“I would say it’s about enough, wouldn’t it be?” Sophia eyed me as I did a nervous twirl for Jen. I had traded the servant gray for a light green dress that was still plain, but lacked the apron and felt much lighter. The skirt draped around my legs and teased them gently as it fell back into place. I smiled widely and heard Jen giggle. Miah and Sophia had insisted on outfitting me, ever since I had officially become one of them. Since my title of nobility had become forfeit and it was clear that I would never leave. As a result I’d found myself piled upon with dress after dress, greens, and grays, and blacks, all different styles and cuts and materials.

“Where am I going to wear these, even?” I asked, nearly stumbling backward as Miah shoved another bundle of clothes into my arms.

“Parties, dinner, out, all sorts of places, you might say,” Sophia laughed.

“We spend not all of our time in the servant’s quarters,” Jen informed me. “in our allotted time, we travel the streets, visit with our families, go out with friends. The possibilities that present themselves are endless!”

“Do you ever visit your family in Zlita?” I asked her. She smiled.

“Oh, once or twice a year,” She told me. “It’s a bit of a journey but I manage it from time to time!”

The servant quarters were beginning to look slightly different; as they stood there fawning over me, men in gray jumpsuits measured and hammered at all corners of the space. The planned renovations were going forward, and within the next day, we were to be relocated to a secondary servant quarters, located somewhere on the north side of the campus adjacent the palace.

“They’re to split this building into two floors,” Jen said, following my gaze. “stairs to separate them, doors on every room! Can you imagine it, Lyra, it will be like a hotel!”

“I can’t,” I admitted, thinking back on the servant quarters in Klocby and giving a shudder. “I can’t say I’ve ever been to a hotel either, perhaps we could visit one?”

“You could wear one of your new dresses!” Miah piped up. “I so want to see you in that black one!:

“But has she any skirts?” Miah suddenly asked, looking at the piles of clothing on my bunk and bundled in my arms. “We’ve given her so many dresses, but a good skirt and top make all the difference. Better to bring out personality, you know.”

“Lyra,” Sheena called out from behind the three girls, who all turned to regard her. She stood several feet away, her arms folded and a solemn expression painting her face. I frowned, and a sickening feeling began to emanate from my stomach as I realized that something was terribly wrong. She motioned for me to follow, and I did so wordlessly. I wanted to ask her what was going on, but I knew from experience that this would prove a futile effort. So I followed her in silence, through the winding hallways, up the flights of stairs, across the ParDar field where I had first encountered Lord Radon, and finally, we stood just outside the High Lady’s chambers. The doors seemed more ominous than ever before as I regarded the two guards on either side, rifles in hand, staring off into the distance aimlessly but ever aware of the situation around them. I looked to Sheena who gave me a quick smile which rapidly melted away into an expression of sympathy. Finally, she spoke.

“I want to tell you that it will be okay, Lyra,” She said softly. “I want to tell you that you needn’t be afraid, but today I cannot. What happens to you now will depend upon who you were, and who you have become. Please, Lyra, simply know and understand that I have given to you the Rossi name, and that I stand with you. I stand with the person you are, the person that I have observed over these weeks.”

“The Rossi name?” I frowned. “What does it mean?”

Sheena smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder, the scent of her muted perfume filled my nostrils as I drank in the soft smile.

“The name of my mother, and of my father. My name. My sister’s name. I did not make this decision lightly, Lyra. You are my sister now, by and by, through and through, so sure as fen and fern lights the night. There are people outside these walls who know of you, a new mother, a new father, sisters, and they are so eager to meet you, Lyra. But now questions must be asked and answers given, so much as they can be.”

A tear formed at the corner of my eye, dripping and rolling down my cheek as Sheena wrapped her arms around me. The warmth of her body filled me and I closed my eyes, stifling a sob as she released me.

“I see you, Lyra,” She whispered. “I see Lyra Rossi, not Micah Lavoric. He, is dead, and you are here. Let us go forth, with that knowledge in hand.”

She turned and twisted the lever, pushing the door aside to reveal the High Lady’s chamber. As we stepped inside, past the guards, I could see four people I recognized. Lord Radon, leaned against a pillar, as usual, arms folded and staring straight ahead. The Lady Jenwise sat behind her desk, ramrod straight, watching us as we entered the room. Then, of course, the Lady Myria standing just behind the High Lady, her form silhouetted by the massive picture window overlooking the city. The fourth person brought my heart to a standstill as I stared in disbelief.

“It has been a long time, girl,” Commander Balthasar Hammond stepped forward from the shadows, his scarred face easily recognizable, but now dressed in the blue of House Jenwise. “and I see that time has treated you better than I. Though last I saw you, you were naked in a field of posies. That was some stunt you pulled, child diving into the Stormveil as if you were off to dinner. A wonder we both survived that mess.”

“Commander Balthasar!” I gasped. “You…you survived the Stormveil incident!”

“That I did, girl, woke up beside you, and decided that I’d had enough of House Lavoric. I see you fared well, on your own. Oh, and it would be General Balthasar Hammond now, by the grace of the High Lady.”

“I did,” I nodded. “When they said there was another survivor, I didn’t think-”

“We can talk of that in due time,” He interrupted me. “For now, there is business to attend to.”

Behind me, I heard Sheena close the door.

