Page 3 of Given

I straightened my skirts and stepped inside.

A teacher from the Brotherhood stood at a large table covered with a colorful drawing. My eight-year-old niece, Princess Cathrin, perched on a stool beside him. Morning sunlight slanted over them. It turned the brother’s red beard to fire and emphasized the dark smudges under Cathrin’s eyes.

“This is the Fir,” the brother said, “the underworld where demons dwell.” He pointed to a pit of orange flames at the bottom of the drawing. “And this is the Mir.” He drew his finger up to a star-studded sky. “The Godsrealm.”

Cathrin observed obediently. She touched the pendant around her neck and looked up at him. “And that’s why we hold mirrors sacred?”

The brother gave her an approving smile. “That’s right, Your Highness.” He tapped the blue sky on the drawing. “Mir.” Now he gestured to her small, circular pendant. “And mirror.”

“Everyone is made in the image of the Lord,” Elissa said as she strolled from her solar, one hand on her swollen belly. Her dark-green gown was embroidered with golden apple blossoms. “That’s why we wear a mirror close to our hearts. We can see the Lord’s reflection every time we gaze upon ourselves.” She spotted me standing just inside the doorway. “Given! I thought you left already.”

The brother rose immediately and bowed. “The Lord favors you, Princess.”

I inclined my head and spoke the ritual words I’d been saying long before I understood what they meant. “He favors us all, Brother.” I looked at Elissa. “I received your message. I didn’t want to go until I talked to you, Your Grace.”

Her eyes warmed. She turned to the brother. “That will be all for today. Please take Princess Cathrin to my ladies.”

“Mama!” Cathrin cried, her voice full of outrage. “They just sit around and sew.”

“Yes, and your stitches are crooked. It’ll do you good to practice.”

Cathrin opened her mouth—

“I came to say goodbye to you, too,” I said quickly. “Since you’re my favorite princess.”

The little girl grinned. She climbed off her stool and flew to me.

“Careful, Cathrin!” Elissa said sharply.

Cathrin hugged my waist. I put an arm around her shoulders and tried not to let the shock I felt show on my face. She’d always been smaller than other children her age, but now her tiny frame felt as fragile as a bird’s. Without really thinking about it, I let myself listen for her heartbeat. It was a faint, thready sound. Between the beats was another sound—a soft shuffling I sometimes heard in the very old. Or the ill.

But these were things I kept to myself. “You must never speak of it,” my nurse, Helen, had warned me. “Promise me, Given. Don’t give them any reason to remember your mother’s blood.”

By “them” she meant the humans of Sithistra. It was good advice, but Helen was wrong. My father’s people would never forget where my mother had come from. For some Sithistrans, my human blood wasn’t enough to overcome the taint of my mother’s heritage. “She’s the wicked product of unholy lust.” I’d been younger than Cathrin the first time I heard Queen Amantha say it. But the words had seared themselves in my mind.

Cathrin coughed softly into my skirts, her body jerking. “Sorry,” she murmured.

I smoothed a hand over her brown hair. “It’s all right, favorite princess.”

Elissa watched us, her pretty face covered in worry. Rolund had brought in physicians from all over Ter Isir. None had been able to cure the child’s cough. Some nights, the rattling sound drifted through the entire castle.

After a second, Cathrin tipped her head back, her pale cheeks tinged with pink as she smiled. “You and I are the only two princesses in Sithistra.”

“I know,” I said with a mock sigh. “That’s why you’re everyone’s favorite.”

Her smile grew, as I’d intended it to. Then her little face became solemn. “I don’t think you should ride to the Rift. Mama says the vampires throw their prisoners into it!”

“Cathrin!” Elissa cried.

“And the vampires practice blood magic. Their priests dip their beards in blood!”

“Cathrin!” Elissa’s cheeks turned red as she gave her daughter a stern look. “I said the vampires have different beliefs than we do.” She turned exasperated eyes to me. “Given, she misunderstood.”

I waved it off. “It’s all right.” Inwardly, I didn’t doubt for a second that Elissa had filled the little girl’s head with tales. More than the Rift separated Sithistra and Nor Doru. The vampires worshipped thousands of gods, and the Lord of the Mir wasn’t one of them. But it was their reverence for blood that caused the most tension. The Brotherhood condemned magic. Contrary to what Elissa claimed, they didn’t view the vampires’ blood worship as a mere difference in beliefs. They considered it sacrilege. A more cynical person might think their animosity had more to do with history. Sithistra and Nor Doru maintained a fragile peace now, but it hadn’t always been that way. In ages past, vampires had hunted humans. The histories of Ter Isir bristled with atrocities carried out by both sides.

Elissa spoke sharply to Cathrin. “Apologize to your aunt.”

The little girl lowered her head. “I’m sorry, Aunt Given. I just…” Her lower lip trembled. “What if you don’t come back?”

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