tomes. They reminded me of spellbooks, though the magic flowed differently. Violette herself was an enchanter, and while she knew how to do divine enchantments, she specialized in the arcane.

  When the room was finally declared livable again, Violette crossed to a large armoire and opened it. Inside hung several dresses and robes, each covered neatly with protective cloth.

  “I don’t know if any of these will be in good enough condition to wear tomorrow,” she said. “We can check for something formal, but we may end up needing to go into town and have something made in a rush. I know a tailoring shop that could handle it.”

  As she flipped through the garments, each one needed some kind of attention, but even in their worn state, I could see how beautiful they were. Simple designs, graceful lines, nothing gaudy. And they wouldn’t need much alteration to fit me, if any at all. It was surreal to look at these things and know my mother had once stood in this exact spot, choosing what to wear, living a whole life I’d never known.

  "What was she like?" I asked.

  Violette paused, glanced at me, then turned back and lifted a sleeve to check its seams. “She was a real pain,” she said fondly. “Always had some prank in mind. Never cruel, just enough mischief to keep the whole family on their toes. And she was there for everyone. Anyone who needed her, so long as they didn’t mind being the target of a joke now and then. We’ll have to gather the family and tell you stories after the festival. It’s the only way you’ll really understand. But I can say this much: she was a perfect sister.”

  I nodded, looking around the room again. There was so much here—little pieces of her life I could uncover if I just took the time. “Thank you, Aunt Violette.”

  “You deserve to know,” she said simply. Then she brushed a bit of dust from her hands and stepped back from the wardrobe. “But for now, it’s settled. You’ll need to make a trip to the market. I have things I must tend to today, and your grandfather won’t return until a few days after the festival. I’ll send Candice with you. I’m certain she’ll be thrilled for an excuse to shop.”