“Lyra,” The High Lady said. “Despite your immeasurable progress in the past month, you stand accused of some rather severe crimes. Murder, coercion, kidnapping, chiefly among them. I could ask you how you plead, but the futility of such a question would be…well, quite frankly comical in this situation. Everyone present knows what Micah Lavoric did, and to hold a trial against you would take years. The witnesses that we would have to deposition, the countless testimonies, and in the end? We all know that you’d simply face a firing squad. Then, ultimately, we would need to ask how many of these deeds were of your own volition, and how many laid on the shoulders of your father. So, Lyra, I will not arrange for a public trial. Instead…”

As she trailed off, another form stepped from the shadows, someone I recognized but couldn’t place. The red-headed girl, the one who had confronted me in the hallway. Sage, was that her name? Yes, it was Sage, and as I recalled the name, realization washed over me. My jaw went slack and my stomach began to feel queasy. She stepped closer to me, looking me up and down, studying my face. I immediately looked away in shame, squeezing my eyes shut as she stepped closer.

“Look at me,” She said, her calm town masking immeasurable anger. I kept my eyes shut, a whimper escaped my lips as I tried to hold my composure. Then came the shrill scream. “Look at me!!!”

Her scream echoed through the High Lady’s chambers; I stumbled backward, dropping to my backside and barely managing to support myself by throwing my palms flat on the floor. I looked up at her, she glared at me.

“How could you?” She demanded. “What gave you the right? My father served you with passion and loyalty and you sent him to his death without a second thought! How I have dreamed of the day that I would stand before you. I wanted you dead. I wanted to gut you like a fish and feed you your entrails you miserable piece of goat shit!”

She fumed at me, the room remained silent as I was observed by the High Lady, Balthasar, and the others. I felt the wetness on my cheeks, the burning of my eyes, my body weak as I finally managed to pull myself upright but instead of climbing to my feet, I rested on my knees and placed my hands in my lap.

“Well?” Sage demanded. “Say something? Look at me and say something! Give to me your excuses so I may throw them back at you! Let me tell you of the man that you sent to his death! Let me tell you of his generosity, his kindness, his love! Let me tell you how you took that from me!”

“I did,” I finally spoke, looking upward and meeting her gaze through blurred vision. My voice cracked, my body shook; I was lower now than I had ever been, and I finally understood as I came face to face with her. It was me. It was always me. I was to blame. There was no one else.“I endeavored to take from you what should never have been taken, that which I had no right to take. I took from so many in the name of House Lavoric but it was not just for the honor of Lavoric, it was because Micah Lavoric enjoyed it. Micah Lavoric is a coward, and when all is said and done, he is guilty of all crimes levied against him. Then, High Lady, let Micah Lavoric die, so that we may cleanse the way between us. Let the healing begin, please, I beg of you. But, Sage Rowan, before I die, I would tell you that your father escaped the storm. He lives. Please, find him, and retake what I took from you.”

Sage began to shake, her eyes wide as she took a step back. I could hear Sheena sobbing quietly in the back of the room, near the door. Radon let out a strong exhale and lowered his head as Balthasar regarded me with interest. Finally, it was Sage who spoke.

“Micah Lavoric ordered my father to die. He ordered me to be executed. My life was ruined upon that day as I fled the city under the cover of darkness, soldiers at my back. I nearly died in the wilderness, starving and violently ill, and had a kind stranger not crossed paths with me by chance, I would have surely perished. And every day since, I plotted my revenge against Micah Lavoric, even as I took up residency in Klocby, even as I donned the gray and became a servant to House Jenwise. I wanted him to die, I dreamed of this day. But alas, High Lady, I do not see Micah Lavoric here.”

Sage turned and walked back across the room to stand near Lady Myria who held her as she cried. I remained kneeled on the floor, my head bowed. Silence followed for several minutes, broken only by a grunt from Balthasar and and a sigh from Sheena.

“You have told me, Lyra, that Micah Lavoric did indeed commit these crimes that he is accused of, and you told me that he deserves to die. I agree with you, Lyra, and so I sentence him to death.”

Sheena gasped, Sage broke away from Lady Myria and stared at me wide eyed as Radon pushed himself away from the pillar.

“I sentence Micah Lavoric to the death of self. I sentence him to fade away, into the darkest recesses of your mind, never to be seen or heard from again. I sentence him to cease, and I sentence Lyra, to live. I sentence her to find her passion, to be a joy among others, to live in the way best befitting to her. But Lyra shall never hold a weapon, she shall never serve in any branch of the military, and she shall never hold a position of power over another. She will remain the charge of her sister, Sheena Rossi, and she will learn to become the girl that she claims to be. She will visit with my personal surgeons, she will leave the appearance of Micah Lavoric behind, she will alter her personality in every way until she becomes Lyra through and through. That is my verdict, that is my word.”

With no idea what to say or do, I felt my body go slack, and I fell forward, onto the floor. Sob after sob escaped my throat, the death rattle of a boy that never should have been, and the dissolution of his future, whatever that might have held. I felt Sheena’s hand on my back, and she took me into her arms as the High Lady continued to speak.

“Lyra will remain employed at the palace and paid a fair wage for the foreseeable future. In her condition, she cannot live among the people as she would not have the financial means, nor would she be able to care for herself. This stipulation is not negotiable. Lyra will remain in service to House Jenwise. She will be supervised, she will be reported upon regularly, and so long as she remains the girl that she promises to be, she will live a long, and happy life within these walls. Am I understood?”

“She understands, High Lady,” Sheena said abruptly as she helped me to my feet. “I promise you, she understands.”

“Then,” The High Lady said. “Let it be done.”